Making His Mark. Alger Horatio Jr.

I'm glad on't. Melindy's first husband was a no-account sort of a man, and it's my belief he didn't leave her a hundred dollars. He was shif'less; and, besides, he drank."

      So that was the man upon whom Abel must look as a father. Gerald felt glad to think that his father was a man of whom he had no reason to be ashamed.

      "Have you seen your sister since—since her last marriage?" he asked, with some curiosity.

      "No; I've never had an invitation to call upon her. I guess she was too much set up by her marriage to a rich man to notice a workin'-man. You see, I ain't one of your 'ristocrats—I'm only a blacksmith, and have to work hard for a living."

      "You are none the worse for that, Mr.–" here Gerald hesitated, for he had not yet learned the name of his new acquaintance.

      "Crane—Alonzo Crane—that's my name, young man. I'm glad you don't put on no airs, even if your father was a rich man. Do you know anything of my sister's son, Abel?"

      "Yes, sir; he is in Portville, living with his mother."

      "How do you like him?" Then, seeing that Gerald hesitated, he added: "You needn't mind telling me, for I ain't much stuck on the boy myself, even if he is my nephew."

      "I don't like him much, Mr. Crane."

      "I don't know anybody that does, except his mother. He and Melindy—that's his mother—have seen some pretty hard times. More'n once his mother has sent him to me for a little help when they hadn't a penny in the house."

      This was news to Gerald, of course, but did not necessarily prejudice him against his stepmother and her son, but it made their present pretensions and airs rather ridiculous.

      "Why haven't you been to call on your sister before?" he asked.

      "Because she never invited me and I thought she wouldn't like to have her new husband see me."

      "My father would have received you kindly, Mr. Crane."

      "I am sure he would if you are like him. You ain't no kin to me, but I like you better already than Abel."

      "Thank you, Mr. Crane."

      "You needn't do that. It ain't sayin' much, for Abel, to my mind, is a disagreeable cub."

      Gerald began to think that Mr. Crane, despite his relationship to Mrs. Lane and Abel, was a man of excellent sense.

      "I wonder what sort of a welcome he will get," he thought.

      He had considerable doubt whether it would be very cordial.

      By this time they had reached a point in the road from which the Lane mansion was visible.

      "That is where your sister lives," he said, pointing to it.

      "You don't say! Well, it is a nice place. Melindy has feathered her nest pretty well."

      "That is true enough," said Gerald to himself.

      "It's lucky I fell in with you, young man. You didn't tell me your name."

      "Gerald—I am Gerald Lane."

      "I wish you was my nephew instead of Abel. How long has Abel been here?"

      "Only since my father died."

      "Melindy was sly. Like as not she never told your father she had a son."

      "She said he knew it; but I never heard of Abel till a few days ago."

      "It's likely she didn't tell him. Of course she wouldn't own it up to you."

      "Do you live far away, Mr. Crane?"

      "I live in the town of Gladwin, most sixty miles from here. I'm fifty years old, but I was never so far away from home before. I shouldn't have come now, only I've been unlucky. My shop burned down last week, and there warn't no insurance on it. Thinks I, Melindy is rich, and now is just the time when I need help. Don't you think she ought to help me?"

      "Yes."

      "I'm her only brother, and there's only two of us anyway. I've got a wife and two children at home, and they'll be pinched if I don't get help somewhere. Many's the time I've helped Melindy and Abel."

      "Then you certainly have a claim upon Mrs. Lane."

      They turned into the yard, and Gerald was about ushering his new acquaintance into the house, when Abel appeared at the door.

      "Who are you bringing into the house, Gerald?" demanded Abel, sharply.

      "Don't you know me, Abe?" asked Alonzo Crane, with an ingratiating smile.

      "How should I?" asked Abel; but his face changed, for he did recognize his plebeian relative.

      "This is your uncle," said Gerald, gravely. "Is your mother at home?"

      CHAPTER VIII

      A COLD RECEPTION

      "I don't think she is," said Abel, reddening with mortification.

      Just then Mrs. Lane's voice was heard from the head of the stairs.

      "Who are you talking with, Abel?"

      "It's me, Melindy—your brother Alonzo," said Mr. Crane.

      Mrs. Lane descended the stairs slowly, looking very much annoyed. She was ashamed of her plebeian brother, and very much disturbed that Gerald should have seen him. It occurred to her to deny the relationship, but this seemed impracticable. So she said with an ill grace, not even offering her hand:

      "What brought you here, Alonzo?"

      "I reckon the cars brought me here, Melindy. It does me good to see you well fixed. You have feathered your nest well, I must say."

      Mrs. Lane bit her lips.

      "You can come in and sit down," she said. "I shall be glad if you will talk more like a gentleman."

      "But I'm not a gentleman, Melindy. I am an honest, hard-working blacksmith. Carrie and the children send their love."

      "I am obliged to them," said Mrs. Lane, stiffly. "I wonder you could get away from your work for a visit."

      "Well, the truth is, Melindy, I'm in hard luck. My shop burned down day before yesterday, and I need money to build it up again."

      "Wasn't it insured?" asked his sister, coldly.

      "The insurance ran out a month ago. So I naturally thought of my only sister who is a rich woman, and I've come to ask a loan of two hundred dollars. That, I calculate, will set me on my feet again."

      "The estate is not yet settled, and even if it were I should not feel at liberty to take Mr. Lane's money for such a purpose."

      "I reckon you'll spend it on yourself and Abel, Melindy."

      "My husband left a son."

      "I know that, and he's a gentleman, too," said Mr. Crane, with a kindly glance at Gerald. "If he had money I am sure he would help me."

      "Yes, Mr. Crane; I would," said Gerald.

      "We won't discuss that matter now, Alonzo. As you are here, you can stay for the balance of the day."

      "I shall have to stay till to-morrow, as there is no train from Portville till then. I hope you won't forget the help I gave you and Abel when you were first left a widder."

      "It isn't very becoming to twit me with any little favors I may have accepted from you in the past," said Mrs. Lane. "If you want me to receive you in a friendly way, you must behave and talk differently."

      As Mr. Crane went into the house, following his not over-cordial relative, Gerald walked away. He felt that he had no place in the family conclave, and was only sorry that it was not likely to prove very satisfactory to his new acquaintance.

      He walked away, and, having nothing else to occupy his time, went to the lake and got into his rowboat. He rowed about lazily for half an hour when he heard a voice from the bank.

      Looking up, he saw Alonzo Crane standing on the blink of the pond.

      "Hello, Gerald!" he called out, "won't you give me a ride in your boat?"

      "Certainly, Mr. Crane,"