"Are you sure of this, Susan?" asked Mrs. Hamilton, evidently shocked.
"I can take my Bible oath of it, ma'am; and it's my belief that he's
tryin' to get Master Ben into trouble."

"Thank you, Susan," said her mistress.  "You have done not only Ben,
but myself, a valuable service.  You can go.  I will see that you do
not regret it."

"Don't tell Mrs. Hill that I told you, or she'd be my enemy for life!"

"I will see to that."

As Susan left the room, Mr. Lynx said:

"You won't require my services any longer.  It is clear enough who
pawned the glass."

"You mean--"

"I mean the boy Conrad, whose mother was so anxious to fix the guilt
upon your young secretary.  If you have the slightest doubt about it,
invite the young gentleman to accompany you to Simpson's to redeem the
opera glass."

"I will."




CHAPTER XXIX
SOME UNEXPECTED CHANGES


When Conrad came home his first visit was to his mother.

"Has anything been found out about the stolen opera glass?" he asked,
with a studied air of indifference.

"I should say there had," she answered.  "I followed the clew you
suggested, and searched the boy's room.  On the bureau I found the
pawn ticket."

"You don't say so!  What a muff Ben must have been to leave it around
so carelessly!  What did you do with it?"

"I waited till Mr. Lynx was conferring with Cousin Hamilton, and then
I carried it in and gave it to them."

"What did they say?" asked Conrad eagerly.

"They seemed thunderstruck, and Mr. Lynx very politely thanked me for
the help I had given them."

"Has Ben been bounced yet?"

"No; but doubtless he will be very soon.  Cousin Hamilton doesn't want
to think him a thief and gambler, but there seems no way of escaping
from such a mass of proof."

"I should say not.  Do you think she's told Ben?  Does he look down in
the mouth?" continued Conrad.

"I haven't seen him since."

When they met at the table Mrs. Hamilton's manner toward Ben was
decidedly frigid, as Conrad and his mother saw, much to their
satisfaction.  Ben looked sober, but his appetite did not appear to be
affected.

"Your course is about run, young man!" thought Mrs. Hill.

"I should like to see you after supper, Conrad," said Mrs. Hamilton.
"Come into my sitting room."

"I wonder if she is going to give me Ben's place," thought Conrad,
hardly knowing whether he wished it or not.

With a jaunty air and a self-satisfied smile, he followed Mrs.
Hamilton into her "private office," as she sometimes called it.

"Shut the door, Conrad," she said.

He did so.

"I have heard news of the opera glass," she commenced.

"Mother gave me a hint of that," said Conrad.

"It was stolen and pawned at Simpson's on the Bowery."

"It's a great shame!" said Conrad, thinking that a safe comment to
make.

"Yes, it was a shame and a disgrace to the one who took it."

"I didn't think Ben would do such a thing," continued Conrad, growing
bolder.

"Nor I," said Mrs. Hamilton.

"After all you have done for him, too.  I never liked the boy, for my
part."

"So I suspected," said Mrs. Hamilton dryly.  "However, I will tell you
what I want of you.  I am going down to Simpson's to-morrow to redeem
the glass, and want you to go with me."

"You want me to go with you!" ejaculated Conrad, turning pale.

"Yes; I don't care to go to that part of the City by myself, and I
will take you to keep me company."

"But I must go to the office," faltered Conrad.

"I will send Ben to say that you can't go to-morrow."

"Why don't you take Ben to Simpson's, or the detective?" suggested
Conrad, in great alarm, bethinking himself that it would hardly do to
take Ben, since the attendant would certify that he was not the one
who pawned the glass.

"Because I prefer to take you.  Have you any objection to go!"

"Oh, no, of course not!" answered Conrad, not daring to make any
further objection.

In the morning Mrs. Hill came to Mrs. Hamilton, and said:

"Poor Conrad has a terrible toothache!  He is afraid he won't be able
to go with you to Simpson's.  Will you kindly excuse him?"

Mrs. Hamilton expected some such excuse.

"I will take Ben, then," she said.

"Are you going to keep that boy--after what be has done?" asked the
housekeeper.

"It is inconvenient for me to part with him just yet."

"Then--I hope you will excuse the suggestion--I advise you to keep
your bureau drawers locked."

"I think it best myself," said Mrs. Hamilton.  Is Conrad's toothache
very bad?"

"The poor fellow is in great pain."

