The Adventures of a Boy Reporter
by
Harry Steele Morrison

Part 3 out of 3



glad to have you say a few words about your experiences during the
last few months." Archie was quite dumbfounded. It had never occurred
to him that he was a person so important as to be interviewed, but he
was willing and glad to accommodate the reporters, and told them to
accompany him to his hotel. Once there, he answered all their
questions, and didn't find it hard at all to give them his opinion of
the situation in the Philippines, and what he thought should be done
by the government to stop the rebellion. "The President will soon put
an end to it," he said, "if he can only have the support of Congress.
But as long as there are members of Congress fighting his policy, the
insurgents are going to continue their insane efforts to establish an
independent government." And some of the reporters smiled to hear so
young a fellow talking about the policy in the Philippines. They felt
that he was well-informed, however, and put down every word he said.

The interviews over, Archie and Bill went early to bed. The Enterprise
correspondent had telegraphed the news of their arrival to New York,
and had received word from Mr. Van Bunting to send them on to New York
at once. So, early in the morning, the two started for the East, and
the train seemed to travel quite as slowly as the steamer. "It does
seem good to be in our own country again," they said a hundred times
during the days that followed, and when they reached the Empire State
and began their journey down the Hudson River, Archie could hardly
restrain his enthusiasm at being again in his native commonwealth.

There was quite a delegation at the Grand Central Station to meet
them. Mr. Jennings was there in person, and he explained that Mr. Van
Bunting was waiting anxiously at the office to see him. Then there
were reporters from the various other city papers, who wanted
interviews, but Archie was told to say whatever he had to say in the
columns of the Enterprise, so he had to deny the reporters for the
first time. Bill Hickson was introduced at once, and became the lion
of the hour. Every one had read of him, and was glad to shake his
hand, and poor Bill was quite bewildered by so much attention. They
didn't linger long at the station, however, but hurried down to the
Enterprise office, where Mr. Van Bunting was awaiting them. He grasped
Archie's hand in his as they entered, and cried, "Well done, my boy,
well done." And Archie felt as if he had grown three feet that
instant.

CHAPTER XXIV.

DOING "SPECIAL" WORK UPON THE EVENING PAPER-- INTERVIEWS WITH FAMOUS
MEN-- CALLS UPON OLD FRIENDS.

THERE was so much to tell Mr. Jennings and Mr. Van Bunting, that
Archie didn't get away from the Enterprise office until seven o'clock
in the evening. And what a lot they did say to each other during the
afternoon! Archie told of all his experiences, and found them all
anxious to hear about them. He learned, to his joy, that everything he
had sent had been printed, and that the articles had made a great hit
with the public. "We would have liked to keep you there longer, but we
knew you must be worn out, and then we want you to stay right here,
now, and see if you cannot get us some good interviews and articles of
various kinds for the Evening Enterprise. The paper has been losing
ground somewhat, of late, and we need some new life for its pages. Of
course the morning paper profited greatly by your articles, but the
evening edition seemed very weak in comparison, and we think it only
fair to Mr. Jennings to let him have you on his staff for awhile now.
So if you are willing, you can start in to-morrow as a member of the
staff. We will see that you are well paid for what you write, or we
will put you on salary, whichever you like. You can think it over, and
in the morning you can tell us which plan you like best."

Archie wanted to ask for a few days' absence to return home, but he
felt, somehow, that he ought not to ask it just now. So he contented
himself with writing a long letter to his mother, in which he enclosed
a very large check, money which he had not used on his return to New
York. He told her that he would be home just as soon as he could get
off for any length of time, and he knew that she would now be looking
forward to the visit every day. She had written him about the
enthusiasm displayed by every one over his achievements, and how proud
she was of what he had accomplished. "I think I am the proudest mother
in the country," she wrote one day, and this sentence made Archie very
happy, of course, and more anxious than ever to return home. He
received a letter, too, from Jack Sullivan, telling him how much the
boys all thought of his success, and how every member of the Hut Club
had longed time and again to be with him. "It all reads just like some
book," Jack wrote, "and we are dying to have you come home and tell us
all about it." Then his mother sent him clippings from the town
papers, eulogising his efforts, and calling him the "coming man of the
State." All this was very pleasant and very encouraging, and Archie
couldn't help having a kindly feeling for the townsfolk who thought so
much of him.

