"But I have," said Mr. Manning.
"Very well, sir."
"I demand that you treat my son Mark with suitable respect, and forbearto infringe upon his rights."
Frank looked up, and answered, with spirit: "I shall treat Mark as wellas he treats me, sir. Is that satisfactory?"
"I apprehend," said Mr. Manning, "that you may make some mistakes uponthat point."
"I will try not to do so, sir."
Frank left the room, and this time was not called back.
His stepfather looked after him, but his face expressed neitherfriendliness nor satisfaction.
"That boy requires taming," he said to himself. "He is going to maketrouble. I must consider what I will do with him."
As Mr. Manning reviewed Frank's words, there was one thing whichespecially disturbed him--the doubt expressed by his stepson as to hismother's having actually made the will.
He saw that it would not do for him to go too far in his persecution ofFrank as it might drive the latter to consult a lawyer in regard to thevalidity of the will by which he had been disinherited.
Frank rather gloomily made his way to the stable. As he reached it,Richard Green came out.
"I'm sorry for you, Mr. Frank. But your mother was a saint. She was toogood to suspect the badness of others, Mr. Frank. She thought oldManning was really all that he pretended to be, and that he would be askind to you as she was herself. When she was alive, he was always assoft as--as silk."
"His manner has changed now," said Frank, gravely. "Excuse me, Richard,for finding fault with you, but don't call him old Manning."
"Why not, Mr. Frank?"
"I have no liking for Mr. Manning--in fact, I dislike him--but he wasthe husband of my mother, and I prefer to speak of him respectfully."
"I dare say you are right, Mr. Frank, but, all the same, he don'tdeserve it. Is Mr. Mark to ride Ajax then?"
"If he asks for it, you are to saddle Ajax for him. I don't want you toget into any trouble with Mr. Manning on my account."
"I don't care for that, Mr. Frank. I can get another place, and I don'tmuch care to serve Mr. Manning."
"I would rather you would stay, if you can, Richard. I don't want to seea new face in the stable."
"I don't think he means to keep me long, Mr. Frank. Deborah and I willhave to go, I expect, and he'll get some servants of his own here."
"Has he hinted anything of this, Richard?" asked Frank, quickly.
"No; but he will soon, you may depend on it. I won't lose sight of you,though. I've known you since you were four years old, and I won't desertyou, if I can do any good--nor Deborah, either."
"I have two friends, then, at any rate," said Frank to himself. "That issomething."
CHAPTER VII
A SCHOOL FRIEND
Early Monday morning it had been the custom for Frank and Mark to takethe train for Bridgeville, to enter upon a new week at the academy.
Frank felt that it would be better for him to go back without anyfurther vacation, as occupation would serve to keep him from broodingover his loss.
"Are you ready, Mark?" he asked, as he rose from the breakfast table.
"Ready for what?"
"To go back to school, of course."
"I am not going back this morning," answered Mark.
"Why not?" asked Frank, in some surprise.
"I am going to stay at home to help father," said Mark, with a glance atMr. Manning.
"If I can be of any service to you, sir, I will stay, too," said Frank,politely.
"Thank you, but Mark will do all I require," replied his stepfather.
"Very well, sir."
Frank appeared at the academy with a grave face and subdued manner,suggestive of the great loss he had sustained. From his schoolfellows,with whom he was a favorite, he received many words of sympathy--fromnone more earnest or sincere than from Herbert Grant.
"I know how you feel, Frank," he said, pressing the hand of his friend."If I could comfort you I would, but I don't know how to do it."
"I find comfort in your sympathy," said Frank. "I look upon you as mywarmest friend here."
"I am glad of that, Frank."
To Herbert alone Frank spoke of his mother and her devoted affection;but even to him he did not like to mention the will and hisdisinheritance. He did not so much lament the loss of the property asthat he had lost it by the direction of his mother, or, rather, becauseit would generally be supposed so.
For himself, he doubted the genuineness of the will, but he felt that itwas useless to speak of it, as he was unprepared with any proofs.
So it happened that when, on Wednesday afternoon Mark Manning made hisappearance, Frank's change of position, as respected the property, wasneither known nor suspected by his schoolfellows. It was soon known,however, and of course, through Mark.
The boys immediately noticed a change in Mark. He assumed an air ofconsequence, and actually strutted across the campus. Instead of beingpolite and attentive to Frank, he passed him with a careless nod, suchas a superior might bestow on an inferior.
"What has come over Mark?" asked Herbert of Frank, as the two werewalking together from recitation.
"How do you mean?"
"He holds his head higher than he used to do. He looks as if he had beenelected to some important office."
"You will soon learn, Herbert," said Frank. "Make a pretext to join him,and let the news come from him."
Herbert looked puzzled.
"Do you wish me to do this?" he asked.
"Yes, I have a reason for it."
"Very well. I am always ready to oblige you, Frank, but I hope Markwon't think I have suddenly formed a liking for his society."
"If he does, you can soon undeceive him."
"That is true."
