JAKE AMSDEN MAKES AN EARLY CALL, AND HAS A WARM RECEPTION.
THE next morning Gerald was up bright and early. He felt bound to
entertain his new employer, who was temporarily his guest, as royally
as possible. So he decided to make some fresh bread for breakfast, and
this would take him some time. Still all his preparations were made,
and breakfast all ready to be served before his companion awoke.
“He must be pretty tired,” thought Gerald. “I won’t wake him up, for
his business isn’t very pressing, and he will be glad of a good long
rest.”
He ate a little himself, for he had been up long enough to have a good
appetite, and seated himself on the settee in front of the cabin.
It was a charming morning, and as Gerald sat there, he felt that he had
good reason to be thankful. Yesterday he had felt alone in the world,
and had very little idea how he was going to make a living, but to-day
he found himself with a bright prospect ahead, and the promise of an
income which would have been satisfactory to many of double his age.
The state of the weather is apt to affect our spirits, and the clear
sunshine and cool bracing air had its effect on Gerald. From his seat
he could see at a distance of twenty-five miles the snowy top of
Pike’s Peak, looking on account of the clearness of the atmosphere not
more than five miles away. There were intermediate summits which, had
he been nearer, would have hidden the snowy crest of the grand old
mountain, but from where he was he could see clearly, rising above the
wooded slope.
“Colorado may be a wilderness, but it has grand scenery!” thought
Gerald. “Some time I must go to the top of Pike’s Peak. The view from
there must be great.”
He had entertained this wish before, but his father would not consent,
and, indeed as there was some danger of losing one’s way in case of a
sudden fog, his apprehensions were justified.
“How peaceful and beautiful everything looks this morning,” thought
Gerald.
But though Gerald was right, the peacefulness of the scene was soon
to be broken in upon by a human intruder on whom it produced no
impression.
As Gerald sat in quiet contemplation the figure of a man approached
rapidly. When he came nearer Gerald recognized his visitor as Jake
Amsden.
There was something hostile in Jake’s appearance, and there was an ugly
look on his face that indicated anything but friendship.
“Hallo, you young rascal!” he called out roughly, when he arrived
within earshot. “Why don’t you answer me?” he continued as Gerald
remained silent.
“I am no rascal, Mr. Amsden,” said Gerald in a dignified tone, “and I
don’t choose to be called one.”
“Oh, you’re puttin’ on frills, are you?” retorted Jake, halting where
he stood, and eying the boy with evident malevolence.
“If that’s what you call it, I am. If you will speak to me in a civil
manner I will answer you.”
“Oh, you will, will you?” sneered Amsden. “You’ll answer me any way.”
“Have you any business with me?”
“Yes, I have. You don’t think I’d come round here so early in the
mornin’ if I hadn’t?”
“I don’t know. I am not acquainted with your habits.”
“Has the gentleman gone that was stoppin’ here?”
“You mean Mr. Wentworth?”
“Like as not. I don’t know his name.”
“He went away yesterday.”
Jake Amsden appeared to receive this answer with satisfaction. He
wanted to be sure that Gerald was alone and unprotected.
“Ho ain’t comin’ back, is he?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Then you’re livin’ alone?”
“My poor father is dead as you know. Yes, I am alone in the world.”
“Look here, boy!” he commenced abruptly, “you asked me if I came on
business.”
“Yes.”
“Well, I have,” and the visitor eyed Gerald with a sinister glance.
Gerald suspected that Jake had heard of his visit to Pete Johnson’s
saloon, and wanted to hold him responsible for the loss of the stolen
wallet. He was not alarmed, knowing, as Jake Amsden did not, that he
had a friend within call.
“State your business,” he said calmly.
“I’ll do just that. Gerald Lane, you’ve played me a mean trick.”
“Go ahead! Tell me what it is.”
“You came to Pete Johnson’s and stole a wallet full of money from me
when I was asleep. Now it ain’t no use your denyin’ that you was there,
for Pete Johnson told me all about it.”
