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

“I am glad to see you, Herbert,” said the young man, smiling as he extended his hand. He was secretly pleased with Herbert’s open and manly face. “Did the landlord say why I might need your assistance?”

“He said your eyes were affected.”

“Yes, they broke down a month since. I am a student of Yale College, in the junior class. I suppose I tasked my eyes too severely. At any rate, they gave out, and I am forbidden to use them at all.”

“That must be a great loss to you,” said Herbert, with sympathy.

“It is. I am very fond of reading and study, and the time passes very heavily in the absence of my usual employment.”

“I don’t know what I should do if I could not use my eyes.”

“You would find it a great hardship. Now I must tell you why I came here. The doctor told me I should be better off in the country than in the city. He said that the sight of the green grass would be good for me, and the fresh air, in improving my general health, would help my eyes also. I hadn’t much choice as to a place, but some one mentioned Wrayburn, and so I came here. But I soon found that, unless I got some pleasant company and some one who could read to me, I should die of weariness. That brings me to my object in asking you to call upon me. How is your time occupied?”

“I have taken an acre of land to cultivate on shares,” answered Herbert. “It was because I could find nothing else to do, and must do something.”

“Does that keep you pretty busy?”

“It is planting time now, but I could get along with working there half a day.”

“And could you place yourself at my disposal the other half?”

“I should be glad to do it,” answered Herbert.

“Suppose, then, that you work in the field in the forenoon, and give me every afternoon.”

“All right,” said Herbert, promptly.

“Now comes another question. What pay would you expect for giving me so much of your time?”

“I shouldn’t know what to charge, Mr. Cameron. I leave that matter entirely with you.”

“Would you be satisfied with five dollars a week?”

Five dollars a week! Herbert could hardly believe his ears. Why, he would have been well paid if this had been given him for the whole of his time, but for half it seemed munificent.

“I am afraid I can’t earn that much,” he answered. “I would be willing to take less.”

“You don’t know how hard I shall make you work,” said the young man, smiling. “I insist upon paying you five dollars a week.”

“I don’t seriously object,” said Herbert, smiling; “but if you think, after the first week, that it is too much, you can pay me less.”

“I see that we are not likely to quarrel on the subject of salary then. When can you begin?”

“This afternoon, if you wish.”

“I do wish it, otherwise the afternoon would pass very slowly to me.”

“Then, I will be here at one o’clock.”

“Half past one will do.”

“I will be on hand. Till then I will bid you good morning, as I shall be wanted at home.”

“Very well, Herbert.”

Herbert left the room and hurried home, for it was nearly twelve. On the way he stopped at the post office, and found a letter addressed to his mother. He did not recognize the handwriting, nor, such was his hurry, did he notice where it was postmarked. He had no watch, but thought it must be close upon twelve o’clock. So he thrust the letter into his pocket, and continued his way homeward on a half run. He was in time, for, just as he reached the front gate from one direction, the squire reached it from the other.

“Good morning,” said the squire, a little stiffly. “Is your mother at home?”

“I presume she is. Won’t you come in?”

“I wonder if they’ve got the money ready,” thought the squire, as he followed Herbert into the modest sitting room.

CHAPTER XVII

WHAT THE LETTER CONTAINED

Leaving the squire in the sitting room, Herbert went in quest of his mother.

“Squire Leech is here,” he said.

“What shall we say to him?” asked his mother, soberly.

“Wait a minute and I will tell you,” said Herbert, his face brightening.

“I’ve had a stroke of luck, mother. I’ve been engaged to work afternoons, at five dollars a week.”

“Who has engaged to pay you such high wages?” asked Mrs. Carter, astonished.

“A young man staying at the hotel, whose eyes are weak. I am to read to him, and do whatever else he requires. I got the chance through the landlord.”

“You are certainly fortunate,” said his mother, gratified.

“Now, what I am going to propose to the squire is to wait two or three weeks for the balance of the interest till I can make it up out of my wages.”

“If he weren’t so anxious to get possession of the place he would; but I am afraid on that account he will refuse But we ought to go in.”

Mrs. Carter removed the apron which she had worn about her work, and entered the sitting room, followed by Herbert.

“I hope you will excuse my keeping you waiting, Squire Leech,” she said.

