Driven from Home; Or, Carl Crawford's ExperienceAlger, Horatio, Jr.
General
Driven from Home; Or, Carl Crawford's Experience
Alger, Horatio, Jr.
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Didactic fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- Juvenile fiction; Runaway teenagers -- Juvenile fiction
Then he set himself to looking over the other members of the Norris
family. Finally he picked out Norris & Wade, furnishing goods, and
decided to call at the store and inquire if they knew any lady named
Rachel Norris. The prospect of gaining information in this way did not
seem very promising, but no other course presented itself, and Carl
determined to follow up the clew, slight as it was.
Though unacquainted with Albany streets, he had little difficulty in
finding the store of Norris & Wade. It was an establishment of good
size, well supplied with attractive goods. A clerk came forward to wait
upon Carl.
“What can I show you?” he asked.
“You may show me Mr. Norris, if you please,” responded Carl, with a
smile.
“He is in the office,” said the clerk, with an answering smile.
Carl entered the office and saw Mr. Norris, a man of middle age,
partially bald, with a genial, business-like manner.
“Well, young man?” he said, looking at Carl inquiringly.
“You must excuse me for troubling you, sir,” said Carl, who was afraid
Mr. Norris would laugh at him, “but I thought you might direct me to
Rachel Norris.”
Mr. Norris looked surprised.
“What do you want of Rachel Norris?” he asked, abruptly.
“I have a little business with her,” answered Carl.
“Of what nature?”
“Excuse me, but I don’t care to mention it at present.”
“Humph! you are very cautious for a young man, or rather boy.”
“Isn’t that a good trait, sir?”
“Good, but unusual. Are you a schoolboy?”
“No, sir; I am a drummer.”
Mr. Norris put on a pair of glasses and scrutinized Carl more closely.
“I should like to see--just out of curiosity--the man that you travel
for,” he said.
“I will ask him to call whenever he visits Albany. There is his card.”
Mr. Norris took it.
“Why, bless my soul!” he exclaimed. “It is Henry Jennings, an old
schoolmate of mine.”
“And a good business man, even if he has sent out such a young drummer.”
“I should say so. There must be something in you, or he wouldn’t have
trusted you. How is Jennings?”
“He is well, sir--well and prosperous.”
“That is good news. Are you in his employ?”
“Yes, sir. This is the first time I have traveled for him.”
“How far are you going?”
“As far as Chicago.”
“I don’t see what you can have to do with Rachel Norris. However, I
don’t mind telling you that she is my aunt, and--well, upon my soul!
Here she is now.”
And he ran hastily to greet a tall, thin lady, wearing a black shawl,
who at that moment entered the office.
CHAPTER XXX.
AN ECCENTRIC WOMAN.
Miss Norris dropped into a chair as if she were fatigued.
“Well, Aunt Rachel, how are you feeling this morning?” asked her nephew.
“Out of sorts,” was the laconic reply.
“I am very sorry for that. I suppose there is reason for it.”
“Yes; I’ve been robbed.”
“Indeed!” said Mr. Norris. “Lost your purse? I wonder more ladies are
not robbed, carrying their money as carelessly as they do.”
“That isn’t it. I am always careful, as careful as any man.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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