Cast Upon the Breakers

CHAPTER XXIV

A CHANGE OF SCENE

“Now,” said Mr. Pettigrew, when they were sitting side by side on the upper deck of the Puritan, the magnificent steamer on the Fall River line. “I want you to consent to a little plan that will mystify my old friends and neighbors.”

“What is it, Mr. Pettigrew?”

“I have never written home about my good fortune; so far as they know I am no better off than when I went away.”

“I don’t think I could have concealed my success.”

“It may seem strange, but I’ll explain—I want to learn who are my friends and who are not. I am afraid I wasn’t very highly thought of when I left Burton. I was considered rather shiftless.

“I was always in for a good time, and never saved a cent. Everybody predicted that I would fail, and I expect most wanted me to fail. There were two or three, including my uncle, aunt and the friend who lent me money, who wished me well.

“I mustn’t forget to mention the old minister who baptized me when I was an infant. The good old man has been preaching thirty or forty years on a salary of four hundred dollars, and has had to run a small farm to make both ends meet. He believed in me and gave me good advice. Outside of these I don’t remember any one who felt an interest in Jefferson Pettigrew.”

“You will have the satisfaction of letting them see that they did not do you justice.”

“Yes, but I may not tell them—that is none except my true friends. If I did, they would hover round me and want to borrow money, or get me to take them out West with me. So I have hit upon a plan. I shall want to use money, but I will pretend it is yours.”

Rodney opened his eyes in surprise.

“I will pass you off as a rich friend from New York, who feels an interest in me and is willing to help me.”

Rodney smiled.

“I don’t know if I can look the character,” he said.

“Oh yes you can. You are nicely dressed, while I am hardly any better dressed than when I left Burton.”

“I have wondered why you didn’t buy some new clothes when you were able to afford it.”

“You see we Western miners don’t care much for style, perhaps not enough. Still I probably shall buy a suit or two, but not till I have made my visit home. I want to see how people will receive me, when they think I haven’t got much money. I shall own up to about five hundred dollars, but that isn’t enough to dazzle people even in a small country village.”

“I am wiling to help you in any way you wish, Mr. Pettigrew.”

“Then I think we shall get some amusement out of it. I shall represent you as worth about a hundred thousand dollars.”

“I wish I were.”

“Very likely you will be some time if you go out to Montana with me.”

“How large a place is Burton?”

“It has not quite a thousand inhabitants. It is set among the hills, and has but one rich man, Lemuel Sheldon, who is worth perhaps fifty thousand dollars, but put on the airs of a millionaire.”

“You are as rich as he, then.”

“Yes, and shall soon be richer. However, I don’t want him to know it. It is he who holds the mortgage on my uncle’s farm.”

“Do you know how large the mortgage is?”

“It is twelve hundred dollars. I shall borrow the money of you to pay it.”

“I understand,” said Rodney, smiling.

“I shall enjoy the way the old man will look down upon me very much as a millionaire looks down upon a town pauper.”

“How will he look upon me?”

“He will be very polite to you, for he will think you richer than himself.”

“On the whole, we are going to act a comedy, Mr. Pettigrew. What is the name of the man who lent you money to go to Montana?”

“A young carpenter, Frank Dobson. He lent me a hundred dollars, which was about all the money he had saved up.”

“He was a true friend.”

“You are right. He was. Everybody told Frank that he would never see his money again, but he did. As soon as I could get together enough to repay him I sent it on, though I remember it left me with less than ten dollars in my pocket.

“I couldn’t bear to think that Frank would lose anything by me. You see we were chums at school and always stood by each other. He is married and has two children.”

“While you are an old bachelor.”

“Yes; I ain’t in a hurry to travel in double harness. I’ll wait till I am ready to leave Montana, with money enough to live handsomely at home.”

“You have got enough now.”

“But I may as well get more. I am only thirty years old, and I can afford to work a few years longer.”

“I wish I could be sure of being worth fifty thousand dollars when I am your age.”

“You have been worth that, you tell me.”

“Yes, but I should value more money that I had made myself.”

Above five o’clock on Monday afternoon Mr. Pettigrew and Rodney reached Burton. It was a small village about four miles from the nearest railway station. An old fashioned Concord stage connected Burton with the railway. The driver was on the platform looking out for passengers when Jefferson Pettigrew stepped out of the car.

