"Twenty dollars, more or less," said Mrs. Barclay. "Is that what youcall a comfortable income? How long do you think it would keep usalive?"
"Added, of course, to your son's wages. Ben is now able to earn goodwages."
"He earns four dollars a week, and that is our main dependence."
"I congratulate you. I didn't suppose Mr. Crawford paid such highwages."
"Ben earns every cent of it."
"Very possibly. By the way, what is this that Tom was telling meabout Ben being sent to New York to buy goods for the store?"
"It is true, if that is what you mean."
"Bless my soul! It is very strange of Crawford, and I may add, notvery judicious."
"I suppose Mr. Crawford is the best judge of that, sir."
"Even if the boy were competent, which is not for a moment to bethought of, it is calculated to foster his self-conceit."
"Ben is not self-conceited," said Mrs. Barclay, ready to resent anyslur upon her boy. "He has excellent business capacity, and if hewere older I should not need to ask favors of anyone."
"You are a mother, and naturally set an exaggerated estimate upon yourson's ability, which, I presume, is respectable, but probably notmore. However, let that pass. I did not call to discuss Ben but toinquire whether you had not thought better of the matter we discussedthe other evening."
"I never shall, Squire Davenport. When the time comes you canforeclose, if you like, but it will never be done with my consent."
"Ahem! Your consent will not be required."
"And let me tell you, Squire Davenport, if you do this wicked thing,it won't benefit you in the end."
Squire Davenport shrugged his shoulders.
"I am not at all surprised to find you so unreasonable, Mrs. Barclay,"he said. "It's the way with women. I should be glad if you wouldcome to look upon the matter in a different light; but I cannotsacrifice my own interests in any event. The law is on my side."
"The law may be on your side, but the law upholds a great deal that isoppressive and cruel."
"A curious set of laws we should have if women made them," said thesquire.
"They would not bear so heavily upon the poor as they do now."
"Well, I won't stop to discuss the matter. If you come to entertaindifferent views about the house, send word by Ben, and we will arrangethe details without delay. Mr. Kirk is anxious to move his family assoon as possible, and would like to secure the house at once."
"He will have to wait three months at least," said Mrs. Barclaycoldly. "For that time, I believe the law protects me."
"You are right there; but at the end of that tine you cannot expect asliberal terms as we are now prepared to offer you."
"Liberal!" repeated the widow, in a meaning tone.
"So I regard it," said the squire stiffly. "Good-evening."
An hour later Mrs. Barclay's reflections were broken in upon by theominous clang of the engine bell. This is a sound which alwaysexcites alarm in a country village.
"Where's the fire?" she asked anxiously, of a boy who was running bythe house.
"It's Crawford's store!" was the startling reply. "It's blazin' uplike anything. Guess it'll have to go."
"I hope Ben'll keep out of danger," thought Mrs. Barclay, as shehurriedly took her shawl and bonnet and started for the scene ofexcitement.
CHAPTER XIVBEN SHOWS HIMSELF A HERO
A fire in a country village, particularly where the building is aprominent one, is sure to attract a large part of the residentpopulation. Men, women, and children, as well as the hook and laddercompany, hurried to the scene of conflagration. Everybody felt apersonal interest in Crawford's. It was the great emporium whichprovided all the families in the village with articles of prime andsecondary necessity. If Paris can be called France, then Crawford'smight be called Pentonville.
"Crawford's on fire!" exclaimed old Captain Manson. "Bless my soul!It cannot be true. Where's my cane?"
"You don't mean to say you're goin' to the fire, father?" asked hiswidowed daughter in surprise, for the captain had bowed beneath theweight of eighty-six winters, and rarely left the domestic hearth.
"Do you think I'd stay at home when Crawford's was a-burning?"returned the captain.
"But remember, father, you ain't so young as you used to be. Youmight catch your death of cold."
"What! at a fire?" exclaimed the old man, laughing at his own joke.
"You know what I mean. It's dreadfully imprudent. Why, I wouldn't gomyself."
"Shouldn't think you would, at your time of life!" retorted herfather, chuckling.
So the old man emerged into the street, and hurried as fast as hisunsteady limbs would allow, to the fire.
"How did it catch?" the reader will naturally ask.
The young man who was the only other salesman besides Ben and theproprietor, had gone down cellar smoking a cigar. In one corner was aheap of shavings and loose papers. A spark from his cigar must havefallen there. Had he noticed it, with prompt measures the incipientfire might have been extinguished. But he went up stairs with thekerosene, which he had drawn for old Mrs. Watts, leaving behind himthe seeds of destruction. Soon the flames, arising, caught the woodenflooring of the upper store. The smell of the smoke notified Crawfordand his clerks of the impending disaster. When the door communicatingwith the basement was opened, a stifling smoke issued forth and thecrackling of the fire was heard.
"Run, Ben; give the alarm!" called Mr. Crawford, pale with dismay andapprehension. It was no time then to inquire how the fire caught.There was only time to save as much of the stock as possible, since itwas clear that the fire had gained too great a headway to be put out.
Ben lost no time, and in less than ten minutes the engine, which,fortunately, was housed only ten rods away, was on the ground. Thoughit was impossible to save the store, the fire might be prevented fromspreading. A band of earnest workers aided Crawford in saving hisstock. A large part, of course, must be sacrificed; but, perhaps, aquarter was saved.
All at once a terrified whisper spread from one to another:
"Mrs. Morton's children! Where are they? They must be in the thirdstory."
A poor woman, Mrs. Morton, had been allowed, with her two children, toenjoy, temporarily, two rooms in the third story. She had gone to afarmer's two miles away to do some work, and her children, seven andnine years of age, had remained at home. They seemed doomed tocertain death.
But, even as the inquiry went from lip to lip, the children appeared.They had clambered out of a third story window upon the sloping roofof the rear ell, and, pale and dismayed, stood in sight of the shockedand terrified crowd, shrieking for help!
"A ladder! A ladder!" exclaimed half a dozen.
But there was no ladder at hand--none nearer than Mr. Parmenter's,five minutes' walk away. While a messenger was getting it the fate ofthe children would be decided.
"Tell 'em to jump!" exclaimed Silas Carver.
"They'd break their necks, you fool!" returned his wife.
"Better do that than be burned up!" said the old man.
No one knew what to do--no one but Ben Barclay.
He seized a coil of rope, and with a speed which surprised evenhimself, climbed up a tall oak tree, whose branches overshadowed theroof of the ell part. In less than a minute he found himself on alimb just over the children. To the end of the rope was fastened astrong iron hook.
Undismayed by his own danger, Ben threw his rope, though he nearlylost his footing while he was doing it, and with an aim so precisethat the hook caught in the smaller girl's dress.
"Hold on to the rope, Jennie, if you can!" he shouted.
The girl obeyed him instinctively.
Drawing the cord hand over hand, the little girl swung clear, and waslowered into the arms of Ebenezer Strong, who detached the hook.
"Save the other, Ben!" shouted a dozen.
Ben needed no spur to further effort.
Again he thre
w the hook, and this time the older girl, comprehendingwhat was required, caught the rope and swung off the roof, scarcely intime, for her clothing had caught fire. But when she reached theground ready hands extinguished it and the crowd of anxious spectatorsbreathed more freely, as Ben, throwing down the rope, rapidlydescended the tree and stood once more in safety, having saved twolives.
Just then it was that the poor mother, almost frantic with fear,arrived on the ground.
"Where are my darlings? Who will save them?" she exclaimed, full ofanguish, yet not comprehending that they were out of peril.
"They are safe, and here is the brave boy who saved their lives," saidEbenezer Strong.
"God bless you, Ben Barclay!" exclaimed the poor mother. "You havesaved my life as well as theirs, for I should have died if they hadburned."
Ben scarcely heard her, for one and another came up to shake his handand congratulate him upon his brave deed. Our young hero wasgenerally self-possessed, but he hardly knew how to act when he foundhimself an object of popular ovation.
"Somebody else would have done it if I hadn't," he said modestly.
"You are the only one who had his wits about him," said Seth Jones."No one thought of the rope till you climbed the tree. We were alllooking for a ladder and there was none to be had nearer than Mr.Parmenter's."
"I wouldn't have thought of it myself if I hadn't read in a dailypaper of something like it," said Ben.
"Ben," said Mr. Crawford, "I'd give a thousand dollars to have donewhat you did. You have shown yourself a hero."
"Oh, Ben, how frightened I was when I saw you on the branch just overthe burning building," said a well-known voice.
Turning, Ben saw it was his mother who spoke.
"Well, it's all right now, mother," he said, smiling. "You are notsorry I did it?"
"Sorry! I am proud of you."
"I am not proud of my hands," said Ben. "Look at them."
They were chafed and bleeding, having been lacerated by his rapiddescent from the tree.
"Come home, Ben, and let me put some salve on them. How they mustpain you!"
"Wait till the fire is all over, mother."
The gallant firemen did all they could, but the store was doomed.They could only prevent it from extending. In half an hour the enginewas taken back, and Ben went home with his mother.
"It's been rather an exciting evening, mother," said Ben. "I ratherthink I shall have to find a new place."
CHAPTER XVBEN LOSES HIS PLACE
Ben did not find himself immediately out of employment. The nextmorning Mr. Crawford commenced the work of ascertaining what articleshe had saved, and storing them. Luckily there was a vacant storewhich had once been used for a tailor's shop, but had been unoccupiedfor a year or more. This he hired, and at once removed his goods toit. But he did not display his usual energy. He was a man of oversixty, and no longer possessed the enterprise and ambition which hadonce characterized him. Besides, he was very comfortably off, orwould be when he obtained the insurance money.
"I don't know what I shall do," he said, when questioned. "I wasbrought up on a farm, and I always meant to end my days on one.Perhaps now is as well any time, since my business is broken up."
This came to the ears of Squire Davenport, who was always keen-scentedfor a bargain. His wife's cousin, Mr. Kirk, who has already beenintroduced to the reader, had, in his earlier days, served as a clerkin a country store. He had no capital, to be sure, but the squire hadplenty. It occurred to him as a good plan to buy out the businesshimself, hire Kirk on a salary to conduct it, and so add considerablyto his already handsome income. He sent for Kirk, ascertained that hewas not only willing, but anxious, to manage the business, and then hecalled on Mr. Crawford.
It is unnecessary to detail the negotiations that ensued. It wasSquire Davenport's wish to obtain the business as cheaply as possible.The storekeeper, however, had his own estimate of its worth, and thesquire was obliged to add considerable to his first offer. In theend, however, he secured it on advantageous terms, and Mr. Crawfordnow felt able to carry out the plan he had long had in view.
It was in the evening, a week after the fire, that the bargain wasstruck, and Ben was one of the first to hear of it.
When he came to work early the next morning he found his employer inthe store before him, which was not usual.
"You are early, Mr. Crawford," he said, in evident surprise.
"Yes, Ben," was the reply. "I can afford to come early for a morningor two, as I shall soon be out of business."
"You haven't sold out, have you?" inquired Ben quickly.
"Yes; the bargain was struck last evening."
"How soon do you leave the store?"
"In three days. It will take that time to make up my accounts."
"I am sorry," said Ben, "for I suppose I shall have to retire, too."
"I don't know about that, Ben. Very likely my successor may wantyou."
"That depends on who he is. Do you mind telling me, or is it asecret?"
"Oh, no; it will have to come out, of course. Squire Davenport hasbought the business."
"The squire isn't going to keep the store, is he?" asked Ben, inamazement.
"No; though he will, no doubt, supervise it. He will employ amanager."
"Do you know who is to be the manager, Mr. Crawford?"
"Some connection of his named Kirk."
Ben whistled.
"Do you know him?" the storekeeper was led to inquire.
"I have not seen him, but he called with the squire on my mother,"said Ben significantly.
"I shall be glad to recommend you to him."
"It will be of no use, Mr. Crawford," answered Ben, in a decided tone."I know he wouldn't employ me, nor would I work for him if he would.Neither he nor the squire is a friend of mine."
"I did not dream of this, Ben. I am sorry if the step I have taken isgoing to deprive you of employment," said Mr. Crawford, who was akind-hearted man, and felt a sincere interest in his young clerk.
"Never mind, Mr. Crawford, I am not cast down. There will be otheropenings for me. I am young, strong, and willing to work, and I amsure I shall find something to do."
"That's right, Ben. Cheer up, and if I hear of any good chance, restassured that I will let you know of it."
Tom Davenport was not long in hearing of his father's bargain. Heheard it with unfeigned pleasure, for it occurred to him at once thatBen, for whom he had a feeling of hatred, by no means creditable tohim, would be thrown out of employment.
"Promise me, pa, that you won't employ Ben Barclay," he said.
"I have no intention of employing that boy," said his father. "Mr.Kirk has a son of his own, about Ben's age, and will, no doubt, puthim into the store, unless you should choose to go in and learn thebusiness."
"What! I become a store boy!" exclaimed Tom, in disgust. "No, thankyou. I might be willing to become salesman in a large establishmentin the city, but I don't care to go into a country grocery."
"It wouldn't do you any harm," said the squire, who was not quite sohigh-minded as his son. "However, I merely mentioned it as somethingyou could do if you chose."
"Bah! I don't choose it," said Tom decidedly.
"Well, well; you won't have to do it."
"It would put me on a level with Ben Barclay, if I stepped into hisshoes. Won't he be down in the month when he hears he has lost hisplace?" and Tom chuckled at the thought.
"That is no concern of mine," said the squire. "I suppose he can hireout to a farmer."
"Just the business for him", said Tom, "unless he should prefer to goto New York and set up as a bootblack. I believe I'll suggest that tohim!"
"Probably he won't thank you for the suggestion."
"I guess not. He's as proud as he is poor. It's amusing to see whatairs he puts on."
Squire Davenport, however, was not so much interested in that phase ofthe subject as Tom, and did not reply.
"I th
ink I'll go down street," thought Tom. "Perhaps I may comeacross Ben. I shall enjoy seeing how he takes it."
Tom had scarcely walked a hundred yards when he met, not the one ofwhom he had thought, but another to whom he felt glad to speak on thesame subject. This was Rose Gardiner, the prettiest girl in thevillage, who had already deeply offended Tom by accepting Ben as herescort from the magical entertainment in place of him. He had madeadvances since, being desirous of ousting Ben from his position offavorite, but the young lady had treated him coldly, much to his angerand mortification.
"Good-morning, Miss Rose," said Tom.
"Good-morning," answered Rose civilly.
"Have you heard the news?"
"To what news do you refer?"
"Crawford has sold out his business."
"Indeed!" said Rose, in surprise; "who has bought it?"
"My father. Of course, he won't keep store himself. He will put in aconnection of ours, Mr. Kirk."
"This is news, indeed! Where is Mr. Crawford going?"
"I don't know, I'm sure. I thought you'd be more apt to inquire aboutsomebody else?"
"I am not good at guessing enigmas," said Rose.
"Your friend, Ben Barclay," returned Tom, with a sneer. "Father won'thave him in the store!"
"Oh, I see; you are going to take his place," said Rose mischievously.
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