CHAPTER VI.
A RAY OF SUNSHINE.
Young Randolph entered upon his duties at once, but of course did little more during the day than familiarize himself with the work that had been assigned to him. Toward evening a ray of sunshine burst joyously into the bank, and threw a bright cheerful glow over the office.
Ray Goldwin, the light hearted, merry daughter of the senior partner, with her sunny face and winning manners, was like a clear June morning.
Little acts go far, many times, to make one happy or quite miserable. It so happened that our hero had been doing some writing for Mr. Goldwin’s own personal use. It lay upon his desk and was admirably done. It was, in fact, like copper plate. The whole arrangement of the work was artistic and in the best of taste.
“Oh, papa, who did this beautiful writing for you?” said Ray, enthusiastically.
“Our new clerk, Mr. Randolph,” responded her father, nodding his head in the direction of Herbert. The latter felt his cheeks grow rosy at this compliment.
“Mr. Randolph,” continued the banker, “will you kindly help me take these parcels out to my carriage?”
“Certainly, sir, with pleasure,” replied Herbert, politely.
young randolph handed ray into the
carriage with just enough embarrassment
in his manner to interest her.
Ray Goldwin looked at him with surprise; and his handsome face and fine form attracted even more than a passing glance from her.
“I want to run up to the corner of Broadway,” said Mr. Goldwin, when they had reached the door. “John, you may call for me,” he continued, addressing the coachman; “I will be ready by the time you get there.”
Young Randolph handed Ray into the carriage, with just enough embarrassment in his manner to interest her. Then he placed the parcels on the seat beside her, receiving meanwhile a smile and a look that fully rewarded him. Raising his hat, he turned away, and as the coachman drove off he made a hasty retreat for the bank, from which the sunshine now seemed to have departed.
When he started for home at the close of business hours, two figures stood on the opposite side of the street, a little nearer Broadway.
As Herbert opened the outer door, preparatory to passing out, he took a position that brought his eyes directly upon them. One of them, uneasily, but perhaps quite naturally, placed a hand on the shoulder of his companion, while with the other he pointed directly at Herbert. Then, as if realizing that possibly he had been detected in this act, he nervously pointed to something on the top of the building, and all the while talked rapidly. This was sufficient to arrest our hero’s attention. He watched the two sharply for a few minutes while standing upon the steps of the banking house.
Under his direct gaze they appeared somewhat nervous, and finally moved off in the direction of Broadway. Herbert followed them, or rather followed out his purpose to go up to City Hall Park, and find, if possible, Bob Hunter. Before reaching Broadway, however, the two young fellows who had pointed at him stopped and peered into a show window, thus bringing their backs full upon Herbert as he passed them.
He knew so little of city life that he was slow to form an opinion, thinking that what seemed odd and suspicious to him would perhaps be all right in New York. He therefore dismissed the matter from his mind, and watched with amazement the crowds of men who at that hour of the day were pouring up Broadway, on their way home from business.
“What a great city this is!” he thought; “and it is American, too. I wonder if any of the cities of the Old World can turn out such a lot of business men as these!”
The boy was right in asking himself this question. The wonder he felt was natural, for a finer body of men can rarely be found than the business men of New York. And now he joined the stream that flowed northward. The massive buildings, tall and stately, on either side of Broadway, captured his admiration, and he gazed upon them with open mouthed amazement.
Stone buildings with gigantic pillars and massive walls; buildings ten or a dozen stories high, and mighty spires raising their tops afar up in mid air—all these added to the country lad’s wonder and astonishment. He passed by the Western Union building, the Evening Post building, and now paused in front of the Herald office to read the “headings” on the bulletin board.
After being thus engaged for a few moments, he turned suddenly around, and, to his surprise, saw the two young fellows who had attracted his attention on Wall Street. One of them had a look about him that seemed familiar, and yet he could not tell where he had seen him. His figure, his eyes, and the shape of his face were not unlike Felix Mortimer; and yet he looked older than the latter by two or three years, for he wore a small mustache and tiny side whiskers. Seeing these same fellows the second time, and noticing that they were apparently watching him, made Herbert feel a trifle uneasy. But he was not easily worried or frightened.
Bob Hunter was in, as on the previous night, and very glad he seemed at his friend’s good success in getting so desirable a position. He listened to Herbert’s story of the contest with much interest, and then added thoughtfully:
“It might be a good idea to look out for that feller that seemed to get down on you so. He probably knows you are a stranger in the city, and——”
“Do you think there is any danger?” interrupted Herbert.
“No, I can’t say as there is; but he might think, if he could get you out of the way, he would get the place with the banker. You said he was disappointed.”
“Yes, he showed his disappointment very much.”
“Well, nothing may come of it. You keep your eye on me, and I’ll steer you through all right, I reckon.”
Herbert was upon the point of telling Bob his suspicions about the two fellows that seemed to be shadowing him, and then it occurred to him that he might magnify the matter, and work himself into a state of uneasiness when it would be better to give it no thought whatever. Therefore he said nothing to the newsboy about them.
When they had finished dinner a little later, Bob asked him if he could manage to pass away an hour or so alone.
“Certainly, if you have an engagement,” replied Herbert.
“I go to an evening school; but if you’ll be lonesome alone, why, I’ll stay with you till you learn a thing or two about the city.”
“Oh, I shall be all right,” said our hero, confidently. “Don’t think of remaining away from school on my account. I can enjoy looking at the sights here in the Bowery for a while; then I will go to the room, and read till you come.”
“All right. I’ll do as you say; but now you look out, Vermont, and don’t get lost.”
Bob seemed to have a fondness for calling his friend by this name, and the latter indulged him in the peculiarity without objection.
After a while, young Randolph drifted up to one of the Bowery dime museums, and stood there for some time reading the announcements, looking at the pictures, and watching the crowd that ebbed and flowed up and down that thoroughfare.
Presently a young fellow of about his own age, who had for some time been standing near him, made a casual remark about a comical looking person who had just passed by. Our hero looked up, and seeing that the remark had been addressed to him, he replied promptly. A conversation between him and the stranger followed. Herein Herbert showed the trustfulness characteristic of a country boy. He knew he was honest himself, and did not once suspect that the agreeable young man was playing the confidence game upon him.