Paul the Peddler

H >> Horatio Alger, Jr. >> Paul the Peddler


"Yes, I see him," said Mrs. Montgomery. "What of him?"

"I am going to recover the ring through his help."

"I don't see how."

"You will see."

"How do you do?" said the adventurer, cordially, advancing to the young
man, and seizing his hand.

"Pretty smart," said the countryman, looking surprised.

"Are your parents quite well?"

"They're so's to be around."

"When did you come to the city?"

"This mornin'."

"Do you stay any length of time?"

"I'm goin' back this afternoon."

"You didn't expect to meet me now, did you?" asked Mr. Montgomery.

"I s'pose I'd orter know you," said the perplexed youth, "but I can't
think what your name is."

"What! Not know Mr. Barnes, the minister of Hayfield Centre? Don't you
remember hearing me preach for your minister?"

"Seems to me I do," answered the young man, persuading himself that he
ought to remember.

"Of course you do. Now, my young friend, I am very glad to have met
you."

"So am I," said the other, awkwardly.

"You can do me a favor, if you will."

"Of course, I will," said Jonathan, "if it's anything I can do."

"Yes, you will have no trouble about it. You see, I went into a
jeweler's near by to sell a valuable ring, and they wanted to make sure
I was really a minister, and not intending to cheat them. If you will go
in with me, and say that you have often heard me preach, and that I am
the Rev. Mr. Barnes, of Hayfield Centre, I won't mind paying you five
dollars for your trouble."

"All right; I'll do it," said the rustic, considering that it would be
an unusually easy way of earning few dollars.

"You'll remember the name, won't you?"

"Yes--Parson Barnes, of Hayfield Centre."

"That is right. The store is near by. Walk along with us, and we will be
there in five minutes."



CHAPTER XXIII

A NEW EXPEDIENT

"I believe your name is Peck?" said Mr. Montgomery, hazarding a guess.

"No, it's Young, Ephraim Young."

"Of course it is. I remember now, but I am apt to forget names. You said
your parents were quite well?"

"Yes, they're pretty smart."

"I am glad to hear it; I have the pleasantest recollections of your
excellent father. Let me see, didn't you call there with me once, Mrs.
Barnes?"

"Not that I remember."

"You must go with me the next time. I want you to know the parents
of our young friend. They are excellent people. Do you go back this
afternoon, Mr. Young?"

"Yes, I guess so. You don't know of any sitooation I could get in a
store round here, do you?"

"Not at present, but I have some influential friends to whom I will
mention your name. Suppose, now, I could obtain a situation for you, how
shall I direct the letter letting you know?"

"Just put on the letter 'Ephraim Young.' Everybody in Plainfield knows
me."

"So he lives in Plainfield," said Mr. Montgomery to himself. "It's as
well to know that." Then aloud: "I won't forget, Mr. Young. What sort of
business would you prefer?"

"Any kind that'll pay," said the gratified youth, firmly convinced
of his companion's ability to fulfill his promise. "I've got tired of
stayin' round home, and I'd like to try York a little while. Folks say
it's easy to make money here."

"You are right. If I were a business man, I would come to New York at
once. For a smart young man like you it offers a much better opening
than a country village."

"That's what I've told dad often," said the rustic, "but he's afraid I
wouldn't get nothing to do and he says it's dreadful expensive livin'
here."

"So it is expensive, but then you will be better paid than in the
country. However, here we are. You won't forget what I told you?"

"No--I'll remember," said the young man.

The reappearance of Mr. Barnes and wife so soon excited some surprise
in the store, for it had got around, as such things will, that he was an
impostor, and it was supposed that he would not venture to show his face
there again. The appearance of his rustic companion likewise attracted
attention. Certainly, Mr. Montgomery (it makes little difference what we
call him) did not exhibit the slightest appearance of apprehension, but
his manner was quite cool and self-possessed. He made his way to that
part of the counter attended by the clerk with whom he had before
spoken. He observed with pleasure and relief that the man who had
questioned his identity with any of the ministers of Hayfield Centre
was no longer in the store. This would make the recovery of the ring
considerably easier.

"Well, sir," he said, addressing the clerk, "I suppose you did not
expect to see me again so soon?"

"No, sir."

"Nor did I expect to be able to return for the ring before to-morrow,
not supposing that I could bring witnesses to prove that I was what
I represented. But fortunately I met just now a young friend, who
can testify to my identity, as he has heard me preach frequently in
Plainfield, where he resides. Mr. Young, will you be kind enough to tell
this gentleman who I am?"

