BENTON’S
VENTURE
[Illustration: “‘This is Saturday and we ought to have a half-holiday’”]
BENTON’S
VENTURE
BY
RALPH HENRY BARBOUR
AUTHOR OF “AROUND THE END,” “CHANGE SIGNALS,”
“FOR THE HONOR OF THE SCHOOL,” ETC.
[Illustration]
ILLUSTRATED
NEW YORK AND LONDON
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
1914
Copyright, 1914, by
D. APPLETON AND COMPANY
Printed in the United States of America
TO
SELINDA
ONE OF THE THREE BEST
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I.――TOM HAS AN IDEA 1
II.――AND SO HAS WILLARD 12
III.――MR. BENTON SAYS YES 24
IV.――JIMMY BRENNAN REPORTS 33
V.――THE BARGAIN IS SEALED 42
VI.――WILLARD GOES ON STRIKE 51
VII.――JERRY TO THE RESCUE 67
VIII.――TOM LEARNS TO RUN THE ARK 83
IX.――“CAB, SIR?” 100
X.――THE FIRST PASSENGER 110
XI.――THE _NEWS-PATRIOT_ AIDS 126
XII.――WILLARD ENCOUNTERS A FRIEND 137
XIII.――PAT HERRON LOSES HIS TEMPER 145
XIV.――JERRY TAKES A RIDE 154
XV.――AN AFTERNOON OFF 163
XVI.――AN INTERVIEW WITH THE POLICE 176
XVII.――“J. DUFF, JOBBING DONE” 186
XVIII.――DIVIDENDS FOR TWO 203
XIX.――MR. DUFF GIVES NOTICE 212
XX.――INTRODUCING JULIUS CÆSAR 221
XXI.――JIMMY MAKES A PROPOSITION 231
XXII.――THE BOYS TAKE A PARTNER 241
XXIII.――MR. CONNORS MAKES AN OFFER 250
XXIV.――JIMMY GOES TO NEW YORK 260
XXV.――THE ARK FINDS A NEW HOME 272
XXVI.――THE NEW MOTOR TRUCK 279
XXVII.――THE ENEMY IN TROUBLE 288
XXVIII.――A WILD RIDE 297
XXIX.――THE ARK SAYS GOOD-BYE 310
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING
PAGE
“‘This is Saturday and we ought to have a
half-holiday’” _Frontispiece_
“He gave the handle another half-dozen turns
without result” 86
“As long as it was in sight he stood and shook
his fist at it” 152
“‘How do you fellows feel about taking in a
partner?’ he asked quietly” 236
BENTON’S VENTURE
CHAPTER I
TOM HAS AN IDEA
“Want to buy an automobile, son?”
Tom Benton smiled and shook his head.
“All right,” pursued the man good-naturedly. “I saw you looking at it,
and I didn’t know but you might be wanting a good car. She’s a bargain.”
“Sort of――worn out, isn’t it?” asked Tom, moving around to a new point
of view.
“N-no, there’s life in her yet, I guess. ’Course she needs overhauling,
as you might say, and some paint. But she’s got four whole cylinders, a
good set of gears an’――an’ some other things. No, she ain’t as bad as
she looks. If you hear of anyone looking for a bargain in a five-seat,
twenty-two-horsepower automobile, you tell ’em to come and see me, son.”
“What do you want for her?” asked Tom.
The carriage dealer looked at him shrewdly, kicked one worn and
tattered tire as if to satisfy himself that it wouldn’t come to pieces,
and replied: “A hundred and fifty dollars takes her just as she stands,
with top, side curtains, top cover an’――an’ I think there’s a jack
under the hind seat.”
“I dare say that’s reasonable,” replied Tom doubtfully, “but I guess it
would take a lot to put that car in running shape, wouldn’t it?”
The dealer shrugged his shoulders. “I reckon fifty dollars would make
a new car out of her, son. A coat of paint would make a whole pile
of difference in her looks, anyway, and I’d paint her and varnish
her for――let me see now; well, for thirty dollars. And that’s twenty
dollars cheaper than anyone else would do it for. Better think it over.”
“I’m afraid I couldn’t buy her,” laughed Tom. “I haven’t got that much
money.”
“Well, I didn’t suppose you had, but maybe your father would buy it for
you. Ain’t you John Benton’s son? Ain’t Postmaster Benton your daddy?”
“Yes, sir, but I guess he isn’t buying automobiles just now. If I hear
of anyone wanting one, though, I’ll tell them about this one. Want me
to help you run it inside?”
“Yes, you might take a wheel over there. Wait till I put the brake off.
Now, then! Heave-o! That’s the ticket. Easy! Look out for them hubs
on that surrey. All right. Much obliged to you. Tell you what I’ll
do, son; if you send a buyer for her, I’ll make you a present of ten
dollars. That’s fair, eh? You tell folks she’s a bargain. She is, too.
