Books: Richard Dare\'s Venture
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Edward Stratemeyer >> Richard Dare\'s Venture
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By the above it is easy to see that Richard was now in earnest about
getting his father's pension money. Not only was he satisfied that
they were entitled to it, but just now when his mother and sisters
were struggling in Mossvale to make both ends meet, it was actually
needed.
During the time that he had been working Richard had sent home every
cent that he could spare. To be sure, the total amount had not been
large--only a few dollars--but in the country this went a long way,
and for it, as well as for the fact that it showed the son and brother's
willingness to help, those at home were extremely grateful.
It was dinner-time when Richard had finished writing out the
advertisement. Mrs. Massanet had prepared only a lunch, reserving a
regular meal for the evening.
After he had eaten the time hung heavy upon Richard's hands. He put
on his hat and sauntered down the street, and finally concluded to pay
a visit to his friends at the Watch Below. He had not seen Doc Linyard
since that visit to Frying Pan Court, and he was curious to know how
Tom Clover was, and if the property in England had been heard from
further.
It being the middle of the afternoon, trade at the small restaurant
was slack, and Richard found both the old sailor and his wife glad to
see him.
"Tom's mendin' fast," was the old sailor's reply to Richard's question
concerning the sick man. "We are goin' to bring him down here to-morrow
or the day after. He's in his bearings again--right mind, you know--and
I think as how the worst is over."
"And where is Pep?"
"Pep's to school; I sent him last week. He's got to have an eddication,
no two ways on it. Betty's goin' to manage it with Tom when he is
well."
"I am glad to hear that. And how about your property?"
"Oh, it's safe. Last week I run afoul of an old lawyer friend of mine--
saved his life onct in a blow off Cape Hatteras--and he's taken it in
tow. He's written to the lawyers on the tudder side and we're to fix
it up just as soon as Tom's strong enough to sign articles." "Good
enough," said Richard, heartily.
During the course of the conversation which followed he told Doc Linyard
of his hopes of finding some one who had known his father during the
war.
"Tom is an old soldier!" exclaimed Doc. "He took to the army and I
took to the navy."
"Is that so? What regiment was he in?"
"I don't know. He was in Boston at the time, and was drafted from
there."
"My father went from here. But he might he able to put me on some sort
of a track," added Richard, who was unwilling to let even the smallest
chance escape him.
"I'll ask him about it when he's strong enough. How much would the
pension money amount to?"
"Not less than a thousand dollars--perhaps twice that."
"Phew! It's worth workin' for."
"Yes, indeed!" put in Mrs. Linyard. "I hope you get it, Mr. Dare; you
deserve it."
When Richard returned to his boarding-place he met Frank Massanet at
the door. He could see by his friend's face that he had not met with
success.
"I tried twenty-six places," reported Frank. "Every one had all the
help needed. One man offered to put me on the road, selling goods on
commission, but I was to pay my own expenses. The offer didn't appear
good and I declined it. How did you make out?"
Richard told him. Of course Frank was surprised.
"It wasn't luck though," he said, "it was sticking to the principle
you started out on. I trust it is a sure thing. It will give you an
insight into the retail trade, so that you may start for yourself some
day. I would start in for myself to-morrow, if I had the capital."
"Do you understand the retail business?" asked Richard, with much
interest.
"Pretty well. Last year and around the holidays I tended during the
evenings for a firm on Fourteenth Street, and I had a good chance to
learn all the ins and outs. Besides, I was in the business when I went
to school--carrying papers and parcels between school-hours."
"How much would you need to start?"
"I've got six hundred dollars saved. If I had twice that I wouldn't be
afraid to hire a store and try it."
"Can't you raise the other?"
"I haven't tried yet. I would rather use my own money--or take a
partner, if I could find the right fellow."
"I'd like to go in with you," said Richard. "I think we would get along
first-rate together."
"I know we would," cried Frank, enthusiastically. "Can't you raise the
money?"
"I don't think I can. I'll think of it though."
CHAPTER XXX.
MR. MARTIN'S CLERKS.
The idea of some day going into partnership with Frank Massanet was
an attractive one to Richard. He felt that the stock-clerk would not
venture into business on his own account unless he was moderately
certain of success, and that would mean more money and a certain feeling
of independence.
Richard was up early on the following morning and on hand at Mr.
