WhenJohn awoke the next morning he found it difficult at first to understand where he was; but recollection soon came to his aid, and he remembered that he was Mr. Huxter's guest. He rose from the cot-bed, and, going to the window, looked out. The prospect was not a very pleasant one. Just across the street was a pasture, with here and there a gnarled and stunted tree. The immediate neighborhood of Mr. Huxter's house has already been described.
"I don't wonder they call it Hardscrabble," thought John. "I shouldn't like to live here."
At this moment Mr. Huxter's head was thrust in through the open door.
"Come, Oakley," said he, "it's time to get up. We don't want any lazy folks here."
"I was tired with my ride yesterday, and overslept myself," said John.
"Well, dress as quick as you can," said Mr. Huxter, turning to descend the stairs.
"I don't see any washbowl," said John, hesitating.
"You can come downstairs and wash, like the rest of us," said Mr. Huxter. "You needn't expect us to lug up water for you."
John did not reply to this rude speech; but he could not avoid being struck by the change in the manner of his host. Mr. Huxter had, when first introduced, treated him with elaborate politeness. Now he treated him with downright rudeness, and as if he possessed some authority over him. John did not understand this, nor did he like it; but as it was only for a few days at the farthest, he resolved not to repay rudeness with rudeness, but to behave with as much respect as circumstances would allow. In the mean time he would ascertain as soon as possible the object of his visit, and so hasten matters as to allow of his return home with as little delay as possible.
Dressing hastily, he went downstairs, and found the breakfast-table spread in the kitchen. Mr. Huxter was seated at the table in his shirt-sleeves.
"Down at last, Oakley," he said. "Sit right up."
"I should like to wash first," said John.
"Well, there's the sink, and there's a tin basin," said Mr. Huxter.
"Wait a minute, Mr. Oakley," said Mrs. Huxter, "I'll wash out the basin for you."
"It's clean enough," said her husband.
"No, there's been some greasy water in it," said Mrs. Huxter.
"You're mighty anxious to wait on him," sneered Mr. Huxter. "You don't seem to think me of any consequence."
His wife did not reply. Poor woman! she had a hard time of it. She had always had to contend with poverty; but poverty is not the worst of evils. If her husband had been reasonably kind, she could have borne that without repining, though it subjected her to many privations which she well knew might have been avoided had not her husband been so shiftless and intemperate. But his temper was far from sweet. He was that detestable character, a domestic tyrant, and did all in his power to make his wife uncomfortable and unhappy. She had learned that her best course was to permit his taunts and harsh words to pass unheeded, for at such times reason had no weight with him.
It did not take John long to understand the position of affairs. He saw that Mrs. Huxter was disposed to be polite and kind to him, and he felt grateful. He could not help pitying her for having such a husband.
"Thank you, Mrs. Huxter," he said, when she had prepared the basin for him.
"I suppose you are accustomed to washing in your own room," she said.
"Yes," said John; "but it's of no consequence. I can wash down here just as well."
"Of course you can," said Mr. Huxter. "Come, be spry there, Oakley."
John washed himself deliberately, not thinking that it was necessary to hurry himself on Mr. Huxter's account, and sat down to the table.
"You're an enterprising young man," said Mr. Huxter. "I'm half through my breakfast, and you're just ready to begin."
"He had a long and tiresome journey yesterday," said Mrs. Huxter. "No wonder he was tired."
"So had I," said her husband. "You don't seem to think I can ever get tired, even when I've been working like a dog."
"What time is it?" asked John.
"Most seven."
"Seven is our breakfast-hour at home," said John, quietly. "As you did not tell me you breakfasted earlier here, you could not expect me to get up sooner than I did."
"That's true, Mr. Oakley," said Mrs. Huxter.
"So you're siding with him,—are you?" said Mr. Huxter, angrily.
John was far from being a coward. He was disposed to treat every one with courtesy and respect, but expected to be treated in the same way. Mr. Huxter's manner was so very offensive, and his words so dictatorial, that his anger was excited. He felt that he could not with proper self-respect remain silent longer.
"Mr. Huxter," he said, fixing his eyes calmly on the face of his host, "you seem to forget that I am your guest, and entitled to be treated with common politeness."
"Mr. Oakley is quite right," said Mrs. Huxter. "You have been very rude to him."
"Do you mean to say I'm not polite?" demanded Huxter, raising his voice.
It was not certain to whom this question was addressed,—to John or his wife. But John, who did not wish to get Mrs. Huxter into trouble on his account, hastened to reply:—
"You can judge for yourself, Mr. Huxter, whether you have treated me as I had a right to expect. I came here with you to oblige your sister, Mrs. Oakley. When the business is over, I shall go back. I suppose it will only occupy a short time. I shall tryto make you as little trouble as possible, and if you will let me know the rules of your house I will try to conform to them. To-morrow morning I shall be downstairs in time for breakfast."
Mr. Huxter would have been angry at these words, but the secret thought that John was in his power moderated his resentment. He laughed in his sleeve at the thought of John's dismay, when he learned that he was not here on a visit, but to remain for an indefinite period. This fact he had not mentioned even to his wife, who, therefore, could not help wondering what could be John's business.
