[Illustration:
AUNT HANNAH
AND SETH
A STORY OF SOME
PEOPLE AND
A DOG. BY
JAMES
OTIS]
[Illustration: “‘HI, LIMPY!’ A SHRILL VOICE CRIED.”]
[Illustration:
_Aunt Hannah
And Seth
By
James Otis
Author of
“How Tommy Saved the Barn” etc.
New York
Thomas Y. Crowell & Co.
Publishers_]
Copyright, 1900, by
THOMAS Y. CROWELL & CO.
CONTENTS.
CHAPTER PAGE
I.—AN ADVERTISEMENT, 1
II.—THE COUNTRY, 20
III.—AUNT HANNAH, 39
IV.—THE FLIGHT, 58
V.—AN ACCIDENT, 76
VI.—SUNSHINE, 95
AUNT HANNAH.
CHAPTER I.
AN ADVERTISEMENT.
A SMALL boy with a tiny white dog in his arms stood near the New York
approach to the Brooklyn Bridge on a certain June morning not many
years since, gazing doubtfully at the living tide which flowed past
him, as if questioning whether it might be safe to venture across the
street.
Seth Barrows, otherwise known by his acquaintances as Limpy Seth,
because of what they were pleased to speak of as “a pair of legs that
weren’t mates,” was by no means dismayed by the bustle and apparent
confusion everywhere around him. Such scenes were familiar, he having
lived in the city, so far as he knew, from the day of his birth; but,
owing to his slight lameness, it was not always a simple matter for
him to cross the crowded streets.
“Hi, Limpy!” a shrill voice cried from amid the pedestrians in the
distance, and as Seth looked quickly toward the direction from which
had come the hail, he noted that a boy with hair of such a vivid hue
of red as would attract particular attention from any person within
whose range of vision he might come, was frantically trying to force a
passage.
Seth stepped back to a partially sheltered position beneath the
stairway of the overhead bridge, and awaited the coming of his friend.
“Out swellin’, are you?” the boy with the red hair asked, as he
finally approached, panting so heavily that it was with difficulty he
could speak. “Goin’ to give up business?”
“I got rid of my stock quite a while ago, an’ counted on givin’ Snip a
chance to run in the park. The poor little duffer don’t have much fun
down at Mother Hyde’s while I’m workin’.”
“You might sell him for a pile of money, Limpy, an’ he’s a heap of
bother for you,” the new-comer said reflectively, as he stroked the
dog’s long, silken hair. “Teddy Dixon says he’s got good blood in
him——”
“Look here, Tim, do you think I’d sell Snip, no matter how much money
I might get for him? Why, he’s the only relation I’ve got in all this
world!” and the boy buried his face in the dog’s white hair.
“It costs more to keep him than you put out for yourself.”
“What of that? He thinks a heap of me, Snip does, an’ he’d be as sorry
as I would if anything happened to one of us.”
“Yes, I reckon you are kind’er stuck on him! It’s a pity, Limpy,
’cause you can’t hustle same’s the rest of us do, an’ so don’t earn as
much money.”
“Snip has what milk he needs——”
“An’ half the time you feed him by goin’ hungry yourself.”
“What of that?” Seth cried sharply. “Don’t I tell you we two are the
only friends each other’s got! I’d a good deal rather get along
without things than let him go hungry, ’cause he wouldn’t know why I
couldn’t feed him.”
“A dog is only a dog, an’ that’s all you can make out of it. I ain’t
countin’ but that Snip is better’n the general run, ’cause, as Teddy
Dixon says, he’s blooded; but just the same it don’t stand to reason
you should treat him like he was as good as you.”
“He’s a heap better’n I am, Tim Chandler! Snip never did a mean thing
in his life, an’ he’s the same as a whole family to me.”
As if understanding that he was the subject of the conversation, the
dog pressed his cold nose against the boy’s neck, and the latter cried
triumphantly:
“There, look at that! If you didn’t have any folks, Tim Chandler, an’
couldn’t get ’round same as other fellers do, don’t you reckon his
snugglin’ up like this would make you love him?”
