CHAPTER XVIAN EXPLORING EXPEDITION
The next day but one, there came a letter to Mrs. Dudley that increased her perplexity.
“Your Aunt Hannah is sick,” she said to Jack, “and I must go to take care of her. I don’t know what to do with you.”
“I’ll go to Port William to school,” said Jack. “See if I don’t.”
“How?” asked his mother. “We don’t know a soul on that side of the river. You couldn’t make any arrangement.”
“Maybe I can,” said Jack. “Bob Holliday used to live on the Indiana side, opposite Port William. I mean to talk with him.”
Bob was setting onions in one of the onion-patches which abounded about Greenbank, and which were, from March to July, the principal sources of pocket-money to the boys. Jack thought best to wait until the day’s work was finished. Then he sat, where Greenbank boys were fond of sitting, on the sloping top-board of a broad fence, and told his friend Bob of his eager desire to go to Port William.
“I’d like to go, too,” said Bob. “This is the last year’s schooling I’m to have.”
“Don’t you know any house, or any place, where we could keep ‘bach’ together?”
“W’y, yes,” said Bob; “if you didn’t mind rowing across the river every day, I’ve got a skiff, and there’s the old hewed-log house on the Indianny side where we used to live. A body might stay as long as he pleased in that house, I guess. JudgeKane owns it, and he’s one of the best-hearted men in the country.”
“It’s eight miles down there,” said Jack.
“Only seven if you go by water,” said Bob. “Let’s put out to-morry morning early. Let’s go in the skiff; we can row and cordelle it up the river again, though it is a job.”
Bright and early, the boys started down the river, rowing easily with the strong, steady current of the Ohio, holding their way to Judge Kane’s, whose house was over against Port William. This Judge Kane was an intelligent and wealthy farmer, liked by everybody. He was not a lawyer, but had once held the office of “associate judge,” and hence the title, which suited his grave demeanor. He looked at the two boys out of his small, gray, kindly eyes, hardly ever speaking a word. He did not immediately answer when they asked permission to occupy theold, unused log-house, but got them to talk about their plans, and watched them closely. Then he took them out to see his bees. He showed them his ingenious hives and a bee-house which he had built to keep out the moths by drawing chalk-lines about it, for over these lines the wingless grub of the moth could not crawl. Then he showed them a glass hive, in which all the processes of the bees’ housekeeping could be observed. After that, he took the boys to the old log-house, and pointed out some holes in the roof that would have to be fixed. And even then he did not give them any answer to their request, but told them to stay to dinner and he would see about it, all of which was rather hard on boyish impatience. They had a good dinner of fried chicken and biscuits and honey, served in the neatest manner by the motherly Mrs. Kane. Then the Judge suggested thatthey ought to see Mr. Niles about taking them into the school. So his skiff was launched, and he rowed with them across the river, which is here about a mile wide, to Port William. Here he introduced them to Mr. Niles, an elderly man, a little bent and a little positive in his tone, as is the habit of teachers, but with true kindness in his manner. The boys had much pleasure at recess time in greeting their old school-mates, Harvey Collins, Henry Weathervane, and, above all, Susan Lanham, whom they called Professor. These three took a sincere interest in the plans of Bob and Jack, and Susan spoke a good word for them to Mr. Niles, who, on his part, offered to give Jack Latin without charging him anything more than the rates for scholars in the English branches. Then they rowed back to Judge Kane’s landing, where he told them they could have thehouse without rent, and that they could get slabs and other waste at his little sawmill to fix up the cracks. Then he made kindly suggestions as to the furniture they should bring—mentioning a lantern, an ax, and various other articles necessary for a camp life. They bade him good-bye at last, and started home, now rowing against the current and now cordelling along the river shore, when they grew tired of rowing. In cordelling, one sits in the skiff and steers, while the other walks on the shore, drawing the boat by a rope over the shoulders. The work of rowing and cordelling was hard, but they carried light and hopeful hearts. Jack was sure now that he should overcome all obstacles and get a good education. As for Bob, he had no hope higher than that of worrying through vulgar fractions before settling down to hard work.
