Luck and Pluck 29

Luck and Pluck 29

"Unfortunately he was so low that he was unable to declare where it

was."

 

Mrs. Oakley looked relieved.

 

"But John heard the words 'secret drawer.'"

 

"Then you conclude that the will is still in existence."

 

"I do."

 

"And where do you think it is?"

 

"Somewhere in this house," said Squire Selwyn, emphatically.

 

"It is strange then that it has not been found," said Mrs. Oakley.

 

"I do not think so. If hidden in a secret drawer, it would naturally be

difficult to find."

 

Mrs. Oakley rapidly made up her mind what to do. She saw that Squire

Selwyn was suspicious of her. By a show of fair dealing she could allay

those suspicions, and this would be worth while.

 

"If this will exists," she said, "it ought to be found."

 

"So I think," said the lawyer, surprised to hear her speak thus.

 

"And though its discovery would be to my disadvantage, I certainly

shall not object to a search. Are you at leisure now to assist me in

such a search?"

 

"I am," said the lawyer. "I think there is no time like the present."

 

"Then let us begin in this very room."

 

"It wouldn't be likely to be here. Still it is best not to slight any

possible place of concealment."

 

Assisted by Mrs. Oakley, Squire Selwyn commenced a strict search,

beginning with the parlor, and proceeding from room to room. He little

suspected how near him the document was all the time. Of course the

search proved fruitless.

 

"There is one room which has not yet been searched," said Mrs.

Oakley,--"the only one except the kitchen, in which Mr. Oakley would be

hardly likely to conceal it. I mean my own room."

 

"There's no occasion to search there."

 

"I would prefer that the search should be thorough. Here are my keys. I

would rather have you go up."

 

Thus requested, Squire Selwyn complied with the request. He returned

from the quest disappointed.

 

"It is very strange," he thought. "I am firmly convinced that my friend

Oakley left a will in existence. But where is it?"

 

That question he was unable to answer.

 

"I cannot find the will," he said.

 

"I am glad you have searched," said Mrs. Oakley. "The fact that I have

given you every facility for searching proves that I am perfectly

willing that my husband's will should be carried out."

 

"And his wishes as well?"

 

"What do you refer to?"

 

"I refer to John's education."

 

"I have made up my mind as to that," said Mrs. Oakley, briefly.

 

"Do you consider your brother's house a suitable home for Mr. Oakley's

son?"

 

"Why not?" she demanded, sharply.

 

"Do you think, in setting him to work in a shoe-shop, you are doing as

his father wished?"

 

"I do not know where you got your information, Mr. Selwyn," said Mrs.

Oakley, angrily, "but I must tell you that you are meddling with

business that does not concern you. As you were my husband's lawyer,

and drew up the will which you thought in existence, I have asked you

to search for it; I have even opened my own chamber to your search.

You ought to be satisfied by this time that you are mistaken. In doing

this, I have done all that I intend doing. I shall take my own course

with John Oakley, who is dependent upon me, and whatever you choose to

think or say can have no effect upon me. Good-afternoon, sir."

 

Mrs. Oakley swept from the room, and Squire Selwyn left the house,

feeling that his visit had not benefited John in the slightest degree.

That night he wrote John a letter.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XXII.

 

MR. HUXTER GETS INTO HOT WATER.

 

 

It was Mr. Huxter's intention to set John to work as soon as possible;

but it so happened that the shoe business, in which he was engaged,

had been for some time unusually dull, and had not yet revived. To

this circumstance our hero was indebted for the comparative freedom

which for a few days he was permitted to enjoy. During that time he

was waiting anxiously for the expected letter from Squire Selwyn. He

wished to know whether his stepmother was resolutely determined upon

her present course with regard to himself, before he decided to take

the matter into his own hands, and help himself in his own way. Upon

one thing he was fully resolved,--not to remain much longer a member of

Mr. Huxter's household.

 

As the letter was to come to the Milbank post-office, on the fourth

afternoon he walked over to that village. This time he was not

fortunate enough to meet David Wallace, and therefore had a long and

tiresome walk.

 

"Is there a letter here for John Oakley?" he inquired of the postmaster.

 

"John Oakley," said the old official, looking under his glasses. "Do

you live round here?"

 

"I am passing a short time in the neighborhood," said John.

 

The postmaster took some time to adjust his spectacles, and a longer

time in looking over the letters. John waited anxiously, fearing that

he had taken the long walk for nothing. But he was destined to be more

fortunate.

 

"You said your name was John Oakley?" repeated the official, balancing

a letter in his hand.

 

"Yes," said John, quickly.

 

"Then here's a letter for you. It looks like Squire Selwyn's writing."

 

"It is from him," said John.

 

"Then you know him?"

 

"Yes," said John, mechanically, impatiently tearing open the letter.

 

"He's a good lawyer, the squire is," said the postmaster. "He was here

only last week."

 

"Yes, I saw him."

 

This was the letter which John received:--

 

"MY DEAR YOUNG FRIEND:--I called upon your stepmother yesterday in

the afternoon, hoping to induce her to adopt different measures

with regard to yourself. I regret to say that I failed utterly in my

mission. She will not permit you to go to college, declaring that you

have already a sufficient education. Nor will she remove you from the

house of Mr. Huxter, though I represented that he was not a proper

person to have the charge of you.

 

"We had some conversation about the missing will. I was a little

surprised by her suggesting that I should search the house for it. I

was glad of the opportunity, and proceeded to do so. I made the search

as thorough as possible, but discovered nothing. I still believe,

however, that the will is in existence, _unless it has been destroyed

since your father's death_.

 

"I hardly know what to advise under the circumstances. If you should

leave Mr. Huxter, I advise you to seek your aunt at Wilton, and I

shall be glad to hear from you when you have arrived there. If you

should need money, do not hesitate to apply to me, remembering that I

am your father's friend."

 

"Your true friend,

JAMES SELWYN."

 

"P. S. I enclose a few lines from Sam."

 

 

There was another sheet inside the envelope, on which John recognized

easily Sam's familiar handwriting. He was very glad to hear from Sam,

for whom he felt a warm attachment.

 

Here is Sam's letter:--

 

"DEAR JOHN:--I have been missing you awfully. I couldn't think what

had become of you till father told me he had seen you at Milbank. So

you are in the spider's clutches, you poor innocent fly? A nice time

you must have of it with old Huxter. I declare I've no patience with

Mrs. Oakley, when I think of the way she has treated you. I can't do

anything to her; but I'll take it out in tricks on Ben. By the way,

your amiable stepbrother has got a new friend,--a flashy young man

from New York, who sports a lot of bogus jewelry, and smokes from

ten to a dozen cigars a day, and spends his time in lounging about

the billiard and bar room. He isn't doing Ben any good. They play

billiards a good deal, and he tells Ben stories about the city, which

I expect will make Ben want to go there. Do you think Mrs. Oakley will let him?