Herbert Carter's Legacy; Or, the Inventor's Son by Jr. Horatio Alger (top reads .TXT) 📕

When Herbert reached the hotel he went up at once to Mr. Cameron's room.

“I believe I am a little late,” he said, apologetically; “but I was detained at home by a matter of business.”

“You are young to have your time occupied by matters of business,” said the young man, smiling.

“Yes, if my father were alive it would not devolve upon me, but my mother generally consults with me.”

“I hope your business was arranged satisfactorily.”

“Yes, but it came near turning out otherwise. I would like to tell you about it.”

“Do so,” said Mr. Cameron, kindly. “I shall be interested in whatever affects you.”

Herbert gave an account of Squire Leech's attempts to get possession of their cottage.

“But for that letter of Aunt Nancy's,” he concluded, “we should have been obliged to part with our house.”

“For the paltry sum of twenty-two dollars and a half?”

“It wasn't paltry to us.”

“No, to be sure. Why didn't you tell me this morning? I would have lent you the money.”

“You would?” exclaimed Herbert.

“With pleasure.”

“Thank you, Mr. Cameron,” said our hero; “but I shouldn't have dared to ask such a favor of a stranger.”

“I must tell you that this Squire Leech has probably taken advantage of your ignorance of business. I don't know exactly how the law is in this State, but I presume that, so far from the squire being authorized to take immediate possession of your place, he would be obliged to give legal notice of sale, on foreclosure of mortgage, by advertisement in some weekly paper. This would allow of sale at auction to the highest bidder.”

“I didn't know that; I supposed the squire could order us out immediately and take possession.”

“Squire Leech certainly knew better than that, but he evidently wanted to frighten your mother into selling to him at a sacrifice.”

“That was mean,” said Herbert, indignantly, “and he a rich man, too.”

“I quite agree with you,” said Mr. Cameron. “If you have any further difficulty with this grasping capitalist, come to me and I will give you the best advice I can.”

“I will, Mr. Cameron, and thank you for your advice. You have relieved my mind. I will tell mother what you say. What would you like to have me read first?”

“We will put off the reading for a short time. I want to ask you a few more questions about yourself, not out of curiosity, but because I may, if I understand your circumstances, some time have it in my power to serve you.”

“Thank you, sir. I shall be very glad to tell you anything. I was afraid you would not feel interested.”

“You are my private secretary now and that insures my interest. How long since did your father die?”

“A little over a year.”

“What was his business?”

“When he was a young man he was employed in a manufactory near Providence, but the confinement injured his health and he learned the carpenter's trade.”

“I shouldn't think there would be much for a carpenter to do in a small village like this.”

“My father managed to make a comfortable living but that was all. At the time he died, he considered that our house was mortgaged for only half its value, but Squire Leech thinks otherwise.”

“Squire Leech wants to get possession of your place. So that was all your father was able to leave you?”

“No, not quite all; there was something else which father seemed to think was worth something, but I am afraid it will never do us any good.”

“What is that?” asked Mr. Cameron.

“He was at work in his leisure for the last two years of his life on an invention.”

“An invention! Of what nature?”

“You know I told you he was employed in a cotton manufactory when a young man. This made him familiar with spinning and weaving. He thought he could make an improvement in some of the machinery used and he worked out his idea in a wooden model.”

“Have you the model?” asked Cameron, with interest.

“Yes, sir, and also a written paper describing the invention. A few days before he died father called me to his bedside and told me that he wanted me some day to show his invention to a manufacturer and get his opinion of it. He said that he hoped some time it would be a source of profit to mother and myself.”

“Have you ever done as he advised?” asked Cameron.

“I have never had opportunity. There is no manufacturing town near here and I cannot afford to travel.”

“I am myself the son of a cotton manufacturer,” said Cameron, “and, though I have never been employed in the business, I have from my boyhood been accustomed to visit my father's factory. My opinion may be worth something, therefore. If you