CHAPTER XVIIHOUSEKEEPING EXPERIENCES
Mrs. Dudley having gone to Cincinnati the next day to attend her sister, who was ill, Jack was left to make his arrangements for housekeeping with Bob. Each of the boys took two cups, two saucers, two plates, and two knives and forks. Things were likely to get lost or broken, and therefore they provided duplicates. Besides, they might have company to dinner some day, and, moreover, they would need the extra dishes to “hold things,” as Jack expressed it. They took no tumblers, but each was provided with a tin cup. Bob remembered the lantern, and Jack put in an ax. They did not take much food; they could buy that of farmers or in PortWilliam. They got a “gang,” or, as they called it, a “trot-line,” to lay down in the river for catfish, perch, and shovel-nose sturgeon, for there was no game-law then. Bob provided an iron pot to cook the fish in, and Jack a frying-pan and tea-kettle. Their bedding consisted of an empty tick, to be filled with straw in Judge Kane’s barn, some equally empty pillow-ticks, and a pair of brown sheets and two blankets. But, with one thing and another, the skiff was well loaded.
A good many boys stood on the bank as they embarked, and among them was Columbus, who had a feeling that his best friends were about to desert him, and who would gladly have been one of the party if he could have afforded the expense.
In the little crowd which watched the embarkation was Hank Rathbone, an old hunter and pioneer, who made several goodsuggestions about their method of loading the boat.
“But where’s your stove?” he asked.
“Stove?” said Bob. “We can’t take a stove in this thing. There’s a big old fire-place in the house that’ll do to cook by.”
“But hot weather’s comin’ soon,” said old Hank, “and then you’ll want to cook out in the air, I reckon. Besides, it takes a power of wood for a fire-place. If one of you will come along with me to the tin-shop, I’ll have a stove made for you, of the best paytent-right sort, that’ll go into a skiff, and that won’t weigh more’n three or four pounds and won’t cost but about two bits.”
Jack readily agreed to buy as good a thing as a stove for twenty-five cents, and so he went with Hank Rathbone to the tin-shop, stopping to get some iron on the way. Two half-inch round rods of ironfive feet long were cut and sharpened at each end. Then the ends were turned down so as to make on each rod two pointed legs of eighteen inches in length, and thus leave two feet of the rod for a horizontal piece.
“Now,” said the old hunter, “you drive about six inches of each leg into the ground, and stand them about a foot apart. Now for a top.”
OLD HANK'S PLAN FOR A STOVEOLD HANK’S PLAN FOR A STOVE
For this he had a piece of sheet-iron cut out two feet long and fourteen inches wide, with a round kettle-hole near one end. The edges of the long sides of the sheet-iron were bent down to fit over the rods.
“Lay that over your rods,” said Hank, “and you’ve got a stove two foot long, one foot high, and more than one foot wide,and you can build your fire of chips, instid of logs. You can put your tea-kittle, pot, pipkin, griddle, skillet,orgridiron on to the hole”—the old man eyed it admiringly. “It’s good for bilin’, fryin’,orbrilin’, and all fer two bits. They ain’t many young couples gits set up as cheap as that!”
An hour and a half of rowing downstream brought the boys to the old cabin. The life there involved more hard work than they had expected. Notwithstanding Jack’s experience in helping his mother, the baking of corn-bread, and the frying of bacon or fish were difficult tasks, and both the boys had red faces when supper was on the table. But, as time wore on, they became skilful, and though the work was hard, it was done patiently and pretty well. Between cooking, and cleaning, and fixing, and getting wood, and rowing to school and back, there was not a great deal oftime left for study out of school, but Jack made a beginning in Latin, and Bob perspired quite as freely over the addition of fractions as over the frying-pan.
They rarely had recreation, excepting that of taking the fish off their trot-line in the morning, when there were any on it. Once or twice they allowed themselves to visit an Indian mound or burial-place on the summit of a neighboring hill, where idle boys and other loungers had dug up many bones and thrown them down the declivity. Jack, who had thoughts of being a doctor, made an effort to gather a complete Indian skeleton, but the dry bones had become too much mixed up. He could not get any three bones to fit together, and his man, as he tried to put him together, was the most miscellaneous creature imaginable,—neither man, woman, nor child. Bob was a little afraid to have these humanruins stored under the house, lest he might some night see a ghost with war-paint and tomahawk; but Jack, as became a boy of scientific tastes, pooh-poohed all superstitions or sentimental considerations in the matter. He told Bob that, if he should ever see the ghost which that framework belonged to, it would be the ghost of the whole Shawnee tribe, for there were nearly as many individuals represented as there were bones in the skeleton.
The one thing that troubled Jack was that he couldn’t get rid of the image of Columbus as they had seen him when they left Greenbank, standing sorrowfully on the river bank. The boys often debated between themselves how they could manage to have him one of their party, but they were both too poor to pay the small tuition fees, though his board would not cost much. They could not see any way of getting overthe difficulty, but they talked with Susan about it, and Susan took hold of the matter in her fashion by writing to her father on the subject.
