CHAPTER XXIV
STEPHEN RAY AND HIS SON
Leaving Ernest and Luke Robbins on their way to California, our attentionis called to other characters who must play a part in the drama of the boyfrom Oak Forks.
A few miles from Elmira, upon an eminence from which there was a fine viewof the surrounding country, stood the handsome country mansion of StephenRay, already referred to as the cousin of Ernest's father. It passed intohis possession by inheritance from poor Ernest's grandfather, the willunder which the bequest was made cutting off his son for no worse a crimethan marrying a girl thoroughly respectable, but of humble birth.
Stephen Ray, since he came into possession of his uncle's estate, hadimproved it considerably. He had torn down the old stable and built animposing new one. The plain carriage which had satisfied his uncle hadbeen succeeded by an elegant coach, and the slow horse by a pair ofspirited steeds.
Mr. Ray had become pompous, and by his manner made it clear that heconsidered himself a man of great consequence. He was a local magistrate,and had for years endeavored to obtain a nomination for Congress.
Had he been of popular manners, he would probably have succeeded, but hewas not a favorite among the poorer classes, and their vote must beconsidered.
There is an old saying, "Like father, like son," and Clarence, now turnedsixteen, the only child of the country magnate, was like his father in allobjectionable qualities. He was quite as much impressed with ideas of hisown consequence.
It was about three o'clock in the afternoon. Mr. Ray sat on the piazza,the day being unusually warm, reading a newspaper. In the street near by,his son Clarence was moving swiftly on a new velocipede which his fatherhad just purchased for him.
"Out of the way, there!" he called out, as a shabbily dressed strangerwith a weary step plodded along the pathway.
Whether because he was hard of hearing or because his mind waspreoccupied, the stranger did not heed the warning, and Clarence, whomight easily have avoided the collision, ran into him recklessly. Had thewheel been moving at a greater rate of speed, he might have been seriouslyhurt. As it was, he was nearly thrown down.
But he rallied, and seizing the offending rider with no gentle grasp,dragged him from the wheel, and shook him vigorously.
"Let me alone, you tramp!" exclaimed Clarence furiously.
But the stranger did not release his hold.
"Not till you apologize for running into me," he answered sternly.
"Apologize to a man like you!" ejaculated Clarence, struggling furiouslyfor his freedom.
"Will you apologize?"
"There is no need of an apology. You got in my way."
"You have no business on the sidewalk with your wheel. It is meant forfoot passengers."
"Do you know who I am?" demanded Clarence haughtily.
"No, I don't, nor do I care."
"I am Clarence Ray, son of Squire Stephen Ray. He is a magistrate, and hecan send you to jail."
These words of Clarence had the effect he desired. The stranger releasedhim, and eyed him with close scrutiny.
"So you are the son of Stephen Ray?" he said.
"Yes. What have you to say now?"
"That you had no right to run into me, whoever your father may be."
"I shall report your insolence to my father. I shall charge you withviolently assaulting me."
"I might have known you were Stephen Ray's son," said the strangerthoughtfully.
"Do you know my father?" asked Clarence.
"I am on my way to call upon him."
"I don't think it will do any good. He never gives money to tramps."
"I have a great mind to give you another shaking up," said the man, and insome fear Clarence edged away from him.
It was evident that this shabby-looking stranger had not a proper respectfor those who were in a higher station.
"I will tell him not to give you anything," continued Clarence.
"Like father, like son," said the stranger thoughtfully, apparently notdisturbed by the boy's threats.
Evidently he was no common tramp, or he would have been more respectful tothe son of the man from whom he was probably about to ask a favor.
"You just wait till you see my father. He'll give you a lecture that youwon't soon forget."
"You'd better get on your wheel, boy, and go right along," said thestranger calmly.
"Do you know where my father lives?"
"Yes, at yonder fine house. I see him sitting out on the piazza. Shall wego along together?"
"No, I don't keep such company as you."
"And yet some day you may be as poor and friendless as myself."
"That isn't very likely. My father is a very rich man."
"I knew him when he was poor."
More and more puzzled by the independent manner of this shabby stranger,Clarence made a spurt, and soon found himself in the grounds of hisfather's house.
"With whom were you talking, Clarence?" asked Stephen Ray as his sonjoined him on the piazza.
"One of the most impudent tramps I ever came across," answered Clarence."He made an attack upon me, and pulled me from my bicycle."
Stephen Ray's cheek flamed with anger. An insult to his son was an insultto him.
"Why did he do this? How dared he?"
"Because I happened to touch him as I passed," answered Clarence.
"He actually pulled you from your bicycle?" asked Stephen Ray, almostincredulous.
"Yes."
"I should like to meet him. I should feel justified in ordering hisarrest."
"You will have a chance to meet him. He told me he was going to call uponyou--there he is now, entering the gate."
