HOW PETER BRUSH CAME TO THE RESCUE.
“We sha’n’t miss him much, Tom,” said Brush, as Percy Burnett--as he
called himself--disappeared from view.
Tom breathed a sigh of relief.
“I never want to see him again,” he said.
“Nor I, unless I see him in the prisoner’s dock. He’s a regular rascal
and no mistake. It’s lucky I came up just as I did, Tom.”
“If you hadn’t I would have had to lie here all night, bound hand and
foot.”
“I am not sure but we ought to have served him as he wanted to serve
you,” said Mr. Brush. “It isn’t too late yet--we can overtake him.”
“Let him go, Mr. Brush. I don’t care to be revenged upon him. He tried
to rob me, but he has been defeated, thanks to you. And that reminds
me--how did you happen to get here just in the nick of time? We left
you this morning in St. Joe.”
“Just so, my lad. It is lucky, as you say, or as you mean, anyway.
Well, when I saw you last night, and found you so pleasant and social
like, I took a great fancy to you. Thinks I to myself--‘That boy’s the
right sort!’”
“Thank you for your favorable opinion, Mr. Brush.”
“You needn’t thank me, for I couldn’t help feeling the way I did. As
I was goin’ the same journey, I thought I’d like to hitch to you and
Dobson, though I didn’t much like him; but he seemed offish, and I saw
he didn’t want me. I didn’t know why then, but I know now.”
“I was very much disappointed when Mr. Burnett hurried me away from St.
Joe without seeing you.”
“So was I. I’d only gone out for half an hour to do a little shopping,
thinkin’ I’d find you when I came back. Well, when I got back to the
hotel, I looked round for you, and couldn’t find you. I thought maybe
you’d gone out to take a walk. To make sure, I asked the stable-boy if
he’d seen anything of a man and boy. He told me that you’d started off
in the stage only twenty minutes ago. That took me quite aback, and I
didn’t know what to do. I knew well enough what that rascal did it for.
He wanted to get me off the track. Now, Tom, I’m a determined sort of
man--kinder stubborn, I expect--and when I found how much he wanted to
separate us, I was bound to defeat his plans, if it cost me a hundred
dollars, partic’larly after a little discovery I made.”
“What was that, Mr. Brush?” asked Tom.
“I’ll tell you. A gentleman who was standin’ by, and heard what I asked
the stable-boy, said:
“‘Do you know them parties you are askin’ about?’
“‘No, I only met ’em last evenin’.’
“‘Well, the man’s a first-class rascal and swindler.’
“‘You don’t say!’ I answered. ‘Who is he, and what do you know about
him?’
“‘It’s Jim Dobson, the famous confidence man and forger. He’s served
more than one term in the State prison. He isn’t a very good companion
for that boy that’s traveling with him.’
“I was struck all of a heap when I heard that, Tom. I knew what you
told me, that this man had hired you for a secretary, or somethin’
of that kind. Of course I knew that was all a sham. What should a
jail-bird like him want of a secretary. It didn’t take me long to make
up my mind what his game was. I knew you had some money, for you had
told me so last night, and I concluded that that was what Dobson was
after. I saw that you would be robbed unless some friend interfered. I
determined to be that friend.”
Tom took the hard, toil-hardened hand of his new friend, and gratefully
pressed it.
“You were a friend when I most needed a friend,” he said.
“Oh, don’t mention it,” said Brush, hurriedly, for it always made him
feel awkward to be thanked. “I’m paid for all I’ve done by knowin’ that
I’ve come up with that pesky rascal.”
“But I don’t see how you managed to overtake us,” said Tom. “That is
what puzzles me.”
“Easy now, Tom, I’m comin’ to that. I asked the stable-boy if there was
another stage goin’ this way. He told me ‘not till to-morrow.’ I knew
that would never do. In twenty-four hours you’d get that start of me
that I couldn’t come up with you at all. There was only one thing to
do.”
“You don’t mean to say you walked?” said Tom.
“No; if I had tried that I should be fifteen miles back. It isn’t
favorable walking in this mud.”
Tom was more than ever puzzled. Mr. Brush was on foot, and there was no
apparent way in which he could have come otherwise, unless he had flown
and suddenly dropped down where he stood.
But our hero didn’t have to wait long to have his question answered.
Even as he wondered there fell upon his ear a clear, distinct, neigh.
Peter Brush laughed.
“That lets the cat out of the bag,” he said.
“Have you a horse, then?”
“Yes; he is only a few rods off.”
“I thought you were on foot.”
“I got off his back just before I came up with you. I wanted to take
you, or, leastwise, Jim Dobson, by surprise, and I reckon I did.”
“It was not a very pleasant surprise to him, Mr. Brush.”
“I didn’t mean it should be when I saw that scoundrel bendin’ over you,
and tryin’ to tie your hands and feet. I tell you I felt riled.”
“So did I,” said Tom, laughing.
“He thought you were completely in his power, but rascals sometimes do
get mistaken, thank the Lord!”
“Then you bought a horse?”
“Yes, I found that was the only way I could overtake you. I followed
the stage, a good way behind, but it wasn’t long before I began to gain
upon it. I didn’t expect you would get out of the stage, and when I saw
you and Dobson alone in this wood, I was surprised.”
“Mr. Burnett”--this name came more natural to Tom--“complained that his
limbs ached from riding, and he asked me to get out and walk with him.
I suspected nothing. I thought him a rich man, and didn’t think he’d
try to rob me of the little money I had with me.”
“Of course you didn’t. Has he paid you any wages?”
“No; the week wasn’t up. He offered to pay me a week in advance.”
“So he might, as he meant to take it from you again.”
“I didn’t think of that,” said Tom, laughing.
“It didn’t take me more’n fifteen minutes to find a horse and buy it,”
said Mr. Brush, proceeding with his story. “I didn’t have time to
examine it, and find whether it was sound, but I guess I got a good
bargain. Anyhow it’s worth sixty dollars, and that’s what I paid for
it. And now, Tom, that I’ve told my story, what do you say to hitchin’
horses?”
“I haven’t any horse to hitch, Mr. Brush.”
Peter Brush laughed loudly.
“I mean,” he explained, “that we might as well go along together, now
that you’ve got rid of that swindler.”
“With all my heart, Mr. Brush. I shall be glad of your company.”
“I ain’t goin’ to engage you as my secretary, for I wouldn’t know what
to do with one if I had him. I can’t pay you twelve dollars a week, but
if your money gives out I won’t see you suffer.”
“There’s one thing in the way, Mr. Brush,” said Tom, “I can’t keep up
with your horse.”
“I’ll buy you one, Tom, at the next haltin’ place.”
“No need of that, Mr. Brush; I’ll buy one myself.”
“Have you got money enough?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ll pick one out for you. I’ll see you don’t get cheated. Now,
my lad, it’s gettin’ dark, and we’d better push on. You get on the
horse, and I’ll trudge alongside.”
Tom consented to ride a part of the time. But it was ten o’clock, so
bad were the roads, before they reached the frontier village, and
secured an humble lodging for the night.