Produced by Marilynda Fraser-Cunliffe, Emmy and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net Dick the Bank Boy Or A Missing Fortune BY FRANK V. WEBSTER AUTHOR OF "ONLY A FARM BOY," "BOB THE CASTAWAY," "COMRADES OF THE SADDLE," "AIRSHIP ANDY," ETC. ILLUSTRATED NEW YORK CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY PUBLISHERS BOOKS FOR BOYS * * * * * By FRANK V. WEBSTER * * * * * 12mo. Cloth. Illustrated. * * * * * ONLY A FARM BOY TOM, THE TELEPHONE BOY THE BOY FROM THE RANCH THE YOUNG TREASURE HUNTER BOB, THE CASTAWAY THE YOUNG FIREMEN OF LAKEVILLE THE NEWSBOY PARTNERS THE BOY PILOT OF THE LAKES TWO BOY GOLD MINERS JACK, THE RUNAWAY COMRADES OF THE SADDLE THE BOYS OF BELLWOOD SCHOOL THE HIGH SCHOOL RIVALS AIRSHIP ANDY BOB CHESTER'S GRIT BEN HARDY'S FLYING MACHINE DICK, THE BANK BOY DARRY, THE LIFE SAVER Copyright, 1911, by CUPPLES & LEON COMPANY * * * * * DICK, THE BANK BOY [Illustration: TURNING TO DICK HE CONTINUED TO QUESTION HIM. _Dick the Bank Boy_ _Page 137_] CONTENTS CHAPTER PAGE I. THE MEETING ON THE ROAD 1 II. A MOTHER WORTH FIGHTING FOR 9 III. DICK'S FIRST WAGES 17 IV. IN SEARCH OF A JOB 24 V. MR. GRAYLOCK RECEIVES A SURPRISE 32 VI. BOUND FOR THE OLD FISHING HOLE 40 VII. DICK MAKES A GALLANT RESCUE 48 VIII. THE COMING OF A LETTER 57 IX. GREAT NEWS 66 X. THE MEETING IN THE BANK 74 XI. FRIENDLY ADVISE 83 XII. GATHERING CLOUDS 92 XIII. WANTED IN THE CASHIER'S OFFICE 100 XIV. UNDER SUSPICION 108 XV. MR. GRAYLOCK SEEMS DISAPPOINTED 117 XVI. FORTUNE'S FAVORS 125 XVII. THE INVESTIGATION 133 XVIII. THE RECEIVING TELLER FREES HIS MIND 142 XIX. NOT FOR SALE 149 XX. A RED LETTER DAY 157 XXI. GOOD WORDS ON EVERY SIDE 165 XXII. A REMARKABLE BIT OF INTELLIGENCE 173 XXIII. NEARING A CLIMAX 181 XXIV. MR. GRAYLOCK MEETS HIS WATERLOO 190 XXV. CONCLUSION 198 DICK, THE BANK BOY CHAPTER I THE MEETING ON THE ROAD "Get out of my way, Dick Morrison!" The boy who had been trudging along the narrow road looked up in surprise at hearing himself spoken to so suddenly, though he recognized the domineering voice even before catching sight of the speaker. "You already have half of the road, Ferd Graylock; to give you more I'd have to back down in the ditch, and I don't care to do that," he replied, standing perfectly still and watching with some amusement the zigzag movements of the other, now close upon him. Ferd was mounted on a new motor-cycle, purchased with savings out of his pocket money, and with which machine he had been of late scouring the surrounding country. Evidently the little motor had broken down while he was some distance away from home, necessitating considerable walking up hill and hard pedalling on the levels. Weary, and over-heated by his exertions, he was naturally in an ugly temper at the time he met Dick on the narrowest place along the entire road, where a ditch on one side and a fence on the other, left only enough room for a single vehicle at a time to pass. Just then, judging from his erratic swinging from side to side, Ferd needed the whole road, and seeing this, the other lad stood by, ready to guard himself if the cumbersome machine headed his way. His suspicions as to the intentions of Ferd to run him down seemed well founded, for, pretending to be unable to control the heavy machine, the rider came lunging directly at the standing boy, who would have been struck only for a quick leap to one side, by means of which he avoided a collision. But alas! the edge of the road was closer than Ferd had calculated on when maliciously endeavoring to give the pedestrian a scare, and as a consequence the motor-cycle plunged down into the ditch. Ferd managed through a quick effort to leap off his seat just in time to avoid being overwhelmed in the disaster. He scrambled to his feet choking with both dust and anger. His beautiful machine lay with its front buried in the water of the ditch, and the sight was so disagreeable that Ferd seemed to lose what little discretion he generally boasted. "There, see what you've done, Dick Morrison!" he exclaimed, fiercely. "Well, now, I like that," answered the other, hardly knowing whether to laugh or show indignation; "you try to run me down, and when I step out of the way to avoid an upset you accuse me of having had a hand in the mess. Why did you jump off when by a twist of the handlebars you could have saved the machine? Suppose you blame yourself, not me." "But you saw that I had lost control, and if you'd only wanted you could have stopped its plunge; but you'd rather see me get into a peck of trouble. How d'ye suppose I'm ever going to lug that heavy thing back up to the road now?" demanded Ferd, spitefully. "Oh! I don't mind giving you a hand at that. I hate to see such a fine machine lying in the mud like a mired cow," declared Dick, cheerfully. Ferd looked at him dubiously, as though his spirit urged him to decline the generous offer of assistance made by one he chose to regard as his enemy; but the road was lonely, no one might come along for some time to help him, and the motor-cycle was too heavy for him to drag out of the hole unassisted. So he swallowed his pride, and grudgingly allowed Dick to take hold on one side while he dragged at the other, and in this fashion the machine was speedily placed once more on dry land. Of course it was pretty well soiled, and did not look very much like the