A BUSINESS TRANSACTION.
When Fred Sheldon saw Bud Heyland standing before him in the path, his
impulse was to whirl about and run, for he knew too well what to expect
from the bully; but the latter, reading his thoughts called out:
"Hold on, Freddy, I won't hurt you, though you deserve a good
horsewhipping on account of the mean way you cheated me out of the
reward for capturing the lion; but I have a little business with you."
Wondering what all this could mean Fred stood still while the red-faced
young man approached, though our hero wished as fervently that he was
somewhere else as he did when he found himself face to face with the
lion in the lane.
"Jake sent me," added Bud in his most persuasive manner, and with
a strong effort to win the confidence of the boy, who was somewhat
reassured by the last words.
"What does Mr. Kincade want?" asked Fred.
"Why, he told me to hurry after you and say that he had made a mistake
in paying you that money."
"I guess he didn't make any mistake," replied the surprised boy.
"Yes, he did; it's twenty dollars short."
"No, it isn't, for Squire Jones and I counted it over twice."
"That don't make any difference; I tell you there was a mistake and he
sent me to correct it."
"Why didn't you come over to Squire Jones' office, then, and fix it?"
"I didn't know you was there."
Fred knew this was untrue, for Bud sat on the porch and watched him as
he walked across the street with the squire.
"Well, if you are so sure of it, then you can give me the twenty
dollars and it will be all right."
"I want you to take out the money and count it here before me."
"I sha'n't do it."
"I guess you will; you've got to."
"But I can't."
"What's the reason you can't?"
"I haven't got the money with me."
"You haven't!" exclaimed Bud, in dismay. "Where is it?"
"Locked up in Squire Jones' safe."
The bully was thunderstruck, and gave expression to some exclamations
too forcible to be recorded.
It was evident that he was unprepared for such news, and he seemed to
be eager to apply his cruel whip to the little fellow toward whom he
felt such unreasonable hatred.
"I've got a settlement to make with you, any way," he said, advancing
threateningly toward him.
"What have I done," asked Fred, backing away from him, "that you should
take every chance you can get, Bud, to hurt me?"
"What have you done?" repeated the bully, "you've done a good deal, as
you know well enough."
But at this juncture, when poor Fred thought there was no escape for
him, Bud Heyland, very curiously, changed his mind.
"I'll let you off this time," said he, "but it won't do for you to try
any more of your tricks. When I come to think, it was ten dollars that
the money was short. Here is a twenty-dollar bill. I want you to get it
changed and give me the ten dollars to-morrow."
Fred Sheldon was bewildered by this unexpected turn to the interview,
but he took the bill mechanically, and promised to do as he was told.
"There's another thing I want to say to you," added Bud, stopping as
he was on the point of moving away: "You must not answer any questions
that may be asked you about the bill."
The wondering expression of the lad showed that he failed to take in
the full meaning of this warning, and Bud added, impatiently.
"Don't tell anybody I gave it to you. Say you found it in the road if
they want to know where you got it; that's all. Do you understand?"
Fred began to comprehend, and he resolved on the instant that he would
not tell a falsehood to save himself from a score of whippings at the
hands of this evil boy, who would not have given the caution had he not
possessed good reasons for doing so.
Bud Heyland repeated the last warning, word for word, as first uttered,
and then, striding by the affrighted Fred, continued in the direction
of Tottenville, while the younger boy was glad enough to go homeward.
The sun had not set yet when he reached the house where he was born,
and he hurried through with his work and set out for the old brick
dwelling, which had been the scene of so many stirring incidents within
the last few days.
He was anxious to see his mother, who had been away several days. He
felt that she ought to know of his great good fortune, that she might
rejoice with him.
"If she doesn't get there by to-morrow or next day I'll have to go
after her," he said to himself, "for I'll burst if I have to hold this
news much longer. And won't she be glad? It's hard work for us to get
along on our pension, and I can see she has to deny herself a good many
things so that I can go to school. I thought I would be happy when I
got the money, and so I am, but it is more on her account than on my
own--halloo!"
