The Train Boy E-Book

Horatio Alger Jr.

• Herausgeber: Horatio Alger Jr.
• Kategorie: Gesellschafts- und Liebesromane
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2017

Beschreibung

The Train Boy written by American writer Horatio Alger Jr.. This book is one of many works by him. It has already Published in 1883. Now republish in ebook format. We believe this work is culturally important in its original archival form. While we strive to adequately clean and digitally enhance the original work, there are occasionally instances where imperfections such as blurred or missing pages, poor pictures or errant marks may have been introduced due to either the quality of the original work. Despite these occasional imperfections, we have brought it back into print as part of our ongoing global book preservation commitment, providing customers with access to the best possible historical reprints. We appreciate your understanding of these occasional imperfections, and sincerely hope you enjoy reading this book.

Leseprobe

The Train Boy

By

Horatio Alger Jr.

Table of Contents

CHAPTER I. THE TRAIN FOR CHICAGO.

CHAPTER II. A LEAP FROM THE TRAIN.

CHAPTER III. PAUL PALMER AT HOME.

CHAPTER IV. AN UNWELCOME VISITOR.

CHAPTER V. PAUL TO THE RESCUE.

CHAPTER VI. BIRDS OF A FEATHER.

CHAPTER VII. A REJECTED SUITOR.

CHAPTER VIII THE STRUGGLING ARTIST.

CHAPTER IX. THE FIRST SITTING.

CHAPTER X. MISS FRAMLEY'S ECONOMY.

CHAPTER XI. PAUL GETS INTO TROUBLE.

CHAPTER XII. PAUL'S CRITICAL POSITION.

CHAPTER XIII. GRACE DEARBORN AT HOME.

CHAPTER XIV. THE ARTIST'S SECRET.

CHAPTER XV. A FELLOW-CONSPIRATOR.

CHAPTER XVI. AN UNWELCOME APPEARANCE.

CHAPTER XVII. PAUL DEFENDS HIS MOTHER.

CHAPTER XVIII. GRACE DEARBORN'S PARTY.

CHAPTER XIX. THE ARTIST'S RECREATION.

CHAPTER XX. A PERSEVERING SUITOR.

CHAPTER XXI. MISS FRAMLEY'S MORTIFICATION.

CHAPTER XXII. AN UNEXPECTED CHANGE.

CHAPTER XXIII. A CATASTROPHE.

CHAPTER XXIV. THE TRAIN-WRECKER.

CHAPTER XXV. PAUL CHANGES HIS BUSINESS.

CHAPTER XXVI. MR. BRADFORD'S OFFICE.

CHAPTER XXVII. SERVING A TYRANT.

CHAPTER XVIII. GRACE DEARBORN'S PARTY.

CHAPTER XXIX. THE BOOK-KEEPER'S TRIUMPH.

CHAPTER XXX. PAUL IS PROMOTED.

CHAPTER XXXI. PAUL AND HIS SUCCESSOR.

CHAPTER XXXII. JIM SCOTT.

CHAPTER XXXIII. CHEYENNE.

CHAPTER XXXIV. MAJOR ASHTON IN A QUANDARY.

CHAPTER XXXV. WOOING THE WIDOW.

CHAPTER XXXVI. PAUL SELLS THE MINE.

CHAPTER XXXVII. DIAMOND CUT DIAMOND.

CHAPTER XXXVIII. A SCENE AT OMAHA.

CHAPTER XXXIX. A THIEF FOILED.

CHAPTER XL. THE LADY'S SECRET.

CHAPTER XLI. MAJOR ASHTON'S ENGAGEMENT.

CHAPTER XLII. A REVELATION.

CHAPTER XLIII. MAJOR ASHTON AT BAY.

CHAPTER XLIV. CONCLUSION.

Paul Palmer

CHAPTER I.THE TRAIN FOR CHICAGO.

The four o'clock afternoon train from Milwaukee, bound for Chicago, had just passed Truesdell, when the train boy passed through the cars with a pile of magazines under his arm.

He handed them to the right and left for passengers to examine, and after an interval passed back again, to receive pay for any that might be selected, and gather up the rest.

"Here's the latest magazines!" he cried, in a pleasant voice. "Harpers, Scribner's, Lippincott's!"

As he is to be our hero, I will pause a moment to sketch Paul Palmer.

He was a boy of sixteen, of medium height for a boy of that age, with dark brown hair, bright, sparkling eyes, not without a suggestion of mirthfulness, and round cheeks, with a healthful color. It would be hard to find a more attractive-looking boy than Paul.

The first passenger he came to on his return round was an old lady, bordering upon seventy, who was quite unaccustomed to traveling, and knew very little of railways and their customs.

When the magazine had been put in her hands she received it with glad complacency, supposing it to be a gift from the railroad corporation.

She hunted up her spectacles, and was looking at the pictures with considerable interest when Paul touched her on the arm.

"Want my ticket a'ready?" she asked, thinking it to be the conductor.

"No, ma'am," answered Paul, smiling. "Please give me the magazine."

"Why, you give it to me yourself," said the old lady in surprise.

"No, I only handed it to you to examine," said Paul.

"I thought, to be sure, you give it to me, and I was goin' to carry it to my darter Sarah Ann as a present. I'm goin' to spend a week with Sarah Ann."

Paul smiled.

He had met before unsophisticated travelers ready to impart their family affairs to any one sufficiently interested to listen to them.

"You can do it now," he said, "if you will buy the magazine. Every body likes to read Harper's."

"How much do you ax for it?" asked the old lady, cautiously.

