WOLVERTON'S WICKED PLAN.
Wolverton was somewhat puzzled when on his next call Dan Woods paid the
balance due on his rent.
"So you raised the money after all?" he said. "I thought you could if
you made an effort."
"I borrowed the money, sir."
"Of whom?"
"It isn't any secret, Mr. Wolverton. I borrowed it of a neighbor who has
always been kind to me--Bob Burton."
Wolverton shrugged his shoulders.
"I didn't know he had money to lend," he said.
"He always has money for a poor man who needs it."
"All right! I shall know where to go when I need money," responded
Wolverton, with a grin.
"It suits me well enough to have the boy throw away his money,"
Wolverton said to himself. "It will only draw nearer the time when he
will have to sue me for a favor."
That day Wolverton read in a St. Louis paper that wheat was steadily
rising, and had already reached two dollars and six cents per bushel.
"I could make a fine thing of it if I had only received the Barton wheat
at a dollar and a half a bushel," he reflected, regretfully. "If I had
only the widow to deal with, I might have succeeded, for she knows
nothing of business. But that confounded boy is always putting a spoke
in my wheel. If he carries out his plan, and markets the wheat, it will
set him on his feet for the year to come."
This reflection made Wolverton feel gloomy. There are some men who are
cheered by the prosperity of their neighbors, but he was not one of
them. He began to speculate as to whether there was any way of
interfering with Bob's schemes. Generally when a man is seeking a way of
injuring his neighbor he succeeds in finding one. This was the plan that
suggested itself to Wolverton: If he could set the ferry-boat adrift
when the grain was all stored it would float down stream, and the
chances were against its being recovered. It would be mean, and even
criminal, to be sure. For the first, Wolverton did not care; for the
second, he would take care that no one caught him at it. He did not
think of employing any one else in the matter, for he knew of no one he
could trust; and he felt that he could do it more effectually than any
agent, however trustworthy.
Wolverton was so full of the plan, which commended itself to him as both
simple and effective, that he took a walk late in the evening from his
house to the point on the creek where the boat was tethered.
Now, it so happened that Dan Woods, who had been employed all day, had
occasion to go to the village in the evening to procure a few groceries
from the village store. He delayed for a time, having met an old
acquaintance, and it was half-past nine when he set out on his return
homeward.
His way led him not only by the Burton homestead, but by the river bend
where Bob kept his rowboat--the same point also where the ferry-boat was
tied.
As he approached, he caught sight of a man's figure standing on the
bank. Who it was he could not immediately distinguish on account of the
darkness.
"It may be some one bent on mischief," he thought to himself. "I will
watch him and find out, if I can, who it is."
He kept on his way stealthily till he was within a dozen feet, when he
slipped behind a tree. Then it dawned upon him who it was.
"It's Aaron Wolverton, as I'm a living man," he ejaculated, inwardly.
"What can he be doing here?"
It was Wolverton, as we know. The old man stood in silence on the bank,
peering through the darkness at the shadowy form of the ferry-boat,
which already contained half the wheat crop of Burton's Ranch--the
loading having commenced that morning. He had one habit which is
unfortunate with a conspirator--the habit of thinking aloud--so he let
out his secret to the watchful listener.
"Sam tells me they expected to get half the crop on board to-day," he
soliloquized. "I sent him over to get that very information, though he
don't know it. It is too early to do anything yet. To-morrow night the
whole cargo will be stored, and then it will be time to cut the rope and
let it drift. I should be glad to see the boy's face," he chuckled,
"when he comes down to the creek the next morning and finds the boat
gone. That will put him at my mercy, and the widow, too," he added,
after a pause. "He will repent too late that he thwarted me. I will work
in secret, but I get there all the same!"
Wolverton clasped his hands behind his back and, turning, walked
thoughtfully away. He did not see his tenant, who was crouching behind a
tree not over three feet from the path.
Dan Woods had no very favorable opinion of Wolverton, but what he had
heard surprised and shocked him.
"I didn't think the old man was as wicked as that!" he said to himself.
"He is scheming to ruin Bob and his mother. Why should he have such a
spite against them?"
This is a question which we can answer, but Woods became more puzzled
the more he thought about it. One thing was clear, however; he must
apprise Bob of the peril in which he stood. Even if he had not received
the last favor from our hero, he would have felt in duty bound to do his
best to defeat Wolverton's wicked plan.
The next morning, therefore, he made an early call at Burton's Ranch,
and asked for a private interview with Bob. He quickly revealed to him
the secret of which he had become possessed.
"Thank you, Dan," said Bob, warmly. "You have done me a favor of the
greatest importance. I knew Wolverton was my enemy, and the enemy of our
family, but I did not think he would be guilty of such a mean and wicked
action. If he had succeeded, I am afraid we should have lost the farm."
"You won't let him succeed?" said Dan Woods, anxiously.
"No; forewarned is forearmed. I shall be ready for Mr. Wolverton!" And
Bob closed his lips resolutely.
He deliberated whether he should let his mother know of the threatened
danger, but finally decided not to do so. It would only worry her, and
do no good, as whatever measures of precaution were to be taken, he must
take. He did not even tell Clip; for though the young colored boy was
devoted to him, he was lacking in discretion, and might let out the
secret. Bob did not want to prevent the attempt being made. He wished to
catch Wolverton in the act.
He did, however, take into his confidence a faithful man who had worked
for his father ever since the ranch was taken, thinking it prudent to
have assistance near if needed.
That day the rest of the wheat was stored on the ferry-boat. All would
be ready for a start the next morning, and this Bob had decided to make.
He sent Clip to bed early, on the pretext that he must have a good
night's sleep, as he would be called early. If Clip had had the least
idea of what was in the wind he would have insisted on sitting up to see
the fun, but he was absolutely ignorant of it.
Wolverton had learned from Sam, who was surprised that his uncle should
let him spend almost all his time with his friends, Bob and Clip, that
the cargo had been stored.
"When do they start?" he asked, carelessly.
"To-morrow morning, uncle," Sam answered.
"If I had thought of it," said Wolverton, "I would have asked young
Burton to take my wheat along, too."
"I don't think he would have room for it, Uncle Aaron. The boat is about
full now."
"Oh, well; I shall find some other way of sending it," said Wolverton,
carelessly.
About nine o'clock Wolverton stole out in the darkness, and made his way
stealthily to the bend in the creek. He had with him a sharp razor--he
had no knife sharp enough--which he judged would sever the thick rope.
Arrived at the place of his destination, he bent over and drew out the
razor, which he opened and commenced operations. But there was an
unlooked-for interference.
A light, boyish figure sprang from behind a tree, and Bob Barton, laying
his hand on Wolverton's shoulder, demanded, indignantly:
"What are you doing here, Mr. Wolverton?"
Wolverton started, dropped the razor in the river, and, with an
expression of alarm, looked up into Bob's face.