"Coming on at breakneck speed." See page 72."Coming on at breakneck speed." Seepage 72.
"Help! help!" came in a female voice from the carriage, and the young bridge tender saw that both Mrs. Carrington and her daughter were preparing to leap out.
"Don't jump!" he screamed, and then made a dash for the horses' heads.
The fact that they had struck the bridge caused the team to slacken their pace a bit. Taking advantage of this, Ralph caught them by both bridles. They lifted him off his feet, but he clung fast, and by the time the Eastport side was reached the team was conquered.
"Hold them, hold them, please!" cried Mrs. Carrington, who, by the way, was one of the richest residents of Westville. "I will get out."
"They are all right now," returned Ralph. "But I will hold them, if you wish."
And he did so while the lady and her daughter alighted.
"Oh, how thankful I am to you," said the lady.
"And I, too," added her daughter, with a grateful glance that caused Ralph to blush. "Oh, mamma," she went on, "I wonder what became of Mr. Paget?"
"It's hard to tell," returned Mrs. Carrington, coldly.
"Mr. Paget!" cried Ralph. "Do you mean Percy Paget?"
"Yes," replied Julia Carrington.
"Was he with you?"
"He was," answered Mrs. Carrington. "But at the first signs of danger he sprang out of the carriage and left us to our fate!"
Ralph was much surprised to learn that Percy Paget had been in the carriage.
"Was he hurt when he sprang out?" he asked of Mrs. Carrington.
"I am sure I do not know," returned the lady.
"I don't think so," put in her daughter, a beautiful miss of sixteen. "He landed in the middle of a blackberry bush when he sprang from the front seat."
"Then he was driving?"
"Yes, and it was his fault that the team ran away," returned Mrs. Carrington. "I told him that they were very spirited, but in order to make them do their best, as he thought, he used the whip upon them."
"Such a team as that don't need the whip much," put in old Bob Sanderson, who had come up during the conversation, followed by Dan Pickley. "They're too high-minded."
"That is just it," said the lady.
"It was gritty of Ralph to shut the bridge and stop 'em for you," went on the old man.
"Indeed it was!" cried Julia Carrington. "I shall never forget your bravery," she went on to Ralph. "You have done what many a man would be afraid to undertake."
"So he has," put in her mother. "You are Ralph Nelson, the bridge tender, I believe."
"Yes, ma'am."
"I used to know your father fairly well. You have taken his place since he died."
"Yes, ma'am—up to the end of this week. Then Mr. Pickley takes it," and Ralph pointed to the fellow he had mentioned.
"And what are you going to do?"
"I don't know yet. I am going to look for work somewhere."
"I trust you find something suitable."
"I'll take anything that pays fair wages."
"And how is it you are going to leave here?" went on the lady, curiously.
"I got into a row with Percy Paget, and his father is chairman of the village board, and he sided with his son."
"I see." Mrs. Carrington bit her lip. "Well, we must be going, Julia," she said to her daughter. "I shall not forget you for your bravery, Ralph Nelson."
"Thank you, ma'am; I only did what was my duty."
"It is more than that. I shall not forget you, remember."
The lady re-entered her carriage, and Ralph assisted the daughter to a seat beside her.
In a moment more they continued on their way, leaving Ralph, Sanderson and Pickley to gaze after them.
"My, but they're swell!" was Pickley's comment. "I wish I was in your shoes, Ralph."
"She won't forget you, that's certain," said Sanderson. "She'll reward you handsomelike, see if she don't, Ralph."
"They don't seem to care much about Percy Paget's condition," returned the boy, by way of changing the subject.
"Well, who would—under the circumstances!" exclaimed the old man, in deep disgust.
"Perhaps they don't give him the credit he deserves," said Pickley, thinking he must say something in favor of the squire's son.
Ralph and Sanderson had their own opinion of Percy, and they did not care to argue with Pickley on the subject. The young bridge tender went back to his work, and Sanderson shuffled off to go at an odd job of boat-mending. Pickley sat down to count the tolls as before.
Three minutes later Percy Paget came into sight. His hands and face were scratched and his clothing torn.
"See anything of a runaway?" he cried, as he came up to Pickley.
"Yes; the team was stopped right here," replied the man.
