  When Gerald returned to St. Louis after a longer trip than he had originally contemplated, he was cordially received. “You have succeeded remarkably well, Gerald,” said his employer. “I have never before employed so young a traveling salesman, and I may add that I have never sent one out of any age who succeeded as well on his first trip.” “If you are satisfied with me,” said Gerald modestly, “I am very glad.” “It will not be long before I shall have occasion to send you again. Meanwhile I will add five dollars a week to your salary.” It often happens that one piece of good luck follows another. Two days after Gerald’s return he received a letter from John Carter, who, it will be remembered, was left to occupy, rent free, the cabin in Gulchville, which had been Gerald’s old home. This was the material portion of the letter: “I would have written you before, but had nothing to interest you. I have made a good living, having employment most of the time in logging. I am able to live comfortably, and my son Oscar is as happy as the day is long. He is no longer weak and puny, as he was when we first came here, but is strong and healthy, with red cheeks. “Your friend (?) Jake Amsden is drinking more than ever. It is a mystery where he gets his money from. At any rate he seems to have a fair supply. I am sure he does not earn it, for he does not work one day in the week on the average. He seems to be very much interested in this claim, and hinted more than once that he would like to buy it and pay a fair price. I asked him how he expected to pay for it. He answered with an air of mystery that he had a friend who would furnish the money. I am inclined to think this friend is Bradley Wentworth, for I hear at the post-office “This brings me to the important part of my letter. Gulchville is booming! A land company represented by two Chicago men are here, buying up land, with the intention of laying out a town and selling lots. They want this property. It so happens that your land will be in the center of the town, as laid out by them. They tried to open negotiations with me, but I told them I was not the owner. They are anxious to meet you and talk matters over. You may be surprised when I tell you that you can probably get five thousand dollars for the land you own. Of course the cabin don’t count. That I should like to buy from you and move to some land farther away. “I advise you to come on at once, for the parties are in a hurry, and it is best to strike while the iron is hot. The time you will lose in your business won’t amount to anything in comparison with the sum you will obtain from the sale of the property. “I enclose a letter just received for you, bearing the Seneca postmark. I presume you can guess who wrote it. “Yours truly, “John Carter.” This was great news, and made Gerald feel like a rich man, or, rather, boy, but curiosity led him to open at once the letter from Seneca. “It read thus: “Gerald Lane: “I have no particular reason to feel friendly toward you, as you have rejected all my offers made in kindness, but I do not forget that your father and I were young men together. I am aware, of course, that your future is very precarious, as the engagement you have at present with the English tourist is likely to terminate at an early day. What will become of you then? “In view of your unfortunate position I will buy the cabin and land which your father left to you. Its intrinsic value is very small, but I will give you a thousand dollars for it, which I imagine is more than can be got for it five years hence. However, I offer it as a favor to you, who are the son of my old acquaintance and fellow-clerk. It will be necessary for you to give me an early answer, otherwise I shall consider you are blind to your own interest, in which case I cannot promise to leave the offer open. “I send the letter to the care of the man who “Yours, etc., “Bradley Wentworth.” “P. S.—I don’t care to buy the papers, as the sum you are offered for the property will put you in good circumstances.” Gerald smiled as he finished reading this letter. “Evidently,” he said to himself, “Bradley Wentworth knows that there is a scheme to boom real estate in Gulchville. He doesn’t offer enough.” |
|