“He ain’t really yours,” Tim said after a brief pause, whereat the
lame boy cried fiercely:
“What’s the reason he ain’t? Didn’t I find him ’most froze to death
more’n a year ago, an’ haven’t I kept him in good shape ever since? Of
course he wasn’t mine at first; but I’d like to see the chump who’d
dare to say he belonged to anybody else! If you didn’t own any more of
a home than you could earn sellin’ papers, an’ if nobody cared the
least little bit whether you was cold or hungry, you’d think it was
mighty fine to have a chum like Snip. You ought’er see him when I come
in after he’s been shut up in the room all the forenoon! It seems like
he’d jump out of his skin, he’s so glad to see me! I tell you, Tim,
Snip loves me just like I was his mother!”
Master Chandler shook his head doubtfully, and appeared to be on the
point of indulging some disparaging remark, when his attention was
diverted by a lad on the opposite side of the street, who was making
the most frantic gestures, and, as might be guessed by the movement of
his lips, shouting at the full strength of his lungs; but the words
were drowned by the rattle of vehicles and other noises of the street.
“There’s Pip Smith, an’ what do you s’pose he’s got in his ear now?”
Tim said speculatively; but with little apparent interest in the
subject. “He’s allers botherin’ his head ’bout somethin’ that ain’t
any of his business. He allows he’ll be a detective when he gets big
enough.”
Seth gave more attention to the caresses Snip was bestowing upon him
than to his acquaintance opposite, until Tim exclaimed, with a sudden
show of excitement:
“He’s yellin’ for you, Seth! What’s he swingin’ that newspaper ’round
his head for?”
Perhaps Tim might have become interested enough to venture across the
street, had Master Smith remained on the opposite side very long; but
just at that moment the tide of travel slackened sufficiently to admit
of a passage, and the excited Pip came toward his acquaintances at
full speed.
“What kind of a game have you been up to, Limpy?” he demanded, waving
the newspaper meanwhile.
Seth looked at the speaker in astonishment, but without making any
reply.
“Anything gone wrong?” Tim asked, gazing inquiringly from one to the
other.
“I don’t know what he means,” Seth replied, and Pip shouted wildly:
“Listen to him! You’d think butter wouldn’t melt in his mouth, an’ yet
he’s been ridin’ a mighty high hoss, ’cordin’ to all I can find out!”
“Who?” Seth demanded, grown restive under Pip’s accusing gaze.
“You, of course!”
“But I haven’t been up to any game.”
“You can’t stuff me with that kind of talk, ’cause I’ve got it down
here in black an’ white.”
“Got what down?” Tim asked impatiently. “If there’s anything wrong,
why don’t you come out with it like a man, an’ not stand there like a
dummy?”
“Seth Barrows will find there’s somethin’ wrong when the whole perlice
force of this city gets after him,” Pip replied, in what was very like
a threatening tone. “Listen to this, Tim Chandler, an’ try to figger
out the kind of a game Limpy’s been playin’!”
Then, with a tragical air, Master Smith read slowly from the newspaper
he had been brandishing, the following advertisement:
“INFORMATION WANTED of a boy calling himself Seth Barrows. Said
boy is about eleven years old; his left leg an inch shorter than
the right, and is known to have been living in Jersey City three
years ago. He then sold newspapers for a livelihood, and resided
with one Richard Genet. A liberal reward will be paid for any
information concerning him. Address Symonds & Symonds,
Attorneys-at-law.”
As he ceased reading, Master Smith looked at his companions with a
certain gleam of triumph in his eyes; but this expression quickly
changed to one of severe reproof as he met Seth’s bewildered gaze.
“Sellin’ papers is good enough for me, though it ain’t a business that
brings in any too much money,” he said sharply. “But I don’t keep a
fancy dog, so the cost of livin’ ain’t so high.”
“What does it mean?” Seth asked in a low tone, as he gazed alternately
at Tim and Pip.