New York was as delightful as ever. It was now the last of April, and
the trees were all green with fresh leaves, and the numerous little
parks scattered over the city were looking their very best. The
asphalt pavements looked clean and elegant when Archie thought of some
other streets he had seen, and the tall office buildings lifted their
ornate domes and cupolas into a sky of clear blue. "Surely," he
thought to himself, "this is the most charming city in all the world."
Fifth Avenue, with its crowds of fashionable folk, and its throng of
vehicles, was a delight of which he never tired, and when he went into
the Bowery, just to see how things were looking now, he found it quite
as interesting and as dirty as in the fall.

But the first place he visited was the dear little square away
down-town, where he had lived during those few happy days spent in New
York. It, too, looked the same, only the flowers and grass were
fresher now, and the fountain seemed to flow more joyously, now that
spring was here. The house where he had lodged was as clean as ever,
and Archie at once decided to engage a room here, where he could have
his New York home. So he called upon the motherly landlady, and was
glad to learn that the room he had first was still vacant, and that he
could take possession at once.

As before, when he came to this house, Archie was almost out of
clothing, so he went out and fitted himself with everything he needed.
And this time he felt able to buy the best to be had, for he thought
he had now earned the privilege to dress well if he liked. And then,
when he had everything he needed to wear, he went out and bought many
pretty things for his room, for he felt that he would like to have it
just as cosy and home-like as possible. He wasn't able to do much at
it this first night, but in the succeeding days he furnished the place
in a charming way, so that the landlady said it was the "handsomest
room in the house, sir." The dear old lady could hardly understand
this great change in her lodger's circumstances. She worried about it
very often, and discussed the question with many of the neighbours.
"He come here last fall looking mighty poor-like, but, lawsy me, he's
as fine now as any man on the avenue." And she never did understand it
until one day she learned that her lodger was the "very young man who
had been to the war in the Philippines, and writ about his battles in
the Enterprise."

There was no ceremony when Archie began work on the evening paper. Mr.
Jennings told him that he thought they understood each other pretty
well, and that he could use his own discretion, very often, about
getting articles. "You can be as independent as you like, Archie," he
said, "and use your own ideas as much as you like." This pleased the
boy very much indeed. He was beginning to feel now that he had really
won his spurs, and that he was a full-fledged journalist. It seemed
scarcely possible that it had taken him little more than six months to
make this great advance in circumstances, and yet he could see himself
a few months previous, sleeping in the station-house. Now his days of
poverty were surely over, and he would have a clear path ahead of him
to accomplish his great ambition to be a successful author and writer
of books. For the present, it was good experience for him to be
working upon the Enterprise, and he felt that he ought to be very much
contented, since there were men old enough to be his father who were
not earning as much money.

He liked the work upon the evening paper very much. He didn't have to
get down early in the morning, and at three o'clock in the afternoon
he was always through. He was very glad indeed that there was no night
work, for he now spent his evenings in studying shorthand, which he
thought might be helpful to him in many ways. He didn't have much
routine work to do upon the paper in the beginning, but he told Mr.
Jennings that he would like to get as much experience as possible, so
the good editor gave him a lot of regular reporting to do, as well as
the special work which was daily featured in the paper. This special
work consisted of interviews with various successful men. Archie had
always felt a great admiration for men who had "done something," and
as New York was simply filled with wealthy and successful men, who had
started as poor boys, he found a wide field for work. He found it very
interesting to meet these men of affairs, and have them tell him of
their early struggles, how they had begun on the farm or in the
factory, and had worked themselves up through industry and
perseverance to the high places they now occupied. He found it very
easy to get access to most of them, for they had all read of his
experiences in the Enterprise, and Archie found that his fame as the
"Boy Reporter" was quite general and widespread. Some of the great men
were quite as much determined to interview him as he was anxious to
interview them, so that he usually got along very well by telling them
first of his own experiences, and then asking them about their own
boyhood days. It was work that never became monotonous, for each day
he saw a man quite different in most respects from the man he had
interviewed the day before, and of course every one had something
different to say.

