TWO BOY FRIENDS.
"Going to Europe, Frank!" repeated his friend, Ben Cameron, in
unbounded astonishment. "I can hardly believe it."
"I can hardly believe it myself; but it's true."
"How did it come about?"
"Colonel Sharpley, Mr. Craven's friend, is going, and offered to take
me."
"Didn't Mr. Craven object?"
"No; why should he? He thought it was a good plan."
"And your mother?"
"She was a little afraid at first that something might happen to me;
but, as Colonel Sharpley and Mr. Craven were in favor of it, she
yielded."
"Well, Frank, all I can say is, that I wish I were in your shoes."
"I wish you were going with me, Ben. Wouldn't it be jolly?"
"Unfortunately, Frank, I wasn't born with a silver spoon in my mouth,
like you. You are the son of rich parents, while my father is a poor
carpenter, working by the day."
"I like you as much as if you were worth half a million, Ben."
"I know you do, Frank; but that doesn't give me the half-million. I
must postpone going to Europe till I have earned money enough with my
own hands."
"Don't be too sure of that, Ben."
"What do you mean, Frank?"
"I mean this, that when I am twenty-one I come into possession of about
forty thousand dollars. Now, the interest on that is two thousand four
hundred. I'll invite you to go abroad with me, and spend a year there.
If the interest isn't enough to pay our expenses, I will take a few
hundred dollars of the principal."
"That's a generous offer, Frank," said Ben; "but you don't consider
that at that time I shall be a journeyman carpenter, very likely, while
you will be a young gentleman, just graduated from college. You may not
want such company then."
"My dear Ben," said Frank, laying his hand affectionately on the
other's shoulder, "if you think I'm a snob or likely to become one, say
so at once; but I hope you think better of me than to believe that I
will ever be ashamed of my dearest friend, even if he is a journeyman
carpenter. I should despise myself if I thought such a thing possible."
"Then I won't think so, Frank."
"That's right, Ben. We'll be friends for life, or, if we are not, it
shall be your fault, not mine. But there's one favor I am going to ask
of you."
"What is it?"
"That while I am gone you will call round often and see mother. She
will miss me a great deal, for I have always been with her, and it
will be a pleasure to her to see you, whom she knows to be my dearest
friend, and talk with you about me. Will you go?"
"Certainly I will, Frank, if you think she would like to have me."
"I know she would. You see, Ben, though Mr. Craven and my mother get
along well enough, I am sure she doesn't love him. He may be a fair
sort of man, and I am bound to say that I have no fault to find with
him, but I don't think she finds a great deal of pleasure in his
society. Of course, Ben, you won't repeat this?"
"Certainly not."
"And you will call often?"
"Yes, Frank."
"I will tell mother so. Then I shall leave home with a light heart.
Just think of it, Ben--it's now the sixth of the month, and on the
nineteenth I sail. I wish it were to-morrow."
"It will soon be here, Frank."
"Yes, I know it. I am afraid I can't fix my mind on my studies much for
the next week or so. I shall be thinking of Europe all the time."
Meanwhile, Mr. Craven and Colonel Sharpley, in the office of the
former, were discussing the same subject.
"So we have succeeded, Craven," said Sharpley, taking out a cigar and
beginning to smoke.
"Yes, you managed it quite cleverly."
"Neither Mrs. Craven nor the boy will suspect that you are particularly
interested in getting him out of the country."
"No," said Craven, complacently; "I believe I scored a point in my
favor with the boy by favoring the project. Had I opposed it, his
mother would not have consented, and he knows it."
"Yes, that is well. It will avert suspicion hereafter. Now there is an
important point to be considered. What funds are you going to place in
my hands to start with?"
"How much shall you need?"
"Well, you must supply me with money at once to pay for tickets--say
two hundred and fifty dollars, and a bill of exchange for a thousand
dollars, to begin with. More can be sent afterward."
"I hope you won't be too extravagant, Sharpley," said Mr. Craven, a
little uneasily.
"Extravagant! Why, zounds, man, two persons can't travel for nothing.
Besides, the money doesn't come out of your purse; it comes out of the
boy's fortune."
"If I draw too much, his mother, who is his guardian, will be startled."
"Then draw part from her funds. You have the control of those."
"I don't know as I have a right to."
"Pooh, man, get over your ridiculous scruples. I know your real reason.
You look upon her money as yours, and don't like to part with any
of it. But just consider, if things turn out as we expect, you will
shortly get possession of the boy's forty thousand dollars, and can
then pay yourself. Don't you see it?"
"Perhaps the boy may return in safety," suggested Craven. "In that case
our plans are all dished."
"Don't be afraid of that," said Sharpley, with wicked significance. "I
will take care of that."
"It shall be as you say, then," said Craven. "You shall have two
hundred dollars for the purchase of tickets and a bill of exchange for
a thousand."
"You may as well say three hundred, Craven, as there will be some extra
preliminary expenses, and you had better give me the money now, as I am
going up to the city this morning to procure tickets."
"Very well, three hundred let it be."
"And there's another point to be settled, a very important one, and we
may as well settle it now."
"What is it?"
"How much am I to receive in case our plans work well?"
"How much?" repeated Craven, hesitatingly.
"Yes, how much?"
"Well, say two thousand dollars."
"Two thousand devils!" exclaimed Sharpley, indignantly. "Why, Craven,
you must take me for a fool."
Mr. Craven hastily disclaimed this imputation.
"You expect me to do your dirty work for any such paltry sum as that!
No! I don't sell myself so cheap."
"Two thousand dollars is a good deal of money."
"Not for such services as that, especially as it leaves you nineteen
times as much. Craven, it won't do!"
"Say five thousand dollars, then!" said Craven, reluctantly.
"That's a little more like the figure, but it isn't enough."
"What will satisfy you, then?"
"Ten thousand."
"Ten thousand!" repeated Craven, in dismay.
"Yes, ten thousand," said Sharpley, firmly. "Not a cent less."
Mr. Craven expostulated, but his expostulations were all in vain. His
companion felt that he had him in his power, and was not disposed to
abate his demands. Finally the agreement was made.
"Shall it be in writing, Craven?" asked Sharpley, jocosely.
"No, no."
"I didn't know but you might want to bind me. When does the train leave
for New York?"
"In an hour."
"Then I'll trouble you to look up three hundred dollars for me, and
I'll take it."
By the ten o'clock train Colonel Sharpley was a passenger. Mr. Craven
saw him off, and then returned thoughtfully to his office.
"It's a bold plan," thus he soliloquized; "but I think it will succeed.
If it does, I shall no longer be dependent upon the will or caprice of
my wife. I shall be my own master, and possessed of an abundant fortune.
"If only Sharpley and the boy could die together, it would be a great
relief. While that man lives I shall not feel wholly safe. However,
one at a time. Let the boy be got out of the way, and I will see what
can be done for the other. The cards are in my favor, and if I play a
crafty game, I shall win in the end."