“How are you, Hector?” said the miner, in an off hand way.

“Why, bless my soul if it isn’t Jeff!” exclaimed the driver, who had been an old schoolmate of Mr. Pettigrew’s.

“I reckon it is,” said the miner, his face lighting up with the satisfaction he felt at seeing a home face.

“Why, you ain’t changed a mite, Jeff. You look just as you did when you went away. How long have you been gone?”

“Four years!”

“Made a fortune? But you don’t look like it. That’s the same suit you wore when you went away, isn’t it?”

Mr. Pettigrew laughed.

“Well no, it isn’t the same, but it’s one of the same kind.”

“I thought maybe you’d come home in a dress suit.”

“It isn’t so easy to make a fortune, Hector.”

“But you have made something, ain’t you?”

“Oh, yes, when I went away I hadn’t a cent except what I borrowed. Now I’ve got five hundred dollars.”

“That ain’t much.”

“No, but it’s better than nothing. How much more have you got, Hector?”

“Well, you see I married last year. I haven’t had a chance to lay by.”

“So you see I did as well as if I had stayed at home.”

“Are you going to stay home now?”

“For a little while. I may go back to Montana after a bit.”

“Is it a good place to make money?”

“I made five hundred dollars.”

“Thats only a little more than a hundred dollars a year. Frank Dobson has saved as much as that and he’s stayed right here in Burton.”

“I’m glad of that,” said Pettigrew heartily. “Frank is a rousing good fellow. If it hadn’t been for him I couldn’t have gone to Montana.”

“It doesn’t seem to have done you much good, as I can see.”

“Oh, well, I am satisfied. Let me introduce my friend, Mr. Rodney Ropes of New York.”

“Glad to meet you,” said Hector with a jerk of the head.

“Rodney, won’t you sit inside? I want to sit outide with Hector.”

“All right, Mr. Pettigrew.”

“Who is that boy?” asked Hector with characteristic Yankee curiosity, as he seized the lines and started the horses.

“A rich young fellow from New York. I got acquainted with him there.”

“Rich is he?” Jefferson Pettigrew nodded.

“How rich do you think?”

“Shouldn’t wonder if he might be worth a hundred thousand.”

“You don’t say! Why, he beat Squire Sheldon.”

“Oh, yes, Squire Sheldon wouldn’t be considered rich in New York.”

“How did he get his money?”

“His father left him a fortune.”

“Is that so? I wish my father had left me a fortune.”

“He did, didn’t he?”

“Yes, he did! When his estate was settled I got seventy five dollars, if you call that a fortune. But I say, what brings the boy to Burton?”

“His friendship for me, I expect. Besides he may invest in a place.”

“There’s the old Morse place for sale. Do you think he’d buy that?”

“It wouldn’t be nice enough for him. I don’t know any place that would be good enough except the squire’s.”

“The squire wouldn’t sell.”

“Oh, well, I don’t know as Rodney would care to locate in Burton.”

“You’re in luck to get such a friend. Say, do you think he would lend you a hundred dollars if you were hard up?”

“I know he would. By the way, Hector, is there any news? How is my uncle?”

“I think the old man is worrying on account of his mortgage.”

“Who holds it?”

“The squire. They do say he is goin’ to foreclose. That’ll be bad for the old man. It’ll nigh about break his heart I expect.”

“Can’t uncle raise the money to pay him?”

“Who is there round here who has got any money except the squire?”

“That’s so.”

“Where are you goin’ to stop, Jeff?”

“I guess I’ll stop at the tavern tonight, but I’ll go over and call on uncle this evening.”

CHAPTER XXV

JEFFERSON PETTIGREW’S HOME

News spreads fast in a country village. Scarcely an hour had passed when it was generally known that Jefferson Pettigrew had come home from Montana with a few hundred dollars in money, bringing with him a rich boy who could buy out all Burton. At least that is the way the report ran.

When the two new arrivals had finished supper and come out on the hotel veranda there were a dozen of Jefferson Pettigrew’s friends ready to welcome him.

“How are you, Jefferson, old boy?” said one and another.

“Pretty well, thank you. It seems good to be home.”

“I hear you’ve brought back some money.”

“Yes, a few hundred dollars.”

“That’s better than nothing. I reckon you’ll stay home now.”

“I can’t afford it, boys.”

“Are ye goin’ back to Montany?”

