BOB’S FIRST ADVENTURE.
“I WONDER if they never saw a white boy and a spotted horse before,”
thought Bob, who could not bear to have any one stare at him. “I hope
they will know me the next time they see me!”
He rode to a rack on the opposite side of the street where the horses
belonging to the idlers were hitched, and after dismounting and tying
his own animal, he took the valise down from the horn of his saddle,
where it had hung during the journey, and crossed over to the sidewalk.
He bowed and wished the idlers good-morning, as he passed through their
ranks, but they only stared at him the harder; and Bob, wondering at
their rudeness, kept on and went into the store. A boy about his own
age, who was standing in the door, and whom Bob took to be the clerk,
for he had a pen behind his ear, and a pair of scissors sticking out of
his vest pocket, made room for him to pass, and one of the men on the
sidewalk arose from his box and followed him in. This was the
proprietor, as Bob afterward learned.
“Mornin’, stranger,” said he. “What kin I do fur ye?”
“Good-morning, sir,” answered Bob. “Is there any place about here where
I can have my horse fed, and get a good breakfast for myself?”
“Been a travellin’ a good piece, I reckon, aint ye?” said the man. “Yer
creetur looks kinder leg-weary.”
“Yes, he and I are both tired. We have come from Rochdale since
midnight.”
“Came right peart, I reckon, didn’t ye?”
“I didn’t waste any time, for I want to catch the first boat that goes
up the river,” replied Bob. “Do you expect one along soon? I see there
is a good deal of freight on the bank.”
“Wal, I dunno how soon she’ll come, but we’ll stop her when she does
come.”
Hearing the sound of footsteps behind him, Bob, who had thus far stood
with his back to the door, turned round, and saw that about half the
idlers had followed him into the store, and ranged themselves in front
of the counter as if they wanted to hear what passed between Bob and the
proprietor, while the other half had crossed to the opposite side of the
road and were gathered about his horse, which they appeared to be
examining with a great deal of interest. While Bob was looking at them,
one of the men pointed to a spot on the horse’s flank and struck his
open hand with his fist, as if he were emphasizing something he was
saying.
“We sometimes do fur hungry folks what come here to ketch boats,” said
the grocer. “We done had our grub long ago, but I reckon mebbe Betsy can
fix ye up suthin’. I’ll go an’ see.”
As the man said this he took Bob’s valise from his hand, and disappeared
with it through a door in the rear of the store. He was gone about five
minutes, and when he came out he announced that Betsy would have some
breakfast ready very shortly, and while she was preparing it, he and Bob
would put the horse in the stable and feed him. Bob followed him across
the street, and while he was unhitching the animal the grocer stood by
and gave him a good looking over. “Whar did ye get this creetur,
stranger?” he asked at length.
“My father raised him,” was the reply. “He has never had any owner but
me.”
“An’ what might yer name be?”
“Owens.”
“An’ whar might ye hang out when yer to hum?”
“Two miles east of Rochdale.”
“Why couldn’t ye take a boat thar as well as here?” asked the man,
looking steadily into Bob’s face.
“Because I had some business to transact a few miles below here, and I
could save time by coming to Linwood,” answered the boy, without the
least hesitation. “I should have lost a day or two if I had gone back to
Rochdale.”
“Yer goin’ up the river, ye say: how fur?”
“St. Louis.”
“How long ye goin’ to be gone?”
“A week or two, at least.”
“Want me to keep yer horse fur ye till ye come back, I reckon, don’t
ye?”
“O, no. As soon as he has finished his breakfast I’ll put the saddle on
him, tie the bridle fast to it so that it can’t fall off, and turn him
loose. He’ll find his way home all right.”
