CHAPTER XX. ON THE WAY TO NEW YORK
Harry stepped on board the train without seeing any one whom he knew, and took a seat on the right-hand side. Just in front of him was anelderly farmer, with a face well browned by exposure to the sun andwind. He had a kindly face, and looked sociable. It was not long beforehe addressed our young hero.
"Going to New York?" he asked.
"Yes, sir."
"Are you acquainted there?"
"No, sir; not much."
"Nor I. I was thinking you might be able to direct me to a place where Icould get money for some cowpons."
"Government coupons?" inquired Harry, becoming interested.
"Yes. You see, my wife's uncle died not long ago, and left Sarah agovernment bond of a thousand dollars, drawing six per cent interest. There's thirty dollars due the first of this month, and I told Sarahthat I'd go and collect it for her."
"I've got some business of that same kind," said Harry. "I was toldthere were brokers' offices in Wall Street, where I could collect themoney without any trouble."
"I'll go with you," said the farmer, in a tone of satisfaction. "Ifhe'll buy yours, he'll buy mine."
"I shall be glad to have your company," said Harry, politely.
It flattered his vanity that a man old enough to be his grandfather wasdisposed to be guided by him in a matter of such importance.
Just then a smooth voice was heard from the seat behind.
"Gentlemen," said a young man, showily dressed and with a profusion ofrings on his fingers, "excuse my interrupting you, but I may be able tosave you some trouble."
They naturally waited for an explanation of these words.
"I overheard you saying that you had some coupons to dispose of."
"Yes," replied the farmer, eagerly.
"I am myself a banker and broker, and deal in government securities. Ifthe amount is not too large, I will buy your coupons and pay for them atonce."
"That will be handy," said the farmer. "I've got thirty dollars incowpons."
"And you, my young friend?" said the so-called broker, addressing
Harry.
"I have rather more than that," said Harry, in a reserved tone.
Somehow, he was suspicious of the plausible stranger.
"I will pay you a higher price than most houses, besides saving you allthe trouble," said the broker, insinuatingly, as he drew out a capaciouswallet, and, opening it, exhibited a pile of bills.
The farmer immediately drew out his coupon.
"Let me see," said the broker; "thirty dollars, gold at the presentpremium comes to thirty-six dollars."
"Thirty-six dollars!" repeated the farmer, complacently. "Sarah'll feelrich when she gets that money."
"Here's your money," said the broker, producing three ten-dollar bills, a five and a one. "The bills are new, you perceive."
The farmer put away the bills in his old wallet, and the strangerslipped the coupon carelessly into his vest pocket.
"Now, my young friend, I am ready to attend to your matter," he said, turning to Harry.
"I won't trouble you," said Harry, coldly; "I prefer to dispose of thecoupons in the city."
"Just as you like; but you would do better to deal with me."
"Why?" asked Harry.
"In the city they will allow you but a hundred and nineteen for gold."
"How is it you can afford to do better by me?" asked Harry, shrewdly.
"Our house makes a point of dealing liberally with their customers," said the broker.
"What is the name of your firm?"
"Chase & Atkins," answered the other glibly. "I am a relative of Salmon
Chase, ex-secretary of the treasury, and, since, chief justice of the
Supreme Court."
"You don't say!" ejaculated the farmer. "Salmon Chase is a great man."
"So he is. Thank you, sir, for your appreciation of my distinguishedrelative. Of course, it doesn't make me any better to be related to thatgreat man, but I am naturally proud of it."
"Hadn't you better sell your coupons to him?" asked the farmer, who wasquite prepossessed in favor of the gentlemanly stranger.
"No, sir; I was instructed to sell in Wall Street, and I prefer to doso."
"Oh, just as you please," said Mr. Chase. "You will lose by it, butthat's your affair. Good-morning, gentlemen. I have a friend in the nextcar."
So saying, he bowed, and left the car.
"Well, my business was easily done," said the farmer.
"Will you allow me to look at the bills he gave you?" asked Harry.
"Sartain! Why?" and the farmer drew out his wallet.
Harry took one of the bills in his hand and examined it carefully, buthe was not an expert, and could not judge whether it was good or not.
"Don't you think it's good?" asked the farmer, uneasily.
"I presume it is; but I didn't like the looks of the man you haddealings with."
"He is of good family," said the farmer.
"He says he is," responded Harry, significantly, "and I hope it's allright. We'll wait till the conductor comes along, and ask him about thebills."
Fifteen minutes elapsed, however, before that official made his rounds, and during that time the train stopped at two stations. At one of theseHarry's suspicions were increased by seeing that Mr. Chase got out.
At last the conductor appeared, and Harry passed him the bill.
"Is that bill good?" he asked.
The conductor held it up to the light, and shook his head.
"No," he said; "it's one of a quantity of counterfeits that has latelymade its appearance. Where did you get it?"
"It belongs to me," said the farmer, his honest countenance exhibitingmuch distress. "I took it in payment for some cowpons."
"Who gave it to you?"
An explanation was given.
"I noticed the man," said the conductor. "He is a well-known swindler.
Have you got any more?"
The others were exhibited. Out of them all the conductor declared thatonly the one-dollar bill was genuine.
Probably it had not been thought worth while to counterfeit a bill of solow a denomination.
"Oh, what'll Sarah say?" ejaculated the distressed farmer. "What atarnal fool I've been! She wanted me to buy her a nice dress out of it, and I've only got a dollar left!"
"Perhaps the man may be caught," suggested Harry.
"I don't believe it. Simon Jones, you ain't fit to go around alone.
You're as green as – as – a gooseberry!"
Harry pitied him, but was unable to offer any adequate consolation.
"Will you give me your name and address?" he said. "And, if I can hearanything of your coupons, or the man that swindled you, I'll write andlet you know."
"Will you? I'm obleeged to you," said the farmer, who had formed quite ahigh idea of our hero's sagacity from his declining the trap into whichhe himself had fallen. "My name is Simon Jones, of Crabtree Hollow, Connecticut."
Harry entered it in a little memorandum book which he carried.
At length the great city was reached, and the crowd of passengersdispersed in different directions.
It was over a year since Harry had been in the city, and he was not veryfamiliar with it, but he had a modest confidence in his ability to getalong.
"Shine yer boots, guv'nor?" asked a ragged bootblack.
"How much?" Harry asked. "Seein' it's you, I'll only ask ten cents," returned the street boy.
"Thank you. I blacked my own boots before I left home."
"Do you call that a shine?" said the boy, contemptuously, as his glancerested on Harry's shoes, which certainly did not vie in polish withthose operated upon by city bootblacks.
"It'll do for me," answered Harry, good-naturedly.
"Mornin' papers —Herald, Times, Tribune, World!" called a newsboy.
"Give me a Herald," said Harry, who suddenly bethought himself of thetin box, and was anxious to find out whether any allusion was made tothe theft in the morning papers.
He opened the paper, and his eyes ran hastily over the crowded columns.