Barbour Benton's Venture

1. Auflage 2023
ISBN: 978-3-98826-236-3
Verlag: OTB eBook publishing
Format: EPUB
Kopierschutz: 0 - No protection

E-Book, Englisch, 214 Seiten

Reihe: Classics To Go

Benton's Venture is a young adult novel written by Ralph Henry Barbour and first published in 1911. The story follows the adventures of Benton, a teenage boy who lives with his wealthy uncle in a small New England town. Benton is curious and adventurous, and he dreams of exploring the world and making his own way in life. One day, Benton decides to follow his dream and embark on a journey to explore the American West. He sets out on his own, traveling by train and by foot, and he meets a diverse group of people along the way. Despite facing many challenges and obstacles, Benton remains determined to succeed and to carve out his own place in the world. As Benton journeys across the country, he faces various dangers and hardships, including a dangerous river crossing, a run-in with a group of robbers, and a severe illness. However, he also encounters many kind and helpful people who assist him on his journey. Throughout the novel, Benton learns important lessons about perseverance, self-reliance, and the importance of following one's dreams. He also learns to appreciate the kindness and generosity of others and to recognize the importance of community and human connections. In the end, Benton's journey leads him to a new understanding of himself and his place in the world, and he returns to his hometown a wiser and more mature young man.

Autoren/Hrsg.

