[CHAPTER XII.]
HARRISON'S REWARD.
"The hand of the diligent maketh rich."
IN the course of the morning following the events narrated in the last chapter, Mr. Clarkson accompanied Mr. Kilby to the residence of Mrs. Danforth. But Harrison had already gone to improve his first holiday by a visit to Mrs. Haven's cottage. The gentleman, after a moment's consultation, determined to follow him there, and invited Mrs. Danforth to be of the party.
The young clerk, who was engaged at the moment in a game of checkers with Ella, seemed at first somewhat embarrassed at the thought that they had taken so much pains to see him, but the frank cordiality of the gentleman soon put the whole party at their ease. Mr. Kilby called his young friend one side, and endeavored to draw from him his plan for the future. But Harrison had formed none, and confessed at length that he needed rest before he could enter upon any business. The constant anxiety of mind of the last six months and the additional duties of book-keeper, besides his self-imposed task for a few weeks, had over-tasked his system, and brought on a constant headache.
The gentleman proposed at once to take him to a physician; but the youth did not consider it necessary. The open air, and entire freedom from anxiety, would no doubt restore him in time.
"Take a little trip into the country," suggested the secret partner, at the same time taking from his pocket-book a roll of bills. "You noticed, perhaps," he added, with a pleasant twinkle of his eye, "that I did not pay you nor dismiss you from my employ. I shall probably need you in settling up this unpleasant business; but as I cannot do anything until the trial comes on, it is but fair that your wages should be continued. I think you mentioned that you were hired as an errand boy, at thirteen dollars a month, with, a promise of increase of wages if you did well. Did you ever have an increase?"
"I never asked for any," answered the lad with a rosy blush.
"Well, you were entitled after the first month to twenty dollars. Why! you could hardly pay your board upon that; and Clarkson tells me you supported your mother too. Then the salary of a clerk competent to keep the accounts, ought to be at the least six hundred dollars a year; and you acted in that capacity for three months. Well, there is your pay. You needn't trouble yourself to count it over," as the youth, hardly, knowing what he was about, began to fumble among the bills. "Come, put it away. It isn't civil to be settling accounts in the presence of ladies."
"But really, sir," exclaimed Harrison, "I never expected one cent beyond the sum for which I was engaged; and setting aside the dreadful feeling that injustice would be committed, unless I contrived some way to prevent it, I learned enough of business in the store to satisfy me fully for my extra labor."