Adventures of a Telegraph Boy or 'Number 91'. Horatio Alger Jr.
admitted him. This time she received him with a smile, knowing that he stood high with her mistress.
“Come right in,” she said. “The mistress will see you in the sitting room.”
“Have you had any more visits from burglars?” asked Paul.
“No; may be they’re waiting till night.”
“Has Mr. Cunningham got back?”
“No, but he’s expected at eight.”
Paul was glad to hear this, for he preferred not to remain over night, as he knew that old Jerry would need him.
When Paul entered the sitting room Mrs. Cunningham received him cordially.
“I suppose you have not seen the burglar since,” said Mrs. Cunningham, innocently.
She little dreamed what a discovery he had made, and he did not think it wise to enlighten her.
“He has not called upon me,” answered Paul, with justifiable evasion. “I don’t think I want to meet him again.”
“I hope he will never present himself here,” said the lady.
“He made me a promise that he would not,” said Paul.
“I suppose he wouldn’t mind breaking it.”
“No, but he may conclude that you would be on your guard.”
“There is something in that,” said Mrs. Cunningham, looking relieved. “My husband has telegraphed me that he will be here at eight o’clock, but I don’t want him to run the risk of encountering such a man.”
“Then you won’t need me to remain here?”
“No; but I wish you to stay till Mr. Cunningham returns. He will wish to see you.”
“Certainly, if you desire it,” said Paul, politely.
“My daughter will entertain you,” continued the lady. “Here she is.”
“Good evening, Paul!” said Jennie, cordially extending her hand, as she entered the room.
“Good evening!” responded Paul, brightening up.
“Would you like to play a game of dominoes?”
“I would be very glad to do so.”
“Then we’ll play ‘muggins.’ There’s more fun in that than in the regular game.”
So the two sat down and were soon deeply immersed in the game.
“Do you know, Paul,” said Jennie, suddenly, “I feel as if I had known you for a long time, though it is only about twenty four hours since we met.”
“I feel the same,” said Paul.
“I’m awfully glad they sent you here instead of some other telegraph boy.”
“Perhaps you would have liked another one better?”
“I don’t think I should, but I ought not to say so. It may make you vain.”
“Are boys ever vain? I thought it was only girls.”
“That’s a very impolite speech. I shall have to give you a bad mark!”
“Then I’ll take it all back!”
“You’d better,” said Jennie, with playful menace. “I hope you’ll come up some time when you are not sent for on business!”
“I would like to very much, if your mother is willing.”
“Why shouldn’t she be willing?”
“I am only a poor telegraph boy.”
“I don’t mind that. I don’t see why a telegraph boy isn’t as good as a boy in a store. My cousin Mark is in a store.”
It will be seen that these young people were rapidly coming to a very good understanding. Paul was not in love, but he certainly did consider Jennie Cunningham quite the nicest girl he had ever met.
So the time passed till Mr. Cunningham returned. His wife informed him briefly of what had occurred. They both entered the room together. He was a man of middle age, a very pleasant and easy mannered gentleman.
“Are you the boy who drove away the burglar?” he asked, with a smile.
“Yes, sir, I believe so,” answered Paul.
“Then let me add my thanks to those of my wife. You have done us a great service.”
“I am very glad to have had the chance,” said Paul.
“If you will come to my office tomorrow morning,” continued Mr. Cunningham, “I will thank you in a more effective way. Come at ten o’clock. As you may find it difficult to leave the office otherwise, tell the superintendent that I have an errand for you.”
“Very well, sir.”
“Here is my business card.”
Paid took the card and rose to go.
“Mamma,” said Jennie, “can’t you invite Paul to call and see us sometimes?”
“Certainly,” said the lady, smiling. “After what he has done he ought to have the freedom of the house. We shall be glad to see you as a visitor, Paul,” she said, kindly.
Paul left the house in a flutter of pleasant excitement. He was quite determined to avail himself of an invitation so agreeable.
He crossed over to Third Avenue, and returned by the elevated railway to the home of old Jerry.
CHAPTER VIII
PAUL MOVES TO LUDLOW STREET
In the evening Paul found old Jerry anxiously awaiting him.
“Have you found a new room, Paul?” he asked, eagerly.
“I haven’t had time,” Paul answered, “but I’ll go at once and see about it.”
“James will be here tomorrow,” said the old man, nervously, “and I – I am afraid of him. He is a bad man. He wants me to give him money. You know I have no money, Paul?” he concluded with a look of appeal.
Now Paul knew that old Jerry had money, and he could not truthfully answer as the old man desired him.
“You say so, and that is enough,” he said.
“But it’s true,” urged Jerry, who understood the doubt in Paul’s mind. “How could I get any money? What you give me is all we have to live on.”
“That isn’t much, at any rate.”
“No, Paul, it isn’t much. Couldn’t you give me half a dollar more? Two dollars and a half are very little for me to live on and pay the rent,” whined the old man.
The appeal would have moved Paul if he had not suspected that the old man had a considerable sum of money laid away. As it was, it only disgusted him and made him feel angry at Jerry’s attempt to deceive him.
“Are you sure you get no money except what I give you?” he asked, pointedly.
“What do you mean, Paul?” demanded the old man, looking alarmed. “What gave you the idea that I had any other money?”
“At any rate,” said the telegraph boy, “you haven’t any money to throw away on this son of yours. I have no doubt he’s a bad man, as you say.”
“He was always bad and troublesome, James was,” said old Jerry. “He was always wanting money from the time he was a boy.”
“When he was a boy there was some reason for his asking it, but now he is a man grown, isn’t he?”
“Yes, yes.”
“How old is he?”
“James must be nigh upon thirty,” answered Jerry, after a little reflection. “You won’t hire too expensive a room, Paul?” he added. “You know we are poor, very poor!”
“Not