CHAPTER XVI.
JULIAN HAS TWO DISAPPOINTMENTS
Had Julian Lorimer been older, and in political life, he would have aspired to the position of a boss. He enjoyed power, and desired to have his power acknowledged by others. When Mr. Benton reproved him for interfering with him he felt outraged and determined to have revenge upon the independent salesman. Therefore he complained to his father, and a discharge was the result.
Mr. Lorimer, however, regretted afterwards giving in to the wishes of his son. He recognized the fact that Benton was an experienced salesman whose services were valuable, and that he was getting these at an extraordinary low rate of wages. He could secure a man in his place, doubtless, but it would not be so easy to get one so competent as cheaply.
Accordingly, on the morning succeeding the dismissal he had a conversation with Julian at the breakfast table.
"I think I shall have to take Benton back, Julian," he said.
"What, after his impudence to me?" exclaimed Julian, frowning.
"Probably you provoked him. At any rate he is a valuable man. I don't see how I can spare him."
"There are lots of clerks out of employment."
"That may be, but he has long experience."
"If you take him back, pa, he will insult me again. I should think you would have more consideration for me."
"I can require him to apologize to you. The man is poor as poverty, and won't dare to refuse."
"Can't you cut down his pay?"
"Not very well. I pay him very little now. You see, Julian, this is a matter of business. I think you are too much in the store, as you have no employment there. If you want to go to work, that will be a different matter."
"No, thank you. When I go into business I want to be a banker or a wholesale merchant."
"If you will be at the store at noon I will have Benton apologize to you."
Mr. Benton was at work in his place when Julian passed through the store and paused in front of his counter.
"Pa wants to see you in the office," he said, abruptly.
"Very well, as soon as I fold up these goods," answered the salesman.
"You'd better hurry up if you know what's best for yourself."
"And you'd better cease talking to me in that way or I may teach you better manners."
Julian Lorimer flushed, and his eyes blazed with anger.
"Oho!" he said, "you don't seem to know who I am."
"I know that you are an impudent boy."
Julian nodded vigorously, and went at once to his father.
"Well, I told Benton to come, and he said he'd come as soon as he got ready."
"Are you repeating what he said exactly?"
"Yes, that is, he said he'd come when he'd folded up some goods."
"That is a different matter."
"He called me an impudent boy and threatened to lick me."
Mr. Lorimer did not reply to this. He had a suspicion that Julian had represented matters worse than they were.
Two minutes later Henry Benton presented himself at the office. He was quiet and calm.
"I understand you wish to see me, Mr. Lorimer," he said.
"Yes. My son has complained of you."
"You will excuse my saying that I am not in his employ, but in yours. If he were your partner he would have a right to speak to me about my work. As it is he is only your son, and I don't concede his right."
"As my son he is entitled to your respect."
"He would have been treated with respect had he treated me respectfully."
"Did you ever hear the like?" Julian burst in.
"Silence, Julian!" said his father. "In your circumstances, Mr. Benton, I think you have acted very unwisely."
"How?" asked Benton, briefly.
"You depend upon the wages I pay you for your livelihood."
"Very well, sir."
"And you make an enemy in my family and endanger your remaining in my service."
"I understood that you discharged me yesterday."
"Ahem! yes, but I don't want to be too hard upon you. You have a family, have you not?"
"I have a wife and young son."
"If I should discharge you they would suffer."
"What does this mean?" thought Benton.
"Therefore I have decided to recall the discharge, on condition that you will apologize to Julian for treating him with insolence."
"If I am to retain my position on that condition, Mr. Lorimer, I prefer to leave the store."
"I am surprised at your folly!" said the merchant, sharply. "Here, I give you a chance to retain your place and your ill-timed pride steps in and interferes with your interest."
"May I ask what I am to apologize to your son for, Mr. Lorimer?"
"You did not treat him with the respect due to my son," answered Mr. Lorimer, pompously.
"Do you sustain him in interfering with my work?" asked Benton, calmly.
"I see you are incorrigible," said Lorimer, angrily. "If your family suffers in consequence of your obstinacy, don't blame me."
"I shall not have occasion to blame you or anyone else."
"What do you mean by that? I don't understand you."
"I mean only that though I shall leave your employment I have another place waiting for me. I shall not be idle for a day."
"Is this true?" asked Lorimer, astonished.
"Yes, sir, quite true."
"For whom are you going to work?"
"You must excuse my keeping that a secret for the present."
