his gray, stubby beard seemed to be of a week's growth.  There was a
crafty, greedy look in his eyes, which overlooked a nose sharp and
aquiline.  His feet were incased in a pair of cowhide boots.  He
looked inquiringly at Taylor as he approached, but hardly deigned to
look at Ben, who probably seemed too insignificant to notice.  He gave
a shrewd guess at the errand of the visitor, but waited for him to
speak first.

"Is this Mr. Jackson?" asked Taylor, with a polite bow.

"That's my name, stranger," answered the old man.

"My name is Taylor.  I wrote to you last week."

"I got the letter," said Jackson, going on with his work.  It was his
plan not to seem too eager but to fight shy in order to get his price.
Besides, though he would have been glad to close the bargain on the
spot, there was an embarrassing difficulty.  The farm was not his to
sell, and he was anxiously awaiting Mrs. Hamilton's answer to his
proposal.

"She can't have heard of the oil discoveries," he thought, "and five
thousand dollars will seem a big price for the farm.  She can't help
agreeing to my terms."

This consideration made him hopeful, but for all that, he must wait,
and waiting he found very tantalizing.

"Have you decided to accept my offer, Mr. Jackson?"

"Waal, I'll have to take a leetle time to consider.  How much did you
say you'd give?"

"Forty thousand dollars."

"I'd ought to have fifty."

"Forty thousand dollars is a big sum of money."

"And this farm is a perfect gold mine.  Shouldn't wonder if it would
net a hundred thousand dollars."

"There is no certainty of that, and the purchasers will have to take a
big risk"

"There isn't much risk.  Ask anybody in Centerville what he thinks of
the Jackson farm."

"Suppose I were ready to come to your terms--mind, I don't say I
am--would you sign the papers to-day?"

Jackson looked perplexed.  He knew could not do it.

"What's your hurry?" he said.

"The capitalists whom I represent are anxious to get to work as soon
as possible.  That's natural, isn't, it?"

"Ye-es," answered Jackson.

"So, the sooner we fix matters the better.  I want to go back to New
York to-morrow if I can."

"I don't think I can give my answer as soon as that.  Wait a minute,
though."

A boy was approaching, Jackson's son, if one could judge from the
resemblance, holding a letter in his hand.

"Come right here, Abner," he called out eagerly.

Abner approached, and his father snatched the letter from his hand.
It bore the New York postmark, but, on opening it, Jackson looked
bitterly disappointed.  He had hoped it was from Mrs. Hamilton,
accepting his offer for the farm; but, instead of that, it was an
unimportant circular.

"I'll have to take time to think over your offer, Mr. Taylor," he
said.  "You see, I'll have to talk over matters with the old woman."

"By the way," said Taylor carelessly, "I was told in the village that
you didn't own the farm--that it was owned by a lady in New York."

"She used to own it," said the fanner, uneasily; "but I bought it of
her a year ago."

"So that you have the right to sell it?"

"Of course I have."

"What have you to say to that, Ben?" asked Taylor quietly.

"That if Mrs. Hamilton has sold the farm to Mr. Jackson she doesn't
know it."

"What do you mean, boy?" gasped Jackson.

"I mean that when I left New York Mrs. Hamilton owned the farm."

"It's a lie!" muttered the farmer; but he spoke with difficulty.  "I
bought it a year ago."

"In that case it is strange that you should have written a week ago
offering five thousand dollars for the farm."

"Who says I wrote?"

"I do; and I have your letter in my pocket," answered Ben firmly.




CHAPTER XXXII
BEN SELLS THE FARM


The farmer stared at Ben panic-stricken.  He had thought success
within his grasp.  He was to be a rich man--independent for life--as
the result of the trick which he was playing upon Mrs. Hamilton.  His
disappointment was intense, and he looked the picture of discomfiture.

"I don't believe you," he faltered after a pause.

Ben drew a letter from his inside pocket and held it up.

"Do you deny the writing?" he said.

"Give it to me!" said Jackson, with a sudden movement.

