Dan, The Newsboy. Alger Horatio Jr.
have ciphered through cube root," said Dan, with some pride. "I am not sure whether I remember that now, but I could do any sum in square root."
"It is a pity you could not have remained in school."
"I should like to; but it's no use crying for spilt milk."
"As long as you didn't spill it yourself," added Mr. Grant.
"No, sir; it was not my fault that I had to leave school."
Mr. Grant folded up the note and carefully deposited it in his wallet.
"The next thing is to hand you the money," he said. "Shall I give you a five-dollar bill, or small bills?"
"Small bills, sir, if it is just as convenient."
Mr. Grant placed in Dan's hands two two-dollar bills and a one.
"One thing more," he said. "Give me an order on Mr. Gripp for the money due your mother. It is as well to have it in your own handwriting. I won't tell you how to write it. See if you can find a way."
Dan wrote an order, which Mr. Grant pronounced satisfactory.
"On the whole," said he, "I believe I will take you with me when I call upon Mr. Gripp. Can you call here at three o'clock this afternoon?"
"Yes, sir."
"That is settled, then. We will see whether Mr. Gripp will be any more polite to me than he was to you."
"He will be surprised to see me in your company," said Dan, laughing.
"It is a good thing to surprise the enemy, Dan. A surprise often leads to victory. When does your landlord call for his rent?"
"Between twelve and one."
"Then I won't detain you longer. Remember your appointment at three."
"I won't forget it, sir."
"Well, I'm in luck!" said Dan to himself, as he emerged into the street. "Who would have thought that a stranger would lend me so large a sum? He's a trump, and no mistake. Now, if I could only sell the four papers I have left before twelve o'clock. I don't want to get stuck on them."
Fortune was not tired of favoring Dan. In ten minutes he had sold his papers, and turned his steps toward the humble home where his mother was awaiting, not without anxiety, the visit of an unamiable landlord.
CHAPTER VI.
MORE THAN A MATCH
Mrs. Mordaunt looked up anxiously as Dan entered the room. She had little expectation that he had been able in one morning to make up the large deficiency in the sum reserved for the rent, but there was a possibility, and she clung to that. Dan thought of postponing the relation of his good news, but when he saw his mother's anxious face, he felt that it would be cruel.
So when she said, "Well, Dan?" he nodded his head cheerfully.
"I've got it, mother," he said.
"Thank God for all His goodness!" ejaculated Mrs. Mordaunt, fervently.
"You see He hasn't forgotten us," said Dan, gleefully.
"No, my boy, it is a rebuke to my momentary want of faith. How could you raise so large a sum? Surely you did not earn it in one forenoon?"
"You're right there, mother. I'm not smart enough to earn two dollars before twelve o'clock."
"But you've got the money, Dan?"
"Look at this, mother," and Dan displayed the bills.
"Where did you get them, Dan?" asked his mother, astonished.
"I borrowed them."
"I didn't know we had a friend left, able or willing to lend us that sum."
"I borrowed them of Alexander Grant, of St. Louis, and gave my note for them," answered Dan, in a tone of some importance.
"Alexander Grant, of St. Louis! I don't remember that name."
"He's a new friend of mine, mother. I haven't known him over twenty-four hours. As the old friends have treated us so badly, I'm goin' in for new ones."
"You quite mystify me, Dan. Tell me all about it."
Dan did so.
"He's very kind to a stranger, Dan. Heaven will reward him, I am sure."
"I hope it will, mother. I wish I was a rich man. I should enjoy helping those who needed it. If I ever get rich—though it doesn't look much like it now—I will do all the good I can. I wonder rich men don't do it oftener."
"It springs from thoughtlessness sometimes, Dan."
"And from selfishness pretty often," added Dan, whose views of human nature were considerably less favorable than they had been in his more prosperous days. "A good many men are like Tom Carver, as he is now and will be when he is grown up."
"Perhaps there are more good and generous men than we suppose, Dan," urged his mother, who liked to think well of her fellow-beings.
"Like Mr. Gripp and our landlord, for instance. By the way, I hear Mr. Grab's steps on the stairs. I want to deal with him. Just you step into the bedroom, mother."
Mrs. Mordaunt had no desire to meet Mr. Grab, but she was a little afraid of Dan's impetuous temper.
"You will treat him respectfully, won't you, Dan?" she urged, as she turned to go into the adjoining room.
Dan's eyes danced with fun.
"I'll treat him with all the respect he deserves, mother," he answered.
Mrs. Mordaunt looked a little doubtful, for she understood Dan, but did not say more, for Mr. Grab was already knocking at the door.
"Don't come out, whatever you hear, mother," said Dan, in a low voice. "I'll come out all right, though I shall tantalize him a little at first."
The knock was repeated.
"Come in!" Dan called out, in a loud, clear tone.
The door opened, and a thin, undersized man, with bushy red hair and the look of a cross mastiff, entered the room.
Before his entrance Dan had seated himself in the plain wooden rocking-chair with his feet on a cricket. He looked quite easy and unconcerned.
"How are you, Grab?" he said, in a friendly manner.
"You might call me Mr. Grab," returned the landlord, angrily.
"I've no objection, I'm sure, Mr. Grab," said Dan. "How is your health? You're looking very yellow. Got the jaundice?"
"I am perfectly well, and I am not yellow at all. Do you mean to insult me?" demanded Grab, irritated.
"I wouldn't do that for a cent, Mr. Grab. I am glad you feel well, though you ain't looking so. It's very friendly of you to come round to see me and mother."
"Where is your mother?" snapped Mr. Grab.
"She is engaged just now, and won't have the pleasure of seeing you."
"But I must see her."
"Must! You are quite mistaken. You can't see her. You can see me."
"I've seen more of you than I want to already," said Grab.
"That isn't talking like a friend, Mr. Grab," said Dan, "when I'm so glad to see you. Perhaps you have come on business."
"Of course I have come on business, and you know very well what that business is, you young monkey."
"Thank you, Mr. Grab, you are very complimentary. It isn't about the rent, is it?"
"Of course it is!" snapped the landlord.
"Oh, dear, how could I have forgotten that it was rent-day," said Dan, with well-feigned confusion.
Mr. Grab's brow grew dark. He concluded that he wasn't going to collect the rent, and that always chafed him.
"It's your business to know when rent-day comes," he said, bringing down his fist with such emphasis on the table that he hurt his knuckles, to Dan's secret delight.
"Please