Alger Horatio Jr.
Making His Way; Or, Frank Courtney's Struggle Upward
CHAPTER XXXVIII
THE AGENT IS NOTIFIED
It was still early in the evening when Frank and Mr. Hamlin reached the house of the agent. Had they come five minutes later, they would have found him absent. Usually, soon after supper, he made his way to the tavern, where he spent his time and money in a very unprofitable way.
The agent was surprised when his two visitors made their appearance.
"What brings you here, Hamlin?" he asked, with scant ceremony.
"I come on a little matter of business," answered Mr. Hamlin, gravely.
Mr. Fairfield concluded that the farmer had come to make an appeal to have his rent continued at the old rates, and answered, impatiently:
"I don't think it will be of much use. My mind is made up. Have you come on business, also?" he asked, turning to Frank, with a sneer.
"Yes, sir," answered our hero, quietly.
"That will be of no use, either," said the agent. "I am not in want of stationery, and, if I were, I should not buy of a peddler."
"I have not come here to sell stationery, Mr. Fairfield," said Frank.
"Then, may I take the liberty of asking what is your business here?"
"I come on the same business as Mr. Hamlin," answered Frank, who preferred that his companion should introduce the subject.
"Look here, I have no time for trifling," said Mr. Fairfield, angrily. "I am going out and can only spare you five minutes."
"Mr. Fairfield, I would advise you not to go out till you have heard what I have to say," said the farmer in a meaning tone.
"I certainly shall. You can call some other time."
"Another time will not do."
"Look here, sir! Do you know to whom you are talking? How dare you use such a tone to Mr. Percival's representative?"
"I suppose you don't always expect to be Mr. Percival's representative?"
"I suppose I shall die sometime, if that's what you mean; but I am not dead yet, as you will find. To pay you for your impertinence, I shall increase your rent more than I intended. I'll drive you out of town—that's what I'll do."
This was accompanied by an angry stamp of the foot, which, however, did not frighten Mr. Hamlin much.
"I shall not pay a dollar more rent, nor shall I leave the farm I occupy," returned Mr. Hamlin, whose patience was exhausted by the rough insolence of the man before him.
"So you defy me, do you?" demanded Fairfield, furiously.
"I shall resist your injustice, sir, or rather I would do so if you were able to carry out your threat. Luckily you have not the power."
"Have not the power? You will see if I have not the power!" roared the angry agent. "I give you notice that at the end of the quarter you must go, at any rate. After your insolence, I won't let you stay on any terms. I wouldn't let you stay if you would pay double the rent. Do you hear me, Hamlin?"
"Yes, I hear you."
Mr. Fairfield looked at the farmer in surprise. The latter seemed perfectly calm and undisturbed by his threat, though it was of the most serious nature. He had expected to see him humbled, and to hear him entreat a reversal of the sentence; but his tenant was thoroughly self-possessed, and appeared to care nothing for the agent's threats.
"You need not expect that I will change my mind," he added. "Out of Jackson you must go. I know there is no other farm which you can hire, and while I am Mr. Percival's agent, you need expect no favors from me."
"I don't expect any while you are Mr. Percival's agent," said Mr. Hamlin.
There was something in the farmer's tone that arrested the agent's attention and excited his curiosity, though it did not awaken his alarm, and he could not help saying:
"Then what do you expect? Do you think I am going to die?"
"I don't expect that you will die or resign, Mr. Fairfield. You may be removed."
"Have you been writing to Mr. Percival?" exclaimed Fairfield, in mingled anger and apprehension.
"No, sir; I have not communicated with him in any way. You would not give me his address."
"Of course I would not," said the agent, feeling relieved. "It would be mere impertinence for you to write to him."
"Fortunately there is no immediate occasion for me to do so, as he has sent a representative here to investigate your official conduct."
"A representative!" exclaimed Fairfield, now thoroughly startled. "Where is he? I have not seen him."
"He is present," said Mr. Hamlin, indicating Frank.
The agent broke into a scornful laugh.
"You? Why, you are a peddler!"
"Only in appearance, Mr. Fairfield. I assumed that business in order not to attract attention or excite suspicion. I am really Mr. Percival's private secretary, as I can prove to your satisfaction."
"Is this true?" he asked, in a changed voice.
"Yes, sir; quite true."
"Have you written to Mr. Percival?"
"Yes, sir; and this afternoon I received a letter from him."
"What did he write?" asked Fairfield, in a husky voice; for he was convinced now that Frank spoke the truth.
"He removes you, inclosing a check of three hundred dollars in place of notice, and appoints Mr. Hamlin in your place."
