Cast Upon the Breakers by Jr. Horatio Alger (i love reading books TXT) đź“•
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- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
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“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
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