Produced by Al Haines.
[Illustration: Cover]
[Illustration: "I'LL TRY MY BEST," REPLIED JACK, TAKING UP HIS KIT OF
TOOLS.]
A Young
Inventor's Pluck
OR
THE MYSTERY OF THE
WILLINGTON LEGACY
BY
Arthur M. Winfield,
Author of "THE ROVER BOYS AT SCHOOL,"
"THE MISSING TIN BOX," "SCHOOLDAYS OF
FRED HARLEY," etc.
NEW YORK -- AKRON, O. -- CHICAGO
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO.
1901
COPYRIGHT, 1901,
BY
THE SAALFIELD PUBLISHING CO.
INTRODUCTION
_My Dear Boys and Girls:_--
"A YOUNG INVENTOR'S PLUCK" relates the adventures of a wide-awake
American lad of a mechanical turn of mind, who suddenly finds himself
thrown upon his own resources and compelled to support not only himself,
but likewise his sister.
Jack Willington's path is no easy one to tread. The bank in which the
sister and brother have their little store of money deposited fails, and
with this comes the shutting down of the tool works in which our hero is
employed. To add to the lad's troubles, there is a large fire in the
town and the youth is accused of incendiarism.
But Jack and his sister Deb are not without friends, and the fact that
the boy is an inventor and has almost ready the model of a useful and
valuable invention, aids him to secure his release, and then he goes
forth to run down his enemies and to solve the mystery connected with a
rich family legacy.
Generally speaking, life in a factory town is thought to be dull and
monotonous, whereas the truth is, that it is usually full of interest
and not devoid of excitement of a peculiar kind. In this tale I have
tried to picture life in such a place truthfully, with all of its lights
and its shadows, and I hope that my story will prove more or less
instructive in consequence.
Affectionately your friend,
ARTHUR M. WINFIELD.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER I.
THE SHUT DOWN
CHAPTER II.
FOR THE SAKE OF HOME
CHAPTER III.
A RESULT OF A FIRE
CHAPTER IV.
BAD NEWS FOR DEB
CHAPTER V.
FINDING BAIL
CHAPTER VI.
HOME ONCE MORE
CHAPTER VII.
INTO THE RIVER
CHAPTER VIII.
SOMETHING ABOUT THE MODEL
CHAPTER IX.
MR. BENTON MAKES TROUBLE
CHAPTER X.
DRIVEN FROM HOME
CHAPTER XI.
ON THE RIVER ROAD
CHAPTER XII.
JACK'S DANGEROUS POSITION
CHAPTER XIII.
OVER THE FALLS
CHAPTER XIV.
MAX POOLER'S MEG
CHAPTER XV.
THE MISER OF THE ISLAND
CHAPTER XVI.
ON BOARD THE "KITTY"
CHAPTER XVII.
MEG TO THE RESCUE
CHAPTER XVIII.
DEB AT THE MILL
CHAPTER XIX.
IN CORRIGAN'S POWER
CHAPTER XX.
MONT TELLS HIS STORY
CHAPTER XXI.
CORRIGAN MAKES A MOVE
CHAPTER XXII.
HEAPS OF MONEY
CHAPTER XXIII.
THE MISER'S TREASURE
CHAPTER XXIV.
A GLIMPSE OF THE PAST
CHAPTER XXV.
CHASING ANDY MOSEY
CHAPTER XXVI.
PAPERS OF GREAT VALUE
CHAPTER XXVII.
"LOVE YOUR ENEMIES"--CONCLUSION
ILLUSTRATIONS.
"I'll try my best," replied Jack taking up his kit of tools . . .
Frontispiece
"Well, sir, what is it?" he asked, hardly looking up
Jack was soon as busy as a bee, putting the machines in running order
and overhauling other farming implements
"Been tellin' sthories about me!" he exclaimed. "Sayin' I sthole yer
match-box an' set foire to old gray's house! Oi'll fix ye!"
With a quick spring he gave the young man a push that sent him spinning
over backward
The body came within his reach, and leaning over, he stayed its progress
"Did you really go over them falls?" she continued, jerking her thumb in
the direction
The miser of the island had lost his balance, and after vainly clutching
the air to save himself, had floundered into the water and mud below
"I mean just this," replied Corrigan, catching her by the arm, "you are
my prisoner and must do as I say"
With a strong push of his powerful arm, he sent the man flying into a
corner
A YOUNG INVENTOR'S PLUCK
CHAPTER I.
