Chester Rand

Chester Rand, by Horatio Alger,
Jr

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Title: Chester Rand or The New Path to Fortune
Author: Horatio Alger, Jr
Release Date: October 20, 2007 [EBook #23108]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ASCII
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RAND ***

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[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