"You've made quite a speech, Oakley," said he, sarcastically. "You may think it all right to charge a man with impoliteness in his own house, but for my part I think it cursed impudent."
"I do not intend to be impudent," said John.
"I don't know what you intend, but you are so," said Huxter.
"I hope you won't mind what he says," said Mrs. Huxter, distressed.
"Shut up, Mrs. Huxter! I'd rather you wouldn't interfere. I'll have it out with this young man without any help from you."
"I don't understand you, Mr. Huxter," said John,with dignity. "I have tried to treat you with proper respect."
"Yes, you've tried very hard."
"And I don't know why you have taken offence. I should like to know how long I am likely to be detained here on the business which has brought me here."
"Why do you want to know?"
"Because I think it would be better for both of us that I should go to the hotel, if there is one in the village. I am afraid we are not likely to agree very well, and then I shall not interfere with any of your arrangements."
"Who do you expect is going to pay your hotel bills?" demanded Mr. Huxter, with a sneer.
"I think there will be no difficulty about that," said John.
"If you think my sister will pay any such bills you are mistaken."
"As I came here on business of hers she will probably pay it. If she is unwilling, I will pay it myself."
"Indeed!" said Mr. Huxter, pricking up his ears. "Where will you get the money?"
"I hope you will not take offence, Mr. Huxter, if I decline to answer that question."
"Have you got any money with you?"
"I decline answering."
Mr. Huxter was about to make an angry reply; but a moment's thought led him to change his purpose. He was anxious to find out how much money John had.
"Have you got money enough to keep you at the hotel a week?"
"Shall I need to remain here a week?" asked John, a little disturbed at the thought of having his studies interrupted for so long a time, especially as there seemed so little prospect of deriving any enjoyment from his visit.
"Perhaps longer."
"If I don't have money enough, I will write to Mrs. Oakley for more," he said.
"I can tell you beforehand that you won't get any."
"We won't dispute about that," said John. "I shall be glad to go about this business at once, as I do not wish to be kept away from my studies any longer than is absolutely necessary."
"I'm thinking, young man," said Mr. Huxter, "that it will be a good while before you go back to your Latin and Greek."
"Why so?" said John.
"Read that, and you'll know," said Mr. Huxter; and he drew a note from his pocket, and handed it to John.
Johnopened the note, little suspecting the nature of its contents. It was as follows:—
"John Oakley:—I have made an arrangement with my brother to have you board with him for the present. As you and Benjamin find it so difficult to agree, it will be much better that you should live apart. If you had not treated him so brutally I should not be under the necessity of sending you away from home. I hope you will give my brother no trouble, but will follow his directions. He understands what course I wish him to pursue with you. If he reports favorably of you, I will send for you to return at a proper time.""Jane Oakley.""P. S. I will forward your trunk by express, early next week."
"John Oakley:—I have made an arrangement with my brother to have you board with him for the present. As you and Benjamin find it so difficult to agree, it will be much better that you should live apart. If you had not treated him so brutally I should not be under the necessity of sending you away from home. I hope you will give my brother no trouble, but will follow his directions. He understands what course I wish him to pursue with you. If he reports favorably of you, I will send for you to return at a proper time."
"Jane Oakley."
"P. S. I will forward your trunk by express, early next week."
John read this cold and unjust letter with mingled anger and dismay. It was hard to have all the blame of his quarrel with Ben thrown upon him, when Ben had been the aggressor, and he had only contendedfor his just rights. So he was to be exiled from home on Ben's account. He could not help thinking how happily his father and he used to live together before the present Mrs. Oakley came to the farm as house-keeper. And now she and her son had taken possession, and he was turned adrift. What would his father have thought, could he have foreseen what would happen so soon after his death!
These thoughts, and others not less disturbing, passed through John's mind as he read his stepmother's letter. Mr. Huxter's eyes were fixed upon his face in cruel exultation, for he imagined the nature of John's feelings, and enjoyed his sorrow.
"Well, Oakley, what do you say to that?" he demanded.
"I don't know what to say," said John.
"No, I presume not. The fact is, you haven't got anything to say in the matter. My sister is your natural guardian, and she has sent you to me to manage. She says you're rather a tough subject; but I reckon I can manage you. You'll find me a little harder to deal with than a woman, I can tell you that."
John did not reply. Indeed, he hardly knew what Mr. Huxter had been saying. So many thoughts crowded in upon his mind with regard to the suddenchange in his position that he paid little attention to what was said.
"Is this the only business on which Mrs. Oakley sent me?" he asked, at length.
"It's enough, isn't it?" demanded Mr. Huxter, with a laugh. "So you hadn't the least idea what was the object of your expedition?"
"No, I had not," said John, indignantly. "I had no suspicion that it was only a trap."
"I knew you hadn't," said Mr. Huxter, laughing with evident enjoyment. "You were pretty well taken in, hey?"
"I was taken in," said John, shortly.
"Sister Jane was pretty cute. She knew you'd be making a fuss, if you knew. I told her that once I got you here there wouldn't be any more trouble. So now you know all about it, and you may as well settle down to staying here."
