The Store Boy by Jr. Horatio Alger (romantic novels in english txt) π
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- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
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"You speak confidently, young man. Perhaps you can tell me who is the owner?"
"I can. The owner is Mrs. Hamilton, of New York."
"Indeed! That is a genuine surprise. Can you give me her address? I should like to communicate with her."
"I will cheerfully give you her address, but it won't be necessary, for I represent her."
"You!" exclaimed the stranger incredulously.
"Yes; and I am going out to Centerville now as her agent. This Jackson, who is her tenant, has been urging her to sell him the farm for some time. He has offered a sum larger than the farm would be worth but for the discovery of petroleum, but has taken good care not to speak of this."
"How much does he offer?"
"Five thousand dollars."
"The rascal!" He offers five thousand, and expects us to pay him fifty thousand dollars for his bargain. What an unmitigated swindle it would have been if he had carried out his scheme!"
"Perhaps you would like to see his last letter?" said Ben.
"I should. I want to see what the old rascal has to say for himself."
Ben took from his pocket the letter in question, and put it into the hands of his new acquaintance.
It was dated at Centerville, October 21. It was written in a cramped hand, showing that the farmer was not accustomed to letter-writing.
It ran thus:
"Respected Madam: "As I have already wrote you, I would like to buy the farm, and will give you more than anybody else, because I am used to living on it, and it seems like home. I am willing to pay five thousand dollars, though I know it is only worth four, but it is worth more to me than to others. I offer you more because I know you are rich, and will not sell unless you get a good bargain. Please answer right away. "Yours respectfully, Peter Jackson. "P.S.βMy offer will hold good for only two weeks.""He seems to be very much in earnest," said Ben.
"He has reason to be so, as he hopes to make forty-five thousand dollars on his investment."
"He will be bitterly disappointed," said Ben.
"I don't care anything about Jackson," said the stranger. "I would just as soon negotiate with you. Are you authorized to sell the farm?"
"No," answered Ben; "but Mrs. Hamilton will probably be guided by my advice in the mater."
"That amounts to the same thing. I offer you forty thousand dollars for it."
"I think favorably of your proposal, Mr. ββ"
"My name is Taylor."
"Mr. Taylor; but I prefer to delay answering till I am on the ground and can judge better of the matter."
"You are right. I was surprised at first that Mrs. Hamilton should have selected so young an agent. I begin to think her choice was a judicious one."
CHAPTER XXXI β MR. JACKSON RECEIVES A CALL
"Suppose we join forces, Ben," said Mr. Taylor familiarly.
"How do you mean?"
"We will join forces against this man Jackson. He wants to swindle both of usβthat is, those whom we represent.
"I am willing to work with you" answered Ben, who had been favorably impressed by the appearance and frankness of his traveling companion.
"Then suppose to-morrow morningβit is too late to-dayβwe call over and see the old rascal."
"I would rather not have him know on what errand I come, just at first."
"That is in accordance with my own plans. You will go as my companion. He will take you for my son, or nephew, and, while I am negotiating, you can watch and judge for yourself."
"I like the plan," said Ben.
"When he finds out who you are he will feel pretty badly sold."
"He deserves it."
The two put up at a country hotel, which, though not luxurious, was tolerably comfortable. After the fatigue of his journey, Ben enjoyed a good supper and a comfortable bed. The evening, however, he spent in the public room of the inn, where he had a chance to listen to the conversation of a motley crowd, some of them native and residents, others strangers who had been drawn to Centerville by the oil discoveries.
"I tell you," said a long, lank individual, "Centerville's goin' to be one of the smartest places in the United States. It's got a big future before it."
"That's so," said a small, wiry man; "but I'm not so much interested in that as I am in the question whether or not I've got a big future before me."
"You're one of the owners of the Hoffman farm, ain't you?"
"Yes. I wish I owned the whole of it. Still, I've made nigh on to a thousand dollars durin' the last month for my share of the profits. Pretty fair, eh?"
"I should say so. You've got a good purchase; but there's one better in my opinion."
"Where's that?"
"Peter Jackson's farm."
Here Ben and Mr. Taylor began to listen with interest.
"He hasn't begun to work it any, has he?"
"Not much; just enough to find out its value."
"What's he waitin' for?"
"There's some New York people want it. If he can get his price, he'll sell it to them for a good sum down."
"What does he ask?"
"He wants fifty thousand dollars."
"Whew! that's rather stiffish. I thought the property belonged to a lady in New York."
"So it did; but Jackson says he bought it a year ago."
"He was lucky."
Ben and Mr. Taylor looked at each other again. It was easy to see the old farmer's game, and to understand why he was so anxious to secure the farm, out of which he could make so large a sum of money.
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