Herbert Carter's Legacy; Or, the Inventor's Son

CHAPTER VII

A WELCOME DISCOVERY

Mr. Spencer entered the house so lately vacated by the old man who had occupied it for forty years.

“The trunk is in your uncle’s room,” said the lawyer, “or ought to be. I suppose it has not been moved.”

The two entered the chamber. It was a small, poorly furnished apartment, covered with a carpet which, cheap in the first place, was so worn with use that the bare floor showed in spots.

“Your uncle was not very luxurious in his taste,” said Mr. Spencer. “There are plenty of day laborers in town who have as good rooms as this.”

“I suppose he liked laying up money better than spending it,” said Herbert.

“You are right there. This must be the trunk.”

It was a small, black hair trunk, studded with brass nails. Mr. Spencer took a bunch of keys from his pocket and unlocked it. Lifting the cover he exposed to view a collection of woolen clothes-coats, vests, and pants.

“This is your legacy, Herbert,” said the lawyer. “I am afraid you won’t find it very valuable. What is this?”

He drew out, and held up to view, a blue cloak of ample proportions.

“Will you try it on?” he said, smiling.

Herbert threw it over his shoulders, and looked at himself in a small seven-by-nine looking-glass which was suspended over the washstand. It came down nearly to his feet.

“I should hardly dare to wear this without alteration,” he said; “but there is a good deal of good cloth in it. Mother can cut a coat and vest out of it for me.”

“Here is a blue coat with brass buttons. I remember your uncle used to wear it to church twenty years ago. Of late years he has not attended, and has had no occasion to wear it. Here is a pair of pantaloons; but they are pretty well worn.”

So they went through the list, finding little of value. The last article was a vest.

“It seems heavy,” said Herbert.

The lawyer took it from him and examined it.

“There seems to be an inside pocket,” he said. “There must be something in it.”

The pocket was confined by a button; Mr. Spencer thrust his fingers inside, and drew out something loosely enveloped in brown paper.

“What have we here?” he said, in a tone of curiosity.

The secret was speedily solved. When the paper was opened, it was found to contain five gold eagles, and two dollars in silver coins.

Herbert’s eyes glistened with delight as he viewed the treasure.

“Fifty-two dollars!” he exclaimed. “And it is mine.”

“Undoubtedly. The will expressly says you are to have the trunk, and all it contains.”

“I wonder whether Uncle Herbert remembered this money?”

“We can’t tell as to that, but it doesn’t affect your title to the money. I congratulate you, Herbert.”

“It will do us a great deal of good. Then there are the hundred dollars for mother. Why, we shall be rich.”

“Then you are content with your legacy?” asked Mr. Spencer.

“Oh, yes; it was more than I expected, or mother, either.”

“Yet it is but a mere drop of your uncle’s wealth,” said the lawyer, thoughtfully.

“That may be; but he needn’t have left us anything.”

“I see you look upon it in the best way. You are quite a model heir—very different from most of your relatives—Mrs. Pinkerton, for instance.”

“I supposed she expected more than I did.”

“She appeared to expect the bulk of the property. I am afraid her husband will have a hard time of it for a week to come,” said the lawyer, laughing. “He will have to bear the brunt of her disappointment. Well, there seems no more for us to do here. We have found out the value of your legacy, and may lock the trunk again. If you will lend a hand, we will take it across to my house, so that there may be no delay when the stage calls in the morning.”

“All right, sir.”

James Leech was looking out of the front window, awaiting the return of Mr. Spencer and Herbert with not a little curiosity. At length he spied them.

“Tom!” he exclaimed, “your father and that Carter boy are coming back.”

“Why do you call him that Carter boy? Why don’t you call him Herbert?”

“I am not on intimate terms with him,” said James.

“That is strange, as you both live in the same village.”

“You must remember that there is some difference in our social positions,” said James, haughtily.

“That is something I never think of,” said Tom, candidly. “I am a genuine republican.”

“I am not,” said James. “I should like to live in England, where they have noblemen.”

“Not unless you could be a nobleman yourself, I suppose?”

“No; of course not.”

By this time Mr. Spencer and Herbert were bringing the trunk into the front entry.

“I shouldn’t think a professional gentleman like your father would like to be seen carrying a trunk across the street,” said James.

“Oh, he don’t care for that; nor should I,” said Tom.

Herbert entered the room.

“Well, Herbert, what luck?” asked Tom.

