BOB DETERMINES TO BE HIS OWN MASTER
Fearing that if he hurried too fast through the dismal corridors of the
court building he might arouse suspicion and get into more trouble, Bob
restrained his impulse to break into a run, and endeavored to walk as
unconcernedly as possible. But it was with a feeling of vast relief that
he stepped forth from the stone portal and again breathed the free air
of the street.
Once he had reached the sidewalk, not long did it take him to mingle
with the throng of passersby.
Like a bad dream did the trying experiences through which he had passed
seem, and he actually pinched himself to see if, after all, it might not
have been some sleep delusion. But the pain of the sharp nip he gave
himself satisfied him that he was indeed awake, and further evidence of
the fact that his experiences had been all too real was given by the
presence of the five-dollar bill in his pocket.
His pace had been rapid, and he was within two blocks of his guardian's
store, when he suddenly remembered that the basket full of groceries,
which he had started out to deliver, had been left in the police
station.
That his employer would berate him sharply for their loss, he was aware,
yet he dared not go for them in the fear that he might be subjected to
further unpleasantness.
His steps, however, grew slower and slower as he approached the store,
which had been the only home he had known for years. That his guardian
knew of his arrest, the words of his champion to the magistrate had told
him. How his guardian would take the double blow of the loss of the
groceries and his arrest, he did not know, but past experience told him
that he could expect no sympathy, and perhaps a beating, and he was
sorely tempted not to return at all, but to strike out for the great
West of his hopes and ambitions. In this moment of indecision, however,
the admonition of the magistrate to return to his guardian recurred to
him, and he felt that he would not be entitled to keep the five dollars
did he not obey.
To Bob's surprise, as he entered the store, not a soul was visible, but
at the sound of his footsteps on the hard floor his guardian suddenly
appeared from his private office, his shrewd face suffused by the
ingratiating smirk he always put on when going to meet a prospective
customer. At the sight of his ward standing in the middle of the floor,
however, he started, and then his face assumed a look of forbidding
severity.
"What, you here!" the grocer exclaimed, as he regained control of
himself. "I thought--that is, I was told--I mean, I heard that you had
been arrested, and I didn't expect to see you again for some time; that
is--I mean not here in the store. If you had been sent to prison I
should, of course, have gone to see you."
Never before had Bob seen his guardian so ill at ease, and from his
knowledge of the man, he decided that his entrance must have interrupted
him when he was engaged at some unusual task. But how to meet the
situation, Bob did not know, and he was vainly striving to think of the
right thing to say when their relations were brought back to their
normal plane by his guardian snarling:
"What did you do with my delivery basket? Did you leave it with the
groceries, or didn't you even deliver them?"
The subtle cruelty of this remark stung Bob to the quick. It was the
straw that broke his endurance of the long term of abuse and harsh words
to which he had been subjected.
"No, I didn't deliver the groceries," he flashed back. "I had to leave
the basket at the police station when they took me to court, and after
the judge told me I could go, I didn't want to go back to the place for
it."
"But there were three dollars worth of groceries in it," wailed his
guardian, wringing his hands. "Here, just because you didn't mind what I
told you about stopping to play on the way when you are delivering
orders, you get arrested and leave me here alone for almost four hours,
without any one to deliver goods, and my customers all complaining
because they don't get their orders. And as though that weren't enough,
you deliberately abandon three dollars' worth of groceries. But you'll
pay for them, young man! You'll pay for them! Never fear. I shall take
the two dollars you would have had coming to you to-night in part
payment, and then one dollar from your wages next Saturday night."
For an instant, Bob was tempted to produce the five dollars the kindly
magistrate had given him and pay for the groceries then and there. But
there swept through his mind an idea fascinating in its boldness.
As he stood contemplating the thought which had occurred to him, his
guardian snarled:
"Don't stand there like a gawk! You've delayed my deliveries long
enough. Take those two baskets," and he pointed to two bulging packages
resting on the counter, "and deliver them. On your way back, as you
will pass the police station, you can stop in and get the basket you
left. But I'll make you pay for the groceries just the same. It will be
a good lesson for you."
If anything were needed to determine Bob to put his idea into action, it
was this command to go to the station, and he exclaimed:
"I won't go there to get your old basket! I won't pay for the groceries,
and I won't deliver your old orders! I am going to leave you. I won't
work for you another minute," and without giving his amazed guardian
time to say anything, Bob darted away to the room at the back of the
store, in which he had been accustomed to sleep.
