CHAPTER VII.--THE LOST GOLD PIECE.

  Several months have passed away since the daring attempt of the escapedconvict to rob Mrs. Raymond in her humble home, and a change has comethat has brought gloom upon the mother and her two children.

  It may have been the shock she had, when threatened by the intruder,that caused her to break down and take to her bed ill; but certain it isthat she was forced to give up her work, she said for a day or two, andkeep her children home from school.

  Little Pearl was a good cook, however, and Will made the fires and didwhat little marketing there was, so that their mother did not suffer forwant of attention.

  Still she fretted, and a fever followed, and Will went after a doctor onhis own responsibility, and placed his mother in his care.

  The man of medicine made three visits, and his pay took two-thirds ofthe little money the poor woman had, and she determined to get up and goto work to earn more.

  But she could do but little, and, weak and wretched, she gained strengthvery slowly.

  Then Will went out to see what he could get to do, and each night hecame in with a few pence, earned by blacking boots, running errands orselling papers, and this helped to eke out a subsistence for all three.

  Mrs. Raymond did not seem to suffer pain, she had no fever, but herailment appeared to be heart trouble, and night after night she layawake brooding over her sorrows.

  Surprised, as the days passed, that Will seemed to be bringing in moremoney each day, she wondered at it, and questioned him, but he merelysaid that he picked it up in odd jobs.

  "But, Will, you are looking pale and haggard, and you are working toohard," seeing that he did look wan and white.

  "No, mother, I'm all right," he answered, and so the conversation ended.

  But that night Mrs. Raymond could not sleep, and growing strangelynervous, she went to wake her son to talk to her for awhile.

  To her surprise he was not in his little rear room adjoining thekitchen, and the bed had not been slept in.

  She awakened Pearl and asked her about her brother.

  "Oh, mamma, don't scold him, for he is at work," said Pearl anxiously.

  "Your brother at work, and at night?"

  "Yes, mamma, for he has a place as night messenger in a telegraphoffice; he goes on at ten o'clock and gets off at six," explainedPearl.

  "My poor boy! and this accounts for his being so hard to wake up everymorning.

  "Yes, mamma; but he sleeps in the daytime when he can, and you know hegoes to bed early, but I always wake him up at half-past nine o'clock;and, oh, mamma! Will gets six dollars a week, only think of that."

  "And he's killing himself, he don't get half the sleep he should have.

  "He must give it up, Pearl, for I will not allow him to ruin his healthand slave his young life away as he is doing."

  "But, mamma, you are sick, and Will makes so much, and you ought not towork."

  But Mrs. Raymond was firm in her resolve, and when Will came creepinginto his little room in the early morning, he was astonished at findinghis mother lying in his bed, awaiting him.

  In vain he argued; she would not hear of his continuing his night-work,and so Will Raymond left his place and looked for something else to do.

  But nothing came in his way; times were hard, and but a few pennies aday were all the mother and her children had to live on.

  Will seldom ate at home, saying that he got plenty at the lunch-countersduring the day, and he left the scanty food for his mother and sister;but this his mother soon began to disbelieve, as the boy looked reallyill and was growing thin.

  "To-day is Thanksgiving Day, Will, so we must have a good dinner," saidMrs. Raymond, with a forced smile, one morning, after a most meagrebreakfast.

  "Oh, mamma!" said Will, and his heart was too full to say more.

  "My son, I have a gold-piece--a three-dollar piece given me years ago,and which I have held on to until now, never counting it in thinking ofmy finances; but I wish you to take it and go to some good market andinvest a dollar at least in a good dinner;" and the poor mother turnedaway to hide her tears, for the faces of her children told her plainlythat they were hungry--yes, very hungry, as she was herself.

  Will took the piece of gold, when his mother had taken it from itshiding-place, and placed it carefully in his pocket.

  Then he started out upon his errand.

  He was anxious to make his money go as far as possible, and yet securethe best, so he wended his way to a market, which had often attractedhis attention.

  Arriving at the market he feasted his eyes upon bunches of crisp, whitecelery, selected some fine sweet-potatoes, picked out a fine chicken,and then felt in his pocket for his money.

  The marketman saw him turn pale as death, and then say, in a whisper,which he knew was not feigned:

  "_My gold-piece is gone!_"

  "Have you lost your money, my little man?" he asked, in a kindly way.

  "Yes, sir; and it is all we have in the world.

  "Ah! here is a hole in my pocket, and it has rolled out, for it was athree-dollar gold-piece.

  "But maybe I can find it, sir," and the tears were in the boy's eyes.

  "If you do not come back, I will trust you for your Thanksgiving dinner,for I know you will pay me when you can."