"Who stopped 'em?"
"Ralph Nelson."
"You don't mean it?" gasped the young aristocrat.
"Yes, I do."
"Was he hurt?"
"Not a bit."
"I don't see how he could do it," grumbled Percy. "That team was going like mad."
"So it was. Ralph not only stopped the team, but before that he worked like lightning to close the draw so that they wouldn't go overboard."
"Humph!" mused Percy. "He must have done it in hopes of a reward. Most likely he knew who was in the carriage."
"He did."
"What did Mrs. Carrington give him?"
"Nothing. But she said she would not forget him."
"She'll send him five dollars, or something like that, I guess. Did she—she say anything about me?" went on Percy, hesitatingly.
"She said you leaped from the carriage as soon as the team started."
"That isn't so," replied the aristocratic bully, glibly. "I didn't jump at all."
"You didn't."
"No, I was pitched out. I stood up to get a better hold on the reins, and just then the carriage lurched, and out I went."
"Oh, well, then, that's different," replied Dan Pickley, who did not think it to his advantage to question the veracity of Percy's explanation. "Mrs. Carrington seemed to think you had jumped out because you were scared."
"And did her daughter seem to think so, too?" asked Percy, his anxiety increasing.
"I don't know but what she did. You had better hunt them up and explain matters."
"I will. I suppose the reason they didn't come back for me is because they were in a hurry to get to Eastportand see Mr. Carrington before he went off to Chambersburgh."
"They didn't say what they were in a hurry about," returned Dan Pickley.
Percy saw that Ralph was now approaching, and not wishing, for various reasons, to encounter the young bridge tender while in such a woe-begone condition, he turned on his heel and walked back toward Westville.
Ralph could not help but laugh at the discomfiture of the young bully. He had overheard a good part of the conversation, and he was satisfied that Percy was, for once at least, more than "taken down."
On the other hand, Percy was greatly chagrined to learn that Ralph had played the part of the hero. His face drew dark, and his eyes flashed their bitter hatred.
"It's too bad, that low upstart to stop the team!" he muttered to himself. "I wonder if Julia Carrington spoke to him? Most likely she did, and now he'll look at her as a special friend! It's a great shame! I'll have to teach him his place if he tries to get too intimate with her!"
All of which went to prove that Percy's hopes in the direction of Julia were more than of the ordinary kind.
Percy would have been more bitter than ever could he have witnessed the scene in the Nelson cottage that evening, shortly after eight o'clock.
Five minutes before that time Ralph was sitting in the kitchen, telling his mother of the stirring event of the day, to which the fond parent listened with keen interest.
The son had just finished when there came a timid knock at the front door.
"Somebody's knocking, Ralph," said Mrs. Nelson. "Go and light the sitting-room lamp and see who it is."
Ralph lit the lamp, and then opened the door. Before him stood Mrs. Carrington and her daughter.
"Good-evening, Ralph; you did not expect to see me quite so soon, I imagine," said Mrs. Carrington, with a smile, as she stepped in.
"Well, no," stammered the youth. "Won't you have a chair?" and he pushed a seat forward for the lady and another for her daughter.
"Thank you, yes," returned Mrs. Carrington. "Is this Mrs. Nelson?" she went on, as Ralph's mother appeared.
"Yes, madam," said the widow. "Pray, make yourself comfortable. Perhaps you would prefer a rocker?"
"No, we won't stay but a minute. Has Ralph told you of his bravery this noon?"
"He said he stopped your runaway team."
"He did nobly, and my daughter and I have come to offer him a slight reward for his gallant deed."
"I was not looking for a reward," put in Ralph.
"But you deserve one, Ralph, and I trust you will accept what we have brought. Julia!"
"Yes, mamma. Here it is," and from beneath her dress folds Julia Carrington produced a small morocco-covered box. "Allow me to present this, Ralph Nelson, with the compliments of my mother and myself," she said, turning to the young bridge tender.
She held out the box.
"Thank you, but I—I really didn't expect anything," stammered Ralph, as he took the offering.
"Open it, and let us see the kind gift Mrs. Carrington and her daughter have made," said his mother.
