a caressing hand upon Will’s shoulder; “but it’s because she has lost her husband and friend, not because she has for a moment doubted his memory. Do you see those big buildings over there?” pointing to the distant steel works; “well, before they were built, another and more modest building stood in their place, where your father first discovered the secret process that has since made Chester Williams a rich and famous man. Did you know that? But John Carden made himself poor with his experiments, and Mr. Jordan loaned him money to carry on the tests until your father was deeply in his debt. There was but one way out, to go to England and interest the great steel manufacturers of that country in the new process, which John Carden knew to be very valuable. In order to save money, your father sailed in a second-class ship that foundered at sea and drowned him and all on board; and because he told only Mr. Jordan and myself of the object of his trip abroad, the story got around that he had run away, having failed in business, and thus cruelly deserted his family. Jordan is a reserved man, and never talks to anybody, but I’ve nailed the lie wherever I’ve heard it. Well, after your father’s death it was found that he had transferred his secret process to Mr. Jordan, in return for the money he owed him; and Jordan turned the secret over to Williams, who has established that great factory to produce the wonderful quality of steel your father invented. It is said that Mr. Jordan gets a royalty on all the steel the Williams mills turn out, and if that is so, and I have no reason to doubt it, he is a wealthy man by this time, and is profiting a hundred-fold for the money he loaned John Carden. So the debt is cleared, and your family owes no man a penny. As for Jordan, I don’t like the man, myself; he’s too silent and stealthy to suit me; but I must say he’s done the square thing by your mother in boarding with her right along, and so helping her to support her children.”
“It helps a lot,” said Will, thoughtfully.
“And now, my boy, you’ve got the whole story about your father, and got it square and fair. Every time you see the Williams mills you ought to be proud to remember that it was John Carden’s genius that made them possible, and that has enabled Chester D. Williams to amass a fortune. As for Mrs. Williams, who was once as poor as yourself, I believe, and is now a bit too proud of the money her husband has made, don’t you pay any attention to her. If she doesn’t want you to play with her children, don’t you mind, Will. Remember that the Cardens have lived in Bingham for three generations – long before the Williamses were ever heard of – and there isn’t a thing in their history they need be ashamed of. Poverty’s no crime, young man; and when you’re a little older poverty won’t bother you, for you’ll carve out a fine fortune for yourself, unless I’m very much mistaken.”
Will looked into the big, whiskered face with grateful eyes. Dr. Meigs had not only comforted him, but made him proud of his family and of himself.
“Thank you, Doctor,” he said. “I guess I’ll go, now.”
“Put out your tongue!” commanded the doctor.
Will obeyed, meekly.
“You’re right as a trivet. Run along, now, and weed that garden. And say – take half a peck of peas over to old Mrs. Johnson. I almost forgot about it. Here’s a quarter to pay for them. Tell her a friend sent them around. I believe it was old Nelson, but I can’t remember now.”
Then the doctor picked up the little case in which he carried medicines and strode away down the road, the end of his stout cane ringing on the hard earth at every step.
CHAPTER III
MR. JORDAN BECOMES MYSTERIOUS
Little Flo heard Will’s merry whistle as he drew near, and gave, a sigh of relief. It was dreary work weeding the radishes in the hot sun, without a soul to talk to. Egbert was fixing slender poles in the ground for the young beans to climb; but Egbert didn’t count much as a companion, because he could neither talk nor hear, although he was wonderfully quick to understand signs, or even a movement of the lips; so the child was glad her brother Will had returned.
He only paused to toss his basket into the open door of the barn, and then came straight to the radish bed.
“Working, sis?” he cried, cheerily.
“Mother said I must weed ’til noon,” she answered. “She’s baking, so she can’t help.”
“Well, how does it go?” he asked, kneeling down to assist in the labor.
“Oh, I don’t mind,” she said, in a voice that sounded less indifferent than the words. “Poor folks have to work, I s’pose; but Saturday ought to be a holiday – oughtn’t it, Will?”
“Sure enough. Where do you want to go?”
“Mabel Allen’s got a new set of dishes for her birthday, and she said if I’d come over we’d have tea. And Annabel Williams told me to stop in and see Gladys’s doll’s new clothes.”
Will’s face hardened, and his whistle died away. He plucked at the weeds savagely for a time, and then said:
“Look here, Flo; you run on and have tea with Mabel. I’ll ’tend to the weedin’. But I wouldn’t go to the big house, if I were you.”
“Why not?” asked Flo, in surprise.
Will thought a minute – just long enough to restrain the angry words that rose to his lips. Then he said:
“We’re poor, Flo, and the Williams family is rich, and they give themselves airs. I don’t know as I blame ’em any for that; but the Cardens are as good as the Williamses, even if we haven’t money, and I don’t like to have them patronize us, that’s all.”
The girl looked puzzled.
“Annabel’s always been nice to me, and I like her. I like Gladys, too. Why, Will, I thought all the Williams children were your friends!”
“So they are,” answered Will. “The children don’t put on airs, sis; it’s Mrs. Williams that don’t like them to play with poor kids, like us. So I wish you wouldn’t go there. When you see them in school, it’s all right to be friendly; but they never come over here, so don’t let’s go there.”
“All right, Will,” she answered, with a sigh for she longed to visit the beautiful grounds and rooms at the big house. “But, do you think you can spare me?”
“Easy,” said Will.
“But mother said – ”
“I’ll fix it with mother. You run along and have a good time.”
Will did a lot of work in the garden that day, and all the time he was thinking deeply of what he had heard from Doctor Meigs. It never occurred to him to doubt a word of the story of his father’s misfortunes and death.
At supper that night he cast many stealthy looks at Mr. Jordan, who sat wholly unconscious of the scrutiny and as silent as ever. Indeed, this peculiar gentleman was well worthy of examination, aside from the fact that he had been a friend to John Carden in the old days.
Mr. Jordan – his name was Ezra, but few were aware of that – was fully six feet in height, but wonderfully thin and gaunt of frame. His lean face was close-shaven, and his head was bald save for a fringe of locks above the ears. These were carefully brushed upward and plastered close to his shiny skull. But his eyebrows were thick and bushy, and sprinkled with gray, so that they gave him a rather fierce expression. Over his eyes he constantly wore big, gold-rimmed spectacles, which magnified the sight of those looking toward them; so that Mr. Jordan’s eyes became unnaturally large
