years.  Why, she looks healthier than you, mother, and will probably
live longer."

Mrs. Hill looked grave.  She did not fancy this speech.

"I don't think we shall have to wait so long," she said.  "When you
are twenty-one Cousin Hamilton will probably do something for you."

"That's almost five years," grumbled Conrad.

"At any rate we have got Ben Barclay out of the house, that's one
comfort."

"Yes, I am glad of that; but I'd rather be in my old place than this,
if I am to get only five dollars a week."

"Young people are so impatient," sighed Mrs. Hill.  "You don't seem to
consider that it isn't alone taking Ben's place, but you have got rid
of a dangerous rival for the inheritance."

"That's true," said Conrad, "and I hated Ben.  I'd rather any other
boy would cut me out than he."

"Do you know what has become of him?"

"No; I expect that he has gone back to the country--unless he's
blacking boots or selling papers downtown somewhere.  By Jove, I'd
like to come across him with a blacking-brush.  He used to put on such
airs.  I would like to have heard Cousin Hamilton give him the grand
bounce."

Nothing could be more untrue than that Ben putting on airs, but Conrad
saw him through the eyes of prejudice, and persuaded himself that such
was the fact.  In reality Ben was exceedingly modest and unassuming,
and it was this among other things that pleased Mrs. Hamilton.

Conrad continued to find his salary insufficient.  He was still more
dissatisfied after an interview with one of his school companions, a
boy employed in a Wall Street broker's office.

He was just returning from an errand on which Mrs. Hamilton had sent
him, when he overtook Fred Lathrop on his way uptown.

The attention of Conrad was drawn to a heavy gold ring with a handsome
stone on Fred's finger.

"Where did you get that ring?" asked Conrad, who had himself a fancy
for rings.

"Bought it in Maiden Lane.  How do you like it?"

"It is splendid.  Do you mind telling me how much you paid?"

"I paid forty-five dollars.  It's worth more."

"Forty-five dollars!" ejaculated Conrad.  "Why, you must be a
millionaire.  Where did you get so much money?"

"I didn't find it in the street," answered Fred jocularly.

"Can't you tell a feller?  You didn't save it out of your wages, did
you?"

"My wages?  I should say not.  Why, I only get six dollars a week, and
have to pay car fare and lunches out of that."

"Then it isn't equal to my five dollars, for that is all clear.  But,
all the same, I can't save anything."

"Nor I."

"Then how can you afford to buy forty-five dollar rings?"

"I don't mind telling you," said Fred.  "I made the money by
speculating."

"Speculating!" repeated Conrad, still in the dark.

"Yes.  I'll tell you all about it."

"Do!  there's a good fellow."

"You see, I bought fifty Erie shares on a margin."

"How's that?"

"Why I got a broker to buy me fifty shares on a margin of one per
cent.  He did it to oblige me.  I hadn't any money to put up, but I
had done him one or two favors, and he did it out of good nature.  As
the stock was on the rise, he didn't run much of a risk.  Well, I
bought at 44 and sold at 45 1-4.  So I made fifty dollars over and
above the commission.  I tell you I felt good when the broker paid me
over five ten-dollar bills."

"I should think you would."

"I was afraid I'd spend the money foolishly, so I went right off and
bought this ring.  I can sell it for what I gave any time."

Conrad's cupidity was greatly excited by this remarkable luck of
Fred's.

"That seems an easy way of making money," he said.  "Do you think I
could try it?"

"Anybody can do it if he's got the money to plank down for a margin."

"I don't think I quite understand."

"Then I'll tell you.  You buy fifty shares of stock, costing, say,
fifty dollars a share."

"That would be twenty-five hundred dollars."

"Yes, if you bought it right out.  But you don't.  You give the broker
whatever per cent. he requires, say a dollar a share--most of them
don't do it so cheap--and he buys the stock on your account.  If it
goes up one or two points, say to fifty-one or fifty-two, he sells
out, and the profit goes to you, deducting twenty-five cents a share
which he charges for buying and selling.  Besides that, he pays you
back your margin."

"That's splendid.  But doesn't it ever go down?"

"I should say so.  If it goes down a dollar a share, then, of course,
you lose fifty dollars."

Conrad looked serious.  This was not quite so satisfactory.

