CHAPTER XXXIVTHE WILL AT LAST
The next three months passed very unsatisfactorily for Andy. In asmall country town like that in which he lived there was littleopportunity for a boy, however industrious, to earn money. The farmersgenerally had sons of their own, or were already provided withassistants, and there was no manufacturing establishment in thevillage to furnish employment to those who didn't like agriculture.Andy had some idea of learning the carpenter trade, there being acarpenter who was willing to take an apprentice, but, unfortunately,he was unwilling to pay any wages for the first year--only boardingthe apprentice--and our hero felt, for his mother's sake, that itwould not do to make such an engagement.
When the three months were over, the stock of money which Andy and hismother had saved up was almost gone. In fact, he had not enough leftto pay the next quarter's rent to Dr. Townley.
Things were in this unsatisfactory state, when something happened thathad a material effect upon Andy's fortunes, and, as my readers will beglad to know, for their improvement.
To explain what it was, I must go back to a period shortly beforeColonel's Preston's death. One day he met the doctor in the street,and stopped to speak to him.
"Dr. Townley," he said, "I have a favor to ask of you."
"I shall be very glad to serve you, Colonel Preston," said the doctor.
Thereupon Colonel Preston drew from his inside pocket a sealedenvelope of large size.
"I want you to take charge of this for me," he said.
"Certainly," said the doctor, in some surprise.
"Please read what I have written upon the envelope."
The doctor, his attention called to the envelope, read, inscribed inlarge, distinct characters:
"Not to be opened till six months after my death."
"I see you want an explanation," said the colonel. "Here it is--thepaper contained in this envelope is an important one. I won't tell youwhat it is. When you come to open it, it will explain itself."
"But, colonel, you are likely to live as long as I. In that case, Ican't follow your directions."
"Of course, we can't tell the duration of our lives. Still, I thinkyou will outlive me. If not, I shall reclaim the paper. Meanwhile, Ishall be glad to have you take charge of it for me."
"Of course I will. It is a slight favor to ask."
"It may prove important. By the way, there is no need of tellinganyone, unless, perchance, your wife. I don't want to force you tokeep anything secret from her. Mrs. Townley, I know, may be dependedupon."
"I think she may. Well, Colonel Preston, set your mind at rest. I willtake care of the paper."
When Colonel Preston died, not long afterward, the doctor naturallythought of the paper, and, as no will was left, it occurred to himthat this might be a will; but, in that case, he couldn't understandwhy he should have been enjoined to keep it six months before openingit. On the whole, he concluded that it was not a will.
Seated at the supper table, about this time, Mrs. Townley said,suddenly:
"Henry, how long is it since Colonel Preston died?"
"Let me see," said the doctor, thoughtfully. "It is--yes, it is sixmonths to-morrow."
"Then it is time for you to open that envelope he gave into yourcharge."
"So it is. My dear, your feminine curiosity inspired that thought,"said the doctor, smiling.
"Perhaps you are right. I own I am a little inquisitive in thematter."
"I am glad you mentioned it. I have so much on my mind that I shouldhave let the day pass, and I should be sorry not to fulfill to theletter the promise I made to my friend."
"Have you any suspicion as to the nature of the document?"
"I thought it might be a will; but, if so, I can't understand why adelay of six months should have been interposed."
"Colonel Preston may have had his reasons. Possibly he did not fullytrust his wife's attention to his requests."
"It may be so. I am afraid his married life was not altogetherharmonious. Mrs. Preston always struck me as a very selfish woman."
"No doubt of that."
"She evidently regarded herself as superior to the rest of us."
"In that respect Godfrey is like her. He is a self-conceited,disagreeable young jackanapes. I wouldn't give much for his chances ofhonorable distinction in life. I'll tell you of a boy who will, in myopinion, beat him in the race of life."
"Who is that?"
"Andy Burke."
"Andy is a good boy, but I am afraid the family is doing poorly now."
"So I fear. The, fact is, there doesn't appear to be much opening fora lad like Andy in this village."
"I hear that Mr. Graves, the storekeeper, who is getting old, wants toget a boy, or young man, with a small capital to take an interest inhis business, and, eventually, succeed him."
"That would be a good chance for Andy, if he had the small capital;but he probably hasn't ten dollars in the world."
"That's a pity."
"If I were a capitalist, I wouldn't mind starting him myself; but asyou, my dear, are my most precious property, and are not readilyconvertible into cash, I don't quite see my way to do anything toassist him."
"I didn't think of you, Henry. Country doctors are not likely to getrich. But I thought Colonel Preston, who seemed to take an interest inthe boy, might do something for him."
"If he had lived, he might have done so--probably he would. But Mrs.Preston and Godfrey hate the Burkes like poison, for no good reasonthat I know of, and there is no chance of help from that quarter."
"I should think not."
The next day, Dr. Townley, immediately after breakfast, drew theenvelope already referred to from among his private papers, and,breaking the seal, opened it.
To his surprise and excitement, he discovered that the inclosure wasthe last will and testament of his deceased friend. Accompanying itwas the following note:
"MY DEAR FRIEND, DR. TOWNLEY: This is the duplicate of a will executed recently, and expresses my well-considered wishes as to the disposition of my property. The original will may have been found and executed before you open this envelope. In that case, of course, this will be of no value, and you can destroy it. But I am aware that valuable papers are liable to loss or injury, and, therefore, I deem it prudent to place this duplicate in your possession, that, if the other be lost, you may see it carried into execution. I have named you my executor, and am sure, out of regard to me, you will accept the trust, and fulfill it to the best of your ability. I have always felt the utmost confidence in your friendship, and this will account for my troubling you on the present occasion. "Your friend, "Anthony Preston."
From this letter Dr. Townley turned to the perusal of the will. Thecontents filled him with equal surprise and pleasure.
"Five thousand dollars to Andy Burke!" he repeated. "That is capital!It will start the boy in life, and with his good habits it will makehim sure of a competence by and by. With half of it he can buy aninterest in Graves' store, and the balance will, if well invested,give him a handsome addition to his income. Then there's the bequestfor the town library--a capital idea, that! It will do a great deal tomake the town attractive, and be a powerful agency for refining andeducating the people."
Just then Mrs. Townley, who knew what her husband was about, came intothe room.
"Well, Henry," she said, "is the paper important?"
"I should say it was. It is Colonel Preston's last will andtestatment."
"Is it possible? How does he leave his property?"
"He leaves five thousand dollars for a town library."
"Does he remember Andy Burke?"
"He leaves him five thousand dollars, and gives his mother the housethey used to live in."
"That's splendid! But what will Mrs. Preston say?"
"Well, that remains to be seen," said the doctor, laughing.