These interviews proved very successful when published in the Evening
Enterprise, and Mr. Jennings had him continue them during all the
weeks Archie was connected with the paper. And of course he did other
things, too, work which took him into every part of the great city,
looking up this event, or investigating this reported disappearance or
murder. Archie was quite successful in this line, too, and, as he was
being paid by the column, his weekly income was something larger than
he had ever dared to hope for in all his life. He was now enabled to
study his stenography at the best school, and to indulge himself in
many things which had been denied him before. He could, for instance,
attend the performances of grand opera, and hear the great musical
artists of the world. He was able, too, to read the best literature,
and he gradually learned to appreciate all the many good things in
life. He was very glad to find himself broadening in such a way, for
he realised that he would not always want to be a "Boy Reporter," and
that he had better be developing his mind in every possible way.

He had not been back long in New York before he met all his old
friends. One of the first upon whom he called was the good policeman
who had been so very kind to him when he had no place to sleep. The
large-hearted man was as enthusiastic over his success as if he had
been his own son, and Archie felt that here was one true friend upon
whom he could always depend. The policeman never tired of telling
about that first night when he found Archie walking up and down
Broadway, and he always spoke of him to the other officers as "that
boy of mine." So the boy, who was now a full-fledged reporter, spent
as much time with this friend as possible, and many a time he sat at
the station-house telling them all of his adventures in the Orient.

Another friend whom he met was the great railway president with whom
he had travelled to Chicago on his way to San Francisco. Archie had
liked this man from the very first, and he felt that in him he would
always find a friend, because he had shown such interest in his first
undertaking. And when he called upon him in his elegant office, he
received a very cordial greeting.

"No, indeed," said the great man of affairs, "I have never forgotten
our trip West together, and I have followed you with much interest
through the columns of the Enterprise. And I am glad that you are back
again in New York, for I hope to see a great deal of you. You must
come up to my house some evening and tell us all about yourself."

Archie was naturally much surprised to receive an invitation of this
kind, but he resolved to accept it, nevertheless.

Bill Hickson was now employed in the Brooklyn navy yard. He had been
featured for several days in the Enterprise, and had enjoyed the
excitement of New York for awhile, but he decided he would like to be
at work. So one day Archie learned that he was working at the navy
yard.

"I've got to be with Uncle Sam," was all the reason Bill would give
for his action.

CHAPTER XXV.

PRIVATE SECRETARY TO A MILLIONAIRE-- STUDYING AT EVENING SCHOOL-- LIVING
AMID ELEGANT SURROUNDINGS.

IT was now September. Archie had been in New York the whole summer
through, attending carefully to his work on the Evening Enterprise,
and continuing his study of stenography. He had taken occasional trips
to Long Branch and Asbury Park on Saturday afternoons, but every other
day he spent in working up ideas for the paper, and each evening he
devoted to the shorthand school. By this time, though, he felt that he
knew all that was necessary of shorthand, and found himself more free
to go about in the evenings. He visited his friends more frequently,
and sometimes spent whole evenings in studying works on English
literature, for he was ambitious to know more of the great work he had
decided to make his own. This study was not really work to him, for
his interest in everything connected with literature was so great that
he found a pleasure in reading even the most classical books on the
subject, and of course so much reading of this sort did a great deal
to educate his mind along this line of work.

One evening in the early fall, Archie decided to accept the invitation
of Mr. Depaw, the railway president, to call. So he carefully dressed
himself in the best he had, and walked up Fifth Avenue and into the
side street where the great man had his home. He rang the bell and
presented his card, and waited in the drawing-room for an answer. The
footman was gone but a moment, and returning, announced that the
family would be down directly. Archie was very much pleased that he
was to meet the entire family, and looked about him with great
interest at the elegant furnishings of the room in which he sat. He
couldn't help thinking how lovely it must be to have so many books, so
many pictures, and so many works of art of every kind. The boy thought
then that he would like to be a wealthy man, just to be able to
gratify his desires for beautiful things.