"It is rather risky, then," he said.

"Of course, there's some risk; but you know the old proverb, 'Nothing
venture, nothing have.' You must choose the right stock--one that is
going up."

"I don't know anything about stock," said Conrad.

"I do," said Fred.  "If I had money I know what I'd buy."

"What?" asked Conrad eagerly.

"Pacific Mail."

"Do you think that's going up?"

"I feel sure of it.  I overheard my boss and another broker talking
about it yesterday, and they both predicted a bull movement in it."

"Does that mean it's going up?"

"To be sure."

"I should like to buy some."

"Have you got money to plank down as a margin?"

Conrad had in his pocketbook fifty dollars which he had collected for
Mrs. Hamilton, being a month's rent on a small store on Third Avenue.
It flashed upon him that with this money he could make fifty dollars
for himself, and be able to pay back the original sum to Mrs. Hamilton
as soon as the operation was concluded.

"Could you manage it for me, Fred?" he asked.

"Yes, I wouldn't mind."

"Then I'll give you fifty dollars, and you do the best you can for me.
If I succeed I'll make you a present."

"All right.  I hope you'll win, I am sure [illegible]"

Not giving himself time to think of the serious breach of trust he was
committing, Conrad took the money from his pocket and transferred it
to his companion.

"It won't take long, will it?" he asked anxiously.

"Very likely the stock will be bought and sold to-morrow."

"That will be splendid.  You'll let me know right off?"

"Yes; I'll attend to that."

Conrad went home and reported to Mrs. Hamilton that the tenant had not
paid, but would do so on Saturday.

Mrs. Hamilton was a little surprised, for the Third Avenue tenant had
never before put her off.  Something in Conrad's manner excited her
suspicion, and she resolved the next day to call herself on Mr. Clark,
the tenant.  He would be likely to speak of the postponement, and give
reasons for it.




CHAPTER XXXV
TURNING THE TABLES


"Now Conrad," said Mrs. Hamilton, "will you tell me by what authority
you send away my visitors?"

"I didn't suppose you would want to see Ben," stammered Conrad.

"Why not?"

"After what he has done?"

"What has he done?"

"He stole your opera glass and pawned it."

"You are mistaken.  It was stolen by a different person."

Conrad started uneasily, and his mother, who was not in the secret,
looked surprised.

"I know who took the opera glass," continued Mrs. Hamilton.

"Who was it?" asked the housekeeper.

"Your son, I regret to say."

"This is a slander!" exclaimed Mrs. Hill angrily.  "Cousin Hamilton,
that boy has deceived you."

"My information did not come from Ben, if that is what you mean."

"My son would be incapable of stealing," continued Mrs. Hill.

"I should be glad to think so.  It can easily be settled.  Let Conrad
go with me tomorrow to the pawnbroker from whom I recovered the glass,
and see if he recognizes him."

"He would be sure to say it was me," stammered Conrad.

"At any rate he told me it was not Ben, who made no opposition to
accompanying me."

"I see there is a plot against my poor boy," said Mrs. Hill bitterly.

"On the contrary, I shall be glad to believe him innocent.  But there
is another matter that requires investigation.  Conrad, here is a
letter which has come for you.  Are you willing I should open and read
it?"

"I don't like to show my letters," said Conrad sullenly.

"The boy is right," said his mother, always ready to back up her son.

"I have good reason for wishing to know the contents of the letter,"
said Mrs. Hamilton sternly.  "I will not open it, unless Conrad
consents, but I will call on the brokers and question them as to their
motive in addressing it to a boy."

Conrad was silent.  He saw that there was no escape for him.

"Shall I read it?" asked Mrs. Hamilton.

"Yes," answered Conrad feebly.

The letter was opened.

It ran thus:

"Mr. Conrad Hill:

"You will be kind enough to call at our office at once, and pay
commission due us for buying add selling fifty shares Pacific Mail.
The fall in the price of the stock, as we have already notified you,
exhausted the money you placed in our hands as margin.

"Yours respectfully,"
"BIRD & BRANT."

"I hope, Cousin Hamilton, you won't be too hard on the poor boy," said
the housekeeper.  "He thought he would be able to replace the money."

"You and Conrad have done your best to prejudice me against Ben."

