Chester Rand - LightNovelsOnl.com
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"I have no special business, except to introduce my young friend here."
"Indeed!" said the clerk, impudently. "Who is he?"
"He is going to work here," returned Mr. Conrad, sharply.
"What?" queried the bookkeeper, evidently taken by surprise. "Who says he is going to work here?"
"Mr. Fairchild."
"He didn't say anything to me about it."
"Very remarkable, certainly," rejoined Conrad. "I presume you have no objection."
"Look here," said the bookkeeper, "I think there is some mistake about this. The place was all but promised to my cousin."
"You'll have to settle that matter with your employer. Apparently he doesn't tell you everything, Mr. ----"
"My name is Mullins--David Mullins," said the bookkeeper, with dignity.
"Then, Mr. Mullins, I have the pleasure of introducing to you Chester Rand, late of Wyncombe, now of New York, who will be a.s.sociated with you in the real estate business."
"Perhaps so," sneered Mullins.
"He will stay here till Mr. Fairchild makes his appearance."
"Oh, he can sit down if he wants to."
"I shall have to leave you, Chester, as I must get to work. When Mr.
Fairchild comes in, show him this note from me."
"All right, sir."
Chester was rather chilled by his reception. He saw instinctively that his relations with Mr. Mullins were not likely to be cordial, and he suspected that if the bookkeeper could get him into trouble he would.
After the artist had left the office, Mr. David Mullins leisurely picked his teeth with his pen-knife, and fixed a scrutinizing glance on Chester, of whom he was evidently taking the measure.
"Do you knew Mr. Fairchild?" he at length asked, abruptly.
"No, sir."
"It's queer he should have engaged you as office boy."
Chester did not think it necessary to make any reply to this remark.
"How much salary do you expect to get?"
"Five dollars a week."
"Who told you so?"
"The gentleman who came in with me."
"Who is he?"
"Mr. Herbert Conrad, an artist and draughtsman."
"Never heard of him."
Mr. Mullins spoke as if this was enough to settle the status of Mr.
Conrad. A man whom he did not know must be obscure.
"So, Mr. Fairchild engaged you through Mr. Conrad, did he?"
"Yes, sir."
"Do you know anything about the city?"
"Not much."
"Then I can't imagine why Mr. Fairchild should have hired you. You can't be of much use here."
Chester began to feel discouraged. All this was certainly very depressing.
"I shall try to make myself useful," he said.
"Oh, yes," sneered Mr. Mullins, "new boys always say that."
There was a railing stretching across the office about midway, dividing it into two parts. The table and desk were inside. The remaining s.p.a.ce was left for the outside public.
A poor woman entered the office, her face bearing the impress of sorrow.
"Is Mr. Fairchild in?" she asked.
"No, he isn't."
"I've come in about the month's rent."
"Very well! You can pay it to me. What name?"
"Mrs. Carlin, sir."
"Ha! yes. Your rent is six dollars. Pa.s.s it over, and I will give you a receipt."
"But I came to say that I had only three dollars and a half toward it."
"And why have you only three dollars and a half, I'd like to know?"
said Mullins, rudely.
"Because my Jimmy has been sick three days. He's a telegraph boy, and I'm a widow, wid only me bye to help me."