Read Ebook: Under Fire: A Tale of New England Village Life by Munsey Frank Andrew

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Ebook has 1334 lines and 40102 words, and 27 pages

"What shall we do, then, father?"

"Wait until we can see how to proceed."

"Well, I don't see any way; and, besides, I am about discouraged, now this is added to the other disgrace; and to think that I am not responsible for either!" exclaimed Fred, with deep emotion.

"I think you were responsible, to a certain extent, for the first," said his father.

"How was I responsible when De Vere led me into it, and had my drink adulterated?"

"You were to be blamed for going to the bar at all. You should not have been influenced by such a fellow as that scamp."

"Yes, I know I didn't do right in that respect, but I had no reason to suppose that such a result would follow."

"One hardly ever does when he is being led on to do some wrong act by a crafty villain."

"Matthew probably would have had his revenge in some other way, if he had not succeeded in his first trial."

"Very true; but had it been in some other form, it might have been shown that he was the guilty party; whereas now it would seem that you were the author of your own misfortune, while the real agent of the occurrence goes unsuspected, and exults in your downfall."

"I thought he wanted to be friends with me, so I tried not to displease him."

"Well, I hope that affair will be a valuable lesson to you. It has certainly proved itself a costly one. You should learn to look at the motives of people, and not trust them too far, simply because they smile upon you once and seem friendly. I don't think that your judgment was very keen, or you would have seen through De Vere's sudden change of manner when you had reason to suppose he would maintain a more hostile attitude than ever."

"Don't be too hard upon him, Samuel," interrupted Mrs. Worthington, who saw that Fred was growing restive under his father's rebukes.

"I am not trying to be hard upon him," replied her husband, "but simply wish to bring this matter before him in a way that will enable him to make the most of this experience. I want to teach him to avoid such errors in the future; for this is an almost fatal mistake in his case, which will follow him for years, and will, so far as I can see, change his whole life's career."

"Why, how is that, father?" inquired Fred, in a half frightened voice.

"It is simply this: your mother and I always intended that you should become a merchant. We instilled that idea into you from a child, and as you grew older, to our satisfaction you showed a decided taste for such a life. At last I got you a place in a store where I thought you could build yourself up, and, in course of time, go into business for yourself. You showed an aptitude for the work, and Mr. Rexford assured me that you were one of the very best clerks that ever worked for him. This, however, was before he was led to suspect you because of the De Vere affair. Now you have been discharged by him on the suspicion of having stolen money from his drawer. Under these circumstances, no one in town would take you into his store as clerk; so you may as well give up, first as last, the idea of becoming a trader."

"Couldn't I get a place in Boston, or somewhere else?"

"I think not; and if you could, I should not be willing to have you go away from home."

"Why not, father? Wouldn't it be better than for me to stay here, where I can get nothing to do?"

"No, my son; you are too young to go away from home, where you would have no one to look after you, and where you would be subject to many evil influences."

"Here every one will think I am a thief, and probably my friends will not speak to me," added Fred, in a more sorrowful tone than ever.

"So much the more reason why you should remain here. Were you to go away now, the people would surely think you guilty. No, no, my son! You must stay here, where circumstances have conspired against you, and show by your life that you are innocent. Then, too, by living here, you can gather evidence that may be of value to you."

"Where can I get any evidence?"

"You can give it, if you can't get it," replied his father, "by going to work tomorrow morning, and thus showing your good intentions."

"There is nothing to do in this dull town that I know of."

"There is always something to be done. But work won't come to you; you must look it up. The important thing with you now is to find something to do; for nothing so injures a boy or man in the sight of others as loafing."

"Can't I be with you in the shop, father?"

"No, I don't want you to learn a shoemaker's trade. If I had been in some other business, I might, perhaps, have been rich now. Shoemaking doesn't afford one much chance to rise, however hard he works. You will have to give up the idea of being a merchant, for the present, at least, and perhaps forever; so I want you to engage in something where your opportunities for advancement will not be limited as mine have been. No matter if you have to commence at the very bottom of the ladder; you can build yourself up by hard and intelligent work."

Fred now began to brighten up a little, and after some further conversation with his father and mother, in which they tried to encourage him as much as possible, he said:

"Father, you know I have always had an ambition to be somebody. When I saw that De Vere was trying to turn my friends against me, because I was a poor man's son, I made up my mind that I would push ahead harder than ever; but now"--he spoke with a good deal of determination and force for a boy--"I will succeed if I have to work day and night to accomplish it."

The village of Mapleton had but three manufacturing industries: a lumber mill, where logs were sawed up into various dimensions; a box shop, in which were made wooden boxes of many different sizes and shapes; and a large woolen factory. After leaving home, Fred went directly to the agent of the lumber mill and tried to get a chance to work for him, but in this he was unsuccessful. At the box shop he likewise received no encouragement, for there they needed no help. So there was but one more place left to try--that was the woolen factory, where he might still find a vacancy.

The idea of becoming a factory hand, after having been behind the counter as clerk, was repulsive to him; still he must do something; anything was better than idleness. Consequently he went to the mill, and climbed four long flights of stairs, which took him to the top of the building. Here he opened a large, heavy iron door, and entered the spinning room, down which he passed until he came to the overseer's desk.

The latter--a large, gruff, red faced man--was not there at the time, but on spying Fred he hurriedly came forward and demanded to know the boy's business. On being informed that employment was wanted, he said he needed no help, and indicated by his manner that he wished to be bothered no further.

Young Worthington now dropped down a flight and tried to get work in the card room, but with no success. On the next floor below was the weaving room, and here he soon learned that the overseer considered that he could get along very successfully without his help.

But two more departments--the finishing and the dyeing rooms--remained to be visited, and then the ordeal would be over.

As the boy descended the stairs to the former, he had very little hope of accomplishing his purpose, for thus far he had received no encouragement whatever.

Fred knew the gentleman in charge of the department perfectly well, for he was his Sunday school teacher, and moreover, was the father of his friend Dave; nevertheless he passed down the long hall with many a misgiving, and approaching the overseer timidly, said:

"Good morning, Mr. Farrington."

"Good morning, Fred," said the latter cordially. "What brings you here this morning?"

"I came in, sir," replied Fred, with an evident sense of humiliation, "to see if you could give me work in your department."

"Why, you can't mean it! You have not left the store, I hope?"

"Yes, I do mean that I want a job, and I am sorry to say I got through in the store last night."

"You surprise me! What could have been the trouble?"

Fred knew he was now talking to a large hearted, sympathetic man, and one who had always seemed to take a keen interest in his welfare, so he related the entire incident.

Mr. Farrington watched him closely as he recited what had taken place at the store, and then the kind hearted man expressed, both by words and manner, his regret that matters should have taken such a turn. "My boy, don't look so discouraged," he said. "I will do what I can to help you. Mr. Rexford should not have judged you so hastily; from what you tell me, I can't see that he has any good proof that you are guilty."

"I am certain that I am not guilty, but how can I prove my innocence?"

"Ah, that may be difficult, as it is a mysterious affair. But I believe you have told me the truth, and I shall do all I can to help you in every way."

Our young friend brightened up somewhat at this cheering statement, and with a grateful look, replied:

"You know, Mr. Farrington, I just told you why he so readily suspected me, and he has had no faith in me ever since that time."

"That was an unfortunate occurrence, to be sure, but from what Dave says, I think if the whole truth were known you would be blamed less."

"I am glad you know something of the facts of that affair, and have some charity for me; before coming in here, I began to think that every one had turned against me, and I hardly had courage to ask you for a place, they treated me so in all the upper rooms."

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