Luck and Pluck

"How did your father seem affected by the interruption?"

"He seemed disappointed."

"Didn't you have any further chance to speak with your father?"

"No; Mrs. Oakley would never admit me again."

The lawyer sat for a moment plunged in thought. At length he said:—

"Have you ever chanced, since your father's death, to see your stepmother searching the papers he left behind?"

"Yes, sir."

"Tell me when."

John related the circumstances.

"Did she give any explanation?"

"She said she was looking for a receipt."

"Didn't she seem disturbed at your seeing her thus engaged?"

"She seemed angry, and accused me of prying into her actions."

"What opinion did you form of her object at that time?" asked the lawyer.

"I thought she was looking for the will," said John, frankly.

"Are your relations with your stepmother pleasant?" asked Squire Selwyn.

"I am sorry to say they are not," said John. "If they had been, I would not have troubled myself about the will. But I can see that Mrs. Oakley is determined to persecute me, and make my life unhappy, and that she is determined not to carry out any of my father's plans about my education. She has already taken away my horse, and sold it. She intended to give it to Ben, but he had an unlucky adventure with it one afternoon."

"I heard of that," said the lawyer, smiling. "He got thrown, didn't he?"

"Yes, sir. That cured him of wanting to ride, and so the horse was sold."

"It was a present to you from your father, was it not?"

"Yes, sir. Ben received at the same time a gold watch, which he still has."

"That seems hardly fair. One question more: Have you any knowledge of any secret drawer in your father's desk, or in any article which he used to own?"

"No, sir."

"I suppose not. If there had been one, he would hardly have disclosed its whereabouts to a boy. Well, my young friend," said the lawyer, rising, as if to terminate the interview, "I am glad to have received this call from you. I regard your information as important. It strengthens the conviction which I before entertained, that your father's last will is in existence somewhere. Out of regard to your interests, as well as to carry out his last wishes, I sincerely hope that it may be found. But I need not tell you that in the present position of affairs the greatest caution is absolutely necessary. I am not prepared to advise you at present, but shall take your case under my most serious consideration."

John took his cap and books, and Squire Selwyn accompanied him to the door of the office. As they stood on the threshold, an open wagon drove by. Both looked up simultaneously, and an expression of vexation swept over the lawyer's face as he recognized Mrs. Oakley and her brother. Mrs. Oakley's eye lighted up as it rested upon John.

"He is getting dangerous," she thought. "It is well I am going to be rid of him."

CHAPTER XII.

AN UNEXPECTED JOURNEY

John could not help wondering what inference Mrs. Oakley would draw from seeing him in consultation with the lawyer. He anticipated that it would arouse her suspicions, and lead to his being treated with greater coldness and harshness than ever. It was with considerable surprise, therefore, that on presenting himself at the supper-table he received a very pleasant greeting from his stepmother. She made no allusion to having met him, but, in her conversation with her brother, asked two or three questions of John, in an easy way, as if the relations between them were perfectly cordial. Ben glanced at his mother once or twice in surprise, for she had not seen fit to take him into her confidence, and he did not understand what this sudden cordiality meant. John, who had usually been excluded from any share in the conversation, was not only surprised, but pleased, and hoped that the change would be permanent. His resentment was not lasting, and he was prepared to respond to his stepmother's advances. Mr. Huxter's conduct puzzled him a little. That gentleman seemed disposed to be quite affable and social.

"I hope, Mr. Oakley, you and Benjamin will some time favor me with a visit at my humble home. I cannot promise you as good accommodations as you have at home, but I shall be very glad to see you—very."

"Thank you, sir," said John.

Ben, who was not remarkable for politeness, did not deign a word in reply to his uncle's invitation.

In spite of Mr. Huxter's not very prepossessing exterior John began to think him quite a pleasant man, and felt obliged to him for his invitation, though he felt no particular desire to accept it.

After supper was over, Mr. Huxter turned to John:—

"I am going out on the door-step to smoke my pipe. I suppose you don't smoke?"

"No, sir," said John.

"I was going to ask you to join me; but of course you don't smoke. It isn't good for boys. Do you smoke, Ben?"

"I don't smoke a pipe," said Ben, glancing with some disgust at the clay pipe, the bowl of which his uncle was filling.

"I suppose you, being a young gentleman, smoke cigars. They are more aristocratic. But I'm a poor man, and I can't afford them. Well, if you'll get your cigar, we'll have a social smoke together."

"I've got an engagement," said Ben, not very graciously, and, putting on his hat, he stalked off.

"He's an impudent puppy," said Mr. Huxter to himself. "I wish I had the training of him for a little while. But I must put up with his insults, or lose all hope of help from my sister."

"Come home early, Benjamin," said his mother.

"Oh, you needn't sit up for me. You go to bed so precious early it doesn't give me any evening at all."

Mrs. Oakley followed him with her eyes a little uneasily. While Mr. Oakley was alive Ben kept pretty straight, for he stood somewhat in awe of his stepfather; but since his death he had shown a disposition to have his own way, and his mother's wishes weighed very little with him. She could not help feeling that the boy in whom her dearest hopes centred, and for whom she was willing even to wrong another, manifested very little gratitude for her devotion to him. John, whom she charged with lack of respect, treated her at all times much more respectfully than her own son. But Mrs. Oakley was prejudiced, and would not see this. She shut her eyes alike to John's merits and Ben's faults, and the latter took his own way, spending the evening in the bar-room and billiard saloon, and learning much that he ought not to have learned.

About half-past nine in the evening, when John was studying his lesson in "Xenophon's Anabasis," he heard a low knock at the door. Supposing it to be one of the servants, he said, carelessly, "Come in!"

Looking up, as the door opened, he was not a little surprised at the entrance of his stepmother. With the instincts of a young gentleman, he rose hastily, and, drawing a chair, said:—

"Won't you sit down, Mrs. Oakley?"

"Thank you, John," said his stepmother; "I will sit down a moment. You are studying, I suppose."

"Yes, I was preparing my Greek lesson for to-morrow."

John tried not to look surprised, but he wondered very much what should have led to a call from Mrs. Oakley, especially at so late an hour.