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

“I turn off here,” he said. “That is our house.”

“Is it?” said Cameron, indifferently.

“Your friend seems to have a very vain idea of his high position,” said Cameron, when James was out of hearing.

“And a very low idea of mine,” added Herbert.

“Does that disturb you?”

“A little. He carries it so far as to be annoying.”

“Circumstances may change with you both.”

“I hope they may with me,” said Herbert. “I don’t want James to come down in the world, but I hope to rise.”

The next day Cameron was honored by a special call from Squire Leech, who left an invitation for the young collegian to take tea with him the following afternoon. This invitation Cameron accepted.

CHAPTER XXII

ANDREW TEMPLE

About half-past four o’clock one afternoon a tall, dark-complexioned man, wearing a white hat, inscribed his name in the register of the Wrayburn hotel.

“Can you tell here Mr. Leech lives?” he inquired of the landlord.

“He lives about a quarter of a mile from here. I can send some one with you to show you the house.”

Just then Herbert came downstairs from Mr. Cameron.

“Herbert,” said the landlord, “here is a gentleman wants to go to Squire Leech’s. Would you mind showing him the way?”

“I will do so with pleasure,” said our hero, politely. “Are you ready to go now, sir?”

“Yes,” said the stranger. “Landlord, please assign me a room and have my bag carried up.”

“All right, sir.”

“Now, my lad, I am ready. It isn’t far, is it?”

“About five minutes’ walk—that is all, sir.”

“I never was in Wrayburn—much going on here?”

“Not much, sir. It is a quiet town.”

“Mr. Leech—Squire Leech, I think you call him—was an old schoolmate of mine. We went to the Brandon Academy together. I suppose he is rich, eh?”

“He is the richest man in Wrayburn.”

“I am glad to hear it,” said the other, in a tone of satisfaction. “What do you think he is worth?”

“Some say a hundred thousand dollars.”

“Very good!” commented Andrew Temple, for this was his name in the hotel register—“for the country, I mean. In the city that wouldn’t make a rich man.”

“Wouldn’t it?” asked Herbert, who had supposed a man worth a hundred thousand dollars rich anywhere.

“No, to be sure not. It costs a great deal more to live. Why, I myself am worth something like that; but in New York nobody regards me as rich.”

“I should feel rich with ten thousand,” said Herbert.

“That would about pay my expenses for a year.”

“Squire Leech doesn’t spend anywhere near that. I don’t believe it costs him two thousand dollars a year.”

“Very likely. There’s a great deal of difference between the country and the city.”

“Is it easy to make money in the city?” asked Herbert.

“Yes, if a man is sharp and has some money to start with. Do you think of going there?”

“I am afraid it would be of no use. I have no money to start with, and I am afraid I am not smart.”

“Wait and I may give you a lift. Here’s my card.”

“Thank you, sir,” said Herbert, as he read: “Andrew Temple, No.—Nassau Street, Room 12.”

“That’s my office; I speculate in stocks.”

“Is that a good business?”

“Capital, if you know the ropes. If you ever come to the city, call at my office.”

“Thank you, sir. Here is Squire Leech’s house.”

“I am much obliged to you. Allow me to compensate you for your trouble”; and Mr. Temple thrust his thumb and forefinger into his vest pocket.

“Oh, no, sir, I don’t want pay,” said Herbert, hurriedly.

Mr. Temple had made the offer as a matter of form and was relieved to find it declined. He said “good-night” graciously and advanced to the front door.

“Is Squire Leech at home?” he inquired of the servant.

“Yes, sir; I believe so. Won’t you walk in?”

“Thank you. Please hand your master that card.”

Squire Leech did not recall Mr. Temple’s name, and greeted him distantly. Not so Mr. Temple. He rose, and shook the squire’s passive hand energetically.