"Parson Barnes, of Hayfield Centre," said the youth, confidently.

"You have heard me preach, have you not, in Plainfield?"

"Yes," said the young man, fully believing that he was telling the
truth.

"And I have called on your parents?"

"Yes."

"I think," said the adventurer, "that will be sufficient to convince you
that I am what I appear."

It was hard to doubt, in the face of such evidence. Ephraim Young was so
unmistakably from the rural districts that it would have been absurd to
suspect him of being an artful city rogue. Besides, Mr. Barnes himself
was got up so naturally that all the clerk's doubts vanished at once. He
concluded that the customer who had questioned his genuineness must be
very much mistaken.

"I ought to apologize to you, sir," he said, "for doubting your word.
But in a city like this you know one has to be very careful."

"Of course," said the adventurer, blandly, "I do not blame you in the
least. You only did your duty, though it might have cost me some trouble
and inconvenience."

"I am sorry, sir."

"No apologies, I beg. It has all turned out right, and your mistake
was a natural one. If you will kindly return me the ring, I will defer
selling it, I think, till another day."

The clerk brought the ring, which he handed back to Mr. Montgomery. The
latter received it with so much the more satisfaction, as he had made
up his mind at one time that it was gone irrevocably, and put it away in
his waistcoat pocket.

"I had intended to buy some silver spoons," he said, "but it will be
necessary to wait until I have disposed of the ring. However, I may as
well look at some, eh, Mrs. Barnes?"

"If you like," assented the lady.

So the pair examined some spoons, and fixed upon a dozen, which they
said they would return and buy on the next day, and then, with a
polite good-by, went out of the store, leaving behind, on the whole, a
favorable impression.

Ephraim Young accompanied them out, and walked along beside them in the
street. He, too, was in good spirits, for had not his companion promised
him five dollars for his services, which he had faithfully rendered?
Five dollars to the young man from the rural districts was a very
considerable sum of money--quite a nugget, in fact--and he already
enjoyed in advance the pleasure which he anticipated of telling his
friends at home how easily he had earned such a sum in "York." He walked
along beside the adventurer, expecting that he would say something about
paying him, but no allusion was made by the adventurer to his
promise. Indeed, five dollars was considerably more than he had in his
possession. When they reached Amity street, for they were now proceeding
up Broadway, he sought to shake off the young man, whose company he no
longer desired.

"This is our way," he said. "I suppose you are going further. I am very
glad to have met you, Mr. Young. I hope you will give our regards to
your excellent parents;" and he held out his hand in token of farewell.

"Ain't you goin' to pay me that money?" said Ephraim, bluntly, becoming
alarmed at the prospect of losing the nugget he had counted on with so
much confidence.

"Bless me, I came near forgetting it! I hope you will excuse me," and
to Ephraim's delight he drew out his pocketbook. But the prospect of
payment was not so bright as the young man supposed.

"I don't think I have a five-dollar bill," said Mr. Montgomery, after an
examination of the pocketbook. "Mrs. Montgomery, do you happen to have a
five with you?"

"No, I haven't," said the lady, promptly. "I spent all my money shopping
this morning."

"That is unfortunate. Our young friend has rendered us such a service I
don't like to make him wait for his money."

Ephraim Young looked rather blank at this suggestion.

"Let me see, I have a hundred-dollar bill here," said Mr. Montgomery.
"I will go into the next store, and see if I can't get it changed. Mr.
Young, will you be kind enough to remain with my wife?"

"Certain," said Ephraim, brightening up.

Mr. Montgomery went into a shop near by, but made no request to have a
hundred-dollar bill changed. He was rather afraid that they might comply
with his request, which would have subjected him to some embarrassment.
He merely inquired if he could use a pen for a moment; request which was
readily granted. In less than five minutes he emerged into the street
again. Ephraim Young looked toward him eagerly.

"I am sorry to say, my young friend," he remarked, "that I was unable to
get my bill changed. I might get it changed at a bank, but the banks are
all closed at this hour."

The countryman looked disturbed.

"I am afraid," continued Mr. Montgomery, "I must wait and send you the
money in a letter from Hayfield Centre."

"I'd rather have it now," said Ephraim.

"I am sorry to disappoint you," said the adventurer smoothly; "but after
all you will only have a day or two to wait. To make up to you for the
delay I have decided to send you ten dollars instead of five. Finding
I could not change my bill, I wrote a note for the amount, which I will
hand you."

Ephraim received the paper, which the other handed him, and read as
follows:

NEW YORK, Sept 15, 18--.

