CLEARING SKIES
Elmer continued to hold the other’s quivering hand firmly in his
clasp.
“Try to control your feelings as much as you can, Amos, old boy,” he
went on saying in his comforting fashion. “And don’t tell me
anything that you may regret. You can depend on it, though, that
I’ll respect your confidence, and not even mention it to Perk and
Wee Willie, without your permission.”
“Oh! but I want them to know all about it too!” said Amos, looking
up, and winking his eyes violently, “because it’s only right. I
hope, ever so much, that you won’t despise me for s-s-sailing under
f-f-false colors, that’s all.”
“It’s nothing you have done, I’m sure of that, Amos,” said the
staunch chum, resolutely, “and that’s all we count. You’re not to be
held responsible for the actions of some one else. Now, go on and
tell me what you think best.”
He stepped over the log and sat down, drawing Amos alongside.
Throwing an arm about the other’s shoulder, Elmer waited to hear the
sad story, which in truth he could already more than half guess.
“Is it all about some trouble your father got himself into, Amos?”
he asked, seeing that the other hardly knew just how to begin.
“Yes, yes, that’s it!” sighed Amos. “My father was never known to do
mean things, but he certainly did slip up once, and everything came
from that terrible mistake. Just like a good many others do who are
tempted, he took money that didn’t belong to him, expecting to put
it back when a certain deal was carried through; but something
happened that turned the tide the wrong way, and he found himself—a
defaulter!”
“Yes,” said Elmer, soothingly, “it is a sad thing for you to
remember; since you must have cared a great deal for your father,
judging from what you say, and how you still suffer.”
“I loved him, we all did, for up to that time he had always been
good to us,” Amos confessed. “It was in hopes of bettering the
condition of his family that tempted him to do that terrible thing,
too, mother has said since, a thousand times.”
“He went away, you said, didn’t you?” continued Elmer, when the
other paused as if lost in contemplation of the distant past.
“Yes, to avoid being arrested, and bringing shame on his family,”
came the answer. “I shall never forget that awful day as long as I
live, though I was pretty young then, hardly ten. It came like a
hurricane out of a clear sky, father showing up, and looking almost
crazy, telling mother all about it, and that he must go away to try
to redeem himself.
“He left her all the money he had, and told her to take us children
to an old aunt of hers, who had means. Father vowed that he would
make no attempt to communicate with her, or ever come back, unless
he could square himself with the firm whose confidence he had
abused.
“From that terrible day to this we have never once heard from him.
Mother fully believes he has long been dead. She often talks of him
to me as we sit in the gloaming, and her thoughts go back to the
happy days of her young married life. I have his gold watch, left
for me, but which, of course, I shall not carry until I am grown up
and in business.
“The old aunt died shortly after we came to live with her, and left
her property to my mother, whom she dearly loved. It was enough to
keep us fairly comfortable, though we have to count the dollars; and
I may yet have to leave school and go to work, so as to help out.
“There, now you know everything, Elmer; do you think you still care
to be chummy with the son of——”
“Stop right there, Amos!” commanded Elmer, gruffly, for he was in
reality almost choking with emotion himself in sympathy with the
poor chap at his side, who wanted so to cling to him, and yet
determinedly pushed himself away, as if feeling not worthy to
associate with fellows upon whose heads no such dark shadow rested.
“If anything, you’re more my chum than ever. A pretty pal I’d be to
hold back when you’re in need of sympathy. And both Perk and Wee
Willie will say the same thing, you can bank on it.”
Amos drew a long lingering breath as of intense relief. He also
seemed on the point of breaking down again, seeing which Elmer
hastened to add:
“Now brace up, old fellow, and begin to believe things may not be
_quite_ so black as they seem. One thing you can depend on, that not
a living soul in all Chester will ever know about your trouble
through any of us. We’ll keep your secret, and not even drop a hint
to our folks at home. You’re certain about that knife once being
your father’s, are you Amos?”
“Oh! absolutely!” exclaimed the other; “I’d know it anywhere, for it
used to be a great wonder to me. Besides, I saw his initials
scratched on the handle, just as in the old days. Father had owned
that knife a long time, and used to think a heap of it.”
Elmer remembering how the unknown tramp had hung around all this
time just to recover the knife, could not help feeling that the
present possessor must also have considerable affection for the
thing, whoever he might turn out to be.
