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Ragged Dick Part 33

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"Maybe I'll never be able to pay you."

"S'pose you don't," said d.i.c.k; "I guess I won't fail."

"I won't forget it, d.i.c.k. I hope I'll be able to do somethin' for you sometime."

"All right," said d.i.c.k. "I'd ought to help you. I haven't got no mother to look out for. I wish I had."

There was a tinge of sadness in his tone, as he p.r.o.nounced the last four words; but d.i.c.k's temperament was sanguine, and he never gave way to unavailing sadness. Accordingly he began to whistle as he turned away, only adding, "I'll see you to-morrow, Tom."

The three dollars which d.i.c.k had handed to Tom Wilkins were his savings for the present week. It was now Thursday afternoon. His rent, which amounted to a dollar, he expected to save out of the earnings of Friday and Sat.u.r.day. In order to give Tom the additional a.s.sistance he had promised, d.i.c.k would be obliged to have recourse to his bank-savings. He would not have ventured to trench upon it for any other reason but this. But he felt that it would be selfish to allow Tom and his mother to suffer when he had it in his power to relieve them. But d.i.c.k was destined to be surprised, and that in a disagreeable manner, when he reached home.

CHAPTER XXI

d.i.c.k LOSES HIS BANK-BOOK

It was hinted at the close of the last chapter that d.i.c.k was destined to be disagreeably surprised on reaching home.

Having agreed to give further a.s.sistance to Tom Wilkins, he was naturally led to go to the drawer where he and Fosd.i.c.k kept their bank-books. To his surprise and uneasiness _the drawer proved to be empty!_

"Come here a minute, Fosd.i.c.k," he said.

"What's the matter, d.i.c.k?"

"I can't find my bank-book, nor yours either. What's 'come of them?"

"I took mine with me this morning, thinking I might want to put in a little more money. I've got it in my pocket, now."

"But where's mine?" asked d.i.c.k, perplexed.

"I don't know. I saw it in the drawer when I took mine this morning."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, positive, for I looked into it to see how much you had got."

"Did you lock it again?" asked d.i.c.k.

"Yes; didn't you have to unlock it just now?"

"So I did," said d.i.c.k. "But it's gone now. Somebody opened it with a key that fitted the lock, and then locked it ag'in."

"That must have been the way."

"It's rather hard on a feller," said d.i.c.k, who, for the first time since we became acquainted with him, began to feel down-hearted.

"Don't give it up, d.i.c.k. You haven't lost the money, only the bank-book."

"Aint that the same thing?"

"No. You can go to the bank to-morrow morning, as soon as it opens, and tell them you have lost the book, and ask them not to pay the money to any one except yourself."

"So I can," said d.i.c.k, brightening up. "That is, if the thief hasn't been to the bank to-day."

"If he has, they might detect him by his handwriting."

"I'd like to get hold of the one that stole it," said d.i.c.k, indignantly. "I'd give him a good lickin'."

"It must have been somebody in the house. Suppose we go and see Mrs.

Mooney. She may know whether anybody came into our room to-day."

The two boys went downstairs, and knocked at the door of a little back sitting-room where Mrs. Mooney generally spent her evenings. It was a shabby little room, with a threadbare carpet on the floor, the walls covered with a certain large-figured paper, patches of which had been stripped off here and there, exposing the plaster, the remainder being defaced by dirt and grease. But Mrs. Mooney had one of those comfortable temperaments which are tolerant of dirt, and didn't mind it in the least. She was seated beside a small pine work-table, industriously engaged in mending stockings.

"Good-evening, Mrs. Mooney," said Fosd.i.c.k, politely.

"Good-evening," said the landlady. "Sit down, if you can find chairs. I'm hard at work as you see, but a poor lone widder can't afford to be idle."

"We can't stop long, Mrs. Mooney, but my friend here has had something taken from his room to-day, and we thought we'd come and see you about it."

"What is it?" asked the landlady. "You don't think I'd take anything? If I am poor, it's an honest name I've always had, as all my lodgers can testify."

"Certainly not, Mrs. Mooney; but there are others in the house that may not be honest. My friend has lost his bank-book. It was safe in the drawer this morning, but to-night it is not to be found."

"How much money was there in it?" asked Mrs. Mooney.

"Over a hundred dollars," said Fosd.i.c.k.

"It was my whole fortun'," said d.i.c.k. "I was goin' to buy a house next year."

Mrs. Mooney was evidently surprised to learn the extent of d.i.c.k's wealth, and was disposed to regard him with increased respect.

"Was the drawer locked?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Then it couldn't have been Bridget. I don't think she has any keys."

"She wouldn't know what a bank-book was," said Fosd.i.c.k. "You didn't see any of the lodgers go into our room to-day, did you?"

"I shouldn't wonder if it was Jim Travis," said Mrs. Mooney, suddenly.

This James Travis was a bar-tender in a low groggery in Mulberry Street, and had been for a few weeks an inmate of Mrs. Mooney's lodging-house. He was a coa.r.s.e-looking fellow who, from his appearance, evidently patronized liberally the liquor he dealt out to others. He occupied a room opposite d.i.c.k's, and was often heard by the two boys reeling upstairs in a state of intoxication, uttering shocking oaths.

This Travis had made several friendly overtures to d.i.c.k and his room-mate, and had invited them to call round at the bar-room where he tended, and take something. But this invitation had never been accepted, partly because the boys were better engaged in the evening, and partly because neither of them had taken a fancy to Mr.

Travis; which certainly was not strange, for nature had not gifted him with many charms, either of personal appearance or manners. The rejection of his friendly proffers had caused him to take a dislike to d.i.c.k and Henry, whom he considered stiff and unsocial.

"What makes you think it was Travis?" asked Fosd.i.c.k. "He isn't at home in the daytime."

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Ragged Dick Part 33 summary

You're reading Ragged Dick. This manga has been translated by Updating. Author(s): Horatio Alger. Already has 663 views.

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