Five Hundred Dollars; or, Jacob Marlowe's Secret. Alger Horatio Jr.
with your money, but to try to save up some of your salary so that you can add to your little fund."
"Thank you, Mary. I suppose you are afraid I will be driving fast horses in Central Park, eh?"
"I am more afraid you will be too generous with your money, and give away more than you can afford."
"Well thought of, Mary! So far from that, I am going to turn miser and hoard up every cent I can."
"I don't think there is much danger of that."
"Oh, you have no idea how mean I can be if I try. However, as I shall be acting according to your advice, you can't find fault with me."
"I see you don't mean to follow my advice, Uncle Jacob."
"Still I am glad you gave it. It shows that you feel a real interest in your shabby old uncle. Some time—I can't promise how soon—I shall invite you and Bert to come and spend the day in New York. I will get a day off from the office, and we'll have a nice excursion somewhere."
On Friday, Uncle Jacob called on Squire Marlowe; not at the house, however, but at the factory.
"I've come to bid you good-by, Albert," he said.
"Are you going back to California?" asked the Squire.
"No, I am going to New York."
"It is expensive living in New York."
"I have obtained a situation there."
"Ah, indeed! That is different. What sort of a position?"
"I shall be a clerk in a mining office."
"What pay will you get?"
"Twelve dollars a week."
"Very fair! I congratulate you. You ought to live on that and save money besides."
"That's what Mary Barton says."
"Then she gives you very sensible advice. It will be a great deal better than opening a cigar store in Lakeville."
"I wouldn't do that after what you said on the subject," returned Uncle Jacob in a deferential tone, though there was a twinkle in his eye.
"I am glad you recognize the fact that I counseled you for your good," said the Squire pompously. "As an experienced business man, my judgment is worth something, I apprehend."
"Quite so, Albert; quite so! Is your wife feeling better?"
(Uncle Jacob had seen Mrs. Marlowe riding out the day before, apparently in full health.)
"She is somewhat improved, but still delicate," said Squire Marlowe guardedly. "I am sorry I cannot invite you to dine with us again before you go to the city."
"I should hardly be able to do so, as I go away to-morrow."
"Just so! I will say good-by for you, and that will do just as well."
"That's a load off my mind!" soliloquized the squire, after Uncle Jacob had left him. "I was afraid the old man would squander all his money, and then come upon me for that old loan. I hope he'll keep away from Lakeville in the future."
The next day Uncle Jacob left town. As he quitted the house, he put a sealed envelope into Mary Barton's hand.
"If you are ever in trouble, and cannot communicate with me," he said, "open this envelope. Take good care of it!"
"I will, Uncle Jacob. I will put it away in my trunk."
"Well, good-by, Mary, and God bless you!"
A minute later and Uncle Jacob was gone. Mrs. Barton went back to covering balls and Bert to his place in the shoe shop. Their united earnings enabled them to live comfortably, and they were content, though they had nothing to spare. But trouble was close at hand, though they did not suspect it.
What that trouble was will be disclosed in the next chapter.
CHAPTER VIII.
DISCHARGED
Three days later, while on his way to the factory, Bert overtook Luke Crandall, who was employed like himself in pegging shoes.
"Have you heard the news, Bert?" asked his friend.
"No; what is it?"
"All the peggers are to be discharged; you and I, and the two other boys."
"Is that true?" asked Bert, stopping short, and surveying his friend with a look of dismay.
"Yes; I wish it wasn't."
"What is the reason?"
"The squire has bought a pegging machine, and he has hired a man from out of town to run it. So he will have no need of us."
"How soon is he going to put it in?" asked Bert, with a sinking heart.
"Next Monday. At the end of this week we shall be discharged."
"What are you going to do?" Bert inquired, after a pause.
"I shall be all right. I have an uncle who keeps a store in Bradford, and I am going there to tend in the store, and shall board in the family. What shall you do?"
"I don't know," answered Bert soberly. "This has come on me so suddenly, that I haven't had time to think."
"There's precious little chance for a boy in Lakeville, unless he goes to work on a farm."
"I don't even know if there is a chance to do that. All the farmers are supplied with help. Besides, they generally pay a boy in his board and clothes, and I need money to help support my mother."
"Isn't old Marlowe your uncle?"
"No, but he is my mother's cousin."
"Then he ought to do something for you out of relationship."
"I don't expect it," answered Bert. "He appears to feel very little interest in us."
They had reached the factory, and entering, were soon at work. Before noon the bad news was confirmed, and the boys were informed that their services would not be required after Saturday night.
At dinner Bert informed his mother, and she too was dismayed. It was a calamity she had never dreamed of. She supposed Bert was sure of continued employment in pegging till he was old enough to be employed in some other part of the business.
"I don't see what we shall do, Bert," she said. "There is no other shop in Lakeville. If there were, you might get a chance there."
"There is no business of any kind here outside of Marlowe's shop."
"True. What are the other boys going to do?"
"Luke Crandall is going into his uncle's shop at Bradford, and the other two boys talk of leaving town."
"I do think Albert Marlowe might find some place for you. We are near relations, and he knows how I depend on your earnings."
"He isn't a man to consider that, mother."
Mrs. Barton was silent, but she determined to make an application to her cousin in Bert's behalf. Accordingly, in the evening, she said to him. "Bert, I am going out to make a call. I would like to have you look after the house while I am gone."
"Yes, mother."
Mrs. Barton did not venture to let Bert know of her intention, for he would have done his best to prevent her applying to the squire for a special favor. Perhaps he was too proud, but it was an honorable pride. Besides, he knew very well that the appeal was likely to prove ineffectual.
With a faltering step Mrs. Barton advanced and rang the bell of her cousin's handsome house. It was a call from which she shrank, but she was spurred by necessity.
"Is Mr. Marlowe in?" she inquired.
"I will see, ma'am."
Squire Marlowe was at home, and she was ushered into his presence.
Albert Marlowe was not, on the whole, surprised to see his cousin. He guessed the errand that brought her, and he frowned slightly as she entered the room.
"Good evening," he said, in a distant tone. "I hope you are well."
"Well in health,