The people of Holston turned out in large numbers. Among the first to
appear was the old lady whom the professor had taken up on his way over.
"You're the boy that was so sassy to me this mornin'," she said, peering
at Harry through her spectacles.
"I didn't say a word to you," said Harry.
"I'm afraid you're tellin' fibs. I heerd you."
"It was the professor. He put the words in my mouth."
"Well, come to think on't the voice was different from yours. Then there
wa'n't nobody in the trunk?"
"No, ma'am," said Harry, smiling.
"It's wonderful, I declare for't. This is my darter, Mrs. Nehemiah
Babcock," continued the old lady. "Nancy, this is the ventriloquer's
boy. I thought he was sassy to me this mornin'; but he says he didn't
speak a word. How much is to pay?" said the old lady.
"I won't charge you anything," said Harry. "Professor Henderson told me,
if you came to let you in free, and any of your family."
"Really, now, that's very perlite of the professor," said the old lady.
"He's a gentleman if ever there was one. Do you hear, Nancy, we can go
in without payin' a cent. That's all on, account of your marm's being
acquainted with the professor. I'm glad I come."
The old lady and her party entered the hall, and being early, secured
good seats. Tom, her grandson, was glad to be so near, as he was
ambitious to assist the professor in case volunteers were called for.
"Will any young gentleman come forward and assist me in the next trick?"
asked the professor, after a while.
Tom started from his seat. His grandmother tried to seize him by the
coat but he was too quick for her.
"Oh, let him go," said his mother. "He won't come to any harm."
"Is this your first appearance as a magician?" asked the professor.
"Yes, sir," answered Tom, with a grin.
"Very good. I will get you to help me, but you mustn't tell anybody how
the tricks are done."
"No, sir, I won't."
"As I am going trust you with a little money, I want to ask you whether
you are strictly honest."
"Yes, sir."
"I am glad to hear it. Do you see this piece of gold?"
"Yes, sir."
"What is its value?"
"Ten dollars," answered Tom, inspecting it.
"Very good. I want you hold it for me. I give you warning that I mean to
make it pass out of you hand."
"I don't think you can do it, sir."
"Well, perhaps not. You look like a pretty sharp customer. It won't be
easy to fool you."
"You bet."
"Nancy," whispered the old lady to her daughter. "I hope you don't allow
Tom to talk so."
"Look, mother, see want he's going to do."
"What I propose to do," said the professor, "is to make that coin pass
into the box on the table. I may not be able to do it, as the young
gentleman is on his guard. However, I will try. Presto, change!"
"It didn't go," said Tom. "I've got it here."
"Have you? Suppose you open your hand."
Tom opened his hand.
"Well, what have you got? Is it the gold piece?"
"No sir," said Tom, astonished; "it's a cent."
"Then, sir, all I can say is, you have treated me badly. In order to
prevent my getting the gold piece into the box, you changed it into a
cent."
"No, I didn't," said Tom.
"Then perhaps I have succeeded, after all. The fact is, I took out the
gold piece and put a penny in its place, so that you might not know the
difference. Now here is the key of that box. Will you unlock it?"
Tom unlocked it, only to find another box inside. In fact, it was a
perfect nest of boxes. In the very last of all was found the gold coin.
"It's very strange you didn't feel it go out of your hand," said the
professor.
"I am afraid you are not quick enough to make a magician. Can you fire a
pistol?"
"Yes, sir," said Tom.
"Will any lady lend me a ring?" asked the professor.
One was soon found
"I will load the pistol," said the professor, "and put the ring in with
the rest of the charge. It appears to be rather too large. I shall have
to hammer it down."
He brought down a hammer heavily upon the ring and soon bent it
sufficiently to get it into the pistol.
"Now, sir," he said, "take the pistol, and stand off there. All right,
sir. When I give the word, I want you to fire. One, two, three!"
Tom fired, his grandmother uttering a half suppressed shriek at the
report. When the smoke cleared away, the professor was holding the ring
between his thumb and finger, quite uninjured.
Professor Henderson's attention had been drawn to his companion of the
morning. He observed that she had taken off her bonnet. He went up to
her, and said, politely, "Madam, will you kindly lend me your bonnet?"
"Massy sakes, what do you want of it?"
"I won't injure it, I assure you."
"You may take it, ef you want to," said the old lady; "but be keerful
and don't bend it."
"I will be very careful; but, madam," he said, in seeming surprise,
"what have you got in it?"
"Nothing, sir."
"You are mistaken. See there, and there, and there"; and he rapidly drew
out three onions, four turnips, and a couple of potatoes. "Really, you
must have thought you were going to market."
"They ain't mine," gasped the old lady.
"Then it's very strange how they got into your bonnet. And--let me
see--here's an egg, too."
"I never see sich doin's."
"Granny, I guess a hen made her nest in your bonnet," whispered Tom.
The old lady shook her head in helpless amazement.
CHAPTER XXVII. AN UNEXPECTED PAYMENT
A week later Harry reached a brisk manufacturing place which I will call
Centreville. He assisted the professor during the afternoon to get ready
the hall for his evening performance and, at half past five, took his
seat at the supper table in the village hotel.
Just as Harry began to eat, he lifted his eyes, and started in surprise
as he recognized, in his opposite neighbor, Luke Harrison, whose abrupt
departure without paying his debts the reader will remember. Under the
circumstances, it will not be wondered at that our hero's look was not
exactly cordial. As for Luke, he was disagreeably startled at Harry's
sudden appearance. Not knowing his connection with Professor Henderson,
he fancied that our hero was in quest of him and not being skilled in
the law, felt a little apprehension as to what course he might take. It
was best, he concluded to conciliate him.
"How are you, Walton?" he said.
"I am well," said Harry, coldly.
"How do you happen to be in this neighborhood?"
"On business," said Harry, briefly.
Luke jumped to the conclusion that the business related to him and,
conscious of wrong-doing, felt disturbed.
"I'm glad to see you," he said. "It seems pleasant to see an old
acquaintance"--he intended to say "friend."
"You left us rather suddenly," said Harry.
"Why, yes," said Luke, hesitating. "I had reasons. I'll tell you about
it after supper."
As Harry rose from the table, Luke joined him.
"Come upstairs to my room, Walton," he said, "and have a cigar."
"I'll go upstairs with you; but I don't smoke."
"You'd better learn. It's a great comfort."
"Do you board here?"
"Yes. I found I shouldn't have to pay any more than at a boarding house
and the grub's better. Here's my room. Walk in."
He led the way into a small apartment on the top floor.
"This is my den," he said. "There isn't but one chair; but I'll sit on
the bed. When did you reach town?"
"About noon."
"Are you going to stop long?" asked Luke.
"I shall stay here till I get through with my errand," answered Harry,
shrewdly; for he saw what Luke thought, and it occurred to him that he
might turn it to advantage.
Luke looked a little uneasy.
"By the way, Walton," he said, "I believe I owe you a little money."
"Yes. I believe so."
"I'm sorry I can't pay you the whole of it. It costs considerable to
live, you know; but I'll pay part."
"Here are five dollars," he said. "I'll pay you the rest as soon as I
can--in a week or two."
Harry took the bank note with secret self-congratulation, for he had
given up the debt as bad, and never expected to realize a cent of it.
"I am glad to get it," he said. "I have a use for all my money. Are you
working in this town?"
"Yes. The shoe business is carried on here considerably. Are you still
working for Mr. Leavitt?"
