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"More. I don't care to tell you just how much I get."
"By the way, there was an old man in the office yesterday inquiring after you."
"Did he give his name?"
"Yes. He said his name was Silas Tripp."
"What on earth brought Mr. Tripp to New York?" Chester asked himself.
This question will be answered in the next chapter.
CHAPTER XXVI.
A STRANGER IN NEW YORK.
It was not often that Silas Tripp went to New York. The expense was a consideration, and again he found it difficult to leave his business.
But he had received a circular from an investment company in Wall Street, offering ten per cent. interest for any money he might have to invest. High interest always attracts men who love money, and it so happened that Silas had five hundred dollars invested. The difference between six and ten per cent. interest on this sum would make twenty dollars annually, besides a contingent share in extra profits promised in the circular, and on the whole he thought it would pay him to make the journey.
He went at once to the office of Messrs. Gripp & Co., on his arrival in the city. He found the financial agents occupying handsome offices, well furnished and covered with a thick Turkey carpet. Everything betokened prosperity, and Mr. Tripp was dazzled. The result was that he made the investment and laid away in his old-fashioned wallet five new bonds, a.s.suring a dividend of ten per cent.
"I calc'late it's safe," he said to Mr. Gripp, a stout man with a florid face, expensively dressed and sporting a large and showy diamond ring.
"a.s.suredly, my dear sir," said Gripp, with suavity. "I congratulate you, Mr. Tripp, on making an unusually profitable investment. I venture to say that within the year, besides the regular dividend, there will be an extra dividend of five per cent., making fifteen per cent. in all. It is a pity you had not more invested."
"Mebby I'll bring you in some more bimeby," said Mr. Tripp, cautiously.
"I trust you will, for your own sake. To us it is not important, as we have plenty of capital offered. Indeed, we have had to limit investments to five thousand dollars for each person. Why, a millionaire, whose name would be very familiar to you if I could venture to mention it, came here last week and wanted to invest fifty thousand dollars in our bonds, but I firmly refused to take more than five thousand."
"I don't see why you should," said Silas, puzzled.
"I will tell you why. We wish to give a chance to smaller investors, like yourself, for instance. Rich men have plenty of ways in which to invest their money to advantage, while you probably don't know where to get over six per cent."
"No; I never got more'n that."
"I dare say you have considerable invested at that small interest."
"Well, mebbe."
"Think how much it would be for your advantage to get four per cent.
more."
"To be sure, sartin! Well, I'll think of it, Mr. Gripp. Mebbe I'll come and see you ag'in soon."
Mr. Gripp smiled to himself. He saw that the bait was likely to prove effective.
"Well, good-by, Mr. Gripp. You'll send me any information about the bonds?"
"Yes, Mr. Tripp, with pleasure. Whenever you are in the city, even if you have no business with us, make our office your home. Whenever you have any letters to write, we will furnish you a desk and all facilities."
"Thank you, Mr. Gripp; you're very obleeging."
So the old man went out, feeling very complacent over his new investment, and much pleased with the handsome way he was treated by Mr. Gripp.
"Lemme see," he reflected. "I've got five thousand dollars invested. At ten per cent. it would amount to five hundred dollars, and with an extra dividend of two hundred and fifty dollars more. I'll have to think it over. All seems safe and square, and Mr. Gripp is a real gentleman."
Silas Tripp looked at his watch. It was only half-past ten. How should he occupy his spare time?
"I guess I'll go and see Chester Rand," he said. "His mother told me where he was working. Perhaps he'll know of some cheap place where I can get dinner. The last time I was in the city it cost me forty cents.
That's a terrible price."
Mr. Tripp knew the location of Mr. Fairchild's office, and after some inquiry he found his way there. He felt so much like a stranger in the big city that he antic.i.p.ated with pleasure seeing a familiar face.
Perhaps Chester would invite him out to lunch, and Mr. Tripp, in his frugality, would not have declined the offer even of an office boy, as long as it would save him expense.
Felix Gordon was just leaving the office on an errand.
"Is that Mr. Fairchild's office?" inquired Silas.
"Yes," answered Felix, with rather a disdainful glance at Silas Tripp's rusty garments.
"Much obleeged to ye," said Silas.
He entered the office and glanced about, expecting to see Chester.
David Mullins came forward, and with some show of civility greeted the old country merchant. Though he was not naturally polite, he knew that the size of a man's purse could not always be judged from the cut or quality of his garments, and he was just as ready to make money out of Silas as out of any fashionably dressed customer.
"Is Mr. Fairchild in?" asked Silas.
"No; Mr. Fairchild is out West. I am Mr. Mullins, his bookkeeper, and represent him."
"Just so! Have you a boy workin' for you named Chester--Chester Rand?"
"Are you a friend of his?" asked the bookkeeper.
"Well, yes. I come from Wyncombe, where he lives, and I know his folks.
I was told he was workin' here."
"Yes, he was working here," answered Mullins, emphasizing the past tense.
"Isn't he here now?" demanded Silas, with surprise.
"No."
"How's that?"