Two Boys and a Fortune Part 20

CHAPTER XVII

REX ARRIVES IN NEW YORK

"I say, Roy, can you lend me three dollars?"

Rex had crossed the hall to his brother's room some time after the family had come up stairs.

"Why, where's all your money gone to, Rex? I thought you were saving up to get mother a present."

"So I was, but-- but I've bought it and now I haven't got enough left to take me down to Marley to-morrow night. Just let me have three dollars. I'll pay you back when I get my next allowance on Monday,"

"You've bought mother's present!" exclaimed Roy. "What did you get?

Let me see it,"

"No, I want to keep it a secret till I give it to her," replied Rex quickly. "Now about that three dollars, can you let me have it, old fellow?"

"Certainly I can, but be sure to give it back to me Monday, as I haven't enough to get the present I have set my heart on. I'll-- but there, if you won't tell about yours, I shan't say anything about mine. Then we'll have a grand surprise party all around on the third."

Roy stepped to his dressing case and took out a two dollar and a one dollar bill, which he handed to Rex.

"Thanks, ever so much," murmured the latter. "Good night," and he hurried back to his own room.

He had never felt so mean in his life. Not only had he just obtained money under false pretenses, but he had told two or three falsehoods of the most unblushing description.

Roy's very readiness to oblige him added to his weight of remorse.

He sat down on the edge of the bed and began to tuck the money away in his pocket book. Was he really a criminal? he asked himself.

How horrified they had all been when they thought Mr. Charles Keeler had been an inmate of jails. Was it any worse to have committed a crime and have been punished for it, than to commit the crime and not be found out?

For a moment or two he was-- shall I call it tempted?-- to go back to his brother's room, return the three dollars and confess the whole thing. Then he thought of New York, of his induction to a college town, of his promise to Harrington to meet him at the station.

"No; I must go now," he reflected. "I can call it sowing my wild oats," and he undressed as quickly as possible and got into bed, as if fearful that his repentant tendencies would conquer in spite of him.

He was very quiet the next day. About ten o'clock Harrington came in to see him. It was the first time he had ever been to the house. Rex had not asked him, thinking he had no special attractions to offer him.

Mrs. Pell and the girls were out shopping. Roy was down at the office with Syd. Rex asked Harrington if he would like to come up in his room.

"Of course I would. A fellow's generally curious about the inside of a house when he's been looking on the outside of it half the days of his life."

So Rex took him up stairs. He admired the "den," as he called it, immensely.

"Wait till you see mine at Yale," he added, as he struck a match to light his inveterate cigarette. "I don't do much fixing up at home here, I'm here so little. By the way, you don't mind me smoking, do you?"

"Oh, no," replied Rex faintly.

Nevertheless, he was wondering what his mother would say if the odor still lingered when she came. Sydney did not smoke at all, and the entire family abominated cigarettes.

Mrs. Pell did come home shortly after Harrington had taken his departure. She came up to the third floor to put away some flannels she had bought for the boys.

"Reginald," she said, as soon as she entered the room, "you have been smoking."

Rex was reading by the window, and he turned around in startled disquiet.

"No, I haven't, mother," he replied quickly.

"Where does that smell of cigarette smoke come from, then?" and Mrs.

Pell coughed and then came up close to look her son in the eye.

"Dudley Harrington has been here," he replied. "He was smoking."

"You are sure you were not smoking with him?" went on Mrs. Pell, adding with a sudden bending down over him, "Kiss me."

Rex complied, glad indeed that this time, at any rate, there was nothing he wished to conceal.

"Forgive me for doubting you, Reggie," said his mother, as she lingered an instant to stroke the hair back from his forehead.

Once more Rex weakened in his purpose, if one can be said to weaken when he is really stronger for the moment to resist an impulse for evil. But then he reflected that now he had the money and the opportunity of getting off to the station without being questioned.

The facts seemed to will that he should go.

And he went, stopping for Harrington at half past four. When they reached the station he found that he had to pay a dollar extra for the privilege of riding over to New York in the Chicago Limited.

But it was very select to travel on such a train, and the dinner that he and Harrington ate en route was one long to be remembered.

In fact there were so many new and novel sensations and impressions received from this first stage of his trip, that Rex was surprised he did not derive more solid enjoyment from it.

It was impossible for him to keep out of his mind, however, the fact that he was now supposed to be at Marley with Scott Bowman. He had come away without leaving behind him the note he had at first planned to write.

"You must come to Yale sure, Reggie," Harrington told him. "Can't you get ready to enter next fall? I'll be a junior then, and can look out for you, you know."

"I wish I could," returned Rex, rather more soberly than the nature of the subject seemed to warrant.

He was thinking that it would be so much pleasanter to go to New Haven legitimately than in his present stolen fashion.

When they arrived at New York, Harrington said he would go at once to the hotel where he was to meet some of "the boys." Rex wondered whether they were going to stop at this hotel over night, and if to, how much it would cost. But he decided he would not ask, but wait and find out.

It was nearly eight when Harrington sent up his card to J. Ashley Stout in one of the plainer looking hotels on upper Broadway. Word came back that Mr. Stout was in his room on the fifth floor and would be glad to have Mr. Harrington come up.

"Come on, Reggie," said the Philadelphian.

Rex was not sure whether he liked Harrington to call him Reggie.

Sometimes it seemed to place him on a more familiar footing with the collegian, and at other times he had a suspicion that the name was employed merely to recall to the younger the fact of the difference in their ages.

Mr. Stout proved to be a young man with a red face, a very unpleasant complexion, and an abnormally weak voice. He had neither coat, vest nor collar on, and his eyes looked as if the bell boy's knock had awakened him from a sound sleep.

"Glad to see you, Harri, old boy," he said, shaking Harrington vigorously by the hand. "Excuse appearances. Was just taking a snooze to prepare for the evening."

"No apologies, Jack. Let me introduce my friend, Reginald Pell. He's a neighbor of mine at home. He's going up to Yale with me to see if he likes it well enough to be one of us next year."