CHAPTER XXXI.
JOB STANTON'S MISTAKE
There had not been many changes in the little town of Hampton since Ben left it. It was one of those quiet New England villages where life moves slowly, and a death or a marriage is an event.
Uncle Job still lived in his plain little cottage with his wife and daughter, and still plied his humble task as the village cobbler, essaying sometimes to make shoes when there were none to be repaired. There was a plat of land belonging to his house rather more than an acre in extent, but land was cheap in Hampton, and it is doubtful whether both house and lot would have brought, if thrown into the market, over one thousand dollars. Uncle Job had at one time about a hundred dollars in the savings bank in a neighboring town—a fund to draw from in an emergency—and this money with his plain home constituted his entire wealth.
Eleven hundred dollars all told! It was not a very brilliant result for forty years' labor, beginning with the days of his boyhood; but Job Stanton was not ambitious, and he actually felt well-to-do. He earned enough to supply the simple wants of his family, and had something over, and this satisfied him.
But one day a strong temptation came to Job Stanton, and he yielded to it.
A trader came riding over from a neighboring town and called on Uncle Job. The good man thought he had come to order a new pair of shoes, and felt flattered that such a dashing man should have gone so far out of his way to patronize him.
"I'm glad to see you, Mr. Richmond," he said. "Won't you set down?"
He should have said sit, but Job Stanton's educational advantages had been very limited.
"I don't care if I do. Snug place you've got here, Mr. Stanton."
"It's very plain and humble, but it's home, and I set by it," answered Job, who was busily engaged in tapping a shoe belonging to Eliphalet Nourza, a farm-laborer.
"I've come over to see you on a little business, Mr. Stanton," said the trader, affably.
"Jest so!" returned Uncle Job cheerfully, glancing over his spectacles at the trader's shoes to see if they looked much worn. "Want a pair of new shoes, I reckon?"
"I shall need a new pair soon," said Richmond, "but that isn't exactly what I meant."
It flashed across Job Stanton's mind that his visitor might be going to make him an offer for the old place, but he felt that he could not bear to part with it. He had lived there ever since he was married, thirty-five years ago, and there Jennie, the child of his old age, had been born.
But the trader's next sentence relieved him of this thought.
"The fact is, Uncle Job," proceeded the trader, adopting the title by which the shoemaker was generally known in Hampton, "I've got a favor to ask of you."
"'A favor to ask of me'?" repeated Job, looking up with some surprise at the well-dressed merchant, who seemed by his presence to honor the homely little shop.
"Yes," continued Richmond, with gravity; "I want you to indorse my note for five hundred dollars."
"What made you come to me?" asked Job Stanton in surprise. "I am not a capitalist; I am a poor man."
"Oh, well, you're good for five hundred dollars."
"Yes," answered Job with some complacency; "my place here is worth twice that, let alone the money I've got in the savings bank."
"Of course it is."
"Still, I don't want to run no risk. You'd better go to some moneyed man—like Major Sturgis, for instance."
"Why, the fact is, Uncle Job, it's the major that lets me have the money on my note, but he stipulated that I should have an indorser, and he particularly mentioned you."
"That's cur'us!" said Job. "Why should he think of me?"
"Oh, he knew you were a reliable man."
"How does it happen that you need money?" asked Job, bluntly. "Isn't your business good?"
"That's just it," said Richmond, glibly. "It's so good that I've got to extend my stock, and that takes money. I'm turning money over all the time, and it won't be long before I am able to retire."
"I'm glad of that, but I don't quite understand, if that's so, why you're short of funds."
"It's clear you are not a business-man," said Richmond, laughing, "but I think I can explain to you how it is."
He did explain, and the explanation seemed very plausible, yet Job Stanton, who was a cautious man, hesitated.
This brought the trader to his closing argument: "You mustn't think, Uncle Job, that I expect this service for nothing. I am ready to pay you ten dollars for the accommodation, and to order a pair of shoes at your own price."
"That's handsome!" said Job; "and all I've got to do is to sign my name?"
"Just so. It's a mere formality. I shall have the money to pay the note twice over before it comes due."
"Then I wonder the major wants an indorser."
"Oh, it's his invariable custom. 'I know it isn't necessary, Mr. Richmond,' he told me, 'but it's my rule, and I won't break over it, even in your case. If you will get Job Stanton to indorse for you, it will be perfectly satisfactory. I know he is a poor man, but then it's only a form.'"
"Well, I don't know," said Job, doubtfully. "If Ben was here I would ask him."