“Yes. I know the country, and I can make a middlin’ good livin’ there.”

“I say, is that boy thats with you as rich as they say?”

“I don’t know what they say.”

“They say he’s worth a million.”

“Oh no, not so much as that. He’s pretty well fixed.”

“Hasn’t he got a father livin’?”

“No, it’s his father that left the money.”

“How did you happen to get in with him?”

“Oh, we met promiscuous. He took a sort of fancy to me, and that’s the way of it.”

“Do you expect to keep him with you?”

“He talks of goin’ back to Montana with me. I’ll be sort of guardian to him.”

“You’re in luck, Jeff.”

“Yes, I’m in luck to have pleasant company. Maybe we’ll join together and buy a mine.”

“Would you mind introducin’ him?”

“Not at all,” and thus Rodney became acquainted with quite a number of the Burton young men. He was amused to see with what deference they treated him, but preserved a sober face and treated all cordially, so that he made a favorable impression on those he met.

Among those who made it in their way to call on the two travelers was Lemuel Sheldon, the rich man of the village.

“How do you do, Jefferson?” he said condescendingly.

“Very well, sir.”

“You have been quite a traveler.”

“Yes, sir; I have been to the far West.”

“And met with some success, I am told.”

“Yes, sir; I raised money enough to get home.”

“I hear you brought home a few hundred dollars.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Oh, well,” said the squire patronizingly, “that’s good beginning.”

“It must seem very little to a rich man like you, squire.”

“Oh, no!” said the squire patronizingly. “You are a young man. I shouldn’t wonder if by the time you get as old as I am you might be worth five thousand dollars.”

“I hope so,” answered Mr. Pettigrew demurely.

“By the way, you have brought a young man with you, I am told.”

“Yes.”

“I should like to make his acquaintance. He is rich, is he not?”

“I wish I was as rich.”

“You don’t say so! About how much do you estimate he is worth?”

“I don’t think it amounts to quite as much as a quarter of a million. Still, you know it is not always easy to tell how much a person is worth.”

“He is certainly a VERY fortunate young man,” said the squire, impressed. “What is his name?”

“Rodney Ropes.”

“The name sounds aristocratic. I shall be glad to know him.”

“Rodney,” said Mr. Pettigrew. “I want to introduce you to Squire Sheldon, our richest and most prominent citizen.”

“I am glad to meet you, Squire Sheldon,” said Rodney, offering his hand.

“I quite reciprocate the feeling, Mr. Ropes, but Mr. Pettigrew should not call me a rich man. I am worth something, to be sure.”

“I should say you were, squire,” said Jefferson. “Rodney, he is as rich as you are.”

“Oh no,” returned the squire, modestly, “not as rich as that. Indeed, I hardly know how much I am worth. As Mr. Pettigrew very justly observed it is not easy to gauge a man’s possessions. But there is one difference between us. You, Mr. Ropes, I take it, are not over eighteen.”

“Only sixteen, sir.”

“And yet you are wealthy. I am rising fifty. When you come to my age you will be worth much more.”

“Perhaps I may have lost all I now possess,” said Rodney. “Within a year I have lost fifty thousand dollars.”

“You don’t say so.”

“Yes; it was through a man who had charge of my property. I think now I shall manage my money matters myself.”

“Doubtless you are right. That was certainly a heavy loss. I shouldn’t like to lose so much. I suppose, however, you had something left?”

“Oh yes,” answered Rodney in an indifferent tone.

“He must be rich to make so little account of fifty thousand dollars,” thought the squire.

“How long do you propose to stay in town, Mr. Pettigrew?” he asked.

“I can’t tell, sir, but I don’t think I can spare more than three or four days.”

“May I hope that you and Mr. Ropes will take supper with me tomorrow evening?”

“Say the next day and we’ll come. Tomorrow I must go to my uncle’s.”

“Oh very well!”

Squire Sheldon privately resolved to pump Rodney as to the investment of his property. He was curious to learn first how much the boy was worth, for if there was anything that the squire worshiped it was wealth. He was glad to find that Mr. Pettigrew had only brought home five hundred dollars, as it was not enough to lift the mortgage on his uncle’s farm.

After they were left alone Jefferson Pettigrew turned to Rodney and said, “Do you mind my leaving you a short time and calling at my uncle’s?”

“Not at all, Mr. Pettigrew. I can pass my time very well.”

