ON THE WAY HOME.
AT San Francisco Mark stopped over a day to buy some clothing for
Philip.
"Did Mr. Sprague select your clothes, Philip?" asked Mark. "If so, I
can't compliment him on his taste."
"They are some old clothes of Oscar's," answered Philip. "They are the
best I could get."
"We'll see if San Francisco can't furnish you with something better."
At a clothing store on Market Street, Mark bought a complete outfit for
Philip. The latter was much pleased when he saw his transformation in a
pier glass in the store.
"Now I shall have nothing to remind me of Mr. Sprague," he said. "Do you
want me to take the old clothes with me?"
"No; we will leave them here."
They stopped at the Russ House. Just after supper Mark met an old
acquaintance, the bronzed miner whom he had seen in Omaha. The latter
walked up eagerly and grasped Mark's hand.
"It does me good to see you again, young pard," he said. "And is this
the kid?"
"Yes."
"Well, upon my word he looks like a little gentleman."
"He has improved in appearance since I made his acquaintance in
Gulchville," said Mark with a smile. "I have just bought him a new
outfit."
"So, so! Well, fine feathers make fine birds. Well, my boy, does Mark
make you call him father?"
Philip laughed heartily at the idea.
"Why, he's only a boy!" he rejoined.
"Philip," said Mark with a warning finger, "you must treat me with
proper respect."
"Shall I call you father?"
"No; perhaps it will be more suitable to call me brother Mark. Did you
stop over in Nevada, Mr. Dempsey?"
"Yes; I went to the mine."
"What did you learn?"
"That a New York syndicate is trying to purchase the mine, and this has
carried up the price of stock to two hundred and fifty dollars."
Mark's eyes sparkled.
"Why that would make mother's share worth fifty thousand dollars," he
said.
"I advise you to take measures to secure your mother's rights as soon
as you reach home. There is danger in delay."
"I certainly will follow your advice, Mr. Dempsey. Shall you hold on to
your shares?"
"No. I think I will sell out. I have an offer from a man in Virginia
City which I think I shall accept. The stock may go higher, but again it
may go lower. My shares will bring twenty-five thousand dollars, and
that will make a man like me rich."
"I wish I had control of mother's stock now," said Mark. "I could
realize a price which would make her comfortable for life."
The sudden rise in the value of the Golden Hope shares was already known
in New York. Mr. Talbot on receiving the intelligence called on his
brokers, Crane & Lawton.
"Would you advise me to sell now, Mr. Crane?" he asked.
"Wait a week, Mr. Talbot, and you may realize a few more points. Then
you had better unload."
"I will be guided by your advice. I am sure it is for the best."
There was still, however, a feeling of uneasiness in the mind of Mr.
Talbot, who knew very well that Mrs. Mason was the rightful owner of
half the stock which he controlled. He decided to call on his sister
in-law once more, and urge her to sign a paper releasing him from
further liability as executor of her father's estate.
"I wonder whether Mark has got back," he said to himself. "If not,
probably Ellen is very short of money. I will offer, if necessary, five
hundred dollars for her signature. I don't think she can resist that."
Mrs. Mason had just finished washing her breakfast dishes when there was
a knock at the door. Opening it, she saw the familiar face of Tom
Trotter, dressed in the uniform of a Western Uniform telegraph boy.
"What, Tom!" she exclaimed in surprise. "Have you changed your
business?"
"Yes, Mrs. Mason," answered Tom complacently. "I've give up blackin'
boots, and now I'm a messenger boy like Mark."
"You look very nice in your uniform, Tom. There's another improvement I
see."
"What is that, Mrs. Mason?"
"Your hands and face are both clean."
"I've got to keep clean now," said Tom soberly. "It seems kind of
strange, but I guess I'll get used do it. When I look in the glass I
don't hardly know myself."
"Don't you like it better?"
"Well, I guess I shall when I get used to it. But I forgot, I've got a
message for you," and Tom drew out an official envelope.
"It must be from Mark," said Mrs. Mason in excitement, and she tore open
the dispatch and read as follows:
* * * * *
OMAHA, Sept. 17.
Shall be home on Friday. MARK.
* * * * *
"Mark will be home on Friday, Tom!" said the happy mother. "How glad I
shall be!"
"Hurray!" exclaimed Tom. "That's good news."
"Come round and take dinner with us Sunday, Tom. We'll have a little
feast in honor of Mark's return."
"I'll see, Mrs. Mason. I was engaged to take dinner with Jay Gould, but
I'll telegraph him I can't come."
"I am afraid we can't give you as good a dinner as Jay Gould."
"You'll have Mark here and that's better than the best dinner Jay can
give me. Shall I wear my swallow tail?"
"No; your uniform will do."
Tom Trotter had hardly gone out when there was another knock at the
door. On opening it Mrs. Mason was somewhat surprised to see her
brother-in-law. Solon Talbot's manner was very gracious and
patronizing.
"I hope you are well, Ellen," he said extending his hand.
"Thank you, I am quite well," replied Mrs. Mason.
"And Edith too?"
Mr. Talbot seldom took any notice of Edith, but he had an object to gain
now.
"Yes, Edith is well. She has just gone to school."
"I think I heard that Mark was absent from the city."
"Yes, he is away."
"He has been gone some time?"
"Yes."
"I should think you would miss him."
"So I do. I miss him constantly."
"You must find it hard to get along without him--financially I mean."
"He left some money behind. I am not in want."
"Ellen, I am really sorry to see you living in such a poor way. These
humble rooms are not suitable for you."
Mrs. Mason was rather astonished to hear these words from her
brother-in-law. She did not understand that he was preparing the way for
another offer.
"It would certainly be pleasant for me to live better," she said. "I
hope to when Mark gets older."
"You had better not count too much upon that. An office boy's wages
seldom amount to much. How much does he earn?"
"He averaged about five dollars a week as a telegraph messenger."
"So I supposed. He may get a dollar or two more in a year or two--but
what is that?"
"It isn't much," Mrs. Mason admitted.
"I was talking the matter over with Mary the other day, and it is
largely on her account that I came here this morning to make a proposal
to you."
"Now it's coming!" thought Mrs. Mason. "Well?" she said.
"And I have made up my mind to offer you five hundred dollars."
"That is very kind," said Mrs. Mason demurely.
"On condition that you sign this paper releasing me from all
responsibility as executor of your father's estate."
"This seems important to you, Solon," said Mrs. Mason keenly.
"It is a matter of form. I shall present it at the probate court. But it
gives me an excuse for offering you a generous gift."
"I will think it over, Solon."
"Think it over? What thinking over do you need? I am not sure that I can
give you time for that, as the gift is entirely voluntary on my part. I
have brought the money with me, and in five minutes you can be a
comparatively rich woman."
"I have just had a telegram from Mark saying that he will be home on
Friday. I will wait till he comes. If you will come round Saturday----"
"I can't promise," said Talbot, deeply disappointed. "You stand very
much in your own light."
"I can make no other answer, Solon."
"Confound that young meddler, Mark!" muttered Talbot as he left the
house. "But for him I should have no difficulty in obtaining his
mother's signature."