Helping Himself; Or, Grant Thornton's Ambition — John Shaqi
Helping Himself; Or, Grant Thornton's AmbitionAlger, Horatio, Jr.
History
Helping Himself; Or, Grant Thornton's Ambition
Alger, Horatio, Jr.
Conduct of life -- Juvenile fiction; Kidnapping -- Juvenile fiction; New York (N.Y.) -- History -- 19th century -- Juvenile fiction
Willis Ford's countenance changed when he heard this statement. He
supposed that Jim Morrison already had his money and was safely off
with it. Now it was clear that Grant would not be allowed to pay it
to him, and his own debt would remain unpaid. That being the case,
Morrison would be exasperated, and there was no knowing what he
would say.
“What do you know of this man, Grant?”
“Very little, sir.”
“How does he impress you--as an honest, straightforward man?”
Grant shook his head.
“Not at all,” he said.
“Yet you took charge of his business for him?”
“Yes, sir; but not willingly. He offered me a dollar for my trouble,
and as I did not know there was anything wrong, I consented.
Besides---” Here Grant paused.
“Well?”
“Will you excuse my continuing, Mr. Reynolds?”
“No,” answered the broker, firmly. “On the other hand, I insist upon
your saying what you had in your mind.”
“Having seen Mr. Ford in this man's company, I concluded he was all
right.”
Willis Ford flushed and looked disconcerted.
“Is this true, Mr. Ford?” asked the broker. “Do you know this man?”
“What do you say his name was, Thornton?” asked Ford, partly to gain
time.
“James Morrison.”
“Yes; I know him. He was introduced to me by an intimate friend of
that boy,” indicating Grant.
Willis Ford smiled triumphantly. He felt that he had checkmated our
hero.
“Is this true, Grant?”
“I presume so,” answered Grant, coolly. “You refer to Tom Calder, do
you not, Mr. Ford?”
“I believe that is his name.”
“He is not an intimate friend of mine, but we came from the same
village. It is that boy who was with me when I first met you, Mr.
Reynolds.”
The broker's face cleared.
“Yes, I remember him. But how do you happen to know Tom Calder, Mr.
Ford?”
“He had a room at the same house with me. He introduced himself as a
friend of this boy.”
“Do you know anything of him--how he earns his living?”
“Haven't the faintest idea,” answered Ford. “My acquaintance with
him is very slight.”
“There seems a mystery here,” said the broker. “This Morrison gives
Grant two bonds to dispose of, which are identified as belonging to
my housekeeper. How did he obtain possession of them? That is the
question.”
“There isn't much doubt about that,” said Mrs. Estabrook. “This boy
whom you have taken into your family has taken them.”
“You are entirely mistaken, Mrs. Estabrook,” said Grant,
indignantly.
“Of course you say so!” retorted the housekeeper; “but it stands to
reason that that is the way it happened. You took them and gave them
to this man--that is, if there is such a man.”
“Your son says there is, Mrs. Estabrook,” said the broker, quietly.
“Well, I don't intend to say how it happened. Likely enough the man
is a thief, and that boy is his accomplice.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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