Sam's Chance and How He Improved It

  E-text prepared by Gary Sandino from digital material generously madeavailable by Internet Archive (https://www.archive.org/index.php)

  Note: Images of the original pages are available through Internet Archive American Libraries. See https://www.archive.org/details/samschancehowhei00algerich

  SAM'S CHANCE

  And

  How He Improved It

  by

  HORATIO ALGER, JR.

  Author of "Facing the World," "Cash Boy," "Do and Dare,""Sink or Swim," "Chester Rand," Etc.

  New YorkHurst & CompanyPublishers

  Chapter Title Page

  I. Sam's New Clothes. 5 II. Sam's First Day in Business 13 III. Sam Finds A Room 23 IV. First Lessons 32 V. Sam's Finances 42 VI. Sam's Luck 51 VII. Twenty-Five Dollars Reward 60 VIII. An Unexpected Obstacle 69 IX. Restoring the Ring 78 X. Sam's Investment 88 XI. Henry Becomes a Merchant 97 XII. How Sam Succeeded 106 XIII. Henry's Good Fortune 116 XIV. The Savings Bank Book 123 XV. Sam is Found Out 129 XVI. Sam Loses His Place 136 XVII. Tim is Unmasked 146 XVIII. The Fall River Boat 154 XIX. Mutual Confidences 161 XX. Too Late for the Train 165 XXI. Arrived in Boston 172 XXII. First Experiences in Boston 176 XXIII. Sam Finds a Roommate 183 XXIV. An Unpleasant Surprise 191 XXV. In Pursuit of a Place 200 XXVI. Abner Blodgett Again 208 XXVII. Sam is Initiated Into a College Society 216XXVIII. Brown's Plan 226 XXIX. Arthur Brown 234 XXX. How It was Arranged 242 XXXI. Two Years Later 246 XXXII. Conclusion 251

  PREFACE.

  "Sam's Chance" is a sequel to the "Young Outlaw," and is designed toillustrate the gradual steps by which that young man was induced togive up his bad habits, and deserve that prosperity which he finallyattains. The writer confesses to have experienced some embarrassmentin writing this story. The story writer always has at commandexpedients by which the frowns of fortune may be turned into sunshine,and this without violating probability, or, at any rate, possibility;for the careers of many of our most eminent and successful men attestthat truth is often-times stranger than fiction. But to cure a boy ofradical faults is almost as difficult in fiction as in real life.Whether the influences which led to Sam's reformation were adequate tothat result, must be decided by the critical reader. The author may,at any rate, venture to congratulate Sam's friends that he is now moreworthy of their interest and regard than in the years when he wasknown as the "Young Outlaw."

  SAM'S CHANCE.

  CHAPTER I.

  SAM'S NEW CLOTHES.

  "If I'm goin' into a office I'll have to buy some new clo'es," thoughtSam Barker.

  He was a boy of fifteen, who, for three years, had been drifting aboutthe streets of New York, getting his living as he could; now blackingboots, now selling papers, now carrying bundles--"everything by turns,and nothing long." He was not a model boy, as those who have read hisearly history, in "The Young Outlaw," are aware; but, on the otherhand, he was not extremely bad. He liked fun, even if it involvedmischief; and he could not be called strictly truthful nor honest. Buthe would not wantonly injure or tyrannize over a smaller boy, andthere was nothing mean or malicious about him. Still he was hardly thesort of boy a merchant would be likely to select as an office boy, andbut for a lucky chance Sam would have been compelled to remain abootblack or newsboy. One day he found, in an uptown street, a littleboy, who had strayed away from his nurse, and, ascertaining where helived, restored him to his anxious parents. For this good deed he wasrewarded by a gift of five dollars and the offer of a position aserrand boy, at five dollars a week.

  Sam decided that he must have some new clothes before he could enterupon his place. At present his costume consisted of a ragged shirt,and a pair of equally ragged pantaloons. Both were of unknownantiquity, and had done faithful service, not only to Sam, but to aformer owner. It was quite time they were released from duty.

  To buy a complete outfit with five dollars might have puzzled many anable financier. But Sam knew just where to go. Somewhere in theneighborhood of Baxter Street there was a second-hand clothingestablishment, which he had patronized on previous occasions, andwhere he knew that the prices were low. It was to this place that hebent his steps.

  A wrinkled old man--the proprietor--stood outside, scanning, withcunning eyes, the passers-by. If any one paused to examine his stock,he was immediately assailed by voluble recommendations of this or thatarticle, and urgently entreated to "just step inside."

  When Sam approached, the old man's shrewdness was at fault. He did notsuspect that the ragged street boy was likely to become a customer,and merely suffered his glance to rest upon him casually.

  But Sam accosted him with a business-like manner.

  "Look here, old man, have you got any tiptop clo'es to sell to-day?"

