Luck and Pluck. Alger Horatio Jr.
entered the house without taking any further notice of Ben. He found his stepmother in the sitting-room. She looked up, as he entered, with a glance of satisfaction, for she saw that she had made him unhappy.
"Mike tells me you have sold Prince, Mrs. Oakley," he commenced.
"Yes. What of it?"
"As he was my horse, I think you might have let me know what you intended to do."
"Prince was not your horse," she said, sharply.
"He was my poor father's gift to me."
"Nonsense! He merely let you call him yours. The horse was mine."
"He was as much mine as Ben's watch is his. Are you going to sell Ben's watch?"
"No, I am not. If that is all you have to say, you may leave the room."
"It is not. I will not object to your selling the horse, because it would cost something to keep him; but it is only fair that the money for which he was sold should be given to me, or enough to buy a watch and chain like Ben's."
"You are very modest in your expectations, young man," sneered Mrs. Oakley.
"I'm only asking what is just."
"You seem to forget whom you are speaking to. If you think you can bully me, you will find yourself entirely mistaken."
"I am not in the habit of bullying anybody. I only want my rights," said John.
"Then you'll have to want. You may as well understand, first as last, John Oakley,"—and his stepmother raised her voice angrily,—"that I am mistress in this house, and owner of this property. You are entirely dependent upon me for the bread you eat and the clothes you wear, and it will be prudent for you to treat me respectfully, if you want any favors. Do you understand that?"
"I understand what you say, Mrs. Oakley," said John, indignantly. "You seem to have forgotten that every cent of this property belonged to my father, and would now be mine, if my father had not married you. You had better remember that, when you talk about my being dependent upon you, and favor Ben at my expense."
Mrs. Oakley turned white with rage.
"What do you mean by your impertinence, you young rascal?" she shrieked, rising to her feet, and glaring at John.
"I mean this," he exclaimed, thoroughly provoked, "that I don't believe my father ever intended to leave you all his property. I believe there is another will somewhere, and I mean to find it."
"Leave the room!" exclaimed Mrs. Oakley, in a voice almost inarticulate with rage. "You'll repent those words, John Oakley. You're in my power, and I'll make you feel it."
John left the room, his anger hot within him. When he reflected coolly upon what had passed, he did repent having spoken about the will. It might set Mrs. Oakley upon the track, and if she found it, he feared that she would have no scruples in destroying it, and then his last chance of obtaining his rights would be gone.
CHAPTER VII.
MRS. OAKLEY DECIDES WHAT TO DO
Mrs. Oakley was not only angry, but very much disturbed at the words which John had imprudently uttered. They startled her, because they intimated John's suspicion of something which she had good reason for knowing to be a fact.
Mrs. Oakley knew that her husband had executed a later will, and, though she did not know where it was, she believed it still to be in existence!
The will under which she inherited bore a date only two months after her marriage with Squire Oakley. She had cunningly influenced him to make it. He did so without proper consideration, and gave the will into her custody. But, though his wife carefully concealed from him her real character, she could not do so entirely. Little things, which came under his observation, led him to believe that she entertained a secret dislike for John, and, only three months before his death, Squire Oakley, to protect John's interests, made a second will, which superseded the first, and limited his wife to that portion of his property which she could legally claim,—that is, one third.
He did not see fit to apprise his wife of this step. But she was watchful and observant, and something led her to suspect what had been done. She determined to find out secretly, and with this end went to the desk where her husband kept his private papers, one day when she supposed him to be absent, and began to search for the suspected will. After a while she found it, and, spreading it open, began to read:—
"I, Henry Oakley, being of sound mind," etc.
She had read so far, when a heavy hand was laid upon her shoulder. Turning with a start, she saw her husband, his face dark with anger, looking sternly at her.
"Give me that document, Mrs. Oakley," he said, abruptly.
She did not dare do otherwise than obey.
"By what right do you come here to pry into my private papers?" he demanded.
"I am your wife," she said.
"That is true. You are my wife; but that does not authorize your stealing in here like a thief, and secretly examining papers, which would have been shown you if they had been intended for your eyes."
"Does not that paper relate to me?" she asked, boldly.
"It relates to my property."
"It is your will."
"Yes."
"And it makes the one which I hold of no value."
"It does."
"So you are secretly plotting against my interests," she said, angrily. "I suspected as much, and I determined to find out."
"The will of which you speak never ought to have been made. It disinherits my son, and places him in your power."
"Could you not trust me to provide for him?" asked Mrs. Oakley.
"I fear not," said her husband. And her eyes fell before his steady glance. She felt that she was better understood than she had supposed.
"So you have placed me in John's power," she said, bitterly.
"I have done nothing of the kind."
"Have you not left the property to him?"
"You well know that you are entitled by law to one-third of my estate."
"One-third!"
"Yes."
"And he is to have two-thirds?"
"Why should he not? If I had not married a second time he would have had the whole."
"And my son Ben is left unprovided for?" questioned Mrs. Oakley, in a tone of mingled anger and disappointment.
"Ben has no claim upon me."
"Poor boy! so he will be penniless."
"You appear to forget that your share of the property will amount to twenty thousand dollars. He need not suffer, unless his mother should refuse to provide for him."
But this did not suit Mrs. Oakley's views. She was not at all reconciled to the thought that John Oakley, whom she disliked, would inherit forty thousand dollars, while she and Ben must live on half that sum. She was fond of money and the position it would bring, and although twenty thousand dollars would once have seemed to her a great fortune, her desires had increased with her prosperity, and she now thought it a hardship that she should be limited to such a trifle. She was by no means reconciled to the thought that Ben must play second fiddle to his rich stepbrother. Still John was young, and if she were his guardian that would be something. So she smoothed her face and said:—
"I suppose you have appointed me John's guardian?"
Squire Oakley shook his head.
"I have appointed Mr. Selwyn to that position. It is more fitting that a lawyer should have the care of property," he said.
There was another reason which he did not mention. He thought that John's interests would be safer in Mr. Selwyn's hands than in those of his wife.
"This is an insult to me,"