Mrs. Huxter, to whom all this was news, listened with earnest attention. She was a good-hearted woman, and she couldn't help pitying John. She liked her sister-in-law, now Mrs. Oakley, no better than John did, and was very thankful when, after a two years' residence under her roof, she had obtained a position as house-keeper at a distance. She readily came to the conclusion that John had been harshlyand unjustly treated, and she could not forbear expressing her sympathy.
"I did not know you were going to remain with us, Mr. Oakley," she said. "I'll try to make you comfortable as long as you stay."
"Thank you, Mrs. Huxter," said John, gratefully; for he could understand the kindness which led her to speak.
"You needn't mister him," said Mr. Huxter, roughly. "It's ridiculous to call such a boy 'Mr.'; it'll make him put on airs worse than ever."
"I do not know his first name," said Mrs. Huxter.
"My name is John," said our hero.
"Then I will call you so, if you are willing."
"If he is willing! Don't make a fool of yourself, Mrs. Huxter. It makes no difference whether he is willing or not."
"I shall be glad to have you call me John," said our hero, without regarding Mr. Huxter's brutal speech.
John rose from the table. He had not eaten much, for Mr. Huxter's coarseness, and the note from his stepmother, had taken away his appetite.
"Won't you have something more, John?" asked Mrs. Huxter. "You've eaten very little."
"No, thank you. I don't feel much appetite this morning."
He took his hat, and was about to leave the house by the back door which led out of the kitchen.
"Where are you going, Oakley?" demanded Mr. Huxter.
"I am going out for a walk," said John, shortly.
Mr. Huxter hesitated whether to obey the dictates of the petty tyranny which impelled him to forbid John to go out, but finally decided not to interfere at present. He contented himself, therefore, with saying:—
"I expect you to return within an hour."
John made no reply, but his manly spirit revolted against such contemptible despotism. He did not recognize Mr. Huxter's authority, and did not mean to. He resolved to take an independent stand at once, and return when he pleased, and no sooner. I wish it to be distinctly understood that John did not expect, at his present age, to enjoy all the privileges of a grown man. He was always respectful to rightful authority, but he considered that Mr. Huxter's authority was not rightful, and that his commands ought to have no weight with him. Mr. Huxter did not know the character with which he had to deal. He did not know that John could be as firm undersome circumstances, as he was compliant in others. If he had known him better he might have felt less confident of triumphing over him.
When he left the room Huxter turned to his wife, and said, harshly:—
"I've got something to say to you, Mrs. Huxter. You needn't trouble yourself to take that boy's part. He is a proud-spirited young rascal, and he needs taking down."
"He seems to me a very good sort of boy," said his wife.
"That shows what a good judge you are," said Mr. Huxter, with a sneer. "He's a young bully, and was all the time fighting with Ben."
"I always thought Ben inclined to be a bully," said Mrs. Huxter.
"Well, he is a proud young upstart," admitted his uncle, who had not forgiven Ben's disdain. "Got some of the Brayton blood in him. But the other's just as bad. It's six of one and half a dozen of the other. However, wife," pursued Mr. Huxter, with a change of tone, "it's likely to be a good thing for us. We're to have six dollars a week for boarding young Oakley."
"That's very good pay. I really think we ought to make him comfortable."
"He won't get much favor from me. I promised Jane I'd break his proud spirit, and I'm going to do it. I shall set him to work next week in the shop."
"Set him to work while we are getting six dollars a week for his board!" exclaimed Mrs. Huxter, in astonishment.
"Yes, that's what Jane told me to do."
"But his work alone will more than pay his board."
"All the better for us."
"But I don't think, Mr. Huxter, you have the right to do it."
"That shows how little you know about it. Isn't Jane his guardian?"
"Does she agree to the arrangement?"
"Of course she does. She told me I might do it."
"And she will be willing to pay his board besides?"
"Yes. You see I represented to her that now she was a rich woman she ought to do something for her only brother, and that's the way she's going to do it. It's a good thing for both of us. She gets rid of a troublesome young rascal, and I get handsomely paid for taking charge of him. It's a very simple arrangement."
"I can't seem to think it's right," said Mrs. Huxter, slowly.
"Then you're a fool," said Mr. Huxter, not very politely.
"I'm afraid there'll be trouble," thought Mrs. Huxter, nervously, but she did not reply.
Johnfelt that he was in a difficult situation, and he went out, not so much for a walk, as to gain time to consider what he should do under the circumstances. He guessed without much difficulty the reason which had led to his banishment. Mrs. Oakley did not like him, he was aware, and it was natural that she should take measures to remove him from the house. But John felt that, though this was one reason, it was not the principal reason. He was satisfied that she wished to have him out of the way while she was looking for the will. But since the discovery of the will could only be of advantage to him, and strip her of two-thirds of the property, he was forced to the conclusion that, if she found it, it would be only to destroy it, or put it away where he would never be likely to find it. He was thoroughly convinced of this, but he asked himself in vain what he could do under the circumstances. There he wasat a loss. He could not return and force Mrs. Oakley to keep him at home, or if so, he well knew that she would manage to make his position very uncomfortable. Mrs. Oakley certainly had every advantage over him. It would not be prudent, he knew, to reveal his suspicion, for he had no proof to bring forward. What should he do?