Jefferson Pettigrew directed his steps to an old fashioned farmhouse about half a mile from the village. In the rear the roof sloped down so that the eaves were only five feet from the ground. The house was large though the rooms were few in number.

In the sitting room sat an old man and his wife, who was nearly as old. It was not a picture of cheerful old age, for each looked sad. The sadness of old age is pathetic for there is an absence of hope, and courage, such as younger people are apt to feel even when they are weighed down by trouble.

Cyrus Hooper was seventy one, his wife two years younger. During the greater part of their lives they had been well to do, if not prosperous, but now their money was gone, and there was a mortgage on the old home which they could not pay.

“I don’t know whats goin’ to become of us, Nancy,” said Cyrus Hooper. “We’ll have to leave the old home, and when the farm’s been sold there won’t be much left over and above the mortgage which Louis Sheldon holds.”

“Don’t you think the squire will give you a little more time, Cyrus?”

“No; I saw him yesterday, and he’s sot on buyin’ in the farm for himself. He reckons it won’t fetch more’n eighteen hundred dollars.”

“Thats only six hundred over the mortgage.”

“It isn’t that Nancy. There’s about a hundred dollars due in interest. We won’t get more’n five hundred dollars.”

“Surely, Cyrus, the farm is worth three thousand dollars.”

“So it is, Nancy, but that won’t do us any good, as long as no one wants it more’n the squire.”

“I wish Jefferson were at home.”

“What good would it do? I surmise he hasn’t made any money. He never did have much enterprise, that boy.”

“He was allus a good boy, Cyrus.”

“That’s so, Nancy, but he didn’t seem cut out for makin’ money. Still it would do me good to see him. Maybe we might have a home together, and manage to live.”

Just then a neighbor entered.

“Have you heard the news?” she asked.

“No; what is it?”

“Your nephew Jefferson Pettigrew has got back.”

“You don’t mean so. There, Jefferson, that’s one comfort.”

“And they say he has brought home five hundred dollars.”

“That’s more’n I thought he’d bring. Where is he?”

“Over at the tavern. He’s brought a young man with him, leastways a boy, that’s got a lot of money.”

“The boy?”

“Yes; he’s from New York, and is a friend of Jefferson’s.”

“Well, I’m glad he’s back. Why didn’t he come here?”

“It’s likely he would if the boy wasn’t with him.”

“Perhaps he heard of my misfortune.”

“I hope it’ll all come right, Mr. Hooper. My, if there ain’t Jefferson comin’ to see you now. I see him through the winder. I guess I’ll be goin’. You’ll want to see him alone.”

CHAPTER XXVI

THE BOY CAPITALIST

“How are you, Uncle Cyrus?” said Jefferson Pettigrew heartily, as he clasped his uncle’s toil worn hand. “And Aunt Nancy, too! It pays me for coming all the way from Montana just to see you.”

“I’m glad to see you, Jefferson,” said his uncle. “It seems a long time since you went away. I hope you’ve prospered.”

“Well, uncle, I’ve brought myself back well and hearty, and I’ve got a few hundred dollars.”

“I’m glad to hear it, Jefferson. You’re better off than when you went away.”

“Yes, uncle. I couldn’t be much worse off. Then I hadn’t a cent that I could call my own. But how are you and Aunt Nancy?”

“We’re gettin’ old, Jefferson, and misfortune has come to us. Squire Sheldon has got a mortgage on the farm and it’s likely we’ll be turned out. You’ve come just in time to see it.”

“Is it so bad as that, Uncle Cyrus? Why, when I went away you were prosperous.”

“Yes, Jefferson, I owned the farm clear, and I had money in the bank, but now the money’s gone and there’s a twelve hundred dollar mortgage on the old place,” and the old man sighed.

“But how did it come about uncle? You and Aunt Nancy haven’t lived extravagantly, have you? Aunt Nancy, you haven’t run up a big bill at the milliner’s and dressmaker’s?”

“You was always for jokin’, Jefferson,” said the old lady, smiling faintly; “but that is not the way our losses came.”

“How then?”

“You see I indorsed notes for Sam Sherman over at Canton, and he failed, and I had to pay, then I bought some wild cat minin’ stock on Sam’s recommendation, and that went down to nothin’. So between the two I lost about three thousand dollars. I’ve been a fool, Jefferson, and it would have been money in my pocket if I’d had a guardeen.”