When Ben was invited by Mrs. Hamilton to go to the pawnbroker's he
made no objection.

"It is only fair to tell you, Ben," said Mrs. Hamilton, that the
person who pawned the opera glass gave your name."

"Then," said Ben, "I should like to know who it is."

"I think I know," said his patroness; "but when we redeem the glass we
will ask for a description of him."

An hour later they entered the pawnbroker's shop.  Mrs. Hamilton
presented the ticket and made herself known.

"Will you tell me," she asked, "whether you have ever seen the young
gentleman that accompanies me?"

"Not to my knowledge," answered the attendant, after attentively
regarding Ben.

"Can you remember the appearance of the boy who pawned the opera
glass?"

"He was taller than this boy, and pale.  He was thinner also.  His
hair was a light brown."

A light dawned upon Ben, and his glance met that of Mrs. Hamilton, so
that she read his suspicions.

"I think we both know who it was that took your name, Ben," she said;
"but for the present I wish you to keep it secret."

"I will certainly do so, Mrs. Hamilton."

"I am placed in difficult circumstances, and have not made up my mind
what to do."

"I hope you won't allow yourself to be prejudiced against me by any
false stories."

"No, I can promise you that.  I have perfect confidence in you."

"Thank you for that, Mrs. Hamilton," said Ben gratefully.

"Yet I am about to take a course that will surprise you."

"What is that?"

"I am going to let you leave me for a time, and put Conrad in your
place."

Ben looked bewildered, as well he might.  There was nothing that would
have surprised him more.

"Then I am afraid you don't find me satisfactory," he said anxiously.

"Why not?"

"You discharge me from your service."

"No" answered Mrs. Hamilton, smiling; "I have other work for you to
do.  I mean to give you a confidential commission."

Ben's face brightened up immediately.

"You will find me faithful," he said, "and I hope I may repay your
confidence."

"I think you will.  I will explain matters to you before you reach the
house, as I don't want Mrs. Hill or Conrad to know about the matter.
Indeed, for reasons of my own, I shall let them think that I
discharged you."

Ben smiled; he was not averse to such a plan.

"And now for the business.  I own a farm in the western part of
Pennsylvania.  I have for years let it for a nominal sum to a man
named Jackson.  Of late he has been very anxious to buy it, and has
offered me a sum greater than I had supposed it to be worth.  As I
know him to be a close-fisted man, who has tried more than once to get
me to reduce the small rent I charge him, this naturally excites my
curiosity.  I think something has been discovered that enhances the
value of the farm, and, if so, I want to know it.  You are a boy, and
a visit to the neighborhood will not excite surprise.

"I understand," said Ben.  "When do you wish me to start?"

"This afternoon.  I have prepared written instructions, and here is a
pocketbook containing a hundred and fifty dollars for expenses."

"Shall I need so much?"

"Probably not; but I wish you to be amply provided.  You will remove
all your things from my house, but you may store anything you don't
need to carry."

When Conrad heard that Mrs. Hamilton had taken Ben with her, he was
alarmed lest it should be discovered that the boy pawning the opera
glass was not Ben, but himself.  When, upon Mrs. Hamilton's return, he
was summoned to her presence, he entered with trepidation.

"Is your toothache better, Conrad?" asked Mrs. Hamilton.

"A little better, thank you."

"I am going to make a change in your position.  Ben is to leave me,
and you will take his place as my secretary."

Conrad's heart bounded with joy and surprise.

"How can I thank you, Cousin Hamilton!" he said, with a feeling of
great relief.

"By serving me well."

"All has turned out for the best, mother," said Conrad joyfully, as he
sought his mother's presence.  "Ben is bounced, and I am to take his
place."

"Heaven be praised!" ejaculated Mrs. Hill.

"I hope you'll soon find a place," said Conrad mockingly, when Ben
left the house, valise in hand.

"I think I shall," answered Ben calmly.




CHAPTER XXX
BEN "GOES WEST"


Undisturbed by the thought that his departure was viewed with joy by
Conrad and his mother, Ben set out on his Western journey.

His destination was Centerville, in Western Pennsylvania.  I may as
well say that this is not the real name of the place, which, for
several reasons, I conceal.

Though Ben was not an experienced traveler, he found no difficulty in
reaching his destination, having purchased a copy of "Appleton's
Railway Guide," which afforded him all the information he required.
About fifty miles this side of Centerville he had for a seat companion
a man of middle age, with a pleasant face, covered with a brown beard,
who, after reading through a Philadelphia paper which he had purchased
of the train-boy, seemed inclined to have a social chat with Ben.

