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

The lawyer regarded Herbert with a smile.

“Your uncle's will doesn't seem to have given general satisfaction,” he said.

“No,” responded Herbert; “but for my part I have come out as well as I expected.”

“I suppose you know Mr. Carter was rich?”

“So my mother told me.”

“How much do you think he was worth?”

Herbert was rather surprised at this question. Why should the lawyer ask it, when of course he knew much more about the matter?

“About a hundred thousand dollars, I suppose,” he answered.

“You are not far wrong. Now doesn't your share, and your mother's, seem very small compared with this large amount?”

“It is very small compared with that, but we had no claim to anything. The clothes and the money will be very useful to us.”

“You are a model heir,” said Mr. Spencer, smiling “You alone do not find fault, except, of course, Miss Nancy, who has fared the best.”

“I would rather make a fortune for myself than inherit one from another,” said Herbert, sturdily.

“I respect your independence, my boy,” said the lawyer, who felt favorably disposed toward our hero. “Still, a legacy isn't to be despised. Now tell me when you want to take your trunk.”

“I want to ask your advice about that,” said Herbert. “I walked over from Wrayburn. How shall I carry the trunk back?”

“You will have to return by the stage to-morrow morning, that is, if you are ready to go back so soon.”

“Do they charge much to stop overnight at the hotel?” asked Herbert, anxiously, for he had but seventy-five cents with him. It occurred to him how foolish he had been not to consider that it would be necessary for him to spend the night in Randolph.

“I don't know exactly how much. I think they charge fifty cents for a bed, and the same for each meal.”

Herbert's face lengthened, and he became alarmed. How was he going to manage, on his limited resources?

The lawyer penetrated his perplexity, and, being a kind-hearted man, quickly came to his relief.

“I think you would find it lonely at the hotel, my boy,” he said, “and I shall therefore invite you to pass the night at my house instead.”

“You are very kind, sir,” said Herbert, gratefully, finding his difficulty happily removed. “I accept your invitation with pleasure.”

“The boy has been well brought up, if he is poor,” thought Mr. Spencer. “Well,” he said, “that is settled. I think our supper must be ready, so we will go over to the house at once. By the way, there is a boy from your town visiting my son. You must know him?”

“Is it James Leech?” asked Herbert, remembering what James had told him.

“Yes. Do you know him?”

“We are schoolmates.”

“Then it will be pleasant for you to meet.”

Herbert was not quite sure about this, but forbore to say so.

He accompanied Mr. Spencer to his house, which was just across the street from the office, and followed the lawyer into an apartment handsomely furnished. James Leech and Tom Spencer were sitting at a small table, playing checkers.

“Hello, Carter!” exclaimed James, in surprise, “how came you here?”

“Mr. Spencer invited me,” said Herbert, not surprised at the mode of address.

“Did your uncle leave you anything?” asked James, with interest.

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“He left my mother a hundred dollars.”

“That isn't much,” said James, contemptuously. “Was that all?”

“No, he left me a trunk, and what is in it.”

“What is in it?”

“Clothes, I believe.”

“A lot of old clothes!” commented James, turning up his nose. “That's a fine legacy, I must say.”

“I shall find them useful,” said Herbert, quietly.

“Oh, no doubt. You can roll