Rupert's Ambition

CHAPTER XXVI.
TRIUMPHANT OVER OBSTACLES

Never, probably, in the many representations of "The Lady of Lyons" has there been a stranger tableau than was presented on the stage in Amaranth Hall on the evening when Leslie made his début as a star.

Leslie stood in the centre of the stage, with his arm encircling the waist of the fair Ida, while Otto, short, stout, and decidedly Teutonic, stood a few feet to the left, shaking his fist at the two leading characters. It was enough to throw a veteran actor into confusion.

But Leslie was not wholly unprepared. Still encircling the fair Pauline's waist, he half turned and thundered in indignant words not to be found in Bulwer's play this stern defiance: "Caitiff, avaunt! This rock shall fly from its firm base as soon as I."

The melodramatic defiance caught the house. There was a chorus of shouts and laughter, and some small boys in the gallery called out, "Pitch into him, Claude!"

Otto, not being accustomed to standing on a stage facing a crowded audience, appeared somewhat abashed, but his indignation was still warm. He turned to the audience and said, in an explanatory tone, "He ain't got no right to hug my gal."

By this time Ida, too, was indignant. She felt that Otto was exposing both her and himself to ridicule, and she cried out, in a vexed tone, "You just sit down, Otto Schaefer, and don't make a fool of yourself, or I'll never speak to you again."

"Sit down! sit down!" resounded from all parts of the house.

Otto could not stand the clamor. With one last indignant glance at Leslie and his promised bride he descended from the stage and made his way to his seat in the orchestra.

When Leslie, resuming the business of the play, said, "Look up! look up, Pauline! for I can bear thine eyes. The stain is blotted from my name. I have redeemed mine honor," there was a shout of applause.

Then Leslie, perceiving his opportunity, interpolated a few words appropriate to the occasion. Pointing to the discomfited Otto, he said, "Heed not that vulgar groundling, who would step in between us and our happiness. Let him return in shame and failure to his butcher shop in Brooklyn, nor dare profane thy presence, sweet Pauline."

Otto felt that this was addressed to him, and he called out in a passion: "Don't you call me names, you New York dude!"

Here a policeman appeared, and hurried the unfortunate man from the hall, and the play proceeded to the close.

At the end Claude and Pauline were called before the curtain by the excited audience. The applause was terrific. Then there was a cry of "Speech! speech!"

Nothing could have suited Leslie better.

"My generous friends," he said, "this is the proudest moment of my life. I don't feel that I have merited your applause, but I accept it for the fair Pauline. If my poor efforts have pleased you I am more than satisfied. I did not anticipate the unpleasant interruption which marred our closing scene, but Miss Strassburger and myself were sustained by the thought that you were with us. Trusting to meet you again ere long, I bid you good-night."

There was another chorus of cheers. Leslie led Ida out at the wings, and the audience left the hall.

"What did you think of it, Rupert?" asked Leslie proudly, as he joined his fellow bell-boy in the street.

"I give you credit for getting out of a tight place so neatly."

"I was too much for the butcher boy, eh, Rupert?"

"You certainly were," said Rupert, laughing. "I hope Ida will forgive him."

"I think she will after a while, as long as he didn't spoil the play. The audience were very enthusiastic."

"Yes, more so probably on account of Otto's ill-timed interruption."

"So I think. It was a splendid ovation. Oh, Rupert, it was delicious. It was, as I said, the proudest moment of my life. I wonder if there will he anything in the papers about it."

"I think it quite likely."

"You didn't see anything of Daly or Palmer in the hall, did you?"

"I don't know the gentlemen by sight."

"I wish they had been there. I think they would have appreciated my triumph over the young butcher from Brooklyn."

"Perhaps they would," said Rupert, dubiously.

The next evening Leslie read the following notice in the Evening News:

"Last evening Bulwer's play, 'The Lady of Lyons' was produced by the Violet Dramatic Company at Amaranth Hall, on First Avenue. The performance was smooth and creditable to the young players. Mr. Leslie Waters as Claude Melnotte, was earnest and effective, while Miss Ida Strassburger made an acceptable Pauline. Towards the close of the play an excitable young German, who was probably under the influence of beer, left his seat, and, jumping on the stage, interrupted the performance. He appeared to be jealous of Melnotte's attentions to Pauline. Mr. Waters showed remarkable composure in a trying situation, and interpolated a rebuke to the officious intruder. The audience sustained him, and he and Miss Strassburger were called before the curtain with terrific applause. We shall doubtless hear from Mr. Waters again."

