Alger Horatio Jr.
Wait and Hope: or, A Plucky Boy's Luck

Chapter XXXII

The Blow Falls

This is the material portion of Mrs. Bradford's letter to Ben:

"Dear Benjamin: The blow has fallen at last. I felt that our prosperity was not lasting, though I never could make you believe it. I have always expected the worst, and it has come. Benjamin, we are ruined; I shall end my days in the poorhouse after all. If you want an explanation, read the letter which I enclose."

The letter enclosed was from Solomon Brief, attorney, of Montreal, informing Mrs. Bradford that, as executor of the estate of the late Matthew Baldwin, of Montreal, he begged to remind her that for five years she had failed to pay the rent on a tenement owned by the deceased, and which he now found it to be his duty to demand. At sixty dollars per year, without interest, this would now amount to three hundred dollars, which he hoped Mrs. Bradford would see the propriety of paying at once.

Mrs. Bradford continued:

I don't know whether they will put me in jail or not; but you know that I cannot pay this money, and couldn't if I had five years to do it in. What will become of us all I don't know. 'Man is born to trouble as the sparks fly upward.'

"Your sorrowful aunt,

"Jane Bradford.

"P.S. – I am sure your Uncle Matthew never intended that I should pay the rent. He once wrote me a letter to that effect, but I can't find it."

Even Ben, hopeful as he was, looked sober after reading this letter.

He went to his friend, the bookkeeper.

"Have you ever seen your uncle, Ben?" he inquired.

"No, sir."

"What was his reputation?"

"He was considered wealthy."

"It is a pity you could not visit Montreal, and make some inquiries," said the bookkeeper thoughtfully.

"Of course I can't do that."

"Then, first of all, write to this lawyer, and inquire the particulars of Mr. Baldwin's death; and next, how his property is left. Then make him acquainted with the terms on which your aunt has occupied her house."

This advice seemed reasonable, and Ben adopted it.

As Ben left the store at six o'clock, one evening, he brushed by an old man with a bent figure and apparently feeble. He stumbled and would have fallen had not Ben sprung forward and held him up.

"Thank you, my boy," he said, in a tremulous voice.

"You seem feeble," said Ben compassionately.

"Yes, I am not strong."

"If you wish it I will accompany you to your house; you might fall again."

"What is your name?"

"Benjamin Bradford."

"Where do you board?" asked the old man abruptly.

"At No. – Warren Avenue."

"I want to find a comfortable boarding-house. Do you think I could get in there?"

"Yes, sir; I know Mrs. Draper has a vacant room."

"Is she reasonable in her charges?"

"If she were not I could not afford to board there."

"I've a great mind to go there," said the old man.

"I wonder if he has money enough to pay his board regularly," thought Ben.

Just then a grandson of Mrs. Draper's, Charlie Hunting, a boy rather younger than Ben, came up.

"How are you, Ben?" he said.

"All right, Charlie. Do you know if your grandmother has let the bedroom on the second floor?"

"Yes, I know she hasn't."

"Would you like to go and see it, sir?" asked Ben.

"Yes," said the old man. "Is it far?"

"About half a mile; but we can take the cars."

"No, I can walk, if you will walk slow enough for me. I am not so young as I was."

"Certainly, sir. Charlie, if you are going home, just tell your grandmother that this gentleman is coming to look at her room. You needn't wait for me."

"All right, Ben."

"You are very kind to an old man; what did you say your name was?"

"Ben Bradford."

"Have you parents living?"

"No, sir, only an aunt and cousin."

"Are they well off?"

"Not very, sir. They got along very comfortably till lately, but now something has happened which makes me feel anxious. But I won't trouble you with it, sir."

"Tell me about it; I would like to hear it."

"For five years my aunt has occupied a small house, rent free. It belonged to her uncle. She has just got a letter saying that her uncle is dead, and demanding payment of rent for the last five years."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I have written to the lawyer, telling him on what terms my aunt occupied her house – that is, rent free, on condition that she paid the taxes regularly."

"What was the uncle's name? I am a little acquainted in Montreal.

Perhaps I may have heard it."

"His name was Matthew Baldwin."

"I have heard of him. He was a miserly old man."

"I don't know about that," said Ben.