Herbert left the side of his friend, and sauntered toward Mark.
As Herbert was known as Frank's especial friend, Mark was at firstsurprised, but quickly decided that his improved position had beencommunicated by Frank, and that Herbert was influenced by it. That is tosay, he judged Herbert to be as mean and mercenary as himself.
Herbert's position was too humble to entitle him to much notice fromMark, but the latter was pleased with the prospect of detaching fromFrank his favorite friend.
"You came back rather late, Mark," said Herbert.
"Yes," answered Mark, with an air of importance. "I remained at home ashort time, to help my father in his accounts. You know the property islarge, and there is a good deal to do."
"I should think that was Frank's place, to help about the accounts."
"Why?"
"The property is his, of course!"
"Did he tell you that?" asked Mark, sharply.
"He has not said a word about the property."
"No, I suppose not," said Mark, with a sneering laugh.
"Has anything happened? Didn't his mother leave as much as wasexpected?" went on Herbert, quite in the dark.
"Yes, she left a large estate, but she didn't leave it to him."
"To whom, then?"
"To my father!" replied Mark, with conscious pride. "Frank has nothing.He is entirely dependent upon father."
"Did his mother leave him nothing, then?" asked Herbert, in painedsurprise.
"Nothing at all," assured Mark, complacently.
"That is very strange and unjust."
"I don't look upon it in that light," said Mark, nettled. "My fatherknows what is best for him. He will provide for him just as his motherdid before."
"But when Frank is of age, doesn't he come into possession of the estatethen?"
"No, of course not. Didn't I tell you it belongs to father? Frank is apoor boy--as poor as you," said Mark, in a tone of evident satisfaction.
"Or you," added Herbert, pointedly.
"You are mistaken," said Mark, quickly. "I am father's heir."
"Suppose your father dies--how will the property go?"
"I suppose something will be left to Frank, unless my
father leaves methe property, with directions to provide for him."
"Would you think that right and just?" demanded Herbert, indignantly.
"Of course I would. My stepmother knew what she was about when she madeher will. I see you are surprised. You won't be quite to thick withFrank, now, I expect."
"Why shouldn't I be?"
"Because he is just as poor as you are. He never can help you."
"Mark Manning, I believe you are about the meanest boy I everencountered, and you judge me by yourself!"
"Do you mean to insult me? Mind what you say!" blustered Mark,unpleasantly surprised at this outburst from a boy whom he expectedwould now transfer his allegiance from Frank to himself.
"I mean that you and your father have robbed Frank of his inheritance,and glory in it, and you think that I am mean enough to desert himbecause he is no longer rich. It makes no difference to me whether he isrich or poor. I think I like him all the better because he has been sobadly treated. As for you, I despise you, and shall continue to, even ifyou get the whole of Frank's money."
"You forget that you are talking to a gentleman, you low-born mechanic!"said Mark, angrily.
"You a gentleman!" replied Herbert, contemptuously. "Then I never wantto be one!"
He walked away, leaving Mark very much incensed.
"He is a fool!" muttered Mark. "When I am a rich man, he may repenthaving insulted me."
Herbert went back to Frank.
"Did he tell you?" asked Frank, quietly.
"Yes; and he actually appeared to think I would be ready to desert youbecause you were poor, and follow him about."
"I am not afraid of that, Herbert."
"I don't think Mark will have that idea any more. I gave him a piece ofmy mind, and left him very angry. But what does it all mean, Frank?"
"I know no more than you do, Herbert. I cannot understand it."
"What could have induced your mother to make such a will?"
"I cannot believe my poor mother ever made such a will; but, if shedid, I am very sure that she was over-persuaded by my stepfather, who isone of the most plausible of men."
"What shall you do about it?"
"What can I do? I am only a boy. I have no proof, you know."
"How are you likely to be treated?"
"I have had a little foretaste of that."
"It looks very bad for you, Frank," admitted Herbert, in a tone ofsympathy.
"I don't so much care for the loss of the property, Herbert," saidFrank, "but I am afraid I shall have sorts of annoyances to endure fromMark and his father. But I won't anticipate trouble. I will do my duty,and trust that things will turn out better than I fear."
The next afternoon a letter was placed in Frank's hands. It was in abrown envelope, and directed in a cramped and evidently unpracticedhand, with which Frank was not familiar.
On opening it, a glance at the signature showed that it was from RichardGreen, the coachman. It commenced:
"Dear Mr. Frank: This comes hoping you are well. I have no good news totell. Mr. Manning has sold your horse, Ajax, and he is to be taken awayto-night. I thought you ought to know it, and that is why I take my penin hand to write."
There was more, but this is all that was important.
Frank's face flushed with anger. He immediately went in search of Mark,who, he felt assured, knew of the sale.
It may be said here that Ajax was one of Frank's dearest trophies, agift from his mother.
CHAPTER VIII
A NEW PLAN
Mark was in his room, where Frank found him trying on a new necktie.Though decidedly plain, Mark fancied himself very good-looking, andspent no little time on personal adornment. In particular, he had aweakness for new neckties, in which he indulged himself freely.
