Alger Horatio Jr.
Herbert Carter's Legacy; Or, the Inventor's Son
CHAPTER XIII
MR. BANKS, THE SUPERINTENDENT
After his interview with Squire Leech, Herbert walked home slowly and thoughtfully. He comprehended now all the danger of the situation. The squire wanted their house, and was mean enough to desire to get it at less than its value, though two or three hundred dollars would have been of little account to him, while to the poor widow whom he wished to defraud it was a great sum.
“How can a rich man be so mean?” exclaimed Herbert, indignantly.
That question has puzzled more than our hero. Is there something in riches that dwarfs the man, and makes him mean and ignoble? In too many instances such appears to be the effect.
“Well, mother,” said Herbert, when he returned to the cottage, “I’ve been to see Squire Leech.”
“What success did you meet with?” asked his mother, anxiously.
“He will probably give me employment.”
“You see, Herbert, you misjudged him, after all,” said the widow, her face brightening.
“Wait and see if I did. There is a condition attached.”
“What is that?”
“That you will sell him the cottage.”
“Did he mention that?”
“Yes, he offered three hundred dollars over and above the mortgage.”
“Why, he offered more than that last year.”
“I reminded him of that.”
“What did he say?”
“He said he would have given three hundred and fifty if we hadn’t been so unreasonable as to refuse then. Now, as you have been sick, he expects he can get the place on his own terms.”
“I didn’t think Squire Leech would be so ungenerous.”
“He hinted, besides, that when the next interest is due, he would foreclose, if the money were not ready.” “It won’t be ready, I am afraid, Herbert,” said his mother, depressed. “What shall we do? I am afraid we shall be forced to sell the place, though it would be hard to leave it.”
“There’s a month before the interest comes due, mother,” said Herbert, with energy. “Something may turn up.”
But his mother was not so hopeful as he.
“What can turn up?” she said.
“I may get employment.”
“Even if you do, a boy can earn little in the country.”
“That is true, mother, but somehow I feel hopeful.”
“That is because you are young, Herbert. It is natural for youth to be hopeful.”
“Well, mother, isn’t it better to be hopeful than despondent?”
“But it won’t alter wants.”
“Suppose the worst to happen—suppose we do leave the house—we shall have three hundred or three hundred and fifty dollars in cash, to keep us from starving.”
“And when that is gone?”
“Before that is gone, I shall be earning good wages somewhere. You see, mother, matters are not as bad as they might be, after all.”
In spite of her doubts, Mrs. Carter was cheered by her son’s hopeful tone.
“Perhaps you are right,” she said. “Since God orders all things, we ought not to be discouraged.”
“Now you are sensible, mother. How much money have you got left?”
“Twenty-five dollars.”
“Why, that’s enough to pay the interest, and a little over.”
“But how are we to live for the next month?”
“I ought to earn money enough for that.”
“If there were any chance of finding work.”
“Well, I will go out again to-morrow.”
Herbert spoke with a confidence which he did not feel. Wrayburn was not a large village, and, in general, boys were to be found in families where a boy’s work was required. In fact, the only one who seemed likely to have work for a boy was Mr. Banks, the squire’s farm superintendent. His son, Tom, might indeed have worked, had he been inclined; but he was naturally indolent, and his father was too indulgent to compel him to work. He was an only child, and bade fair to be spoiled. Though only fifteen, he had already learned to smoke and drink, and the only limit to either was his scanty pocket money.
As Herbert was walking up the street in perplexity, he fell in with Tom, who was smoking a cheap cigar with the air of an old smoker.
“Where are you bound, Herbert?” he asked.
“Nowhere in particular. I wish I knew where to go.”
“Come fishing with me.”
“I haven’t time.”
“You said you were not going anywhere in particular.”
“Because I don’t know where to go.”
“Then, why not go with me?”
“I want to find work somewhere.”
Tom shrugged his shoulders.
“That’s just what I am not anxious to find,” he said. “My father keeps thinking every day that I ought to be at work, but I don’t see it.”
Tom winked here, and looked, or thought he looked, uncommonly sly.
“Then, your father has work for a boy to do,” said Herbert, getting interested.
