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Read Ebook: Tom Temple's Career by Alger Horatio Jr Ellis Edward Sylvester Contributor
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Ebook has 2898 lines and 61328 words, and 58 pages
"As soon as you like," said Nathan, who desired that the allowance of twenty dollars a week should commence at once. "To whom am I to send my bills?"
"To me. I am a lawyer, and the executor of Mr. Temple's will."
"I wonder this lawyer didn't try to secure the thousand dollars a year for himself," thought Nathan, and he inwardly rejoiced that he had not done so.
"Am I expected to provide the boy's clothes?" he asked anxiously, the thought suddenly occurring to him. "Is that to come out of the thousand dollars?"
"No; not at all. You will furnish the clothes, however, and send the bills to me. Here is my card."
"I believe my business is at an end," he said rising; "at least for the present. The boy will be forwarded at once. He will probably present himself to you day after to-morrow."
The card which he placed in the hand of Nathan contained the name of
EPHRAIM SHARP,
ATTORNEY-AT-LAW,
CENTERVILLE
"Very well, Mr. Sharp. We will be ready to receive him. Good-morning, sir."
"Good-morning, Mr. Middleton. I hope you will not repent your decision."
"That isn't likely," said Nathan to himself gleefully, when he was left alone. "A thousand dollars a year, and the boy's board won't probably cost me more'n a hundred. We don't pamper ourselves with luxurious living. It is wrong. Besides, it is wasteful. I must go and acquaint Mrs. Middleton with the news."
"Corinthia, my dear, we are about to have a boarder," he said, on reaching the presence of his fair partner.
Corinthia's eyes flashed, not altogether amiably.
"Do you mean to say, Mr. Middleton, you have agreed to take a boarder without consulting me?"
"I knew you would consent, my dear."
"How did you know?"
"You would be crazy to refuse a boarder that is to pay a thousand dollars a year."
"What!" ejaculated the lady incredulously.
"Listen, and I'll tell you all about it."
He told the story, winding up with:
"Now wasn't it right to say 'yes?'"
"How much of this money am I going to receive?" asked his wife abruptly.
Mr. Middleton was taken aback.
"What do you mean, my dear?"
"What I say. Do you expect me to have the care of a boy--I always hated boys--and all for your benefit?"
"We two are one, my dear."
"Not in money matters. I repeat it. I won't take him unless you give me three hundred dollars of the money every year for my own use."
Mr. Middleton didn't like it, but he was finally compelled to give in. After all, it would leave him seven hundred, and at least five hundred would be clear profit.
INTRODUCES TOM TEMPLE.
THE STAGE stopped in front of the Plympton Hotel two days afterward. There were several inside passengers, but with these we have nothing to do. Beside the driver sat a stout boy, with a keen, expressive face, who looked full of life and activity.
"Here you are," said the driver, with a final flourish of the whip.
"I see that, old chap," said the boy; "but I don't stop here."
"Where are you goin' to put up?"
"The man's name is Middleton. He is to have the honor of feeding and lodging me for the present."
"I suppose you mean Nathan Middleton. I don't envy you. He keeps the meanest table in town."
"Does he? Then I shall take the liberty to reform his table."
"I don't believe you can do it. There's only one person in town meaner than old Middleton, and that's his wife. What makes you board with them?"
"Can't help it. He went to school with my father, and he left orders in his will that I should be taken care of by Middleton. You'll take me up there?"
"Yes; you'll have to wait till I land the mail and discharge cargo."
"All right."
A few minutes later Tom Temple was deposited at the gate of his future guardian. Nathan Middleton hastened to welcome him with the consideration due to so wealthy a boarder.
"My dear young friend," he begun expansively, "I am indeed glad to welcome the son of my old friend to my humble home."
If Mr. Middleton expected Tom to reply in a similar manner, he soon realized his mistake. Our hero was not one of the gushing kind.
"All right," he answered coolly. "Will you help me in with my trunk?"
Mr. Middleton mechanically obeyed, not seeing his way clear to any more sentiment.
Mrs. Middleton appeared in the front entry as the trunk was set down.
"Corinthia, my dear, this is the son of my deceased friend, Stephen Temple."
Mrs. Middleton's thin figure was clad in a thin, slazy silk of very scant pattern, and her pinched features wore an artificial smile.
"How do you do, Mr. Temple?" she said.
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