Making His Mark - Alger Horatio Jr.

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looked up as his stepmother appeared, followed by Abel. He understood, of course, that this was the son of whom Mrs. Lane had spoken.

      "Gerald," said his stepmother, "this is my son, Abel."

      "I am glad to see you, Abel," said Gerald, politely, holding out his hand.

      Abel seemed undecided whether to take it or not, but finally held out his own. He surveyed Gerald disapprovingly. He could not help noticing, with a feeling of envy, that Gerald was superior to him in refinement and personal appearance.

      "Have you ever been in Portville before?" asked Gerald.

      "No," was Abel's brief reply.

      "I shall be glad to go about with you whenever you like, and show you the village."

      "Abel is too tired to-day," said Mrs. Lane, in her usual cold tone of voice.

      "No," said Abel, unexpectedly; "I'll go along with you."

      "Be back in half an hour," said Mrs. Lane. "We shall have supper early this evening."

      "All right," said Gerald.

      "I believe you have been at boarding-school," said Gerald, as they left the house.

      "Yes; it's a beastly place."

      "Indeed? I never was in such a school, and I don't understand what it is like. What were your objections to it?"

      "The living was very poor."

      "Did you learn much? Did you have good teachers?"

      "Oh, I don't care much about studying. It's all very well for poor boys. But I sha'n't have to earn my living—mother'll take care of me."

      Gerald winced. He understood very well that the money upon which Abel depended was, or should have been, his own.

      "I suppose you had sports?"

      "Yes; the boys played baseball and other things."

      "Do you like baseball?"

      "Not much. I wanted to be captain of the club, but the boys wouldn't let me."

      "I hope you will like Portville. We have an academy here. Perhaps you will attend."

      "Not just yet. I am tired of studying."

      "Do you like boating?"

      "Yes, have you got a pond?"

      "Yes, and I have a dory. I will take you out on Monday, if you like."

      "You have a dory? Did my mother give it to you?"

      "No; it was given me by my father."

      "I shall ask mother to give me a sail-boat."

      "I would like one myself," said Gerald.

      "I don't think she will give you one, but I will let you go out with me sometimes," said Abel, in a patronizing tone, which Gerald did not like.

      "How did you find your way to the house? Of course you didn't know where it was, as you never were in town before."

      "I got a poor boy to walk up with me and carry my valise. I wonder my mother didn't send you down to meet me."

      "I would have gone with pleasure," said Gerald, politely.

      "Are you going to school, or are you working?"

      "I have been attending school."

      "What did you study?"

      "Latin and French, besides English studies."

      Abel was surprised. He was a very ordinary scholar, and had never studied any language except his own.

      "I shouldn't think such studies would do any good to a boy who has to work for a living."

      "Then I suppose you have not studied them?"

      "No."

      "My father intended me to enter college."

      "But you won't go now?"

      "I suppose not," said Gerald, shortly.

      Here they came upon two boys, who were jumping in competition with each other.

      One was John Holman, the other Munroe Hill.

      "Boys," said Gerald, "this is Abel Tyler, the son of Mrs. Lane."

      "Glad to see you," said Munroe.

      "I believe we have met before," said John, smiling.

      "Yes; you took my valise to the house for me."

      "Will you jump, Gerald?" asked Munroe.

      "If you'll promise not to outdo me," said Gerald.

      "I shall try to do it," said Munroe. "Will you join?"

      This question was addressed to Abel.

      "Yes," answered Abel.

      He had legs unusually long for his size, and thought he could outdo the others. Arrangements were made, and John Holman started off. He jumped seven feet on a standing jump. Abel followed and beat his distance by three inches.

      "How's that?" he asked, complacently.

      "Very fair," said Gerald. "Now I will try."

      His jump was seven feet four inches. Abel frowned and looked displeased, and was even more dissatisfied when Munroe jumped seven feet six inches.

      "You boys are fresh," he said. "I am tired. I have jumped seven feet nine inches when I was in good condition."

      None of the three boys believed him, but Munroe said, politely:

      "We will try again some day when you can do yourself justice. None of us can jump as far as that."

      "Are you going to stay in Portville some time?" he asked.

      "Yes; I guess so. My mother says it will take her some time to settle the estate."

      Gerald looked grave, remembering that it was his father's estate, and that his father's death appeared likely to make a great difference in his position and prospects.

      "After the estate is settled mother and I may go to Europe," continued Abel, complacently.

      None of the boys made any comments, and they soon separated.

      "Who is this Munroe Hill?" asked Abel, when he was left alone with Gerald.

      "His father is a lawyer."

      "Is he well off?"

      "I presume so. He lives in a nice house."

      "And John Holman?"

      "He works in a shoe shop. His father is dead, and he has to help support the family."

      "I thought he was poor. Did you notice that his pants were patched?"

      "Yes," said Gerald, gravely; "the poor fellow hasn't much money to spend on clothing."

      "Is he a friend of yours?"

      "Yes," replied Gerald, warmly; "he is a capital fellow."

      "Humph! I sha'n't care to associate with him. Mother likes to have me particular."

      "Do you think he is any the worse for his poor clothes?"

      "Of course he isn't a gentleman."

      "You and I have a different idea as to what constitutes a gentleman."

      The time was when Abel had not been able to dress much better than John Holman; but, as this was unknown to Gerald, he posed as one who was "born in the purple."

      "I shall try to get better acquainted with Munroe," proceeded Abel. "He seems like a gentleman."

      "Everybody likes him; but he is also a friend of John Holman."

      "It seems to me that society is rather mixed here."

      "We don't judge each other by clothes or a good bank account," said Gerald, manfully.

      "I do. I prefer to associate with those who are in my own social position."

      "Abel appears to be a snob," thought Gerald. "I am sure I sha'n't like him."

      On their

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