CHAPTER XXVIII.
ANDY'S VISIT HOME
When Andy stepped on the station platform at Arden, he looked about him to see if any of his friends were in sight.
To his great satisfaction he saw Valentine Burns, who had come to escort an aunt to the cars.
"Where did you drop from, Andy?" he asked, in surprise.
"From the city. I am going to stop over Sunday."
"Good! I am delighted to see you."
"And I to see you. You are my dearest friend—except Conrad."
Valentine smiled.
"Of course no one is so near to me as he. Well, what's the news?"
"The only news I know of comes from Conrad. I hope it isn't true."
"What did he say?"
"That your father couldn't pay the interest on the mortgage held by his father, and was going to be turned out, though the squire might take your two best cows and call it even."
"He seems to be a good friend of the family, doesn't he?" remarked Andy, quietly.
"It isn't true, is it?"
"It is true that father hasn't money enough to pay the interest."
"What will happen, then?"
"You forget that he has a rich son," said Andy, with a smile.
"Can you help him out?"
"That is what I am here for."
"I am very glad to hear it," said Valentine, with an air of relief. "Even if I didn't like your family, I wouldn't like to see Conrad triumph over you."
"Come around this evening, Val. We shall have plenty to talk about."
"I will."
When Andy entered the farmhouse he received a warm welcome from his mother, and a cordial grasp of the hand from his father, who was less demonstrative. But there was an air of grave anxiety on the faces of both.
"I am glad to see you, Andy," said Sterling Grant, "but I wish you had come under more cheerful circumstances. We are in a good deal of trouble."
"I have come to get you out of it."
"Can you?" asked the farmer, in surprise.
"Yes. How much have you got toward the interest?"
"Only twenty dollars."
"And the whole sum is—"
"Ninety dollars."
"I can give you the seventy dollars you require."
"Where did you get the money? Have you borrowed it?"
"No. It belongs to me. I will explain later. Now I am hungry, and while mother is looking for some lunch for me we will talk about other matters."
"I am very much relieved, Andy. I will go and tell the squire I shall be able to meet the interest."
"Don't do it, father. We will leave him to suppose it will not be paid, and see what course he intends to pursue. Don't breathe a word to undeceive him."
"I will do as you say, Andy, though I don't know your object. Do you still like your place in New York?"
"Yes; I am learning the business fast, and have good hopes for the future. Mr. Crawford is an excellent man, and takes an interest in me."
"That is good. After all, things are brightening. When I got up this morning I felt about discouraged."
"I telegraphed you not to worry, father."
Meanwhile Mrs. Grant was preparing an appetizing lunch for her son. She knew just what he liked. When it was placed on the table, he did full justice to it.
"It tastes better than anything I get in the city, mother," he said.
"I didn't suppose our plain table would compare with city meals."
"They're not in it with you," said Andy. "I am only afraid I shall make myself sick by overeating."
Mrs. Grant was greatly pleased that Andy had not lost his taste for home fare.
"How you have grown, Andy!" she said. "And you are looking so well, too!
Do you have to work very hard?"
"Hard work agrees with me, mother. No; I don't hurt myself."
"I wish I could be here when the squire comes for the interest," Andy said, later.
"He will call this evening. You will see him," said Sterling Grant.
"Then I shall be sure to stay at home."
Meanwhile, at the house of Squire Carter, there was a conference between father and son.
Conrad had a new and bright idea. He had always coveted Andy's boat, which, as we know, was much better than his own had been. It occurred to him that here would be a good opportunity to get it for a trifle.
"Pa," he said, "will you do me a favor?"
"What is it?" asked his father, suspiciously.
"You know I haven't got a boat now. Won't you let Mr. Grant pay part of the interest in Andy's boat?"
"What do I want with the boat?" asked the squire, impatiently.
"Pa, you can make a great bargain. I hear that it cost seventy-five dollars. You can allow the farmer twenty dollars, and sell it for forty dollars cash."
