Andy Grant's Pluck 2

Andy Grant's Pluck 2

"Yes, he has promised to take a mortgage of three thousand dollars on

the old place."

 

"I have heard he is a hard man, father. I don't think he is influenced

by kindness."

 

"I can't afford to inquire into his motives. It is enough that he will

furnish the money. But for that I might have to sell the farm, and then

we should be quite helpless."

 

About seven o'clock Squire Carter made his appearance. Andy opened the

door for him.

 

He was a tall, florid-faced man, with an air of consequence based upon

his knowledge that he was the richest man in the town.

 

"Good-evening, Andrew," he said, for he was always formal. "So you are

home from school?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"When did you come?"

 

"This afternoon, sir."

 

"I suppose you heard of your father's misfortune?"

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Ha! it is very sad--very sad, indeed. I quite feel for your father. I

am trying to help him out of his trouble. He was a very foolish man to

risk so much on that rascal, Lawrence."

 

Andy was disposed to agree with the squire, but he did not like to hear

his father blamed.

 

"I think he realizes that he was unwise, Squire Carter," said Andy.

"Won't you walk in?"

 

"I suppose your father is at home?" said the squire, as he stepped into

the front entry.

 

"Yes, sir; he was expecting you."

 

Andy opened the door of the sitting room, and the squire entered. Mr.

Grant rose from the rocking-chair in which he was seated and welcomed

his visitor.

 

"I am glad to see you, squire," he said. "Take a seat by the fire."

 

"Thank you," said the squire, with dignity. "I came, as I said I would.

I do not desert an old neighbor because he has been unfortunate."

 

But for his patronizing tone his words would have awakened more

gratitude. As it was, his manner seemed to say: "See how kind-hearted I

am."

 

Somehow, Andy felt more and more sorry to think his father must be

indebted to such a man.

 

"It is getting quite fallish," said the squire, rubbing his hands. "I

suppose I am more sensitive to cold, as my home is heated throughout

with steam."

 

"I hope we shall be able to make you comfortable, Squire Carter,"

returned Mrs. Grant, who had entered the room in time to hear this last

speech.

 

"Oh, yes, Mrs. Grant. I always adapt myself to circumstances."

 

"That is very kind in you," Andy was tempted to say, but he forbore. It

would not do to offend the village magnate.

 

"I see you have sent for Andrew," observed the squire, with a wave of

his hand toward the boy.

 

"Yes; I shall not be able to keep him at Penhurst Academy any longer."

 

"Very sensible decision of yours. No doubt it cost you a pretty penny to

keep him there?"

 

"The school charge is three hundred dollars a year."

 

"Bless my soul! How extravagant! You will excuse my saying so, but I

think you have been very unwise. It really seems like a wasteful use of

money."

 

"Don't you believe in education, squire?" asked Mrs. Grant.

 

"Yes; but why couldn't he get all the education he needs here?"

 

"Because there is no one here who teaches Latin and Greek."

 

"And what good would Latin and Greek do him? I don't know anything of

Latin and Greek, and yet I flatter myself I have succeeded pretty well.

I believe I am looked up to in the village, eh?"

 

"No doubt you occupy a prominent position, squire, but the boy had a

fancy for the languages and wanted to go to college."

 

"I shall not send my son to college, though, of course, I can afford

it."

 

"Perhaps he doesn't care to go."

 

"No the boy is sensible. He will be satisfied with the advantages his

father enjoyed. Supposing your boy had gone to college, what would you

have made of him?"

 

"He thought he would have liked to prepare himself for a teacher or

professor."

 

"It's a poor business, Neighbor Grant. A schoolmate of mine became a

teacher--the teacher of an academy--and I give you my word, he's as poor

as poverty."

 

"Money isn't everything, squire."

 

"It's a good deal, as in your present circumstances you must admit. But

we may as well come to business."

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER III.

 

ANDY LEAVES THE ACADEMY.

 

 

"You need to raise three thousand dollars, I believe, Neighbor Grant?"

began the squire.

 

"Yes, squire."

 

"Three thousand dollars is a good deal of money."

 

"I realize that," said Mr. Grant, sadly.