When the boys came to the academy, the principal proposed that theyshould room together; but both objected, and Mark had a room tohimself--no one caring to room with him.
"Take a seat, Frank," said Mark, condescendingly. "Is there anything Ican do for you?"
"Yes," answered Frank. "I hear your father has sold Ajax, or isintending to do so. Will you tell me if it is true?"
"I believe it is," answered Mark, indifferently.
"And what right has he to sell my horse?" demanded Frank, indignantly.
"You'd better ask him," said Mark, with provoking coolness.
"It is an outrage," said Frank, indignantly.
"As to that," said his stepbrother, "you can't expect father to be atthe expense of feeding your horse."
"With my money?"
"The money is legally his," replied Mark.
"Do you know to whom your father has sold Ajax?"
"To Col. Vincent, I believe."
"I am glad, at any rate, that he will have a good master."
Frank felt that there would be no advantage in prolonging the interview,or carrying on further a war of words.
He sought out his friend Herbert, and communicated to him this lastinfraction of his rights.
"It is too bad, Frank!" said his sympathizing friend.
"Yes, it is," said Frank, gravely; "but I fear it is only the beginningof annoyances. I don't believe I can ever live in any place with Mr.Manning or Mark."
"Will it be necessary?"
"I suppose so. I have no money, as you know. All has gone to him.Herbert, I tell you frankly, I envy you and your position."
"Though my father is a poor man?"
"Yes; for, at any rate, you have a peaceful home, and a father andmother who love you. I have a stepfather, who will do all he can to makeme miserable."
"Would you be willing to work for your own support, Frank?"
"Yes; far rather than remain a dependent on Mr. Manning."
"Suppose you should run away," suggested Herbert.
Frank shook his head.
"I wouldn't do that except in case of extreme necessity. I know that ifmy mother knows what goes on here, it would grieve her for me to takesuch a step."
"Suppose your stepfather should consent to your leaving home?"
"Then I would do so gladly. I am willing to work and I think I couldmake a living in some way."
"Why not ask him?"
Frank's face brightened.
"Thank you for the hint, Herbert," he said. "I will think of it, and Imay act upon it."
Frank was naturally self-reliant and energetic. He was not disposed toshrink from the duties of life, but was ready to go forth to meet them.The idea which Herbert had suggested commended itself to him the more hethought of it.
In spite, therefore, of the news which he had received about Ajax, heresumed his cheerfulness, considerably to the surprise of Mark, whosenatural suspicion led him to conjecture that Frank had some plan in viewto circumvent his father.
"If he has, he'd better give it up," reflected Mark. "The old man's assly as a fox. A raw boy like Frank can't get the better of him."
At the close of the week, both the boys went home. They were on boardthe same train and the same car, but did not sit together. When theyreached the house, Mr. Manning was not at home.
Frank went out to the stable at once to see Richard Green, the coachman.
He found him, indeed, but he also found another man, a stranger, whoappeared to be employed in the stable.
"Who is this, Richard?" asked Frank.
"My successor," answered the coachman.
"Are you going to leave?" asked Frank, hastily.
"Come out with me, Mr. Frank, and I will tell you," said Richard. "I'vehad notice to leave," he said, "and so has Deborah. It came lastevening. Mr. Manning got a letter from Bridgeville--I know that, becauseI brought it home from the post office--which appeared to make himangry. He called Deborah and me and told us that he should not need ourservices any longer."
"Did he give you any reason?"
"Yes; he said that he could have our places filled for a good deal lessmoney, and he had no doubt we could do as well elsewhere."
"He has filled your
place pretty soon."
"Yes. This man came this morning. I think Mr. Manning had sent for himalready. I told you the other day we should soon be discharged."
"I know it; but I can tell you what has hastened it."
"What, then?"
"Mark wrote his father that I had learned about the sale of Ajax, andthat the information came from you or Deborah."
"I think it likely, Mr. Frank, for the old gentleman seemed mighty cool.I hope you won't take it too much to heart that Ajax is sold."
"I am not sure but I am glad of it," said Frank.
The coachman looked at him in surprise.
"I thought you would be very angry," he said.
"So I was at first, but he has been sold to a man who will treat himwell, and I shall be glad to think of that when I'm away from home."
"You don't mean to run away, Mr. Frank?"
"No; but I mean to get my stepfather's permission to go, if I can."
"Where do you mean to go, Mr. Frank?"
"Somewhere where I can earn my living, without depending upon anybody.You know very well, Richard, how miserable I should be to stay here independence upon Mr. Manning."
"But to think that you, to whom the property rightfully belongs, shouldgo away and work for a living, while that man and his boy occupy yourplace. I can't bear to think of it."
"I have done a good deal of thinking within a few days, and I don'tshrink from the prospect. I think I should rather enjoy being activelyemployed."
Making His Way; Or, Frank Courtney's Struggle Upward Page 3