Alger Horatio Jr.
Herbert Carter's Legacy; Or, the Inventor's Son
CHAPTER XXVII
THE RACE
James broached the subject which was uppermost in his mind as soon as he got home.
“I wish you’d buy me a new boat, father,” he said.
“What’s the matter with the boat you have now?”
“I don’t want to be outdone by Herbert Carter.”
“I don’t see how that can be.”
“He’s got a beautiful new boat, twice as handsome as mine ever was.”
“He has!” exclaimed the squire, in amazement. “How can he have, without any money?”
“Mr. Cameron gave it to him.”
“I don’t believe it. Probably the boat belongs to Mr. Cameron and he has only let Herbert use it.”
“No, Mr. Cameron gave it to him. Herbert told me.”
“Perhaps he has not told the truth.”
“He wouldn’t tell a lie—that is, about that,” said James, modifying his first assertion lest it might be a compliment. In reality he had implicit confidence in Herbert’s word.
“You wouldn’t want me to be rowing around in a poor boat, while that beggar has a new one,” said James, artfully appealing to his father’s pride.
“Well, the fact is, my son,” said the squire, rather embarrassed, “it would not be convenient for me to buy you a new boat just now.”
“Why not, father? I thought you had plenty of money.”
“So I have; but I have made some investments under the advice of Mr. Temple. If you can arrange to exchange boats by paying a little to boot, you may do so.”
“I have proposed it, but Herbert is very stiff about it.”
“Humph!” said the squire, clearing his throat; “I think you will have to wait a while.”
“How long?” asked James, dissatisfied.
“I’ll tell you what I’ll do,” said his father, “If things go well, I expect to make a good deal of money within twelve months. Instead of a rowboat, I’ll buy you a beautiful little sailboat next season.”
“Will you?” exclaimed James, delighted.
“Yes; won’t that be much better?”
“You are right, father.”
Certainly a sailboat would be far better and there was very little chance of Herbert’s having one given him. So James went cut rowing contentedly the next afternoon, although Herbert was out also in the new boat.
“Your boat is better than mine,” said James. “However, I am to have an elegant yacht next year.”
“Are you?” said Herbert, interested.
“Father has promised to get me one. He would get me one this season but it would be some time before it could be got ready and I can have it the first thing next spring.”
“I congratulate you,” said Herbert. “I should like a sailboat myself.”
“I dare say you would,” said James, pompously, “but of course you cannot expect to have one.”
“I don’t think there is much chance myself, unless somebody leaves me a fortune,” said Herbert, good-naturedly. “I am satisfied with this boat.”
“Of course it is more than a boy in your circumstances could expect.”
Herbert smiled. He was used to references to his circumstances. James never allowed him to forget that he was a poor boy. He thought it hardly worth noticing.
“Shall we have a race?” he asked.
“Just as you say,” said James.
James thought himself the better rower or he would not have consented to row across the pond.
“Are you ready?” asked Herbert.
“Yes.”
“Give way, then.”
Both bent to their oars and rowed their best. But it was not long before Herbert began to draw away from his antagonist. He had not had as much practice as James, but he was stronger in the arms, and had paid more attention to Cameron’s instructions. He came in more than a dozen lengths ahead of his competitor.
“I’ve won the race, James,” he said, with a smile.
“You ought to,” said James, in a surly tone.
“I haven’t had as much practice as you.”
“What if you haven’t? You’ve got a new boat, while mine is old and clumsy.”
“If you think that makes any difference I’ll row back with you, changing boats.”
“Agreed,” said James. But James brought up the rear at about the same distance.
“Beaten again,” said Herbert, pleased with his success.
“There’s nothing to crow about,” said James, crossly. “Your boat is a good one but I’m not used to it.”
“I am not much used to it myself. I only rowed in it yesterday for the first time.”
“That’s long enough to get the hang of it. There isn’t much fun in rowing. I’d a good deal rather sail.”
“I like both. There’s more exercise in rowing.”
“Don’t you get exercise enough in hoeing potatoes?” asked James, with a sneer. “I shouldn’t think laborers would need any extra exercise.”
“There’s some advantage in varying your exercise. There isn’t much fun in hoeing.”
“No, I should think not.”
“Are you going in?” asked Herbert, noticing that James was proceeding to fasten his boat.
“Yes, I’ve got tired of the water.”
Herbert was not to be alone, however, for just then Mr. Cameron appeared on the bank.
“I think I’ll go out with you,” he said.
“All right,” said Herbert, with alacrity, as he rowed the boat to shore.
“Mr. Cameron,” said our hero, “mother has asked me to invite you to take tea with us this evening.”
