Horatio Alger - Mark Mason's Victory

"Look, father!" cried Edgar in excitement "Mark Mason is riding in that cab."

"So he is!" echoed Mr. Talbot in surprise.

Catching their glance, Mark smiled and bowed. He could understand their amazement, and he enjoyed it.

Mechanically Mr. Talbot returned the salutation, but Edgar closed his lips very firmly and refused to take any notice of his cousin.

"I don't understand it," he said to his father, when the cab had passed. "Doesn't it cost a good deal to ride in a cab in New York?"

"Yes. I never rode in one but once, and then I had to pay two dollars."

"And yet Mark Mason, who is little more than a beggar, can afford to ride! And last evening he was at the theater in company with a fashionable young lady. Telegraph boys must get higher pay than he said."

"Perhaps, Edgar," suggested his father with an attempt at humor, "you would like to become a telegraph boy yourself."

"I'd scorn to go into such a low business."

"Well, I won't urge you to do so."

Meanwhile Mark continued on his way in the cab. As he passed City Hall Park Tom Trotter, who had just finished shining a gentleman's boots, chanced to look towards Broadway. As he saw his friend Mark leaning back in the cab, his eyes opened wide.

"Well, I'll be jiggered!" he exclaimed. "How's that for puttin' on style? Fust thing you know Mark Mason will have his name down wid de Four Hundred!"

It did not occur to Mark to look at the paper given him by Mr. Rockwell till he got out of the cab.

This was what he read:

Mr. Nichols: Give this boy ten dollars.

Luther Rockwell.

His eyes flashed with delight.

"This is a lucky day!" he exclaimed. "It's worth while running the risk of being blown up when you're so well paid for it."

Nichols, the chief clerk, at once complied with his employer's directions.

"You're a brave boy, 79," he said. "If it hadn't been for you, we'd all have been blown higher than a kite. How did you leave Mr. Rockwell?"

"He seems pretty well upset," answered Mark.

"No wonder; he's an old man. I don't mind saying I was upset myself, and I am less than half his age. You were the only one of us that kept his wits about him."

"Somehow I didn't think of danger," said Mark. "I was considering how I could get the better of the crank."

"You took a great risk. If the valise had fallen, we'd have all gone up," and he pointed significantly overhead. "I am glad Mr. Rockwell has given you something. If he had given you a hundred dollars, or a thousand, it wouldn't have been too much."

"He told me to call at the office next week."

"Don't forget to do it. It will be to your interest."

While Mark was passing through these exciting scenes Mrs. Mason went about her daily duties at home, anxiously considering how the rent was to be paid on the following day. Mark had not told her of his gift from Maud Gilbert, intending it as a surprise.

As she was washing the breakfast dishes, there was a little tap at the door. To her surprise, the visitor turned out to be Mrs. Mack, of the floor above, to whom Mark had applied for a loan without success. As Mrs. Mack seldom left her room Mrs. Mason regarded her with surprise.

"Come in and sit down, Mrs. Mack," she said kindly.

She had no regard for the old woman, but felt that she deserved some consideration on account of her great age.

Mrs. Mack hobbled in and seated herself in a rocking-chair.

"I hope you are well," said Mrs. Mason.

"Tollable, tollable," answered the old woman, glancing curiously about the room, as if making an inventory of what it contained.

"Can't I give you a cup of tea? At your age it will be strengthening."

"I'm not so very old," said the old woman querulously. "I'm only seventy-seven, and my mother lived to be eighty-seven."

"I hope you will live as long as you wish to. But, Mrs. Mack, you must make yourself comfortable. Old people live longer if they live in comfort. Will you have the tea?"

"I don't mind," answered Mrs. Mack, brightening up at the prospect of this unwonted luxury.

She did not allow herself tea every day, on account of its cost. There are many foolish people in the world, but among the most foolish are those who deny themselves ordinary comforts in order to save money for their heirs.

The tea was prepared, and the old woman drank it with evident enjoyment.

"Your boy came up yesterday to borrow three dollars," she began then, coming to business.

"Yes, he told me so."

"He said he'd pay me Saturday night."

"Yes, he gets two weeks' pay then."

"I – I was afraid he might not pay me back and I can't afford to lose so much money, I'm a poor old woman."

"Mark would have paid you back. He always pays his debts."

"Yes; I think he is a good boy. If I thought he would pay me back. I – I think I would lend him the money. He offered to pay me interest."

"Yes; he would pay you for the favor."

"If – if he will pay me four dollars on Saturday night I will lend him what he wants."

"What!" ejaculated Mrs. Mason, "Do you propose to ask him a dollar for the use of three dollars for two or three days?"

"It's – it's a great risk!" mumbled Mrs. Mack.

"There is no risk at all. To ask such interest as that would be sheer robbery. We are poor and we can't afford to pay it."

"I am a poor old woman."

"You are not poor at all. You are worth thousands of dollars."

"Who said so?" demanded Mrs. Mack in alarm.

"Everybody knows it."

"It's – it's a-mistake, a great mistake. I – I can't earn anything, I'm too old to work. I don't want to die in a poor-house."

"You would live a great deal better in a poor-house than you live by yourself. I decline your offer, Mrs. Mack. I would rather pawn my wedding ring, as I proposed to Mark. That would only cost me nine cents in place of the dollar that you demand."

The old woman looked disappointed. She had thought of the matter all night with an avaricious longing for the interest that she expected to get out of Mark, and she had no thought that her offer would be declined.

"Never mind about business, Mrs. Mack!" said Mrs. Mason more kindly, as she reflected that the old woman could not change her nature. "Won't you have another cup of tea, and I can give you some toast, too, if you think you would like it."

An expression of pleasure appeared on the old woman's face.

"If – it's handy," she said. "I don't always make tea, for it is too much trouble."

It is safe to say that Mrs. Mack thoroughly enjoyed her call, though she did not effect the loan she desired to make. When she rose to go, Mrs. Mason invited her to call again.

"I always have tea, or I can make it in five minutes," she said.

"Thank you kindly, ma'am; I will come," she said, "if it isn't putting you to too much trouble."

"Mother," said Edith, after the visitor had hobbled up-stairs, "I wouldn't give tea to that stingy old woman."

"My dear child, she is old, and though she is not poor, she thinks she is, which is almost as bad. If I can brighten her cheerless life in any way, I am glad to do so."

About one o'clock a knock was heard at the door. Mrs. Mason answered it in person, and to her surprise found in the caller a brisk-looking young man, with an intelligent face. He had a note-book in his hand.

"Is this Mrs. Mason?" he inquired.

"Yes, sir."

"Your son is a telegraph boy?"

"Yes."

"No. 79?"

"Yes, sir. Has anything happened to him?" she asked in quick alarm.

"I bring no bad news," answered the young man with a smile. "Have you a photograph or even a tintype of your son, recently taken?"

"I have a tintype taken last summer at Coney Island."

"That will do. Will you lend it to me till to-morrow?"