spick-and-span new wheel that a few days back had been the envy of every boy in Riverview. Dick, who could not bear to see anything abused, immediately snatched up a handful of grass from the side of the road under the fence, and commenced to wipe the worst of the muck away. "Never mind bothering yourself about that; I guess I can attend to it when I get home. It wouldn't have happened anyway if I hadn't met you on the road," said Ferd, with a return of his bitterness. Dick looked at him queerly, and then threw down the rough wiper he had been using. "I guess you're right. And as I didn't do anything to trouble you it looks as if you just wanted to knock me into the ditch. It's a case of the biter bitten, Ferd. When you see me helping you pull your old machine out of the ditch again you'll know it." Filled with indignation he turned and walked rapidly away, leaving the other looking after him, still angry and yet perhaps somewhat ashamed in the bargain. This was not the first time these two lads found themselves facing one another with fire in their eyes. In school they seemed to be constantly ranged on opposite sides, and the rivalry had extended into many of the natural pastimes indulged in by growing boys, from baseball in the summer to football in the autumn and skating and hockey in the winter. The rivalry seemed unequal from one point of view, since Ferd was the only son of Archibald Graylock, proprietor of the big department store in the town, and known as a wealthy man; while Dick lived in an humble cottage with his mother, a widow, and their circumstances had been growing more and more straightened during the last year, so that our hero was seriously contemplating giving up all hope of attending school again in the fall, and seeking a position. Dick's father had been a carpenter known for his many good qualities; he had by frugality and prudence saved a sum which had been invested as he thought judiciously, and would serve as a means of support to his little family in case anything happened to him. Seriously injured in an accident he had lingered for nearly a year and then been taken, leaving the mother and son to face the world. For several years things went along smoothly, for Mrs. Morrison was an excellent housekeeper, and could make a dollar go a great ways without appearing to be niggardly; but unexpected misfortune overtook them, and the company in which most of the carpenter's savings had been invested struck a reef, so that not only did the little income cease from this source but there was danger that the principal might also be lost. This was the serious condition of affairs in Dick's home at the time he met his bitter rival on the road; he had been buried in thought, trying to see what his duty might be, and as he continued on after leaving Ferd he endeavored to forget the unpleasant incident, and resume his planning. Chances for work were not very abundant in and around Riverview. Dick knew little about farming, and besides, even though he should secure a job in that line he was aware that most farmers insisted upon their help being on the ground all the time, as they had to get out long before daylight to feed the stock, and since he could not leave his mother alone he had to pass any such opportunity by. There was the bank of which Mr. Gibbs was president; he had always yearned to do something along that line; but having no experience he had never dared apply for a position there, though envying Charles Doty, who ran messages and made himself generally useful in the bank, "learning the ropes, so that in time he could step into Mr. Gibbs' shoes," as he used often to say with pride. For a lad with business ambitions there remained only the two grocery stores, and the grand emporium conducted by Mr. Graylock, an institution he chose to call a department store, and which covered quite a large space of ground. Strange to say Dick had just been making up his mind to call on this latter enterprising merchant and solicit an opening, at the time he met the hopeful son on the road, and had another disagreeable experience with Ferd; indeed, it seemed as though they could never come together without some trouble arising, though Dick had resolved time and again that he would not be the first to pick a quarrel. Now he reflected that it was almost useless approaching Mr. Graylock, for he felt sure that the gentleman must have heard about the time when he and Ferd engaged in a rough and tumble fight on the baseball field, after the other had deliberately struck him, and called him a coward because he was so slow to take off his coat and engage in a combat that proved to be rather gory for Ferd--yes, he _knew_ this must be the case, for his mother had looked serious for some little time, and he heard that the rich man was seen leaving their humble cottage one afternoon while he was away. So he felt undecided as to what he should attempt, and all the way home he pondered over the situation, determined to do something to chase away the look of concern which every now and then he saw gathering on his mother's gentle face, when she did not dream that he was observing her. "She doesn't want me to know how hard things are growing," he mused. "She thinks of me all the time, and is the dearest little mother in the world. I'd give up anything for her, and I'm going to find