“I shall be very glad to come,” said Cameron.
“We live in humble style, you know,” said Herbert, “but I told mother you wouldn’t mind that.”
“Thank you for saying so. I shall be very glad to meet your mother, and expect to enjoy myself better than at Squire Leech’s table. It isn’t the style, but the company. Why is James going away so soon?”
“I have beaten him in two races,” said Herbert.
“I am not surprised to hear of your success. You are really gaining very fast.”
“I am glad of it. I want to be a good rower.”
“It is a good thing to do well anything you undertake, whether it be rowing or anything else.”
“James thinks I don’t need to row for exercise.”
“Why not?”
“He thinks I shall get enough exercise in hoeing potatoes,” answered Herbert, with a smile.
“It wouldn’t do him any harm to get exercise in the same way.”
“The very idea would shock him.”
CHAPTER XXVIII
MRS. CARTER’S GUEST
At five o’clock Mr. Cameron knocked at the door of Mrs. Carter’s cottage. It was opened by Herbert himself.
“Walk in, Mr. Cameron,” he said, cordially. “My mother is in the next room.”
Mrs. Carter was prepossessed in favor of Cameron. In worldly advantages he was her superior; yet with the instinct of a gentleman he seemed unconscious of any such difference and did not exhibit the least trace of condescension, as many ill-bred persons might have.
“I have wanted to see you, Mrs. Carter,” he said. “As the mother of my professor, the desire was only natural.”
“Herbert tells me he has learned a good deal since he has been reading to you. He has often spoken of his good fortune in meeting you.”
“I feel equally fortunate in meeting him. Not every boy of his age would adapt himself as readily and intelligently as he has.”
“I am very glad if you find Herbert of service to you,” said Mrs. Carter. “In all ways the engagement has been of advantage to him.”
“Squire Leech was kind enough to offer me the services of his son, James,” said Cameron, smiling.
“James would hardly have been willing to sacrifice so much of his time,” said Herbert, “though he might be willing to try it for a day or two to supersede me.”
“I think I shall have to worry along with my present professor,” said Cameron, “and allow James to devote his superior talents to some other business.”
The table was already spread in honor of the guest, and both Herbert and Mrs. Carter were gratified to find that the young collegian did ample justice to the meal.
“I feel almost ashamed of my appetite,” said Cameron; “but the change from the stereotyped bill of fare at the hotel is pleasant and gives the food an increased relish.”
“I am glad to hear you say so, Mr. Cameron; I could hardly expect to compete with the hotel in point of variety. Let me give you another cup of tea.”
“Thank you. I don’t often venture on a third cup, but I think I will make an exception to-night.”
“Dr. Johnson sometimes got up to a dozen, I believe,” said Herbert.
“He exceeded that number at times; but we must remember that the cups in his day barely contained a third as much as ours, so he was not so immoderate, after all. His excesses in eating were less pardonable.”
“Was he a very large eater?” asked the widow.
“He actually gorged himself, if we are to believe the accounts that have come down to us,” said Cameron. “I am afraid, Mrs. Carter, you would have found him a very unprofitable boarder.”
“But,” said Herbert; “there is one of Dr. Johnson’s labors I shall not seek to imitate. I shall never attempt to write a dictionary.”
“It must be a monotonous and wearisome labor. Besides, I don’t think we could either of us improve upon Webster or Worcester.”
They arose, and Mrs. Carter, who could not afford to keep a servant, herself cleared away the tea table.
“Herbert,” said the young collegian, “you mentioned one day that your father was an inventor.”
“He made one invention, but whether it will amount to anything, I don’t know. He had high hopes of it, but died before he had any opportunity of testing its value.”
“Will you show it to me?”
“With pleasure.”
Herbert led Cameron upstairs into his own chamber, where, since his father’s death, the work which had cost his father so many toilsome hours had been kept. Cameron examined it carefully. Herbert waited anxiously for his verdict. At length he spoke.
“As far as I am qualified to judge,” he said, “your father’s invention seems to embody an improvement. But you must not rely too much upon my opinion. My knowledge of the details of manufacturing is superficial. I should like to show it to my father.”
“There is nothing that I would like better,” said Herbert, “if you think he would be willing to examine it.”
“He would be glad to do so. It is for his interest to examine anything which will facilitate the details of his business. I am intending to go home next Friday afternoon, and, with your permission, will carry this with me.”
“I shall feel very much obliged to you if you will,” said Herbert. “It may be worth nothing. I know it would have been my father’s wish to have it examined by one who is qualified to judge.”
“It is a pity your father could not have lived to enjoy the benefit of his invention, if it succeeds.”
