CHAPTER XV.

Ben buys a house in Pittsburg--Engineering for a New Railroad--Goes to Petrolia and Opens House--The Ladies Seminary.

In the city of Pittsburg, there stands, on Tenth street, a handsome brick house, which has a history connected with it.

This house was once the property of Ben Hogan. Upon leaving Parker's Landing, as already narrated, he made his way to Pittsburg, accompanied by Kitty and Lizzie Topley, and carrying with him fifteen thousand dollars in cash. A part of this money he was desirous of investing in real estate, and after looking about the city, he finally hit upon the dwelling on Tenth street, alluded to above.

For this place he paid seven thousand dollars, and expended about three thousand more in furniture and decorations. The interior of the house was magnificent in the extreme. The furniture, carpets, pictures, etc., were of the costliest description. Kitty and Lizzie were the only occupants, Ben's idea being to fit up a permanent and handsome place for his home. It was what might be called a semi-private resort, where a few high-toned patrons only were admitted. Nothing but choice wines could be obtained in the place, and those who were desirous of maintaining their reputation as gentlemen were expected to order liberally without regard to the rather high price per bottle.

With the outlay involved in fitting out this Pittsburg house, and the other expenses which he had met with after leaving Parker's, Ben found his capital exhausted. He therefore set about to discover some means by which he could make another raise.

It so happened at this time that they were building a railroad, or rather discussing the feasibility of building one, between Pittsburg and Butler. This gave Ben a suggestion for a plan of operation. Joining with a couple of gentlemen who were not overburdened with conscientious scruples as to what they did, he provided himself with a surveyor's glass, a line, poles, and other instruments used by civil engineers. Then the three friends set out for the country between Pittsburg and Butler. Arrived at the spot where stood the house of a rich farmer, the self-constituted surveyors began their work. They set up their sighting glass, and proceeded to make observations, stretch the line and drive in stakes.

It was not long before these operations attracted the attention of the farmer, who came out and wanted to know what the strangers were doing. He was informed that they were civil engineers, and were laying out the line for the new road to Butler.

"But you ain't going to make that 'ere railroad run through my land, be you?"

"The track will pass straight through your front door," answered Ben, in a business-like manner.

The farmer looked as though his death sentence had just been pronounced. He invited the surveying party into the house, and insisted upon their becoming his guests while engaged in their work. Meantime he set about seeing what could be done to prevent the proposed road from running through his land.

Waiting until evening, he accosted one of Ben's associates, saying:

"This ere road is going to do me a powerful lot of harm. I'd give a pile of money rather than have the track cut through my property."

The confidence man stroked his moustache thoughtfully, and rejoined:

"Well, you might speak to Mr. Hogan about the matter. Perhaps you could induce him to change the route. I'd offer him five hundred dollars at the least, if I were you. He wouldn't consider anything less than that."

The next day the farmer approached Ben on the subject, and after beating around the bush for some time, finally offered him five hundred dollars if he would change the line of the road.

Ben pretended to hesitate, said that it ought to be a thousand, at least; and finally accepted the money.

The next day the party returned to Pittsburg, for the purpose, as Ben explained, of explaining to the directors that the route of the road would have to be changed. The farmer, of course, discovered that he had been swindled, and threatened several times to bring a suit against Hogan for damages; but none of these were ever carried through.

Soon after this adventure, Ben left for Pittsburg, and struck out for Petrolia. This was his first advent into Petrolia. Kitty remained in the Pittsburg house.

Ben's first venture in Petrolia was the purchase of a small wooden house from one Lauterbach, for which he was to pay three hundred and fifty dollars. The house stood on Fairview street. Ben at once laid in a large stock of liquors, having fitted up an ice chest capable of holding two tons of ice. While he was making his preparations to open this house, the good citizens of Petrolia took alarm at the idea of having Ben Hogan for a fellow townsman, and at once called a meeting at which it was voted to arrest all whiskey dealers in the place. Messrs. Campbell, Jamison and others were among the leaders in this crusade. The liquor dealers were arrested, according to the programme, and Ben appeared in the justice's court as their counsel. Bail was fixed in the sum of five hundred dollars each. Ben at once offered to become surety for the indicted dealers. The Squire, as the police justice was called, eyed Hogan a little suspiciously.

"What is your name?" he inquired.

"Ben Hogan," was the prompt reply.

This caused an immediate sensation in the court-room.

The Squire was paralyzed, so to speak, at the announcement. He was afraid to accept the offered bail, and still more afraid to refuse it.

"Where is your real estate?" he asked.

"In Pittsburg," answered Ben. "It is first-class unincumbered property, and you're bound to accept me as bail!"

Here followed an argument on the part of the prosecuting lawyers, as to whether the prisoners should be admitted to bail at all. They referred the Squire to statutes which they claimed showed that the men must be held. Meantime Ben took one of the lawyers aside, and offered him thirty-six dollars if he would settle the case without further trouble. This offer had a curious effect upon the legal gentleman's opinion. He straightway stood up and argued that what he had before said was all a mistake; that the statutes plainly showed that the case could be settled there and then; and that any man who said it couldn't was a liar.

The Squire, who was a good deal muddled, at last made up his mind that the lawyer was right, and so declared that the matter should be dropped.

No sooner had he rendered this decision, than Ben arose and said, addressing the Squire:

"Now, sir, I mean to have you arrested for blackmail!"

"Wh-wh-what do you mean?" stammered the Squire, frightened half out of his wits.