Martin's store long before that gentleman put in an appearance. He
found the place in charge of the boy, who was busy sorting out the
morning papers and folding them.
"I'm waiting for Mr. Martin," said Richard, by way of an explanation
for standing around.
"Are you the new clerk?" asked Philip Borne, for such was the boy's
name.
"I expect to be," replied Richard. "Did Mr. Martin say anything about
me?"
"Said he expected to see you this morning. He'll be here in about half
an hour. He's terribly worried over his son Jim, who's sick in
Philadelphia. The doctors telegraphed last evening that they were
afraid he couldn't live."
"It's too bad. I trust, for Mr. Martin's sake, they are mistaken."
In less than half an hour the proprietor put in an appearance. He
looked even more worried than the day previous.
"I am glad you are here, Dare," he said. "I saw Mr. Williams last night
and he gave you a good recommendation. But he was almost afraid you
had not had enough experience in the retail trade to take charge, which
just at present you would have to do, because I must go to Philadelphia
by the first afternoon train by the latest."
Richard's hopes fell.
"I will do the best I can, Mr. Martin," he said, earnestly. "Although
I'll admit I thought to come here only to help, and--"
"Yes, yes, I understand; and that is all right," interrupted the
storekeeper, hastily. "I expected to stay, up to last night, but now
I must go. If I could only get some one here besides you, some one who
understood customers. Phil can help some, but he is too young."
"I know the very person!" exclaimed Richard. "He has had just the
experience you desire, and I can get him at once, too."
And Richard told Mr. Martin about Frank Massanet.
"Ah, yes, Mr. Williams mentioned him to me. Do you think he can come
to-day?"
"Yes, sir. I'll go at once and find out."
"Do so; I'll promise that you shall lose nothing by it," returned Mr.
Martin.
In a moment Richard was on his way back to the house. He found Frank
just finishing breakfast.
"Why, what's up?" asked the stock-clerk. "What brings you back?"
"Nothing only--I've got a situation for you," replied Richard as coolly
as he could, although he could not suppress a hearty smile.
"A situation for me!" ejaculated Frank, in undisguised wonder. "Surely
you don't mean it!"
"Don't I though? Just come along and see."
"Where?"
"At Martin's."
"But I thought you had accepted--"
"One position. So I have, but there is another for you. Come along,
I'll tell you all about it on the way."
And Richard got Frank's hat and put it on his friend's head and had
him out on the street almost before he could realize it.
At Mr. Martin's store a general explanation followed, and Richard and
Frank were hired at a joint salary of sixteen dollars per week. They
were to have entire charge of the business, and with the aid of Phil
were to do the best they could until they heard from Mr. Martin again,
which the storekeeper hoped would be in a few days. The proprietor
spent an hour in giving all the instructions he could in that limited
time, and then, half distracted, hurried off to catch an early train
for Philadelphia.
"Well, this is a queer go, to say the least," exclaimed Richard, after
Mr. Martin had gone. "It's more like a dream than anything else."
"He would never do as he has--leave two entire strangers in charge of
his place--if he was not distracted by this bad news about his son,"
returned Frank; and he hit the exact truth.
"Well, now we are here, we must make the most of the opportunity,"
said Richard. "Let us consider ourselves partners and push _our_
business for all it is worth."
Both boys started in with a will. The first customer was a little girl,
and both Richard and Frank desired the honor of waiting upon her.
But the girl wanted a cent's worth of red chalk, and as neither could
find the article in demand the would-be purchaser was turned over to
Phil, who in turn handed the cash to Frank, while Richard gravely made
the entry upon the daily sales-book.
But the two set diligently at work, and by evening had the stock fairly
well located in mind and also the prices. During the day trade had
been fairly brisk, and when closing up time came they found they had
taken in twenty-eight dollars.
"I don't know if that's good or bad," said Richard. "We certainly sold
goods to all who wished them."
"The thing is to sell to those who don't know whether they want to buy
or not," observed Frank. "Still I guess twenty-eight dollars is fair
enough for Tuesday."
Both were on hand early next morning. According to Mr. Martin's
instructions the show-windows were emptied, and after they had been
cleaned, Frank, assisted by Richard, dressed them again.
