The weeks that had elapsed between the confession of Bagsley and the
reception of the important document from the Governor of Massachusetts
had hung heavily on Budd's hands. He chafed under the legal
technicalities that seemed to be constantly arising to delay a result
that he knew was inevitable, and which he thought ought to come
immediately. Still his hope sustained him, and with his partner he
attended strictly to the work in which they were engaged.
Business, too, accumulated upon their hands. The notoriety they had
achieved in capturing the burglars had made it quite the thing to
patronize the young firm, and from every side there poured into them an
increase of trade. The summer hotels along the bay found it quite to
their interest to announce that the fish upon their tables came directly
from the pounds of Boyd & Floyd. Sailing and fishing-parties sought
eagerly for the services of the lads and their sloop Sea Witch, that had
such a romantic history. So night and day the young firm were busy, and
their bank account grew apace.
But there was another work during these weeks that claimed Budd's
attention. Believing that his father would prefer to come back to the
island with him, and make a temporary home there until their plans for
the future could be arranged, he spent all his spare moments in making
his island home more attractive.
Mr. Johnson had on the day he had accompanied the lad up to the county
jail returned to him the five hundred dollars he had paid that gentleman
the previous March, and, along with that sum, its accumulated interest.
A portion of this money Budd now spent for carpets and furniture.
The bedroom down-stairs, and which he and Judd had always occupied, was
refurnished expressly for Mr. Boyd. The furniture which had been in
there was carried upstairs, where a room was fixed for the lads.
Another room upstairs was also furnished with a bedroom set, and it was
Budd himself who gave a reason for doing it:
"It is for your father, Judd, when he comes from the State Farm. We'll
bring him over here, where he'll be away from temptation, and try and
make a man of him;" and Judd thanked his chum for the suggestion with
glistening eyes.
Other arrangements were also made about the house and grounds, in which
Budd was ably seconded by his partner, and on the October morning that
the Governor's pardon came everything was in readiness for Mr. Boyd's
coming.
That afternoon's train carried Budd to Boston. He arrived in the city
too late to visit the prison that day, but having expected this, he was
in no sense disappointed. In fact he had come to the city at this time
purposely, for he had a few items of business to transact before he
visited his father, and they could be attended to while he waited for
the coming morning, which at the earliest possible hour he had
determined should see his father's liberation. These items of business
are of interest to us, and so we will follow him as he attends to them.
Hastening through to Washington Street with the pace of one who knew
just where he was going, he hurried down that street until he reached a
large tailoring establishment. Entering this, he asked for the
proprietor, and was immediately shown to the private office.
Introducing himself with the air of one who was expected, he asked:
"You have, of course, received and filled my order?"
"Yes sir," said the gentleman, pleasantly, and pointing to a handsome
valise and a large package at one side of the office. "In that valise
you will find shirts, collars, underwear, stockings, neckties, and a
medium suit of clothing. In the package is a handsome overcoat, a fine
Prince Albert suit, hat, shoes--in fact a complete outfit, and good
enough for any man. They will be sent to your hotel at the appointed
hour to-morrow, and we guarantee the fit, if your measures were
correct."
Budd thanked him, and then asked:
"Was the check I forwarded with the order sufficiently large in amount
to pay for everything?"
"Yes, and a little to spare. Here is the receipted bill and change that
the cashier sent here in anticipation of your coming. I had the bundles
brought here also, in case you should care to examine them."
"No, sir; I rely upon your judgment," replied the lad. "You may send
the packages to me to-night, however, at the United States Hotel;" and
he took his leave.
He now walked down to the hotel he had named, and registering his name,
was shown to a room.
Before the supper-hour the packages had arrived from the tailoring
establishment, and were at his request sent up to his room. He now
examined their contents, and his face glowed with satisfaction as he saw
how well his orders had been executed.
"Father need not be ashamed to call on the Governor himself with those
clothes on," he said softly to himself, not knowing they would be put to
that use.
When his supper was eaten he left the hotel and walked briskly off
toward the business quarter of the city again, and reaching the office
of a well-known daily paper, he entered and asked for the managing
editor. On the assurance that his business was important he was shown
up to that worthy's sanctum.
