NEWS FROM CALIFORNIA
"Well, I wonder what I am to do next?"
It was Mark who asked himself that question. He was sitting in one of
the public parks of the city. He had walked rapidly for the best part
of an hour and was almost exhausted.
"I'll bet Mr. Powers is as mad as sixteen hornets," he mused. "He will
want to skin me alive--if he catches me. But he isn't going to catch me
just yet. I'd rather run away than fall into his clutches! How he did
glare at me when I threw down those documents! I rather guess I'd best
not go back."
Mark sat still for a few minutes and then heaved a deep sigh. Never had
he felt so utterly alone as now. He had no relatives to turn to in his
troubles.
"What's the matter; out of a job?" asked a man sitting by. He had heard
Mark sigh.
"Not exactly," answered the boy, and to avoid being questioned
further, he arose and moved away.
He walked through the park and a little later found himself standing in
front of a newspaper office.
"All about the news from Californy!" cried a newsboy with a bundle
of papers. "Millions of dollars bein' picked up! People going by the
thousands to the gold fields!"
"Give me a paper!" cried Mark, without stopping to think twice. He
handed out the price and then began to look at the news from the Far
West. It was most alluring, and many stopped on the streets to read all
the details.
"Wisht I could go to Californy!" said the newsboy to Mark. "Pickin' up
gold is better'n sellin' papers, ain't it?"
"I should say so!" answered Mark, and moved on slowly. "Maybe I'll go!"
he continued.
"Wish yer luck," returned the newsboy, gayly, and darted off to dispose
of the rest of his papers.
The news was certainly fascinating, and it is small wonder that it
caused such wild excitement. Rich and poor alike read the wonderful
accounts, and day after day men streamed westward overland, or departed
by vessel for Panama, or for the longer trip around Cape Horn.
"What a trip it would be!" murmured Mark, after the reading of the
account was finished. "I declare, I do feel like going. And what's to
hinder me?"
He straightened up and a strange look filled his face. Mark was
naturally impulsive, but when he made up his mind to do a thing he
usually did it.
"Mr. Powers doesn't care for me, and there is nothing to hold me back,"
he told himself. "Yes, I might as well go! The first people on the
ground are sure to get the richest nuggets! Who knows but what I may
make my fortune! Ho, for the West!"
A smile of enthusiasm broke out on his face and he quickened his pace.
But then he grew thoughtful. He had only seven dollars that he could
call his own and six dollars of the amount was at his home, two miles
away.
"I'd better get my money and some clothes before Mr. Powers goes home,"
he reasoned. "If he catches me, there'll be too much music to suit me!"
In those days there were no trolley cars, only dingy stages running to
where Mark wished to go. He hopped aboard one of these, paid his fare,
and was soon set down at the right corner.
"Why, you are back early, Master Mark," said the housekeeper, who saw
him enter.
"Yes, Mrs. Nason. I'm going on a journey. Mr. Powers hasn't got back
yet, has he?"
"No, I don't expect him before his regular time, half-past six."
The housekeeper wanted to question him further, but he ran up to his
room. He had a valise which had belonged to his mother, and into this
he placed such clothing as he wished to take along. Then he brought out
his money, a watch that had been his father's, and some jewelry that
had belonged to Mrs. Radley.
"I may have to sell some of those things before I reach the Land of
Gold," he thought. "But I'll not dispose of them until I actually have
to."
When he went below, he found the housekeeper waiting for him.
"So you are going on a journey," she said. "May I ask where to, Master
Mark?"
"I'm sorry, but I cannot tell you," he answered, briefly. "To tell the
truth, Mrs. Nason, I don't want my step-father to know."
"Oh!" The housekeeper grew doubly interested. "Do you mean to say you
are going to run away?"
"I don't think I'll run very much."
"You must have had another quarrel."
"We are quarreling all the time. I can't stand his ways, Mrs. Nason."
"I don't blame you, Master Mark. He is a terrible hard man to get along
with. Maybe he means well, but, but----"
"If he does, he doesn't show it. I must be off, for I don't want to
meet him. Good-by." He held out his hand.
"Good-by, and good-luck, no matter where you go! But you must come back
some day! The property is yours, remember that!"
"Oh, I'll remember, and I'll come back," answered Mark, and gave her a
smile.
"And one thing more, Master Mark," the housekeeper continued, in a
lower tone. "If you need money, I have some saved, and----"
"Thank you, Mrs. Nason, you are very kind. But I don't want any but my
own."
"If you do, write, and I'll send you some," she continued.
"Thank you very much."
"And if you get into trouble, let me know, and I'll do what I can for
you."
"Perhaps I'll send you a letter some day. But you mustn't show it to
Mr. Powers."
"I'll do as you wish, Master Mark."
Mark put on his cap and turned towards the front door. Soon he was
outside and hurrying towards the front gate. As he opened it he found
himself face to face with his step-father.
"Ha! I thought you might be here!" roared Jadell Powers. "I've caught
you nicely!" He grabbed the youth by the arm. "What are you doing with
that bag?"
"It's my bag, and I am going away!" retorted Mark. "Let go of me!"
"Let go? Not much, young man! I have caught you red-handed!"
"I don't know what you mean by red-handed," said Mark, doggedly. "I am
going away and that is all there is to it. You shan't stop me!"
"If you talk like that, do you know what I'll do?" stormed Jadell
Powers. "I'll hand you over to the police!"
"You have no right to do that."
"Yes, I have!"
"You have not. I have done no wrong. You want to make a regular slave
of me, but I won't stand it. I'm going to strike out for myself."
"Tut! tut, a fine way for a boy of your age to speak! You ought to be
in a--a reformatory this minute! This is what I get for trying to make
a man of you!"
"I don't want to be a lawyer, and I'm not going to copy legal documents
all day long," answered Mark, as determinedly as ever.
"You'll be what I want you to be!"
"It takes two to make a bargain, Mr. Powers. Ever since my mother died
you have tried to rule over me with a rod of iron. But I won't stand
it. I'm going away and I'll take care of myself, until I am of age.
Then I'll come back and claim what belongs to me."
"Humph!" The lawyer paused for a second. "Where do you calculate to
go?" he questioned, curiously.
"That is my business."
"Maybe you want to take that trip to the moon, or to California, eh?"
"I've heard there are good chances for a boy in New York and Boston,"
said Mark, to throw his step-father off the scent.
"Tut! tut! There are just as good chances right here in Philadelphia.
Remember the old saying, 'A rolling stone gathers no moss.'"
"I don't want to gather moss; I want to do as the rolling stone does,
get polished," answered Mark, grimly.
"If you stay in Philadelphia and behave yourself, I'll try my best to
make a man of you."
"Mr. Powers, we can't get along together--you know that as well as I
do. Ever since mother died we have quarreled. I can't stand it any
longer,--and so I am going away."
"Humph!"
"You can sneer if you wish--but I am going away,--and I'll do the best
I can for myself."
"Going away to have a good time, I suppose. As soon as your money is
gone you'll be back on my hands."
"No, I won't be back."
"Well, you shan't go away with my money," and now the lawyer tightened
his grip on his step-son's arm.
"Your money?" came from Mark. "What little I have is my own."
"Really?" And Jadell Powers' face took on a sour look.
"Yes, really. I've only got seven dollars, but every penny of that I
saved myself--out of the little spending money you allow me, and out of
what I got when I sold that old sled and pair of skates I had."
"Mark, you're a cute rascal, but your story won't hold water. You've
got three hundred dollars that belongs to me!"
"Three hundred dollars?" gasped the youth, in amazement.
"Yes, three hundred dollars--which you took from my safe this very
morning!" cried Jadell Powers. "I want you to hand the money over
instantly. If you don't, I'll call an officer of the law and have you
locked up!"