The result of her energetic effort was that one afternoon, as they came out of school, when the little packet-steamer was landing at the wharf, who should come ashore but Christopher Columbus, in his best but thread-bare clothes, tugging away at an old-fashioned carpet-bag, which was too much for him to carry. Bob seized the carpet-bag and almost lifted the dignified little lad himself off his feet in his joyful welcome, while Jack, finding nothing else to do, stood still and hurrahed. They soon had the dear little spindle-shanks and his great carpet-bag stowed away in the skiff. As they rowed to the north bank of the river, Columbus explained how Dr. Lanham had undertaken to pay his expenses,if the boys would take him into partnership, but he said he was ’most afraid to come, because he couldn’t chop wood, and he wasn’t good for much in doing the work.
“Never mind, honey,” said Bob. “Jack and I don’t care whether you work or not. You are worth your keep, any time.”
“Yes,” said Jack, “we even tried hard yesterday to catch a young owl to make a pet of, but we couldn’t get it. You see, we’re so lonesome.”
“I suppose I’ll do for a pet owl, won’t I?” said little Columbus, with a strange and quizzical smile on his meagre face. And as he sat there in the boat, with his big head and large eyes, the name seemed so appropriate that Bob and Jack both laughed outright.
But the Pet Owl made himself useful in some ways. I am sorry to say that the housekeeping of Bob and Jack had notalways been of the tidiest kind. They were boys, and they were in a hurry. But Columbus had the tastes of a girl about a house. He did not do any cooking or chopping to speak of, but he fixed up. He kept the house neat, cleaned the candlestick every morning, and washed the windows now and then, and as spring advanced he brought in handfuls of wild flowers. The boys declared that they had never felt at home in the old house until the Pet Owl came to be its mistress. He wouldn’t let anything be left around out of place, but all the pots, pans, dishes, coats, hats, books, slates, the lantern, the boot-jack, and other slender furniture, were put in order before school time, so that when they got back in the afternoon the place was inviting and home-like. When Judge Kane and his wife stopped during their Sunday-afternoon stroll, to see how thelads got on, Mrs. Kane praised their housekeeping.
“That is all the doings of the Pet Owl,” said Bob.
“Pet Owl? Have you one?” asked Mrs. Kane.
The boys laughed, and Bob explained that Columbus was the pet.
That evening, the boys had a box of white honey for supper, sent over by Mrs. Kane, and the next Saturday afternoon Jack and Bob helped Judge Kane finish planting his cornfield.
One unlucky day, Columbus discovered Jack’s box of Indian bones under the house, and he turned pale and had a fit of shivering for a long time afterward. It was necessary to move the box into an old stable to quiet his shuddering horror. The next Sunday afternoon, the Pet Owl came in with another fit of terror, shivering as before.
“What’s the matter now, Lummy?” said Jack. “Have you seen any more Indians?”
“Pewee and his crowd have gone up to the Indian Mound,” said Columbus.
“Well, let ’em go,” said Bob. “I suppose they know the way, don’t they? I should like to see them. I’ve been so long away from Greenbank that even a yellow dog from there would be welcome.”
CHAPTER XVIIIGHOSTS
Jack and Bob had to amuse Columbus with stories, to divert his mind from the notion that Pewee and his party meant them some harm. The Indian burying-ground was not an uncommon place of resort on Sundays for loafers and idlers, and now and then parties came from as far as Greenbank, to have the pleasure of a ride and the amusement of digging up Indian relics from the cemetery on the hill. This hill-top commanded a view of the Ohio River for many miles in both directions, and of the Kentucky River, which emptied into the Ohio just opposite. I do not know whether the people who can find amusement in digging up bones and throwingthem down-hill enjoy scenery or not, but I have heard it urged that even some dumb animals, as horses, enjoy a landscape; and I once knew a large dog, in Switzerland, who would sit enchanted for a long time on the brink of a mountain cliff, gazing off at the lake below. It is only fair to suppose, therefore, that even these idle diggers in Indian mounds had some pleasure in looking from a hill-top; at any rate, they were fond of frequenting this one. Pewee, and Riley, and Ben Berry, and two or three others of the same feather, had come down on this Sunday to see the Indian Mound and to find any other sport that might lie in their reach. When they had dug up and thrown away down the steep hill-side enough bones to satisfy their jackal proclivities, they began to cast about them for some more exciting diversion. As there were no water-melon patches nororchards to be robbed at this season of the year, they decided to have an egg-supper, and then to wait for the moon to rise after midnight before starting to row and cordelle their two boats up the river again to Greenbank. The fun of an egg-supper to Pewee’s party consisted not so much in the eggs as in the manner of getting them. Every nest in Judge Kane’s chicken-house was rummaged that night, and Mrs. Kane found next day that all the nest-eggs were gone, and that one of her young hens was missing also.
