Herbert Carter's Legacy; Or, the Inventor's Son by Jr. Horatio Alger (top reads .TXT) π
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- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
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βThere, mother, I guess I've sawed wood enough to last you, unless you are very extravagant,β said Herbert, reentering the kitchen, and taking off his cap. βNow is there anything else I can do? You know I shall be gone two days, or a day and a half at any rate.β
βI think of nothing, Herbert. You had better go to bed early, and get a good night's rest, for you will have a hard day before you.β
βSo I will, but eight o'clock will be soon enough. Just suppose we should get a legacy, after all, mother. Wouldn't it be jolly?β
βI wouldn't think too much of it, Herbert. There isn't much chance of it. Besides, it doesn't seem right to be speculating about our own personal advantage when Uncle Herbert lies dead in his house.β
There was justice in this suggestion, but Herbert could hardly be expected to take a mournful view of the death of a relative whom he hardly remembered, and who had appeared scarcely to be aware of his existence. It was natural that the thought of his wealth should be uppermost in his young nephew's mind. The reader will hardly be surprised to hear that Herbert, knowing only too well the disadvantages of poverty, should have speculated a little about his uncle's property after he went to bed. Indeed, it did not leave him even with his waking consciousness. He dreamed that his uncle left him a big lump of gold, so big and heavy that he could not lift it. He was considering anxiously how in the world he was going to get it home, when all at once he awoke, and heard the church clock strike five.
βTime I was on my way!β he thought, and, jumping out of bed, he dressed himself as quickly as possible, and went downstairs. But, early as it was, his mother, was down before him. There was a fire in the kitchen stove, and the cloth was laid for breakfast.
βWhat made you get up so early, mother?β asked Herbert.
βI wouldn't have you go away without breakfast, Herbert, especially for such a long walk.β
βI meant to take something from the closet. That would have done well enough.β
βYou will be all the better for a good, warm cup of tea. Sit right down. It is all ready.β
Early as it was, the breakfast tasted good. Herbert ate hastily, for he was anxious to be on his way. Knowing that he could not afford to buy lunch, he put the remnants of the breakfast, including some slices of bread and butter and meat, into his satchel, and started on his long walk.
CHAPTER III HERBERT MEETS A RELATIVE
Herbert had never been to Randolph. In fact, he had never been so far away from Wrayburn. He was not afraid of losing his way, however. Here and there along the road guideposts were conveniently placed, and these removed any difficulty on that score.
When he had gone about six miles, the coach rattled by. It had started more than an hour later. Herbert turned out for the lumbering vehicle, and waited for it to pass. There was a boy on top, but such was the cloud of dust that he could not at first recognize him. It happened, however, that one of the traces broke, so that the driver was compelled to make a stop just as he overtook our hero. Then he saw that the boy on top was James Leech.
With James curiosity overcame his disinclination to speak to one so far beneath him.
βWhere are you going. Carter?β he inquired.
βTo Randolph,β was the answer.
βGoing to walk all the way?β
βI expect to,β said Herbert, not relishing the cross-examination.
βWhy don't you ride?β
James did not ask for information. He knew well enough already, but as there are purse-proud men, so there are boys who are actuated by feelings equally unworthy, and it delighted him to remind Herbert of his poverty. Herbert divined this, but he was proud in his way, and answered: βBecause I choose.β
βWell, you must like the dust, that's all,β said James, complacently tapping his well-polished boot with a light cane which he had bought.
βWhere are you going?β asked Herbert, thinking it about time for him to commence questioning.
βI'm going to Randolph, too,β answered James, with unwonted affability. βI'm going to stop a few days with a friend of mine, Tom Spencer. His father's a rich manβgot a nice place there. Didn't you ever hear of Mr. Spencer, the lawyer?β
βI don't think I have.β
βThat's his father. He makes a load of money by his law business. I think I shall study law some time. Perhaps I'll go into partnership with him. What are you going to be?β
βI don't know yet,β said Herbert.
βI suppose you'll be a mechanic of some kindβa carpenter, or mason, or bricklayer.β
βPerhaps so,β said Herbert, quietly.
βWhat are you going to Randolph for?β asked James, with sudden curiosity.
βTo attend my uncle's funeral.β
βWhat's your uncle's name?β
βThe same as mine.β
βI suppose he was poor.β
βNo, he was rich.β
βWas he?β repeated James, in some surprise. βWhat do you think he was worth?β
βAbout a hundred thousand dollars.β
βSho! you don't say so. Perhaps,β continued James, with new-born respect, βhe has left you something in his will.β
βI don't think so.β
βWhy not?β
βHe hasn't shown any interest in us for six years, and I don't think he'll remember us now.β
James looked thoughtful. He had never before heard of this relationship, or he would have treated Herbert differently. The mere fact of having a wealthy relative elevated our hero considerably in his eyes. Then, too, there was a possibility that Herbert would turn out a legatee.
βWhen is your uncle's funeral?β he inquired, after a pause.
βThis
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