Stephen was glad to hear it. He wanted to empty the vails of his wrath onthe audacious offender.
He was accustomed to seeing men of the stamp of this stranger quail beforehim and show nervous alarm at his rebukes. He had no doubt that hismajestic wrath would overwhelm the shabby outcast who had audaciouslyassaulted his son and heir.
He rose to his feet, and stood the personification of haughty displeasure,as the poor man who dared his anger walked composedly up the path. He nowstood by the piazza steps.
"It is well you have come here," began the squire in a dignified tone. "Myson tells me that you have committed an unprovoked outrage upon him indragging him from his wheel. I can only conclude that you are under theinfluence of liquor."
Stephen Ray waited curiously to hear what the man would say. He wasprepared for humble apologies.
"I am no more drunk than yourself, if that is what you mean, StephenRay."
Squire Ray was outraged and scandalized.
"You must be drunk or you would not dare to talk in this way. Whoauthorized you to address me in this familiar way?"
"You are only a man, I believe, Stephen Ray. I have addressed you asrespectfully as you have spoken to me."
"Respect--to you?" repeated Mr. Ray disdainfully. "Has the time come whenwe must be respectful to tramps?"
"A poor tramp is quite as deserving of respect as a rich rascal."
"What do you mean by that?" demanded the squire suspiciously.
"It was a general remark."
"It is well that it was. But it has no application in the presentinstance. If you are poor I will give you a quarter, but only on conditionthat you apologize to my son."
The stranger laughed.
"Why should I apologize to your son?" he asked.
"You pulled him off his wheel. Do you deny it?"
"No, I do not. Do you know what he did?"
"He brushed against you with his wheel, he tells me, accidentally."
"So that is his version of it? He deliberately ran into me."
"I gave you warning. I said 'Out of the way, there!'" interruptedClarence.
"Yes, but you had no right on the sidewalk."
"It seems to me, sir, that you are remarkably independent for a man ofyour rank. Even if it had been as you say, you had no right to assault
myson. I might have you arrested on your own confession, but I will forbeardoing so on condition that you leave town at once."
"I have a little business with you first."
"If you expect alms, you have come to the wrong man."
"I know very well that you are not charitable. I used to be acquaintedwith you."
"Who are you?"
"My name is Benjamin Bolton."
Stephen Ray looked startled.
"Benjamin Bolton!" he repeated, half incredulous. "I can't believe it."
CHAPTER XXV
A STARTLING DISCLOSURE
"Look at me closely, Stephen Ray," said the strange visitor. "I think youwill see some traces of the Bolton you used to know."
Stephen Ray did examine his visitor closely. Against his will he wasobliged to acknowledge the resemblance of the man before him to one who inpast times had had an intimate acquaintance with his affairs.
"You may be Benjamin Bolton," he said after a pause, "but if so, you havefallen off greatly in your appearance. When I first knew you, you werewell dressed and----"
"Respectable, I suppose you mean to say?"
"Well, respectable, if you will have it so. Now you look more like a trampthan a lawyer."
"True as gospel, every word of it. But it isn't too late to mend. That'san old proverb and a true one. It is quite in the line of possibility thatI should get back to the position from which I fell."
"Perhaps so, but I'm not very sanguine of it."
"With your help nothing is impossible."
"You must not count upon that," said Stephen Ray stiffly. "It is a goodwhile since we parted company. I don't myself care to renew theacquaintance."
"But I do," rejoined Bolton with emphasis.
"I have very little time at my disposal," said Ray, pulling out an elegantgold watch and consulting it.
"I think it may be well for you to spare me a little time," went on Boltonquietly.
There was something in his tone that sounded like a threat, and StephenRay could not wholly conceal his uneasiness.
"Well," he said, "I will give you ten minutes. Get through your business,whatever it is, as soon as possible."
"Hadn't you better send your son away?" suggested Bolton significantly.
"Why should I?"
But on second thoughts Mr. Ray concluded to act on the hint, and turningto Clarence he said: "Clarence, you might take another spin on yourwheel."
This did not suit Clarence at all. His curiosity had been excited by hisfather's change of front toward the objectionable stranger, and he countedon finding out the reason for it.
"Why can't I stay?" he grumbled.
"This man and I have a little private business together."
He spoke firmly, and Clarence knew by his tone that further remonstrancewould be unavailing, so with a dissatisfied look he left the room.
"Now, sir," said Stephen Ray sharply, when his son had taken hisdeparture. "I gave you ten minutes. You will need to be expeditious."
"It will take more than ten minutes--what I have to say," returned Boltoncoolly. "I am rather tired of standing, so you will excuse me if I sitdown."
As he spoke he dropped into a comfortable chair three feet from his host.
"Confound his impudence!" thought Ray, much annoyed.
"I think we had better go indoors," he said.
He did not care to be seen in an apparently friendly conversation with aman like Bolton.
"I think myself it may be better."
