Driven from Home: Carl Crawford's Experience

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.