Part 39 (1/2)

Theodore rubbed his eyes, and stared in speechless wonder, while Pliny gave vent to his emotions in lucid ejaculatory sentences:

”Well! upon my word and honor!--As sure as I'm alive!--If that don't beat me!”

Meantime Theodore dashed abruptly across the road and entered the store, Pliny following more leisurely, still staring at the magic sign. The clerks all bowed and smiled most broadly as the junior partner pa.s.sed down the store; but that gentleman was too excited to notice them closely, and hurried into the private office. Mr. Stephens came forward on his entrance, his face all aglow with smiles, and cordially held out his hand.

”Mr. Stephens!” gasped Theodore, ”how--what?” and then, utterly overcome, sank into one of the office-chairs, and covered his face with his hands.

”My dear boy,” said Mr. Stephens, with an outward calmness and an inward chuckle, ”what is the matter with you this morning?”

”What does it mean, sir? How came you to? How could you?”

”Lucid questions, my boy! I stand for one p.r.o.noun, but who is _it_?”

”_You_ know, Mr. Stephens. The sign! The name!”

”As for the sign, my dear fellow, it announces the name of the firm, as heretofore. I hope my partner will pardon me for keeping my name first.

The new name means a great deal to me. It has meant a great deal in past days, and I mean it shall mean a great deal more in many ways. Are you answered, my friend?”

Then followed a long, long talk--eager and excited on Theodore's part; earnest and serious on Mr. Stephens'--the substance of which was that the young clerk had been entered as full partner in the extensive and ever-increasing business, or at least was to be so entered as soon as what Mr. Stephens called the trivialities of the law had been attended to.

”You told me a few days ago that you had fully decided to make the mercantile business yours for life, and as I thought I could offer you as good advantages as you could find elsewhere, I couldn't resist the temptation to give you a bit of a surprise,” explained Mr. Stephens, as Theodore still looked bewildered. ”I hope you are not offended at my rudeness?” This he added gravely, but with a little roguish twinkle in his eyes.

”But, Mr. Stephens, how can it be? Why I I haven't a cent of money in the world to put in the firm. It is utterly unjust to yourself,”

explained Theodore, in distressed tones.

”I am not so sure of that first statement, my boy;” and now both eyes and face expressed a business-like gravity. ”I remember, if you do not, that I am twenty thousand dollars better off to-day than I should have been but for your courage and unparalleled presence of mind. Moreover, you have more funds than you seem to be aware of. Do you remember a certain ten-dollar bill which you brought to me one midnight? Well, I held that bill in my hand, intending to present it to you to a.s.sist you in setting up business for yourself; but on learning that your intentions were to open a hotel, I concluded to await the development of affairs and invest otherwise. After I became conversant with your peculiar ideas concerning hotels, I discovered that you needed no a.s.sistance from me. But that ten dollars I invested sacredly for you, and a more remarkable ten dollars never came into my hands. Everything that I have touched through it has turned to gold. Your bank-book is in the left hand private drawer of my secretary. So, young man, you can investigate the state of your funds whenever you choose, and bestow whatever portion of them upon the new firm that your wisdom suggests.”

Theodore still remained with his elbow leaning on the table, and his face shaded with his hand. After a little silence Mr. Stephens came around to him and placed two hands trembling with earnestness on his slightly bowed head, and spoke in gentler tones than he had used heretofore.

”Above and beyond all these things, my dear boy, you are the only son I ever had, and you have well and faithfully filled a son's place to me.

May I not do what I will for my own?”

CHAPTER XXVI.

THEODORE'S INSPIRATION.

”New York postmark--that's from Ingolds & Ferry, I suppose. Chicago, that must be from Southy, and this is Ned's scrawling hand; now for the fourth--Albany. Who the mischief writes me from Albany?”

This was Mr. Stephens' running commentary on his letters. He broke the seal of the Albany one, and glanced at its contents.

”Um,” he said, meditatively, leaning his elbow on the table and his chin on his hand. ”Now to whom shall I send this appeal? I don't know of any one. Mallery?”

”Yes, sir,” answered Theodore from behind the screen.

”Do you know of any one who could go to Albany in December and give--stop, I know myself. Yes, that's an idea.”

”You certainly know more than I do then,” answered Theodore, laughing.

”What do you happen to be talking about, sir?”