It seemed as if the lane leading to the old brick mansion was destined
to play a very important part in the history of the lad, for he had
reached the very spot where he met the lion the night before, when a
man suddenly stepped out from behind one of the trees and stood for
a moment, with the setting sun shining full on his back, his figure
looking as if it were stamped in ink against the flaming horizon beyond.
As Fred stared at him, he held up his right hand and crooked his
finger for him to approach, just as he did when sitting on the porch of
the village hotel, for it was Cyrus Sutton.
The boy was not pleased, by any means, to meet him in such a place, for
he had felt suspicious of him ever since he saw him sitting in such
familiar converse with Bud Heyland and Jacob Kincade.
Nevertheless, our hero walked boldly toward him, and with a faint
"Good-evening, sir," waited to hear what he had to say.
"Your name is Frederick Sheldon, I believe?"
Fred nodded to signify that he was correct in his surmise.
"You met Bud Heyland in the woods over yonder, didn't you?"
"Yes, sir; how could you know it?"
"I saw him going in that direction, and I saw you come out the path;
what more natural than that I should conclude you had met? He gave you
a twenty-dollar bill to get changed, didn't he?"
"He did, sir," was the answer of the amazed boy, who wondered how it
was this person could have learned so much, unless he got the news from
Bud Heyland himself.
"Let me see the money."
Fred did not like this peremptory way of being addressed by a person
whom he had never seen until that afternoon, but he drew the bill from
his pocket.
As he did so he brought several other articles with it, among them his
new knife, which dropped to the ground. He quickly picked them up, and
shoved them hurriedly out of sight.
Mr. Sutton did not seem to notice this trifling mishap, but his eyes
were bent on the crumpled bill which was handed to him.
As soon as he got it in his hands he turned his back toward the setting
sun, and placing himself in the line of some of the horizontal rays
which found their way between the trees he carefully studied the paper.
He stood full a minute without moving, and then merely said, "Ahem!" as
though he were clearing his throat. Then he carefully doubled up the
piece of national currency, and opening his pocket-book placed it in it.
"Are you going to keep that?" asked Fred. "It isn't yours."
"He wanted you to get it changed, didn't he?"
"Yes, sir; but he didn't want me to give it away."
"Of course not, of course not; excuse me, but I only wanted to change
the bill for you. Here you are."
Thereupon he handed four five-dollar bills to Fred, who accepted them
gladly enough, though still wondering at the peculiar actions of the
man.
"One word," he added. "Bud told you not to answer any questions when
you got the bill changed. I haven't asked you any, but he will have
some to ask himself, which he will be very anxious you should answer.
Take my advice, and don't let him know a single thing."
"I won't," said Fred, giving his promise before he thought.
"Very well, don't forget it; he will be on the lookout for you
to-morrow, and when you see him, hand him his ten dollars and keep the
rest for yourself, and then end the interview. Good evening, my son."
"Good evening," and Fred was moving on, when Mr. Cyrus Sutton said:
"Hold on a minute," at the same time crooking his forefinger in a way
peculiar to himself; "I understand you were in the house there the
other night, when it was robbed by a tramp."
"I was, sir; the whole village knows that."
"You were lucky enough to get away while it was going on, though you
were deceived by the man whom you met here in the lane."
The lad assured him he was correct, as he seemed to be in every
supposition which he made.
"Do you think you would know either of those men if you met them again?"
The question was a startling one, not from the words themselves, but
from the peculiar manner in which it was asked.
Cyrus Sutton bent forward, thrusting his face almost in that of the boy
and dropping his voice to a deep guttural bass as he fixed his eyes on
those of Fred.
The latter looked up and said:
"The voice of the man I met in the lane sounded just like yours. Are
you the man?"
It surely was a stranger question than that to which the lad had made
answer, and Sutton, throwing back his head, laughed as if he would sink
to the earth from excess of mirth.
"Well, that's the greatest joke of the season. Am I the other tramp
that led you on such a wild-goose chase? Well, I should say not."
