The Little Gold Miners of the Sierras and Other Stories Part 15

"Yes," said both boys meekly. Perhaps they were rather glad than otherwise of any expression of authority which could plausibly end what they were secretly longing to give up. As partners they had been faithful to each other's interests; but did it pay to give up base-ball, week after week, just to carry out an idea! Hal's money was gone, and both boys had done a large amount of "trading" of books and curiosities for some other boys' half-used chemical stock. Ned was sure he knew enough to aid him in his profession; and Hal valued failure as an exponent in indicating, negatively, his future career.

"Glad of it;" Ned ventured to a.s.sert at last when the family had dispersed and windows were closed. "We must clean up, and we might as well sell out the whole concern, take account of stock, and divide the profits."

"Don't flatter yourself," replied Hal, "that there'll be much profit. If there is I ought to have two thirds of it as I put in the most capital."

"Yes, as far as cash goes, but brains count too, and I think you will admit that the ideas have been furnished by me chiefly; besides my trousers were burned more than yours. But I don't care--divide things as you like. I am agreed."

II.

AS OFFICE BOY.

When all was definitely settled between Ned and himself, and the a.s.sets of the firm disposed of, Hal felt, for some days, as if he had been to a funeral. He wandered around the house disconsolately, and then, suddenly, a new influence crossed his path which promised tangible and immediate rewards in other fields of labor. Money prizes were offered to graduates of the High Schools for the best two essays which should be written, one on the Colonial Policy towards Quakers; the other on the Value of Republican Government. The money was not considerable, but the work looked toward political journalism, perhaps on to a career like Motley's or Bancroft's. Hal had always been an attentive lounger around newspaper offices on election nights, and in the Representatives Hall of the State House when any interesting bill was being debated. This he considered as proof of his love of history; history was the one study, too, in which he invariably gained the highest marks at school. These "indications" greatly encouraged him now. He felt impelled to write the essays, even if they should be failures, because he was really interested in the subjects and had often talked with his father about them both.

The closing day of school soon came. The boys marched, sang, received their diplomas and then threw up their hats, when free and in the street. Very early the next morning Hal visited three libraries and took down the t.i.tles of innumerable books and sketched two plans for he intended, as I have before said, to write two essays, each in different style thus to increase his chance of success. He selected "Nisus Sum"

and "America," as signatures. He furnished himself with a quart bottle of ink, a box of pens, two dozens of lead pencils and two reams of paper, and greatly enjoyed these preliminaries.

Thus equipped, he began with no depressing circ.u.mstances, except his mother's words, that if by the first of September he had not decided what he should like to do, she should decide for him. He went out of town, as usual, in the hot weeks; he fished, and climbed hills, and got lost, as usual; but through it all, he thought and read of the Colonial Policy, and wondered whether he should have fallen in love with a Quaker girl, and whether the troubles between England and Ireland arose from a need of Republican government. In spite of his ramblings, and in spite of some discouraged moods, some unexamined idea always urged him on, and the result was that in two months he had prepared rough sketches of his work, and his parents were, this time, convinced of his earnestness.

Coming home the very evening of the first day of September, the day and the hour he had dreaded as the last of his liberty, because as he had not made up his mind, it was to be made up for him, he saw two men lifting his father out of a carriage. He stopped and looked at them. He had no power to speak or help. He saw them carry his father up-stairs and lay him on the bed. Then, at a word from his mother, he went for a doctor. He never could recall the manner of his errand, but the physician came; at last some one said to him:

"It is a slight shock of paralysis. If another does not follow, he will soon get well." This was like saying to him, "If your father does not die, he'll live."

How long was he to wait for that knowledge! An hour would be a year and a year would be a century. He helped in all things as he was told to do; but his fingers were like thumbs and his feet like clubs. He felt a singular and confusing sense of ident.i.ty with his father, as though the paralysis had included him.