"You mean your nephew, don't you?"
"Yes, the boy that went to California."
"I'm glad you mentioned him. As soon as he gets back send him to me and I'll give him a place in my store. I've heard he's very smart."
"So he is," said Job, "and I'd like to have him with you, so that he could come to see us once in a while. There ain't no openin' in Hampton."
"Of course not."
"And you'll give Ben a place when he gets home?"
"Certainly; that is, if you indorse my note. I am ready to pay you the ten dollars down."
He drew a crisp bank-note for ten dollars from his pocket, and Job Stanton yielded, for it was a great deal of money to him. I think, however, that he was more influenced by the prospect of obtaining a good place for Ben that would keep him from wandering farther away from home. If he had been shrewder, it would have occurred to him that a prosperous business-man, such as Richmond claimed to be, was unusually anxious for a small accommodation. However, to him five hundred dollars represented a large sum, and it didn't seem at all strange.
So Uncle Job took off his leather apron, ushered his visitor into the sitting-room, and sitting down at the table indorsed the note.
"Thank you," said Richmond. "Here is the ten."
"I don't know as I ought to ask you so much," said Job, with conscientious scruples.
"Oh, that's all right. Now, I'll go into the shop, and you may take my measure for a pair of shoes."
"This has been a lucky day for me," thought Job Stanton. "I've got ten dollars for writing my name, and it isn't often I earn as much as that in a week."
The trader seemed equally pleased, and the two parted in mutual good spirits.
The note was for three months, or ninety days, and Job Stanton thought no more about it. Why should he? Richmond had expressly told him that it was a mere form, and he supposed that this was the case. The ten dollars went to buy new dresses—not very expensive, of course—for his wife and Jennie, and that seemed to be the end of it.
But Job was destined to be undeceived, and that very rudely.
One day he was surprised by a call from his dignified fellow-townsman, Major Sturgis.
"Good-morning, Mr. Stanton," said the major, condescendingly.
"Good-morning, major. I hope your family are quite well."
"Quite well, I thank you."
"What's he come about?" thought Job, wonderingly.
"You indorsed a note for Richmond, the dry-goods man, three months since."
"So I did. Is it really three months?"
"Close upon it, Mr. Stanton. I regret to say that I shall be obliged to call upon you to pay it."
"Me! to pay it!" ejaculated Uncle Job, thunderstruck. "Why, I only indorsed it."
"Precisely. That means that you are to pay it if Richmond doesn't."
"But he will pay it," said the poor shoemaker, eagerly. "He said it was only a matter of form."
"Then he deceived you. I have just received a note from him telling me to look to you."
CHAPTER XXXII.
THE HOUSE IS MORTGAGED
Job Stanton would not have been more utterly overwhelmed if he had seen his treasured home reduced to ashes before his eyes. That he should be responsible for a debt of five hundred dollars seemed to him almost incredible. The trader's representation that indorsing the note was only a matter of form he had accepted as strictly true.
"Well, what are you going to do about it?" asked the major, impatiently.
"'Goin' to do about it'?" ejaculated Job.
"Certainly. When a man indorses a note he knows that he may be called upon to pay, and of course has some plan for doing it."
"I don't know what to do," said the poor shoemaker, sadly. "I can't pay the note."
"Humph! There seems to be only one thing to do, then."
"What is it?"
"You must sell or mortgage your place."
"What! sell or mortgage my house? I can't do that, Major Sturgis."
"Very well. I won't insist on it if you can pay the note in any other way."
"Heaven knows I can't."
"Then, Mr. Stanton," said the major, sharply, "it's time to speak plainly. Unless you do as I suggest, I shall attach your property and compel you to raise the money in the way I indicate."
Job Stanton was mortally afraid of legal proceedings, and after a while he acceded to the major's proposal, which was himself to accept a mortgage for the sum of five hundred dollars secured upon the place. His wife, who had to be told, wept bitterly, for it seemed to her as if they were parting with their main reliance. But Major Sturgis carried his point, and walked off triumphant.
And now for the major's motive, for he had one, and he had artfully made use of Richmond to forward his plan: He was desirous of getting possession of the poor shoemaker's house and land, having in view the purchase of the lot adjoining. Then he would move the house off, throw down the fence between the two lots, build a nice dwelling, and rent it to a city friend who wished to spend his summers in Hampton. He knew very well that Job Stanton wouldn't listen to a proposition for selling his house, and he therefore tried to accomplish by stratagem what he could not fairly.
"Pa, you are looking in good spirits," said Sam Sturgis when his father came home.