About dark, little Allen Mackay, a round-bodied, plump-faced, jolly fellow who lived near the place where the skiffs were landed, and who had spent the afternoon at the Indian Mound, came to the door of the old log-house.
“I wanted to say that you fellows have always done the right thing by me. You’veset me acrost oncet or twicet, and you’ve always been ‘clever’ to me, and I don’t want to see no harm done you. You’d better look out to-night. They’s some chaps from Greenbank down here, and they’re in for a frolic, and somebody’s hen-roost’ll suffer, I guess; and they don’t like you boys, and they talked about routing you out to-night.”
“Thank you,” said Jack.
“Let ’em rout,” said Bob.
But the poor little Pet Owl was all in a cold shudder again.
About eleven o’clock, King Pewee’s party had picked the last bone of Mrs. Kane’s chicken. It was yet an hour and a half before the moon would be up, and there was time for some fun. Two boys from the neighborhood, who had joined the party, agreed to furnish dough-faces for them all. Nothing more ghastly thanmasks of dough can well be imagined, and when the boys all put them on, and had turned their coats wrong-side out, they were almost afraid of one another.
“Now,” said Riley, “Pewee will knock at the door, and when they come with their lantern or candle, we’ll all rush in and howl like Indians.”
“How do Indians howl?” asked Ben Berry.
“Oh, any way—like a dog or a wolf, you know. And then they’ll be scared to death, and we’ll just pitch their beds, and dishes, and everything else out of the door, and show them how to clean house.”
Riley didn’t know that Allen Mackay and Jack Dudley, hidden in the bushes, heard this speech, nor that Jack, as soon as he had heard the plan, crept away to tell Bob at the house what the enemy proposed to do.
As the crowd neared the log-house, Riley prudently fell to the rear, and pushed Pewee to the front. There was just the faintest whitening of the sky from the coming moon, but the large apple-trees in front of the log-house made it very dark, and the dough-face crowd were obliged almost to feel their way as they came into the shadow of these trees. Just as Riley was exhorting Pewee to knock at the door, and the whole party was tittering at the prospect of turning Bob, Jack, and Columbus out of bed and out of doors, they all stopped short and held their breaths.
“Good gracious! Julius Caesar! sakes alive!” whispered Riley. “What—wh—what is that?”
Nobody ran. All stood as though frozen in their places. For out from behind the corner of the house came slowly a skeleton head. It was ablaze inside, and the lightshone out of all the openings. The thing had no feet, no hands, and no body. It actually floated through the air, and now and then joggled and danced a little. It rose and fell, but still came nearer and nearer to the attacking party of dough-faces, who for their part could not guess that Bob Holliday had put a lighted candle into an Indian’s skull, and then tied this ghost’s lantern to a wire attached to the end of a fishing-rod, which he operated from behind the house.
Pewee’s party drew close together, and Riley whispered hoarsely:
“The house is ha’nted.”
Just then the hideous and fiery death’s-head made a circuit, and swung, grinning, into Riley’s face, who could stand no more, but broke into a full run toward the river. At the same instant Jack tooted a dinner-horn, Judge Kane’s big dog ran barkingout of the log-house, and the enemy were routed like the Midianites before Gideon. Their consternation was greatly increased at finding their boats gone, for Allen Mackay had towed them into a little creek out of sight, and hidden the oars in an elder thicket. Riley and one of the others were so much afraid of the ghosts that “ha’nted” the old house, that they set out straightway for Greenbank, on foot. Pewee and the others searched everywhere for the boats, and at last sat down and waited for daylight. Just as day was breaking, Bob Holliday came down to the river with a towel, as though for a morning bath. Very accidentally, of course, he came upon Pewee and his party, all tired out, sitting on the bank in hope that day might throw some light on the fate of their boats.
“Hello, Pewee! You here? What’s the matter?” said Bob, with feigned surprise.
“Some thief took our skiffs. We’ve been looking for them all night, and can’t find them.”
“That’s curious,” said Bob, sitting down and leaning his head on his hand. “Where did you get supper last night?”
“Oh! we brought some with us.”
“Look here, Pewee, I’ll bet I can find your boats.”
“How?”
“You give me money enough among you to pay for the eggs and the chicken you had for supper, and I’ll find out who hid your boats and where the oars are, and it’ll all be square.”