“But during seven years it could easily have fallen into other
hands, you understand,” continued Elmer. “It might have been lost,
or stolen, in fact, passed through a variety of adventures by now.”
“I think you mean to say that if my father died some one with him at
the time would have taken possession of the knife,” remarked Amos,
again drawing a long breath; “which is perfectly true. I am not
saying that I believe the tramp to be my poor unfortunate dad; but
it was the sight of the knife turning up in this queer way after all
these years that unnerved me so.”
“What sort of a man was your father, Amos—I mean did he happen to be
tall, or short; and was he athletic or otherwise?” continued Elmer,
evidently with some object in view; at least the other suspected as
much, for he turned to look inquiringly into his face before
answering.
“Why,” Amos went on presently, “you see, he never could play
football or baseball when a boy because he had one leg a bit shorter
than the other. This didn’t interfere with his walking at all;
because I’ve tramped many miles alongside him, for we were
always—quite—chummy.”
“Was it his left leg that was the shorter?” pursued Elmer.
“That isn’t just a guess, is it?” demanded the other; “you seem to
know, Elmer! Tell me what it means, oh! please do!”
Elmer looked at him rather uncertainly. Then, as if making up his
mind he had no business to hold back anything from a chum, he went
on to explain.
“You know I pride myself somewhat on my woodcraft knowledge, Amos;
and it was easy for me to discover that the unknown—er, party who
has been hanging about our camp here, hoping to recover that knife,
had a short left leg; for his right foot always showed much more
plainly than the other.”
Amos groaned.
“Then it is he!” he muttered. “Poor dad, and poor mother! Oh! what
wouldn’t I give, if I had never been tempted to come up here with
you to Log Cabin Bend. Then perhaps I’d still be contented in
believing that he had long ago ceased to suffer in body and mind.”
“Will you tell your mother when you go back home, Amos?”
“Had I better, do you think?” he asked, almost desperately.
“You must settle that for yourself, Amos. Think it over before you
decide one way or the other. Your first consideration should be the
happiness of the mother you love so much. Will it do any good to
share your secret with her; or must it reopen old wounds that time
has partly healed?”
“That’s it!” muttered Amos, shaking his head sadly. “I know how she
will begin to lie awake nights again like she did before, and look
so sorrowful, always watching down the road as if half hoping to see
him come limping along, waving his hand to us, as he did every night
when returning from the office. Yes, I mustn’t be rash: I would cut
my hand off sooner than do a thing to make my mother cry as she used
to years ago.”
Elmer began to see that possibly it might be up to him to try to get
in touch with the tramp, and learn just who and what he was. He
could understand what a cruel shock it must be to Amos even to
suspect that his father could reach the low level of a common
wanderer on the face of the earth, a hobo!
“You meant it when you said you wanted Perk and Wee Willie to know
about this matter, did you, Amos?” he asked presently.
“Yes, I insist on it,” said the other, hastily. “I’m tired of
sailing under false colors. If my chums all know my sad story it
must be up to them to decide whether they want to keep up their
contact with me, or drop me. But you must tell them, Elmer; I
couldn’t have the heart to go over it all again.”
“I promise you I will, now you’ve given me permission, Amos; and
make your mind easy. I know both of our pards too well to doubt what
they’ll surely do. They may not be able to say much, but their
actions will speak louder than words.”
“You’re all the finest chums any one could ever have, and it’d
nearly break my heart if you turned back on me. Do you know, I’ve
had the queerest things flit through my mind while thinking it all
over.”
“Such as what, Amos?”
“For one thing I would picture my father crouching in the bushes off
yonder and staring hard at us while we sat around the campfire last
night, yet not daring to join the circle. I even wondered, Elmer,
whether he could recognize me, for I’ve changed a lot in these seven
years, of course; and how he must have felt at not being able to
make himself known, just because he thinks that old charge still
hangs over his head.”
“But doesn’t it?” demanded Elmer, suddenly thrilled somehow.
“Why, of course not,” said Amos, simply. “When mother came into the
property of her old aunt, one of the first things she did was to
have an interview with the head of the firm my father used to be
with. She found out the amount of his defalcation, and paid it. That
was what cut down our allowance so, and made us scrimp sometimes;
but my mother always gloried in clearing his name. Oh, if he is only
alive, and could learn that, what might not happen?”
“Courage, Amos!” said Elmer, “you’ve boosted the game a heap in
telling me that.”