“Mean?” the latter replied scornfully. “I reckon you can answer that
better’n we could. When the bank on Broadway was broke into there was
the same kind of notice in the papers, for I saw it with my own eyes.”
“But I haven’t been breakin’ into any bank!” Seth wailed, hugging Snip
yet more tightly to his bosom.
“Then what’s that advertisement there for?” and Master Smith looked
upon his acquaintance with an air of judicial severity.
“How do I know?”
Now it was Tim’s turn to gaze at Seth reproachfully; and as the three
stood there one and another of their acquaintances, having heard the
startling news, came up eagerly curious and positive that Snip’s
master had committed some terrible crime.
The lame boy gave ample token of mental distress, as well he might
after hearing that two attorneys-at-law were desirous of finding him,
and more than one of the throng set down the expression of trouble on
his face as strong proof of guilt.
Although conscious that he had committed no crime, the boy was
thoroughly alarmed at being thus advertised for. He knew that rewards
were offered for information which would lead to the apprehension of
criminals, and never so much as dreamed that similar methods might be
employed in a search for those who were innocent.
There was no reason, so he might have said to himself, why any lawyer
in the city of New York would care to see him, unless he had been
accused of some crime, but as he revolved the matter in his mind
terror took possession of him until all power of reflection had
departed.
The number of alleged friends or acquaintances had increased, until
Seth and Snip were literally surrounded, and every member of the
throng knew full well that the gathering would be rudely dispersed by
the first policeman who chanced to come that way. Therefore it was
that each fellow hastened to give his opinion as to the reason why the
advertisement had been inserted in the columns of the paper, and, with
five or six boys speaking at the same moment, it can well be
understood that no one of them succeeded in making any very great
impression upon the minds of his neighbors.
Seth understood, however, that every boy present was agreed upon the
supposed fact that a great crime had been committed, although these
young merchants might, upon due reflection, come to realize how
improbable was such a supposition.
When little Snip, seeming to understand that his master was in sore
distress, licked the boy’s cheek, it was to Seth almost as if the dog
shared in the belief of those who were so ready to accuse him, and he
could restrain his feelings no longer.
Leaning against the iron column which supported the staircase, with
his face buried in Snip’s silky hair, the crippled lad gave way to
tears, while his companions gazed at him severely, for to their minds
this show of grief was much the same as a confession of guilt.
A blue-coated guardian of the peace dispersed the throng before those
composing it had had time to make audible comment upon this last
evidence of an accusing conscience; but Seth was so bowed down by
bewilderment, sorrow, and fear as not to know that he stood alone with
Snip, while a throng of acquaintances gazed at him from the opposite
side of the street.
Once the officer had passed on, and was at a respectful distance,
Seth’s friends returned, and it could be understood from their manner
that some definite plan of action had been decided upon during the
enforced absence.
“See here, Seth, we ain’t such chumps as to jump on a feller when he’s
down. If you don’t want to tell us what you’ve been doin’——”
“I haven’t done a thing, an’ you know it, Tim Chandler,” the lad
moaned, speaking with difficulty because of his sobs.
“Then what’s the notice about?” Tim asked in a severe, yet friendly
tone.
“I don’t know any more’n you do.”
“Where’s the lead nickel Mickey Dowd says somebody shoved on you the
other day?” Teddy Dixon asked sharply.
Seth raised his head, looked about him for a moment as a shadow of
fear passed over his face, and, dropping Snip for an instant, plunged
both hands deep in his trousers pockets.
Withdrawing them he displayed a small collection of silver and copper
coins, which he turned over eagerly, his companions crowding yet more
closely to assure themselves that the examination was thorough.
“It’s gone!” Seth cried shrilly. “It’s gone; but I’ll cross my throat
if I knew I was passin’ it!”
Snip, hearing his young master’s cry of fear, stood on his hind feet,
scratching and clawing to attract attention, and, hardly conscious of
what he did, Seth took the little fellow in his arms once more.
