Rupert's Ambition

"So soon as that?"

"Yes; I have received news from my agent there—good news, mind—that makes it advisable for me to abridge my visit. May I hope that you will write me sometimes?"

"I shall be glad to do so, Mr. Packard."

"Mind, it is a compact. Some time I expect you to visit me out there."

"When my child gets a little older," said Rupert, with a smile.

"And if at any time you find the expense too great for your means, let me help you."

"I will."

So the two friends parted, and Rupert resumed his regular routine as a bell-boy.

CHAPTER XXI.

RUPERT BECOMES A CONFIDANT

Some three months later Rupert's attention was called to a boy of seventeen or thereabouts, with long black hair and a high forehead, who registered as a guest, and took one of the cheapest rooms in the hotel. The boy seemed to have no companion, and to know very little about the city.

"Can you direct me to Palmer's Theatre?" he asked, rather diffidently.

"It is on Broadway, corner of Thirtieth Street," answered Rupert.

"And Daly's?"

"That is nearly opposite, on the other side of Broadway."

The boy took out a memorandum-book and noted down these addresses.

"What can he want at those theatres?" thought Rupert.

Of course he might want to buy a reserved seat in advance, but Rupert did not think it likely.

After getting his information the boy went out (it was about ten o'clock), and did not reappear till four o'clock in the afternoon. Rupert noticed him as he entered the hotel, and observed that he looked anxious and despondent. He did not go upstairs at once, but sank into a chair near Rupert, and apparently gave way to sorrowful reflections.

"He has some secret trouble," thought the bell-boy. "If he would speak to me I might be able to comfort him."

On the impulse of the moment he went up to the young guest, and asked, in a low tone of sympathy,

"Are you in any trouble?"

The boy started, flushed, and looked at Rupert half suspiciously. But there was something so friendly and sympathetic in Rupert's face that he was assured of his being a safe confidant.

"Yes," he said, "I am in trouble."

"If you will tell me, perhaps I can help you."

The boy looked about him hesitatingly.

"I shouldn't like to tell you here," he answered. "There are too many people round."

"I shall be at leisure after six o'clock. Will that do?"

"Yes. Could you come up to my room?"

"I will come with pleasure."

"I want a confidant. I want advice. You are younger than I am—at least you look so—but you have lived in the city while I am from the country."

"At any rate I will give you the best advice I can."

"Thank you. I feel better for having found a friend. I will go and take a walk, and you will find me here at six o'clock."

When Rupert got through work he found the boy waiting for him in the same place.

"I can go upstairs with you now."

"All right!" said the young guest, rising from his seat quickly. "We will take the elevator, for my room is on the top floor."

"In business hours," said Rupert, "I am not allowed to use the elevator. Now I am no longer a bell-boy, but your visitor."

The room was a small hall bedroom. It was one that was let for seventy-five cents a day, while the better and larger rooms ranged upwards to a dollar and a half. The room contained one chair only.

"Please take a seat," said the young host.

"But where will you sit?"

"I will sit on the bed. I don't know but you will laugh at me," he went on, "when I tell you what brought me to New York."

"Oh, no. I shall not laugh at you. But first, as we are to be friends, let me tell you my name and ask yours. I am Rupert Rollins."

"That is a nice name. It sounds like a story name. Mine is Leslie Waters."

"Where do you live?"'

"I was born and brought up in Rahway. That is in New Jersey, about twenty miles from New York. My father lives about a mile from the village. He has a small farm."

"And you were brought up to work on the farm?"

"Well, it isn't exactly a farm, but we raise vegetables and fruits for the New York market. I went to school till a year ago. Then I graduated, and since then I have worked for my father."

"Did you like it?"

"No, I don't like working on land. I feel," continued Leslie, flushing, "that I was born for something better and nobler. Besides, I don't want to live in the country. I prefer the city. There's something going on here."

"Yes, that is true."

"And I wanted to be in the excitement. I'd rather live half as long in the city. You can live more here in a year than in the country in two years."

"Was there any particular thing that you wished to do?"

"Yes, I am coming to that. When I attended school there was one exercise that many of the boys did not like, but I did. I liked to declaim. I began with such pieces as 'Casabianca'—you know that, don't you?"

