"TALL OAKS FROM LITTLE ACORNS GROW"
If you wish an illustration of how great events often flow from trifling
causes read what follows. It is one of the many events which prove that
"tall oaks from little acorns grow."
You have not forgotten Jim, the gawky, overgrown boy who had a verbal
contract with Mrs. Friestone which bound him to go to the store each
weekday morning and set out on the front porch the score or more samples
of the goods that were on sale within. The same agreement required him to
come around at dusk each evening and carry them inside, his weekly wage
for such duty being twenty-five cents. When, therefore, Mike Murphy
handed him a silver quarter and assumed the job for that single night,
Jim received a whole week's pay for turning it over to the Irish lad. It
is not so strange that the youngster was confused at first over his bit
of luck, which he did not fully understand until he reached home and had
eaten his supper.
Now by one of those curious coincidences which occur oftener in this life
than most people think, that day was the anniversary of Jim's birth.
Being a good boy, as such things go, his father presented him with a fine
pocketknife, than which nothing could have pleased his son better. It was
really an excellent article, having four blades, one of which was a file,
two of small size, and one quite large, the three being almost as
keen-edged as a razor. Straightway the happy lad selected his right hand
trousers pocket as the home of the knife when not in use. The
miscellaneous articles, such as a jewsharp, a piece of twine, a key,
three coppers, a piece of resin, several marbles, two ten-penny nails, a
stub of a lead pencil and a few other things were shifted to the left
side repository, where also he deposited the shining silver coin, after
showing it to his parents and telling them how he fell heir to it.
The chat of the family shut out reference to the knife for most of the
evening. Both parents were inclined to be gossipy, and they indulged in
many guesses as to the identity of the donor and what caused him to be so
liberal. The mother's first thought was that the red-haired,
freckle-faced youth was a newcomer to Beartown, and had secured Jim's
job, but that fear was removed by Jim's declaration that the stranger
distinctly said he intended to do the work only for that evening.
It was not very late when Jim went to his bedroom on the second floor to
retire for the night. When ready to disrobe, he took out the wealth of
treasures in his left pocket, including the bright quarter, and shoved
his hand into the other for the prize that outweighed them all. Then he
emitted a gasp of dismay: the pocket was empty!
For a few moments he could not believe the truth. He frantically searched
his clothing over and over again, but in vain. The explanation was as
clear as noonday. In the bottom of his right-hand pocket was a gaping
rent, through which he pushed two fingers and disgustedly spread them
apart like a fan. He turned the cloth wrong side out and the dreadful
yawn seemed to grin at him.
Weak and faint he sat down on the edge of his trundle bed.
"What made that blamed hole? It wasn't there a little while ago. It must
have wored the hole while I was walking. I wouldn't lose that knife for
ten million dollars. It _can't_ be lost!"
And then he repeated the search, as almost anyone will do in similar
circumstances. He even looked under the jewsharp and among the marbles on
the stand, where a mosquito could not have hidden itself.
"Oh, what's the use!" he exclaimed, dropping down again despairingly on
the bed. "It's lost! Where did I lose it?"
Pulling himself together, he recalled the experiences of the day, from
the time he received the present directly after breakfast. He had tested
the implement many times in the course of the forenoon and afternoon, and
by and by remembered snapping the big blade shut and slipping it into his
pocket as he was going out of the house to the post office to perform his
daily task. He reasoned well.
"I lost it somewhere atween here and the store. I can't see how it
slipped down my trousers leg without me feeling it, but that's what it
done. It's a-laying on the ground atween here and there, onless," he
added, with a catch of his breath, "that ugly looking willain seen me
drop it inside the store. I wonder if he give me that quarter so as to
hurry me out that he might git my knife!"
He shivered at the probability, but rather singularly the dread was
dissipated by a few minutes more of thought.
"If he'd seen it, so would Nora and she'd told me. It's somewhere along
the street."
Such being his conclusion, the all-important question was what should he
do to retrieve his crushing loss. His first inclination was to tell his
parents and then hurry back over the route to look for the treasure. But
it was night. There was no such thing as a lantern in the house, he could
not carry an ordinary light in the breeze, and the search would be
hopeless.
"I'll get up as soon as it is light," he said, "and hunt till I find it."
