Five Hundred Dollars | Page 5

used to plain livin'. It
isn't often I sit down to a meal like this. Do you know, there's nothing
suits me better than a dinner of corned beef and cabbage."
"How vulgar the old man is!" thought Mrs. Marlowe. "He may have
money, but his tastes are very common."
"We never have corned beef and cabbage here," she said, with a slight
shudder.
"Very likely Bert Barton's mother has it very often," suggested Percy.
"My dear," said the squire, urbanely, "if Uncle Jacob really enjoys
those dishes so much, you might provide them for his special use."
"I will think of it," replied Mrs. Marlowe, shortly.
Now that Uncle Jacob had hinted at the possession of wealth, Squire
Marlowe beheld him as one transfigured. He was no longer a common,
shabby old man, but a worthy old gentleman of eccentric ideas in the
matter of wardrobe and manners.
"I wonder if Uncle Jacob wouldn't advance me twenty-five thousand
dollars," was the thought that was passing through his mind as he gazed
genially at his countrified guest. "It would help me amazingly in my
business, and enable me to do double as much. I will mention it to him

in good time."
"I've a great mind to come upon the old man for a handsome birthday
present," thought Percy. "Fifty dollars wouldn't be much for him to give.
I shan't get more than a fiver from the governor."
"Uncle Jacob," said the squire, as they rose from the table, "suppose
you walk over to the factory with me; I should like you to see it."
"Nothing would please me better," said Jacob Marlowe, briskly.
"Will you come along, Percy?" asked his father.
"No, papa," answered Percy, with a grimace. "You know I don't like the
smell of leather."
"I ought not to dislike it," said the squire, with a smile, "for it gives me
a very handsome income."
"Oh, it's different with you," returned Percy. "Just give me the profits
of the factory and I'll go there every day."
"He's a sharp one!" said the squire, with a smile.
"I am afraid he is too sharp to suit me," thought Uncle Jacob. "It seems
to me the boy's mind runs upon money, and his own interests."
The shoe factory was a large building of two stories, and within it was
a hive of industry.
As the squire led the way he explained the various workings to the old
man, who was really curious and interested. It was on a larger scale
than was common at the time he left for California, and the use of
machinery had to a greater extent supplemented and superseded the
work of the hands.
Finally they came to a room where several boys were pegging shoes,
for this work was still done in the old-fashioned way. Uncle Jacob's
eyes lighted up when in one of them he recognized Bert Barton.

He hurried forward, and put his hand on Bert's shoulder.
"So this is your business," he said.
"Yes," answered Bert, with a smile.
"Do you find it hard work?"
"Oh, no! That is, I am used to it. It used to tire me at first."
"Did you tell your mother I was in town?"
"Yes," answered Bert, "and she says she hopes you will call."
"To be sure I will. I may call this evening."
"He's a likely boy, Albert," said Uncle Jacob, rejoining the squire, who
stood aloof with a look of annoyance on his face.
"He works very well, I believe," was the cold reply. "Shall we move
on?"
"Albert doesn't seem to feel much interest in his poor relations,"
thought Uncle Jacob. "Well, it's human nature, I suppose."
"You seem to be doing a large business, Albert," he said aloud.
"Yes; but with a little more capital I could very much increase it,"
rejoined the squire. "With twenty-five thousand dollars now, I would
enlarge the factory to double its present size, and do twice the business
I am now doing."
"I am afraid you want to get rich too fast, Albert."
"It would gratify my spirit of enterprise, Uncle Jacob. I feel that I have
the ability to make a big business success."
"Very likely, Albert. I've seen enough to convince me of that."

"He'll lend me the money if I work things right," Squire Marlowe said
to himself. "He'll be like wax in my hands."
CHAPTER IV.
UNCLE JACOB'S STARTLING REVELATION.
"Uncle Jacob was at the factory this afternoon," said Bert to his mother,
when he went home. "He says he may call here this evening."
"I hope he will. He was my poor mother's favorite brother--always kind
and good-hearted. How is he looking, Bert?"
"He seems in good health for an old man. His face is browned up, as if
he had been