Chapter IX Something About Miniatures - Dave Porter and his Double by Edward Stratemeyer
“Miniatures?” came from all of Ben Basswood’s listeners in a chorus.
“Do you mean those little paintings that are sometimes so valuable?” continued Laura.
“That’s it,” answered Ben. “I don’t know much about miniatures myself, but as soon as mother and I heard about this queer fortune of ours she asked the minister. You know he is quite interested in art, and he told her that most of these little miniatures, which are about the size of a silver dollar or a small saucer, are usually painted on ivory. Of course, some of them are not so valuable, but others, especially those painted by celebrated artists, are worth thousands of dollars.”
“And how many of these miniatures are there, Ben?” asked Roger, with increased curiosity.
“Father didn’t know exactly, but said they would number at least fifty, and maybe seventy-five.”
“I suppose they are paintings of celebrated individuals–kings, queens, and like that?” was Dave’s comment.
“No, these miniatures, so father stated, are made up almost entirely of the great fighters of the world–army and navy men, lieutenant-generals, admirals, and officers like that.”
“Well, where in the world did this Mr. Enos get money enough to buy such things?” asked Jessie, who had followed Laura into the room.
“That’s the queer part of it,” answered the real-estate dealer’s son. “It seems, after Mr. Enos and my father gave up business and separated, Enos went South–first to Texas and then into Mexico. There he joined some men who were opening up a gold mine. These men struck it rich, and almost before he knew it Mr. Enos was worth quite a lot of money. He had never been very much of a business man–being wrapped up almost entirely in art–and so he did not know how to handle his money. He had always had a liking for miniatures, so my father stated, and he went in to gather this collection. He didn’t want any kings or queens or noted society women, or anything like that, but he did want every miniature ever painted of an army or a navy fighter. Of course, my father doesn’t know all the particulars yet, but he has learned that Mr. Enos put himself out a great deal to get hold of certain miniatures, hunting for them all over Europe and also in this country. He even went down to South America to get miniatures of some of their heroes, and also picked up several in Mexico, and one or two in Texas.”
“His hobby must certainly have had a strong hold on him,” was Dave’s comment. “But still, that sort of thing isn’t unusual. I heard once of a postage-stamp collector who went all over the world collecting stamps, and finally gave up his last dollar for a rare stamp when he actually hadn’t enough to eat. Of course, he was a monomaniac on the subject of stamp collecting.”
“Well, my father has an idea that Mr. Enos must have been a little queer over his miniature collecting,” returned Ben. “But even so, the fact remains that he left his collection of miniatures behind him, and that they are now the property of my father.”
“And what is your father going to do with them?” questioned Roger.
“He doesn’t know yet. You see, the settling of the estate is in a very mixed-up condition. He is going to stay in Chicago for a week or so, and then he’ll probably bring the miniatures East with him and have some art expert place a valuation on them. After that I suppose he’ll offer the miniatures for sale to art galleries and rich collectors.”
This was about all Ben could tell concerning the fortune left to his parent. The young folks talked the matter over for quite a while, and were presently joined by the older people, including Caspar Potts.
“Miniatures, eh?” said the genial old professor, beaming mildly on Ben. “Very curious! Very curious indeed! But some of them are wonderful works of art, and bring very good prices. I remember, when a young man, attending a sale of art works, and a miniature of one of the English nobility was knocked down for a very large sum, several thousand dollars if I remember rightly.”
“Well, it’s very fine to get hold of a fortune, no matter in what shape it is,” observed Mr. Wadsworth. “Just the same, Ben, I think your father would prefer to have it in good stocks and bonds,” and he smiled faintly.
“No doubt of that, sir,” was the prompt answer. “But, as you say, miniatures are much better than nothing. In fact, I’d rather take a fortune in soft soap than not get it at all,” and at this remark there was a general laugh.
“Oh, my gracious, Ben! what would you do with a hundred thousand dollars’ worth of soft soap?” queried Laura, slyly.
“Oh, I’d go around and smooth down all my friends and enemies with it,” the boy returned, and this caused another laugh.
Several more days passed, and during that time Dave and Roger continued to devote themselves to their studies. Mr. Ramsdell, the old civil engineer, was on hand to tutor the two youths, and he declared that they were making satisfactory progress, and that he thought they would pass the coming examinations without much trouble.
“I wish I felt as confident about it as Mr. Ramsdell does,” observed our hero to his chum one day.
“The same here, Dave,” returned Roger. “Every time I think of that examination I fairly shake in my shoes. Passing at Oak Hall wasn’t a patch to passing as a civil engineer.”
There had been another fall of snow, and now sleighing was even better than before. Jessie and Laura went out in company with their uncle, and on their return both showed some excitement.
“Oh, Dave–Roger–what do you think!” cried Laura. “I’ve got a letter from Belle Endicott, and she is coming on from Star Ranch to spend several weeks with me, and she is going to bring along one of her old school chums, Cora Dartmore. What do you think of that? Won’t it be fine?”
“It certainly will be, Laura,” answered her brother. “When do you expect them to arrive?”
“They are coming on immediately; so I suppose they’ll be here in a day or two if they are following this letter.” Laura looked inquiringly at Dave. “What a pity Phil Lawrence isn’t here,” she half whispered.
Both of them knew that during the visit of the young folks to the Endicott ranch the shipowner’s son and Belle Endicott had become exceedingly friendly.
