Dan, The Newsboy. Alger Horatio Jr.Читать онлайн книгу.
don't break the table, Grab," said Dan.
"Oh, blast the table!" said Grab, surveying his red knuckles.
"We haven't got any blasting powder, and I don't think it would be a very interesting experiment. It might blow you up, for you are nearest to it."
"Have done with this trifling, boy," said the landlord.
"I am afraid you got out of the wrong end of the bed this morning, Mr. Grab. You should control yourself."
"Look here, boy," said the landlord, savagely, "do you know what I am tempted to do?"
"No, what is it?" asked Dan, indifferently.
"I am strongly tempted to chastise you for your impudence."
Dan looked critically at the small, thin form, and secretly decided that Mr. Grab would find it difficult to carry out his threat.
"Oh, how you frighten me!" he said. "I don't believe I shall sleep any to-night."
Mr. Grab made a motion to pound on the table again, but he looked at his red knuckles and wisely forbore.
"I can't waste any more time," he said. "You must pay your rent, or turn out. I want six dollars."
"Won't it do, Mr. Grab, if we pay you next week?"
"No, it won't. The rent must be paid to-day, or out you go."
"Why doesn't Dan pay him?" thought Mrs. Mordaunt, uneasily. "Really, he ought not to tease the poor man so. He has such a bad temper, he might hurt Dan."
"Mr. Gripp is owing mother for work. As soon as he pays her, I will call round at your office and pay you."
"It won't do," said Grab. "I won't let you stay here another night, and I mean to have security for my money, too."
So saying, the landlord seized the bundle of vests which lay on the table beside him.
This aroused Dan to action.
He sprang to his feet, his eyes flashing with anger.
"Put down that bundle, Mr. Grab!" he exclaimed.
"Then pay me my rent," said the landlord, recoiling a little.
"Put down that bundle before you say another word about rent. It isn't my mother's or mine. You have no business with it."
"What do you mean, boy, by your impudence?" demanded the landlord, a little uneasily.
"I mean that if you take that bundle from the room, I shall put you in charge of the nearest policeman on a charge of stealing."
"That is nonsense," said Grab; but he looked nervous, and laid down the bundle.
"All right, Grab," said Dan. "Now, as I don't want any more of your company, I'll pay the rent, if you'll give me a receipt."
"Have you got the money?" asked Grab, astonished.
"Of course I have. I never told you I hadn't."
"You made me think so."
"It isn't my business what you think. There, that is settled, and now, Mr. Grab, I have the honor of wishing you good-evening. I hope you won't hurt your knuckles again."
Mr. Grab left the room, inwardly wishing that he could wring Dan's neck.
"Oh, Dan, how could you?" asked his mother, reproachfully, as she re-entered the room.
"He deserves it all," said Dan. "Didn't he turn out the poor Donovans on a cold day last winter? I have no pity for him."
"He may turn us out."
"Not as long as we pay the rent."
CHAPTER VII.
MR. GRIPP IS WORSTED
Punctually at three o'clock Dan knocked at the door of Mr. Grant's room in the Astor House.
That gentleman looked at his watch as he admitted our hero.
"You are punctual to the minute," he said. "Your watch keeps excellent time."
"I'll tell you why," answered Dan, smiling. "I always keep it at Tiffany's. I don't dare to carry it for fear it will get out of order."
"You ought to have a watch," said Mr. Grant. "That will come in time."
"I hope so," said Dan. "Then I could be sure to keep my business appointments. Now I have to depend on the City Hall clock. I'd rather look at it than carry it round."
"Well, Dan, do you think Mr. Gripp is prepared to receive us?"
"He'll be glad to see you. He'll think you are going to buy some clothes. I don't think he'll be very happy to see me."
"He must see us both, or neither. Has he any good clothes?"
"Yes, sir—good enough for me. I don't think you would like to patronize his establishment."
"By the way, Dan, you have given me an order for money, and I have not handed you the equivalent."
"You may not get the money, sir."
"I will make the effort at any rate. By the way, Dan, that coat of yours is getting shabby."
"It is the best I have, sir. Boys in my business don't have to dress much."
"That gives me an idea. Please hand me my hat, and we will start."
The two left the Astor House together. One or two of Dan's associates whom they encountered on the way, were surprised to see him walking on terms of apparent friendly companionship with a well-to-do stranger, but decided that Dan was probably acting as his guide.
They found Mr. Gripp standing as usual in the door-way of his shop watching for customers. He did not at first observe Dan, but his attention was drawn to Mr. Grant.
"Walk in, sir," he said, obsequiously. "You will find what you want here. Styles fashionable, and as for prices—we defy competition."
Alexander Grant paused, and looked critically about him. He understood very well the sort of establishment he was about to enter, and would not have thought of doing so but in Dan's interests.
He stepped over the threshold, and Dan was about to follow, when the eagle eye of Mr. Gripp recognized our hero.
"Clear out, you young rascal!" he exclaimed. "Don't you come round here any more."
Dan did not answer, for he knew Mr. Grant would do so for him.
Mr. Grant turned back, and said, quietly:
"To whom are you speaking, sir?"
"I beg your pardon, sir—it's that boy."
"Then, sir, you will oblige me by stopping at once. That boy is in my company and under my protection."
Nathan Gripp stared as if transfixed.
"Do you know him, sir?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"You are mistaken in him, sir. He's an artful young rascal. He was here yesterday, and acted outrageously. He assaulted my clerk and insulted me."
"I have nothing to do with that. He is in my company, and if I enter the store he will."
"Oh, of course, if he's with you he can come in. Samuel, show the gentleman what he wants."
Dan smiled, and nothing but a sense of his own interest prevented Mr. Gripp from objecting to his entrance.
"What will I show you, sir?" asked the callow young man named Samuel, glaring at Dan in vivid remembrance of the blow which had doubled him up.
"Have you any coats and vests that will fit this young gentleman?"
"Young gentleman!" repeated Samuel, mechanically, glancing at Dan in silent hatred.
"That means me, Samuel," said Dan, mischievously. "Samuel is an old friend of mine, Mr. Grant."
"I think we can fit him," said Samuel, by no means relishing the task of waiting upon his young opponent. "Take off your coat, young feller."
"Don't be too familiar, Samuel. You may call me Mr. Mordaunt," said Dan.
"I'll