"Yes, and a secret worth buying.  Your husband wasn't so poor as you
think.  He left stock and papers representing three thousand dollars,
and I am the only man who can put you in the way of getting it."

Mrs. Barclay was about to express her surprise, when a loud knock was
head at the outer door.

"Who's that?" demanded the tramp quickly.  "Is it the boy?"

"No, he would not knock."

"Then, let me get out of this," he said, leaping to his feet.  "Isn't
there a back door?"

"Yes, there it is."

He hurried to the door, unbolted it, and made his escape into the open
beyond the house, just as the knock was repeated.

Confused by what she had heard, and the strange conduct of her
visitor, the widow took the lamp and went to the door.  To her
surprise she found on opening it, two visitors, in one of whom she
recognized Squire Davenport, already referred to as holding a mortgage
on her house.  The other was a short, dark-complexioned man, who
looked like a mechanic.

"Excuse me the lateness of my call, Mrs. Barclay," said the squire
smoothly.  "I come on important business.  This is Mr. Kirk, a cousin
of my wife."

"Walk in, gentlemen," said Mrs. Barclay.

"This is night of surprises," she thought to herself.




CHAPTER IV
UNPLEASANT BUSINESS


It was now nine o'clock, rather a late hour for callers in the
country, and Mrs. Barclay waited not without curiosity to hear the
nature of the business which had brought her two visitors at that
time.

"Take seats, gentlemen," she said, with the courtesy habitual to her.

Squire Davenport, who was disposed to consider that he had a right to
the best of everything, seated himself in the rocking-chair, and
signed his companion to a cane chair beside him.

"Mr. Kirk," he commenced, "is thinking of coming to Pentonville to
live."

"I am glad to hear it," said Mrs. Barclay politely.  Perhaps she would
not have said this if she had known what was coming next.

"He is a carpenter," continued the squire, "and, as we have none in
the village except old Mr. Wade, who is superannuated, I think he will
find enough to do to keep him busy."

"I should think so," assented the widow.

"If he does not, I can employ him a part of the time on my land."

"What has all this to do with me?" thought Mrs. Barclay.

She soon learned.

"Of course he will need a house," pursued the squire, "and as his
family is small, he thinks this house will just suit him."

"But I don't wish to sell," said the widow hurriedly.  "I need this
house for Ben and myself."

"You could doubtless find other accommodations.  I dare say you could
hire a couple of rooms from Elnathan Perkins."

"I wouldn't live in that old shell," said Mrs. Barclay rather
indignantly, "and I am sure Ben wouldn't."

"I apprehend Benjamin will have no voice in the matter," said Squire
Davenport stiffly.  "He is only a boy."

"He is my main support, and my main adviser," said Mrs. Barclay, with
spirit, "and I shall not take any step which is disagreeable to him."

Mr. Kirk looked disappointed, but the squire gave him an assuring
look, as the widow could see.

"Perhaps you may change your mind," said the squire significantly.  "I
am under the impression that I hold a mortgage on this property."

"Yes, sir," assented Mrs. Barclay apprehensively.

"For the sum of seven hundred dollars, if I am not mistaken."

"Yes, sir."

"I shall have need of this money for other purposes, and will trouble
you to take it up."

"I was to have three months' notice," said the widow, with a troubled
look.

"I will give you three months' notice to-night," said the squire.

"I don't know where to raise the money," faltered Mrs. Barclay.

"Then you had better sell to my friend here.  He will assume the
mortgage and pay you three hundred dollars."

"But that will be only a thousand dollars for the place."

"A very fair price, in my opinion, Mrs. Barclay."

"I have always considered it worth fifteen hundred dollars," said the
widow, very much disturbed.

"A fancy price, my dear madam; quite an absurd price, I assure you.
What do you say, Kirk?"

"I quite agree with you, squire," said Kirk, in a strong, nasal tone.
"But then, women don't know anything of business."

"I know that you and your cousin are trying to take advantage of my
poverty," said Mrs. Barclay bitterly.  "If you are a carpenter, why
don't you build a house for yourself, instead of trying to deprive me
of mine?"

"That's my business," said Kirk rudely.

"Mr. Kirk cannot spare the time to build at present," said the squire.

"Then why doesn't he hire rooms from Elnathan Perkins, as you just
recommended to me?"

"They wouldn't suit him," said the squire curtly.  "He has set his
mind on this house."

"Squire Davenport," said Mrs. Barclay, in a softened voice, "I am sure
you cannot understand what you ask of me when you seek to take my home
and turn me adrift.  Here I lived with my poor husband; here my boy
was born.  During my married life I have had no other home.  It is a
humble dwelling, but it has associations and charms for me which it
can never have for no one else.  Let Mr. Kirk see some other house and
leave me undisturbed in mine."