Trying to gain hope from this decision, he knelt at the side of his bed
to say his prayers, which he never omitted. His petition was longer than
usual and I need not tell you what its chief if not its whole burden was.
Despite the depressing weight upon his spirits, Jim fell asleep and
remained so for several hours, though his slumber was tortured by dreams
of his knife. Sometimes it was tiny as a pin and then bigger than
himself, but it always slipped from his grasp when he reached out to
seize it.
Suddenly he awoke. It took a minute or two to recall his situation, but
soon the startling truth came back to him. He had lost his knife, and,
remembering his resolve before going to sleep, he bounded out of bed,
certain that day not only had dawned but that it had been light for some
time. He soon discovered, however, that what he took for the glow of the
rising sun came from the moon, whose vivid illumination made the mistake
natural.
"I never seen it so bright," he said, stepping to the window and peering
out.
And then as if by inspiration he whispered:
"It's the right time to hunt for my knife."
He did not know what time it was nor did he care to know. There was so
much moongleam in his room that he easily dressed without any artificial
light. Then, too, the night was mild and his covering scanty. Shirt and
trousers were his only garments. He left his straw hat where he had
"hung" it on the floor in one corner beside his shoes and stockings. The
chief cause for now going barefoot was that his steps would be lighter,
though as a rule he saved his shoes for Sunday and his trips to and from
the store.
He knew his father was a light sleeper, and if awakened would probably
forbid him to go out before morning. So Jim opened his bedroom door so
softly that not the slightest noise was caused. He went down the stairs
as if he were a real burglar in rubber shoes. He stopped several times
with a faster beating heart, for although he had never known the steps to
squeak before they now did so with such loudness that he was sure his
father heard him. But the snoring continued unbroken and Jim reached the
door, where he stealthily slid back the bolt and reversed the key,
without causing any betraying sound.
This side of the house was in shadow, and he stood for a minute or two on
the small, covered porch looking out upon the highway or main street. Not
a soul was in sight, nor did he see a twinkle of light from any of the
windows. It cannot be said that Jim felt any fear, nor did he reflect
upon the risk caused by leaving the door unlocked behind him. He was
thinking only of that loved knife.
He had walked to and from the store so many times that he knew every step
taken earlier in the evening. It was impossible to go wrong, and he was
quite confident of finding the knife unless the brilliant moonlight had
disclosed it to some late passerby.
Jim always crossed the street at a certain point, the post office being
on the other side, so he trod in his own footsteps, which would have worn
a path long before but for those of others, including horses and wagons.
He walked slowly, scanning every inch of the ground and clay pavement in
front of him, but when he drew near the well-remembered building he had
not caught sight of the prize. He was within a few paces of the steps of
the porch of the store, when he was suddenly startled by a gruff voice:
"Hello, there! Where you going?"
He turned his head as a man stepped from under the small elm behind him.
Both being on the same level the slouch hat only partially hid the grim
face and big mustache. Jim would have been more scared had he not caught
sight an instant before of his knife lying at the foot of the steps of
the porch. He sprang forward, caught it up and then faced the stranger,
who had stepped into the street.
"I'm looking fur my knife that I dropped and I've found it too!" he
replied gleefully, holding up the cool, shiny implement. "Gee! aint I
lucky?"
"Well, you get out of here as quick as you can. Go back home and stay
there till morning. Do ye hear me?"
"Yaws; I'm going."
A strange discovery had come to Jim the instant before. As he stooped to
seize his property, his eyes were at the same height as the bottom of the
door leading into the store. It was only for a second or two, but in that
brief space he saw a faint glimmer through the crevice, which he knew was
caused by a light within. With a shrewdness that no one would have
expected from him he said nothing of his discovery to the man who had
accosted him.
"Mind what I told you!" added the stranger, "and don't show your nose
outside your house before morning. Understand?"
"Yaws; I don't want to, 'cause I've got my knife. Hooray!"
"Shut up! Off with you!"
"Yaws;" and Jim broke into a trot which he kept up until he reached his
own porch. In his exuberance of spirits, he was careless and awoke his
father. He came into the hall and roared out a demand for an explanation,
which his son gave in a few hurried words.
"Hooh!" exclaimed his parent; "there's robbers in the post office and I
think I'll take a hand as soon as I can get hold of my shotgun."
Which may serve to explain how it was that Gerald Buxton became involved
in the incidents that speedily followed.