“I’m sorry,” ejaculated Mrs. Harkins, “because if that’s so, Arthur is in very bad company in a very wicked place.”
In spite of himself, Herbert had to laugh at the vehemence with which his mother uttered her sentiments. After some further conversation he said:
“I may be able to help you, Mary. You know Mr. Anderson has gone to New York to accept a position as teacher in a private academy. I’ll write to him and ask him to keep on the lookout for Arthur. Of course New York is a big city and it seems like looking for a needle in a haystack, but it’s just possible he may run across him. Anyhow it will do no harm to try.”
The letter was dispatched that night. As he posted it Herbert little thought it was to be the messenger which was to summon him to newer, higher and more responsible duties. But a kind fate which conceals from us the misfortunes we are to undergo also hides from us the path which is to lead to happiness and prosperity. Although Noah Brooks had returned to the office and was able to resume his work, he insisted that Herbert should continue the writing he had been doing so well.
Three days later Herbert received a letter postmarked New York. He rightly surmised that it was from Mr. Anderson. It was brief and cordial. It said that he had heard nothing of Arthur Black, but that if he should run across him in the future he would immediately notify the family at Cleverly. There was a postscript to the letter, and unusual for a man’s postscript, it contained the most important thing of all. Mr. Anderson said that he had become acquainted with the city editor of the Argus, one of the important daily newspapers of the metropolis, and that he had the disposal of a position on the local staff which would pay fifteen dollars a week at the start, with a prospect for promotion and increased salary at an early date. The teacher said that Herbert’s letter had reached him opportunely and that he had strongly recommended his young friend for the position. The city editor, he added, would give him one week in which to either accept or decline the offer.
Herbert jumped at least two feet in the air when he had finished reading this letter. It offered him an opportunity he had secretly coveted for a long while. He hurried home to show the communication to his mother. Dinner had been served and she was waiting for him. As he took his place at the table, he tossed the envelope over to her.
“A letter from New York,” he said.
She read it through carefully. When she reached the postscript a shadow crossed her face.
“What are you going to do about it?” she asked.
He appreciated fully the meaning of that question. He understood that the answer to it meant either the continuance of their present comfortable home life or a temporary painful separation. But he knew his mother well too, and he realized from her tone and manner that she did not intend to advise him one way or the other. She was interested in his welfare and would let him settle the question for himself. Nevertheless she waited, with some anxiety, for the reply. Herbert walked over and put his arms about her shoulders as if to reassure her, and then replied in a low tone: