"Why don't you go to the tavern?" asked Mrs. Barclay, anxious for himto depart.
"Well, I can't afford it. All the money I've got is a bogus dollaryour rogue of a son gave me this afternoon."
"You stole it from him," said the widow indignantly.
"What's the odds if I did. It ain't of no value. Come, haven't youanything to eat in the house? I'm hungry as a wolf."
"And you look like one!" thought Mrs. Barclay, glancing at hisunattractive features; but she did not dare to say it.
There seemed no way of refusing, and she was glad to comply with hisrequest, if by so doing she could soon get rid of him.
"Stay here," she said, "and I'll bring you some bread and butter andcold meat."
"Thank you, I'd rather come in," said the tramp, and he pushed his waythrough the partly open door.
She led the way uneasily into the kitchen just in the rear of thesitting room where she had been seated.
"I wish Ben was here," she said to herself, with sinking heart.
The tramp seated himself at the kitchen table, while Mrs. Barclay,going to the pantry, brought out part of a loaf of bread, and butter,and a few slices of cold beef, which she set before him. Withoutceremony he attacked the viands and ate as if half famished. Whenabout half through, he turned to the widow, and asked:
"Haven't you some whisky in the house?"
"I never keep any," answered Mrs. Barclay.
"Rum or gin, then?" I ain't partic'lar. I want something to warm meup."
"I keep no liquor of any kind. I don't approve of drink, or want Bento touch it."
"Oh, you belong to the cold water army, do you?" said the tramp with asneer. "Give me some coffee, then."
"I have no fire, and cannot prepare any."
"What have you got, then?" demanded than unwelcome guest impatiently.
"I can give you a glass of excellent well water."
"[illegible] Do you want to choke me?" returned the tramp in disgust.
"Suppose I mix you some molasses and water," suggested the widow,anxious to propitiate her dangerous guest.
"Humph! Well, that will do, if you've got nothing better. Be quickabout it, for my throat is parched."
As soon as possible the drink was prepared and set beside his plate.He drained it at a draught, and called for a second glass, which wassupplied him. Presently, for all things must have an end, the tramp'sappetite seemed to be satisfied. He threw himself back in his chair,stretched his legs, and, with his hands in his pockets, fixed his eyeson the widow.
"I feel better," he said.
"I am glad to hear it," said Mrs. Barclay. "Now, if you'll be kindenough, leave the house, for I expect Ben back before long."
"And you don't want him to get hurt," laughed the tramp. "Well, I doowe him a flogging for a trick he played on me."
"Oh, pray, go away!" said Mrs. Barclay, apprehensively. "I have givenyou some supper, and that ought to satisfy you."
"I can't go away till I've talked to you a little on business."
"Business! What business can you have with me?"
"More than you think. You are the widow of John Barclay, ain't you?"
"Yes; did you know my husband?"
"Yes; that is, I saw something of him just before he died."
"Can you tell me anything about his last moments?" asked the widow,forgetting the character of her visitor, and only thinking of herhusband.
"No, that isn't in my line. I ain't a doctor nor yet a minister. Isay, did he leave any money?"
"Not that we have been able to find out. He owned this hone, but leftno other property."
"That you know of," said the tramp, significantly.
"Do you know of any?" asked Mrs. Barclay eagerly. "How did you happento know him?"
"I was the barkeeper in the hotel where he died. It was a smallhouse, not one of your first-class hotels."
"My husband was always careful of his expenses. He did not spendmoney unnecessarily. With his prudence we all thought he must havesome investments, but we could discover none."
"Have you got any money in the house?" asked the tramp, with seemingabruptness.
"Why do you ask?" returned the widow, alarmed. "Surely, you would notrob me?"
"No, I don't want to rob you. I want to sell you something."
"I don't care to buy. It takes all our money for necessary expenses."
"You don't ask what I have to sell."
"No, because I cannot buy it, whatever it may be."
"It is--a secret," said the tramp.
"A secret!" repeated Mrs. Barclay, bewildered.
"Yes, and a secret worth buying. Your husband wasn't so poor as youthink. He left stock and papers representing three thousand dollars,and I am the only man who can put you in the way of getting it."
Mrs. Barclay was about to express her surprise, when a loud knock washead at the outer door.
"Who's that?" demanded the tramp quickly. "Is it the boy?"
"No, he would not knock."
"Then, let me get out of this," he said, leaping to his feet. "Isn'tthere a back door?"
"Yes, there it is."
He hurried to the door, unbolted it, and made his escape into the openbeyond the house, just as the knock was repeated.
Confused by what she had heard, and the strange conduct of hervisitor, the widow took the lamp and went to the door. To hersurprise she found on opening it, two visitors, in one of whom sherecognized Squire Davenport, already referred to as holding a mortgageon her house. The other was a short, dark-complexioned man, wholooked like a mechanic.
"Excuse me the lateness of my call, Mrs. Barclay," said the squiresmoothly. "I come on important business. This is Mr. Kirk, a cousinof my wife."
"Walk in, gentlemen," said Mrs. Barclay.
"This is night of surprises," she thought to herself.
CHAPTER IVUNPLEASANT BUSINESS
It was now nine o'clock, rather a late hour for callers in thecountry, and Mrs. Barclay waited not without curiosity to hear thenature of the business which had brought her two visitors at thattime.
"Take seats, gentlemen," she said, with the courtesy habitual to her.
Squire Davenport, who was disposed to consider that he had a right tothe best of everything, seated himself in the rocking-chair, andsigned his companion to a cane chair beside him.
"Mr. Kirk," he commenced, "is thinking of coming to Pentonville tolive."
"I am glad to hear it," said Mrs. Barclay politely. Perhaps she wouldnot have said this if she had known what was coming next.
"He is a carpenter," continued the squire, "and, as we have none inthe village except old Mr. Wade, who is superannuated, I think he willfind enough to do to keep him busy."
"I should think so," assented the widow.
"If he does not, I can employ him a part of the time on my land."
"What has all this to do with me?" thought Mrs. Barclay.
She soon learned.
"Of course he will need a house," pursued the squire, "and as hisfamily is small, he thinks this house will just suit him."
"But I don't wish to sell," said the widow hurriedly. "I need thishouse for Ben and myself."
"You could doubtless find other accommodations. I dare say you couldhire a couple of rooms from Elnathan Perkins."
"I wouldn't live in that old shell," said Mrs. Barclay ratherindignantly, "and I am sure Ben wouldn't."
"I apprehend Benjamin will have no voice in the matter," said SquireDavenport stiffly. "He is only a boy."
"He is my main support, and my main adviser," said Mrs. Barclay, withspirit, "and I shall not take any step which is disagreeable to him."
Mr. Kirk looked disappointed, but the squire gave him an assuringlook, as the widow could see.
"Perhaps you may change your mind," said the squire significantly. "Iam under the impression that I hold a mortgage on this property."
"Yes, sir," assented Mrs. Barclay apprehensively.
"For the sum of seven hundred dollars, if I am not mistaken."
"Yes, sir."
"I shall have need of this money for other purposes, and will troubleyou to take it up."
"I was to have three months' notice," said the widow, with a troubledlook.
"I will give you three months' notice to-night," said the squire.
"I don't know where to raise the money," faltered Mrs. Barclay.
"Then you had better sell to my friend here. He will assume themortgage and pay you three hundred dollars."
"But that will be only a thousand dollars for the place."
"A very fair price, in my opinion, Mrs. Barclay."
"I have always considered it worth fifteen hundred dollars," said thewidow, very much disturbed.
"A fancy price, my dear madam; quite an absurd price, I assure you.What do you say, Kirk?"
"I quite agree with you, squire," said Kirk, in a strong, nasal tone."But then, women don't know anything of business."
"I know that you and your cousin are trying to take advantage of mypoverty," said Mrs. Barclay bitterly. "If you are a carpenter, whydon't you build a house for yourself, instead of trying to deprive meof mine?"
"That's my business," said Kirk rudely.
"Mr. Kirk cannot spare the time to build at present," said the squire.
"Then why doesn't he hire rooms from Elnathan Perkins, as you justrecommended to me?"
"They wouldn't suit him," said the squire curtly. "He has set hismind on this house."
"Squire Davenport," said Mrs. Barclay, in a softened voice, "I am sureyou cannot understand what you ask of me when you seek to take my homeand turn me adrift. Here I lived with my poor husband; here my boywas born. During my married life I have had no other home. It is ahumble dwelling, but it has associations and charms for me which itcan never have for no one else. Let Mr. Kirk see some other house andleave me undisturbed in mine."
"Humph!" said the squire, shrugging his shoulders; "you look upon thematter from a sentimental point of view. That is unwise. It issimply a matter of business. You speak of the house as yours. Inreality, it is more mine than yours, for I have a major interest init. Think over my proposal coolly, and you will see that you areunreasonable. Mr. Kirk may be induced to give you a little more--saythree hundred and fifty dollars--over and above the mortgage, which,as I said before, he is willing assume."
"How does it happen that you are willing to let the mortgage remain,if he buys, when you want the money for other purposes?" asked thewidow keenly.
"He is a near relative of my wife, and that makes the difference, Iapprehend."
"Well, madam, what do you say?" asked Kirk briskly.
"I say this, that I will keep the house if I can."
"You needn't expect that I will relent," said the squire hastily.
"I do not, for I see there is no consideration in your heart for apoor widow; but I cannot help thinking that Providence will raise upsome kind friend who will buy the mortgage, or in some other way willenable me to save my home."
You are acting very foolishly, Mrs. Barclay, as you will realize intime. I give you a week in which to change your mind. Till then myfriend Kirk's offer stands good. After that I cannot promise. If theproperty sold at auction I shouldn't he surprised if it did not fetchmore than the amount of my lien upon it."
"I will trust in Providence, Squire Davenport."
"Providence won't pay off your mortgage, ma'am," said Kirk, with acoarse laugh.
Mrs. Barclay did not answer. She saw that he was a man of coarsefiber and did not care to notice him.
"Come along, Kirk," said the squire. "I apprehend she will be allright after a while. Mrs. Barclay will see her own interest when shecomes to reflect."
"Good-evening, ma'am," said Kirk.
Mrs. Barclay inclined her head slowly, but did not reply.
When the two had left the house she sank into a chair and gave herselfto painful thoughts. She had known that Squire Davenport had theright to dispossess her, but had not supposed he would do so as longas she paid the interest regularly. In order to do this, she and Benhad made earnest efforts, and denied themselves all but the barestnecessities. Thus far she had succeeded. The interest on sevenhundred dollars at six per cent. had amounted to forty-two dollars,and this was a large sum to pay, but thus far they had always had itready. That Squire Davenport, with his own handsome mansion, wouldfix covetous eyes on her little home, she had not anticipated, but ithad come to pass.
As to raising seven hundred dollars to pay off the mortgage, or induceany capitalist to furnish it, she feared it would be quite impossible.
She anxiously waited for Ben's return from the Town Hall in order toconsult with him.
CHAPTER VPROFESSOR HARRINGTON'S ENTERTAINMENT
Meanwhile Ben Barclay was enjoying himself at Professor Harrington'sentertainment. He was at the Town Hall fifteen minutes before thetime, and secured a seat very near the stage, or, perhaps it will bemore correct to say, the platform. He had scarcely taken his seatwhen, to his gratification, Rose Gardiner entered the hall and satdown beside him.
"Good-evening, Ben," she said pleasantly. "So you came, after all."
Ben's face flushed with pleasure, for Rose Gardiner was, as we havesaid, the prettiest girl in Pentonville, and for this reason, as wellas for her agreeable manners, was an object of attraction to the boys,who, while too young to be in love, were not insensible to the charmsof a pretty face. I may add that Rose was the niece of the Rev. Mr.Gardiner, the minister of the leading church in the village.
"Good-evening, Rose," responded Ben, who was too well acquainted withthe young lady to address her more formally; "I am glad to be in suchcompany."
"I wish I could return the compliment," answered Rose, with a saucysmile.
"Don't be too severe," said Ben, "or you will hurt my feelings."
"That would be a pity, surely; but how do do you happen to get off thisevening? I thought you spent your evenings at the store."
"So I do, generally, but I was excused this evening for a specialreason," and then he told of his adventure with the tramp.
Rose listened with eager attention.
"Weren't you terribly frightened?" she asked.
"No," answered Ben, adding, with a smile: "Even if I had been, Ishouldn't like to confess it."
"I should have been so frightened that I would have screamed,"continued the young lady.
"I didn't think of that," said Ben, amused. "I'll remember it nexttime."
"Oh, now I know you are laughing at me. Tell me truly, weren't youfrightened?"
"I was only afraid I would lose Mr. Crawford's money. The tramp wasstronger than I, and could have taken it from me if he had known I hadit."
"You tricked him nicely. Where did he go? Do you think he is stillin town?"
"He went into the woods. I don't think he is in the village. Hewould be afraid of being arrested."
At that very moment the tramp was in Ben's kitchen, but of that Benhad no idea.
"I don't know what I should do if I met him," said Rose. "You see Icame alone. Aunt couldn't come with me, and uncle, being a minister,doesn't care for such things."
"Then I hope you'll let me see you home," said Ben gallantly.
"I wouldn't like to trouble you," said Rose, with a spice of coquetry."It will take you out of your way."
"I don't mind that," said Ben eagerly.
"Besides there won't be any need. You say the tramp isn't in thevillage."
"On second thoughts, I think it very likely he is," said Ben.
"If you really think so--" commenced Rose, with cunning hesitation.
"I feel quite sure of it. He's a terrible looking fellow."
Rose smiled to herself. She meant all the time to accept Ben'sescort, for he was a bright, attractive boy, and she liked hissociety.
"Then perhaps I had better accept your offer, but I am sorry to giveyou so much trouble."
&
nbsp; "No trouble at all," said Ben promptly.
Just then Prof. Harrington came forward and made his introductoryspeech.
"For my first experiment, ladies and gentlemen," he said, when thiswas over, "I should like a pocket handkerchief."
A countrified-looking young man on the front seat, anxious to share inthe glory of the coming trick, produced a flaming red bandanna fromhis pocket and tendered it with outstretched hand.
"You are very kind," said the professor, "but this will hardly answermy purpose. I should prefer a linen handkerchief. Will some younglady oblige me?"
"Let him have yours, Rose," suggested Ben.
Rose had no objection, and it was passed to the professor.
"The young lady will give me leave to do what I please with thehandkerchief?" asked the professor.
Rose nodded assent.
"Then," said the professor, "I will see if it is proof against fire."
He deliberately unfolded it, crushed it in his hand, and then held itin the flame of a candle.
Rose uttered a low ejaculation.
"That's the last of your handkerchief, Rose," said Ben.
"You made me give it to him. You must buy me another," said the younglady.
"So I will, if you don't get it back safe."
"How can I?"
"I don't know. Perhaps the professor does," answered Ben.
The Store Boy Page 2
