Ralph recognized that strident voice at once. It belonged to Gasper
Farrington, one of the wealthiest men of Stanley Junction, and one of
the meanest.
Whenever Ralph had met the man, and he met him often, one fact had been
vividly impressed upon his mind. Gasper Farrington had a natural
antipathy for all boys in general, and for Ralph Fairbanks in
particular.
The Criterion Baseball Club was a feature with juvenile Stanley
Junction, yet they had many a privilege abrogated through the influence
of Farrington. He had made complaints on the most trivial pretexts,
winning universal disrespect and hatred from the younger population.
More than once he had put himself out to annoy Ralph. In one instance
the latter had stood for the rights of the club in a lawyer-like manner.
He had beaten Farrington and the town board combined on technical legal
grounds as to the occupancy of a central ball field, and Ralph's
feelings towards the crabbed old capitalist had then settled down to
dislike, mingled with a certain silent independence that nettled
Farrington considerably.
He had publicly dubbed Ralph "the ringleader of those baseball
hoodlums," a stricture passed up by the club with indifference.
Ralph never set his eyes on Farrington but he was reminded of his
father. John Fairbanks had come to Stanley Junction before the Great
Northern was even thought of. He had thought of it first. A practical
railroad man, he had gone through all the grades of promotion of an
Eastern railway system, and had become a division superintendent.
He had some money when he came to Stanley Junction. He foresaw that the
town would one day become a tactical center in railroad construction,
submitted a plan to some capitalists, and was given supervisory work
along the line.
His minor capital investment in the enterprise was obscured by mightier
interests later on, but before he died it was generally supposed that he
held quite an amount of the bonds of the railroad, mutually with Gasper
Farrington.
It was a surprise to his widow, and to friends generally of the
Fairbanks family, when, after Mr. Fairbanks' death, a few hundred
dollars in the bank and the homestead, with a twelve-hundred dollar
mortgage on it in favor of Gasper Farrington, were found to comprise the
total estate.
Mrs. Fairbanks discovered letters, memoranda and receipts showing that
her deceased husband and Farrington had been mutually engaged in several
business enterprises, but they were vague and fragmentary, and, after
ascertaining from her the extent of her documentary evidence, Farrington
bluntly declared he had been a loser by her husband.
He professed a friendship for the dead railroader, however, and in a
patronizing way offered to help the widow out of her difficulties by
taking the homestead off her hands for the amount of the mortgage, "and
making no trouble."
Mrs. Fairbanks had promptly informed him that she had no intention of
selling out, and for two years, until the present time, had been able to
meet the quarterly interest on the mortgage when due.
Gasper Farrington was now on one of his periodical visits on business to
the cottage, but as, right at the home threshold, and in the presence of
the gentle, loving-hearted widow, he gave utterance to the scathing
remark still burning in the listener's ears, a boy of true spirit,
Ralph's soul seemed suddenly to expand as though it would burst with
indignation and excitement.
Many times Ralph had asked his mother concerning their actual business
relations with Gasper Farrington, but she had put him off with the
evasive remark that he was "too young to understand."
But now he seemed to understand. The spiteful tone of the crabbed old
capitalist implied that he indulged in the present malicious outburst
because in some way he had the widow in his power.
Ralph took an instantaneous step forward, but paused. He could trust
his mother to retain her dignity on all occasions, and he recalled her
frequent directions to him to never act on an angry impulse.
Now he could see into the room. His mother stood by her sewing basket,
a slight flush of indignation on her face.
Farrington squirmed against the doorway, fumbling his cane, and puffing
and purple with violent internal commotion.
"Then what's the matter with that idle, good-for-nothing, son of yours
going to work and paying the honest debts of the family!" he stormily
repeated.
The widow looked up. Her lips fluttered, but she said calmly: "Mr.
Farrington, Ralph is neither idle nor good-for-nothing."
"Huh! aint! What's he good for?"
The widow's face became momentarily glorified, the true mother love
shone in the depths of her pure, clear eyes.
"He is the best son a mother ever had." She spoke with a tremor that
made Ralph thrill, and must have made Farrington squirm.
"He is affectionate, obedient, considerate. And that is why I have
never burdened his young shoulders with my troubles."
"It's high time, then!" snarled Farrington--"a big, overgrown bumpkin!
Guess he'll shoulder some responsibility soon, or some one else will, or
you'll all be without a shelter."
Ralph felt a sinking at the heart at the vague threat. He was relieved,
however, as anxiously glancing at his mother's face he observed that she
was not a whit disturbed or frightened.
"Mr. Farrington," she said, "Ralph has nothing to do with our business
affairs, but I wish to say this: I am satisfied that my dead husband
left means we have never been able to trace. It lies between your
conscience and yourself to say how much more you know about this than I
do. I have accepted the situation, however, and with the few dollars in
ready money he left me, and my sewing, I have managed to so far give
Ralph a fair education. He has well deserved the sacrifice. He has
been foremost in every athletic sport, a leader and of good influence
with his mates, and was the best scholar at the school, last term."
"Oho! prize pupil in the three R's!" sneered Farrington--"Counts high,
that honor does!"
"It is a step upwards, humble though it be," retorted Mrs. Fairbanks
proudly. "If he does as well in his academic career----"
"In his what?" fairly bellowed Farrington. "Is the woman crazy? You
don't mean to tell me, madam, that you have any such wild idea in your
head as sending him to college?"
"I certainly have."
"Then you'll never make it--you'll waste your dollars, and bring him up
a pampered ingrate, and he's a sneak if he allows his old mother to dig
and slave her fingers off for his worthless pleasure!"
A faint flush crossed the widow's face. Ralph burst the bounds. He
sprang forward, and confronted the astonished magnate so abruptly that
in the confusion of the moment, Farrington dropped his cane.
"Mr. Farrington," said Ralph, striving hard to keep control of himself,
"my mother is not old, but I am--older than I was an hour ago, I can
tell you! old enough to understand what I never knew before, and----"
"Hello!" sniffed Farrington, "what's this your business?"
"I just overheard you say it was essentially my business," answered
Ralph. "I begin to think so myself. At all events, I'm going to take a
hand in my mother's affairs hereafter. If I have hitherto been blind to
the real facts, it was because I had the best mother in the world, and
never realized the big sacrifice she was making for me."
"Bah!"
"Mr. Farrington," continued Ralph, seeming to grow two inches taller
under the influence of some new, elevating idea suddenly finding
lodgment in his mind, "as a person fully awakened to his own general
worthlessness and idle, good-for-nothing character, and in duty bound to
pay the honest debts of the family--to quote your own words--what is
your business here?"
"My business!" gasped Farrington, "you, you--none of your business! Mrs.
Fairbanks," he shouted, waving his cane and almost exploding with rage,
"I've said my say, and I shan't stay here to be insulted by a pert chit
of a boy. You'd better think it over! I'll give you five hundred
dollars to surrender the house and get out of Stanley Junction. Decline
that, and fail to pay me the interest due to-day, and I'll close down on
you--I'll sell you out!"
"Can he do it?" whispered Ralph, in an anxious tone.
"No, Ralph," said his mother. "Mr. Farrington, I believe I have thirty
days in which to pay the interest?"
"It's due to-day."
"I believe I have thirty days," went on the widow quietly. "It is the
first time I have been delinquent. I have even now within twenty
dollars of the amount. Before the thirty days are over you shall have
your money."
"I'll serve you legal notice before night!" growled Farrington--"I don't
wait on promises, I don't!"
There were hot words hovering on Ralph's lips. It would do him good, he
felt, to give the heartless old capitalist a piece of his mind. A
glance from his mother checked him.
She was the gracious, courteous lady in every respect as she ushered her
unpleasant visitor from the house.
Her heart was full in more ways than one as she returned to the little
sitting room. A predominating emotion filled her thoughts. She
understood Ralph's mind thoroughly, and realized that circumstances had,
as he had himself declared, "awakened him."
She had intuitively traced in his manner and words a change from
careless, boyish impetuosity to settled, manly resolution, and was
thankful in her heart of hearts.
"Ralph!" she called softly.
But Ralph was gone.