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Three People

<h2>CHAPTER XVI.</h2> <h3>PLEDGES AND PARTNERSHIPS.</h3> <div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/t.png" width-obs="18" height-obs="55" alt="T" title="T" /></div> <div class='unindent'> <big>HERE</big> was a little bit of a white house, cunning and cozy, nestled in among the larger ones, on a quiet, pleasant street of the city. It was a warm June day, and the side door was open, which gave one a peep into a dainty little dining-room. There was a bright carpet on the floor, a green-covered table between the windows, with books and papers scattered about on it in the way which betokens use and familiarity instead of show. The round table was set for three, and ever and anon a dear little old woman bustled in from the bit of a kitchen and added another touch to the arrangements for dinner. A young miss of perhaps sixteen was curled in a corner of the lounge, working rapidly and a little nervously with slate, and pencil, and brain. The side gate clicked, and a young man came with quick decided tread up the flower-bordered walk. The student raised her eyes and found her voice:[196]</div> "Oh, Theodore! for pity's sake see what is the matter with this example? I've worked it over so many times that the figures all dance together, and don't seem to mean anything." "What is it? Algebra?" And the young man laid his cap on the table, tossed the curls back from his forehead, and sat down beside her. "Yes, it's algebra, and I'm thoroughly bewildered. Do you believe I ever will know much about it, Theodore?" "Why, certainly you will. You're a good scholar now, if you wouldn't get into such a flurry, and try to add and multiply and divide all at once. See here, you've used the wrong terms twice, and that is the sum and substance of your entire trouble." Winny looked a little perplexed and a little annoyed, and then laughed. "Have patience with your bundle of stupidity, Theodore," she said, half deprecatingly. "I may do you credit yet some day, improbable as it looks." And then the dear old lady, who had been trotting back and forth at intervals, now ushered in a teapot and called them to dinner; and they three sat down, and heads were reverently bowed while the young man reverently said: "Our Father, we return thee thanks for these,[197] and all the unnumbered blessings of this day. May we use the strength which thou dost give us to thine honor and thy praise." And the old lady softly said, "Amen." I do not know that you have ever heard the dear old lady's name, but it was McPherson—Mrs. McPherson. Of course you remember Winny, and the young man was the person who used to be familiarly known by the name of Tode Mall, but it was long since it had occurred even to him that he was ever other than Theodore Mallery, the enterprising young proprietor of that favorite refreshment-room down by the depot; for the dry-goods box had disappeared, so also had the cellar rum-hole. There was a neat building down there, the name, "Temperance House," gleamed in large letters from the glass of both windows, and "Theodore S. Mallery" shone over the door. Within all was as neat and complete as care and skill and grace could make it; and that it was a favorite resort could be seen by standing for a few moments to watch the comers and goers at almost any hour in the day. Theodore came down the street with his peculiar rapid tread, glanced in to see if his brisk little assistant was in attendance, then went across the street and around the corner to a grocery near at hand.[198] "Mr. Parks," he said, speaking as one in the habit of being full of business and in haste, "can you cash this note for me? Good afternoon, Mr. Stephens," to that gentleman, who stood in a waiting attitude. "Yes," said Mr. Parks, promptly, "if you will count this roll of bills for me. I'm one of those folks that I've read about who 'count for confusion,' I guess. Anyhow, these come different every time." "With pleasure, sir," answered Theodore, seizing upon the bills with alacrity, and fluttering them through his fingers with the rapidity of thought. "Ninety-eight—seventy-three," he announced after a few seconds of flutter and rustle. "Are you sure?" "Quite." And again he ran over the notes, and announced the same result. "Thank you," said Mr. Parks, with a relieved air. And as Theodore gathered up his bills and vanished, the old gentleman looking after him said: "That's a smart chap, Mr. Stephens. I don't know his match anywhere around this city. True as steel every time, and just as sharp as steel any day." "Yes," answered Mr. Stephens, quietly. "I have heard of the young man before, and know something of his character."[199] Two hours afterward Theodore was reading a letter. It commenced: <div class="blockquot"> <div class="right"> "Private Office,      } "June 16, 18—.} </div> "My Dear Young Friend: "It is something over four years since you came to me one night with my ten-dollar bill, since which time my eyes have been on you. I did not present you with the bill then and there, as I was tempted to do. I am not one of the croakers who think it sinful to reward honesty. God rewards every day our efforts toward the right; but I think the reward can come too suddenly when man takes it into his own hands. I stayed my hand. I determined instead to keep you in view, and keep the helping hand stretched out, unseen by you; but ready to come to your aid in time of need. No such a time has come to you. The Lord evidently took you for his own, and gave his angels charge concerning you. I have watched and waited. I know all about your character, young man, and more about your education than you think. "As I said, your time of need, for which I have been waiting, has not come, but mine has. I need just such a young man as you—one who will be prompt, active and efficient. You know my place of business, and that I make few changes. I do not like the business you have[200] chosen. Keeping an eating saloon is a respectable employment, always provided that the business is respectably conducted, which yours has been. I do not doubt that you have done much