“I don’t intend to deny it. Mr. Wentworth and I called at Pete
Johnson’s saloon when you were lying under the counter.”
“No matter where I was. I’m a gentleman, and if I choose to lie
down under the counter of my friend Pete Johnson, it’s none of your
business.”
“Oh, I don’t care to interfere with you. You can lie there every night
if you like, so far as I am concerned.”
“Of course I can, but that ain’t business. Where’s that wallet you took
from me? Answer me that, you young jackanapes!”
“I took no wallet from you.”
“Then the man that was with you did.”
“That is nothing to me. Tell me, Jake Amsden, where did you get that
wallet, and the money that was in it?”
“It was my wallet.”
“And the money was yours, too, I suppose?”
“It’s none of your business any way. It was in my pocket when I lay
down and when I got up it was gone. You needn’t go to deny it, for Pete
Johnson saw it taken.”
“Look here, Jake Amsden!” said Gerald in a fearless tone, “the wallet
and money were stolen by you from Mr. Wentworth, and he only took what
belonged to him.”
“That’s a lie!”
“It’s the truth.”
“Did you see me take it?”
“No, but my father woke up in the night, and saw you bending over Mr.
Wentworth. That was when you took the wallet.”
“Your father was dreamin’! It’s all a made up story. Jake Amsden ain’t
no thief.”
“I shan’t call you any names. I only tell you the facts in the case.”
“Look here, boy, you’re mighty independent for a kid. Do you know who I
am?” and Jake, with his arms akimbo, faced Gerald threateningly.
“I know who you are very well, Mr. Amsden.”
“_Mr._ Amsden! Well, that’s all right. You’d better be respectful. Do
you know what I’ve come here for?”
“Suppose you tell me.”
“I’ve come here to thrash you within an inch of your life.”
“What for?” asked Gerald, who didn’t seem as much overwhelmed as Jake
Amsden anticipated.
“For robbin’ me of a wallet full of money.”
“I told you already that I had nothing to do with taking the wallet.
You must see Mr. Wentworth about that.”
“But he isn’t here.”
“You may see him again some time.”
“That don’t go down. He’s gone away, but you are here. I’m goin’ to
take it out of your hide.”
“I am only a boy, Mr. Amsden. Won’t you let me off?”
Gerald seemed alarmed, and Jake Amsden was pleased at the impression
his threats appeared to have made.
“How much money have you got about you?” he demanded.
“Not quite two dollars.”
“Didn’t your father leave you any?” asked Jake, incredulous.
“My father was a very poor man. He had no money to leave.”
“Then it’s all the wuss for you, youngster. I’m goin’ to tan your hide,
and don’t you forget it!”
Jake slipped off his coat, and advanced in a menacing way.
Gerald dodged him, and tried to escape. For a time he succeeded in
eluding the grasp of his antagonist, and the delay only infuriated
Amsden the more.
At last he managed to catch Gerald, and with a savage cry of triumph
bore him to the ground.
“Now I’ve got you!” he exclaimed, “and I’m goin’ to pound you till you
won’t know where you are.”
He pinioned Gerald to the earth, and the boy would have fared very
badly, but for the timely assistance of his guest.
Jake Amsden was preparing to carry out his threat, when something
unexpected happened, and he was under the impression that he had been
struck by a cyclone. The English tourist had been awakened by the
discussion, and comprehending from what he heard that Gerald was in a
tight place, he hastily threw on his clothes, and at the right time
darted out of the cabin, seized Jake by the collar with one hand while
with the other he planted a blow in his face, nearly stunned him, and
dragging him from Gerald hurled him forcibly upon the ground six feet
away.
“Jumpin’ Jehosaphat! What have I struck?” muttered Jake, looking around
stupidly, as he lay on his back without attempting to get up.
[Illustration: “Allow me to introduce myself,” said the Englishman. “I
am the Hon. Noel Brooke of England.”—Page 93.]