There was a catch on one side of the small box. Ralph pressed upon this, and up flew the lid, revealing to his astonished and pleased gaze a small but neatly engraved gold watch, with chain and charm attached.
"A gold watch!" cried Ralph.
"And chain and all!" added Mrs. Nelson.
"Really, I—I can't accept this!" and Ralph blushed furiously. "I—I——"
"Oh, yes, you can," laughed Julia Carrington. "It is not as much as we think you ought to have, but——"
"It is more, Miss Carrington."
"Do you like it, Ralph?" questioned the older lady.
"Very much indeed. I have always wanted a good watch. I have been using father's old one, but that is about worn out, and can't be made to run with much regularity."
The Carringtons remained at the Nelson cottage much longer than they originally intended. It was ten o'clock when Ralph lit the way to where their carriage was standing, in charge of a colored coachman. During the visit the rich folks asked Mrs. Nelson and Ralph much about themselves. Julia Carrington proved herself a very nice young lady, and when she went away Ralph and his new acquaintances were warm friends.
"They are not stuck up a bit, mother," said the young bridge tender, as he returned to the cottage after seeing them off.
"No, they are very kind-hearted as well as rich," returned Mrs. Nelson. "Would Westville had more of such."
"What a difference between such folks and the Pagets and the Steiners. Why, Mrs. Steiner and her daughter Maud wouldn't look at us if they stumbled over us on the street, and neither would Mrs. Paget when she was alive."
"Well, we must remember that we do not belong to fashionable society, Ralph. We belong to the poorer classes."
"So we do, but that doesn't make it right for some folks to look at us as if we were the dust under their feet. Ishall not forget the Carringtons' kind ways, nor the beautiful present they made me," and Ralph fell to examining the gold watch and chain anew.
It was truly a valuable gift, and the boy was more than delighted. He resolved to wear it only when he needed a time-piece or when he was "dressed up." It was too good to have about his old clothes constantly.
Ralph's remaining time as bridge tender went swiftly by, and on the day set by the committee he was paid off by Squire Paget, and Dan Pickley was duly installed in his place.
"What are you going to do now?" asked the squire, as he handed over Ralph's salary.
"I don't know yet," returned the boy.
"Guess you'll find it rather hard to find work around Westville."
"I don't know. I haven't had any chance of looking around."
"Well, I'm sorry for you," went on Squire Paget, hypocritically. "I don't like to see any one out of work."
"Really! It was yourself got me out of the job!" retorted Ralph.
"No, it wasn't, Nelson; it was your own hasty temper. If you hadn't attacked Percy—but let that pass——"
"Percy was in the wrong—I shall always say so——" interrupted Ralph.
"There you go!" snarled the squire. "I was going to offer you a situation on one of my canal boats, but I shan't do it now. You don't deserve it."
"I do not want any situation from you," replied theboy, with a sudden show of spirit. "I would rather find my own employment."
"Going to be pig-headed, eh?"
"You can call it what you please. You did not treat me fairly, and I guess I can get along without your aid."
And without another word Ralph pocketed his pay, and walked off.
"A regular young tartar!" mused the squire, as he gazed after him. "He won't be easy to manage; that's certain. Too bad I couldn't get him on the canal boat. I must find some way of getting him out of Westville—and his mother, too. I can't do much while they are around."
Ralph had been paid off at the squire's office in the village, and now he made his way to Uriah Dicks' store, to settle up the family account.
"How much do we owe you, Mr. Dicks?" he asked, as he walked up to Uriah, who was poring over a very dirty ledger.
"Oh, so it's you, Ralph!" exclaimed the storekeeper. "Been up to the squire's yet?"
"Yes."
"Did you get your pay?"
"Yes."
"And now you want to settle up?"
"Yes," replied Ralph, for a third time.
"I hope you ain't a-goin' to quit tradin' with me!" cried Uriah, in some alarm.
"We are, Mr. Dicks. What can you expect, after the way you have treated me?"
"I—I couldn't help votin' in the committee with the squire and Ben Hooker," returned the storekeeper, lamely. "They said it was a clear case against you."
"And therefore you wouldn't give me a chance to clear myself," said Ralph, bitterly. "How much is the bill?"
"Three dollars and nineteen cents. I'll call it three dollars if you'll keep on buying here," went on Uriah, desperately.
