Five Hundred Dollars | Page 2

Marlowe is a boy who thinks a good deal of himself. He puts on no end
of airs."
"Like his father before him. Is he a smart boy?"
"Do you mean in his studies?"
"Yes."
"I don't know what he could do if he tried, but he doesn't exert himself
much. He says it isn't necessary for him, as his father is a rich man."
"How is it with you?"
"I only wish I had his chance," said Bert, warmly. "I am fond of study,
but I am poor, and must work for a living."
"You have the right idea, and he has not," said the old man,
sententiously.
At this moment a light buggy was driven swiftly by. Seated in it was a

boy about the age of Bert, apparently, but of slighter figure. The horse,
suddenly spying the old man, shied, and in a trice the buggy was upset,
and the young dude went sprawling on the ground.
Bert grasped the situation, and sprang to the rescue. He seized the
terrified horse, while the old man helped reverse the carriage, which
fortunately had not met with any material damage. The same may be
said of the young driver who, with mortified face, struggled to his feet,
and surveyed ruefully the muddy stains on his handsome suit.
"I hope you're not hurt, Percy," said Bert, with solicitude.
"I've spoiled my suit, that's all," returned Percy, shortly. "What made
you scare my horse?"
"I didn't," answered Bert, with spirit. "What right have you to charge
me with such a thing?"
"Then if it wasn't you, it was that old tramp you were talking with,"
persisted Percy, sullenly.
"Hush, Percy!" said Bert, apprehensive lest the old man's feelings
might be hurt. "You don't know who this gentleman is."
"I never met the gentleman before," rejoined Percy, with ironical
deference.
"Then let me introduce him as your uncle, Jacob Marlowe, from
California!"
Percy's face betrayed much more surprise than pleasure as he
stammered, "Is that true?"
"Yes," answered the old man, smiling calmly; "I have the honor to be
related to you, young gentleman."
"Does father know you are here?"
"No; I am going to call upon him."

Percy hardly knew what to think. He had heard his father speak of
"Uncle Jacob" and indulge in the hope that he had accumulated a
fortune in California. His shabby attire did not suggest wealth, certainly,
but Percy was wise enough to know that appearances are not always to
be relied upon. If this old man were wealthy, he would be worth
propitiating. At any rate, till he knew to the contrary he had better be
polite.
"Will you ride to the house with me, sir?" he asked, considerably to
Bert's surprise.
"No, thank you. There might be another upset. Jump into the buggy,
and I'll walk along after you."
Percy was relieved by this decision, for he had no wish to be seen with
such a companion.
"All right, sir," he said. "I'll see you at the house."
Without a word of acknowledgment to Bert, Percy sprang into the
buggy and drove rapidly away.
"Shall I go with you, Uncle Jacob?" asked Bert.
"No, thank you. I can find the way. Tell your mother that I will call on
her very soon."
CHAPTER II.
UNCLE JACOB'S RECEPTION.
Percy found his father at home, and quickly acquainted him with the
arrival in town of Uncle Jacob. His news was received with interest by
Squire Marlowe.
"Why didn't you invite him to ride home with you?" asked the squire.
"I did; but he preferred to walk."

"What does he look like?"
"Like an old tramp," answered Percy.
Squire Marlowe was taken aback; for, without having received any
definite intelligence from the long absent relative, he had somehow
persuaded himself that Uncle Jacob had accumulated a fortune at the
mines.
"Then he is shabbily dressed?" said the squire, inquiringly.
"I should say so. I say, father, I thought he was rich. You always said
so."
"And I still think so."
"Then why don't he dress better?"
"He is rather eccentric, Percy; and these California miners don't care
much for dress as a rule. I shouldn't wonder if he were worth half a
million. You'd better treat him with attention, for we are his natural
heirs, and there's no telling what may happen."
"Enough said, father. I don't care how he dresses if he's got the cash."
"I must go and speak to your mother, or she will treat him coldly. You
know how particular she is."
Squire Marlowe managed to drop a hint to his wife, who was as
worldly wise as himself, and saw the advantage of being attentive to a
wealthy relative.
By this time Uncle Jacob had reached the door.
Squire Marlowe himself answered the bell,