A Cousin's Conspiracy: or, A Boy's Struggle for an Inheritance

“Yes, for the present. I suppose you know that you have a cousin about your own age. I used to know him and his father.”

“Did you? His father is dead.”

“So I have understood. Do you happen to know where the son is?”

“Somewhere out West, I think.”

Bolton pricked up his ears. So it seemed that Stephen Ray had deceived him.

“I would give five dollars to know where he is,” he said slowly.

“Have you got five dollars?” Clarence asked doubtfully.

By way of answer Bolton took a roll of bills from his pocket. They were those which Stephen Ray had given him.

“Do you mean it?” asked Clarence in a more respectful tone.

“Yes, I mean it.”

“Why didn’t you ask pa?”

“He never liked the boy nor his father, and I don’t think he would tell me.”

“That is true. He didn’t like either of them.”

“I suppose you couldn’t find out for me?”

“I don’t know but I could,” answered Clarence brusquely.

He had a special use for five dollars, and it struck him that he might just as well earn the money offered by the stranger.

“If you could I would cheerfully pay you the five dollars. You see I used to know Ernest Ray and his father, and I would be pleased to meet them again.”

“Just so,” said Clarence complacently. “How long are you going to remain in town?”

“I did think of going to Elmira to-night, but I think on the whole I will stay at the hotel here till to-morrow morning.”

“That will give me time to find out,” said Clarence.

“All right! You had better not ask your father, for I don’t think he would tell you.”

“That’s so. He will be going out this evening, and then I will search in his desk. I saw a letter there once in which the boy’s name was mentioned. But I say, if you’ve got money why don’t you buy some new clothes?”

“Your suggestion is a good one,” said Bolton, smiling. “Come to look at myself I do appear shabby. But then I’m no dude. I dare say when you rode into me this morning you took me for a tramp.”

“Well, you did look like one.”

“That’s so. I can’t blame you.”

“Shall I find you at the hotel this evening?”

“Yes.”

“Then I’ll see what I can do.”

About seven o’clock Squire Ray went out to attend to a business meeting, and Clarence was left in possession of the study. He locked the door, and began to ransack his father’s desk. At length he succeeded in his quest.

Benjamin Bolton was sitting in the public-room of the hotel an hour later, smoking a cigar, and from time to time looking toward the door. Presently Clarence entered.

“Have you got it?” asked Bolton eagerly.

“Yes,” nodded Clarence.

He took a piece of paper from his vest pocket and handed it to Bolton.

It read thus: “Ernest Ray, Oak Forks, Iowa.”

“How did you get it?” asked Bolton.

“I found a letter in pa’s desk from an old man named Peter Brant, asking pa for some money for the boy, who was living with him.”

“When was that letter written?”

“About two years ago.”

“Thank you. This gives me a clue. Come out of doors and I will give you what I promised. It isn’t best that anyone should think we had dealings together.”

Five minutes later Clarence started for home, happy in the possession of a five-dollar bill.

“I never paid any money more cheerfully in my life,” mused Bolton. “Now I must find the boy!”

CHAPTER XXVII

OREVILLE

When Ernest and Luke Robbins started for California, they had no very definite plans as to the future. But they found among their fellow passengers a man who was just returning from the East, where he had been to visit his family. He was a practical and successful miner, and was by no means reluctant to speak of his success.

“When I landed in ’Frisco,” he said, “two years ago, I had just forty dollars left after paying the expenses of my trip. I couldn’t find anything to do in the city, so I set out for the mines.”

“Where did you go?” asked Luke, becoming interested.

“To Oreville. At least, that’s what they call it now. Then it didn’t have a name.”

“I hope you prospered,” said Ernest.

“Well, not just at first, but luck came after a while. When I reached the mines I was dead broke, and went to work for somebody else. After a while I staked out a claim for myself. Well, I won’t go into particulars, but I’ve got six thousand dollars salted down with a trust company in ’Frisco, and I’ve got a few hundred dollars about my clothes besides.”

“That’s the place for us, Ernest,” said Luke.