VINNIE'S ADVENTURE.
In due time a rough farm-wagon was backed down upon the wharf, and a
swarthy man, with a high, hooked nose, like the inverted prow of a ship,
boarded the schooner, and scratched his head, through its shock of
stiff, coarse hair, by way of salutation to Vinnie, who came on deck to
meet him.
"Do' no's you'll like ridin' with me, in a lumber-wagon, on a stiff
board seat."
"O, I sha'n't mind!" said Vinnie, who was only too glad to go.
"What part of the settlement ye goin' to?" he asked, as he lifted one
end of the trunk, while the captain took up the other.
"To Mr. Betterson's house; Mrs. Betterson is my sister," said Vinnie.
The man dropped his end of the trunk, and turned and glared at her.
"You've got holt o' the wrong man this time!" he said. "I don't take
nobody in my wagon to the house of no sich a man as Lord Betterson. Ye
may tell him as much."
"Will you take me to any house near by?" said the astonished Vinnie.
"Not if you're a connection of the Bettersons, I won't for no money!
I've nothin' to do with that family, but to hate and despise 'em. Tell
'em that too. But they know it a'ready. My name's Dudley Peakslow."
And, in spite of the captain's remonstrance, the angry man turned his
back upon the schooner, and drove off in his wagon.
It took Vinnie a minute to recover from the shock his rude conduct gave
her. Then she smiled faintly, and said,--
"It's too bad I couldn't have a ride in his old wagon! But he wouldn't
be very agreeable company, would he?" So she tried to console herself
for the disappointment. She had thought all along: "If I can do no
better, I will take the stage to North Mills; Jack will help me get over
to my sister's from there." And it now seemed as if she might have to
take that route.
The schooner was discharging her miscellaneous freight of Eastern
merchandise,--dry goods, groceries, hardware, boots and shoes,--and the
captain was too much occupied to do anything more for her that
afternoon.
She grew restless under the delay; and feeling that she ought to make
one more effort to find a conveyance direct to Long Woods, she set off
alone to make inquiries for herself.
The first place she visited was a hotel she had noticed in her morning's
walk,--the Farmers' Home; and she was just going away from the door,
having met with no success, when a slim youth, carrying his head
jauntily on one side, came tripping after her, and accosted her with an
apologetic smile and lifted hat.
"Excuse me,--I was told you wanted to find somebody going out to Mr.
Betterson's at Long Woods."
"O yes! do you know of anybody I can ride with?"
"I am in a way of knowing,--why, yes,--I think there is a gentleman
going out early to-morrow morning. A gentleman and his daughter. Wife
and daughter, in fact. A two-seated wagon; you might ride on the
hind-seat with the daughter. Stopping at the Prairie Flower."
"O, thank you! And can I go there and find them?"
"I am going that way, and, if you please, I will introduce you," said
the youth.
Vinnie replied that, if he would give her their names, she would save
him the trouble. For, despite his affability, there was something about
him she distrusted and disliked,--an indefinable air of insincerity, and
a look out of his eyes of gay vagabondism and dissipation.
He declared that it would be no trouble; moreover, he could not at that
moment recall the names; so, as there was no help for it, she let him
walk by her side.
At the Prairie Flower,--which was not quite so lovely or fragrant a
public-house as the name had led her to expect,--he showed her into a
small, dingy sitting-room, up one flight of stairs, and went to speak
with the clerk.
"The ladies will be here presently," he said, returning to her in a few
minutes. "Meanwhile I thought I would order some refreshments." And he
was followed into the room by a waiter bringing a basket of cake and two
glasses of wine.
[Illustration: TOO OBLIGING BY HALF.]
"No refreshments for me!" cried Vinnie, quickly.
"The other ladies will like some," said the youth, carelessly. "Intimate
friends of mine. Just a little cake and sweet wine."
"But you have ordered only two glasses! And a few minutes ago you
couldn't think of their names,--those intimate friends of yours!"
returned Vinnie, with sparkling eyes.
The youth took up a glass, threw himself back in a chair, and laughed.
"It's a very uncommon name,--Jenkins; no, Judkins; something like that.
Neighbors of the Bettersons; intimate friends of _theirs_, I mean. You
think I'm not acquainted out there? Ask Carrie! ask the boys, hi,
hi!"--with a giggle and a grimace, as he sipped the wine.
"You do really know my sister Caroline?" said Vinnie.
The youth set down his glass and stared.
"Your sister! I wondered who in thunder you could be, inquiring your way
to Betterson's; but I never dreamed--Excuse me, I wouldn't have played
such a joke, if I had known!"
"What joke?" Vinnie demanded.
"Why, there's no Jenkins,--Judkins,--what did I call their names? I just
wanted to have a little fun, and find you out."
Vinnie trembled with indignation. She started to go.
"But you haven't found _me_ out," he said, with an impudent chuckle.
"I've found out all I wish to know of you," said Vinnie, ready to cry
with vexation. "I've come alone all the way from my home in Western New
York, and met nobody who wasn't kind and respectful to me, till I
reached Chicago to-day."
The wretch seemed slightly touched by this rebuke; but he laughed again
as he finished his glass.
"Well, it was a low trick. But't was all in fun, I tell ye. Come, drink
your wine, and make up; we'll be friends yet. Won't drink? Here goes,
then!" And he tossed off the contents of the second glass. "Now we'll
take a little walk, and talk over our Betterson friends by the way."
She was already out of the room. He hastened to her side; she walked
faster still, and he came tripping lightly after her down the stairs.
Betwixt anger and alarm, she was wondering whether she should try to run
away from him, or ask the protection of the first person she met, when,
looking eagerly from the doorway as she hurried out, she saw, across the
street, a face she knew, and uttered a cry of joy.
"Jack! O Jack!"
It seemed almost like a dream, that it should indeed be Jack, then and
there. He paused, glanced up and down, then across at the girlish figure
starting toward him, and rushed over to her, reaching out both hands,
and exclaiming,--
"Vinnie Dalton! is it you?"
In the surprise and pleasure of this unexpected meeting, she forgot all
about the slim youth she was so eager to avoid a moment before. When she
thought of him again, and looked about her, he had disappeared, having
slipped behind her, and skipped back up the stairs with amazing agility
at sight of Jack.