"No; I've left him."
"What are you doing, then?"
"I'm traveling with Professor Henderson."
"What, the magician?"
"Yes."
"And is that what brought you to Centreville?"
"Yes."
Luke whistled.
"I thought--" he began.
"What did you think?"
"I thought," answered Luke, evasively, "that you might be looking for
work in some of the shoe shops here."
"Is there any chance, do you think?"
"No, I don't think there is," said Luke; for he was by no means anxious
to have Harry in the same town.
"Then I shall probably stay with the professor."
"What do you do?"
"Take tickets at the door and help him beforehand with his apparatus."
"You'll let me in free, to-night, won't you?"
"That isn't for me to decide."
"I should think the professor would let your friends go in free."
"I'll make you an offer, Luke," said he.
"What is it?"
"Just pay me the rest of; that money to-night and I'll let you in free
at my own expense."
"I can't do it. I haven't got the money. If 'you'll give it back, I'll
call it a dollar more and pay you the whole at the end of next week."
"I'm afraid your calling it a dollar more wouldn't do much good," said
Harry, shrewdly.
"Do you doubt my word?" blustered Luke, who had regained courage now
that he had ascertained the real object of Harry's visit and that it had
no connection with him.
"I won't express any opinion on that subject," answered Harry; "but
there's an old saying that a 'bird in the hand's worth two in the
bush.'"
"I hate old sayings."
"Some of them contain a great deal of truth."
"What a fool I was to pay him that five dollars!" thought Luke,
regretfully. "If I hadn't been such a simpleton, I should have found out
what brought him here, before throwing away nearly all I had."
This was the view Luke took of paying his debts. He regarded it as money
thrown away. Apparently, a good many young men are of a similar opinion.
This was not, however, according to Harry's code, and was never likely
to be. He believed in honesty and integrity. If he hadn't, I should feel
far less confidence in his ultimate success.
"I think I must leave you," said Harry, rising. "The professor may need
me."
"Do you like him? Have you got a good place?"
"Yes, I like him. He is a very pleasant man."
"How does it pay?"
"Pretty well."
"I wouldn't mind trying it myself. Do you handle all the money?"
"I take the money at the door."
"I suppose you might keep back a dollar or so, every night, and he'd
never know the difference."
"I don't know. I never thought about that," said Harry, dryly.
"Oh, I remember, you're one of the pious boys."
"I'm too pious to take money that doesn't belong to me, if that's what
you mean," said Harry.
This was a very innocent remark; but Luke, remembering how he had kept
Harry's pocketbook, chose to interpret it as a fling to himself.
"Do you mean that for me?" he demanded, angrily.
"Mean what for you?"
"That about keeping other people's money."
"I wasn't talking about you at all. I was talking about myself."
"You'd better not insult me," said Luke, still suspicious.
"I'm not in the habit of insulting anybody."
"I don't believe in people that set themselves up to be so much better
than everybody else."
"Do you mean that for me?" asked Harry, smiling.
"Yes, I do. What are you going to do about it?"
"Nothing, except to deny that I make any such claims. Shall you come
round to the hall, to-night?"
"Perhaps so."
"Then I shall see you. I must be going now."
He went out, leaving Luke vainly deploring the loss of the five dollars
which he had so foolishly squandered in paying his debt.
CHAPTER XXIX. IN THE PRINTING OFFICE
"Harry," said the professor, after breakfast the next morning, "I find
we must get some more bills printed. You may go round to the office
of the Centreville Gazette, and ask them how soon they can print me a
hundred large bills and a thousand small ones."
"All right, sir. Suppose they can't have them done by the ready to
start?"
"They can send them to me by express."
Harry had never been in a printing office; but he had a great curiosity
to see one ever since he had read the "Life of Benjamin Franklin." If
there was anyone in whose steps he thought he should like to follow, it
was Franklin, and Franklin was a printer.
He had no difficulty in finding the office. It was in the second story
of a building, just at the junction of two roads near the center of the
town, the post office being just underneath. He ascended a staircase,
and saw on the door, at the head of the stairs:
"CENTREVILLE GAZETTE"
He opened the door and entered. He saw a large room, containing a press
at the end, while two young men, with paper caps on their heads, were
standing in their shirt sleeves at upright cases setting type. On one
side there was a very small office partitioned off. Within, a man was
seen seated at a desk, with a pile of exchange papers on the floor,
writing busily. This was Mr. Jotham Anderson publisher and editor of the
Gazette.
"I want to get some printing done," said Harry, looking toward the
journeymen.
"Go to Mr. Anderson," said one, pointing to the office.
Harry went in. The editor looked up as he entered.
"What can I do for you?" he asked.
"I want to get some printing done."
"For yourself?"
"No; for Professor Henderson."
"I've done jobs for him before. What does he want?"
Our hero explained.
"Very well, we will do it."
"Can you have it done before two o'clock?"
"Impossible. I am just bringing out my paper."
"When can you have the job finished?"
"To-morrow noon."
"I suppose that will do. We perform to-morrow at Berlin and they can be
sent over to the hotel there."
"You say 'we,'" answered Harry, amused. "I take tickets, and assist him
generally."
"How do you like the business?"
"Very well; but I should like your business better."
"What makes you think so?"
"I have been reading the 'Life of Benjamin Franklin.' He was a printer."
"That's true; but I'm sorry to say Franklins are scarce in our printing
offices. I never met one yet."
"I shouldn't expect to turn out a Franklins; but I think one couldn't
help being improved by the business."
"True again, though, of course, it depends on the wish to improve. How
long have you been working for Professor Henderson?"
"Not long. Only two or three weeks."
"What did you do before?"
"I was pegger in a shoe shop."
"Didn't you like it?"
"Well enough, for I needed to earn money and it paid me; but I don't
think I should like to be a shoemaker all my life. It doesn't give any
chance to learn."
"Then you like learning?"
"Yes. 'Live and learn'--that is my motto."
"It is a good one. Do you mean to be a printer?"
"If I get a chance."
"You may come into my office on the first of April, if you like. One of
my men will leave me by the first of May. If you are a smart boy, and
really wish to learn the business, you can break in so as to be useful
in four weeks."
"I should like it," said Harry; "but," he added, with hesitation, "I am
poor, and could not afford to work for nothing while I was learning."
"I'll tell you what I'll do, then," said the editor. "I'll give you your
board for the first month, on condition that you'll work for six months
afterwards for two dollars a week and board. That's a fair offer. I
wouldn't make it if I didn't feel assured that you were smart, and would
in time be valuable to me."
"I'll come if my father does not object."
"Quite tight. I should not like to have you act contrary to his wishes.
I suppose, for the present, you will remain with Professor Henderson."
"Yes, sir."
"Very well. Let me hear from you when you have communicated with your
father."
Harry left the office plunged in thought. It came upon him with
surprise, that he had engaged himself to learn a new business, and
that the one which he had longed to follow ever since he had become
acquainted with Franklin's early life. He realized that he was probably
making immediate sacrifice. He could, undoubtedly, make more money in
the shoe shop than in the printing office, for the present at least. By
the first of April the shoe business obtain employment. But then he was
sure he should like printing better, and if he was ever going to change,
why, the sooner he made the change the better.
When he returned to the hotel, he told the professor what he had done.
"I am glad you are not going at once," said his employer, "for I should
be sorry to lose you. I generally give up traveling for the season about
the first of April, so that I shall be ready to release you. I commend
your choice of a trade. Many of our best editors have been practical
printers in their youth."
