CHAPTER V.HOT WORDS.
I cannot say that my first impression of Mr. Enos Norton was a favorable one. His manner was domineering, and evidently he intended to conduct matters to suit himself.
He knew nothing at all about running a mill, yet he expected to take sole charge. This, to say the least, was peculiar.
His assertion that my father’s estate was indebted to him to the amount of six hundred and fifty dollars astonished and dismayed me. What had my parent done with the greater part of this? and how was I ever to settle up?
The mill property as it now stood was not worth over twelve hundred dollars, and at a forced sale it was not likely that it would bring half that sum. How, then, was his claim to be met? and, when all was settled, what was to become of me?
By the time I had asked myself these questions we had reached the mill. Here I introduced Ford, and the three of us entered.
“Not such a good place as I expected to find,” remarked Mr. Norton, examining first one thing and then another. “You don’t seem to keep things in very good order.”
“We keep them in as good order as possible. Many of the things are worn so much that they cannot be repaired,” I replied.
“And it takes work to fix things up,” he added, with a hard look.
I did not reply, and I saw Ford toss his head.
“Well, let us go into the house part,” went on Mr. Norton. “I’m fearfully hungry. Got anything good?”
“I can give you some fried fish, bread and butter, and some blackberries,” I said, as I led the way into the living-room.
“Ain’t you got no coffee?”
“Yes, sir.”
“Then those things will do first rate. I’m fearfully hungry. Didn’t have a mouthful since this morning. Make the coffee good and strong.”
“I will, Mr. Norton.”
“Don’t call me Mr. Norton. I’m your Uncle Enos.”
“All right, Uncle Enos; I’ll try to remember.”
I went into the cook-shed, and began to prepare supper. I did not feel in good-humor, and my face must have shown it, for when Ford came in he remarked,—
“Your uncle ain’t going to play second, fiddle to nobody, is he?”
I shrugged my shoulders without replying. The prospects ahead were not very bright.
Presently I had to go into the living-room to get some spices out of the pantry. I found Mr. Norton in the act of taking a deep pull from a small black flask.
“My blackberry brandy,” he said, by way of an explanation. “I have to take it for a weak stomach.”
“Are you sickly?” I asked.
“Somewhat.”
I went out again; but through the crack of the door I saw him take another pull at the flask, and then put it in his pocket.
This was another action that I did not like. About the Bend were a number of men who spent every cent of their money for drink, and this had led me to become strictly temperate.
At length the meal was ready, and I set it on the table, and called in Ford. We sat down, and Mr. Norton helped himself to a liberal portion.
“Why don’t you take hold?” he asked, seeing that I scarcely touched a thing.
“I don’t feel like eating,” I replied. “I am waiting to hear about my father.”
“Oh, well, then, I’ll give you the whole story. Westarted out from Hamner’s Gulch one bright morning to go up what is known as the Black Hawk Ravine. Your father had an idea that he could set up a saw-mill there if a grinding-mill didn’t pay.”
“He never said anything about a saw-mill to me,” I put in.
“Your father was a very queer man,” said Mr. Norton. “Did he say anything about me in his letters, or about the money he borrowed?”
“Not a word.”
“I thought so. Guess he was ashamed of the money he let fly, traveling to this place and that, and paying a holding price down on half a dozen spots, and then letting them go.”
“But about the journey?” I said, anxious to get back to the particulars of my father’s death, which just now interested me more than anything else.
“Oh, yes! Well, we started out for the ravine, and we reached it about two o’clock in the afternoon. It was a wild spot, and I was for going back; but your father wanted to go ahead, and he did so, I following.”
“And was that where he lost his life?”
“Exactly. He was ahead, and by six o’clock it was getting dark. I called out to him to be careful, as we were then walking along a narrow ledge, and far below was a mountain torrent, ten times worse than this one you have here.”
“And this was the ledge he fell over?”
Mr. Norton nodded.
I shuddered. In imagination I could see my father going over, and clutching out vainly to save himself. It was a horrible thought.