"No, thank you; I prefer to keep it.  I shall make no use of it unless
it is necessary.  I called here to notify you that Mrs. Hamilton does
not propose to sacrifice the farm.  If it is sold at all it will be to
someone who will pay its full value."

"You can't sell it," said Jackson sullenly.  "I have a lease."

"Produce it."

"At any rate, I shall stay till my year's out."

"That will depend upon the new owner.  If he is willing, Mrs. Hamilton
will not object."

"I think you've got him there, Ben," said Mr. Taylor, with a laugh.
"Mr. Jackson, I think it won't be worth while to continue our
conversation.  You undertook to sell what was not yours.  I prefer to
deal with the real owner or her representative."

"That boy is an impostor!" muttered Jackson.  "Why, he's only a school
boy.  What does he know about business?"

"I think he has proved a match for you.  Good-morning, Mr. Jackson.
Ben, let us be going."

"Now," said Taylor as they were walking toward the inn, "what do you
say to my offer?"

"Please state it, Mr. Taylor."

"I offer forty thousand dollars for the farm.  It may be worth
considerably more than that; but, on the other hand, the wells may
soon run dry.  I have to take the chances."

"That seems a fair offer, Mr. Taylor," said Ben frankly.  "If I were
the owner I would accept it; but I am acting for another who may not
think as I do."

"Will you consult her and let me know?"

"I will write at once."

"Why not telegraph?  The delay would be too great if you trust to the
mail."

"I will do as you suggest," answered Ben, "if there is an opportunity
to telegraph from this place."

"There is an office at the depot."

"Then I will take that on my way back to the hotel."

At one corner of the depot Ben found a telegraph operator.  After a
little consideration, he dashed off the following telegram:

"No. ---- Madison Avenue, New York.

"To Mrs. Hamilton:

"Oil has been discovered on your farm.  I am offered forty thousand
dollars for it by a responsible party.  What shall I do?

"Ben Barclay."

"Send answer to the hotel," said Ben, to the operator.

Four hours later a messenger brought to Ben the following dispatch:

"Your news is most surprising.  Sell at the figure named if you think
it best.  You have full powers.

"Helen Hamilton."

Mr. Taylor watched Ben's face eagerly as he read the telegram, for he
knew that it must relate to his offer.

"What does your principal say?" he inquired.

"You can read the telegram, Mr. Taylor."

Taylor did so.

"So you have full powers?" he said.  "Mrs. Hamilton must feel great
confidence in you."

There was a proud flush on Ben's cheek as he replied:

"I have reason to think that she does.  I hope it is not misplaced."

"I hope you won't drive a hard bargain with me, Ben."

"I don't mean to bargain at all.  You have made a fair offer, and I
will accept it."

Taylor looked pleased.

"Some boys in your position," he said, "would have stipulated for a
present."

"I shall do nothing of the kind," said Ben promptly.  "I should not
think it honest."

"Your honesty, my boy, is of the old-fashioned kind.  It is not the
kind now in vogue.  I like you the better for it, and if you were not
in Mrs. Hamilton's employ I would try to secure your services myself."

"Thank you, Mr. Taylor.  The time may come when shall remind you of
your promise."

"You will find I have not forgotten it.  And now to business.  We will
go to a lawyer and have the necessary papers drawn up, which you shall
sign in behalf of your principal."

The business was speedily arranged, and by supper-time Ben found that
he had nothing further to detain him in Centerville.  He felt that he
had done a smart stroke of business.  Mrs. Hamilton had been surprised
at receiving an offer of five thousand dollars for the farm, yet he
had sold it for forty thousand!

As they were returning from the lawyer's office they met farmer
Jackson just returning from the post office.

"By the way, Mr. Jackson," said Taylor, "you will perhaps be
interested to learn that your farm has been sold."

The farmer paused, and looked troubled.

"Are you going to turn me out of the house?" he asked.

"Not if you wish to live in it.  I shall employ workmen at once to
sink wells, and develop the property.  They will need to board
somewhere.  Are you willing to board them?"

"Yes; I shall be glad to," answered Jackson.  "I am a poor man, and
it's hard work living by farming."

"Very well; we can no doubt make an arrangement.  I am obliged to go
to New York to complete arrangements for the transfer of the property,
but I shall come back as soon as possible and commence operations."

