“If you are satisfied with me,” said Gerald modestly, “I am very glad.”
“It will not be long before I shall have occasion to send you again. Meanwhile I will add five dollars a week to your salary.”
It often happens that one piece of good luck follows another.
Two days after Gerald’s return he received a letter from John Carter, who, it will be remembered, was left to occupy, rent free, the cabin in Gulchville, which had been Gerald’s old home. On making an engagement with the St. Louis firm Gerald had sent his address to Carter, with the request that he would from time to time communicate with him, in case there should be any news which he ought to know.
This was the material portion of the letter:
“I would have written you before, but had nothing to interest you. I have made a good living, having employment most of the time in logging. I am able to live comfortably, and my son Oscar is as happy as the day is long. He is no longer weak and puny, as he was when we first came here, but is strong and healthy, with red cheeks.
“Your friend (?) Jake Amsden is drinking more than ever. It is a mystery where he gets his money from. At any rate he seems to have a fair supply. I am sure he does not earn it, for he does not work one day in the week on the average. He seems to be very much interested in this claim, and hinted more than once that he would like to buy it and pay a fair price. I asked him how he expected to pay for it. He answered with an air of mystery that he had a friend who would furnish the money. I am inclined to think this friend is Bradley Wentworth, for I hear at the post-office that Amsden gets letters from Seneca at intervals.
“This brings me to the important part of my letter. Gulchville is booming! A land company represented by two Chicago men are here, buying up land, with the intention of laying out a town and selling lots. They want this property. It so happens that your land will be in the center of the town, as laid out by them. They tried to open negotiations with me, but I told them I was not the owner. They are anxious to meet you and talk matters over. You may be surprised when I tell you that you can probably get five thousand dollars for the land you own. Of course the cabin don’t count. That I should like to buy from you and move to some land farther away.
“I advise you to come on at once, for the parties are in a hurry, and it is best to strike while the iron is hot. The time you will lose in your business won’t amount to anything in comparison with the sum you will obtain from the sale of the property.
“I enclose a letter just received for you, bearing the Seneca postmark. I presume you can guess who wrote it.