“Certainly, ma’am, though I am rather in a hurry.”

“I suppose you have come about the interest?”

“It is due to-day, as, of course, you know.”

“Yes.”

“I suppose you have it ready,” said the squire, eyeing her shrewdly.

“I can pay you fifteen dollars of it,” said the widow, nervously.

Squire Leech felt exultant, but he only frowned.

“It amounts to twenty-two dollars and a half,” he said, sharply.

“I know that, and I shall be able to pay the remainder if you will be kind enough to wait two or three weeks.”

Not knowing anything of Herbert’s good fortune, Squire Leech utterly disbelieved this. He knew no source from which the widow could get the money.

“It is easy enough to make promises,” he said, with a sneer, “but that doesn’t satisfy me. I want my money.”

Now Herbert felt it time for him to take part in the conversation.

“My mother can keep her promise,” he said.

“Can she? Perhaps you will explain where you expect to get the money.”

“From my wages,” answered Herbert, proudly.

“I wasn’t aware that you received any,” sneered the squire.

“I have just made an engagement to work for five dollars a week,” said our hero, enjoying the squire’s look of surprise.

“Indeed! Who pays you that?”

“A gentleman boarding at the hotel has engaged me to read to him as his eyes are weak.”

“A fool and his money are soon parted,” said Squire Leech. “You may retain the position a week.”

“I hope to keep it. I feel sure that I shall.”

“I don’t,” said the squire, emphatically.

“Then are you willing to wait—say two weeks—for the rest of the interest?”

“No, I am not, and you ought to have known I shouldn’t be. There is a way of arranging the whole matter.”

“By selling the place, you mean?”

“Yes; I mean just that. It is folly for you to think of keeping the property with such a heavy mortgage upon it on which you are unable to pay the interest. I have offered you a fair price for it.”

“You offered four hundred dollars less than it cost.”

“That is nonsense! It never cost fifteen hundred dollars.”

“I have my husband’s word for it,” said the widow.

“Then, he made some mistake, you may be sure.”

“I am sure father was right,” said Herbert. “Besides, we have his bills to prove it.”

“That’s neither here nor there,” said Squire Leech, impatiently. “Even if it cost ten thousand dollars, it’s only worth eleven hundred now; that is to say, three hundred and fifty dollars over and above the mortgage.”

“You are hard upon me, Squire Leech,” said Mrs. Carter, despondently.

“You are a woman, ma’am, and women never understand business. I make allowance for you; but your son ought to know better than to encourage you.”

“I want my mother to be treated fairly and justly.”

“Do you mean to imply that I would treat her otherwise, young man?” demanded the squire, angrily. “I advise you not to make an enemy of me.”

Herbert looked sober. The squire might not be right but certainly he had the power to carry his point and that power he was certain to exercise.

“Will you give my mother and myself a little time to consult what is to be done?” he asked.

“Yes,” said the squire, feeling that he had carried his point. “I might refuse, of course, but I wish to be easy with you and therefore I will give you till half past twelve. I will be back at that time.”

He took his cane and left the house.

His reference to the post office reminded Herbert of the letter he had in his pocket for his mother.

“Here’s a letter for you, mother,” he said.

“A letter! Who can it be from?”

“It’s postmarked at Randolph,” said Herbert.

“Perhaps it’s from Aunt Nancy,” suggested the widow. “I don’t know anyone else in Randolph that would be likely to write to me.”

She opened the envelope and uttered a cry of surprise as two bills dropped out and fluttered to the floor.

Herbert picked them up eagerly and cried: “Why, mother, they are ten-dollar bills. Twenty dollars in all!”

“Twenty dollars!” repeated Mrs. Carter, in amazement.

“Hurrah! now we can pay the interest!” exclaimed Herbert. “Won’t the squire be mad!” and he laughed joyously. “Read the letter aloud, mother.”

Mrs. Carter read as follows:

“MY DEAR NIECE: I have thought of you often, and wish we were not so far distant from each other. I should enjoy seeing you and that good son of yours often. I am afraid you have had a hard time getting along. My wants are few and I have more than enough to supply them. I inclose twenty dollars in this letter. I shall not need them, for an old woman like me can live on very little.

