BOUGHT OFF
Bolton's reply did not quite suit Mr. Ray, but he felt that if he said too
much about the will it would give it an exaggerated importance in the eyes
of the man before him. So he answered carelessly: "I will give you the
hundred dollars, but I wish it understood that it is all I can give you at
any time. Don't apply to me again, for it will be of no use."
"I understand," said Bolton non-committally.
"Shall I give you a check?"
"I could do better with the money. My name is not known now at any bank."
"Well, I think I can accommodate you. I believe I have that sum in my
desk."
He opened a drawer in his secretary, and produced a hundred dollars in
crisp new bills. They had been taken from the bank the day before for a
different purpose.
Bolton took them joyfully. It was long since he had so much money in his
possession. He had been his own worst enemy. Once a prosperous lawyer he
had succumbed to the love of drink and gradually lost his clients and his
position. But he had decided to turn over a new leaf, and he saw in this
money the chance to reinstate himself, and in time recover his lost
position.
"Thank you," he said, but while there was relief there was no gratitude in
his tone.
"And now," said Stephen Ray, "I must ask you to leave me. I have important
business to attend to. You will excuse me if I suggest it would be better
to go away--to a distance--and try to build yourself up somewhat where you
are not known."
"I might go to Savannah."
"Yes, to Savannah, if you think it will be to your advantage," said Ray
with equanimity.
The other noticed his manner, and he said to himself: "He is willing to
have me visit Savannah. It is clear that Ernest did not die there."
Benjamin Bolton left the house in a pleasant frame of mind. It was not the
sum which he had received that exhilarated him. He looked upon it only as
the first installment. It was clear that Stephen Ray feared him, for he
was not an open-handed man, and would not have parted with his money
unnecessarily.
Bolton had not arranged his campaign, but he was determined to raise
himself in the world by playing on the fears of the man he had just
visited.
"I wonder," he said to himself, "whether Dudley Ray's son is dead. If so
the document is of no value, and though I should prefer to have it, I
won't insist. He was a strong and healthy boy, and he may still be
living."
This was a point not easy to ascertain.
He went to a restaurant and obtained a substantial meal, of which he stood
very much in need. Then he went out for a stroll. He did not propose to
leave the place yet.
As he was walking along he met Clarence Ray again, but not now on his
wheel. The boy recognized him.
"Are you going to stay in town?" asked Clarence curiously.
"Not long."
"Did you get through your business with pa?"
"Yes, for the present. I suppose you know that you have a cousin about
your own age. I used to know him and his father."
"Did you? His father is dead."
"So I have understood. Do you happen to know where the son is?"
"Somewhere out West, I think."
Bolton pricked up his ears. So it seemed that Stephen Ray had deceived
him.
"I would give five dollars to know where he is," he said slowly.
"Have you got five dollars?" Clarence asked doubtfully.
By way of answer Bolton took a roll of bills from his pocket. They were
those which Stephen Ray had given him.
"Do you mean it?" asked Clarence in a more respectful tone.
"Yes, I mean it."
"Why didn't you ask pa?"
"He never liked the boy nor his father, and I don't think he would tell
me."
"That is true. He didn't like either of them."
"I suppose you couldn't find out for me?"
"I don't know but I could," answered Clarence brusquely.
He had a special use for five dollars, and it struck him that he might
just as well earn the money offered by the stranger.
"If you could I would cheerfully pay you the five dollars. You see I used
to know Ernest Ray and his father, and I would be pleased to meet them
again."
"Just so," said Clarence complacently. "How long are you going to remain
in town?"
"I did think of going to Elmira to-night, but I think on the whole I will
stay at the hotel here till to-morrow morning."
"That will give me time to find out," said Clarence.
"All right! You had better not ask your father, for I don't think he would
tell you."
"That's so. He will be going out this evening, and then I will search in
his desk. I saw a letter there once in which the boy's name was mentioned.
But I say, if you've got money why don't you buy some new clothes?"
"Your suggestion is a good one," said Bolton, smiling. "Come to look at
myself I do appear shabby. But then I'm no dude. I dare say when you rode
into me this morning you took me for a tramp."
"Well, you did look like one."
"That's so. I can't blame you."
"Shall I find you at the hotel this evening?"
"Yes."
"Then I'll see what I can do."
About seven o'clock Squire Ray went out to attend to a business meeting,
and Clarence was left in possession of the study. He locked the door, and
began to ransack his father's desk. At length he succeeded in his quest.
Benjamin Bolton was sitting in the public-room of the hotel an hour later,
smoking a cigar, and from time to time looking toward the door. Presently
Clarence entered.
"Have you got it?" asked Bolton eagerly.
"Yes," nodded Clarence.
He took a piece of paper from his vest pocket and handed it to Bolton.
It read thus: "Ernest Ray, Oak Forks, Iowa."
"How did you get it?" asked Bolton.
"I found a letter in pa's desk from an old man named Peter Brant, asking
pa for some money for the boy, who was living with him."
"When was that letter written?"
"About two years ago."
"Thank you. This gives me a clue. Come out of doors and I will give you
what I promised. It isn't best that anyone should think we had dealings
together."
Five minutes later Clarence started for home, happy in the possession of a
five-dollar bill.
"I never paid any money more cheerfully in my life," mused Bolton. "Now I
must find the boy!"