Risen from the Ranks: Harry Walton's Success

A business transaction.

Ferdinand found life at the farm-house rather slow, nor did he particularly enjoy the society of the spinster whom he called aunt.  But he was playing for a valuable stake, and meant to play out his game.

“Strike while the iron is hot!” said he to himself; “That’s a good rule; but how shall I know when it is hot?  However, I must risk something, and take my chances with the old lady.”

Aunt Deborah herself hastened his action.  Her curiosity had been aroused by Ferdinand’s intimation that he wished her advice on a matter of business, and the next morning, after breakfast, she said, “Ferdinand, what was that you wanted to consult me about?  You may as well tell me now as any time.”

“Here goes, then!” thought the young man.

“I’ll tell you, aunt.  You know I am offered a large salary in San Francisco?”

“Yes, you told me so.”

“And, as you said the other day, I can lay up half my salary, and in time become a rich man.”

“To be sure you can.”

“But there is one difficulty in the way.”

“What is that?”

“I must go out there.”

“Of course you must,” said the old lady, who did not yet see the point.

“And unfortunately it costs considerable money.”

“Haven’t you got enough money to pay your fare out there?”

“No, aunt; it is very expensive living in New York, and I was unable to save anything from my salary.”

“How much does it cost to go out there?”

“About two hundred and fifty dollars.”

“That’s a good deal of money.”

“So it is; but it will be a great deal better to pay it than to lose so good a place.”

“I hope,” said the old lady, sharply, “you don’t expect me to pay your expenses out there.”

“My dear aunt,” said Ferdinand, hastily, “how can you suspect such a thing?”

“Then what do you propose to do?” asked the spinster, somewhat relieved.

“I wanted to ask your advice.”

“Sell your ring.  It’s worth over six hundred dollars.”

“Very true; but I should hardly like to part with it.  I’ll tell you what I have thought of.  It cost six hundred and fifty dollars.  I will give it as security to any one who will lend me five hundred dollars, with permission to sell it if I fail to pay up the note in six months.  By the way, aunt, why can’t you accommodate me in this matter?  You will lose nothing, and I will pay handsome interest.”

“How do you know I have the money?”

“I don’t know; but I think you must have.  But, although I am your nephew, I wouldn’t think of asking you to lend me money without security.  Business is business, so I say.”

“Very true, Ferdinand.”

“I ask nothing on the score of relationship, but I will make a business proposal.”

“I don’t believe the ring would fetch over six hundred dollars.”

“It would bring just about that.  The other fifty dollars represent the profit.  Now, aunt, I’ll make you a regular business proposal.  If you’ll lend me five hundred dollars, I’ll give you my note for five hundred and fifty, bearing interest at six per cent., payable in six months, or, to make all sure, say in a year.  I place the ring in your hands, with leave to sell it at the end of that time if I fail to carry out my agreement.  But I sha’n’t if I keep my health.”

The old lady was attracted by the idea of making a bonus of fifty dollars, but she was cautious, and averse to parting with her money.

“I don’t know what to say, Ferdinand,” she replied.  “Five hundred dollars is a good deal of money.”

“So it is, aunt.  Well, I don’t know but I can offer you a little better terms.  Give me four hundred and seventy-five, and I’ll give you a note for five hundred and fifty.  You can’t make as much interest anywhere else.”

“I’d like to accommodate you,” said the old lady, hesitating, for, like most avaricious persons, she was captivated by the prospect of making extra-legal interest.

“I know you would.  Aunt Deborah, but I don’t want to ask the money as a favor.  It is a strictly business transaction.”

“I am afraid I couldn’t spare more than four hundred and fifty.”

“Very well, I won’t dispute about the extra twenty-five dollars.  Considering how much income I’m going to get, it isn’t of any great importance.”

“And you’ll give me a note for five hundred and fifty?”

“Yes, certainly.”

“I don’t know as I ought to take so much interest.”

“It’s worth that to me, for though, of course, I could raise it by selling the ring, I don’t like to do that.”

“Well, I don’t know but I’ll do it.  I’ll get some ink, and you can write me the due bill.”