I reckon I could get three hundred for her in the city. I took her in
trade from a man over to Graywich. Why, that car cost thirteen hundred
dollars when she was new!”
“I guess that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?” hazarded Tom.
“Humph! About three years, if the man told the truth. That ain’t
old, though, for an automobile. I was reading the other day about an
automobile that had been run twelve years and was as good as new!”
“Will this one run now?” Tom asked.
“She might if she had some gasoline in her. Mind, I ain’t saying she
would, for I ain’t tried her. I wouldn’t know how. I never ran one of
the things in my life. But the man I took her from says she’ll run, an’
I’ll take his word for it till I find out different. Anyway, she’s all
there; there ain’t no parts missing. You can tell ’em that, son.”
“Yes, sir; I will.”
Tom rescued his books, which he had laid aside, and, with a final
look at the automobile, left Saunders’ Carriage Works and took up
his homeward journey again. It was the first week in June, and the
afternoon was warm and almost summer-like. There was a lazy quality in
the air, which, possibly, explains why Tom had taken twenty minutes to
get from the high school to Saunders’ Carriage Works and why the sight
of a decrepit-looking automobile standing in front of the works had
caused him to pause and waste another ten minutes. He had left school
with the intention of going out to the field, after leaving his books
at home and making a raid on the pantry, to watch the high school team
practice baseball. Now, however, baseball practice had passed out of
his mind. He was thinking of that old automobile back there. He knew
very well what he would do with a hundred and fifty dollars if he had
it! He would buy that car, fix it up so it would run and make money
with it!
He needed money, too. He had already made up his mind to find work of
some kind as soon as school was over, and so far the best thing that
had offered was a position at four dollars a week in the Audelsville
Paper Mill. Tom was convinced that his services ought to be worth
more than that stipend, and, if a more remunerative position could
be found, the paper mill was not likely to see him. Tom’s father was
postmaster at Audelsville, but the salary was barely enough to provide
for a family of three. It had long been a settled matter that a college
education for Tom was beyond the possibilities, and that so soon as
he had graduated from the high school he was to go to work. There was
still another year of schooling ahead, however, and Tom, who needed
clothes pretty badly nowadays, owing to an unfortunate but quite
natural proclivity for outgrowing his garments, didn’t see why it was
necessary to complete his education before beginning to earn money. And
if he owned that automobile――Tom sighed as he pushed open the gate and
went up the short path to the house.
The pantry didn’t offer much in the way of variety to-day, but Tom
selected four doughnuts and a banana, and went out to the porch. There
he seated himself on the top step, and set to with a good appetite. He
had finished the second doughnut when the sound of whistling behind the
row of overgrown lilacs along the fence reached him. Tom craned his
neck, for the whistling sounded like the musical efforts of Willard
Morris. Tom was not mistaken. The smiling face of Willard appeared over
the gate.
“Hello, Tom!” greeted Willard. “Going out to the field?”
“I guess so. Come on in and have a doughnut.”
Nothing loth, Willard accepted the invitation, and a moment later was
perched at Tom’s side, and was setting his teeth into one of Mrs.
Benton’s doughnuts. Willard was a good-looking youth of seventeen,
large and broad-shouldered, with nice eyes, and a pleasant, likable
face. He was Tom’s senior by a full year, and was in the class ahead
of him at high school. But, in spite of that, the boys were very good
friends. While Willard’s father was no better off than Tom’s, Willard
himself had lately come into a small legacy from a grandmother who
had died, and he was to start in college in the fall――a piece of good
fortune that Tom certainly envied him.
“I wish,” announced Tom presently, after they had talked school affairs
for a few minutes, “I wish I had a hundred and fifty dollars, Will.”
“What for?”
“An automobile.”
Willard stared at him in surprise. “Gee,” he said, “you’re getting
swell! I’d like to see the automobile you’d get for a hundred and fifty
dollars, though, Tom!”
“You can see it in five minutes. It’s at Saunders’ Carriage Works. It’s
an old one, and I guess it’s in bad shape, but it could be fixed up all
right. It’s cheap at a hundred and fifty, I guess.”
“I guess most any automobile would be cheap at that figure if it could
be made to go. What do you want it for, Tom? Can you run one?”
“I’ve never tried, but anyone can run an automobile after learning how.
I’ve been sitting here wondering if father would get it for me if I
asked him. I guess he couldn’t afford it, though.”
“Say, are you daffy?” demanded Willard. “Of course he won’t buy you an
automobile! Besides, you’ve got a bicycle, haven’t you? Isn’t that good
enough for you? It takes money to run an auto after you’ve got it, Tom.”
“Oh, I don’t want it for――for pleasure. I want to make money with it,
Will. And I could if I had it, too.”
