Chapter VI Dan, the Newsboy by Jr. Horatio Alger
MORE THAN A MATCH
Mrs. Mordaunt looked up anxiously as Dan entered the room. She had little expectation that he had been able in one morning to make up the large deficiency in the sum reserved for the rent, but there was a possibility, and she clung to that. Dan thought of postponing the relation of his good news, but when he saw his mother's anxious face, he felt that it would be cruel.
So when she said, "Well, Dan?" he nodded his head cheerfully.
"I've got it, mother," he said.
"Thank God for all His goodness!" ejaculated Mrs. Mordaunt, fervently.
"You see He hasn't forgotten us," said Dan, gleefully.
"No, my boy, it is a rebuke to my momentary want of faith. How could you raise so large a sum? Surely you did not earn it in one forenoon?"
"You're right there, mother. I'm not smart enough to earn two dollars before twelve o'clock."
"But you've got the money, Dan?"
"Look at this, mother," and Dan displayed the bills.
"Where did you get them, Dan?" asked his mother, astonished.
"I borrowed them."
"I didn't know we had a friend left, able or willing to lend us that sum."
"I borrowed them of Alexander Grant, of St. Louis, and gave my note for them," answered Dan, in a tone of some importance.
"Alexander Grant, of St. Louis! I don't remember that name."
"He's a new friend of mine, mother. I haven't known him over twenty-four hours. As the old friends have treated us so badly, I'm goin' in for new ones."
"You quite mystify me, Dan. Tell me all about it."
Dan did so.
"He's very kind to a stranger, Dan. Heaven will reward him, I am sure."
"I hope it will, mother. I wish I was a rich man. I should enjoy helping those who needed it. If I ever get rich—though it doesn't look much like it now—I will do all the good I can. I wonder rich men don't do it oftener."
"It springs from thoughtlessness sometimes, Dan."
"And from selfishness pretty often," added Dan, whose views of human nature were considerably less favorable than they had been in his more prosperous days. "A good many men are like Tom Carver, as he is now and will be when he is grown up."
"Perhaps there are more good and generous men than we suppose, Dan," urged his mother, who liked to think well of her fellow-beings.
"Like Mr. Gripp and our landlord, for instance. By the way, I hear Mr. Grab's steps on the stairs. I want to deal with him. Just you step into the bedroom, mother."
Mrs. Mordaunt had no desire to meet Mr. Grab, but she was a little afraid of Dan's impetuous temper.
"You will treat him respectfully, won't you, Dan?" she urged, as she turned to go into the adjoining room.
Dan's eyes danced with fun.
"I'll treat him with all the respect he deserves, mother," he answered.
Mrs. Mordaunt looked a little doubtful, for she understood Dan, but did not say more, for Mr. Grab was already knocking at the door.
"Don't come out, whatever you hear, mother," said Dan, in a low voice. "I'll come out all right, though I shall tantalize him a little at first."
The knock was repeated.
"Come in!" Dan called out, in a loud, clear tone.
The door opened, and a thin, undersized man, with bushy red hair and the look of a cross mastiff, entered the room.
Before his entrance Dan had seated himself in the plain wooden rocking-chair with his feet on a cricket. He looked quite easy and unconcerned.
"How are you, Grab?" he said, in a friendly manner.
"You might call me Mr. Grab," returned the landlord, angrily.
"I've no objection, I'm sure, Mr. Grab," said Dan. "How is your health? You're looking very yellow. Got the jaundice?"
"I am perfectly well, and I am not yellow at all. Do you mean to insult me?" demanded Grab, irritated.
"I wouldn't do that for a cent, Mr. Grab. I am glad you feel well, though you ain't looking so. It's very friendly of you to come round to see me and mother."
"Where is your mother?" snapped Mr. Grab.
"She is engaged just now, and won't have the pleasure of seeing you."
"But I must see her."
"Must! You are quite mistaken. You can't see her. You can see me."
"I've seen more of you than I want to already," said Grab.
"That isn't talking like a friend, Mr. Grab," said Dan, "when I'm so glad to see you. Perhaps you have come on business."
"Of course I have come on business, and you know very well what that business is, you young monkey."
"Thank you, Mr. Grab, you are very complimentary. It isn't about the rent, is it?"
"Of course it is!" snapped the landlord.
"Oh, dear, how could I have forgotten that it was rent-day," said Dan, with well-feigned confusion.
Mr. Grab's brow grew dark. He concluded that he wasn't going to collect the rent, and that always chafed him.
"It's your business to know when rent-day comes," he said, bringing down his fist with such emphasis on the table that he hurt his knuckles, to Dan's secret delight.
"Please 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."