DAN’S MIDNIGHT VISIT
Next door to the blacksmith shop was a small house where Mr. Harrison
lived alone. He did his own cooking, and, once or twice a week, he
hired a woman from the village to come in and do some cleaning. It was
to this rather humble home that the old soldier took Dan.
“The first thing we’ll do will be to have dinner,” said Mr. Harrison.
“I suppose you are hungry.”
“Yes, for I had very little breakfast, and I have been kept pretty busy
since.”
“Well, I’ll cook something, and then we can discuss some plans.”
The blacksmith proved that he knew how to get a meal, for he had often
served as camp cook in the army.
“Can’t I wash up the dishes for you?” asked Dan, when they were through
eating. “I often did for Mrs. Savage.”
“Yes, if you like. Then you can come to the smithy. I have some work I
promised to finish for a man, and it is rather a difficult job.”
“I’m afraid you were delayed by coming to my trial,” said Dan.
“It was a delay I was glad of, since I could be of service to you.”
When Dan went into the smithy, after washing and drying the dishes, he
found Mr. Harrison hard at work.
“No one would think you had just fallen heir to a large sum,” said the
boy, for to him ten thousand dollars was a great deal of money.
“I do not intend to let the money make any difference to me, except
that I shall do work on a larger scale,” remarked the blacksmith. “I
intend to keep the shop going until I can sell it, for I have several
contracts to complete, and it would not be right to drop them. There is
no other blacksmith in the village to whom people can go. Besides, I
like to work.”
It would seem so, from the way the sturdy old man rained blow after
blow on a glowing piece of iron, hammering it into shape, while the red
sparks flew all around.
When the iron cooled he thrust it into the forge fire, and, with bared
arms he worked the bellows handle causing the flames and sparks to
shoot up the chimney, and lighting the smithy with a yellow glow.
“Can’t I help at something?” asked Dan.
“Yes, if you like. There is a box of nails and screws that are all
mixed up. I wish you would sort them according to sizes, and put them
into small boxes. It is something I have often tried in vain to get
time to do.”
Dan set to work with a will. Even in the smithy, which naturally was
not a very clean place, he liked it better than on the farm.
Dan and the blacksmith continued to live together, the boy helping with
odd jobs around the shop, and learning much that was afterward to prove
useful to him. The excitement caused by the trial had somewhat died
away, and during the next two weeks though the two constables spent
part of every day looking for clues to the robbers, they found none.
“The town ought to hire a detective from the city,” said Mr. Harrison
one evening, when, after the day’s work was done, he and Dan were
talking the matter over.
“Yes, I wish they would find out who robbed the place. My trial will
come off in the fall, and unless there is some evidence discovered they
may find me guilty.”
“No jury would ever convict you on such flimsy testimony.”
“Perhaps not, but I don’t even want to go to trial. I want the real
robbers discovered.”
“I hope they will be. By the way, did Mr. Savage answer your letter
which you wrote him, making a formal demand for your books?”
“Yes. He said he would not give them up.”
“Then I shall compel him to by legal means. The books are yours, and
you shall have them.”
It was several days after this that Dan was thinking over the matter of
the books. He did not want his friend, the blacksmith, to have to go to
the expense of a lawsuit to recover the volumes.
“I’ve been bother enough to him,” thought Dan. “I believe I can get
those books myself. I have a right to them, and I’m going to get them.”
He was alone in the smithy, doing a simple job of repairing with which
Mr. Harrison had entrusted him. The blacksmith was away from home,
having gone to a distant town to see a man in reference to selling him
the shop. After finishing the work Dan sat down and did some thinking.
“I believe I’ll do it,” he said to himself, coming to a sudden
decision. “Mr. Harrison will not be at home to-night, and, if there is
any trouble over it, he will not be involved. I can stay out as late as
I like and he will ask no questions. I’ll do it to-night.”
What Dan had resolved upon was rather a rash thing, but he did not
think so at the time. Boys, when they feel that they are in the right,
often go ahead regardless of consequences. It was so in Dan’s case.
He had decided to get the books that belonged to him, and this was how
he was going to do it. He knew they were in the attic room, and he also
knew, from experience, that he could get into the room from the old
apple tree, as he had done that day when the constables caught him as
he was coming down.
About ten o’clock that night Dan left the little cottage where he and
Mr. Harrison lived. He wore an old coat, and had his cap pulled down
over his face. Though he was doing what he felt he had a right to,
still he did not want any one to see him.
By a roundabout way Dan reached the apple orchard back of Peter
Savage’s home. The house was all in darkness, as he knew it would be,
for the family went to bed early, to save kerosene oil. Still Dan
waited until midnight, to be sure every one was sound asleep.
Then the boy cautiously climbed the tree. He went slowly, made no
noise, and soon reached the limb which was outside the window of his
former room.
Making his way along this he found the window open and stepped inside.
Even in the dark he knew where to find his books. He took them from the
case and began to tie them up in two bundles with some strong cord he
had bought. He intended lowering them from the window with a rope, and
then climb down the tree.
Just as he was ready to lower the books, the door of the room suddenly
opened and standing there, with a lamp in his hand, was Mr. Savage.
Behind him was his wife. They were in their night dresses and Mrs.
Savage held a poker.
“So, Dan Hardy, we’ve caught ye!” she exclaimed. “Not content with
robbin’ th’ doctor’s house, ye’ve turned regular burglar, an’ are
tryin’ t’ rob us! Catch him, Peter, he’ll not git off so easy this
time!”