"I don't feel so," said the major, hypocritically. "I have had to do a very disagreeable thing this morning."
"What was it?" Sam asked, his curiosity being excited.
"Mr. Richmond the trader owed me a note for five hundred dollars, indorsed by Job Stanton, and as he did not pay it, I had to call on Stanton."
"He couldn't pay—he's too poor," said Sam.
"Not in money, but he owns his place. I have accepted a mortgage for six months' time on his house and lot."
"Suppose he doesn't pay when the time comes?"
"I am afraid I shall have to foreclose the mortgage."
"And he'll have to leave, won't he?"
"Unless he can raise the money some other way."
"There isn't any other way, is there?"
"Richmond might hand over the money by that time."
"Do you think he will?"
"He ought to, but I don't think there is much chance of it."
"Ben will be rather astonished when he comes home and finds his uncle has lost his place."
"Yes, I suppose he will."
"I sha'n't be sorry for him. He puts on a good many airs, considering how poor he is. I wish I knew how he is getting along in California."
"He may get a living there, but that is about all," said the major. "I shouldn't be at all surprised if his uncle came to me for money to get him home."
"You wouldn't let him have it, would you, pa?"
"I might," answered Major Sturgis, "if he would surrender the place to me without putting me to inconvenience."
"Would you take Ben for my servant, pa, in that case?"
"Why do you want him for a servant?"
"I want to humble his pride," answered Sam, with a gleam of something like hatred in his eyes.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
THE BLOW ABOUT TO FALL
All this happened soon after Ben went away. His uncle did not write him of it, for he knew it would trouble the boy, and it could do no good. "No, wife," he said; "Ben will have a hard row of his own to hoe. He mustn't have any part nor lot in our troubles."
"It's very hard, Job, at our time of life," said Mrs. Stanton, despondently.
"So it is, wife, but it may turn out for the best, after all. I haven't given up hope that Mr. Richmond will pay the sum, so that I can take up the mortgage. I'm goin' to see him about it to-morrow."
Uncle Job left his work the next day, and walked five miles to the store of the man who had brought this calamity upon him.
"I've come to see you, Mr. Richmond," he said, wiping his forehead with his red cotton handkerchief, "about that money I've had to pay."
"Oh yes," said Richmond, with his usual suavity. "I'm very sorry it happened so."
"It seems to me you didn't treat me just right," said poor Job.
"Such things will happen, you know, Mr. Stanton."
"But you said it was only a matter of form signin' the note?"
"Of course I so regarded it. I could have sworn I should be ready to pay when the note became due. You see, there was money owing to me that I couldn't collect."
"Didn't you know that was likely to happen when you tempted me to indorse the note?"
"It wasn't likely to happen, but it was possible. My plans miscarried, as any man's are liable to. If you were more used to business, Uncle Job, you'd see that I hadn't acted wrong in the matter."
"I don't understand the ways of business men, but I know you've done me a grievous wrong, John Richmond," said Job Stanton, gravely. "I've come to ask if you can pay me back a part of that money."
"Well, I can't do it this morning. I've got two payments to make. You don't look at it in the right light, Uncle Job."
"I want my money," said the old man. "When can you give it to me?"
"Since you push me so hard, I can only say I don't know," said Richmond, dropping his soft tones and looking angry.
"Is that all the satisfaction you are goin' to give me? Don't you ever mean to pay me that money you've made me pay out on your account, mortgaging my house and risking my home?"
"Of course I shall pay you some time, but I can't say exactly when," said the trader, brusquely.
"Will you sign a note for the money at three months or six months, John Richmond?"
"No, I won't. You'll have to wait, Uncle Job, till I get ready to pay you; that's all about it. I may be ready next week, or it may not be till next month. A business-man can't always foresee how he'll be situated at any definite time."
With this poor consolation Job Stanton had to rest content. He looked around him and saw every evidence of prosperity. Several customers were in the store, and the two clerks seemed to have as much as they could do. He saw money paid over for purchases in considerable amounts, and he felt that a part of it might be spared as a partial payment to him; but it was of no avail, and he turned sadly away.
The next week passed, and the next month passed, and Job Stanton waited vainly for a payment on account from John Richmond. He didn't like to judge the trader harshly, but it did seem as if he was quite indifferent in the matter. Another month passed, and Job made another visit to the store of his prosperous debtor. Richmond wasted few words on him.
"Uncle Job," he said, "it's no use your coming over here. I'll send you the money when I can spare it."
