Dan, The Newsboy

"For Nathan Gripp."

"Humph! Has Gripp discharged her?"

"No, sir; she has discharged him."

Mr. Jackson laughed, and nodded to his salesman. He rather enjoyed this allusion to his rival.

"Then she didn't like Gripp?"

"No, sir. He paid her starvation wages and made her wait for the money. He's a mean fellow."

"I don't admire him much myself," said the Englishman. "How much now did he pay for vest-making?"

"Twenty cents apiece."

"We don't pay much more ourselves. There is so much competition that we have to sell low."

"Mother would rather make for you at eighteen cents than for Gripp for twenty," said Dan.

Mr. Jackson was pleased, but he said, by way of drawing out Dan:

"How do you know but I am a mean skinflint, too?"

"You don't look like one," said the boy.

Mr. Jackson smiled graciously.

"Joseph," said he, "have we any vests ready for making?"

"Yes, sir. We have some bundles of half a dozen each."

"Take this boy's name and address and give him one. My boy, we will pay your mother twenty-five cents each, but we expect good work."

"You will be satisfied, sir," said Dan, confidently, and he left the store in excellent spirits.

"It's turned out right, after all," thought he; "but I am afraid we shall miss the money old Gripp owed mother. I don't know how we are going to pay the rent to-morrow. We shall be over two dollars short unless something turns up."

Dan carried the bundle of work home, and told his mother what had happened. She was pleased with the increase of pay, but that was in the future. It would be a week before she could collect any pay from Jackson & Co., and the landlord would not wait.

"I wish I could think of some way of raising money," said Dan, putting his face between his hands and looking thoughtful. "If you only had some jewels, mother, that we could raise money on now, we would be all right."

"I have nothing but my wedding-ring," said Mrs. Mordaunt, sadly.

"You must keep that, mother. Don't part with that unless you are obliged to."

"I would rather not, Dan, but if there is no other way–"

"There must be another way. I will find another way. Just don't think of it any more, mother. When does the landlord come?"

"Generally between twelve and one."

"Then we shall have all the forenoon to forage round in. It's only two dollars and a half we want. I ought to be able to raise two dollars and a half."

"That is a great deal of money to us now, Dan."

"I wonder whether Shorty wouldn't lend it to me?" said Dan, reflectively.

"Who is Shorty, my son?"

"He is a little hump-backed dwarf that keeps a cigar stand down on Broadway, not far from Trinity Church. He has a good trade, and doesn't waste his money. Yes, I will ask Shorty."

"I hope he will be willing to grant your request, Dan."

"I hope so, too. He's a good-natured fellow, Shorty is, and he'll do it, if he can. I'll see him the first thing to-morrow morning."

Somewhat cheered by Dan's confident tone, Mrs. Mordaunt went to sleep as early as usual, forgetting the trouble possibly in store.

The next morning, before selling his papers, Dan went round to Shorty's stand.

"Good-morning, Dan," said the dwarf, in a singularly melodious voice.

"Good-morning, Shorty. I thought I'd find you here."

"Yes, I begin business early."

"I am going to ask a favor of you," said Dan, abruptly.

"What is it, Dan?"

"Our rent's due to-day, and we are two dollars and a half short. I can make the fifty cents before noon. Can you lend me two dollars till I am able to pay it?"

To Dan's dismay Shorty shook his head.

"I wish I could, Dan, but there's something in the way."

"If you're afraid I won't pay you back, you needn't think of that. I never went back on a fellow that lent me money yet."

"I am not afraid of trusting you, Dan, but I haven't got the money."

"I understand," said Dan, coldly, for he suspected this to be a subterfuge.

"No, you don't understand," said Shorty, eagerly. "You think what I say is a sham, but you wouldn't if you knew all."

"If I knew all," repeated Dan, surprised.

"Yes, I shall have to tell you. I didn't mean to, but I don't want you to misunderstand me. The fact is, Dan," Shorty added, sheepishly, "I've got more than myself to provide for now."

"What? You don't mean to say?" ejaculated Dan.

"I was married yesterday, Dan," said the cigar dealer, almost apologetically, "and I've been buying furniture, and the fact is, I haven't got a cent to spare."

"Of course you haven't," said Dan. "I never dreamed of this. Is your wife—about your size?"

"No, Dan, she's rather tall. There she is, crossing the street. Do you see her?"

