WHEN CARL CAME HOME--CONCLUSION
Amasa Culpepper had taken advantage of the absence of Carl to drop
around that afternoon to see the widow. He fully believed that by this
time Dock Phillips had either destroyed or lost the paper he claimed to
have found; or else Amasa felt that he could secure possession of it at
any time by paying the sum the boy demanded.
When Carl drew near his home he saw the well-known rig of the old
lawyer and grocer at the gate. Somehow, the sight gave Carl an
unpleasant feeling. Then, as his hand unconsciously went up to the
pocket where he had that precious paper, he felt a sensation of savage
joy.
They would get rid of this nuisance at last. Mr. Culpepper would have
to produce the certificate for the oil shares that had become so
valuable, now that the receipt he had given for it could be produced,
and after that an era of prosperity would come to the Oskamp's, with
grim poverty banished forever.
Carl entered by the gate, and passed around the side of the house
instead of using the front door as usual.
The boy knew that the windows of the little sitting room must be open,
and of course the afternoon caller would be in there. Carl was anxious
to hear what had caused the rich old man to don his best clothes and
drop in to see his mother of an afternoon, though he strongly suspected
the reason back of it.
It did not strike the boy that he was playing the part of an
eavesdropper, for in his mind just then the end justified the means.
And he knew that Amasa Culpepper had to be fought with his own weapons.
Evidently he must have again asked Mrs. Oskamp to marry him, and as
before met with a laughing refusal, for Carl could hear him walking
nervously up and down in the little sitting room.
Having exhausted his stock of arguments as to why she should think
seriously of his proposal, Mr. Culpepper seemed to be getting angry. He
had been courting the widow for a long time without making any
impression on her heart. It was time to change his tactics. Perhaps
since entreaties had failed something in the way of half-veiled threats
would become more successful.
"You tell me that with the burning of the tenement building more than
half of your little property has been lost," Carl heard him saying as
he crouched there under the open window.
"Yes, that is the sad truth, Mr. Culpepper," the widow admitted.
"But with a family of children to bring up how are you going to live
from now on, when before this happened you had barely enough? If you
would seriously consider the proposition I make you, and become Mrs.
Culpepper, your children would have a good home."
"That is very generous of you, Mr. Culpepper," Carl heard his mother
say, while he fairly held his breath in suspense for fear she might
agree to what the other asked; "but I cannot change my mind. I never
expect to marry again."
"But how can you get along, I want to know?" he demanded, angrily. "It
takes money to live, and you will see the children you love suffer."
"There is one resource still left," she told him, as though urged to
put him to the test. "It lies in those shares of oil stock which you
are holding for me. They have become very valuable, and when I dispose
of them I hope to have enough and to spare for all future needs."
There was a brief and awkward silence.
"But what evidence is there," he finally asked icily, "that you ever
placed any shares of stock in my hand, or even so, that they were not
delivered to you again? Of course you can show my name at the bottom
of a receipt if that is the fact?"
"Is that absolutely necessary, Mr. Culpepper?" she asked, helplessly.
"It is strictly business, madam," the visitor went on, in his cold,
cutting tones that were like the rasping of a file. "I could not think
of handing over anything of value that was in my possession without
receiving in return a receipt."
"But you would not be so cruel as to deprive my children of their bread
simply because of a little technicality, sir? I will do anything the
law demands to insure that you are not held liable whether the lost
receipt is ever found again or not."
"There is only one thing you can do," continued Mr. Culpepper, eagerly,
"that will cause me to waive my rights, and you know what that is.
Those are my only terms of surrender."
"That's just where you're a whole lot mistaken Mr. Culpepper!" cried
Carl, unable to hold in any longer, and thrusting his head and
shoulders through the open window as he spoke.
The widow gave a slight shriek, while Mr. Culpepper said something half
under his breath that no doubt expressed his feelings.
"What do you mean by saying that?" he asked, in a voice that was
unsteady.
"You made a statement that you'll have to take water on," Carl told him
with a broad smile on his face. "Listen! My mother will be down at
your office to-morrow morning with Judge Beatty and myself, and she'll
demand that you deliver the paper that this receipt calls for!"
With that he held up the precious little paper so that those in the
sitting room could see it. Mrs. Oskamp gave a bubbling cry of joy,
while Amasa Culpepper, seizing his hat and stick, hurried out of the
door, entered his buggy and whipped his horse savagely, as though glad
to vent his ill humor on some animate object.
Carl was not another moment in climbing through the open window and
gathering his mother in his strong arms. The whole story was told that
evening with the younger children gathered around. Mrs. Oskamp sat
there and felt her mother heart glow with pride as she heard how Carl
had played his part in the exciting drama connected with the hike of
the Boy Scouts.
"It seems as though some power over which you had no control must have
led you on to the glorious success that came in the end," she told the
happy Carl, after everything had been narrated. "With that paper in our
hands we can have no further trouble in securing our property. But I
shall feel that we owe something to Dock Phillips, and that it can only
be repaid through kindness to his mother."
On the following day they took Judge Beatty, who was an old friend of
Carl's father, into their confidence, and the certificate of stock was
promptly though grudgingly delivered to them on demand.
Amasa Culpepper knew that he had been fairly beaten in the game, and he
annoyed Mrs. Oskamp no longer.
The oil shares turned out to be worth a large sum of money, and it
placed the Oskamps beyond the reach of want.
Tom Chesney wrote his account of their great trip over big Bear
Mountain, and, sure enough it did take the prize when submitted in
competition with numerous others to the magazine that had made the
offer. Tom remembered his promise and sent copies of the story to Mr.
Clark, as well as to Mr. Henderson.
The last heard from Lenox the Boy Scouts were thriving famously. They
expected to enjoy many an outing under the charge of the good-hearted
scout master, Mr. Witherspoon, but some of the boys were of the opinion
that there never could be just such a wonderful series of exciting
adventures befall them as had accompanied the hike over Big Bear
Mountain.