He followed Ray into a room which the latter used as a library and office,and took care to select a comfortable seat.
"Really, Stephen Ray," he remarked, glancing around him at the well-filledbookcases, the handsome pictures, and the luxurious furniture, "you arevery nicely fixed here."
"I suppose you didn't come to tell me that," responded Stephen Ray with asneer.
"Well, not altogether, but it is as well to refer to it. I have known youa good many years. I remember when you first came here to visit your unclein the character of a poor relation. I don't believe you had a hundreddollars to your name."
Such references grated upon the purse-proud aristocrat, who tried topersuade himself that he had always been as prosperous as at present.
"There is no occasion for your reminiscences," he said stiffly.
"No, I suppose you don't care to think of those days now. Your cousin,Dudley, a fine young man, was a year or two older. Who would have thoughtthat the time would come when you--the poor cousin--would be reigning inhis place?"
"If that is all you have to say, our interview may as well close."
"It isn't all I have to say. I must indulge in a few more reminiscences,though you dislike them. A few years passed. Dudley married against hisfather's wishes; that is, his father did not approve of his selection, andhe fell out of favor. As he lost favor you gained it."
"That is true enough, but it is an old story."
"Does it seem just that an own son should be disinherited and astranger----"
"A near relative," corrected Stephen Ray.
"Well, a near relative, but less near than an only son. Does it seem rightthat Dudley should have been disinherited and you put in his place?"
"Certainly. My cousin disobeyed his father."
"So he was left in poverty."
"I don't see how that concerns you, Benjamin Bolton. My uncle had theright to dispose of his property as he pleased."
"Probably Dudley Ray is living in poverty now."
"You are mistaken. He is dead."
"Indeed! Poor fellow! He was a generous and high-minded man."
"Whatever he may have been, he offended his father, and suffered theconsequences."
"Too true!"
"But I fail to understand why you should have come to discuss this matterwith me."
"When did Dudley die?"
"I can't be sure as to the year. I think it was about a year after hisfather's death."
"I presume that his father's injustice helped to hasten his end."
"I won't permit any reflections upon my dear uncle and benefactor. He didwhat he liked with his own. He felt that the estate would be better in myhands than in Dudley's."
"Admitting for a moment that this was so, did your heart prompt you tobestow a part of the estate on your unfortunate cousin?"
"No; for I am sure my uncle would have disapproved of such action on mypart."
"Do you know if he suffered much from poverty?"
"No; I did not concern myself with that, nor need you."
"I would like to comment on one of your statements. You say that youruncle had a right to dispose of his estate as he pleased."
"Do you dispute it?"
"No; I agree with you. Stephen Ray, was his estate disposed of accordingto his wishes?"
Mr. Ray started, and his face became flushed.
"What do you mean?" he asked.
"I mean that he bequeathed the estate to his son, and you took possessionof it."
Bolton spoke slowly, and eyed Stephen Ray keenly.
"Are you mad?" gasped Stephen. "How could I do that? His will, devisingthe estate to me, was duly probated, and I entered upon my inheritance bydue process of law."
"I know such a will was probated."
"Then what have you to say?" demanded Stephen Ray defiantly. "Do you meanto deny that the will was genuine?"
"No."
"Because if you do, you can go to the probate office, and submit the willto any judge of my uncle's handwriting."
"There will be no occasion. I admit that the will was written by him."
"What do you mean, then?" asked Stephen Ray, showing relief.
"I mean this--that it was not his last will and testament."
"Where is a later one? Produce it if you can?" said Stephen Raytriumphantly.
"You say this fearlessly because you found a later will--and destroyedit."
"It is a vile slander!"
"No; I will swear that such a will was m
ade."
"If it was destroyed, he destroyed it himself."
"No, he did not. I am willing to swear that when he died that will was inexistence."
"I don't think your swearing will do much good," sneered Stephen Ray.
"Perhaps so, but one thing has not occurred to you."
"What is that?"
"A duplicate of the last will was placed in my hands. That will existsto-day!"
Stephen Ray started violently.
"I don't believe it," he said.
"Seeing is believing."
"Then bring it here, and let me see it. However, there is one materialcircumstance that would make it of no value."
"What is it?"
"My cousin Dudley is dead, and so is his son Ernest. There would be no oneto profit by the production of the alleged will."
Bolton was quite taken aback by this statement, as Stephen Ray perceived,and he plumed himself on the success of his falsehood.
"When did the boy die?" asked Bolton.
"About five years ago."
"And where?"
"At Savannah," answered Ray glibly.
"What should have taken him down there?"
"I am not positive, but I believe after his father's death a Southerngentleman became interested in him and took him to Georgia, where the poorboy died."
Bolton looked keenly at the face of his companion, and detected anexpression of triumph about the eyes which led him to doubt the truth ofhis story. But he decided not to intimate his disbelief.