Fame and Fortune Weekly.

STORIES OF
BOYS THAT MAKE MONEY.

DICK DARLING'S MONEY
OR THE RISE OF AN OFFICE BOY

AND OTHER STORIES

By A Self-Made Man

Dick's head, falling forward when he lost consciousness, hit the door and the sound attracted the attention of the proprietor and his two clerks. "What's that?" exclaimed Mr. Bacon. He pulled the door open and the office boy fell out.

CONTENTS

Dick Darling's Money; or, The Rise of an Office Boy

Current News

A Lawyer At Nineteen; or, Fighting Against a Fraud

The News in Short Articles.

The Renegade's Fate.

Items of Interest

Laughs

Items of General Interest

FAME AND FORTUNE WEEKLY

Issued Weekly—Subscription price, $3.50 per year; Canada, $4.00; Foreign, $4.50. Harry E. Wolff, Publisher, 166
West 23d Street, New York, N. Y. Entered as Second-Class Matter, October 4, 1911, at
the Post-Office at New York, N. Y., under the Act of March 3, 1879.

Dick Darling's Money

OR, THE RISE OF AN OFFICE BOY

BY A SELF-MADE MAN

CHAPTER I.—The Office Boy's Peril.

"Dick, come into my office," said Mr. Roger Bacon, a well-known wholesale dealer in watches, jewelry and silverware, on John street, New York City.

"Yes, sir," replied Dick Darling, his fifteen-year-old office boy—a bright, good-looking lad, who had not yet graduated out of knickerbockers, though most boys of his age would have dispensed with them for trousers. Somehow or another Dick looked to unusual advantage in knickerbockers, and he made a pretty figure in the store, which naturally made his employer partial to that kind of attire in him. That was one reason why he continued to wear them at his age.

Another reason was because being the youngest of a family of four, the older members being all girls, he was regarded by his mother and sisters as the baby of the family, and they wouldn't hear to his making any change in his attire. He was only a baby in name, however, for there wasn't a pluckier young chap of his years in his neighborhood, or in the city for that matter. The boys in his block, who knew him well, and those employed in the vicinity of Mr. Bacon's store, downtown, often made his knickerbockers the butt of their witticism, but Dick was a self-reliant, independent youth, and he didn't care a rap for the fun and criticism that was directed at his apparel. He surprised the downtown lads by polishing off a couple of them who got too gay on the subject, which made the rest rather shy about tackling him, since it was apparent that he knew how to use his fists if forced to call upon them. When Dick followed his employer into his private office the merchant pointed at the chair beside the desk, so the office boy sat down and awaited developments.

"Dick," said Mr. Bacon, "I'm going to send you on an unusual mission. I want you to take this package," laying his hand on a square one which stood on his desk, "to Springville, New Jersey. The village is about an hour's ride from Jersey City, on the line of the Central Railroad of New Jersey. A train that will stop there leaves Jersey City at