“I wish you would write to me sometimes or ask Herbert to. I feel lonely and it would be a great favor to me. If it were not so far, I would ask you and Herbert to come over and spend a day or two with me. Perhaps you can manage to do it some time. Only don’t delay too long, for I am getting old and can’t expect to live much longer,

“Your affectionate aunt,

“NANCY CARTER.”

“How good of Aunt Nancy! If her brother had possessed her kind heart, we should be better off to-day.”

“It came just in the nick of time, mother. How lucky!”

“Say, rather, how providential, my son. We owe to the kindness of God. He will not see us want.”

“Of course you are right, mother; but the squire won’t regard it in the same light. He will be terribly disappointed, for he thinks he has got us in his power.”

“I am thankful that this is to be our home for six months more.”

“Longer than that, mother. I am earning something now, and I will save up money to pay our next interest.”

“Squire Leech is coming back,” said Mrs. Carter.

“See how briskly he walks!” said Herbert. “I don’t think he’ll be so cheerful when he leaves the house.”

“I don’t think we ought to exult, Herbert.”

“I can’t help it, mother and I’m not ashamed of it, either. You are carrying benevolence too far.”

Here the squire’s knock was heard, and Herbert went to admit him.

CHAPTER XVIII

HOW THE SQUIRE WAS CIRCUMVENTED

The squire was in very good spirits. All the way back from the post office he had been congratulating himself on the elegant bargain he was about to make. The widow and her son had been obliged to yield. Squire Leech thought more of Herbert than of his mother, for he was convinced that but for him he could have talked over Mrs. Carter six months before.

“Serves the boy right,” he said to himself. “It was preposterous in him to oppose my wishes. He might have known I would advise what was best.”

The squire meant what was best for him. He had not given much thought what would be best for Mrs. Carter.

“Some men would take advantage of their situation and reduce their offer,” thought the squire, virtuously, “but I won’t be hard on them. They shall have the three hundred and fifty dollars.”

“Well,” said he cheerfully, as Herbert opened the door, “I believe I have given you the time I agreed upon.”

“Yes, sir,” said Herbert.

“Please walk in.”

The squire expected to find him sober and depressed, but in spite of himself Herbert could not help looking in good spirits. This puzzled the squire a little, but he said to himself: “Probably they have decided that my offer wasn’t so bad a one, after all.”

“Well,” said the village magnate, “well, Mrs. Carter, now that you have had time to think over my proposal, you have probably seen its advantages.”

“I should not be willing to give up the house, sir. My husband built it, and—”

The squire’s brow darkened. What a perverse, obstinate woman she was!

“That ain’t the question,” he exclaimed, pounding his cane on the floor. “There are many things we don’t want to do that we’ve got to do. You stand in your own light, ma’am. I have my rights.”

“We don’t deny that, sir,” said Herbert, who enjoyed the squire’s excitement, knowing how it must end.

“I am glad to hear it,” said the squire; “but it appears to me you think you and your mother are the only persons to be considered in this matter.”

“I think my mother is entitled to some consideration.”

“Haven’t I considered her? Haven’t I offered her a most liberal price for the place?”

“We don’t call it liberal.”

“Then you are unreasonable. Many men in my position would offer less. Indeed, I don’t think I ought to offer more than three hundred dollars.”

“We would thank you, Squire Leech, if we could see any favor in offering three or four hundred dollars less than the house is worth.”

“We have had enough of this nonsense,” said the squire, angrily. “It is not too late to withdraw my offer.”

“You had better withdraw it,” said Herbert, composedly, “for mother and I have decided to refuse it.”

“Refuse it!” gasped the squire. “What do you mean by such outrageous impudence?”

“I don’t see how it can be considered impudence. We are not obliged to accept every offer made us.”

“You are obliged to accept this,” cried Squire Leech, stamping his cane upon the floor again. “You know there is no help for it.”

“How do you make that out, sir?” inquired our hero.

“You can’t pay the interest.”

“I beg your pardon, sir; we are ready to pay.”

“I mean the whole of the interest.”

“So do I.”

“It must be paid at once.”

“It shall be paid at once, Squire Leech. Please make out a receipt.”