"That is very complimentary, Leslie," said Rupert. "I hope it won't unfit you for your duties as bell-boy."

"No, but it will make me impatient to close them for good and all, and embrace the glorious profession of Booth and Irving."

CHAPTER XXVII.
AN INGENIOUS TRICK

One morning a tailor's boy entered the Somerset Hotel with a bundle which he carried to the clerk.

"It is an overcoat for Mr. Silas Drayton," he said.

"Very well," said the clerk. "You can leave it, and we will send it to his room."

Upon this the boy left the hotel.

A young man of twenty-five or thereabouts, who was sitting near by, listened attentively to what passed between the boy and the clerk.

The latter summoned Rupert, and said: "Here is the key of 58. You may take up this coat and leave it in the room. It belongs to Mr. Drayton."

"All right, sir."

Rupert started with the bundle, and the young man started for the elevator, and got into it just as it was about to ascend.

"I want to go up to No. 58," he said.

"Very well."

When they reached the third floor the elevator boy halted.

"You will find No. 58 on this floor," he said.

"Thank you."

The young man found the room, and was standing in front of it when Rupert made his appearance.

"Is that my uncle's coat?" he asked.

"It is Mr. Drayton's coat."

"Exactly. Mr. Drayton is my uncle. You may give it to me, and I will take it in. Have you the key?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then you may give it to me; I came up without one."

He spoke with such assurance that Rupert, accustomed as he was to impostors, was quite taken in. He handed the package and the key to the young man, who at once opened the door and went into the room.

When Rupert had got half-way down stairs he began to wonder if he had not made a mistake.

He did not feel at all sure that the young man to whom he had handed the bundle had any right to claim it. As it might prove to be a serious mistake he went to the clerk and inquired, "Has Mr. Drayton got a nephew stopping here?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"I am afraid I have made a blunder. At the door of No. 58 I met a young man who told me he was Mr. Drayton's nephew, and asked me to hand him the bundle."

"Did he come down stairs?"

"No, he went into the room."

"I didn't think you could be so easily imposed upon, Rupert. The man is undoubtedly an adventurer. Describe him."

Rupert did so.

"He had been sitting in the office for half an hour. He must have seen the tailor's boy bring in the bundle."

"He is upstairs yet. Can't we get back the coat?"

"You will know him when you see him again?"

"Oh, yes."

"Then take your position by the elevator, and if you see him come down, signal to the detective whom I will also station there. He will take care of him."

Ten minutes later the elevator reached the office floor. Among those who stepped out was the young man, wearing an overcoat considerably too large for him. It was clear that he had put it on in No. 58, and was now about to wear it out of the hotel.

He stepped out of the elevator, and with a slight glance about him made briskly for the door. But he had taken only two steps when Rupert caught him by the arm.

"I want to see you a minute," he said.

"I am in a hurry. I have an appointment. I will see you on my return."

But the detective had now stepped forward.

"You will have to stop now," he said, firmly.

"I don't understand you. By what right do you detain me?"

"Where did you get that overcoat you have on?"

"It is my own. Hasn't a man a right to wear an overcoat?"

"Yes, if it belongs to him. This seems too large for you."

"True," said the young man, "it belongs to my uncle, Mr. Drayton."

"Indeed. Then how do you happen to be wearing it?"

"I have borrowed it for the day. Really this is very annoying."

"What is your name?"

"Charles Drayton," answered the young man, with some hesitation.

"You will have to take off the coat and accompany me to the police station."

"This is an outrage!" exclaimed the young man. "My uncle will be very angry."

"If he identifies you, and assures us that it was by his authority you borrowed the coat, we will apologize."

"But that won't make up to me for your unwarrantable interference. Take the coat and let me go."

In spite of his protestations, however, Mr. Charles Drayton, as he called himself, was escorted to the nearest police station and held for examination. He was tried, and would have been sentenced to a term of imprisonment, Mr. Silas Drayton disclaiming all relationship, had not the old gentleman taken pity on him and declined to prosecute.

It appeared at the trial that the young man was well known to the police as Sidney Marvin, an expert thief, born in London, but for three years a resident of the United States. Mr. Drayton was blamed for allowing him to escape punishment, but he was a soft-hearted man, and disposed to give the young man another chance.

CHAPTER XXVIII.
RUPERT RESIGNS HIS SITUATION

Rupert had been a bell-boy for more than a year. He found his employers very pleasant and considerate, and his salary was larger, probably, than he could get anywhere else. Still the position was not likely to lead to anything better, unless he might in time qualify himself to be a hotel clerk.