He had to wait only a short time before the genial Mr. Depaw entered
the room, accompanied by several members of the family. Archie was
greeted very warmly, and introduced to every one, and then they
immediately began an animated conversation, in which Archie soon found
himself taking an active part, much to his surprise. He felt that he
had never before realised what a great gift it is to be able to talk
entertainingly, and this evening was a revelation to him in the ways
of good society. He found that every one was much interested in the
story of his adventures, and he talked more about them than for a long
time past. He was now beginning to feel that his Philippine
experiences were an old story, but he learned that they were quite as
entertaining as ever to these people. But they did not talk entirely
about Archie. They realised that this would be embarrassing to him,
and they were careful to guide the conversation into a discussion of
music and literature, and whatever else they imagined him to like. And
so it was that the evening passed very quickly, and it was time to
leave before he knew it. Then he was asked to be sure to call again,
and Mr. Depaw, as he accompanied him to the door, requested him to
call at his office on the following Wednesday, if possible. Archie
promised, and walked home down the avenue, wondering what it could be
that Mr. Depaw wanted to talk to him about. He didn't worry long about
it, however, but went home and to bed as quickly as possible, for he
had formed a habit of rising at six o'clock in the morning to study.

The days passed quickly until Wednesday, and the afternoon of that day
found Archie in the waiting-room of Mr. Depaw's office. He had not
long to sit there after sending in his card, for the busy man received
him as soon as he could get rid of his present visitor. He shook
Archie warmly by the hand as he entered, and then, pulling two chairs
together, they sat down. "I have been thinking for some time," said
Mr. Depaw, "that I need a sort of private secretary. Of course I have
men here at the office who take dictation from me, and who fulfil the
duties of a secretary to a certain extent, but I want a young man who
can attend somewhat to my personal affairs; I want one whom I can
trust, and one who is likely to grow as he works along, so that
eventually he may be able to fill any place I may have open for him."
Then he stopped a moment, and Archie felt his heart beating very fast
beneath his coat. He waited almost breathlessly to hear what Mr. Depaw
would say next.

"Ever since I met you first," he at last went on, "I have somehow
thought that you are the kind of a young fellow I would like. You are
ambitious, you are persevering, and you are willing to learn. You say,
too, that you know shorthand, and I know that you are a good penman.
You have seen quite a little of the world, I am sure, and I think you
can prove yourself equal to almost any occasion. The only question is
whether you will care to give up reporting for a position of this
kind. I can assure you that I will pay you as much as you are earning
now, and I shall be glad to offer you a home at my house, because I
shall want you at my right hand all the time. Do you think you will
care to take the place?"

Archie could hardly speak, it was all so wonderful, but finally he
recovered himself sufficiently to explain his hesitancy in accepting
the position. "I would like just one day," he said, "to consult with
my friends on the newspaper. You see Mr. Jennings and Mr. Van Bunting
have been very good to me, and I shouldn't care to leave them now if
they object very strongly."

"That's quite right, quite right," said Mr. Depaw. "I can appreciate
your feelings, and you can tell the editor that you will have some
time for writing, and that you will contribute occasional articles to
his paper." Archie was now delighted. "Oh, thank you," he cried. "I am
sure I can come now."

"Well, come in at this time to-morrow," said Mr. Depaw, "and let me
know what you have decided to do."

Archie hurried at once to Mr. Jennings's office to tell him the good
news. He wondered how his friend would take it, but all his fears were
soon put at rest. "Archie," said Mr. Jennings, "this is the best
opportunity you can ever have to improve yourself in every way. Mr.
Depaw is a man highly respected all over the country, and a man who is
known to be extraordinary in many ways. Association with such a man
will do more for you than four years in college, and you will make a
mistake if you do not accept his offer. Of course we shall all be
sorry to lose you here, but, as Mr. Depaw says, you will have some
time for writing, and we hope you will always continue to do some work
for us."