"I mean," returned Hogan, "that there has been bribery here, and that the law does not permit such a case to be settled. I shall let the matter rest, however, providing I am not molested in my own business. I've opened a house here in Petrolia, myself, and to-morrow being Sunday, I invite you all to come around and get a drink. For I want it understood that I am going to sell liquor when and where I please!"

It can readily be imagined that this speech created a good deal of a sensation among the hearers. Nevertheless, the invitation was accepted, the lawyers visited Ben's house the next day, got gloriously drunk before they left, and that ended all further disputes in the court. This decisive action on Ben's part secured to the Petrolia liquor dealers the right of carrying on their business--which otherwise they probably would never have obtained.

After a short time, Ben found that he needed a bigger house than the one which he had bought. He endeavored to get a lease of some suitable premises, but the feeling against him was so strong that he found it impossible to do this. He therefore resolved to build a house for himself.

Going out into the suburbs of the town, he selected an open field in which oats were growing. This field was the property of Mr. Jamison, already alluded to. Without consulting that gentleman, Ben went to work on a certain Monday, and in just one week's time erected a structure, one hundred by twenty feet, containing fifteen bedrooms, a ball room, bar, and other requisites. He had this house open and in full blast before the worthy Mr. Jamison had so much as discovered that a building had been erected on his property. When he did discover it he was naturally excited and enraged. He went out to the spot, and, meeting Ben, asked him if he knew who had put up that house.

Ben said he hadn't the remotest idea who did it.

"Don't you know I own this ground?" demanded Mr. Jamison, angrily.

"Well, what if you do?" answered Ben. "You know I couldn't get a lease anywhere in the town, so I have come out here where I don't molest anybody."

"But you molest me," was the rejoinder. "You molest my oats!"

"Oh, well," said Ben, "I'll buy your oats, for that matter. And as I only want to stay here for three months, you'd better let me remain. The fact of it is, Mr. Jamison, you live here in Petrolia, own property, and do business. I have come here to live here also, and I am going to carry on my business as I see fit. This is an oil region, and it's all nonsense to talk about stopping the sale of liquor. It will be sold, of course. And I am going to sell it!"

Mr. Jamison began to weaken under these arguments. Perhaps he did not consider it safe for his own welfare to arouse Ben's anger. He therefore adopted a pacifying tone.

"Well, if you will agree not to keep your place open Sundays, you can stay," he said.

Ben assured him that he would never sell any liquor on Sundays, as six days in the week were all he cared for.

But it so happened on the first Sunday that a party of thirty men drove out for a day's sport, and out of sheer tender-heartedness Ben was obliged to open up the ballroom and furnish them with music. Of course they could not dance without liquor, and so he gave them that also. It was his tender-heartedness, you will observe, that was to blame for this.

Among the amusing incidents which occurred at this time, I will relate one of an exceeding spicy nature:

On a certain cold and drizzly day, a farmer's wagon drove up to the door, and the farmer, with his wife and daughter, entered Ben's place. He was entirely ignorant of its character, and about as verdant as they make them. While the wife and daughter made their way into the kitchen to dry their clothes by the fire, the farmer accosted Ben, saying:

"Whose place is this, anyhow?"

"Professor Hogan's," was the reply.

"Well, now, I want to know!" ejaculated the farmer. "And you have some other kind of business, maybe?"

"Oh, yes," answered Ben. "I am also engaged in the oil business. I've got fifteen pumping wells."

"You don't say so!" returned the visitor.

Meantime the mother and daughter, in the kitchen, were propounding conundrums to Lizzie Topley. Noticing the numerous young ladies sitting about the room, the old lady inquired what sort of a place it was.

"This is a female college," said Lizzie, gravely.

"A female college. Well, I do declare!" exclaimed the farmer's wife. "What an excellent idee to be sure. Here we've lived in the oil country all these years and never had a college before. Who is the professor?"

"Hogan, his name is;" answered Lizzie--"Professor Hogan."

"And what are the terms?" continued the old lady.

"Fifty dollars a quarter!"

"Well, now, we've got a farm that we're a trying to sell, and if we do sell it, I'll have my daughter come down here, and enter the college. If we don't sell the farm, we've got a brindle cow that'll fetch fifty dollars anyway, and that'll pay for one quarter!"

The farmer and his wife finally took their departure, thoroughly convinced that they had seen the only private college in the oil country. The old lady afterward learned what sort of a college it was, and she concluded that she would not send her sixteen-year-old daughter to be educated by "Professor Hogan."

Ben's absence from Kitty led him at times to fits of jealousy, and in one of these he drove one night to Pittsburg, a distance of forty miles. Reaching the city at six o'clock in the morning, he proceeded at once to his house, entered through a back window, and stole quietly into his mistress's room. There his suspicions found abundant confirmation! In the bed with Kitty was a girl, both wrapped in sleep. Ben drew his revolver, with the intention of committing a double murder; but the weapon missed fire, and in another moment Kitty had sprung from the bed.

She soon pacified her infuriated lover. The girl, she explained, was her country cousin, Julia by name, who had come to the house and spent the evening in opening champagne. Both she and the "cousin" had partaken so freely of the wine that they became drowsy, and had so fallen asleep on the same bed.

Cousins, and especially country cousins, are, as we know, a privileged class; and so Ben concluded that he would permit Kitty's friend to remain where she was. It may be mentioned that this little trip cost our hero the comfortable sum of one thousand dollars, for he remained in Pittsburg long enough to visit a number of faro banks, and to open several baskets of wine. He concluded, upon his return to Petrolia, that country cousins were too expensive luxuries to be indulged in often, and jealousy didn't pay.