The color left Felix Mortimer's face.

"I refer," continued the banker, "to his penmanship, which you must acknowledge is far superior to your own; and a good handwriting adds much to one's value in an office of this sort. I see you are disappointed, and I knew you would be. Do not, however, feel discouraged, as it is possible I may do something for you yet. If Mr.

Randolph should prove unsatisfactory in any respect, he will not be retained permanently. You may, therefore, if you choose, run in here again in a day or two."

Young Mortimer was greatly disappointed and even deeply chagrined, for he had supposed himself more than capable of holding his own against this unsophisticated country lad. Had he not attempted to bully him while waiting for the banker and failed, thus arousing a spirit of rivalry and hostility between young Randolph and himself, he would of course have felt differently, but now an intense hatred was kindled within him, and with burning pa.s.sion he determined upon revenge.

Felix Mortimer went direct from Richard Goldwin's banking house to the Bowery, and from there he soon found his way to a side street, which contained many old buildings of unattractive appearance. The neighborhood was a disreputable one. Squalor was on every hand, and many individuals of unsavory reputations made this locality their headquarters. One of these was Christopher Gunwagner, a repulsive specimen of humanity, who had been in business here for several years as a "fence," or receiver of stolen goods.

To this fence Felix directed his steps.

"Good morning, Mr. Gunwagner," said young Mortimer, briskly.

The former eyed him sharply for a moment.

"What do you want now?" growled the fence by way of reply. "Why don't you bring me something, as you ought to?"

Felix cut him short, and at once proceeded to business.

"I came," said he, "to get you to help me and thereby help yourself.

I've got a chance to get into a bank----"

"Into a bank?" interrupted Gunwagner, now interested.

"Yes."

"Where?"

"On Wall Street, in Richard Goldwin's banking house."

"If you don't take it, you're a fool. Goldwin's, hey?" he went on; "we can make it pay us; yes, yes, we are in luck." And he rubbed his thin hands together greedily.

"I expect to take it as soon as I can get it," said Felix; and then he described the compet.i.tive examination between himself and the young Vermonter.

"So you want to get him out of the way, eh?"

"You have struck it right this time. That's just what I want, and propose to do."

"And you expect me to help you?"

"Certainly I do. To whom else should I go?"

"What do you want me to do?"

"I haven't quite got the plan yet, and want your advice. You see if I can get him out of the way for a few days, so he won't show up, why old Goldwin will take me in his place. If I can once get in there, and remain till I get the run of things, we can have it our own way."

[Ill.u.s.tration: GUNWAGNER AND FELIX AGREE UPON A PLAN.]

Gunwagner's face grew more and more avaricious. The plan looked well to him, and he felt it would be a great thing to have Mortimer in a rich banking house. The possibilities of bold pilferings from the heaps of gold were most tempting to him, and he was now quite ready to commit himself to any feasible scheme to carry out Mortimer's evil design. The old fence was an unscrupulous man, and he was ready to go to almost any length in crime to avail himself of an opportunity so tempting to his greed of gain.

The two confederates discussed the matter for some time, and at length they agreed upon a plan of action, which boded ill for our hero.

CHAPTER VI.

A RAY OF SUNSHINE.

Young Randolph entered upon his duties at once, but of course did little more during the day than familiarize himself with the work that had been a.s.signed to him. Toward evening a ray of sunshine burst joyously into the bank, and threw a bright cheerful glow over the office.

Ray Goldwin, the light hearted, merry daughter of the senior partner, with her sunny face and winning manners, was like a clear June morning.

Little acts go far, many times, to make one happy or quite miserable. It so happened that our hero had been doing some writing for Mr. Goldwin's own personal use. It lay upon his desk and was admirably done. It was, in fact, like copper plate. The whole arrangement of the work was artistic and in the best of taste.

"Oh, papa, who did this beautiful writing for you?" said Ray, enthusiastically.

"Our new clerk, Mr. Randolph," responded her father, nodding his head in the direction of Herbert. The latter felt his cheeks grow rosy at this compliment.

"Mr. Randolph," continued the banker, "will you kindly help me take these parcels out to my carriage?"

"Certainly, sir, with pleasure," replied Herbert, politely.

[Ill.u.s.tration: YOUNG RANDOLPH HANDED RAY INTO THE CARRIAGE WITH JUST ENOUGH EMBARRa.s.sMENT IN HIS MANNER TO INTEREST HER.]

Ray Goldwin looked at him with surprise; and his handsome face and fine form attracted even more than a pa.s.sing glance from her.

"I want to run up to the corner of Broadway," said Mr. Goldwin, when they had reached the door. "John, you may call for me," he continued, addressing the coachman; "I will be ready by the time you get there."

Young Randolph handed Ray into the carriage, with just enough embarra.s.sment in his manner to interest her. Then he placed the parcels on the seat beside her, receiving meanwhile a smile and a look that fully rewarded him. Raising his hat, he turned away, and as the coachman drove off he made a hasty retreat for the bank, from which the sunshine now seemed to have departed.

When he started for home at the close of business hours, two figures stood on the opposite side of the street, a little nearer Broadway.

As Herbert opened the outer door, preparatory to pa.s.sing out, he took a position that brought his eyes directly upon them. One of them, uneasily, but perhaps quite naturally, placed a hand on the shoulder of his companion, while with the other he pointed directly at Herbert.

Then, as if realizing that possibly he had been detected in this act, he nervously pointed to something on the top of the building, and all the while talked rapidly. This was sufficient to arrest our hero's attention. He watched the two sharply for a few minutes while standing upon the steps of the banking house.

Under his direct gaze they appeared somewhat nervous, and finally moved off in the direction of Broadway. Herbert followed them, or rather followed out his purpose to go up to City Hall Park, and find, if possible, Bob Hunter. Before reaching Broadway, however, the two young fellows who had pointed at him stopped and peered into a show window, thus bringing their backs full upon Herbert as he pa.s.sed them.

He knew so little of city life that he was slow to form an opinion, thinking that what seemed odd and suspicious to him would perhaps be all right in New York. He therefore dismissed the matter from his mind, and watched with amazement the crowds of men who at that hour of the day were pouring up Broadway, on their way home from business.

"What a great city this is!" he thought; "and it is American, too. I wonder if any of the cities of the Old World can turn out such a lot of business men as these!"

The boy was right in asking himself this question. The wonder he felt was natural, for a finer body of men can rarely be found than the business men of New York. And now he joined the stream that flowed northward. The ma.s.sive buildings, tall and stately, on either side of Broadway, captured his admiration, and he gazed upon them with open mouthed amazement.

Stone buildings with gigantic pillars and ma.s.sive walls; buildings ten or a dozen stories high, and mighty spires raising their tops afar up in mid air--all these added to the country lad's wonder and astonishment.

He pa.s.sed by the Western Union building, the Evening Post building, and now paused in front of the Herald office to read the "headings" on the bulletin board.

After being thus engaged for a few moments, he turned suddenly around, and, to his surprise, saw the two young fellows who had attracted his attention on Wall Street. One of them had a look about him that seemed familiar, and yet he could not tell where he had seen him. His figure, his eyes, and the shape of his face were not unlike Felix Mortimer; and yet he looked older than the latter by two or three years, for he wore a small mustache and tiny side whiskers. Seeing these same fellows the second time, and noticing that they were apparently watching him, made Herbert feel a trifle uneasy. But he was not easily worried or frightened.