Three days from date I promise to pay Mr. Ephraim Young ten dollars.

JOTHAM BARNES, of Hayfield Centre.

"How will that do?" asked the adventurer. "By waiting three days you
double your money."

"You'll be sure to send it," said Ephraim, doubtfully.

"My young friend, I hope you do not doubt me," said the Rev. Mr. Barnes,
impressively.

"I guess it's all right," said Ephraim, "only I thought I might like to
spend the money in the city."

"Much better save it up," said the other. "By and by it may come in
useful."

Ephraim carefully folded up the note, and deposited it in an immense
wallet, the gift of his father. He would have preferred the money which
it represented: but three days would soon pass, and the ten dollars
would be forwarded to him. He took leave of his new acquaintances, Mr.
Montgomery shaking his hand with affectionate warmth, and requesting him
to give his best respects to his parents. When Ephraim was out of sight
he returned to his wife, with a humorous twinkle in his eye, and said:

"Wasn't that cleverly done, old lady?"

"Good enough!" remarked the lady. "Now you've got the ring back again,
what are you going to do with it?"

"That, my dear, is a subject which requires the maturest consideration.
I shall endeavor to convert it as soon as possible into the largest
possible sum in greenbacks. Otherwise I am afraid our board bill, and
the note I have just given to my rural friend, will remain unpaid."



CHAPTER XXIV

MR. MONTGOMERY'S ARREST

Having shaken off his country acquaintance, of whom he had no further
need, Mr. Montgomery started to return to his lodgings. On the whole,
he was in good spirits, though he had not effected the sale of the ring.
But it was still in his possession, and it had a tangible value.

"I am sorry you did not sell the ring," said Mrs. Montgomery.

"So am I," said her husband. "We may have to sell it in some other
city."

"We can't leave the city without money."

"That's true," returned her husband, rather taken aback by what was
undeniably true.

"We must sell the ring, or raise money on it, in New York."

"I don't know but you are right. The trouble is, there are not many
places where they will buy so expensive an article. Besides, they will
be apt to ask impertinent questions."

"You might go to a pawnbroker's."

"And get fleeced. If I got a quarter of the value from a pawnbroker, I
should be lucky."

"We must do something with it," said Mrs. Montgomery, decidedly.

"Right, my dear. We must get the sinews of war somewhere. Richard will
never be himself again till his pocketbook is lined with greenbacks. At
present, who steals my purse steals trash."

"Suppose you try Tiffany's?"

"The ring has already been offered there. They might remember it."

"If they do, say that he is your son."

"A good thought," answered the husband. "I will act upon it. But, on the
whole, I'll doff this disguise, and assume my ordinary garments. This
time, my dear, I shall not need your assistance."

"Well, the sooner it's done the better. That's all I have to say."

"As soon as possible."

Mr. Montgomery returned to his lodgings in Amity street, and, taking
off his clerical garb, appeared in the garb in which we first made his
acquaintance. The change was very speedily effected.

"Wish me good luck, Mrs. M.," he said, as he opened the door. "I am
going to make another attempt."

"Good luck to you, Tony! Come back soon."

"As soon as my business is completed. If I get the money, we will leave
for Philadelphia this evening. You may as well be packing up."

"I am afraid the landlady won't let us carry away our baggage unless we
pay our bill."

"Never mind! Pack it up, and we'll run our chance."

Felix Montgomery left the house with the ring carefully deposited in
his vest pocket. To judge from his air of easy indifference, he
might readily have been taken for a substantial citizen in excellent
circumstances; but then appearances are oftentimes deceitful, and they
were especially so in the present instance.

He made his way quickly to Broadway, and thence to Tiffany's, at that
time not so far uptown as at present. He entered the store with a
nonchalant air, and, advancing to the counter, accosted the same clerk
to whom Paul had shown the ring earlier in the day.

"I have a valuable ring which I would like to sell," he said. "Will you
tell me its value?"

The clerk no sooner took it in his hand than he recognized it.

"I have seen that ring before," he said, looking at Mr. Montgomery
keenly.

"Yes," said the latter, composedly; "this morning, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

"My boy brought it in here. I ought not to have sent him, for he came
very near losing it on the way home. I thought it best to come with it
myself."

This was said so quietly that it was hard to doubt the statement, or
would have been if information had not been brought to the store that
the ring had been stolen.

"Yes, boys are careless," assented the clerk, not caring to arouse Mr.
Montgomery's suspicions. "You wish to sell the ring, I suppose."

"Yes," answered the other; "I don't like to carry a ring of so great
value. Several times I have come near having it stolen. Will you buy
it?"