"When did you make application for a place?"
"I made no application at all. It was offered to me."
"I shall not give you any recommendation."
"None will be necessary, sir. I have worked elsewhere, and my former employer will recommend me."
"I don't believe he's got a place, pa," put in Julian. "I'll bet he's bluffing."
Benton regarded Julian with contempt, but did not say a word.
"What pay are you to get?" asked Lorimer.
"More than twice what you are paying me, sir. You took advantage of my poverty and my necessities to reduce me to five dollars a week, a lower price, probably, than is paid by any dry-goods merchant in the city to an experienced salesman."
"It seems to me you are getting very independent," said Lorimer, annoyed.
"I feel more independent than I did yesterday. I have one favor to ask."
"I have already told you that I cannot give you a recommendation."
"I don't care for one. If you can conveniently spare me I should like to retire from your service to-day."
"Let him go, pa."
But Mr. Lorimer did not agree with Julian.
"I prefer that you should remain here till your week expires. If there is any failure to get the situation you expect, I will continue you in my service at six dollars a week."
"Thank you, sir, but I don't think there is any doubt about my situation. If you have nothing further to say to me I will return to my work."
When Benton had retired Mr. Lorimer turned to Julian angrily.
"There," he said, "I have lost one of my best salesmen, whom I was getting dirt cheap, on account of your misconduct."
Julian was rather taken aback at this reproach.
"You can get lots of men in his place, pa," he said.
"Not at the same wages. Now go away, I am busy."
"I wish I knew where he is going to work," thought Julian. "I might write an anonymous letter to his employer. I hate him. He puts on too many airs for a cheap clerk."
Julian's malicious plot had certainly failed signally. The next day about one o'clock he was passing the Somerset Hotel, on lower Broadway, just as Rupert was coming out on an errand.
Julian at once noticed the watch chain. As he had never known of Rupert's owning a watch, his curiosity was excited.
"What time is it?" he asked, jeeringly.
Rupert took out his watch.
"Five minutes after one," he answered.
The watch was a handsome one, as Julian noticed.
"Is that your watch?" he asked, abruptly.
"Yes."
"Is it oroide?"
"No; it is gold. Do you wish to look at it?"
Julian's curiosity was such that he took it into his hand. He could see at once that it was a genuine and probably expensive gold watch.
"You must be making high pay to afford a watch like this," he said, in a tone of annoyance.
"It was a present."
"From whom?"
"A friend up town."
Julian dropped the watch and went on his way in an ill humor. He had a watch himself, but it was of less than half the value of Rupert's. He inwardly resolved to ask his father for a new one.
CHAPTER XVII.
MR. PACKARD OF COLORADO
In a short time the Bentons were settled in a neat flat located near Washington Square. They purchased additional furniture on the installment plan, and were able to offer Rupert a home more desirable than the room he had occupied. The new prosperity was reflected in the faces of the now happy wife and mother.
"It is you who have brought this happy change in our circumstances, Rupert," she said. "I tremble to think what would have been our condition but for you."
"In return you give me a pleasant home," said Rupert.
At the hotel things went on pleasantly. Rupert's services were appreciated, and this was pleasant, though his salary had not been increased.
Clarence Clayton never entered the hotel now. Rupert wondered what had become of him. But one Thursday afternoon—his afternoon off—he strayed down to the Battery.
Seated on one of the benches, looking out towards Governor's Island, Rupert's attention was drawn after a while to two men who occupied a neighboring bench. One of those he recognized at once as Clayton. The other he also recognized as a guest at the Somerset Hotel, a new arrival. He was a man of middle age who had the appearance of a Westerner. Rupert now remembered that he had entered himself on the hotel register as from Colorado.
"I wonder what mischief Clayton is up to now?" Rupert asked himself.
The benches were so near that he was able to hear the conversation between the two men. Clayton had a showy gold watch in his hand which he was endeavoring to sell to his new acquaintance.
"The fact is, my friend," Rupert heard him say, "I am awfully hard up. I need money badly, and that is why I offer you such a bargain. This watch is nearly new and cost me one hundred and fifty dollars in cold cash. I offer it to you for fifty."
"How did you get so hard up?" asked the stranger.
"I took a flyer in Wall Street. I have a friend who is a broker, and he gave me a pointer. I don't blame him, for he believed it, and invested himself. However, things didn't turn out as we expected, and I was cleaned out."
"How about him?"
"He lost a good deal more than I did, but he could stand it and I couldn't."
