The Cash Boy

Through some conspiracy, the hero of the story when a baby, was taken from his relatives and given into the care of a kind woman.

Not knowing his name, she gave him her husband’s name, Frank Fowler. She had one little daughter, Grace, and showing no partiality in the treatment of her children, Frank never suspected that she was not his sister. However, at the death of Mrs. Fowler, all this was related to Frank.

The children were left alone in the world. It seemed as though they would have to go to the poorhouse but Frank could not become reconciled to that.

A kind neighbor agreed to care for Grace, so Frank decided to start out in the world to make his way.

He had many disappointments and hardships, but through his kindness to an old man, his own relatives and right name were revealed to him.

CHAPTER I

A REVELATION

A group of boys was assembled in an open field to the west of the public schoolhouse in the town of Crawford. Most of them held hats in their hands, while two, stationed sixty feet distant from each other, were “having catch.”

Tom Pinkerton, son of Deacon Pinkerton, had just returned from Brooklyn, and while there had witnessed a match game between two professional clubs. On his return he proposed that the boys of Crawford should establish a club, to be known as the Excelsior Club of Crawford, to play among themselves, and on suitable occasions to challenge clubs belonging to other villages. This proposal was received with instant approval.

“I move that Tom Pinkerton address the meeting,” said one boy.

“Second the motion,” said another.

As there was no chairman, James Briggs was appointed to that position, and put the motion, which was unanimously carried.

Tom Pinkerton, in his own estimation a personage of considerable importance, came forward in a consequential manner, and commenced as follows:

“Mr. Chairman and boys. You all know what has brought us together. We want to start a club for playing baseball, like the big clubs they have in Brooklyn and New York.”

“How shall we do it?” asked Henry Scott.

“We must first appoint a captain of the club, who will have power to assign the members to their different positions. Of course you will want one that understands about these matters.”

“He means himself,” whispered Henry Scott, to his next neighbor; and here he was right.

“Is that all?” asked Sam Pomeroy.

“No; as there will be some expenses, there must be a treasurer to receive and take care of the funds, and we shall need a secretary to keep the records of the club, and write and answer challenges.”

“Boys,” said the chairman, “you have heard Tom Pinkerton’s remarks. Those who are in favor of organizing a club on this plan will please signify it in the usual way.”

All the boys raised their hands, and it was declared a vote.

“You will bring in your votes for captain,” said the chairman.

Tom Pinkerton drew a little apart with a conscious look, as he supposed, of course, that no one but himself would be thought of as leader.

Slips of paper were passed around, and the boys began to prepare their ballots. They were brought to the chairman in a hat, and he forthwith took them out and began to count them.

“Boys,” he announced, amid a universal stillness, “there is one vote for Sam Pomeroy, one for Eugene Morton, and the rest are for Frank Fowler, who is elected.”

There was a clapping of hands, in which Tom Pinkerton did not join.