"It seems to me you ought to look after the matter. Why don't you go to Montreal?"

"I can't spare the time or money," answered Ben. "Besides, we should certainly have heard of it if any property had been coming to us. I have written to the lawyer, and expect to hear something soon."

When they reached the boarding-house on Warren Avenue the old man appeared pleased with the vacant room. He haggled a little about the terms, but finally agreed to take it at the price set by Mrs. Draper. He gave his name as Marcus Benton, and too immediate possession.

Chapter XXXIII

Ben Receives a Commission

In due time a letter came from Montreal. It was brief and not overcourteous. From it Ben learned that Mr. Baldwin had been dead for three weeks, and that all his property was left to a young man who claimed to be a distant relative. The name of the heir was John Tremlett. The letter concluded: "I can find nothing in the papers of the deceased confirming your statement that your aunt was allowed to occupy her house rent free. If you hold any proof of your assertions, you may forward it. Otherwise Mr. Tremlett will insist upon his claim."

This letter reached Ben on a Friday. It naturally caused him anxiety. He obtained permission to go to Milltown Saturday afternoon and spend Sunday. He desired himself to institute a search for the letter of which his aunt had spoken.

His aunt received him in tearful despondency.

"Oh, what shall we do, Benjamin?" said the widow.

"First, we must search for that letter of Uncle Matthew's."

"I know I'm to blame, Benjamin. I have brought ruin upon you and my poor, innocent Tony."

"You haven't ruined me, so you need not trouble yourself about that.

Even if the letter cannot be found, I guess we shall live through it."

They hunted high and low; but the letter was not to be found. Ben was a good deal disappointed, but did not venture to say so, not wishing to increase his aunt's despondency. On Monday morning he went back to Boston, and told the bookkeeper.

"It seems quite desirable that you should go to Montreal, Ben," said young Porter.

"Of course that is out of the question, Mr. Porter."

"No; I think it can be managed."

Ben looked, as he felt, not a little surprised.

"It is some time," explained the bookkeeper, "since we sent an agent to Montreal. We have been thinking of sending some one up there, stopping at the principal towns on the way. You are rather young, but if I recommend you I presume my uncle will let you go."

Of course Mr. Porter, senior, had to be consulted. Though not a little doubtful about the expediency of sending so young a representative of the house, he finally gave his consent, which was communicated to Ben.

Ben was summoned to the countingroom, and received his instructions, with a sum of money for expenses. At three o'clock in the afternoon he was dismissed, though he was not to start till the next morning.

Old Mr. Benton's door was open when Ben returned.

"What brings you home so soon?" he inquired.

"I am going to Montreal," said Ben.

"Come in and tell me about it."

The old man, clad in a ragged dressing-gown, was sitting in a rocking-chair by the fire. The day was not cold, but his blood was thin, and he felt the need of some artificial heat. He was smoking a common clay pipe.

"Isn't this sudden – your going to Montreal?" asked Mr. Benton.

"Yes, sir; I think young Mr. Porter has made business there in order to give a chance to go?"

"What do you mean to do?"

"I shall attend first to the business of the firm, and then call on this lawyer, Mr. Brief."

"It is well thought of, and, Benjamin, try to get a chance to see the new heir, Mr. Tremlett, and find out what use he is making of his property."

"Yes, sir, I will."

"Have you money enough to pay your expenses, Benjamin?" asked the old man, rather hesitatingly.

"Oh, yes, sir; the firm provides for that."

"To be sure. Of course they ought to do it," said Mr. Benton, appearing to feel relieved.

"How long do you expect to be gone, Benjamin?"

"I don't know, sir; I am to stop in Burlington and one or two other places. I may be gone ten days."

"I shall feel lonely without you, Benjamin."

"I am glad you value my society so much."

"I am a lonely man, Benjamin; I have never had many friends, and I have outlived nearly all of those."

"You ought to have married, Mr. Benton; then you would have children and grandchildren to comfort you in your old age."

"I wish I had, Benjamin; but it is too late now."

"It is never too late to mend, Mr. Benton," said Ben. "Men older than you have married."

"Then they were fools," said Mr. Benton bluntly.

"Suppose you should be sick, sir?"

"I would hire a nurse. I am not rich, but I have enough to provide for the few years I have remaining."