“Oh, yes, it is spring now, and the busy season is beginning. But that sort of work don’t suit me. I will never be a farmer. When I get a little older, I should like to go to the city, and enter a store. That would be jolly.”
“You might get tired of it.”
“No, I wouldn’t; I’m sick of this stupid old town, though. There’s nothing going on.”
“I say, Tom, as you don’t want to work, do you think your father would give me a chance?”
“I don’t know,” said Tom. “I’ll speak to him if you want me to.”
“I wish you would.”
“There’ll be one advantage about it. If he hires you, he won’t be at me to work all the time. I’ll do it. Come along, and I’ll speak to him now.”
“Thank you, Tom.”
“Oh, you needn’t thank me. It’s for my own sake I’m doing it as much as yours,” said Tom, who was at least frank in his selfishness.
They went to the small house occupied, much against his will, by Amos Banks. He was in the field, with one of his men, when Tom and Herbert came up, and, jumping over the stone wall, approached him.
“Well, Tom,” said his father, “you have come just in time. I want you to ride the horse to plow.”
“I can’t, father; I don’t feel well to-day.”
“What’s the matter?”
“Oh, I’ve got a headache.”
“Riding will do you good.”
“No, it won’t,” said Tom, confidently; “but if you want a boy to help you, here he is.”
Mr. Banks turned to Herbert.
“You are Herbert Carter,” he said.
“Yes, sir. I would like very much to get a chance to work.”
“You’re the widow Carter’s son?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Has your mother decided to sell her cottage?”
“I don’t think she has, Mr. Banks.”
“Of course you know that Squire Leech wants to buy it.”
“Yes, sir. He told me that he wanted to purchase it for your use.”
“Just so,” said the superintendent, stopping work: “I’ve taken a fancy to that house, and so has Mrs. Banks You had better accept the squire’s offer.”
“That would be too much of a sacrifice, Mr. Banks The squire wants to get the place considerably below its value.”
“Very likely you overvalue it.”
“Mother is attached to it. She would rather have it than a nicer house. Father built it, and it was here they lived for nearly fifteen years.”
“No doubt—no doubt,” said Banks, impatiently; “but poor folks can’t afford to be sentimental. If it’s for your mother’s interest to sell, then she’d ought to sell, that’s my opinion.”
“We may have to sell some time, but as long as we can hold on to the place, we mean to.”
“I may as well say,” said the superintendent, “that the squire has authorized me to hire you to work, in case your mother consents to sell.”
“Is that the condition?”
“Yes.”
“Then,” said Herbert, turning away, “I am afraid I must give up the chance.”
“That’s an obstinate boy,” said Banks, looking after him; “but he’ll come around after a while. The squire says he’ll have to, or be turned out for not paying the interest.”
CHAPTER XIV
HERBERT’S NEW UNDERTAKING
To be willing to work, and yet to be unable to find an opportunity, was certainly a hardship. Herbert was a boy of active temperament, and, even had he not needed the wages of labor, he would still have felt it necessary to his happiness to do something.
In the course of his walks about the village, he stopped at the house of a carpenter, who bore the rather peculiar name of Jeremiah Crane. Mr. Crane owned about an acre and a half of land, which might have been cultivated, but at the time Herbert called, early in April, there were no indications of this intention. The carpenter was at work in a small shop just beyond the house, and there Herbert found him.
“Well, Herbert,” said Mr. Crane, in a friendly manner, “what are you up to nowadays?”
“Nothing profitable, Mr. Crane; I am wandering about in search of work.”
“Can’t you find any?”
“Not yet.”
“Have you been to Squire Leech?”
“Yes.”
“I should think he might find something for you to do.”
“There is a little difficulty in the way.”
“What is that?”
Then Herbert told Mr. Crane about the squire’s wish to purchase their cottage, and his vexation because they were not willing to sell.
“Seems to me that’s unreasonable in the squire. He acts as if it was your duty to oblige him.”
“I don’t know but we shall have to come to his terms,” said Herbert, rather dejectedly. “We certainly shall if I don’t find anything to do.”
“I wish I could help you; but, if you were to learn my trade, you wouldn’t be worth any wages for nigh a year, and you couldn’t afford to work so long without pay.”