Nevertheless Fred Sheldon felt absolutely sure that this was the man he
accused him of being.
Mr. Sutton, with a few jesting remarks, bade the boy good-evening, and
the latter hastened on to the brick mansion, where he busied himself
for a half hour in doing up a few chores that Michael, the hired man,
had left for him.
When these were finished, he went into the house, with a good appetite
for his supper, which was awaiting him.
The old ladies were greatly pleased to learn he had been paid such a
large sum for capturing the lion, and they did not regret the fright
they had suffered, since it resulted in such substantial good for their
favorite.
"Now, if you could only find our silverware," said Aunt Annie, "what a
nice sum you would earn!"
"Wouldn't I? I'd just roll in wealth, and I'd make mother so happy
she'd feel miserable."
"But I'm afraid we shall never see the silver again," observed Miss
Lizzie, with a deep sigh.
"Wasn't there some money taken, too?"
"Yes; several hundred dollars. But we don't mind that, for we can get
along without it; but the silverware, you know, has been in the family
for more than two centuries."
"You haven't owned it all that time, have you?"
"My goodness! How old do you suppose we are?" asked the amused old
lady.
"I never thought, but it would be a good thing to get the money, too,
wouldn't it? Has Archie Jackson been here to-day?"
"Yes. He says that the officer he sent for doesn't come, and so he's
going to be a detective himself."
"A detective," repeated Fred to himself. "That's a man, I believe, that
goes prying around after thieves and bad people, and is pretty smart in
making himself look like other folks."
"Yes," said Aunt Lizzie, "he went all over the house again, and climbed
out on top of the porch, and was crawling around there, 'looking for
signs,' as he called them. I don't know how he made out, but he must
have been careless, for he slipped off and came down on his head and
shoulders, and when we ran out to help him up, said some awful bad
words, and went limping down the lane."
"He don't know how to climb," said Fred, as he disposed of his usual
supply of gingerbread; "it takes a boy like me to climb, a man is
always sure to get in trouble."
"Archibald seems to be very unfortunate," said Aunt Annie mildly, and
with a meek smile on her face, "for just before he fell off the roof of
the porch, he came bumping all the way down-stairs and said the bad man
had put oil on them, so as to make him slip to the bottom. I am quite
anxious about him, but I hope no bones were broken."
"I saw that his hand was swelled up too," said the sister, "and when
I inquired about it he said he caught it in the crack of the door,
playing with his little boy, though I don't see how that could make
such a hurt as his was. But there has been some one else here."
"Who was that?" asked Fred, excitedly.
"A very nice, gentlemanly person, though he wasn't dressed in very fine
clothes. His name was--let me see, circus-circum--no----"
"Cyrus Sutton?"
"That's it--yes, that's his name."
"What was he after?" demanded Fred, indignantly.
"He said he was staying in the village a little while, and, having
heard about our loss, he came out to make inquiries."
"I would like to know what business he had to do that," said the boy,
who was sure the old ladies were altogether too credulous and kind to
strangers who presented themselves at their doors.
"Why, Frederick, it was a great favor for him to show such an interest
in our affairs."
"Yes; so it was in them other two chaps, I s'pose; this ain't the first
time Mr. Cyrus Sutton has been in your house."
"What do you mean, Frederick?"
"I mean this," answered Fred, wheeling his chair about and slapping his
hand several times upon the table, by way of emphasis, "that Mr. Cyrus
Sutton, as he calls himself, is the man I met in the lane the other
night, and who climbed into the window and helped the other fellow
carry off your plate and money; there!"
The ladies raised their hands in protesting amazement.
"Impossible! You must be mistaken!"
"I know it, and I told him so, too!"
"You did! Didn't he kill you?"
"Not that I know of," laughed Fred. "I don't feel very dead, anyway;
but though he had on whiskers the other night as the other one did, I
knew his voice."
Young Sheldon did not think it best to say anything about the suspicion
he had formed against Bud Heyland, for that was coming so near home
that it would doubtless cause immediate trouble.