"Oh, yes," said Rupert, smiling. "I have spoken it more than once myself."

"But of course I got beyond that after a while. I used to speak pieces from Shakespeare and other dramatic authors. There was one I liked to speak in particular. It begins:

"The warrior bowed his crested head and tamed his heart of fire,And sued the haughty king to free his long-imprisoned sire."

"Yes, I know the poem."

"I got a prize for speaking it at one of our closing examinations," said Leslie, proudly. "Would you like to have me speak it for you now?"

"I afraid it would attract attention in some of the neighboring rooms, as it is a spirited piece."

Leslie looked disappointed but continued. "Then I have spoken 'Young Lochinvar' also—I liked that."

"Did you never speak any prose pieces?"

"No, I didn't care for prose. I like poetry best. I wish we were alone, so I could speak something for you."

"We will go on an excursion some Sunday—say to Weehawken—and then I shall have a chance to hear you."

"I am afraid I shall not be able to stay in the city," said Leslie, gloomily. "I have met nothing but disappointment since I came here."

CHAPTER XXII.

TRYING TO BE AN ACTOR

"Have you inquired for work?" asked Rupert.

"Yes."

"What kind of work?"

"I wanted to be an actor. So I applied at Palmer's Theatre and Daly's this forenoon, and this afternoon I went to others."

"How were you received?" asked Rupert, in considerable curiosity.

"They wouldn't talk with me," answered Leslie, indignantly. "One of the managers laughed at me when I asked if he would let me speak a piece, so that he might judge of my ability."

"Perhaps they had no vacancy," suggested Rupert, trying to keep his countenance.

"They asked me if I had ever acted. Of course I can't till I get the chance. I told him I would be willing to work for five dollars a week till I got some experience. I told them they might try me in small parts. One of them asked me if I had ever played Hamlet. He must have been in fun."

"I should think so."

"Of course great actors like Booth must have served an apprenticeship. I was reading an account of Booth's early life lately, and he began just as I want to begin."

"I expect the profession must be crowded. There was an actor staying at the hotel last week. He is out of employment, and I think he must be out of funds, for he got me to go out and pawn an overcoat for him."

"I am sure I could succeed if I only had a show," continued Leslie. "You don't happen to know any manager, do you?"

"No. Perhaps you would stand a better chance of getting into a variety theatre. Can you sing or dance?"

"No; I should not be willing to. I don't think Booth ever did, or Irving, or Forrest."

"No. I don't think they did."

"And I'll get some time to be a famous actor, so I wouldn't like to have it mentioned in my biographies that I ever played in a variety theatre."

"Are you going to make any more applications, Leslie?"

"I shall apply to every manager in the city," answered Leslie, energetically.

"I like your pluck. You deserve to succeed."

"Didn't you ever think of being an actor?"

"No; I don't think I have any talent for it."

"Don't you like to speak pieces?"

"Pretty well, but I like to write compositions better. How long do you expect to stay in the city?"

"Well, I'll tell you how I am situated. I had twelve dollars in a savings bank in Newark, and I took it out without letting my father know. I was sure he wouldn't approve it, especially if he thought I was trying to go on the stage. You see he doesn't approve of theatres. It is very strange, considering that the greatest man that ever lived was an actor and dramatic author."

"You mean Shakespeare?"

"Yes. However, father is old-fashioned in his ideas. I should like to become a great actor, and make piles of money. Then he might be proud of me."

Leslie's face flushed and his voice trembled, he was so carried away by the thought of becoming a dramatic star.

"You said you had twelve dollars?" remarked Rupert, by way of bringing him back to solid ground.

"Yes; but I have spent four dollars, though I have tried to be economical. I pay seventy-five cents a day for my room, and that counts up."

"Yes, so it does. If you were going to stop long in the city I think I could get a room for you at two dollars a week."

"I should like that, but I can't pay even that if I don't get something to do."

"In that case I suppose you would go home."

"I should have to. I suppose my father is very angry at me."

"Did you leave home without letting him know?"

"Yes; I knew he wouldn't let me come if he knew my plans."