Finally, six months passed, the mortgage became due, and Job received a notice from Major Sturgis that he wanted his money.
"If you can't raise it," said the major, "I am willing to cancel the note, give you two hundred and fifty dollars, and take a deed of the place."
"That is only allowing seven hundred and fifty dollars for it," said poor Job.
"It's all it is worth," said the rich man, coldly. "If you prefer to put it up at auction, I am willing, but you may in that case get less. I'll give you three days to decide."
There was great sorrow in Job Stanton's house that evening. Six months before he had considered himself well-to-do. Now, at the age of sixty, poverty and destitution stared him in the face.
CHAPTER XXXIV.
CONCLUSION
"Do you think we shall have to give up the house, Job?" asked Mrs. Stanton, anxiously.
"I see no other way," said Job, mournfully. "I can't raise five hundred dollars anywhere."
"Have you been to Deacon Pitkin?"
"Yes, but the deacon says he's just put out what money he had, and can't accommodate me."
"It's hard!" said Mrs. Stanton, with sad brevity.
"Yes, it is hard!" assented Job. "I did hope the Lord would show us a way of deliverance, but it seems likely that the sorrow must come upon us."
"How meanly Major Sturgis and that man Richmond have behaved! I can't help feeling that they will be come up with sooner or later," said Mrs. Stanton, who, mild as she generally was, could not help feeling exasperated.
"I do think they've been inconsiderate," Job admitted.
"'Inconsiderate'! Their conduct has been contemptible. The major don't need the money. He could just as well let us stay here."
While this conversation was going on Ben and his friend Bradley were approaching the little cottage.
Full of joyful memories, Ben lifted the latch and walked into the presence of his uncle and aunt. Nothing but his return could have chased the mournful expression from their faces.
"Why, it's Ben come back!" exclaimed his aunt, joyfully.
"Well, I declare, so it is!" answered Job Stanton, hurrying forward and grasping the hand of his boy after his aunt had embraced him.
"How you've grown, Ben!" said his aunt, admiringly.
"Yes, Aunt Clarissa, I've grown four inches," said Ben, proudly. "But I've brought a friend with me.—Jake, come in."
And then Bradley was introduced to Job and his wife, and was cordially welcomed by both.
"You're lucky to come while we've got a home to welcome you to," said Job, his face again saddening.
"Why, Uncle Job, you're not thinking of selling the house, are you?"
Then the whole story came out.
Ben listened attentively, and when his uncle had finished he said, "That Richmond is a first-class rascal."
"And I'd like to give him a first-class kick," said Bradley, indignantly.
"That wouldn't mend matters," said Job, shaking his head. "It wouldn't pay off the mortgage."
"You say the mortgage amounts to five hundred dollars, Uncle Job?"
"Yes. Then there's six months' interest, at six per cent., makes fifteen dollars more."
"When do you expect Major Sturgis to call?"
"This morning. It's almost time for him."
"I met Sam on my way here," said Ben. "He told me I'd come just in the nick of time. I didn't know what he meant, but I know now."
"The major offers to buy the house, paying me two hundred and fifty dollars over and above the note."
"Why, that's robbery!" said Ben, indignantly.
"So it is, Ben; but what can I do?"
"I think," said Ben, smiling, "you'd better borrow five hundred and fifteen dollars of your rich nephew."
"What do you mean, Ben?" asked Job, in surprise.
"I mean this, Uncle Job—that I'll lend you the money to pay up this shark."
"You don't mean to say you've got money enough?" ejaculated Uncle Job.
"Yes, I do, uncle, and a little over. I'll prove it to you."
He produced a wallet, from which he drew out five one-hundred-dollar bills and three fives.
"Take them, uncle, and ask me questions afterward, for I see through the window that the major is coming."
Indeed, a knock was heard directly, and Job, answering it himself, ushered in the stately figure of Major Sturgis.
The major looked around him in surprise, finding more persons than he expected to see.
"Don't you remember Ben, Major Sturgis?" asked Job.
"When did you come home, Benjamin," asked the major, taken by surprise.
"I have just arrived, sir."
"Tired of California, eh?"
"For the present, yes, sir."
"I think my son Sam wishes to see you. He thinks of offering you a place."
Ben bowed and smiled. He understood what sort of a place Sam was likely to offer.
"Well, Mr. Stanton," asked the major, pompously, "have you decided to accept my offer for the house?"
"No, major. Your offer is too small."
"You are quite at liberty to look around for a higher bid, or rather you were. Now it is too late."
"Just so, major. On the whole I don't think I want to sell."