  "Oh, thank you, sir! You are so kind!" and Will bounded away to look forhis gold-piece.

  But then he remembered that if he went at a rapid pace it might escapehis eye; he walked slowly, searching the ground at every step of theway.

  Presently he walked bolt up against a gentleman who had been watchinghis approach for half a block.

  "Oh, pardon me, sir!" he said.

  "Certainly, my boy; but you appear to be searching for something thatyou have lost?"

  The face of the man was full of kindness, though stern, and his voicehad a sympathetic tone in it that touched the boy, who told hismisfortune to the stranger, adding:

  "It was all we had, sir, and poor mother's heart will break, I know."

  The man looked like one who had seen the world, and he dressed as onewho had a plethoric pocket-book.

  He was a reader of human nature, and saw that it was no begging forsympathy that the boy told his story for.

  A man of fifty, perhaps, he was well preserved, and yet there was thatin his face that seemed to indicate that his life had not been all madeup of sunshine.

  "My boy, I found your gold-piece, and--"

  "Oh, sir!" cried Will, in delight.

  "Yes, and I took it as an omen of good luck, this Thanksgiving day, andI meant to devote many times its amount to charity, of which I might nothave thought but for my finding this gold-piece.

  "No, I cannot give you my 'luck-piece,' as I must keep it; but I willgive you more than its value, so let us go to the market and get thethings you ordered, and then, if you will ask me home with you, I willgo, for somehow I look upon you as a lucky find, my boy.

  "Come, now, to the market."

  "But, sir, our home is a flat on the top floor of a tenement-house, andit is so humble, and we are so poor, you would not like to go there."

  "I will go, unless you refuse to take me, my boy."

  "No, sir, I could not refuse one who is so kind to me," was the answer,and Will led the way back to the market.

  "Did you find your money, my lad?" asked the man.

  "Yes, sir, or rather this gentleman found it for me."

  "Yes, sir, and I wish you to put up your best turkey, and other thingsthat I will order, and send at once to the address that my young friendhere will give you."

  Will stood aghast, as he heard the orders, for flour, tea, coffee,sugar, hams and other things were on the list until he seemed to feelthat his kind friend was going to provision the flat for a year tocome.

  "Now, Will, we must take a carriage, for I am a trifle lame, from theeffects of an old wound when I was a soldier in the Mexican war," and apassing hack was called, and the two entered it.

  Arri
ving at the tenement-house the gentleman bade the driver wait, andthen he followed Will up the dingy flights of stairs to the top floor.

  Opening the door of the sitting-room, Will ushered his guest in, andMrs. Raymond arose from her easy-chair at sight of a stranger.

  She looked pale and thin, but very beautiful, and her face slightlyflushed as she saw her son with the visitor.

  "This is my mother, Mr. Ivey, and this, my little sister Pearl.

  "Mother, this gentleman has been most kind to me," and Will introducedhis visitor with the ease of one double his years.

  The visitor seemed amazed at the lovely woman he beheld before him, andinstinctively he knew that he was in the presence of a lady.

  He bowed low, and advancing held out his hand, while he said:

  "You must pardon my intrusion, Mrs. Raymond; but I was so fortunate thismorning as to find a three-dollar gold-piece.

  "It caught my eye, as it glittered upon the pavement, and picking it upI saw that it had a hole in it, so attached it to my watch-chain.

  "A moment after I beheld one I recognized as the owner coming in searchof it, and thus I made the acquaintance of your noble boy, and hencetook the occasion to also meet you and his sister."

  Mrs. Raymond was touched by the words of the visitor, and there was thatin his face that seemed to impress her, and she said:

  "You are very welcome, sir, though ours is but a poor home for visitors,and I have been an invalid for some little time; but may I ask, as myson introduced you as Mr. Ivey, if you are not Colonel Richard Ivey, whowas known as Dashing Dick Ivey of the Dragoons in the Mexican war?"

  "Why yes, madam, that was my name, when years ago I was a cavalryofficer; but have we met before that you recognize me?"

  "No, sir, but when a girl I kept a scrap-book, and yours was among thepictures that I took from a paper and put in it, and often have I lookedover the book and your face has but little changed, so I recalled itupon hearing your name."

  "You are very kind, my dear madam, and this is another link offriendship between us that you should remember me as a soldier, and Ihope you will look upon me from this day as an old friend, one who knowsyour sufferings and your needs, for I have heard all from Will, and Iintend to do for you just what I would have done for a sister of minewere she in distress," and into the hearts of the mother and herchildren came a joy that they had not known for many a long day, and allthrough Will Raymond's losing his three-dollar gold-piece onThanksgiving Day.