"I must ask you to excuse me now, sir," said Ben. "I must buy a few things which I shall need."

Ben wrote briefly to his aunt, to let her know that he was about to start for Montreal. Mrs. Bradford was not a little discomposed.

"It's tempting Providence to send a child like Benjamin to a foreign country," she remarked to Mrs. Perkins, who had dropped in for a neighborly chat.

"Do you know how far it is, Mrs. Perkins?"

"About a thousand miles," answered her visitor, whose ideas about geography were rather misty.

"Suppose Ben should lose his way."

"Like as not he will," observed Mrs. Perkins.

"I shan't sleep a wink till Ben gets back. They ought to have sent somebody with him."

"Ben can get along," said Tony, who had implicit confidence in his big cousin. "He won't get lost."

"What does a child like you know about it?" said Mrs. Perkins rebukingly. "You shouldn't put in your oar when your mother and me are talking."

Chapter XXXIV

Solomon Brief

On his arrival in Montreal, Ben ascertained where Mr. Brief's office was, but deferred going to see him. He felt very properly that he ought to attend to the business of his employers first, and then, when he could do so without detriment to their interests look after his own. He was very anxious to succeed. He knew very well that Jones & Porter had serious doubts about the expediency of sending so young a representative to Montreal.

In calling upon different booksellers he exerted himself to the utmost. Though but sixteen, his address was pleasing, his manner self-possessed and he was courteous and gentlemanly, so that he won favorable regards of those with whom he had business relations. The result was that he received quite a number of orders, which he at once sent forward by mail.

Thus three days were spent. On the morning of the fourth, he called at the office of Solomon Brief.

"What do you want, boy?" asked a clerk.

"I want to see Mr. Brief."

"His time is too valuable to be taken up by boys."

"If I had a clerk like you I would soon get rid of him."

"You would, hey?" blustered the young man, advancing threateningly.

Ben didn't budge and the clerk stopped short.

"Did you say you came on business?" he inquired.

"That I will tell Mr. Brief," said Ben firmly.

"You are from the States, aren't you?"

"Yes."

"That accounts for your impudence."

"I should know you were not from the States."

"Why?"

"Because you are so uncivil."

"Look here, young fellow, you'd better clear out, if you don't want to get kicked out."

"Who is to do the kicking?"

"I am."

"I wouldn't advise you to try it."

"Why not?"

"It wouldn't be prudent."

"Ho! ho!" laughed the clerk sarcastically.

"Once more," said Ben. "I request you to announce me to Mr. Brief.

He is executor of Mr. Baldwin's estate, I believe."

"Yes."

"Why didn't you tell me that was your business?"

"I couldn't see that it mattered to you."

At this moment the inner door opened, and a tall man, with reddish hair and mutton-chop whiskers of the same hue, made his appearance.

"What's this Frederic? Who is this boy?"

"I wish to see you on business connected with Mr. Baldwin's estate sir," said Ben; "but this young man appears to have an objection to the interview."

"Why don't you bring him in?"

"I didn't suppose he had any business with you."

"Who constituted you a judge of that, sir? Hereafter leave me to decide. Boy, come in."

Mr. Brief threw himself into an office chair.

"Well, who are you?" he asked.

"My name is Benjamin Bradford."

"Well?"

"You wrote a letter to my aunt, Mrs. Jane Bradford, of Milltown,

Massachusetts, not long since."

"Exactly. Do you represent her?"

"I do."

"Very well. Did you bring the three hundred dollars which she owes to the estate of my client?"

"No, sir."

"What then?"

"I came to repeat what I have written you, that my aunt was authorized to occupy the house rent-free."

"It was hardly worth while to come so far to say that," said Mr. Brief, with a sneer.

"I am here in Montreal on other business, and have taken the opportunity to see you about my own."

"Indeed! Then you are a business man?"

"I represent the firm of Jones & Porter, publishers."

"Humph! Can't they get any one but a boy to represent them?"

"That, sir, is their business," he answered emphatically. "I have not chosen to inquire whether my uncle could not have found a better lawyer to act as executor."

"You are impudent, young man!" exclaimed Solomon Brief, his face being as red for the moment as his hair.

"We have neither of us been overcivil," said Ben. "Suppose we come back to business."