good. You have fought the giant enemy of this present time nobly and well. But the business is not suited to your capacity, by which I mean that your capacity overruns the business. Your pet enemy needs fighting, not only with strong principles but with money, and a certain kind of business power, both of which I can put you in the way to gain more rapidly. "In short, if you choose to come to me as one of my confidential clerks, on a salary which I will name when I see you, and which shall rise as you rise, I shall be glad to talk with you this evening at eight o'clock. If you have no idea of making a change in business; if your present occupation suits you, I will not trouble you to make me any reply other than to return this communication to me through the post-office, and we will quietly let the matter drop. <div class='right'> "Yours truly, "John S. S. Stephens." </div> </div> Our young man caught his breath and held it in for a moment after reading this remarkable epistle. Yes, he knew Mr. Stephens' place of business very well indeed; it was the largest and finest mercantile house in the city; and to[201] be fairly launched forth in his employ, with a reasonable prospect of suiting him, was to be a possible millionaire. And to think that that fearful ten-dollar bill, which had made his cheeks burn so many, many times, was the means that had brought him such a letter as this. "All things work together for good to them—" Oh yes, he knew that verse, and believed it, too. But what a strange idea that Mr. Stephens should have been watching him, should have known so much about his affairs, and instinctively he ran over his life to see what things he could have done differently had he known that Mr. Stephens was watching. Then his face flushed as he thought of the All-seeing Eye that had been fixed on him night and day; then he held his head erect, and reminded himself that whatever Mr. Stephens might have seen to condemn, God knew his heart, knew that through many failures and constant blunders he had been honestly trying to follow his guide. But how strange that Mr. Stephens should suppose him fitted for a clerkship in his store. He tried to decide what would be expected of him, what he ought to know in order to be fitted for the position. Prices and positions of goods? About these he knew nothing, nor did his want of knowledge in this respect particularly disturb him; he knew perfectly well that he had a quick[202] eye and a quick memory, and a remarkably convenient determination to learn everything that could be learned in as short a space of time as possible. Book-keeping? How fortunate it was that he should have happened into Joe Brower's father's store just as Joe's father was giving his son a lesson in book-keeping, and that then and there had arisen his determination to study book-keeping, and that he had commenced it; and at first with a little of Joe's help, and then with a good deal of his father's, and finally with no help at all, he conquered it. Then what an extraordinary thing it was that he should have gone home to tea a little earlier than usual that evening three years ago, and so surprised Winny in the act of wiping away two tears, and found that they were shed because the dear mother couldn't possibly pay for the desire of Winny's heart, namely: French lessons; and that after much discussion and ex-postulation he should have been allowed to consecrate one of the ten piles, in which he always kept his money, to French lessons, and that he had begun at first for pure fun, and ended by working hard over the lessons, Winny, on her part, laboring earnestly to repeat in the evening just what she had learned during the day, until now after the lapse of three years he knew perfectly well that while he would undoubtedly[203] make a Frenchman wild with his attempts at pronunciation, yet the French letter would have to be very queerly written that he could not translate, and the message an exceedingly crooked one that he could not render into smoothly written French. But how did Mr. Stephens know all these things? Well, never mind. Only, he said with energy, there are some more things that I will know if I have the good fortune to get near that German clerk of his, and Winny shall have her chance at German yet. Callers found their usually brisk host almost inattentive during the remainder of that afternoon. About five o'clock he dispatched a note, addressed "J. H. McPherson, Euclid House," and astonished and delighted his young waiter by an unusually early putting up of shutters, and of putting things generally to rights for the night. In fact, it was not more than seven o'clock when Jim McPherson arrived and found his old-time companion alone and in waiting. "Halloo! What's up?" was his greeting. "You received my note?" "Yes, and have been dying of curiosity ever since to know what the 'important business intimately connected with' myself, could be about I thought at one time though, that I wasn't going to get away. All creation appeared to want[204] to take supper with us to-night. What are you all shut up so early for?" "Business. Jim, I have just the chance for you to get away from there." "How?" "Well," and then his companion launched forth in an account of his afternoon letter, and the prospects which were opening before him, and also his idea of the prospects which were opening before Jim. When he ceased, the said Jim gazed at him in silence for a moment, and then said: "And you offer me an out-and-out partnership?" "Out-and-out. You can come right in here and take the business just as it is, furniture and fixtures of all sorts, and from this time forth until we change our minds I'll pay half the expenses and share the profits. That is—well, there's only one proviso." "I thought there must be something somewhere. What is it?" "You know, Jim, this is a temperance business." "Of course. What's your proviso?" "You must sign the pledge." "Stuff and nonsense." "Very well, if that's your final answer we will drop the subject." "But, Tode, that's perfectly silly. Can't you[205] trust a fellow unless he puts his name to a piece of paper like a baby? I