Dan looked, and saw a tall woman, of twenty-five or thereabouts, approaching the cigar stand. She was very plain, with a large mouth and a long, aquiline nose.

"That's my wife," said the cigar dealer, regarding his tall partner with evident pride. "Julia, my dear, this is my friend, Dan Mordaunt."

"Glad to see any friend of my husband," said the lady, in a deep, hoarse voice, which might have been mistaken for a man's. "He must come and see us."

"So I will, thank you," answered Dan, surveying the female grenadier with a wondering glance.

"We live at No. – Varick street, Dan, and I shall be very glad to see you any evening."

"By gracious!" said Dan to himself, "that's the queerest match I ever heard of. She might take Shorty up in her arms and carry him off. I don't think he'll beat her very often," and Dan smiled at the thought.

The morning wore away, and at eleven o'clock Dan had earned forty cents. He began to get discouraged. There didn't seem to be much prospect of raising the rent before twelve o'clock.

CHAPTER V.

EFFECTING A LOAN

As Dan stood on the sidewalk with his bundle of papers, and only forty cents toward the two dollars and a half required for the rent, he felt like many a business man who has a note to meet and not enough money on hand to pay it. Indeed, he was worse off, for generally business men have friends who can help them with a temporary loan, but Dan's friends were quite as poor as himself. One, however, Dick Stanton, a mere boy, had the reputation of being more saving than his companions. It was known that he had an account in the Bowery Savings Bank, and among the street boys he was considered wealthy.

"Perhaps I can borrow two dollars of him," thought Dan, as Dick passed him on his way to Canal street.

"I say, Dick," said Dan, "stop a minute. I want to speak to you."

"Go ahead, Dan."

"I want you to lend me two dollars. Our rent is due, and I can raise it all but that."

Dick shook his head, and was about to speak, when Dan said hurriedly, for he felt that it was his last chance:

"You needn't be afraid of me, Dick; I'll pay you sure, and give you more interest, too, than you get in the bank."

"I haven't got any money in the bank, Dan."

"You had last week," said Dan, suspiciously.

"So I had, but I haven't now."

"You don't want to lend—that's what's the matter."

"You are mistaken, Dan. I'm not a bit afraid of lending to you, but I have lent my money already."

"Who to?" asked Dan, ungrammatically, falling into a mistake made by plenty of greater age and better experience than himself. "Of course it isn't any of my business," he added, "if you don't want to tell."

"I don't mind telling you, Dan. I've lent it to my aunt. She's got two children, and a hard time to get along. Perhaps I shall never see it again, but I couldn't refuse her."

"Of course you couldn't," said Dan, heartily. "You've done right, and you won't be sorry for it. I wish I knew some way of making two dollars before twelve o'clock."

"Are you in urgent need of two dollars, my boy?" asked a pleasant voice.

Dan turned, and met the face of the stranger introduced in the first chapter.

"Yes, sir," he answered. "I want it the worst way."

"Have you been extravagant and run up bills, Dan?"

"No, sir; the only bill we have is the rent, and that comes due this noon."

"How much is it?"

"Six dollars, sir."

"I thought you said you wanted to borrow two dollars."

"I've got four dollars toward it, sir."

"Do you often fall behind when rent day comes, Dan?"

"No, sir; this is the first time in two years."

"How do you account for it? Has business been duller than usual during the last month?"

"Yes, sir, I think it has. There hasn't been as much news in the papers, and my sales have fallen off. There's another thing, too."

"What is that?"

"Mother has a dollar and twenty cents due her, and she can't collect it."

"Is it for making vests?"

"Yes, sir. Mr. Gripp won't pay till she has made a full dozen."

"That seems inconsiderate."

"Oh, he's a mean fellow."

"I've a great mind to buy the debt of you."

"I wish you would, sir," said Dan, eagerly. "That would leave only sixty cents short, for I shall make ten cents more before twelve o'clock, it's likely."

"It is only half-past eleven. To put you quite at ease, I mean to lend you five dollars, and help you collect your mother's bill."

"You are very kind, sir," said Dan, surprised and grateful; "but I don't need so much."

"You may get short again when I am not here to assist you."

"Are you not afraid I shall never pay you, sir?"

"That thought won't keep me awake nights," said the gentleman, laughing.

"You sha'n't lose anything by me, sir; I promise you that," said Dan, earnestly.

"Then come into the hotel with me, and we will arrange the matter in a business-like way."

"All right, sir."