"I don't know about that."
But the squire's tone was less decided. He liked a bargain, and he knew that there was some reason in what Conrad said.
"Mr. Grant might not feel at liberty to sell his son's boat," he argued.
"Andy would let him. He thinks a good deal of his family."
"I'll think of it; but I intended to propose taking two of his cows."
"That you can do next time. Probably he won't have the interest six months from now."
"I'll see about it."
"There is one other thing; you would have a better chance to sell the boat for a profit than the cows."
"Well, Conrad, I will think of it, as I said. I am going around to
Farmer Grant's this evening, and I will broach the subject."
Later in the day Conrad met Jimmy Morris.
"Have you heard the news, Conrad?" asked Jimmy.
"What is it?"
"Andy Grant is in Arden. He arrived from the city this morning."
"I am glad to hear it."
"Why? Are you and Andy such great friends?"
"It isn't on account of friendship; it's on account of business."
"What business?"
"I can't tell you, but you will very likely hear soon."
Conrad hoped to meet Andy and broach the subject of buying the boat. He decided from his knowledge of the farmer's son that, much as he valued his boat, he would be willing to sacrifice it for the sake of his father. In this thought he paid an unconscious tribute to Andy, for in similar circumstances he would have been incapable of anything so unselfish.
About half-past seven, Andy, looking out of the window, saw the stately and dignified figure of Squire Carter coming up the front path.
"The squire is coming, father," he said. "I want you to look sober, just as if you were unprepared to pay the interest."
Squire Carter had already been informed by Conrad that Andy was in the village. He showed no surprise, therefore, when he saw him.
He had also been down to the river and taken a look at Andy's boat. He could see that it was a very handsome one, and doubtless worth as much as Conrad reported.
"So you have come home, Andrew?" he said.
"Yes, Squire Carter."
"You haven't lost your place, have you?"
"No, sir. I have come home on a visit."
"Ahem! You arrived at an unfortunate time for your father. He has had bad luck. Things seem to have gone against him."
"So I heard, sir."
"If you had been at home to help him on the farm, things would have been different, maybe."
"I hope to help him by staying in the city."
"That isn't very likely. I don't approve, for my part, of boys leaving home to work."
"I think I shall succeed in the end, sir."
"Ahem! I have no doubt you think so, but boys like you haven't much judgment. I suppose you know that interest is due on the mortgage for the first six months, and that your father can't meet it."
"I have heard so, Squire Carter."
"As a friend of your father I have a plan to propose that may make things easy for him. I am glad to see you, for a part of my business is with you."
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE INTEREST IS PAID
Andy was surprised by the squire's words. He could not conjecture what business Squire Carter could have with him.
"First," said the squire, "may I ask, Mr. Grant, whether you can pay the interest on the mortgage which I hold when it comes due?"
"I have only twenty-five dollars at my command now, Squire Carter.
Perhaps something may turn up between now and next Tuesday."
"That is extremely likely," said the squire, in a tone of sarcasm.
"Have you anything to propose? Are you willing to wait a month?"
"No, sir; I am not. It will be extreme folly on my part. Do you expect to come into a fortune within thirty days?"
"No, sir."
"So I presume. However, I have a plan to propose. I did intend to say that I would allow you fifty dollars for your two best cows. But even that would not pay the deficit. I believe your son owns a boat."
"I do," said Andy, looking up. He began to understand the squire's plan.
"I am willing to allow twenty dollars for it, as my son has taken a fancy to it, and his own boat was destroyed through the malice of a tramp. This, with fifty dollars for your two cows, would pay the interest all but twenty dollars, which you say you are able to pay in cash."
"Squire Carter, my cows are of a choice breed, and are worth fifty dollars each."
"They would not fetch that sum. Indeed, twenty-five dollars each is all that you would have any chance of getting. If you doubt it, you may try to get an offer elsewhere."
"What should I do without the cows? I depend on the butter and milk I obtain from them for a good part of my cash income."
