Making His Way; Or, Frank Courtney's Struggle Upward Read online

"I can't say," said Mr. Manning. "I never asked my wife."

  "Do you mean to say, father, that you don't know how the property isleft?" asked Mark, with a sharp glance at his father.

  "I may have my conjectures," said Mr. Manning, softly. "I don't think mydear wife would leave me without some evidences of her affection.Probably the bulk of the estate goes to your brother, and something tome. Doubtless we shall continue to live here, as I shall naturally beyour brother's guardian."

  "Don't call him my brother," said Mark.

  "Why not? True, he is only your stepbrother; but you have lived underthe same roof, and been to school together, and this ought to strengthenthe tie between you."

  "I don't like Frank," said Mark. "He puts on altogether too many airs."

  "I had not observed that," said his father.

  "Well, I have. Only this evening he saw fit to speak impudently to me."

  "Indeed! I am really amazed to hear it," said Mr. Manning, softly.

  "Oh, he thinks he is the master of the house, or will be," said Mark,"and he presumes on that."

  "He is unwise," said Mr. Manning. "Even if the whole property descendsto him, which I can hardly believe possible, I, as his guardian, willhave the right to control him."

  "I hope you'll do it, father. At any rate, don't let him boss over me,for I won't stand it."

  "I don't think he will boss over you," answered his father, in a slow,measured voice, betraying, however, neither anger nor excitement. "Ofcourse, I should not permit that."

  Mark regarded his father fixedly.

  "I guess the old man knows what's in the will," he said to himself. "Heknows how to feather his own nest. I hope he's feathered mine, too."

  Mr. Manning passed from his son's chamber and went softly upstairs,looking thoughtful.

  Anyone who could read the impassive face would have read trouble instore for Frank.

  CHAPTER IV

  MRS. MANNING'S WILL

  During the preparations for the funeral Frank was left pretty much tohimself.

  Mr. Manning's manner was so soft, and to him had been so deferential,that he did not understand the man. It didn't occur to him that it wasassumed for a purpose.

  That manner was not yet laid aside. His stepfather offered to comforthim, but Frank listened in silence. Nothing that Mr. Manning could sayhad the power to lighten his load of grief. So far as words couldconsole him, the sympathy of Deborah and the coachman, both oldservants, whom his mother trusted, had more effect, for he knew that itwas sincere, and that they were really attached to his mother.

  Of Mr. Manning he felt a profound distrust, which no words of his couldremove.

  Meanwhile, Mr. Manning was looking from an upper window down the fineavenue, and his eye ranged from left to right over the ample estate witha glance of self-complacent triumph.

  "All mine at last!" he said to himself, exultingly. "What I have beenworking for has come to pass. Three years ago I was well-nigh penniless,and now I am a rich man. I shall leave Mark the master of a greatfortune. I have played my cards well. No one will suspect anythingwrong. My wife and I have lived in harmony. There will be little wonderthat she has left all to me. There would be, perhaps, but for the mannerin which I have taken care he shall be mentioned in the will--I mean, ofcourse, in the will I have made for her."

  He paused, and, touching a spring in the wall, a small door flew open,revealing a shallow recess.

  In this recess was a folded paper, tied with a red ribbon.

  Mr. Manning opened it, and his eyes glanced rapidly down the page.

  "This is the true will," he said to himself. "I wish I could summoncourage to burn it. It would be best out of the way. That, if foundout, would make me amenable to the law, and I must run no risk. In thissecret recess it will never be found. I will replace it, and thedocument which I have had prepared will take its place, and no one willbe the wiser."

  On the day after the funeral, the family solicitor and a few intimatefriends, who had been invited by Mr. Manning, assembled in the drawingroom of the mansion to hear the will read.

  Mr. Manning himself notified Frank of the gathering and its object.

  He found our hero lying on the bed in his chamber, sad and depressed.

