Chapter VI. Frank Gets a Place

The Cash Boy

by Horatio Alger

"So this is New York," said Frank to himself, as he emerged from
the railway station and looked about him with interest and
curiosity.

"Black yer boots? Shine?" asked a bootblack, seeing our hero
standing still.

Frank looked at his shoes. They were dirty, without doubt, but
he would not have felt disposed to be so extravagant, considering his
limited resources, had he not felt it necessary to obtain some
information about the city.

"Yes," he said, "you may black them."

The boy was on his knees instantly and at work.

"How much do you make in a day?" asked Frank.

"When it's a good day I make a dollar."

"That's pretty good," said Frank.

"Can you show me the way to Broadway?"

"Go straight ahead."

Our hero paid for his shine and started in the direction
indicated.

Frank's plans, so far as he had any, were to get into a store.
He knew that Broadway was the principal business street in the city,
and this was about all he did know about it.

He reached the great thoroughfare in a few minutes, and was
fortunate enough to find on the window of the corner store the
sign:

"A Boy Wanted."

He entered at once, and going up to the counter, addressed a
young man, who was putting up goods.

"Do you want a boy?"

"I believe the boss wants one; I don't. Go out to that
desk."

Frank found the desk, and propounded the same question to a
sandy-whiskered man, who looked up from his writing.

"You're prompt," he said. "That notice was only put out two
minutes ago."

"I only saw it one minute ago."

"So you want the place, do you?"

"I should like it."

"Do you know your way about the city?"

"No, sir, but I could soon find out."

"That won't do. I shall have plenty of applications from boys
who live in the city and are familiar with the streets."

Frank left the store rather discomfited.

He soon came to another store where there was a similar notice
of "A Boy Wanted." It was a dry goods store.

"Do you live with your parents?" was asked.

"My parents are dead," said Frank, sadly.

"Very sorry, but we can't take you."

"Why not, sir?"

"In case you took anything we should make your parents
responsible."

"I shouldn't take anything," said Frank, indignantly.

"You might; I can't take you."

Our hero left this store a little disheartened by his second
rebuff.

He made several more fruitless applications, but did not lose
courage wholly. He was gaining an appetite, however. It is not
surprising therefore, that his attention was drawn to the bills of a
restaurant on the opposite side of the street. He crossed over, and
standing outside, began to examine them to see what was the scale of
prices. While in this position he was suddenly aroused by a slap on
the back.

Turning he met the gaze of a young man of about thirty, who was
smiling quite cordially.

"Why, Frank, my boy, how are you?" he said, offering his
hand.

"Pretty well, thank you," said our hero bewildered, for he had
no recollection of the man who had called him by name.

The other smiled a little more broadly, and thought:

"It was a lucky guess; his name is Frank."

"I am delighted to hear it," he continued. "When did you reach
the city?"

"This morning," said the unsuspecting Frank.

"Well, it's queer I happened to meet you so soon, isn't it?
Going to stay long?"

"I shall, if I can get a place."

"Perhaps I can help you."

"I suppose I ought to remember you," ventured our hero, "but I
can't think of your name."

"Jasper Wheelock. You don't mean to say you don't remember me?
Perhaps it isn't strange, as we only met once or twice in your
country home. But that doesn't matter. I'm just as ready to help
you. By the way, have you dined?"

"No."

"No more have I. Come in and dine with me."

"What'll you take?" asked Jasper Wheelock, passing the bill of
fare to Frank.

"I think I should like to have some roast beef," said Frank.

"That will suit me. Here, waiter, two plates of roast beef, and
two cups of coffee."

"How are they all at home?" asked Jasper.

"My mother has just died."

"You don't say so," said Jasper, sympathetically.

"My sister is well."

"I forgot your sister's name."

"Grace."

"Of course--Grace. I find it hard to remember names. The fact
is, I have been trying to recall your last name, but it's gone from
me."

"Fowler."

"To be sure Frank Fowler. How could I be so forgetful."

The conversation was interrupted by the arrival of the coffee
and roast beet, which both he and his new friend attacked with
vigor.

"What kind of pudding will you have?" asked the stranger.

"Apple dumpling," said Frank.

"That suits me. Apple dumpling for two."

In due time the apple dumpling was disposed of, and two checks
were brought, amounting to seventy cents.

"I'll pay for both," said Jasper. "No thanks. We are old
acquaintances, you know."