a position somewhere, somehow. That's settled. There's got to be more money coming in through the door of the Morrisons, and it's up to Richard to set the stream in motion." His resolution was all very well, but it was not so easy to decide where this fountain could be tapped that was to pour its tiny golden stream into their almost empty reservoir. Again and again he shook his head resolutely as he trudged along, and the expression on his face was that of one who has made up his mind and will not allow himself to be turned aside by any obstacle; it was the look of a _winner_, and when his mates saw Dick Morrison set his teeth in that determined way they knew he was bound to lead his side to victory, no matter what the opposition. Dick presently drew near the little cottage in which he and his mother had lived ever since he could remember, and which, with its flower garden, was as pretty a spot as one could find along the river road just outside the town. Thinking only of showing a cheery face to the one who had ever been his best friend and counsellor on earth he tried to forget his worries, and starting to whistle merrily opened the gate and passed up the walk. CHAPTER II A MOTHER WORTH FIGHTING FOR Perhaps had Dick been less noisy as he came up the walk he might have caught his mother in tears; for he felt sure he detected the signs of recent weeping upon her thin face as he entered and threw the package he was carrying on the table. "I'm glad you found Mrs. Oliver at home," said Mrs. Morrison, "and she had the work ready. I can start on it to-night, and perhaps finish the whole thing this week," and she opened the package, and examined the goods that had been in the wrapper. "You're working too hard as it is, mother," said Dick, putting an arm around her and looking up into her face, "and I've determined that this sort of thing just can't go on any longer." "What do you mean, my son?" she asked. "You know that since I am a good needle-woman and the times are so hard with us just at present, I am fortunate to be able to get work from several of the ladies around Riverview. Perhaps it will not have to be for long, Dick, dear." "I know it won't if I have any say in the matter. You're sitting up every night sewing long after I've gone to bed. Why, one night, you remember I woke up and it was after twelve, yet you were still sewing. You are getting thin and careworn, mother. Do you think I don't notice it? And do you imagine I can stand it right along? There has got to be a change, that's all. I've made my mind up." She looked into his resolute face, and seeing the love that shone in his eyes felt that after all her burdens could not be so hard when Heaven had given her such a stalwart son to be the staff of her old age. "And what have you decided, Dick? Will you get after that company and force them to begin paying dividends again? I think that would be a blessing to more widows than one; but I'm afraid it would prove a task beyond your strength, dear," she said, patting him on the head as he stood beside her, almost three inches taller than his mother. "No, I don't think I could manage that, but there is one thing I can and will do and that is to find a job, so that I can be bringing in something every week to help out. Then you needn't sit up at night as you do. Please don't say anything against it, mother. I've made up my mind to it. The vacation has begun, and unless things take a turn for the better, school and Dick Morrison have parted company for good. I'm only sorry I don't seem to have inherited any of father's genius for tools, or I could get a position as an assistant to Mr. Plane, the carpenter. But I've been considering the situation, and I'm going to find some way to bring in a few dollars each week, even if I have to set out to be a fisherman." She smiled with pride, and in that moment the fond mother did not envy the wife of the rich department store keeper who rode about in her carriage and delighted to let other people realize just how small and mean they appeared in her sight. "Well, it is nice to hear you say all that, Richard, for it tells me that your heart is true, and that no matter what befalls I can depend on my boy's love. But there's no use crossing a river before we come to it. I shall offer no opposition to you doing any honest work that comes your way during vacation; and if times have not improved when school opens again, I suppose I must endure the thought of your continuing on. You have always been a lucky fisherman, and what you bring home has been so sweet and palatable that it seems to me you could easily find purchasers for all you could catch," she said, leaving him, to begin to look after the supper that was cooking on the stove. "Only if everything else fails can I try that," he explained. "You see one can't depend on the fish to do their part of the contract. Some days they refuse to bite at all, and then other days are stormy. But I've got several ideas that I'm bound to try out, and I'm going to start to-morrow." That was all he said, for Dick never liked to boast in advance of what he expected to accomplish, having learned from sad experience that very often a snag is apt to sink the craft freighted with hopes, and when least expected. He busied himself setting the table, while his mother lighted the lamp and prepared to