  "I don't like to intrude upon your grief, my dear boy," said hisstepfather, softly, "but it is necessary. The last will of your dearmother and my beloved wife is about to be read, and your presence isnecessary."

  "Couldn't it be put off?" asked Frank, sadly. "It seems too soon tothink of such things."

  "Pardon me, my dear Frank, but it is quite needful that there should bean immediate knowledge of the contents of the will, in order that theright person may look after the business interests of the estate. Iassure you that it is the invariable custom to read the will immediatelyafter the funeral."

  "If that is the custom, and it is necessary, I have nothing to say. Whenis the will to be read?"

  "At three o'clock, and it is now two."

  "Very well, sir; I will come down in time."

  "Of course there can't be much doubt as to the contents of the will,"pursued Mr. Manning. "You are doubtless the heir, and as you are aminor, I am probably your guardian. Should such be the case, I hopethat the relations between us may be altogether friendly."

  "I hope so," said Frank, gravely.

  At three o'clock the members of the family, with a few outside friends,gathered in the drawing room. The family solicitor, Mr, Ferret, held inhis hand what purported to be the last will of Mrs. Manning.

  The widowed husband had directed the lawyer to the bureau of thedeceased lady as likely to contain her will. It was found withouttrouble in the topmost drawer.

  Deborah and the coachman had speculated as to whether they would beinvited to attend at the reading of the will.

  Their doubts were set at rest by an invitation from Mr. Manning himself.

  "You were so long in the service of my dear wife," he said, "that it isfitting that you be present at the reading of her will, in which it isquite probable that you may be personally interested."

  "He is uncommonly polite, I am sure," thought Deborah, disposed for themoment to think more favorably of the man whom she had never been ableto like.

  "My friends," said the lawyer, after a preliminary cough, "you areassembled to listen to the will of Mrs. Manning, just deceased. Thedocument which I hold in my hand I believe to be such an instrument. Iwill now open if for the first time."

  He untied the ribbon, and began reading the will.

  It commenced with the usual formula, and proceeded to a few bequests oftrifling amount.

  Deborah and Richard Green were each left two hundred dollars, "as aslight acknowledgment of their faithful service."

  One or two friends of the family were remembered, but to aninconsiderable extent. Then came the important clause:

  "All the rest and residue of the property of which I may die possessed Ileave to my beloved husband, James Manning, whose devoted affection hasmade happy the last years of my life. Having implicit confidence in hisgood judgment and kindness of heart, I request him to make properprovision for my dear son Frank, whose happiness I earnestly desire. Ihope that he will consent to be guided by the wisdom and experience ofhis stepfather, who, I am sure, will study his interests and counsel himwisely. In my sorrow at parting with my dear son, it is an unspeakablecomfort to me to feel that he will have such a guardian and protector."

  Frank listened with amazement, which was shared by all present.

  Practically, he was disinherited, and left wholly dependent upon hisstepfather.

  CHAPTER V

  DISINHERITED

  The contents of the will created general astonishment. There was not onein the room who didn't know the devotion of Mrs. Manning to her sonFrank, yet, while speaking of him affectionately, she had treated him,as they considered, most cruelly. Why should she have left such adangerous power in her husband's hands?

  And how was Mr. Manning affected?


  He summoned to his face an expression of bewilderment and surprise,and, feeling that all eyes were fixed upon, him, he turned toward thelawyer.

  "Mr. Ferret," he said, "I need hardly say that this will surprises mevery much, as I see that it does the friends who are present. Are yousure that there is no codicil?"

  "I have been unable to discover any, Mr. Manning," said the lawyer,gravely, as he scanned the face of the widower keenly.

  Mr. Manning applied his handkerchief to his eyes, and seemed overcome byemotion.

  "I knew my dear wife's confidence in me," he said, in a tremulous voice,"but I was not prepared for such a striking manifestation of it."

  "Nor I," said Mr. Ferret, dryly.