Mrs. Oakley meant him to remain with her brother; but he had already seen enough of Mr. Huxter's petty tyranny and intemperate habits, to decide that he could never be happy or ordinarily comfortable with him. Of the two, Mrs. Oakley seemed preferable. Mrs. Huxter, to be sure, seemed to be a good-hearted woman, but she was a victim of her husband's tyranny, and her well-meant interference, without doing him any good, would very likely bring her into trouble.
Finding his perplexity only increase, John adopted a sensible resolution. He determined to lay the matter before some one who was older and wiser than himself, and be guided by his advice. He decided to write to Squire Selwyn, his father's lawyer and friend, who was already well acquainted with all the circumstances of the case, and ask his advice. If he should write at once, he calculated that an answer might reach him by the fourth day, and until then hethought he could endure Mr. Huxter's disagreeable manners. As to the will, he thought it more than probable that it would never be found, or, if found, it would never do him any good. If Mrs. Oakley would carry out his father's plans, permit him to continue his studies and go through college, he would then be able to make his own way, and would not trouble himself about the property.
While engaged in these reflections he had been slowly walking up the road towards the village. It was not much of a village, not more than twenty houses in all, including a church, a school-house, the tavern, and a store. Knowing something of the custom in country villages, John rightly concluded that the post-office would be found in the store. He entered therefore, and looked about him. It was a common country store, with a stock of a very miscellaneous assortment of articles, from sugar and dried apples to calico and tape. One corner was appropriated to the use of the post-office. John walked up to the counter and asked:—
"Have you any writing paper and envelopes?"
"Yes," said the clerk, producing the articles.
John bought two sheets of paper and two envelopes, thinking he might have occasion to write two letters, and then asked when the mail went out.
"It has already gone."
"When will the next mail go?"
"To-morrow morning."
"Will you allow me the use of your ink to write a letter?"
"Certainly. Just step behind the counter."
John followed directions, and, sitting down at the desk, commenced writing. He thought it better to write here than to do so at Mr. Huxter's, knowing that the suspicions of the latter would be excited.
It is not necessary for me to transcribe John's letter. He contented himself with stating plainly the situation in which he found himself, and the manner in which he had already been treated by Mr. Huxter, and wound up by asking Squire Selwyn's advice. Having concluded the letter, he directed it neatly, and, prepaying the postage, handed it to the clerk.
"All right," said the latter. "It'll go to-morrow morning."
When this matter was disposed of John felt more comfortable. He had transferred the responsibility of deciding what he should do to another in whom he had great confidence, and so felt a burden removed from his own shoulders. He thought he could stand Mr. Huxter's harsh treatment for a few days. Meanwhile, with the usual elasticity of youth, he began tofeel an interest in the new scenes by which he was surrounded. He had never before been so far away from home, and though Jackson was not a very attractive place, it was new, and so had a certain charm for him. About half a mile distant he saw a hill, which, though barren pasture land, would afford him a good view of the village. He determined to climb it, and look about him.
We must now return to Mr. Huxter.
Half an hour or more after John left the house he began to feel thirsty,—not that natural, healthful thirst to which we are all subject, but the artificial, craving thirst of one who has accustomed himself to the drinking of alcoholic mixtures. Thanks to the advanced payment for John's board which he had received from his sister, he was unusually well supplied with funds, and felt that he need work no more than he chose. After splitting up a little wood, therefore, he turned out of the yard, and walked towards the tavern. He went into the bar-room, and received a cordial greeting from the landlord, of whom he was a pretty steady customer.
"Good-morning, Huxter, where have you kept yourself for two or three days? You haven't been round to see me."
"I've been making a visit to my sister," said Huxter.
"Oh, that's it. I began to think you had taken the temperance pledge, and given up your old friends."
"I haven't come to that yet," said Mr. Huxter, in a tone which indicated that he considered taking the pledge a very discreditable proceeding.
"No; I thought you'd have too much sense for that. What'll you have this morning?"
"Give me a glass of something stiff. Let it be extra good, for I'm going to pay up the old score."
No doubt it was extra good, for Mr. Huxter drank it with evident enjoyment, and immediately ordered another glass. This, too, was drank, and after a little desultory conversation Mr. Huxter left the tavern.
It occurred to him that his stock of tobacco was out, and he went into the store hard by to lay in a fresh supply. While he was paying for it the clerk said:—
"You brought a boy home with you, Mr. Huxter, didn't you?"
"Yes. How'd you know?"
"I saw him on the stage, and somebody said he got off at your house. Going to stay with you?"
"Yes, I've taken charge of him."
"He seems a good sort of boy."
"When did you see him?" asked Mr. Huxter.
"This morning. He only went out from here a few minutes ago."
"Humph!" said Mr. Huxter. "Did he buy anything?"
"Only two sheets of paper and two envelopes."
A light began to dawn upon Mr. Huxter. John wanted to make trouble by writing home.
"Look here," said he; "if the boy brings in a letter you needn't send it. Keep it, and hand it to me."
The clerk looked surprised. Mr. Huxter, finding some explanation necessary, continued:—
"He's a very troublesome boy. He's almost broken his poor mother's heart,—she's my sister,—and I've agreed to take charge of him for a time. It takes a man to manage him. But it won't do for him to be writing home and making a fuss. You understand?"
