FRIENDLY ADVISE
Being quick to learn, it did not take Dick long to grasp the scope of his new duties, and by the end of the second week he had gained the good will of every person connected with the bank, from the president down to the porter—with one single exception.
This was Ross Goodwyn, the cashier.
Somehow that individual seemed to take it as a personal affront that Dick had been chosen to fill the vacancy caused by the discharge of Charles.
He had figured on filling it with his nephew, and since as a rule these things were left to his discretion he felt very much aggrieved because Mr. Gibbs had for once gone over his head.
Being a sensitive man he imagined that the other employees were forever chuckling in their sleeves over his defeat, and hence he misconstrued every little incident that arose to be a slur aimed at his vanished authority.
It made him most unhappy.
And certainly Dick did not enjoy the thought of having this clever man classed as his enemy, for in the course of his duties about the bank he necessarily came into frequent contact with the cashier, and it was unpleasant to feel that the other was eyeing him constantly, as though ready to pick a flaw in his conduct.
Perhaps it also made Dick more careful than he might ordinarily have been, and in this way worked for good.
The bookkeeper's assistant, a young man named Kassam, frequently ate lunch with Dick, as his people lived at a distance, and he did not scorn to bring a bite to the office with him daily.
There was a little room back of the offices where some papers and books were kept, such as the big safe could not accommodate, and here the two would often sit and chat as they disposed of their luncheon.
Pliny Kassam was a diligent fellow, who meant to make his mark some day; he had a mother and a raft of little sisters at home, for whom he seemed to entertain a sincere affection.
It was the similarity in their conditions that first drew the boys together; for each of them had lost a good father, though Kassam's people were in comfortable circumstances.
It was one noon hour when Dick had been with the bank about three weeks, that his friend for the first time mentioned a subject that had a distinct bearing on the messenger's personal affairs.
In the course of the general talk Dick chanced to mention the name of the cashier, as having sent him upon a certain errand.
Pliny glanced around and unconsciously lowered his voice as he said:
"I'd advise you to keep your eye on Mr. Goodwyn, Dick, and when he asks you to do anything make sure that you carry out his wishes to a dot. He has it in for you on account of his disappointment about this position he wanted for that nephew of his."
"I always try to do exactly as I am told, no matter whether it is the cashier who gives the order or the bookkeeper. But I don't believe Mr. Goodwyn would stoop so low as to try and injure a fellow who had never done him any harm. I knew nothing about his nephew. The place was offered to me, and as I had to work I accepted it only too gladly. I hope Mr. Goodwyn will soon be as good a friend to me as anyone else in the bank," replied Dick, earnestly.
"Oh! don't mistake me, now, old fellow. I wouldn't for the world hint that our clever cashier would dream of doing you any harm, or trumping up a false charge against you. Those things happen often enough in the stories we read, but in real life very seldom. But there are other ways of getting into trouble, you know."
"Just how?" asked his companion, puzzled and not a little worried by the mysterious manner of Kassam.
"Well, suppose that something happened, as it frequently does, when things go wrong, and some careless person has misplaced a valuable paper—we know that after a certain amount of hunting it will be found, for it could hardly get out of our department; but in your case it would be different, for your work takes you outside. If the circumstances looked in the least suspicious, I mean that Mr. Goodwyn would be apt to condemn you off-hand. Just make up your mind to be unusually careful, that's all."
"See here, Pliny, you have some reason for telling me this, haven't you," demanded the other, anxiously.
Again his companion cast that instinctive hasty look around him, and the reason was obvious, for Mr. Goodwyn's little department was just at the other side of the thin partition, and if he happened to be in at this hour, which would be unusual, he could possibly hear voices raised above the ordinary, and as his decision was generally the controlling factor in the matter of employment, Pliny might find himself looking for another job.
"Well, to tell the truth I have. You were out yesterday at noon when I was eating my lunch, and he happened to be in his room when Mr. Graylock called to see about some business matter. They talked rather loud, for you remember Archibald is a trifle deaf, and raises his voice at all times. I couldn't help but hear, although I paid no particular attention to what they were saying until I happened to catch your name mentioned."
"My name?" echoed Dick, anxiously.
"Yes, and of course that caused me to sit up and take notice, for I thought it kind of queer that two business men in consultation should think about a boy who had nothing to do with their affairs at all," went on Pliny, lowering his voice still more, until its mysterious character affected Dick seriously, and he even found himself quivering with eagerness.
