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. Try and Trust; Or, Abner Holden's Bound Boy by Jr. Horatio Alger (best romantic novels to read TXT) 📖
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «Try and Trust; Or, Abner Holden's Bound Boy by Jr. Horatio Alger (best romantic novels to read TXT) 📖». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
“Yes, sir,” said Herbert; “I think you are right.”
After breakfast they resumed their journey. In due time they reached Baltimore, and remained over night at a hotel. In the course of the succeeding day they arrived at Philadelphia, which was the termination of Mr. Carroll's journey. As the country through which they passed was unknown to Herbert, the journey was full of interest, but there was no adventure worth recording.
The time came when the two travelers were compelled to part.
“If I were going to a hotel, Herbert,” said Mr. Carroll, “I would invite you to remain with me a day or two; but I shall proceed at once to the house of a friend, and I shall not feel at liberty to invite you.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Herbert. “I think it will be best for me to go on to New York at once. I have got my living to make, and I am anxious to get to work as soon as possible.”
“It is a praiseworthy feeling,” said the old gentleman. “Life lies before you. I have left nearly the whole of it behind me. I am drawing near the end of my journey. You are just at the beginning. I shall hope to meet you again, but, if not, be assured that I shall always remember, with pleasure, my young traveling companion.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Herbert.
“I shall not soon forget the essential service which you have rendered me,” continued the old gentleman.
“Don't think of it, sir,” said Herbert, modestly, “Anyone would have done the same thing in my place.”
“I am by no means sure of that. At any rate, the obligation remains. You must allow me to acknowledge it in some measure.”
Mr. Carroll drew out his pocketbook and handed it to Herbert.
“Will you oblige me,” he said, “by counting the bills in this pocketbook?”
Herbert did so.
“There are sixty-five dollars,” he said, passing it back.
“Will you take out fifty dollars?”
“Yes, sir—I have done it.”
“That's the sum you will oblige me by keeping,” said Mr. Carroll. “I hope it may be of service to you.”
“You give me so much money?” said Herbert, in surprise.
“It is but a very small sum, compared with that which you have saved me.”
“I don't think I ought to take so much,” said Herbert, hesitating.
“You need not hesitate, my young friend. I am blessed with abundant means, and very well able to part with it. Besides, it is only one per cent. of the money which you have been instrumental in saving me, and you are certainly entitled to as much as that.”
“I thank you very much for the gift, Mr. Carroll,” said our hero, “and still more for the kind manner in which you give it to me.”
“You accept it, then? That is well,” said the old gentleman, with satisfaction. “There is one thing more. You remember that I spoke to you of a business firm in Pearl Street, New York, with the members of which I am acquainted. Last evening I prepared a letter of introduction to them for you. Here it is.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Herbert. “I was very fortunate in meeting with one so able and willing to assist me.”
“You are very welcome to all the help I am able to give you. I shall be very glad if your life shall be as prosperous as mine has been. I must trouble you to do me one more service. If you will find me a cab, I will go at once to my friend's house.”
No difficulty was experienced in obtaining a carriage. There was a cordial leave-taking, and Herbert once more found himself alone. But with rather more than sixty dollars in his pocket, he felt rich, and looked forward eagerly to his arrival in the great city, where he hoped to deserve and win success.
CHAPTER XXII ROBBED IN THE NIGHT
Herbert entered the cars, and took a seat by the window. His small bundle, containing all the extra clothing he had been able to bring away from the inhospitable home of Mr. Holden, he placed in the seat beside him.
It was yet early, and there were but few persons in the car. But as the hour for starting approached, it gradually filled up. Still, the seat next to Herbert remained untaken.
At length a young man, apparently about nineteen, walked up the aisle, and, pausing, inquired, “Is this seat engaged?”
“No,” said Herbert, at the same time removing his bundle.
“Then, if you have no objection, I'll take possession.”
He accordingly seated himself, and commenced a conversation.
“Going to New York?” he asked.
“Yes,” said Herbert.
“Do you live there?”
“No; I have never been there before.”
“Are you going on a visit?”
“No; I am going to live there; that is, if I can find anything to do.”
“Are you alone?”
“Yes.”
“So am I. Suppose we hitch teams.”
“I don't understand.”
“Suppose we go to some hotel together. I have been there before, and can tell you where to go. It's awful dull being alone. I always like to pick up company.”
Herbert hardly knew what to say to this proposition. He did not exactly like the appearance, or fancy the free and easy manners of his new acquaintance, but he felt lonely, and, besides, he hardly knew what excuse to make. He, therefore, gave his assent to the arrangement proposed.
“What's your name?” asked his new friend, familiarly.
“Herbert Mason.”
“Mine is Greenleaf—Peter Greenleaf. Have you come from a distance?”
“From Waverley, in Ohio, not far from Cincinnati.”
“I am from Philadelphia. I've been in a store there, but I didn't like the style, and I concluded to go to New York. There's more chance for a fellow of enterprise there.”
“What
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