The Telegraph Boy. Alger Horatio Jr.Читать онлайн книгу.
Frank found it. Then Mills indicated a desire to go home, and they went back to the room in the old tenement-house. Mills threw himself down on the bed in the corner, and heaved a sigh of relief.
"Now, boy, count the money we have collected," he said.
"There's ninety-three cents," Frank announced.
"If I had known it was so near a dollar we would have stayed a little longer. Now, get me my pipe."
"Where is it, sir?"
"In the cupboard. Fill it with tobacco, and light it."
"Are you not afraid of setting the bedding on fire, sir?"
"Mind your own business. If I choose to set it on fire, I will," snarled Mills.
"Very well, sir; I thought I'd mention it."
"You have mentioned it, and you needn't do it again."
"What a sweet temper you've got!" thought Frank.
He sat down on a broken chair, and, having nothing else to do, watched his employer. "He looks very much as if he could see," thought Frank; for Mills now had his eyes wide open.
"What are you staring at me for, boy?" demanded his employer, rather unexpectedly.
"What makes you think I am staring at you, sir?" was Frank's natural question. "I thought you couldn't see."
"No more I can, but I can tell when one is staring at me. It makes me creep all over."
"Then I'll look somewhere else."
"Would you like to do some work, as you said?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then take twenty-five cents, and buy some evening papers and sell them; but mind you bring the money to me."
"Yes, sir," said Frank, with alacrity.
Anything he thought would be better than sitting in that dull room with so disagreeable a companion.
"Mind you don't run off with the money," said the blind man, sharply. "If you do I'll have you put in the Tombs."
"I don't mean to run away with the money," retorted Frank, indignantly.
"And when you've sold the papers, come home."
"Yes, sir."
With a feeling of relief, Frank descended the stairs and directed his steps to the Park, meaning to ask Dick Rafferty's advice about the proper way to start in business as a newsboy.
CHAPTER V.
FRANK THROWS UP HIS SITUATION
Frank found his friend on Park Row, and made known his errand.
"So old Mills wants you to sell papers for his benefit, does he?"
"Yes, but I'd rather do it than to stay with him."
"How much has he agreed to pay you?"
"That isn't settled yet."
"You'd better bring him to the point, or he won't pay you anything except board and lodging, and mighty mean both of them will be."
"I won't say anything about it the first day," said Frank. "What papers shall I buy?"
"It's rather late. You'd better try for Telegrams."
Frank did so, and succeeded in selling half a dozen, yielding a profit of six cents. It was not a brilliant beginning, but he was late in the field, and most had purchased their evening papers. His papers sold, Frank went home and announced the result.
"Umph!" muttered the blind man. "Give me the money."
"Here it is, sir."
"Have you given me all?" sharply demanded Mills.
"Of course I have," said Frank, indignantly.
"Don't you be impudent, or I will give you a flogging," said the blind man, roughly.
"I am not used to be talked to in that way," said Frank, independently.
"You've always had your own way, I suppose," snarled Mills.
"No, I haven't; but I have been treated kindly."
"You are only a boy, and I won't allow you to talk back to me. Do you hear?"
"Yes."
"Then take care to remember."
"You've got a sweet disposition," thought Frank. "I won't stay with you any longer than I am obliged to."
Several days passed without bringing any incidents worth recording. Frank took a daily walk with the blind man, sometimes in the morning, sometimes in the afternoon. These walks were very distasteful to him. The companion of a beggar, he felt as if he himself were begging. He liked better the time he spent in selling papers, though he reaped no benefit himself. In fact, his wages were poor enough. Thus far his fare had consisted of dry bread with an occasional bun. He was a healthy, vigorous boy, and he felt the need of meat, or some other hearty food, and ventured to intimate as much to his employer.
"So you want meat, do you?" snarled Mills.
"Yes, sir; I haven't tasted any for a week."
"Perhaps you'd like to take your meals at Delmonico's?" sneered the blind man.
Frank was so new to the city that this well-known name did not convey any special idea to him, and he answered "Yes."
"That's what I thought!" exclaimed Mills, angrily. "You want to eat me out of house and home."
"No, I don't; I only want enough food to keep up my strength."
"Well, you are getting it. I give you all I can afford."
Frank was inclined to doubt this. He estimated that what he ate did not cost his employer over six or eight cents a day, and he generally earned for him twenty to thirty cents on the sale of papers, besides helping him to collect about a dollar daily from those who pitied his blindness.
He mentioned his grievance to his friend, Dick Rafferty.
"I'll tell you what to do," said Dick.
"I wish you would."
"Keep some of the money you make by selling papers, and buy a square meal at an eatin' house."
"I don't like to do that; it wouldn't be honest."
"Why wouldn't it?"
"I am carrying on the business for Mr. Mills. He supplies the capital."
"Then you'd better carry it on for yourself."
"I wish I could."
"Why don't you?"
"I haven't any money."
"Has he paid you any wages?"
"No."
"Then make him."
Frank thought this a good suggestion. He had been with Mills a week, and it seemed fair enough that he should receive some pay besides a wretched bed and a little dry bread. Accordingly, returning to the room, he broached the subject.
"What do you want wages for?" demanded Mills, displeased.
"I think I earn them," said Frank, boldly.
"You get board and lodging. You are better off than a good many boys."
"I shall want some clothes, some time," said Frank.
"Perhaps you'd like to have me pay you a dollar a day," said Mills.
"I know you can't afford to pay me that. I will be satisfied if you will pay me ten cents a day," replied Frank.
Frank reflected that, though this was a very small sum, in ten days it would give him a dollar, and then he would feel justified in setting up a business on his own account, as a newsboy. He anxiously awaited an answer.
"I will think of it," said the blind man evasively, and Frank did not venture to say more.
The next day, when Mills, led by Frank, was on his round, the two entered a cigar-store. Frank was much surprised when the cigar-vender handed him a fifty-cent currency note. He thought