“Yes, he went over. It was no use to try to save him, though I did spring forward. He went down, and struck on his head.”
“You went after him at once?”
“Of course; as quick as I could. He was alive yet, but he didn’t live very long; just long enough to settle up his private matters, and put me in charge of his affairs.”
“How is that?”
“He made me write it out on a bit of paper, and then he signed it. I didn’t want to do it, but he said I was his only relative, and I must.”
“Then he wanted you to take entire charge of his affairs?” I asked.
“That’s it. In other words, I was to become your guardian, Reuben.”
My heart sank at these words. As I have said, I did not take to my newly arrived relative from the start, and it was not a pleasant thought that in future he was to have full power over me. I heartily wished that my twenty-first birthday was at hand.
“I take it your father wasn’t no great businessman,” went on Mr. Norton, helping himself to more fish and another cup of coffee. “The state of affairs here shows that he wasn’t. He would have done better by remaining here than by going West as he did.”
This was not the first time that this man had said things derogatory to my father’s memory, and it made me angry.
“I think my father knew his own business best,” I cried. “He knew all about milling, and you don’t know a thing.”
“Don’t talk to me in this style,” cried Mr. Norton, turning quickly. “What I’ve said I’ll stick to; your father was no business man. He didn’t know how to manage.”
“He certainly made a mistake when he appointed you my guardian,” I replied pointedly.
Mr. Norton turned pale.
“What do you mean by that?” he demanded.
“I mean just what I say.”
“You don’t like the idea of my being set over you, eh?”
“No, I don’t.”
“Well, you’ll have to get used to it.”
“I don’t think I ever shall. I could never like any one who spoke of my father in the style you have done.”
“Hoity-toity! That is all boy’s talk.”
“I mean it.”
“Well, like me or not, you must remember that I am now in charge of everything. I shall expect you hereafter to do as I say.”
To this I did not reply. I looked at Ford, and saw that his lip was curled up. Evidently he did not like Mr. Enos Norton any more than I did.
“You have been having things here your own way too long. You have let the business go to the dogs, and all that sort of thing. Now all this has got to be stopped. I have got to get back my six hundred and fifty dollars, and then I have got to get what remains into shape, and invest it for your future good. How does your bank account stand at present?” and Mr. Norton stopped eating to hear my answer.
I paused before replying.
“Did you hear me?” he added. “How much money have you got in the bank?”
“Not a cent,” I returned. And somehow it gave me pleasure to say so.
“Not a cent! Come, I want the truth.”
“I have told the truth. We have no bank account.”
“Well, then, how much money have you on hand?”
“Not a dollar.”
“You mean that?”
“If I didn’t I wouldn’t say so. Business is bad, and I have all I can do to make both ends meet.I took in twenty-one dollars yesterday, and paid it out on account a few hours afterwards.”
Mr. Norton sank back in his chair. I could see that his hopes had had a great fall. Evidently he had expected me to mention quite a round sum.
“Then how do you expect to pay me my six hundred and fifty dollars?” he demanded after a spell of silence.
“I’m sure I don’t know.”
“I laid out the money, and I expect it back.”
“Well, as you have charge of my father’s affairs, you must get it back the best way you can,” I replied briefly.
“None of your impudence!”
“I am not impudent. I haven’t any money, and there is no money here belonging to father; that’s all there is to it.”
Mr. Norton jumped up from his chair and strode about the room.
“You are lying to me!” he cried passionately.
“I tell the truth.”
“I don’t believe a word of it,” he went on. “Your father had money, and either you have spent it, or else you intend to keep it from me. Now, I am going to know the truth.”
As Mr. Norton concluded he walked over to the corner, and caught up a hickory stick that stood behind the door.
“What do you intend to do?” I cried, as he advanced upon me.
“I am going to give you your first lesson in telling the truth,” he replied.
“You shall not touch me with that stick!”
“I will. You shall learn to mind me, and that the very first thing.”
And with these words Mr. Norton rushed on me, and grabbed me by the collar.