serve their frugal meal. It was a time of year when very little came in from the small garden that lay back of the house, and which they took care of in common, Dick doing all the hard work and his mother some of the weeding; later on they expected that the proceeds from this patch would provide many a good meal, should the weather smile upon their united efforts. Being naturally a boy who looked upon the bright side of things, as a healthy lad might be expected to do, Dick had proved a blessing to his mother times without number. He laughed and chatted as they sat at the table, and for the time being the poor little woman really forgot that there was such a thing as anxiety in this world. Even the little encounter with Ferd was related with more or less humor; and yet while Mrs. Morrison found herself compelled to smile at Dick's quaint description of the way in which Ferd over-leaped himself, at the same time a shade of worry crept over her face. "Oh! I hope he will not tell his father about it and try to lay the blame on your shoulders," she said, sighing. "But why should he, mother? I had nothing to do with it, and never even touched his old motor-cycle until I offered to help him get it out of the ditch? Now you never told me that Mr. Graylock came around to complain about me that other time, but I guessed it all the same. It was just like him to threaten that he would do something awful if I ever put a hand on his precious son again. Poor little fellow, he's only three inches taller than me. You know I told you all about that trouble at the time, mother?" he expostulated, indignantly. "Yes, yes, so you did, my son, and I told Mr. Graylock that you could not have been to blame--that after all it was only a boyish dispute, and no serious damage had been done. He called you a bully and a terror, and said he would make an example of you if it ever happened again. Oh! he frightened me so." "The old wretch, to come and talk that way to a lady, and she a widow, too. What do you suppose father would have done to him if he had been alive? Nearly every boy there will tell you I refused to fight up to the time he struck me in the face and called me mean names. Then I commenced. Perhaps I did hit him a little harder than I should, but I was stirred up, and meant to teach him to leave me alone after that. I guess I did it all right," and Dick, boy-like, smiled grimly as, in imagination he could see the deplorable condition of his antagonist when Ferd humbly admitted that he had had enough. "But you see it happened that his father met him on the road while his face was all covered with blood. It was only because he had been struck on the nose; but it looked terrible to his father, and angered him. I hope you will not have any trouble with that ill-natured boy again, son," she said, earnestly. "I never want to, mother, nor with any fellow; but there's a limit even to the patience of Job. Father always taught me never to seek a quarrel; but at the same time never to run away from one like a coward. I try to follow his advice, mother." "Yes, I am sure you do. And your father was a peaceable man; yet I can remember once or twice when he took off his coat and thrashed a bully until he howled for mercy. In fact, to tell the truth, that was the way I first made his acquaintance as a boy, for he came to my assistance when a big ruffian of an overgrown coward had stopped me on the road and declared he was going to kiss me. Of course I screamed and your father, then a lad learning the carpenter trade, jumped from the roof of a kitchen near by and came to my rescue." She laughed as the recollection came back to her mind, and once again she could see the young man she had loved for many years standing up as her knight; Dick too looked pleased at hearing how the father he remembered so well had been ready to defend the right. "I don't think Ferd will say anything about this last little adventure. You see his father was opposed to his getting that motor-cycle, for he said it would be just like Ferd to have an accident, and perhaps get his neck broken. And to tell the truth, a little later on if nothing else turns up I mean to try and get work in Mr. Graylock's store. It's a busy place, and he might give me a chance. He's a deacon in the church, and I've often heard him tell how all of us ought to heap coals of fire on our enemy's head by doing him a good turn. I'm going to put him to the test, mother. Perhaps he may turn out better than we think, who knows?" "I hope so, dear. I like to think the best of all men; but Mr. Graylock is most unreasonable when angered." After supper Dick insisted upon his mother sitting down to rest while he washed the few dishes; it was a regular employment with him; not that he liked the job, but it gave him satisfaction to know that he was relieving her from some of the drudgery of the housework. Later on he busied himself in looking over a lot of fishlines and hooks, since he was bent upon carrying out his scheme for business in case nothing better came up on the morrow. No one knew better than Dick where the fish lay, and his success in securing a string of the finny beauties had long been the envy of his mates; he had always loved to study the habits of the bass and other denizens of the little river that gave the pretty town its name; and it was really