“He was a great loss to us,” said Herbert. “There were but three of us, and he was at an age when we might hope to have him with us for a good many years yet. If I had been a few years older, I should have been better able to make up his loss to my mother.”
“She is fortunate in having a son who is so willing to do his best for her,” said Cameron, kindly. “We don’t know what the future may have in store for us, Herbert; but you may rely upon my continued friendship.”
Herbert pressed the hand of the young collegian warmly, for he knew that the offer of service was no empty compliment, but made in earnest sincerity.
The evening passed pleasantly and at nine o’clock Cameron took his leave. Herbert accompanied him as far as the hotel. He was walking leisurely back when he heard his name called and, turning, saw that it was James Leech who had accosted him.
“Where have you been, Carter?” inquired James; “been to see Mr. Cameron, I suppose? Doesn’t he get enough of your company in the daytime?”
“You must ask him that. He has been taking tea at our house and I accompanied him home.”
“He took supper at your house!”
“Yes.”
“He seems very fond of keeping low company.”
“What do you mean?” demanded Herbert, his eyes flashing with indignation at this insolence.
“I mean what I say,” answered James, doggedly.
“Then I advise you hereafter to keep your impudence to yourself,” retorted Herbert; “and for fear you may forget it, I give you this as a reminder.”
An instant later James Leech found himself lying on his back on the sidewalk with Herbert bending over him.
He kept upon his feet, pale with rage and mortification.
“I’ll be revenged upon you yet, you brute!” he shrieked, in his rage leaving our hero victor of the field.
“I wouldn’t have touched him if he hadn’t spoken against my mother,” said Herbert.
CHAPTER XXIX
A BITTER PILL
James Leech was furious at the humiliation. What he, a gentleman’s son, to be knocked down and triumphed over by a boy who was compelled to work! Why, it was almost a sacrilege and no punishment could be too severe for such, flagrant outrage. How should he be revenged? First of all, he would get Herbert discharged from his present employment. Surely Mr. Cameron would not continue to avail himself of the services of a common bully. To attain this, he decided to reveal the matter to his father.
“That boy actually knocked you down!” exclaimed the squire. “But why did you permit him?”
“He took me by surprise,” said James.
“And what did you do? Did you knock him over?”
“I would,” said James, “but I didn’t care to pursue him. I thought I would wait and tell you.”
“And what do you want me to do?”
“To get Mr. Cameron to turn him off. I want him to starve,” said James, bitterly.
“You express yourself too strongly, James; but, under the circumstances, I can’t blame you much. The boy is evidently a ruffian.”
“Yes, he is a ruffian and a brute, and I don’t see what Mr. Cameron sees about him to like, I am sure.”
“Probably the boy makes him think he is a model of excellence. Such boys are apt to be deceitful.”
“He’s deceitful enough. You’d think butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth.”
“I shall make such representations to Mr. Cameron as, I flatter myself, will dispose of the case of this young rascal and make him repent his brutal and unprovoked assault. I’ll go over to-morrow forenoon to the hotel and speak to him on the subject,” said the squire, pompously.
“Thank you, father. Put it as strong as you can.”
“I will, you may be assured of that.”
“If I can only get him turned off, I won’t mind his hitting me,” thought James. “I hope to see him in the penitentiary some day. It would do him good.”
It so happened that Cameron had met Herbert in a walk he took before breakfast and had been informed of the occurrence of the evening previous.
“I don’t know whether I ought to have struck James,” said Herbert, in conclusion; “but when he called my mother and myself low, I couldn’t help it.”
“I am glad you did it,” said the young collegian. “The boy is a disagreeable cub and deserves more than one lesson of that sort. Didn’t he offer to hit you back?”
“No.”
“So I supposed. I don’t approve of fighting; but if he had shown a little courage to back his insolence, I should have despised him less. What will he do?”
“He will injure me, if he can,” said Herbert.
“We will see what comes of it. Meanwhile, in this matter, you may count upon my support.”
Herbert thanked his friend, not realizing how likely Cameron was to be called upon to redeem, his promise.
Shortly after breakfast, Cameron was told that Squire Leech wished to see him.
“Good-morning, Mr. Cameron,” said the squire. “This is an early call.”
“Not too early, sir,” said the young collegian.
“The fact is, I have called on unpleasant business.”
“Really, sir, I am sorry to hear it.”
“It is about the Carter boy who is in your employ.”
“By the Carter boy, you mean my young friend, Herbert Carter, I suppose,” said Cameron, significantly.
“Of course if you choose to regard him as a friend.”
“I certainly do.”
“I don’t think you will look upon him in that light when you hear that last evening he brutally assaulted my son James, without provocation, in the village street, taking him by surprise and knocking him over.”