The Western man took the watch in his hand.
"It seems a good watch," he said. "I suppose it is solid gold?"
"Undoubtedly."
"I don't know much about watches myself, though I come from a mineral producing State. We have plenty of miners there, but I am a cattleman."
"Indeed! Is that a paying business?"
"Well, I've made a little money at it," said the other in a complacent tone.
"I am looking for a paying business myself."
The stranger laughed.
"You are a city man," he said. "You wouldn't do for the West. You wouldn't make much of a cowboy."
"I don't suppose I should."
"You couldn't wear patent-leather shoes in Colorado."
"Then I'll give it up if you say so. To tell the truth, I am better fixed than you would suppose. I have an income of a thousand dollars a year, paid me quarterly by the trustees of my late uncle's estate, but the next payment won't come due for a month. I must tide over till then. That is why I offer you this watch for fifty dollars."
"I shouldn't think you would like to make such a sacrifice."
"Oh, well, I need the money. Besides, what is my loss is your gain."
"You seem to take matters philosophically."
"That's my way. Seriously, though, it will be a great favor to me if you take the watch. Fifty dollars isn't much, but with economy it will carry me through till my next payment."
"Well, if you put it on that ground, I don't know but I will oblige you."
The Colorado man took from his pocket a large wallet, evidently stuffed with bills, and was about to consummate the bargain when Rupert rose from his seat hastily. He felt that it was about time for him to take a hand in the transaction.
"Mr. Packard," he said, "you'll excuse my interfering, but I advise you not to buy that watch."
Clarence Clayton looked up quickly. He recognized Rupert only too well, and would liked to have pitched him into the bay. What was to be done? He determined to brazen it out.
"Young man," he said sharply, "you'd better mind your own business."
"How do you know my name?" asked the man from Colorado, not recognizing Rupert.
"I am one of the bell-boys at the Somerset Hotel, where you are boarding."
"Why do you give this warning? Can you judge of the value of the watch?"
"No, sir; but I know this man."
"That is false," asserted Clayton; "I never saw you before to my knowledge."
"I don't know what to think," said the cattleman, looking puzzled. "You say you know this man?"
"Yes. He came near cheating one of our guests not long since by offering to give his son a place in an office in Wall Street for a hundred and fifty dollars."
"The boy lies," exclaimed Clayton. "I have a good mind to give you in charge, you young rascal."
"You are quite welcome to do it," said Rupert, coolly.
"I hope my word is as good as this boy's," continued Clayton.
"Don't take either, Mr. Packard. I am no judge of watches. Suppose you go to a jeweler's and ask him the value of it. If it is worth even a hundred dollars, you can venture to give this man what he asks, that is, supposing he has come by it honestly."
"That is a sensible proposal. I accept it."
"But I don't!" said Clayton. "I feel that I have been insulted, and I decline to sell the watch. As for you, you young rascal, I shall remember your interference with me in my business."
He rose and went off with his head very high in the air.
"Sit down and tell me all about this fellow," said the cattleman. "I suspect you have saved me from being imposed upon."
Rupert told the story, and the stranger thanked him heartily.
"I have always been told that I must look out for myself in New York, and I begin to realize it. How does it happen you are so far away from the hotel?"
"It is my afternoon off."
They sat and chatted of Colorado, about which Rupert felt considerable curiosity. At the end of fifteen minutes their attention was drawn to a man of prosperous appearance who seemed in trouble. He paused as he reached their bench, and asked anxiously, "Has either of you seen a young man, nicely dressed and carrying a cane?" and he went on to describe Clarence Clayton.
"Yes," answered Packard and Rupert, simultaneously, "the fellow was sitting here less than half an hour since."
"He has stolen my gold watch," said the new acquaintance.
"He tried to sell it to me. He said it cost a hundred and fifty dollars."
"So it did, and more, too."
"He offered it for fifty dollars."
"How did it happen that you did not buy it?"
"I was about to do so, but this boy told me he was a confidence man."
"Then you knew him?" asked the stranger.
"Yes," answered Rupert.
"Can you suggest any way in which I can recover my property?"
"Yes, sir. Report the matter to the police, and ask to have Richard Darke, a well-known detective, put on the case. I will give you a line to him. He will know at once who it is."
"I will do so. Where can I find you again?"
"At the Somerset Hotel, on Broadway."
"Thank you. If I receive it I will gladly compensate you for your suggestion."
"I thank you, but do not wish any compensation. If I can defeat this man's dishonest scheme I shall feel well repaid."
