The Telegraph Boy

"You are strong enough to do it," said Frank, exhibiting no trace of fear, "but I think you would be sorry for it afterwards. Come, Fred."

Though Frank was so much younger and smaller, there was something in his calm, self-possessed manner that gave him an ascendency over the weak, vacillating Fred. The latter rose, and, taking our hero's arm, turned to leave the room.

"Let him go," said the leader, who had been made uneasy by Frank's threat, and saw that it was politic to postpone his further designs upon his intended victim. "If he chooses to obey a small telegraph boy, he can."

"Don't mind him, Fred," said Frank. "You know I'm your friend."

"My friend, Frank Kavanagh!" repeated Fred, drowsily. "I'm awful sleepy, Frank. I want to go to bed."

"You shall go to bed as soon as you get home, Fred."

"I say, boy," said the leader, uneasily, "that was all a lie about the ten-dollar bill. You didn't see straight. Did he, Bates?"

"Of course he didn't."

"One lies and the other swears to it," thought Frank.

"Nothing will be done about it," he said, "if you will let Fred alone hereafter. The money you have won from him belongs to his mother, and, unless you keep away from him, she will order your arrest."

"You're altogether too smart for a boy of your size," sneered the other. "Take your friend away. We don't care to associate with a milksop, who allows himself to be ordered around by women and children."

Fortunately Fred was too drowsy to pay heed to what was being said; in fact he was very sleepy, and was anxious to go to bed. Frank got him into a cab, and in twenty minutes they safely reached his mother's house in Thirty-eighth street.

Mrs. Vivian was anxiously awaiting the return of the prodigal.

"O Fred," she said, "how could you stay away so, when you know how worried I get? You have been drinking, too."

"This is my friend, Frank Kavanagh," hiccoughed Fred.

"Shall I go up and help put him to bed?" asked Frank.

"Does he require help?" asked Mrs. Vivian, sorrowfully.

"He has been drinking a good deal."

"Yes, you may go up. I will lead the way to his chamber. Afterwards I want to speak to you."

"All right."

"Where did you find him?" asked Mrs. Vivian, when Frank with some difficulty had prepared his charge for bed.

"In the billiard-saloon to which you directed me. He was upstairs playing cards for money. They were cheating him in the most outrageous manner."

"I suppose they got all his money."

"Not all; but they would soon have done so. Here is his pocket-book, which I just took from his pocket."

"There are twenty dollars left," said 'Mrs. Vivian, after an examination. "They must have secured the rest. O my poor boy! Would that I could shield you from these dangerous companions!"

"I don't think they will trouble him again, Mrs. Vivian."

"Why not? You do not know them."

"I told them that, if they came near him, hereafter, you would have them arrested for swindling your son out of money belonging to you."

"Will that have any effect upon them?"

"Yes, because they know that I am ready to appear as a witness against them."

"Did Fred show any unwillingness to come with you?"

"No; I made him think I was an old acquaintance of his. Besides, he was feeling sleepy."

"You have acted with great judgment for so young a lad," said Mrs. Vivian. "I wish Fred had a companion like you to influence him for good. Where do you live?"

"At the Newsboys Lodging-House. I cannot afford to hire a room."

Mrs. Vivian looked thoughtful.

"Give me your name and address," she said.

These she noted down.

"I won't keep you any longer to-night," she said, "for you must be tired. You will hear from me again."

"Oh," said Frank, "I nearly forgot. Here is the balance of the money you handed me for expenses."

"Keep it for yourself," said Mrs. Vivian, "and accept my thanks besides."

Though Frank had paid for the cab, there was a balance of nearly two dollars in his hands which he was very glad to keep.

CHAPTER XIV.

FRANK MAKES AN EVENING CALL

The next day Frank chanced to meet Mrs. Vivian in the street. She recognized him at once.

"I see you are kept busy," she said, pleasantly.

"Yes," answered Frank. "Our business is pretty good just now. How is your son?"

"He slept well, and woke much refreshed this morning. He is a good boy naturally, but unable to withstand temptation. I have decided to send him to the country for a few weeks, to visit a cousin of about his own age. There he will be secure from temptation, and will have a chance to ride. I would have sent him away before, but that it would leave me alone in the house. You told me last evening that you had no boarding-place."