don't drink, and I won't sell rum here. What more do you want?" "<ins title="Transcriber's Note: original reads 'Wan't'">Want</ins> you to say so on paper." "What for?" "To gratify me perhaps. It isn't a great deal to do. If you mean what you say you can have no serious objection to doing so." "Yes, but I have. I don't approve of signing away my liberty in that style." "Who has been saying that to you?" asked Theodore, gravely. "Perhaps I said it myself." "I think not. I believe you, personally, have more sense." Whereat Jim laughed and looked a little ashamed. "No matter," he said at last, "I ain't going to sign a pledge for anybody, but I'm willing to get out of that business. I don't like making drunkards any better than you do, and I should have quit before if I could have seen any chance just on mother's account, but I never expected an offer like this." To all of which Theodore made answer only by setting himself comfortably back in his arm-chair, pushing a fruit-basket toward his companion, and saying: "Have a pear, Jim?"[206] Then the talk drifted on to pears and peaches, and divers other fruits, until Jim said: "Come, let's talk business." Theodore opened his eyes large, and looked inquiring. "I thought we were done with business," he said, innocently. "Do you really mean that you withdraw your offer unless I will sign the pledge?" "Why certainly. I thought you understood that to be my proviso." "But, Tode, don't you think that is forcing a fellow?" "Not at all. You are perfectly free, of course, to do as you please. If you please to decline a good offer, merely because you won't promise not to drink what you say you don't drink, and not to sell what you say you don't want to sell, why that is your own matter, of course, and I can not help myself." Jim mused a little. "Well, you see," he said presently, "I do now and then take a drop of wine, not enough to amount to much, and I'm in no danger of doing it very often, for I honestly don't care much for it." "No. What then?" "Why, I'd have to stop that, of course, if I signed your pledge."[207] "Of course. What then?" "Why, then," and here Jim broke down and laughed, and finally added: "Tode, I wish you were not such an awful fanatic about this." "But since I am, what is to be done?" Silence fell between the two for a time, until Jim said with a little touch of disgust: "Tode, you're as set in your way as a stone wall." "All right. What is the conclusion of the whole matter?" "Oh fudge! bring on your pledge and give us a pen." Instantly a drawer from a side table was drawn energetically out, and pen, ink, and a veritable pledge were placed before the young man. A few quick dashes of the pen, and "James H. McPherson" stood out in plain relief under the strongly worded total abstinence pledge. His companion waited with flushing cheek and eager eyes until the last letter was written; then he sprang up with an energy that set the arm-chair upside down, and uttered a vehement: "Good! Jim, oh Jim, I could shout for joy. I have fairly held my breath for fear you would not reach the point." Jim laughed. "What a fanatic you are!" he said in a tone[208] of assumed carelessness. "How do you know I won't break it to-morrow?" "I know perfectly well. If I had not I should not have been so anxious to have you sign to-night. You happen to be as set in your way as an acre of stone fences." More talk ensued—eager, future plannings. Those two young men, very unlike in many respects, yet assimilated on a few strong points. Theodore had constantly kept a hold on his early friend—at first because of the dear old mother, and finally because his stronger nature drawing out and in a measure toning Jim's, the two had grown less apart than seemed at first probable. It wanted but twenty minutes to eight when the young men left the room where important business not only for time, but, as it came to pass, for eternity, had been settled, and hurried, the one to the Euclid House, and the other around the corner toward the great dry-goods house on the main business street. He stopped first though at the cozy little white house, moved with eager steps up the walk, flung open the side door, and spoke in tones full of suppressed excitement to the old lady, who was nodding over her large print Testament, Jim's birthday gift. "Grandma, I have a present for you." And a crisp paper was produced and laid on the page of the open Bible. A glance showed it to be a[209] temperance pledge—another look, a start, a filling of the dim old eyes with tears as the beloved name, James H. McPherson, swam before her vision, and true to her faith her loving voice gave utterance to her full heart: "'While they are yet speaking I will hear.' I was just speaking to him again, don't you think, about that very thing. Oh the Lord bless him and help him. Now, deary, we won't be content with this, will we?" Theodore shook his head emphatically. "He must come over entirely to the Lord's side," he said, smiling, "now that he has come half way." The city clock was giving the last stroke of eight as Theodore was ushered into the private office of Mr. Stephens. That gentleman arose to greet him with a smile of satisfaction, and then ensued another business talk, and the drift of it can be drawn from these concluding sentences: "Well, sir," from Mr. Stephens to Theodore, as the latter arose to go, "how soon may I expect you? How long is it going to take you to get your business in shape to leave? We need help as soon as possible." "I will be on hand to-morrow morning, sir." "What! ready for work? How is it possible that you have dispatched matters so rapidly?"[210] "Why," said Theodore, "from two o'clock until eight gives one six good hours in which to dispatch business." And Mr. Stephens, as they went down the great store together, smiled again and said to himself: "I don't believe I have mistaken my man." <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/deco4.png" width-obs="75" height-obs="36" alt="Decoration" title="Decoration" /></div> [211] <hr style="width: 65%;" /> <div style="break-after:column;"></div>

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