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Five Hundred Dollars; or, Jacob Marlowe's Secret, a novel by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 18. Bert Obtains Work |
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_ CHAPTER XVIII. BERT OBTAINS WORK To begin with, the letter, which Bert so unexpectedly received, contained a ten-dollar bill. "It must be from Uncle Jacob!" he thought. He turned to the next page, and looked for the signature. It was, as he anticipated, Jacob Marlowe. It was brief, as will be seen from the copy given below: MY DEAR NEPHEW: I am sorry to hear that you have lost your place in the factory. I think Albert Marlowe might at any rate have retained _you_, knowing how much you and your mother needed your weekly wages. I have written to him, asking him to take you back into the shop, but I do not suppose he will. It is more to test him than anything else that I have made the request. But, at any rate, we will give him a chance to deal considerately. Next week, Thursday, if you should not have found work, come up to the city and seek me at the office where I am employed, No. 111 Nassau Street, Room 19, and I may have it in my power to employ you in an important matter. Bring all your clothes with you, but take only money enough to get to the city, leaving the balance with your mother. Give my love to her, and tell her to keep up good courage. Your affectionate uncle, "I am to go to New York!" thought Bert joyfully. "Perhaps Uncle Jacob will find me a place there. I shall enjoy that ever so much. Let me see, I am to go next week, Thursday, and it is now Saturday. I wish the time had come!" Of course, Bert carried the letter home and showed it to his mother. "How kind Uncle Jacob is!" she murmured. "But I am afraid he is too generous. He is a poor man. He cannot afford to be giving us money all the time." "He is earning a good salary, you know, mother." "Only twelve dollars a week, Bert." "But that is a good deal. If I were earning twelve dollars a week I should feel rich." "It doesn't go very far in a large and expensive city like New York." "I could save half of it, if I had it. Would you mind much, mother, if I should take a place in New York?" "It would be terribly lonely for me, Bert," sighed Mrs. Barton. "But you would not oppose it?" "Not if your Uncle Jacob thought it best. He seems to be our only friend just now." "Yes; I don't know what we should have done without him." On Monday morning, considerably to his surprise, Bert received an offer of employment. About a mile from his mother's cottage lived Silas Wilson, an old farmer about sixty years of age, who had the reputation of being one of the meanest men in Lakeville. Even his horses and cows had a hungry look, and it was easy to see that they were not pampered or injured by over-feeding. This was the man who stopped his farm wagon in front of Mrs. Barton's dwelling, and spoke to Bert, who was just coming out of the front door. "Here, you, Bert Barton!" "Good-morning, Mr. Wilson," replied Bert. "Squire Marlowe tells me you are out of a job." "Yes, sir." "And I've been thinkin' I could give you work on my farm." Bert was not overjoyed at this announcement, but he felt that he ought to take into consideration any offer that might be made to him. "Would you expect me to board at your house?" he asked. "Sartin! All my boys board with me." "How much wages would you be willing to pay?" "Fifty cents a week and board. I calculate that would be about right." "Fifty cents a week and board?" repeated Bert, by no means dazzled by the tempting offer. "Yes. What do you say?" "I shouldn't be willing to work for that." "You wouldn't, hey? What did you get in the shoe shop?" "Four dollars a week." "Board's worth that, so I give you what's equal to four dollars and a half." Bert had heard something of the kind of board supplied by the farmer, and he was hardly prepared to rate it so high. "It wouldn't be worth that to me," he said. "I would rather work for three dollars and a half in cash, and board at home." "I've got to have my boy in the house," said Silas Wilson decidedly. "Come, now, what do you say?" He regarded Bert with some anxiety, for he had been suddenly left in the lurch by a hired man who had received a better offer elsewhere, and hardly knew where to turn for assistance. "I'll tell you what I'll do," said Bert. "I've got to go to New York on Thursday on business, but I'll come and work for you till Wednesday night for half a dollar and my board." "I'll give you thirty-five cents," replied the farmer cautiously. Bert shook his head. "Forty, then, and that's high pay for a half grown boy." "I'm more than half grown," returned Bert. "It's no use, Mr. Wilson, I won't take less than fifty cents." "Then jump on the wagon. It's a big price to pay, but I'm in a hole, and won't stop to dicker." "I will go and tell my mother first." "Well, hurry up, for part of the day is gone already." "I don't believe you'll like it, Bert," said Mrs. Barton. "Nor I, but I made up my mind to accept the first offer I got, and I shall feel better satisfied if I keep my word. I'll come round this evening, after work, and tell you how I like it as far as I've got." Bert seated himself in the wagon next to the farmer. "Be you the boy that Jones charged with stealin'?" asked Silas. "Yes, sir." "You didn't do it?" asked Silas, in some apprehension. "No, of course not!" answered Bert, indignantly. "Didn't you know I was acquitted, and that it was shown that there were two twenty-dollar bills?" "It's wicked to steal," observed the farmer, apparently a little anxious still. "Of course it is." "One of the boys that worked for me stole some money from a chest-of-drawers in my chamber. You see Mis' Wilson and me sleep in a bedroom on the first floor openin' out of the settin' room." "Did the boy take much?" asked Bert, in some curiosity. "Yes; he took a twenty-five cent piece," answered Silas Wilson, soberly. Bert wanted to laugh, but controlled his facial muscles, though he eyed his companion with a queer look. "That was a good deal of money," he said, soberly. "Yes, it was." "How did you find him out--the boy, I mean?" "He spent the money at Jones's store." "What did he buy with it?" "He bought some doughnuts." "Did he board with you?" asked Bert significantly. "Yes, he did." "Then," thought Bert, "I don't wonder much that he was tempted." "I've got fifty cents in my pocket," he said aloud, producing the coin. "I show it to you, so that if you hear of my spending money you needn't think I took it from you." Silas Wilson eyed the half-dollar with a covetous look, which the sight of money always brought to his face. "Hadn't you better give it to me to keep for you?" "No, thank you; I am very careful. I shall not lose it." "Boys ginerally are keerless. They are apt to lose money." "I don't believe you ever lose money, Mr. Wilson." "Not since I was a boy. I lost two cents once, but it was a lesson to me, and I've never lost a copper since." By this time they had reached the farm-house. The farmer drove into the barn and put up the horse. "Now we'll go to work," he said. The work which awaited Bert was in the cornfield. He was set to hoeing, and kept it up for three hours, along with the farmer in the adjoining row. Noon came, and Silas, pausing in his work, said: "I calculate Mis' Wilson will have dinner ready. We'll go to the house." _ |
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