Have you ever thought about what fiction is? Probably, such a question may seem surprising: and so everything is clear. Every person throughout his life has to repeatedly create the works he needs for specific purposes - statements, autobiographies, dictations - using not gypsum or clay, not musical notes, not paints, but just a word. At the same time, almost every person will be very surprised if he is told that he thereby created a work of fiction, which is very different from visual art, music and sculpture making. However, everyone understands that a student's essay or dictation is fundamentally different from novels, short stories, news that are created by professional writers. In the works of professionals there is the most important difference - excogitation. But, oddly enough, in a school literature course, you don’t realize the full power of fiction. So using our website in your free time discover fiction for yourself. Hector's Inheritance, Or, the Boys of Smith Institute by Jr. Horatio Alger (romance book recommendations TXT) 📖
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «Hector's Inheritance, Or, the Boys of Smith Institute by Jr. Horatio Alger (romance book recommendations TXT) 📖». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
“I have found the lady with whom your father and mother boarded while they were in Sacramento.”
“What does she say?”
“She says,” answered Mr. Richards, promptly, “that you are Mr. Roscoe’s own son, and were born in her house.”
“Thank Heaven!” ejaculated Hector.
“Nor is this all. I have found the minister who baptized you. He is still living, at a very advanced age—the Rev. Mr. Barnard. I called upon him, and recalled his attention to the period when your father lived in the city. I found that he remembered both your parents very well. Not only that, but he has a very full diary covering that time, in which he showed me this record:
“‘Baptized, June 17th, Hector, the son of Thomas and Martha Roscoe; a bright, healthy child, in whom the parents much delight.”
“Then it seems to me,” said Hector, “that my case is a very strong one.”
“Unusually so. In fact, it could not be stronger. I marvel how Allan Roscoe, your uncle, could have ventured upon a fraud which could be so easily proved to be such.”
“He depended upon Sacramento being so far away,” said Hector. “He thought I would accept my father’s letter without question.”
“That letter was undoubtedly forged,” said the minister.
“It must have been, but it was very cleverly forged. The handwriting was a very close copy of my father’s.” It was a great pleasure to Hector that he could say “my father” without a moment’s doubt that he was entitled to say so.
“He thought, also, that you would not have the means to come here to investigate for yourself,” said Mr. Richards.
“Yes, and he would have been right but for the commission Mr. Newman gave me. What course would you advise me to take,” asked Hector, a little later, “to substantiate my claim?”
“Get Mrs. Blodgett’s and Rev. Mr. Barnard’s sworn affidavits, and place them in the hands of a reliable lawyer, requesting him to communicate with your uncle.”
This advice seemed to Hector to be wise, and he followed it. Fortunately, he had no difficulty in inducing both parties to accede to his request. The next day he returned to San Francisco.
CHAPTER XXXVII. A NARROW ESCAPE.
Armed with the affidavits which were to restore to him the position in life of which his uncle had wickedly deprived him, Hector returned to San Francisco. He found Gregory unaffectedly glad to see him.
“Glad to see you back, Hector,” he said; “I missed you.”
Hector was glad to find that Gregory had not taken advantage of his absence to indulge in any of his old excesses. He began to hope that he had already turned over the new leaf which was so desirable.
“I know what you are thinking of,” said Gregory, after Hector had returned his salutation. “You are wondering whether I ‘cut up’ any while you were gone.”
“You don’t look as if you had,” said Hector, smiling.
“No; I have had enough of sowing wild oats. It doesn’t pay. Shall I tell you what I did last evening?”
“If you like.”
“I attended a lecture illustrated with the stereopticon. I was in bed at ten.”
“Gregory,” said Hector, taking his hand, “you don’t know how glad I am to hear this. I am sure your uncle will be delighted when you return to him so changed.”
“I’ve made a great fool of myself,” said Gregory, candidly. “Hereafter I am going to make you my model.”
Hector blushed deeply, for he was a modest boy.
“You compliment me too much, Gregory,” he said. “Still, if you are in earnest, I will try to set you a good example.”
“You won’t have any trouble in doing that. You are one of the fellows that find it easy to be good.”
“I am not sure of that, Gregory. Still, I mean to do my best.”
In the evening the two boys attended a theatrical performance. It was not till after eleven o’clock that they emerged from the theatre, and slowly, not by the most direct way, sauntered home.
There was no thought of danger in the mind of either, yet, as a fact, Hector had never in his life been exposed to peril so serious as that evening. Lurking behind in the shadow a shabby-looking man followed the two boys, keeping his eyes steadily on Hector. At a place specially favorable, our hero was startled by hearing a bullet whiz by his ear. He turned instantly, and so did Gregory. They saw a man running, and they pursued him. They might not have caught up with him, but that he stumbled and fell. Instantly they were upon him.
“Well,” he said, sullenly, “you’ve caught me after all.”
“Were you the man who fired at me?” asked Hector, “or was it my friend here you sought to kill?”
“I was firing at you,” answered their captive, coolly. “Now, what are you going to do with me?”
“Was this forced upon you by want? Did you wish to rob me?”
“No; I had another motive.”
“What was it?”
“If I tell you, will you let me go free?”
Hector hesitated.
The man proceeded, speaking with emphasis.
“If I tell you who put me up to this, and furnish you proofs so that you can bring it to him, will you let me go?”
“You will not renew the attempt?” asked Hector.
“No,” answered the man; “it isn’t likely; I shall have no further motive.”
“Yes, I agree.”
“Read that letter, then.”
“There isn’t light enough. Will you accompany me to the hotel, where I can read it?”
“I will.”
The three walked together to the hotel, where Hector and Gregory were staying. There Hector read the letter. He was astonished and horrified when he discovered that it was from his uncle to this man, with whom he seemed to have an acquaintance, describing Hector, and promising him a thousand dollars if he would put him out of the way.
“This is very important,” said Hector, gravely. “Are you
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