Cameron did not seem as much shocked as the squire anticipated. He took the revelation very coolly.
“You say he did this without provocation?”
“Yes, Mr. Cameron.”
“Did James tell you this?”
“He did; and he is a boy of truth.”
“But perhaps he did not look upon it as a provocation when he called Herbert and his mother low.”
“He didn’t say anything about that.”
“I dare say not.”
“And even if he did use the word, it would not justify Carter in brutally assaulting him.”
“I confess I don’t agree with you there, Squire Leech. I hate brutality as much as anyone and an unprovoked assault I certainly look upon as brutal. But for a boy to resent an insult directed against his mother is quite a different matter, and if Herbert had not acted as he did, I should have been ashamed of him.”
Squire Leech flushed all over his face. This certainly was plain speaking.
“You have probably been misled by Carter’s statement. I don’t believe my boy did anything, or said anything, that Carter had a right to complain of.”
“From what I have observed of your son, I regret to differ with you.”
“You are prejudiced against James.”
“I was not to begin with; but what I have seen of him, certainly, has not prepossessed me in his favor. He seems disposed to be insolent to those whom he fancies beneath him in social position.”
“If you refer to the Carter boy,” said the squire, pompously, “I should say that James is right in regarding him as a social inferior.”
“I won’t argue that point, or consider how far the possession of money, which is certainly the only point in which Herbert is inferior, justifies your son in looking down upon him. I will only say that he has no right to insult his social inferiors.”
The discussion had assumed such a different character from what the squire anticipated, that he found it difficult to come to the request he had in view. But he did it.
“I am certainly astonished, Mr. Cameron, to find you so prejudiced against my son. If you should find you had done him an injustice, and that the Carter boy was really the aggressor last evening, will you be willing to discharge him from your employment?”
“If I find Herbert justifies your denunciations and his assault was unprovoked, I will discharge him.”
“Then you can do it at once. You have my son’s word for it.”
“And I have Herbert’s word for the contrary.”
“Between the two, I believe James.”
“Does James deny that he called Herbert and his mother low?”
“I have not asked him.”
“If you will do so and bring me his assurance that he said nothing of the kind, I will examine Herbert again and try to get at the truth.”
“Very well; I will put the question to him.”
Squire Leech did so on his return home.
“I don’t know but I called him something of the kind,” James admitted; “but it’s true, isn’t it?”
“As to that, the boy certainly acted in a very low manner. But you shouldn’t have called him so.”
“I couldn’t help it, when I heard him boasting of Mr. Cameron’s having taken supper at his house. Won’t Cameron discharge him?”
“No,” said the squire, shortly; “he is infatuated about; that boy.”
“Suppose we cut both of them?”
“It won’t do, James. Mr. Cameron’s father is a wealthy manufacturer—much richer than I am. We must keep on good terms with him, but we needn’t notice the Carter boy. Some day he and his mother will be in my power.”
“I hope so, father. I want to bring him to his knees, the proud beggar!”
It was a bitter pill for James to swallow, seeing his rival high in the favor of the young collegian.
CHAPTER XXX
OUT OF WORK AGAIN
Mr. Cameron went home on Friday afternoon.
“I shall be back Monday night,” he said to Herbert.
But Monday night did not bring him. Herbert didn’t think much of it, however, as it was easy to imagine that some engagement had delayed the young collegian. Tuesday morning, however, he received a letter from Cameron, which contained unexpected and unwelcome intelligence. It ran thus:
“MY DEAR HERBERT: When I left you, I fully expected to return on Monday, but an unexpected proposal has been made to me, which I think it expedient to accept. The physician whom I consulted about my eyes recommends a sea voyage as likely to benefit me, and advises me to start at once. A fellow student is intending to sail on Saturday next for Rio Janeiro, and I have decided to go with him. While I hope to reap advantage from the voyage, I regret that our pleasant intimacy should terminate so suddenly. I ought not to use the word ‘terminate’, however, as I fully intend to keep track of you, if I can, in your future plans. I may be gone some months, perhaps a year, but when I return I shall manage to meet you.
“I have submitted your father’s invention to my father, who will examine it when he has leisure, and communicate with you. There may be some delay, as he is obliged to go to Europe for three months on business.
“I am owing you five dollars, but inclose fifteen, which I beg you to accept, with my thanks for your services, and my best wishes for your happiness and prosperity.”
