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Horatio Alger Jr.

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Herausgeber: Publisher s11838
Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
Sprache: Englisch
Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

The Young Salesman written by Horatio Alger Jr. who was a prolific 19th-century American writer, best known for his many young adult novels. This book was published in 1896. And now republish in ebook format. We believe this work is culturally important in its original archival form. While we strive to adequately clean and digitally enhance the original work, there are occasionally instances where imperfections such as missing pages, poor pictures or errant marks may have been introduced due to either the quality of the original work. Despite these occasional imperfections, we have brought it back into print as part of our ongoing global book preservation commitment, providing customers with access to the best possible historical reprints. We appreciate your understanding of these occasional imperfections, and sincerely hope you enjoy reading this book.

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BESTSELLER

Funny Story (Ungekürzte Lesung)

The Young Salesman

Horatio Alger Jr.

CHAPTER I. ON BOARD THE "ARCTURUS."

CHAPTER II. THE FIRST DAY IN NEW YORK.

CHAPTER III. SCOTT LEARNS A LESSON.

CHAPTER IV. TRACKING THE THIEF.

CHAPTER V. AN UNPLEASANT SURPRISE.

CHAPTER VI. SCOTT FINDS A RELATIVE AND A PLACE.

CHAPTER VII. AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.

CHAPTER VIII. SCOTT RECOVERS PART OF HIS MONEY.

CHAPTER IX. BUSINESS EXPERIENCE.

CHAPTER X. SETH LAWTON.

CHAPTER XI. SCOTT CALLS ON HIS POOR RELATION.

CHAPTER XII. THE SECOND-HAND SUIT.

CHAPTER XIII. A CASH BOY'S TROUBLES.

CHAPTER XIV. A HELPING HAND.

CHAPTER XV. THE CASH BOY'S PROMOTION.

CHAPTER XVI. LOAMMI'S TEMPTATION.

CHAPTER XVII. SUSPICION FALLS UPON SCOTT.

CHAPTER XVIII. TRAPPED.

CHAPTER XIX. A NEW HOME.

CHAPTER XX. SCOTT IS VINDICATED.

CHAPTER XXI. A NEW PLACE.

CHAPTER XXII. THE POOR INVENTOR.

CHAPTER XXIII. EZRA LITTLE'S DISAPPOINTMENT.

CHAPTER XXIV. LOAMMI HEARS GOOD NEWS.

CHAPTER XXV. AT NIAGARA FALLS.

CHAPTER XXVI. AN ADVENTURE.

CHAPTER XXVII. RED RALPH.

CHAPTER XXVIII. ON WATCH.

CHAPTER XXIX. A PLOT FOILED.

CHAPTER XXX. RED RALPH'S SURPRISE.

CHAPTER XXXI. AN UNEXPECTED MEETING.

CHAPTER XXXII. A LARGE OPERATION.

CHAPTER XXXIII. SCOTT GETS INTO SOCIETY.

CHAPTER XXXIV. MR. BABCOCK'S INVENTION.

CHAPTER XXXV. THE SEALED PACKET.

CHAPTER XXXVI. A TIMELY HELPER.

CHAPTER XXXVII. CONCLUSION.

CHAPTER I. ON BOARD THE "ARCTURUS."

Halfway across the Atlantic the good ship Arcturus was making her way from Liverpool to New York. She was a sailing vessel, and her speed by no means equaled that of the mighty steamships, more than one of which passed her, leaving her far behind.

While she was used chiefly for freight, she carried a few passengers, less than twenty in all.

I wish to call the reader's attention to the occupants of one of the small staterooms, a man and a boy. There was a great contrast between them. The man was thin and hollow-cheeked, and as he lay in his berth he looked to be, as he was, in the last stages of consumption.

The boy, who must have been nearly sixteen, was the picture of health. He was inclined to be dark, with black hair, bright eyes, and with considerable color in his cheeks.

He bent over the reclining figure, and asked, with anxious solicitude: "How do you feel, father?"

"No better, Scott," and the father began to cough.

"Does it hurt you to cough?"

"Yes, but it won't trouble me long."

"You will be better?" said the boy, half inquiringly.

"No, Scott, I shall never be better. I am very near the end."

"You don't mean that?" exclaimed the boy, in pained surprise.

"Yes, I do, Scott, and you may as well know it. I doubt whether I shall live to see New York."

Scott Walton looked dismayed, for till now he had not suspected that his father's life was in danger. Yet, as he gazed at the fragile form, he was forced to believe that his father spoke truly.

"What will become of me," he said, with emotion, "alone in a strange land?"

"That is what I want to speak to you about." Here the man began to cough again.

"Don't talk, father. It makes you cough."

"I must, my son. Perhaps I may have no other chance. I am sorry that I must leave you almost penniless."

"I don't mind that, father. If you could only live——"

"Don't interrupt me, for there are some things I must tell you. You will find in my wallet twenty pounds in English bank notes, worth in America about one hundred dollars. This sum will support you while you are looking for a situation, for you will need to find work."

"I am strong and willing to work, father."

"Yes, you are strong. You don't take after me, but after your mother's family."

"Have you any relatives in America?"

"There is a cousin of your mother's in New York, Ezra Little. I believe he is well-to-do. I can't tell you what he is doing or where he lives, but you can look up his name in the New York directory."

"Is he the only relative we have in America?

"No, there is a cousin of my own, Philo Walton, who went out to one of the Western States. He was a good-hearted fellow, and likely to make his way, but I have heard nothing of him, and I don't know whether he is still living or not.

