Chapter XLIV The Train Boy by Jr. Horatio Alger

CONCLUSION.
Mr. Emanuel Manson was considerably surprised to see Paul walk into the office the morning after his arrival. He was not aware that our hero was still in Mr. Bradford's employ. Though it had been at first suggested that Mrs. Palmer should come weekly to receive a part of Paul's salary, Mr. Bradford afterward decided to give his young agent a hundred dollars in advance, which was placed in his mother's hands, and obviated the necessity of her calling. Seeing and hearing nothing of Paul, therefore, Mr. Manson naturally concluded that he had been discharged, and was seeking for employment elsewhere.

"Good-morning, Mr. Manson!" said Paul, politely.

"What, you here again?" exclaimed Manson, by no means pleased.

"Yes, I am here again."

"It was hardly worth your while to come," said the book-keeper, with a sneer. "We have no vacancy."

Paul smiled, for he saw what was meant.

"Is Julius here still?" he asked.

"Yes, he is, and likely to stay. You needn't flatter yourself you can step into his place."

"I haven't the slightest wish to do so," said Paul, good-naturedly.

"Because you are so prosperous, I suppose," sneered Manson.

"You've hit it, Mr. Manson. I am too prosperous to wish to interfere with Julius."

"What are you doing?" asked the book-keeper, not without some curiosity.

"I have been traveling for a house in this city."

"Indeed! It was a fortunate house."

"I agree with you, Mr. Manson. I have done very well for them."

"You travel! I'd as soon send a baby."

"I dare say you would. Is Mr. Bradford in?"

"Yes, but he is busy."

"Nevertheless, I will venture to disturb him."

"You'd better not; he won't like it."

But Paul had already opened the door of the inner office, and stood in the presence of Mr. Bradford.

"Bless my soul, Paul! I am glad to see you," said the manufacturer, rising and shaking hands cordially with our hero. "When did you arrive?"

"Yesterday afternoon, and I tried to get a chance to call, but——"

"Of course, your mother wanted to see you. It's all right. Now let me know all about your trip."

Paul gave a summary of results, and his employer listened with evident surprise and approval.

"You have done splendidly," he said. "I did not dream of realizing so much for the mine. And you got the better of Fox, too. I value that as much as I do the money you have made for me. Besides your wages, I shall make you a present of five hundred dollars, to show my appreciation of your services."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Bradford, but I have been handsomely rewarded by another party," and he mentioned the two thousand dollars paid him by Jim Scott.

"I am all the more pleased," said Mr. Bradford.

"I was not sure whether I ought to accept it," said Paul.

"You were right in doing so, since it was neither given nor promised till after you had sold the mine. That, however, will make no difference with my gift."

As he spoke, he wrote a check for $500 and handed it to Paul, who expressed his gratitude warmly.

"I have also," Paul continued, "made an investment for you and myself."

"What is that?"

"I had an opportunity to purchase a promising mine for three thousand dollars. I secured two-thirds for you, and one-third for myself."

"So it seems we are partners, Paul," said Mr. Bradford, smiling.

"Yes, sir, as far as that goes."

"Very well. I ratify your action."

At this moment a telegraph boy appeared with a dispatch, which he handed to Mr. Brandford.

"What's this?" said the manufacturer. "Who is Jim Scott?"

"The man I left in charge of our mine."

"Read that, then."

Paul took the telegram and read:

"Your mine is developing richly. Will you sell for fifteen thousand dollars?"

Paul's eyes sparkled with delight, not alone at his prospective profit, but at this proof of his financial shrewdness.

"Well, Paul, what shall we do?" asked the manufacturer, smiling. "It is your affair, and you shall decide."

"We might sell half on that basis," suggested Paul. "Very good. Write the dispatch, and it shall be sent at once. Moreover, I will consider you half-owner, and you shall give me back that check for five hundred dollars. Then we shall have each invested one thousand five hundred dollars."

"Thank you very much, Mr. Bradford, I can hardly believe this is real."

It was indeed hard to realize that besides the thousand dollars which remained to him after the investment, he would receive three thousand seven hundred and fifty for the sale of half his share, and retain the other half, which was probably worth quite as much more. It was probably no exaggeration to say that he was worth eight thousand dollars, while three months since he was glad when he managed to earn eight or ten dollars a week as a train boy.

"By the way, Paul," said the manufacturer, "I hope you won't retire from business, now you are rich."

"I should not like to be idle, sir."

"I will engage you to travel for my firm, then, and your compensation will depend on your success. Will that suit you?"

"Yes, sir; I can ask for nothing better. When shall I report for service?"

"You may come here daily to get acquainted with the details of our trade. I shall not send you out again for a few weeks."

As Paul passed out of the office, the book-keeper said:

"Well, won't Mr. Bradford take you on again?"

"I have never been out of Mr. Bradford's employment," answered Paul, smiling.

"What!" ejaculated Manson. "You don't mean to say you have been traveling for our firm?"

"That is just what I do say. When I gave up my position to Julius, I was promoted to traveling salesman."

"Well, well, I never heard the like. Mr. Bradford must be crazy."

Paul smiled, and went out. It was not long before the book-keeper found how Paul stood, and his manner changed accordingly—not from friendship, but from policy.

As I write, Paul is nearing his twenty-first birthday. On the day he attains his majority he is to be admitted into the firm as junior partner. He is worth fully twenty thousand dollars, and with his business capacity bids fair eventually to become very rich. He has bought a comfortable house for his mother, who, I need hardly say, does not need now to take in sewing. Near them live Grace and her artist husband. They have recently returned from Italy, where Frederic Vernon studied art enthusiastically, and with success. He no longer paints portraits, but devotes his attention to general art.

Mrs. Sheldon is still a widow, and content to remain so. She is thankful now for the narrow escape she had from Major Ashton, who would have dissipated her fortune and made her wretched. Though she did not approve Grace's choice of a husband, she became reconciled long ago, and is an almost daily visitor at Mrs. Vernon's happy home.

Stephen Palmer's temporary prosperity was owing to a connection with counterfeiters. He fled the country to avoid arrest, going first to Canada. Once he wrote in great distress to Paul, and our hero sent him a hundred dollars. For the sake of the relationship, Paul would gladly set him up in some business; but Stephen is a ne'er-do-well, and will probably never amount to anything.

Mr. Manson, the book-keeper, is still at his post, but Julius was long ago succeeded by another boy. He proved too idle and careless even for his uncle to tolerate. He envies Paul's success, but will never emulate the diligence and fidelity which made it possible.

THE END.