CHAPTER XXIII.
A BAFFLED SCHEME
Both Julian Lorimer and his father felt mortified at the failure of their attempt to humiliate Mr. Benton. They had supposed he had neither friends nor influence and were very much surprised at his securing another position elsewhere at an advanced salary. They tried to find out where he was now employed, but without success. Julian inquired of Rupert one day when he met him, but the bell-boy refused to tell.
"Oh, it's a secret, is it?" sneered Julian.
"Yes, to you," answered Rupert. "Why did you wish to know?"
Rupert was confident that Julian meant mischief, and in the interest of Mr. Benton he declined to give him any information.
Of course this made Julian all the more anxious to gain his point. He got in the way of visiting every dry-goods store, and scanning the clerks and salesmen. But there are a good many such stores in New York, and it was some time before he made any discovery.
One day, however, he strayed into Grand Street, and entered a large store in quest of some cheap neckties which he saw exposed outside. Julian was rather a dude, and these ties had attracted his notice.
As he was passing through the store without any special thought of his father's old clerk, he chanced to pass by the counter where dress goods were sold. His face lighted up with malicious joy when he saw Benton measuring off a dress pattern for a lady. He stopped until the salesman was at leisure. Then, stepping up to the counter, he said, "Good morning, Mr. Benton."
Benton certainly was not pleased to see his old persecutor. Perhaps his countenance expressed his feelings as he answered, "Good morning, Julian."
"So it is here you are employed?"
"Yes, as you see."
"Did you come here directly from pa's store?"
"Yes. How did you find out that I was here?"
"I didn't find out till just now."
"Can I do anything for you? Do you wish to buy anything in my line?"
"No. I came in for some neckties. Do you ever see anything of Rupert Rollins?"
"Yes, he has a room at my house."
"Oho, I didn't know that. That accounts for his interest in you."
"I am glad he has an interest in me. He is a very good friend of mine."
"A poor boy like him isn't much of a friend. He can't do much for you."
"He got me this position."
"Did he?" said Julian, in some surprise.
"Yes."
Benton might have told Julian that Rupert owned two valuable lots in Harlem, but he thought it more proper that Rupert himself should make it known whenever he saw fit.
"Well, so long. I may see you again before long."
"I am not in the least desirous of it," thought Benton, but he answered civilly.
"Well, pa," said Julian, at dinner, "I saw your old clerk, Benton, to-day."
"Did you, indeed," said Mr. Lorimer, interested. "Is he out of work?"
"No; he's employed in a Grand Street store."
"Did you speak to him?"
"Yes."
"How did he appear?"
"He was better dressed than when he worked for you."
"I mean was he cordial?"
"Not very. I don't think he was very glad to see me. Good reason why."
"I wonder whether he is well paid?"
"I didn't ask him, for I knew he wouldn't tell me if I did. I have no doubt he gets a good deal more than what you paid him."
"They must have taken him without a recommendation," mused Lorimer.
"You wouldn't give him a recommendation, would you?"
"No, I should have to say that he was insubordinate and gave me trouble."
Julian Lorimer could be depended upon to act meanly and maliciously, without any scruples of conscience. Two days later Mr. Benton was summoned to the superintendent's room.
"You wished to see me, sir?" he said.
"Yes. I wish to show you a letter which the firm has received."
Henry Benton took the proffered letter, and read with what feelings can be imagined the following communication:
"Gentlemen—
"In visiting your store yesterday I saw a Mr. Benton behind the dress goods counter who used to work in our, that is, my father's store. I was surprised that you should employ him. He brought no recommendation from us, or if he presented one it was forged. My father found him unsatisfactory, and was quite glad to get rid of him. He is a poor man, and I don't want to injure him, but I thought it only right that I should tell you what my father thinks of him. He would not tell us where he was going, and it was only by chance that I found out.
Yours truly,"Julian Lorimer."