"My only home is at the lodging-house," said Frank.

"How would you like to occupy a room at my house while my son is away?"

"Very much," said Frank, promptly.

"I shall find it convenient to have you in the house, and shall feel safer."

"I am afraid I shouldn't be a match for an able-bodied burglar," said Frank, smiling.

"Perhaps not; but you could summon a policeman. When can you come and see me about this arrangement?"

"I am off duty to-night."

"Very well; I will expect you. Fred will not go away till to-morrow, and you will have a chance to see him under more favorable circumstances than last evening."

"Thank you very much for your kind invitation," said Frank, politely.

Mrs. Vivian bade him good-morning, very favorably impressed with his manners and deportment.

Frank looked upon the proposal made him by Mrs. Vivian as a piece of great good-fortune. In his new position, excellent as were the beds at the lodging-house, he found it inconvenient to go there to sleep. Once or twice, on account of the late hour at which he was released from duty, he was unable to secure admittance, and had to pay fifty cents for a bed at a hotel on the European system. He had for some time been thinking seriously of hiring a room; but the probable expense deterred him. At Mrs. Vivian's he would have nothing to pay.

In the evening he changed his uniform for the neat suit given him by Mr. Bowen, and about eight o'clock rang the bell of the house in Thirty-eighth street.

He was at once ushered into the presence of Mrs. Vivian and her son.

"I am glad to see you, my young friend," said Mrs. Vivian, glancing with approval at the neat appearance of her young visitor. "Fred, this is the young man who brought you home last night."

"I am much obliged to you," said Fred Vivian, offering his hand to Frank. "I am ashamed of having been found in such a place."

"I don't think the young men with you were very much your friends," said Frank; "I detected one in cheating you."

"You mean at cards?"

"I don't mean that, though I presume they did; but you handed a ten-dollar bill to one of them, and he took it as a five."

"Are you sure of that?" asked Fred, his face flushing with indignation.

"Yes, I saw the number of the bill, though he put it away very quickly."

"And I had been treating that fellow all the afternoon! I gave him a good dinner, too."

"Are you surprised at such treatment from such a person?" asked his mother. "I should have expected it."

"I will never notice the fellow again as long as I live," said Fred, who seemed a good deal impressed by his companion's treachery. "Why, it's nothing better than robbery."

"You have given it the right name, Fred," said his mother, quietly.

"He ought to give the money back," said Fred.

"Let it go, my son. I am willing to lose it, if it severs all acquaintance between you and your unworthy companions."

"Have I ever met you before?" asked Fred, turning to Frank.

"Not before last evening."

"I thought you spoke of yourself as an old acquaintance."

"That was to induce you to come with me," explained Frank. "I hope you will excuse the deception."

"Certainly I will. I had been drinking so much that it was quite necessary to treat me as a child; but I don't mean to be caught in such a scrape again."

"May you keep that resolution, Fred!" said his mother, earnestly.

"I will try to, mother."

"My mother tells me that you are going to take my place while I am in the country," said Fred, turning to Frank.

"I shall be very glad to do so," said our hero. "I never had such a good home before."

"You are a telegraph boy, are you not?" asked Fred.

"Yes," answered Frank.

"Tell me about it. Is it hard work?"

"Not hard, but sometimes when I have been kept pretty busy, I get tired towards night."

"I should think it would be rather good fun," said Fred.

"Do you think you would like it?" asked his mother, with a smile.

"I might like it for about half a day, but all day would be too much for me. However, I am too old for such a position."

Fred had no false pride, and though he knew that Frank was in a social position considerably below his own, he treated him as an equal. Those who are secure of their own position are much more likely to avoid "putting on airs" than those who have recently been elevated in the social scale. Frank was destined that same evening to see the contrast between true and false gentility.

It so happened that Victor Dupont, already mentioned, was an acquaintance and former school-fellow of Fred Vivian. It also chanced that he selected this evening for a call, as the Vivians stood very high socially, being an old family. Victor was rather proud of his acquaintance with them, and took occasion to call frequently.

As he was ushered into the room he did not at first recognize Frank in his new clothes.

"Victor, this is a friend of mine, Frank Kavanagh," said Fred, introducing his two visitors. "Frank, let me introduce my old school-fellow Victor Dupont."

"We are already acquainted," said Frank. "Good-evening, Victor."