Sometimes he talked over the matter with Leslie, but the latter had the advantage of knowing just what he aspired to. He was determined some day to be an actor, and was content to remain in his present place till there was an opening for him on the stage.

One day Rupert received a letter from Colorado. He knew, of course, that the letter was written by his old acquaintance, Giles Packard, from whom he heard occasionally. This was the letter:

"Friend Rupert—

"I have been meaning for some time to write to you, but my mode of life is not favorable to letter-writing, and whenever I take my pen in hand I feel as awkward as a Chinaman would with a knife and fork. I think it is three months since I heard from you, but I hope you are well and getting on nicely. How is the little boy you took charge of? It was a pretty big responsibility for a lad of your age, but I am sure you would take better care of him than a good many older persons.

"Don't forget that you promised to let me know if you needed some help. Even small boys cost something to bring up, and I have plenty, while you are only beginning life. I suppose you are still a bell-boy at the Somerset Hotel. Now that is a good position for a boy, but it seems to me that it is about time you took up something else. Before choosing what it shall be, I want you to come out and make me a visit. I feel pretty lonely sometimes, having neither 'chick nor child,' unless I count you. I think it would do you good to see a little something of the far West. I inclose a draft for two hundred dollars for your expenses out here. If all is right I want you either to ask for a vacation or leave your situation, and start as soon as you can. Don't be afraid, for I will see that you don't suffer, even if you don't get a new place right off."

Here followed some directions as to finding him, and then the letter ended.

The proposal struck Rupert favorably. He had a natural desire to travel, and had a great anxiety to see Chicago and other places, of which he had heard a great deal.

He went at once to the proprietor of the hotel and showed him the letter.

"You want to accept the invitation, I suppose?" said the landlord.

"Yes, sir, if it won't inconvenience you."

"As it happens, one of my old friends wants me to give his son a place in the hotel. I had thought of discharging Leslie to make room for him, but if you really wish to give up your position I will put him in your place."

"That will suit me, sir."

"But in that case I cannot take you back on your return."

"I will not expect you to do so. I think I can find something outside, and Mr. Packard agreed to see me through."

"That draft looks like it. I will send for the boy at once, and during the balance of the week you can instruct him in his duties."

"I am sorry you are going, Rupert," said Leslie. "If you get acquainted with any managers on your Western trip, speak a good word for me."

"I will."

"I am going to play at a benefit next week, Wednesday. It is a variety entertainment, and I am to give imitations of celebrated actors. I've got Irving down fine. You ought to stay and see me."

"Perhaps you will give me a private rehearsal. It wouldn't be convenient for me to put off my journey."

"I will. Come into my room to-night, and you shall see me imitate Irving, Booth and Joe Jefferson."

Rupert stayed two days in Chicago, and visited the principal localities, including Jackson Park, soon to become known all over the country as the site of the World's Fair. He was impressed with the business activity and greatness of the Queen City of the West, and left it reluctantly at the end of two days. At the railroad station, while purchasing his ticket to Denver, his attention was called to a tall old man who looked to be nearly seventy. He was thin and bent, and his face was sad. His suit was black, but it was well-worn and looked shabby. His eyes were fixed on Rupert as he bought his ticket, and he heaved a sigh.

"I envy you, young man," he said in answer to Rupert's inquiring look.

"Why so?" asked the bell-boy.

"Because you are going to Denver."

"Do you wish to go there?"

"Yes, but it is impossible."

"Why is that? Won't your business permit you?"

"Alas, I have no business. I came to Chicago from my old home in Rochester, New York, hoping to get a situation as bookkeeper. I understand bookkeeping thoroughly, and for fifteen years occupied that position in one of the largest firms in Buffalo. But they went out of business, and I was thrown on my own resources."

"Had you not laid up any money?"

"Yes. I took what I had, and went by invitation to make my home at the house of a niece in Rochester who was married to a man named Jackson. I had three thousand dollars, and I thought that if I should get something to do I might with the help of that live comfortably for the balance of my days. That was a year ago, and I was then sixty-five. I can hardly expect to live many years, and I considered myself well provided for.

"Well, I sought out my niece, and was cordially received by her husband and herself after they learned that I had money. I agreed to board with them, and sought a position in my old line. But a man over sixty is at a disadvantage when he is seeking employment. In vain I showed a first-class recommendation from my past employers in Buffalo.

"'I dare say you understand your business,' one and another said to me, 'but you are too old for us. We want a young man who can hustle.'

"'But I can hustle, too,' I said.

"They only laughed.

