# Bob Chester's Grit/Chapter 1

Bob Chester's Grit

#### CHAPTER I
##### UNDER A CLOUD

"Hey, boy! What's your name?"
"Bob Chester."
"Where are you going with that basket of groceries?"
"To deliver an order to one of my guardian's customers."
"Are you honest?"
"I hope so, sir," replied Bob, his face expressing surprise that his probity should be questioned.
The man who had hailed Bob Chester appeared to be about twenty-five years old, and his clothes were well-fitting, giving him the air of a man of means. With him were two other men; one of whom, several years older, was also well dressed. The third member of the group was entirely different from the others. His clothes were ​grotesque, and bore every trace of having been purchased in some country store. His derby hat was green-black, and apparently a size too small, judging from the manner in which it rested on his head. Had not his appearance bespoken that he was a stranger come from the country to see the sights of New York, his face, sunburned and honest, would have proclaimed him as one unaccustomed and unfamiliar with the wiles of a great city.
Prior to his having been addressed, the boy who had given his name as Bob Chester had noticed the difference between the three men as they stood in earnest conversation on the sidewalk, and instinctively he had been attracted by the frankness of the countryman's face. He had been wondering why the two New Yorkers were so interested in the other man, but the unexpectedness of his being accosted had driven all thought from his mind, and he had given his answers as though compelled by the searching glance the younger of the two men had directed at him.
All three watched him intently, and as he made his answer that he hoped he was honest, the elder of the New Yorkers exclaimed:
"I think he will do, Harry."
"Well, if you say so, all right," returned the other, and then turning to Bob, he asked:
"Would your guardian object seriously if you ​did not deliver your order for about half an hour?"
"I don't know. Saturday is always a busy day at the store, and Mr. Dardus always scolds me if I don't get right back. It doesn't make any difference to him how far I have to go, he always thinks I should be back within fifteen minutes after I have started. So I'd rather not delay—because I don't like to be scolded," added the boy, as though by way of apologizing for his refusal.
"Well, if we gave you a dollar, don't you think you could stand the old man's scolding, if you were half an hour late?" asked the elder of the New Yorkers, at the same time putting his hand in his pocket and drawing forth a large roll of bills, which he opened ostentatiously. The figures were so large that Bob's eyes seemed as though they would pop out of his head, so eagerly did they scan them. The man extracted a dollar bill.
The sight of so much money in the possession of one man fairly hypnotized the boy, and he replied:
"Do you mean you will give me a whole dollar if I will wait here half an hour?"
"That's what!" exclaimed the man with the roll of bills. "But there is a little more to it. Our friend, Mr. Anthony Simpkins, and we, have an important business transaction in hand, involving fifteen hundred dollars. My friend and I ​don't happen to have more than five hundred dollars with us, while Mr. Simpkins has seven hundred and fifty, and so we want you to hold this money while my friend and I go to our bank and get the two hundred and fifty dollars more, which is our share in the deal."
"What, me hold twelve hundred and fifty dollars!" exclaimed Bob, as though unable to believe his ears. "Why, you don't know anything about me. I might run off with it."
"You look honest," replied the man who had hailed him, "and that's why we stopped you. Besides, you wouldn't be able to run away if you wanted to, because Mr. Simpkins is going to wait here with you until we return."
"And you will give me a dollar just for keeping the money until you come back?" demanded Bob.
"Exactly."
"All right. That's half as much as I get for working a week."
"That's the boy. I am glad to see that you have the sense of thrift so strongly developed. Now we will just put Mr. Simpkins' seven hundred and fifty dollars and our five hundred dollars in this envelope, which you will keep until we return."
As he spoke, the elder of the New Yorkers counted out five hundred dollars, put it in the envelope, and then asked the countryman for his ​share. After verifying the amount, he placed it with the other money, then handed an envelope to Bob, exclaiming:
"Now you two stay right here, and we will be back within fifteen minutes."
"All right, sir," said Bob, as he grasped the envelope. And as his fingers closed about it, he unconsciously threw back his head, and squared his shoulders, proud of the thought that he had been selected as the custodian of such a large sum of money.
Again repeating their promise to return within a quarter of an hour, the two New Yorkers hastened away, and were soon lost among the people who thronged the thoroughfare.
Oblivious as the people who live in New York are to the presence of their fellowmen, the sight of the man so obviously from the country and the bright-eyed, alert boy, closely clasping the envelope in one hand, while at his feet rested the basket packed with groceries, attracted many a passing glance.
Between Simpkins and Bob, however, no words were exchanged; though each, while apparently gazing at the passersby, kept a sharp lookout upon the other.
