"And your father's name Carter?"
"Yes, sir," said I.
Then he showed the ring to me and asked if I had seen it before.
I at once recognized the ring as my mother's. Since I could remember she
had worn it, until recently. Of late she had grown so much thinner that the
ring would no longer stay on her finger, and she was accustomed, therefore,
to keep the circlet in a small drawer of her dresser, secure in an old
purse with some heirlooms of coins; and I was greatly surprised that it
should be in the possession of this stranger. I told him that it was my
mother's ring, and asked him how he came by it.
"Your father put it up in a little game the other day," said he, "and it
fell into my possession." He dropped the ring into his purse, which he then
closed with a snap. "I have been trying for several days to see your father
and give him a chance at the ring before I turned it in to the
pawnbroker's. If your mother has any feeling in the matter, tell her she
can get the ring for ten dollars," he added as he turned away.
I did not know what to do. I was so ashamed and hurt to think that my
father, whom I loved and in whom I had such implicit confidence, should
have gambled away my mother's ring, the very ring--I was old enough to
appreciate--he had given her in pledging to her his love. My eyes filled
with tears, and as I stood, hesitating, Mr. Blodget came forward,
admonishing me not to forget my parcels. He evidently observed my tears,
although I turned my face the other way, for shame of crying. At any rate,
he put his hand on my shoulder and said very kindly:--
"It's pretty tough, Carter, my boy, isn't it?"
He referred, I thought, to my father, for father was uppermost in my
thoughts. Then, lowering his voice, he said:--
"But I will help you out, son, I will help you out."
I forgot all about hiding my tears, and faced about, attracted by his
kindness.
"I will redeem the ring, and keep it for you until you can get the money.
What do you say? You can rest easy then, knowing that it is safe, and you
can take your time. What do you say?"
With some awkwardness I acquiesced to his plan. Then he called the
stranger, and, leading the way back to his desk, paid to him the ten
dollars, requiring him to sign a paper, though I did not understand why. He
then placed the ring carefully in his safe.
"There, Carter," said he, rubbing his hands together, "it is safe now, and
we need not worry."
I held out my hand to him, then without a word took my parcels and started
on a run for home.
That evening father was more restless than usual. He repeatedly lamented
his long-enforced idleness. After retiring that night, I lay awake for a
long time evolving in my mind plans whereby I might earn ten dollars to
redeem the ring. Finally, with my boyish heart full of hope and adventure,
I fell asleep in the wee hours of morning.
After breakfast I took my books, as usual, but, instead of going to school,
I turned my steps toward a box factory where I knew a boy of about my own
age to be working. I confided to him as much of my story as I thought
advisable, and he took me to the superintendent's office and introduced me.
I was put to work, at five dollars a week, with the privilege of stopping
at four each day. Every afternoon I brought my school-books home and
studied as usual till bed-time, and took them with me again in the morning.
During the two weeks I was employed at the factory neither father nor
mother suspected that I had not been to school each day. In fact, I studied
so assiduously at night that I kept up with my classes. But my mother
observed that I grew pale and thin.
At the end of two weeks, when I told the manager I wanted to stop work, he
seemed somewhat disappointed. He paid me two crisp five-dollar notes, and I
went very proudly to Mr. Blodget with the first ten dollars I had ever
earned, and received that gentleman's hearty praise, and my mother's ring.
That evening father was out as usual, and I gave the ring to mother,
telling her all about it, and what I had done. She kissed me, and, holding
me close in her arms for a long time, cried, caressing my hair with her
hand, and told me that I was her dear, good boy. Then we had a long talk
about father, and agreed to lay nothing to him, at present, about the ring.
The next evening, when I returned from school, father met me at the hall
door, and asked if I had been to school. I saw that he had been drinking,
and was not in a very amiable mood.
"I met Clarence Stevenson just now," he said, "and he inquired about you.
He thought you were sick, and said you had not been to school for two
weeks, unless you had gone today." I stood for a moment without answering.
"What do you say to that?" he demanded.
"Clarence told the truth, father," I replied.
"He did, eh? What do you mean by running away from school in this manner?"
He grew very angry, catching me by the shoulder, gave me such a jerk that
my books, which I had under my arm, went flying in all directions. "Why
have you not been to school?" he said thickly.
"I was working, but I did not intend to deceive you father."
"Working! Working! Where have you been working?"
"At Mr. Hazleton's box factory."
"At a _what_ factory?"
"_Box_ factory."
"How much did you earn?" he growled, watching me closely to see if I told
the truth.
"Five dollars a week," I said timidly, feeling all the time that he was
exacting from me a confession that I wished, on his account, to keep
secret.
"Five dollars a week! Where is the money? Show me the money!" he persisted
incredulously.
"I cannot, father. I do not have it."