“That settles the whole business,” Teddy Dixon cried, in the tone of
one who has made an important discovery. “You shoved it on somebody
who’d been lookin’ for counterfeit money, an’ now the detectives are
after you!”
Seth glanced quickly and apprehensively around, as if fearing the
officers of the law were already close upon him, and the seeming
mystery was unravelled.
From that moment there was not even the shadow of a doubt in the minds
of Seth’s acquaintances, and, believing that he had not intended to
commit such a grave crime, the sympathies of all were aroused.
“You’ve got to skip mighty quick,” Tim said, after a brief pause,
during which each lad had looked at his neighbor as if asking what
could be done to rescue the threatened boy.
“Where’ll I go?” Seth cried tearfully. “They know what my name is, an’
there ain’t much use for me to hide.”
“You can bet I wouldn’t hang ’round here many seconds,” one of the
group said, in a low tone, glancing around to make certain his words
were not overheard by the minions of the law. “If we fellers keep our
mouths shut, an’ you sneak off into the country somewhere, I don’t see
how anybody could find you!”
“But where’d I go?” Seth asked, his tears checked by the great fear
which came with the supposed knowledge of what he had done.
“Anywhere. Here’s Snip all ready to take a journey for his health, an’
in ten minutes you’ll be out of the city; but it ain’t safe to hang
’round thinkin’ of it very long, for the detectives will be runnin’
their legs off tryin’ to earn the money that’s promised by the
advertisement.”
Seth made no reply, and his most intimate friends understood that if
he was to be saved from prison the time had arrived when they must act
without waiting for his decision.
They held a hurried consultation, while Seth stood caressing Snip,
without being really conscious of what he did, and then Teddy and Tim
ranged themselves either side of the culprit who had unwittingly
brought himself under the ban of the law.
Seizing him by the arms they forced the lad forward in the direction
of Broadway, Tim saying hoarsely to those who gave token of their
intention to follow:
“You fellers must keep away, else the cops will know we’re up to
somethin’ crooked. Wait here, an’ me an’ Teddy’ll come back as soon as
we’ve taken care of Seth.”
This injunction was not obeyed without considerable grumbling on the
part of the more curious, and but for the efforts of two or three of
the wiser heads, the fugitive and his accomplices would have aroused
the suspicions of the dullest policeman in the city.
“You’ll get yourselves into a heap of trouble if anybody knows you
helped me to run away,” Seth said, in a tone of faint remonstrance.
“It can’t be helped,” Teddy replied firmly, urging the hunted boy to a
faster pace. “We ain’t goin’ to stand by an’ see you lugged off to
jail while there’s a show of our doin’ anything. Keep your eye on Snip
so’s he won’t bark, an’ we’ll look after the rest of the business.”
Even if Seth had been averse to running away from the possible danger
which threatened, he would have been forced to continue the flight so
lately begun, because of the energy displayed by his friends.
Tim and Teddy literally dragged him along, crossing the street at one
point to avoid a policeman, and again dodging into a friendly doorway
when the guardians of the peace came upon them suddenly.
Had any one observed particularly the movements of these three lads,
the gravest suspicions must have been awakened, for they displayed a
consciousness of guilt in every movement, and showed plainly that
their great desire was to escape scrutiny.
Seth was so enveloped in sorrow and fear as to be ignorant of the
direction in which he and Snip were being forced. He understood dimly
that those who had the business of escape in hand were bent on gaining
the river; but to more than that he gave no heed.
Finally, when they were arrived at a ferry-slip, Teddy paid the
passage money, and Seth was led to the forward end of the boat, in
order, as Tim explained, that he might be ready to jump ashore
instantly the pier on the opposite side was gained, in case the
officers of justice had tracked them thus far.
Now, forced to remain inactive for a certain time, Seth’s friends
took advantage of the opportunity to give him what seemed to be
much-needed advice.
“The minute the boat strikes the dock you must take a sneak,” Teddy
said impressively, clutching Seth vigorously by the shoulder to insure
attention. “We’ll hang ’round here to make sure the detectives haven’t
got on to your trail, an’ then we’ll go back.”