Now, Mr. Martin's window dressing had always been of the plain, old-
fashioned kind, not altogether suited to the present times. He only
put in a few staple articles and left them unchanged for a long time.
But Frank Massanet proceeded on different lines, and when he and Richard
had finished the improvement was apparent. Nearly every class of goods
in the store was represented, and anything new or special was given
a prominent place.
"That looks hot," said Phil, who was given to slang. "Never saw it so
showy before."
And the many people who stopped to gaze at the display seemed to justify
his statement.
"How often should a window like that be cleaned?" asked Richard.
"At least once a week," replied Frank. "And twice a week is not too
much, if you have the time to spare."
Both Richard and Frank worked diligently all day. Of course many things
were strange to them, and they made some laughable blunders; but they
invariably took things so pleasantly that none of the customers seemed
to mind.
When night came they found that they had taken in five dollars more
than the day previous.
"It's on account of fixing up the window," said Richard.
"Partly that, and partly getting used to customers and the run of
stock," replied Frank.
They were soon on the way home. Richard had sent his letter to his
mother the day previous, and was now expecting one in return.
"Here is your usual letter," said Mattie Massanet, appearing at the
door.
"Thank you," replied Richard. "Excuse me if I look at it at once. I
want to see if it contains anything important."
Richard tore the letter open and began to read. His eyes had glanced
over scarcely a dozen lines when he uttered a cry of dismay.
And no wonder, for the communication contained the startling
intelligence that fire had visited Mossvale, the Dare cottage was
burned to the ground, and his mother and sisters were left without a
home.
CHAPTER XXXI.
TOM CLOVER'S STATEMENT.
The news from Mossvale was certainly a cruel blow to Richard, and, as
he read the letter written by his sister Nancy, his cheeks paled.
"What is it?" asked Frank, seeing that something was wrong. "No one
dead, I hope."
"No, not as bad as that," replied Richard faintly; "but bad enough.
Read it."
Frank took the letter and glanced at it hastily. The important passages
ran as follows:
"It is awful news. Our home is burned to the ground, and I am writing
this at Mrs. Wood's where we are all staying. The fire started in the
barn (we think a tramp must have done it), and the wind carried the
sparks over to the house, and in ten minutes it was all ablaze. It was
one o'clock at night, and no one was around to help us. Mother, Grace
and I saved all we could, but that was not much, because we did not
have time, and it got so awfully hot. When the fire was out, Charlie
made us all go over to his house, and sent a team over for what stuff
we had saved.
"Mother is awfully excited, and Grace is sick over it. Madge is all
right, and so am I. But I think it's awful, and I don't know what we
are going to do. Mrs. Wood and Charley, are very kind, but we can't
stay here very long, even if Grace is engaged to Charley.
"Mother says there is an insurance on the house and furniture for nine
hundred dollars, but she hasn't been able to find the papers yet, and
maybe they have been burned, too. If you can, come down right away.
I suppose they don't like to let clerks off in New York, but they ought
to make an exception in a case like this."
Frank handed the letter over to his sister Mattie.
"I'm sorry for you and your folks, Dick," he said earnestly. "Of course
you'll go at once."
"How can I?" replied Richard helplessly. "Mr. Martin will--"
"Never mind Mr. Martin," interrupted Frank. "Your first duty is to
your family. I'll get along as best I can, and I'll explain to Mr.
Martin if he gets back before you do."
"But what will you do for meals? You must have time to get them?" went
on Richard, anxious lest his friend should be assuming too much.
"He can take lunch along, and I'll bring him his dinner," put in Mattie.
"You go, Dick; your mother and your sisters need you."
Richard needed no further urging. Whatever Mattie said must certainly
be right. He glanced at the clock.
"Quarter to ten. I wonder when I can get a train?" he cried.
A consultation of a time-table showed that no train for Mossvale could
be had until nine-thirty the next morning.
"It's too bad!" he groaned. "I could have taken one just an hour ago
if I had known."
There was nothing to do, however, but wait, and so Richard retired
with the rest.
He passed a sleepless night, thinking over what had happened, and
trying to form some plan for the future. But he could arrive at no
conclusion, and found that he must wait until he had talked the matter
over with the others.
He was the first one up in the morning, and, having over three hours
yet to wait, took a walk around to the store to see what Phil was
doing.
"There is a telegram for you; just came," said the boy, and he handed
it over.