“Why, Aunt Deborah, you haven’t got the money here, have you?”

“Yes, I’ve got it in the house.  A man paid up a mortgage last week, and I haven’t yet invested the money.  I meant to put it in the savings bank.”

“You wouldn’t get but six per cent there.  Now the bonus I offer you will be equal to about twenty per cent.”

“And you really feel able to pay so much?”

“Yes, aunt; as I told you, it will be worth more than that to me.”

“Well, Ferdinand, we’ll settle the matter now.  I’ll go and get the money, and you shall give me the note and the ring.”

“Triumph!” said the young man to himself, when the old lady had left the room.  “You’re badly sold, Aunt Deborah, but it’s a good job for me.  I didn’t think I would have so little trouble.”

Within fifteen minutes the money was handed over, and Aunt Deborah took charge of the note and the valuable diamond ring.

“Be careful of the ring, Aunt Deborah,” said Ferdinand.  “Remember, I expect to redeem it again.”

“I’ll take good care of it, nephew, never fear!”

“If it were a little smaller, you could wear it, yourself.”

“How would Deborah Kensington look with a diamond ring?  The neighbors would think I was crazy.  No:  I’ll keep it in a safe place, but I won’t wear it.”

“Now, Aunt Deborah, I must speak about other arrangements.  Don’t you think it would be well to start for San Francisco as soon as possible?  You know I enter upon my duties as soon as I get there.”

“Yes, Ferdinand, I think you ought to.”

“I wish I could spare the time to spend a week with you, aunt; but business is business, and my motto is, business before pleasure.”

“And very proper, too, Ferdinand,” said the old lady, approvingly.

“So I think I had better leave Centreville tomorrow.”

“May be you had.  You must write and let me know when you get there, and how you like your place.”

“So I will, and I shall be glad to know that you take an interest in me.  Now, aunt, as I have some errands to do, I will walk to the village and come back about the middle of the afternoon.”

“Won’t you be back to dinner?”

“No, I think not, aunt.”

“Very well, Ferdinand.  Come as soon as you can.”

Half an hour later, Ferdinand entered the office of the “Centreville Gazette.”

“How do you do, Mr. Kensington?” said Clapp, eagerly.  “Anything new?”

“I should like to speak with you a moment in private, Mr. Clapp.”

“All right!”

Clapp put on his coat, and went outside, shutting the door behind him.

“Well,” said Ferdinand, “I’ve succeeded.”

“Have you got the money?”

“Yes, but not quite as much as I anticipated.”

“Can’t you carry out your plan?” asked Clapp, soberly, fearing he was to be left out in the cold.

“I’ve formed a new one.  Instead of going to California, which is very expensive, we’ll go out West, say to St. Louis, and try our fortune there.  What do you say?”

“I’m agreed.  Can Luke go too?”

“Yes.  I’ll take you both out there, and lend you fifty dollars each besides, and you shall pay me back as soon as you are able.  Will you let your friend know?”

“Yes, I’ll undertake that; but when do you propose to start?”

“To-morrow morning.”

“Whew!  That’s short notice.”

“I want to get away as soon as possible, for fear the old lady should change her mind, and want her money back.”

“That’s where you’re right.”

“Of course you must give up your situation at once, as there is short time to get ready.”

“No trouble about that,” said Clapp.  “I’ve hated the business for a long time, and shall be only too glad to leave.  It’s the same with Luke.  He won’t shed many tears at leaving Centreville.”

“Well, we’ll all meet this evening at the hotel.  I depend upon your both being ready to start in the morning.”

“All right, I’ll let Luke know.”

It may be thought singular that Ferdinand should have made so liberal an offer to two comparative strangers; but, to do the young man justice, though he had plenty of faults, he was disposed to be generous when he had money, though he was not particular how he obtained it.  Clapp and Luke Harrison he recognized as congenial spirits, and he was willing to sacrifice something to obtain their companionship.  How long his fancy was likely to last was perhaps doubtful; but for the present he was eager to associate them with his own plans.