Andy Gordon Or The Fortunes Of A Young Janitor

CHAPTER VII. THE LOST RECEIPT. ANDY GORDON OR THE FORTUNES OF A YOUNG JANITOR BY HORATIO ALGER Jr. AUTHOR OF “STRIVE AND SUCCEED,” “MAKING HIS WAY,” “THE YOUNG OUTLAW,” “JULIUS, THE STREET BOY,” “DO AND DARE,” “FACING THE WORLD,” “SLOW AND SURE,” ETC. ——— NEW YORK H U R S T & C O M P A N Y PUBLISHERS ALGER SERIES FOR BOYS. UNIFORM WITH THIS VOLUME. By HORATIO ALGER, JR. Adrift in New York. Andy Gordon. Andy Grant’s Pluck. Bob Burton. Bound to Rise. Brave and Bold. Cash Boy. Chester Rand. Do and Dare. Driven from Home. Erie Train Boy. Facing the World. Hector’s Inheritance. Helping Himself. Herbert Carter’s Legacy. In a New World. Jack’s Ward. Jed, the Poor House Boy. Julius, the Street Boy. Luke Walton. Making His Way. Only an Irish Boy. Paul, the Peddler. Phil, the Fiddler. Ralph Raymond’s Heir. Risen from the Ranks. Sam’s Chance. Shifting for Himself. Sink or Swim. Slow and Sure. Store Boy. Strive and Succeed. Strong and Steady. Tin Box. Tom, the Bootblack. Tony, the Tramp. Try and Trust. Young Acrobat. Young Outlaw. Young Salesman.Price Post-Paid, 35c. each, or any three books for $1.00. HURST & COMPANY Publishers, New York. ANDY GORDON. CHAPTER: I., II., III., IV., V., VI., VII., VIII., IX., X., XI., XII., XIII., XIV., XV., XVI., XVII., XVIII., XIX., XX., XXI., XXII., XXIII., XXIV., XXV., XXVI., XXVII., XXVIII., XXIX., XXX., XXXI., XXXII., XXXIII., XXXIV., XXXV., XXXVI., XXXVII., XXXVIII., XXXIX., XL., XLI., XLII., XLIII., XLIV., CHAPTER I. THE YOUNG JANITOR.The Hamilton Academy, under the charge of Rev. Dr. Euclid, stands on an eminence about ten rods back from the street, in the town of the same name. It is a two-story building, surmounted by a cupola, or belfry, and, being neatly painted brown and well cared for, is, on the whole, an ornament to the village. It was a quarter of nine, when a boy of sixteen, rather showily dressed, ascended the academy hill and entered the front door, which was already open. He swung a small light cane in his hand—rather an unusual article for a schoolboy to carry—and it was clear, from his general appearance and bearing, that he had a high opinion of himself. “I am early,” he said to himself. “I shall have a chance to look over my Latin before Dr. Euclid comes.” It may be supposed from this speech that Herbert Ross was an earnest student, but this would be altogether a mistake. The fact is, he had been playing with some companions till a late hour the previous evening, and this had prevented his paying the necessary attention to his lessons in Virgil. As Dr. Euclid was strict in his requirements, and very slow to accept excuses, Herbert, to avoid trouble, wished to have, at any rate, a superficial acquaintance with the lesson. As he entered the schoolroom he was met by a cloud of dust. A boy of about his own age was sweeping the floor. He had nearly completed his task, and was just about to sweep the pile of accumulated dust into the entry when Herbert Ross presented himself. The boy who was wielding the broom, the young janitor of the academy, being our hero, we may as well stop here and describe him. His name was Andrew Gordon, commonly changed by his friends to Andy. He was a stout, well-made boy, with a face not exactly handsome, but bold, frank and good-humored; but about the mouth there were lines indicating firmness and resolution. He was evidently a boy who had a respect for himself. It may be said, further, that Andy received his tuition free and a dollar a week for his services in taking care of the schoolhouse. He was the son of a widow, who was in receipt of a pension of twenty dollars a month from the government, as the widow of an officer who had surrendered his life during the Civil War on the field of Gettysburg. This, with what Andy could earn, was nearly all she and he had to live upon. It may easily be supposed, therefore, that the dollar a week which Andy received from Dr. Euclid, or, rather, from the trustees of the academy, was an appreciable help in their frugal household. Herbert Ross was the only son of the village lawyer, a man of private fortune, who lived in a style quite beyond the average mode of living among his neighbors. Herbert was impressed, as many boys are under such circumstances, with an idea of his consequence, and this made itself felt in his intercourse with his school fellows. In particular he looked down upon Andy Gordon, the first in rank in his class, because he was poor and filled the position of school janitor, which he regarded as menial. Andy knew very well how his proud classmate regarded him, but it did not materially diminish his happiness or cause him to lose even a minute’s sleep. “What are you kicking up such a dust for, Andrew Gordon?” asked Herbert, considerably ruffled in temper, for some of the dust had settled upon his clothing. “I am sweeping the schoolroom, Herbert,” said Andy, “as you see.” “You needn’t cover me with your confounded dust,” said Herbert, testily. “I didn’t see you coming in,” said Andy, good-naturedly, “or I would have stopped a minute. The fact is, I am rather late this morning, or my job would be over.” “I’ll give you a lesson to teach you to be more careful next time,” said Herbert, who was getting more and more ill-natured, and, as is usual with young bullies, got more impudent on account of Andy’s good nature. As he spoke, he drew back his foot and kicked at the pile of dust which Andy had carefully swept to the doorway, spreading it over a considerable portion of the floor. Good-humored as he was, Andy’s eye grew stern, and his voice was quick and imperative, as he demanded: “What did you do that for, Herbert Ross?” “I told you already,” said Herbert. “I am a gentleman, and I don’t mean to let a servant cover me with dust.” “I am the janitor of this academy,” said Andy, “and if that is