"Will you read this letter, sir?"
It was enough. Fairfield knew that his management would not stand investigation, and he yielded with a bad grace.
Mr. Hamlin, the next day, to the great joy of the villagers, made known his appointment.
Fairfield left town and drifted to California, where he became an adventurer, living in a miserable and precarious manner. Mr. Hamlin moved into his fine house, and Dick was sent to a school to prepare for college.
The next day Frank started on his return to New York.
CHAPTER XXXIX
AN IMPORTANT DISCOVERY
On his return to New York, Frank had no reason to be dissatisfied with his reception. From Mr. Percival to Freddie, all the family seemed delighted to see him.
"You mustn't go away again, Frank," said little Freddie. "I wanted to see you ever so much."
"And I wanted to see you, Freddie," said our hero, his heart warming to the little boy.
"You won't go away again, will you, Frank?"
"Not if I can help it, Freddie."
"We are all glad to see you back Frank," said his employer. "But you have justified my opinion of you by your success. Some of my friends ridiculed me for sending a boy on such an important mission, but I don't believe any of them would have succeeded any better than you, if as well."
"I am glad you are satisfied with me, sir," said Frank, very much gratified by the commendation of his employer.
"I feel that you have done a great service, and indeed I don't know whom I could have sent in your place. However, I am glad to see you back again. I have missed you about my letters, and have postponed answering some till my young secretary returned."
Frank resumed his regular employment, and three months passed without anything that needs to be recorded.
At the end of that time, Frank received an important letter from Col. Vincent, which gave him much food for thought.
The letter was as follows:
"Dear Frank: For some time past I have been intending to write to you, but I have delayed for no good reason. Now, however, I am led to write by a surprising discovery which has just been made in your old home, which may be of material importance to you.
"When your stepfather went away, he requested me to have an eye to the estate, and order whatever I might think necessary to be done. I am not, as you know, a very cordial friend of Mr. Manning's, but I have always regarded the property as of right belonging to you—that is, since your mother's death—and so accepted the commission.
"A few days since I went over the house and found that it was quite dirty. Where the dirt could come from in an unoccupied house I can't tell, but, at all events, I felt justified in engaging a woman to clean the paint, so, if any of you should return unexpectedly, you would find the house fit to receive you. This was a very simple matter, you will think, and scarcely needs mentioning. But, my dear Frank, events of importance often hinge on trifles, and so it has proved in the present instance.
"On the evening of the second day I received a call from Mrs. Noonan, whom I had employed to scrub the house. She had in her hand a folded paper, which she gave to me.
"'Here is something I found, sir, while I was scrubbing,' she said.
"I opened it indifferently, but conceive of my amazement when I found it to be your mother's will, properly signed, sealed and witnessed.
"Of course it was not the will which Mr. Manning presented for probate. This will gave Mr. Manning ten thousand dollars, and the residue of the property to you, except a small amount bestowed upon Richard Green, the coachman, and Deborah—sums larger, by the way, than those mentioned in the will which was read after your mother's death."
There was more to Colonel Vincent's letter.
Frank showed it to Mr. Percival, and readily obtained permission to take a few days vacation.
"I hope you will get back the estate, Frank," said Mr. Percival, "though I don't know what I shall do without my secretary."
"That need not separate us, Mr. Percival," said our hero. "I have no home but this."
CHAPTER XL
JONAS BARTON
Frank started for his old home on Saturday afternoon. He would arrive in time for supper, at the house of his father's friend. The train was well filled, and he was obliged to share his seat with a shabbily dressed young man with whom, a single glance showed him, he was not likely to sympathize.
The shabby suit did not repel him at all—he was too sensible for that; but there was a furtive look in the man's face, which seemed to indicate that he was not frank and straightforward, but had something to conceal.
Half the journey passed without a word between the two. Then his companion, glancing at Frank, opened a conversation by remarking that it was a fine day.
"Very," answered Frank, laconically.
"A pleasant day to travel."
"Yes."
"Do you go far?"
Frank mentioned his destination. His companion seemed to have his interest awakened.
"Do you know a Mr. Manning, living in your town?" he asked.
"He is my stepfather," said Frank.
"Then you are Frank Courtney?" said his new acquaintance, quickly.
"I am."
"Pardon me, but I think your mother died recently?"
"Yes."
"And the property was left chiefly to Mr. Manning?"
"Yes."
"Of course, you were surprised, and probably very disappointed?"
"Excuse me," said Frank, coldly; "but I am not in the habit of discussing my affairs with strangers."