"I shouldn't have thought him so troublesome. He looks very quiet."
"You can't judge from appearances," said Mr. Huxter, shaking his head. "He don't show out before folks. So, if any letters are put in directed to Hampton, just keep them, and I'll look them over. If they're proper to send, I will let them go."
"He wrote a letter here this morning."
"Did he?" asked Mr. Huxter, his eyes sparkling. "The young rascal's prompt. It's lucky I came in. He was cunning enough to write here, that I might not know anything about it. Let me see the letter."
The clerk, not doubting Mr. Huxter's authority, handed him the letter.
He broke it open hastily, and read it. It is needless to say that John's description of himself, though moderately expressed, was far from complimentary, and Mr. Huxter's heart was stirred with indignation.
"The young rascal shall pay for this," he thought.
"This letter is not fit to send," he said, aloud. "It would only make trouble. I will take charge of it. The boy needn't know but it is gone. You may take any letter he brings; but mind you don't send it till I have seen it."
"Very well," said the clerk; but he could not help pitying John, if he was to be under Mr. Huxter's guardianship. In a small village like Jackson every man's failings were a matter of general knowledge, and the estimation in which Mr. Huxter was held was not very high.
"Well, I've defeated the young rascal," thought Mr. Huxter, triumphantly, as he left the store. "He'll find it isn't so easy to outwit me. If Jane can't manage him I can, and I intend to. I reckon it'll be some time he'll have to wait for an answer to that letter."
This thought amused Mr. Huxter, so that he partly forgot his vexation at the unflattering description ofhimself which the letter contained. Having no further business to attend to, he went up the road towards home. The letter he put in one of the side-pockets of the loose coat which he wore. But there was a large hole in his pocket, and without Mr. Huxter's knowledge the letter slipped through. He kept on his way, not suspecting his loss.
The letter remained unnoticed in the grass by the side of the road, having been wafted there by the wind, until John, on his way home an hour and a half later, happened to catch sight of it. He went to pick it up, not suspecting what it was, and was immeasurably surprised when he found it to be the same letter he had put into the post-office two hours before. How came it there?
John was not long in guessing the truth. Mr. Huxter was determined that he should not communicate with any one in Hampton, and had recalled the letter. No doubt he had given instructions to the postmaster, which would make it impossible for John to post any letters in future in the village.
"I am very glad to know this," thought John; "I shall know better how to act."
He put the letter in his pocket, and kept on his way, determined to keep his discovery to himself. He began to see what sort of man he had to deal with.
Twelveo'clock was the dinner hour at Mr. Huxter's. John and he met once more, but the dispute between them was not renewed. John was deliberating as to what course he should pursue. Mr. Huxter was secretly exulting in having defeated John's attempt to communicate with his friends, little suspecting that John knew all about it. So on the whole he was pleasanter than usual, and allowed his young guest to eat in peace. Mrs. Huxter was glad to notice this change in his conduct, though she hardly dared to hope that it would continue.
"So you took a walk this morning, Oakley?" said Mr. Huxter.
"Yes, sir."
"Where did you go?"
"I went to the top of the hill behind the tavern."
"How do you like our village?"
"I can't tell yet. I haven't got sufficiently acquainted."
"You'll have chance enough before you get through," said Mr. Huxter, significantly.
John understood this very well; but did not see fit to show that he did so. He did not wish to provoke a quarrel.
"I am going to write to my sister this afternoon," said Mr. Huxter. "Perhaps you'd like to send a message."
"Thank you," said John; "I don't think of any message just at present."
"You wouldn't like to send your love to Ben, would you?" asked Mr. Huxter, jocosely.
"I don't think I should," said John, quietly.
"There isn't much love lost between you two, I reckon."
"We are not very good friends," said John, in the same quiet tone.
"I'm sure it's no wonder," said Mrs. Huxter; "Ben was always a troublesome, headstrong boy."
"Let me tell you, Mrs. Huxter," said her husband, sharply, "it doesn't look very well in you to run down your own relations."
Mrs. Huxter thought it prudent not to reply.
"Let me see," said Mr. Huxter, as they rose fromthe table, "it's Friday,—too late in the week to begin anything. You shall have till Monday morning to look about you, and then we'll see if we can't find something for you to do."
Here was a disclosure for John. He had understood that he was to board with Mr. Huxter. Now it appeared that the latter intended to set him to work. Had he any authority for doing so, and what was John's duty under the circumstances. He wished earnestly that he were able to consult Squire Selwyn without delay, and this reminded him that his letter had not yet gone. It would be useless to leave it again at the village post-office. It must go from some other. John had all the afternoon before him, and if the next town were not too far off, he determined to walk over and post his letter there. Not wishing Mr. Huxter to have any clue to his plans, he decided to obtain the necessary information, not from Mrs. Huxter, though he did not doubt her willingness to give it, but from some other person.
He went out into the road, and began to walk slowly in a direction opposite to that which he had taken in the morning. It was the stage road he knew, and was probably the most direct route to the next town.
Our hero had walked about three-quarters of a mile, when he heard a loud clattering sound behind him.Turning around, he saw a farm-wagon, driven by a boy of about his own age. It was but little past noon, and the walk which might be a long one was sure to be a hot one. As the boy-driver appeared to be alone, and there was plenty of room for another, John hailed him.