"There seems a very small chance of your finding him, in so large a country, but you can probably find Ezra Little. Take down these names, Scott. They may be of importance to you."

Scott drew out a small memorandum book, and did as directed.

"I would not have started from England, had I supposed I should have become worse so rapidly," continued Mr. Walton. "I think the sea air has aggravated my disease. There seemed nothing for us at home though, and no friends on whom we could call. I built my hopes on Ezra Little. I thought for your mother's sake he would help her boy. If I could live to see him, and commend him to you in person, I could die in peace."

He had hardly completed these words when he had a terrible fit of coughing, which seemed to rack his feeble frame.

"Don't talk any more, father!" said Scott, in alarm. "Can't I get you something to relieve you? I will go to the steward and ask for a cup of hot tea."

Without waiting for an answer he left the stateroom and sought the steward.

He was gone but ten minutes, but when he returned the bedclothes were stained with blood.

His father had had a hemorrhage, and was lying with closed eyes, breathing faintly.

The ship doctor was summoned, and applied restoratives, but without effect. Before the morning dawned, Scott was fatherless.

It was a great trial to the lonely boy to see his father's body consigned to the deep. He wished he might carry it to the land which was to be his future home, and have it buried in some quiet cemetery; but it would be a week at least before the slow-going ship would reach New York, and the sailors would have rebelled at having a corpse on board for that length of time.

Scott secured the money of which his father had spoken, and a sealed packet inscribed:

For My Son.To be opened a year from my death.

The boy's grief was so sincere that his curiosity was not aroused by this inscription. He put the packet in his traveling bag, and tried to prepare himself for the solitary life he must now lead.

There was a good deal of sympathy felt for the lonely boy on the ship, and more than one of the passengers proffered sympathy and companionship.

Scott received their advances politely, but showed by his manner that he preferred to be alone.

A week later, however, when the vessel was within a few hours of reaching her destination, he felt that it would be well to obtain some information about the new country that awaited him.

Among the passengers was a young man who looked to be about twenty-five. His name was Crawford Lane. He wore a light overcoat, a showy necktie, a low-cut vest, and was in appearance a very good specimen of the Bowery swell.

He joined Scott as he was standing on deck, trying to catch the first glimpse of land.

"Well, my young friend," he said, affably, "I suppose that you, like the rest of us, are glad to be near port."

"I don't know," replied Scott, listlessly.

"Of course you miss your father."

"Oh, so much!" said the boy, the tears coming into his eyes. "For years we have lived together and been constant companions."

"Just so! My father died five years ago, and I often miss him."

"But you doubtless have other relatives, while he was all I had," explained Scott.

"Yes, I have other relatives. An uncle of mine is the present mayor of Chicago. Of course, you have heard of Chicago."

"Yes; it is one of your largest cities, is it not?"

"Yes, it's a smart place, Chicago is."

"Do you live there?"

"Not at present. I have relations in New York also. They are rich; live on Fifth Avenue, or near by."

"You are fortunate in having so many relations," said Scott, with a touch of envy.

"I don't know. One of my uncles tried to cheat me out of part of my inheritance. Relations are not always the best friends."

"I hope he did not succeed," said Scott, politely, though he felt very little interest in the fortunes of his fellow voyager.

"No. That is, he defrauded me of ten thousand dollars, but there was a good deal more, so that I was not inconvenienced."

Lane spoke carelessly, and gave Scott the impression that he was a rich man.

"Then you have a home to go to," said Scott, sadly.

"No," answered Lane. "You see my father and mother are dead, and I live at the hotels or in apartments of my own. I don't care to live with relations. Have you any relations in New York?"

"None that I have seen. There is a cousin of my mother, Ezra Little, who I am told is well-to-do. But I never saw him, and I don't know how he will receive me."

"Then you will probably go to a hotel?"

"I suppose so, but I know nothing of New York."

"I hope," said Lane, in an insinuating tone, "that your father left you in easy circumstances?"

"No, I shall have to make my own way."

"Surely you have some money."

"Yes, I have twenty pounds. I am told that amounts to a hundred dollars in American currency."

"Yes," answered Lane, brightening up. "Well, that will tide you over till you get something to do. But probably your relative will provide for you."

"No," said Scott; "I shall not ask him to do so. I prefer to earn my own living."

"Just so. Well, I can be of some service to you. I will find you a reasonable place to stop, and when you get ready you can call on this Mr. Little."

"Thank you!"

Scott was disposed to accept the offer of his new acquaintance, as, of course, he himself knew absolutely nothing about New York.

CHAPTER II. THE FIRST DAY IN NEW YORK.

When the Arcturus arrived in port, Scott placed himself in charge of Mr. Lane, and accompanied that gentleman on shore. He congratulated himself on having a competent guide.

He was struck by the bright and bustling appearance of the great American metropolis, and, English though he was, he was fain to admit that it was more attractive than London.

Scott had but one gripsack, but in this respect Crawford Lane was no better off.

"I just took a brief trip across the water," he explained, "and I don't believe in being hampered with baggage."

"Then you were not gone long?" said Scott.

"No; I just ran across in company with an old college friend. He will be absent several months, but I could not spare the time from my business."

"Have you anything which a boy of my age could do in your office?" asked Scott, who felt that he must now be on the search for a place.

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Horatio Alger Jr.

Table of Contents

CHAPTER I. ON BOARD THE "ARCTURUS."

CHAPTER II. THE FIRST DAY IN NEW YORK.