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Chester Rand; or, The New Path to Fortune, a fiction by Horatio Alger |
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Chapter 34. After A Year |
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_ CHAPTER XXXIV. AFTER A YEAR A year passed. Chester remained in the service of _The Phoenix_, which had become an established success. His artistic work was so satisfactory that his salary had been raised from twenty-five to thirty dollars per week. Yet he had not increased his personal expenses, and now had nearly a thousand dollars deposited in different savings banks. He had concealed the extent of his prosperity from his mother, meaning in time to surprise her agreeably. About this period he received a letter from Wyncombe. It was from his mother. It ran thus: "DEAR CHESTER: I am sorry to write you bad news. Miss Jane Dolby has decided to visit a sister in Chicago and remain a year. Of course this cuts off the liberal income I have received from her, and which has been adequate to meet my expenses. I may be able to earn something by sewing, but it will be only a little. I shall, therefore, have to accept the offer you made me sometime since to send me a weekly sum. I am sorry to be a burden to you, but it will only be for a year. At the end of that time Miss Dolby promises to come back and resume boarding with me. "I think we have reason to feel grateful for your continued success in New York. Silas Tripp called a few evenings since. He has had a great deal of trouble with boys. He says he has not had anyone to suit him since you left. He asked me if I thought you would come back for four dollars a week. This he seemed to consider a very liberal offer, and it was--for him. I didn't give him any encouragement, as I presume you prefer art to the grocery business. "You need not begin to send me money, at once, as I have been able to save a little from Miss Dolby's board. "Your affectionate mother, "SARAH RAND."
"DEAR MOTHER: Don't feel any anxiety about your loss of income through Miss Dolby's departure, and don't try to earn any money by sewing. My income is larger than you suppose, and I will send you weekly as much as you have been accustomed to receive from your boarder. Should it be more than you need, you can lay aside any surplus for future use. "Tell Mr. Tripp I prefer New York to Wyncombe as a place of business, and I am obliged to decline his generous offer. I cannot help thinking sometimes how fortunate it was that he declined over a year since to increase my pay, as in that case I might still have been working for him instead of establishing a reputation as an artist here. Last week I received a larger offer from another publication, but as the publishers of _The Phoenix_ have always treated me well, I didn't think that I would be justified in making a change. I mean in a week or two to come home to pass Sunday. I shall feel delighted to see my friends in Wyncombe, and most of all, my mother. "Your loving son, CHESTER ." Mrs. Rand protested against Chester sending her eight dollars a week, but he insisted upon it, advising her to lay aside what she did not need. One evening about this time Edward Granger, who still occupied the small apartment adjoining, came into Chester's room, looking agitated. "What is the matter?" asked Chester. "Have you had bad news?" "Yes; I have had a letter from Mr. Wilson, of Portland, whom you recollect we met about a year ago." "I remember him." "I will read you his letter. You will see that I have reason to feel anxious." The letter ran as follows: "DEAR EDWARD: I promised to send you any news I might pick up about your mother and her premising husband. Trimble is indulging in liquor more than ever, and I don't see how he can stand it unless he has a castiron constitution. From what I hear he has never given up trying to get your mother's property into his hands. She has held out pretty firm, but she may yield yet. I hear that he is circulating reports that you are dead. In that case he thinks she may be induced to make a will leaving her property to Mr. Trimble; having, as I believe, no near relatives, so that he would seem to be the natural heir. "I may be doing Trimble an injustice, but I think if such a will were made she wouldn't live long. Your stepfather is in great straits for money, it seems, and he might be tempted to do something desperate. As far as I can hear, Abner Trimble's plan is this: He took a pal of his around to the house who had been in New York recently, and the latter gave a circumstantial account of your dying with typhoid fever. Evidently your mother believed it, for she seemed quite broken down and has aged considerably since the news. No doubt her husband will seize this opportunity to induce her to make a will in his favor. Here lies the danger; and I think I ought to warn you of it, for your presence here is needed to defeat your stepfather's wicked plans. Come out at once, if you can. "Your friend, "NATHANIEL WILSON." "What do you think of that, Chester?" asked Edward, in a troubled voice. "I think it very important. Your mother's life and your interests both are in peril." "And the worst of it is that I am helpless," said Edward, sadly. "I ought to go out there, but you know how small my salary is. It has required the utmost economy to live, and I haven't as much as five dollars saved up. How can I make such a long and costly journey?" "I see the difficulty, Edward, but I need time to think it over. To-morrow afternoon come in and I may have some advice to give you." "I know that you will advise me for the best, Chester." "There is a good deal in age and experience," said Chester, smiling. When Edward left the room Chester took from his pocket a letter received the day previous, and postmarked Tacoma. It was to this effect: "MR. CHESTER RAND. "DEAR SIR: We learn that you own five lots on Main Street, numbered from 201 to 205. We have inquiries as to three of those lots as a location for a new hotel, which it is proposed to erect at an early date. We are, therefore, led to ask whether you are disposed to sell, and, if so, on what terms. We should be glad to have a personal interview with you, but if it is impracticable or inconvenient for you to come on to Tacoma we will undertake, as your agents, to carry on the negotiations.
The more Chester thought of this plan the more favorable it struck him. He went the next day to the office of _The Phoenix_, and after delivering his sketches, said: "I should like leave of absence for two months. Can you spare me?" "Does your health require it, Mr. Rand?" asked the editor. "No," answered Chester, "but I own a little property in Tacoma, and there are parties out there who wish to buy. It is important that I should go out there to attend to the matter." The editor arched his brows in astonishment. "What!" he said. "An artist, and own real estate? This is truly surprising." "I didn't earn it by my art," replied Chester, smiling. "It was a bequest." "That accounts for it. I suppose, under the circumstances, we must let you go; but why need you give up your work? Probably ideas and suggestions may come to you while you are traveling. These you can send to us by mail." "But I can't do enough to earn the salary you pay me." "Then we will pay according to the amount you do." "That will be satisfactory." "Do you need an advance for the expenses of your journey?" "No; I have some money laid by." "Another surprise! When do you want to start?" "As soon as possible. I will not come to the office again." "Then good luck and a pleasant journey." When Edward Granger came into his room later in the day, Chester said: "Day after to-morrow we start for Oregon. Ask your employers to hold your place for you, and get ready at once." "But the money, Chester?" gasped Edward. "I will advance it to you, and you shall repay me when you can." _ |
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