"Hallo!" he called out. "Hold on a minute."
"Whoa!" shouted the boy, and brought his horse to a stop.
"Are you going to the next village?" inquired John.
"To Milbank, you mean?"
"Yes," said John, who was not quite sure whether he meant it or not, but was willing to take the risk.
"Yes, I'm going there. Don't you want a ride?"
"That's just what I was going to ask. I'm willing to pay for it."
"I don't want any pay," said the boy; "I'd rather have company than go alone."
"How far is Milbank?"
"It's a pretty good piece,—most five miles."
John was glad he had not attempted to walk.
"You don't live round here, do you?" asked John's new acquaintance.
"No."
"I thought I hadn't seen you. Whereabouts are you stayin'?"
"At Mr. Huxter's."
"Is he a relation of yours?" asked the boy, looking at John with interest.
"No, he isn't," said John, hastily, unwilling for a moment to have it supposed that there was any such tie between him and his temporary host.
"Are you going to stay long?"
John was not surprised at these questions, for in the country, where he had always lived, it was the rule to be inquisitive about other people's affairs, and he felt that he ought to make some return for his ride.
"I don't think I shall," he said.
He would like to have replied decidedly in the negative; but he felt that he was by no means certain about the length of his stay.
"How do you like Huxter?" asked his new acquaintance, with rather a comical look.
"I've seen men I liked better," said John, smiling.
"Shouldn't wonder," said the other. "He gets awful tight sometimes."
"It is a pity," said John, "for Mrs. Huxter seems to be a good sort of a woman, and it must be hard on her."
"It would be hard for any woman to have such a husband. I don't know Mrs. Huxter much, but Inever heard anything against her. I've a great mind to tell you," said the boy, looking at John to judge whether he appeared as if he might be trusted with a secret, "a trick that one or two of the fellows played on Mr. Huxter once when he was drunk. But you'll be sure not to tell?"
John, whose curiosity was somewhat excited, gave the required promise.
"You see," continued his informant, "I was walking along with George Sprague one afternoon, when we came across old Huxter lying side of the road as drunk as he could be. George is rather a wild boy, and always up to some mischief or other. That afternoon he happened to have a little red paint, which he had got at the painter's shop for his father to use. As soon as we saw old Huxter snoring away, George winked to me, and said, 'Huxter's nose is red, but I've a great mind to make it a little redder. I should like to see how the old fellow will look.' With that he took out his brush, and touched Huxter's nose with it lightly, making it as red as a brick. I was afraid he would wake up and chase us, for he's pretty violent when he's drunk; but he was too far gone, and never stirred. George took the paint home, and then we came out to see if Huxter had gone home. We found he had, and we afterwards heard how the trick came out."
"When he got home and went into the kitchen, Mrs. Huxter screamed as soon as she saw him.
"'What's the matter with you?' he growled.
"'O Mr. Huxter!' she said, clasping her hands, 'I knew that drinking would be the ruin of you.'
"'Then you're a fool,' he said. 'Drinking a little now and then don't do me any harm; but you're a woman, and have no more sense than a kitten.'
"'You don't believe me, look at your nose,' said his wife.
"'What's the matter with my nose?' asked old Huxter, a little surprised.
"'Look at it, and you won't be surprised at my words.'
"With that Huxter did look, and when he saw his nose glaring red, he was pretty well frightened, I can tell you. He had no more suspicion than his wife that any one had been playing a trick upon him, and he was afraid that his nose would always be so. He got frightened and went to bed, and then asked his wife to go for the doctor."
"Did the doctor tell him how it was?"
"No; he thought it would do him no harm to be frightened a little; so he lectured him about his habits, but told him that he thought he could cure him this time by using a warm lotion. It was nothingbut warm water, with something put in to stain the water and make him think it was something else; but Huxter did not know that, and was very grateful to the doctor for relieving him.
"The fright had such an effect upon him that he didn't drink anything for a whole week. Then he began again, and got bolder by degrees, till now he's as bad as ever."
"How did you find out how the doctor treated the case?"
"Because George Sprague is the doctor's son. The doctor told all about it at home as a good joke. George heard it all, but never breathed a word to his father about his being the one that painted Huxter's nose. The doctor didn't say anything to George, but he looked at him rather queerly, as if he had some suspicion. It was a good joke,—wasn't it?"
"It would have turned out pretty well if it had stopped Mr. Huxter's drinking."
"Nothing will do that. He's a pretty hard case But you mustn't say a word about what I've been telling you. It would get George and me into trouble."
"No, I won't say anything about it."
"Where do you live?"
"In Hampton."
"Whereabouts is that? Is it far from here?"
"About eighty miles, I should think. It lies to the north."
"Is it a pleasant place?"
"I think so; but then I was born there, you know, and perhaps that is the reason I think so."
"Well, I was born in Jackson, but I don't think much of it. I guess we'll move away next spring. Father talks of selling his farm. What is your name?"
"My name is John Oakley."
"And mine is David Wallace."
The boys now felt thoroughly acquainted, and chatted together on a variety of subjects, such as interest boys. While they were in the midst of their conversation, they came to a grist-mill.
