THE COMING OF A LETTER
Perhaps Dick did not walk quite as briskly as usual while trudging
homeward, for he was certainly pretty well tired out, and what with the
poles and fish he had quite a burden to carry.
But he felt pleased to think that the day had been so filled with little
happenings, from his unsuccessful search for work, the ride with the
friendly farmer who had offered him a place, the fishing-hole industry,
and last, but not far from least, the rescue of Benjy and succeeding
gratitude of pretty Bessie Gibbs.
He was glad it had been _her_ cat; he would sooner do a favor for Bessie
than any girl he knew; for while her father was probably the richest man
in Riverview she had never put on any airs like the Harkness girls, who
passed him in the street and looked right through him without a smile.
About half way home he met a carriage coming out from town.
It contained several people, and Dick quickly recognized it as the
Gibbs vehicle--yes, and that Bessie was one of those who made up the
party.
He stepped out of the road to let it pass; and had it been possible Dick
would have tried to conceal himself behind a tree; but he feared Bessie
must have already seen him, and would laugh at his desire to avoid being
thanked for his afternoon's rescue.
Just as he feared, the carriage came to a stop before reaching him, and
he saw Bessie leaning forward, beckoning wildly to him.
"Dick, please come here. Mamma wants to thank you for saving our poor
little Benjy. He has dried off beautifully, and looks whiter than ever.
I don't believe his swim hurt him a little bit. I hope you didn't catch
cold, Dick," was what he heard her saying.
There was nothing for it then but to advance to the side of the
carriage.
Mrs. Gibbs was a refined lady, and perhaps a little given to believing
that there are few things in this world that cannot be settled by a
money consideration.
She felt grateful to the boy for saving the pet of her daughter; she
knew who he was and that his father had been a carpenter, an honest man
and with a reputation for respectability around Riverview, but she could
not imagine for a moment that she would hurt the feelings of a boy by
offering him a reward for wading into the river and taking a drowning
cat out.
"Yes, I hope you will not suffer from your immersion, Richard. It was
very kind, indeed, of you to go to such trouble for the sake of a poor
cat. And, perhaps, something might have happened to Bessie too, she is
so excitable when anything occurs. I hope you will let me reward you in
some way. Won't you accept this, please? You must have quite ruined your
clothes by your brave act, and perhaps this will purchase another suit,"
said the lady, holding out what Dick saw was a ten dollar bill.
He felt the blood fly to his face.
Then he looked down at his old garments, which he only donned for garden
work or fishing, and afterwards glanced up at Bessie, to laugh aloud.
"I guess I'm like Benjy, Mrs. Gibbs, and that the ducking did my clothes
more good than harm. These are my fishing duds, ma'm. And if you please
I'd rather not take any reward for pulling the poor little kitten in out
of the wet. It was only sport for me, and I was glad to be there to save
him for Bessie. Besides, I know my mother would not like it if I took
pay for doing so small a thing," he said.
"What did I tell you, mamma?" exclaimed Bessie, impulsively, as though
she had begged her mother not to offer the boy money.
The lady looked at Dick seriously for a minute, as if unable to exactly
understand the motives that influenced him to act as he did.
Then she smiled and remarked:
"Just as you say, Richard. I suppose you know best; but even though you
will not let us recompense you in any manner, we still feel that we are
under obligations to you for what you did. You seem to have had good
success in fishing?" noticing the fine string he was holding at his
side.
"It has not been a good day. I hope to do better to-morrow, for I have
an idea of going into the business for a while, and supplying families
with fresh caught fish, while waiting to secure a position. It is
necessary that I do something to help out at home, since my mother has
all she owns invested where it happens to be tied up just at present,
ma'm."
Had he dared, Dick would have liked to have mentioned the fact that it
was the secret hope of his heart some day to find an humble opening in
the bank of which the lady's husband was the head; but he lacked the
boldness to speak.
"I am sure the spirit you show is commendable enough, my boy. Your
mother has need of feeling proud of so affectionate a son. I have often
wished we had a boy to follow in the footsteps of Archibald; but Heaven
saw fit to take three from us when they were babies. Perhaps in some way
we can show you that we do appreciate what you did for Bessie this
afternoon, Richard," the lady remarked.