Minute after minute went by, without the return of the two men, who had said they were going to the bank for money, and as the time wore ​on without their re-appearance, Simpkins exclaimed:
"I wonder what's keeping them? I don't want to stand here all day."
"And I can't," said Bob. "I will be more than half an hour late in getting back to the store, and I know Mr. Dardus will be very angry,. I most wish I hadn't said I'd wait. It just shows that Mr. Dardus is right when he says there is no pleasure in having money that isn't earned honestly, and getting a dollar for just holding this money isn't really honest work."
"Well, if you think you ought to be delivering your groceries, why not give the envelope to me? I'll stay here and wait, though I must say I am getting tired."
"Oh, no," said Bob. "I gave my word that I would stay, and I will."
The countryman's suggestion that he be intrusted with the money aroused Bob's suspicion, for he remembered that the others had placed five hundred dollars in the envelope, and he thought it was a scheme on the part of Simpkins to get possession of this money. So that after this interchange of words, both lapsed into silence.
As the quarter hour lengthened into a half, then to three-quarters, and finally to an hour, without the re-appearance of the two well-dressed New Yorkers, Bob's dread of his guardian's ​anger outweighed his desire to earn the dollar, and he finally exclaimed:
"I can't wait any longer; honest I can't." And then, chancing to catch sight of a policeman standing on the corner about a hundred feet away, a way out of the difficulty suggested itself, and he said to the countryman:
"I tell you how we can fix it. We will go over to that policeman and explain the matter to him, and I'll ask him to hold the envelope until those men come back."
And without giving Simpkins time to protest, Bob picked up his basket, and led the way to where the guardian of the law was standing, indolently surveying the crowd.
Casting a contemptuous glance at the two ludicrous figures that approached him, the policeman first listened to the excited explanation of the boy indifferently, then with incredulity, and finally with amusement.
"I have heard of such easy marks, but I never expected to see them in flesh and blood," exclaimed the officer, when Bob stopped speaking. "So you think you are holding some money in that envelope, do you, kid? Well, I'll bet a year's pay that there is nothing in it but old paper."
And while the countryman and the boy gazed at him in speechless dismay, the policeman took the envelope from Bob's hand, opened it, and ​drew forth to their startled gaze a roll of tissue-paper.
"I told you so," grunted the policeman, but further comment was interrupted by the actions of Simpkins.
No sooner had he discovered that he had been swindled than he shouted at the top of his lungs:
"I've been robbed! I've been robbed! They've stolen seven hundred and fifty dollars from me!"
The loud, excited words and the gesticulations of the grotesquely-garbed man quickly drew the attention of the passersby, and in a trice the victims of the swindlers and the policeman were the center of a curious throng of people.
"I want my money! I want my money!" bellowed Simpkins.
"You stand a fine chance of getting it," returned the policeman, "but I will do what I can for you. I'll take you around to the police station, and you can make a complaint to the sergeant and give him a description of the 'con' men."
As word of the swindle was passed among the crowd, various were the comments and bits of advice offered. At first Bob had been too stunned by the discovery that he had been made an innocent party to the swindle even to think, but as he gradually recovered from the unpleasant surprise, his one thought was to get away from Simpkins, to ​deliver his groceries and get back to the store as quickly as possible. In order to carry out this plan, he began to worm his way through the constantly increasing crowd.
One of the men who were offering advice chanced to see him, and cried:
"There goes the boy! He was probably standing in with the swindlers. Why don't you arrest him, Mr. Officer?"
"That's the thing to do," agreed several others, and the policeman, evidently thinking that it would be a wise procedure for him to seize some one in connection with the swindle, leaped after Bob, grasped him roughly by the shoulder, and started for the station-house, followed by Simpkins and those of the crowd who had nothing better to do.
Arrived at the police station, the countryman and the patrolman both talked at once, while Bob stood in silence, overcome by the disgrace of his arrest.
Taking his pencil, the sergeant stopped the countryman's torrent of words, and began to ask him questions as to his meeting with the strangers, eliciting the information that he had met them coming over on the ferry-boat from Jersey City, and that the business deal they had proposed was the betting of fifteen hundred dollars on a race horse that was sure to win.
"It's a pity there isn't a law to keep you ​country people out of the cities," grunted the sergeant, when the details of the story had been told him, and then, turning to the policeman, he said:
"You did right in bringing along the boy, McCarty. He is evidently one of the gang, or he wouldn't have been passing along the street just as he was. We may be able to learn from him who the 'con' men are, and where they hang out. Search him, and then take him back to a cell. I'll send a couple of plain-clothes men in to talk with him."
And grabbing Bob by the arm, the policeman dragged him toward the door which led to a cell.