Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Helping Himself; Or, Grant Thornton's Ambition by Jr. Horatio Alger (e books free to read .txt) 📖
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «Helping Himself; Or, Grant Thornton's Ambition by Jr. Horatio Alger (e books free to read .txt) 📖». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
Now, this story was an audacious fiction, and should not have imposed upon a person of ordinary intelligence; but the housekeeper was anxious to believe her step-son innocent and Grant guilty. She therefore accepted it without question, and was loud in her denunciation of that “artful young rascal.”
“You ought to tell Mr. Reynolds of this, Willis,” she said.
“It would be of no use, mother. He is too strongly prejudiced against me. What do you think? He has refused me a letter of recommendation. What does he care if I starve?” concluded Willis, bitterly.
“But I care, Willis. I will not desert you,” said Mrs. Estabrook, in a tone of sympathy.
This was just the mood in which Ford desired his step-mother to be. He was desirous of effecting a loan, and after a time succeeded in having transferred to him two of the one-hundred-dollar bonds. He tried hard to obtain the five hundred, but Mrs. Estabrook was too prudent and too much attached to her savings to consent to this. Ford had to be satisfied with considerably less.
“Ought I to stay with Mr. Reynolds after he has treated you in this way, Willis?” asked his step-mother, anxiously.
“By all means, mother. You don't want to throw away a good position.”
“But it will be hard to see that boy high in Mr. Reynolds' confidence, after all his wickedness.”
“You must dissemble, mother. Treat him fairly, and watch your opportunity to harm him and serve me. Don't say much about me, for it would do no good; but keep your hold on Reynolds.”
“If you think it best, Willis,” said his stepmother, not without a feeling of relief, for she was reluctant to relinquish a good home and liberal salary, “I will remain.”
“Do so by all means. We may as well make all we can out of the enemy, for Mr. Reynolds has treated me very shabbily. And now I must bid you good-by.”
“What are your plans, Willis?”
“I can't tell you, but I think I shall go West.”
“And I shall never see you!”
“You will hear from me, and I hope I shall have good news to write.”
Willis Ford left the house, and, going to the Grand Central Depot, bought a ticket for Chicago.
Now came quite a pleasant period after the trouble and excitement. Grant found his duties at the office increased, and it was pleasant to see that his employer reposed confidence in him. His relations with others in the office were pleasant, now that Willis Ford was away, and every day he seemed to get new insight into the details of the business. Whether Jim Morrison and Tom Calder were in the city, he did not know. At all events, they were never seen in the neighborhood of Wall Street. Grant was not sorry to have them pass out of his life, for he did not consider that he was likely to draw any benefit from their presence and companionship.
He was still a member of Mr. Reynolds' house-hold. Herbert appeared to be as much attached to him as if he were an older brother, and the broker looked with pleasure upon the new happiness that beamed from the face of his son.
As to Mrs. Estabrook, Grant had feared that she would continue to show animosity toward him, but he had nothing to complain of. She certainly did not show any cordiality in her necessary intercourse with him; but then, on the other hand, she did not manifest any desire to injure him. This was all Grant desired. He felt that under no circumstances could he have made a friend of the housekeeper. He was content to have her leave him alone.
After the lapse of six months Grant expressed a desire to go home to pass a day or two. His mother's birthday was close at hand, and he had bought for her a present which he knew would be acceptable. Permission was readily accorded, and Grant passed four happy days at home. His parents were pleased that he was so highly regarded by his employer, and had come to think that Grant's choice had been a wise one.
When Grant returned he went at once to the office. He found it a scene of excitement.
“What has happened?” he asked, eagerly.
“Herbert Reynolds has disappeared, and his father is almost beside himself with grief!” was the startling reply.
CHAPTER XXV — ANXIOUS INQUIRIES
After a while Grant learned the particulars about Herbert's disappearance. He had gone out to play in the street about three o'clock in the afternoon. Generally he waited for Grant to return-home, but during his absence he had found other companions. When his father returned home, he inquired of the housekeeper: “Where is Herbert?”
“He went out to play,” said Mrs. Estabrook, indifferently.
“In the street?”
“I believe so.”
“He ought to be in by this time.”
“Probably he went to walk with some of his companions. As he had no watch, he might not know that it is so late.”
This seemed very plausible to Mr. Reynolds.
“Yes,” he said; “Herbert seems lost without Grant. He will be glad to see him back.”
To this Mrs. Estabrook did not reply. She had learned, to her cost, that it would not be politic to speak against Grant, and she was not disposed to praise him. She seldom mentioned him at all.
The dinner bell rang, and still Herbert had not returned. His father began to feel anxious.
“It is strange that Herbert remains so long away,” he said.
“I shouldn't wonder if he had gone to Central Park on some excursion,” returned the housekeeper calmly.
“You think there is nothing wrong?” asked the broker, anxiously.
“How could there be here, sir?” answered Mrs. Estabrook, with unruffled demeanor.
This answer helped to calm Mr. Reynolds, who ordered dinner delayed half an hour.
When, however, an hour—two hours—passed, and the little boy still remained absent, the father's anxiety became insupportable. He merely tasted a few spoonfuls of soup, and found it impossible to eat more. The housekeeper, on the contrary, seemed quite unconcerned, and showed her usual appetite.
“I am seriously anxious, Mrs. Estabrook,” said the broker. “I will take my hat and go out to see if I can gain any information. Should Herbert return while I am away, give him his supper, and, if he is tired, let him go to bed, just finding out why he was
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