“So you mortgaged the place to Squire Sheldon, uncle?”

“Yes; I had to. I was obliged to meet my notes.”

“But surely the squire will extend the mortgage.”

“No, he won’t. I’ve asked him. He says he must call in the money, and so the old place will have to be sold, and Nancy and I must turn out in our old age.”

Again the old man sighed, and tears came into Nancy Hooper’s eyes.

“There’ll be something left, won’t there, Uncle Cyrus?”

“Yes, the place should bring six hundred dollars over and above the mortgage. That’s little enough, for it’s worth three thousand.”

“So it is, Uncle Cyrus. But what can you do with six hundred dollars? It won’t support you and Aunt Nancy?”

“I thought mebbe, Jefferson, I could hire a small house and you could board with us, so that we could still have a home together.”

“I’ll think it over, uncle, if there is no other way. But are you sure Squire Sheldon won’t give you more time?”

“No, Jefferson. I surmise he wants the place himself. There’s talk of a railroad from Sherborn, and that’ll raise the price of land right around here. It’ll probably go right through the farm just south of the three acre lot.”

“I see, Uncle Cyrus. You ought to have the benefit of the rise in value.”

“Yes, Jefferson, it would probably rise enough to pay off the mortgage, but its no use thinkin’ of it. The old farm has got to go.”

“I don’t know about that, Uncle Cyrus.”

“Why, Jefferson, you haven’t money enough to lift the mortgage!” said the old man, with faint hope.

“If I haven’t I may get it for you. Tell me just how much money is required.”

“Thirteen hundred dollars, includin’ interest.”

“Perhaps you have heard that I have a boy with me—a boy from New York, named Rodney Ropes. He has money, and perhaps I might get him to advance the sum you want.”

“Oh, Jefferson, if you only could!” exclaimed Aunt Nancy, clasping her thin hands. “It would make us very happy.”

“I’ll see Rodney tonight and come over tomorrow morning and tell you what he says. On account of the railroad I shall tell him that it is a good investment. I suppose you will be willing to mortgage the farm to him for the same money that he pays to lift the present mortgage?”

“Yes, Jefferson, I’ll be willin’ and glad. It’ll lift a great burden from my shoulders. I’ve been worryin’ at the sorrow I’ve brought upon poor Nancy, for she had nothing to do with my foolish actions. I was old enough to know better, Jefferson, and I’m ashamed of what I did.”

“Well, Uncle Cyrus, I’ll do what I can for you. Now let us forget all about your troubles and talk over the village news. You know I’ve been away for four years, and I haven’t had any stiddy correspondence, so a good deal must have happened that I don’t know anything about. I hear Frank Dobson has prospered?”

“Yes, Frank’s pretty forehanded. He’s got a good economical wife, and they’ve laid away five or six hundred dollars in the savings bank.”

“I am glad of it. Frank is a good fellow. If it hadn’t been for him I couldn’t have gone to Montana. When he lent me the money everybody said he’d lose it, but I was bound to pay it if I had to live on one meal a day. He was the only man in town who believed in me at that time.”

“You was a littless shif’less, Jefferson. You can’t blame people. I wasn’t quite sure myself how you’d get along.”

“No doubt you are right, Uncle Cyrus. It did me good to leave town. I didn’t drink, but I had no ambition. When a man goes to a new country it’s apt to make a new man of him. That was the case with me.”

“Are you goin’ back again, Jefferson?”

“Yes, uncle. I’m going to stay round here long enough to fix up your affairs and get you out of your trouble. Then I’ll go back to the West. I have a little mining interest there and I can make more money there than I can here.”

“If you can get me out of my trouble, Jefferson, I’ll never forget it. Nancy and I have been so worried that we couldn’t sleep nights, but now I’m beginnin’ to be a little more cheerful.”

Jefferson Pettigrew spent another hour at his uncle’s house, and then went back to the tavern, where he found Rodney waiting for him. He explained briefly the part he wished his boy friend to take in his plan for relieving his uncle.

“I shall be receiving credit to which I am not entitled,” said Rodney. “Still, if it will oblige you I am willing to play the part of the boy capitalist.”

The next morning after breakfast the two friends walked over to the house of Cyrus Hooper. Aunt Nancy came to the door and gave them a cordial welcome.