"Come now, you're a cool one."

"Perhaps I am. I have always understood that coolness is desirable in business. May I inquire of what disease my uncle died?"

"It would serve you right if I declined to answer your questions after your impudence to me. However, I will overlook it this time. Your uncle committed suicide."

"Good gracious!" ejaculated Ben, who was quite unprepared for this announcement. "How did he do it?"

"He drowned himself."

"What could possibly have driven him to it?"

"Of that we are ignorant. He left a letter at his lodgings, directing me to open and carry out the provisions of his will, which he had deposited with me."

"May I ask what were the provisions of his will?"

"You seem to be curious."

"I have a right to be. My aunt and myself are among his nearest relations, if not the nearest. We had a right to suppose that we might be remembered in his will."

"You were not."

"You can understand that we wish, at all events, to know the contents of the will. We should have been apprised of his death sooner."

As a lawyer Mr. Brief understood that Ben was in the right, and he produced a copy of the will.

The will was brief. The entire estate of the deceased was left to John Tremlett with this provision, that for the first year only the income should be paid to him; afterward he was to come into full possession.

"It seems regular," said Ben.

"Of course it is regular. I helped him make the will."

"Who is Mr. Tremlett? I never heard of him."

"A second or third cousin. He was a sort of adopted son of Mr. Baldwin."

Just here the inner door opened by the clerk, who announced, "Mr.

Tremlett, sir."

Chapter XXXV

John Tremlett

John Tremlett was a dark-complexioned young man, rather above the middle height. He was by no means handsome; but plain faces are often attractive, and this young man's was not. His eyes were bloodshot, and even Ben's inexperienced glance could detect the marks of dissipation. He was expensively dressed and looked like one who made a business of spending money.

"How are you, Brief?" he said carelessly, throwing himself into a chair.

"In better condition than you are, I judge from your looks, Mr.

Tremlett," responded the lawyer.

"I hope so. I feel awfully seedy," said Tremlett.

"Your own fault. You shouldn't keep such late hours."

"Oh, bother that, Brief! I must have a good time."

"You don't look as if you were enjoying your mode of life."

"Oh, I shall be all right when I get over my headache. Is this a client of yours?" glancing at Ben.

"He's a relation of yours, according to his own account," said Mr. Brief.

"Is he?" inquired Tremlett languidly. "Can't say I ever saw him before."

"Mr. Baldwin was my great-uncle," said Ben. "That is, he was an uncle of my aunt, Mrs. Jane Bradford."

"Indeed! Were you expecting a share of the property?" asked

Tremlett suspiciously.

"I thought Mr. Baldwin might remember his niece."

"He hasn't, though."

"So I find by the will."

"Sorry for you; but, of course, Mr. Baldwin had a right to dispose of his property as he saw fit."

"I don't deny his right."

"Then you are not intending to dispute the will," said Tremlett, relieved.

"I never dreamed of doing it. I came about a house which my aunt has been occupying rent-free."

"What is it, Brief? Do I know about it?"

"It's a small house in Milltown, Massachusetts, which belongs to your uncle's estate. I found that Mrs. Bradford has paid no rent for it during the last five years, and accordingly sent her an invitation to pay up arrears."

"Has she done it?"

"No, sir," said Ben. "Mr. Baldwin permitted her to occupy the house rent-free."

"That is your assertion," said the lawyer.

"It is true," returned Ben quickly.

"Show it to me in writing, and that will end all dispute."

"I hope yet to do it, but thus far we have been unable to find Uncle

Matthew's letter."

"That's all fair," said Tremlett. If the letter can't be found, the money must be paid.

"My aunt is utterly unable to pay it. She is poor."

"That is no excuse in law, my young friend," said Mr. Brief. "She must borrow the money then."

"Where?" asked Ben.

"That is not our lookout. As you are in business, perhaps you will advance the necessary sum."

"If I were able, and were satisfied of the justice of the claim, I would do so," answered Ben. "But I don't believe that Uncle Matthew intended that my aunt should be distressed by such a demand. Why should he have let the rent run on for five years if he expected her to pay it?"

"Can't say, I'm sure."

"How much is due?" asked Tremlett.

"Three hundred dollars," said Brief.