 

"I was about to say it is a good deal to raise on the security of the

farm."

 

"The farm cost me six thousand dollars."

 

"It would fetch only five thousand now. It wouldn't fetch that at a

forced sale."

 

"But for my losses, I wouldn't consider an offer of less than six

thousand."

 

"Of course, you are attached to it, and that gives it a fancy value in

your eyes."

 

"It is good land and productive. Then, it is well situated, and the

buildings are good."

 

"Well, tolerable," said the squire, cautiously. "However, that's neither

here nor there. You want three thousand dollars, and I have agreed to

let you have it. I will take a mortgage for two years, the interest

being, as usual, six per cent."

 

"Two years?" repeated Farmer Grant, uneasily.

 

"Yes. I am not sure that I can spare the money longer than two years. I

give you that time to pay it off."

 

"But it will be impossible for me to pay it off in two years. In fact,

it will take all my income to live and pay the interest."

 

"Of course that isn't my lookout."

 

"Do you mean that you will foreclose in two years?"

 

"Not necessarily. I may not need the money so soon. Besides, you may

find some one else to take it off my hands."

 

"Can't you say five years, squire?" pleaded the farmer.

 

Squire Carter shook his head.

 

"No; you can take it or leave it. I am not at all anxious to take the

mortgage, and if my terms are not agreeable, we will consider the

negotiations at an end."

 

"I won't make any difficulty, squire; I accept your terms."

 

"That is sensible. I can't, for my part, see how five years would have

been more favorable to you than two."

 

"My son Andrew is sixteen. By the time he is twenty-one he might help

me."

 

"There's not much chance of that--unless he marries a fortune," said the

squire, jocosely. "I suppose you will keep him at home to help you on

the farm?"

 

"We haven't talked the matter over yet. I will consult his wishes as far

as I can. He can't earn much money on the farm. What are you going to do

with your son?"

 

"Conrad will probably be a merchant, or a banker," said the squire,

pompously.

 

"With your means you can select any path in life for him."

 

"True; as my son he will have a great advantage. Well, as our business

is arranged, I will leave you. If you will call at Lawyer Tower's office

to-morrow at noon the papers can be drawn up, and I will give you a

check for the money."

 

"Thank you, squire. I will meet the appointment."

 

"If you don't want Andrew to work on the farm I will turn over his case

in my mind and see if I can get him a position."

 

"Thank you. I should be glad to have him well started in some business

where he can raise himself."

 

As the term of the academy was so nearly completed, Andy went back with

his father's permission, to remain till vacation. He sought an interview

at once with Dr. Crabb, the principal, and informed him of the

necessity he was under of leaving the institution.

 

"I am really sorry, Andrew," said the doctor. "You are one of my best

pupils. I am not sure but the best. There is scarcely one that I would

not sooner lose. I shall be willing to take you for half price--that is,

for one hundred and fifty dollars--till you are ready for college."

 

"Thank you, Dr. Crabb," replied Andy, gratefully. "You are very kind,

but even that sum my father, in his changed circumstances, would be

unable to pay. Besides, it would be quite out of my power to go to

college even if I were prepared."

 

"It is a thousand pities," said the principal, with concern. "If you

must leave, you must. I am not sure but I should be willing to take you

gratuitously."

 

"Thank you; but I feel that I ought to go to work at once to help my

father. It is not enough that I free him from expense."

 

"No doubt you are right. I respect you for your determination. You need

not hesitate to apply to me at any time in the future if you see any way

in which I can be of service to you."

 

"I think it will help me if you will give me a letter of recommendation,

which I can show to any one from whom I seek employment."

 

"I will give you such a letter with great pleasure;" and the doctor,

sitting down at his desk, wrote a first-class recommendation of his

favorite pupil.

 

There was general regret in the academy when it was learned that Andy

must leave them. One little boy of twelve--Dudley Cameron, a special

favorite of Andy--came to him to ask if there was no way by which he

could manage to stay.

 

"No, Dudley! I am too poor," said Andy.

 

"If I write to papa and ask him to send you a thousand dollars, will you

stay?" asked the little boy, earnestly.