By and by, the room grew quiet. He and his mother were left alone; he would have given anything if he had dared to speak or touch her. Nothing was near him. Had he ever been a boy? Was there a prize essay? Were there only three people in the world--his father, his mother and himself?

Later came his uncle. His mother then called him by name for the first time in those terrible hours, and bade him bid his father good-night.

As he went mechanically to do so, his father seemed to keep Hal's hand in his own numb fingers, and to look most imploringly, the mother's hand on to Harry's. The mother, as the hands met, said, "Hal will take care of me, dear," and Hal exclaimed, "I will." Then they knew they were right in their interpretation as the sick face brightened and the eyelids slowly closed in weariness.

Hal went up-stairs to his own room. The thinking he did that night made a man of him. He was sure his father would live, but also that his salary would cease, and that he himself must help to support the family.

"And so help me G.o.d, I'll do it," said he, "but I'll win the prizes too." The growing strength of his purpose soon overcame him and he fell asleep to dream of Olympic games and wreaths of victory.

When the physician's visit was over the next day, the world did not look quite so dark. Uncle Joe was to live with them awhile, and the father was conscious and quiet.

"Good-by, mother," said Hal.

"Good-by," she answered.

The front door closed, and Hal went down town to the office of Newton & Bryce, old friends of his father's. He walked up to the senior partner, and said, very like a mechanical toy unwinding:

"My father has had a stroke of paralysis. He can't do anything for months. I heard you say once that if you could get an office-boy who could keep accounts you would make it worth while for him to stay with you. I can."

"Stop, stop," said Mr. Bryce. "I had just heard of your father's illness and am very sorry. But you talk so fast I don't understand you. What is it you want? Who sent you?"

"No one. I suppose I did rattle on, but I had been saying over to myself on the way down what I meant to say to you, like points in an essay."

"Points in an essay! The boy is a daft one."

"I'm all right, sir, or will be, if you take me. How much wages can you pay?"

The senior partner smiled. "Three dollars a week at first, and more by and by--is that what you want?"

"I need my evenings, sir," said Hal. "I forgot to mention that."

"You can have them--but why?" As Hal made no reply, Mr. Bryce added kindly: "Never mind. The boy I have goes to-night. I was to tell him to-day whether I would take his brother, or make an arrangement with the janitor. I have no opinion of office-boys I'll confess to you, young sir. But for your father's sake, I am going to try you. Be here to-morrow at eight o'clock, put the office in order, get the mail, and have my table ready for me at half-past eight."

"Much obliged, thank you. For my father's sake, I'll furnish you with an opinion of office-boys presently," said Hal. He started and got as far as the door, when he turned back. "I really do thank you," said he.

"That's a new sort of boy, anyway--one consolation," said Mr. Bryce.

"But it will cost something to teach him. Bother the change!"

"Mother," said Hal on reaching home, "I've been and gone and done it. I am an office-boy at three dollars a week now; more in prospect."

"You blessed child!" she exclaimed; and then she and Hal had a good old-fashioned cry together which saved much talking, explanation, and advice.

Hal's work was promptly done the next morning. Mr. Bryce's table was ready at half-past eight, in ideal order. Yet though he went to the bank, wrote, and added figures, he still had much idle time on his hands. Therefore, the following day, when there was really nothing more for him to do, he felt at liberty to seat himself at a table and begin to write. Mr. Bryce, noticing him thus occupied, walked leisurely by and beheld out of the corner of his eye two rolls of ma.n.u.script; but if the boy could be silent, so could his master.

Still the master's curiosity was excited. This "new kind of office-boy"

piqued his interest. "I'll call him off, and see how he'll take it,"

reasoned Mr. Bryce; and he whistled. Hal came at once, alert, attentive, and did the errands a.s.signed. Mr. Bryce could not detect any sign of a preoccupied mind.

Thus pa.s.sed the week. Hal bore home his first earnings, Sat.u.r.day night, and laid the bills on his father's bed with a deeper and more pleasurable feeling of having done something worth doing than he had ever felt or dreamt of before. Yet if any one had spoken a word of appreciation to him, he could not have borne it.

