Five Hundred Dollars; or, Jacob Marlowe's Secret

"You are willing to have the matter go to trial?"

"Albert," put in Uncle Jacob, "it appears to me that you are in a bad box. Ralph Harding's testimony is sure to convict you. Will you take my advice?"

"What is it?" asked the squire, sullenly.

"Accept the offer made to John Barton under a misapprehension. Repay to Mr. Manning the value of the stolen bonds–"

"With interest attached," interposed Manning.

"And he will drop the matter. Am I right, Mr. Manning?"

"Yes, sir."

"It will amount to about double the original sum—say twelve thousand dollars."

"I can't raise so large an amount in cash."

"You are worth more?"

"Yes; but not in ready money."

"I will advance it to you, and take a bill of sale of the factory and your house," said Uncle Jacob.

All eyes were turned upon the old man in amazement.

"But where will you get the money?" gasped the squire.

"I can raise ten times that sum, if necessary."

"But I thought you were a poor man?"

"I never told you so. I said I had five hundred dollars; but I didn't add that I am worth at least two hundred thousand dollars more. That was my secret!"

"You said that you invested all your money in some mining shares that depreciated to nothing."

"I foresaw the decline, and sold out at a small loss."

"Why did you deceive us?" asked the squire, irritably.

"I wanted to test you all. When you thought me poor, you gave me my walking ticket; but Mary here," and Uncle Jacob glanced affectionately at Mrs. Barton, "gave me a warm welcome, though she thought me nearly as poor as herself. I shall not forget it. Bert also did not look down upon his old uncle, even though he had little to expect from him."

"But, Uncle Jacob," said Bert, "why, if you are so rich, do you work for twelve dollars a week?"

"It was a harmless deception, Bert," he replied. "I am at the head of the office where you think me employed, and president of one of the richest mines on the Pacific Coast."

"Mr. Marlowe," said the squire, not venturing upon the familiar name of Uncle Jacob, "instead of advancing money on my house, factory, and stock, are you willing to buy them outright?"

"At what sum do you value them?"

"Fifteen thousand dollars."

"It is a bargain," said Uncle Jacob promptly.

"You may feel disposed to run the business yourself."

"It is out of my line. I shall make a free gift of the whole to John Barton, who, I suppose, is quite capable of taking your place."

"How can I thank you?" said Mr. Barton, much moved.

"By making Mary happy. Now, Mr. Manning, if you and Albert Marlowe will call to-morrow at my office in New York we will complete the business. John, I shall not need you; but Bert will go with me and bring you back the deeds of the property I propose to transfer to you."

That evening was a happy one in the Barton cottage, but there was vain regret and dissatisfaction at the home of Albert Marlowe. Too late they all regretted that they had received Uncle Jacob so coldly, and so forfeited, in all probability, their chances of sharing his wealth. Percy's great regret was that that Barton boy should be lifted above him.

A month later, and the changes had taken place. The Bartons moved to Squire Marlowe's handsome house, and John Barton was installed as owner and head of the shoe factory. Bert was placed at an academy, where he will remain till he has acquired a good education, and then will enter Uncle Jacob's office in the city. He bids fair to redeem the promise of his boyhood, and become an upright and manly man. Ralph Harding has been made superintendent of the factory, and enjoys the confidence of John Barton, who is happy in the society of his wife, of which he was deprived for so many years.

Albert Marlowe, with the remainder of his money, went to Illinois, and has established a small shoe factory out there. He is a discontented and unhappy man, and his wife is peevish and discontented also. They can no longer afford the expensive establishment they maintained in Lakeville. Percy has not lost all hopes of being remembered in the will of his wealthy relative, but whether he will or not is Jacob Marlowe's Secret.

THE END