While this conversation was going on Bob had followed the man through a
pair of bars, that gave entrance into a yard in the rear of the store,
and into a shed where there was a long trough, with a couple of rope
halters made fast to it. Bob put one of these halters on his horse,
after relieving him of the saddle and bridle, saw him supplied with a
good breakfast of corn, and then followed the man back to the house and
into the kitchen, where a woman, whom Bob took to be the Betsy of whom
his host had spoken, was busy laying the table, and superintending the
cooking of some ham and eggs. In compliance with a signal, conveyed by
the wave of the man’s hand, Bob took possession of the nearest chair,
while the man himself went out into the store, closing the door behind
him. The latch, however, did not hold, and the door swung open two or
three inches. Bob scarcely noticed this at the time it occurred, but his
attention was called to it in a very few minutes.
The woman who was preparing breakfast did not prove to be very sociable,
for she never spoke to her guest (although the boy more than once caught
her in the act of staring very hard at him), until she had placed the
ham and eggs on the table, and then she invited him rather curtly to
“set up.” After that, as if she considered that she had done her whole
duty, she went into another room and shut the door behind her, leaving
Bob to wait on himself.
“These are the queerest people I ever saw,” thought the boy, as he drew
his chair to the table. “They act as if they don’t want me here; and if
that is the case, why don’t they say so? This isn’t the only house in
the settlement at which I can obtain a breakfast. Perhaps they are
Yankees, and afraid that they won’t get pay for what I eat.”
Bob was too hungry to follow out this train of thought any farther. He
devoted himself entirely to the viands before him, and had just poured
out a second cup of coffee and helped himself to a second egg, when his
attention was attracted by the sound of voices in the store. He
distinctly heard his own name pronounced, and after listening for a few
moments he caught some words that made his cheek blanch. The men in the
store must have been excited about something, for they talked in pretty
loud tones, and every syllable they uttered came plainly to Bob’s ears
through the open door.
“Wal, Aleck, what does he have to say fur himself?” asked a voice.
“He says his name is Owens, an’ that he lives two mile from Rochdale,”
Bob heard his host answer.
“So’s my grandmother’s name Owens,” said the one who had first spoken.
“I tell you, Aleck, he’s the fellow we have been a lookin’ fur, an’ you,
bein’ a justice, had oughter make out a warrant at once.”
“’Pears like he’s mighty bold to bring the hoss back here where he
b’longs,” said another. “He’s a powerful peart, honest-lookin’ boy,
too.”
“Mebbe it aint the hoss we think it is,” said the grocer. “He says his
pap raised him, and seems to me he don’t look like Tom’s lost creetur,
nuther.”
“Wal, we’ll know in a few minutes, fur Tom will be here directly. Sam’s
jest gone arter him. What brung this boy up here, any how?”
“He’s goin’ to St. Louis. He tells a mighty straight story, but thar’s
one thing about it that don’t look jest right to me. Arter the hoss has
done got through eatin’, he’s goin’ to put the saddle onto him an’ turn
him loose to find his own way back to his hum.”
“Aha!” exclaimed one of the idlers, whose voice Bob had not heard
before. “That shows that the creetur don’t b’long to him. If he did,
he’d take better care on him nor that. Somebody would be sartin to pick
the hoss up for a stray afore he had gone a mile. Here comes Tom, now.”
Bob heard a shuffling of feet, as if the idlers were moving in a body
toward the door, then some subdued words of greeting, followed by more
stamping of feet, which gradually died away as the men moved off
together. Presently, Bob heard the sound of voices in the back yard, and
rising from his chair he stepped to a window and looked out. He saw a
dozen men there, and they were walking toward the stable. When they
reached it the grocer went in and brought out Bob’s horse, and the
others gathered about him and examined him closely. When their
investigations were concluded the animal was led back into the stable
again and the men came toward the house.
“Why, I really believe they take me for a horse-thief,” thought Bob, and
the idea amused him. “Thank goodness, I am not as bad as that. I expect
to steal horses from the Indians some day—Wild Bill and Texas Jack and
all those fellows do it, and there’s no harm in it; but I’ll never steal
from a white man. I only hope I shall be lucky enough to find the
Comanche chief who rides that white pacer. He’s the horse I’ve got my
eye on, and he’s worth having, for he is so swift that he can beat
anything on the prairie out of sight in a five-mile race.”