"That is your lookout," said the squire, shrugging his shoulders.
"You don't appear to have much consideration for me."
"Business is business, Mr. Grant. You owe me ninety dollars. If you can't pay me in one form, you must in another."
"I would like to say a word, Squire Carter," said Andy. "The boat for which you offer twenty dollars cost Mr. Gate seventy-five."
"I don't believe it."
"I have his word for it."
"Very likely, but it wouldn't be the first case where a man overstated the price of his purchase."
"Mr. Gale would not deceive me in that way."
"Have it as you like. The boat is second-hand now, and worth far less than when it was new," persisted the squire.
"There is considerable difference between twenty dollars and seventy-five."
"Well, I might stretch a point and call it twenty-five, as Conrad is desirous of having the boat. In that case there would be five dollars coming to you, which you would doubtless find very handy."
"I think I shall have to decline your offer, Squire Carter."
"And leave your poor father in trouble? I thought better of you."
Squire Carter was surprised to find that both Andy and his father were cool, and apparently not suffering anxiety. He had thought they would be sad, and would resort to entreaties.
"Does it strike you, Squire Carter, that you are trying to drive a very hard bargain with my father and myself? You offer a very low sum for the cows and for my boat."
"If you can get more anywhere else, you are quite at liberty to do so," said the squire, in a tone of indifference.
He felt that father and son were in his power, and that he would have his own way in the end.
"I don't think we shall sell at all," said Andy, calmly.
"What!" ejaculated the squire. "Not sell at all? Do you think I will allow the interest to remain unpaid?"
"The interest will be paid."
"How? Where will you get the money?"
"I will supply my father with what he needs."
"You talk like a fool!" said the squire, sharply. "Do you think I will allow myself to be humbugged by a boy?"
"No, sir; but you can rely upon what I say."
"Have you borrowed the money from Mr. Gale?"
"I have not seen Mr. Gale for several months. He does not know of my father's pecuniary trouble. If he did, I think he would come to his and my assistance. As to the boat, I value it not only on account of its intrinsic worth, but because he gave it to me. Conrad cannot have it."
Squire Carter was much irritated. Besides, he did not believe that Andy would really be able to furnish his father with the help he needed.
"I am not easily deceived, Andrew Grant," he said. "It is useless for me to remain here any longer. I will only say that if the interest is not paid on Tuesday next, your father must take the consequences."
"He is ready to pay it now—before it is due—if you will give him a receipt."
"Wh—what!" ejaculated the squire, in amazement.
"I mean what I say. Father, will you give the squire writing materials and ask him to make out a receipt?"
"Is this—straight? Are you really able to pay the interest now?"
"Yes, sir. You need have no fear on that score. When my father wrote me about his difficulty I procured the money, and I have it here."
Half incredulous, Squire Carter made out the receipt, and a roll of bills was handed to him. He counted them carefully, and put them in his wallet.
"The money is correct," he said, stiffly. "I am glad you are able to pay it."
"Thanks to Andy here," said his father, with a grateful look at his son.
"All is well so far, but if your son has borrowed the money it will have to be repaid."
"I didn't borrow it, Squire Carter."
"Do you mean to say that you have been able to save it up out of your boy's wages?"
"I received it from my employer for special services."
Squire Carter left the house not altogether satisfied. He had received his interest, but he had hoped to profit by the farmer's needs, and get what would have been of considerably greater value than the money. In this he had been disappointed.
"But six months hence interest will be due again," he reflected, by way of consolation. "This time the Grants were lucky, but won't be so all the time. Besides, when the mortgage falls due it will take more help than the boy can give to settle it."
When the squire reached home, he found Conrad waiting to see him.
"Well, pa," he said, "am I going to have the boat?"
"No," answered his father, shortly.
"Why not? You said you would get it for me."
"They wouldn't sell."
"Then how will they pay the interest?"
"It is paid already."
Conrad opened his eyes wide with amazement.