"Humph!" said the squire, shrugging his shoulders; "you look upon the
matter from a sentimental point of view.  That is unwise.  It is
simply a matter of business.  You speak of the house as yours.  In
reality, it is more mine than yours, for I have a major interest in
it.  Think over my proposal coolly, and you will see that you are
unreasonable.  Mr. Kirk may be induced to give you a little more--say
three hundred and fifty dollars--over and above the mortgage, which,
as I said before, he is willing assume."

"How does it happen that you are willing to let the mortgage remain,
if he buys, when you want the money for other purposes?" asked the
widow keenly.

"He is a near relative of my wife, and that makes the difference, I
apprehend."

"Well, madam, what do you say?" asked Kirk briskly.

"I say this, that I will keep the house if I can."

"You needn't expect that I will relent," said the squire hastily.

"I do not, for I see there is no consideration in your heart for a
poor widow; but I cannot help thinking that Providence will raise up
some kind friend who will buy the mortgage, or in some other way will
enable me to save my home."

You are acting very foolishly, Mrs. Barclay, as you will realize in
time.  I give you a week in which to change your mind.  Till then my
friend Kirk's offer stands good.  After that I cannot promise.  If the
property sold at auction I shouldn't he surprised if it did not fetch
more than the amount of my lien upon it."

"I will trust in Providence, Squire Davenport."

"Providence won't pay off your mortgage, ma'am," said Kirk, with a
coarse laugh.

Mrs. Barclay did not answer.  She saw that he was a man of coarse
fiber and did not care to notice him.

"Come along, Kirk," said the squire.  "I apprehend she will be all
right after a while.  Mrs. Barclay will see her own interest when she
comes to reflect."

"Good-evening, ma'am," said Kirk.

Mrs. Barclay inclined her head slowly, but did not reply.

When the two had left the house she sank into a chair and gave herself
to painful thoughts.  She had known that Squire Davenport had the
right to dispossess her, but had not supposed he would do so as long
as she paid the interest regularly.  In order to do this, she and Ben
had made earnest efforts, and denied themselves all but the barest
necessities.  Thus far she had succeeded.  The interest on seven
hundred dollars at six per cent. had amounted to forty-two dollars,
and this was a large sum to pay, but thus far they had always had it
ready.  That Squire Davenport, with his own handsome mansion, would
fix covetous eyes on her little home, she had not anticipated, but it
had come to pass.

As to raising seven hundred dollars to pay off the mortgage, or induce
any capitalist to furnish it, she feared it would be quite impossible.

She anxiously waited for Ben's return from the Town Hall in order to
consult with him.




CHAPTER V
PROFESSOR HARRINGTON'S ENTERTAINMENT


Meanwhile Ben Barclay was enjoying himself at Professor Harrington's
entertainment.  He was at the Town Hall fifteen minutes before the
time, and secured a seat very near the stage, or, perhaps it will be
more correct to say, the platform.  He had scarcely taken his seat
when, to his gratification, Rose Gardiner entered the hall and sat
down beside him.

"Good-evening, Ben," she said pleasantly.  "So you came, after all."

Ben's face flushed with pleasure, for Rose Gardiner was, as we have
said, the prettiest girl in Pentonville, and for this reason, as well
as for her agreeable manners, was an object of attraction to the boys,
who, while too young to be in love, were not insensible to the charms
of a pretty face.  I may add that Rose was the niece of the Rev. Mr.
Gardiner, the minister of the leading church in the village.

"Good-evening, Rose," responded Ben, who was too well acquainted with
the young lady to address her more formally; "I am glad to be in such
company."

"I wish I could return the compliment," answered Rose, with a saucy
smile.

"Don't be too severe," said Ben, "or you will hurt my feelings."

"That would be a pity, surely; but how do do you happen to get off this
evening?  I thought you spent your evenings at the store."

"So I do, generally, but I was excused this evening for a special
reason," and then he told of his adventure with the tramp.

Rose listened with eager attention.

"Weren't you terribly frightened?" she asked.

"No," answered Ben, adding, with a smile: "Even if I had been, I
shouldn't like to confess it."

"I should have been so frightened that I would have screamed,"
continued the young lady.

"I didn't think of that," said Ben, amused.  "I'll remember it next
time."

"Oh, now I know you are laughing at me.  Tell me truly, weren't you
frightened?"

"I was only afraid I would lose Mr. Crawford's money.  The tramp was
stronger than I, and could have taken it from me if he had known I had
it."

"You tricked him nicely.  Where did he go?  Do you think he is still
in town?"

"He went into the woods.  I don't think he is in the village.  He
would be afraid of being arrested."

At that very moment the tramp was in Ben's kitchen, but of that Ben
had no idea.