"More news from home," thought Richard. "But we have no telegraph
office. Wonder what it means?"
And he tore the telegram open.
It ran as follows:
"PHILADELPHIA, _June_ 28.
"RICHARD DARE:
"My son is dead. Close store until further orders.
"JONAS MARTIN."
Richard had just finished reading the dispatch when Frank came up.
"You are ahead of me," said Frank. "What have you there?"
"Word from Mr. Martin. His son is dead, and we are to close the store
until further notice."
Here was more sad news. Phil, who had known young Mr. Martin well, and
liked him, felt it the most.
"It will break old Mr. Martin all up," he said sadly. "He thought a
heap of his son. The two were alone in the world."
"I can get away easily enough now," said Richard, with a sorry little
laugh. "I won't hurry back as soon as I intended. You must write me
if anything turns up."
In less than an hour the store was closed up, a death notice pasted
on the door, and then Frank accompanied Richard down to the ferry.
On the corner of Liberty Street they met Pep, who started back in
surprise.
"I was just comin' up to see you!" he exclaimed to Richard. "My uncle
wants you to come right down!"
"Wants me to come down?" queried Richard. "What for?"
"Don't know exactly. Dad's there, and they both want to see you. You'd
better go right away; but maybe you _was_ going," added Pep suddenly.
"No, I wasn't. I was going to take a train home," replied Richard.
"Perhaps it's nothing in particular."
He had an hour before train time, and, accompanied by Frank, walked
down to the Watch Below.
Doc Linyard greeted him cordially. He was surprised to see Richard
dressed up, and grieved to learn of the cause.
"Well, I'm glad as how _I_ ain't got no bad news to tell you," said the
old sailor with a grin. "Tom Clover is upstairs, in his right mind, and
wants to see you."
"What about?" "Never mind, just go up," replied Doc.
On a comfortable bed, in an upper chamber, lay Tom Clover. Good care
and nursing had done wonders for the man, and when Richard looked at
him he could hardly realize that this was the miserable wretch he had
visited in the garret at Frying Pan Court.
"Here's Mr. Dare come to see you," said Doc Linyard, by way of an
introduction.
Tom Clover grasped Richard's hand tightly.
"Betty and Doc have told me all about you," he said in a somewhat
feeble voice. "I thank you more than I can put in words. Sit down; I
want to talk to you."
"I would like to, Mr. Clover, but I've got to catch a train for home
in three quarters of an hour," replied Richard. "I'll call as soon as
I get back."
"Just stay a little while," urged Doc Linyard. "Tom's got something
to say to you."
"Doc tells me your father was a soldier in the late war?" went on Tom
Clover.
"Yes, sir."
"Did he once live in Brooklyn?"
"Yes, sir. But--" and Richard paused, while his heart beat rapidly.
"And was his first name John?"
"Yes, sir--John Cartwell Dare. But why do you ask, Mr. Clover? Is it
possible that you knew him?"
Tom Clover raised himself up to a sitting position.
"Know him?" he cried. "We were bosom companions for eighteen months!
Why, I caught him in my arms the day he was shot!"
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE FIRM OF MASSANET AND DARE.
Tom Clover's unexpected statement was a revelation to Richard, and
subsequent questioning convinced the boy that all that Doc Linyard's
brother-in-law had said concerning the acquaintance with his father
was perfectly true.
It was a fact that Clover had been drafted in Boston, but during the
second year of his service his time had expired, and then he had
enlisted in a Brooklyn regiment, and become a member of the same company
to which Mr. Dare belonged.
"It seems too good to be true," cried Richard finally. "Perhaps Doc
has already told you of the pension we are trying to get."
"Yes, and I can witness the papers easily enough, and get several
others to, too, if it's necessary. Have you got them here in the city?"
"No; they are home. But I can soon get them, and either bring them or
send them on."
This was agreed to, and it was with a much lighter heart that Richard,
a quarter of an hour later, bade Frank good-by at the ferry.
"Send the papers to me," said Frank at parting. "I haven't anything
to do at present, and will attend to the affair with pleasure."
"Thank you, Frank, I will," was Richard's reply.
The journey to Mossvale was an uneventful one. When Richard reached
the Wood cottage all the family ran out to meet him, and in a second
his mother's arms were about his neck.