"'You are too old to work. You ought to retire,' they said.

"I reported my disappointment to my niece and her husband.

"'Uncle John,' said my nephew, 'I feel for you, and I will try to do something for you. I think I can make a place for you in my store. I can't afford to pay you high wages. If you will work for ten dollars a week I will employ you.'

"I was very glad to accept this proposal, though I had in my time been paid a hundred dollars a month.

"I entered the store, and had reason to think that I was doing satisfactory work. But at the end of three weeks Eben Jackson called me aside and said: 'Uncle John, I have been figuring up my expenses, and I don't see how I can afford to employ you.'

"'You wish me to go, then?'

"'I shall have to dispense with your services unless I can get additional capital to enlarge my business.'

"Presently he made me a proposal.

"'If you will lend me three thousand dollars,' he said, 'and allow me to use it in my business, I will pay you six per cent. interest, and advance your wages to twelve dollars a week.'

"I thought over this proposal and determined to accept it. Eben Jackson was very plausible and smooth-spoken, and I saw no reason to doubt him. I transferred my small capital to him. He increased his stock, but only by five hundred dollars' worth, as I afterwards ascertained, and I continued to work for him. For a month he paid me twelve dollars per week, then he reduced me to ten, on the plea that business was poor, afterwards to eight, and finally he allowed me only my board. I became indignant and demanded my money back, but he absolutely refused to repay it. I consulted a lawyer, but found upon inquiry that he had made over all his property to his wife. I saw that nothing was to be expected, and a month since I left Rochester and came to Chicago, in the hope of finding employment here."

CHAPTER XXIX.
THE ST. JAMES HOTEL, IN DENVER

"What has been your success here, Mr. Plympton?" inquired Rupert.

"No better than in Rochester. Why is it that no one is willing to employ an old man? I am in good bodily health, and I can do as good work as I ever could, but no one will have me."

"Chicago seems to be a city of young men—more so than New York."

"Have you noticed that? Some of the successful business men are men young enough to be my sons."

"I understand you to say that you wished to go to Denver. Have you any reason to think you will succeed any better there?"

"No, but I have a nephew somewhere in Colorado, and perhaps in Denver. If I can fall in with him, I am sure he will help me. I haven't seen Giles for twenty years, but—"

"Giles!" repeated Rupert, in surprise. "What is his full name?"

"Giles Packard. He is my sister's son."

"Well, that is astonishing," ejaculated Rupert.

"What is astonishing?"

"Your nephew is my particular friend, and I am going out to Colorado at his special invitation."

"Is it possible?" asked the old man, eagerly. "Then you know where he lives?"

"Yes."

"Will you tell him you met me, and ask him if he will send money to bring me on to where he lives? Giles was always good-hearted, and I am sure he will do it."

"It won't be necessary to wait. I will buy you another ticket, and take you on with me."

John Plympton's face lighted up with joy.

"How kind you are," he said, grasping Rupert's hand. "I hope when you are old you will find some one who will be as kind to you. You are not related to me in any way, you only saw me within the hour, yet you are going to do me a great kindness. May heaven bless you."

"Thank you, but don't give me too much credit. I am sure Mr. Packard will approve what I am doing, and will consider it a favor done to himself."

"I hope so, but my niece's treatment has made me uncertain how far the ties of relationship will be regarded. Yet I will accept your offer thankfully."

Rupert lost no time in purchasing another ticket, and secured Pullman accommodations for himself and his new acquaintance.

"You used to live in Buffalo," he said.

"Yes, I worked in one place there for fifteen years."

"Did you ever hear of the firm of Rollins & Lorimer?"

"Certainly. They were dry-goods merchants."

"I am Rupert Rollins, son of the senior partner."

"Is it possible? I knew your father well. He was a fine man."

"I am glad to hear you say so."

"But I didn't like Mr. Lorimer as well."

"I have little reason to like him, for he ruined my poor father, and indirectly caused his death."

"I am not surprised to hear it. I never had any dealings with Mr. Lorimer, but I knew his reputation. Is your mother living?"

"Yes, thank God, she is living, and my sister Grace as well."

"Did your father lose all his property?"

"All."

"How, then, is your mother getting along?"

Rupert explained.

"And yourself? Are you in any employment?"

"I have been a bell-boy in a New York hotel for the last year and a half."

"You could hardly be very well paid."

"Yes, I received larger pay than I would have received in a mercantile house. But I have finally given up the business."

"What do you propose to do?"

"I shall ask the advice of your nephew. He is a very good friend of mine—the best I have outside my own family with one exception—and I shall be guided by what he says."

