Horatio Alger - Dan, The Newsboy

"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 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.

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."