"I wouldn't mind workin' for myself," said Jackson.

"Then you are the first man I engage."

The old farmer brightened up.  He was to make money out of the new
discoveries after all, though not in the way he had comtemplated.

"When are you going back to New York, Ben?" asked Taylor.

"There is nothing to detain me here any longer."

"We can go back together, then."

"I shall be glad to travel in your company, sir."

"Do you expect to remain in Mrs. Hamilton's employ?"

"I don't know," answered Ben.

"What were you doing?"

"Keeping accounts and acting as her private secretary."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes; I find it very pleasant, or would be but for one thing."

"What is that?"

"She has relatives living in the house who do not like me."

"Jealous, eh?"

"Perhaps so."

"Let me say frankly, that you are fitted for something higher.  I am a
good judge of men--"

Ben smiled.

"Boys, then; and I consider you a boy of excellent business capacity.
After I have got my oil wells under way, I should like to engage you
as superintendent."

"I am flattered by your good opinion, Mr. Taylor, but it is a business
I know nothing of."

"You would make it your business to learn it, or I mistake you."

"You are right there, sir."

"However, there will be plenty of time to arrange about this matter.
It would probably be two months before I felt justified in leaving
another in charge."

The two started for New York.  About fifty miles before reaching the
city, as Ben was reading a magazine he had purchased from the
train-boy, he felt a touch upon his shoulder.

Looking up, he recognized, to his amazement, the tramp with whom he
had had an adventure some weeks before in Pentonville.

"I see you know me," said the tramp, with a smile.




CHAPTER XXXIII
GOOD NEWS


The tramp, as we may call him for want of a different name, certainly
showed signs of improvement in his personal appearance.  He looked
quite respectable, in fact, in a business suit of gray mixed cloth,
and would have passed muster in any assemblage.

"I think I have met you before," answered Ben, with a smile.

"Perhaps it would have been more of a compliment not to have
recognized me.  I flatter myself that I have changed."

"So you have, and for the better."

"Thank you.  I believe we rode together when we last met."

"Yes," said Ben.

"And you were not sorry to part copy with me--is it not so?"

"I won't contradict you."

"Yet I am inclined to be your friend."

"I am glad of it," said Ben politely, though, truth to tell, he did
not anticipate any particular benefit to accrue from the acquaintance
of the speaker.

"I see you don't attach much importance to my offer of friendship.
Yet I can do you an important service."

Mr. Taylor, who had been occupying a seat with Ben, here arose.

"You have something to say to my young friend," he said.  "Take my
seat."

"Don't let me deprive you of it," said the other with a politeness Ben
had not deemed him capable of.

"By no means.  I am going into the smoking car to smoke a cigar.  Ben,
I will be back soon."

"I didn't expect to meet you so far from Pentonville," said Ben's new
companion, unable to suppress his curiosity.

"I don't live in Pentonville now."

"Where then?"

"In the city of New York."

"Are you employed there?"

"Yes; but I am just returning from a trip to Western Pennsylvania."

"Did you go on business?"

"Yes."

"Well, you are getting on, for a country boy.  What do you hear from
home?"

"My mother is well, but I fancy that is not what you mean."

"Yes, I am interested about your mother.  Has she yet paid off that
mortgage on her cottage?"

"How did you know there was a mortgage," asked Ben, in surprise.

"I know more than you suppose.  What are the chances that she will be
able to pay?"

"They are very small," answered Ben, gravely, "but the money is not
yet due."

"When will it be due?"

"In about six weeks."

"Squire Davenport will foreclose--I know him well enough for that."

"So I suppose," said Ben, soberly.

"Is there no friend who will oblige you with the money?"

"I don't know of anyone I should feel at liberty to call on."

It came into his mind that Mrs. Hamilton was abundantly able to help
them, but she did not know his mother, and it would savor of
presumption for him to ask so great a favor.  True, he had effected a
most profitable sale for her, but that was only in the line of his
faithful duty, and gave him no claim upon his employer.