Squire Leech was never more astonished in his life. He was not convinced till Herbert produced what he could distinguish as two ten-dollar bills and one five.

“There will be two dollars and a half change,” said Herbert in a business-like manner.

“What did you mean by telling me you could not pay the interest when I was here at twelve o’clock?”

“We could not, then, or thought we could not.”

“Then how can you pay me now?”

“We received some money in a letter this morning. The letter had not been opened when you were here, so we didn’t know we could meet your claims.”

Squire Leech was very angry. He felt that he had been defeated, and that triumph had slipped over to the other side. But he resolved to make one more attempt.

“I have the right to refuse this money,” he said. “It comes too late. It should have been paid at twelve.”

“I beg your pardon. Squire Leech; you yourself gave us time to consult what to do.”

“Because,” said the squire, unguardedly, “I thought you could not pay the interest.”

Herbert could not help smiling.

“We have nothing to do with what you thought.”

The squire frowned and bit his lips with vexation. He tried to think of some way of getting over the difficulty but none presented itself. As he dashed off the signature and took the money, he said, angrily: “The time will come when I will have this place. Your convenient letters won’t always come just in the nick of time.”

“I hope to be prepared for you next time, without having to depend on that.”

Still, the squire lingered. The fact was, that, though very angry, he was anxious to know from whom Mrs. Carter had received this opportune help.

“Who sent you this letter?” he asked.

“I don’t think we need to tell you that,” said Herbert.

“I have no objection to tell,” said Mrs. Carter. “It was my aunt, Nancy Carter, of Randolph, who so kindly remembered us.”

“I wish she’d kept back her letter a day or two,” thought the squire.

“Is she rich?” he asked, abruptly.

“No; she has a very modest income left by her brother; but her wants are few, and she thought we might need help. She has a good heart.”

“Well, ma’am, as my business is over, I will leave you,” said the squire, sulkily. “As for that boy of yours,” pointing his finger at Herbert, “I advise you to teach him better manners. He won’t gain anything by his impertinence. If he had acted differently I would have given him employment, or got my superintendent to do so.”

“I should have been unable to accept it. Squire Leech,” said Herbert. “I have made an engagement already.”

The squire had forgotten this, and it was mortifying to expect that his patronage was of no importance to the boy whom he detested.

“Good morning!” he said abruptly and left the room

“I am afraid, Herbert, you treated the squire disrespectfully,” said Mrs. Carter.

“I don’t think so, mother, unless to oppose his wishes is to be disrespectful.”

“He spoke as if he thought you did.”

“I know that, but he wouldn’t if he hadn’t been unreasonable. But I’ve got to go to the hotel in fifteen minutes. Just give me a bite, for I’m awful hungry.”

So the day which Herbert had so much dreaded in advance was marked by two pieces of good luck.

CHAPTER XIX

HERBERT BECOMES A PROFESSOR

When Herbert reached the hotel he went up at once to Mr. Cameron’s room.

“I believe I am a little late,” he said, apologetically; “but I was detained at home by a matter of business.”

“You are young to have your time occupied by matters of business,” said the young man, smiling.

“Yes, if my father were alive it would not devolve upon me, but my mother generally consults with me.”

“I hope your business was arranged satisfactorily.”

“Yes, but it came near turning out otherwise. I would like to tell you about it.”

“Do so,” said Mr. Cameron, kindly. “I shall be interested in whatever affects you.”

Herbert gave an account of Squire Leech’s attempts to get possession of their cottage.

“But for that letter of Aunt Nancy’s,” he concluded, “we should have been obliged to part with our house.”

“For the paltry sum of twenty-two dollars and a half?”

“It wasn’t paltry to us.”

“No, to be sure. Why didn’t you tell me this morning? I would have lent you the money.”

“You would?” exclaimed Herbert.

“With pleasure.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cameron,” said our hero; “but I shouldn’t have dared to ask such a favor of a stranger.”

“I must tell you that this Squire Leech has probably taken advantage of your ignorance of business. I don’t know exactly how the law is in this State, but I presume that, so far from the squire being authorized to take immediate possession of your place, he would be obliged to give legal notice of sale, on foreclosure of mortgage, by advertisement in some weekly paper. This would allow of sale at auction to the highest bidder.”