"Well, Mr. Wilson, I have read the letter," said Benton. "Is there anything you would like to ask me in reference to it?"
"Is the writer correct in his statements?"
"So far from it that his father asked me to stay longer, and offered me an additional dollar a week."
"Did you have any trouble when in Mr. Lorimer's store?"
"Yes; this boy Julian, who has nothing to do with the business, interfered with my work and was very insolent. I rebuked him and he succeeded in getting his father to discharge me. Afterward his father revoked the dismissal and wished me to stay. But I had already a situation offered me here, and I declined. I hope this letter will not prejudice you against me."
"By no means. Even without your explanation I understood pretty well the character of the writer of the note."
"Shall you answer it?"
"Yes; I have a curiosity to see the boy."
Julian Lorimer smiled with satisfaction when he received a letter inviting him to call at the Grand Street store.
"Things are working as I desired," he said to himself. "I think, Mr. Benton, your career will be brief, and you will soon be looking for another position."
He entered the store about ten o'clock, and took good care to walk by the counter behind which Mr. Benton was employed. The latter saw him, but after his interview with the superintendent he did not feel anxious.
"I am Julian Lorimer," announced Julian, as he entered the presence of the superintendent.
"You wrote us a letter, I believe?"
"Yes, sir."
"In relation to a clerk in our employ?"
"Yes. Mr. Benton."
"He used to work for your father?"
"Yes, sir. He was in father's employ rather more than a year."
"He stayed some time, then?"
"Yes; father didn't want to discharge him as he had a family."
"Very considerate on your father's part, certainly," said Mr. Wilson, in a peculiar tone, in which Julian did not detect the sarcasm.
"On the whole, your father did not find him satisfactory? What was the matter? Isn't he a good salesman?"
"Pretty fair," answered Julian. "Nothing alarming."
"Then what fault did he find with him? I suppose he was honest?"
"Yes, so far as we know."
"And still your father found him unsatisfactory. There must have been some cause of complaint?"
"He was impudent," said Julian. "He felt too large for his position."
"Was he impudent to your father?"
"No."
"To whom, then?"
"To me."
"Oh, to you. Were you employed in the store?"
"No, sir."
"Then I don't see how you could have come in contact with him."
"I used to go into the store sometimes. That was very natural, as it was my father's store."
"And on one of these occasions he was impudent to you?"
"Yes, sir."
"This is a serious charge. What would you advise me to do? Do you think I ought to discharge him?"
"I will only say this, that my father would not have him in the store."
"You said in your letter that you did not wish to injure him. If he should be discharged that would certainly be an injury."
"Yes, sir, I suppose so," answered Julian, with hesitation.
He was puzzled and could not understand what Mr. Wilson was driving at.
"I will send for Mr. Benton."
When Benton came into the presence of the superintendent, Mr. Wilson said,
"Mr. Benton, this boy, Mr. Julian Lorimer, has been bringing charges against you."
"I am not surprised to hear it, sir."
"He says you did not treat him respectfully when you were in his father's store; that, in short, you were impudent to him."
"There is some truth in my not treating him respectfully. He came up to my counter and interfered with my work."
"You were aware that he was Mr. Lorimer's son?"
"Oh, yes, sir."
"And yet you rebuked or snubbed him?"
"Yes, sir."
"He thinks that a serious matter. He thinks I ought to discharge you. My own feeling is that you treated him just right."
Julian looked paralyzed.
"And to make up to you for his malicious attempt to injure you, I will raise your salary two dollars a week."
"Thank you, sir."
"As for you, young man, I don't wish to see you in the store again. James, you may show Mr. Lorimer out."
Julian lost no time in getting out of the place. He had never felt so humiliated before. It would be hard to describe his blended rage and mortification. It was certainly aggravating to reflect that he had only succeeded in raising Mr. Benton's salary.
CHAPTER XXIV.