“Better than I expected,” said Herbert, gayly. “What do you say to that?” and he displayed the gold and silver.

“How much is it?” asked James, his vanity melting under the influence of curiosity.

“Fifty-two dollars.”

“Capital!” said Tom.

“It isn’t much,” said James, in a tone of depreciation.

“I’ll bet Herbert is richer than you, James,” said Tom, in a lively manner. “Can you show as much money as that?”

“I shall be a rich man some day,” said James, with an air of importance.

“Your father may fail.”

“The moon may be made of green cheese,” retorted James, loftily. “How about the clothes? Are you going to show them?”

“I think not,” said Herbert.

“A parcel of rags, I suppose,” said James, with a sneer.

“Not quite so bad as that,” responded Herbert, good-naturedly. “Still, I think I shall hardly venture to wear any of them without alteration.”

“I wouldn’t wear second-hand clothes,” remarked James Leech, in his usual amiable tone.

“Perhaps you would if you were poor,” said Herbert, quietly.

“But I am not poor.”

“Fortunately for you.”

“Then you won’t show the clothes? I suppose they look as if they were made in the year one.”

“For our forefather Adam?” suggested Tom, laughing. “I am inclined to think the old gentleman in question hadn’t clothes enough to fill a trunk as large as that.”

“Probably not,” said Herbert; “he had no uncle, you know, to leave any to him.”

“What are you going to do with your money, Carter?” asked James, whose curiosity got the better of his dignity occasionally.

“I haven’t made up my mind yet. I think I shall find plenty of uses for it.”

“What would you do with it if you had it, James?” asked Tom.

“I can have more if I want to. I have only to ask father.”

“Then you’re better off than I. Say, father, will you give me fifty-two dollars?”

“When you are twenty-one I may do it.”

“You see,” said Tom. “But you haven’t answered my question. What would you do with the money if you had it?”

“I think I would buy a new rowboat; there’s a pond near our house.”

“When you get it send for me, and I’ll help you row.”

“Very well,” said James; but he did not answer very positively. In fact, he was by no means sure that his father would comply with his request for money, although it suited him to make this representation to his companions.

Herbert retired early. It had been a fatiguing day for him, and it would be necessary to rise in good season the next day, as the coach left Randolph for Wrayburn at an early hour.

CHAPTER VIII

HERBERT’S RETURN

Mrs. Carter awaited Herbert’s return with interest. She felt lonely without him, for he had never before been away from home to stay overnight. But there was a feeling of anticipation besides. Her hopes of a legacy were not very strong, but of course there was a possibility of her uncle’s having remembered them in his will.

“Even if it is only five dollars, it will be welcome,” she thought. “Where people are so poor as we are, every little helps.”

She sat at her sewing when the stage stopped before the door.

“I’m glad he rode home,” thought the widow; “the walk both ways would have been too fatiguing.”

“But why does not Herbert come in at once?”

He had gone behind the coach, and the driver was helping him take down a trunk.

“Where did he get it?” thought his mother, in surprise.

“I guess you can get it into the house yourself,” she heard the driver say.

“Yes, I’ll manage it; you needn’t wait,” said Herbert.

The driver cracked his whip, and the lumbering old coach drove on.

“Oh, there you are, mother,” said Herbert, looking toward the house for the first time. “I’ll be with you in a minute.”

And he began to draw the trunk in through the front gate.

“Where did you get that trunk, Herbert?” asked Mrs. Carter.

“Oh, it’s my legacy,” said Herbert, laughing. “Here it is,” and he lifted it up, and laid it down in the front entry.

“What is inside?” asked his mother, with natural curiosity.

“It isn’t full of gold and silver, mother, so don’t raise your expectations too high. It contains some clothes of Uncle Herbert, out of which you can get some for me.”

“I am glad of that, for you need some new clothes. Well, we were not forgotten, after all.”

“You don’t seem disappointed, mother.”

“I might have wished for a little money besides, Herbert; but beggars cannot be choosers.”

“But sometimes they get what they wish for. Uncle Herbert left you a legacy of a hundred dollars.”

“A hundred dollars!” said Mrs. Carter, brightly. “Why, that will be quite a help for us. Was it left to me?”

“Yes, to you.”

“It was kind in your uncle. My legacy is more than yours, Herbert.”

“I don’t know about that, mother; look here!”

And Herbert displayed his gold and silver.