  "Yes, my son," answered the old man, with an air of alacrity.

  "Who are you a-takin' to? I ain't your son, and I wouldn't be. Myfather's a member of Congress."

  "Did he send you here to buy clo'es?" asked the old man, with a grin.

  "Yes, he did. He said you'd let me have 'em half price."

  "So I will, my--boy. This is the cheapest place in the city."

  "Well, old man, trot out your best suits. I want 'em in the style, youknow."

  "I know that from your looks," said the old man, a grin illumining hiswrinkled face, as he glanced at the rags Sam wore.

  "Oh, you needn't look at these. My best clo'es is to home in thewardrobe. What have you got for shirts?"

  A red-flannel article was displayed; but Sam didn't like the color.

  "It ain't fashionable," he said.

  "Here's a blue one," said the old man.

  "That's more like, how much is it?"

  "Fifty cents."

  "Fifty cents! Do you want to ruin me? I won't give no fifty cents fora shirt."

  "It's worth more. It cost me forty-five."

  "I'll give thirty-five."

  After some haggling the price was accepted, and the article was laidaside.

  "Now show me some of your nice suits," said Sam. "I've got a place,and I want to look like a gentleman."

  "Have you got any money?" asked the old man, with the momentarysuspicion that he might be throwing his time and trouble away upon apenniless purchaser.

  "Yes," said Sam. "What do you take me for?"

  "How much have you got?"

  "What do you want to know for?"

  "I want to know what clo'es to show you."

  Sam was about to answer five dollars, when a shrewd thought changedhis intention.

  "I've got four dollars," he said.

  Even this was beyond the expectations of the dealer.

  "All right, my son," he said. "I'll give you some nice clo'es for fourdollars."

  "You'd better if you want me to come here again. If you do well by meI'll get all my clo'es here."

  A young man of fashion could not have spoken more condescendingly, orwith an air of greater importance than Sam. He was right in thinkingthat his patronage was of importance to the old man.

  "I'll dress you so fin
e the gals will look at you as you go along thestreet," he said.

  "Go ahead!" said Sam. "Do your best by me, and I'll send my friendshere."

  Without going into details, it may be said that our hero selectedeverything to his satisfaction except a coat. Here he was ratherparticular. Finally, he espied a blue coat with brass buttons, hangingin a corner.

  "Take down that coat," he said, "I guess that'll suit me."

  "That costs too much. I can't give you that and the rest of the thingsfor four dollars."

  "Why can't you?"

  "I'd lose too much."

  Opposition confirmed Sam in his determination to own it.

  "Give it to me; I'll try it on," he said.

  Putting it on, he surveyed himself with satisfaction, in a small,cracked mirror. True, it was about two sizes too large, but Sam feltthat in getting more cloth he was getting a better bargain.

  "That's my style," he said. "Don't I look fashionable?"

  "I'll have to ask you twenty-five cents more for that coat," said theold dealer.

  "No, you won't."

  "Yes, I must. I ought to ask more."

  "Then you may keep the rest of the clo'es. I don't want 'em."

  Sam made a movement as if to leave the store.

  "Give me twenty cents more, my son."

  "Didn't I tell you I wasn't your son? I won't give you no twentycents, but I'll tell you what I'll do--I'll give you these clo'es I'vegot on."

  The old man looked at them dubiously.

  "They ain't worth much," he said.

  "I know they ain't but they're worth twenty cents."

  There was another critical inspection, and the decision was given inSam's favor.

  "You may have the clo'es," said the old man. "Now, where's yourmoney?"

  Sam produced a five-dollar bill.

  "Give me a dollar back," he said.

  The old man looked at him with the expression of one who had beencheated.

  "You said you had only four dollars," he complained.

  "No, I didn't. I said I had four. I didn't say that was all."

  "These clo'es are worth five dollars."

  "No, they ain't, and you won't get it from me. Do you think I'm goingto give you all the money I've got?"

  The old man still looked dissatisfied. "I'm losin' money on theseclo'es," he muttered.

  "Oh, well if you don't want to sell 'em, you needn't," said Sam,independently. "There's another place round the corner."

  "Give me four fifty."

  "No, I won't. I won't give you another cent. I'll give you fourdollars and these clo'es I have on. A bargain's a bargain. If you'regoin' to do it, say the word; and if you ain't, I'm off."

  Sam carried his point, and received back a dollar in change.

  "You needn't send the clo'es round to my hotel--I'll change 'em here,"said our hero.

  He set to work at once, and in five minutes the change was effected.The other clothes fitted him moderately well, but the blue coat--ofthe kind popularly called a swallow-tail--nearly trailed upon theground. But for that Sam cared little. He surveyed himself withsatisfaction, and felt that he was well dressed.

  "I guess I'll do now," he said to himself, complacently, as he walkedout of the shop.