Archie could almost have thrown his arms about Mr. Jennings's neck to
hug him for his splendid feeling, and when, a little later, Mr. Van
Bunting said practically the same thing, he felt that he had never
known two such men. He assured them both that he would never forget
them, but would try and spend as much time as possible in the
Enterprise office.

The next day he called again on Mr. Depaw, and told him of his
decision to accept the place, and the good man seemed overjoyed. "I
will see that you never forget it, Archie," he said. It was arranged
for him to begin work the very next day. "You can transfer your things
to my house as soon as you like, for your room is waiting for you, and
I will begin to-morrow to teach you how to do things."

And now Archie found it hard to leave the dear little room in the
quaint old square, which was looking now just as when he saw it first.
The leaves in the trees were turning brown and gold, and Archie
realised that he had been away from home more than a year. "Oh, I must
go back soon," he said to himself, "or I shall simply die of
homesickness."

In a couple of days he was installed as a member of the Depaw
household, and he soon felt at home there. Every one was very kind to
him, he was given a handsome room, and everything seemed almost
perfect. One of the best things about it all was that he had access to
the fine library, and he longed for the long winter evenings when he
could devour the many interesting books he saw there. He was soon
initiated into his work, and it was much easier than he had expected.
Mr. Depaw, of course, started him very gradually, so that he learned
as he went along. Every morning at eight o'clock he was in the library
with Mr. Depaw, taking dictation, and receiving instructions for the
day. They remained together here until ten o'clock, when Mr. Depaw
either walked or drove to his office. Archie always accompanied him,
and took charge of some of the mail there, attending to it during the
morning. Then at noon he returned to the house, where he spent the
afternoon in writing the letters which had been dictated in the
morning, and in doing various things for Mr. Depaw. The evenings he
always had to himself, and he had no difficulty in finding enough to
do at home without going out. He almost invariably passed the evenings
in reading, but occasionally he was asked to accompany the family to
some musical event at the opera house, for they had soon learned of
his love for music.

In work and study the winter passed quickly and happily for Archie,
who now felt quite at ease amid his elegant surroundings. His only
wish was that he might go home, and as spring approached Mr. Depaw
promised him that he should have a short vacation. The suggestion of
Mr. Depaw that Archie's mother come to New York for a week was
heartily accepted by Archie, but when he wrote home Mrs. Dunn replied
that she would rather wait for Archie at home. She had never visited
New York, and felt that she wouldn't like it.

Bill Hickson came over very often from the navy yard, and was always a
welcome visitor at Mr. Depaw's office. He didn't seem to care for his
work in Brooklyn, however, and Archie finally requested a place for
him about the elegant new station which the road had just constructed
in the city. Mr. Depaw very readily gave him an excellent position,
one which he could keep always if he so desired. And Bill was highly
pleased with his new work, so much so that he surprised them all one
day in the spring by leading into the once a young lady whom he
introduced as his wife. Of course Archie was very much pleased at this
new development, for he had often thought that his friend must be very
lonely, living in a boarding-house.

The days were all busy ones for Archie now. He had learned the work so
thoroughly that he was given more than ever to do, and he still
continued to write, too, for the Enterprise. He worked too hard,
however, and in April he looked so thin that Mr. Depaw sent him home
for a week's rest.

CHAPTER XXVI.

DECIDES TO VISIT HOME-- A GREAT RECEPTION IN THE TOWN-- A PUBLIC
CHARACTER NOW-- DINNER TO THE HUT CLUB-- DEMONSTRATION AT THE TOWN HALL--
A TELEGRAM FROM HIS EMPLOYER LEAVING FOR EUROPE.

IT was a beautiful April day. There had been a light shower in the
morning, and now everything looked as fresh and green as possible all
along the railway. Archie lay back in his comfortable Wagner seat,
admiring the beauties of spring, and thinking, too, of the days he
spent in walking along this very road. It seemed hard to believe that
he was now secretary to the president of this railroad, and that he
was returning home, after a year and a half, a very successful young
man. He had much to think of in the hours it would take him to reach
the little town. He tried to remember everything about the place, and
his mother as he saw her last, and it wasn't at all difficult for him
to do so. But, oh, how he hoped that things had not changed! He almost
dreaded going home for fear he would find things different.