being a servant, then I am one. But there is one thing I tell you, Herbert. I won’t allow any boy, gentleman or not, to interfere with my work.” “How can you help yourself?” asked Herbert, with a sneer. “Take this broom and sweep up the pile of dust you have scattered,” said the young janitor. As he spoke he tendered the broom to Herbert. “What do you mean?” demanded the young aristocrat, his dark face growing darker still with anger. “I mean what I say,” responded Andy, resolutely. “You must repair the mischief you have done.” “Must? You low-lived servant!” Herbert burst forth. “Do you know who you are talking to?” This was rather ungrammatical, but it is a common mistake, and Herbert was too angry to think of grammar. “I am talking to a boy who has done a mean action,” retorted Andy. “Take that broom and sweep up the dust you have scattered.” Herbert by this time was at white heat. He seized the broom which was extended toward him, but instead of using it as he was requested, he brought it down upon Andy’s shoulders. It was not the handle, but the broom end which touched the young janitor, and he was not hurt; but it is needless to say that he considered himself insulted. Under such circumstances, though far from quarrelsome, it was his habit to act promptly, and he did so now. First he wrested the broom from Herbert; then he seized that young gentleman around the waist, and, despite his struggles, deposited him forcibly on the floor, which was thick with dust. “Two can play at your game, Herbert,” he said. “What do you mean? you low hound!” screamed Herbert, as he rose from the floor. “I think you can tell, without any explanation,” said Andy, calmly. Herbert looked as if he would like to annihilate the young janitor, but there was something in the strong grasp which he had just felt which convinced him that Andy was stronger than himself, and he hesitated. “Do you know that my father is one of the trustees of the academy?” he shouted, shaking his fist. “I’ll get you discharged from your place.” “You can do what you like,” answered Andy, “but you’d better get out of the way, for I’m going to sweep. I’ll let you off from sweeping up, as you have had a lesson already.” “You’ll let me off!” exclaimed Herbert, passionately. “You—a servant—give me a lesson! You don’t know your place, you young beggar!” “No more talk like that, Herbert Ross, for I won’t stand it!” said Andy, firmly. “I’ll call you what I please!” retorted Herbert. “If you call me another name, I’ll lay you down in the dirt again!” said Andy. Just then, at the open door, appeared the tall, dignified figure of Dr. Euclid, who was in time to hear the last words spoken. “What’s the matter, boys?” he asked, looking keenly from Andy to Herbert. CHAPTER II. HERBERT CONSIDERS HIMSELF INSULTED.Both boys were surprised to see Dr. Euclid, for it was ten minutes before his usual hour of coming. It happened, however, that he had had occasion to go to the post office to deposit an important letter, and as it was so near the hour for commencing school, he had not thought it worth his while to go home again. “What’s the matter, boys?” repeated the doctor. Herbert Ross, who was still fuming with anger, saw a chance to get the janitor into trouble, and answered, spitefully: “That boy has insulted me!” “How did he insult you?” inquired Dr. Euclid, rather surprised. “He seized me, when I wasn’t looking, and laid me down on the dirty floor!” exploded Herbert, looking at Andy as if he would like to wither him with a glance. Dr. Euclid knew something of the character and disposition of Herbert, and reserved his judgment. “What have you to say to this charge, Andrew?” he asked, mildly. “It is true,” said Andy—“all except my taking him unawares.” “What could induce you to make such an assault upon your fellow-student?” said the doctor. In reply, Andy made a correct statement of the transaction, in mild and temperate language. “Is this correct, Herbert?” asked the doctor. “Did you interfere with Andrew in the discharge of his duties?” “I kicked the pile of dirt,” Herbert admitted. “Why did you do that?” “Because I wanted to teach him a lesson.” “What lesson?” “Not to cover a gentleman with dust when he entered the room,” replied Herbert, in a pompous tone. “By the word ‘gentleman’ you mean to designate yourself, I presume,” said Dr. Euclid. Herbert colored, for though the doctor’s words were plain and unemphasized, they seemed to him to imply sarcasm. “Certainly, sir,” he answered. “Those who claim to be gentlemen must behave as such,” said Dr. Euclid, calmly. “It is clear that your being covered with dust was accidental, and you had no occasion to resent it.” “Had he any right to throw me down?” asked Herbert, biting his lips. “Did you not strike him first?” “Well, yes.” “Then it appears to me that you are quits. I don’t approve of fighting, but I hold to the right of self-defense. I don’t think this affair calls for any interference on my part,” and the doctor passed on to his desk. Herbert Ross was very much mortified. He had confidently expected that Andy would get into trouble, and perhaps receive a punishment, certainly a reprimand, from the preceptor. As it was, he alone had incurred censure. He nodded his head viciously, reflecting: “This isn’t the last of it. The doctor is partial to that young beggar, but the doctor isn’t everybody. He’s responsible to the trustees, and my father is the most important one. He’ll find he’s made a mistake.” Herbert was not at all improved in temper by a sharp reprimand from the doctor, when he came to recite his lesson, on the shabby character of his recitation. When recess came, he stalked up to Andy, and said, menacingly: “You look out, Andy Gordon! You’ll get into trouble before you know it!” “Thank you for telling me!” said Andy, calmly. “What sort of trouble will I get into?”