LESLIE'S PROGRESS
Leslie Waters obtained the situation of bell-boy through Rupert's recommendation, and entered upon his duties at once. He had failed in his ambition to become an actor. With his elevated ideas of the position of a member of the profession, he did not immediately become reconciled to figuring as a bell-boy, but it enabled him to live in the great city, which became daily more and more attractive to him.
Rupert engaged for him a small hall bedroom in the same house in which he was himself living. The price agreed upon was only a dollar and a half weekly, which, with his salary, he could pay without inconvenience.
Rupert was afraid that Leslie would prove too flighty and impracticable for his humble duties, but was agreeably disappointed. Accustomed to work on a farm in a quiet country town, Leslie found hotel life very attractive, and labored zealously to give satisfaction. The day after he went to work he wrote to his father in Rahway as follows:
"Dear Father—
"I hope you are not angry at my leaving home so suddenly. I had got tired of country life, and felt that I was destined to a career in the city. I was not sure what employment awaited me, but hoped in some way to make a living. I have succeeded—I have secured a position in the Somerset Hotel, on Broadway. I take my meals at the hotel, and am paid a salary of five dollars per week besides. I have to pay a dollar and a half for a room, and the balance of my pay will defray the rest of my expenses.
"I owe my success to a very friendly boy, not quite as old as I am, who is employed in the hotel. My hours are from six to six, so that I have my evenings to myself. I think you will agree that I am doing better and earning more than I ever did in Rahway. Of course I hope to be promoted, perhaps to go into some more congenial business when I get better acquainted in the city. If you should come to the city at any time I shall be glad to have you call at the hotel.
"Your son,"Leslie Waters."
In reply, Leslie received the following letter, written in a cramped hand, indicating that the writer was not accustomed to epistolary composition:
"Son Leslie—
"I have received your letter, and am glad to learn that you are not quite so foolish as I supposed. I was afraid you had the foolish notion of becoming a play actor. I never knew one in that profession who was a solid, sensible man. To my mind it is a very poor business. It is all very well for boys to speak pieces at school exhibitions, but when they start in to speak pieces for a livelihood it is very foolish. I surmised from some things I had observed in you that you had such a notion in your head, but I am glad I was mistaken.
"The hotel business is a good business, I am told. You don't tell me what your duties are, but you seem to be earning pretty good pay. I hope you will give satisfaction. You never earned even three dollars a week at farming, so that perhaps it may be well for you to stay where you are really earning a good income. Some time you may be qualified to keep a hotel yourself. Your mother's cousin keeps a hotel somewhere in Kansas, and I hear that he is making money. You did wrong to leave home without permission, but I will not find fault with you under the circumstances. When I go to New York I will call in and see how you are getting along. Your mother will make up a bundle of clothing and send you by express.
"Your father,"Jethro Waters."
Leslie showed this letter to Rupert.
"Your father doesn't suspect that you came to the city intending to go on the stage?" he said.
"No, he thinks I have given up my ambition to become an actor. He has no idea what a glorious profession it is. I don't suppose he ever went to the theatre in his life. I wish he could see Edwin Booth, or Irving, or Joseph Jefferson. Yet I suppose he would rather have me keep a hotel than become as great as either of these."
"It takes a smart man to keep a hotel, Leslie. Very likely Booth or Irving wouldn't succeed in that line."
"I hope some time I may get a chance on the stage. Will you go with me to-night to see Mansfield in 'Jekyll and Hyde'?"
"Yes; I have no other engagement."
That evening the two bell-boys had front seats in the gallery of a Broadway theatre, and saw Mr. Mansfield in his remarkable impersonation of the two contrasted characters. Leslie was filled with admiration.
"Do you know, Rupert, I think I will learn to act those parts in time?"
"You might succeed in Jekyll, but it would be more difficult to play the part of Hyde."
"Perhaps so. Indeed, I know you are right. But it is a part which I should enjoy. I have a great mind to make a study of it."