Pewee was now sure that the boat had been taken as indemnity for the chicken and the eggs. He made every one of the party contribute something until he had collected what Bob thought sufficient to pay for the stolen things, and Bob took itand went up and found Judge Kane, who had just risen, and left the money with him. Then he made a circuit to Allen Mackay’s, waked him up, and got the oars, which they put into the boats; and pushing these out of their hiding-place, they rowed them into the river, delivering them to Pewee and company, who took them gratefully. Jack and Columbus had now made their appearance, and as Pewee got into his boat, he thought to repay Bob’s kindness with a little advice.
“I say, if I was you fellers, you know, I wouldn’t stay in that old cabin a single night.”
“Why?” asked Jack.
“Because,” said Pewee, “I’ve heerd tell that it is ha’nted.”
“Ghosts aren’t anything when you get used to them,” said Jack. “We don’t mind them at all.”
“Don’t you?” said Pewee, who was now rowing against the current.
“No,” said Bob, “nor dough-faces, neither.”
CHAPTER XIXTHE RETURN HOME
As Mr. Niles’s school-term drew to a close, the two boys began to think of their future.
“I expect to work with my hands, Jack,” said Bob; “I haven’t got a head for books, as you have. But I’d like to know aleetlemore before I settle down. I wish I could make enough at something to be able to go to school next winter.”
“If I only had your strength and size, Bob, I’d go to work for somebody as a farmer. But I have more than myself to look after. I must help mother after this term is out. I must get something to do, and then learning will be slow business. They talk about Ben Franklin studying atnight and all that, but it’s a little hard on a fellow who hasn’t the constitution of a Franklin. Still, I’m going to have an education, by hook or crook.”
At this point in the conversation, Judge Kane came in. As usual, he said little, but he got the boys to talk about their own affairs.
“When do you go home?” he asked.
“Next Friday evening, when school is out,” said Jack.
“And what are you going to do?” he asked of Bob.
“Get some work this summer, and then try to get another winter of schooling next year,” was the answer.
“What kind of work?”
“Oh, I can farm better than I can do anything else,” said Bob. “And I like it, too.”
And then Judge Kane drew from Jack afull account of his affairs, and particularly of the debt due from Gray, and of his interview with Gray.
“If you could get a few hundred dollars, so as to make your mother feel easy for a while, living as she does in her own house, you could go to school next winter.”
“Yes, and then I could get on after that, somehow, by myself, I suppose,” said Jack. “But the few hundred dollars is as much out of my reach as a million would be, and my father used to say that it was a bad thing to get into the way of figuring on things that we could never reach.”
The Judge sat still, and looked at Jack out of his half-closed gray eyes for a minute in silence.
“Come up to the house with me,” he said, rising.
Jack followed him to the house, where the Judge opened his desk and took out ared-backed memorandum-book, and dictated while Jack copied in his own handwriting the description of a piece of land on a slip of paper.
“If you go over to school, to-morrow, an hour earlier than usual,” he said, “call at the county clerk’s office, show him your memorandum, and find out in whose name that land stands. It is timber-land five miles back, and worth five hundred dollars. When you get the name of the owner, you will know what to do; if not, you can ask me, but you’d better not mention my name to anybody in this matter.”
Jack thanked Mr. Kane, but left him feeling puzzled. In fact, the farmer-judge seemed to like to puzzle people, or at least he never told anything more than was necessary.
The next morning, the boys were off early to Port William. Jack wondered ifthe land might belong to his father, but then he was sure his father never had any land in Kentucky. Or, was it the property of some dead uncle or cousin, and was he to find a fortune, like the hero of a cheap story? But when the county clerk, whose office it is to register deeds in that county, took the little piece of paper, and after scanning it, took down some great deed-books and mortgage-books, and turned the pages awhile, and then wrote “Francis Gray, owner, no incumbrance,” on the same slip with the description, Jack had the key to Mr. Kane’s puzzle.
It was now Thursday forenoon, and Jack was eager on all accounts to get home, especially to see the lawyer in charge of his father’s claim against Mr. Gray. So the next day at noon, as there was nothing left but the closing exercises, the three boys were excused, and bade good-bye totheir teacher and school-mates, and rowed back to their own side of the river. They soon had the skiff loaded, for all three were eager to see the folks at Greenbank. Jack’s mother had been at home more than a week, and he was the most impatient of the three. But they could not leave without a good-bye to Judge Kane and his wife, to which good-bye they added a profusion of bashful boyish thanks for kindness received. The Judge walked to the boat-landing with them. Jack began to tell him about the land.
“Don’t say anything about it to me, nor to anybody else but your lawyer,” said Mr. Kane; “and do not mention my name. You may say to your lawyer that the land has just changed hands, and the matter must be attended to soon. It won’t stand exposed in that way long.”
