Chapter VII Dan, the Newsboy by Jr. Horatio Alger
MR. GRIPP IS WORSTED
Punctually at three o'clock Dan knocked at the door of Mr. Grant's room in the Astor House.
That gentleman looked at his watch as he admitted our hero.
"You are punctual to the minute," he said. "Your watch keeps excellent time."
"I'll tell you why," answered Dan, smiling. "I always keep it at Tiffany's. I don't dare to carry it for fear it will get out of order."
"You ought to have a watch," said Mr. Grant. "That will come in time."
"I hope so," said Dan. "Then I could be sure to keep my business appointments. Now I have to depend on the City Hall clock. I'd rather look at it than carry it round."
"Well, Dan, do you think Mr. Gripp is prepared to receive us?"
"He'll be glad to see you. He'll think you are going to buy some clothes. I don't think he'll be very happy to see me."
"He must see us both, or neither. Has he any good clothes?"
"Yes, sir—good enough for me. I don't think you would like to patronize his establishment."
"By the way, Dan, you have given me an order for money, and I have not handed you the equivalent."
"You may not get the money, sir."
"I will make the effort at any rate. By the way, Dan, that coat of yours is getting shabby."
"It is the best I have, sir. Boys in my business don't have to dress much."
"That gives me an idea. Please hand me my hat, and we will start."
The two left the Astor House together. One or two of Dan's associates whom they encountered on the way, were surprised to see him walking on terms of apparent friendly companionship with a well-to-do stranger, but decided that Dan was probably acting as his guide.
They found Mr. Gripp standing as usual in the door-way of his shop watching for customers. He did not at first observe Dan, but his attention was drawn to Mr. Grant.
"Walk in, sir," he said, obsequiously. "You will find what you want here. Styles fashionable, and as for prices—we defy competition."
Alexander Grant paused, and looked critically about him. He understood very well the sort of establishment he was about to enter, and would not have thought of doing so but in Dan's interests.
He stepped over the threshold, and Dan was about to follow, when the eagle eye of Mr. Gripp recognized our hero.
"Clear out, you young rascal!" he exclaimed. "Don't you come round here any more."
Dan did not answer, for he knew Mr. Grant would do so for him.
Mr. Grant turned back, and said, quietly:
"To whom are you speaking, sir?"
"I beg your pardon, sir—it's that boy."
"Then, sir, you will oblige me by stopping at once. That boy is in my company and under my protection."
Nathan Gripp stared as if transfixed.
"Do you know him, sir?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"You are mistaken in him, sir. He's an artful young rascal. He was here yesterday, and acted outrageously. He assaulted my clerk and insulted me."
"I have nothing to do with that. He is in my company, and if I enter the store he will."
"Oh, of course, if he's with you he can come in. Samuel, show the gentleman what he wants."
Dan smiled, and nothing but a sense of his own interest prevented Mr. Gripp from objecting to his entrance.
"What will I show you, sir?" asked the callow young man named Samuel, glaring at Dan in vivid remembrance of the blow which had doubled him up.
"Have you any coats and vests that will fit this young gentleman?"
"Young gentleman!" repeated Samuel, mechanically, glancing at Dan in silent hatred.
"That means me, Samuel," said Dan, mischievously. "Samuel is an old friend of mine, Mr. Grant."
"I think we can fit him," said Samuel, by no means relishing the task of waiting upon his young opponent. "Take off your coat, young feller."
"Don't be too familiar, Samuel. You may call me Mr. Mordaunt," said Dan.
"I'll be – if I do," muttered the young man.
Dan took off his coat, and tried on the one submitted to his inspection. He afterward tried on the vest, and they proved to be a good fit.
"Do they suit you, Dan?" asked Mr. Grant.
"Yes, sir, they fit as well as if they had been made for me."
"What is the price of these articles, young man?" asked Mr. Grant.
"Twelve dollars," answered Samuel.
"He'll take eight," suggested Dan, in a low voice.
Mr. Grant knew well enough the ways of Chatham street merchants to appreciate the suggestion.
"That is too high," he said, quietly.
Samuel, who was trained to read customers, after a glance at Mr. Grant's face, prepared to reduce the price.
"We might say eleven," he said, meditatively. "Shall I put them up?"
"Not at that price."