"If I were you I would try something easier."
"It is the hard parts that are best worth acting," said Leslie, grandly.
Rupert thought little more of this conversation, but two evenings later, as he sat playing checkers with Harry Benton, there was a knock at the door of Mrs. Benton's apartment. On the door being opened, Mrs. Spenser appeared. She was the lady of whom Leslie hired his room. She seemed to be quite excited.
"Oh, Mr. Rollins," she exclaimed, addressing Rupert, "I wanted to see you. I am so frightened."
Rupert looked up in surprise.
"What is the matter, Mrs. Spenser?"
"Your friend, Mr. Waters, is making a terrible noise. Is he subject to fits?"
"Not that I ever heard."
"I don't dare to go in. He is acting like a wild man. I never heard anything to equal it. Do you know if any of his family were ever crazy?"
"I will go and see what is the matter. I don't think you need be alarmed."
"If he is really crazy," continued Mrs. Spenser, "I don't think I can keep him, though I need the money he pays for room rent."
Rupert abandoned his game, and, accompanied by the frightened woman, proceeded to the part of the house where Leslie lodged. As he stood outside in the hall he heard Leslie in a low, guttural voice rehearsing the part of Hyde. One who was not familiar with the rôle or the play might be excused for being startled.
Rupert tried the door, and entered.
There was his associate bell-boy, half-crouching, and with his black hair carefully disordered, walking across the room, with his naturally pleasant face distorted by a grin as fiendish as he could make it.
"Look at him! He is certainly crazy!" ejaculated the terrified landlady. "He looks awful."
"What are you doing, Leslie?" asked Rupert.
Leslie looked up, and his face showed embarrassment when he saw his visitors.
"I am practicing the part of Hyde," he said.
"I thought so. You have frightened Mrs. Spenser, who thought you had a fit or were crazy."
Instead of being offended, Leslie took this as a tribute to his art.
"Yes," he said, "it is a frightful character. Did I really look dreadful?"
"Awful!" said Mrs. Spenser.
"That's the way Mansfield looked. Isn't it, Rupert?"
"Something like it, Leslie, but I shouldn't think you would like to imitate such a personation. Why don't you try Romeo?"
"Romeo is a silly character. He is only a sixteenth century dude."
"Then imitate Claude Melnotte, in the 'Lady of Lyons.'"
"I never saw it."
"In that character, instead of looking frightful, you would need to look handsome, romantic and attractive. If Mrs. Spenser should see you in that she wouldn't be frightened."
"Are you an actor, Mr. Waters?" asked the landlady, curiously.
"I hope to be some day," returned Leslie, much flattered.
"I am going to have some friends come in to see me Christmas evening. I should be very much obliged if you would do some acting for us, only not that Hyde," and she shuddered.
"I shall be pleased to do what I can, Mrs. Spenser," replied Leslie, graciously. "I will speak some pieces for you—some pieces that require acting. I have a recitation called 'The Tramp.'"
"I shall be very glad to have you. It will be a great favor. Don't you act, too, Mr. Rollins?"
"No; I leave all that to my friend Leslie."
The landlady retired, leaving the two boys alone.
"What did you think of my acting, Rupert?" said Leslie.
"If I could see it again I think it would give me a nightmare."
"I consider that a compliment," said Leslie, complacently. "I shall never be satisfied, Rupert, till I go on the stage."
CHAPTER XXV.
LESLIE WATERS AS A DRAMATIC STAR
A year passed; not an eventful year, however, nor did it materially change the position of the principal characters introduced in our story. Rupert was still a bell-boy in the Somerset Hotel. He had been raised three dollars a week, however, and was now receiving a salary of eight dollars, besides his board.