"You are mistaken," said the housekeeper quickly, showing some
evidence of agitation.

"I have learned that the letter which lured Ben to a gambling house
was concocted between you.  The letter I have in my possession."

"Who told you such a falsehood?  If it is Ben--"

"It is not Ben, Mrs. Hill.  He is as much surprised as you are to
learn it now.  The letter I submitted to an expert, who has positively
identified the handwriting as yours, Mrs. Hill.  You were very
persistent in your attempts to make me believe than Ben was addicted
to frequenting gambling houses."

"I see you are determined to believe me guilty," said Mrs. Hill.
"Perhaps you think I know about the opera glass and this stock
gambling?"

"I have no evidence of it, but I know enough to justify me in taking a
decisive step."

Mrs. Hill listened apprehensively.

"It is this: you and Conrad must leave my house.  I can no longer
tolerate your presence here."

"You send us out to starve?" said the housekeeper bitterly.

"No; I will provide for you.  I will allow you fifty dollars a month
and Conrad half as much, and you can board where you please."

"While that boy usurps our place?" said Mrs. Hill bitterly.

"That is a matter to be decided between Ben and myself."

"We will go at once," said the housekeeper.

"I don't require it.  You can stay here until you have secured a
satisfactory boarding place."

But Conrad and his mother left the house the next morning.  They saw
that Mrs. Hamilton was no longer to be deceived, and they could gain
nothing by staying.  There was an angry scene between the mother and
son.

"Were you mad, Conrad," said his mother, "to steal, where you were sure
to be found out?  It is your folly that has turned Cousin Hamilton
against us?"

"No; it is that boy.  I'd like to wring his neck!"

"I hope he will come to some bad end," said Mrs. Hill malignantly.
"If he had not come to the house none of this would have happened."

Meanwhile Ben and his patroness had a satisfactory conversation.

"I hope you are satisfied with my management, Mrs. Hamilton?" said our
hero.

"You have done wonderfully, Ben.  Through you I am the richer by
thirty-five thousand dollars at the very least, for the farm would
have been dear at five thousand, whereas it was sold for forty
thousand."

"I am very glad you are satisfied."

"You shall have reason to be glad.  I intend to pay you a commission
for selling the place."

"Thank you," said Ben joyfully.

He thought it possible Mrs. Hamilton might give him fifty dollars, and
this would have been very welcome.

"Under the circumstances, I shall allow you an extra commission--say
10 per cent.  How much will 10 per cent. amount to on forty
thousand dollars?"

"Four thousand," answered Ben mechanically.

"Consider yourself worth fourth thousand dollars, then."

"But this is too much, Mrs. Hamilton," said Ben, scarcely crediting
his good fortune.

"Then give half of it to your mother," said Mrs. Hamilton, smiling.

"Now we can pay off the mortgage!" exclaimed Ben, joyfully.

"What mortgage?"

Ben told the story, and it aroused the lively sympathy of his
patroness.

"As soon as the purchase money is paid," she said, "you shall have you
commission, and sooner if it is needed."




CHAPTER XXXVI
A LETTER FROM ROSE GARDINER


Ben resumed his place as the secretary and confidential clerk of Mrs.
Hamilton.  He found his position more agreeable when Mrs. Hill and
Conrad were fairly out of the house.  In place of the first a
pleasant-faced German woman was engaged, and there were no more sour
looks and sneering words.

Of course Ben kept up a weekly correspondence with his mother.  He did
not tell her the extent of his good fortune--he wished that to be a
surprise, when the time came.  From his mother, too, he received
weekly letters, telling him not unfrequently how she missed him,
though she was glad he was doing so well.

One day beside his mother's letter was another.  He did not know the
handwriting, but, looking eagerly to the end, he saw the name of Rose
Gardiner.

"What would Rose say," Ben asked himself, "if she knew that I am worth
four thousand dollars?"

The money had been paid to Ben, and was deposited in four different
savings banks, till he could decide on a better investment.  So he was
quite sure of having more than enough to pay off the mortgage and
redeem the cottage.

"Since mother is worrying, I must write and set her mind at rest," he
decided.

He wrote accordingly, telling his mother not to feel anxious, for he
had wealthy friends, and he felt sure, with their help, of paying off
the mortgage.  "But don't tell anybody this," he continued, "for I
want to give the squire and Mr. Kirk a disagreeable surprise.  I shall
come to Pentonville two days before, and may stay a week."