"May I ask your destination, my young friend?" he asked.

Ben felt that it was well for him to be cautious, though he was
pleasantly impressed with the appearance of his companion.

"I think I shall stop over at Centerville," he said.

"Indeed!  That is my destination."

"Do you live there?" asked Ben.

"No," said the other, laughing.  "Do I look like it?  I thought you
would read 'New York' in my face and manner."

"I am not an experienced observer," said Ben modestly.

"Centerville has a prosperous future before it," said the stranger.

"Has it?  I don't know much about the place.  I never was there."

"You know, of course, that it is in the oil region?"

"I didn't even know that."

"A year ago," resumed the stranger, "it was a humdrum farming town,
and not a very prosperous one either.  The land is not of good
quality, and the farmers found it hard work to get a poor living.  Now
all is changed."

Ben's attention was aroused.  He began to understand why Mr. Jackson
wished to buy the farm he rented from Mrs. Hamilton.

"This is all new to me," he said.  "I suppose oil has been found
there?"

"Yes; one old farm, which would have been dear at three thousand
dollars, is now yielding hundreds of barrels daily, and would fetch
fifty thousand dollars easily."

Ben began to be excited.  If he could only sell Mrs. Hamilton's farm
for half that he felt that he would be doing an excellent thing.

"I suppose you are interested in some of the petroleum wells?" he
said.

"Not yet, but I hope to be.  In fact, I don't mind confessing that I
represent a New York syndicate, and that my object in making this
journey is to purchase, if I can, the Jackson farm."

"The Jackson farm!" repeated Ben, his breath almost taken away by his
surprise.

"Yes; do you know anything about it?" asked his companion.

"I have heard of a farmer in Centerville named Peter Jackson."

"That is the man."

"And his farm is one of the lucky ones, then?"

"It promises to be."

"I suppose, then, you will have to pay a large sum for it?" said Ben,
trying to speak calmly.

"Jackson is very coy, and, I think, grasping.  He wants fifty thousand
dollars."

"Of course you won't pay so much?"

"I should hardly feel authorized to do so.  I may go as high as forty
thousand dollars."

Ben was dazzled.  If he could effect a sale at this price he would be
doing a splendid stroke of business, and would effectually defeat the
plans of Mr. Jackson, who, it appeared, had pretended that he was the
owner of the farm, hoping to obtain it from Mrs. Hamilton at a
valuation which would have been suitable before the discovery of oil,
but now would be ludicrously disproportionate to its real value.

"Shall or shall I not, tell this gentleman the truth?" he reflected.

He thought over the matter and decided to do so.  The discovery must
be made sooner or later, and there would be no advantage in delay.

"I don't think Jackson will sell," he said.

"Why not?" asked the stranger, in surprise.  "Do you know him?"

"I never saw him in my life."

"Then how can you form any opinion on the subject?"

Ben smiled.

"The answer is easy enough," he said.  "Mr. Jackson can't sell what he
doesn't own."

"Do you mean to say that he is not the owner of the farm which he
proposes to sell us?"

"That is just what I mean.  He is no more the owner than you or I."

"You speak confidently, young man.  Perhaps you can tell me who is the
owner?"

"I can.  The owner is Mrs. Hamilton, of New York."

"Indeed!  That is a genuine surprise.  Can you give me her address?  I
should like to communicate with her."

"I will cheerfully give you her address, but it won't be necessary,
for I represent her."

"You!" exclaimed the stranger incredulously.

"Yes; and I am going out to Centerville now as her agent.  This
Jackson, who is her tenant, has been urging her to sell him the farm
for some time.  He has offered a sum larger than the farm would be
worth but for the discovery of petroleum, but has taken good care not
to speak of this."

"How much does he offer?"

"Five thousand dollars."

"The rascal!" He offers five thousand, and expects us to pay him fifty
thousand dollars for his bargain.  What an unmitigated swindle it
would have been if he had carried out his scheme!"

"Perhaps you would like to see his last letter?" said Ben.

"I should.  I want to see what the old rascal has to say for himself."

Ben took from his pocket the letter in question, and put it into the
hands of his new acquaintance.

It was dated at Centerville, October 21.  It was written in a cramped
hand, showing that the farmer was not accustomed to letter-writing.