“Well, I’ve invited Phil to come here,” answered Dave. “I guess all I’ve got to do is to mention Belle to him and he’ll be on the way without delay.”
“Then, by all means, send him word,” returned the sister. “Then we can make up a fine little party, for we can pair Cora Dartmore off with Ben.”
A letter from Dave to Phil Lawrence was dispatched that evening, and the next day came a telegram from the shipowner’s son stating that he would come on that night.
“I knew the mention of Belle would fetch Phil,” remarked Dave to Roger, when they were alone. “Phil certainly has got an eye on that girl.”
“Well, you can’t blame him, Dave. Belle Endicott is a splendid girl and comes from a splendid family. I’ll never forget how royally they treated us when we were at Star Ranch.”
“Yes, we certainly did have one grand time, in spite of what Link Merwell did to annoy us.”
“Oh, drop Link Merwell!” Roger paused for a moment and then went on: “Isn’t it queer, Dave, how just as soon as you get rid of one bad egg like Merwell another bobs up like this Ward Porton?”
“It is queer, Roger.” Dave heaved a deep sigh. “I wish I could get on the track of that rascal.”
“Haven’t heard a thing, have you?”
“No.”
“Well, you can be thankful that he hasn’t been around buying more goods in your name.”
“Oh, I think I scared him pretty well when I met him in the woods. He’ll probably lay low for a while–at least until he thinks the field is clear again. But I’d give a good deal if I never saw or heard of him again,” and Dave heaved another sigh.
The next day the local paper came out with a big article on the front page speaking about the Basswood fortune. Mr. Basswood had returned to town, and had been interviewed by a reporter, and the sheet gave many of the particulars regarding the wonderful miniatures left by Mr. Enos. According to the paper they numbered sixty-eight all told, and were worth from a hundred dollars to five thousand dollars apiece. It was said that they had been placed in a safe deposit vault, being packed in several plush-lined cases.
The paper went on to state that Mr. Basswood thought something of bringing them to Crumville, where they might be judged by a committee of experts in order to ascertain their real value. The real-estate dealer was spoken of as a man well-known in the community, and the article concluded by stating that all the good people of Crumville and vicinity would undoubtedly congratulate him on his good fortune.
“They certainly piled it on a little thick,” was Dave’s comment, after he and Roger had read the article. “Just the same, I agree with the paper–the Basswoods richly deserve the fortune that has come to them.” Dave had not forgotten those days, now long gone by, when he had been a boy just out of the poorhouse living with Caspar Potts, and how Ben Basswood had been his one young friend during those trying times.
As luck would have it, all the young visitors bound for the Wadsworth mansion reached Crumville on the same train. Of course, the others went down to the depot to meet them, and there was a grand jollification lasting several minutes.
“My, Belle, how you have grown!” declared Laura, after the numerous kisses and handshakes had come to an end. “Isn’t she growing tall, Dave?”
“She certainly is,” returned the brother. And what they said was true–Belle Endicott was now tall and willowy, and exceedingly pretty to look at,–so much so in fact, that Phil Lawrence could hardly take his eyes from her.
“It was mighty good of your folks to invite me down,” said the shipowner’s son, when the whole crowd was making its way over to where the Wadsworth automobile and sleigh were standing. “I appreciate it, I assure you.”
“Oh, my! you don’t suppose we could leave you out, Phil, with Belle here,” returned Dave, as he gave his chum a nudge in the ribs.
“Good for you, Dave!” Phil blushed a little, and then winked one eye. “How are matters going between you and Jessie?”
“Very well.”
“Glad to hear it. And I suppose Roger has that same old eagle eye of his on your sister Laura?”
“Well, you don’t find him talking very much to anybody else when Laura is around,” was Dave’s dry comment.
“Oh, we had a perfectly splendid journey!” cried Belle Endicott. “And wasn’t it the strangest thing that we should run into Phil at the junction where we had to change cars to get here?”
“Must be some sort of mutual attraction,” cried Laura, mischievously. And then to hide any possible confusion she added quickly to Cora Dartmore: “I hope you enjoyed the trip also.”
“Yes, I had a splendid time,” answered the newcomer, a girl not quite so tall as Belle but almost equally good-looking. “You see, this is my first trip to the East. Oh, I know I am going to have a perfectly lovely time!” she added enthusiastically.
The young folks piled into the sleigh and automobile, and in a very short time arrived at the Wadsworth mansion. Here Mrs. Wadsworth was ready to receive the visitors, and her gracious manner made them feel at home immediately.
Phil, as was his custom, insisted on rooming with Roger and Dave, while Belle Endicott and her chum were made comfortable in a room next to those occupied by Jessie and Laura.
“I don’t know what I’m going to do with you boys,” said Mrs. Wadsworth, laughingly. “You always bunk in as thick as fleas.”
“We got used to that at Oak Hall,” returned Dave. “Besides that, the room is a large one with two single beds in it, and we can easily put in a cot;” and so it was settled.
“My, but I’m mighty glad to be with you two fellows again!” declared the shipowner’s son, when the youths were left to themselves. “It seems like a touch of old times.”
“So it does,” returned Roger, smiling broadly.
“From now on I suppose we won’t be able to get together as much as we used to,” said Dave; “so while we are together let us make the most of it.”
“So say we all of us!” cried Phil and Roger, gaily.