CHAPTER II — SIGNS OF A TEMPEST
CHAPTER III — MRS. ROSS MAKES TWO UNSATISFACTORY VISITS
CHAPTER IV — HARRY LOSES HIS PLACE, AFTER ALL
CHAPTER V — LOOKING FOR WORK
CHAPTER VI — UNCLE OBED ARRIVES FROM ILLINOIS
CHAPTER VII — AN UNWELCOME GUEST
CHAPTER VIII — UNCLE OBED MAKES A PROPOSAL
CHAPTER IX — NOTICE TO QUIT
CHAPTER X — PHILIP MEETS HIS MATCH
CHAPTER XI — THE TWO CONSPIRATORS
CHAPTER XII — AN UNEXPECTED INVITATION
CHAPTER XIII — THREE YOUNG SPORTSMEN
CHAPTER XIV — WHAT HAPPENED TO HARRY IN THE WOOD
CHAPTER XV — PHILIP’S BAD ADVISER
CHAPTER XVI — BOUND HAND AND FOOT
CHAPTER XVII. — WHAT HARRY SAW IN THE WOOD
CHAPTER XVIII — HARRY’S COMMISSION
CHAPTER XIX — SECOND VISIT TO THE WOOD
CHAPTER XX — ON THE WAY TO NEW YORK
CHAPTER XXI — A REWARD OFFERED
CHAPTER XXII — BROUGHT TO BAY
CHAPTER XXIII — FINDING THE BOX
CHAPTER XXIV — PHILIP IN A TIGHT PLACE
CHAPTER XXV — PHILIP BECOMES A PRISONER
CHAPTER XXVI — PHILIP IS FORCED TO APOLOGIZE
CHAPTER XXVII — THE ARREST
CHAPTER XXVIII — MR. CHASE IS BROUGHT TO JUSTICE
CHAPTER XXIX — HARRY BECOMES A “BONDHOLDER.”
CHAPTER XXX — CONGREVE’S SCHEME
CHAPTER XXXI — THE TEMPTER
CHAPTER XXXII — PHILIP DOES NOT FEEL HAPPY
CHAPTER XXXIII — STEALING THE BONDS
CHAPTER XXXIV — PHILIP GETS RID OF HIS PLUNDER
CHAPTER XXXV — THROWING SUSPICION ON HARRY
CHAPTER XXXVI — HARRY IS CHARGED WITH THEFT
CHAPTER XXXVII — SEARCHING THE COTTAGE
CHAPTER XXXVIII — PHILIP’S SURPRISE
CHAPTER XXXIX — HOW CONGREVE SUCCEEDED
CHAPTER XL — PREPARING TO PROSECUTE
CHAPTER XLI — HARRY MANAGES HIS OWN CASE
CHAPTER XLII — CONCLUSION
THE TIN BOX
CHAPTER I — A COLLISION
“Have you finished breakfast already, Harry?” asked Mrs. Gilbert, as
Harry rose hurriedly from the table and reached for his hat, which hung
on a nail especially appropriated to it.
“Yes, mother. I don’t want to be late for the store. Saturday is always
a busy day.”
“It is a long day for you, Harry. You have to stay till nine o’clock in
the evening.”
“I am always glad to have Saturday come, for then I can get my money,”
replied Harry, laughing. “Well, good-by, mother—I’m off.”
“What should I do without him?” said Mrs. Gilbert to herself, as Harry
dashed out of the yard on the way to Mead’s grocery store, where he had
been employed for six months.
That would have been a difficult question to answer. Mrs. Gilbert was
the widow of a sea captain, who had sailed from the port of Boston
three years before, and never since been heard of.
It was supposed that the vessel was lost with all hands, but how the
disaster occurred, or when, was a mystery that seemed never likely to
be solved.
Captain Gilbert had left no property except the small cottage, which
was mortgaged for half its value, and a small sum of money in the
savings bank, which, by this time, was all expended for the necessaries
of life.
Fortunately for the widow, about the time this sum gave out Harry
obtained a situation at Mead’s grocery store, with a salary of four
dollars a week. This he regularly paid to his mother, and, with the
little she herself was able to earn, they lived comfortably. It was
hard work for Harry, but he enjoyed it, for he was an active boy, and
it was a source of great satisfaction to him that he was able to help
his mother so materially.
He was now fifteen years old, about the average height for a boy of
that age, with a strong frame and a bright, cheerful manner that made
him a general favorite.
The part of his duty which he liked best was to drive the store wagon
for the delivery of goods to customers. Most boys of his age like to
drive a horse, and Harry was no exception to the rule.
When he reached the store Mr. Mead, his employer, said:
“Harness up the horse as soon as you can, Harry. There are some goods
to be carried out.”
