style="font-size:15px;"> "What is his name?" inquired Dick.
"My impression is, that he was named after his father, John Talbot. Indeed, I am quite sure that my daughter wrote me to this effect in a letter which I returned after reading."
"Have you reason to think he is in New York?"
"My information is, that his mother died here a year since. It is not likely that he has been able to leave the city."
"He is about ten years old?"
"I used to know most of the boot-blacks and newsboys when I was in the business," said Dick, reflectively; "but I cannot recall that name."
"Were you ever in the business, Mr. Hunter?" asked Mr. Bates, in surprise.
"Yes," said Richard Hunter, smiling; "I used to be one of the most ragged boot-blacks in the city. Don't you remember my Washington coat, and Napoleon pants, Fosdick?"
"I remember them well."
"Surely that was many years ago?"
"It is not yet two years since I gave up blacking boots."
"You surprise me Mr. Hunter," said Mr. Bates "I congratulate you on your advance in life. Such a rise shows remarkable energy on your part."
"I was lucky," said Dick, modestly. "I found some good friends who helped me along. But about your grandson: I have quite a number of friends among the street-boys, and I can inquire of them whether any boy named John Talbot has joined their ranks since my time."
"I shall be greatly obliged to you if you will," said Mr. Bates. "But it is quite possible that circumstances may have led to a change of name, so that it will not do to trust too much to this. Even if no boy bearing that name is found, I shall feel that there is this possibility in my favor."
"That is true," said Dick. "It is very common for boys to change their name. Some can't remember whether they ever had any names, and pick one out to suit themselves, or perhaps get one from those they go with. There was one boy I knew named 'Horace Greeley'. Then there were 'Fat Jack,' 'Pickle Nose,' 'Cranky Jim,' 'Tickle-me-foot,' and plenty of others.1 You knew some of them, didn't you, Fosdick?"
"I knew 'Fat Jack' and 'Tickle-me-Foot,'" answered Fosdick.
"This of course increases the difficulty of finding and identifying the boy," said Mr. Bates. "Here," he said, taking a card photograph from his pocket, "is a picture of my daughter at the time of her marriage. I have had these taken from a portrait in my possession."
"Can you spare me one?" asked Dick. "It may help me to find the boy."
"I will give one to each of you. I need not say that I shall feel most grateful for any service you may be able to render me, and will gladly reimburse any expenses you may incur, besides paying you liberally for your time. It will be better perhaps for me to leave fifty dollars with each of you to defray any expenses you may be at."
"Thank you," said Dick; "but I am well supplied with money, and will advance whatever is needful, and if I succeed I will hand in my bill."
Fosdick expressed himself in a similar way, and after some further conversation he and Dick rose to go.
"I congratulate you on your wealth, Fosdick," said Dick, when they were outside. "You're richer than I am now."
"I never should have got this money but for you, Dick. I wish you'd take some of it."
"Well, I will. You may pay my fare home on the horse-cars."
"But really I wish you would."
But this Dick positively refused to do, as might have been expected. He was himself the owner of two up-town lots, which he eventually sold for five thousand dollars, though they only cost him one, and had three hundred dollars besides in the bank. He agreed, however, to let Fosdick henceforth bear his share of the expenses of board, and this added two dollars a week to the sum he was able to lay up.
Footnotes
CHAPTER IV
A DIFFICULT COMMISSION
It need hardly be said that Fosdick was punctual to his appointment at the Astor House on the following day.
He found Mr. Bates in the reading-room, looking over a Milwaukie paper.
"Good-morning, Mr. Fosdick," he said, extending his hand. "I suppose your time is limited, therefore it will be best for us to go at once to the bank."
"You are very kind, sir, to take so much trouble on my account," said Fosdick.
"We ought all to help each other," said Mr. Bates. "I believe in that doctrine, though I have not always lived up to it. On second thoughts," he added, as they got out in front of the hotel, "if you approve of my suggestions about the purchase of bank shares, it may not be necessary to go to the bank, as you can take this cheque in payment."
"Just as you think best, sir. I can depend upon your judgment, as you know much more of such things than I."
"Then we will go at once to the office of Mr. Ferguson, a Wall Street broker, and an old friend of mine. There we will give an order for some bank shares."
Together the two walked down Broadway until they reached Trinity Church, which fronts the entrance to Wall Street. Here then they crossed the street, and soon reached the office of Mr. Ferguson.
Mr. Ferguson, a pleasant-looking man with sandy hair and whiskers, came forward and shook Mr. Bates cordially by the hand.
"Glad to see you, Mr. Bates," he said. "Where have you been for the last four years?"
"In Milwaukie. I see you are at the old place."
"Yes, plodding along as usual. How do you like the West?"
"I have found it a good place for business, though I am not sure whether I like it as well to live in as New York."
"Shan't you come back to New York some time?"
Mr. Bates shook his head.
"My business ties me to Milwaukie," he said. "I doubt if I ever return."
"Who is this young man?" said the broker, looking at Fosdick. "He is not a son of yours I think?"
"No; I am not fortunate enough to have a son. He is a young friend who wants a little business done in your line and, I have accordingly brought him to you."
"We will do our best for him. What is it?"
"He wants to purchase twenty shares in some good city bank. I used to know all about such matters when I lived in the city, but I am out of the way of such knowledge now."
"Twenty shares, you said?"
"Yes."
"It happens quite oddly that a party brought in only fifteen minutes since twenty shares in the – Bank to dispose of. It is a good bank, and I don't know that he can do any better than take them."
"Yes, it is a good bank. What interest does it pay now?"
"Eight
See sketches of the Formation of the Newsboys' Lodging-house by C. L. Brace, Secretary of the Children's Aid Society.
