CHAPTER III.
IN WHICH JACK GETS A JOB IN WALL STREET.
“What is your name, my boy?” asked the white-haired old gentleman who had accompanied the lady and the little girl on the ferryboat when, a little later, just before the boat was ready to start on her return trip across the river, Jack presented himself in his wrinkled and not thoroughly dried clothes before him in the waiting-room of the ferry-house.
The little girl and her mother had been taken to a nearby hotel, in order that the child’s garments could be removed.
“Jack Hazard.”
“And my name is Seymour Atherton. Well, Jack, you have placed my daughter and myself under the greatest of obligations to you. You are a brave lad. Your courage and presence of mind saved the life of our dearest treasure, and it would be utterly impossible for us to thank you sufficiently.”
“I hope you’ll not let that trouble you, sir. I’m glad to have been of service to you.”
“Young man, it would trouble us a great deal more than you have any idea of if we did not make some little return that will show our appreciation of your gallant deed.”
“But I don’t want to be paid for doing my duty, sir,” objected Jack, with a flush.
“I am not speaking about payment, my lad, in the sense you perhaps imagine. Such a service as you have rendered us is quite beyond monetary reward,” said the old gentleman, feelingly. “But it is not impossible that we can do something in another way. I like your face. It is a bright one, stamped with energy and determination. You will make your way in the world, I have not the least doubt. It will do you no harm to ‘have a friend at court,’ as the saying is. You must let us know you better.”
“I’ve no objection to that,” said the boy, with a frank smile.
“That’s right,” said Mr. Atherton, cheerfully. “Now, in the first place, you have almost ruined your clothes. It is only fair that you allow me to buy you a new suit at once.”
To this offer Jack made no objection.
So he permitted the old gentleman to take him to a large furnishing goods store, where he was fitted out with new underclothes, shirt, tie, etc., and from thence to a clothing establishment, where one of the best suits was placed at his disposal, his own clothes being wrapped up and ordered to be sent to his home.
“Now you must come with me to the hotel and let me introduce you to my daughter and the little girl who owes you such a debt of gratitude, which when she grows older she will realize.”
Jack put up some little objection, but was overruled.
“I presume you are out on some business for the house with which you are employed, but if you will give me the name and address I will make it all right for you.”
Then Jack blushingly admitted that he was out of work and had come to Brooklyn in search of a position which he had seen advertised.
“Indeed,” remarked the old gentleman. “It will give me great pleasure to put you in the way of what you are in search, and at the same time give me an opportunity of knowing you better. How would you like to work in Wall Street?”
“I should like it very much indeed,” said Jack, eagerly.
“My son will need a messenger boy in a day or so, as the lad he has is about to leave. You shall have the place. I will telephone to him from the hotel and secure the position for you at once.”
“I thank you very much, sir,” said the boy gratefully. “My mother and sister depend largely on me, and I am sorry to say that I really need a job very badly.”
“I am glad to know that I can be of use to you in so important a particular,” said the old gentleman, in a tone of satisfaction. “Here we are; let us go in.”
The first thing Mr. Atherton did was to get in communication with his son, a Wall Street banker and broker, and he had no difficulty in making good his promise to Jack.
Then they went upstairs in the hotel to the room that had been temporarily engaged by Mrs. Bruce (which was the name of Mr. Atherton’s daughter).
“Laura, dear, this is Jack Hazard, the boy who saved our little Fanny’s life. You may remember he was standing near us at the time Fanny fell into the river.”
We will not repeat what Mrs. Bruce said to Jack.
She felt as all fond mothers do feel under the circumstances, and expressed herself accordingly.
She was deeply grateful for what the boy had done, and she brought him over to the bed where little Fanny lay covered up, waiting for her garments to dry, and made the child kiss him and say, “T’ank oo, Jack.”
While it is very nice to be praised, and all that, for doing a plucky action, still our hero rather objected, on the whole, to be made a hero of.
He was glad when the interview was over and he was permitted to take his leave with a letter from Mr. Atherton in his pocket addressed to “William Atherton,—Wall Street,” accompanied with instructions to present same immediately.
It was a vastly different boy that walked across the Brooklyn bridge about eleven o’clock from the one who a couple of hours before had crossed the river on the Fulton Ferry.
His thrilling adventure, with its attendant results, had left an indelible mark upon him.
He seemed to have grown older and more manly all at once.
Not only that, but was now assured of a position—and a good one, at that—in a section of the city and a business he had more than once regarded with envy.
“Won’t mother and sis be glad when I go home and tell them,” he mused as he stepped out with unusual vigor and glanced around on the promenade with eyes that fairly brimmed over with happiness. “Yes; I feel I’ve got the chance of my life, and if I don’t improve it, my name isn’t Jack Hazard.”
He found —— Wall Street without any trouble, and he saw that the offices of William Atherton were on the second floor.
“Is Mr. Atherton in?” he inquired of a clerk.
“Yes; but he is engaged at present. What is your business with him?”
“Please give him this letter.”
“Any answer?” asked the clerk as he took it.
“I guess so,” replied Jack.
“Take a seat,” said the clerk, brusquely, and walked away.
In a moment or two Jack was requested to walk into the private office, and there found himself face to face with a well-built, florid-complexioned man of perhaps forty, who pointed to a chair alongside his desk and then regarded the boy keenly for a moment or two before he spoke.
“I see you have rendered our family a special service, young man,” said William Atherton, in a genial way. “I should be glad if you would give me the particulars, as I am naturally very much interested.”
Jack with all due modesty related in as few words as possible how he had saved the life of little Fanny Bruce.
“You certainly deserve every word my father has said about you in his letter. To his gratitude I will now add mine—that ought to cover both our sentiments fully. And now I understand you wish to enter this office as a messenger.”
“I hope you will give me trial,” said Jack, earnestly.
“Undoubtedly. You are recommended by my father, and what little I know about you pleases me. You look to be apt and bright. Are you well acquainted with the lower part of the city?”
“Yes, sir.”
“With whom were you last employed?”
Jack told him, and said he could refer to the members of the late firm.
“It is scarcely necessary under the circumstances. Just write your full name and address on that pad. Thank you. That will be all. Your wages will be seven dollars to commence with, and I shall advance you as circumstances permit. You can start in to-morrow morning. The hours are nine to five. Report to Mr. Bishop.”
When Jack left the office he was the happiest boy in New York.