"She thanked me, Mrs. Gibbs; that was enough for me," he replied, and
somehow Bessie blushed as she met his laughing eyes.
Then the carriage drove on, and Dick stood there looking after it with a
queer feeling in his heart; he was wondering what the uncertain future
had in store for him, and if his dear little mother would ever see the
day when she could ride in her own vehicle.
He heaved a long sigh, and once more plodded along the road; but somehow
he did not seem quite so tired as before meeting the carriage that
contained Bessie Gibbs and her mother.
He found supper ready, and the usual warm welcome from his waiting
mother.
And over the meal he described in detail all that had happened during
that rather eventful day.
She hung upon his every word, for like most fond mothers she believed
there could be no boy like her own; and when Dick told in as dramatic a
manner as possible how he had chased across the point upon hearing those
shrill screams, she waited in real suspense until he described what
really met his view upon bursting forth, and the change from impending
tragedy to a farce was so great that Mrs. Morrison sank back in her
chair, smiling, but looking a little pale.
"I remember Bessie very well. Last winter she sang in the church choir
with a number of your school companions; and I think I recollect that
you saw her home one night when some accident happened to the horse, and
no vehicle came after her," she mused, looking roguishly at Dick, who
blushed as he turned the subject.
Before going to bed Dick spent half an hour digging more bait, and then
even enlarged the little homely seine made of mosquito netting; if the
fish must be tempted with minnows it was up to him to give them what
they wanted, and in order to make a decent haul of live bait he knew
that a larger net was necessary.
He was up before dawn, and gone before his mother came downstairs to get
breakfast; but this did not surprise the good woman, for she knew Dick's
ways, and that if his heart was set on anything he never let the grass
grow under his feet.
So shortly after sunrise the boy was settled at his old stamping ground
alongside the favorite hole, and had his lines out ready for an early
prize; while he worked his little seine and scooped up many fine minnows
to be transplanted into the shallow pond made ready for their occupancy.
And his prediction seemed in a fair way of being fulfilled, for he was
kept busy baiting his lines, so fast and furious became the rush on the
part of the finny denizens of the pool behind the big eddy for a
breakfast.
He seemed to have come at just the right time, and offered them the very
bait they were eager for.
His string increased at a surprising rate, and after the sun had been up
a couple of hours Dick saw that he had a mighty fine lot of beauties to
dispose of.
Later on as the bites grew fewer, and he found he had some time on his
hands, he proceeded to dress his fish, and cover them with cool leaves
in the basket he had brought along for this very purpose.
Before noon he started back to town, resolved to dispose of his catch.
He could not expect to do as well as this every day, but there was
certainly twenty pounds of fine fresh fish in his basket, and he
believed he could readily sell them for a couple of dollars.
He had already picked out certain houses where he meant to offer his
wares; and it can be readily guessed that the Gibbs mansion was _not_
one of the number, although it stood not far away from his starting
point; just why this should be so the reader must be left to
imagine--perhaps it was because he was afraid he would be thanked again
by Mrs. Gibbs for saving the life of the pet Angora; perhaps he somehow
did not fancy appearing again in his old clothes before Bessie;
perhaps,--but surely every boy must understand how Dick felt about it.
Just as he expected, he met with flattering success in disposing of the
contents of his basket; for while Riverview was situated on a stream
that seemed bountifully supplied with fish few persons made it a
business to secure enough of them to offer any for sale; and what could
be found on the stands in the markets had come from Boston, and were
packed in ice, so that their delicate flavor had been much impaired.
At about three, then Dick headed toward home, quite satisfied with his
day's work.
He jingled a handful of change in his pocket with the cheerful air of
one who has earned every penny of it--just two dollars and twenty cents,
surely enough to pay him for his early rising.
His mother was out when he got home, probably having just stepped over
to see a sick neighbor; and Dick, entering the house, dropped into a
chair to rest a little before going out to dig more worms for the
morning.
It was while he was stretching himself out that his eyes chanced to fall
upon a letter on the table, and to his surprise it was addressed to
"Richard Morrison."
He snatched it up filled with wonder, for he could hardly remember ever
having received a letter before, though once a former boy friend had
written him from Florida where his father had gone for his health.
And his eyes distended still more when he saw up in the corner of the
envelope the printed words: "First National Bank of Riverview."
With trembling fingers Dick tore the envelope open.