He had changed, that much was sure. He knew that he had grown to look
much older than his years, and he knew that he was not looking
particularly strong. He used to be so sturdy, and he had such a
splendid colour in his cheeks. Mother would be sorry to see him now,
but of course he would be sure to improve very much during the week he
was to remain among old friends.

He was very anxious to see his boy friends, the members of the Hut
Club, and the boys and girls who were in his class at school. He had
telegraphed his mother that he was coming, so she would probably tell
the boys about it. He was sure they would be there.

Now the stations looked more familiar. This one just passed was near
the Tinch farm, and Archie remembered the days he spent working for
old Hiram, and how he had suffered. He wondered if the farmer had ever
seen any copies of the Enterprise. It would be very interesting to him
to know that his chore-boy was now a secretary to a millionaire. This
next station he remembered very well indeed, because he used to come
here every fall to visit the county fair, where he marvelled at the
wonderful things he saw in the side-shows.

And now the train was entering the limits of his own town. Here was
the old elevator, and the machine shop near the railway track. And,
oh, there was his own home, looking green and pleasant as the train
sped by. It almost brought tears to Archie's eyes to think that he was
so soon to see his mother. Now they had reached the station, and he
stood upon the car platform ready to alight. My, what a crowd there
was! and why did they cheer as he made his appearance? All at once it
dawned upon him that all these people were here to meet him, and to
bid him welcome home. He could hardly speak as he found himself in his
mother's arms, and then he began to shake the hands of the big crowd.
They were all old friends, and then there was the mayor, and the
superintendent of schools, and quite a delegation of leading citizens.
How nice it was of them to welcome him in this way!

After awhile the handshaking was over, and the mayor was able to get a
few minutes with Archie. "We are all very proud of what you have
accomplished," he said, "and we want to give you a public reception
to-morrow night in the town hall, if you don't object." Archie stared
blankly at the mayor, and it was several moments before he realised
the meaning of the words. Then he was almost overcome. It was almost
too good to be true, it seemed, but he warmly thanked the mayor, and
told him how he appreciated the honour which they had done him. He
said that he would be glad to attend the reception.

The crowd was scattering now, and Archie, wild to reach home, took his
mother to a carriage, in which they drove rapidly out to the little
house among the trees and arbours. The old town looked beautiful in
every way. The great maple and oak trees along the road were green
with new leaves, and every dooryard was bright with snowballs and
yellow roses. "This is the very best time of the year," he said to his
mother, "and I am the very happiest boy in all the world."

"And I am the happiest mother," was the answer. Then they sat in
silence until they reached the old home. They entered by the kitchen
door, and, once inside, and seated in the old cane rocking-chair,
Archie bowed his head in tears of joy at being home with mother once
again.

The hours which followed were sweet with joy. Mrs. Dunn busied herself
in preparing the supper, and Archie hung around the kitchen, telling
some of the many things he had planned to tell. Mrs. Dunn was smiling,
and Archie thought her the sweetest mother any boy could have. She was
changed somewhat, but she looked very young to-day.

Supper over, Archie went over the fence to see the Sullivan boys, and
he found them looking much the same. He was truly glad to see them,
and they, of course, were glad to see him, too, though at first they
were just a little bashful, remembering, no doubt, all the things
which had happened to Archie since they saw him last. The boys were
soon telling all about the Hut Club, though, and Archie learned to his
joy that it was still a flourishing organisation. "We spoke of you
every time we were together," said Jack, "and we always wished you
were back again." Archie was delighted to hear that he had been
missed, and all at once an idea came to him which he put into
execution three days later. He determined to give an elegant dinner to
this club of boys, and the very next day he sent to New York for a
caterer to arrange it. He wanted it to be something finer than any of
the boys had ever seen, and it certainly turned out to be so. The
caterer did his best, and when, three days later, the Hut Club sat
down together for the first time in more than eighteen months, they
partook of a dinner which would have done credit to Mr. Depaw's table.
It was a memorable night for them all, and every boy enjoyed himself.