"I don't know what I should do if I met him," said Rose.  "You see I
came alone.  Aunt couldn't come with me, and uncle, being a minister,
doesn't care for such things."

"Then I hope you'll let me see you home," said Ben gallantly.

"I wouldn't like to trouble you," said Rose, with a spice of coquetry.
"It will take you out of your way."

"I don't mind that," said Ben eagerly.

"Besides there won't be any need.  You say the tramp isn't in the
village."

"On second thoughts, I think it very likely he is," said Ben.

"If you really think so--" commenced Rose, with cunning hesitation.

"I feel quite sure of it.  He's a terrible looking fellow."

Rose smiled to herself.  She meant all the time to accept Ben's
escort, for he was a bright, attractive boy, and she liked his
society.

"Then perhaps I had better accept your offer, but I am sorry to give
you so much trouble."

"No trouble at all," said Ben promptly.

Just then Prof. Harrington came forward and made his introductory
speech.

"For my first experiment, ladies and gentlemen," he said, when this
was over, "I should like a pocket handkerchief."

A countrified-looking young man on the front seat, anxious to share in
the glory of the coming trick, produced a flaming red bandanna from
his pocket and tendered it with outstretched hand.

"You are very kind," said the professor, "but this will hardly answer
my purpose.  I should prefer a linen handkerchief.  Will some young
lady oblige me?"

"Let him have yours, Rose," suggested Ben.

Rose had no objection, and it was passed to the professor.

"The young lady will give me leave to do what I please with the
handkerchief?" asked the professor.

Rose nodded assent.

"Then," said the professor, "I will see if it is proof against fire."

He deliberately unfolded it, crushed it in his hand, and then held it
in the flame of a candle.

Rose uttered a low ejaculation.

"That's the last of your handkerchief, Rose," said Ben.

"You made me give it to him.  You must buy me another," said the young
lady.

"So I will, if you don't get it back safe."

"How can I?"

"I don't know.  Perhaps the professor does," answered Ben.

"Really," said the professor, contemplating the handkerchief
regretfully.  "I am afraid I have destroyed the handkerchief; I hope
the young lady will pardon me."

He looked at Rose, but she made no sign.  She felt a little disturbed,
for it was a fine handkerchief, given her by her aunt.

"I see the young lady is annoyed," continued the magician.  "In that
case I must try to repair damages.  I made a little mistake in
supposing the handkerchief to be noncombustible.  However, perhaps
matters are not so bad as they seem."

He tossed the handkerchief behind a screen, and moved forward to a
table on which was a neat box.  Taking a small key from his pocket, he
unlocked it and drew forth before the astonished eyes of his audience
the handkerchief intact.

"I believe this is your handkerchief, is it not?" he asked, stepping
down from the platform and handing it back to Rose.

"Yes," answered Rose, in amazement, examining it carefully, and unable
to detect any injury.

"And it is in as good condition as when you gave it to me?"

"Yes, sir."

"So much the better.  Then I shall not be at the expense of buying a
new one.  Young man, have you any objections to lending me your hat?"

This question was addressed to Ben.

"No, sir."

"Thank you.  I will promise not to burn it, as I did the young lady's
handkerchief.  You are sure there is nothing in it?"

"Yes, sir."

By this time the magician had reached the platform.

"I am sorry to doubt the young gentleman's word," said the professor,
"but I will charitably believe he is mistaken.  Perhaps he forgot
these articles when he said it was empty," and he drew forth a couple
of potatoes and half a dozen onions from the hat and laid them on the
table.

There was a roar of laughter from the audience, and Ben looked rather
confused, especially when Rose turned to him and, laughing, said:

"You've been robbing Mr. Crawford, I am afraid, Ben."

"The young gentleman evidently uses his hat for a market-basket,"
proceeded the professor.  "Rather a strange taste, but this is a free
country.  But what have we here?"

Out came a pair of stockings, a napkin and a necktie.

"Very convenient to carry your wardrobe about with you," said the
professor, "though it is rather curious taste to put them with
vegetables.  But here is something else," and the magician produced a
small kitten, who regarded the audience with startled eyes and uttered
a timid moan.

"Oh, Ben!  let me have that pretty kitten," said Rose.

"It's none of mine!" said Ben, half annoyed, half amused.

"I believe there is nothing more," said the professor.

He carried back the hat to Ben, and gave it to him with the remark:

"Young man, you may call for your vegetables and other articles after
the entertainment."

"You are welcome to them," said Ben.

"Thank you; you are very liberal."

When at length the performance was over, Ben and Rose moved toward the
door.  As Rose reached the outer door, a boy about Ben's age, but
considerably better dressed, stepped up to her and said, with a
consequential air:

"I will see you home, Miss Gardiner."

