Wait and Hope: or, A Plucky Boy's Luck

"You are very kind to an old man; what did you say your name was?"

"Ben Bradford."

"Have you parents living?"

"No, sir, only an aunt and cousin."

"Are they well off?"

"Not very, sir. They got along very comfortably till lately, but now something has happened which makes me feel anxious. But I won't trouble you with it, sir."

"Tell me about it; I would like to hear it."

"For five years my aunt has occupied a small house, rent free. It belonged to her uncle. She has just got a letter saying that her uncle is dead, and demanding payment of rent for the last five years."

"What are you going to do about it?"

"I have written to the lawyer, telling him on what terms my aunt occupied her house – that is, rent free, on condition that she paid the taxes regularly."

"What was the uncle's name? I am a little acquainted in Montreal.

Perhaps I may have heard it."

"His name was Matthew Baldwin."

"I have heard of him. He was a miserly old man."

"I don't know about that," said Ben.

"It seems to me you ought to look after the matter. Why don't you go to Montreal?"

"I can't spare the time or money," answered Ben. "Besides, we should certainly have heard of it if any property had been coming to us. I have written to the lawyer, and expect to hear something soon."

When they reached the boarding-house on Warren Avenue the old man appeared pleased with the vacant room. He haggled a little about the terms, but finally agreed to take it at the price set by Mrs. Draper. He gave his name as Marcus Benton, and too immediate possession.

Chapter XXXIII

Ben Receives a Commission

In due time a letter came from Montreal. It was brief and not overcourteous. From it Ben learned that Mr. Baldwin had been dead for three weeks, and that all his property was left to a young man who claimed to be a distant relative. The name of the heir was John Tremlett. The letter concluded: "I can find nothing in the papers of the deceased confirming your statement that your aunt was allowed to occupy her house rent free. If you hold any proof of your assertions, you may forward it. Otherwise Mr. Tremlett will insist upon his claim."

This letter reached Ben on a Friday. It naturally caused him anxiety. He obtained permission to go to Milltown Saturday afternoon and spend Sunday. He desired himself to institute a search for the letter of which his aunt had spoken.

His aunt received him in tearful despondency.

"Oh, what shall we do, Benjamin?" said the widow.

"First, we must search for that letter of Uncle Matthew's."

"I know I'm to blame, Benjamin. I have brought ruin upon you and my poor, innocent Tony."

"You haven't ruined me, so you need not trouble yourself about that.

Even if the letter cannot be found, I guess we shall live through it."

They hunted high and low; but the letter was not to be found. Ben was a good deal disappointed, but did not venture to say so, not wishing to increase his aunt's despondency. On Monday morning he went back to Boston, and told the bookkeeper.

"It seems quite desirable that you should go to Montreal, Ben," said young Porter.

"Of course that is out of the question, Mr. Porter."

"No; I think it can be managed."

Ben looked, as he felt, not a little surprised.

"It is some time," explained the bookkeeper, "since we sent an agent to Montreal. We have been thinking of sending some one up there, stopping at the principal towns on the way. You are rather young, but if I recommend you I presume my uncle will let you go."

Of course Mr. Porter, senior, had to be consulted. Though not a little doubtful about the expediency of sending so young a representative of the house, he finally gave his consent, which was communicated to Ben.

Ben was summoned to the countingroom, and received his instructions, with a sum of money for expenses. At three o'clock in the afternoon he was dismissed, though he was not to start till the next morning.

Old Mr. Benton's door was open when Ben returned.

"What brings you home so soon?" he inquired.

"I am going to Montreal," said Ben.

"Come in and tell me about it."

The old man, clad in a ragged dressing-gown, was sitting in a rocking-chair by the fire. The day was not cold, but his blood was thin, and he felt the need of some artificial heat. He was smoking a common clay pipe.

"Isn't this sudden – your going to Montreal?" asked Mr. Benton.

"Yes, sir; I think young Mr. Porter has made business there in order to give a chance to go?"

"What do you mean to do?"

"I shall attend first to the business of the firm, and then call on this lawyer, Mr. Brief."

"It is well thought of, and, Benjamin, try to get a chance to see the new heir, Mr. Tremlett, and find out what use he is making of his property."

"Yes, sir, I will."

"Have you money enough to pay your expenses, Benjamin?" asked the old man, rather hesitatingly.

"Oh, yes, sir; the firm provides for that."

"To be sure. Of course they ought to do it," said Mr. Benton, appearing to feel relieved.