Archie enjoyed this Hut Club dinner more than anything else while he
was at home, though of course the great event of his stay was the
public reception at the Town Hall on the second evening after his
arrival. This was a truly grand affair. The town authorities hired a
brass band, which played inside the hall and out, and there was such a
crowd in attendance that many were turned away from the doors. It was
a night that Archie will never be able to forget. He sat on the
platform, in company with the mayor and other town officials, and he
listened to several speeches congratulating him on what he had
accomplished since leaving the town. Then he had to get up and tell
them all of his experiences, from the time he left until now. He told
it in a simple manner, but from the close attention he received it was
evident his audience was deeply interested. When he had finished,
there were calls for "three cheers for Archie Dunn," and they were
given with a will. Then Archie, rising from his seat, called for
"three cheers for the President of the United States," and they, too,
were given, for Archie had told them all his feelings on the subject
of the President's policy in the war. After this there were three
cheers for Mr. Depaw, whom one man said would be the next United
States Senator from the State. The meeting closed with some cheers for
the New York Enterprise, and then followed a long siege of handshaking
for Archie, who stood beside his mother on the floor in front of the
platform. It was a happy night for them both, and Mrs. Dunn said
afterward that she could never wish for anything more the rest of her
life.

The fourth day of his visit was a Sunday, and, to Archie's joy, brave
Bill Hickson and his wife came up from the city to spend the day. What
a jolly time they had, all day long! They went to church in the
morning, where they saw all the people, it seemed, whom they hadn't
seen before, and in the afternoon there were many callers at the
little house. The evening was spent quietly by the happy four, talking
of old times and plans for the future. The town authorities were
anxious to give Bill Hickson a reception while he was in town, but the
bashful hero declined the honour, and returned with his wife to New
York by the midnight train.

During the two succeeding days Archie talked a great deal with his
mother, and finally gained her consent to come to New York to live in
a year's time. Mrs. Dunn had never really understood that Archie had
so good a position, but now that she realised what a splendid
beginning he had made, she was very willing to come and keep house for
him. This question settled, everything seemed wholly delightful in the
cosy home, and Archie settled down to enjoy the two remaining days of
his visit in quiet rest. He had already much improved during his stay,
and was sure of going back to the city feeling much better than for a
long time past, and this made Mrs. Dunn very happy.

But Archie didn't stay his week out at home. On the fifth night he
attended a reception in his honour at one of the neighbours' houses,
and he was just in the midst of a description of Tokio when a
messenger boy entered with a telegram for him. He opened it at once,
and read it aloud to the company:

"Dear Archie," it said, "return as soon as possible. I sail for Europe
on Saturday's steamer to remain six months, and wish you to accompany
me." It was signed by Mr. Depaw, and there was great applause from the
crowd when he finished reading it. But Archie's face was a study. He
wasn't sure whether he wanted to go to Europe or not, but of course
there was no question about what he should do. He at once telegraphed
a reply, saying that he would reach the city to-morrow at noon,
leaving home on the early morning train.

Of course the reception soon broke up, and Archie walked quietly home
with his mother, who was saddened at the prospect of losing him so
soon again. She soon brightened, however, and began to plan things for
him to do abroad, and soon she entered into the preparation for his
departure with all her heart. But Archie was not so soon made glad,
and he didn't rest until he made his mother promise to accompany him
to the city on the morrow to spend the two days previous to his
departure in helping him get ready. Mrs. Dunn wasn't anxious to make
the trip, but for Archie's sake she consented.

And early the next morning they left for the city, where the time
passed rapidly until the hour of the steamer's sailing. At the pier
they said good-bye. Archie could hardly speak, but Mrs. Dunn was
brave. "Archie," she said, "God has been with you so far and he will
keep you yet. And remember that a boy with honest ambition will always
get along. You are sure to have friends about you always, for you have
proved that you possess energy, perseverance and a good heart." She
said good-bye without a tear, but as the steamer left the pier Archie
saw, on looking back, a sweet mother seated on a coil of rope, with
her handkerchief to her eyes.

THE END.






 


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