"Where did the money come from?"
"The boy advanced it to his father."
"You must be joking, pa. Where could Andy get ninety dollars?"
"He only had to supply seventy. As to where it came from I can't tell.
You had better ask him."
"So I will. It's a shame I can't have the boat."
"He wants too much for it."
"How much does he want?"
"I don't know. If he will let you have it for thirty dollars, you can buy it."
"Thank you, pa. It's the same as mine. A boy like Andy can't afford to refuse thirty dollars."
"I don't know. He seems a mighty independent sort of boy."
Conrad lost no time in trying to purchase the boat of Andy, but of course without success.
"I would rather keep it myself," was the reply.
"But you can't use it."
"Not at present, perhaps, but I may be able to some time. Besides, Mr. Gale gave it to me, and I shouldn't be willing to part with it. At any rate, I wouldn't sell for thirty dollars."
"Never mind, Conrad," said his father. "When the next interest is payable, Andrew will probably be glad to accept your offer."
Andy enjoyed the short visit home. He managed to see the boys with whom he was most intimate, and promised to look out for positions in the city for two of them. At home his presence was a source of comfort and joy to his mother. It gladdened him to see the bright look on her face, which had been grave and anxious when he arrived.
On Monday, morning he set out for New York on an early train, feeling that his visit had been in every way a success. Several boys were at the station to see him off, but among them he did not perceive Conrad Carter.
CHAPTER XXX.
AN UNEXPECTED PROPOSAL
Three months later, when Andy entered the office one morning, he found
Mr. Crawford in a thoughtful mood.
"I wish you were older, Andy," he began, abruptly.
"Why, sir?"
"Because I have a commission I could then intrust to you."
"Then I am too young for it now?"
"I am afraid so. And yet—but I will tell you what it is, and see if you consider yourself equal to it. How old are you now?"
"Seventeen, sir."
"I will explain myself. I am intimately acquainted with the men who are engineering the Northern Pacific Railroad, and I have reliable advices that work will at once be resumed on it, and probably the road will be completed in less than a year."
"I suppose this will raise the price of our land in Tacoma?"
"Precisely. Still, I think it will not be advisable to sell for some time to come. My object is rather to buy more land."
"I should think it would be a good idea."
"The time to buy is now, before the public learn of the probable early completion of the railroad. If I could spare the time from my business I would go out there at once."
"I should think it would pay, Mr. Crawford."
"Doubtless it would, but I cannot arrange to leave now. I expect to have some large transactions in real estate during the next two or three months."
"I see the difficulty, sir."
"I will come to the point. Do you think you could go to Tacoma, look carefully over the ground, and secure desirable lots for me?"
"I think I could, sir, under instructions from you."
"That is what I had in view when I said I wished you were older."
"You could, at any rate, rely upon my faithfully carrying out your instructions."
"I am sure of that, and I also have considerable confidence in your good judgment. At any rate, I will take the risk. What day is to-day?"
"Thursday."
"Make preparations to start on Monday. Can you do so?"
"Yes, sir."
Andy felt a thrill of delight at the prospect held out to him. He had always felt a strong desire to see the great West, but had realized that he should probably have to wait a good many years before his wish was gratified. It had been a dream, but now his dream bade fair to become actuality.
"I will prepare a general letter of instructions and make such suggestions as may occur to me," continued Mr. Crawford. "I will excuse you from office work for the balance of the week, in order that you may make the necessary preparations."
As the Northern Pacific road was not completed, it was decided that Andy should go to San Francisco by the Union Pacific and Central Pacific roads, and take steamer thence to Puget Sound.
"You can stay in San Francisco three days," said Mr. Crawford, considerately. "It will give you a chance to rest and see the city."
On Monday Andy started on his long journey. He wrote a brief letter to his mother, as follows:
"DEAR MOTHER: I am going West on some business for Mr. Crawford. I will write you on the way. You are at liberty to tell this to any one in Arden, but I don't care to have the extent of my journey known. You may think I am young for such a trip, but I have no fears. The business is important, but it is simple, and I hope to carry it through successfully.