Bob, who was not at all disturbed by the knowledge that the grocer and
his friends suspected him of being anything but an honest boy, walked
back to his seat at the table and helped himself to another egg. A few
seconds later the men entered the store and Bob heard the clerk inquire:
“Well, Tom, is it your horse?”
“No; but he looks enough like him to be his brother,” was the reply.
“There!” said Bob, to himself. “I hope they are satisfied now.”
“Don’t make no difference whether it’s Tom’s hoss or not,” said a voice,
which Bob afterward found belonged to the constable. “That thar boy is
no good; if he was, he would not want to turn that creetur loose to find
his way back to his hum, twenty-five miles away. Bein’ a suspicioned
person we have a right to know all about him. You say, Aleck, that he
come up here to see somebody on business. Who was it, an’ what was his
business?”
“I dunno,” answered the grocer. “I didn’t think to ask him about that.”
“Wal, we’d best find out about it. Thar’s some hoss-thief or another
some whar about here, an’ if this chap is the feller, we’d oughter hold
fast to him now that we have got him. It won’t be no trouble at all to
take him back to Rochdale an’ see if anybody thar knows him, an’ if he’s
all right he won’t mind goin’ there with me.”
These were the words that made Bob’s cheek blanch. His heart began to
beat rapidly, and his hand trembled, as he put down his cup of coffee.
He saw, now, that it was not so very amusing, after all, to be suspected
of being a horse-thief. He certainly would mind going back to Rochdale.
It was the very place that he wanted to keep away from.
“What in the world would I say to my father, if I allowed myself to be
taken back there?” thought Bob, who was now seriously alarmed. “What
_could_ I say to him? What reason could I give for leaving home during
the night, and riding off through the country for twenty-five miles? I
tell you, if I was only back there, I’d stay; but the trouble is, I
can’t go back without letting everybody know that I ran away. Of course,
all the folks in the settlement will find it out some day, but I don’t
want to see them after they do find it out.”
Once more Bob was in a quandary, but he was not long in discovering, as
he thought, a way to get out of it. While he was looking all around the
room, as if seeking some way of escape, his eye fell upon his valise,
which the grocer had placed upon a chair in the corner. The sight of it
suggested something to him. Hastily snatching up his cap, he crossed the
floor with noiseless steps, seized the valise, and hurried to the door
which led into the back yard. He opened it very carefully, stepped
quickly across the threshold, and found himself confronted by a tall
fellow, dressed in butternut clothes, who stood leaning against the
fence, whittling the top rail with his knife, and whistling, softly, to
himself. Something told Bob that the man had been stationed there to
watch him, and, at first, he did not know whether to go back into the
house or keep on toward the stable, where he had left his horse; but,
after a moment’s reflection, he decided that the boldest course was the
best, and so he closed the door and walked off. He tried to look
unconcerned, but his face was pale, and he trembled in every limb. The
sequel proved that he had cause for uneasiness, for, before he had made
a dozen steps, the man of the fence called out:
“Wal, I say! Hold up, thar!”
Bob’s first impulse was, to take to his heels, but he thought better of
it, and obeyed the man’s command to “hold up!” “What do you want?” he
asked.
“Wal, nothing much, now, only we don’t want you to go away without
saying good-by; that’s all.”
“Why don’t you want me to go away?” asked Bob.
“’Kase why, for a reason. We want to know something about that hoss of
your’n first.”
“The proprietor of the store already knows all I have to tell about both
myself and my horse,” returned Bob.
“Wal, it don’t just suit us,” said the man, shutting up his knife and
putting it into his pocket. “The constable has been waiting for you to
get done your breakfast, and then he’s going to ride down to Rochdale
with you. If you live thar you must have friends who can vouch for you.”
“But I don’t want to go back to Rochdale,” exclaimed Bob. “It will delay
me, and I can’t afford to waste any time.”
“It needn’t delay you longer than to-morrow. Let’s go round where the
boys are.”
