Chester Rand; or, The New Path to Fortune

[Illustration: CHESTER RAND

               HORATIO ALGER Jr.]




CHESTER RAND

OR

THE NEW PATH TO FORTUNE




BY

HORATIO ALGER, Jr.

AUTHOR OF “ANDY GRANT’S PLUCK,”
“SINK OR SWIM,” “ADRIFT IN NEW YORK.”




NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS




Transcriber’s Note: Minor typographical errors have been corrected
without note. Dialect spellings, contractions and discrepancies have
been retained. The Table of Contents was not contained in the book
and has been created for the convenience of the reader.




CONTENTS


CHAPTER

      I. SILAS TRIPP
     II. OUT OF WORK
    III. A NOTEWORTHY EVENING
     IV. A DYING GIFT
      V. CHESTER’S FIRST SUCCESS
     VI. ROBERT RAMSAY
    VII. SILAS TRIPP MAKES A DISCOVERY
   VIII. A SCENE IN THE GROCERY STORE
     IX. NEW PLANS FOR CHESTER
      X. A RAILROAD ACQUAINTANCE
     XI. CHESTER’S FIRST EXPERIENCES IN NEW YORK
    XII. A REAL ESTATE OFFICE
   XIII. MR. MULLINS, THE BOOKKEEPER
    XIV. THE TABLES TURNED
     XV. A PLOT AGAINST CHESTER
    XVI. PROF. HAZLITT AT HOME
   XVII. CHESTER TAKES A LESSON IN BOXING
  XVIII. DICK RALSTON
    XIX. MR. FAIRCHILD LEAVES THE CITY
     XX. PAUL PERKINS, OF MINNEAPOLIS
    XXI. MR. PERKINS MAKES AN ACQUAINTANCE
   XXII. DICK RALSTON’S FATHER
  XXIII. CHESTER IS DISCHARGED
   XXIV. INTRODUCES MR. SHARPLEIGH, THE DETECTIVE
    XXV. CHESTER MEETS ANOTHER ARTIST
   XXVI. A STRANGER IN NEW YORK
  XXVII. MR. TRIPP IS DISAPPOINTED
 XXVIII. PROF. NUGENT
   XXIX. MR. FAIRCHILD’S TELEGRAM
    XXX. THE ATTEMPTED ROBBERY
   XXXI. A DAY OF SURPRISES
  XXXII. EDWARD GRANGER
 XXXIII. A FRIEND FROM OREGON
  XXXIV. AFTER A YEAR
   XXXV. PREPARING FOR THE JOURNEY
  XXXVI. A GREAT SURPRISE
 XXXVII. DAVID MULLINS AGAIN
XXXVIII. ABNER TRIMBLE’S PLOT
  XXXIX. MAKING A WILL
     XL. AN UNEXPECTED SURPRISE
    XLI. CONCLUSION




CHESTER RAND.




CHAPTER I.

SILAS TRIPP.


Probably the best known citizen of Wyncombe, a small town nestling
among the Pennsylvania mountains, was Silas Tripp. He kept the village
store, occasionally entertained travelers, having three spare rooms,
was town treasurer, and conspicuous in other local offices.

The store was in the center of the village, nearly opposite the
principal church—there were two—and here it was that the townspeople
gathered to hear and discuss the news.

Silas Tripp had one assistant, a stout, pleasant-looking boy of
fifteen, who looked attractive, despite his well-worn suit. Chester
Rand was the son of a widow, who lived in a tiny cottage about fifty
rods west of the Presbyterian church, of which, by the way, Silas Tripp
was senior deacon, for he was a leader in religious as well as secular
affairs.

Chester’s father had died of pneumonia about four years before the
story commences, leaving his widow the cottage and about two hundred
and fifty dollars. This sum little by little had melted, and a month
previous the last dollar had been spent for the winter’s supply of
coal.

Mrs. Rand had earned a small income by plain sewing and binding shoes
for a shoe shop in the village, but to her dismay the announcement had
just been made that the shop would close through the winter on account
of the increased price of leather and overproduction during the year.

“What shall we do, Chester?” she asked, in alarm, when the news came.
“We can’t live on your salary, and I get very little sewing to do.”

“No, mother,” said Chester, his own face reflecting her anxiety; “we
can’t live on three dollars a week.”

“I have been earning two dollars by binding shoes,” said Mrs. Rand. “It
has been hard enough to live on five dollars a week, but I don’t know
how we can manage on three.”

“I’ll tell you what I’ll do, mother. I’ll ask Mr. Tripp to raise my pay
to four dollars a week.”

“But will he do it? He is a very close man, and always pleading
poverty.”

“But I happen to know that he has ten thousand dollars invested in
Pennsylvania Railroad stock. I overheard him saying so to Mr. Gardner.”

“Ten thousand dollars! It seems a fortune!” sighed Mrs. Rand. “Why do
some people have so much and others so little?”

“It beats me, mother. But I don’t think either of us would exchange
places with Silas Tripp with all his money. By the way, mother, Mr.
Tripp is a widower. Why don’t you set your cap for him?”

Mrs. Rand smiled, as her imagination conjured up the weazened and
wrinkled face of the village storekeeper, with his gray hair standing
up straight on his head like a natural pompadour.

“If you want Mr. Tripp for a stepfather,” she said, “I will see what I
can do to ingratiate myself with him.”

“No, a thousand times no!” replied Chester, with a shudder. “I’d rather
live on one meal a day than have you marry him.”

“I agree with you, Chester. We will live for each other, and hope for
something to turn up.”

“I hope the first thing to turn up will be an increase of salary.
To-morrow is New Year’s Day, and it will be a good time to ask.”

Accordingly, that evening, just as the store was about to close,
Chester gathered up courage and said: “Mr.