"Look here, young fellow," said Tremett, "Perhaps you and I can settle it. If you will pay me two hundred dollars cash down I will give you a receipt for the whole."

"Mr. Tremlett," said Mr. Brief stiffly, "you appear to forget that I am settling this estate. You have no authority to make such an offer."

"Wasn't the property left to me, I should like to know?" demanded

Tremlett, blustering.

"Yes."

"Then why am I not authorized to make the offer, tell me that?"

"According to Mr. Baldwin's will you can only receive the income for the first twelve months."

"That's deuced hard on a fellow," said Tremlett.

"On the other hand, I think it is a prudent precaution."

"The old man was a tight-fisted old curmudgeon. He only wanted to annoy me."

The lawyer shrugged his shoulders, and Ben broke out indignantly, "I wouldn't speak in that way of a man who had left me all his fortune."

"Mind your own business, boy," retorted John Tremlett sharply. "Do you think I am going to stand your impudence?"

"I think it is just as well you have waited till after Uncle Matthew's death before speaking of him in that way."

"Don't let up on the boy! Make him pay every cent of the debt,

Brief!" exclaimed John Tremlett angrily.

"Of course we shall follow up the matter, Mr. Tremlett."

"Have him arrested if he doesn't pay, Brief."

Ben smiled.

"You seem to forget, Mr. Tremlett, that I am not your debtor. The claim is against my aunt."

"Is that so, Brief?"

"The boy is right."

"I am sorry for it. I should like to hold him responsible."

"No doubt, Mr. Tremlett," said Ben; "but we can't always have our wishes granted."

"Leave the matter in my hands," said the lawyer. "I will do what is best."

"By the way, Brief," said John Tremlett, "I mustn't forget my errand.

I want some money."

"Some money? I gave you two hundred dollars last week."

"Well, it's gone, and I want some more."

"Mr. Tremlett," said the lawyer gravely, "are you aware how much money you have spent during the last four weeks?"

"No, I have kept no account."

"Well I have. You have drawn eight hundred dollars."

"It costs something to see life."

"Perhaps so! but I cannot permit you to exceed your income – during the first year, at least. Thus far you have spent twice as much as you were entitled to draw."

Ben listened attentively. He had no idea of the extent of his uncle's property. If it yielded four hundred dollars a month, as he inferred, it must amount to nearly, if not quite, a hundred thousand dollars. And this young man was not content with that. Our hero could not help wondering at his unreasonableness.

"I don't see how I can economize," muttered Tremlett.

"What was your income before Mr. Baldwin's death, Mr. Tremlett?" inquired Mr. Brief.

"I starved on eight hundred dollars a year."

"Then it seems to me you aught to live comfortably now on five thousand."

"My circumstances are changed."

"At this rate you'll run through the property in ten years."

"Oh, I'll pull up after awhile," said the heir carelessly. "So just give me a couple of hundreds, old fellow!"

"I will hand you a hundred," said Mr. Brief reluctantly. "Hereafter you must keep within your allowance."

"You're getting to be as miserly as the old man," said Tremlett.

"What's your name, boy?"

"My name is Benjamin Bradford."

"I suppose we are cousins, or something of that sort. Come out and take a drink."

"No, thank you. I never drink."

"You don't? What a prig you must be! Good-bye, Brief."

The heir left the office, and Mr. Brief turned to Ben.

"What do you think of your uncle's heir?" he inquired.

"I think he is going to ruin rapidly," answered Ben.

"You are right. The grub has become a butterfly, and the sober clerk has developed into a gay spendthrift. He was your uncle's clerk and distant relative. It would make the old man turn in his coffin if he knew how quickly his money is likely to melt away."

"Can't you check him?" asked Ben.

"For twelve months I can. After that I am powerless. I wish he were more like you."

"Thank you," said Ben, surprised at the compliment.

"My bark is worse that my bite," said the lawyer. "About this claim against your aunt I will do what I can for you, but try to find the letter you refer to. The sum is a small one."

"It is large to us."

"Just so; but my client would squander it in a week. Let me hear from you after you have returned and instituted a further search."

"Thank you, sir, I will write."

Ben left the office, judging Mr. Brief more favorably than at first.

With John Tremlett, he was disgusted.