Victor stared in amusing astonishment at Frank.

"How do you happen to be here?" asked Victor, brusquely.

"By Mrs. Vivian's kind invitation," said Frank, quite at ease.

"How do you two happen to know each other?" asked Fred.

"We met in the country last summer," said Frank, finding Victor did not answer.

"I suppose you had a very good time together," said Mrs. Vivian.

"Our acquaintance was very slight," said Victor superciliously.

"We must have gone fishing together at least a dozen times," said Frank, quietly.

"How in the world did the fellow thrust himself in here?" said Victor to himself. "They can't know his low position."

In the amiable desire of enlightening the Vivians Victor took an early opportunity to draw Fred aside.

"Have you known Frank Kavanagh long?" he asked.

"Not very long."

"Do you know that he is a telegraph boy?"

"Oh, yes," answered Fred, smiling.

"He used to be a newsboy, and sell papers in the lower part of the city."

"I didn't know that," said Fred indifferently.

"I must say that I am rather surprised to see him here."

"Why?" asked Fred, with provoking calmness.

"Oh, you know, he is much below us in a social point of view."

"I know that he is a poor boy; but some of our most prominent men were once poor boys."

"I don't believe in mixing up different ranks."

"You didn't think so in the country last summer."

"Oh, well, a fellow must have some company, and there was no better to be had."

"You will probably be surprised to hear that your old acquaintance is to live here while I am in the country. I am going away to-morrow to spend a few weeks with my cousin."

"Is it possible!" exclaimed Victor, in surprise and annoyance. "Perhaps he is to be here as an errand boy?" he suggested, evidently relieved by the idea.

"Oh, no; he will be treated in all respects as one of the family."

"Hadn't you better tell your mother that he was once a newsboy? She might recall the invitation."

"It would make no difference with her. It seems to me, Victor, you are prejudiced against Frank."

"No, I am not; but I like to see newsboys and telegraph messengers keep their place."

"So do I. I hope Frank will keep his place till he can find a better one."

"That isn't what I meant. How can you associate with such a boy on an equality?"

"Because he seems well-bred and gentlemanly."

"I don't believe he gets more than three or four dollars a week," said Victor, contemptuously.

"Then I really hope his wages will soon be increased."

Victor saw that he could do Frank no harm, and was forced, out of policy, to treat our hero with more politeness than he wished.

When Frank rose to go, Mrs. Vivian desired him to send round his trunk, and take possession of his room the next day.

"She doesn't suspect that I never owned a trunk," thought Frank. "I will buy one to-morrow, though I haven't got much to put in it."

CHAPTER XV.

AT WALLACK'S THEATRE

The next day Frank devoted what small leisure he had to the purchase of a trunk, in which he stored his small supply of clothing, leaving out, however, the clothes in which he made his first appearance in the city. These he gave to his friend, Dick Rafferty, to whom they were a welcome gift, being considerably better than those he usually wore. Dick might, out of his earnings, have dressed better, but when he had any extra money it went for some kind of amusement. He was one of the steadiest patrons of the Old Bowery, and was often to be seen in the gallery of other places of amusement. He was surprised to hear of Frank's intended removal from the lodging-house.

"I say, Frank," he said, "you're gettin' on fast. Here you are, goin' to live in a tip-top house up-town. You'll be a reg'lar swell."

"I hope not, Dick. I don't like swells very much."

"You won't notice your old friends bimeby."

"That shows you don't know me, Dick. I shall be glad to notice you whenever we meet."

"I don't see why I can't be in luck too," said Dick. "I wish I could find some rich lady to give me a room in her house."

"You'll have to get some new clothes first, Dick."

"I know I aint got a genteel look," said Dick, surveying his well-worn clothes, soiled and ragged; "but it wouldn't be no use if I was to dress in velvet."

"Unless you kept your face clean," suggested Frank.

"A feller can't be washin' his face all the time," said Dick.

"It's the fashion to have a clean face in good society," said Frank, smiling.

"It must be a good deal of trouble," said Dick. "Is my face very dirty?"

"Not very. There's a black spot on each cheek, and one on the side of your nose, and your chin looks a little shady."

"A feller can't keep very clean in my business."

"I suppose it is rather hard," Frank admitted; "but you won't be a boot-black always, I hope."