"Didn't you leave a note for him?"

"Yes. I'll tell you what I wrote. I have a copy of it here."

Leslie drew from his pocket a half sheet of note paper, and read aloud the following words:

"Dear Father—

"When you read these words I shall be far from home. I suppose I ought not to go, but I am tired of the country, and I want to win fame and fortune. I have a plan in view which I have considered for years. I won't tell you what it is now, for though strictly honorable, you might not approve it. I think I understand myself better than you do, though you are my father. I will let you hear from me soon. Your son,

Leslie Waters."

"Of course you don't know how this was received by your father?"

"I met a boy from Rahway this morning. He told me that father was mad, and said he washed his hands of me, that I was a fool, and would very soon find it out."

"Then you don't think he will pursue you?"

"No, he isn't that kind of a man."

"It will be rather awkward for you to go home."

"Yes. I wouldn't like to do that."

"Suppose you don't get a chance to go on the stage, would you be willing to take a business place?"

"Yes, I would rather do that than go home. Here I should be in the midst of life, and if I bided my time I might get a chance to go on the stage after all."

"That is true. Now I will tell you why I asked. One of the bell-boys here is going to leave. I might get the position for you."

"You are a bell-boy, are you not?"

"Yes."

"How much do you get?"

"Five dollars a week and my meals. I have to hire a room outside."

"And you say I can get a room for two dollars a week?"

"Yes. Perhaps for a dollar and a half."

"Then I could get along."

"You might not like the duties of a bell-boy."

"What are they?"

Rupert explained.

"How early should I get off at night?"

"At six o'clock. The bell-boy who is about to leave is on through the day like myself."

"That would suit me. I could go to the theatre in the evening."

"True."

"If I don't get a chance to act to-day I will take the place if you can get it for me. It will be much better than going back to Rahway. Besides, my father will think better of me if he hears that I have found a place where I can make my expenses."

"Does he know that you have had thoughts of becoming an actor?"

"No; I never told him, but my mother knows it."

"What does she say to it?"

"She thinks I am smart enough to succeed, but fears I might get into bad company."

"There is danger of that."

"Not for me. I don't care for drinking, and I belong to the temperance society."

"So do I."

"When a boy is ambitious to be great I don't think he is likely to get dissipated."

"Perhaps you are right. One thing I must say to you, Leslie. If you take the place of bell-boy you must try to give satisfaction."

"I will, for it will keep me in the city. In Rahway there is no chance of my rising in life."

Rupert foresaw that there was very little chance of his new friend getting a position in any theatre, and he spoke at once to the manager of the hotel about giving a place as bell-boy to Leslie.

"Is he a friend of yours, Rupert?" asked the manager.

"Yes, sir."

"Have you known him long?"

"Not long enough to be sure that he will be satisfactory. Still you might be willing to take him on trial."

"I will try him for a week. If at the end of that time he suits me moderately well I will retain him."

"I will coach him a little and instruct him in his duties."

"That will help."

In the evening Leslie came home just before Rupert got through his day's work. He did not look as if he had succeeded. Still he was not as sober as the day before.

"Well?" said Rupert. "What luck?"

"I don't get a place. In some of the theatres they did not treat me respectfully, though one manager admitted that he went on the stage earlier than I did."

"Where was that?"

"In Brooklyn."

"Then I suppose you will be ready to accept the place of bell-boy?"

"Yes; but if a chance should come of my going on the stage I should want to resign it."

"You had better not say anything about that. Wait till the chance comes."

"I have one piece of good news," said Leslie, more cheerfully. "In two weeks a spectacular piece will be put on the stage at Niblo's, and they have promised me a place as supe."

"How much will you be paid?"

"Only twenty-five cents a night, but it will be a beginning. I shall have a place behind the footlights. More than one actor has made his start in that way."

"I am glad for you. I will go and see you when you make your first appearance."

CHAPTER XXIII.

A BAFFLED SCHEME

Both Julian Lorimer and his father felt mortified at the failure of their attempt to humiliate Mr. Benton. They had supposed he had neither friends nor influence and were very much surprised at his securing another position elsewhere at an advanced salary. They tried to find out where he was now employed, but without success. Julian inquired of Rupert one day when he met him, but the bell-boy refused to tell.

