Horatio Alger - Cast Upon the Breakers

“You won’t want to wear them when at work. But wouldn’t you like to change your business?”

“Yes.”

“Have you ever tried?”

“What’d be the use of tryin’? They’d know I was a bootblack in these clo’es.”

“When you wear a better suit you can go round and try your luck.”

“I’d like to,” said Mike wistfully. “I don’t want you to tell at the store that you room with a bootblack.”

“It isn’t that I think of, Mike. I want you to do better. I’m going to make a man of you.”

“I hope you are. Sometimes I’ve thought I’d have to be a bootblack always. When do you think you’ll get the clo’es?”

“I shall write to the principal of the boarding school at once, asking him to forward my trunk by express. I want to economize a little this week, and shall have to pay the express charges.”

“I’ll pay up my part of the rent, Rodney, a quarter a day.”

Rodney had advanced the whole sum, as Mike was not in funds.

“If you can’t pay a dollar a week I will pay a little more than half.”

“There ain’t no need. I’ll pay my half and be glad to have a nice room.”

“I’ve got three or four pictures at the school, and some books. I’ll send for them later on, and we’ll fix up the room.”

“Will you? We’ll have a reg’lar bang up place. I tell you that’ll be better than livin’ at the Lodge.”

“Still that seems a very neat place. It is lucky for poor boys that they can get lodging so cheap.”

“But it isn’t like havin’ a room of your own, Rodney. I say, when we’re all fixed I’ll ask some of me friends to come in some evenin’ and take a look at us. They’ll be s’prised.”

“Certainly, Mike. I shall be glad to see any of your friends.”

It may seem strange that Rodney, carefully as he had been brought up, should have made a companion of Mike, but he recognized in the warm hearted Irish boy, illiterate as he was, sterling qualities, and he felt desirous of helping to educate him. He knew that he could always depend on his devoted friendship, and looked forward with pleasure to their more intimate companionship.

After selecting their room and making arrangements to take possession of it, the boys went down town. Rodney stepped into the reading room at the Astor House and wrote the following letter to Dr. Sampson:

DR. PLINY SAMPSON:

DEAR SIR—Will you be kind enough to send my trunk by express to No. 312 Bleecker Street? I have taken a room there, and that will be my home for the present. I have obtained a position in a wholesale house on Reade Street, and hope I may give satisfaction. Will you remember me with best wishes to all the boys? I don’t expect to have so easy or pleasant a time as I had at school, but I hope to get on, and some time—perhaps in the summer—to make you a short visit.

Yours truly, RODNEY ROPES.

A little before half past nine Rodney paused in front of a large five story building on Reade Street occupied by Otis Goodnow.

He entered and found the first floor occupied by quite a large number of clerks and salesmen, and well filled with goods.

“Well, young fellow, what can I do for you?” asked a dapper looking clerk.

“I would like to see Mr. Goodnow.”

“He’s reading his letters. He won’t see you.”

Rodney was provoked.

“Do you decide who is to see him?” he asked.

“You’re impudent, young feller.”

“Am I? Perhaps you will allow Mr. Goodnow to see me, as long as he told me to call here this morning.”

“That’s a different thing,” returned the other in a different tone. “If you’re sure about that you can go to the office in the back part of the room.”

Rodney followed directions and found himself at the entrance of a room which had been partitioned off for the use of the head of the firm.

Mr. Goodnow was seated at a desk with his back to him, and was employed in opening letters. Without turning round he said, “Sit down and I will attend to you in a few minutes.”

Rodney seated himself on a chair near the door. In about ten minutes Mr. Goodnow turned around.

“Who is it?” he asked.

“Perhaps you remember telling me to call at half past nine. You saw me at the Newsboys’ Lodging House.”

“Ah, yes, I remember. I promised my friend Mulgrave that I would give you a place. What can you do? Are you a good writer?”

“Shall I give you a specimen of my handwriting?”

“Yes; sit down at that desk.”

It was a desk adjoining his own.

Rodney seated himself and wrote in a firm, clear, neat hand:

“I will endeavor to give satisfaction, if you are kind enough to give me a place in your establishment.”

Then he passed over the paper to the merchant.

“Ah, very good!” said Mr. Goodnow approvingly. “You won’t be expected to do any writing yet but I like to take into my store those who are qualified for promotion.”

He rang a little bell on his desk.

A boy about two years older than Rodney answered the summons.

“Send Mr. James here,” said the merchant.

Mr. James, a sandy complexioned man, partially bald, made his appearance.

“Mr. James,” said the merchant, “I have taken this boy into my employ. I don’t know if one is needed, but it is at the request of a friend. You can send him on errands, or employ him in any other way.”

“Very well, sir. I can find something for him to do today at any rate, as young Johnson hasn’t shown up.”

“Very well. Whats your name, my lad?”

“Rodney Ropes.”

“Make a note of his name, Mr. James, and enter it in the books. You may go with Mr. James, and put yourself at his disposal.”

Rodney followed the subordinate, who was the head of one of the departments, to the second floor. Here Mr. James had a desk.

“Wait a minute,” he said, “and I will give you a memorandum of places to call at.”

In five minutes a memorandum containing a list of three places was given to Rodney, with brief instructions as to what he was to do at each. They were places not far away, and fortunately Rodney had a general idea as to where they were.

In his search for positions he had made a study of the lower part of the city which now stood him in good stead.

As he walked towards the door he attracted the attention of the young clerk with whom he had just spoken.

“Well, did you see Mr. Goodnow?” asked the young man, stroking a sickly looking mustache.

“Yes.”

“Has he taken you into the firm?”

“Not yet, but he has given me a place.”

The clerk whistled.

“So you are one of us?” he said.

“Yes,” answered Rodney with a smile.

“Then you ought to know the rules of the house.”

“You can tell me later on, but now I am going out on an errand.”

In about an hour Rodney returned. He had been detained at two of the places where he called.

“Do you remember what I said?” asked the young clerk as he passed.

“Yes.”

“The first rule of the establishment is for a new hand to treat ME on his first day.”

“That’s pretty good for you,” said Rodney, laughing; “I shall have to wait till my pay is raised.”

About the middle of the afternoon, as Rodney was helping to unpack a crate of goods, the older boy whom he had already seen in the office below, walked up to him and said, “Is your name Ropes?”

“Yes.”

“You are wanted in Mr. Goodnow’s office.”

Rodney went down stairs, feeling a little nervous. Had he done wrong, and was he to be reprimanded?

He could think of nothing deserving censure. So far as he knew he had attended faithfully to all the duties required of him.