He had already spoken to Mrs. Hamilton about having this week as a
vacation.




CHAPTER XXXVII
BEN'S VISIT TO PENTONVILLE


On the eighteenth of December Ben arrived in Pentonville.  It was his
first visit since he went up to New York for good.  He reached home
without observation, and found his mother overjoyed to see him.

"It has seemed a long, long time that you have been away, Ben," she
said.

"Yes, mother; but I did a good thing in going to New York."

"You are looking well, Ben, and you have grown."

"Yes, mother; and best of all, I have prospered.  Squire Davenport
can't have the house!"

"You don't mean to say, Ben, that you have the money to pay it off?"
asked his mother, with eager hope.

"Yes, mother; and, better still, the money is my own."

"This can't be true, Ben!" she said incredulously.

"Yes, but it is, though!  You are to ask me no questions until after
the twentieth.  Then I will tell you all."

"I am afraid I shall have to send you to the store, for I am out of
groceries."

A list was given, and Ben started for the store.

Mr. Kirk looked up in surprise as he entered.

"You're the Barclay boy, ain't you?"

"Yes, sir."

"I thought you were in New York."

"I was, but I have just got home."

"Couldn't make it, go, hey?"

Ben smiled, but did not answer.

"I may give you something to do," said Kirk, in a patronizing tone.
"You've been employed in this store, I believe."

"Yes, I was here some months."

"I'll give you two dollars a week."

"Thank you," said Ben meekly, "but I shall have to take a little time
to decide--say the rest of the week."

"I suppose you want to help your mother move?"

"She couldn't move alone."

"Very well; you can begin next Monday."

When Ben was going home, he met his old enemy, Tom Davenport.  Tom's
eyes lighted up when he saw Ben, and he crossed the street to speak to
him.  It may be mentioned that, though Ben had a new and stylish suit
of clothes, he came home in the old suit he had worn away, and his
appearance, therefore, by no means betokened prosperity.

"So you're back again!" said Tom abruptly.

"Yes."

"I always said you'd come back."

"Are you going to look for something to do?"  Tom asked.

"Mr. Kirk has offered me a place in the store."

"How much pay?"

"Two dollars a week."

"You'd better take it."

"I hardly think I can work at that figure," said Ben, mildly.

"Kirk won't pay you any more."

"I'll think of it.  By the way, Tom, call around and see me some
time."

"I hardly think I shall have time," said Tom haughtily.  "He talks as
if I were his equal!" he said to himself.

"Well, good afternoon.  Remember me to your father."

Tom stared at Ben in surprise.  Really the store boy was getting very
presumptuous he thought.




CHAPTER XXXVIII
CONCLUSION


On the evening of the nineteenth of December, Ben stood on the piazza
of the village hotel when the stage returned from the depot.  He
examined anxiously the passengers who got out.  His eyes lighted up
joyfully as he recognized in one the man he was looking for.

"Mr. Dinsmore," he said, coming forward hastily.

"You see I have kept my word," said Harvey Dinsmore, with a smile.

"I feared you would not come."

"I wished to see the discomfiture of our friend Squire Davenport.  So
to-morrow is the day?"

"Yes."

"I should like to be on hand when the squire calls."

"That will be at twelve o'clock.  My mother has received a note from
him fixing that hour."

"Then I will come over at half-past eleven if you will allow me."

"Come; we will expect you."

"And how have you fared since I saw you, my young friend?"

"I have been wonderfully fortunate, but I have kept my good fortune a
secret from all, even my mother.  It will come out to-morrow."

"Your mother can feel quite at ease about the mortgage."

"Yes, even if you had not come I am able to pay it."

"Whew!  then you have indeed been fortunate for a boy.  I suppose you
borrowed the money?"

"No; I earned it."

"Evidently you were born to succeed.  Will you take supper with me?"

"Thank you.  Mother will expect me at home."

At half-past eleven the next forenoon the stranger called at door of
Mrs. Barclay.  He was admitted by Ben.

"Mother," said Ben, "this is Mr. Harvey Dinsmore."

"I believe we have met before," said Dinsmore, smiling.  "I fear my