“Here are fifty-two dollars that I found in the pocket of a vest. It belongs to me, for the will says expressly that I am to have the trunk and all it contains.”

“I am really glad,” said his mother, joyfully. “We are more fortunate than I expected. Sit down and tell me all about it. Who got the bulk of the property?”

“None of the relations. It is bequeathed to the town of Randolph, to found a high school, to be called the Carter School.”

“Well, it will do good, at any rate. Didn’t the other relations receive legacies?”

“Small ones; but they didn’t seem very well satisfied. Do you know Mr. and Mrs. Josiah Pinkerton?”

“Slightly,” said Mrs. Carter, smiling. “Were they there?”

“She was, and he was in attendance upon her. She didn’t give him a chance to say much.”

“I have always heard she kept him in good subjection. How did they fare?”

“They and their two children received a hundred dollars apiece. She was mad and wanted to break the will. Then there was a Mr. Granger, a farmer, who got the same; and Cornelius Dixon, also.”

“I hope Aunt Nancy fared better. She is the best of them all.”

“She is allowed to occupy the house, rent free, and is to have an income of two hundred dollars a year as long as she lives.”

“I am really glad to hear it,” said Mrs. Carter, with emphasis. “She deserves all her good fortune. One of the best things her brother did in life was to allow her such an income as to keep her independent of public charity; I feared he would forget to provide for her.”

“She seems a good old lady. She asked me to invite you to call and see her.”

“I should like to do so, and if I ever have occasion to go to Randolph I will certainly do so.”

“Now, mother,” said Herbert, when he had answered his mother’s questions, “I want you to take this money, and use it as you need.”

“But, Herbert, it was left to you.”

“And if you use it I shall receive my share of it. By the way, your money will be sent you next week; so Mr. Spencer assured me.”

“Who is Mr. Spencer?”

“The lawyer who read the will. He was very kind to me. It was at his house I spent the night. I got acquainted with his son, Tom, a fine fellow. I met also James Leech, whom I cannot compliment so highly. He was visiting Tom.”

“I never thought him an agreeable boy.”

“Nor anyone else, I expect. He appears to think he can put on airs, and expects everybody to bow down to him because his father is a rich man.”

“I hope you didn’t quarrel with him,” said Mrs. Carter, apprehensively.

“Oh, no, he sneered at me, as usual, and drew a ridiculous picture of my appearance with my uncle’s clothes on.”

“Do you mind what he says?” asked his mother, anxiously.

“A little,” said Herbert, “but I can stand it if he doesn’t go too far.”

“He has an unhappy nature. I think his father must have been somewhat like him when he was young.”

“So do I. He feels just as important as James. I like to see him strut round, as if he owned the whole village.”

“He does own more of it than anyone else. Among the rest, he owns our house, in part.”

“You mean he has a mortgage on it, mother?”

“Yes.”

“Seven hundred and fifty dollars, isn’t it?”

“Yes, Herbert.”

“How much do you consider the whole worth?” asked our hero, thoughtfully.

“It cost your father fifteen hundred dollars. That is, the land—nearly an acre—cost three hundred dollars, and the house, to build, twelve hundred.”

“Would it sell for that?”

“Not if a sale were forced; but, if anybody wanted it, fifteen hundred dollars would not be too much to pay.”

“I wish the mortgage were paid.”

“So do I, my son; but we are not very likely to be able to pay it.”

“How fine it would have been if Uncle Herbert had left us, say eight hundred dollars, so that we might have paid it up, and still have had a little left for immediate use!”

“Yes, Herbert, it would have made us feel quite independent, but it isn’t best speculating on what might have been. It is better to do the best we can with what we really have.”

“I suppose you are right, mother; but it is pleasant to dream of good fortune, even if we know it is out of reach.”

“The trouble is, our dreaming often interferes with our working.”

“It shan’t interfere with mine. I’ve got something to work for.”

“Do you refer to anything in particular, Herbert?”

“Yes. I want to pay off this mortgage,” answered Herbert, manfully.

“Some day, when you are a man, you may be able; but the time is too far off to spend much time upon it at present.”

Herbert had moved to the window as the conversation went on. Suddenly he called to his mother: “Look, mother, there is Squire Leech riding up. He is pointing out our house to the man that is riding with him. Do you know who it is?”

“Yes, it is Mr. Banks, his new superintendent. He has just come into the village.”

“I wonder why he pointed at our house?”

“Probably he was telling him that he had a mortgage on it.”

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