"Much obliged, Mr. Davenport," said Rose, "but I have accepted Ben's
escort."




CHAPTER VI
TWO YOUNG RIVALS


Tom Davenport, for it was the son of Squire Davenport who had offered
his escort to Rose, glanced superciliously at our hero.

"I congratulate you on having secured a grocer's boy as escort," he
said in a tone of annoyance.

Ben's fist contracted, and he longed to give the pretentious
aristocrat a lesson, but he had the good sense to wait for the young
lady's reply.

"I accept your congratulations, Mr. Davenport," said Rose coldly.  "I
have no desire to change my escort."

Tom Davenport laughed derisively, and walked away.

"I'd like to box his ears," said Ben, reddening.

"He doesn't deserve your notice, Ben," said Rose, taking his arm.

But Ben was not easily appeased.

"Just because his father is a rich man," he resumed.

"He presumes upon it," interrupted Rose, good-naturedly.  "Well, let
him.  That's his chief claim to consideration, and it is natural for
him to make the most of it."

"At any rate, I hope that can't be said of me," returned Ben, his brow
clearing.  "If I had nothing but money to be proud of, I should be
very poorly off."

"You wouldn't object to it, though."

"No, I hope, for mother's sake, some day to be rich."

"Most of our rich men were once poor boys," said Rose quietly.  "I
have a book of biographies at home, and I find that not only rich men,
but men distinguished in other ways, generally commenced in poverty."

"I wish you'd lend me that book," said Ben.  "Sometimes I get
despondent and that will give me courage."

"You shall have it whenever you call at the house.  But you mustn't
think too much of getting money."

"I don't mean to; but I should like to make my mother comfortable.  I
don't see much chance of it while I remain a 'grocer's boy,' as Tom
Davenport calls me."

"Better be a grocer's boy than spend your time in idleness, as Tom
does."

"Tom thinks it beneath him to work."

"If his father had been of the sane mind when he was a boy, he would
never have become a rich man."

"Was Squire Davenport a poor boy?"

"Yes, so uncle told me the other day.  When he was a boy he worked on
a farm.  I don't know how he made his money, but I presume he laid the
foundation of his wealth by hard work.  So, Tom hasn't any right to
look down upon those who are beginning now as his father began."

They had by this time traversed half the distance from the Town Hall
to the young lady's home.  The subject of conversation was changed and
they began to talk about the evening's entertainment.  At length they
reached the minister's house.

"Won't you come in, Ben?" asked Rose.

"Isn't it too late?"

"No, uncle always sits up late reading, and will be glad to see you."

"Then I will come in for a few minutes."

Ben's few minutes extended to three-quarters of an hour.  When he came
out, the moon was obscured and it was quite dark.  Ben had not gone
far when he heard steps behind him, and presently a hand was laid on
his shoulder.

"Hello, boy!" said a rough voice.

Ben started, and turning suddenly, recognized in spite of the
darkness, the tramp who had attempted to rob him during the day.  He
paused, uncertain whether he was not going to be attacked, but the
tramp laughed reassuringly.

"Don't be afraid, boy," he said.  "I owe you some money, and here it
is."

He pressed into the hand of the astonished Ben the dollar which our
hero had given him.

"I don't think it will do me any good," he said.  "I've given it back,
and now you can't say I robbed you."

"You are a strange man," said Ben.

"I'm not so bad as I look," said the tramp.  "Some day I may do you a
service.  I'm goin' out of town to-night, and you'll hear from me
again some time."

He turned swiftly, and Ben lost sight of him.




CHAPTER VII
THE TRAMP MAKES ANOTHER CALL


My readers will naturally be surprised at the tramp's restitution of a
coin, which, though counterfeit, he would probably have managed to
pass, but this chapter will throw some light on his mysterious
conduct.

When he made a sudden exit from Mrs. Barclay's house, upon the
appearance of the squire and his friend, he did not leave the
premises, but posted himself at a window, slightly open, of the room
in which the widow received her new visitors.  He listened with a
smile to the squire's attempt to force Mrs. Barclay to sell her house.

"He's a sly old rascal!" thought the tramp.  "I'll put a spoke in his
wheel."

When the squire and his wife's cousin left the house, the tramp
followed at a little distance.  Not far from the squire's handsome
residence Kirk left him, and the tramp then came boldly forward.

"Good-evenin'," he said familiarly.

Squire Davenport turned sharply, and as his eye fell on the
unprepossessing figure, he instinctively put his hand in the pocket in
which he kept his wallet.

"Who are you?" he demanded apprehensively.

"I ain't a thief, and you needn't fear for your wallet," was the
reply.

"Let me pass, fellow!  I can do nothing for you."

"We'll see about that!"