“No, I couldn’t.”
“Besides, in a village like this, there isn’t more than enough work for one man. Why, there isn’t more than one new house built a year. If the squire wants to provide Mr. Banks with a house, why doesn’t he build him one? He might just as well as not.”
“It would cost him more than to buy our place at the price he offers.”
“So it would. Your place must have cost fifteen hundred dollars, land and all.”
“So I did, but the squire laughed at the idea. All he offers is eleven hundred.”
“Don’t you sell at that price. It would be too much of a sacrifice.”
“We won’t unless we are obliged to.”
“I hope you won’t be obliged to. A man as rich as Squire Leech ought not to try to get it under price.”
“I suppose he wants to make a good bargain, no matter if it is at our expense. I wish you had a farm, Mr. Crane, so you could give me work on it.”
“I’ve got more farm now than I can take care of.”
“Don’t you have a garden?”
“I’ve got the land, but no time to work on it. My wife often wishes we had our own vegetables, instead of having to buy, but you see, after working in the shop, or outside, all day, I’m too tired to work on land.”
“How much land have you?”
“About an acre that I could cultivate, I suppose.”
“Engage me to take care of it. I’ll do all the work, and your wife can have her own vegetables.”
“Really, I never thought of that,” said the carpenter. “I don’t know but it might be a good idea. How much pay would you want?”
“I’ll tell you,” said Herbert, who had a business turn, and who had already matured the plan in his own mind. “If you will pay for plowing, and provide seed, I will do the planting, and gather it when harvest time comes, for one-third of the crop.”
“You mean, you will take your pay in vegetables?”
“Yes,” said Herbert, promptly. “If there is more than you need, I can sell the surplus. What do you say?”
“It strikes me as a fair offer, Herbert. Just wait a minute, and I’ll go and ask my wife what she thinks of it.”
Mr. Crane went into the house, leaving Herbert in the shop. He reappeared in five minutes. Herbert, to whom the plan seemed every minute more desirable, awaited his report eagerly.
“My wife is all for your plan,” he said. “She says it is the only way she knows of likely to give her the fresh vegetables she wants. Besides, she thinks well of you. So, it’s a settled thing, if you say so.”
“I do say so,” Herbert replied, promptly.
“Now, when will you have it plowed?”
“I shall leave all that to you. I haven’t time to make arrangements. You can engage anybody you like to do the plowing, and I will pay the bill.”
“Then, as to the seed?”
“There, again, I trust all to you. You can buy what you find to be necessary, and the bill may be sent to me. You may ask Mrs. Crane what vegetables she wants.”
“All right,” said Herbert.
“Please understand,” said the carpenter, “that I will do what I have said, but I don’t want to be worried about the details. You are a boy, but I shall trust to your judgment, as you are interested in the result.”
“Thank you,” said Herbert, rather proud of the confidence reposed in him. “I will do what I can to justify your confidence. I’ll go right off and see about the plowing.”
“Very well.”
Whatever Herbert did was done promptly. He knew of a man named Kimball, a farmer on a small scale, who was accustomed to do work for neighbors, not having enough work of his own to occupy his whole time. He went to see him at once.
“Mr. Kimball,” he said, “I want to know if I can engage you to do some plowing for me.”
“For you!” repeated the farmer, opening his eyes. “Why, you haven’t taken a farm, have you?”
“Not yet,” said Herbert, smiling; “but I’ve agreed to cultivate a little land on shares.”
“Sho! you don’t say so! What land is it?”
“It’s the field behind Mr. Crane’s house.”
“So he’s engaged you, has he? Well, I’ve often wondered why he didn’t cultivate it. Might as well as not.”
“It’s my idea. I proposed it to him. Now, when can you come?”
“Wait a minute,” said the farmer, cautiously; “who’s a-going to pay me?”
“Mr. Crane. He told me to engage somebody, and he would pay the bill.”
“That’s all right, then,” said the farmer, in a tone of satisfaction; “Crane’s a man that always pays his bills.”
“I hope I shall have the same reputation,” said Herbert. “I hope you will, but you’re only a boy, you know, and I couldn’t collect of a minor. That’s the law.”
