CHAPTER XXXVI.

THE NEW CASHIER.

Obed Swikes sometimes had money to lend, and Wade had heard him talk with the neighbors about such matters; and he had listened to many conversations on such subjects at the stores and in other places. If a man was able to pay, his note was good. He could easily find out what people thought of Mr. Flinker near his place. If they all said he was good, he could safely trust him with his hundred dollars.

“We might as well draw up the note, and sign it here; for the restaurant will be full,” suggested Mr. Flinker.

The broker wrote it, and Mr. Flinker signed it. Then the man behind the counter indorsed it, and handed the paper to Wade. He read it, and saw that it was in the usual form. He had learned about notes at school, and had seen them in the books; and he was sure the note was all right.

“You can inquire about me in the vicinity of the restaurant; and, if you find it is all right, I will give you the note, and take the money. Now we will go to my place of business,” said Mr. Flinker, when the arrangements were all made.

Wade was all ready; and he walked beside the proprietor of Flinker’s restaurant to that establishment. He was conducted through a great many streets, and turned so many corners, that he did not believe he could ever find the employment office again, if he wished to do so. But he felt that he had no further business with that bureau. He was almost sure of his place, and even expected to be taking the money for the customers’ dinners in the course of another half-hour.

At length they came to the establishment. It was rather a large place. Over the door was a sign with large letters, “Flinker’s Restaurant.” Bills of fare were stuck up all over the front of the store, and a great many people were going in and out. It looked like a place that was doing a very lively business.

“This is my establishment,” said Mr. Flinker, when they came to the door.

“It looks like a big place,” said Wade, delighted to think he was to be the cashier of such an establishment.

“It’s not very big,” said the proprietor modestly. “I intend to enlarge it in the fall, for I own the building.”

He owned the building! Then what was the use of asking anybody whether his note was good or not? But Wade determined to make sure on this point; for he had lost money, and he was not going to run the slightest risk this time.

“We will go in, and I will give you some dinner then you can go about the neighborhood, and ask about my credit among the shop-keepers.”

“I am all ready for my dinner,” added Wade.

Mr. Flinker led the way into the restaurant, and took a seat at a vacant table. He invited Wade to be seated with him, and then tossed the bill of fare to him.

“Order what you like best,” said he, in an indifferent sort of a way.

Wade called for roast chicken and several other articles, though he was not as hungry as he had sometimes been.

“Call for every thing you wish,” added Mr. Flinker, in an off-hand way; and it was evident that he was a liberal man towards his help.

The proprietor called a waiter, and gave him the order for the dinners in a haughty tone; and the man in a white apron was certainly very polite to him. He seemed to be perfectly at home; for, while they were waiting for the dinner, he got up and walked about the room, speaking to various persons, though the cashier that was to be could not hear any thing he said. Then he left the restaurant by a door in the rear, which Wade thought might lead to the kitchen. Certainly Mr. Flinker acted as though he was the master of the place, if the “one from the country” had for an instant suspected that he was not.

Wade looked at the counter, at which quite a number of people were seated on high stools, eating oysters variously cooked. At one end stood an old man who was taking the money for the meals. He seemed to be very smart for an old man; and Wade concluded that he was the father of the proprietor.

The waiter brought the two dinners ordered; and in another minute Mr. Flinker joined him at the table. Neither of them said much till the eatables were disposed of; for Wade was too much interested in his present occupation to care much for any thing else; but he saw what was going on all the time. He thought his new situation would be all that he desired. Then he and his future employer had pudding and coffee; and Wade was forced to admit that it was the best dinner he had eaten for a long time, if not the best he had ever had. The waiter brought two checks when the meal was finished.

Wade didn’t see why the man should bring the proprietor these checks, as of course he did not have to pay for what he had ordered. Perhaps Mr. Flinker saw that he looked with some surprise upon these bits of pasteboard; for he at once explained them.

“You will take notice of this little circumstance, Mr. Brooks,” said he. “I require a check to be given to every one that eats at these tables.”

“What’s that for?” asked Wade.