The “boys” were the idlers, whom Bob and his captor found sitting on the
dry-goods boxes in front of the store. One of them, a fat, red-faced,
jolly-looking man, arose from his seat as the boy came up, and, placing
one hand on his shoulder, remarked, that he should be obliged to hold
him, in the name of the law, until Bob could satisfy him that he was all
right, and that he had come honestly by the horse he had brought into
the settlement that morning. Bob hardly heard a word the officer said to
him, for he was too nearly overcome with bewilderment and alarm to hear
anything. Besides, he was thinking too busily; trying to conjure up some
plan for bringing himself safely out of this, the worst difficulty he
had ever been in. He had longed for a life of excitement and adventure,
but he had not looked for it to begin before he had been twelve hours
away from home. It looked, now, as though his first adventure was
destined to be his last. It certainly would be, if he allowed the
constable to take him back to Rochdale.
Having performed his duty, and placed Bob under arrest, the officer for
the next half hour paid no attention to his prisoner. He returned to his
seat on the dry-goods box, and talked with his friends about the crops
and the weather, leaving Bob to commune undisturbed with his own gloomy
thoughts, and to stand or sit, as he pleased. The idlers improved the
opportunity thus presented to stare hard at the supposed horse-thief,
and Bob was greatly relieved when the constable, having at last talked
himself dry of words, arose from his box with the remark, that he
reckoned they had better go home. Bob gladly obeyed the order to pick up
his valise and follow him; and as they walked toward the officer’s
house, which was located on the main road, about half a mile from the
landing, he began to make some inquiries regarding the treatment he
might expect: for this was a matter that troubled him not a little. To
his great joy and surprise, he found that, if he was willing to behave
himself, he would be placed under very little restraint. The constable
said he could not go to Rochdale with him that day, as he had some
important business of his own to attend to, but he would start with him
early in the morning, and, if Bob could prove to his satisfaction that
he was an honest traveller, as he represented himself to be, he would be
very glad of it. Meanwhile, as there was no “cooler” in the settlement
to put him into for safe-keeping, Bob must remain under the eye of the
constable all the time. If he would promise to make no attempt at
escape, he would be allowed the free use of his hands and feet; but, if
he would not make that promise, he (the officer) would be obliged to put
a pair of handcuffs on him. Bob’s blood ran cold at the mere mention of
such a thing. He hastened to give the required promise, adding emphasis
to it by declaring that the sooner he was allowed an opportunity to show
that the good people of Linwood were badly mistaken in him, the better
he would like it. The constable seemed entirely satisfied, and from that
moment scarcely looked at his prisoner. Probably he thought that,
because Bob was a boy, he had nothing to fear from him.
Bob accompanied the officer wherever he went during the day, but he did
so with apparent willingness and without wailing to be told. He spent
the most of the time in the woods, where the constable had some negroes
employed in getting out timber for him, and on two occasions the latter
went over a ridge where his ox-teams were at work, leaving Bob to
himself for more than an hour each time. “I wonder what he will do with
me when night comes,” Bob asked himself over and over again. “He must
watch me closer than he does now or I may be missing before daylight.
I’ll not go back to Rochdale if I can help it. I’ll risk anything
first.”
When Bob went to the officer’s house that night he was treated more like
a guest than a prisoner. The constable’s wife said nothing to indicate
that she knew he was under arrest, and when supper was over Bob was
surprised to hear the man remark that he believed he would go down to
the store for an hour or two, and see what was going on there. He went,
and did not return until nearly ten o’clock. Then he began to make some
preparations for the safe-keeping of his captive during the night, but
they did not amount to much, and Bob’s heart beat high with hope. The
officer simply drew a settee into the front room, and placed it opposite
the sofa, which stood on the other side of the fire-place. “I am going
to sleep here,” said he, “and when you get tired you can lie down
there.”
Suiting the action to the word the officer stretched himself upon the
settee, and in less than ten minutes was soundly asleep. Bob sat in an
easy-chair by the fire and looked at him; and as he looked he fell to
thinking of the wonderful exploits of some of his favorite heroes, and
comparing his present situation with those in which they had so often
been placed. They always succeeded in bringing themselves safely out of
the most desperate scrapes. Even when they were tied to the stake by
their savage foes, they found means to outwit them and effect their
escape. Wild Bill and Texas Jack would laugh to find themselves in a
predicament like this Bob was in, and if he was ever going to be as
famous as those two men were, it was high time he was making a
beginning. While Bob’s thoughts ran along in this channel he narrowly
watched the slumbering officer, and finally calling all his courage to
his aid, he picked up his hat and valise, opened the door, and stepped
out on the porch. There he paused for a moment to make sure that the way
was clear, and then, after taking a parting glance at the constable, he
closed the door and ran toward the landing. It was after eleven o’clock,
and the streets were entirely deserted.
A few minutes’ rapid running brought Bob to the store. Here he became
very cautious in his movements, for he knew that the grocer and his
family occupied the rear portion of the building. He climbed over the
bars through which he had led his horse in the morning, and made his way
toward the shed at the end of the lot. He found his horse there, and the
animal appeared to be glad to see him, for he welcomed him with a low
whinny of recognition.
“I never expected to mount you again, old fellow; but you must carry me
a little farther on my way up the river, and then you must go home. I
wish I could go with you,” said Bob, who was more than satisfied with
his short experience with the ways of the world. “If I could only go
back without letting folks know that I ran away, I’d start this minute.”
While Bob was talking thus to himself he was busy putting the saddle and
bridle on his horse; and when that had been done, he opened his valise
and took from it a suit of clothes, which he proceeded to put on with
all possible haste. He knew that his flight would be taken as evidence
of guilt, and that every effort would be made to recapture him; so he
thought it best to disguise himself as well as he could by putting on
another hat and exchanging his gray suit for a black one.
“I am going to get as many miles away from Linwood as I can between this
and daylight,” said Bob to himself, “and then, as I can’t disguise my
horse, I’ll turn him loose, and go on to the next landing on foot.
Hallo! what’s that?”
Bob happened to be looking through the stable door toward the shed on
the bank under which the bags of corn were stored, and saw a bright
flame suddenly arise from behind it. Wondering what could be the cause
of it, he stepped to the door to take a nearer view, and distinctly
heard the pounding made by the paddle-wheels of an approaching steamer.
“It is a signal,” thought he. “There is a boat coming up, and the owner
of that corn wants her to land and take it aboard. Now, if I can get on
to her deck without being recognised I shall be all right.”
The approach of the steamer brought about a change in Bob’s programme.
He hastily finished dressing himself, bundled the clothes he had taken
off into his valise, and seizing his horse by the bridle led him around
the stable out of sight of the house. There he found a low fence which
ran between the yard and an adjoining field. His horse easily jumped
over it, and Bob led him toward the nearest piece of woods, looking back
now and then to make sure that he was keeping the stable between himself
and any one who might happen to be passing along the road toward the
landing. When the dark shadows of the trees hid him from view, he turned
toward the road, threw down a portion of the fence, and led his horse
through the gap. Just then the hoarse whistle of the steamer indicated
that her pilot had seen the signal fire.
“Good-by, Jack,” said Bob, choking down something that seemed to be
rising in his throat, and patting the horse’s glossy neck as he spoke.
“I am sorry I have abused you, Jack, and thought so little of you
because you are not handsome and stylish like Don Gordon’s pony. I wish
I could take back every blow I ever struck you. If I could go back with
you, old fellow, you would have better treatment than you ever had
before; but I must leave you now, and you must find your way home as
best you can.”
Bob, however, did not leave the horse then nor for half an hour
afterward. He could not bear to part with him. He led him into the
bushes out of sight of the road, took off his bridle, so that he could
eat on the way home if he became hungry, and then stood with his arm
around the animal’s neck and his cheek resting against his mane. In the
meantime the steamer came up to the landing and began taking on the
freight that was stored under the shed. Presently the sound of her bell
awoke Bob from his reverie.
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