The Telegraph Boy Part 4

"My name is Frank Kavanagh," said our hero, in a clear, distinct voice.

"How old are you?"

"Fifteen."

"Do you know what your duties will be?"

"Yes; d.i.c.k has told me."

"I told him you'd want him to go round on a collecting tour with you every day," said d.i.c.k.

"That isn't all. You'll have to buy my groceries and all I need."

"I can do that," said Frank, cheerfully, reflecting that this would be much more agreeable than accompanying the old man round the streets.

"Are you honest?" queried the blind man, sharply.

Frank answered, with an indignant flush, "I never stole a cent in my life."

"I supposed you'd say that," retorted the blind man, with a sneer. "They all do; but a good many will steal for all that."

"If you're afraid I will, you needn't hire me," said Frank, independently.

"Of course I needn't," said Mills, sharply; "but I am not afraid. If you take any of my money I shall be sure to find it out, if I am blind."

"Don't mind him, Frank," said d.i.c.k, in a low voice.

"What's that?" asked the blind man, suspiciously. "What are you two whispering about?"

"I told Frank not to mind the way you spoke," said d.i.c.k.

"Your friend will lend you some, then."

"Not much," answered d.i.c.k, laughing. "I'm dead-broke. Haven't you got any money, Mr. Mills?"

"I have a little," grumbled the blind man; "but this boy may take it, and never come back."

"If you think so," said Frank, proudly, "you'd better engage some other boy."

"No use; you're all alike. Wait a minute, and I'll give you some money."

He drew from his pocket a roll of scrip, and handed one to Frank.

"I don't think that will be enough," said Frank. "It's only five cents."

"Are you sure it isn't a quarter?" grumbled Mills.

"Yes, sir."

"What do you say,--you, d.i.c.k?"

"It's only five cents, sir."

"Is that twenty-five?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then take it, and mind you don't loiter."

"Yes, sir."

"And be sure to bring back the change."

"Of course I will," said Frank indignantly, resenting his employer's suspicion.

"What do you think of him, Frank?" asked d.i.c.k, as they descended the stairs.

"I don't like him at all, d.i.c.k," said Frank, decidedly. "I wish I could get something else to do."

"You can, after a while. As you have no capital you must take what you can get now."

"So I suppose; but I didn't come to the city for this."

"If you don't like it you can leave in a few days."

This Frank fully resolved to do at the first favorable opportunity.

d.i.c.k showed him where he could buy the articles he was commissioned to purchase; and Frank, after obtaining them, went back to the tenement-house.

Mills scrupulously demanded the change, and put it back into his pocket.

Then he made Frank pour out the ale into a gla.s.s. This he drank with apparent zest, but offered none to Frank.

"Ale isn't good for boys," he said. "You can cut the bread, and eat two slices. Don't cut them too thick."

The blind man ate some of the bread himself, and then requested Frank to help him on with his coat and vest.

"I haven't taken any money to-day," he said "I must try to collect some, or I shall starve. It's a sad thing to be blind," he continued, his voice changing to a whine.

"You don't look blind," said Frank, thoughtfully. "Your eyes are open."

"What if they are?" said Mills, testily. "I cannot see. When I go out I close them, because the light hurts them."

Led by Frank, the blind man descended the stairs, and emerged into the street.

CHAPTER IV.