"I should like to be an editor, but I don't know enough."
"Not at present; but you can qualify yourself to become one--that is, if
you devote you spare time to reading and studying."
"I mean to do that."
"Then you will fair chance of becoming what you desire. To a certain
extent, a boy, or young man, holds the future in his own hands."
Harry wrote to father, at once, in regard to the plan which he had in
view. The answer did not reach him for nearly a week; but we will so far
anticipate matters as to insert that part which related to it.
"If you desire to be a printer, Harry, I shall not object. It is a good
trade, and you can make yourself, through it, useful to the community.
I do not suppose it will ever make you rich. Still, I should think it
might, in time, give you a comfortable living--better, I hope, than I
have been able to earn as a farmer. If you determine to win success, you
probably will. If you should leave your present place before the first
of April, we shall be very glad to have you come home, if only for a
day or two. We all miss you very much--your mother, particularly. Tom
doesn't say much about it; but I know he will be as glad to see you as
the rest of us."
Harry read this letter with great pleasure, partly because it brought
him permission to do as he desired, and partly because it was gratifying
to him to feel that he was missed at home. He determined, if it was a
possible thing, to leave the professor a week before his new engagement,
and spend that time in Granton.
CHAPTER XXX. THE YOUNG TREASURER
On the morning after receiving the letter from his father, Harry came
down to breakfast, but looked in vain for the professor. Supposing he
would be down directly, he sat down to the breakfast table. When he had
nearly finished eating, a boy employed about the hotel came to his side.
"That gentleman you're with is sick. He wants you to come to his room as
soon as you are through breakfast."
Harry did not wait to finish, but got up from the table at once, and
went up to his employer's room.
"Are you sick, sir?" he inquired, anxiously.
The professor's face was flushed, and he was tossing about in bed.
"Yes," he answered. "I am afraid I am threatened with a fever."
"I hope not, sir."
"I am subject to fevers; but I hope I might not have another for some
time to come. I must have caught cold yesterday, and the result is, that
I am sick this morning."
"What can I do for you, sir?"
"I should like to have you go for the doctor. Inquire of the landlord
who is the best in the village."
"I will go at once."
On inquiry, our hero was informed that Dr. Parker was the most trusted
physician in the neighborhood, and he proceeded to his house at once.
The doctor was, fortunately, still at home, and answered the summons
immediately. He felt the sick man's pulse, asked him a variety of
questions, and finally announced his opinion.
"You are about to have a fever," he said, "if, indeed, the fever has not
already set in."
"A serious fever, doctor?" asked the sick man, anxiously.
"I cannot yet determine."
"Do you think I shall be long sick?"
"That, also, is uncertain. I suppose you will be likely to be detained
here a fortnight, at least."
"I wish I could go home."
"It would not be safe for you to travel, under present circumstances."
"If I were at home, I could be under my wife's care."
"Can't she come here?"
"She has three young children. It would be difficult for her to leave
them."
"Who is the boy that called at my house?"
"Harry Walton. He is my assistant--takes money at the door, and helps me
other ways."
"Is he trustworthy?"
"I have always found him so."
"Why can't he, attend upon you?"
"I mean to retain him with me--that is, if he will stay. It will be dull
work for a boy of his age."
"You can obtain a nurse, besides, if needful."
"You had better engage one for me, as I cannot confine him here all the
time."
"I will do so. I know of one, skillful and experienced, who is just now
at leisure. I will send her round here this morning."
"What is her name?"
"Not a very romantic one--Betsy Chase."
"I suppose that doesn't prevent her being a good nurse," said the
professor, smiling.
"Not at all."
Here Harry entered the room.
"Harry," said the professor, "the doctor tells me I am going to be
sick."
"I am very sorry, sir," said our hero, with an air of concern.
"I shall probably be detained here at least a fortnight. Are you willing
to remain with me?"
"Certainly, sir. I should not think of leaving you, sick and alone, if
you desired me to stay. I hope I can make myself useful to you."
"You can. I shall need you to do errands for me, and to sit with me a
part of the time."
"I shall be very willing to do so, sir."
"You will probably find it dull."
"Not so dull as you will find it, sir. The time must seem very long to
you, lying on that bed."
"I suppose it will; but that can't be helped."
"A nurse will be here this afternoon," said the doctor.
"Until she comes, you will be in attendance here."
"Yes, sir."
"I will direct you what to do, and how often to administer the
medicines. Can remember?"
"Yes, sir, I shall not forget."
Dr. Parker here gave Harry minute instructions, which need not be
repeated, since they were altogether of a professional nature.
After the doctor was gone, Professor Henderson said:
"As soon as the nurse comes, I shall want you to ride over to the
next town, Carmansville, and countermand the notices for an exhibition
to-night. I shall not be able to give entertainments for some time to
come. Indeed, I am not sure but I must wait till next season."
"How shall I go over?" asked Harry.
"You may get a horse and buggy at the stable, and drive over there. If
I remember rightly, it is between little seven and eight miles. The road
is a little winding, but I think you won't lose your way."
"Oh, I'll find it," said Harry, confidently.
It was not till three o'clock that the nurse made her appearance, and it
was past three before Harry started on his way.
"You need not hurry home," said the professor. "In fact, you had better
take supper at the hotel in Carmansville, as you probably could not very
well get back here till eight o'clock."
"Very well, sir," said Harry. "But shan't you need me?"
"No; Miss Chase will attend to me."
"Mrs. Chase, if you please," said the nurse. "I've been a widder for
twenty years."
"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Chase," said the sick man smiling.
"When my husband was alive, I never expected to go out nursin'; but I've
had come to it."
"The doctor says you are a very skillful and experienced nurse."
"I'd ought to be. I've nussed people in almost all sorts of diseases,
from measles to smallpox. You needn't be frightened, sir; I haven't had
any smallpox case lately. Isn't it most time to take your medicine?"
Harry left the room, and was soon on his way to Carmansville. Once he
got off the road, which was rather a perplexing one, but he soon found
it again. However, it was half past five before he reached the village,
and nearly an hour later before he had done the errand which brought
him over. Finally, he came back to the tavern, and being by this time
hungry, went in at once to the tavern, and being by this time hungry,
went in at once to supper. He did full justice to the meal which was set
before him. The day was cold, and his ride had stimulated his appetite.
When he sat down to the table he was alone; but a minute afterward a
small, dark-complexioned man, with heavy black whiskers, came in, and
sat down beside him. He had a heavy look, and a forbidding expression;
but our hero was too busy to take particular notice of him till the
latter commenced a conversation.
"It's a pretty cold day," he remarked.
"Very cold," said Harry. "I am dreading my ride back to Pentland."
"Are you going to Pentland to-night?" asked the stranger, with interest.
"Yes, sir."
"Do you live over there?"
"No; I am there for a short time only," Harry replied.
"Business?"
"Yes."
"You seem rather young to be in business," said the stranger.
"Oh," said Harry, smiling, "I am in the employ of Professor Henderson,
the ventriloquist. I suppose it is hardly proper to say that I am in
business."
"Professor Henderson! Why, he is going to give an entertainment here
to-night, isn't he?"
"He was; but I have come over to countermand the notice."
"What is that for?"
"He is taken sick at Pentland, and won't be able to come."
