The Boy Broker Part 36

"Yes; it's nearer four weeks, and my shoes are worn out with walking."

"But you know I have some money for you, and you better take it and buy you a new pair."

[Ill.u.s.tration: HERBERT RANDOLPH SHOVELING SNOW.]

"No, Bob, I will never take that except as a last resort. While I have my health I shall not allow myself to accept charity. I am not afraid to do any sort of work, and sooner or later I am confident that I shall find employment. This morning I earned seventy five cents shoveling snow from the stoops of houses. This sort of employment, however, is very uncertain, as so little snow falls here; but there are other odd jobs to be done, and I shall try and get my share of them."

"I didn't know you was doing that kind of work, Herbert," said Bob, with a deep drawn sigh. "It ain't right for a boy with your learnin' to come down to that."

"It's right for me to do anything temporarily to earn an honest penny.

One who is above work cannot hope to succeed. I am here, and I am going to stay, and the best I can do is to do always the best I can, and the best I can do just at present is to be a porter, an errand boy, a boy of all work--ready for anything, and willing to do anything, always keeping my eyes open for a chance to go a step higher.

"The trouble with me now, Bob, is that I started in too elegantly at first. I commenced in a broker's office, when I should have started at the bottom, in order to know anything about the first round of the ladder. I'm at the bottom now, and it looks as if I would have to remain there long enough to learn a good deal about that position."

"I'm glad you feel that way, Herbert, for I thought you was getting discouraged," replied Bob, his face brightening up.

"I did feel utterly discouraged for the first two or three weeks; but you know, Bob, one can get used to anything, and I have become sufficiently accustomed to this miserable kind of work, and to the beggarly pennies I earn from time to time, so that it is less cutting to me than at first. I try to content myself with the belief that it will be better by and by, though I get heartsick sometimes. It seems almost useless to try farther for work in any well established business."

The foregoing will give a very slight idea of the struggle young Randolph made to keep his head above water, and it presents a pretty true picture of the difficulties a boy will ordinarily encounter in attempting to make his way unaided in a great city like New York. Of course difficulties vary in character and severity; but it would not be safe for the average boy to expect to find less than those that surrounded our hero. Some would be more fortunate, while others would be less favored. Herbert Randolph was especially fortunate in meeting Bob Hunter, whose friends.h.i.+p proved as true as steel. What would have become of him while in the hands of old Gunwagner, but for Bob's effort to rescue him? And, again, how could he have fought away despondency during his enforced idleness had he lived by himself in a cold and cheerless room? Brave and manly as he was, he owed much to his warm hearted companion, whose presence and sympathy revived his drooping and almost crushed spirits.

As the days pa.s.sed by, Herbert Randolph turned his attention to the most practical purposes. He almost entirely gave up looking for a steady situation, and devoted his time to doing whatever odd jobs he could hit upon that would bring him in a little money. Among the many kinds of humble employment to which he bent his energies was that of working the hoist. In New York the tall warehouses, those not supplied with an elevator, have a windla.s.s at the top, to which is attached a heavy rope, that pa.s.ses down through a wide opening to the ground floor. This rope, with a large iron hook at the end, is attached to heavy cases, or whatever is to be taken to any of the upper lofts. Another rope, pa.s.sing over a big wheel, when pulled turns the windla.s.s. This winds the main rope around it, and thus draws it up, taking with it its load, whatever that may be. Perhaps no harder or less poetic work to an educated boy could be found than this; yet Herbert Randolph did not hesitate to throw off his coat, and work with an aching back and smarting hands as few porters would do.

He worked faithfully and honestly, with no hope of reward other than the money he would earn by his labor. And yet this very employment--this humble porter work--opened up to him an opportunity of which he had never dreamed--suggested to him an idea that he never before thought of.

It came about in this way. One day, after he had toiled for two hours or so on the hoist, and had finished his work, he went up to the cas.h.i.+er to get his money, as he had done many times before. A man with a satchel strapped to his shoulder was just ahead of him.

"Good morning, Mr. Smith," said the man with the satchel, addressing the cas.h.i.+er.

[Ill.u.s.tration: HERBERT RANDOLPH WORKING ON THE HOIST.]