"You don't want us to give 'em away?" said Samuel, in the tone of one whose reasonable demands had been objected to.
"There is no fear of that, I apprehend," returned Mr. Grant, dryly.
"I've no objection, I'm sure," remarked Dan, on his own account.
"I'd make a few remarks to you, young feller, if you were alone," he read in the eyes of the indignant salesman, and Dan enjoyed the restraint which he knew Samuel was putting upon himself.
"You are still asking too much," said the customer.
"What'll you give, sir?" asked Samuel, diplomatically.
"Eight dollars."
"Eight dollars! Why the cloth cost more than that!" protested Samuel.
"The work didn't cost you much, I presume."
"We pay the highest prices for work in this establishment, sir," said Samuel, hastily.
He forgot that Dan knew better.
"So they do, Mr. Grant," said Dan. "They pay twenty cents apiece for making vests."
"We pay more than that to our best hands," said Samuel.
"You told me you never paid more," retorted Dan.
Mr. Grant interrupted this discussion.
"Young man," said he, "I will give you eight dollars for the clothes."
"Say nine, sir."
"Not a cent more."
As the regular price was eight dollars—when they couldn't get any more—Samuel felt authorized to conclude the bargain without consulting Mr. Gripp.
"Shall I do up the clothes?" he asked.
"No," said Dan, "I'll wear 'em. You may put up my old ones."
Samuel felt it derogatory to his dignity to obey the orders of our hero, but there was no alternative.
The bundle was placed in Dan's hands.
"Now write me a receipt for the price," said Mr. Grant.
This was done.
Mr. Grant counted out six dollars and eighty cents.
"I have an order upon you for the balance," he said.
"I don't understand," ejaculated Samuel.
"Your principal owes my young friend, or his mother, one dollar and twenty cents for work. This you will receive as part of the price."
"I must see Mr. Gripp," said Samuel.
Mr. Gripp came forward frowning.
"We can't take the order, sir," he said. "The boy's money is not yet due."
"Isn't the work done and delivered?"
"Yes, sir; but it is our rule not to pay till a whole dozen is delivered."
"Then it is a rule which you must break," said Mr. Grant, firmly.
"We can't."
"Then I refuse to take the suit."
Nathan Gripp did not like to lose the sale on the one hand, or abdicate his position on the other.
"Tell your mother," he said to Dan, "that when she has finished another half-dozen vests I will pay her the whole."
He reflected that the stranger would be gone, and Dan would be in his power.
"Thank you," said Dan, "but mother's agreed to work for Jackson. He pays better."
"Then you'll have to wait for your pay," said Mr. Gripp, sharply.
"Don't you care to sell this suit?" asked Mr. Grant, quickly.
"Yes, sir, but under the circumstances we must ask all cash."
"You won't get it, sir."
"Then I don't think we care to sell," said Gripp, allowing his anger to overcome his interest.
"Very good. I think, Dan, we can find quite as good a bargain at Jackson's. Mr. Gripp, do I understand that you decline to pay this bill?"
"I will pay when the other half-dozen vests are made," said Gripp, stubbornly.
"I have nothing to do with that. The bill is mine, and it is with me you have to deal. The boy has nothing to do with it."
"Is that so?" asked Gripp, in surprise.
"It is. You may take your choice. Settle the bill now, or I shall immediately put it in a lawyer's hands, who will know how to compel you to pay it."
A determined will carries the day.
"Take this gentleman's money, Samuel," said Gripp, in a tone of annoyance.
There was no further trouble. Dan walked out of the store better dressed than he had been since the days of his prosperity.
"How can I thank you, Mr. Grant?" he said, gratefully.
"By continuing to care for your mother, my lad. You are lucky to have a mother living. Mine is dead, God bless her! Now, my lad, what do you think of my success in collecting bills?"
"You were too many for old Gripp, sir. He won't sleep to-night."
"He doesn't deserve to, for he grows rich by defrauding the poor who work for him."
Opposite the City Hall Park Dan and his friend separated.
"I shall not see you again, my boy," said Mr. Grant, "for I take the evening train. If you ever come to St. Louis, find me out."
"I will, sir."
"That's a good man," said Dan, as he wended his way homeward. "If there were more such, it would be good for poor people like mother and me. If I ever get rich, I mean to help along those that need it."