“I didn’t know that; I supposed the squire could order us out immediately and take possession.”

“Squire Leech certainly knew better than that, but he evidently wanted to frighten your mother into selling to him at a sacrifice.”

“That was mean,” said Herbert, indignantly, “and he a rich man, too.”

“I quite agree with you,” said Mr. Cameron. “If you have any further difficulty with this grasping capitalist, come to me and I will give you the best advice I can.”

“I will, Mr. Cameron, and thank you for your advice. You have relieved my mind. I will tell mother what you say. What would you like to have me read first?”

“We will put off the reading for a short time. I want to ask you a few more questions about yourself, not out of curiosity, but because I may, if I understand your circumstances, some time have it in my power to serve you.”

“Thank you, sir. I shall be very glad to tell you anything. I was afraid you would not feel interested.”

“You are my private secretary now and that insures my interest. How long since did your father die?”

“A little over a year.”

“What was his business?”

“When he was a young man he was employed in a manufactory near Providence, but the confinement injured his health and he learned the carpenter’s trade.”

“I shouldn’t think there would be much for a carpenter to do in a small village like this.”

“My father managed to make a comfortable living but that was all. At the time he died, he considered that our house was mortgaged for only half its value, but Squire Leech thinks otherwise.”

“Squire Leech wants to get possession of your place. So that was all your father was able to leave you?”

“No, not quite all; there was something else which father seemed to think was worth something, but I am afraid it will never do us any good.”

“What is that?” asked Mr. Cameron.

“He was at work in his leisure for the last two years of his life on an invention.”

“An invention! Of what nature?”

“You know I told you he was employed in a cotton manufactory when a young man. This made him familiar with spinning and weaving. He thought he could make an improvement in some of the machinery used and he worked out his idea in a wooden model.”

“Have you the model?” asked Cameron, with interest.

“Yes, sir, and also a written paper describing the invention. A few days before he died father called me to his bedside and told me that he wanted me some day to show his invention to a manufacturer and get his opinion of it. He said that he hoped some time it would be a source of profit to mother and myself.”

“Have you ever done as he advised?” asked Cameron.

“I have never had opportunity. There is no manufacturing town near here and I cannot afford to travel.”

“I am myself the son of a cotton manufacturer,” said Cameron, “and, though I have never been employed in the business, I have from my boyhood been accustomed to visit my father’s factory. My opinion may be worth something, therefore. If you are willing to show me your father’s model—”

“I shall be very much obliged to you if you will look at it,” said Herbert. “I have been afraid that father exaggerated its value and that it might have defects which would prevent its being adopted anywhere.”

“I will give you my opinion when I have seen it. And now suppose we set to work. Here is a treatise on logic. You may begin and read it very slowly, pausing at the end of every paragraph till I tell you to go on.”

Herbert began to read as he had been requested. For the first two or three times he took very little interest in his subject and thought it very dry. In fact, it was not all he began to re-read the earlier portions that he could comprehend much of it.

“Now,” said Cameron, after he had read half an hour, “I have something else for you to do. You are not only my reader, but I must make you my teacher, too.”

Herbert laughed, saying: “I think you’ll have to get somebody that knows more than I, then; I wouldn’t venture to teach a college student.”

“I mean that you shall hear my lessons. I want you to imagine yourself a college professor and ask me questions on what you have just read.”

“Do you think I can?”

“You may bungle a little at first, but you’ll improve. If you do well, when I get through with you I will try to get you a professor’s chair at some college.”

“I should like that, if professors get well paid.”

“They generally get more than five dollars a week; but that is all that I can afford to pay at present.”

“I’m only an apprentice,” said Herbert smiling, “and am quite satisfied.”

Herbert began to question Cameron on what he had been reading. He did not find it altogether easy, partly from want of practice, partly because the subject was one he knew nothing about. But whenever blunders were made Cameron laughed good-naturedly and the young professor joined in the merriment.

“We’ll take political economy next,” said the student. “You won’t find that so dry as logic.”

Though political economy is generally studied in the junior or senior year at college, its principles, if familiarly illustrated, are not beyond the comprehension of a boy of fifteen. He found himself reading with interest, and when he came to act the role of professor he acquitted himself more creditably than with logic.