His friend Leslie Waters was doing satisfactory service at six dollars. He had by no means lost his love for the stage. He economized on clothing in order to attend the theatre. It must be said that his taste was good, and that he preferred standard plays and good acting to the sensational pieces that too often eclipse in success the better class of dramas. He had joined the Violet Dramatic Club of young men, meeting weekly somewhere on West Fourteenth Street. The members of the club laboriously rehearsed short plays, and offered their services gratuitously, or for a slight compensation, to charitable societies, and thus obtained some valuable training and a share of applause.
Of course Leslie Waters was always cast for a prominent part. Of all the members of the society he was the most ambitious, and the most willing to work. For a long time he tried to induce his fellow-members to essay a long play. He was particularly desirous of playing Claude Melnotte, in the "Lady of Lyons." The main difficulty, however, was in obtaining a young lady capable of playing Pauline. At length that difficulty was surmounted. A young lady of eighteen, from Brooklyn, the cousin of one of the members of the club, who, like Leslie, thought herself born for the stage, offered her services, and was adjudged competent, although rather disposed to overdo the part.
One day Leslie brought to his friend Rupert a circular to the following effect:
"The Violet Dramatic Club beg leave to inform their friends and the public generally that they will produce Bulwer's noted play,
The Lady of Lyons,
At Amaranth Hall, on First Avenue, on the evening of Thursday, May 6, with the distinguished actor, Leslie Waters, in the character of Claude Melnotte. Miss Ida Strassburger, an accomplished amateur from Brooklyn, will appear as Pauline.
"Tickets, 25 and 50 cents."
"The proceeds will be given to the Society for the Relief of Indigent Laundresses."
"What do you think of that, Rupert?" asked Leslie, with a complacent smile.
"I congratulate you on your opportunity to make a hit. I am glad it is you, and not I, who is to play the part of Claude."
"Of course you would hardly be competent. If you would like some light part, like that of a servant, I think I might have got you into the cast."
"Thank you, Leslie, but I have no ambition in that direction. Who is the Pauline? Do you know her?"
"It is Ida Strassburger, of Brooklyn. She is a cousin of one of our members."
"How does she play?"
"Pretty well, but she has something of the Bowery style; that is, she rather overdoes her part. I have tried to tone her down."
"Does she look the part?"
"Well, no. I am sorry to say it, but she is rather short and fat. She is German, as you may guess from her name. Still I think she will do, if she will be guided by me. You see we can't afford to be too particular about a Pauline, for it is harder to get actresses than actors."
"Do you feel at all nervous about your first appearance in a star part?"
"Oh, no, I never was troubled with stage fright. I have considerable confidence in myself."
This was quite true. Had Leslie been requested to appear as Hamlet, he would have had no misgivings, but with sufficient time for preparation would have walked on the stage prepared to enact the rôle of the melancholy Dane.
"I hope you will win the popular favor, and get your name before the public."
"I hope so. One of our members, who sometimes reports for the Evening News, has promised to write an account for that paper, and we hope to be noticed by the Sun and World."
"Suppose your father reads the account? Does he take either of these papers?"
"I hope he will. In fact I shall make sure that he does, for I will send the papers to him marked, getting you to address the wrappers. While he would object to my going on the stage professionally, I don't think he will mind my appearing for the benefit of a charitable society."
"Do you know anything about the Society for the Relief of Indigent Laundresses?"
"No."
"Yet you are going to work very hard for them."
"Oh, I don't care anything for the society. I would be willing to work for any society, as long as I got a chance to appear in a prominent part."
"I am not sure," said Rupert, laughing, "but I would like to have your club give a performance for the benefit of destitute bell-boys."
"I am quite ready, if any such society should be formed."
"I'll think about forming one, though I am glad to say I don't know of any destitute bell-boys at present."
Rupert bought several tickets, and invited the entire Benton family, including his young charge, to attend the performance.
Mrs. Spenser and her daughters received an invitation from Leslie Waters himself. The widow felt quite flattered.