"Oh, that's it. Well, I'm sorry, for I should like to have gone to hear
him. So you are his assistant, are you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Can you perform tricks, too?"
"I don't assist him in that way. I take money at the door, and help him
with his apparatus."
"Have you been with him long?"
"Only a few weeks."
"So you are his treasurer, are you?" asked the stranger smiling.
"Ye--es," said Harry, slowly, for it brought to his mind that he had
one hundred and fifty dollars of the professor's money in his pocket,
besides the pocketbook containing his own. He intended to have left it
with his employer, but in the hurry of leaving he had forgotten to do
so. Now he was about to take a long ride in the evening with this large
sum of money about him.
"However," he said, reassuring himself, "there is nothing to be afraid
of. Country people are not robbers. Burglars stay in the cities. I have
nothing to fear."
Still he prudently resolved, if compelled to be out late again, to leave
his money at home.
He rose from table, followed by the stranger.
"Well," said the latter, "I must be going. How soon do you start?"
"In a few minutes."
"Well, good night."
"Good night."
"He seems inclined to be social," thought Harry, "but I don't fancy him
much."
CHAPTER XXXI.
Harry was soon on his way home. It was already getting dark, and he felt
a little anxious lest he should lose his way. He was rather sorry that
he had not started earlier, though he had lost no time.
He had gone about two miles, when he came to a place where two roads
met. There was no guideboard, and he could not remember by which road he
had come. Luckily, as he thought, he described a man a little ahead. He
stopped the horse, and hailed him.
"Can you tell me which road to take to Pentland?" he asked.
The man addressed turned his head, and, to his surprise, our hero
recognized his table companion at the inn.
"Oh, it's you, my young friend!" he said.
"Yes, sir. Can you tell me the right road to Pentland? I have never been
this way before to-day, and I have forgotten how I came."
"I am thinking of going to Pentland myself," said the other.
"My sister lives there. If you don't mind giving me a lift, I will jump
in with you, and guide you."
Now, though Harry did not fancy the man's appearance, he had no reason
to doubt him, nor any ground for refusing his request.
"Jump in, sir," he said. "There is plenty of room."
The stranger was speedily seated at his side.
"Take the left-hand road," he said.
Harry turned to his left.
"It's rather a blind road," observed the stranger.
"I think I could remember in the daytime," said Harry; "but it is so
dark now, that I am in doubt."
"So I suppose."
The road on which they had entered was very lonely. Scarcely a house was
passed, and the neighborhood seemed quite uninhabited.
"I don't remember this road," said Harry, anxiously.
"Are you sure we are right?"
"Yes, yes, we are right. Don't trouble yourself."
"It's a lonely road."
"So it is. I don't suppose there's anybody lives within half a mile."
"The road didn't seem so lonely when I came over it this afternoon."
"Oh, that's the effect of sunshine. Nothing seems lonely in the daytime.
Turn down that lane."
"What for?" asked Harry, in surprise. "That can't be the road to
Pentland."
"Never mind that. Turn, I tell you."
His companion spoke fiercely, and Harry's mind began to conceive
alarming suspicions as to his character. But he was brave, and not
easily daunted.
"The horse and carriage are mine, or, at least, are under my direction,"
he said, firmly, "and you have no control over them. I shall not turn."
"Won't you?" retorted the stranger, with an oath, and drew from his
pocket a pistol. "Won't you?"
"What do you mean? Who are you?" demanded Harry.
"You will find out before I get through with you. Now turn into the
lane."
"I will not," said Harry, pale, but determined.
"Then I will save you the trouble," and his companion snatched the
reins from him, and turned the horse himself. Resistance was, of course,
useless, and our hero was compelled to submit.
"There, that suits me better. Now to business."
"To business. Produce your pocketbook."
"Would you rob me?" asked Harry, who was in a measure prepared for the
demand.
"Oh, of course not," said the other. "Gentlemen never do such things. I
want to burrow your money, that is all."
"I don't want to lend."
"I dare say not," sneered the other; "but I shan't be able to respect
your wishes. The sooner you give me the money the better."
Harry had two pocketbooks. The one contained his own money--about forty
dollars--the other the money of his employer. The first was in the side
pocket of his coat, the second in the pocket of his pants. The latter,
as was stated in the preceding chapter, contained one hundred and fifty
dollars. Harry heartily repented not having left it behind, but it was
to late for repentance. He could only hope that the robber would be
satisfied with one pocketbook, and not suspect the existence of the
other. There seemed but little hope of saving his own money. However, he
determined to do it, if possible.
"Hurry up," said the stranger, impatiently. "You needn't pretend you
have no money. I know better than that. I saw you pay the landlord."
"Then he saw the professor's pocketbook," thought Harry, uneasily. "Mine
is of different appearance. I hope he won't detect the difference."
"I hope you will leave me some of the money," said Harry, producing the
pocketbook.
"It is all I have."
"How much is there?"
"About forty dollars."
"Humph! that isn't much."
"It is all I have in the world."
"Pooh! you are young and can soon earn some more. I must have the whole
of it."
"Can't you leave me five dollars?"
"No, I can't. Forty dollars are little enough to serve my turn."
So saying, he coolly deposited the pocketbook in the pocket of his
pants.
"So far so good. It's well, youngster, you didn't make any more fuss,
or I might have had to use my little persuader;" and he displayed the
pistol.
"Will you let me go now, sir?"
"I have not got through my business yet. That's a nice overcoat of
yours."
Harry looked at him, in doubt as to his meaning, but he was soon
enlightened.
"I am a small person," proceeded the man with black whiskers, "scarcely
any larger than you. I think it'll be a good fit."
"Must I lose my overcoat, too?" thought Harry, in trouble.
"You've got an overcoat of your own, sir," he said.
"You don't need mine."
"Oh, I wouldn't rob you of yours on any account. A fair exchange is no
robbery. I am going to give you mine in exchange for yours."
The stranger's coat was rough and well worn, and, at its best, had been
inferior to Harry's coat. Our hero felt disturbed at the prospect of
losing it, for he could not tell when he could afford to get another.
"I should think you might be satisfied with the pocketbook," he said. "I
hope you will leave me my coat."
"Off with the coat, youngster!" was the sole reply.
"First, get out of the buggy. We can make the exchange better outside."
As opposition would be unavailing, Harry obeyed. The robber took from
him the handsome overcoat, the possession of which had afforded him
so much satisfaction, and handed him his own. In great disgust and
dissatisfaction our hero invested himself in it.
"Fits you as if it was made for you," said the stranger, with a short
laugh. "Yours is a trifle slow for me, but I can make it go. No, don't
be in such a hurry."
He seized Harry by the arm as he was about to jump into the carriage.
"I must go," said Harry. "You have already detained me some time."
"I intend to detain you some time longer."
"Have you got any more business with me?"
"Yes, I have. You've hit it exactly. You'll soon know what it is."
He produced a ball of cord from a pocket of his inside coat, and with
a knife severed a portion. "Do you know what this is for?" he asked,
jeeringly.
"No."
"Say, 'No, sir.' It's more respectful. Well, I'll gratify your laudable
curiosity. It's to tie your hands and feet."
"I won't submit to it," said Harry, angrily.
"Won't you?" asked the other, coolly. "This is a very pretty pistol,
isn't it? I hope I shan't have to use it."
"What do you want to tie my hands for?" asked Harry.
"For obvious reasons, my young friend."
"I can't drive if my hands are tied."