Nor did he tell how he was sure, only a short time before, that Jacob
Kincade was the partner of Bud in the theft, but that the latter, who
handed him the two hundred dollars, was relieved from all suspicion, at
least so far as the lad himself was concerned.
"Have you told Archibald of this?" asked Aunt Lizzie, when Fred had
repeated his declaration several times.
"What's the use of telling him? He would start in such a hurry to
arrest him that he would tumble over something and break his neck.
Then, he'd get the reward, too, and I wouldn't have any of it."
"We will see that you have justice," said Miss Lizzie, assuringly; "you
deserve it for what you have already done."
"I don't want it, and I won't have it until I can earn it, that's
certain. I must go to school to-morrow, and I brought over two of my
books to study my lessons. I had mother's permission to stay home to go
to the circus, but I was out to-day, and I s'pose Mr. McCurtis will
give me a good whipping for it to-morrow. Anyway, I'll wear my trousers
down, instead of rolling 'em up, till I learn how the land lies."
This seemed a prudent conclusion, and as the ladies were anxious that
their favorite should keep up with his classes they busied themselves
with their household duties while the lad applied himself with might
and main to his mental work.
At the end of half an hour he had mastered it, and asked the ladies if
there was anything he could do for them.
"I forgot to tell Michael," said Aunt Annie, "before he went home, that
we want some groceries from the store, and I would like him to give the
order before coming here in the morning."
"I'll take the order to him if you will write it out."
Thanking him for his courtesy, the order was prepared, and, tucking it
in his pocket, Fred Sheldon started down the road on a trot to the home
of Michael Heyland, the hired man.
"I wonder whether Bud is there?" he said to himself, as he approached
the humble house. "I don't s'pose he'll bother me, but he'll want to
know about that money as soon as he sees me."
Without any hesitation the lad knocked at the door and was bidden to
enter. As he did so he saw that Mrs. Heyland was the only one at home.
"Michael has gone to the village," said the lady of the house, in
explanation; "but I'm expecting him home in the course of an hour or
so, and perhaps you had better wait."
"I guess there isn't any need of it. Aunt Annie wants him to take an
order to the store to-morrow morning before he comes up to the house,
and I can leave it with you."
"Is it writ out?"
"Yes; here it is," said Fred, laying the piece of folded paper on
the stand beside the Bible and a copy of the Tottenville _Weekly
Illuminator_.
The lad had no particular excuse for staying longer, but he was anxious
to ask several questions before going back, and he was in doubt as to
how he should go about it.
But when he was invited to sit down he did so, and asked, in the most
natural manner:
"Where is Bud?"
"He's down to the village, too."
"When will he be home?"
"That's a hard question to answer, and I don't think Bud himself could
tell you if he tried. You know he's been traveling so long with the
circus and has so many friends in the village that they are all glad to
see him and won't let him come home. Bud was always a good boy, and I
don't wonder that everybody thinks so much of him."
Fred Sheldon indulged in a little smile for his own amusement, but he
took care that the doting mother did not notice it.
"Michael was always hard on Bud, but he sees how great his mistake
was, and when he rode by on the big wagon, cracking his whip, he felt
as proud of him as I did."
"Is Bud going to be home long?"
"He got leave of absence for a few days, because the boy isn't feeling
very well. They've worked him too hard altogether. You observed how
pale-looking he is?"
Fred could not say that he had noticed any alarming paleness about the
young man, but he did not deny the assertion of the mother.
"Does Bud like it with the circus?"
"Oh, yes, and they just dote on him. Bud tells me that Colonel Bandman,
the owner of the circus and menagerie, has told him that if he keeps on
doing so well he's going to take him in as partner next year."
"Mrs. Heyland, why do you call him Bud?"
"He was such a sweet baby that we nick-named him 'Birdy,' and it has
stuck by him since. When he went to school he was called Budman,
that being a cunning fancy of the darling boy, but his right name is
Nathaniel Higgens, though most people don't know it."
Fred Sheldon had got the information he was seeking.