“If I didn’t do it, all the waiters might dine their friends here. The old gentleman at the counter don’t know that you are with me. Every one that dines here free carries his check to the cashier; and he is instructed to pass it without any money. It is a part of the cashier’s duty to see that every one brings a check to him. If the person is not to pay, he is the only one that knows any thing about it.”

“Your father seems to be a very smart man, in spite of his age,” suggested Wade.

“He thinks he is smart; and so he is, in a certain way; but he makes a great many mistakes. Besides, he knows too much for me. I have to support him; but he orders me around as though I were still a child,” laughed the proprietor of the restaurant. “He is my father; and of course I have to humor him.”

“He has forgotten that you have grown up, I suppose,” added Wade.

“Very likely. Now you can go out and ask about my credit; and, if you are not gone more than half an hour, I shall be here when you come back. You are rather too late for dinner to-day; but you will be on hand for supper, for my father only stays during the middle of the day.”

“I will not be gone more than fifteen minutes,” replied Wade, who felt that the inquiry was nothing but a mere form.

“Very well: I will be here. I have to go into the kitchen, and lay out the meats for supper,” added Mr. Flinker.

Wade left the restaurant with the feeling that his fortune was made. He was to have ten dollars a week; for that was what the proprietor had promised him in the course of the conversation at the employment office. It was the nicest and easiest sort of work he could think of, and was not at all like the drudgery he had been obliged to do on the farm of Obed Swikes. He had been unlucky a great many times; but now he was the luckiest fellow in the world.

At the corner of the next street, he saw a large provision-store. It was not unlikely that Mr. Flinker bought his meat at this place. He went in. Business was dull at this time in the day. He had read the sign over the door; and he asked for Mr. Wangdon.

“That’s my name,” replied the elderly man to whom he had put the question. “What can I do for you?”

“Do you know Mr. Flinker?”

“I do: he has been my neighbor for ten years.”

“Is his credit good?”

“Flinker’s? He pays cash for every thing, and don’t owe a dollar in the world,” replied Mr. Wangdon with enthusiasm.

“Would you take his note for a thousand dollars?” asked Wade, putting the question as he had heard it done at home.

“Yes, for ten or twenty thousand dollars, or any other sum that I could lend him, or sell goods for. He is better than half the banks. Why do you ask such a question?”

“A gentleman asked me to make some inquiries about Mr. Flinker.”

“He is worth more than a hundred thousand dollars, and has no debts. Every business-man about here will tell you the same thing,” replied Mr. Wangdon. “And he is one of the best and kindest men in the world.”

Wade thought so too, though he was glad to have his own opinion of the keeper of the restaurant confirmed.

“I am much obliged to you for telling me all this,” added Wade, as he left the provision-store.

It would have been better for the boy from the country if he had told Mr. Wangdon more fully why he asked these questions; but he was satisfied. It was useless to ask anybody else about Mr. Flinker for the marketman had told him what all the business-people thought of the proprietor of the restaurant. He went back; and he had not been absent more than a quarter of an hour. As he entered the place, he saw Mr. Flinker talking to his father at the counter; but, as soon as he came in, the conversation was terminated, and the son took the new cashier into a retired part of the room.

“I am all ready for business,” said Wade, with a cheerful smile upon his face.

“Then you are satisfied with the inquiries you have made?” added Mr. Flinker.

“Perfectly satisfied,” answered Wade, taking his wallet out.

“If you are not, I am entirely willing to give you more time to look the matter up; for I want you to feel secure.”

“I don’t want any thing more. The man that keeps on the corner says you are worth a hundred thousand dollars, and that you don’t owe a dollar in the world,” added Wade, thinking that this report would please his new employer.

“That’s all true enough; and this note will be the only piece of paper of the kind with my name upon it in New York, or anywhere else,” replied Mr. Flinker, as he tossed the note to Wade.

The “one from the country” read the paper again, and then handed his hundred dollars to the proprietor of the restaurant, who was worth a hundred thousand dollars, and did not owe a dollar.

“By the way, can you find 786 Broadway? I want some one to go up there, and collect a bill,” added Mr. Flinker.

Wade was sure he could find it, and started with the bill.