"Correct, my son. I don't intend you to drive tonight. Give me your
hands."
Harry considered whether it would be advisable to resist. The stranger
was not much larger than himself. He was a man, however, and naturally
stronger. Besides, he had a pistol. He seceded that it was necessary
to submit. After all, he had saved his employer's money, even if he had
lost his own, and this was something. He allowed himself to be bound.
"Now," said the stranger, setting him up against the stone wall, which
bordered the lane, "I will bid you good night. I might take your horse,
but, on the whole, I don't want him. I will fasten him to this tree,
where he will be all ready for you in the morning. That's considerate in
me. Good night. I hope you are comfortable."
He disappeared in the darkness, and Harry was left alone.
CHAPTER XXXII. THE GOOD SAMARITAN
Harry's reflections, as he sat on the ground were not the most cheerful.
He was sitting in a constrained posture, his hands and feet being tied,
and, moreover, the cold air chilled him. The cold was not intense, but
as he was unable to move his limbs he, of course, felt it the more.
"I suppose it will get colder," thought Harry, uncomfortably. "I wonder
if there is any danger of freezing."
The horse evidently began to feel impatient, for he turned round and
looked at our hero. "Why don't you keep on?"
"I wish somebody would come this way," thought Harry, and he looked up
and down the lane as well as he could, but could see no one.
"If I could only get at my knife," said Harry, to himself, "I could cut
theses cords. Let me try."
He tried to get his hands into his pockets, but it was of no avail. The
pocket was too deep, and though he worked his body round, he finally
gave it up. It seemed likely that he must stay here all night. The next
day probably some one would come by, as they were so near a public road,
upon whom he could call to release him.
"The night will seem about a week long," poor Harry considered. "I
shan't dare to go to sleep, for fear I may freeze to death."
The horse whinnied again, and again looked inquiringly at his young
driver, but the latter was not master of the situation, and was obliged
to disregard the mute appeal.
"I wonder the robber didn't carry off the horse," thought Harry. "I
suppose he had his reasons. It isn't likely he left him out of his
regard for me."
Two hours passed, and Harry still found himself a prisoner. His
constrained position became still more uncomfortable. He longed for the
power of jumping up and stretching his legs, now numb and chilled, but
the cord was strong, and defied his efforts. No person had passed, not
had he heard any sound as he lay there, except the occasional whinny of
the horse which was tied as well as himself, and did not appear to enjoy
his confinement any better.
It was at this moment that Harry's heart leaped with sudden hope, as he
heard in the distance the sound of a whistle. It might be a boy, or it
might be a man; but, as he listened intently, he perceived that it was
coming nearer.
"I hope I can make him hear," thought Harry, earnestly.
It was a boy of about his own age, who was advancing along the road
from which he had turned into the lane. The boy was not alone, as it
appeared, for a large dog ran before him. The dog first noticed the
horse and buggy, and next our hero, lying on the ground, and,
concluding that something was wrong, began to bark violently, circling
uncomfortably near Harry, against whom he seemed to cherish hostile
designs.
"What's the matter, Caesar?" shouted his young master.
"Good dog!" said Harry, soothingly, in momentary fear that the brute
would bite him.
But Caesar was not to be cajoled by flattery. "Bow, wow, wow!" he
answered, opening his large mouth, and displaying a formidable set of
teeth.
"Good dog! I'd like to choke him!" added Harry, in an undertone to
himself.
There was another volley of barks, which seemed likely to be followed by
an attack. Just at this moment, however, luckily for our hero, the dog's
master came up.
"Why, Caesar," he called, "what is the matter with you?"
"Please take your dog away," said Harry. "I am afraid he will bite me."
"Who are you?" inquired the boy, in surprise.
"Come and untie these cords, and I will tell you."
"What! Are you tied?"
"Yes, hand and foot."
"Who did it?" asked the boy, in increasing surprise.
"I don't know his name, but he robbed me of my pocketbook before doing
it."
"What, a robber around here!" exclaimed the boy, incredulous.
"Yes; I met him first over in Carmansville. Thank you; now my feet if
you please. It seems good to be free again;" and Harry swung his arms,
and jumped up and down to bring back the sense of warmth to his chilled
limbs.
"Is this horse yours?" asked the boy.
"Yes; I took up the man and he promised to show me the road to
Pentland."
"This isn't the road to Pentland."
"I suppose not. He took me wrong on purpose."
"How much money did he take from you?"
"Forty dollars."
"That's a good deal," said the country boy. "Was it yours?"
"Yes."
"I never had so much money in my life."
"It has taken me almost six months to earn it. But I had more money with
me, only he didn't know it."
"How much?"
"A hundred and fifty dollars."
"Was it yours?" asked the boy, surprised.
"No; it belonged to my employer."
"Who is he?"
"Professor Henderson, the ventriloquist."
"Where is he stopping?"
"Over at Pentland. He is sick at the hotel there."
"It's lucky for you I was out to-night. I ain't often out so late but I
went to see a friend of mine, and stayed later than I meant to."
"Do you live near here?"
"I live about a quarter of a mile up this lane."
"Do you know what time it is?"
"I don't know, but I think it is past ten."
"I wonder whether I can get anybody to go with me to Pentland. I can't
find my way in the dark."
"I will go with you to-morrow morning."
"But what shall I do to-night?"
"I'll tell you. Come home with me. The folks will take you in, and the
horse can be put up in the barn."
Harry hesitated
"I suppose they will feel anxious about me over at Pentland. They won't
know what has become of me."
"You can start early in the morning--as early as you like."
"Perhaps it will be better," said Harry, after a pause.
"It won't trouble your family too much, will it?"
"Not a bit," answered the boy, heartily. "Very likely they won't know
till morning," he added, laughing. "They go to bed early, and I told
them they needn't wait up for me."
"I am very much obliged to you," said Harry. "I will accept your kind
invitation. As I've got a horse, we may as well ride. I'll untie him,
and you jump into the buggy."
"All right," said the boy, well pleased.
"You may drive, for you know the way better than I."
"Where did this horse come from?"
"From the stable in Pentland."
"Perhaps they will think you have run away with it."
"I hope not."
"What is your name?"
"Harry Walton. What is yours?"
"Jefferson Selden. The boys usually call me Jeff."
"Is that your dog?"
"Yes. He's a fine fellow."
"I didn't think so when he was threatening to bite me," said Harry
laughing.
"I used to be afraid of dogs," said Jeff; "but I got cured of it after
a while. When I go out at night, I generally take Caesar with me. If you
had had him, you would have been a match for the robber."
"He had a pistol."
"Caesar would have had him down before he could use it."
"I wish he had been with me, then."
They had, by this time, come in sight of Jeff's house. It was a square
farmhouse, with a barn in the rear.
"We'll go right out to the barn," said Jeff, "and put up the horse. Then
we'll come back to the house and go to bed."
There was a little difficulty in unharnessing the horse, on account of
the absence of light; but at last, by a combined effort, it was done,
and the buggy was drawn into the barn and the doors shut.
"There, all will be safe till to-morrow morning," said Jeff. "Now we'll
go into the house."
He entered by the back shed door, and Harry followed him. They went into
the broad, low kitchen, with its ample fireplace, in which a few embers
were glowing. By these Jeff lighted a candle, and asked Harry if he
would have anything to eat.
"No, thank you," said Harry. "I ate a hearty supper at Carmansville."
"Then we'll go upstairs to bed. I sleep in a small room over the shed.
You won't mind sleeping with me?"
"I should like your company," said Harry, who was attracted to his
good-natured companion.
"Then come up. I guess we'll find the bed wide enough."
He led the way up a narrow staircase, into a room low studded, and very
plainly but comfortably furnished.
"The folks will be surprised to see you here in the morning," said Jeff.
"I may be gone before they are up."
"I guess not. Father'll be up by five o'clock, and I think that'll be as
early as you'll want to be stirring."
CHAPTER XXXIII. THE REWARD OF FIDELITY
"Where am I?" asked Harry, the next morning, as he sat up in bed and
stared around him.
"Don't you remember?" asked Jeff, smiling.
Jeff was standing by the bedside, already dressed.
"Yes; I remember now," said Harry, slowly. "What time is it?"
"Seven o'clock."
"Seven o'clock! I meant to be dressed at six."
"That is the time I got up," said Jeff.
"Why didn't you wake me up?"
"You looked so comfortable that I thought it was a pity to wake you. You
must have felt tired."
"I think it was the cold that made me sleepy. I got chilled through
when I lay on the ground there, tied hand and foot. But I must get up in
hurry now."
He jumped out of bed, and hurried on his clothes.
"Now," said Jeff, "come down into the kitchen, and mother'll give you
some breakfast."
"I am giving you a great deal of trouble, I am afraid," said Harry.
"No, you're not. It's no trouble at all. The rest of the family have
eaten breakfast, but I waited for you. I've been up an hour, and feel as
hungry as a wolf. So come down, and we'll see who'll eat the most."
"I can do my part," said Harry. "I've got a good appetite, though I've
been up a food deal less than an hour."
"Take your overcoat alone," said Jeff; "or will you come up and get
after breakfast?"
"I'll take it down with me. It isn't my coat, you know. Mine was a much
better one. I wish I had it back."
Jeff, meanwhile, had taken up the coat.
"There's something in the pocket," he said. "What is it?"
"I didn't put anything in."
Harry thrust his hand into the side pocket for the first time, and drew
out a shabby leather wallet.
"Perhaps there's money in it," Jeff suggested.
The same thought had occurred to Harry. He hastily opened it, and his
eyes opened wide with astonishment as he drew out a thick roll of bills.
"By hokey!" said Jeff, "you're in luck. The robber took your pocketbook,
and left his own. Maybe there's as much as you lost. Count it."
This Harry eagerly proceeded to do.
"Three--eight--eleven--thirteen--twenty," he repeated, aloud. He
continued his count, which resulted in showing that the wallet contained
ninety-seven dollars.
"Ninety-seven dollars!" exclaimed Jeff. "How much did you lose?"
"Forty dollars."
"Then you've made just fifty-seven dollars. Bully for you!"
"But I've exchanged a good overcoat for a poor one."
"There can't be more than seventeen dollars difference."
"Not so much."
"Then you're forty dollars better off, at any rate."
"But I don't know as I can claim this money," said Harry, doubtfully.
"It isn't mine."
"He won't be likely to call for it. When he does, and returns you the
money and the coat, it will be time to think about it."
"I will ask Professor Henderson about that. At any rate I've got my
money back, that's one good thing."
This timely discovery made Harry decidedly cheerful, and, if anything,
sharpened his appetite for breakfast.
Now Mr. Selden had gone out to oversee some farm work; but Mrs. Selden
received out hero very kindly, and made him feel that he was heartily
welcome to that she could offer. She had many questions to ask about the
bold robber who had waylaid him, and expressed the hope that he had left
the neighborhood.
"Perhaps he'll come back for his wallet, Harry," said Jeff. "You'd
better look out for him."
"I shall take care how I carry much money about with me, after this,"
said Harry. "That was what got me into a scrape yesterday."
"He wouldn't make out much if he tried to rob me," said Jeff. "I haven't
got money enough about me to pay the board of a full-grown fly for
twenty-four hours."
"You don't look as if your poverty troubled you much," said his mother.
"I don't have any board bills to pay," said Jeff, "so I can get along."
"I should think you would feel nervous about riding to Pentland
alone," said Mrs. Selden, "for fear of meeting the man who robbed you
yesterday."
"I do dread it a little," said Harry, "having so much money about me.
Besides this ninety-seven dollars, I've got a hundred and fifty dollars
belonging to my employer."
"Suppose I go with you to protect you," said Jeff.
"I wish you would."
"I don't think Jefferson would make a very efficient protector," said
his mother.
"You don't know how brave I am, mother," said Jeff, in the tone of an
injured hero.
"No, I don't," said his mother, smiling. "I believe there was a time
when you were not very heroic in the company of dogs."
"That's long ago, mother. I've got over it now."
"If you would like to ride over with your friend, you may do so. But how
will you get back?"
"Major Pinkham will be up there this afternoon. I can wait, and ride
home with him."
"Very well; I have no objection."
The two boys rode off together. Harry was glad to have a companion who
knew the road well, for he did not care to be lost again till he had
delivered up the money which he had in charge. There was no opportunity
to test Jeff's courage, for the highwayman did not make his appearance.
Indeed, it was not till the next morning that he discovered the serious
blunder he had made in leaving his own wallet behind, and, though he was
angry and disgusted, prudential considerations prevented his going
back. He was forced to the unpleasant conviction that he had overreached
himself, and that his intended victim had come out best in the
"exchange" which "was no robbery." I may as well add here that, though
he deserved to be caught, he was not, and Harry has never, to this day,
set eyes either upon him or upon the coat.
When Harry arrived at Pentland, he found that no little anxiety had been
felt about him.
"Has Harry come yet?" asked the sick man, at ten o'clock the evening
previous.
"No, he hasn't," answered the nurse.
"It's strange what keeps him."
"Did he have any money of yours with him?"
"Yes, I believe he had."
"Oh!" ejaculated Mrs. Chase, significantly.
"What do you mean by that?"
"I didn't say anything, did I?"
"I am afraid he may have been attacked and robbed on the road."
Mrs. Chase coughed.
"Don't you think so?"
"I'll tell you what I think, professor," said the nurse, proceeding
to speak plainly, "I don't think you'll ever see anything of that boy
ag'in."
"Why not?"
"It ain't safe to trust boys with money," she answered, sententiously.
"Oh, I'm not afraid of his honesty."
"You don't say! Maybe you haven't seen as much of boys as I have."
"I was once a boy myself," said the professor, smiling.
"Oh, you--that's different."
"Why is it different? I wasn't any better than boys generally."
"I don't know anything about that; but you mark my words--as like as not
he's run away with your money. How much did he have?"
"I can't say exactly. Over a hundred dollars, I believe."
"Then he won't come back," said Mrs. Chase, decidedly.
Here the conference closed, as it was necessary for Mr. Henderson to
take medicine.
"Has the boy returned?" asked the professor, the next morning.
"You don't expect him--do you?"
"Certainly I expect him."
"Well, he ain't come, and I guess he won't come."
"I am sure that boy is honest," said Professor Henderson to himself. "If
he isn't, I'll never trust a boy again."
Mrs. Chase was going downstairs with her patient's breakfast dishes,
when she was nearly run into by our hero, who had just returned, and was
eager to report to his employer.
"Do be keerful," she expostulated, when, to her surprise, she recognized
Harry.
So he had come back, after all, and falsified her prediction. Such is
human nature, that for an instant she was disappointed.
"Here's pretty work," she said, "stayin' out all night, and worryin' the
professor out of his wits."
"I couldn't help it, Mrs. Chase."
"Why couldn't you help it, I'd like to know?"
"I'll tell you afterwards. I must go up now, and see the professor."
Mrs. Chase was so curious that she returned, with the dishes, to hear
Harry's statement.
"Good morning," said Harry, entering the chamber.
"I'm sorry to have been so long away, but I couldn't help it. I hope you
haven't worried much about my absence."
"I knew you would come back, but Mrs. Chase had her doubts," said
Professor Henderson, pleasantly. "Now tell me what it was that detained
you?"
"A highwayman," said Harry.
"A highwayman!" exclaimed both in concert.
"Yes, I'll tell you all about it. But first, I'll say that he stole only
my money, and didn't suspect that I had a hundred and fifty dollars of
yours with me. That's all safe. Here it is. I think you had better take
care of that yourself, sir, hereafter."
The professor glanced significantly at Mr. Chase, as much as to say,
"You see how unjust your suspicions were. I am right, after all."
"Tell us all about it, Harry."
Our hero obeyed instructions; but it is not necessary to repeat a
familiar tale.
"Massy sakes!" ejaculated Betsy Chase. "Who ever heerd the like?"
"I congratulate you, Harry, on coming off with such flying colors. I
will, at my own expense, provide you with a new overcoat, as a reward
for bringing home my money safe. You shall not lose anything by your
fidelity."
CHAPTER XXXIV. IN DIFFICULTY
We must now transfer the scene to the Walton homestead.
It looks very much the same as on the day when the reader was first
introduced to it. There is not a single article of new furniture, nor
is any of the family any better dressed. Poverty reigns with undisputed
sway. Mr. Walton is reading a borrowed newspaper by the light of
a candle--for it is evening--while Mrs. Walton is engaged in her
never-ending task of mending old clothes, in the vain endeavor to make
them look as well as new. It is so seldom that anyone of the family has
new clothes, that the occasion is one long remembered and dated from.
"It seems strange we don't hear from Harry," said Mrs. Walton, looking
up from her work.
"When was the last letter received?" asked Mr. Walton, laying down the
paper.
"Over a week ago. He wrote that the professor was sick, and he was
stopping at the hotel to take care of him."
"I remember. What was the name of the place?"
"Pentland."
"Perhaps his employer is recovered, and he is going about with him."
"Perhaps so; but I should think he would write. I am afraid he is sick
himself. He may have caught the same fever."
"It is possible; but I think Harry would let us know in some way. At any
rate, it isn't best to worry ourselves about uncertainties."
"I wonder if Harry's grown?" said Tom.
"Of course he's grown," said Mary.
"I wonder if he's grown as much as I have," said Tom, complacently.
"I don't believe you've grown a bit."
"Yes, I have; if you don't believe it, see how short my pants are."
Tom did, indeed, seem to be growing out of his pants, which were
undeniably too short for him.
"You ought to have some new pants," said his mother, sighing; "but I
don't see where the money is to come from."
"Nor I," said Mr. Walton, soberly. "Somehow I don't seem to get ahead
at all. To-morrow my note for the cow comes due, and I haven't but two
dollars to meet it."
"How large it the note?"
"With six months' interest, it amounts to forty-one dollars and twenty
cents."
"The cow isn't worth that. She doesn't give as much milk as the one we
lost."
"That's true. It was a hard bargain, but I could do no better."
"You say you won't be able to meet the payment. What will be the
consequence?"
"I suppose Squire Green will take back the cow."
"Perhaps you can get another somewhere else, on better terms."
"I am afraid my credit won't be very good. I agreed to forfeit ten
dollars to Squire Green, if I couldn't pay at the end of six months."
"Will he insist on that condition?"
"I am afraid he will. He is a hard man."
"Then," said Mrs. Walton, indignantly, "he won't deserve to prosper."
"Worldly prosperity doesn't always go by merit. Plenty of mean men
prosper."
Before Mrs. Walton had time to reply, a knock was heard at the door.
"Go to the door, Tom," said his father.
Tom obeyed, and shortly reappeared, followed by a small man with a thin
figure and wrinkled face, whose deep-set, crafty eyes peered about him
curiously as he entered the room.
"Good evening, Squire Green," said Mr. Walton, politely, guessing his
errand.
"Good evenin', Mrs. Walton. The air's kinder frosty. I ain't so young as
I was once, and it chills my blood."
"Come up to the fire, Squire Green," said Mrs. Walton, who wanted the
old man to be comfortable, though she neither liked nor respected him.
The old man sat down and spread his hands before the fire.
"Anything new stirring, Squire?" asked Hiram Walton.
"Nothin' that I know on. I was lookin' over my papers to-night,
neighbor, and I come across that note you give for the cow. Forty
dollars with interest, which makes the whole come to forty-one dollars
and twenty cents. To-morrow's the day for payin'. I suppose you'll be
ready?" and the old man peered at Hiram Walton with his little keen
eyes.
"Now for it," thought Hiram. "I'm sorry to say, Squire Green," he
answered, "that I can't pay the note. Times have been hard, and my
family expenses have taken all I could earn."
The squire was not much disappointed, for now he was entitled to exact
the forfeit of ten dollars.
"The contrack provides that if you can't meet the note you shall pay ten
dollars," he said. "I 'spose you can do that."
"Squire Green, I haven't got but two dollars laid by."
"Two dollars!" repeated the squire, frowning. "That ain't honest.
You knew the note was comin' due, and you'd oughter have provided ten
dollars, at least."
"I've done as much as I could. I've wanted to meet the note, but I
couldn't make money, and I earned all I could."
"You hain't been equinomical," said the squire, testily. "Folks can't
expect to lay up money ef they spend it fast as it comes in"; and he
thumped on the floor with his cane.
"I should like to have you tell us how we can economize any more than we
have," said Mrs. Walton, with spirit. "Just look around you, and see if
you think we have been extravagant in buying clothes. I am sure I have
to darn and mend till I am actually ashamed."
"There's other ways of wastin' money," said the squire. "If you think we
live extravagantly, come in any day to dinner, and we will convince you
to the contrary," said Mrs. Walton, warmly.
"Tain't none of my business, as long as you pay me what you owe me,"
said the squire. "All I want is my money, and I'd orter have it."
"It doesn't seem right that my husband should forfeit ten dollars and
lose the cow."
"That was the contrack, Mrs. Walton. Your husband 'greed to it, and--"
"That doesn't make it just."
"Tain't no more'n a fair price for the use of the cow six months. Ef
you'll pay the ten dollars to-morrow, I'll let you have the cow six
months longer on the same contrack."
"I don't see any possibility of my paying you the money, Squire Green. I
haven't got it."
"Why don't you borrer somewhere?"
"I might as well owe you as another man, Besides, I don't know anybody
that would lend me the money."
"You haven't tried, have you?"
"No."
"Then you'd better. I thought I might as well come round and remind you
of the note as you might forget it."
"Not much danger," said Hiram Walton. "I've had it on my mind ever since
I gave it."
"Well, I'll come round to-morrow night, and I hope you'll be ready. Good
night."
No very cordial good night followed Squire Green as he hobbled out of
the cottage--for he was lame--not--I am sure the reader will agree with
me--did he deserve any. He was a mean, miserly, grasping man, who had no
regard for the feelings or comfort of anyone else; whose master passion
was a selfish love of accumulating money. His money did him little good,
however, for he was as mean with himself as with others, and grudged
himself even the necessaries of life, because, if purchased, it must be
at the expense of his hoards. The time would come when he and his money
must part, but he did not think of that.
CHAPTER XXXV. SETTLED
There was a general silence after Squire Green's departure. Hiram Walton
looked gloomy, and the rest of the family also.
"What an awful mean man the squire is!" Tom broke out, indignantly.
"You're right, for once," said Mary.
In general, such remarks were rebuked by the father or mother; but
the truth of Tom's observation was so clear, that for once he was not
reproved.
"Squire Green's money does him very little good," said Hiram Walton. "He
spends very little of it on himself, and it certainly doesn't obtain him
respect in the village. Rich as he is, and poor as I am, I would rather
stand in my shoes than his."
"I should think so," said his wife. "Money isn't everything."
"No; but it is a good deal I have suffered too much from the want of it,
to despise it."
"Well, Hiram," said Mrs. Walton, who felt that it would not do to look
too persistently upon the dark side, "you know that the song says,
'There's a good time coming.'"
"I've waited for it a long time, wife," said the farmer, soberly.
"Wait a little longer," said Mrs. Walton, quoting the refrain of the
song.
He smiled faintly.
"Very well, I'll wait a little longer; but if I have to wait too long, I
shall get discouraged."
"Children, it's time to go to bed," said Mrs. Walton.
"Mayn't I sit up a little longer?" pleaded Mary.
"'Wait a little longer,' mother," said Tom, laughing, as he quoted his
mother's words against her.
"Ten minutes, only, then."
Before the ten minutes were over, there was great and unexpected joy
in the little house. Suddenly the outer door opened, and, without
the slightest warning to anyone, Harry walked in. He was immediately
surrounded by the delighted family, and in less time than I am taking to
describe it he had shaken hands with his father, kissed his mother and
sister, and given Tom a bearlike hug, which nearly suffocated him.
"Where did you come from, Harry?" asked Mary.
"Dropped down from the sky," said Harry, laughing.
"Has the professor been giving exhibitions up there?" asked Tom.
"I've discharge the professor," said Harry, gayly. "I'm my own man now."
"And you've come home to stay, I hope," said his mother.
"Not long, mother," said Harry. "I can only stay a few days."
"What a bully overcoat you've got on!" said Tom.
"The professor gave it to me."
"Hasn't he got one for me, too?"
Harry took off his overcoat, and Tom was struck with fresh admiration as
he surveyed his brother's inside suit.
"I guess you spent all you money on clothes," he said.
"I hope not," said Mr. Walton, whom experience had made prudent.
"Not quite all," said Harry, cheerfully. "How much money do you think I
have brought home?"
"Ten dollars," said Tom.
"More."
"Fifteen."
"More."
"Twenty," said Mary.
"More."
"Twenty-five."
"I won't keep you guessing all night. What do you say to fifty dollars?"
"Oh, what a lot of money!" said Mary.
"You have done well, my son," said Mr. Walton. "You must have been very
economical."
"I tried to be, father. But I didn't say fifty dollars was all I had."
"You haven't got more?" said his mother, incredulously.
"I've got a hundred dollars, mother," said Harry.
"Here are fifty dollars for you, father. It'll pay your note to Squire
Green, and a little over. Here are thirty dollars, mother, of which you
must use for ten for yourself, ten for Mary, and ten for Tom. I want you
all to have some new clothes, to remember me by."
"But Harry, you will have nothing left for yourself."
"Yes, I shall. I have kept twenty dollars, which will be enough till I
can earn some more."
"I don't see how you could save so much money, Harry," said his father.
"It was partly luck, father, and partly hard work. I'll tell you all
about it."
He sat down before the fire and they listened to his narrative.
"Well, Harry," said Mr. Walton, "I am very glad to find that you are
more fortunate than your father. I have had a hard struggle; but I will
not complain if my children can prosper."
The cloud that Squire Green had brought with him had vanished, and all
was sunshine and happiness.
It was agreed that no hint should be given to Squire Green that his note
was to be paid. He did not even hear of Harry's arrival, and was quite
unconscious of any change in the circumstances of the family, when he
entered the cottage the next evening.
"Well, neighbor," he said, "I've brought along that ere note. I hope
you've raised the money to pay it."
"Where do you think I could raise money, Squire?" asked Hiram Walton.
"I thought mebbe some of the neighbors would lent it to you."
"Money isn't very plenty with any of them, Squire, except with you."
"I calc'late better than they. Hev you got the ten dollars that you
agreed to pay ef you couldn't meet the note?"
"Yes," said Hiram, "I raised the ten dollars."
"All right," said the squire, briskly, "I thought you could. As long as
you pay that, you can keep the cow six months more, one a new contrack."
"Don't you think, Squire, it's rather hard on a poor man, to make him
forfeit ten dollars because he can't meet his note?"
"A contrack's a contrack," said the squire. "It's the only way to do
business."
"I think you are taking advantage of me, Squire."
"No, I ain't. You needn't hev come to me ef you didn't want to. I didn't
ask you to buy the cow. I'll trouble you for that ten dollars, neighbor,
as I'm in a hurry."
"On the whole, Squire, I think I'll settle up the note. That'll be
cheaper than paying the forfeit."
"What! Pay forty-one dollars and twenty cents!" ejaculated the squire,
incredulously.
"Yes; it's more than the cow's worth, but as I agreed to pay it I
suppose I must."
"I thought you didn't hev the money," said the squire, his lower jaw
falling; for he would have preferred the ten dollars' forfeit, and a
renewal of the usurious contract.
"I didn't have it when you were in last night; but I've raised it
since."
"You said you couldn't borrow it."
"I didn't borrow it."
"Then where did it come from?"
"My son Harry has got home, Squire. He has supplied me with the money."
"You don't say! Where is he? Been a-doin' well, has he?"
"Harry!"
Harry entered the room, and nodded rather coldly to the squire, who was
disposed to patronize him, now that he was well dressed, and appeared to
be doing well.
"I'm glad to see ye, Harry. So you've made money, have ye?"
"A little."
"Hev you come home to stay?"
"No sir; I shall only stay a few days."
"What hev ye been doin'"
"I am going to be a printer."
"You don't say! Is it a good business?"
"I think it will be," said Harry. "I can tell better by and by."
"Well, I'm glad you're doin' so well. Neighbor Walton, when you want
another cow I'll do as well by you as anybody. I'll give you credit for
another on the same terms."
"If I conclude to buy any, Squire, I may come round."
"Well, good night, all. Harry, you must come round and see me before you
go back."
Harry thanked him, but did not propose to accept the invitation. He felt
that the squire was no true friend, either to himself or to his family,
and he should feel no pleasure in his society. It was not in his
nature to be hypocritical, and he expressed no pleasure at the squire's
affability and politeness.
I have thus detailed a few of Harry's early experiences; but I am quite
aware that I have hardly fulfilled the promise of the title. He has
neither lived long nor learned much as yet, nor has he risen very
high in the world. In fact, he is still at the bottom of the ladder. I
propose, therefore, to devote another volume to his later fortunes, and
hope, in the end, to satisfy the reader. The most that can be said thus
far is, that he has made a fair beginning, and I must refer the reader
who is interested to know what success he met with as a printer, to the
next volume, which will be entitled:
THE END