"I thought, perhaps, the gentlemen you were traveling with--the one
who has gone info the smoking-car--might--"

"He is only a business acquaintance; I have known him less than a
week."

"To be sure, that alters matters.  He is not your employer, then?"

"No."

"Then I believe I shall have to help you myself."

Ben stared at his companion in amazement.  What!  this man who had
robbed him of a dollar only four weeks before, to offer assistance in
so important a matter!

"I suppose you are joking," said he, after a pause.

"Joking!  Far from it.  I mean just what I say.  If Squire Davenport
undertakes to deprive your mother of her home, I will interfere, and,
you will see, with effect."

"Would you mind explaining to me how you would help us?" asked Ben.

"Yes, in confidence, it being understood that I follow my own course
in the matter."

"That is fair enough."

"Suppose I tell you, then, that Squire Davenport--I believe that is
the title he goes by in your village--owes your mother more than the
amount of the mortgage."

"Is this true?" said Ben, much surprised.

"It is quite true."

"But how can it be?"

"Your father, at his death, held a note of Davenport's for a thousand
dollars--money which he had placed in his hands--a note bearing six
per cent. interest."

Ben was more and more surprised; at first he was elated, then
depressed.

"It will do me no good," he said, "nothing was found at father's
death, and the note is no doubt destroyed."

"So Squire Davenport thinks," said his companion quietly.

"But isn't it true?"

"No; that note not only is in existence, but I knew where to lay my
hands on it."

"Then it will more than offset the mortgage?" said Ben joyfully.

"I should say.  No interest has been paid on the note for more than
five years.  The amount due must be quite double the amount of the
mortgage."

"How can I thank you for this information?" said Ben.  "We shall not
be forced to give up our little cottage, after all.  But how could
Squire Davenport so wickedly try to cheat us of our little property?"

"My dear boy," said the tramp, shrugging his shoulders, "your question
savors of verdancy.  Learn that there is no meanness too great to be
inspired by the love of money."

"But Squire Davenport was already rich."

"And for that reason he desired to become richer."

"When shall we go to see the squire and tell him about the note?"

"I prefer that you should wait till the day the mortgage comes due.
When is that?"

"On the twentieth of December."

"Then on the nineteenth of December we will both go to Pentonville and
wait till the squire shows his hand."

"You seem to be--excuse me--in better circumstances than when we last
met."

"I am.  An old uncle of mine died last month, and considerately left
me ten thousand dollars.  Perhaps if he had known more about my way of
life he would have found another heir.  It has led me to turn over a
new leaf, and henceforth I am respectable, as befits a man of
property.  I even keep a card case."

He drew out a card case and handed a card to Ben.  It bore the name of
Harvey Dinsmore.

"Mr. Dinsmore," said our young hero, I rejoice at your good fortune."

"Thank you.  Shall we be friends?"

"With pleasure."

"Then I have more good news for you.  Your father owned twenty-five
shares in a Western railway.  These shares are selling at par, and a
year's dividends are due."

"Why, we shall be rich," said Ben, fairly dazzled by this second
stroke of good fortune.

"I hope so; though this is only a beginning."

"How can we prove that the railway shares belong to us?"

"Leave that to me.  On the nineteenth of December you will meet me in
Pentonville.  Till then we probably shall not meet."

At this moment Mr. Taylor made his appearance, returning from the
smoking-car, and Harvey Dinsmore left them.

"Well, Ben, has your friend entertained you?" asked Taylor.

"He has told me some very good news."

"I am glad to hear it."

In due time they reached New York, and Ben started uptown to call upon
Mrs. Hamilton.




CHAPTER XXXIV
CONRAD GOES INTO WALL STREET


When Conrad succeeded Ben as Mrs. Hamilton's private secretary, he was
elated by what he considered his promotion.  His first disappointment
came when he learned that his salary was to be but five dollars a
week.  He did not dare to remonstrate with his employer, but he
expressed himself freely to his mother.

"Cousin Hamilton might afford to pay me more than five dollars a
week," he said bitterly.

"It is small," said his mother cautiously, "but we must look to the
future."

"If you mean till Cousin Hamilton dies, it may be twenty or thirty