Herbert Carter's Legacy; Or, the Inventor's Son

“I am sorry for that. I am afraid it may interfere with Brown’s coming.”

“There is one house, I think, that would just suit your cousin,” said Squire Leech, slowly.

“Where is it?”

“It is now occupied by the widow Carter and her son.”

“Is she going to move?”

“She wouldn’t like to.”

“Then how will that help us? Who owns the house?”

“She does; that is, nominally. I hold a mortgage on the place for seven hundred and fifty dollars, which is more than half the market value.”

“Then it may eventually fall into your hands?”

“Very probably. Between ourselves, I think it probable that she will fail to be ready with the semi-annual interest, which comes due next week. She is quite poor—has nothing but this property—and has to sew for a living, or braid straw, neither of which pays well.”

“Suppose she is not ready with the interest, do you propose to foreclose?”

“I think I shall. I will allow her three or four hundred dollars for her share of the property, and that will be the best thing she can do, in my opinion.”

Whether or not it would be the best thing for Mrs. Carter, it certainly wouldn’t be a bad speculation for the squire, since the place, as already stated, was worth fully fifteen hundred dollars. How a rich man can deliberately plot to defraud a poor woman of a portion of her small property, you and I, my young reader, may find it hard to understand. Unfortunately there are too many cases in real life where just such things happen, so that there really seems to be a good deal of truth in the old adage that prosperity hardens the heart.

If Mr. Banks had been a just or kind-hearted man, he would not have encouraged his employer in the plan he had just broached; but he was selfish, and thought he saw in it an easy solution of the difficulty which he had met with in securing a house for his cousin. He did not know Mrs. Carter, and felt no particular interest in the question what was to become of her if she was ejected from her house. No doubt she would find a home somewhere. At any rate, it was not his business.

“It seems to me that will be an excellent plan,” he said, with satisfaction. “How soon can we find out about it?”

“Next week—Tuesday. It is then that the interest comes due.”

“Suppose she is ready to pay the interest, what then?”

“Then I will make her an offer for the place, and represent to her that it will be the better plan for her to part with it, and so escape the payment of interest. She has to pay forty-five dollars a year, and that is a great drain upon one who earns no more than she does.”

“I think you said she had a son; does he earn anything? Or perhaps he isn’t old enough.”

“Yes, he is thirteen or fourteen; still, there isn’t much in a small village like this for a boy to do. He is attending school, I believe.”

“Then, in one way or another, you think there is a good chance of our obtaining the house,” said the superintendent, with satisfaction.

“Yes, I think so.”

“How would it do to go around and speak to the widow about it beforehand? I could then write to Brown.”

“As to that, she may be very particular to retain the house, and even if she is not provided with the money, succeed in borrowing enough. Now, my idea is to say nothing about it till Tuesday. She may depend upon my waiting a few days. That I shall not do. If the money is not forthcoming I will foreclose at once, without giving her time to arrange for the money.”

The superintendent nodded.

“A very shrewd plan, Squire Leech,” he said. “By the way, where is the house situated?”

“Only a furlong up the road. It is on the opposite side of the way.”

“I think I remember it. There is some land connected with it, isn’t there?”

“Nearly an acre. The house is small, but neat. In fact, for a small place, I consider it quite desirable. Tomorrow we will ride by it, and you can take more particular notice.”

They did ride by, as we know, and Squire Leech pointed it out to his superintendent. Herbert noticed this, but he did not know that the two men had formed a scheme for turning his mother and himself out of their comfortable home, and defrauding his mother of a considerable portion of the small property which his father had left. Had he known this, it would have filled him with indignation, and he would have felt that even property is no absolute safeguard against the selfish schemes of the mercenary and the rapacious.

CHAPTER X

SQUIRE LEECH IS BAFFLED

Tuesday arrived, but as yet the check from Mr. Spencer had not been received.

“Never mind, mother,” said Herbert, “you will get it before the end of the week.”

“But I shall need it to pay the interest to Squire Leech. He will call for it today.”

“How much it is?”

“Twenty-two dollars and a half.”

“You forget the gold I handed you last week.”

“I don’t like to use it, Herbert; I want you to use it for yourself.”

“I am as much interested in paying the interest as you, mother. Don’t I occupy the house?”

Seeing that Herbert was in earnest, Mrs. Carter overcame her scruples, and laid aside enough of the money to make up the amount required.

About five minutes of twelve Squire Leech was seen advancing to the front door with slow, pompous steps.

“There he comes, mother!” said Herbert. “I’ll open the door.”

“Is your mother at home, Herbert?” asked the squire, in a dignified tone.

“Yes, sir. Won’t you walk in?”

“Ahem, yes! I think I will. I have a little matter of business with her.”

Squire Leech entered the small sitting room, which seemed uncomfortably full when he was in it—not on account of his size, but because he seemed so swollen with a sense of his own importance as to convey the idea that he was cramped for space—very much like an owl in the cage of a canary.

“Good morning, Squire Leech,” said the widow.

“Good morning, ma’am. I apprehend you know my errand.”

“I suppose you come for the interest, Squire Leech.”