THE SHUT DOWN
"Oh Jack! how blue you look!"
"I feel blue, Deb," answered Jack Willington, as he entered the door of
his modest home and gave his sister the brotherly kiss he knew she was
expecting.
"Is there something the matter up at the tool works, Jack?"
"Yes, Deb. The works are going to shut down."
"To shut down?" repeated the girl, her eyes wide open in affright, for
she knew only too well what such a calamity meant. "When will they
close?"
"To-morrow. In fact we have quit on the regular work already."
"And how long will the shut-down last?"
"Nobody knows. I asked Mr. Johnson--he's the foreman, you know--and he
said he thought a month or six weeks, but he wasn't sure."
"A month! Oh, Jack, it's an awfully long time!"
And Deb Willington's face grew very grave.
"I know it is--longer than I care to remain idle, even if I could afford
to, which I can't. But that's not the worst of it."
"No?"
"No; they didn't pay us for the last two weeks' work."
"Why not?"
"Johnson said that they wanted to pay off every man in full, and that
the figuring would take several days."
"And you won't get any money till then?"
"Not a cent. My private opinion is that the company is in some sort of
a financial difficulty, and only want to gain time. Mont didn't have a
word to say about it when I asked him, and, I imagine he knows a good
deal about his uncle's affairs."
Deb cast down her eyes in a meditative way.
"To-morrow is rent day," she said, after a pause.
"I know it. I've been thinking of it all the way home. How much have
we got toward paying the six dollars?"
"Three dollars and a half." And Deb brought forth the amount from her
small purse.
"Humph! I don't see what's to be done," mused Jack, as he removed his
hat and sat down. "Mr. Hammerby will have to wait for his money."
"Will he?"
"I don't see what else he can do. But, aside from that, three dollars
and a half won't keep us a month. I'll have to look elsewhere for
work."
Deborah and John Willington were orphans. Their father had died some ten
years before. He had been a strong, industrious and ingenious
machinist, of a quiet nature, and at his demise left his wife and two
children with a small property, which, however, was subject to a
mortgage of several hundred dollars.
His widow found it no easy matter to get along. Jack was but seven years
of age and Deb five, and, of course, could do little or nothing, except
occasionally to "help mamma."
Mrs. Willington in her reduced circumstances had taken in sewing, and
also opened a school for little children, and by these means had earned
a scanty living for her family.
But it was not long before the strain began to tell upon the brave
woman. She was naturally delicate, and grew weaker slowly but surely,
until, eight years later, she quietly let slip the garment she was
making, folded her hands, and peacefully went to join her husband in the
Great Beyond.
Deb and Jack were terribly startled when the sad event occurred. They
were utterly alone in the world. It was true that there were distant
relatives upon their mother's side, but they had always been too proud
to notice the Willington family, and now made no attempt to help the
orphans.
Shortly after the mother's funeral, the mortgage on the homestead fell
due, and as it could not be met, the place went under the auctioneer's
hammer.
Realty in Corney, as the factory town was called, was not booming at the
time, and, as a consequence, when all the costs were paid, only one
hundred dollars and the furniture remained as a start in life for the
two children.
They had no home, no place to go. What was to be done?
A kind neighbor spoke of adopting Deb, and another obtained for Jack a
job in the Tool Company's works.
But the two would not separate. When Jack mentioned it, Deb sobbed and
clung to him, until he declared that she should remain with him no
matter what happened.
At this time Jack earned eight dollars a week, and had the prospect of a
raise. With this amount they rented three rooms for six dollars a
month, and Deb, young as she was, took upon herself the important duties
of housekeeping.
Things moved crudely at first, but it was so nice to be together, to
work for one another, that, excepting for their recent bereavement,
which still hung as a heavy cloud over their lives, they lived as
happily as "two bugs in a rug."
Jack thought the world of his sister Deb. He was a rather silent
fellow, with a practical turn of mind, not given overmuch to fun making,
and his sister's bright and cheerful way was just what was needed to
lift his mind out of the drudge-rut into which it was wont to run.
He spent all his evenings in her company, either at home or, when the
weather was fine, in strolling around Corney, or in attendance upon some
entertainment that did not cost much money, and which gave Deb keen
enjoyment. Sometimes, when he got the chance, he would do odd jobs at
his bench on the sly, and then, with the extra money thus earned, would
surprise Deb by buying her something which he knew she desired, but
which their regular means would not afford.