"Oh, it's a secret, is it?" sneered Julian.

"Yes, to you," answered Rupert. "Why did you wish to know?"

Rupert was confident that Julian meant mischief, and in the interest of Mr. Benton he declined to give him any information.

Of course this made Julian all the more anxious to gain his point. He got in the way of visiting every dry-goods store, and scanning the clerks and salesmen. But there are a good many such stores in New York, and it was some time before he made any discovery.

One day, however, he strayed into Grand Street, and entered a large store in quest of some cheap neckties which he saw exposed outside. Julian was rather a dude, and these ties had attracted his notice.

As he was passing through the store without any special thought of his father's old clerk, he chanced to pass by the counter where dress goods were sold. His face lighted up with malicious joy when he saw Benton measuring off a dress pattern for a lady. He stopped until the salesman was at leisure. Then, stepping up to the counter, he said, "Good morning, Mr. Benton."

Benton certainly was not pleased to see his old persecutor. Perhaps his countenance expressed his feelings as he answered, "Good morning, Julian."

"So it is here you are employed?"

"Yes, as you see."

"Did you come here directly from pa's store?"

"Yes. How did you find out that I was here?"

"I didn't find out till just now."

"Can I do anything for you? Do you wish to buy anything in my line?"

"No. I came in for some neckties. Do you ever see anything of Rupert Rollins?"

"Yes, he has a room at my house."

"Oho, I didn't know that. That accounts for his interest in you."

"I am glad he has an interest in me. He is a very good friend of mine."

"A poor boy like him isn't much of a friend. He can't do much for you."

"He got me this position."

"Did he?" said Julian, in some surprise.

"Yes."

Benton might have told Julian that Rupert owned two valuable lots in Harlem, but he thought it more proper that Rupert himself should make it known whenever he saw fit.

"Well, so long. I may see you again before long."

"I am not in the least desirous of it," thought Benton, but he answered civilly.

"Well, pa," said Julian, at dinner, "I saw your old clerk, Benton, to-day."

"Did you, indeed," said Mr. Lorimer, interested. "Is he out of work?"

"No; he's employed in a Grand Street store."

"Did you speak to him?"

"Yes."

"How did he appear?"

"He was better dressed than when he worked for you."

"I mean was he cordial?"

"Not very. I don't think he was very glad to see me. Good reason why."

"I wonder whether he is well paid?"

"I didn't ask him, for I knew he wouldn't tell me if I did. I have no doubt he gets a good deal more than what you paid him."

"They must have taken him without a recommendation," mused Lorimer.

"You wouldn't give him a recommendation, would you?"

"No, I should have to say that he was insubordinate and gave me trouble."

Julian Lorimer could be depended upon to act meanly and maliciously, without any scruples of conscience. Two days later Mr. Benton was summoned to the superintendent's room.

"You wished to see me, sir?" he said.

"Yes. I wish to show you a letter which the firm has received."

Henry Benton took the proffered letter, and read with what feelings can be imagined the following communication:

"Gentlemen—

"In visiting your store yesterday I saw a Mr. Benton behind the dress goods counter who used to work in our, that is, my father's store. I was surprised that you should employ him. He brought no recommendation from us, or if he presented one it was forged. My father found him unsatisfactory, and was quite glad to get rid of him. He is a poor man, and I don't want to injure him, but I thought it only right that I should tell you what my father thinks of him. He would not tell us where he was going, and it was only by chance that I found out.

Yours truly, "Julian Lorimer."

"Well, Mr. Wilson, I have read the letter," said Benton. "Is there anything you would like to ask me in reference to it?"

"Is the writer correct in his statements?"

"So far from it that his father asked me to stay longer, and offered me an additional dollar a week."

"Did you have any trouble when in Mr. Lorimer's store?"

"Yes; this boy Julian, who has nothing to do with the business, interfered with my work and was very insolent. I rebuked him and he succeeded in getting his father to discharge me. Afterward his father revoked the dismissal and wished me to stay. But I had already a situation offered me here, and I declined. I hope this letter will not prejudice you against me."

