Dan, The Newsboy. Alger Horatio Jr.
understand," said Dan, coldly, for he suspected this to be a subterfuge.
"No, you don't understand," said Shorty, eagerly. "You think what I say is a sham, but you wouldn't if you knew all."
"If I knew all," repeated Dan, surprised.
"Yes, I shall have to tell you. I didn't mean to, but I don't want you to misunderstand me. The fact is, Dan," Shorty added, sheepishly, "I've got more than myself to provide for now."
"What? You don't mean to say?" ejaculated Dan.
"I was married yesterday, Dan," said the cigar dealer, almost apologetically, "and I've been buying furniture, and the fact is, I haven't got a cent to spare."
"Of course you haven't," said Dan. "I never dreamed of this. Is your wife—about your size?"
"No, Dan, she's rather tall. There she is, crossing the street. Do you see her?"
Dan looked, and saw a tall woman, of twenty-five or thereabouts, approaching the cigar stand. She was very plain, with a large mouth and a long, aquiline nose.
"That's my wife," said the cigar dealer, regarding his tall partner with evident pride. "Julia, my dear, this is my friend, Dan Mordaunt."
"Glad to see any friend of my husband," said the lady, in a deep, hoarse voice, which might have been mistaken for a man's. "He must come and see us."
"So I will, thank you," answered Dan, surveying the female grenadier with a wondering glance.
"We live at No. – Varick street, Dan, and I shall be very glad to see you any evening."
"By gracious!" said Dan to himself, "that's the queerest match I ever heard of. She might take Shorty up in her arms and carry him off. I don't think he'll beat her very often," and Dan smiled at the thought.
The morning wore away, and at eleven o'clock Dan had earned forty cents. He began to get discouraged. There didn't seem to be much prospect of raising the rent before twelve o'clock.
CHAPTER V.
EFFECTING A LOAN
As Dan stood on the sidewalk with his bundle of papers, and only forty cents toward the two dollars and a half required for the rent, he felt like many a business man who has a note to meet and not enough money on hand to pay it. Indeed, he was worse off, for generally business men have friends who can help them with a temporary loan, but Dan's friends were quite as poor as himself. One, however, Dick Stanton, a mere boy, had the reputation of being more saving than his companions. It was known that he had an account in the Bowery Savings Bank, and among the street boys he was considered wealthy.
"Perhaps I can borrow two dollars of him," thought Dan, as Dick passed him on his way to Canal street.
"I say, Dick," said Dan, "stop a minute. I want to speak to you."
"Go ahead, Dan."
"I want you to lend me two dollars. Our rent is due, and I can raise it all but that."
Dick shook his head, and was about to speak, when Dan said hurriedly, for he felt that it was his last chance:
"You needn't be afraid of me, Dick; I'll pay you sure, and give you more interest, too, than you get in the bank."
"I haven't got any money in the bank, Dan."
"You had last week," said Dan, suspiciously.
"So I had, but I haven't now."
"You don't want to lend—that's what's the matter."
"You are mistaken, Dan. I'm not a bit afraid of lending to you, but I have lent my money already."
"Who to?" asked Dan, ungrammatically, falling into a mistake made by plenty of greater age and better experience than himself. "Of course it isn't any of my business," he added, "if you don't want to tell."
"I don't mind telling you, Dan. I've lent it to my aunt. She's got two children, and a hard time to get along. Perhaps I shall never see it again, but I couldn't refuse her."
"Of course you couldn't," said Dan, heartily. "You've done right, and you won't be sorry for it. I wish I knew some way of making two dollars before twelve o'clock."
"Are you in urgent need of two dollars, my boy?" asked a pleasant voice.
Dan turned, and met the face of the stranger introduced in the first chapter.
"Yes, sir," he answered. "I want it the worst way."
"Have you been extravagant and run up bills, Dan?"
"No, sir; the only bill we have is the rent, and that comes due this noon."
"How much is it?"
"Six dollars, sir."
"I thought you said you wanted to borrow two dollars."
"I've got four dollars toward it, sir."
"Do you often fall behind when rent day comes, Dan?"
"No, sir; this is the first time in two years."
"How do you account for it? Has business been duller than usual during the last month?"
"Yes, sir, I think it has. There hasn't been as much news in the papers, and my sales have fallen off. There's another thing, too."
"What is that?"
"Mother has a dollar and twenty cents due her, and she can't collect it."
"Is it for making vests?"
"Yes, sir. Mr. Gripp won't pay till she has made a full dozen."
"That seems inconsiderate."
"Oh, he's a mean fellow."
"I've a great mind to buy the debt of you."
"I wish you would, sir," said Dan, eagerly. "That would leave only sixty cents short, for I shall make ten cents more before twelve o'clock, it's likely."
"It is only half-past eleven. To put you quite at ease, I mean to lend you five dollars, and help you collect your mother's bill."
"You are very kind, sir," said Dan, surprised and grateful; "but I don't need so much."
"You may get short again when I am not here to assist you."
"Are you not afraid I shall never pay you, sir?"
"That thought won't keep me awake nights," said the gentleman, laughing.
"You sha'n't lose anything by me, sir; I promise you that," said Dan, earnestly.
"Then come into the hotel with me, and we will arrange the matter in a business-like way."
"All right, sir."
Dan followed his new friend into the Astor House, and up stairs into a pleasant bedroom, which in its comfortable apartments reminded Dan of the days before his father's failure.
"I wish I could live so again," he thought. "I don't like a tenement-house."
Mr. Grant—for this was his name—took writing materials from his valise, and seated himself at a table.
"I am going to draw up a note for you to sign," he said. "I probably understand better than you the necessary form."
"Thank you, sir."
His pen ran rapidly over the paper, and in a minute or two he handed Dan the following form of acknowledgment:
"New York, Sept. 15, 18—.
"For value received I promise to pay to Alexander Grant five dollars on demand with interest."
"Now," said Mr. Grant, "put your name at the bottom."
Dan did so.
"I added 'with interest,' but only as a form; I shall require none."
"I would rather pay it, sir."
"That may be as you please. How much will six per cent. interest make it amount to in a year?"
"Five dollars and thirty cents," answered Dan, promptly.
"Good! I see you have not forgotten what you learned in school."
"I