“But what am I to do afterward?” Seth asked helplessly.
“There ain’t any need of very much guessin’ about that. You’re bound
to get where there’ll be a chance of hidin’, an’ you want to be mighty
lively.”
“Snip an’ I will have to earn money enough to keep us goin’, an’ how
can it be done while I’m hidin’?”
“How much have you got now?”
“’Bout fifty cents.”
Tim drew from his pocket a handful of coins, mostly pennies, and,
retaining only three cents with which to pay his return passage on the
ferry-boat, forced them upon the fugitive, saying when the boy
remonstrated:
“You’ll need it all, an’ I can hustle a little livelier to-night, or
borrow from some of the other fellers if trade don’t show up as it
ought’er.”
Teddy followed his comrade’s example, paying no heed to Seth’s
expostulations, save as he said:
“We’re bound to give you a lift, old man, so don’t say anything more
about it. If you was the only feller in this city what had passed a
lead nickel, perhaps this thing would look different to me; but the
way I reckon it is, that the man what put the advertisement in the
paper jest ’cause he’d been done out’er five cents is a mighty poor
citizen, an’ I stand ready to do all I can towards keepin’ you away
from him.”
“Look here, fellers,” Seth cried in what was very like despair as the
steamer neared the dock, “I don’t know what to do, even after you’ve
put up all your money. Where can Snip an’ I go? We’ve got to earn our
livin’, an’ I don’t see how it’s to be done if we’re bound to hide all
the time.”
“That’s easy enough,” and Tim spoke hopefully. “The city is a fool
alongside the country, an’ I’m countin’ on your havin’ a reg’lar snap
after you get settled down. When we land, you’re to strike right out,
an’ keep on goin’ till you’re where there’s nothin’ but farms with
milk, an’ pie, an’ stuff to eat layin’ ’round loose for the first
feller what comes to pick ’em up. Pip Smith says farmers don’t do
much of anything but fill theirselves with good things, an’ I’ve
allers wanted to try my hand with ’em for one summer.”
Seth shook his head doubtfully. Although he had never been in the
country, it did not seem reasonable that the picture drawn by Pip
Smith was truthful, otherwise every city boy would turn farmer’s
assistant, rather than remain where it cost considerable labor to
provide themselves with food and a shelter.
“You’ll strike it rich somewhere,” Teddy said, with an air of
conviction, “an’ then you can sneak back long enough to tell us where
you’re hangin’ out. I’ll work down ’round the markets for a spell, an’
p’rhaps I’ll see some of the hayseeders you’ve run across.”
The conversation was brought to a close abruptly as the ferry-boat
entered the dock with many a bump and reel against the heavy timbers;
and Seth, with Snip hugged tightly to his bosom, pressed forward to
the gates that he might be ready to leap ashore instantly they were
opened.
“Keep your upper lip stiff, an’ don’t stop, once you’ve started, till
you’re so far from New York that the detectives can’t find you,” Tim
whispered encouragingly, and ten seconds later the fugitive was
running at full speed up the gangway, Snip barking shrilly at the
throng on either side.
Tim and Teddy followed their friend to the street beyond the ticket
office, and there stood watching until he had disappeared from view.
Then the latter said, with a long-drawn sigh:
“I wish it had been almost any other feller what passed the lead
nickel, for Seth hasn’t got sand enough to do what’s needed, if he
counts on keepin’ out’er jail.” And Tim replied sadly:
“If a feller stuck me with a counterfeit I’d think I had a right to
shove it along; but after all this scrape I’ll keep my eyes open
mighty wide, else it may be a case of the country for me, an’ I ain’t
hankerin’ after livin’ on a farm, even if Pip Smith does think it’s
sich a soft snap.”
Then the friends of the fugitives returned to the ferry-boat, in order
that they might without delay make a report to those acquaintances
whom they knew would be eagerly waiting, as to how Seth had fared at
the outset of his flight.