"Our cunning friend will soon be overhauled, I suspect," said the cattleman. "Did you say you were off this afternoon?"
"Yes, sir."
"I am new to the city and want a guide. Are you open to an engagement?"
"Yes, sir," answered Rupert, with a smile. "But I don't care for pay."
"Then we don't go. Business is business, and there is no reason why I should take up your time without paying you a fair sum."
"Just as you like, sir."
The two spent the next three or four hours in visiting different objects of interest in New York. The Colorado man seemed much pleased with his young companion.
"You must come out to Colorado some time, Rupert," he said. "You are a boy who would succeed there, or indeed anywhere. We have some men come out there who are failures at the East, and they are surprised that they don't succeed in the West. But I tell you that it takes as much brains to win success in Colorado as in New York."
"Is that always the case? I have heard of men getting rich in the West who were poor at home."
"That is true. Perhaps they were in the wrong business. I don't mind saying that was the case with me. I was in the insurance business in Hartford, but I wasn't particularly well adapted for it. I couldn't talk. Out in Colorado I have learned to understand cattle, and they have made me rich."
"Mr. Clayton can talk."
"Yes, a little too well. Unfortunately he is not honest, and a dishonest man ought not to thrive anywhere. In Colorado he wouldn't live wrong. Thieves are summarily dealt with."
About seven o'clock Mr. Packard invited Rupert to dine with him at Delmonico's.
Rupert had heard a great deal about this celebrated restaurant, and was glad to accept the invitation.
CHAPTER XVIII.
A SCENE AT DELMONICO'S
The two friends entered Delmonico's on the Broadway side, and took seats at one of the windows. Rupert, after giving the order, looked about him. He was curious to see that famous restaurant. He was destined to a surprise. At the second table, sitting with his back to Mr. Packard and himself, was a person whom he had the best reason to remember.
It was Clarence Clayton.
He touched Mr. Packard's arm, and silently pointed to Clayton.
"Well, I'll be jiggered!" exclaimed the cattleman, in surprise. "That fellow has got nerve."
Mr. Clayton was evidently enjoying himself. Beside his plate stood a pint bottle of champagne of Delmonico's special brand. His dinner would probably involve an expense of five dollars.
"He must have sold or pawned the watch," suggested Rupert in a low voice.
At this moment Clayton looked around. He at once recognized the two whom he had last seen at the Battery.
"So we meet again?" he said, coolly.
"Yes," answered the cattleman. "You appear to be having a pleasant time."
"I generally do," returned Clayton.
"You seem to have negotiated a loan."
"I met a party who seemed to know more about gold watches than you do."
"I congratulate you," said Packard, dryly.
Clayton returned to the discussion of his dinner, and soon the two friends were served.
"Shall I order some champagne, Rupert?" asked the man from Colorado.
"Not for me. I have promised my mother to avoid drink."
"You are wise. Far be it from me to tempt you. I have seen too much of the evil done by intemperance."
Clarence Clayton evidently had no such objection to drink. He drained the bottle, and calling for a cigar, leaned back in his chair, with a self-satisfied smile.
"That fellow is a curiosity," Packard said. "He probably has good abilities, and would meet with success in an honest career. He has made poor use of his talents. I wonder if he ever reflects upon the inevitable end of his dishonesty?"
"It doesn't seem to trouble him much," returned Rupert.
Neither he nor Clayton observed the quiet entrance of a small, unobtrusive man, with sharp eyes, who, taking rapid glances at the guests, moved towards the table occupied by the adventurer.
Sitting in pleasant enjoyment of his cigar, Clayton's attention was drawn by a slight tap on his shoulder. Looking up in momentary impatience he saw the newcomer at his side.
Stifling an ejaculation he stared at him in dismay.
"Mr. Clayton," said Detective Darke, in a low voice, "I see you know me."
"No, I can't say I have the pleasure," stammered Clayton.
"You are polite to call it a pleasure. I am Richard Darke."
"Can I offer you a glass of champagne, Mr. Darke?"
"There doesn't seem to be any left in the bottle."
"I will order another."
"I won't put you to that trouble. I have business with you, and must request you to go with me."
"But–"
"I can take no denial," said the detective, sharply. "Go up to the desk, settle your bill, and then we will go out together. There will be no scene, and no one will know my errand, if you obey my directions."
Clayton went up to the desk, paid his check, and then, turning to the detective, said,
"I am at your service."