  "Knowing her strong attachment to Frank," paused Mr. Manning, "I feelthe full extent and significance of that confidence when she leaves himso unreservedly to my care and guidance. I hope that I may be foundworthy of the trust."

  "I hope so, sir," said Mr. Ferret, who, sharp lawyer as he was, doubtedwhether all was right, and was willing that Mr. Manning should be madeaware of his feeling. "It is certainly a remarkable proviso, consideringthe affection which your wife entertained for her son."

  "Precisely, Mr. Ferret. It shows how much confidence the dear departedfelt in me."

  "So far as I can see, the boy is left wholly dependent upon you."

  "He shall not regret it!" said Mr. Manning, fervently. "I consecrate mylife to this sacred trust."

  "You acquiesce in the arrangement, then, Mr. Manning?"

  "I cannot do otherwise, can I?"

  "There is nothing to prevent your settling the property, or any part ofit, on the natural heir, Mr. Manning. You must pardon me for saying thatit would have been wiser had your wife so stipulated by will."

  "I cannot consent to reverse, or in any way annul, the last wishes of mydear wife," said Mr. Manning, hastily. "It was her arrangement solely,and I hold it sacred. She has put upon me a serious responsibility, fromwhich I shrink, indeed, but which I cannot decline. I will do all in mypower to carry out the wishes of my late wife."

  Mr. Ferret shrugged his shoulders.

  "I am not surprised at your decision, sir," he said, coldly. "Few menwould resist the temptation. My duty is discharged with the reading ofthe will, and I will bid you good-afternoon!"

  Mr. Manning was a crafty man. He knew that the strange will would bediscussed, and he thought it best that the discussion should come atonce, that it might be the sooner finished.

  Deborah, faithful old servant, was in a blaze of indignation.

  She went up quickly to Frank, and said:

  "It's a shame, Mr. Frank, so it is!"

  "If my mother made that will, it is all right," said Frank, gravely.

  "But she didn't, Mr. Frank! I know she would never do such a thing. Sheloved you as the apple of her eye, and she would not cheat you out ofyour rightful inheritance."

  "No more she would, Mr. Frank," said the coachman, chiming in.

  "I don't know what to think," said Frank. "It has surprised me verymuch."

  "Surprised you!" exclaimed Deborah. "You may well say that. You mighthave knocked me down with a feather when I heard the property left awayfrom you. Depend upon it, that man knows all about it."

  "You mean Mr. Manning?"

  "To be sure I mean him! Oh, he's managed artfully! I say that for him.He's got it all into his own hands, and you haven't a cent."

  "If it was my mother's will I wouldn't complain of that, Deborah. It washers to do with as she liked, and I know, at any rate, that she lovedme."

  "There's one thing surprises me," said Richard Green. "If so be as thewill isn't genuine, how does it happen that you and I come in for alegacy, Deborah?"

  "It's meant for a blind," answered Deborah. "Oh, he's the artfulestman!"

  "You may be right, Deborah. I must say the will sounded all right."

  "Maybe it was copied from the mistress' will."

  This conversation took place in one corner of the room.

  It ceased as Mr. Ferret advanced toward the disinherited boy.

  "Frank," said he, in a tone of sympathy, "I am very sorry for theprovisions of the will."

  "So am I, sir," answered our hero. "It isn't pleasant to be dependent onMr. Manning."

  "Particularly when the whole estate should be yours."

  "I wouldn't have minded if half had been left to him, provided I hadbeen left independent of him."

  "I appreciate your feelings, Frank. I knew your father, and I am proudto say that he was my friend. I knew your mother well, and I esteemedher highly. I hope you will let me regard myself as your friend also."

  "Thank you, Mr. Ferret!" said Frank. "I am likely to need a friend. Ishall remember your kind proposal. I want to ask you one question."

  "Ask, and I shall answer."

  "Did my mother consult with you about making this will?"

  "No, Frank."

  "Did she ever say anything that would lead you to think she would leavethe property as it is left in this will?"

