CHAPTER XIX.

AN ARTFUL SCHEME.

“Does this Mr. Stark intend to remain long in the village!” inquired the

bookkeeper, in a tone of assumed indifference.

“He didn’t say anything on that point,” answered Leonard.

“He did not say what business brought him here, I presume?”

“No, he was hardly in condition to say much; he was pretty full,” said

Leonard, with a laugh. “However, he wants me to call upon him to-morrow,

and may tell me then.”

“He wants you to call upon him?”

“Yes, uncle.”

“Are you going?”

“Yes; why shouldn’t I?”

“I see no reason,” said Gibbon, hesitating. Then, after a pause he

added: “If you see the way clear, find out what brings him to Milford.”

“Yes, uncle, I will.”

“Uncle Julius seems a good deal interested in this man, considering that

he is a stranger,” thought the boy.

The bookkeeper was biting his nails, a habit he had when he was annoyed.

“And, Leonard,” he added slowly, “don’t mention my name while you are

speaking to Stark.”

“No, sir, I won’t, if you don’t want me to,” answered Leonard, his face

betraying unmistakable curiosity. His uncle noted this, and explained

hurriedly: “It is possible that he may be a man whom I once met under

disagreeable circumstances, and I would prefer not to meet him again.

Should he learn that I was living here, he would be sure to want to

renew the acquaintance.”

“Yes, sir, I see. I don’t think he would want to borrow money, for he

seems to be pretty well provided. I made a dollar out of him to-day, and

that is one reason why I am willing to call on him again. I may strike

him for another bill.”

“There is no objection to that, provided you don’t talk to him too

freely. I don’t think he will want to stay long in Milford.”

“I wouldn’t if I had as much money as he probably has.”

“Do you often meet the new boy?”

“Carl Crawford?”

“Yes; I see him on the street quite often.”

“He lives with Mr. Jennings, I hear.”

“So he tells me.”

“It is rather strange. I didn’t suppose that Jennings would care to

receive a boy in his house, or that tall grenadier of a housekeeper,

either. I expect she rules the household.”

“She could tuck him under her arm and walk off with him,” said Leonard,

laughing.

“The boy must be artful to have wormed his way into the favor of the

strange pair. He seems to be a favorite.”

“Yes, uncle, I think he is. However, I like my position better than

his.”

“He will learn his business from the beginning. I don’t know but it was

a mistake for you to leave the factory.”

“I am not at all sorry for it, uncle.”

“Your position doesn’t amount to much.”

“I am paid just as well as I was when I was in the factory.”

“But you are learning nothing.”

“You are going to teach me bookkeeping.”

“Even that is not altogether a desirable business. A good bookkeeper can

never expect to be in business for himself. He must be content with a

salary all his life.”

“You have done pretty well, uncle.”

“But there is no chance of my becoming a rich man. I have to work hard

for my money. And I haven’t been able to lay up much money yet. That

reminds me? Leonard, I must impress upon you the fact that you have

your own way to make. I have procured you a place, and I provide you a

home----”

“You take my wages,” said Leonard, bluntly.

“A part of them, but on the whole, you are not self-supporting. You must

look ahead, Leonard, and consider the future. When you are a young man

you will want to earn an adequate income.”

“Of course, I shall, uncle, but there is one other course.”

“What is that?”

“I may marry an heiress,” suggested Leonard, smiling.

The bookkeeper winced.

“I thought I was marrying an heiress when I married your aunt,” he

said, “but within six months of our wedding day, her father made a bad

failure, and actually had the assurance to ask me to give him a home

under my roof.”

“Did you do it?”

“No; I told him it would not be convenient.”

“What became of him?”

“He got a small clerkship at ten dollars a week in the counting room of

a mercantile friend, and filled it till one day last October, when he

dropped dead of apoplexy. I made a great mistake when I married in not

asking him to settle a definite sum on his daughter. It would have been

so much saved from the wreck.”

“Did aunt want him to come and live here?”

“Yes, women are always unreasonable. She would have had me support the

old man in idleness, but I am not one of that kind. Every tub should

stand on its own bottom.”

“I say so, too, uncle. Do you know whether this boy, Carl Crawford, has

any father or mother?”

“From a word Jennings let fall I infer that he has relatives, but is not

on good terms with them. I have been a little afraid he might stand in

your light.”

“How so, uncle?”

“Should there be any good opening for one of your age, I am afraid he

would get it rather than you.”

“I didn’t think of that,” said Leonard, jealously.

“Living as he does with Mr. Jennings, he will naturally try to

ingratiate himself with him, and stand first in his esteem.”

“That is true. Is Mr. Jennings a rich man, do you think?”

“Yes, I think he is. The factory and stock are worth considerable money,

but I know he has other investments also. As one item he has over a

thousand dollars in the Carterville Savings Bank. He has been very

prudent, has met with no losses, and has put aside a great share of his

profits every year.”

“I wonder he don’t marry.”

“Marriage doesn’t seem to be in his thoughts. Hannah makes him so

comfortable that he will probably remain a bachelor to the end of his

days.”

“Perhaps he will leave his money to her.”

“He is likely to live as long as she.”

“She is a good deal longer than he,” said Leonard, with a laugh.

The bookkeeper condescended to smile at this joke, though it was not

very brilliant.

“Before this boy Carl came,” he resumed thoughtfully, “I hoped he might

take a fancy to you. He must die some time, and, having no near blood

relative, I thought he might select as heir some boy like yourself, who

might grow into his favor and get on his blind side.”

“Is it too late now?” asked Leonard, eagerly.

“Perhaps not, but the appearance of this new boy on the scene makes your

chance a good deal smaller.”

“I wish we could get rid of him,” said Leonard, frowning.

“The only way is to injure him in the estimation of Mr. Jennings.”

“I think I know of a way.”

“Mention it.”

“Here is an advertisement of a lottery,” said Leonard, whose plans, in

view of what his uncle had said, had experienced a change.

“Well?”

“I will write to the manager in Carl’s name, inquiring about tickets,

and, of course, he will answer to him, to the care of Mr. Jennings. This

will lead to the suspicion that Carl is interested in such matters.”

“It is a good idea. It will open the way to a loss of confidence on the

part of Mr. Jennings.”

“I will sit down at your desk and write at once.”

Three days later Mr. Jennings handed a letter to Carl after they reached

home in the evening.

“A letter for you to my care,” he explained.

Carl opened it in surprise, and read as follows:

“Office Of Gift Enterprise.

“Mr. Carl Crawford:--Your letter of inquiry is received. In reply

we would say that we will send you six tickets for five dollars. By

disposing of them among your friends at one dollar each, you will save

the cost of your own. You had better remit at once.

“Yours respectfully, Pitkins & Gamp,

“Agents.”

Carl looked the picture of astonishment when he read this letter.

Driven from Home; Or, Carl Crawford's Experience · 第 19 / 40 章