"Quite right, but I think you will find it for your interest to discuss them with me. Not in a public car, of course; but I have something of importance to communicate. Where can I have a private interview with you?"
It at once occurred to Frank that there was an opportunity, perhaps, to solve the mystery concerning the will. This man might know nothing about it; but, on the other hand, he might know everything. It would be foolish to repulse him.
"If you have anything important to tell me, I shall be glad to hear it," he said. "I am going to the house of my friend, Col. Vincent, to pass a few days. Do you know where he lives?"
"Yes, I know."
"If you will call this evening, after supper, I shall be glad to see you."
"I will do so. I will be there at eight o'clock, sharp."
On arriving at his destination, Frank found the colonel's carriage waiting for him at the station.
Col. Vincent was inside.
"Welcome, Frank!" he said, grasping heartily the hand of our young hero. "I am delighted to see you. You are looking well, and, bless me, how you have grown!"
"Thank you, Col. Vincent. Do you expect me to return the compliment?"
"About having grown? No, Frank, I hope not. I am six feet one, and don't care to grow any taller. Well, what do you think of the news?"
"I have some for you, colonel;" and Frank mentioned what his new acquaintance had told him.
"The missing link!" exclaimed the colonel, excited. "Do you know what I think?"
"What?"
"That this man either forged the will which gives the property to your stepfather, or is cognizant of it!"
"I thought of that."
"I shall be impatient to see him."
At eight o'clock the man called and gave his name as Jonas Barton. Whether it was the right name might be a question; but this did not matter.
"I understand," said Col. Vincent, "that you have some information to give us."
"I have; and that of a very important nature."
"Is it of a nature to restore to my young friend here his property now in the possession of Mr. Manning?"
"If it were," said Jonas Barton with a cunning glance of his left eye "how much would it be worth?"
"I supposed it was for sale," said the colonel, quietly. "What is your own idea?"
"I will take two thousand dollars."
"Suppose we say one thousand?"
"It is not enough."
"Were you aware that the genuine will had been found?" asked the colonel, quietly.
Jonas Barton started.
"I thought Mr. Manning destroyed it," he said, hastily.
"No; he concealed it."
"Is this true?"
"Yes. You see that a part of your information has been forestalled."
"He was a fool, then, and still more a fool to refuse my last demand for money. I accept your offer of a thousand dollars, and will tell all."
"Go on."
"I wrote the will which Mr. Manning presented for probate. It was copied in part from the genuine will."
"Good! And you betray him because he will not pay what you consider the service worth?"
"Yes, sir."
Jonas Barton here gave a full account of Mr. Manning, whom he had formerly known in New York, seeking him out and proposing to him a job for which he was willing to pay five hundred dollars. Barton was not scrupulous, and readily agreed to do the work. He was skillful with the pen, and did his work so well that all were deceived.
"You will be willing to swear to this in court?"
"Yes, sir, if you will guarantee the sum you proposed."
"I will. I shall wish you to find a boarding place in the village, and remain here for the present, so as to be ready when needed. I will be responsible for your board."
As Jonas Barton was leaving the house, one of the servants came in with important news, in which Frank was strongly interested.
CHAPTER XLI
CONCLUSION
The news was that Mr. Manning and Mark had just arrived at the Cedars. They had come by the last evening train. Why they had come back so unexpectedly no one knew, but the servant had heard that Mark was in poor health. This was true.
Mark, in Europe, had proved uncontrollable. He had given way to his natural love of drink, had kept late hours, and had seriously injured his constitution. In consequence of these excesses, he had contracted a fever, which alarmed him father and induced him to take the first steamer home.
"We won't call upon your stepfather this evening, Frank," said Col. Vincent; "but early Monday morning we will bring matters to a crisis."
Mr. Manning did not hear of Frank's presence in the village. He was fatigued with his rapid travel and kept at home. Besides, Mark was prostrated by his journey and didn't wish to be left alone.
It was, therefore, a surprise to Mr. Manning when on Monday morning, Col. Vincent was ushered into his presence, accompanied by Frank.
"Really, colonel," he said, recovering his composure, "you are very kind to call so soon. I hope you are well, Frank? Are you staying with the colonel? You must come back to your old home."
"Thank you, Mr. Manning, but I am living in New York. I am only passing a day or two with the colonel."
"It is very friendly in you to call, Col. Vincent."
"Mr. Manning," said Col. Vincent, gravely, "I am not willing to receive undeserved credit. Let me say, therefore, that this is a business, not a friendly, call."
"Indeed," said Manning, uneasily.
"The business is connected with my young friend Frank."