"I am not authorized to make the purchase," said the clerk. "I will
refer the matter to Mr. Tiffany."

"Very well," said Mr. Montgomery. "I am willing to accept whatever he
may pronounce a fair price."

"No doubt," thought the clerk.

He carried the ring to his employer, and quickly explained the
circumstances.

"The man is doubtless a thief. He must be arrested," said the jeweler.

"If I go for an officer, he will take alarm."

"Invite him to come into the back part of the shop, and I will protract
the negotiation while you summon a policeman."

The clerk returned, and at his invitation Mr. Montgomery walked to
the lower end of the store, where he was introduced to the head of the
establishment. Sharp though he was, he suspected no plot.

"You are the owner of this ring?" asked Mr. Tiffany.

"Yes, sir," said the adventurer. "It has been in our family for a long
time."

"But you wish to sell it now?"

"Yes; I have come near losing it several times, and prefer to dispose of
it. What is its value?"

"That requires some consideration. I will examine it closely."

Mr. Montgomery stood with his back to the entrance, waiting patiently,
while the jeweler appeared to be engaged in a close examination of the
ring. He congratulated himself that no questions had been asked which
it might have been difficult for him to answer. He made up his mind
that after due examination Mr. Tiffany would make an offer, which he
determined in advance to accept, whatever it might be, since he would
consider himself fortunate to dispose of it at even two-thirds of its
value.

Meanwhile the clerk quietly slipped out of the store, and at a short
distance encountered a policeman, upon whom he called for assistance.
At the same moment Paul and Mr. Preston came up. Our hero, on being
released from arrest, had sought Mr. Preston, and the latter obligingly
agreed to go with him to Tiffany's, and certify to his honesty, that, if
the ring should be brought there, it might be retained for him. Paul did
not recognize the clerk, but the latter at once remembered him.

"Are you not the boy that brought a diamond ring into our store this
morning?" he asked.

"Into Tiffany's?"

"Yes."

"Have you seen anything of it?" asked our hero, eagerly. "I am the one
who brought it in."

"A man just brought it into the store," said the clerk.

"Is he there now?"

"He is talking with Mr. Tiffany. I came out for a policeman. He will be
arrested at once."

"Good!" ejaculated Paul; "I am in luck. I thought I should never see the
ring again. What sort of a man is he?"

From the description, Paul judged that it was Felix Montgomery himself,
and, remembering what a trick the adventurer had played upon him at
Lovejoy's Hotel, he felt no little satisfaction in the thought that the
trapper was himself trapped at last.

"I'll go along with you," he said. "I want to see that man arrested."

"You had better stay outside just at first, until we have secured him."

Meanwhile Mr. Tiffany, after a prolonged examination, said: "The ring is
worth two hundred and fifty dollars."

"That will be satisfactory," said Mr. Montgomery, promptly.

"Shall I give you a check for the amount?" asked the jeweler.

"I should prefer the money, as I am a stranger in the city, and not
known at the banks."

"I can make the check payable to bearer, and then you will have no
difficulty in getting it cashed."

While this conversation was going on, the clerk entered the store with
the policeman, but Mr. Montgomery's back was turned, and he was not
aware of the fact till the officer tapped him on the shoulder, saying:
"You are my prisoner."

"What does this mean? There is some mistake," said the adventurer,
wheeling round with a start.

"No mistake at all. You must come with me."

"What have I done? You take me for some one else."

"You have stolen a diamond ring."

"Who says so?" demanded the adventurer, boldly. "It is true I brought
one here to sell, but it has belonged to me for years."

"You are mistaken, Mr. Montgomery," said Paul, who had come up
unperceived. "You stole that ring from me this morning, after dosing me
with chloroform at Lovejoy's Hotel."

"It is a lie," said the adventurer, boldly. "That boy is my son. He is
in league with his mother to rob me. She sent him here this morning
unknown to me. Finding it out, I took the ring from him, and brought it
here myself."

Paul was certainly surprised at being claimed as a son by the man who
had swindled him, and answered: "I never saw you before this morning. I
have no father living."

"I will guarantee this boy's truth and honesty," said Mr. Preston,
speaking for the first time. "I believe you know me, Mr. Tiffany."

"I need no other assurance," said the jeweler, bowing. "Officer, you may
remove your prisoner."

"The game is up," said the adventurer, finding no further chance for
deception. "I played for high stakes, and I have lost the game. I have
one favor to ask. Will some one let my wife know where I am?"

"Give me her address," said Paul, "and I will let her know."