this knowledge that brought about his reward when others went home almost empty-handed. He lay awake a long time that night, looking out of his window at the bright star that had for many a year peeped in through the window of his little room, and in some way cheered him by its twinkling; he laid many plans for the immediate future, and somehow just the thought of the smile upon the careworn face of his little mother seemed an inspiration, urging him to greater efforts. Thus he pictured the day when he would be successful in business, and when want would no longer confront them at the door; when he could surround this dear one with all the comforts and perhaps some of the luxuries that other women delighted in, and with such noble ambitions soothing him Dick finally fell asleep. CHAPTER III DICK'S FIRST WAGES Immediately after breakfast on the following morning Dick started out upon his search for employment. He did not know how far he might have to tramp in scouring the surrounding country, and so asked his mother to let him put him up a "snack" which would help to tide him over the noon hour, if he happened to be at a distance from home. As he turned and looking back waved his hand to her just as he had always done since the first day he went to school, she felt that it was hard indeed that her boy should have to be thrown on the world to make a living when others among his schoolmates had pleasant homes, and well-to-do parents to care for them. But Dick never allowed himself to look at things in that way; he felt within him the spirit to do and dare that leads to success if persisted in, and he was grimly determined not to allow himself feel any discouragement even should he meet with failure right and left. He had heard just the preceding day that the miller down the river road was looking for a boy to assist him, since his son was sick, and it was toward the quaint old mill, driven by water from the little river, that he first of all turned his steps. As he trudged along about half a mile beyond the outskirts of the town he discovered a vehicle some little distance ahead, apparently stalled. Something had happened, for the driver was on the ground and appeared to be busy trying to mend a break in the harness, or something still more serious. As he drew nearer Dick saw first of all that the man was Mr. Cartwright, the miller, the very man he was intending to see, and the next thing he noticed was that the loaded wagon was tilted on one side, showing that a wheel must have given away, threatening a complete collapse. He hurried up, wondering if his lucky star might not be in the ascendant just then, the opportunity to get in the good graces of the miller seeming so good. The dusty miller was scratching his head in puzzled wonder at just the minute Dick arrived on the scene. "Good morning, Mr. Cartwright. You seem to have met with an accident," remarked the boy, as he came alongside. The man looked up with interest, to show more or less disappointment when he found that it was only a boy who had arrived. "It's you, is it, Dick? Yes, I've broken down at last. Twenty years more or less I've carried loads back and forth between my mill and the town, and never once in all that time have I had such an accident. The wheel is giving way. If I try to go on it will smash entirely, and perhaps part of my load be thrown off. How to get home is a question I am trying to decide. I hate to unload. If I had another wheel and a jack here I might get around the trouble." "I could get them for you, sir; or if you thought best we could take a rail from the fence here and use it to hold up the load while you crept home. It isn't a great way off, you know," remarked Dick, quickly. "Do you think we could fix it with a rail lashed under the axle? I've seen it done with an empty wagon but never with a full one," exclaimed the miller, brightening up. "By changing a part of the load, and throwing it over on the side where there are two sound wheels I think it could be managed, sir," replied Dick, and there was such an air of conviction about his smiling face that the miller seemed to be convinced even against his own judgment. "Well, now, it might go, and I've half a mind to try it. Can you give me a hand, Dick, or are you in a hurry?" he asked. [Illustration: "CAN YOU GIVE ME A HAND, DICK, OR ARE YOU IN A HURRY?" HE ASKED. _Dick the Bank Boy_ _Page 19_] "No hurry at all, sir, and only too glad to help you if I can," and in a jiffy he had hurried to the fence, selected the stoutest rail in sight, and was back again at the side of the man who was in trouble. They first of all shifted the cargo as much as possible, so as to throw the greater part of the weight on the left side of the wagon, thus relieving the strain on the broken wheel. Fortunately the miller had plenty of rope along under his seat, and after they had united their strength to raise that end of the wagon by means of other rails, the one that had been selected as a drag was securely lashed into place. Thus the broken wheel did not come in contact with the road, and when the patient old horse was set in motion the vehicle shuffled along after a fashion. "The missus'll think I'm coming home like a whipped dog with his tail between his legs, but it's a case of any port in a storm, and I'm glad to get back without throwing off this