With no hesitation he told who he was, and the object of his visit to
Boston.
"My wish," he continued, "is to have your paper to-morrow kindly notice
my father's return to public life; and if you believe in his innocence,
do your part toward the vindication of his good name. I ask that you
will give as conspicuous a place in your paper to his release as you did
to his trial and conviction, and am willing to pay you for the space."
The editor laughed a little.
"You show your appreciation of the value of the press as a molder of
public sentiment," he then said. "But, my dear boy, Mr. Johnson has
preceded you in this request. The first page of every daily in this
city, to-morrow, will notice your father's release, and every editorial
page will comment upon and welcome his return to public life.
"Why shouldn't we?" he added, bluntly. "Mr. Johnson has paid handsomely
for it. He certainly is leaving no stone unturned to restore your
father to his old standing in the community. From the hour of Bagsley's
confession, for he telegraphed the fact here at once, he has seen to it
that every step toward your father's release has been duly noticed by
the public press."
Then the man, with a few inquiries as to Mr. Boyd's plans after his
release, dismissed his young visitor.
"I have no more offices to visit, then," Budd remarked on reaching the
street, "thanks to Mr. Johnson. I'll buy a copy of every paper
to-morrow, however, so father can see just what they do say."
He now turned his steps toward the quarter of the city where he had
formerly lived, and walked slowly over the familiar ground. Then he
went around by the school he had last attended, and gazed up at the
windows of the room where he used to sit. His thoughts now turned
toward his former acquaintances and friends, and he felt a little
pardonable exultation as he remembered how, at every breakfast-table of
the city, on the following morning, his father's innocence would be
discussed.
"I am not sure," he admitted to himself, as he walked back toward his
hotel, "but that I should be glad to come back here and take up the old
life--if," he added, after a brief pause, "Judd could only come with
me."
And though he did not know it then, that very thing was to eventually
happen.
Not far from half-past eight o'clock the next morning Budd put his
packages into a hack, and entering it, gave the order to the driver:
"Go over to the State Prison in Charlestown."
With a peculiar look at his young passenger the driver mounted his box
and drove away. A half-hour or so later he stopped at the massive
entrance of the institution named, and Budd alighted. Requesting the
hackman to remain until his return, he took up his bundles and went into
the warden's office.
Upon showing the official document of the Governor to the clerk in
waiting he politely requested Budd to take a seat while he went to call
his superior officer. The warden soon entered, and telling Budd he had
expected him, he led the way into the prison building. Down one
corridor and into another they went, the heart of the lad beating loudly
as he drew nearer to the father he had not seen for months. Suddenly
the warden stopped before a cell and unlocked the door.
"You may enter and break the news to your father," he said to Budd in a
low voice. "A little later I will send a man for you, and you and your
father can come down to the office, where there is a dressing-room which
he can use to get ready for his departure."
With these words he motioned the lad to enter the cell; then he gently
closed the door, without locking it, and hurried away, leaving father
and son alone. Surely nothing ever became him better.
As Budd entered the cell, his father arose from the stool on which he
was sitting, and with a glad cry came toward him. The next instant they
were in each other's arms, and sobbing on each other's shoulders. But
the tears they shed were tears of joy, for Mr. Boyd had rightly
conjectured that his son's presence meant his immediate release, and
though not entirely unexpected, yet it still came with sufficient
suddenness to move him to tears.
Soon they both grew calmer, and then Budd produced the Governor's
pardon, and related to his father the story of its coming, and the
Governor's suggestion that had accompanied it. He then produced a
half-dozen morning papers, and pointed out to his father the flaming
announcements of his release, and the editorial notes of welcome that
signaled his return to public life.
"You need not be ashamed to go anywhere in the city, father," the lad
exclaimed, triumphantly; "and I have brought you clothing fit for a
king. A home is ready for you, too, where you can rest awhile and plan
for the future. There is the man's step outside, now, who has been sent
up for us; so come."
Leaning proudly on the arm of his boy, who had accomplished so much, Mr.
Boyd walked down to the office, where the warden kindly greeted him, and
the few details essential to his release were attended to. Then he was
shown into an adjacent dressing-room where the packages Budd had brought
had already been carried, and from this he emerged a half-hour later
looking, as the happy boy declared, "Just like his own father."
Budd now took up the valise that contained Mr. Boyd's spare clothing,
and telling his father the carriage was in waiting, started for the
door.
"One moment, Mr. Boyd," the warden said. "Here is a note the Governor
has sent here for you."
In surprise, Mr. Boyd took the note and hastily opened it. There was
but a brief line.
EXECUTIVE MANSION, October 5th.
_Mr. Henry Boyd and Son:_--You are both requested to dine with me at two
o'clock this afternoon, where you will meet some old and some new
friends.
THE GOVERNOR.
It was with emotions no words can express that both father and son
entered their carriage and were driven off to their hotel. Never had
the sun shone so brightly; never had the autumn foliage looked half so
beautiful; never had the old, familiar streets and buildings seemed so
dear. In their very happiness they were silent until nearly to their
destination; then Mr. Boyd broke the silence by saying, tremulously:
"Oh, Budd! if your mother only knew of my vindication! If she had only
lived to see this day!"
"She does know of it," replied Budd, simply.
"I believe it; and, like myself, she is proud of her boy;" and Mr. Boyd
looked lovingly down into the face of his son.
The dinner at the Executive mansion was a simple affair, the Governor
seeming to understand Mr. Boyd's feelings in this respect. There were
there the members of the Executive Council; the Judge who had presided
at Mr. Boyd's trial; Mr. Johnson; Mr. Boyd's lawyer, and a half-dozen
prominent business men that Mr. Boyd had been accustomed to meet in
other days. They all congratulated him warmly upon his established
innocence, and assured him of their friendship and help when he had
decided upon his future business plans.
He thanked them all for their expressions of kindness, but added, with
evident pride:
"My son has a home for me, and there I will go for the present."
At four o'clock he and Budd left the city; at five they were in
Providence, and at six they were at their village depot, where they were
met by Judd. Ten minutes later they were on the Sea Witch, bound for
the island.
As they reached their own wharf Mr. Boyd stepped out of the boat and
looked around him. Then he said tenderly, almost reverently:
"This is your home, Budd, and my home, now--inexpressibly dear, because
of what my boy has here proved himself to be."
Later on, and when reclining in an easy-chair beside the sitting-room
fire, he heard in detail the experiences through which the lads had
passed. The young partners sat where he could look them both full in the
face. Possibly their strong likeness to each other may have suggested
the question, for he abruptly asked:
"Judd, what is your father's name?"
"Silas Torr Floyd," answered the wondering boy.
"And your mother's?"
"Helen Budd, before she was married," replied Judd. "That is one reason
why I thought Budd's name so funny when I first heard it."
"You are, then, cousins," was Mr. Boyd's astonishing declaration.
"How do you make that out, sir?" the lads exclaimed in one breath.
"My wife and your mother, Judd, were sisters," explained Mr. Boyd.
"They were married about the same time, and used to joke each other
about one having married a Boyd and the other a Floyd. When Budd was
born his mother gave him her surname for his Christian name; and when, a
few weeks later, Judd was born, his mother laughingly gave him the
Christian name he bears, saying she would make it as near like Budd's as
possible.
"We soon separated, I moving into Boston, and Judd's father going West.
For a time we kept up a correspondence, but it grew less and less
frequent, and finally entirely ceased. But your parents must have
returned East, Judd, and I cannot understand why they did not
communicate with me, unless your mother's pride was such that she did
not wish us to know her husband had become a drunkard."
"I think that is it," said Judd, thoughtfully; "for whenever I asked
about her relatives, she never would tell me anything about them."
The newly-discovered relationship was discussed for a time, and facts
and dates were brought forward to substantiate it. Then Judd said, with
much the same grimace he had used months before:
"I told you some time ago, Budd, that we were second-rate twins, and now
it has turned out that we are first-rate cousins!"