LEON MAKES UP HIS MIND.
"Your father couldn't have come here at a worse time, could he?" said
Leon, at length.
He was disappointed rather than angry. His uncle had formed some very
elaborate plans for his enjoyment, and also Frank's, and they had
knocked them all on the head by running away from school.
It was Mr. Fuller's intention to cross the plains on horseback (the
Pacific Railroad was not in existence at the time these incidents
happened) and return by steamer.
The boys would have been delighted by a trip like this, and they might
have gone had it not been for their one act of folly. Frank showed a
disposition to smash things when he thought about it, but Leon felt
more like crying.
"His coming here made no difference. He would have found out all
about it, sooner or later, for your father would have written him full
particulars. But I don't care!" said Frank, who continued to stride up
and down the room, shaking his fists in the air. "I am going to clear
out, and if you have any pluck at all, you will do the same."
Leon placed his elbows on his knees, fastened his eyes upon the floor,
and made no immediate reply.
He had talked very glibly about leaving his comfortable home and
going out into the world to make himself famous as a hunter and
Indian-fighter, but in dreaming about it he had always skipped the
preliminaries.
How he was going to leave home and make his way to that pleasant valley
in the mountains in which he intended to build his cabin, he did not
know, nor did he care to trouble himself about it.
Some boys, as we know, make great calculations, and have much to say
about the fame they expect to win, when they are established in some
business or profession and have plenty of money at their disposal, but
they make no note of the long hours that must be spent in study and
hard work before they can attain to the desired eminence.
So with Leon. He sometimes spent half the night going through imaginary
fights with grizzly bears, Indians, and outlaws, and picturing to
himself the delight that would be his when he was fairly settled in
his mountain-home; but he did not like to dwell upon the thought that,
before all this could be accomplished, he must sneak away from his
father's house like a thief in the night, and make a long journey by
rail and steam-boat before he would be anywhere within reach of his
hunting-grounds.
But now these matters were brought squarely home to him, and it was
high time he was bestowing some thought upon them.
"You don't seem to be very enthusiastic," said Frank, suddenly pausing
in his walk and looking sharply at his cousin. "No longer ago than this
morning you talked as though you were crazy to get away from home and
become your own master!"
"I wish I could see that western country before I go there to live,"
said Leon. "I don't know anything about it."
"Well, how are you going to find out anything about it until you go
there?" asked Frank. "And how are you going to get there unless you
pack up and start off on your own hook? My father will not take you, or
me either. How much money have you got in the bank?"
"Six hundred dollars," replied Leon.
"Whew!" whistled Frank, opening his eyes in great amazement. "That will
take us to Independence with flying colors. After we get there we'll
buy a couple of saddle-horses and a pack-mule, and then we'll be all
right; we'll not ask favors of anybody."
"But how will we know which way to go?" asked Leon.
"Oh, we'll look for a wagon-train; that's the way the most of the
emigrants do. If we can't find one, we'll start off by ourselves. We
can't get lost, for the trails are as plain as the road in front of the
house."
"But the Indians might find us," suggested Leon.
"What's the matter with you, anyhow?" demanded Frank sharply. "If you
don't want to go, say so at once, and I'll start off by myself. The
Indians won't bother us until we get where they are, will they? There
are none along these trails of which I speak. Why, as early as 1856,
travelling there was perfectly safe. Have you never heard of the two
thousand Mormons who walked and pushed hand-carts all the way from Iowa
City to Salt Lake? They were often attacked by wolves--we shouldn't
mind the wolves, you know; a few fights with them would relieve the
monotony of our journey--but the history of that expedition doesn't say
that they ever saw an Indian."
When Leon heard this, he straightened up and began to take some
interest in what his cousin was saying; but it is probable that his
interest would have died away again very speedily if he had been told
something of the history of those hand-cart expeditions.
It is thirteen hundred miles from Iowa City to Salt Lake Valley, and
it requires fifteen weeks of constant travelling to accomplish the
distance.
Of the first division of five hundred Mormons, who left Iowa City in
July to trundle their hand-carts to Salt Lake, one hundred and twenty
perished miserably before reaching their destination.
Their cattle starved or died from overwork, their provisions gave out,
winter overtook them while they were still five hundred miles from the
valley, and it was no uncommon thing for them to wake up in the morning
and find from three to fifteen of their number cold in death.
Of the second company of six hundred, which left the Missouri in
August, only four hundred and fifty reached the valley; and out of the
whole number--two thousand--three hundred were starved, frozen, or
devoured by wolves, and two hundred were maimed for life.
Frank knew all this, for he had read a full account of it; but it did
not daunt him, for he believed that in some mysterious way he would be
able to escape the perils that fell to the lot of other travellers on
the plains.
"I'll not say a word to Leon about the dangers they encountered,"
soliloquized Frank, "for if I do, it will take all the pluck out of
him. He hasn't even courage enough to run away from a tyrant of a
father--I can see that plainly enough; but as I am determined to go
myself, and he has money, while I have none to speak of, I must get
him interested in the matter. Now, how am I going to do it? That's the
question."
Frank, relapsing into silence, placed his hands behind his back and
resumed his walk up and down the room, turning the question over in his
mind. If he had only known it, there was no need that he should trouble
himself about the matter, for that very night an incident happened that
turned the scale in his favor.
While he was wondering what he could say that would induce his cousin
to fall in with his wild scheme, the supper-bell rang.
The truants would have been glad of an excuse for disregarding the
summons, but knowing that if they did not answer it immediately,
somebody would come upstairs to see about it, they made a hasty toilet
and descended to the dining room.
To their great relief, nothing was said or done to indicate that
anything had gone wrong that day. Their fathers had had a settlement
with them, and that was the end of the matter.
They were treated with as much consideration as they usually were, but
Frank grew angry again when his father talked about the mines in which
he was interested, and described the wonders which he expected to see
during his absence.
Frank finished his supper as soon as he could, and then gave his cousin
a wink, which the latter understood.
As they asked to be excused, and arose from the table, Mr. Parker
turned from his brother-in-law, with whom he was conversing, and said
to his son:
"Leon, don't go away to-night."
"No, sir," replied the boy. "Do you know what that means?" he added
angrily, when he and his cousin were safe in their room again. "It
means that my liberty is stopped--that I can't even go outside of the
gate any more until father says the word."
"Well, you're a fool if you stand it," replied Frank. "Make up your
mind to go with me, and then you can do as you please."
"My mind is made up!" exclaimed Leon, with a sudden burst of fury. "If
my gun wasn't locked up, I'd start to-night; and if I once get away,
I'll never set my foot in Eaton again."
"That gun is just what troubles me," replied Frank. "We can't get it
until my father goes away, because he or some of the family are always
in the sitting room. Does one key unlock every drawer in that bookcase?"
Leon replied that it did.
"Then we needn't worry. I have often seen the key left in the doors
of the bookcase, and when we get ready to start, we'll have that gun
out of there. All we've got to do is to watch our chance and slip into
the library some night when the sitting room is empty. Where is your
bank-book?"
"In mother's bureau."
"Have you got pluck enough to steal it out of there?"
"Yes, I have," answered Leon, with more spirit than his cousin had ever
seen him exhibit before.
"Well, after you get it, will you go to the bank and draw your money?"
"Yes, I will. I'm not going to be deprived of all privileges and shut
up as if I were a felon."
"That's the way to talk," said Frank, giving his cousin an approving
slap on the back. "I was mistaken in you. You have some courage, after
all."
Frank was satisfied now. If he could only keep his cousin in an angry
mood, he was sure of money enough to defray his expenses to the plains.
It was not so very difficult to do this, for events seemed to conspire
to assist them.