Home > Authors Index > Horatio Alger > Sam's Chance And How He Improved It > This page
Sam's Chance And How He Improved It, a novel by Horatio Alger |
||
Chapter 14. The Savings Bank Book |
||
| < Previous |
Table of content |
Next > |
|
________________________________________________
_ CHAPTER XIV. THE SAVINGS BANK BOOK During the three months, which to Henry brought good fortune, Sam had grown no richer. Indeed, just at this time he was very "hard up." He had applied to Henry for a loan, but as he was already indebted to his more prudent roommate, the latter declined to lend. "I think you are mean, Henry," said Sam, in disappointment. "I can't help it, Sam. You can live on five dollars a week just as well as I can." "You've got a lot of money in the bank," said Sam, reproachfully. "Because I am more prudent than you." "I thought you were a friend of mine." "So I am; but I cannot encourage your extravagance. It wouldn't be a friendly thing to do." "Oh, it's easy enough for you to find excuses; you don't want to lend, that's all." "I don't want to give, for that is what it would amount to." Sam saw that it would be of no use to persist in his request, and he went out sulkily. That day he found a bunch of keys in the street. This was not a very valuable discovery, and he was tempted at first to throw them down again, when an idea struck him. He dropped the keys into his pocket, and when his lunch hour came, instead of going to a restaurant, as usual, he hurried back to his boarding-house. The landlady met him as he was going upstairs. "Have you lost your place?" she asked, suspiciously; for in this case Sam would probably be unable to pay his weekly rent. "Oh, no," said Sam. "I left something at home, that's all." He entered his room, and carefully locked the door behind him. Then he got down on his knees, and, one after the other, he tried the lock of Henry's trunk with the keys he had found. The fifth opened it. Sam blushed with shame, as he saw the inside of the trunk, with its contents neatly arranged. In spite of his faults he had some honorable feelings, and he felt that he was engaged in a contemptible business. He was violating the confidence of his friend and roommate, who had been uniformly kind to him, though he had declined to lend him money latterly. Sam admitted to himself that in this refusal he was justified, for he knew very well that there was very little chance of repayment. Sam hoped to find some money in the trunk; but in this hope he was destined to be disappointed. Henry was in the habit of making a weekly deposit in the savings-bank, and therefore he had no surplus stock of money. But at the bottom of his trunk was his savings-bank book. Sam opened it, and his eyes sparkled when he counted up the deposits, and found that they amounted to twenty-six dollars. "I didn't think Henry had so much money," he said to himself. He thrust the book into his pocket, and hurriedly locked the trunk. He went downstairs, and hastened to the bank, which, unlike the Sixpenny Savings Bank, was located downtown, and not far from the City Hall. Henry had selected it on account of its nearness. Sam entered the banking house, and went to the window of the paying clerk. He had accompanied Henry to the bank more than once, and knew just where to go. "How much do you want?" asked the clerk, in a business-like tone. "Twenty dollars," replied Sam, who had made up his mind not to take the whole. This was not due to any particular consideration, but on the way he had read the rules of the bank, and ascertained that a week's notice would be necessary before the whole account could be withdrawn. The clerk filled an order for twenty dollars, and pushed it over to Sam. "Sign that," he said. Sam hastily signed the name of "Henry Martin," and passed it back. The clerk went to a large book, and compared the signature with the one recorded therein. Now, there was a considerable difference between Sam's and Henry's handwriting, and he detected it at once. "You are not Henry Martin," he said, on his return. Sam was astonished at this discovery, but was too much alarmed to deny it. "No, sir," he said. "What is your name?" "Sam Barker." "What made you sign the name of Henry Martin?" asked the bank officer, suspiciously. "He is my roommate." "Did he ask you to draw this money for him?" "Yes," answered Sam. "He ought to have known that we would not pay it except upon his written order." "He thought it would do just as well if I signed his name," said Sam, growing bolder. "Then, he was mistaken." "Can't you give me the money, then?" "No, he must come himself." "All right!" said Sam. "I'll tell him." He spoke so naturally that the clerk was inclined to think his suspicions were needless, and that Sam was really an authorized agent of the real depositor. But when he got into the street, Sam's vexation found vent. "Everything goes against me," he grumbled. "It hasn't done me a bit of good taking this book. I shall only have the trouble of putting it back again. I can't do it now, for I must go back to the store, without my lunch, too." He counted upon replacing the book before it was missed; but Henry reached home first, and discovered his loss, as related in the preceding chapter. _ |
||