Five Hundred Dollars; or, Jacob Marlowe's Secret. Alger Horatio Jr.

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СКАЧАТЬ think it would do. He would not speak of your having a visitor?"

      "Not if I told him not to do so."

      "You have tempted me strongly, Mary. I should like to see our boy, to see with my own eyes how he is looking at fifteen. And it would be a comfort to rest once more beneath the same roof as the wife from whom I have been so long separated."

      "I think we can risk it, Simeon. I must introduce you under another name."

      "Call me Robinson. That is the name I have borne for some years past."

      "Mother!" was heard from a little distance.

      "Bert has come out in search of me, being alarmed by my long absence. Now, be on your guard."

      "Is that you, mother? Where have you been so long? I got quite anxious about you."

      "I met an old friend of your father, Bert, and in talking with him I forgot how time was passing. Mr. Robinson, this is my son Herbert."

      Bert greeted the stranger politely. As his hand rested for a moment in the hand of Mr. Robinson, he felt the latter tremble.

      "Do you remember your father, Herbert?" asked the supposed stranger.

      "Not very well. He died when I was quite a young boy."

      "True! It was indeed a long time since," murmured Robinson, with a sigh.

      "Bert, I have invited Mr. Robinson to stay with us to-night. It is long since I have seen him and we may not meet again for some time. He will share your room."

      "Certainly, mother."

      They went together to the cottage. Mrs. Barton prepared some tea, and they sat down to a slight meal.

      "Oh, if it could only continue thus!" thought Simeon Barton, as he looked wistfully at the wife and son from whom he had been so long separated. "It is like a sight of the promised land."

      "Do you know my mother's cousin, Albert Marlowe?" asked Bert, during the evening.

      "I used to know him some years ago."

      "Shall you call upon him? He is a rich man now."

      "I think not I never—liked—him much."

      Bert laughed.

      "Ditto for me!" he said. "He is a cold, selfish man. He is not popular with his workmen."

      "By the way, Bert," said his mother, "you need not mention Mr. Robinson's visit. His business requires secrecy."

      "All right, mother! I'll bear it in mind."

      CHAPTER X.

      STOLEN MONEY

      Saturday afternoon arrived, and with it came Bert's discharge from the shoe shop. He put the four dollars in his pocket, and with a sober face went home.

      "There are my week's wages, mother," he said. "I don't know when I shall have any more money to hand you."

      "We won't borrow trouble to-night, Bert," responded Mrs. Barton, concealing her solicitude under a cheerful exterior. "To-morrow is Sunday, and we will defer all worldly anxieties till it is over."

      "You are right, mother," said Bert, readily chiming in with her cheerful humor. "I am young and strong, and there is plenty of work to be done in the world."

      "Keep up your courage, Bert, and you will be more likely to win success."

      When Sunday was over, however, Bert felt that he must begin to look about him. But the more he looked the more downhearted he became. He went to the village store, having heard that the boy employed there was about to leave. After buying a pound of sugar for his mother, he ventured to say, "Mr. Jones, don't you want to hire a boy?"

      "Why should I want to hire a boy?" asked the store-keeper, in a tone of surprise.

      "I thought that Herman was going to leave you."

      "So he was, but he has changed his mind."

      "Oh!" ejaculated Bert, disappointed.

      "Are you asking for yourself?" inquired the merchant.

      "Yes, sir."

      "I thought you were at work in the shoe shop."

      "So I was, but I have lost my place."

      "Ha!" exclaimed the store-keeper suspiciously. "If Squire Marlowe has discharged you, I don't want to hire you."

      "You are mistaken, Mr. Jones, about the cause of my discharge. He had no fault to find with me."

      "So you say," returned Jones, in evident skepticism. "Boys don't get discharged for nothing."

      Bert felt inclined to be angry, but he controlled his temper.

      "I am a pegger, and the squire has introduced a pegging machine, so he has discharged all the peggers."

      "Oh, that's different. Well, I'm sorry for you, but I have no vacancy."

      "If Herman should change his mind again, will you think of me?"

      "Yes, I will. I think you are a good boy, and you look strong for your size."

      Bert felt a little encouraged by this promise, though it was very doubtful if it would ever amount to anything.

      Day after day passed, and no employment offered. But one morning a bright idea came to Bert. Blueberries were just coming into the market, and he knew of a large pasture a little over a mile away.

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