"Good morning," responded the latter. "I am glad you came today, Mr.

Woodman, for we have an unusually large supply of stamps on hand."

"The market is very much overstocked at present," replied Woodman, unslinging his satchel, and resting it on the desk. "I bought a thousand dollars' worth of stamps yesterday from one party at five per cent off."

"Five per cent," repeated the cas.h.i.+er, arching his eyebrows.

"Yes, five per cent."

"And you expect to buy from us at that rate?"

"I wish I could pay you more, but my money is all tied up now--the market is glutted, fairly glutted."

"I should think it would be, when you buy them in thousand dollar lots."

"Well, that does seem like a large amount of stamps, but I know of one lot--a ten thousand dollar lot--that I could buy within an hour, if I had the money to put into them."

"You could never get rid of so many, Woodman," said the cas.h.i.+er, surprised at the broker's statement.

"Oh, yes, I could work them off sooner or later, and would get par for most of them too."

"How do you do it?"

"I put them up in small lots of fifty cents and a dollar, and upwards, and sell them to my customers. Of course, when I buy big lots I do a little wholesaling, but I put away all I cannot sell at the time."

"They are sure to go sooner or later, I suppose," said the cas.h.i.+er.

"Oh, yes, sure to sell. During the summer months very few stamps come into the market."

"And this gives you an opportunity to work off your surplus stock?"

"Yes."

"I presume you sell as a rule to stores and business offices."

"Yes; I have a regular line of customers who buy all of their stamps off me--customers that I worked up myself."

"And they prefer buying of you to going to the post office for their supply?"

"Certainly; for I give them just as good stamps, and by buying of me they save themselves the trouble of going to the post office for them."

Herbert Randolph was waiting for his money, and overheard this conversation between the cas.h.i.+er and the stamp broker. He made no effort to hear it, for it did not relate to him. They spoke so loud, however, that he caught every word distinctly, and before they had finished talking the idea flashed across his mind that he would try his hand at that business. Mr. Woodman, as good fortune willed it for young Randolph, could take only a portion of the stamps the cas.h.i.+er wished to dispose of. When the broker had completed his purchase and gone, Herbert stepped up to the cas.h.i.+er for the money due him for working on the hoist. Mr. Smith handed it to him cheerfully, with a pleasant remark, which gave young Randolph an opportunity to talk with him about the stamp brokerage idea that had set his brain on fire.

"How much capital have you?" asked the cas.h.i.+er, with growing interest.

"With the money you just paid me I have three dollars and seventy five cents," answered Herbert, his face coloring.

The cas.h.i.+er smiled.

"And you think you could become a broker on that capital?" said he, with mingled surprise and amus.e.m.e.nt.

"I think I could try it on that capital if you would sell me the stamps," replied Herbert, with such intelligent a.s.surance that he interested the cas.h.i.+er.

"You can certainly have the stamps," answered the latter, "and I will aid you in every way possible, but----" and there was an ominous pause, as if thinking how he could best discourage the boy from such an undertaking.

Herbert divined his thoughts, and said, "I know such an idea must seem foolish to you, who handle so much money; but to me----"

"Yes, you may be right, young man," interrupted the cas.h.i.+er. "You certainly interest me. I like ambition and pluck, and you evidently have both. When would you like the stamps?"

"Thank you," said Herbert, in a tone that lent strength to his words.

"You may give them to me now, if you please--three dollars' worth. I may need the seventy five cents before I succeed in selling any stamps."

"It is a wise precaution to avoid tying up all your capital in one thing," laughed the cas.h.i.+er, while counting out the stamps. "They will cost you two dollars and eighty five cents, at five per cent discount, the same as I gave Mr. Woodman."

When the transaction had been completed, young Randolph left the office hurriedly, anxious to learn what the possibilities of his new undertaking were.

Ten times during that first day did he return to Mr. Smith for stamps, and ten times was his supply exhausted by customers to whom he sold at par--resulting in a profit of a dollar and fifty cents--an income that to him was a small fortune.

That night Herbert Randolph joined Bob Hunter with brighter eyes and more buoyant spirits than he had known since Mr. Goldwin's failure, now nearly three months ago.