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

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СКАЧАТЬ style="font-size:15px;">      Now that Uncle Jacob had hinted at the possession of wealth, Squire Marlowe beheld him as one transfigured. He was no longer a common, shabby old man, but a worthy old gentleman of eccentric ideas in the matter of wardrobe and manners.

      "I wonder if Uncle Jacob wouldn't advance me twenty-five thousand dollars," was the thought that was passing through his mind as he gazed genially at his countrified guest. "It would help me amazingly in my business, and enable me to do double as much. I will mention it to him in good time."

      "I've a great mind to come upon the old man for a handsome birthday present," thought Percy. "Fifty dollars wouldn't be much for him to give. I shan't get more than a fiver from the governor."

      "Uncle Jacob," said the squire, as they rose from the table, "suppose you walk over to the factory with me; I should like you to see it."

      "Nothing would please me better," said Jacob Marlowe, briskly.

      "Will you come along, Percy?" asked his father.

      "No, papa," answered Percy, with a grimace. "You know I don't like the smell of leather."

      "I ought not to dislike it," said the squire, with a smile, "for it gives me a very handsome income."

      "Oh, it's different with you," returned Percy. "Just give me the profits of the factory and I'll go there every day."

      "He's a sharp one!" said the squire, with a smile.

      "I am afraid he is too sharp to suit me," thought Uncle Jacob. "It seems to me the boy's mind runs upon money, and his own interests."

      The shoe factory was a large building of two stories, and within it was a hive of industry.

      As the squire led the way he explained the various workings to the old man, who was really curious and interested. It was on a larger scale than was common at the time he left for California, and the use of machinery had to a greater extent supplemented and superseded the work of the hands.

      Finally they came to a room where several boys were pegging shoes, for this work was still done in the old-fashioned way. Uncle Jacob's eyes lighted up when in one of them he recognized Bert Barton.

      He hurried forward, and put his hand on Bert's shoulder.

      "So this is your business," he said.

      "Yes," answered Bert, with a smile.

      "Do you find it hard work?"

      "Oh, no! That is, I am used to it. It used to tire me at first."

      "Did you tell your mother I was in town?"

      "Yes," answered Bert, "and she says she hopes you will call."

      "To be sure I will. I may call this evening."

      "He's a likely boy, Albert," said Uncle Jacob, rejoining the squire, who stood aloof with a look of annoyance on his face.

      "He works very well, I believe," was the cold reply. "Shall we move on?"

      "Albert doesn't seem to feel much interest in his poor relations," thought Uncle Jacob. "Well, it's human nature, I suppose."

      "You seem to be doing a large business, Albert," he said aloud.

      "Yes; but with a little more capital I could very much increase it," rejoined the squire. "With twenty-five thousand dollars now, I would enlarge the factory to double its present size, and do twice the business I am now doing."

      "I am afraid you want to get rich too fast, Albert."

      "It would gratify my spirit of enterprise, Uncle Jacob. I feel that I have the ability to make a big business success."

      "Very likely, Albert. I've seen enough to convince me of that."

      "He'll lend me the money if I work things right," Squire Marlowe said to himself. "He'll be like wax in my hands."

      CHAPTER IV.

      UNCLE JACOB'S STARTLING REVELATION

      "Uncle Jacob was at the factory this afternoon," said Bert to his mother, when he went home. "He says he may call here this evening."

      "I hope he will. He was my poor mother's favorite brother—always kind and good-hearted. How is he looking, Bert?"

      "He seems in good health for an old man. His face is browned up, as if he had been out in the open air a good deal."

      "I hope he has. It is twenty-five years since he went to California. Does he look as if he had prospered?"

      "I am afraid he is poor, mother, for although his clothing is neat and clean, it is plain and the cloth is faded?"

      "I am sorry to hear that, but I will welcome him none the less warmly. It will indeed seem like old times to have Uncle Jacob in my house."

      Meanwhile Bert had been bringing in wood and doing chores for his mother.

      "Did Uncle Jacob tell you how long he intended to stay in Lakeville?"

      "No, mother; I only had a short time to talk with him when Percy rode by, and then he started to call on the squire. Do you know, mother, I am rather surprised that he should have been so well received, poor as he looks."

      "I think better of Albert for it. It shows that he is not so worldly as I feared. Certainly Uncle Jacob ought to be well received by Albert Marlowe, for when Albert's father was in trouble Jacob lent him five hundred dollars—all in money he had—and I feel sure the money has not been repaid to him to this day."

      "I don't think Percy will be very cordial. You know what high notions he has."

      "He gets them principally from his mother, who is extremely aristocratic in her ideas."

      "Was she of a high family?"

      Mrs. Barton smiled.

      "Her father was a fisherman," she replied, "and when a girl she used to run barefoot on the sand. Later on she sewed straw for a living. She is no worse for that, certainly, but it doesn't give her any claims to aristocracy."

      "Do you think Percy knows about his mother's early life?"

      "I presume she has kept it secret from him."

      "I shall think of it when Percy gets into one of his patronizing moods."

      "Remember, Bert, that neither he nor his mother is any the worse for her humble birth."

      "I understand that, I hope, mother, just as I don't feel ashamed of our being poor."

      "As long as we can make an honorable living, we have no right to complain."

      "That reminds me, mother, that I heard bad news at the shop to-day."

      "What is that?"

      "That the shop is likely to be shut down all next month."

      "Why is that?" asked Mrs. Barton, an anxious look coming over her face.

      "I believe the market is over-supplied with shoes, and it is thought best to suspend СКАЧАТЬ