"Who brought me into the conversation first?" he asked.
"I think it was Graylock, for I heard him ask how you were making good, and from the plain sneer in his tone when he spoke I knew the old fellow was just hoping Mr. Goodwyn would say not at all, and that he would have to make a change."
"But he didn't—don't tell me he said I was a failure?"
"Oh! no; on the contrary he admitted that you seemed to be getting along pretty well, though he also spoke about the new broom sweeping clean, and that no doubt when the novelty had wore off you would show up just as many faults as Charlie had."
Dick breathed easier.
"I am glad he said a good word for me, anyhow. Wait and see if I go backward. I'm more determined than ever to make good here, for I believe that the one chance I wanted has come to me. What did Mr. Graylock say to that, Pliny?" he asked.
"He sneered at it in that nasty way he has, and he was mighty bitter when he declared that he had no faith in you. He even said you had come to him to ask for a job, and he felt constrained to turn you down because he had heard certain things in various quarters that reflected on your honesty—nothing positive, but just little straws that generally show which way the wind blows."
Dick half sprang out of his seat, and his face grew red with anger and mortification.
"I haven't liked Mr. Graylock from way back, but it never entered my head that he was a man who would descend to actual lies to get even with a boy who happened to cut his son out of a job. That was about as mean a thing as any man could ever hint at—no proof, but only general suspicion, and on that he would ruin my reputation with my employers. It's hard to stand that, Pliny, mighty hard!" he breathed, clinching his hands and looking as though he had half a mind to hurry around to the big department store and demand an explanation and an apology from the owner.
"Just what I said to myself at the time—old Graylock is a cur, a mean, mangy cur, that's what he is. And because I detest him so I made up my mind you should hear what happened to come to my ears. Mind you, I'm not a listener, and under ordinary circumstances I'd have stopped up my ears."
"It was kind of you to tell me, Pliny. I'll be more careful than ever how I do things now. Mr. Graylock offered me a position in his store, and told me to take off my coat and go to work; but as he only gave three dollars a week I had to decline. I suppose he can't quite forgive me for walking out. Perhaps I did say something a little sarcastic at the time, but who could help it when a man had even gone so far as to sneer at my father for declining to put his money into that store business of his?"
"Served him just right—three dollars a week, eh? And they do say he works his help like a mule driver. If that man doesn't get to be a millionaire it will be because he is so small he makes mistakes that a larger grained man never would. That is the law of compensation, my boy. And I hate to say it, but Graylock ended up by warning Mr. Goodwyn that if he were in his shoes he would keep a sharp eye on a boy who had had no father these many years to train him right. That kind of hit me too, and I couldn't help shaking my fist at the old curmudgeon through that partition."
"It was a mean trick, if I do say it. I ought to be glad, I suppose, that I happen to have nothing to do with Mr. Graylock. Even if he had offered me living wages I hated to think of working for him. But let's drop the subject. I'm glad you told me this, Pliny, unpleasant as it has been."
"You won't say anything to a living soul?"
"Of course not, not even to my mother, though it's little I ever keep from her. She would only worry about it, and what's the use? I must look out for myself. Depend on me to keep mum," replied Dick, quickly, reaching out a hand and shaking that of the assistant bookkeeper heartily.
"You know there is a knothole in that partition over there, and if a fellow cared to he could look in and see what Mr. Goodwyn was doing; but I wouldn't want to be guilty of that low trick. Hearing what was said in a loud voice was another matter; I couldn't help that," declared Pliny.
Then they talked of other things; though Dick was unusually sober the balance of that day, and every time Pliny caught his eye he gave a little shake of his head as though warning the messenger not to show his feelings so plainly.
Perhaps Mr. Goodwyn may have noticed the look on Dick's face when he had occasion to talk with him, and it may have given his conscience a little stab or so, for he seemed more than ordinarily pleasant to the lad.
Poor Dick was already learning that there may be a cloud upon the horizon ready to darken the bright skies, no matter how cheerful things may have looked heretofore; he had secured the situation that was the dream of his heart, but already a fly had dropped in the ointment.
The baneful influence of Mr. Graylock seemed capable of reaching him through the dislike of the cashier, and sooner or later he was apt to suffer because of that unnatural combination.
Even his fond mother noticed that he was dull that evening, but he said nothing, and hence she concluded that the duties of his new position were proving exacting.
But even Dick could not foresee the shadow that in the immediate future was destined to cast its blight upon his promising young business career.