He put his hand into his pocket, and quickly withdrew it with an
exclamation of surprise:

"Well, if that isn't a good joke," he said. "I've left my money
at home. I remember now, I left it in the pocket of my other coat.
I shall have to borrow the money of you. You may as well hand me a
dollar!"

Frank was not disposed to be suspicious, but the request for
money made him uneasy. Still there seemed no way of refusing, and he
reluctantly drew out the money.

His companion settled the bill and then led the way into the
street.

Jasper Wheelock was not very scrupulous; he was quite capable of
borrowing money, without intending to return it; but he had his good
side.

"Frank," said he, as they found themselves in the street, "you
have done me a favor, and I am going to help you in return. Have you
got very much money?"

"No. I had twenty dollars when I left home, but I had to pay my
fare in the cars and the dinner, I have seventeen dollars and a half
left."

"Then it is necessary for you to get a place as soon as
possible."

"Yes; I have a sister to support; Grace, you know."

"No, I don't know. The fact is, Frank, I have been imposing
upon you. I never saw you before in the whole course of my life."

"What made you say you knew me?"

"I wanted to get a dinner out of you. Don't be troubled,
though; I'll pay back the money. I've been out of a place for three
or four weeks, but I enter upon one the first of next week. For the
rest of the week I've got nothing to do, and I will try to get you a
place.

"The first thing is to get a room somewhere. I'll tell you
what, you may have part of my room."

"Is it expensive?"

"No; I pay a dollar and a half a week. I think the old lady
won't charge more than fifty cents extra for you."

"Then my share would be a dollar."

"You may pay only fifty cents. I'll keep on paying what I do
now. My room is on Sixth Avenue." They had some distance to walk.
Finally Jasper halted before a baker's shop.

"It's over this," he said.

He drew out a latch-key and entered.

"This is my den," he said. It isn't large you can't get any
better for the money."

"I shall have to be satisfied," said Frank. "I want to get
along as cheap as I can."

"I've got to economize myself for a short time. After this week
I shall earn fifteen dollars a week."

"What business are you in, Mr. Wheelock?"

"I am a journeyman printer. It is a very good business, and I
generally have steady work. I expect to have after I get started
again. Now, shall I give you some advice?"

"I wish you would."

"You don't know your way around New York. I believe I have a
map somewhere. I'll just show you on it the position of the
principal streets, and that will give you a clearer idea of where we
go."

The map was found and Jasper explained to Frank the leading
topographical features of the Island City.

One thing only was wanting now to make him contented, and this
was employment. But it was too late to make any further
inquiries.

"I've been thinking, Frank," said Jasper, the next morning,
"that you might get the position as a cash-boy."

"What does a cash-boy do?"

"In large retail establishments every salesman keeps a book in
which his sales are entered. He does not himself make change, for it
would not do to have so many having access to the money-drawer. The
money is carried to the cashier's desk by boys employed for the
purpose, who return with the change."

"Do you think I can get a situation as cash-boy?"

"I will try at Gilbert & Mack's. I know one of the
principal salesmen. If there is a vacancy he will get it for you to
oblige me."

They entered a large retail store on Broadway. It was broad and
spacious. Twenty salesmen stood behind the counter, and boys were
running this way and that with small books in their hands.

"How are you, Duncan?" said Jasper.

The person addressed was about Jasper Wheelock's age. He had a
keen, energetic look and manner, and would be readily singled out as
one of the leading clerks.

"All right, Wheelock. How are you?" he responded. "Do you want
anything in our line?"

"No goods; I want a place for this youngster. He's a friend of
mine. I'll answer for his good character."

"That will be satisfactory. But what sort of a place does he
want?"

"He is ready to begin as cash-boy."

"Then we can oblige you, as one of our boys has fallen sick, and
we have not supplied his place. I'll speak to Mr. Gilbert."

He went up to Mr. Gilbert, a portly man in the back part of the
store. Mr. Gilbert seemed to be asking two or three questions.
Frank waited the result in suspense, dreading another disappointment,
but this time he was fortunate.

"The boy can stay," reported Duncan. "His wages are three
dollars a week."

It was not much, but Frank was well pleased to feel that at last
he had a place in the city.

He wrote a letter to Grace in the evening, announcing his
success, and expressing the hope that he would soon be able to send
for her.