MATTERS AT HOME.
James Talbot was thoroughly put out by the way in which Robert had
treated him when the two had met on the street in Chicago.
"That boy hasn't the least respect for me," was what he told himself
bitterly. "I am afraid he will end up by making me a lot of trouble."
Before his sickness he had felt certain that he would get at least ten
thousand dollars of the Frost fortune in his hands,--to be invested,
so he had told Mrs. Talbot, in the real estate business in Chicago.
What he was really going to do with the cash, the man had not yet
decided. Certain it is, however, that neither Mrs. Talbot nor Robert
would have ever seen a dollar of it again.
When James Talbot arrived home he was so out of humor that even his
wife noticed it.
"You are not well again," she said.
"I met that boy of yours," he growled.
"You met Robert!" she exclaimed. "Where?"
"On the street, in Chicago."
"How was he looking?"
"Oh, he was well enough, madam. But let me tell you, that boy is going
to the dogs."
"Oh, I trust not, James."
"I say he is."
"Did you two quarrel?"
"He quarreled; I did not. I invited him to come back home, and what do
you think he said?"
"I cannot say."
"Said he wouldn't come back unless I got out. Said that to me, his
legal step-father," stormed Talbot.
"I am very sorry you and Robert cannot get along," sighed the lady
meekly.
"It's the boy's fault. He is a--a terror. He will end up in prison,
mark my words."
"I do not think so," answered Mrs. Talbot, and to avoid a scene she
quitted the room.
James Talbot was growing desperate, since the little money he had had
of his own was nearly all spent. By hook or by crook he felt that he
must get something out of his wife.
A few days later he concocted a scheme to further his own interests.
Coming home from the post-office, he rushed into his wife's presence
with a face full of smiles.
"Sarah, I have struck a bonanza!" he cried, waving a folded
legal-looking document over his head.
"A bonanza?" she queried, looking up from her sewing in wonder.
"Yes, a bonanza. I have the chance to make half a million dollars."
"In what way?"
"By investing in a dock property in Chicago, on the river. My friend,
Millet, put me on to the deal. The property is to be sold at private
sale, and Millet and I are going to buy it in--that is, if we can
raise the necessary cash."
"Is it so valuable?"
"We can get the property for twenty-five thousand dollars. It is right
next to the docks of the Dearborn Iron Manufacturing Company. They
wanted this land, but the owner quarreled with them and wouldn't let
them have it. Now we can gather it in for about half its value, and it
won't be a year before the iron people will offer us a fat sum for
it."
"But if the iron people want it, why don't they get a private party to
buy it in for them?" returned Mrs. Talbot.
"Oh, you women don't understand these things," answered James Talbot
loftily. "Millet has the bargain clinched--if only we can raise the
money."
"And how much will he raise?"
"Twelve thousand dollars. He wants me to put in the other thirteen
thousand. My dear, you will lend me that amount, won't you? It would
be a crime to let such a chance slip by."
"Don't you know that thirteen is an unlucky number?" said the lady
slowly.
"Surely, Sarah, you are not as superstitious as all that. If you are,
I'll get Millet to put up even with me--twelve thousand and five
hundred each. But I would rather have the balance of the say in the
matter."
"I am not superstitious, James, but--but----"
"But what? The money will be perfectly safe."
"I--I think I had better have a lawyer look into the deal first. There
may be some flaw in the title to the property."
"No, that is all right--Millet had it examined. There is no time to
spare, as the deal must be closed by noon to-morrow, or our option
comes to an end."
"It is very sudden."
"And that is how fortunes are made, my love. The man of business
watches his chances, and then seizes them before anybody else can get
ahead of him."
Mrs. Talbot was doubtful, and tried to argue. But her husband seemed
so positive that he at last won her over, and got her to make out a
check for the thirteen thousand dollars.
"But be careful, James," she pleaded. "Remember, I do not consider
this money really mine. At my death it must go to Robert."
"I shall be careful, Sarah, my love," he said. "Do not worry."
But to himself he thought: "That boy, always that boy! It will be a
long day before he sets eyes on a cent of this money!"
He could hardly control his delight, but he did his best to calm his
feelings before his wife.
The next day he was off for Chicago, stating that he would not be back
again for several days.
Secretly, Mrs. Talbot was much worried over what she had done.
"I hope the investment proves a good one," she thought. "I would not
wish to see the money lost. It must all go to Robert when I am gone."
She never considered that the Frost fortune was her own, for hers was,
as we know, only a life interest.
Two days later came a letter from Robert--not the one mailed from
London, but one he had penned in New York before taking the trip on
the ocean liner.
Mrs. Talbot was greatly interested in all her son had to say. She was
glad he was enjoying good health, and pleased to know that he would
write again on reaching the other side of the Atlantic.
On the same day that she received Robert's letter a visitor called
upon her. It was William Frankwell, her lawyer, and a man who had at
one time transacted all of Mr. Frost's legal business for him.
"You will excuse me for calling, Mrs. Talbot," said the lawyer, after
the usual greeting. "But I thought it might be for your interest to
drop in."
"I am glad to see you, Mr. Frankwell," she responded. "I was thinking
of sending for you."
"Indeed. Was it about that check?"
"What do you know of the check?" she cried.
"I heard of it at the bank, and I thought----"
The lawyer paused.
"That it was rather unusual for me to put out a check of that size?"
"Exactly."
"Mr. Talbot is going to use it in buying a dock property in Chicago."
And she gave the lawyer what particulars she possessed regarding the
transaction.
"If things are as you say, they are all right," said the lawyer.
"Mr. Frankwell, I wish you to look into the matter, and--and----"
"And see if everything is as represented," he finished.
"Yes. I am ashamed to own it, but my husband is--well, is not exactly
what I took him to be," she faltered.
"I understand, perfectly, Mrs. Talbot," answered William Frankwell
gravely. "I will do my best for you."
"I should not wish him to know that I am having an investigation
made."
"He shall not know it--I give you my word on that."
And so they parted, and the lawyer set one of his clerks to watching
James Talbot, to learn just what the man's underhanded work meant.