"I never thought about that before, Bob," said Tom, thoughtfully. "Who could I get to learn me?"

"You mustn't say 'learn you,' Tom. Herbert says that hain't right."

"What is it, then, Bob?"

"He says I must say 'teach me,' because I've got to do the learning myself."

"Well, that's too much for me, Bob; I want to start in on somethin'

easier."

At length this discussion ended by Tom falling in with Bob's opinion as usual, and by his agreeing to commence at once attending an evening school.

CHAPTER XXIV.

A VISIT TO THE BANKER'S HOUSE.

The disturbing elements that had produced the somewhat dramatic and extraordinary scenes of the last week were now apparently quiet. But were they actually so? This is the question that Herbert Randolph and Bob Hunter asked themselves--a question that caused them much anxiety.

Felix Mortimer, to be sure, was in the Tombs awaiting his trial. But the granite wall and the great iron doors were alike powerless to imprison his mind. He was as free as ever to think and to plot. What schemes of revenge might not then be planned by this boy whose hatred for Herbert Randolph now undoubtedly burned more fiercely than ever? And Gunwagner, his companion in crime, was free to carry out any plan that might be agreed upon between them. He had given bonds to appear when wanted by the court, something that Felix Mortimer was unable to do. This is why the latter was still locked up, while the old fence was allowed his temporary freedom.

Except for the constant anxiety that Herbert and Bob felt over this matter, everything went smoothly with them. Papers sold briskly, work at the bank was congenial, and they had already become much interested in each other. The days flew by quickly, and they looked forward to the evenings, which they spent together as a time for enjoyment and improvement. As often as Tom Flannery could leave his evening school he joined them, and he was always welcome. No one could help liking him, he was so simple and honest. How keenly he enjoyed an evening with Herbert and Bob in their room, or strolling about the great city, as they not infrequently did! Their slender means would not warrant them in attending the theater often. Occasionally, however, they managed to get inexpensive admission tickets to a really good play. Bob Hunter usually procured them as a reward for some service he had given during the day, when his paper trade did not demand his attention. Many very good free lectures, too, were open to them, and they seldom failed to improve this opportunity. The Young Men's Christian a.s.sociation building, with its fine library and gymnasium, proved a very attractive resort to these three boys, whose happiness, though they lived in the most humble way, was doubtless equalled by few boys in the great metropolis, however luxurious their home and surroundings.

One evening in particular young Randolph found especially enjoyable. It came about in this way. Mr. Goldwin had a slight attack of rheumatism that caused him to remain at home. He sent a note to his office saying he should not be at the bank on that day, and requesting Herbert to come to his house late in the afternoon, and to bring with him a report of the day's business, and whatever mail it would be desirable for the banker to see.

The young Vermonter read the note eagerly, and then immediately did the same thing over again. A peculiar pleasure shone in his eyes as he looked doubtingly at the little piece of paper. And now he saw a very attractive picture--a rich family carriage into which a charmingly pretty girl was being helped by a blushing boy. He wondered why she had never been at the bank since that time, and speculated dreamily upon his chance of seeing her at her father's house.

Thus the day wore away, and at the close of business hours young Randolph hurried from the bank, taking with him what he had been requested to bring.

At City Hall Park he stopped and informed Bob Hunter of his mission, and then went quickly to his room to put himself into the most presentable appearance possible with the somewhat scanty resources of his wardrobe.

His heart beat fast with expectations and fears as he ascended the brown stone steps of Mr. Goldwin's house.

"Good evening, Mr. Randolph," said the banker, greeting Herbert very cordially. "I hope you have a good report of today's transactions for me."

"Yes, I think this statement of the transactions will please you,"

replied young Randolph politely.

"Excellent," exclaimed the banker with a smile of satisfaction, as he read the report. "You have done a splendid day's work. The market must have been unusually active. Why, here is a transaction of twenty thousand shares by one house alone--great customers, Breakwell & Co., great customers, bold men--not afraid of anything."