By this time Rupert noticed what was going on, and silently called the attention of Mr. Packard to it.
"Poor chap!" said the cattleman, as Clayton and his unwelcome companion left the restaurant, "his punishment has come sooner than I anticipated. He will be punished, but I am afraid the owner of the watch stands a poor chance of recovering his property."
"Probably he will get possession of the pawn ticket and so secure the watch, though it may cost him twenty-five dollars."
"It will be some time before the thief gets another such dinner as he has eaten to-night."
After supper Packard said,
"Are you feeling tired, Rupert?"
"Oh, no, sir."
"Then suppose we go to some theatre."
"All right, sir. What theatre do you prefer?"
"I leave the choice to you."
"Palmer's Theatre is very near."
"Then let us go there."
They reached the theatre just as the curtain was rising. Mr. Packard bought two choice seats, and they were soon seated in the orchestra. As soon as he had a chance to look about him, Rupert discovered to his surprise that Mr. Lorimer and Julian were sitting directly in front of him. At the sound of his voice Julian turned, and was greatly surprised to see the bell-boy occupying as high-priced a seat as himself. When the first act was ended, he took measures to gratify his curiosity.
"I am surprised to see you here," he said.
"It is a mutual surprise," responded Rupert.
"You know what I mean. It is not usual to meet bell-boys in orchestra seats."
"I was not asked at the ticket office what was my employment."
"Are you here alone?"
"No; let me introduce my friend, Mr. Packard, of Colorado."
Julian glanced at the cattleman, and was not impressed. Mr. Packard's clothing was by no means stylish. Julian naturally supposed him to be a person of small means and no particular consequence. He gave him a slight nod, and turned his face towards the stage.
"What is the name of that boy?" asked the cattleman.
"Julian Lorimer."
"Is he related to Stephen Lorimer?"
"Stephen Lorimer is his father. Do you know him?" asked Rupert, in surprise.
"Stephen Lorimer is a cousin of mine."
"There he is, next to Julian."
Mr. Lorimer's ears caught the sound of his own name, and, turning, he recognized Rupert, but not his cousin.
"You here, Rupert Rollins?" he said, in surprise.
"Yes, sir. Do you know this gentleman with me?"
Stephen Lorimer regarded the cattleman blankly.
"No," he answered slowly. "I don't know him."
"Perhaps you will remember the name of Giles Packard," said the cattleman, but his tone was cold and not cordial.
"Are you Giles Packard?"
"Yes."
Stephen Lorimer looked embarrassed.
"I hope you are prosperous," he said.
"Thank you—I am doing well now."
"Where do you live?"
"In Colorado."
"Ah! Mines?"
"No, cattle."
"Call and see me. Rupert will tell you where I may be found."
"I may do so."
"Is he a cowboy?" asked Julian, in an audible whisper.
Giles Packard heard the words and he looked at Rupert with a smile.
"He is like his father," he said.
They did not again speak. After the play Stephen Lorimer went out of the theatre without even a look at his new-found relative. Rupert and the man from Colorado, following slowly, made the best of their way down Broadway to the Somerset House.
"How came you to know Stephen Lorimer?" asked Packard.
"He and my father were in business together in Buffalo some years since. They failed, and I have always believed that my father was defrauded. At any rate he lost everything, while his old partner had money enough to start in the dry-goods business in New York."
"History repeats itself," said Packard. "Many years ago, when I was twenty-two, I was the partner of Stephen Lorimer."
"You!"
"Yes. In fact I furnished three-fourths of the capital. At the end of eighteen months we failed. I never could understand why, for our business had been good. Stephen kept the books, and I examined without being able to understand them. The upshot of it was that I was thrown upon the world penniless, while he soon went into business for himself in another place. I have not seen Lorimer for twenty years, till accident brought us together to-night."
"I am glad you are prosperous again."
"Yes. I have far more money than when I belonged to the firm of Lorimer & Packard."
"Perhaps Mr. Lorimer would take you in as partner again."
"I have no desire to be associated with him in any way. I believe him to be a thoroughly dishonest man. I am sorry that your father has suffered also at his hands."
Rupert accompanied Mr. Packard to the hotel, having agreed to relieve another bell-boy from midnight till six o'clock the next morning.
When he reached the hotel he found it a scene of excitement. The bell of No. 61 had been ringing violently for some time.
The other bell-boy had come downstairs in a panic.
"I can't get into No. 61," he reported. "There is somebody dead or murdered there."