It made his heart fairly ache to see trade going to one of the rival stores.
"I prefer to settle in full," rejoined the boy, coolly. "Take the three dollars and nineteen cents out of this five-dollar bill."
With an inward groan, Uriah took out the amount, handed back the change, and crossed the account from the book.
"Got anything to do?" he asked, a sudden idea flashing through his head.
"Not yet."
"I might take you on here—I need a boy."
"And what would you pay?" questioned Ralph, although he knew about what to expect from the miserly man he was addressing.
"Well, I'd be willin' to pay a big boy like you two dollars and a half a week. I wouldn't pay a small boy so much."
"Thank you, but I wouldn't work for that, even if I cared to work for you, Mr. Dicks. Two dollars and a half wouldn't run our house."
"I would let you have your groceries at cost," said Uriah, as an extra inducement.
The truth was, many of his customers had upbraided him for aiding in the discharge of Ralph as bridge tender, and he wished to set himself right with these folks.
"I do not care to work for you, sir. I think I can get work I will like better and which will pay more elsewhere."
The storekeeper's face fell, and he closed the dirty ledger with a slam.
"All right, Ralph, suit yourself. But if you starve to death, don't lay it at my door, mind that!"
"No fear of my starving," returned the boy, lightly, and he left the store.
Uriah watched him from behind the dirty windows of his place. He heaved a big sigh as he saw Ralph enter the opposition store just across the way, and groaned aloud when the youth came out with half-a-dozen packages under his arm, and started for home.
"I guess I put my foot into it when I sided with the squire," he meditated. "But it had to be done. Anyway, the squire's trade is bigger than the Nelsons', so I'm better off than I might be," and, thus consoling himself, he went back to his accounts.
To Uriah Dicks all such matters were questions of dollars and cents, not of justice.
When Ralph arrived home, he told his mother of the storekeeper's offer.
"Do you think I did wrong in refusing?" he asked.
"No, Ralph; I would have done the same."
"I fancy I can strike a job that will pay better—anyway, I am going to try."
Sunday of the week passed quietly enough, and on Monday morning Ralph brushed up his every-day clothes, took along the lunch his mother put up for him, and left the cottage to try his luck among the stores and factories in Eastport.
"Don't be alarmed if I am not home until night, mother," he said. "I may strike a situation in which they wish me at once."
"All right, Ralph," she returned. "Good luck to you."
But Ralph did not get to Eastport that day. As he was crossing the bridge a young man on a small sailboat hailed him. It was Roy Parkhurst, a fellow Ralph knew well.
"Hallo, Ralph!" he called out. "The job on the bridge and you have parted company, I am told."
"Yes, Roy."
"Doing anything to-day?"
"No, I was just bound for Eastport to look for work."
"Then you are just the fellow I am looking for," said Parkhurst.
"What for?"
"I want to sail down to Martinton and have this boat taken back here. If you'll undertake the job I'll give you a dollar."
"I'll go you," returned Ralph promptly. "I can put off looking for another situation until to-morrow."
"Then jump in."
Parkhurst ran his boat close to the bridge, and Ralphsprang down on one of the seats. Soon the two were moving down Silver Lake at all the speed the little craft commanded.
It was a splendid day, with a stiff breeze blowing, and by noon Martinton was reached. Then, giving Ralph directions as to where the boat was to be left in Westville, Roy Parkhurst quit the boat, and, having eaten the lunch, the boy started on the return, never dreaming of the excitement in store for him.
Like his father before him, Ralph had always liked the water. He was perfectly familiar with the handling of all manner of small craft, and, had it paid, would have liked nothing better than to follow a life on the lakes.
But situations on the water which brought in a fair remuneration were scarce in the vicinity of Westville, and so the boy did not attempt a search for employment in that direction.
The half-day's job before him suited him exactly, and, after leaving Martinton, he settled back with his hand on the tiller and his eyes on the sails in great satisfaction.
"I wouldn't mind owning a boat like this," he thought, as the swift little craft cut along through the water. "Perhaps I might do very well taking out pleasure parties during the summer."
Inside of half an hour Martinton was left far behind. Then Ralph noted that the fair sky was gradually becoming overcast.