whole load. I'm sure obliged to you, Dick, for the lift you gave me, and I won't forget it either. P'raps some day I can pay it back." Of course that was the proper time to strike, while the iron was hot, and Dick knew it well enough. "Why, I was just on my way here to see you, Mr. Cartwright. I heard that you wanted some one to assist you, and as I'm looking for work I thought I'd apply for the job. I'm strong, and I think able to do what you want," he hastened to say. The miller looked at him with a smile. "Well, now, I'd like to give you work first rate, Dick, boy; after the way you fixed me up this morning I reckon you're a right handy sort of a boy to have around. But you see I expect my son Toby to be well enough in a few days to get onto his regular business again. If you cared to tackle the work till then I'd sure be glad to have you. It's my busy time, and I'm falling behind every day. You could be a great help to me, only the job is apt to be a short one," he remarked. "It might help out, Mr. Cartwright. You know my mother is in trouble over that investment, and times are going hard with us. I mean to get to work at once, and try to make it easier for her. I'll take the job while it lasts, sir," and he threw off his coat with a business-like air that pleased the old miller. "But see here, Dick, we ain't made no terms. I paid Toby twenty a month, and his board. Would a dollar and a quarter a day satisfy you, son? A special job like this always commands higher wages, you know," he inquired, eagerly, for he had been wondering how he could keep up with his orders while shorthanded. "It suits me first-rate, sir. Only wish it would keep right along--not that I would like to have Toby sick you understand. And, now if you will show me just what I'm to start on I'll get to work." "Say, I like that kind of talk. I reckon you and me will pull together all right, Dick. I knowed your father many years, and if so be the boy has got some of his grit and go in his make-up there ain't no fear but he'll get there." It filled Dick with a sense of deepest satisfaction to realize that he was actually earning real money; and again and again he pictured the look of happiness that he knew would flash over the face of his mother when he told her of his success; of course the job was only a temporary one, but then it certainly seemed like the harbinger of other good things to come. He whistled at his work, and the miller thought this merry-hearted lad was worth having around as an inspiration, even though he might not be as sturdy a worker as his big-muscled Toby. But Dick was possessed of indomitable pluck, and after he grew a little accustomed to the work he thoroughly satisfied his employer. At noon he heard a conch shell blown, and washing up as Mr. Cartwright had directed him, he proceeded to the house, where he sat down to a bountiful spread that was certainly a joyous sight in the eyes of a hungry boy. He only wished the little mother were sitting beside him instead of big Toby, now well on the road to recovery. And all that afternoon, when he felt tired from the unusual employment of his muscles, he cheered himself up with the thought of how proud he would be to place that first dollar and a quarter in the hand of the waiting little woman in the cottage by the river bank--for it was one of the miller's peculiarities to do a cash business, and pay any one working for him each day after the hour for stopping arrived. It was a tiresome walk back to town and then out home, but Dick strode along with a light heart, and having changed his mind about his homecoming stopped in town to buy something in the way of groceries which he knew would fill a long-felt want at home. In the gloaming then he arrived, to find his mother beginning to grow nervous over his long absence; and only when her arms were about his neck he told of his success in obtaining work. Doubly sweet was the humble fare that night, for he felt that he had really done his part toward the support of the Morrison family, and that he was in a fair road toward filling that place at the head made vacant by the death of his father. CHAPTER IV IN SEARCH OF A JOB The job with the miller lasted just five days. Then Toby, having declared himself ready to take up his duties, Mr. Cartwright was compelled to let Dick go, for he really had no need of his help, since things were running in their natural channel, all the back work having been cleaned up under the energetic push of young Morrison. "I'm really sorry to lose you, Dick, boy. You've done all right, and if I ever have need of a helper again I'd like nothing better than to call on you. If I hear of an opening I'll sure let you know," the miller said, that evening as he placed the last pay in the boy's hand. Mrs. Cartwright had taken considerable interest in all she had heard about Dick from her husband, and being a woman of discernment she knew that a boy who was so fond of his mother as he seemed to be could not go very far wrong in life. She came out to shake hands with him, and she carried a package too that she gave into his charge. "It's a new kind of cake I've been trying lately. My sister away out in Boston sent me the recipe. Tell her I want her to try it, and if she wants the directions I'll be glad to send 'em to her. Good-bye, Dick. I hope you find a good steady