Making His Way; Or, Frank Courtney's Struggle Upward by Jr. Horatio Alger (i have read the book a hundred times .TXT) 📖

not turn over as much money to my employer. I should, first of all, lower the rents and make it as easy for the tenants as I could in justice to my New York principal."

"Do you know how much Mr. Fairfield receives—how large a salary, I mean?"

"I know what Mr. Sampson got—twelve hundred dollars a year; but Mr. Fairfield lives at the rate of more than twice that sum, if I can judge from appearances."

"I suppose you would be contented with the salary which Mr. Sampson received?"

"Contented! I should feel like a rich man. It would not interfere with my carrying on my farm, and I should be able to make something from that. Why, it is as much as I received as a bookkeeper, and here the expenses of living are small, compared with what they were in Chicago. I could save money and educate my children, as I cannot do now. I have a boy who wants a classical education, but of course there are no schools here which can afford it, and I am too poor to send him away from home. I suppose I shall have to bring him up as a farmer, though it is a great pity, for he is not fitted for it."

Mr. Hamlin sighed, but Frank felt in unusually good spirits. He saw his way clear already, not only to recommend Mr. Fairfield's displacement, but to urge Mr. Hamlin's appointment in his stead; that is, if his favorable impressions were confirmed on further acquaintance.

"It seems to me," said the driver, changing the subject, "you might find something better to do than to peddle stationery."

"I don't mean to follow the business long," answered Frank.

"It can't pay much."

"I am not wholly dependent upon it," said our hero. "There is one advantage about it. It enables me to travel about and pay my expenses, and you know traveling is agreeable to a boy of my age."

"That is true. Well, your expenses won't amount to much while you are in Jackson. I shall only charge you just enough to cover expenses—say three dollars a week."

Frank was about to insist on paying a larger sum, but it occurred to him that he must keep up appearances, and he therefore only thanked his kind acquaintance.

By this time they had entered the village of Jackson.

"There's Mr. Fairfield now!" said Mr. Hamlin, suddenly, pointing with his whip to a rather tall, stout man, with a red nose and inflamed countenance, who was walking unsteadily along the sidewalk.

Frank carefully scrutinized the agent, and mentally decided that such a man was unfit for the responsible position he held.

CHAPTER XXXV DICK HAMLIN

Mr. Hamlin stopped his horse a quarter of a mile from the village in front of a plain farmhouse.

An intelligent-looking boy, of perhaps fifteen, coarsely but neatly dressed, approached and greeted his father, not without a glance of surprise and curiosity at Frank.

"You may unharness the horses, Dick," said Mr. Hamlin. "When you come back, I will introduce you to a boy friend who will stay with us a while."

Dick obeyed, and Frank followed his host into the house.

Here he was introduced to Mrs. Hamlin, a motherly-looking woman, and Annie and Grace, younger sisters of Dick.

"I am glad to see you," said Mrs. Hamlin, to our hero, after a brief explanation from her husband. "We will try to make you comfortable."

"Thank you!" said Frank. "I am sure I shall feel at home."

The house was better furnished than might have been anticipated. When Mr. Hamlin left Chicago, he had some money saved up, and he furnished his house in a comfortable manner.

It was not, however, the furniture that attracted Frank's attention so much as the books, papers and pictures that gave the rooms a homelike appearance.

"I shall be much better off here than I would have been at the tavern," he thought. "This seems like home."

"I see," said Mr. Hamlin, "that you are surprised to see so many books and pictures. I admit that my house does not look like the house of a poor man, who has to struggle for the mere necessaries of life. But books and periodicals we have always classed among the necessities, and I am sure we would all rather limit ourselves to dry bread for two out of the three meals than to give up this food for the mind."

"I think you are a very sensible man, Mr. Hamlin," said Frank. "I couldn't get along without something to read."

"Not in this out-of-the-way place, at any rate," said Mr. Hamlin. "Nothing can be more dismal than the homes of some of my neighbors, who spend as much, or more, than I do every year. Yet, they consider me extravagant because I buy books and subscribe for periodicals."

By this time, Dick came in from the barn.

"Dick," said his father, "this is Frank Courtney, who comes from Chicago on a business errand. He is a traveling merchant—"

"In other words, a peddler," said Frank, with a smile, "ready to give the good people in Jackson a chance to buy stationery at reasonable prices."

"He will board with us while he is canvassing the neighborhood, and I expect you and he will become great friends."

"I think we shall," said Frank.

Dick was a little shy, but a few minutes set him quite at ease with his new acquaintance.

After supper, Frank said:

"Dick, if you are at leisure, I wish you would take a walk about the village with me. I want to see how it looks."

"All right," said Dick.

When the two left the house, the country boy began to ask questions.

"How do you like your business?" he asked.

"Not very well," answered Frank. "I do not think I shall stay in it very long."

"Do you sell enough to make your expenses?" asked Dick.

"No; but I am not wholly dependent on my sales. I have a little income—a hundred dollars a year—paid me by my stepfather."

"I wish I had as much. It seems a good deal to me."

"It doesn't go very far. What are you intending to be, Dick?"

"I suppose I shall have to be a farmer, though I don't like it."

"What would you like to be?"

"I should like to get an education," said Dick, his eyes lighting up. "I should like to study Latin and Greek, and go to college. Then I could be a teacher or a lawyer. But there is no chance of that," he added, his voice falling.