"I wonder if we are going to have a blow," he soliloquized. "It more than half looks like it."
About quarter of an hour later the breeze died out utterly. This was a bad sign, and the boy prudently lowered the jib and took a couple of reefs in the mainsail.
Presently came a low rumble of thunder from the southeast, and the sky grew darker and darker. There was no longer any doubt that a severe thunderstorm, preceded possibly by a squall, was close at hand.
Unwilling to take any risks in a boat not his own, Ralph lowered the mainsail entirely. Hardly had he done so when a fierce wind swept up the lake—a wind that presently raised itself almost to a hurricane.
The lightning began to flash all around him, followed by crash after crash of thunder. The water was churned up in great violence, and he was compelled to crouch low in the craft lest he be swept overboard and drowned.
Driven by the wind, the boat moved across the lake, until Ralph grew fearful that she would be driven up on the rocks and made a complete wreck. At the risk of losing some canvas, he let out the mainsail a bit and steered from the shore.
The rain came down by the bucketful, and it did not take much to soak him to the skin. There was no way of protecting himself; he must take it as it came. Fortunately it was warm, so he did not suffer so much as he might otherwise have done.
A half-hour passed, and Ralph was just congratulating himself that the worst was over, when a cry came out of the gloom to his left.
He strained his eyes in the direction, and after a few moments caught sight of an immense hay barge bearing down upon him. The hay barge had been towed by a steam tug, but the rope had parted, and the barge was now drifting at the mercy of the wind and current.
There was a man on the hay barge, thoroughly frightened, and it was he who was crying for assistance.
"Hullo, there! What's the matter?" cried Ralph, as he steered clear of the moving mass, for the hay barge was loaded to the water's edge.
"Help me!" cried the man. "I am all alone on this barge."
"Where is the tug?"
"I don't know. I fancy she struck on a rock, for we lost our reckoning, and ran too close to shore."
"I don't see how I can help you," returned Ralph. "My boat won't budge that big barge."
"Then take me on board, will you?" returned the man, with a shiver. "I ain't used to being out in the wind and rain."
"Yes, I'll take you in. Wait till I run up behind."
As best he could, Ralph swung his own craft around, and came up under the stern of the hay barge. The man ran from the side, and lowered himself onto the bow seat.
"There! I'm all right now," he said, as he stumbled back to Ralph's side. "What a beastly storm!" he went on.
"It is. What are you going to do about the barge?"
"I don't care what becomes of her," growled the man. "I was only a passenger on the tug, and went on the barge for fun. Let the captain pick her up as best he can."
"But you want to find the tug, don't you?" asked Ralph, in some surprise.
"Not if you will put me ashore. Where are you bound?"
"Westville."
"That will suit me first rate. Take me there, and I'll pay you the passage money instead of the tug captain."
"I'll take you there without pay," said Ralph.
At that moment a steam whistle sounded close at hand, and presently they beheld the steam tug, with the captain on the forward deck, gazing anxiously ahead.
"There she is!" cried the man Ralph had picked up.
"We'll call to the captain, and let him know where his hay barge is," replied Ralph.
He accordingly hailed those on the steam tug. Soon the craft was close beside him.
"Your barge is off in that direction," said Ralph, pointing with his hand.
"And I am here, captain, and going to stay here," put in Ralph's passenger. "No more hay barges for me."
"Don't you want to come on the tug?"
"No."
"All right then, suit yourself."
And the next moment the steam tug shot out of sight, in the direction in which the hay barge was drifting.
The storm now let up a bit, and Ralph was able to take a good look at the fellow beside him. He was a tall, strong-looking chap, with sharp black eyes, and a heavy head of dark hair. He wore a long mustache, and there was a slight scar directly in the center of his forehead.
"What's your name, youngster?" he asked, presently, as Ralph let out the mainsail.
Ralph told him.
"Mine is Dock Brady. I am a surveyor from Utica. Do you follow this sort of thing for a living?"
"No, sir."
"Just out for pleasure, eh?"
"Hardly that; I am returning the boat to Westville for a friend."
"Oh, I see." Dock Brady mused for a moment. "Westville is quite a place, I believe," he went on.
"Not so very large, sir."
