A HOME IN IRONBORO'.
Dick could only dimly remember one railway journey before and he curled
up in the corner of the carriage with a sense of luxurious ease and
held Pat close, rejoicing in his rescue. An old woman sat on the same
seat, dressed in a black gown and lilac print apron, with a curtain
bonnet of the same print on her head. She held tightly the handle of a
huge marketing basket that seemed full to overflowing, while on the top
a bunch of late chrysanthemums made a spot of gay colour.
Opposite, a tired-looking mother sat with two fractious children, going
home from the fair. They were very naughty at first, but the sight of
Pat's black head arrested their crying, and Dick and his dog kept them
amused till they got out at the next station. "A pity to bring
children up like that," said the country-woman, confidentially.
"Sweets enough to make 'em bad for a week, to say nothing of the
giddy-go-rounds and ginger-bread. Ah, well, 'twasn't like it in my
young days. Not that I'm against a good wholesome cake or two,
especially for young folks. I'll give _you_ one if you'll read this
letter to me?" she added, looking inquiringly at Dick. "You see, I'm
going to see my son at Manchester, and they've sent to tell me all
about the changing at Crow Junction, and I can't read writing very
well."
Dick had been enjoying the sight of fields and hedges rushing past and
trying to count the telegraph wires, but he turned at once and said,
"I'll read it with pleasure, if I can. And I'm getting out at Crow
Junction, and I can help you change, if I can find out what it means."
"It's getting out of one train into another, and you might carry my
basket, maybe. You see, I've got a band-box, and my umbrella and
pattens besides. I had to bring them, not knowing how the roads might
be up there, and with damp feet I get rheumaticy directly."
Dick managed to get through the ill-spelled letter, and learned its
instructions by heart, and then was rewarded with a home-made flakey
cake, out of the big basket, that was better than all the fairings they
had left behind.
It was splendid to feel that the swift engine was bearing him on
towards his destination so easily, and that every mile made one less to
be tramped on foot.
Both Pat and his master would have been willing to travel on all night
by rail, but the forty miles were soon passed, and they got out at the
busy junction.
The old woman was helped in her changing, and then Dick earned twopence
by carrying a heavy portmanteau for another passenger. And then the
two pilgrims took to the road again.
The days that followed were very much alike, and in after years Dick
remembered little about this part of the journey.
Sometimes he earned enough to buy a meal or pay for a humble night's
lodging, but they would often have been very hungry but for Paddy's
half-crown. This was spent carefully, a penny at a time, and chiefly
for dry bread.
The last sixpence had been changed when a sign-post with the words
"Ironboro' two miles" was passed. Dick took off his cap and looked up
to the wintry sky with joy and gratitude, and there and then thanked
God.
No Lionheart crusader could have felt more fervent gladness at the
first sight of the Holy City!
Bub Dick's goal did not look very promising, as he drew near. A pall
of smoke hung low over the narrow streets, tall chimneys sent black
clouds into the biting air, and there was the clang and whirl of
machinery, and the throb of huge hammers going on all the time.
He was entering the town by the least inviting road. On one side were
rows of miserable houses with broken windows and grimy walls and doors,
that looked as if all their brightness had gone into the smart
public-houses on each corner.
On the other side stretched a piece of waste land, where iron clinkers
and slag lay in great heaps, and rubbish of all kinds was deposited.
Not a blade of grass or tree could be seen, and the children playing
and quarrelling together were as dingy as the dirt they played with.
Two big lads were standing by the edge of a dark pool, not far from the
roadside, laughing at something that wriggled in their hands.
Suddenly a little girl darted across and snatched at this, crying,
"It's my kitty! It's mine, I tell you. Give her to me, she's mine!"
But the cruel tormenter only held the kitten higher, and showed the
string and the stone his companion was tying to her neck.
The little girl screamed aloud, and flung herself upon him in a vain
attempt to reach the kitten, which was mewing pitifully. In her
excitement she was in great danger of falling into the black water.
"Now then, one, two, three, and----" Before he could finish and throw
the captive in, Dick had sprung to the rescue.
"For shame! How can you be such a coward?" he cried, seizing the
outstretched arm of the bully so fiercely that he released his hold.
"And who are you, I should like to know? Take that for interfering!"
And he flung out his clenched fist for a terrific blow.
[Illustration: "'TAKE THAT FOR INTERFERING!'"]
But Lionheart was too quick for him, darting aside he dodged the blow
and at the same moment snatched the kitten and pushed her into the
child's outstretched arms. The other coward had drawn back at Pat's
threatening growl. The dog looked fierce enough for anything, and when
he saw the blow aimed at his master he seized the bully by the leg and
held him fast.
What might have happened next cannot be told, for at that moment the
little girl raised a joyous shout. "Daddy, oh, daddy, come quick!
Here, daddy!"
At her eager cry a man hurrying down the road stopped and then ran to
the pool.
"Nellie, where have you been, and what's all this?"
"It's my kitty, daddy, they were going to drown her, and this boy and
his doggie saved her life."
And with tears and smiles together the child clung to her father and
hugged the almost suffocated kitten in her pinafore.
"Jem Whatman, at your cowardly pranks again! How dare you touch the
kitten?"
At this moment, as if conscious that able reinforcements had come, Pat
let go the mouthful of cloth, and without stopping to reply Jem darted
away after his companion, muttering threats as he went.
"You are a brave boy to tackle two bullies at once in that fashion,"
said the father kindly as he swung the little girl up in his strong
arms. "And there's breeding about that terrier of yours, and no
mistake!"
Pat was still breathing quickly and wagging his tail excitedly, as if
expecting another battle. "You are a stranger to me, and yet I seem to
know your face. What is your name?"
Dick almost answered "Lionheart," but stopped just in time. "Richard
Hart Crosby."
"Of course! And you're his living image; but he had neither wife nor
child."
"Do you mean my uncle, sir. Do you know him."
"Know Dick Crosby? Almost as well as I know Nellie here. And I've
heard him speak of his brother many times."
"Then, sir, if you know him, won't you tell me where he lives, that I
may go to him at once? I only heard about him just lately, and I've
come all the way from Venley to find him."
"I'll tell you all I can, but you can't go to him to-day, for he went
off to Klondyke more than a year ago, and I've only heard from him once
since he went."
Poor Dick! The disappointment following so quickly on success was
almost too much. A big lump came in his throat and tears blurred his
sight, so that he could scarcely see the ugly rubbish heap and the
cinders that lay around.
But he had made resolve that he would not cry, whatever happened, and
so he resolutely ordered tears away and again faced his new friend.
"How did you get here, laddie?"
"Walked from Venley--all but forty miles I came by train."
"Well, then, you must walk a bit further and come home with me. Dick
Crosby was my good friend, and you have saved the kitten and maybe
Nellie herself from ill-usage. It's dinner time, so you are just
right. Run, Nellie, there is mother watching at the door."
They were walking now in a wider thoroughfare with better houses on
either side. At the door of one a motherly woman stood looking out
anxiously, and to her Nellie ran with a joyous shout. "Oh, mother,
I've got kitty, and daddy's got a boy out there with such a nice dog,
only kitty doesn't like him. She makes her tail like a sweeping brush."
"But where have you been, Nellie? We lost you, and father had to come
after you."
"It's all right now, wife. I found her--or rather this little man
found her, and helped her too, so I've brought him home to dinner."
And in a few words he told the tale, while Pat sent Nellie into shrieks
of delight by standing up and begging in his best manner. Doubtless he
smelled the savoury Irish stew that was just ready.
And Mrs. Dainton hurried them all in to enjoy it.