"I wish I had been able to go to him instead of to my niece and her husband."

"I don't see how they could have treated you so meanly."

"Mary would have treated me better, but she is under the thumb of her husband, and he is as mean a man as I ever encountered."

"Excepting Mr. Lorimer."

"There isn't much choice between them."

"Did he give you a note for the three thousand dollars you lent him?"

"Yes, I have his note—but what is it worth?"

"Keep it and show it to Mr. Packard. He may be able to advise you how to secure it."

"Do you know if Giles has been successful? Has he bettered himself in Colorado?"

"I have reason to think that he is a rich man. He has been very kind to me, who am a recent acquaintance, and I am sure he will not turn his back upon his uncle."

This assurance brightened up the old man, who rapidly recovered his cheerfulness, and looked forward to a meeting with the nephew whom he had not seen for twenty years.

Rupert had telegraphed to Mr. Packard when he would reach Denver, and received a return telegram directing him to go to the St. James Hotel. Thither he repaired, taking his companion with him.

Mr. Plympton displayed some anxiety as they were approaching Denver.

"Perhaps my nephew will receive me coldly," he said. "If he does, there will be nothing left me but destitution and the poorhouse."

"Don't be alarmed, Mr. Plympton," rejoined Rupert. "You have not seen your nephew for twenty years. I have met him more recently, and I probably know him better than you. Leave all in my hands. I will speak to him about you."

They reached the St. James, and Rupert engaged rooms for both. On examining the hotel register he found that Giles Packard had already arrived. He had been in the hotel hardly half an hour when Mr. Packard entered.

His face lighted up with pleasure when he saw Rupert.

"I am delighted to see you, Rupert," he said. "Somehow you seem very near to me. I shall take you, after a day or two in Denver, to my cattle ranch near Red Gulch, and I think I can promise you a good time and a comfortable home for as long as you are willing to stay."

"Have you room for another, Mr. Packard? I have brought a companion with me."

"Why, certainly. Any friend of yours shall have a cordial welcome."

"But he is nearer to you than to me."

Mr. Packard's face expressed surprise.

"I don't understand you."

"I found a relative of yours in Chicago. He was in hard luck, and I thought you would be willing to help him. Here he is."

He led Giles Packard up to his uncle, who anxiously scanned the face of his nephew.

"Don't you know me, Giles?" he asked, in a tremulous tone.

"Surely you are not my Uncle John?"

"The same. I hope you will forgive me for seeking you out."

"Don't speak like that, Uncle John. I have not forgotten that I am your nephew."

"But, Giles, I come to you as a pauper."

"I have enough for us both. Did you save nothing, then, by your long years of business?"

"I saved three thousand dollars."

Then he explained how he had been defrauded of it by Eben Jackson.

Giles Packard's face became stern.

"The scoundrel!" he exclaimed. "And after he got your money he had no further use for you?"

"No, he turned me out to starve."

"You were very imprudent in trusting him with the money."

"So I was, but he promised, if I lent it to him, that he would give me a position in his store."

"And he broke his promise?"

"No; he employed me for about two months, but in the end he would only give me my board, and refused to let me have money enough to buy a suit of clothes. Then I became indignant and left the house."

"Did you make an effort to recover the money?"

"Yes, but it was of no use. He refused to give it back."

"He must have given you a note?"

"Yes, I have his note."

"I will give you the money, and you will transfer the note to me. He will find me a different customer to deal with."

"Keep the money yourself, Giles, and pay me interest on it. I shall not be afraid to trust you."

"I will. If I treat you as Eben Jackson did, may I lose my property and become a pauper."

"You are sure you can afford to do this, Giles? You have accumulated some property?"

"Well," answered Giles, smiling, "I am not a millionaire, but I think perhaps I might realize seventy-five thousand dollars if I should take account of stock. I have been very successful in gathering property, but I have had a great many lonely hours."

"Don't you need a bookkeeper?" asked the old man, eagerly.

"Yes, I can find you something to do in your own line, Uncle John. My business isn't very complicated, but I find it necessary to keep some accounts. I will give you a home and you shall want for nothing. Has Eben Jackson got any children?"

"Yes, he has two, a boy and a girl. They are fourteen and eleven."

"What sort of children are they?"

"The boy is like his father. He never treated me with respect, but looked upon me as a poor relation. The girl is of a better disposition."

"And they would be among my heirs. I will look them up some day, and shape my will accordingly. Shall you be ready to go back with me on Monday, Rupert?"

"I will be ready whenever you are, Mr. Packard."