"I must stop here about ten minutes, to leave my grain," said David. "The village is a mile further on. If you'll wait I'll carry you there afterwards."
"I don't want you to go just on my account," said John.
"I am going there any way," said David. "There are better stores at Milbank than at home, and mother asked me to buy her two or three things. So you can come as well as not, and ride back too, if you don't want to stay long."
"Thank you, David," said John. "I shall be glad to accept your offer. It's rather hot walking, and I shan't want to stop but a few minutes. Shall you go anywhere near the post-office?"
"Close by."
"I'll just run in there a minute."
"Have you got anything else to do?"
"No."
"You didn't set out to walk just to go to the Milbank post-office, did you?" asked David, in some surprise.
"I had a letter to mail."
"Couldn't you mail it at our post-office?"
"Yes, I could; but it wouldn't go."
"Why not?"
"I've a great mind to tell you. You told me one secret, and I'll tell you another, but on the same condition,—you won't tell anybody?"
"I wish I may have my head chopped off if I do," said David, earnestly.
John felt sure that he could trust his new acquaintance, though they had so recently been brought to the knowledge of each other, and he wanted somebody to confide in. So he gave David Wallace a general idea of his story, not mentioning, however, the will, as he could see no advantage in so doing.
"So Huxter thinks you don't know anything of his having stopped your letter?"
"I am sure he does not."
"It's a good joke on him. He will never think of your coming so far to mail a letter."
Part of this conversation took place after they had left the mill, and were driving towards Milbank. They were soon in the village. It was a much larger and pleasanter place than Jackson, and much more important also, being the county seat, and therefore having a court-house and a jail. John looked around him with interest, and did not dream how lucky he was in taking this journey on this particular afternoon.
"Thatis the court-house," said David Wallace, pointing out a brick building, surmounted by a wooden cupola.
John glanced at the building to which his attention was thus called. He had hardly done so than he started and uttered an exclamation of surprise.
"What's the matter?" demanded David.
"Won't you stop the horse?" asked John, hastily. "I want to get out."
"What for?"
"There's a man I know. I want to speak to him."
David stopped the horse, and John sprang to the ground. He hurried to the gateway of the court-house, by which a gentleman was just entering.
"Squire Selwyn!" John called out.
Mr. Selwyn, for it was indeed he, turned in surprise, and could hardly believe his eyes.
"John Oakley!" he exclaimed; "is it really you?"
"Yes, sir."
"How came you here?"
"It is a long story, sir. Can you spare me fifteen minutes? I had written you a letter, and was just about to post it," said John.
"Yes, I will spare you that time. Come into the court-house with me, and we will find a chance to sit down."
"One minute, sir, and I will be with you."
John returned to the wagon, and said to the surprised David:—
"It is the gentleman to whom I was going to post a letter. I am going in to have a talk with him. I won't trouble you to stop for me, but I can walk home. I am very much obliged to you for bringing me so far."
"How long will you be?" asked David.
"Half an hour perhaps."
"I shall be here as long as that. I will go on and do my errands, and stop here on my way back. Then, if you are through, I will take you along. You would find it warm walking."
"You're very kind, David."
"I'd rather have company than not. It makes the time go quicker. So go ahead. It's all right."
David started the horse, and John rejoined the lawyer, who had been waiting for him.
"You say you were just going to post me a letter?" said Squire Selwyn.
"Yes, sir."
"Of course you have it with you?"
"Here it is."
"I will read it. That will be the shortest way of getting at what you wish to consult me about. After I have read it, I will ask any questions that seem needful. But first we will come in."
They entered the court-house, and went into a room to the left, where they found seats. Squire Selwyn put on his spectacles, and read the letter slowly and deliberately.
"You are in a difficult position, John," he said, when he had finished reading. "You are very unpleasantly situated, I should judge."
"Very, sir."
"And this Mr. Huxter doesn't seem a very agreeable man to have dealings with?"
"I should be very unhappy if I expected to be obliged to stay with him."
"You say he is intemperate?"
"He drank several times on his way back in thestage, and the boy with whom I rode over says he has been intemperate for years."
"Certainly he is not a fit person to have charge of you. Does he know that you have come over here to-day?"
"No, sir."
"It is evidently Mrs. Oakley's intention that you you should not be allowed to communicate with me, or any of your other friends in Hampton. So, no doubt, she has instructed her brother. There must be some motive for this."
Squire Selwyn looked thoughtfully at John as he said this, perhaps with a view of drawing out John's opinion.
"I think," said John, hesitatingly, "that she is going to look for the will."
"I won't say whether I agree with you or not," said Squire Selwyn, cautiously. "It is not best to charge any one with wrong thoughts or intentions too hastily, but it is well to be prepared for what may be done to our disadvantage. Of course it is for your interest that the will should be found, provided the discovery is made public."
"Yes, sir."
"But would Mrs. Oakley make it public, if found,when it is for her interest to keep it concealed? That is an important question."
"She can do what she pleases so far as I am concerned. She has sent me away from home, where I shall know nothing that is going on."
"In one sense you are wholly in the power of your stepmother," said the lawyer; "but you will have some one to look after your interests. Your father was my friend, and you are my son's friend. I shall do what I can in your behalf."
