Part 54 (2/2)

The Tin Box Horatio Alger 20160K 2022-07-22

He hoped the clerk had not heard the name by which he had been addressed; but he hoped in vain. The latter, pausing in his writing, came to the counter and said:

”Didn't this gentleman call you Congreve?”

”Yes,” admitted Congreve, uneasily.

”You just gave your name as John Baker.”

”Oh, no! That is, I didn't say my name was John Baker. That is the gentleman for whom I am selling the bonds.”

”Then they do not belong to you?”

”No.”

”Where does Mr. Baker live?”

”In New Haven,” answered Congreve, glibly, for he had a ready invention.

”We do not care to buy,” said the clerk, coldly, for there was something in Congreve's manner which made him suspicious.

”Really,” said Congreve, laughing in a constrained manner, ”you appear to be very cautious.”

”We have to be.”

”Shall I tell Mr. Baker it will be necessary for him to come to New York in person to dispose of his bonds? He is my uncle, and I simply am doing him a favor in disposing of them.”

”Very possibly; but I think we won't purchase them.”

”Oh, well! I can carry them elsewhere,” said Congreve, raging inwardly.

His acquaintance, whose recognition had interfered with his plans, followed him to the door, in rather a perplexed frame of mind.

”Where have you been all summer, Congreve?” he asked, thinking it best to ignore the scene which he had just witnessed.

”None of your business,” answered Congreve, sharply.

”What does this mean?” asked the young man, in astonishment.

”It means, sir, that I do not wish to keep up my acquaintance with you.

Didn't you know any better than to blurt out my name just now, and so get me into trouble?”

”If you are ashamed to appear under your real name, I don't care to know you,” answered the young man, with spirit. ”So, good-morning to you, Mr.

Congreve, or Mr. Baker, or whatever else you call yourself.”

”Good riddance,” said Congreve.

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