"No. ---- Amity street. Ask her to come to the station-house to see me."

"I will go at once."

"Thank you," said Mr. Montgomery; "as I am not to have the ring, I don't
know that I am sorry it has fallen into your hands. One piece of advice
I will venture to offer you, my lad," he added, smiling. "Beware of any
jewelers hailing from Syracuse. They will cheat you, if you give them a
chance."

"I will be on my guard," said Paul. "Can I do anything more for you?"

"Nothing, thank you. I have a fast friend at my side, who will look
after me."

The officer smiled grimly at the jest, and the two left the store arm in
arm.

"Do you still wish to sell this ring?" asked Mr. Tiffany, addressing
Paul.

"Yes, sir."

"I renew my offer of this morning. I will give you two hundred and fifty
dollars."

"I shall be glad to accept it."

The sale was quickly effected, and Paul left the store with what seemed
to him a fortune in his pocket.

"Be careful not to lose your money," said Mr Preston.

"I should like to place a hundred and fifty dollars in your hands," said
Paul, turning to Mr. Preston.

"I will willingly take care of it for you, and allow you interest upon
it."

The transfer was made, and, carefully depositing the balance of the
money in his pocketbook, our hero took leave of his friend and sought
the house in Amity street.



CHAPTER XXV

PAUL'S FINAL SUCCESS

Mrs. Montgomery impatiently awaited the return of her husband. Meanwhile
she commenced packing the single trunk which answered both for her
husband and herself. She was getting tired of New York, and anxious to
leave for Philadelphia, being fearful lest certain little transactions
in which she and her husband had taken part should become known to the
police.

She had nearly completed her packing when Paul rang the doorbell.

The summons was answered by the landlady in person.

"Is Mrs. Montgomery at home?" asked Paul.

"No such lady lives here," was the answer.

It occurred to Paul as very possible that Mr. Montgomery might pass
under a variety of names. He accordingly said, "Perhaps I have got the
name wrong. The lady I mean is tall. I come with a message from her
husband, who is a stout man with black hair and whiskers. He gave me
this number."

"Perhaps you mean Mr. Grimsby. He and his wife live here."

"Probably that is the name," said Paul.

"I will give Mrs. Grimsby your message," returned the landlady, whose
curiosity was excited to learn something further about her boarders.

"Thank you," said Paul; "but it is necessary for me to see the lady
myself."

"Well, you can follow me, then," said the landlady, rather ungraciously.

She led the way upstairs, and knocked at the door of Mrs. Grimsby, or
as we will still call her, Mrs. Montgomery, since that name is more
familiar to the reader, and she was as much entitled to the one as the
other.

Mrs. Montgomery opened the door, and regarded our hero suspiciously, for
her mode of life had taught her suspicion of strangers.

"Here's a boy that wants to see you," said the landlady.

"I come with a message from your husband," said Paul.

Mrs. Montgomery remembered Paul as the boy who was the real owner of the
diamond ring, and she eyed him with increased suspicion.

"Did my husband send you? When did you see him."

"Just now, at Tiffany's," answered Paul, significantly.

"What is his message?" asked Mrs. Montgomery, beginning to feel uneasy.

Paul glanced at the landlady, who, in the hope of gratifying her
curiosity, maintained her stand by his side.

"The message is private," he said.

"I suppose that means that I am in the way," remarked the landlady,
sharply. "I don't want to pry into anybody's secrets. Thank Heaven, I
haven't got any secrets of my own."

"Walk in, young man," said Mrs. Montgomery.

Paul entered the room, and she closed the door behind him. Meanwhile the
landlady, who had gone part way downstairs, retraced her steps, softly,
and put her ear to the keyhole. Her curiosity, naturally strong, had
been stimulated by Paul's intimation that there was a secret.

"Now," said Mrs. Montgomery, impatiently, "out with it! Why does my
husband send a message by you, instead of coming himself?"

"He can't come himself."

"Why can't he?"

"I am sorry to say that I am the bearer of bad news," said Paul,
gravely. "Your husband has been arrested for robbing me of a diamond
ring."

"Where is he?" demanded Mrs. Montgomery, not so much excited or overcome
as she would have been had this been the first time her husband had
fallen into the clutches of the law.

"At the street station-house. He wants you to come and see him."

"Have you got the ring back?"

"Yes."

Mrs. Montgomery was sorry to hear it. She hoped her husband might
be able to secrete it, in which case he would pass it over to her to
dispose of. Now she was rather awkwardly situated, being without money,
or the means of making any.