HOW GOOD SPRANG FROM EVIL
"Masterson, did you say, Bristles?" Fred asked, hurriedly, as he closed
the communicating door between the two rooms, and came back to the side
of his chum.
"Yep, that's it," replied the other, briskly, proud of having solved
what promised to be a puzzle. "He used to live in Riverport years ago,
when I was a kid; he and his girl Sarah."
"Is he any relation to Squire Lemington, do you know?" asked Fred.
"Sure, that's a fact, he is; a nephew, I reckon," answered Bristles,
thoughtfully. "I remember there was some sort of talk about this Arnold
Masterson; I kind of think he got in a fuss with the Squire, and there
was a lawsuit. But shucks, that don't matter to us, Fred, not a whit.
These people are up against it, hard as nails, and we've just _got_ to
do something for 'em when we get back."
"That's right, we will," asserted Fred.
He was thinking hard as he said this. Was it not a strange thing that
he should in this way place another Masterson under heavy obligations?
He had done Hiram a good turn that won the gratitude of the man from
Alaska; and now here it was a brother and a niece who had cause for
thanking him.
Perhaps there was something more than accident in this. If Hiram ever
did return, which Fred was almost ready to doubt, he would be apt to
hear about what had happened at the lonely farmhouse; and if he cared at
all for his folks, his debt must be doubled by the kind deed of the
Fenton boy.
"And believe me," Bristles went on, not noticing the way Fred was
pondering over the intelligence he had just communicated; "we just can't
get busy collecting some grub for this poor family any too soon. Why,
they're cleaned out, that's what! Never knew anybody could live from
hand to mouth like this. Why couldn't they get that German farmer, who
lives a mile or two away, to haul some stuff from Grafton, if the girl
couldn't walk there?"
"You forget that the man said he didn't have even a dollar, when those
tramps threatened to torture him, to make him tell where he had his
treasure; and Bristles, it takes cold cash to buy things these days. Old
Dog Trust is dead, the merchants say. But hurry that coffee along.
Hello! here's a part of a can of condensed milk, and some sugar. That's
good!"
Fred went into the other room about that time; for hearing voices, he
imagined the girl must have put on some dry clothes hurriedly, and once
more descended to be with her sick father.
She looked better, Fred thought, and there was even a slight color in
her cheeks. He was afraid, however, of what the long exposure might
bring, and determined that Doctor Temple must hear of the case. A little
care right then might be the means of warding off a severe illness.
"Please go in the kitchen, and stand near the stove all you can, miss,"
he said.
"But I am not cold any longer," she replied, giving him a smile that
told of the gratitude in her heart.
"You need all the warmth you can get," he insisted. "As soon as the
coffee is ready, you must swallow a cup or two of it, piping hot. And I
think it would do your father good, too."
Accordingly, as there seemed to be a vein of authority in his voice, the
girl complied. She found that the coffee was already beginning to
simmer, and send out a fragrant smell; for Bristles had made a furious
fire, regardless of consequences.
"Hope I don't burn your house down, Sarah," he said. "Excuse me, but I
used to know you a long time ago, when you lived in Riverport. My name
is Bris--that is, at home they call me Andy Carpenter."
"Oh! I do remember you now," she replied, quickly; "but it is so long
ago. Father never mentions Riverport any more; he seems to hate the
name. I think some one wronged him there, and it must have been my
uncle, because every time I happened to speak of him, he would grow
angry, and finally told me never to mention that name again. But you
have made this coffee very strong, Andy."
"Fred told me to; he said you both needed it," answered the boy. "And I
wouldn't worry if I was you, because I used up all there is. We're going
to see that more comes along this way, and that before night."
"Oh! it makes me feel ashamed to think that we are going to be objects
of charity," the girl commenced to say, when Bristles stopped her.
"Now, that isn't it at all, Sarah!" he declared, with vehemence; "your
pa is a sick man, and unless he gets a doctor soon you may lose him. So
I'd just pocket that pride of yours, and let the neighbors do what they
want. And if you've been fleeced by that shark of a Squire Lemington,
why, there are a lot of others in the same fix. I'd like to see them run
him out of town; but he owns a heap of property around Riverport, and
that would be hard to do, I suppose. Say, don't that coffee smell good
though; you know the kind to get, seems like."
"Johann Swain brought that over the last time he came," she replied,
somewhat confused on account of having to make the confession that they
were already indebted to another for favors.
When the coffee was done Fred came out and secured a cup of it for the
sick man; while Sarah sat down at the kitchen table to drink her
portion. Bristles was almost famishing for a taste, but he would not
have accepted the first drop, had it smelled twice as good.
After making the two as comfortable as possible, the two boys once more
prepared to start on their run toward home. Of course they must expect
to come in the very last of all, owing to all these delays; but it was
little they cared.
"Expect company before long," sang out Bristles, as, having shaken hands
with the sick man and Sarah, they turned to wave farewell to the girl,
standing in the open door, and with something approaching a smile on her
wan face.
Fred made a proposition before they had gone more than fifty yards.
"What's the use of our finishing, Bristles?" he remarked. "We're
hopelessly beaten right now. Suppose we head for home, and get busy
going around to speak to a few of our friends about these people here.
I want Doc. Temple to come out; and I know Flo will insist on it when
she hears about that poor girl."
"Three to one she comes with him; and that the buggy is crammed full of
all the good things they've got at home," asserted Bristles; "because
there never was a girl with a bigger heart than Flo."
Fred was of the same opinion himself, though he only nodded, and smiled.
"You see your father, and then drop in to talk it over with several
others," he went on to say. "Leave Judge Colon for me. I want to ask him
a few questions about what happened between Arnold Masterson and his
rich uncle, to make Sarah's father hate him so, and avoid Riverport in
the bargain."
When they arrived home the boys quickly changed their clothes, and then
started in to tell the story of their recent remarkable experience.
Fred, first of all, enlisted the good will of his own mother, who
hurried over to another neighbor to start the ball rolling, with the
idea of having a wagon with supplies sent out to the Masterson farm that
very afternoon.
His visit to the Temple home was a pleasant affair with Fred. Just as he
had expected, Flo was immediately concerned about the family, and asked
numerous questions while they were waiting for the genial old doctor to
come in at noon from his morning round of sick calls.
Then the doctor drove up, and as soon as he entered the house heard
Fred's amazing story. He was quite concerned about it.
"Of course I'll go out there the first thing after lunch, and bring them
both through, if I can," he declared, just as Fred had expected would be
the case. "Those tramps ought to be followed up, and caged; they're
getting bolder every day. I expect that some fine morning we'll find our
bank broken open, or else somebody kidnapped, and held for a ransom."
"And I'm going along with you, daddy," said Miss Temple, with an air
that announced the fact that she usually had her own way with her
parent.
"Did you know this Arnold Masterson, sir; and is he a nephew of the
Squire?" asked the boy.
"Yes, to both of your questions, Fred," replied the doctor. "Years back
there was a quarrel between them, and a lawsuit that went against
Arnold, who disappeared soon afterward. I did not know he still lived
within five miles of Riverport, because he is never seen on the streets
here. But he was an honest man, which is more than some people think can
be said of his rich uncle."
That was all Fred wanted to know, and he took his departure, well
satisfied with the way fortune had treated him that morning.
Later on he heard that the people of Riverport had carried enough
supplies out to the Masterson farm to last until Christmas. And Doctor
Temple reported that not only would Sarah escape any ill results from
her experience in the cold waters of the well, but the sick man was
going to come around, in time, all right.