This was the letter which Herbert read with feelings of regret, almost bordering upon dismay. He missed the daily companionship of Cameron, for whom he had formed an attachment almost brotherly, and, besides, he was forced to regard the departure of his friend in its bearing upon his material interests. The income upon which he chiefly depended was suddenly withdrawn, and, look where he might, he could not see where he was to supply the deficiency. The fifteen dollars which Cameron had so considerately sent him would, indeed, last some time; but when that was spent what was he to do? This was a question which cost him anxious thought.
It was not till the day afterward that James Leech heard of Cameron’s departure. It is needless to say that he took a malicious satisfaction in the thought that his enemy would now be deprived of his main income. He hastened to inform his father.
“What? Cameron gone away? That is unexpected,” said the squire.
“Yes; it is sudden.”
“Where is he gone?”
“They told me at the hotel that he was going to sail to South America. His eyes are weak, you know, and the doctor thinks the voyage will do him good.”
“I wonder he didn’t take the Carter boy with him, he seemed infatuated with him.”
“He don’t care anything about Carter. At any rate, he will forget all about him, now he is away. The beggarly upstart will have to draw in his horns now. He won’t put on so many airs, I’m thinking.”
“How much did Cameron pay him for reading to him?”
“Five dollars a week.”
“A perfectly preposterous price.”
“So I think. But he won’t get it now.”
“They’ll find it hard to get along.”
“Of course they will. They can’t pay you interest on the mortgage now.”
“I don’t see how they can.”
“And you can take possession of the house, can’t you?”
“I certainly shall if the interest isn’t paid promptly.”
“Perhaps Carter would sell his boat now. He was pretty stiff about it before.”
“I wouldn’t make him an offer.”
“Why not?”
“If he succeeded in selling the boat he might be able to pay the interest, and delay my getting possession of the property.”
“That is true,” said James. “I didn’t think of that. Besides, you have promised me a sailboat next spring.”
“If business is good, as I hope it may be, you shall have one. At present I am rather short of money.”
“I thought you always had plenty of money, father,” said James, in surprise.
“I have been buying stocks in the city, James, and that has tied up my money. However, I shall probably make a very handsome profit when I sell out. My friend assures me that I stand a chance of making twenty thousand dollars,” concluded the squire, complacently.
“That’s a big pile of money,” said James. “Are you pretty sure of making it?”
“The chances are greatly in my favor. Of course, it depends on the turn of the market.”
“If you succeed, will you move to New York, father?”
“Very probably.”
“I hope you will. This village is awfully slow. New York is the place to see life.”
“There are some kinds of life it is not profitable to see,” said the squire, shrewdly.
“I don’t want to be cooped up in a little country village all my life,” grumbled James.
“You won’t be. Don’t trouble yourself on that score.”
“It will do well enough for Carter. He isn’t fit for anything but a country bumpkin, but it don’t suit me.”
“Well, James, you must be patient, and things may turn out as you desire.”
At the same time Herbert was holding a consultation with his mother.
“My prospects are not very bright here, mother,” he said, rather despondently. “I am ready enough to work, but there is no work to be had, so far as I can see.”
“You forget your garden, Herbert.”
“Yes; that will help us a little; but I can’t expect to clear more than twenty dollars out of it, and twenty dollars won’t go a great way.”
“It is something, Herbert.”
“It isn’t enough to pay our next interest bill.”
Mrs. Carter looked troubled,
“If I could sell the property for what it cost your father I should be tempted to do it.”
“You mean for fifteen hundred dollars?”
“Yes; that would give us seven hundred and fifty dollars over the mortgage.”
“I should be in favor of selling, too, in that case; but Squire Leech only offers eleven hundred at the outside.”
“He ought to be more considerate.”
“He wants to make a bargain at your expense, mother. That isn’t all. He is provoked to think you haven’t accepted his offer before, and, of course, that won’t incline him to be any more liberal.”
“I am afraid we shall have to part with our home,” said the widow, with a sigh.
“There is one hope, mother. I don’t like to think of it too much, for fear it won’t amount to anything; but father’s invention may prove valuable. You know Mr. Cameron’s father has agreed to examine it.”
“If we could only get two or three hundred dollars for it, it would be a great help.”
“If we get anything at all we shall get more. I am afraid we shall have to wait, though, for Mr. Cameron writes me his father is going to Europe for a few months.”
“Everything seems against us, Herbert,” said his mother, in a despondent tone.
But Herbert was more hopeful.
“If we can only manage to keep along and pay the next interest, I think we’ll be all right, mother,” he said. “I mean to try, anyway. If there’s any work to be had anywhere within five miles, I’ll try to obtain it. How much money have you got left, mother?”
“Ten dollars and a half.”
“And here are fifteen that Mr. Cameron sent me. No chance of the poorhouse for a month, mother. Before that has gone by something may turn up.”