"I'm so glad you have come, Richard!" she cried. "We need you sadly."
Presently he was seated in the doorway, with little Madge on his knee,
and the others gathered around, and there he listened to all they had
to tell.
The insurance papers had been found, but Mrs. Dare was undecided whether
to rebuild or accept the cash.
"We could not get back such a nice home as we had for nine hundred
dollars," she said. "And, besides, Sandy Stone has offered me two
hundred dollars for the land, and that's a good price, Mr. Wood says."
"Did you save father's pension papers?"
"Yes. But why do you ask?" inquired Mrs. Dare, her curiosity aroused.
For reply Richard told the little party all about his strange meeting
with Tom Clover.
"He tells the truth!" cried Mrs. Dare. "I have heard your father mention
his name. Thank heaven for having brought you two together!"
And that night, even with all their troubles, the whole Dare family
rested without much worry beneath their kind neighbor's roof.
In the morning Richard sent the pension papers to Frank by the first
mail. Then he helped get what was left of their furniture into shape,
and took a walk over to what had been the old homestead.
Nothing remained but a heap of charred timbers and fallen stones.
"It's the ending of our life here in the country," he whispered to
himself. "God grant it may be the beginning of a more prosperous one
in the city."
At the close of the week came visitors--Frank, Doc Linyard, and a
strange gentleman, who was introduced as Mr. Styles, the old sailor's
lawyer friend.
"Mr. Styles says your claim is all right," said Doc Linyard, when
introductions all round were over. "He says as how you'll get
twenty-five hundred dollars afore three months are up."
It was glorious news.
"Sure?" asked Mrs. Dare, with tears in her eyes.
"Positive, madam," replied Mr. Styles. "I will buy the claim for two
thousand dollars if you need the money," he whispered.
"No, thank you; I can wait," she replied. "But I will pay you well for
what you have done for us," she added hastily.
"Avast there!" cried the old sailor. "Tom and I are going to settle
his claim. We're going to get our money in one month--two thousand
dollars each!"
A little while later Frank drew Richard to one side.
"I've heard from Mr. Martin," he said. "Since his son died he has lost
all interest in his business, and he wants to sell out and go back to
his family in England."
"Sell out?" repeated Richard in surprise. "It would be a good chance
for us."
"So I thought; a chance that may not happen again in a lifetime. He
has been established twelve years, and has a good run of trade. Last
year his sales amounted to twelve thousand dollars. The rent is only
seven hundred dollars a year, and he has a three years' lease."
"How much does he ask?"
"If he can sell out before the first he will do so at the cost of the
stock--fifteen hundred dollars. Now, by hard scraping I can raise half
of that, and if you can raise the other half, and a little extra
besides, I believe it will prove a good venture."
Richard thought a moment.
"If my mother will advance the money I'll do it," he replied.
* * * * *
Two years have passed.
As Mr. Styles had predicted, at the end of three months Mr. Dare's
pension money was in the widow's possession. Long before this, however,
Mrs. Dare sold her land in Mossvale, and removed with her family to
New York, having apartments adjacent to Mrs. Massanet, with whom she
was soon on intimate terms. She advanced the necessary money to Richard,
and he and Frank Massanet immediately bought out Mr. Martin's store
and set up business on their own account.
Doc Linyard and Tom Clover now run a prosperous hotel and restaurant
in the lower part of the city, where their old friends are always
welcome. Pep attends school regularly, and thoroughly appreciates his
improved condition in life.
Grace Dare has gone back to the country, and in her Charley Wood has
found an affectionate wife and a good housekeeper. Next month Nancy
is to become Mrs. Massanet. As for Mattie Massanet, she is often seen
to blush when Richard's name is mentioned, and rumor has it that she
will some day give her heart into the keeping of her brother's partner.
And Mr. Timothy Joyce? Only last week I met him at a Third Avenue
Elevated Station, looking as stout and hearty as ever.
"Just come down on the train," he replied, in answer to my question.
"Been making a call on Massanet & Dare, the stationers and booksellers.
They are young friends of mine, Dare especially, and I take a great
interest in them. Since they fixed up this spring they've got a fine
store, and I know they're doing first-rate. They deserve it,
too--working as hard as they do. They've got my best wishes for
success."
And ours, too; eh, reader?
THE END.
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