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
The broker, who had just espied them, hurried forward, and his lost
boy was lifted to his embrace.
“Thank God, I have recovered you, my dear son,” he exclaimed,
fervently.
“You must thank Grant, too, papa,” said the little boy. “It was he
who found me and prevented Mr. Ford stealing me again.”
Mr. Reynolds grasped Grant's hand and pressed it warmly.
“I shall know how to express my gratitude to Grant in due time,” he
said.
On their way home Grant revealed to Mr. Reynolds for the first time
the treachery of the housekeeper, who had suppressed Herbert's
letter to his father, and left the latter to mourn for his son when
she might have relieved him of the burden of sorrow.
As Mr. Reynolds listened, his face became stern.
“That woman is a viper!” he said. “In my house she has enjoyed every
comfort and every consideration, and in return she has dealt me this
foul blow. She will have cause to regret it.”
When they entered the house Mrs. Estabrook received them with false
smiles.
“So you are back again, Master Herbert,” she said. “A fine fright
you gave us!”
“You speak as if Herbert went away of his own accord,” said the
broker sternly. “You probably know better.”
“I know nothing, sir, about it.”
“Then I may inform you that it was your stepson, Willis Ford, who
stole my boy--a noble revenge, truly, upon me for discharging him.”
“I don't believe it,” said the housekeeper. “I presume it is your
office boy who makes this charge?” she added, pressing her thin lips
together.
“There are others who are cognizant of it, Mrs. Estabrook. Grant
succeeded in foiling Mr. Ford in his attempt to recover Herbert, who
had run away from his place of confinement.”
“You are prejudiced against my son, Mr. Reynolds,” said Mrs.
Estabrook, her voice trembling with anger.
“Not more than against you, Mrs. Estabrook. I have a serious charge
to bring against you.”
“What do you mean, sir?” asked the housekeeper, nervously.
“Why did you suppress the letter which my boy wrote to me revealing
his place of imprisonment?”
“I don't know what you mean, sir,” she answered, half defiantly.
“I think you do.”
“Did Master Herbert write such a letter?” “Yes.”
“Then it must have miscarried.”
“On the contrary, the postman expressly declares that he delivered
it at this house. I charge you with concealing or suppressing it.”
“The charge is false. You can't prove it, sir.”
“I shall not attempt to do so; but I am thoroughly convinced of it.
After this act of treachery, I cannot permit you to spend another
night in my house. You will please pack at once, and arrange for a
removal.”
“I am entitled to a month's notice, Mr. Reynolds.”
“You shall have a month's wages in lieu of it. I would as soon have
a serpent in my house.”
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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