"Thank you, sir," said John, gratefully. "I felt sure you would, and that is why I wrote to you at once."
"As soon as I return to Hampton,—and that will be to-morrow,—I will call on Mrs. Oakley, and, without letting her know how I came by the information, will set before her your present position, and demand that she pursue a different course. The result I will communicate to you. How do you wish me to direct any letter I may have occasion to write?"
"To Milbank, if you please, Squire Selwyn. If directed to Jackson, I feel sure that it would fall into Mr. Huxter's hands."
"And never reach you. Very likely you are right. Then I will direct to Milbank, and will writeat once upon having my interview with Mrs. Oakley."
"Suppose Mr. Huxter ill-treats me in the mean time?" suggested John. "I think it is his intention to set me to work next week."
"Did he not say you were boarding with him?"
"That is what Mrs. Oakley said in her letter."
"Then if he is paid a full price for your board, I do not see that he has any claim upon your services. It is better, however, to avoid cause of quarrel until you hear from me."
"And if you cannot induce Mrs. Oakley to change her plans?" asked John. "You wouldn't advise me to stay with Mr. Huxter?"
"Didn't your father have a married sister?" inquired Squire Selwyn. "I think I have heard so."
"Yes, sir. Her husband kept a country store in the town of Wilton."
"That is about fifty miles to the westward. Well, though I don't in general approve of a boy's running away, it might be advisable, should your stepmother continue obstinate, and Mr. Huxter seem disposed to abuse you, to leave here, and seek out your aunt. Should you make this change, you would of course immediately communicate with me."
"Yes, sir. Thank you for the advice. I neverthought of that before; but I think it is the best thing I could do."
"Have you any money, John?" asked Squire Selwyn, putting his hand into his pocket.
"Yes, sir; thank you. I have thirty dollars."
"Indeed!" said the lawyer, surprised. "Did Mrs. Oakley supply you with so much?"
"No, sir; but when my father was alive he gave me an allowance of a dollar a week pocket-money. I had saved up thirty dollars, thinking I might some time want to make a large purchase,—a row-boat, or something of that kind. When I came away with Mr. Huxter, I thought I had better bring it with me."
"It is lucky you did so. You may have occasion to use it. Does Mr. Huxter know you have this money?"
"He knows I have some money," said John, "but probably does not suspect how much."
"I advise you to take care of it then. Such a man is not to be trusted. If he claims the power of controlling you, he may demand this money."
"I don't think he will get it," said John, resolutely.
"I hope not. You were always a quiet boy; but I have observed that you were not deficient in firmness."
"I hope you don't think me obstinate, Squire Selwyn," said John, smiling.
"No, I don't think you that."
"If I find myself in the wrong I am always ready to confess it and give up."
"That's right, my lad. It's a thing that some of us who are much older than you find it hard to do. By the way, I suppose you wonder how I happen to be here so opportunely for you."
"I have been wondering all the time, but did not like to ask."
"One of my clients placed some business in my hands relating to property which required me to consult the county records of this county."
"You didn't come through by the stage?"
"No, I thought it too long and tedious. So I came by a roundabout way which left me only twenty miles' staging. I travelled a greater number of miles than you, but in considerably less time. Now, John, is there anything more I can do for you before I set about the particular business which called me here?"
"No, sir, thank you. At least I think of nothing."
"One thing at least let me say. We don't know how this affair is coming out. Your stepmother mayprove wholly unmanageable, especially as the power is in her hands, as things are at present situated. Should there come a time when you have need of further money, let me know frankly, and I will see what I can do for you."
"You are very kind indeed, sir," said John, earnestly.
"I certainly ought to be. When I came to Hampton, a young lawyer and without acquaintances, your father took me by the hand, and placed his business in my hands, and influenced others to do the same. So I consider that he laid the foundation of my present prosperity, and therefore I shall not desert his son while he is in trouble."
"Thank you, Squire Selwyn," said John. "I did not know what you just told me; but I did know that my father looked upon you as one of his most valued friends."
"Well, John, good-by," said the lawyer, kindly, extending his hand. "Keep up a good heart, and something may turn up which may set matters right. Be sure to keep me apprised of your movements, and rely upon me to do what I can for you in Hampton."
John left the court-house much encouraged by the friendly words of Squire Selwyn. He felt that hewould prove a powerful friend, and his burden of care was diminished now that he had communicated his situation to such a friend.
Just then David Wallace drove up to the gate in his wagon.
"Have you got through your talk?" he asked.
"Just finished."
"Jump aboard then, and we'll be getting home."
"I've been pretty lucky to-day, David," said John.
"How's that?"
"In the first place, in finding my letter by the side of the road. But for that I should have thought it had gone straight. Next in meeting you, and being saved a hot walk; and again in just meeting the very man I wanted most to see."
"There's one thing you forgot," said David, roguishly.
"What's that?"
"The affectionate welcome you'll get from old Huxter when you reach home."
"I don't count much on that," said John, smiling in return.
"I'm glad you've overreached the old fellow," said David.
"He thinks he's overreached me."
"I know it. That makes it all the better."
John reached his temporary home about four o'clock. Mr. Huxter was not at home when he arrived, and remained ignorant of the important interview which had taken place between John and Squire Selwyn.