The Erie Train Boy

CHAPTER XXXVIII.

CONCLUSION

"You have sold the land?" repeated Mr. Ferguson in dismay.

"Yes, sir."

"Then permit me to say that you and your mother have acted like fools!" said Ferguson harshly. "In a matter like this you should have consulted ME. What do you or your mother know about business?"

"I think we did pretty well," said Fred placidly.

"What did you sell for?" asked Ferguson abruptly.

"Six thousand five hundred dollars!" answered the ex-train boy.

Robert Ferguson stared at Fred in amazement and incredulity.

"Don't play any of your practical jokes on me!" he said sternly.

"I don't intend to, sir. We gave Mr. Sloan a power of attorney, and he sold it for us."

"He

says

 he did!" sneered Ferguson. "You will never get the money."

"Excuse me, Mr. Ferguson. We have received the money already."

"When?" gasped the merchant.

"Two days ago."

The face of Robert Ferguson was a study. Disappointed cupidity succeeded his first incredulity. He began to consider that he must convince Fred that he had acted in good faith. With an effort he smoothed down his face and conjured up a smile.

"You quite take my breath away," he said. "I can hardly believe that the land which I thought worthless should have realized such a sum. Have any mines been discovered on them?"

"No, sir; but a village has sprung up in the immediate neighborhood."

"I am heartily glad of it. Tell your mother so. How could I have been so deceived? By the way, it will be best for you to put the money in the hands of some responsible person to take care of for you. As a near relative I shall be glad to invest the amount for you safely along with my own."

"Thank you, sir, but we have already invested it."

Mr. Ferguson frowned.

"I predict that you will lose half of it," he said.

"I don't think so. I had advice in the investment."

"Who advised you?"

"John Wainwright, the banker."

"Do you know him?"

"Yes; he is my employer."

"I believe I remember that Raymond told me so. Of course he is a good adviser. How much does he pay you?"

"Twenty-five dollars a week."

"Do you take me for a fool?" demanded Ferguson angrily.

"No, sir; and you have no right to take me for a liar," answered Fred, firmly.

"But such a salary for a boy of sixteen is ridiculous!"

"It does seem so; but Mr. Wainwright sent me to Canada to recover over ten thousand dollars' worth of stolen bonds, and I succeeded in bringing them back."

Slowly it dawned upon Mr. Ferguson that the youth before him was not only a favorite of fortune, out a remarkably smart boy. He was evidently on the rise. Would it not be politic to take notice of him?

"Fred," he said with sudden friendliness, "I am pleased to hear of your good fortune. You have done credit to the family. We ought to be more intimate. In proof of my desire for closer relations I shall send cards to you and your mother for my Daughter Luella's wedding. She is to be married next Thursday evening to an Italian count. Probably you have suitable attire, or, if not, you can easily obtain it. Give me your address."

"Thank you, sir. I am not sure whether my mother will attend, but I shall be happy to do so."

The door opened, and Raymond Ferguson entered.

"Good evening, Raymond," said Fred pleasantly.

"Good evening," answered Raymond, coldly.

"Your cousin Frederick has been very fortunate," said the elder F