"'Don't want to sell'?" repeated the major, frowning; "you will have to sell."
"Why will Uncle Job have to sell?" demanded Ben, irritated by the major's tone.
"Young man," said the major, grandly, "this is not a matter with which you have anything to do. Your uncle and I can arrange it between ourselves."
"Still, I shall advise Uncle Job to pay the mortgage, though he was swindled into agreeing to it."
"I apprehend," sneered the major, "he will have some difficulty in paying me five hundred and fifteen dollars."
"I guess I can manage to do it, major," said Job, mildly.
"I don't believe you," said the major, hastily.
"Have you got the mortgage with you?" asked Job.
"Yes; here it is."
"And here is your money," said the shoemaker, producing the bills.
Major Sturgis received them in amazement bordering upon stupefaction, and counted them over three times.
"I guess they're all right," said Job.
"Where did you get them?" inquired the major, unable to control his curiosity.
"I guess that doesn't matter so long as they're good," answered Job. "Still, I've no objection to tellin' you that it's Ben's money that he's kindly lent to me."
"Did you bring this from California?" asked the major, turning to our hero.
"Yes, sir," answered Ben.
"Have you any more?"
"I've got enough more, so that I don't expect to need the situation Sam thought of offering me."
When Major Sturgis left the cottage his grand air had passed off, and he looked disappointed and mortified. Sam's spirits, too, were perceptibly dashed when he learned that the boy he disliked had been successful in California.
"That settles the major," said Ben. "This afternoon I will see what I can do in the case of Richmond."
"You can't do anything, Ben," said his aunt. "Leave him to the reproaches of his own conscience."
"He hasn't got any conscience, Aunt Clarissa," said Ben.—"Jake, will you ride over with me to the next town this afternoon?"
"I shall be glad to, Ben."
Ben went at once to the office of an able lawyer, engaged his services, and put the matter into his hands. The result was, that John Richmond received a note by messenger summoning him to the lawyer's office. He at first tried to bluster, then to temporize, but the lawyer was stern and threatened to exhaust the resources of the law in behalf of his clients. Like most bullies, Richmond was a coward, and ended by giving a note for the full amount, with interest, at thirty days.
"You had better leave this note with me," said the lawyer to Ben; "I will collect it when due."
And he did. With a crestfallen air John Richmond had to confess himself defeated in his mean attempt at swindling, for he had obtained Uncle Job's indorsement with the deliberate intention of leaving him to pay the note, supposing that the old man would be too timid to do anything about it.
Ben remained in Hampton a week. During that time he bought the three-acre lot adjoining—the major having given up the purchase when his plan of getting possession of Job Stanton's little property fell through—and gave it to his uncle. This made Job feel like a rich man, and he only accepted it on Ben's assurance that he had plenty more money.
At the end of a week Ben received a letter from Richard Dewey, informing him that he proposed to go into business for himself in the city of New York, and was anxious to engage Ben as a clerk. This offer was too good to refuse. So Ben, a month later, found himself in a responsible business position. As his employer within a few months came into possession of his wife's large fortune, which her guardian was reluctantly obliged to surrender, he was not hampered by lack of capital, but within a year had his business securely established.
Ten years have passed. Ben is now junior partner, and enjoys a high reputation for business ability. A year since he married his cousin Jennie, and in so doing has made a wise choice. He lives in the city, but Uncle Job and his wife still live in Hampton, though Job is no longer compelled to work for a livelihood. He has given up his shop, and confines himself to the cultivation of his small tract of land. Though now seventy, his eye is not dim nor his natural force abated.
Major Sturgis is dead, and Sam, it is understood, has wasted a considerable portion of the handsome property that was left him. It is quite possible that he may end in poverty and destitution, and be forced at last to work for a living. This he would regard as a misfortune, but it will probably be a blessing in disguise, for the necessity of honest labor is generally a salutary restraint.
Bradley has gone back to California. His son in now with him, and both are prosperous. Richard Dewey and his wife are rich and happy (the two do not always go together), and have four children, the second of whom, a boy, is named Benjamin Stanton Dewey, in honor of our hero.
I have endeavored to ascertain what became of our Mongolian friend, Ki Sing, but without entire success. My impression is, that he started a laundry in San Francisco, made enough money for a Chinaman to retire upon, and went back to his native land to live in competence, the happy husband of a high-born Chinese maiden with incredibly small feet. Doubtless, he has more than once retailed to wondering ears the account of his adventures and perils when he, as well as Ben, visited California "in search of fortune."