When the boys were in the boat ready to start, Mr. Kane said to Bob:
“You wouldn’t mind working for me this summer at the regular price?”
“I’d like to,” said Bob.
“How soon can you come?”
“Next Wednesday evening.”
“I’ll expect you,” said the Judge, and he turned away up the bank, with a slight nod and a curt “Good-bye,” while Bob said: “What a curious man he is!”
“Yes, and as good as he’s curious,” added Jack.
It was a warm day for rowing, but the boys were both a little homesick. Under the shelter of a point where the current was not too strong the two rowed and made fair headway, sometimes encountering an eddy which gave them a lift. But whenever the current set strongly toward their side of the river, and whenever they found it necessary to round a point, one of them would leap out on the pebbly beach and, throwing the boat-rope over his shoulder,set his strength against the stream. The rope, orcordelle,—a word that has come down from the first French travellers and traders in the great valley,—was tied to the row-locks. It was necessary for one to steer in the stern while the other played tow-horse, so that each had his turn at rest and at work. After three hours’ toil the wharf-boat of the village was in sight, and all sorts of familiar objects gladdened their hearts. They reached the landing, and then, laden with things, they hurriedly cut across the commons to their homes.
As soon as Jack’s first greeting with his mother was over, she told him that she thought she might afford him one more quarter of school.
“No,” said Jack, “you’ve pinched yourself long enough for me; now it’s time I should go to work. If you try to squeeze out another quarter of school for me you’llhave to suffer for it. Besides, I don’t see how you can do it, unless Gray comes down, and I think I have now in my pocket something that will make him come down.” And Jack’s face brightened at the thought of the slip of paper in the pocket of his roundabout.
Without observing the last remark, nor the evident elation of Jack’s feelings, Mrs. Dudley proceeded to tell him that she had been offered a hundred and twenty dollars for her claim against Gray.
“Who offered it?” asked Jack.
“Mr. Tinkham, Gray’s agent. Maybe Gray is buying up his own debts, feeling tired of holding property in somebody else’s name.”
“A hundred and twenty dollars for a thousand! The rascal! I wouldn’t take it,” broke out Jack, impetuously.
“That’s just the way I feel, Jack. I’drather wait forever, if it wasn’t for your education. I can’t afford to have you lose that. I’m to give an answer this evening.”
“We won’t do it,” said Jack. “I’ve got a memorandum here,” and he took the slip of paper from his pocket and unfolded it, “that’ll bring more money out of him than that. I’m going to see Mr. Beal at once.”
Mrs. Dudley looked at the paper without understanding just what it was, and, without giving her any further explanation, but only a warning to secrecy, Jack made off to the lawyer’s office.
“Where did you get this?” asked Mr. Beal.
“I promised not to mention his name—I mean the name of the one who gave me that. I went to the clerk’s office with the description, and the clerk wrote the words: ‘Francis Gray, owner, no incumbrance.’”
“I wish I had had it sooner,” said the lawyer. “It will be best to have our judgment recorded in that county to-morrow,” he continued. “Could you go down to Port William?”
“Yes, sir,” said Jack, a little reluctant to go back. “I could if I must.”
“I don’t think the mail will do,” added Mr. Beal. “This thing came just in time. We should have sold the claim to-night. This land ought to fetch five hundred dollars.”
Mr. Tinkham, agent for Francis Gray, was much disappointed that night when Mrs. Dudley refused to sell her claim against Gray.
“You’ll never get anything any other way,” he said.
“Perhaps not, but we’ve concluded to wait,” said Mrs. Dudley. “We can’t do much worse if we get nothing at all.”
After a moment’s reflection, Mr. Tinkham said:
“I’ll do a little better byyou, Mrs. Dudley. I’ll give you a hundred and fifty. That’s the very best Icando.”
“I will not sell the claim at present,” said Mrs. Dudley. “It is of no use to offer.”
It would have been better if Mrs. Dudley had not spoken so positively. Mr. Tinkham was set a-thinking. Why wouldn’t the widow sell? Why had she changed her mind since yesterday? Why did Mr. Beal, the lawyer, not appear at the consultation? All these questions the shrewd little Tinkham asked himself, and all these questions he asked of Francis Gray that evening.
CHAPTER XXA FOOT-RACE FOR MONEY
“They’ve got wind of something,” said Mr. Tinkham to Mr. Gray, “or else they are waiting for you to resume payment,—or else the widow’s got money from somewhere for her present necessities.”
“I don’t know what hope they can have of getting money out of me,” said Gray, with a laugh. “I’ve tangled everything up, so that Beal can’t find a thing to levy on. I have but one piece of property exposed, and that’s not in this State.”