"Thirty-five cents."

"Lands sake!" exclaimed the old lady, in dismay. "Thirty-five cents for a picture-book!"

"There's some very nice reading in it, ma'am," said Paul, patiently.

"Maybe there is, but there ain't any covers."

"If there were I should ask a good deal more."

"I'll pay you ten cents," said the old lady, with the air of one who was making a very liberal offer.

"Couldn't take it, ma'am. I should fail if I did business that way," said Paul.

"Well, I guess you'd better take it, then. I can't afford to pay thirty-five cents for a picture-book."

Paul took the magazine, and passed on.

The next passenger was a young lady. She, too, had Harper's magazine in her hand.

"Won't you take fifteen cents for it?" she asked, with a smile, for she had heard the colloquy between Paul and the old lady.

"I am afraid not," said Paul, smiling back, for he understood her.

"Then I must pay your price."

She drew out a purse, through the meshes of which gleamed not only silver but gold, and put half a dollar into Paul's hand.

He was about to return her fifteen cents in change, when she said, pleasantly:

"Never mind. Keep the change for yourself."

"Thank you," answered Paul, politely. "I should be glad of many customers like yourself."

"Have you parents living?" asked the young lady.

"My mother is living, but my father died two years since."

"And I suppose you help your mother with your earnings?"

"Yes, miss, I give them all to her."

"I was sure you were a good boy," said the young lady, with a charming smile. "Tell me, now, do you earn good wages by selling papers and magazines on the train?"

"Yes, miss, more than I could get in a store or office. Last week I made eight dollars. Some lucky weeks I have made as much as eleven."

"Have you no brother or sister?"

"Yes, I have a little sister, ten years old."

"And a brother?"

"I have a half-brother—ten years older than myself," answered Paul, with evident hesitation.

"And does he help your mother also?" inquired the young lady.

Paul shook his head.

"We don't see much of him," he answered. "He isn't very steady, and is more likely to ask help of us than to give it."

"And he is a strong, young man!" exclaimed the young lady, indignantly. "Why, he can't have any sense of pride or honor."

"Not much. We can do better without him than with him."

"It is lucky for your mother and sister that you are different from him."

"That is true enough, miss. I should be ashamed to act like him."

"What is your little sister's name?"

"Grace."

"Why, that is my name. She is a namesake of mine."

"Then I hope she will be like her namesake," said Paul, gallantly.

"I see you are old enough to pay compliments," said the young lady, smiling. "Do you know what I feel like doing?"

"No."

"I am going to send a gift to my namesake. Here;" and, opening her purse once more, she drew from it a two dollar and a half gold piece, and put it into Paul's hand.

"Do you really mean this for Grace?" asked the boy, almost incredulous.

"Certainly."

"Though you never saw her?"

"I have seen her brother," said the young lady, "and I have a very good opinion of him."

"Thank you very much. Grace will be delighted."

"Do you live in Chicago?"

"Yes, miss."

"Some time bring your little sister to call on me. I live with my aunt, Mrs. Sheldon, in Ashland avenue."

She handed Paul her card. Glancing at it, he ascertained that the name of his liberal friend was Grace Dearborn.

"Grace shall certainly come, if only to thank you for her present," said Paul.

After the boy passed on, Mrs. Sheldon, who sat in the seat just behind, said:

"Upon my word, Grace, you are extremely liberal to a perfect stranger."

"No doubt, aunt; but I took a fancy to the boy."

"How do you know he told you the truth?"

"I would stake my life upon his truth," said Grace, warmly.

"Did you ever see him before?"

"Never."

Mrs. Sheldon shrugged her shoulders.

"You must have great confidence in your knowledge of human nature, then," she said.

"I have, aunt," said the young lady, smiling.

"Well, my dear, you are rich, and are quite able to indulge your quixotic liberality."

"Thanks to Providence, aunt."

"And to your father."

The two would have taken seats beside each other had there been an opportunity, but when they entered the car the best they could do was to take outside seats, one directly behind the other.

Miss Dearborn's seat companion was a young man of about thirty, with a complexion preternaturally pale, the pallor being heightened by his intensely black hair and mustache.

He was well dressed, and on the middle finger of his right hand he wore a cameo ring, which was apparently of considerable value.

When Grace Dearborn was holding her colloquy with Paul, the young man glanced from behind the paper he was reading, and took notice of the well-filled purse which she displayed.

There was a covetous glitter in his eyes, which could hardly have been expected from one whose appearance seemed to indicate that he was in easy circumstances.

He noticed also that Grace replaced the purse in a pocket on the side nearest to him.

"I must have that purse," said Luke Denton to himself.

I may as well say that Denton, originally of good family, had so given himself up to evil courses that he had been disowned by his relatives, and was reduced to making a living by preying upon the community.

In fact, he was an unscrupulous adventurer, and not above being a thief.

CHAPTER II.A LEAP FROM THE TRAIN.

Luke Denton still held the paper before him, and appeared to be reading it; but it had ceased to have an interest for him. He cast furtive glances from behind it at the young lady by his side, and watched for an opportunity to transfer to his own pocket the coveted purse.

This was likely to be more easily effected because Grace Dearborn, though she had taken but slight notice of him, had made up her mind from a casual glance that he was what is technically called a gentleman. That her purse was in danger from a man so well dressed never occurred to her.

It so happened that Grace was an interested observer of nature, and so as the train sped over the road she looked, now out of the windows at one side, now out of them at the other.

To a novice, theft under such circumstances would have been difficult, but it was not the first time Luke Denton had practiced the art of a pickpocket.