The plan he had decided upon was to get his ten dollars and enough more
of the money his father had left him to pay his fare to some town in
Oklahoma, where he could begin his long-dreamed-of life on a ranch. He
would not be bothered with the packing of any clothes, for his guardian
had never allowed him any extra clothing, and he had nothing but the
suit upon his back; but he did have his money, and two letters which he
had hidden under a board in the floor that he had fixed so that he could
take it up and put it back whenever he wished.
In the fear that his guardian might follow him to the room and discover
him as he was procuring his money, Bob worked with feverish haste to
lift the board, and so excited was he that it seemed as though he could
never raise it. But at last he did so, secured possession of his
treasures, and then put the board back, just as the grocer called to him
from the doorway:
"What are you doing? What do you mean by saying you won't deliver my
groceries and do what I tell you?"
Panting with excitement, Bob stood like some animal at bay, his eyes
flashing defiance, one hand tightly doubled up, the other clasping his
treasures in the pocket where he had thrust them.
"I mean I am going West. I won't be treated as you have treated me any
longer."
For a moment, as he heard the amazing announcement of his ward, Mr.
Dardus stood staring at him in silence, and then broke into a mocking
laugh.
"So you're going West, are you? That is a good one. Why, you couldn't
even get across the river to Jersey City. It takes money, money, my boy,
to travel, and you haven't a cent. And yet you're going West! That _is_
a good one. Do you think the trains will carry you for nothing, just for
the pleasure of having you travel on them?" and the grocer indulged
himself in another burst of laughter at what he considered his keen
wit.
But the next words of his ward soon drove all mirth from his soul.
"I expect you to give me enough money to carry me to Oklahoma City from
what my father left me. When I get settled out there, I will let you
know, and you can send me the rest of the money which was entrusted to
you for me. If I took it with me, I might get robbed."
When the merciless old man recovered his breath, he exclaimed:
"What do you mean about the money your father left for you? Don't you
know he didn't have a cent? Don't you know that if I hadn't taken pity
on you, fool that I was--but your father did me a favor once, and so I
thought I could repay it by taking you--that you would have been sent to
an orphan asylum? And this is the return I get. Here I've spent my
hard-earned money for twelve years to buy you food and clothing, and yet
you dare to say that I have money for you which your father left. I
never heard of such ingratitude."
"I know that you are not telling the truth," retorted Bob. "I have a
letter my father wrote, saying that I was to open it when I was ten
years old, in which he said that he had given you five thousand dollars
to have me educated."
"What nonsense! What an outrage!" exclaimed the grocer, though Bob's
statement had caused his face to become more than usually ashen-hued.
"I've a mind to thrash you for saying such a thing. Me have five
thousand dollars of yours! I never heard anything so preposterous!"
"I tell you, you have the money. Here's the letter that says so,"
retorted Bob. And, as he spoke, he drew his hand from his pocket,
disclosing to the uneasy gaze of his guardian an envelope yellow with
age, worn and soiled from much handling, but upon which was the writing
which he recognized, all too well, as that of Horace Chester, Bob's
father.
For an instant the grocer glowered at the boy and the letter, and then
his shrewd mind, suggesting a way out of the embarrassing predicament in
which the boy had placed him, he exclaimed:
"Poor Horace! I had always hoped to keep from you the fact that he was
insane at the time of his death, but this letter makes it impossible. It
was while laboring under the delusion that he had money, that he wrote
you of this phantom bequest. Poor Horace! The sight of his writing moves
me deeply, especially as I have to disabuse you of the delusion that I
am holding five thousand dollars in trust for you," and he held out his
hand.
Had it not been for the look of cunning that appeared in his guardian's
eyes as he uttered these words, which cast such a stigma upon the name
of the boy's dead father, Bob might have believed him, but he had been
watching his guardian intently. He saw the look of cunning, and instead
of surrendering the letter, he hastily thrust it back into his pocket.
Forgetting all discretion, as he saw that his plot for obtaining
possession of the letter had failed, Len Dardus rushed upon the boy,
with the evident purpose of obtaining it by force, exclaiming:
"You won't give it to me, eh? Well, I will take it, whether you want me
to or not."
But Bob, in the flush of his youth, was quick and agile, and it was no
task at all for him to dive under the arm stretched forth to seize him,
and then to dash through the door and out onto the street.