"I am sure, Mr. Waters," she said, "I am proud to think a distinguished actor like you is a lodger of mine. It will seem so odd to see you on the stage. I don't see how you can do it."
"It comes natural to me, Mrs. Spenser," said Leslie, much flattered.
"And do you think you will ever go on the stage as a regular business, Mr. Waters?"
"I will if I have a good opportunity. To be a bell-boy does not satisfy my ambition."
"It is a good, steady business."
"Yes, but I feel that I was born for higher things. Anyone can be a bell-boy, but there are few who are qualified to become actors."
"I wonder your friend Mr. Rollins doesn't act."
"Well, you see, Rupert is a very good fellow, but I don't think he is gifted enough to become an actor, that is, a prominent actor. I offered to get him the part of a servant, but he didn't care to attempt it. Some time, Mrs. Spenser, when a child is needed in any of my plays, I may get the chance for your Sophie."
"Oh, Mr. Waters, how kind you are. Do you really think Sophie could act?"
"Yes, if I should train her. You know not very much is expected of a child."
"I should feel so proud to see my little girl on the stage. Did you ever see Elsie Leslie act?"
"Yes, she is very clever. I only wish she were old enough, and would consent to take the part of Pauline. She would be far better than Ida Strassburger."
"Is she pretty?"
"She is fair-looking, but she is too fat. However, she has a lover, a stout, young German, who, I understand, is jealous because on the stage I am to personate her lover. I presume he will be present. I will harrow him up by being a little extra affectionate."
"Now, Mr. Waters, you are really too bad. You ought to consider the feelings of the poor young man."
"His name is Otto Schaefer, and he is a butcher's assistant, I understand. I really hope he won't bring a butcher knife with him, for it might prove serious for me."
"Rupert," said Leslie in a mysterious tone, a few hours before the play, "I will tell you a secret if you won't breathe a word about it."
"Is it that you are engaged to the fair Pauline?"
"Oh, bother, no. Otto Schaefer may have her, if he wishes."
"What is it, then?"
"I have sent complimentary tickets to Palmer and Daly. Do you think they will come?"
"I imagine they are both very busy men, and cannot afford the time."
"I thought, if they should be impressed with my playing, one of them might offer me an engagement in his stock company."
"And you would like that?"
"Would I like it? It would make me supremely happy."
"Then you are not satisfied with the position of a bell-boy?"
"Certainly not. Are you?"
"For the present, yes."
"Should you be willing to be a bell-boy for the next twenty years?"
"No, I don't think I should, but I am still very young. I have just passed seventeen."
"And I am a year older. It is high time I entered upon my chosen vocation."
At length the eventful evening arrived. The hall was well filled, but the audience were from the neighborhood of First Avenue and Avenue A. Many of them were German or of German descent. The fact that Miss Strassburger, who was to play Pauline, was of Teutonic blood, doubtless accounted for this fact.
The play commenced and progressed smoothly. The actors were well up in their parts. Ida Strassburger, to be sure, hardly looked aristocratic enough for Pauline, her figure being decidedly dumpy. She assumed a coquettish air, and from time to time glanced from the corner of her eye at a short, stout German young man who sat but a few feet from the stage.
It is needless to say that this was Otto Schaefer, her Brooklyn lover. He seemed restless and ill at ease, especially when there were any affectionate passages between Ida and Leslie. For instance, when Pauline has to say, "Sweet prince, tell me again of thy palace by the Lake of Como; it is so pleasant to hear of thy splendors since thou didst swear to me that they would be desolate without Pauline," Otto's lip curled with scorn, and he glared at the prince with a hostile eye.
Towards the end of the play, when Melnotte presents himself after a long absence, and Pauline, recognizing her husband, rushes into his arms, Otto could stand it no longer. He sprang from his seat, jumped on the stage, and called out in an excited tone to Leslie: "You quit that! That gal is my promised wife."
Instantly there was a chorus of exclamations, and half the audience rose to their feet in excitement.