"I'd just as lieves give it up for bankin', or cashier of a savings-bank," said Dick. "Them's light, genteel kinds of business, and don't dirty the hands."

"Well, Dick, if I hear of an opening in either line I'll let you know. Now I must go and buy a trunk."

"I never expect to get as far as a trunk," said Dick. "I shall feel like a gentleman when I can set up one. It wouldn't be no use to me now. I'd have to stuff it with rocks to make a show."

"Poor Dick!" thought Frank as he left his friend. "He takes the world too easy. He hasn't any ambition, or he wouldn't be content to keep on blacking boots when there are so many better ways of making a living. If I ever get a chance to give him a lift I will. He aint much to look at, but he's a good-hearted boy, and would put himself to a good deal of trouble to do me a favor."

It was not much trouble to pack his trunk. Indeed, he had scarcely enough clothing to fill it one-third full.

"I may have to adopt Dick's plan, and fill it with rocks," said Frank to himself. "Some day I shall be better supplied. I can't expect to get on too fast."

The room assigned to Frank was a small one; but it was neatly furnished, and provided with a closet. The bed, with its clean white spread, looked very tempting, and Frank enjoyed the prospect of the privacy he would have in a room devoted to his sole use. At the lodging-house, though his bed was comfortable, there were sixty to eighty boys who slept in the same room, and of course he had no more rights than any other.

"I hope you like your room, Frank," said Mrs. Vivian.

"It is the best I ever had," he replied.

"How early are you obliged to be on duty?" she asked.

"At eight o'clock."

"I do not breakfast till that hour; but I will direct the cook to have a cup of coffee and some breakfast ready for you at seven."

"Am I to take my meals here?" asked Frank, in surprise.

"Certainly. Did you think I was going to send you out to a restaurant?" inquired Mrs. Vivian, smiling.

"I am very much obliged to you; but I am afraid it will inconvenience the cook to get me an early breakfast."

"I am glad to see you so considerate of others. I can answer for Mary, however, who is very obliging. You can get lunch outside, as I suppose it will be inconvenient for you to leave your duties to come so far as Thirty-eighth street."

"You are very kind to me, Mrs. Vivian," said Frank, gratefully.

"I shall claim an occasional service of you in return," said Mrs. Vivian.

"I hope you will," said Frank, promptly.

Two days after he had taken up his residence in his new quarters Frank was called upon to render a very agreeable service.

"I have two tickets for Wallack's theatre for this evening," said Mrs. Vivian. "Will it be agreeable for you to accompany me?"

"I should like it very much."

"Then you shall be my escort. When Fred is at home he goes with me; but now I must depend on you. Have you a pair of kid gloves?"

Frank was obliged to confess that he had not. In fact he had never owned a pair in his life.

"I will give you a pair of mine. Probably there is little difference in the size of our hands."

This proved to be true.

Somehow Frank in his new life seemed always running across Victor Dupont. That young gentleman and his sister sat in the row behind Mrs. Vivian and her youthful escort, but did not immediately become aware of it.

"Why, Victor," said his sister, who had been looking about her, "there is Mrs. Vivian in the next row. Who is that nice-looking boy with her? It can't be Fred, for he is larger."

Victor turned his glance in the direction of Mrs. Vivian. His surprise and disgust were about equal when he saw the country-boy he had looked down upon, faultlessly attired, with neat-fitting gloves, and a rose in his button-hole and looking like a gentleman.

"I never saw such cheek!" he exclaimed, in disgust.

"What do you mean, Victor?" asked his sister, looking puzzled.

"Do you want to know who that boy is with Mrs. Vivian?"

"Yes; he is very nice-looking."

"Then you can marry him if you like. That boy is a telegraph messenger. I used to know him in the country. A few weeks ago he was selling papers in front of the Astor House."

"You don't say so!" ejaculated Flora Dupont, "Aren't you mistaken?"

"I guess not. I know him as well as I know you."

"He is a good-looking boy, at any rate," said Flora, who was less snobbish than her brother.

"I can't see it," said Victor, annoyed. "He looks to me very common and vulgar. I don't see how Mrs. Vivian can be willing to appear with him at a fashionable theatre like this."

"It's a pity he is a telegraph boy, he is so nice-looking."