In haste, your loving son,
ANDY."
However, Mrs. Grant was not the first one to hear of Andy's trip. It so happened that at the station Andy met Conrad Carter, who had just come into the city for a day.
"How do you happen to be here?" asked Conrad, in surprise.
"I am leaving the city."
"I suppose you are discharged and going home," remarked Conrad, loftily.
"No; I am going on some business for my employer."
"How far do you go?"
"My first stop will be Chicago."
Conrad was amazed.
"Is this straight?" he asked.
"Yes."
"You are going on business for the firm?"
"Yes."
"Mr. Crawford must be a fool."
"Why?"
"To send an ignorant country boy to Chicago."
Andy smiled.
"Mr. Crawford has succeeded very well in business, and I don't think he is a fool."
"He must be infatuated with you."
"If he is, that is lucky for me."
"How long do you expect to be away?"
"I can't say; I can't tell how long it will take me to transact my business."
"I wish pa would let me go to Chicago," said Conrad, enviously. "You are a poor boy, and yet you travel more than I."
"Your time will come, Conrad."
"Has your employer given you much money to travel with?"
"I am to draw on him for what I want."
"Say, won't you write me a letter from Chicago? I wish I had known you were going; I would have asked pa to let me go with you."
Andy was amused at Conrad's change of front. He knew very well that Conrad was no more his friend than before, but that his notions were strictly selfish. However, he promised to write to him if he could get time, and made the promise in good faith.
"I wish Valentine were going with me," he thought; "but I should not enjoy Conrad's company."
Andy's journey to Chicago was uneventful. About two hours before the train arrived a tall man left his seat on the opposite side of the car and seated himself beside Andy.
"Good-morning," he began. "I suppose, like me, you propose to stop in
Chicago?"
"For about twenty-four hours," answered Andy.
"And then you go on further?"
"Yes, sir."
"How far?"
"I cannot tell you definitely," answered Andy, who thought it wise to be on his guard.
"Could you oblige me with small bills for a ten? I am owing a dollar to the porter."
Andy took out a large-sized wallet from an inner pocket and opened it.
It contained about fifty dollars in bills of different denominations.
"I am afraid I cannot accommodate you," he said, "unless two five-dollar bills will answer your purpose."
"I am afraid it won't help me."
"I am sorry," said Andy, politely.
He did not observe the covetous glance of the stranger as he noted the large wallet and its contents. It occurred to him afterward that his companion had not produced the bill he wished changed.
"Oh, well," said the stranger, carelessly, "it doesn't matter. I can get the bill changed at the depot. Are you traveling on business?" he inquired.
"Yes, sir."
"So am I. I represent the firm of Arnold & Constable, in New York.
Doubtless you have heard of them."
"Oh, yes. They are well known."
"I have been in their employ for five years. Before that I worked for
Claflin."
"Indeed!"
"You do not mention the name of your firm."
"No, I am traveling on private business for the head of the firm."
"Ah, yes. I don't wish to be inquisitive. You do right to keep the business to yourself."
"You see, it is not my business."
"Just so! You are young for a business agent."
"That is true, but I am growing older every day."
"Exactly so! Good joke!"
Andy's companion laughed quite heartily, rather to the surprise of his young acquaintance.
"I am very glad to have met you. You see, I am very social, and can't stand being alone. By the way, where do you stop in Chicago?"
"At the Sherman House."
"Good hotel! I have stopped there often. Still, there is nothing as homelike as a private house. I have a friend living in the city who keeps a first-class boarding house and only charges transient guests a dollar and a quarter a day. I wish you could be induced to go there with me. At the hotel you will have to pay three or four dollars."
Now, Andy was naturally economical, and thought it would be praiseworthy to save money for Mr. Crawford. He inquired the location of the boarding house, and imprudently decided to act on his companion's proposal.