That first week was the type of weeks to come. His office-work was not heavy, though he was more and more trusted. At times he had to bite his lips, as his brain came to a sudden stop in its work when the whistle sounded for him in the midst of his own personal copying or reading. But as the evenings grew longer and his father better, he had more time at home to work on his essays. He had however, decided to give up trying for two prizes, and he also had become very doubtful about the certainty of receiving even one; as his ideal of an essay grew and perfected itself, and as he realized how much hard work was required in both reading and reflection and even in any truly logical arrangement of his ideas. He had made several rough drafts of his essay. He had wholly rewritten it twice. But the hard work of form, development and finish remained. Still when he considered his previous failures as carpenter and as chemist, he was determined to be patient with himself and try his utmost with this plan. In this painstaking mood the essay was completed.

He sent it in on the last hour of the last day a.s.signed.

III.

AS HISTORIAN.

Now that Hal had sent in his essay he felt weary, for the excitement of composition and of haste had ceased; and he tormented himself, too, by recalling sentence after sentence which he wished he could remodel. Also memory brought back his past failures; he had not succeeded as chemist or carpenter and all the boys knew it. What would they say when his name would be posted on the bulletin, down town, as a Rejected Essayist?

Presently too, it was announced that the bestowal of the Old South Prizes must be deferred as an unexpectedly large number of essays had been presented! Hal whistled, shrugged his shoulders, refused to endure the suspense, cast aside his interest in the matter, and resolved to settle down into an office-boy.

He cleaned the office more vigorously than ever, and as he began a catalogue of his employer's library, there arose the faint glimpse of a new hope, in the thought that his present pursuit might eventuate in his being a lawyer. But with it there came a hot flush of shame as he remembered his many visions of the future; and to get rid of them he would run to the bank on an errand with such fury that his haste suggested a panic. But in spite of all his changes of intention he was growing manly; making character, developing mental fibre and muscle; his mother trusted him with her hopes and fears, and his father talked to him with a respect that was very consoling to his wounded spirit. Also the boys ceased to come for him in the evening; if they met him on the street, they called him "a dig" and asked him what new hobby made him so serious.

Some months had thus pa.s.sed, when one day, Hal, who had almost forgotten his history in his law, thought Mr. Bryce's whistle for him had a peculiar sound. "Get your hat," said the lawyer, "and follow me. I want you to go to the Court House."

Hal's active imagination instantly saw himself seated there as Judge.

Yes, law was his vocation. But when there, he was almost pushed into a corner, while Mr. Bryce pointed him out to the clerk of the court. This rather frightened Hal, but he felt rea.s.sured at the command to stay where he was until the clerk should bid him go for Mr. Bryce, for the latter could not afford to spend the morning in court waiting for his case to come up.

It was a new world to Hal and his astonishment and interest was increased as he recognized an old playmate in the one who was being examined. An officer had removed the boy's jacket and was calling the attention of the Judge to long, deep welts on the boy's back, the result of lashes inflicted by his father, because his son earned but little.

The contents of a dirty paper-bag were also exhibited, as being the only dinner allowed the boy, who, with his mouldy crust, walked three miles each day to the shop where he worked. That very morning he had been so dull, that some one, suspecting the truth, had told "the boss" of his condition, and through an officer of the "Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children," his case had been brought into court.

Poor Hal! perhaps he was born to be a philanthropist after all. He resolved to interest himself in the S. P. C. C. Visions of "cases"

hunted out and brought before the officers, thrilled his soul. How he ached for this particular boy! and how he contrived to make that boy feel he was there and to tuck some lozenges into his hand, as his former companion pa.s.sed by him under the kind guardianship of the Secretary of the Society; and then the clerk ordered him to find Mr. Bryce.

The next day, when he was summoned to Mr. Bryce's inner office, from dreams of himself as the eminent legal adviser and prosecutor for the S.