Dan followed his new friend into the Astor House, and up stairs into a pleasant bedroom, which in its comfortable apartments reminded Dan of the days before his father's failure.

"I wish I could live so again," he thought. "I don't like a tenement-house."

Mr. Grant—for this was his name—took writing materials from his valise, and seated himself at a table.

"I am going to draw up a note for you to sign," he said. "I probably understand better than you the necessary form."

"Thank you, sir."

His pen ran rapidly over the paper, and in a minute or two he handed Dan the following form of acknowledgment:

"New York, Sept. 15, 18—.

"For value received I promise to pay to Alexander Grant five dollars on demand with interest."

"Now," said Mr. Grant, "put your name at the bottom."

Dan did so.

"I added 'with interest,' but only as a form; I shall require none."

"I would rather pay it, sir."

"That may be as you please. How much will six per cent. interest make it amount to in a year?"

"Five dollars and thirty cents," answered Dan, promptly.

"Good! I see you have not forgotten what you learned in school."

"I have ciphered through cube root," said Dan, with some pride. "I am not sure whether I remember that now, but I could do any sum in square root."

"It is a pity you could not have remained in school."

"I should like to; but it's no use crying for spilt milk."

"As long as you didn't spill it yourself," added Mr. Grant.

"No, sir; it was not my fault that I had to leave school."

Mr. Grant folded up the note and carefully deposited it in his wallet.

"The next thing is to hand you the money," he said. "Shall I give you a five-dollar bill, or small bills?"

"Small bills, sir, if it is just as convenient."

Mr. Grant placed in Dan's hands two two-dollar bills and a one.

"One thing more," he said. "Give me an order on Mr. Gripp for the money due your mother. It is as well to have it in your own handwriting. I won't tell you how to write it. See if you can find a way."

Dan wrote an order, which Mr. Grant pronounced satisfactory.

"On the whole," said he, "I believe I will take you with me when I call upon Mr. Gripp. Can you call here at three o'clock this afternoon?"

"Yes, sir."

"That is settled, then. We will see whether Mr. Gripp will be any more polite to me than he was to you."

"He will be surprised to see me in your company," said Dan, laughing.

"It is a good thing to surprise the enemy, Dan. A surprise often leads to victory. When does your landlord call for his rent?"

"Between twelve and one."

"Then I won't detain you longer. Remember your appointment at three."

"I won't forget it, sir."

"Well, I'm in luck!" said Dan to himself, as he emerged into the street. "Who would have thought that a stranger would lend me so large a sum? He's a trump, and no mistake. Now, if I could only sell the four papers I have left before twelve o'clock. I don't want to get stuck on them."

Fortune was not tired of favoring Dan. In ten minutes he had sold his papers, and turned his steps toward the humble home where his mother was awaiting, not without anxiety, the visit of an unamiable landlord.

CHAPTER VI.

MORE THAN A MATCH

Mrs. Mordaunt looked up anxiously as Dan entered the room. She had little expectation that he had been able in one morning to make up the large deficiency in the sum reserved for the rent, but there was a possibility, and she clung to that. Dan thought of postponing the relation of his good news, but when he saw his mother's anxious face, he felt that it would be cruel.

So when she said, "Well, Dan?" he nodded his head cheerfully.

"I've got it, mother," he said.

"Thank God for all His goodness!" ejaculated Mrs. Mordaunt, fervently.

"You see He hasn't forgotten us," said Dan, gleefully.

"No, my boy, it is a rebuke to my momentary want of faith. How could you raise so large a sum? Surely you did not earn it in one forenoon?"

"You're right there, mother. I'm not smart enough to earn two dollars before twelve o'clock."

"But you've got the money, Dan?"

"Look at this, mother," and Dan displayed the bills.

"Where did you get them, Dan?" asked his mother, astonished.

"I borrowed them."

"I didn't know we had a friend left, able or willing to lend us that sum."

"I borrowed them of Alexander Grant, of St. Louis, and gave my note for them," answered Dan, in a tone of some importance.

"Alexander Grant, of St. Louis! I don't remember that name."

"He's a new friend of mine, mother. I haven't known him over twenty-four hours. As the old friends have treated us so badly, I'm goin' in for new ones."

"You quite mystify me, Dan. Tell me all about it."

Dan did so.

"He's very kind to a stranger, Dan. Heaven will reward him, I am sure."