“Where is it?” asked Tinkham.
“It’s in Kentucky, five miles back of Port William. I took it last week in a trade, and I haven’t yet made up my mind what to do with it.”
“That’s the very thing,” said Tinkham, with his little face drawn to a point,—“the very thing. Mrs. Dudley’s son came home from Port William yesterday, where he has been at school. They’ve heard of that land, I’m afraid; for Mrs. Dudley is very positive that she will not sell the claim at any price.”
“I’ll make a mortgage to my brother on that land, and send it off from the mail-boat as I go down to-morrow,” said Gray.
“That’ll be too late,” said Tinkham. “Beal will have his judgment recorded as soon as the packet gets there. You’d better go by the packet, get off, and see the mortgage recorded yourself, and then take the mail-boat.”
To this Gray agreed, and the next day, when Jack went on board the packet “Swiftsure,” he found Mr. Francis Gray going aboard also. Mr. Beal had warnedJack that he must not let anybody from the packet get to the clerk’s office ahead of him,—that the first paper deposited for record would take the land. Jack wondered why Mr. Francis Gray was aboard the packet, which went no farther than Madison, while Mr. Gray’s home was in Louisville. He soon guessed, however, that Gray meant to land at Port William, and so to head him off. Jack looked at Mr. Gray’s form, made plump by good feeding, and felt safe. He couldn’t be very dangerous in a foot-race. Jack reflected with much hopefulness that no boy in school could catch him in a straight-away run when he was fox. He would certainly leave the somewhat puffy Mr. Francis Gray behind.
But in the hour’s run down the river, including two landings at Minuit’s and Craig’s, Jack had time to remember thatFrancis Gray was a cunning man and might head him off by some trick or other. A vague fear took possession of him, and he resolved to be first off the boat before any pretext could be invented to stop him.
Meantime, Francis Gray had looked at Jack’s lithe legs with apprehension. “I can never beat that boy,” he had reflected. “My running days are over.” Finding among the deck passengers a young fellow who looked as though he needed money, Gray approached him with this question:
“Do you belong in Port William, young man?”
“I don’t belong nowhere else, I reckon,” answered the seedy fellow, with shuffling impudence.
“Do you know where the county clerk’s office is?” asked Mr. Gray.
“Yes, and the market-house. I can show you the way to the jail, too, if youwant to know; but I s’pose you’ve been there many a time,” laughed the “wharf rat.”
Gray was irritated at this rudeness, but he swallowed his anger.
“Would you like to make five dollars?”
“Now you’re talkin’ interestin’. Why didn’t you begin at that eend of the subjick? I’d like to make five dollars as well as the next feller, provided it isn’t to be made by too much awful hard work.”
“Can you run well?”
“If they’s money at t’other eend of the race I can run like sixtyfer a spell. ’Tain’t my common gait, howsumever.”
“If you’ll take this paper,” said Gray, “and get it to the county clerk’s office before anybody else gets there from this boat, I’ll give you five dollars.”
“Honor bright?” asked the chap, taking the paper, drawing a long breath, and lookingas though he had discovered a gold mine.
“Honor bright,” answered Gray. “You must jump off first of all, for there’s a boy aboard that will beat you if he can. No pay if you don’t win.”
“Which is the one that’ll run ag’in’ me?” asked the long-legged fellow.
Gray described Jack, and told the young man to go out forward and he would see him. Gray was not willing to be seen with the “wharf-rat,” lest suspicions should be awakened in Jack Dudley’s mind. But after the shabby young man had gone forward and looked at Jack, he came back with a doubtful air.
“That’s Hoosier Jack, as we used to call him,” said the shabby young man. “He an’ two more used to row a boat acrost the river every day to go to ole Niles’s school. He’s a hard one to beat,—they say he usedto lay the whole school out on prisoners’ base, and that he could leave ’em all behind on fox.”
“You think you can’t do it, then?” asked Gray.
“Gimme a little start and I reckon I’ll fetch it. It’s up-hill part of the way and he may lose his wind, for it’s a good half-mile. You must make a row with him at the gang-plank, er do somethin’ to kinder hold him back. The wind’s down stream to-day and the boat’s shore to swing in a little aft. I’ll jump for it and you keep him back.”
To this Gray assented.
As the shabby young fellow had predicted, the boat did swing around in the wind, and have some trouble in bringing her bow to the wharf-boat. The captain stood on the hurricane-deck calling to the pilot to “back her,” “stop her,” “go aheadon her,” “go ahead on yer labberd,” and “back on yer stabberd.” Now, just as the captain was backing the starboard wheel and going ahead on his larboard, so as to bring the boat around right, Mr. Gray turned on Jack.
