Terry's Trials and Triumphs Part 3

As for Terry Ahearn, so fervent was his sympathy with the South, that up to the time of his being taken into the office, had he ever received any encouragement, he would have unhesitatingly joined himself to the crew of a blockade-runner in any capacity they would have for him.

Happily for him they had no use for boys on board these vessels, and his desires remained unrealized, until the opening up of a new life to him through his being taken into Mr. Drummond's employment diverted his thoughts into an altogether different channel.

Certainly he had much to think about during the first period of his clerkship. It was a big change for a boy to make in a day--from careless, idle play in ragged clothes about a dock, varied by an occasional trip coastward, when he could persuade the captain of one of the many packet schooners to take him along as an extra hand, to steady-going service in an office, with the accompanying requirements of always being neat, well-dressed, and respectful in demeanour to those about him.

And greatly as Terry rejoiced in the sudden advance, he would have been more than mortal if he had not found his new environment bristling with difficulties which neither the favour of Mr. Drummond nor the friendly offices of Mr. Hobart could materially help him to overcome. He did not fail to feel keenly the marked contrast between his own speech and manners and those of Tom Morley, for instance; nor was he blind to the fact that his educational equipment was deplorably deficient. How bitterly he regretted that he had not taken more advantage of his opportunities at school, and how fervently he vowed to do his best to make up lost ground so far as might be possible!

It was no slight addition to his embarra.s.sments that all unwittingly he had at the very start incurred the enmity of Tom Morley, who thenceforward did everything that he dared to annoy him. Tom was a clever boy himself, and had enjoyed many advantages in his bringing up.

He took to business as naturally as a duck to water, and but for certain characteristics, would have been held in high esteem in the office.

Unhappily, however, he had a sly, jealous, selfish nature, that soon revealed itself, because, forsooth, he made little attempt to conceal it, and this effectually barred his way to popularity.

Even without the _contretemps_, for which he alone was responsible, on the morning Terry first came to the office, Morley would have taken a dislike to Terry simply because of his good fortune. Now that there was double cause for such a feeling, he let it have full play, and if poor Terry had done him some mortal injury he could not have shown a more vicious spirit towards him. He mimicked his brogue for the amus.e.m.e.nt of his fellow-clerks; he made sneering remarks about his clothes; he played practical jokes upon him to raise a laugh at his expense; in fact, he behaved so abominably towards him, that there were times when only the restraining influence of his surroundings kept Terry back from rushing upon him with clenched fists. Being thus beset, Terry found his lot far harder than he had conceived, and needed all the help that came to him from his mother's sympathy, Mr.

Drummond's kindly interest, and Mr. Hobart's good-humoured helpfulness, in order to keep up his courage. It was, therefore, a welcome inspiration to him when, on the Sat.u.r.day following the rescue, Miss Drummond appeared at the office, quite recovered from her startling experience, and as soon as she arrived asked for her rescuer.

In some trepidation Terry went into Mr. Drummond's sanctum, where he was warmly welcomed by the young lady.

"Why, Terry, how well you look!" she exclaimed, beaming radiantly upon him. "I'm so glad you're in my father's office. I know you're going to make a capital clerk."

Terry could find nothing to say; so Miss Drummond went on,--

"I believe, Terry, that an important thing in a clerk is to be always in time, and as I want you to have no difficulty on that score, I got this little timekeeper for you, and am going to ask you to wear it in memory of to-day week, so that you won't forget the service that you rendered me then."

While thus speaking she took from her reticule a small watch in a silver case, with a neat silver charm attached, and opening the case showed Terry where his name in full was engraved inside, and underneath it the words, "In recognition of rescue," with the proper date appended.

Drawing Terry towards her, she secured the watch in his vest, while he did his best to stammer out his grat.i.tude.

"Never mind about thanks, Terry," said Miss Drummond. "You may consider it your medal for life-saving, you know. And never forget, Terry, that in business a good watch is the next best thing to a good conscience."

Terry went back to his place in a tumult of joy and pride. Naturally enough, the first thing he did was to show his new treasure to Mr.

Hobart and the others. They all admired it, and congratulated him; except Morley, who, professing to be very much engrossed in his work, bent a scowling face over his desk. Terry's good fortune had affected him in the same way that Joseph's rather indiscreet relation of his dreams affected his elder brethren, so that without any other cause of offence he came to "hate him, and could not speak peaceably unto him."

As may be easily understood, Terry gave him many chances to vent his baseless spite. Everything about the office was utterly new to him.

The days were full of blunders, and whenever these were explained there was Morley enjoying the poor boy's discomfiture, and, if Mr. Hobart did not happen to be at hand, letting fall cutting remarks that made Terry wince as though they were strokes of a whip.

Although none of the other clerks showed the same spirit as Morley, still they did not attempt to interfere, partly because they thought that Terry needed to be "licked into shape," and partly because they did not approve of his advent quite as cordially as Mr. Hobart. He was of a different cla.s.s from them, and they could not sympathize with him in the same degree as if he were one of themselves.

Thus the new way that had been opened up to Terry proved to be set thick with difficulties, which would severely test his qualities of self-control and determination in order to their overcoming; and when the boy's previous life and surroundings were taken into account, the chances could hardly be said to be in his favour.

Mr. Hobart, it is true, showed every disposition to befriend him; but he was a very busy man, the hardest worker on the whole staff, and there were days when a kind, encouraging smile as he bustled about his work was all the communication Terry had with him.

It soon became clear to Terry that he must fight his own battles--that, as Mr. Drummond had said, he must make his own way--and it was with many misgivings as to the result that he set himself to the undertaking.

CHAPTER IV.