"I am ready to listen," said Mr. Manning. "If Frank wants a larger allowance, I am ready to give it."
"I venture to say for him that he will not be satisfied with that. Let me come to the point at once, Mr. Manning. Mrs. Manning's will has been found."
Mr. Manning started perceptibly, and his glance involuntarily wandered to that part of the wall behind which the will was discovered, for they were sitting in the very apartment where Mrs. Noonan had stumbled upon it.
"What do you mean, sir?"
"A will has been found, leaving the bulk of the property to Frank."
"Indeed! I am surprised. Is it a later will than the one which bequeathed the estate to me?" asked Mr. Manning, pointedly.
"It is Mrs. Manning's latest genuine will," said Col. Vincent, emphatically.
Mr. Manning started to his feet. He could not help understanding the colonel's meaning. It would have been idle to pretend it.
"What do you mean, Col. Vincent?" he asked, in a tone which he tried to make one of dignified resentment.
"I mean that Mrs. Manning made but one will, and that this bequeaths the property to Frank."
"How, then, do you account for the later will which was admitted to probate?"
"In this way. It was not what it purported to be."
Mr. Manning's sallow face flushed.
"What do you mean to insinuate?" he asked.
"That the last will was forged!" said Col. Vincent, bluntly.
"This is a very serious charge," said Mr. Manning, unable to repress his agitation. "You must allow me to say that I shall pay no attention to it. When you furnish proof of what you assert, it will be time enough to meet it. And now, gentlemen, if you have nothing further to say, I will bid you good-morning."
"I think you will find it best not to be in a hurry, Mr. Manning," said Col. Vincent. "The charge must be met here and now. I charge you with instigating and being cognizant of the fraud that has been perpetrated!"
"On what grounds, sir? Do you know I can sue you for libel?"
"You are welcome to do so, Mr. Manning. I have a witness who will clear me."
"Who is he?"
"Jonas Barton!"
If a bombshell had exploded in the room, Mr. Manning could not have looked paler or more thoroughly dismayed. Yet he tried to keep up a little longer.
"I don't know any man of that name," he answered, faintly.
"Your looks show that you do. I may as well tell you, Mr. Manning, that resistance is useless. We can overwhelm you with proof if we take the matter before the courts. But we do not care to do so. We have something to propose."
"What is it?" said Mr. Manning, faintly.
"The genuine will must be substituted for the fraudulent one. By it you will receive ten thousand dollars, and Frank will consent that you shall receive it. He will not ask you to account for the sums you have wrongfully spent during the last year, and will promise not to prosecute you, provided you leave this neighborhood and never return to it, or in any way interfere with him. To insure this, we shall have Jonas Barton's written confession, attested before a justice of the peace, ready for use, if needful. Do you accept?"
"I must," said Mr. Manning, despondently. "But I shall be a poor man."
"No man who has health and the use of his facilities is poor with ten thousand dollars," answered the colonel.
"Mark alone will spend more than the interest of this sum."
"Then you must prevent him. He will be better off if he has to earn his living, as Frank has done for the last year."
In less than a week the transfer was made, and Frank recovered his patrimony.
Mr. Manning and Mark went to Chicago, and perhaps further West; but nothing has been heard from them for years.
Frank didn't return to the Cedars. The place was let until he should wish to return to it.
By the advice of Col. Vincent, he resumed his preparation for college, and, graduating in due time, commenced the study of law.
Though rich enough to do without a profession, he felt that he should not be content to lead an aimless life.
He obtained for his school friend, Herbert Grant, the post of private secretary to Mr. Percival, and Herbert became nearly as great a favorite as himself.
Through Mr. Percival's kindness, Herbert was enabled, while still living at his house and attending to his duties as secretary, to enter Columbia College, and complete his course there, graduating with honor.
Herbert selected the medical profession, and, when he has completed his studies, will go abroad for a year with Frank, at the latter's expense, and, returning, open an office in New York.
While he is waiting for the patients and Frank for clients, the two will live together, and their common expenses will be defrayed by Frank.
"If I didn't like you so well, Frank," said Herbert, "I would not accept this great favor at your hands—"
"But since we are dear friends," interrupts Frank, with a smile.
"I know that you enjoy giving even more than I do the receiving."
"Enough, Herbert. We understand each other. I have no brother, Herbert, and if I had, I could not care more for him than I do for you. Without you, I should feel alone in the world."
Frank does not regret the year in which he was thrown upon his own resources. It gave him strength and self-reliance; and however long he may live, he will not cease to remember with pleasure the year in which he was "Making His Way."