"By no means. Even without your explanation I understood pretty well the character of the writer of the note."

"Shall you answer it?"

"Yes; I have a curiosity to see the boy."

Julian Lorimer smiled with satisfaction when he received a letter inviting him to call at the Grand Street store.

"Things are working as I desired," he said to himself. "I think, Mr. Benton, your career will be brief, and you will soon be looking for another position."

He entered the store about ten o'clock, and took good care to walk by the counter behind which Mr. Benton was employed. The latter saw him, but after his interview with the superintendent he did not feel anxious.

"I am Julian Lorimer," announced Julian, as he entered the presence of the superintendent.

"You wrote us a letter, I believe?"

"Yes, sir."

"In relation to a clerk in our employ?"

"Yes. Mr. Benton."

"He used to work for your father?"

"Yes, sir. He was in father's employ rather more than a year."

"He stayed some time, then?"

"Yes; father didn't want to discharge him as he had a family."

"Very considerate on your father's part, certainly," said Mr. Wilson, in a peculiar tone, in which Julian did not detect the sarcasm.

"On the whole, your father did not find him satisfactory? What was the matter? Isn't he a good salesman?"

"Pretty fair," answered Julian. "Nothing alarming."

"Then what fault did he find with him? I suppose he was honest?"

"Yes, so far as we know."

"And still your father found him unsatisfactory. There must have been some cause of complaint?"

"He was impudent," said Julian. "He felt too large for his position."

"Was he impudent to your father?"

"No."

"To whom, then?"

"To me."

"Oh, to you. Were you employed in the store?"

"No, sir."

"Then I don't see how you could have come in contact with him."

"I used to go into the store sometimes. That was very natural, as it was my father's store."

"And on one of these occasions he was impudent to you?"

"Yes, sir."

"This is a serious charge. What would you advise me to do? Do you think I ought to discharge him?"

"I will only say this, that my father would not have him in the store."

"You said in your letter that you did not wish to injure him. If he should be discharged that would certainly be an injury."

"Yes, sir, I suppose so," answered Julian, with hesitation.

He was puzzled and could not understand what Mr. Wilson was driving at.

"I will send for Mr. Benton."

When Benton came into the presence of the superintendent, Mr. Wilson said,

"Mr. Benton, this boy, Mr. Julian Lorimer, has been bringing charges against you."

"I am not surprised to hear it, sir."

"He says you did not treat him respectfully when you were in his father's store; that, in short, you were impudent to him."

"There is some truth in my not treating him respectfully. He came up to my counter and interfered with my work."

"You were aware that he was Mr. Lorimer's son?"

"Oh, yes, sir."

"And yet you rebuked or snubbed him?"

"Yes, sir."

"He thinks that a serious matter. He thinks I ought to discharge you. My own feeling is that you treated him just right."

Julian looked paralyzed.

"And to make up to you for his malicious attempt to injure you, I will raise your salary two dollars a week."

"Thank you, sir."

"As for you, young man, I don't wish to see you in the store again. James, you may show Mr. Lorimer out."

Julian lost no time in getting out of the place. He had never felt so humiliated before. It would be hard to describe his blended rage and mortification. It was certainly aggravating to reflect that he had only succeeded in raising Mr. Benton's salary.

CHAPTER XXIV.

LESLIE'S PROGRESS

Leslie Waters obtained the situation of bell-boy through Rupert's recommendation, and entered upon his duties at once. He had failed in his ambition to become an actor. With his elevated ideas of the position of a member of the profession, he did not immediately become reconciled to figuring as a bell-boy, but it enabled him to live in the great city, which became daily more and more attractive to him.

Rupert engaged for him a small hall bedroom in the same house in which he was himself living. The price agreed upon was only a dollar and a half weekly, which, with his salary, he could pay without inconvenience.

Rupert was afraid that Leslie would prove too flighty and impracticable for his humble duties, but was agreeably disappointed. Accustomed to work on a farm in a quiet country town, Leslie found hotel life very attractive, and labored zealously to give satisfaction. The day after he went to work he wrote to his father in Rahway as follows: