CHAPTER XVI.

JOSHUA TRIES KEEPING STORE.

The more Joshua thought it over, the more convinced he was that a large

sum of money was likely to come to him through the lottery, if he could

only manage to raise money enough to buy a ticket. But the problem of

how to get the necessary five dollars he was as far as ever from

solving.

While in this state of mind he happened one day to be in the store at

noon, and alone. Nichols, the head clerk, wished to go to dinner, and

was only waiting for Walter to get back from an errand.

"I wish Walter would hurry up," he grumbled. "My dinner will get cold."

"I'll take your place till he gets back, Mr. Nichols," said Joshua, with

extraordinary kindness for him.

[Illustration]

"Much obliged, Joshua," said the salesman. "I'll do as much for you

another time. I don't think you'll have long to wait."

"You'd better hurry off," said Joshua. "I'd just as lief wait as not."

"I never knew him so accommodating before," thought Nichols, with a

feeling of surprise.

He seized his hat and hurried away.

No sooner had he gone than Joshua, after following him to the door, and

looking carefully up and down the street, walked behind the counter with

a hasty step, and opened the money-drawer.

There was a small pile of bills in one compartment, and in the other a

collection of currency. He took the bills into his hand, and looked over

them. His hands trembled a little, for he contemplated a dishonest act.

Unable to obtain the money in any other way, he meant to borrow (that

was what he called it) five dollars from the money-drawer, and expend it

in a lottery ticket.

Singling out a five-dollar bill from the pile, he thrust it into his

vest-pocket. He had scarcely done so when he was startled by hearing the

door open. He made a guilty jump, but perceived, to his relief, that it

was a woman not living in the village, but probably in some adjoining

town.

"What can I show you, ma'am?" he asked, in a flurried manner, for he

could not help thinking of what he had in his vest-pocket.

"I should like to look at some of your shawls," said the woman.

Joshua knew very little about his father's stock. He did know, however,

where the shawls were kept, and going to that portion of the shelves,

pulled down half a dozen and showed them to his customer.

"Are they all wool?" she asked, critically examining one of them.

"Yes," answered Joshua, confidently, though he had not the slightest

knowledge on the subject.

"What is the price of this one?" asked the customer, indicating the one

she had in her hand.

"Five dollars," answered Joshua, with some hesitation. He knew nothing

of the price, but guessed that this would be about right.

"And you say it is all wool?"

"Certainly, ma'am."

"I guess I'll take it. Will you wrap it up for me?"

This Joshua did awkwardly enough, and the customer departed, much

pleased with her bargain, as she had a right to be, for the real price

of the shawl was nine dollars, but, thanks to Joshua's ignorance, she

had been able to save four.

Joshua looked at the five-dollar bill he had just received, and a new

idea occurred to him. He replaced in the drawer the bill he had

originally taken from it, and substituted that just received.

"I won't say anything about having sold a shawl," he said, "and

father'll never know that one has been sold. At any rate, not till I get

money enough to replace the bill I have taken."

Just then a little girl came in and inquired for a spool of cotton.

Joshua found the spools, and let her select one.

"How much is it?" asked the young customer.

"Ten cents."

"Mother told me it wouldn't be but six."

"Very well, if that is all you expect to pay, you shall have it for

that."

"Thank you, sir;" and the little girl departed with her purchase.

Joshua now hurriedly folded up the shawls and replaced them on the

shelves. He had just finished the task when Walter entered.

"Are you tending store?" he said, in surprise.

"Yes," said Joshua. "Nichols got tired waiting for you, so I told him

I'd stay till you got back."

"I had some distance to go, and that detained me. Did you have any

customers?"

"Yes, I just sold a spool of cotton to a little girl."

"I met her a little way up the road, holding the spool in her hand."

"Well," said Joshua, "I guess I'll go, now you've got back."

He went across the street to his father's house, and, going up into his

own room, locked the door, not wishing to be interrupted. Then, opening

his desk, he took out a sheet of paper, and wrote a note to the address

given in his lottery circular, requesting the parties to send him by

return of mail a lottery ticket. He added, shrewdly as he thought, "If

this ticket draws a prize, I will keep on buying; but if it don't I

shall get discouraged and stop."

"I guess that'll fetch 'em," thought Joshua. He folded up the paper,

and, inclosing the bill, directed it.

The next thing to do was to mail it.

Now this seemed a very simple thing, but it really occasioned

considerable trouble. The postmaster in a small village can generally

identify many of the correspondents who send letters through his office

by their handwriting. He knew Joshua's, and such a letter as this would

attract his attention and set him to gossiping. Considering the

circumstances under which he obtained the money, this was hardly

desirable, and Joshua therefore decided, though unwillingly, on account

of the trouble, to walk to the next post-office, a distance of three

miles, and post his letter there.

He came downstairs with his letter in his pocket. "Where are you going,

Joshua?" asked his mother.

"Going out to walk," said Joshua, shortly.

"I wanted to send a little bundle to Mr. Faulkner's, but that is too

far off."

"I'll carry it," said Joshua.

Mrs. Drummond was astonished at this unusual spirit of accommodation,

for Joshua was, in general, far from obliging. The truth was, however,

that, though Mr. Faulkner lived over a mile and a quarter distant, it

was on his way to the post-office.

"Thank you, Joshua," said Mrs. Drummond. "I was afraid you wouldn't be

willing to go so far."

"I feel just like taking a long walk to-day, mother."

"Here is the bundle. I will bake a little pie for you while you are

gone."

So things seemed to be working very smoothly for Joshua, and he set out

on his three-mile walk in very good spirits. His walk he knew would make

him hungry, and the pie which his mother promised him would be very

acceptable on his return.

Arrived in front of Mr. Faulkner's, he saw Frank Faulkner, a boy of

twelve, playing outside.

"Frank," called out Joshua, "here's a bundle I want you to carry into

the house. Tell your folks my mother sent it."

"All right," said Frank, and he carried it in.

Joshua proceeded on his way, and finally reached the post-office.

"Give me a three-cent postage-stamp," he said to the postmaster.

This was speedily affixed to the letter, and, after resting a short

time, he set out on his walk homeward.

Reaching the house of Mr. Faulkner, he was hailed by Frank, who was

still playing outside.

"Where have you been, Joshua?"

Joshua was not desirous of having it known where he had been, and he

answered, in the surly manner characteristic of him, "What business is

that of yours?"

"Where did you learn manners?" asked Frank, who was a sturdy scion of

Young America, and quite disposed to stand up for his rights.

"If you're impudent, I'll give you a licking," growled Joshua.

"Next time you come along this way, you may take in your own bundles,"

retorted Frank.

"If I had a stick, I'd give you something you wouldn't like."

"You'd have to catch me first," said Frank.

Joshua's temper, which was none of the sweetest, was by this time

roused, and he started in pursuit of Frank, but the younger boy dodged

so adroitly as to baffle his pursuit. In attempting to catch him,

indeed, Joshua stubbed his toe violently against a projecting root, and

measured his length by the roadside.

"Who's down, I wonder?" asked Frank, scrambling over the fence, where he

felt safe.

"I'll wring your neck some time, you young imp!" exclaimed Joshua,

gathering himself up slowly and painfully, and shaking his fist

vindictively at Frank.

"I'll wait till you're ready," returned Frank. "I'm in no hurry."

At length Joshua reached home, feeling tired and provoked, but

congratulating himself that he had taken the first step towards the

grand prize which loomed in dazzling prospect before his eyes.

Strong and Steady; Or, Paddle Your Own Canoe · 第 16 / 37 章