“I shouldn’t think anybody’d be dishonest enough to bring that as an excuse.”
“Plenty would do it, so I have to be careful What time do you want me to do the work for you?”
“As soon as you can.”
“Let me see, I guess I can come to-morrow. There ain’t anything very pressing for me to do then.”
“That’s good,” said Herbert, with satisfaction. “You’ll find me there, and I can ride the horse to plow if you want me to.”
“I should like to have you.”
“Well,” thought Herbert, as he started for home to tell his mother what he had done, “I’ve made a beginning.”
“I suppose you haven’t found any work yet, Herbert,” said his mother, in a tone of resignation, as he entered the little cottage.
“Yes, I have; though I shall have to wait some time for the pay.”
“What is it, Herbert?”
“I’m going to cultivate a garden on shares, mother; so next fall and winter you can have all the vegetables you want.”
“How is that, Herbert? Tell me all about it.”
When Herbert had detailed the contract he had entered into, he was glad to find that his mother approved of it. She declared that it would be very satisfactory to her to have an abundant stock of vegetables, but she said, doubtfully: “Do you think you know enough of farming to attend to all the work?”
“If I don’t I can easily ask some farmer,” said Herbert, confidently. “I am not in the least afraid to undertake the job.”
He went to bed that night feeling that at last he had obtained something to do.
The reader will perhaps recall the statement in our first chapter that there was a little land connected with the cottage, which was used for the growth of vegetables. This, in fact, supplied nearly all that was required by the widow and her son, and the probability was that Herbert would be able to send to market nearly all his share of vegetables obtained under his new contract, and thus obtain payment in money, of which they were so much in need.
CHAPTER XV
THE CRISIS APPROACHES
Herbert went to work in earnest. It took only part of one day to plow the field which he was to cultivate. He decided, after consultation with Mrs. Crane, to appropriate two-thirds of the land to potatoes, and the remainder to different kinds of vegetables. He was guided partly by the consideration of which would be most marketable.
On the third day, while at work, he heard his name called. It must be explained that Mr. Crane’s house and land were on the corner of two streets, so that he was in full sight, while in the field, from the side street. Looking up, he recognized James Leech, who was surveying him with evident curiosity.
“Good morning, James,” said Herbert, going on with his work.
“I see you’ve got a job,” said James.
“Yes.”
“Has Mr. Crane hired you?”
“Not exactly.”
“Then, why are you at work in his field?”
“Because I’ve agreed to work it on shares.”
“How is that?”
“I am to have a third of the crops to pay me for my services.”
“What can you do with it?”
“Part of the vegetables we can use at home, and the balance I shall sell.”
“I shouldn’t think you’d like that arrangement.”
“Why not?”
“Because you have so long to wait for your pay.”
“That is true, but it’s better than not working at all, and I’ve tried all over the village in vain to get employment.”
“Do you think you’ll make much out of it?”
“I don’t think I shall make my fortune, but I shall make something.”
“Don’t it tire you to work?” asked James, with some curiosity.
“Of course, if I work all day; but I don’t mind that.”
“I should.”
“You are not used to work.”
“I should say not,” returned James, with pride. “I never worked in my life.” It was a strange thing to be proud of, but there are some who have nothing better to be proud of.
“I like to work,” said Herbert.
“You do?”
“Yes, only I like to get something for my labor. You expect to work some time, don’t you?”
“Not with my hands,” said James. “I shall never be reduced to that.”
“Do you think it so very bad to work with your hands? Isn’t it respectable?”
“Oh, I suppose it’s respectable,” said James; “but only the lower classes do it.”
“Am I one of the lower classes?” asked Herbert, amused.
“Of course you are.”
“But suppose I should get rich some day,” said Herbert.
“That isn’t very likely. You can’t get rich raising vegetables.”
“No, I don’t expect to. Still, I may in some other way. Didn’t you ever know any poor boys that got rich?”
“I suppose there have been some,” admitted James.
“Haven’t you ever heard of Vanderbilt?”
“Of course I have. Father says he’s worth forty millions.”
“Don’t you consider him a gentleman?”
“Of course I do.”