It ran thus:

"Respected Madam:

"As I have already wrote you, I would like to buy the farm, and will
give you more than anybody else, because I am used to living on it,
and it seems like home.  I am willing to pay five thousand dollars,
though I know it is only worth four, but it is worth more to me than
to others.  I offer you more because I know you are rich, and will not
sell unless you get a good bargain.  Please answer right away.

"Yours respectfully,
Peter Jackson.

"P.S.--My offer will hold good for only two weeks."

"He seems to be very much in earnest," said Ben.

"He has reason to be so, as he hopes to make forty-five thousand
dollars on his investment."

"He will be bitterly disappointed," said Ben.

"I don't care anything about Jackson," said the stranger.  "I would
just as soon negotiate with you.  Are you authorized to sell the
farm?"

"No," answered Ben; "but Mrs. Hamilton will probably be guided by my
advice in the mater."

"That amounts to the same thing.  I offer you forty thousand dollars
for it."

"I think favorably of your proposal, Mr. ----"

"My name is Taylor."

"Mr. Taylor; but I prefer to delay answering till I am on the ground
and can judge better of the matter."

"You are right.  I was surprised at first that Mrs. Hamilton should
have selected so young an agent.  I begin to think her choice was a
judicious one."




CHAPTER XXXI
MR. JACKSON RECEIVES A CALL


"Suppose we join forces, Ben," said Mr. Taylor familiarly.

"How do you mean?"

"We will join forces against this man Jackson.  He wants to swindle
both of us--that is, those whom we represent.

"I am willing to work with you" answered Ben, who had been favorably
impressed by the appearance and frankness of his traveling companion.

"Then suppose to-morrow morning--it is too late to-day--we call over
and see the old rascal."

"I would rather not have him know on what errand I come, just at
first."

"That is in accordance with my own plans.  You will go as my
companion.  He will take you for my son, or nephew, and, while I am
negotiating, you can watch and judge for yourself."

"I like the plan," said Ben.

"When he finds out who you are he will feel pretty badly sold."

"He deserves it."

The two put up at a country hotel, which, though not luxurious, was
tolerably comfortable.  After the fatigue of his journey, Ben enjoyed
a good supper and a comfortable bed.  The evening, however, he spent
in the public room of the inn, where he had a chance to listen to the
conversation of a motley crowd, some of them native and residents,
others strangers who had been drawn to Centerville by the oil
discoveries.

"I tell you," said a long, lank individual, "Centerville's goin' to be
one of the smartest places in the United States.  It's got a big
future before it."

"That's so," said a small, wiry man; "but I'm not so much interested
in that as I am in the question whether or not I've got a big future
before me."

"You're one of the owners of the Hoffman farm, ain't you?"

"Yes.  I wish I owned the whole of it.  Still, I've made nigh on to a
thousand dollars durin' the last month for my share of the profits.
Pretty fair, eh?"

"I should say so.  You've got a good purchase; but there's one better
in my opinion."

"Where's that?"

"Peter Jackson's farm."

Here Ben and Mr. Taylor began to listen with interest.

"He hasn't begun to work it any, has he?"

"Not much; just enough to find out its value."

"What's he waitin' for?"

"There's some New York people want it.  If he can get his price, he'll
sell it to them for a good sum down."

"What does he ask?"

"He wants fifty thousand dollars."

"Whew!  that's rather stiffish.  I thought the property belonged to a
lady in New York."

"So it did; but Jackson says he bought it a year ago."

"He was lucky."

Ben and Mr. Taylor looked at each other again.  It was easy to see the
old farmer's game, and to understand why he was so anxious to secure
the farm, out of which he could make so large a sum of money.

"He's playing a deep game, Ben," said Taylor, when they had left the
room.

"Yes; but I think I shall be able to put a spoke in his wheel."

"I shall be curious to see how he takes it when he finds the
negotiation taken out of his hands.  We'll play with him a little, as
a cat plays with a mouse."

The next morning, after a substantial breakfast, Ben and his new
friend took a walk to the farm occupied by Peter Jackson.  It was
about half a mile away, and when reached gave no indication of the
wealth it was capable of producing.  The farmhouse was a plain
structure nearly forty years old, badly in need of paint, and the
out-buildings harmonized with it in appearance.

A little way from the house was a tall, gaunt man, engaged in mending
a fence.  He was dressed in a farmer's blue frock and overalls, and