PERILS BY THE WAY.

By the end of his first month of service Terry had become somewhat accustomed to the novelties of his position, and bid fair to prove a useful acquisition to the staff. His intimate knowledge of the business portion of the city stood him in good stead. He knew every wharf in Halifax, and more than half the vessels that tied up at them, and could always be counted upon to find any one of them that the office wanted to communicate with.

There were many times when, being on some commission of this kind, he was sharply tempted to indulge in a little dalliance with his old playmates, who were more eager for his company than ever now that they were deprived of it. On a hot summer day, after a long forenoon of tiresome tramping through the dusty streets delivering bills or getting replies to inquiries, the longing to take a plunge into the cool green water of the dock was very hard to resist. At such times his fine clothes were apt to feel like fetters, which it would be an inexpressible relief to cast off and return to his former tatters.

Again and again he succeeded in withstanding the temptation; but one sultry, oppressive afternoon in August proved too much for him, and he yielded, though could he only have foreseen the consequences he would surely have held firm.

He had been sent out to collect wharf.a.ge accounts. They were usually trifling as to amount, and the method was for the clerk paying the bill to mark it down in a small book Terry carried as well as to take a receipt, thus making a double record.

This fateful afternoon it happened that Terry's collections reached a larger amount than usual, totalling up nearly fifty dollars. He finished his round away up at West's Wharf, and feeling very hot and tired went down to have a look at the cool salt water. He found there a half-dozen boys, nearly all of whom he knew, just getting ready for a hilarious swim in the dock. They hailed him at once with pressing requests to join them.

"Come along, Terry; off with your duds. It's a great day for a duck,"

and so forth, growing more and more urgent as they perceived him to waver in his resolution of refusal. Finally, a couple of them, having got rid of their own garments, rushed upon him, and seizing him on either side, proceeded to pull off his hat and coat, and to unb.u.t.ton his vest; while the others, with loud shouts of, "Here she goes! Who's last?" dived joyously into the seductive depths.

This was more than Terry could stand. Giving each of his captors a smart slap that sent them capering off uttering feigned cries of pain, he tore off his own clothes, flung them in a heap on the wharf, and with a shout of "Here we are again!" described a graceful parabola in the air ere he shot head first into the water.

He had what he would have called a "high old time." Abandoning himself entirely to the pleasure of the moment, the restraint of the preceding weeks gave all the keener zest to his enjoyment. He was the very last to leave the water, and when he came out several of the boys had already dressed and gone away. He did not notice this until he took up his clothes to put them on. Then, to his surprise, he found that his vest, containing the money that he had collected, was missing.

Thinking that this was merely an attempt at a joke on him, he said good-humouredly, as he hastened to dress,--

"When you fellows have done with that vest, just bring it back, will you?"

But the only response was a general protest of entire ignorance on the part of those around him, and although, growing angry, he threatened all sorts of vengeance upon the perpetrator of the joke if he did not promptly make rest.i.tution, he was still met by persistent denials.

While in the very midst of this, Tom Morley came down the wharf looking sharply about him. On catching sight of Terry he first made as though he would go up to him. Then a thought flashed into his mind that caused him to halt, and with a smile of malicious satisfaction playing over his ugly face, he wheeled about and vanished up the wharf.

But threaten or coax as he might, Terry could learn nothing as to what had become of his vest, save that it must have been carried off by one of the boys who had gone ash.o.r.e and dressed before any of the others, and--what made matters worse--the latter did not seem to know anything about him. They had not seen him before that day, and they had no idea whence he had come or whither he had gone.

When the full sense of his loss came to Terry he was in a sad state of mind. The thief, whoever he was, had got away not only with the fifty dollars, but with the silver watch--Miss Drummond's gift. Little wonder then if the poor boy, going off to a corner where he would not be observed, gave way to tears.

He felt himself to be in a very serious plight. Had he been doing his duty when robbed he need not have feared an explanation. But he had been neglecting his duty; and not only so, but Tom Morley, who, as he well knew, would take only too much pleasure in telling on him, had caught him in the act.

"I can never go back to the office," he sobbed. "They'll not believe me whatever I say. They'll be thinkin' I've taken the money myself, and made up a story to get out of the sc.r.a.pe. Oh, if I could only lay my hands this blessed minute on the villain that run off with my vest!

Just wouldn't I give him the worst licking he ever had in his life--bad cess to him!"

The heat of his anger against the cause of his distress dried up his tears, and feeling somewhat ashamed at having allowed them to flow, he gave himself a shake, and without any definite purpose in mind strolled over to the other side of the wharf, where a smart schooner was moored.

Now it chanced that the captain of this schooner was a friend of Terry's, having taken some interest in the bright, energetic boy whom he had seen at Long Wharf; and he happened to be sitting on the cabin deck when Terry came along, looking very downcast. "Hollo, Terry!" he cried cheerily. "You seem to be in the dumps. What's the matter?"

Terry had no inclination to tell him the reason of his dejection, so he evaded the question by responding--

"Nothin' much;" and then adding in a tone of decided interest, "Where are you going? you seem near ready to start."

"So I am, Terry," replied the captain. "I'll be off for Boston inside of an hour. Would you like to come?"

Terry's heart gave a sudden leap. Here was a way out of his difficulties. If he stayed in Halifax, he might have the police after him at any moment, and of the police he had a most lively dread; while, if he slipped away to Boston, he would be rid of the whole trouble.

"Do you mean it, captain, or are you after foolin' me?" he asked, peering eagerly into the mariner's honest countenance.

"I mean it right enough, Terry," was the reply. "I'm wanting a cabin-boy, and you'll do first-rate. Can you come aboard at once?"