“What are you treading on my toes for, you impudent young rascal?” he broke out.
Jack colored and was about to reply sharply, when he caught sight of the shabby young fellow, who just then leaped from the gunwale of the boat amidships and barely reached the wharf. Jack guessed why Gray had tried to irritate him,—he saw that the well-known “wharf-rat” was to be his competitor. But what could he do? The wind held the bow of the boat out, the gang-plank which had been pushed out ready to reach the wharf-boat was still firmly grasped by the deck-hands, and the farther end of it was six feet from thewharf, and much above it. It would be some minutes before any one could leave the boat in the regular way. There was only one chance to defeat the rascally Gray. Jack concluded to take it.
He ran out upon the plank amidst the harsh cries of the deck-hands, who tried to stop him, and the oaths of the mate, who thundered at him, with the stern order of the captain from the upper deck, who called out to him to go back.
But, luckily, the steady pulling ahead of the larboard engine, and the backing of the starboard, began just then to bring the boat around, the plank sank down a little under Jack’s weight, and Jack made the leap to the wharf, hearing the confused cries, orders, oaths, and shouts from behind him, as he pushed through the crowd.
“Stop that thief!” cried Francis Gray to the people on the wharf-boat, but invain. Jack glided swiftly through the people, and got on shore before anybody could check him. He charged up the hill after the shabby young fellow, who had a decided lead, while some of the men on the wharf-boat pursued them both, uncertain which was the thief. Such another pell-mell race Port William had never seen. Windows flew up and heads went out. Small boys joined the pursuing crowd, and dogs barked indiscriminately and uncertainly at the heels of everybody. There were cries of “Hurrah for long Ben!” and “Hurrah for Hoosier Jack!” Some of Jack’s old school-mates essayed to stop him to find out what it was all about, but he would not relax a muscle, and he had no time to answer any questions. He saw the faces of the people dimly; he heard the crowd crying after him, “Stop, thief!” he caught a glimpse of his old teacher, Mr.Niles, regarding him with curiosity as he darted by; he saw an anxious look in Judge Kane’s face as he passed him on a street corner. But Jack held his eyes on Long Ben, whom he pursued as a dog does a fox. He had steadily gained on the fellow, but Ben had too much the start, and, unless he should give out, there would be little chance for Jack to overtake him. One thinks quickly in such moments. Jack remembered that there were two ways of reaching the county clerk’s office. To keep the street around the block was the natural way,—to take an alley through the square was neither longer nor shorter. But by running down the alley he would deprive Long Ben of the spur of seeing his pursuer, and he might even make him think that Jack had given out. Jack had played this trick when playing hound and fox, and at any rate he would by this turn shake offthe crowd. So into the alley he darted, and the bewildered pursuers kept on crying “Stop, thief!” after Long Ben, whose reputation was none of the best. Somebody ahead tried to catch the shabby young fellow, and this forced Ben to make a slight curve, which gave Jack the advantage, so that just as Ben neared the office, Jack rounded a corner out of an alley, and entered ahead of him, dashed up to the clerk’s desk and deposited the judgment.
“For record,” he gasped.
The next instant the shabby young fellow pushed forward the mortgage.
“Mine first!” cried Long Ben.
“I’ll take yours when I get this entered,” said the clerk quietly, as became a public officer.
“I got here first,” said Long Ben.
But the clerk looked at the clock and entered the date on the back of Jack’spaper, putting “one o’clock and eighteen minutes” after the date. Then he wrote “one o’clock and nineteen minutes” on the paper which Long Ben handed him. The office was soon crowded with people discussing the result of the race, and a part of them were even now in favor of seizing one or the other of the runners for a theft, which some said had been committed on the packet, and others declared was committed on the wharf-boat. Francis Gray came in, and could not conceal his chagrin.
“I meant to do the fair thing by you,” he said to Jack, severely, “but now you’ll never get a cent out of me.”
“I’d rather have the law on men like you, than have a thousand of your sort of fair promises,” said Jack.
“I’ve a mind to strike you,” said Gray.
“The Kentucky law is hard on a manwho strikes a minor,” said Judge Kane, who had entered at that moment.
Mr. Niles came in to learn what was the matter, and Judge Kane, after listening quietly to the talk of the people, until the excitement subsided, took Jack over to his house, whence the boy trudged home in the late afternoon full of hopefulness.
Gray’s land realized as much as Mr. Beal expected, and Jack studied hard all summer, so as to get as far ahead as possible by the time school should begin in the autumn.