Only an Irish Boy; Or, Andy Burke's Fortunes, Jr. Horatio Alger [best ebook reader for surface pro txt] 📗

Colonel Preston, as I have already said, was a rich man. He owned no real estate in the town of Crampton, except the house in which he lived. His property was chiefly in stocks of different kinds. Included in these was a considerable amount of stock in a woolen manufacturing establishment, situated in Melville, some twelve miles distant. Dividends upon these were paid semi-annually, on the first of April and October. It was the custom of Colonel Preston at these dates to drive over to Melville, receive his dividends, and then drive back again.

Now, unfortunately for the welfare of the community, there are some persons who, unwilling to make a living by honest industry, prefer to possess themselves unlawfully of means to maintain their unprofitable lives. Among them was a certain black-whiskered individual, who, finding himself too well known in New York, had sought the country, ready for any stroke of business which might offer in his particular line. Chance led his steps to Melville, where he put up at the village inn. He began at once to institute inquiries, the answers to which might serve his purpose, and to avert suspicion, casually mentioned that he was a capitalist, and thought of settling down in the town. As he was well dressed, and had a plausible manner, this statement was not doubted.

Among other things, he made inquiries in regard to the manufactory, what dividends it paid, and when. Expressing himself desirous of purchasing some stock, he inquired the names of the principal owners of the stock. First among them was mentioned Colonel Preston.

"Perhaps he might sell some stocks," suggested the landlord.

"Where can I see him?" asked James Fairfax, for this was the name assumed by the adventurer.

"You can see him here," answered the landlord, "in a day or two. He will be here the first of the month to receive his dividends."

"Will he stop with you?"

"Probably. He generally dines with me when he comes over."

"Will you introduce me?"

"With pleasure."

Mr. Fairfax appeared to hear this with satisfaction, and said that he would make Colonel Preston an offer for a part of his stock.

"Most of my property is invested in real estate in New York," he said; "but I should like to have some manufacturing stock; and, from what you tell me, I think favorably of the Melville Mills."

"We should be glad to have you settle down among us," said the landlord.

"I shall probably do so," said Fairfax. "I am very much pleased with your town and people."

In due time Colonel Preston drove over. As usual, he put up at the hotel.

"Colonel," said the landlord, "there's a gentleman stopping with me who desires an introduction to you."

"Indeed! What is his name?"

"James Fairfax."

"Is he from this neighborhood?"

"No; from the city of New York."

"I shall be happy to make his acquaintance," said the colonel, courteously; "but it must be after I return from the mills. I shall be there a couple of hours, probably. We are to have a directorial meeting."

"I will tell him."

Colonel Preston attended the directors' meeting, and also collected his dividend, amounting to eight hundred dollars. These, in eight one-hundred-dollar bills, he put in his pocketbook, and returned to the hotel for dinner.

"Dinner is not quite ready, colonel," said the landlord. "It will be ready in fifteen minutes."

"Where is the gentleman who wished to be introduced to me?" asked Colonel Preston, who thought it would save time to be introduced now.

"I will speak to him."

He went directly to a dark-complexioned man with black whiskers, and eyes that were rather sinister in appearance. The eyes oftenest betray the real character of a man, where all other signs fail. But Colonel Preston was not a keen observer, nor was he skilled in physiognomy, and, judging of Mr. Fairfax by his manner merely, was rather pleased with him.

"You will pardon my obtruding myself upon you, Colonel Preston," said the stranger, with great ease of manner.

"I am happy to make your acquaintance, sir."

"I am a stranger in this neighborhood. The city of New York is my home. I have been led here by the recommendations of friends who knew that I desired to locate myself in the country."

"How do you like Melville?"

"Very much—so much, that I may settle down here. But, Colonel Preston, I am a man of business, and if I am to be here, I want some local interest—some stake in the town itself."

"Quite natural, sir."

"You are a business man yourself, and will understand me. Now, to come to the point, I find you have a manufactory here—a woolen manufactory, which I am given to understand is prosperous and profitable."

"You are correctly informed, Mr. Fairfax. It is paying twelve per cent.