Just then Frank, turning, recognized Victor and bowed. Victor could not afford not to recognize Mrs. Vivian's escort, and bowed in return.

But Victor was not the only one of Frank's acquaintances who recognized him that evening. In the upper gallery sat Dick Rafferty and Micky Shea, late fellow-boarders at the lodging-house. It was not often that these young gentlemen patronized Wallack's, for even a gallery ticket there was high-priced; but both wanted to see the popular play of "Ours," and had managed to scrape together fifty cents each.

"Dick," said Micky, suddenly, "there's Frank Kavanagh down near the stage, in an orchestra seat."

"So he is," said Dick. "Aint he dressed splendid though, wid kid gloves on and a flower in his button-hole, and an elegant lady beside him? See, she's whisperin' to him now. Who'd think he used to kape company wid the likes of us?"

"Frank's up in the world. He's a reg'lar swell now."

"And it's I that am glad of it. He's a good fellow, Frank is, and he won't turn his back on us."

This was proved later in the evening, for, as Frank left the theatre with Mrs. Vivian, he espied his two old friends standing outside, and bowed with a pleasant smile, much to the gratification of the two street boys, who were disposed to look upon their old friend as one of the aristocracy.

CHAPTER XVI.

FRANK AS A DETECTIVE

Of course Frank's daily duties were far the most part of a commonplace character. They were more varied, to be sure, than those of an errand-boy, or shop-boy, but even a telegraph messenger does not have an adventure every day. Twice in the next three weeks our hero was summoned by Mrs. Leroy to give her pet dog an airing. It was not hard work, but Frank did not fancy it, though he never failed to receive a handsome fee from the mistress of Fido.

One day Frank was summoned to a fashionable boarding-house in a side street above the Fifth-avenue hotel. On presenting himself, the servant said, "It's one of the boarders wants you. Stay here, and I'll let him know you've come."

"All right!" said Frank.

"Come right up," said the girl, directly after, speaking from the upper landing.

Frank ascended the stairs, and entered a room on the second floor. A gentleman, partially bald, with a rim of red hair around the bare central spot, sat in a chair by the window, reading a morning paper.

"So you're the telegraph boy, are you?" he said.

"Yes, sir."

"You are honest, eh?"

"I hope so, sir."

"Because I am going to trust you with a considerable sum of money."

"It will be safe, sir."

"I want you to do some shopping for me. Are you ever employed in that way?"

"I was once, sir."

"Let me see,—I want some linen handkerchiefs and some collars. Are you a judge of those articles?"

"Not particularly."

"However, I suppose you know a collar from a pair of cuffs, and a handkerchief from a towel," said the stranger, petulantly.

"I rather think I can tell them apart," said Frank.

"Now let me see how many I want," said the stranger, reflectively. "I think half-a-dozen handkerchiefs will do."

"How high shall I go?" asked Frank.

"You ought to get them for fifty cents apiece, I should think."

"Yes, sir, I can get them for that."

"And the collars—well, half-a-dozen will do. Get them of good quality, size 15, and pay whatever is asked."

"Yes, sir; do you want anything more?"

"I think not, this morning. I have a headache, or I would go out myself," explained the stranger. "I live up the Hudson, and I must go home this afternoon by the boat."

"Do you want me to buy the articles at any particular store?" inquired Frank.

"No; I leave that to your judgment. A large store is likely to have a better assortment, I suppose."

"Very well, sir."

"Come back as soon as you can, that's all."

"You haven't given me the money yet, sir," said Frank.

"Oh, I beg pardon! That is an important omission."

The stranger drew out a pocket-book, which appeared to be well filled, and extracted two bills of twenty dollars each, which he passed to Frank.

"This is too much, sir," said the telegraph boy. "One of these bills will be much more than sufficient."

"Never mind. I should like to have them both changed. You can buy the articles at different places, as this will give you a chance to get change for both."

"I can get them changed at a bank, sir."

"No," said the stranger, hastily, "I would rather you would pay them for goods. Shopkeepers are bound to change bills for a customer."

"I don't see what difference it makes to you as long as they are changed," thought Frank. However it was not his business to question his employer's decision.

Sixth avenue was not far distant, and as Frank was left to his own choice he betook himself hither on his shopping tour. Entering a large retail store, he inquired for gentleman's linen handkerchiefs.