Dave Porter at Oak Hall. Stratemeyer Edward

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      CHAPTER IV

      THE OLD PROFESSOR'S PUPIL

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      Before Dave left the Wadsworth mansion the lady of the place insisted upon thanking him warmly for what he had done for her daughter. Jessie was also grateful and did what she could to show it.

      "I shall never forget you, Dave Porter," she said, with a warm smile. "If it hadn't been for you I should have been burnt up!" And her pretty eyes filled with tears.

      "I'm glad I was able to do it for you," was Dave's simple answer. He wanted to say more, but, somehow, the words would not come. He had always looked at Jessie Wadsworth as something of a fairy, far removed from such a country boy as himself. Now she seemed more of a fairy and more beautiful than ever.

      When Dave reached home he found Caspar Potts anxiously awaiting his return.

      "Mr. Wadsworth is coming to see us," said he. "He thinks you must have taught him when he went to Vale College."

      "Did he go to old Vale!" cried Caspar Potts. ​"I remember that I taught several Wadsworths during my time there."

      "I had quite an adventure," went on Dave, and related what had happened to Jessie. "They thought I did something, but I guess it wasn't so much," he added.

      On the following morning Dave rose early, and put the cottage in good order for the reception of their visitor. He also helped Caspar Potts to don his best suit of clothes.

      "You must be the professor for to-day," he said, with a smile, and this pleased the old man greatly.

      "I—I really think I could lecture again, Dave—if I only could get my strength back," said he. "But I'm too old—too old!" And he heaved a deep sigh.

      Oliver Wadsworth drove up shortly after ten o'clock in his carriage, the automobile having been sent away for repairs. Caspar Potts and Dave went out on the porch to greet him.

      "Professor Potts, sure enough!" cried the manufacturer, cheerily, as he shook hands. "Well, who would have dreamed of finding you buried in such a place as this!"

      "It was a quiet, restful spot, and I needed quiet," answered the old man. "Come in, and make yourself at home, Mr. Wadsworth," and he led the way to the best apartment the cottage afforded.

      ​"I wish I had known of this before, professor; I should have called and brought some of my classmates along. Don't you remember Jack Haswell and Dick Merrick?"

      "Yes, yes!"

      "They often come to see me, and they have asked about you more than once. And so you have turned farmer? This is truly wonderful!"

      "It is what I like best, besides lecturing, Mr. Wadsworth. But I don't know that I am to keep my farm much longer, unless——"

      "Unless you can make some arrangement to get rid of Aaron Poole, is that it?"

      "It's about that mortgage, yes."

      "Don't let that worry you, professor. I've got a little money to spare, and if you want to keep the farm I'll take up that mortgage, and we'll send Mr. Aaron Poole about his business."

      At this announcement the face of the old man brightened wonderfully.

      "It's very kind of you to do that. But the interest money—You see, I've been sick——"

      "What interest do you pay now?"

      "Six per cent."

      "We'll make the interest on the new mortgage four per cent., and you can pay it as you feel able. I'll not press you."

      "Oh, thank you!" Caspar Potts shook hands ​with great fervor. "It is kind of you to remember your old professor in this way!" And two tears glistened in his feeble eyes.

      "If you'll excuse me, I'll take a look over the farm with Dave," continued the manufacturer. "Perhaps I can suggest some improvements." He gave a light laugh, for he was no farmer. "We'll be back shortly."

      Dave was willing enough to show Mr. Wadsworth over the farm, and the two walked out together. The manufacturer looked over that portion which faced the highway.

      "You've got a good six hundred feet on both sides of the road," he said, measuring the distance with his eye. "They would certainly make fine town lots some day—after the trolley was established."

      "Town lots!" ejaculated Dave.

      "Certainly. Crumville is growing fast, and people will always settle along the line of a trolley. It's good property for Professor Potts to hold."

      "I am glad to hear that, Mr. Wadsworth, and doubly glad to know that you'll take up that mortgage. Mr. Potts couldn't get along with Mr. Aaron Poole at all."

      "Poole is a hard man—we all know that. I suppose he thought he'd get this for a song, and then hold it for a big rise. Now, tell me truthfully, ​if you can, Dave. Has the professor any ready money?"

      "So far as I know, he has next to nothing, sir."

      "Then I am going to pay that interest now due, and I'm going to leave a little purse with him besides. I am also going to communicate with some old classmates, so in the future, Professor Potts will be well cared for. I feel he deserves this."