“How would you do it?”
“Well――――” Tom hesitated a moment. Then, “You aren’t thinking of buying
it yourself, are you?” he asked.
“Not a bit!” laughed Willard.
“Then I’ll tell you. You know when folks stop here in Audelsville,
drummers and folks like that, they have to go pretty near twelve blocks
to get to the hotel or the stores.”
“I know the station’s a long way from the town,” acknowledged Willard.
“I thought last Fall, after the Gordon Academy game, I’d never get
home. I had a lame ankle and a stiff knee, and it seemed about two
miles from the station to the house.”
“That’s what I mean. Drummers always have bags and trunks, and they
can’t walk to the hotel. So they take one of those rickety old hacks
down there, or they wait for a car.”
“They don’t if they’re in a hurry,” said Willard grimly. “The cars only
run every half-hour or so.”
“Twenty minutes; but they’re never there when a train comes in, and so
the folks usually take one of Connors’ hacks. That costs them fifty
cents apiece, and twenty-five cents for a trunk. Well, if I had that
automobile, Will, I’d be down there when the trains come in, and I
guess I’d do a good business. Most anyone would rather go to the hotel
in an automobile than a hack. It’s quicker, in the first place, and
then, besides, I’d take them up for a quarter.”
“Why, say, that isn’t a bad idea! But old Connors would be mad,
wouldn’t he? How many would your auto hold?”
“Four, besides me,” answered Tom. “It would be big enough most times, I
guess.”
“But gasoline would cost you money, Tom; don’t forget that. And oil;
and repairs. I don’t believe you’d make much at twenty-five cents
apiece.”
“I’ve figured I could clear about fifteen dollars a week,” replied Tom
thoughtfully. “At that rate I could pay father for the car and have
quite a little at the end of the summer. Then, if it proved a success,
maybe I could find someone to drive it for me in the winter while I’m
at school. But, there’s no use talking about it, I suppose, for I
don’t believe father would give me the money.”
“Maybe Saunders would sell on the installment plan,” Willard suggested.
“Then you could pay him a little every week. Did you ask him?”
Tom shook his head. “No; I didn’t really think seriously of it until
afterward. He told me he’d give me ten dollars if I’d find someone to
buy it from him. So I should think he’d sell it for a hundred and forty
if he didn’t have to pay out any commission, eh?”
“Shucks, Tom, he’d probably let you have it for a hundred and
twenty-five. Where’d he get it, anyway?”
So Tom told what little he knew of the car’s history, and Willard
listened thoughtfully. “Well, I’ll tell you what I’d do, Tom,” he said
finally. “If there was any chance of getting it, I’d find someone
who knows about automobiles, and have him look it over. Then, if it
wouldn’t cost too much to put it in shape, I’d offer Saunders a hundred
and twenty-five for it. Tell him you’ll pay him, say, fifty dollars
down, and so much a week. As for painting it, why, I don’t see why you
couldn’t do that yourself. It isn’t hard to paint. I’ll help, if you
like. And, I wouldn’t paint it black, either, because black shows all
the dust and mud. Paint it――paint it gray, Tom.”
“Yes, I guess that would be better. And I suppose I could do it myself,
as you say. It would be rather fun, wouldn’t it? Gee, I wish my father
would let me get it!”
“Well, ask him. There’s no harm in that. I guess you could do pretty
well with it, if you had it, Tom. What time is it? Let’s go out and
watch those duffers practice for a while.”
Mr. Benton listened gravely and interestedly that evening to Tom’s
plan, but shook his head.
“Tom,” he said finally, “I couldn’t find a hundred and twenty-five
dollars for you right now to save my life. Maybe I could find fifty if
Saunders would let you have the automobile for that much down, but it
would be risky, I’m afraid. Suppose you didn’t make your scheme work,
my boy? Then how would you meet your payments?”
“I don’t see how it could help working, father,” replied Tom earnestly.
“I guess there’s fully twenty to thirty folks going back and forth from
the station every day.”
“More, but they don’t all ride in hacks. Lots of them take the car and
lots more walk.”
“But they wouldn’t so many of them walk or take the car if they could
get up to town quickly and comfortably in an automobile.”
“Perhaps not. You can’t tell, though. Besides, I don’t know as I’d
want to do anything to hurt Connors’ business, Tom. He’s been doing the
station livery for a good many years now.”
“There wouldn’t be anything to keep him from putting on an automobile,
too, father, if he found I was getting the business away from him.”
“But supposing he did? Then where would you be?”
Tom was silent. Mr. Benton shook his head again.
“I appreciate your wanting to make money, Tom,” he said kindly, “but I
guess the best thing to do is to find some work somewhere and not risk
any capital. A hundred and twenty-five dollars looks pretty big to your
daddy these days!”