JAKE AMSDEN TURNS OVER A NEW LEAF.
NOW it was the turn of Gerald and Mr. Brooke to look surprised.
“Why, I thrashed Jake Amsden within an hour,” said the tourist, “for an
attack upon Gerald.”
“He doesn’t seem to have improved then,” said Carter. “Does he live
hereabouts?”
“Yes.”
“Is he in business in this neighborhood?”
“His chief business,” answered Gerald, “is to get drunk, and when he
can’t raise money any other way he steals it.”
“Evidently he is the same man. He is the cause of all my misfortunes.”
“Here he is coming back!” said Gerald suddenly.
“Good!” exclaimed the tourist. “I have some business with him.”
Jake had evidently visited Pete Johnson’s saloon again, judging from
his flushed face and unsteady gait. Still he was in a condition to get
around.
“Stay in the cabin till I call you!” whispered Noel Brooke to Carter.
“Well,” he said, turning to meet Amsden, “have you come back for
another boxing lesson?”
“No, squire,” answered Jake.
“What then?”
“I thought you might like a guide, considerin’ this is your first visit
to Colorado. Don’t you want to go up Pike’s Peak?”
“I have engaged Gerald here to go about with me.”
“He’s a boy. He don’t know nothin’ of the country.”
“He will satisfy me as a companion better than you.”
“If you’re goin’ away, Gerald,” said Amsden with unabashed assurance,
“won’t you let me live in the cabin till you come back?”
“It has been engaged by another tenant,” answered Gerald.
“Who is it? It isn’t Pete Johnson, is it?”
“No, I don’t propose to let my cabin for a saloon.”
“You’re right, boy. You’d better let me have it.”
“But I told you that it was already promised to another party.”
“Who is it?”
“An old acquaintance of yours.”
At a signal from Noel Brooke John Carter came out, leading Oscar by the
hand. He looked earnestly at Jake Amsden. It was the first time in many
years that he had seen the man who was the prime mover in the events
that had brought about his financial ruin. He would hardly have known
Jake, so much had his appearance suffered from habitual intemperance.
Jake Amsden on his part scanned Carter with curious perplexity.
“Do I know you?” he asked.
“You knew me once. I have good reason to remember you,” answered John
Carter gravely.
Something in his voice recalled him to Amsden.
“Why, it’s Carter,” he said, “John Carter. How are you, Carter, old
fellow? It does me good to set eyes on an old friend.”
Carter was unprepared for this cordial welcome, and when Jake Amsden
approached with hand extended, he put his own behind his back.
“I can’t take your hand, Jake,” he said. “You’ve done me too much harm.”
“Oh, you mean that old affair,” said Jake in an airy tone. “I did
act meanly, that’s a fact, but we’re both older now. Let bygones be
bygones. It’s all over now.”
“It isn’t all over. That false accusation of yours has blighted my
life. It has driven me from factory to factory, and finally driven me
out here in the hope that I might begin a new life where it would no
longer be in my way.”
“I’m sorry for that, Carter,” said Jake Amsden. “’Pon my soul, I am. I
know it was a mean trick I played upon you, but it was either you or I.”
“And you ruined this man’s reputation to save your own?” said Noel
Brooke sternly.
“I didn’t think much about it, squire, I really didn’t,” said Jake.
“You see I run in a hole, and I was ready to do anything to get out.”
“It was the act of a scoundrel, Amsden. There is only one thing to do.”
“What is it? Take another lickin’?”
“No, that wouldn’t mend matters. You must sign a confession that you
committed the theft of which Carter was unjustly accused, so that he
may have this to show whenever the old charge is brought up against him
hereafter.”
“I’ll do it, squire. I’d have done it long ago if I’d known.”
“It is better late than not at all. Come into the cabin, both of you.”
His orders were obeyed, and after asking questions as to details he
wrote out a confession exonerating John Carter and laying the blame on
the right party. Gerald furnished him with pen, ink and paper.
“Now,” he said, when the document was completed, “I want you, Jake
Amsden, to sign this and Gerald and I will subscribe our names as
witnesses.”
“All right, squire, I’ll do it. You must not mind the writin’ for I
haven’t handled a pen for so long that I have almost forgotten how to
write.”
Jake Amsden affixed his signature in a large scrawling hand, and the
two witnesses subscribed after him.
“Now, Mr. Carter,” said Noel Brooke, as he handed him the paper,
“keep this carefully, and whenever that scoundrel who has made it
his business to persecute you engages again in the same work you can
show this document, and it will be a satisfactory answer to his base
charges.”
“I thank you, Mr. Brooke,” said Carter in a deep voice. “You cannot
conceive what a favor you have done me. I feel that a great burden
has been lifted from my life, and that it has passed out of the shadow
which has obscured it for so long. Now I shall be able to leave Oscar
an untarnished name!”
During the day Carter made a trip to a point two miles distant where
he had left his modest luggage, and returned to take possession of the
cabin. In the afternoon Jake Amsden made another call, and informed him
that he could obtain employment at a lumber camp not far distant.
“Are you going to work there, Mr. Amsden?” asked Gerald.
“I am offered employment,” answered Jake, “but my health won’t allow me
to do hard work, so I gave my chance to Carter.”
Gerald smiled, for he understood this was not the real objection. Jake
Amsden was naturally stronger and more robust than John Carter, but he
had for years led a life of idleness, and the mere thought of working
all day fatigued him.
John Carter felt relieved at the prospect of obtaining work and
grateful to the man whom for years he had regarded as his enemy for his
agency in securing it.
“What pay will I receive?” he asked.
“Four dollars a day.”
“Why, that is twice as much as I was paid at the factory,” he said.
“Now I can see my way clear to support Oscar and myself comfortably.
Jake Amsden, I never expected to feel grateful to you, but if I get
this job I will forget the past and feel kindly towards you from
henceforth.”
“It’s all right, Carter, old boy. I ain’t all black, you see.”
But there were certainly some pretty dark spots still on his character,
not the least of which was his compact with Bradley Wentworth
concerning the papers in Gerald’s possession, which the crafty Amsden
had by no means forgotten.