"I hope it will, mother. I wish I was a rich man. I should enjoy helping those who needed it. If I ever get rich—though it doesn't look much like it now—I will do all the good I can. I wonder rich men don't do it oftener."

"It springs from thoughtlessness sometimes, Dan."

"And from selfishness pretty often," added Dan, whose views of human nature were considerably less favorable than they had been in his more prosperous days. "A good many men are like Tom Carver, as he is now and will be when he is grown up."

"Perhaps there are more good and generous men than we suppose, Dan," urged his mother, who liked to think well of her fellow-beings.

"Like Mr. Gripp and our landlord, for instance. By the way, I hear Mr. Grab's steps on the stairs. I want to deal with him. Just you step into the bedroom, mother."

Mrs. Mordaunt had no desire to meet Mr. Grab, but she was a little afraid of Dan's impetuous temper.

"You will treat him respectfully, won't you, Dan?" she urged, as she turned to go into the adjoining room.

Dan's eyes danced with fun.

"I'll treat him with all the respect he deserves, mother," he answered.

Mrs. Mordaunt looked a little doubtful, for she understood Dan, but did not say more, for Mr. Grab was already knocking at the door.

"Don't come out, whatever you hear, mother," said Dan, in a low voice. "I'll come out all right, though I shall tantalize him a little at first."

The knock was repeated.

"Come in!" Dan called out, in a loud, clear tone.

The door opened, and a thin, undersized man, with bushy red hair and the look of a cross mastiff, entered the room.

Before his entrance Dan had seated himself in the plain wooden rocking-chair with his feet on a cricket. He looked quite easy and unconcerned.

"How are you, Grab?" he said, in a friendly manner.

"You might call me Mr. Grab," returned the landlord, angrily.

"I've no objection, I'm sure, Mr. Grab," said Dan. "How is your health? You're looking very yellow. Got the jaundice?"

"I am perfectly well, and I am not yellow at all. Do you mean to insult me?" demanded Grab, irritated.

"I wouldn't do that for a cent, Mr. Grab. I am glad you feel well, though you ain't looking so. It's very friendly of you to come round to see me and mother."

"Where is your mother?" snapped Mr. Grab.

"She is engaged just now, and won't have the pleasure of seeing you."

"But I must see her."

"Must! You are quite mistaken. You can't see her. You can see me."

"I've seen more of you than I want to already," said Grab.

"That isn't talking like a friend, Mr. Grab," said Dan, "when I'm so glad to see you. Perhaps you have come on business."

"Of course I have come on business, and you know very well what that business is, you young monkey."

"Thank you, Mr. Grab, you are very complimentary. It isn't about the rent, is it?"

"Of course it is!" snapped the landlord.

"Oh, dear, how could I have forgotten that it was rent-day," said Dan, with well-feigned confusion.

Mr. Grab's brow grew dark. He concluded that he wasn't going to collect the rent, and that always chafed him.

"It's your business to know when rent-day comes," he said, bringing down his fist with such emphasis on the table that he hurt his knuckles, to Dan's secret delight.

"Please don't break the table, Grab," said Dan.

"Oh, blast the table!" said Grab, surveying his red knuckles.

"We haven't got any blasting powder, and I don't think it would be a very interesting experiment. It might blow you up, for you are nearest to it."

"Have done with this trifling, boy," said the landlord.

"I am afraid you got out of the wrong end of the bed this morning, Mr. Grab. You should control yourself."

"Look here, boy," said the landlord, savagely, "do you know what I am tempted to do?"

"No, what is it?" asked Dan, indifferently.

"I am strongly tempted to chastise you for your impudence."

Dan looked critically at the small, thin form, and secretly decided that Mr. Grab would find it difficult to carry out his threat.

"Oh, how you frighten me!" he said. "I don't believe I shall sleep any to-night."

Mr. Grab made a motion to pound on the table again, but he looked at his red knuckles and wisely forbore.

"I can't waste any more time," he said. "You must pay your rent, or turn out. I want six dollars."

"Won't it do, Mr. Grab, if we pay you next week?"

"No, it won't. The rent must be paid to-day, or out you go."

"Why doesn't Dan pay him?" thought Mrs. Mordaunt, uneasily. "Really, he ought not to tease the poor man so. He has such a bad temper, he might hurt Dan."

"Mr. Gripp is owing mother for work. As soon as he pays her, I will call round at your office and pay you."

"It won't do," said Grab. "I won't let you stay here another night, and I mean to have security for my money, too."

