His Precious Inheritance. Dorothy Clark
sir. But I see you are on your way out.” She swallowed back her disappointment and smiled. “With your permission, I will return another time.”
“Of course.” He pulled the gate open and bowed her through. “I’m sorry to inconvenience you this way, Miss Gordon, but I’ve been summoned to a meeting I must attend.” His brown eyes peered down at her. “Is this call about your annual article?”
“Yes, it is.” She held back the frown itching to form. She didn’t want to receive a no in answer to her idea because she didn’t have time to present it properly. It was imperative that he agree. What would she do if he refused? She thrust the worry from her. He would agree. She’d convince him...someway.
“Then perhaps you would do me the honor of walking with me to the Herald office. We can talk on the way.” He motioned her onto the path.
There was no choice. She couldn’t say she had to be elsewhere. She gripped her writing box and moved forward. He fell into step beside her and slanted a look down at her, the same sort of look she gave her students when they weren’t forthcoming. She accepted the cue. “Dr. Austin, I have had the good fortune to have had a Chautauqua Experience article printed in the Sunday School Journal each year since you began the Chautauqua Assembly.”
His nod set his beard whispering against his shirtfront. “And excellent articles they’ve been, Miss Gordon.”
Warmth spread through her at his compliment. “Thank you, sir. But it is the article I will write for this year’s Chautauqua edition of the Sunday School Journal I wish to discuss with you.” She took a breath and glanced up at him. “The Chautauqua Experience articles I have written thus far have been from the viewpoint of an attendee. I would like to write this year’s article from the viewpoint of the leaders, teachers, lecturers and entertainers who make the Chautauqua experience possible for the thousands of people who come here each August. To that end, I’ve come to request an interview with you.”
“I see. This way, Miss Gordon.”
Dr. Austin gestured toward an intersecting path, then lowered his head and stared at the ground as they walked. Her stomach tensed at the contemplative look on his face. She couldn’t write the article as she envisioned it unless he agreed. She could pick and choose among the teachers, but Dr. Austin had to be included. The readers would expect it. Would he agree to her idea for a new viewpoint?
The board-and-batten building with a painted sign that read Assembly Herald appeared ahead. She slowed her steps a bit to gain time. The tension in her stomach turned to knots. She had planned to write the article from the new perspective so she would be able to conduct interviews with the various teachers and entertainers over today and not have to return. She could not spend the next two weeks here at Chautauqua attending the classes and lectures to take notes for an article the way she had in the past. She had no money to pay Mrs. Duncan to care for her mother. With the increase in her weekly payment to Mrs. Smithfield for her mother, she barely had enough to pay for their room and board until the next school term began. And even then, her teacher’s wage would not cover—
“I believe we need to discuss this further, Miss Gordon.” Dr. Austin raised his head and glanced over at her. “Your articles have been very well received by our readers and I’m not certain changing them is a good idea. But I am willing to listen to your argument.” He glanced at the Assembly Herald building and frowned. “I’m uncertain how long this impromptu meeting will take, but if you could possibly wait until I’ve finished, we could continue our discussion.”
He hadn’t said no. She might still convince him. “I will wait, Dr. Austin.”
“Excellent. There is a bench over here.”
She followed him along the short stone path that ran parallel to the building, sat on a bench beside a door bearing a small sign that read Herald Office and rested her writing box on her lap. Her index finger searched out the small scratch in the smooth waxed surface and traced the indentation from end to end and back again in a tempo that matched the tapping of her foot. How would she care for her mother if he said no? She needed the money she would earn from the article to cover the increased room and board for September.
Her chest tightened, squeezed air from her lungs. She forced a breath and opened her box, pulled out paper and pencil and closed the lid. Worry would help nothing. And certainly prayer was of no avail. It was up to her to use her education and God-given talent— God-given? She thrust away that idea, narrowed her eyes and gazed around. Written words carried power. Much more than any argument she could present for the article would convey. She lowered her gaze to the blank piece of paper resting on the box and began to write the introduction she would use to convince Dr. Austin to agree.
The view from Dr. Austin’s office at the Assembly Herald building is, at once, spectacular and calming. Maple, elm and oak trees paint dappled shadows on the paths and grass, and between their bark-roughened trunks one can see the water of Chautauqua Lake rippling in the sunshine. A warm breeze rustles through the tree branches and the leaf shadows dance...
* * *
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Dr. Austin.” Charles rose and extended his hand to the courtly older gentleman. “I am an admirer of your writings.”
“You’re too kind, Mr. Thornberg. And I’m quite certain you have not come to Chautauqua merely to compliment me. So why am I here? What is this meeting about?” Dr. Austin pinned him with a sharp look.
He smiled, stood by his chair and waited for the older man to take his seat. “I have submitted a business proposal to your partner, Dr. Austin. And Mr. Fuller graciously consented to summon you so that we might discuss it.”
“Mr. Thornberg has recently purchased the Jamestown Journal, John. He has come here with a business plan that he believes will be advantageous to us both. I think he is right.” William Fuller rose from the chair behind the cluttered desk and came to stand beside him. “So I will simply say, from a monetary perspective, that what he offers is, indeed, advantageous for us. And from that angle, I would recommend we accept the deal he brings. However, I know there are things about the Assembly Herald newsletter more important to you than profit. Therefore, I will leave you two to discuss those matters. A pleasure meeting you, Mr. Thornberg. I wish you well in your new endeavor.”
“Thank you, Mr. Fuller.” Charles shook the man’s large work-scarred hand. “The pleasure was all mine, sir.”
“I’ll talk with you later to hear your decision, John.” William Fuller put on his top hat, tapped it into place and left the room.
“Well, it appears you have jumped one hurdle to your proposition, Mr. Thornberg. Let’s see if you can clear the next.” Dr. Austin stepped behind the desk, sat back in the chair William Fuller had vacated and folded his hands across his chest. “Have a seat and begin. And you can leave out the monetary details. That’s William’s decision. Mine is the content of the newsletter. What have you to say about that?”
“My proposition as to content is this, Dr. Austin.” He sat in the chair facing the desk and leaned forward. “I will accept and edit any articles or columns you wish included in the Assembly Herald. I will lay out the newsletter with the regular columns on their designated pages, provide all ‘filler’ material, write an editorial if you wish and handle any correspondence that is not meant for a specifically named contributor. I will pass forward all such letters.” He sat back, encouraged by the slow nodding of Dr. Austin’s head. “All this plus the printing of the newsletter will be done at a cost less than you now expend. But the true value to you, sir, will be the time you will save for your other duties and callings.”
Dr. Austin’s gaze fastened on his. “You are a shrewd negotiator, Mr. Thornberg. You have pointed out all of the benefits to us here at the assembly. However, you have neglected to tell me what advantage this deal holds for you.”
“A monetary one, sir. The Jamestown Journal is failing. The income earned from editing and printing your monthly newsletter will help to keep my newspaper afloat while I work