THE RESULT OF AN ADVERTISEMENT.
The advertisement for Ernest in a St. Louis daily paper came about in
this way:
Bolton was in the habit of inquiring from time to time, of Western
clients, if they were acquainted with any persons bearing the name of
Ray. One gentleman, who frequently visited St. Louis, answered, "Yes,
I know a boy named Ray."
"Tell me all you know about him," said Bolton, eagerly.
"I was staying at the Southern Hotel last winter," answered Mr.
Windham, "when my attention was called to a bright-looking newsboy
who sold the evening newspapers outside. I was so attracted by him
that I inquired his name. He said it was Ray, and that he was alone in
the world."
"What was his first name?"
"I can't recall. I am not sure that I heard it."
"Was it Ernest?"
"Very possibly. But, as I said before, I cannot speak with any
certainty."
"How old did the boy appear to be?"
"About sixteen."
"That would have been the age of Dudley Ray's son," said Bolton to
himself.
"I suppose you didn't learn where the boy lived?"
"No."
This was all the information Mr. Windham was able to impart, but
Bolton felt that it was possibly of importance. It was, in fact, the
first clue he had been able to obtain.
That Dudley Ray's son should be forced by dire necessity to sell
newspapers was not in the least improbable. He went to an advertising
agency, and inserted the advertisement already mentioned.
A few days later he received two letters post-marked St. Louis.
He opened them with a thrill of excitement.
He felt that he was on the verge of making an important discovery.
One letter was addressed in a school-boy hand, and ran thus:
DEAR SIR:
I saw your advertisement in one of the morning papers. I hope it means
me. My name is not Ernest, but it may have been changed by some people
with whom I lived in Nebraska. I am sixteen years old, and am a poor
boy obliged to earn my living by selling papers. My father died when I
was a baby, and my mother three years later. So I am alone in the
world, and I am having a hard time. I suppose you wouldn't advertise
for me unless you had some good news for me. You may send your answer
to this letter to the Southern Hotel. The clerk is a friend of mine,
and he says he will save it for me.
Yours respectfully, ARTHUR RAY.
"That isn't the boy," said Bolton, laying down the letter in
disappointment. "The name is different, and, besides, the writer says
that his father died when he was a baby. Of course that settles the
question. He is a different boy."
He opened the second letter, hoping that it might be more
satisfactory.
It was the letter of Tom Burns, setting forth his meeting Ernest at
Oak Forks, and afterwards running across him at Oreville in
California.
"Eureka!" exclaimed Bolton, his face beaming with exultation. "This is
the boy and no mistake. I will at once answer this letter, and also
write to Ernest Ray in California."
This was the letter received by Burns:
DEAR SIR:
I am very much indebted to you for the information contained in your
letter of two days since. I have reason to think that the boy you
mention is the one of whom I am in search. If it proves to be so, I am
free to tell you that he will be much benefited by your communication.
There is a considerable estate, now wrongfully held by another, to
which he is entitled. Should things turn out as I hope and expect, I
will see that you lose nothing by the service you have rendered him
and myself. I will write to him by this mail. Should you change your
address, please notify me.
Yours truly, BENJAMIN BOLTON, 182 Nassau Street, New York.
The letter written to Ernest ran thus:
ERNEST RAY, OREVILLE, CALIFORNIA:
I have for some time been seeking to find you. Finally, in response to
an advertisement inserted in a St. Louis daily paper, I learn that you
are at present living in Oreville, California. This information was
given me by one Thomas Burns, who is employed at the Planters Hotel.
The name is, I hope, familiar to you. It is very desirable that I
should have an interview with you. If you are the son of Dudley Ray,
formerly residing at or near Elmira, what I have to say will be
greatly to your advantage.
Will you write me at once, letting me know whether this is the case?
Also, state your present circumstances, and whether you need pecuniary
help. It is unfortunate that we are so far apart. I am connected with
a New York legal firm, and can not very well go to California, but I
might assist you to come to New York if, as I suppose, your means are
limited. Will you write to me at once whether this is the case? I
shall anxiously await your reply.
BENJAMIN BOLTON, Attorney-at-law, 182 Nassau Street, New York City.
Ernest read this letter with eager interest, and showed it to Luke
Robbins.
"What do you think of it, Luke?" he asked.
"What do I think of it? It looks very much as if you were entitled to
some money."
"What shall I do?"
"Write this Mr. Bolton that you will go at once to New York, and call
upon him."
"But how about the store? I should not like to leave Mr. Ames in the
lurch."
"I will take your place here, and in order to qualify myself for it, I
will come in to morrow and begin to serve an apprenticeship."
Ernest wrote to Bolton that he would start for New York in a week. He
added that he had the money necessary for the journey. He said also
that he was the son of Dudley Ray, and that he remembered visiting
Elmira with his father.
When Bolton received this letter he exclaimed, triumphantly, "Now,
Stephen Ray, I have you on the hip. You looked down upon me when I
called upon you. In your pride and your unjust possession of wealth
you thought me beneath your notice. Unless I am greatly mistaken, I
shall be the instrument under Providence of taking from you your
ill-gotten gains, and carrying out the wishes expressed in the last
will of your deceased uncle."