So saying, the landlord seized the bundle of vests which lay on the table beside him.

This aroused Dan to action.

He sprang to his feet, his eyes flashing with anger.

"Put down that bundle, Mr. Grab!" he exclaimed.

"Then pay me my rent," said the landlord, recoiling a little.

"Put down that bundle before you say another word about rent. It isn't my mother's or mine. You have no business with it."

"What do you mean, boy, by your impudence?" demanded the landlord, a little uneasily.

"I mean that if you take that bundle from the room, I shall put you in charge of the nearest policeman on a charge of stealing."

"That is nonsense," said Grab; but he looked nervous, and laid down the bundle.

"All right, Grab," said Dan. "Now, as I don't want any more of your company, I'll pay the rent, if you'll give me a receipt."

"Have you got the money?" asked Grab, astonished.

"Of course I have. I never told you I hadn't."

"You made me think so."

"It isn't my business what you think. There, that is settled, and now, Mr. Grab, I have the honor of wishing you good-evening. I hope you won't hurt your knuckles again."

Mr. Grab left the room, inwardly wishing that he could wring Dan's neck.

"Oh, Dan, how could you?" asked his mother, reproachfully, as she re-entered the room.

"He deserves it all," said Dan. "Didn't he turn out the poor Donovans on a cold day last winter? I have no pity for him."

"He may turn us out."

"Not as long as we pay the rent."

CHAPTER VII.

MR. GRIPP IS WORSTED

Punctually at three o'clock Dan knocked at the door of Mr. Grant's room in the Astor House.

That gentleman looked at his watch as he admitted our hero.

"You are punctual to the minute," he said. "Your watch keeps excellent time."

"I'll tell you why," answered Dan, smiling. "I always keep it at Tiffany's. I don't dare to carry it for fear it will get out of order."

"You ought to have a watch," said Mr. Grant. "That will come in time."

"I hope so," said Dan. "Then I could be sure to keep my business appointments. Now I have to depend on the City Hall clock. I'd rather look at it than carry it round."

"Well, Dan, do you think Mr. Gripp is prepared to receive us?"

"He'll be glad to see you. He'll think you are going to buy some clothes. I don't think he'll be very happy to see me."

"He must see us both, or neither. Has he any good clothes?"

"Yes, sir—good enough for me. I don't think you would like to patronize his establishment."

"By the way, Dan, you have given me an order for money, and I have not handed you the equivalent."

"You may not get the money, sir."

"I will make the effort at any rate. By the way, Dan, that coat of yours is getting shabby."

"It is the best I have, sir. Boys in my business don't have to dress much."

"That gives me an idea. Please hand me my hat, and we will start."

The two left the Astor House together. One or two of Dan's associates whom they encountered on the way, were surprised to see him walking on terms of apparent friendly companionship with a well-to-do stranger, but decided that Dan was probably acting as his guide.

They found Mr. Gripp standing as usual in the door-way of his shop watching for customers. He did not at first observe Dan, but his attention was drawn to Mr. Grant.

"Walk in, sir," he said, obsequiously. "You will find what you want here. Styles fashionable, and as for prices—we defy competition."

Alexander Grant paused, and looked critically about him. He understood very well the sort of establishment he was about to enter, and would not have thought of doing so but in Dan's interests.

He stepped over the threshold, and Dan was about to follow, when the eagle eye of Mr. Gripp recognized our hero.

"Clear out, you young rascal!" he exclaimed. "Don't you come round here any more."

Dan did not answer, for he knew Mr. Grant would do so for him.

Mr. Grant turned back, and said, quietly:

"To whom are you speaking, sir?"

"I beg your pardon, sir—it's that boy."

"Then, sir, you will oblige me by stopping at once. That boy is in my company and under my protection."

Nathan Gripp stared as if transfixed.

"Do you know him, sir?" he asked.

"Yes, sir."

"You are mistaken in him, sir. He's an artful young rascal. He was here yesterday, and acted outrageously. He assaulted my clerk and insulted me."

"I have nothing to do with that. He is in my company, and if I enter the store he will."

"Oh, of course, if he's with you he can come in. Samuel, show the gentleman what he wants."

Dan smiled, and nothing but a sense of his own interest prevented Mr. Gripp from objecting to his entrance.

"What will I show you, sir?" asked the callow young man named Samuel, glaring at Dan in vivid remembrance of the blow which had doubled him up.