"Don't be too sure of that, Dick," said Frank Frank, hopefully. "Something may turn up in your favor."

"Nothing ever does turn up in Jackson," said the boy, in a tone of discouragement. "Father is a poor man, and has hard work to get along. He can give me no help."

"Isn't the farm productive?"

"There is no trouble about that, but he has to pay too high a rent. It's all the fault of Fairfield."

"The agent?"

"Yes."

"Your father was telling me about him. Now, if your father were in his place, I suppose he could give you the advantages you wish."

"Oh, yes! There would be no trouble then. I am sure he would make a better and more popular agent than Mr. Fairfield; but there is no use thinking about that."

"I expected myself to go to college," said Frank. "In fact, I have studied Latin and Greek, and in less than a year I could be ready to enter."

"Why don't you?" asked Dick.

"You forget that I am a poor peddler."

"Then how were you able to get so good an education?" asked Dick, in surprise.

"Because I was once better off than I am now. The fact is, Dick," he added, "I have seen better days. But when I was reduced to poverty, I gave up hopes of college education and became what I am."

"Wasn't it hard?"

"Not so much as you might suppose. My home was not happy. I have a stepfather and stepbrother, neither of whom I like. In fact, there is no love lost between us. I was not obliged to leave home, but under the circumstances I preferred to."

"Where are your stepfather and your stepbrother now?"

"They are traveling in Europe."

"While you are working hard for a living! That does not seem to be just."

"We must make the best of circumstances, Dick. Whose is that large house on the left?"

"That belongs to Mr. Fairfield.

"He seems to live nicely."

"Yes, he has improved and enlarged the house a good deal since he moved into it—at Mrs. Percival's expense, I suppose."

"He seems to have pretty much his own way here," said Frank.

"Yes. Mr. Percival never comes to Jackson, and I suppose he believes all that the agent tells him."

"He may get found out some time."

"I wish he might. It would be a great blessing to Jackson if he were removed and a good man were put in his place."

"That may happen some day."

"Not very likely, I am afraid."

At this moment Mr. Fairfield himself came out of his front gate.

"Hello, Hamlin!" he said, roughly, to Dick. "Is your father at home?"

"Yes, sir."

"I have something to say to him. I think I will call round."

"You will find him at home, sir."

"Dick," said Frank, when the agent had passed on, "do you mind going back? What you tell me makes me rather curious about Mr. Fairfield. At your house I may get a chance to see something of him."

"Let us go back, then," said Dick; "but I don't think, Frank, that you will care much about keeping up the acquaintance."

"Perhaps not; but I shall gratify my curiosity."

The two boys turned and followed the agent closely. They reached the house about five minutes after Mr. Fairfield.

CHAPTER XXXVI MR. FAIRFIELD, THE AGENT

The two boys found Mr. Fairfield already seated in the most comfortable chair in the sitting room.

He looked inquiringly at Frank when he entered with Dick.

"Who is that boy, Hamlin?" inquired the agent. "Nephew of yours?"

"No, sir. It is a young man who has come to Jackson on business."

"What kind of business?'

"I sell stationery," Frank answered for himself.

"Oh, a peddler!" said the agent, contemptuously.

"Many of our most successful men began in that way," said Mr. Hamlin, fearing lest Frank's feelings might be hurt.

"I never encourage peddlers myself," said Mr. Fairfield, pompously.

"Then I suppose it will be of no use for me to call at your door," said Frank, who, in place of being mortified, was amused by the agent's arrogance.

"I should say not, unless your back is proof against a broomstick," answered Fairfield, coarsely. "I tell my servant to treat all who call in that way."

"I won't put her to the trouble of using it," said Frank, disgusted at the man's ill manners.

"That's where you are wise—yes, wise and prudent—young man."

"And now, Hamlin," said the agent, "I may as well come to business."

"To business!" repeated the farmer, rather surprised, for there was no rent due for a month.

"Yes, to business," said Fairfield. "I came to give you notice that after the next payment I shall feel obliged to raise your rent."

"Raise my rent!" exclaimed the farmer, in genuine dismay. "I am already paying a considerably higher rent than I paid to your predecessor."

"Can't help it. Old Sampson was a slow-going old fogy. He didn't do his duty by his employer. When I came in, I turned over a new leaf."

"I certainly got along better in his time."

"No doubt. He was a great deal too easy with you. Didn't do his duty, sir. Wasn't sharp enough. That's all."

"You certainly cannot be in earnest in raising my rent, Mr. Fairfield," said the farmer, uneasily.

"I certainly am."

"I can't live at all if you increase my rent, which is already larger than I can afford to pay, Mr. Fairfield."

"Then I must find a tenant who can and will," said the agent, emphatically.

"I am sure Mr. Percival can't understand the true state of the case, or the circumstances of his tenants. Will you give me his address, and I will take the liberty of writing to him and respectfully remonstrate against any increase?"

Mr. Fairfield looked uneasy.

This appeal would not at all suit him. Yet how could he object without leading to the suspicion that he was acting in this matter wholly on his own responsibility, and not by the express orders of his principal? How could he refuse to furnish Mr. Percival's address?

A middle course occurred to him.

"You may write your appeal, if you like, Hamlin," he said, "and hand it to me. I will forward it; though I don't believe it will do any good. The fact is that Mr. Percival has made up his mind to have more income from his property in Jackson."

CHAPTER XXXVII FRANK RECEIVES A LETTER