Edward Stratemeyer - First at the North Pole - or, Two Boys in the Arctic Circle

“Towards our place?”

“Yes, they took that road. The real estate man had a sleigh, and your uncle got in with him.”

“What did Mr. Hopton want?”

“I don’t know exactly. I heard some words about papers, and your uncle said he had them. Mr. Hopton said something about three hundred dollars in cash – but I don’t know what it was.”

Andy’s heart leaped into his throat. Was it possible that his uncle had found the timber claim papers, and was going to let Mr. A. Q. Hopton have them for three hundred dollars?

“He sha’n’t do it – I’ll stop him – I must stop him!” the boy told himself, and catching up his bundles he left the general store, and struck out for home as fast as his tired limbs would carry him.

Ever since his father had left him the papers Andy had thought they might be of considerable value, but now he was more convinced than ever of their importance.

“For all I know, that claim may be worth a fortune,” he reasoned. “Anyway, it’s worth something, or that man wouldn’t be so anxious to get the papers.”

The youth tried his best to increase his speed, but the snow was deep in spots, and his long journey to the Storburgh camp had tired him, so it took some time to get even within sight of the cabin that was his home. To the rear, under the shed, he saw a horse and cutter.

“He is there, that’s sure,” he told himself. “I wonder what they are doing?”

The path to the cabin wound in and out among some trees, so that those inside could not witness his approach unless they were on the watch. As the youth came closer a sudden thought struck him, and he darted behind some bushes, made a detour, and came up in the shed. Here there was a back door opening into a summer kitchen.

Placing his bundles on a shelf in the shed, Andy softly opened the door to the summer kitchen and entered the place. Here there was another door, opening into the general living room of the cabin. It was not well hung, and stood open several inches.

“Well, I know something about timber lands,” he heard his uncle saying. “If they are wuth anything, they are generally wuth considerable.”

“I am offering you more than this claim is worth,” was the reply from Mr. A. Q. Hopton. He was standing in front of the fire warming himself, while Josiah Graham was hunched up in his usual attitude in the easy chair. Both men were smoking cigars, the real estate man having stood treat.

“Wot makes you so anxious to git the papers?” went on Josiah Graham.

“My client simply wants to clear away this flaw, as I told you,” answered A. Q. Hopton, smoothly. “Of course he could go ahead and claim everything just as it is, and I don’t think you could do a thing, but he prefers to treat everybody right. Mr. Graham gave a hundred dollars for this claim, so when you get three hundred for it you are getting a big price.”

“Humph!” Josiah Graham fell back on his favorite exclamation. “If I – that is, if I let you have them papers, Andy may object.”

“How can he? You’re his guardian, aren’t you?”

“Sure I am, but – ”

“Then you have a right to do as you please. You don’t want me to buy the papers from him, do you?”

“No! no! You give the money to me!” cried Josiah Graham, in alarm. “He don’t know the vally of a dollar, an’ I do. If he had thet three hundred dollars he’d squander it in no time.”

“Very well, give me the papers and I’ll write you out a check.”

“Can’t you give me cash? It ain’t no easy matter fer me to git a check cashed up here.” Josiah Graham did not add that he was afraid the check might be worthless, although that was in his mind.

“I don’t carry three hundred dollars in my clothes. I can give you fifty in cash though,” went on the real estate agent, as he saw the old man’s face fall. “And if you wish, I’ll get one of the lumber bosses up here to vouch for the check.”

“Humph! I suppose thet will have to do then. But – er – one thing more, Mr. Hopton – ”

“What is that?”

Josiah Graham leaned forward anxiously.

“Don’t you let the boy know about this right away. You give me a chanct to tell him myself.”

“Just as you wish. You’re his guardian, and I’ll not interfere with you. Get the papers and I’ll give you the check and the cash right now.” And the real estate agent drew a pocketbook and a checkbook from his inside coat.

Andy had listened to the conversation with bated breath. So far as worldly experience went he was but a boy, yet he realized that, in some way, this Mr. A. Q. Hopton was trying to swindle him out of his inheritance, and that his Uncle Si was willing to aid the schemer just for the sake of getting possession of the three hundred dollars.

As his uncle arose to enter the room in which his nephew slept, the boy slipped into the cabin. Like a flash he darted to his bedroom, jumped inside, and shut and bolted the door after him.

“Hi there! What’s this?” cried the real estate dealer, in astonishment.

“It’s – it’s the boy, my nevvy!” gasped Josiah Graham. “He come in through the back door! He must have been a-listenin’ to our talk.”

“Is that so? That’s too bad.” The real estate agent was dazed by the sudden turn of affairs. “He had a gun with him.”

“Yes, he took it with him when he went for work.” Josiah Graham walked over to the door and tried it. “Andy, open that door.”

“I will not,” was the answer.

“Was you a-listenin’ to our talk?”

“I was.”

“Humph! Nice thing fer a boy to do!”

“I guess I had a right to listen,” was the cool answer. As he spoke, Andy was examining the box in which he had stored the papers. He found things much disarranged, showing that his uncle had gone through the contents during his absence. But the papers were there, and the sight of them caused him to breathe a sigh of relief.

“They sha’n’t have these papers, no matter what happens,” he said to himself, and stuffed the documents into an inside pocket.

“Open thet door!” commanded Josiah Graham, and his voice now sounded harsh and threatening.

“I guess you had better teach that boy manners,” was Mr. A. Q. Hopton’s comment.

“I’ll teach him sumthin’!” answered the old man. “Open thet door, I say, an’ come out here.”

“You want to get those papers,” said Andy. He was wondering what to do next.

“Well, ain’t I your guardeen, an’ ain’t I got a right to ’em?”

“The papers are mine, and I’m not going to give them up,” answered Andy, doggedly. “I don’t like that Mr. Hopton, and he’s not going to get the papers. I’m going to turn them over to a lawyer.”

At these words the real estate man was much disturbed.

“That boy is an imp,” he said, in a low voice. “I’d not let him talk to me that way if I were you.”

“I ain’t goin’ to,” answered Josiah Graham. “Andy, you open thet door, or I’ll bust it in!”

“Don’t you dare break down the door!” answered Andy, in increased alarm. “If you do – I’ll – I’ll – Well, remember, I’ve got my gun – and it’s loaded, too.”

“Don’t ye shoot! Don’t ye shoot!” yelled Uncle Si, in sudden terror, and he backed away several steps. “Don’t ye dare! Oh, was ever there sech a boy!”

“Do you think he’d dare to shoot?” asked the real estate dealer.

“I dunno. He’s got lots o’ spirit sometimes.”

“Maybe we had better try to reason with him.”

“All right.” Josiah Graham raised his voice. “Andy, this is all – er – foolishness. Come out o’ there.”