job soon. Come in and see us whenever you happen to be passing, and if it's nigh dinner time we'll be glad to have you jine us." Dick felt that he had indeed made good friends in this, his first position, and the thought brought with it such solid satisfaction that he determined to profit by the circumstance in the future; he was young in years but already he had begun to see that one cannot have too many friends and well wishers in life. Once again he was grappling with the problem as to what he should do in order to continue this method of assisting to lighten the many burdens that had fallen on the shoulders of his mother. Just as he neared the town he heard a great spluttering behind him and stepped aside to allow the party on the motor-cycle to pass; as he suspected it was Ferd Graylock returning from a little whirl around the country, and cutting his customary wide swathe along the road. He happened to recognize Dick as he swept by with a popping from the exhaust, and shutting off power applied the brake so that he came to a stop. Dick was surprised and a little annoyed. He hoped that Ferd did not mean to be as disagreeable as usual, and perhaps force him into a war of words, or even worse; and remembering what he had promised the anxious little inmate of the rose cottage, he shut his teeth hard with the firm determination not to be drawn into a row if it could possibly be avoided. As he walked on he presently came up to where the other stood, with one foot on the ground, balancing his machine and ready to go on again slowly, pedalling as Dick tramped. "Hello! Dick. Thought that was you. You jumped just in time or I might have hit you a nasty blow. Fact is I was forgetting that the beastly old town was so close by. Hear you've been working down at old Cartwright's mill. Got a steady job?" Dick was surprised at being spoken to in this fashion by the one whom he had grown to look upon as his inveterate enemy, and who in the past had never addressed him save to utter some sneering insult; could it be that after all there was a spark of decency in Ferd, and that when he came to reflect on how shabbily he had treated the boy who had shown such willingness to help him drag his motor-cycle out of the ditch, he was a little ashamed of his actions? Dick was quick to seize the olive branch, though rather skeptical with regard to what it could really mean. "I have been working there five days, and would like to keep right along only Toby has got well enough to go on his job again. Now I must look around and see if I can find something else to do, for I've got to bring in some money to help out at home, you know," he replied. He could see the sneer upon Ferd's lip, for that young man had never earned one cent in all his life, and foolishly looked down upon the unfortunate boy whom fortune compelled to face the world and wrest his living from it. "I was thinking of you when I heard my governor say he wanted more help. Perhaps you might strike a job there. I'll even put in a good word for you to-night. Of course you understand that I'm not doing this because I like you any better than before, but you did me a half decent turn yesterday, and I'm not the one to forget it. Besides I don't want to see a dog starve if I can help him by raising my hand. Come around and see the old man to-morrow, and perhaps he'll offer you something." The cool patronizing manner of the fellow when he said this galled Dick exceedingly, and had it been only himself whom he had to consider he would have snapped his fingers in Ferd's face. But then he reflected that the other was doing him what he considered a very great favor, and that of late he had had that old saying to the effect that "beggars should not be choosers" rubbed into his soul. So he crushed down the natural feeling of resentment that arose in his heart, and tried to act as though he were really grateful for the crumb thrown down to him with such scorn. "That's good of you to think of me at all, Ferd. I'll see your father to-morrow without fail. I hope he can offer me a job that will give me something like the sum Mr. Cartwright has been paying me," he replied, quietly. "How much was that?" asked the other, contemptuously. "At the rate of seven dollars and a half a full week," answered Dick. Ferd whistled to signify his skepticism. "You're yarning, Dick. I don't believe he gave you half that. Anyhow, I'm dead sure dad'll never think of paying such big wages. He can get all the help he needs at three dollars a week," remarked Ferd, preparing to start up his machine and go ahead, since his object had been accomplished, and he had the peculiar satisfaction of knowing that he had after a fashion put that upstart Dick Morrison down a peg or two even while making himself out to be a generous, forgiving fellow. Dick saw him speed away with a renewed splutter and a cloud of dust, while to himself he was saying: "Three dollars a week will never satisfy me just now. I am strong enough to be earning a dollar a day on a farm, and we have too big a need of the money to take a position at less. I can make more than that fishing, counting the good days and the bad as they run. And I'm afraid there might be trouble for me if once Archibald Graylock had me under his thumb. He would find some opportunity to accuse me of something I hadn't done and