“All right, sir,” answered Harry, cheerfully, and made his way to the
stable, which stood in the rear of the store. It was but a few minutes
before he was loaded up and was on his way.
He had called at several places and left the greater part of the goods,
when he found himself in a narrow road, scarcely wider than a lane. Why
it had been made so narrow was unaccountable, for there was certainly
land enough to be had, and that of little value, which could have been
used. It was probably owing to a want of foresight on the part of the
road commissioners.
Just at the narrowest part of the road Harry saw approaching him an
open buggy of rather a pretentious character, driven by a schoolmate,
Philip Ross, the son of Colonel Ross, a wealthy resident of the
village.
I have said that Philip was, or rather had been, a schoolmate of Harry.
I cannot call him a friend. Philip was of a haughty, arrogant temper.
The horse and buggy he drove were his own—that is, they had been given
him by his father on his last birthday—and he was proud of them, not
without some reason, for the buggy was a handsome one, and the horse
was spirited and of fine appearance.
As soon as Harry saw Philip approaching, he proceeded to turn his horse
to one side of the road.
Philip, however, made no such move, but kept in the middle.
“Isn’t he going to turn out?” thought Harry. “How does he expect to get
by?”
“Why don’t you turn out, Philip?” he called out.
“Turn out yourself!” retorted Philip, haughtily.
“That’s what I’m doing,” said Harry, rather provoked.
“Then turn out more!” said the young gentleman, arrogantly.
“I have turned out my share,” said Harry, stopping his horse. “Do you
expect to keep right on in the middle of the road?”
“I shall if I choose,” said Philip, unpleasantly; but he, too, reined
up his horse, so that the two teams stood facing each other.
Harry shrugged his shoulders, and asked, temperately:
“Then how do you expect to get by?”
“I want you to turn out as far as you can,” he said authoritatively.
Harry was provoked, and not without reason.
“I have turned out my share, and shan’t turn out another inch,” he
said, firmly. “You must be a fool to expect it.”
“Do you mean to call me a fool?” demanded Philip, his eyes flashing.
“You certainly act like one.”
“You’d better take care how you talk, you beggar!” exclaimed Philip,
furiously.
“I’m no more a beggar than you are, Philip Ross!”
“Well, you are nothing but a working boy, at any rate.”
“What if I am?” replied Harry. “I’ve got just as much right on this
road as you.”
“I’m a gentleman,” asserted Philip, angrily.
“Well, you don’t act like one; you’d better turn out pretty quick, for
I am in a hurry and can’t wait.”
“Then turn out more.”
“I shan’t do it,” said Harry, with spirit; “and no one but you would be
unreasonable enough to ask me to do it.”
“Then you’ll have to wait,” said Philip, settling himself back
provokingly in his seat, and eyeing Harry with a look of disdain.
“Come, don’t be obstinate, Philip,” urged Harry, impatiently. “I only
ask you to do your share of turning. We have equal rights here, even if
you were three times the gentleman you pretend to be.”
“You are insolent, Harry Gilbert. I don’t take orders from such as
you.”
“Then you won’t turn out?” asked Harry, gathering up his reins.
“Suppose I don’t?” retorted Philip, in a provoking tone.
“Then I shall drive on,” said Harry, resolutely.
“You wouldn’t dare to!”
“Wouldn’t I? You’ll see. I will count ten, and if at the end of that
time you don’t turn out, I will drive on, and make you take the
consequences.”
Philip glanced at him doubtfully. Would he really do what he said?
“Pooh! I don’t believe it!” he decided. “Anyway, I’m not going to give
way to a working boy. I won’t do it.”
I am not going to decide the question whether Harry did right or not. I
can only say that he claimed no more than his rights, and was not
without excuse for the course he adopted.
“One—two—three!” counted Harry, and so on until he had counted ten.
Then, gathering up his reins, he said: “I ask you, Philip, for the last
time, whether you will turn out?”
“I won’t till I get ready.”
“Go ’long, Dobbin!” was Harry’s sole reply. And his horse was put in
motion.
The natural result followed. The grocery wagon was strongly made, and
fitted for rough usage. The buggy was of light structure, built for
speed, and was no match for it. The two carriages locked wheels. That
of the wagon was unharmed, but the wheel of the buggy came off.
The horse darted forward. Philip was thrown out at the side, aiming an
ineffectual blow with his whip at Harry, as he found himself going, and
landed in a half stunned condition on the grass at the side.
Harry kept on until his wagon was clear of the wreck of the buggy, and
then halting it, jumped oft to find the extent of Philip’s injuries.
The latter’s horse, which had by a violent jerk freed himself from the
shafts, was galloping up the road.