“Well, he was a poor boy once, and used to ferry passengers across from Staten Island to New York.”
“Did he? I didn’t know that.”
“Suppose my uncle had left me all his fortune—a hundred thousand dollars—would I have been a gentleman, then?”
“Yes, but it isn’t the same as, if you had always been rich.”
“I don’t agree with your ideas, James. It seems to me something besides money is needed to make a gentleman; still, I hope to get on in the world, and I shouldn’t object to being rich, though I don’t see any prospect of it just at present.”
“No,” said James. “You will probably always be poor.”
“That’s very encouraging,” said Herbert, laughing. “How about yourself?”
“Oh, I shall be a rich man like father.”
“That’s very encouraging for you. I hope when you are a man you’ll give me work if I need it.”
“I will bear it in mind,” said James, with an important air. “Now I must be going.” That day, at dinner, James said to his father: “That Carter boy has got a job.”
“Has he?” asked the squire, not very well pleased.
“Yes, he’s working at Mr. Crane’s.”
“What is he doing?”
“Working in the garden.”
“What wages does Crane pay him?”
“None at all. He says he has agreed to work for the third of the crops.”
“Did he say that?” asked the squire, with satisfaction.
“Yes, he told me so this morning.”
“You are sure he gets no money?”
“Yes; he is paid wholly in vegetables. He said he couldn’t find employment anywhere else in the village, so he had to work that way.”
“That boy stands very much in his own light,” said the squire.
“How is that, father?”
“I told him Mr. Banks would give him work if he would agree to sell me his cottage.”
“He doesn’t own it, does he?”
“His mother, of course, I mean. It’s the boy that keeps her from selling it.”
“Why does he do that?”
“Oh, they’ve got a silly notion that no other place would seem like home to them, and, besides, they think I don’t offer them enough.”
“How much do you offer them?”
“Eleven hundred dollars; that is, I have a mortgage on the place for seven hundred and fifty. I offer them three hundred and fifty dollars besides.”
“Is that all the money they are worth?”
“Yes; they are very foolish to refuse, for they’ll have to come to it some time. In about a week the interest comes due, and I’m very sure they won’t be able to meet it.”
“Suppose they don’t?”
“Then,” said the squire, with a satisfied smile, “I shall take possession, and they’ll have to sell.”
“Herbert says he hopes to be rich some time.”
“I dare say,” said the squire, laughing heartily. “Everybody does, so far as I know.”
“Do you think there is any chance of it?”
“About one in a thousand.”
“I shouldn’t want the lower classes to get rich,” said James, thoughtfully. “They’d think they were our equals.”
“Yes, no doubt.”
James was not aware that his grandfather had once been a poor mechanic, or rather he ignored it. He chose to consider that he had sprung from a long line of wealthy ancestors. His father heard with pleasure that Herbert was not likely to realize any money at present for his services. Already he felt that the little cottage was as good as his. It was only a week now to the time of paying interest, and he was very sure that Mrs. Carter would be unprepared to meet it.
“In that case,” he decided, “I will certainly foreclose. There will be no sense in granting them any further indulgence. It will be for their interest to sell the cottage, and get rid of the burden which the interest imposes. Really, they ought to consider it a favor that I am willing to take it off their hands.”
We are very apt to think it is for the interest of others to do what we greatly desire, and I don’t suppose the squire was singular in this. I think, however, that there are many who are less selfish and more considerate of others.
Herbert, too, was thinking, and thinking seriously, of the interest that was so soon coming due. In spite of his own and his mother’s economy, when the preceding day arrived, all they could raise toward the payment was thirteen dollars, and the sum required was twenty-two dollars and a half.
“Mother,” said Herbert, at dinner the day before, “I see only one chance for us, and that is, to borrow the money. If anyone would lend us ten dollars we could pay the interest, and then we should be free from anxiety for six months.”
“I am afraid you will find that difficult,” said his mother. “The squire is the only rich man in the village, and of course we can’t apply to him.”
“At any rate, I can but try. Instead of going to work this afternoon, I shall go about and try to borrow the money. If I can’t, then I suppose we must give up the house.”
Certainly the prospect seemed far from cheerful.
