Bob Burton. Horatio Alger Jr.

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СКАЧАТЬ was thinking of Mr. Wolverton. Your father has gone to pay him interest on the mortgage."

      "Wolverton is a mean old hunks. He's got a nephew living with him, a boy about my age. He works him nearly to death, and I am sure the poor boy doesn't get half enough to eat."

      "I was wishing your father didn't owe money to such a man."

      "Oh, well, mother, there's no use in worrying. It's only three thousand dollars, and if we have a good crop next year, father will be able to pay off at least half of it. You can see we've got a splendid ranch, mother. There isn't another within twenty miles where the land is as rich."

      "I shall be glad to see the day when the mortgage is wholly paid off, and we are out of debt."

      "So shall I, mother."

      "Does Mr. Wolverton ever take any notice of you, Robert?"

      "He took some notice of me this morning," laughed Bob. "That reminds me. I just left three prairie chickens with Rachel in the kitchen."

      "Did you shoot them this morning, Robert?"

      "Yes, mother; you see I have my hunting dress on. But I shot two more. I was bringing them home across a field of Wolverton's, when the old fellow suddenly made his appearance, and, charging me with shooting them on his land, laid claim to them. I denied the charge and told him I proposed to keep them. With that he seized me by the collar, and we had a rough-and-tumble fight for five minutes."

      "Oh, Robert, how imprudent!"

      "Well, mother, it was more than flesh and blood could stand. The upshot of it was that I left him lying on his back trembling with rage. I threw down two of the chickens to appease him. I hope he'll have them for dinner, and Sam'll get a share of them. The poor fellow is half starved. I don't believe he gets a square meal once a week."

      "I am afraid you have made an enemy of Mr. Wolverton, Robert."

      "I can't help it, mother. Would you have me bow down to him, and meekly yield up my rights?"

      "But, Robert, to get into a fight with a man so much older?"

      "I don't want to get into any difficulty, mother. It was forced upon me. Besides, I left him two of the chickens."

      "Was Clip with you?"

      "I reckon I was, missis," said Clip, displaying his ivories. "I laughed like to split when Massa Bob laid de old man down on his back. Wasn't he jest ravin'? Wouldn't have lost dat sight, missis, for de biggest watermillion I ever seed."

      Mrs. Burton smiled, but her smile was a faint one. She knew Aaron Wolverton, and she feared that some time or other he would try to be revenged on Bob.

      CHAPTER II

      AARON WOLVERTON

      Richard Burton drove rapidly to the village. I may state here that the name of the township was Carver. Like most Western villages, it consisted principally of one long, central street, containing buildings of all sizes and descriptions, from a three-story hotel to a one-story office. But there seemed to be a good deal going on all the time – much more than in an Eastern town of the size. Western people are active, progressive, never content to stand still. In the drowsy atmosphere that pervades many an Eastern country town they would stagnate, but there perpetual motion is the rule.

      Everybody in Carver knew Richard Burton. Everybody liked him also; he was easy and social with all. I have said everybody, but I must make one exception, and that was the man on whom he now proposed to call.

      About midway on the main street was a small one-story building, about twelve feet square. Above the door was a sign:

AARON WOLVERTON,REAL ESTATE AGENT

      Mr. Wolverton had considerable capital, which he was in the habit of lending on mortgage, always for a large interest, and on substantial security. He was supposed to be rich, but did not live like a rich man. His dwelling lay a little way back from the street; it was small, cramped, and uncomfortable, and his style of living was of the most economical character. He was a bachelor, and the only other members of his family were his sister, Sally Wolverton, who resembled her brother in person and character, and a nephew, Sam, the son of a brother, who came in for a liberal share of ill-treatment from the uncle, on whom he was dependent.

      Richard Burton reined up in front of Wolverton's office, and, leaping from his carriage, unceremoniously opened the outer door.

      "Good morning, Wolverton," he said, cheerily.

      Aaron Wolverton, a meagre and wrinkled man of fifty-five, looked up from his desk, and scanned his visitor's face attentively. He was not sure but Richard Burton, who was a high-spirited man, had come to take him to task for his attack upon Bob a short time before. Whenever he thought of it, he fairly trembled with rage and humiliation, for the boy had conquered him, and he knew it.

      Burton's words reassured him.

      "I have come to pay interest on the mortgage, Wolverton. I suppose you haven't forgotten that?"

      "No."

      "Catch you forgetting a thing of that kind. That wouldn't be like you."

      "I suppose you don't want to lift the mortgage?"

      "No; it is all I can do to pay the interest. The first six months have passed remarkably quick."

      "Not to me."

      "No, for you are to receive money, I to pay it. It makes all the difference in the world. I suppose you are not in need of the money?"

      "No, not at present," answered Wolverton, slowly; "but if I had it I could get higher interest."

      "Higher interest! Isn't ten per cent. enough for you?"

      "Nothing is enough, as long as I can get more."

      "Come, Wolverton, don't be such a money-grabber. You must be rolling in money."

      The old man shrugged his shoulders in deprecation.

      "Times are dull, and – I lose money sometimes," he said.

      "Not much, if you know it," said Burton, jocosely. "Well, just write a receipt for six months' interest, one hundred and fifty dollars."

      Aaron Wolverton took the proffered bills, eyeing them with eager cupidity, and put them in his desk. Then he made out a receipt, and handed it to his visitor.

      "You will be paying the mortgage next year?" he said inquiringly.

      "I don't know, Wolverton. If the crops are good, I may pay a part. But I am afraid I am not a very good manager. I can't save money like you, and that brings me round to the question: For whom are you piling up all this wealth? Is it for Sam?"

      "Sam is a young loafer," said Wolverton, with a frown. "I give him a home and his living, and he is almost too lazy to breathe."

      "You were not that way at his age?"

      "No. I worked early and late. I was a poor boy. All that I have, I made by hard work."

      "Take my advice, Wolverton, and get the worth of it while you live. But perhaps you are saving with a view to matrimony. Ha, ha!"

      And СКАЧАТЬ