discharge me in disgrace. I'll go and see him all right, but if we fail to come to terms I won't be much disappointed. I'll keep everlastingly at it until I strike my gait, just as Grant did when he was fighting the battles of the Wilderness. And I'm going to get there, I must, _I will_!" Again he stopped in town to make some purchases. The store of Ezra Squires was well patronized, for he kept a pretty fair assortment of necessities in the line of groceries, sometimes exchanging tea and coffee with the country people for butter and eggs, which he shipped into Boston when he had a quantity. Ezra and Dick had never gotten on very well together somehow. To tell the truth, the grocer had once played a very small game with the widow, and when Dick learned of it he had come and told Mr. Squires just what he thought of such contemptible actions; at the time several persons heard all that was said, and Ezra felt that he was in rather bad odor in certain circles. That was a good while back, and people had forgotten the circumstances; but he had never quite forgiven the lad who in defense of his mother had so boldly taken him to task before some of his customers. Ezra had a small nature, and it harbored the spirit of a mean revenge; so that he was forever looking for a chance to get even with the boy. "You don't happen to want any help, Mr. Squires," asked Dick, as he was about to leave the store, and the old man came to the door to open it, seeing how the boy was laden down with bundles. "Not just now. I might be changing any time, though, that Abner is sore tryin' on a man's patience. He never does anything right, it seems," replied the other, looking at Dick keenly. "What wages do you pay, in case you needed anyone, and I applied for the job?" "Four dollars and find yourself, and no snacking in the store out of the cracker barrel and cheese bin," came the quick response. "It strikes me that's pretty small pay for the long hours here, and the heavy work you require," remarked Dick. "Kin get lots of help at that price. This ain't Boston, you understand, and wages is low in Riverview. I'm not askin' anybody to come here. If Abner goes there'll be jest a dozen arter his job in an hour," replied the grocer, sarcastically. "Perhaps there will, but you won't find me among them, Mr. Squires. I'm willing to work and work hard, but I think a fellow deserves a living wage. You can't get a woman to come and wash for you at less than a dollar a day, and they talk of putting the price up a quarter. What are the hours here?" "I guess it don't interest you any, young feller. Seems like you be too high-toned fur this sorter work. Might try the bank and see what Mr. Harvey Gibbs kin offer you," and so saying Ezra slammed the door shut behind Dick, thus bringing to a termination the interview that was not proving very pleasant to him personally. "Perhaps I am too high in my notions; perhaps my first job has spoiled me for a three dollar a week position, but it does seem as though all the chances open to me are going to come from the few men I'd hate to be with above all others. Well, I'll make a try of it to-morrow, and if there's nothing in sight I know where I can dig some good bait, and the weather promises to be fine for fishing." So talking to himself Dick set out for home, fairly well satisfied with his beginning as a business man; it was an humble opening to be sure, assisting a miller run his grist, but the work was interesting and the pay had not only been good but he had made friends that might prove of benefit to him at some future day. CHAPTER V MR. GRAYLOCK RECEIVES A SURPRISE While they were eating supper that evening and Dick had told his mother all that had happened during the day, not forgetting the contemptible words of the close-fisted grocer, he noticed that she looked even a shade sadder than usual. "What has happened to make you feel badly, mother?" he asked, catching her eyes at last. "I did not mean to tell you until after supper, my boy, but since you have been so observing I suppose I must do it now," she replied, turning a bit red. "Then I was right, and something has upset you. Have you had a letter?" She nodded her head in the affirmative. "From the lawyer you engaged to look up that company?" "Yes, from Mr. Brief. He writes that so far as he can see just at present there is no prospect for the company resuming the paying of dividends. He says that it is a dull time in the manufacturing business, and it may be months, perhaps a year or so before things come around again," she replied, trying hard to keep the tears back. "Still, there is no fear of the company going to smash, is there, so that you would lose all you have invested there?" persisted Dick. "Mr. Brief says he does not really fear that. He also writes that we might be able to sell our stock, but since it would have to be sacrificed just now most shamefully he advised that we hold on as long as we can. If it comes to a point of desperation I am to let him know, and he will do the best he can for me." "Well, I wouldn't let that worry me, mother. I consider it so much better news than I expected that I feel like shouting. We will hold out! I'm going to help you right along now. And
{'title': 'Dick the Bank Boy; Or, A Missing Fortune by Frank V. Webster', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}