A CRISIS.
Nothing more was said about the woodpile. Apparently Mr. Talbot
concluded that he was not likely to carry his point, and prudently
withdrew from the conflict. But his sense of defeat only made him the
more incensed against his rebellious step-son.
"I would give five dollars to see that boy thrashed," he said to
himself moodily, as from the window he watched Robert playing ball in
the street with his friend Sam Jones.
As Robert seemed to be enjoying himself, he could not resist the
temptation to interfere.
So he opened the window and called out, "Robert, I wish you would stop
playing ball in the street."
"Why?" asked his step-son.
"Because the ball might come this way and break one of the windows."
"There is no chance of it, Mr. Talbot. We are sending the ball up and
down the street."
"Still there is danger."
"I don't see it."
"Will you be guided by my wishes?" demanded Talbot querulously.
"I would if they were reasonable. I don't think they are."
"I am the best judge of that. I don't want you to play ball in front of
my house."
"Your house? How long has it been yours? It belongs to my mother."
"Your mother is my wife."
"I am sorry to say that you are right. But that doesn't make the house
yours."
"I have no wish to quibble. I represent your mother, and I have a right
to ask you to stop playing ball in front of the house."
"Even if the house were yours, you don't own the street. Go ahead, Sam!"
Mr. Talbot banged the door and went into the house.
"That is the most impudent cub I ever saw," he muttered. He was worsted
again, and he felt angry and provoked.
"What a sweet step-father you've got, Robert," said Sam.
"Isn't he? But don't call him my step-father. I want to forget that he
is connected with me in any way. He is constantly nagging me. I don't
think I can stand it much longer."
"How does your mother stand it?"
"Mother has a very sweet temper, and she has no will of her own."
"Unlike you," said Sam, smiling.
"Yes, I have a will of my own. I don't think a boy or man can succeed
who hasn't."
"You say you can't stand it. What will that lead to?"
"It may lead to my leaving the house, and going out into the world to
seek my fortune. Our house is a large one, but it isn't large enough to
contain Mr. Talbot and myself."
"I hope you won't have to go, Robert. I should miss you awfully."
"And I should miss you, Sam. But time will show."
Probably no persons could be more incompatible, or less likely to get
along together, than Robert and Mr. Talbot. The presence of one was
a constant irritation to the other. This could have but one issue.
One day, perhaps a week after the dispute about ball-playing, Robert
entered the gate on his way back from the village. Mr. Talbot was
standing on the lawn. He had scarcely entered the yard when a man
reeling under the influence of drink staggered by.
"That man has more than he can carry," observed Robert.
"Yes," answered Talbot with a smile. "Take care that you don't fall
into the same habit."
"Why do you caution me," asked Robert curtly. "Do you think there is
any need of it?"
"Yes, if all that I have heard is true."
"What have you heard?"
"That your father was an intemperate man."
Robert's eyes flashed with intense anger.
"It is a lie," he said. "Take it back."
"I have every reason to believe it is true, and I won't take it back."
This was too much for Robert, who was a boy of spirit, and had been
devotedly attached to his father.
"Take it back!" he repeated in a tone of menace.
"Do you think I would take it back at the order of a whipper-snapper
like you?" sneered his step-father.
Robert waited to hear no more. His affection and reverence for his
father were so strong that he felt outraged by the insult to his
memory. He made a sudden attack upon his step-father, so impetuous
that it dashed Mr. Talbot to the ground.
The man was very much frightened. His encounter with the dog showed
that he was a coward, and though he, a grown person, was attacked by a
boy, he seemed helpless and over-whelmed.
"Ah--what does this mean?" he gasped.
"It means that I won't allow you or any other man to insult my father's
memory," answered Robert fiercely.
"I will have you arrested," said Talbot venomously.
"Do as you please," returned Robert contemptuously.
He sprang to his feet, and without waiting for Mr. Talbot to rise,
entered the house and sought his mother, who had not witnessed the
fracas.
The time had been brief, but he had already made up his mind to do what
had been in his mind for some time. He would leave home and seek his
fortune in the great world. He felt that to stay at home any longer--to
live under the same roof as his step-father--would be absolutely
impossible. He was not afraid to depend upon his own exertions. He was
young, well-educated, strong, and had confidence in his own ability to
earn a living. He would be sorry to leave his mother of course, but his
mother didn't seem to belong to him now that she was the wife of a man
whom he despised.
Leaving James Talbot to pick himself up at his leisure, he sought his
mother, who was in the sitting room, engaged in sewing. She noticed
the flush upon Robert's face, and his excited air, and asked at once,
"What's the matter, Robert? You look disturbed."
"I am disturbed, mother."
"What is it? Tell me about it."
"I got into a dispute with Mr. Talbot."
"I wish you could be friendly with him."
"It is impossible, mother. He is always irritating me. This time he
insulted my father's memory."
"How did he do that?"
"He said father was a man of intemperate habits."
"Surely he did not mean it," said his mother, looking troubled.
"I don't know whether he meant it or not. I only know that he said it.
And now, mother, you mustn't take too hard what I am going to say to
you."
"What is it?" inquired Mrs. Talbot nervously.
"I have made up my mind to leave home."
"Surely you would not do that," said his mother startled.
"Yes, it is the best way. I can't live under the same roof as Mr.
Talbot. Besides I am now sixteen. It is time I was earning my own
living."
"But that is not necessary, Robert. I have enough for you."
"I know it, but I can't live on you all my life. I want to go out into
the world, and see what I can do for myself."
"Take time to think it over, Robert. You are not through school."
"I shall be very soon. I have a good education already, and I can get
along."
"What do you want to do?"
"I don't know yet. Something will open up for me."
"Wait till next week," pleaded his mother.
"No, I must go this very day. I have had a fight with Mr. Talbot, and I
can't stay in the house any longer."
"Oh, Robert, you will make me very unhappy."
"I am sorry for that, mother, but I don't see how I can help it. Look
on the bright side. I think things will turn out well for me."
"If you must go, you must let me give you some money," and Mrs. Talbot,
rising, went to her secretary.
"No, mother; I have twenty dollars laid by. That will do for the
present. When that is gone I will write you for some more."
"Will you promise to do it, Robert?"
"Yes, mother?"
"Where do you think of going?"
"To Chicago, first."
"But you don't know anyone there, and I am told there are a great many
bad men there who might lead you into temptation."
"I hope I am strong enough to resist them. But I must go upstairs and
get ready."
Robert went up to his chamber and drew out from a closet a large
grip-sack. Into this he put hurriedly a supply of shirts, socks,
handkerchiefs, and underclothing.
"I came near forgetting a comb and brush," he said to himself,
unlocking the grip-sack after it was closed. "I am not used to
traveling, but I suppose I shall be in time."
Meanwhile, Mr. Talbot after taking time to recover his equanimity,
sought his wife.
"Mrs. T.," he said, "your promising son is getting worse and worse."
"Explain yourself," she said coldly.
"He sprang upon me with the ferocity of a tiger, after I had made an
inoffensive remark, and taking me unawares, actually threw me down. I
can't endure his presence."
"You won't be obliged to. He has decided to leave home."
"Where will he go?"
"He is going out into the world to seek his fortune," she answered
sadly.
"He will fetch up in jail," said his step-father savagely.
"I think, Mr. Talbot, we will drop the subject. I do not feel equal
to discussing it when my dear and only child is about to leave home,
driven from it by you."
She rose and left the room.
"Well, I'm glad he's going," thought Talbot. "I can the better carry
out my plans."