"They certainly seem to be very enterprising," remarked Herbert, feeling the necessity of saying something, and that that something should concur with his employer's views.

"Most a.s.suredly they are," answered the banker, warming to the subject.

"Why, if we had more houses like Breakwell & Co., Wall Street would see no dull days--no, sir, none at all. On the contrary, it would just hum with activity."

"I suppose they are perfectly good, Mr. Goldwin," remarked Herbert, not knowing what better reply to make.

"Good? Why, they are rated A1, and are reported to be very rich,"

replied the banker.

"Did they make their money by speculating?"

"Yes, I understand so."

"Are they sure of keeping it if they continue to speculate?"

"Well, now, you are asking me a difficult question. Nothing, you know, is certain in Wall Street."

[Ill.u.s.tration: HERBERT'S FIRST VISIT TO THE BANKER'S HOUSE.]

Before Herbert had time to reply, dinner was announced. The question touching the reliability of Breakwell & Co. was immediately dropped, and in its place arose the unexpected problem whether or not he should accept the banker's invitation to dine with him and his family. He would have quite as soon thought of receiving an invitation to dinner from the mayor himself. It was quite natural, therefore, that he should offer some ridiculous reason why he should be excused, when, as a matter of fact, he would have much rather served another term of imprisonment at old Gunwagner's than lose this opportunity.

"Come right along" commanded Mr. Goldwin, himself leading the way.

Herbert followed the banker into the parlor, where he was introduced to his employer's wife and daughter.

He found himself blushing even more profusely than when he had handed Ray Goldwin into her carriage, at the close of his first day's service for her father. This heightened color, too, seemed to be reflected upon her cheeks, and her manner indicated a slight but not unnatural embarra.s.sment.

Herbert had thought that the dinner given by Bob Hunter was about as good as could well be served, but this one proved in every respect much the better; and notwithstanding his nervousness and lack of ease, under circ.u.mstances so unfamiliar, he enjoyed the meal greatly.

While Herbert Randolph could laugh at the drollery and peculiar street language of Bob Hunter and Tom Flannery, he nevertheless found a higher degree of pleasure in the conversation of this intelligent and refined family.

"Papa told us about your imprisonment, Mr. Randolph," said Ray, looking wonderfully pretty, as Herbert thought. "It must have been dreadful."

"It was an unpleasant experience," replied young Randolph, lightly; "but I came out all right."

"Ah, that reminds me," said Mr. Goldwin, "that one of the letters you brought me was from my attorney. In it he expressed the opinion that you can recover damages from the old fence for false imprisonment. I would therefore advise you to place the matter in his hands at once, and have him push it."

"You mean put it into the hands of your lawyer?"

[Ill.u.s.tration: "YOU EMBARRa.s.s ME," SAID HERBERT, BLUSHING.]

"Yes."

"I appreciate very highly your interest in my behalf, Mr. Goldwin, and I will do as you say," replied Herbert.

"Wouldn't it be splendid if you could get damages from that dreadful old man?" said Ray, with enthusiasm.

Thus the conversation ran on, and before the dinner had been finished, Herbert felt himself quite well acquainted with both Mrs. Goldwin and Ray. He had tried to convince himself that he did not care for girls, and he thought he had succeeded well in doing so. But for some inexplicable reason, his imaginary objections to the s.e.x in general did not stand long against Ray Goldwin in particular.

Her bright blue eyes, brimful of spirit and laughter, seemed to detect his aversion, and she aimed, he thought, to show him that he had deceived himself.

After the meal had been finished all repaired to the library, where, after a half hour of social converse, Herbert wrote several letters for Mr. Goldwin at his dictation. Ray sat opposite him with the purpose of reading, but as a matter of fact she did not progress very fast with the story.

"Would you be willing to write in my autograph alb.u.m, Mr. Randolph?"