Part 15 (1/2)

When the fortnight was up, Tom received an unexpected offer, that the Irishman, through some acquaintance, secured for him. It was the opportunity to sell newspapers and periodicals on the Hudson River Railroad. He was to leave New York in the morning, ”working the train” on the way up to Albany, and come down again in the afternoon.

This was such a big advance on what he had been doing, that he joyfully accepted the offer, even though he held not the slightest intention of following it as a continuous occupation. It would do very well until he could obtain something more suitable.

The lad found at the end of the first week that he was much better off than he antic.i.p.ated. The privilege was conceded to him of charging double the price for the papers which was asked on the streets or at the news-stands, and his percentage of profits was very large.

Tom held his position for a couple of months to the satisfaction of his employer, and he had acc.u.mulated quite a sum, which was deposited in a savings-bank that wasn't likely to ”suspend” for the benefit of the officers.

Spring had opened, the Hudson was clear of ice, and his business became quite agreeable.

It happened that he encountered, on several occasions, some of his former friends of Briggsville, who could not conceal their surprise at seeing him engaged in selling newspapers.

Tom could not always keep back the flush that stole over his handsome face at such times. But he began to believe there was a n.o.bility in honest labor like his, of which he had no right to feel ashamed.

There were any number of young fellows who envied him his position, and who were ready to use all sorts of artifices to have him ”bounced.”

Slanderous reports were carried to his employers, who took measures to investigate them, reaching the conclusion that Tom was without a superior in the way of integrity, politeness, and faithfulness.

The tiny gold chain and locket obtained from the drowning girl in so singular a manner, he preserved with a religious devotion. It was deposited in the savings-bank, beyond all danger of loss, and he would have starved to death before consenting to part with it.

The sweet face within the locket was as vividly fixed in his memory as if the original were a sister of his, and he never pa.s.sed through the train without looking around, in the hope of seeing the little girl herself.

The only sister which Tom had ever had died in infancy, and there was something which linked the memory of the two in the tenderest and most sacred manner.

There were true modesty and manhood in the n.o.ble fellow, when he overheard a visitor in his employer's office relate the incident of the rescue, without suspecting that the hero stood before him, and never dropped the slightest intimation that he knew anything about it.

One bright spring morning Tom was pa.s.sing through the smoking-car, when a young man, very flas.h.i.+ly dressed, whistled to him, and asked for a copy of a sporting paper.

Tom had but a single copy left. This he tossed over into the lap of the applicant in that careless, off-hand style which characterizes the veteran newsboy.

The purchaser pa.s.sed over a quarter in coin, and as Tom pulled out a handful of silver from his pocket, from which to select the change, the flashy young man said,--

”Never mind, sonny; I'll make you a present of that.”

”But you have given me five times the price of the paper,” said Tom, thinking there was an error.

”That's all right. When I see a fellow of your style I like to encourage him.”

Tom thanked him and pa.s.sed on.

The incident would not be worth recording but for the fact that it was repeated the next day, when the same young man bought a _Herald_, and compelled the lad to accept a bright silver quarter in payment, without allowing him to give any change.

Six times on successive days was this done, and then the liberal purchaser disappeared from the train.

Aside from the repet.i.tion of his favors, it was rather curious that on each occasion he should have placed a silver quarter in the palm of Tom.

Each coin was of the same date as that year, and was so bright and s.h.i.+ny that Tom believed they must have come directly from the mint. They looked so handsome, indeed, that he determined to keep them as pocket-pieces, instead of giving them out in change.

There is nothing like actual experience to sharpen a fellow's wits; and, on the first day the munificent stranger vanished, a dim suspicion entered the head of Tom that some mischief was brewing.

That night in New York he examined the coins more minutely than heretofore. Half an hour later he walked down to the wharf and threw them into the river.