Barbour, Ralph Henry

Leseproben

CHAPTER I
TOM HAS AN IDEA
“Want to buy an automobile, son?” Tom Benton smiled and shook his head. “All right,” pursued the man good-naturedly. “I saw you looking at it, and I didn’t know but you might be wanting a good car. She’s a bargain.” “Sort of—worn out, isn’t it?” asked Tom, moving around to a new point of view. “N-no, there’s life in her yet, I guess. ’Course she needs overhauling, as you might say, and some paint. But she’s got four whole cylinders, a good set of gears an’—an’ some other things. No, she ain’t as bad as she looks. If you hear of anyone looking for a bargain in a five-seat, twenty-two-horsepower automobile, you tell ’em to come and see me, son.” “What do you want for her?” asked Tom. The carriage dealer looked at him shrewdly, kicked one worn and tattered tire as if to satisfy himself that it wouldn’t come to pieces, and replied: “A hundred and fifty dollars takes her just as she stands, with top, side curtains, top cover an’—an’ I think there’s a jack under the hind seat.” “I dare say that’s reasonable,” replied Tom doubtfully, “but I guess it would take a lot to put that car in running shape, wouldn’t it?” The dealer shrugged his shoulders. “I reckon fifty dollars would make a new car out of her, son. A coat of paint would make a whole pile of difference in her looks, anyway, and I’d paint her and varnish her for—let me see now; well, for thirty dollars. And that’s twenty dollars cheaper than anyone else would do it for. Better think it over.” “I’m afraid I couldn’t buy her,” laughed Tom. “I haven’t got that much money.” “Well, I didn’t suppose you had, but maybe your father would buy it for you. Ain’t you John Benton’s son? Ain’t Postmaster Benton your daddy?” “Yes, sir, but I guess he isn’t buying automobiles just now. If I hear of anyone wanting one, though, I’ll tell them about this one. Want me to help you run it inside?” “Yes, you might take a wheel over there. Wait till I put the brake off. Now, then! Heave-o! That’s the ticket. Easy! Look out for them hubs on that surrey. All right. Much obliged to you. Tell you what I’ll do, son; if you send a buyer for her, I’ll make you a present of ten dollars. That’s fair, eh? You tell folks she’s a bargain. She is, too. I reckon I could get three hundred for her in the city. I took her in trade from a man over to Graywich. Why, that car cost thirteen hundred dollars when she was new!” “I guess that was a long time ago, wasn’t it?” hazarded Tom. “Humph! About three years, if the man told the truth. That ain’t old, though, for an automobile. I was reading the other day about an automobile that had been run twelve years and was as good as new!” “Will this one run now?” Tom asked. “She might if she had some gasoline in her. Mind, I ain’t saying she would, for I ain’t tried her. I wouldn’t know how. I never ran one of the things in my life. But the man I took her from says she’ll run, an’ I’ll take his word for it till I find out different. Anyway, she’s all there; there ain’t no parts missing. You can tell ’em that, son.” “Yes, sir; I will.” Tom rescued his books, which he had laid aside, and, with a final look at the automobile, left Saunders’ Carriage Works and took up his homeward journey again. It was the first week in June, and the afternoon was warm and almost summer-like. There was a lazy quality in the air, which, possibly, explains why Tom had taken twenty minutes to get from the high school to Saunders’ Carriage Works and why the sight of a decrepit-looking automobile standing in front of the works had caused him to pause and waste another ten minutes. He had left school with the intention of going out to the field, after leaving his books at home and making a raid on the pantry, to watch the high school team practice baseball. Now, however, baseball practice had passed out of his mind. He was thinking of that old automobile back there. He knew very well what he would do with a hundred and fifty dollars if he had it! He would buy that car, fix it up so it would run and make money with it! He needed money, too. He had already made up his mind to find work of some kind as soon as school was over, and so far the best thing that had offered was a position at four dollars a week in the Audelsville Paper Mill. Tom was convinced that his services ought to be worth more than that stipend, and, if a more remunerative position could be found, the paper mill was not likely to see him. Tom’s father was postmaster at Audelsville, but the salary was barely enough to provide for a family of three. It had long been a settled matter that a college education for Tom was beyond the possibilities, and that so soon as he had graduated from the high school he was to go to work. There was still another year of schooling ahead, however, and Tom, who needed clothes pretty badly nowadays, owing to an unfortunate but quite natural proclivity for outgrowing his garments, didn’t see why it was necessary to complete his education before beginning to earn money. And if he owned that automobile—Tom sighed as he pushed open the gate and went up the short path to the house. The pantry didn’t offer much in the way of variety to-day, but Tom selected four doughnuts and a banana, and went out to the porch. There he seated himself on the top step, and set to with a good appetite. He had finished the second doughnut when the sound of whistling behind the row of overgrown lilacs along the fence reached him. Tom craned his neck, for the whistling sounded like the musical efforts of Willard Morris. Tom was not mistaken. The smiling face of Willard appeared over the gate. “Hello, Tom!” greeted Willard. “Going out to the field?” “I guess so. Come on in and have a doughnut.” Nothing loth, Willard accepted the invitation, and a moment later was perched at Tom’s side, and was setting his teeth into one of Mrs. Benton’s doughnuts. Willard was a good-looking youth of seventeen, large and broad-shouldered, with nice eyes, and a pleasant, likable face. He was Tom’s senior by a full year, and was in the class ahead of him at high school. But, in spite of that, the boys were very good friends. While Willard’s father was no better off than Tom’s, Willard himself had lately come into a small legacy from a grandmother who had died, and he was to start in college in the fall—a piece of good fortune that Tom certainly envied him. “I wish,” announced Tom presently, after they had talked school affairs for a few minutes, “I wish I had a hundred and fifty dollars, Will.” “What for?” “An automobile.” Willard stared at him in surprise. “Gee,” he said, “you’re getting swell! I’d like to see the automobile you’d get for a hundred and fifty dollars, though, Tom!” “You can see it in five minutes. It’s at Saunders’ Carriage Works. It’s an old one, and I guess it’s in bad shape, but it could be fixed up all right. It’s cheap at a hundred and fifty, I guess.” “I guess most any automobile would be cheap at that figure if it could be made to go. What do you want it for, Tom? Can you run one?” “I’ve never tried, but anyone can run an automobile after learning how. I’ve been sitting here wondering if father would get it for me if I asked him. I guess he couldn’t afford it, though.” “Say, are you daffy?” demanded Willard. “Of course he won’t buy you an automobile! Besides, you’ve got a bicycle, haven’t you? Isn’t that good enough for you? It takes money to run an auto after you’ve got it, Tom.” “Oh, I don’t want it for—for pleasure. I want to make money with it, Will. And I could if I had it, too.” “How would you do it?” “Well——” Tom hesitated a moment. Then, “You aren’t thinking of buying it yourself, are you?” he asked. “Not a bit!” laughed Willard. “Then I’ll tell you. You know when folks stop here in Audelsville, drummers and folks like that, they have to go pretty near twelve blocks to get to the hotel or the stores.” “I know the station’s a long way from the town,” acknowledged Willard. “I thought last Fall, after the Gordon Academy game, I’d never get home. I had a lame ankle and a stiff knee, and it seemed about two miles from the station to the house.” “That’s what I mean. Drummers always have bags and trunks, and they can’t walk to the hotel. So they take one of those rickety old hacks down there, or they wait for a car.” “They don’t if they’re in a hurry,” said Willard grimly. “The cars only run every half-hour or so.” “Twenty minutes; but they’re never there when a train comes in, and so the folks usually take one of Connors’ hacks. That costs them fifty cents apiece, and twenty-five cents for a trunk. Well, if I had that automobile, Will, I’d be down there when the trains come in, and I guess I’d do a good business. Most anyone would rather go to the hotel in an automobile than a hack. It’s quicker, in the first place, and then, besides, I’d take them up for a quarter.” “Why, say, that isn’t a bad idea! But old Connors would be mad, wouldn’t he? How many would your auto hold?” “Four, besides me,” answered Tom. “It would be big enough most times, I guess.” “But gasoline would cost you money, Tom; don’t forget that. And oil; and repairs. I...