Jack was now earning twelve dollars a week and they lived much more
comfortably than before. During the past three years they had saved
quite a neat sum, but a month of severe illness for Deb had now reduced
them to their original capital of one hundred dollars, which was
deposited in the Mechanics' Savings Bank of Corney--a sum that both had
decided should not be touched unless it became absolutely necessary.
Young as he was, Jack understood the machinist's trade thoroughly. He
took a lively interest in his work, and the doing of jobs on his own
account had led him to erect a small workbench at home.
Here he often experimented upon various improvements in machinery,
hoping at some time to invent that which might bring him in a
substantial return.
One of his models--a planing machine attachment--was nearly completed,
and this had been considerably praised by Mr. Benton, a shrewd
speculator in inventions of various kinds.
"I'm afraid we'll have to draw part of that hundred dollars from the
bank," observed Jack as the two were eating the neat supper Deb had
prepared. "I hate to do it, but I don't see any way out of it."
"It does seem a shame, after we've kept it so long," returned his
sister. "But do as you think best. Only, Jack, dear, please don't
worry. It will all come out right in the end."
Her brother had laid down his knife and fork and was resting his chin on
his hand in deep meditation.
"You're right, Deb," he exclaimed starting up, "and I ought to be
thankful for what we have got, especially for having such a good little
sister to ease things up."
"Say, Jack," suddenly began Deb, struck with an idea, "you are so handy
with the tools, why don't you open a little shop of your own? Wouldn't
it pay?"
Jack's face brightened more than it had for many a day.
"I'm glad you said that," he replied. "I've often thought of it. But I
hated to give up a certainty like my wages for----"
"Yes, but now----" began Deb.
"One misfortune gives me a chance to tempt another." He gave a sorry
little laugh. "Is that what you mean?"
"You'll get along--never fear."
"There ought to be a chance, true enough. I could sharpen tools, repair
lawn mowers and bicycles, and mend all sorts of things. There is no
such shop in Corney as yet, and it ought to pay."
"How much would it cost to start?" asked Deb, with great interest.
"I think fifty or sixty dollars would put me into shape to do small
work. I have most of the tools, and would only need a lathe and one or
two other things--that I could get second-hand."
"I'll tell you what to do then," was Deb's conclusion; "to-morrow
morning, go down to the bank and draw out seventy-five dollars. Then
we'll pay the rent, and you can take the rest and try your luck."
"Yes, but----"
"No buts, Jack; I'm willing to put up with whatever comes--bad luck as
well as good. I'm sure you'll succeed."
"If your good wishes count for anything, I certainly shall," exclaimed
Jack, earnestly. "I think I can rent a shop for ten dollars a month,
or, maybe, if I pay a little more, I can get one with living rooms
attached, which would be cheaper than hiring two places."
"And nicer, too," returned Deb; "you wouldn't have to go so far for
dinner, and I could attend to customers while you were away."
The pair talked in this strain for over an hour. His sister's sanguine
way of looking at the matter made the young machinist feel as if perhaps
the shut-down was not such a bad thing, after all, and might prove the
turning point to something better than they had ever before known.
The next morning, for the first time in several years, Jack had
breakfast late. It was soon over, and then he put on his good clothes
and started for the bank.
The streets were thronged with idle men. The Corney Tool Company
employed nearly a thousand persons--in fact, it was by far the principal
factory in the place--and to have all these employes thrown out of work
was a calamity discussed by everyone.
The Mechanics' Savings Bank had been organized by Mr. Felix Gray, the
owner of the tool works, who presided over both places. He was a man of
fifty, with an unusually sharp and irritable disposition.
As Jack approached the bank he noticed a large crowd collected in and
around the building.
"I suppose, as they can't get their pay, they want to withdraw some of
their savings," was his thought as he drew nearer.
An instant later a queer cry came from the interior of the bank, and it
was quickly taken up by those outside.
"What is it?" asked the young machinist, of a bystander.
"They've suspended payment," was the short reply.
"What!" gasped Jack, in horror. "You don't mean it?"
But at the same time the crowd cried out loudly, in angry tones:
"The bank's burst! She's gone up for good! No money for the poor man!
We can all starve!"