  "Not a word."

  "Was there another will?"

  "Yes. I wrote her will at her direction more than a year ago. This willis dated only three months since, and, of course, takes precedence ofit, even if the other is in existence."

  "Can you tell me what were the provisions of the other will?"

  "A legacy of ten thousand dollars was left to Mr. Manning, and the restof the estate to you, except the small legacies, which were all largerthan in the will I have read. For instance, Deborah and Richard Greenwere each put down for five hundred dollars."

  "So they suffer as well as I?"

  "Yes."

  "Have you any idea, Mr. Ferret, of the value of the estate which fallsinto Mr. Manning's hands?"

  "I have some idea, because I have talked with your mother on thesubject. This estate is worth fifty thousand dollars at least, and thereare fully fifty thousand dollars in money and bonds. The legacies do notaltogether exceed one thousand dollars, and therefore it may be saidthat your stepfather has fallen heir to one hundred thousand dollars."

  "I suppose there is nothing I can do, Mr. Ferret?"

  "Not unless you can show that this will which I have read is not agenuine document. That would be difficult."

  "Did you notice my mother's signature?"

  "Yes. I am not an expert, but I cannot detect any difference greaterthan maybe existed between two signatures of the same person."

  "Then I suppose there is nothing to be done at present. I expect to havea hard time with Mr. Manning, Mr. Ferret."

  "How has he treated you in the past, Frank?" asked the lawyer.

  "I have had nothing to complain of; but then he was not master of theestate. Now it is difficult, and I think his treatment of me will bedifferent."

  "You may be right. You remember what I said, Frank?"

  "That I should regard you as a friend? I won't forget it, Mr. Ferret."

  One by one the company left the house, and Frank was alone.

  Left alone and unsustained by sympathy, he felt more bitterly thanbefore the totally unexpected change in his circumstances.

  Up to the last hour he had regarded himself as the heir of the estate.Now he was only a dependent of a man whom he heartily disliked.

  Could it be that this misfortune had come to him through the agency ofhis mother?

  "I will not believe it!" he exclaimed, energetically.

  CHAPTER VI

  AN UNSATISFACTORY INTERVIEW

  Frank came to a decision the next morning. A long deferred interviewwith his stepfather was necessary. Having made up his mind, he enteredthe room in which his stepfather sat. His air was manly and his bearingthat of a boy who respects himself, but there was none of the swaggerwhich some boys think it necessary to exhibit when they wish to asserttheir rights.

  Mr. Manning, in a flowered dressing gown, sat at a table, with a sheetof paper before him and a lead pencil in his hand. Short as had been theinterval since his accessi
on to the property, he was figuring up theprobable income he would derive from the estate.

  He looked up as Frank entered the room, and surveyed him with cold andsarcastic eyes. His soft tones were dropped.

  "Mr. Manning," said Frank, "I wish to talk to you."

  "You may, of course," his stepfather replied mildly. "It is about thewill," Frank advised him.

  "So you would complain of your poor mother, would you?" said hisstepfather, in a tone of virtuous indignation.

  "I cannot believe that my mother made that will."

  Mr. Manning colored. He scented danger. Should Frank drop such hintselsewhere, he might make trouble, and lead to a legal investigation,which Mr. Manning had every reason to dread.

  "This is very foolish," he said, more mildly. "No doubt you aredisappointed, but probably your mother has provided wisely. You willwant for nothing, and you will be prepared for the responsibilities ofmanhood under my auspices."

  Mr. Manning's face assumed a look of self-complacence as he utteredthese last words.

  "I have no blame to cast upon my dear mother," said Frank. "If she madethat will, she acted under a great mistake."

  "What mistake, sir?"

  "She failed to understand you."

  "Do you mean to imply that I shall be false to my trust?"

  "Not at present, sir. I don't wish to judge of you too hastily."

  As the boy turned to go, he said. "I have nothing further to say, sir."