 

"No, Dudley; you mustn't do anything of the kind. Even if your father

liked me as well as you do, and would give me the money, I could not

take it. I must go to work to help my father."

 

"You will write to me sometimes, Andy?"

 

"Yes; I will be sure to do that."

 

The little fellow's warm-hearted offer, and the __EXPRESSION__s of sympathy

and regret on the part of his schoolmates, cheered Andy. It was pleasant

to think that he would be missed.

 

On the closing day he received the first prize for scholarship from the

hands of Dr. Crabb.

 

"You will take my best wishes with you, Andy," said the venerable

principal. "Let me hear from you when you have made any business

arrangement."

 

The farewells were said, and Andy set out on his return home.

 

He was leaving the old life behind him. A new one lay before him, but

what it was to be he could not foresee.

 

He reached Arden in due course and set out to walk home. He had barely

started when he heard his name called.

 

Looking around, he saw Conrad Carter, the squire's only son, on his

bicycle.

 

"So you've come home from the academy?" said Conrad, curiously.

 

"Yes," answered Andy, briefly.

 

He never could bring himself to like Conrad, who made himself offensive

and unpopular by his airs of superiority. Indeed, there was no boy in

Arden so thoroughly disliked as Conrad.

 

"You'll have a pretty long vacation," went on Conrad, with a significant

laugh.

 

"Yes, I suppose so."

 

"Oh, well, it's the best thing for you. I thought it foolish when your

father sent you off to the academy. If the Arden grammar school is good

enough for me it is good enough for you."

 

"There is nothing to prevent your going to the academy."

 

"I know that. My father could afford it, even if it cost a good deal

more. You wanted to go to college, didn't you?"

 

"Yes."

 

"It was very foolish for a poor boy like you."

 

"Of course your age and experience make your opinion of value," said

Andy, with a sarcasm which he did not care to conceal.

 

"I advise you not to be too independent," returned Conrad, displeased.

"Are you going to work on the farm?"

 

"I may till I get a situation."

 

"I'll speak to father. He might take you for an errand boy."

 

"I don't think that place would suit me."

 

"Why not?"

 

"I want to go into some mercantile establishment and learn business."

 

"That's what I am going to do when I get through school. Of course there

is no hurry in my case."

 

"I suppose not."

 

"I suppose you know that my father has taken a mortgage on your father's

farm?"

 

"Yes, I know that."

 

"If your father can't pay the mortgage when it is due, father will have

to take the farm."

 

Andy made no answer, but thought Conrad more disagreeable than ever. By

way of changing the conversation, he said:

 

"That's a new bicycle, isn't it?"

 

"Yes; I got tired of the old one. This is a very expensive one.

Wouldn't you like to own a bicycle?"

 

"Yes."

 

"Of course, you never will."

 

"Then I must be content without one."

 

"Well, I must leave you. I'll come around soon and see you ride a horse

to plow."

 

As Conrad sped away on his wheel, Andy said to himself:

 

"I shouldn't like to be rich if it made me as disagreeable as Conrad."

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER IV.

 

PREPARING FOR THE PICNIC.

 

 

The change in his father's circumstances had come so suddenly that Andy

could not immediately decide upon a plan of securing employment.

 

He was not idle, however. There was work to do on the farm, and he took

off his uniform, for Penhurst Academy was a military school, and donned,

instead, a rough farm suit, in which he assisted his father.

 

If he felt a pang of regret he did not show it, for he did not wish to

add to his father's grief over his imprudent act of friendship.

 

It was while he was at work hoeing corn that Conrad Carter came up one

day, and leaning against the fence, looked at Andy with an amused

__EXPRESSION__.

 

"Oho, you've turned farmer in earnest!" he said.

 

"Yes, for the time being," answered Andy, composedly.

 

"You look fine in your overalls."

 

"Do you think so? Thank you for the compliment."

 

"You might as well keep on. You will probably succeed better as a farmer

than in business."

 

"I mean to succeed in anything I undertake."

 

"You've got a comfortable opinion of yourself."

 

"While you, on the contrary, are modest and unassuming."

 

"What do you mean?" asked Conrad, coloring.