"Larger than Silver Cove, though?"
"Oh, yes—twice as large."
"Quite a few summer boarders, eh?"
"Back of the village, yes. There are no folks stopping in the village itself."
"No, but that helps to liven up things, of course—buying stuff and mailing letters."
He paused again.
"Yes, they have to come there for goods, and that makes the stores do very well. And the post office is a lively enough place at mail times."
"Always is, when there are summer boarders around." The man laughed lightly. "Can I help you with the boat?" he went on, changing the subject.
"You can hold the tiller while I hoist the jib," said Ralph. "The storm is over, I guess."
The jib was unfurled and the mainsail let out full, and once again the little craft went bounding on her way.
Ralph did not take to his passenger's appearance, and said very little during the remainder of the trip. Theman also relapsed into silence, as if resolving some scheme in his mind.
Before sundown Westville was reached. At the bridge the man got off, and tossed Ralph a silver dollar. In a moment more he was out of sight.
Little did Ralph imagine under what exciting circumstances he and Dock Brady were to meet again.
Mrs. Nelson was surprised to see Ralph come in almost soaked to the skin from the rain.
"Why, Ralph, why didn't you go under shelter!" she cried.
"Because I couldn't get under," he laughed, and then he explained that he had been on the lake instead of over to Eastport.
"And I've earned two dollars by the operation," he added.
"I am thankful you escaped injury by the storm," she shuddered. "It must have been fearful out on the water."
"It was pretty rough, I admit," he said. "But it is over now, and no harm done."
"You had better change your clothes before you sit down to eat."
"I will," said Ralph, and went upstairs for that purpose.
When he came down again he found the evening meal on the table, and, being hungry, he ate his full share.
Mother and son spent a quiet evening at home, and retired early. In the morning Ralph was up before sunrise, putting things in order around the house.
By eight o'clock he was on his way to Eastport. As he was crossing the bridge, Dan Pickley stopped him.
"Ain't you got an extra key to the bridge lock?" he asked. "I want one for myself and one for Andy Wilson, who is going to help me."
"There is but one key," returned Ralph. "I always left that in a safe place in the office, and whoever was here used it."
"Then you ain't got a duplicate?"
"No, I tell you."
"Oh, all right," responded Dan Pickley, and he pursed his lips. He was about to say more, but suddenly changed his mind.
Somewhat perplexed by Pickley's strange manner, the boy continued on his way, and a few minutes later found himself in the thriving town for which he had been bound.
Ralph had no definite place in view. But he knew that the best thing to do was to seek employment systematically. He resolved to walk to the extreme end of the town and apply at every store and factory that presented itself.
"Then, if there is any vacancy at all, I am bound to locate it," he said to himself.
His first visit was paid to a large shoe factory, located directly by the lakeside.
"I am looking for a place," he began to the foreman, when that individual waved him away and pointed to a sign over the door, which the boy had not seen, and which read:
"No More Hands Wanted."
"Excuse me, but I did not see the sign," said Ralph, politely, and walked off.
After this came another shoe factory, at which the boy fared no better; indeed, he fared worse, for the foreman, a burly Irishman, ordered him out very rudely.
"They don't believe in being very civil," thought Ralph. "However, one must expect some hard knocks in this world."
At a planing-mill the boy fell in with a young man whom he knew quite well. The young man's name was Harry Ford, and he treated Ralph kindly.
"Very sorry, Ralph, but there is no opening," he said. "Only last week we discharged two young fellows because we could not keep them going. Orders are rather slack."
"Then there is nothing at all open?"
Harry Ford shook his head.
"I'll ask the boss if he'll take you on, but I am certain it will do no good."
The owner of the mill came in just then, and he was appealed to. He at once said he could not possibly take on a new hand.
"If an opening occurs I'll keep you in mind," said Harry Ford, and with this promise Ralph had to be content.
After leaving the planing-mill, the boy came to several stores. At the first and second no help of any kind was needed. At the third they wanted a boy to distribute circulars.
"The job will last for a week," said the storekeeper, "for I want the circulars distributed in every place in Eastport, Westville, and all the summer boarding-houses and hotels in the neighborhood."
"And how much are you willing to pay?" asked Ralph.
"I'll give you four dollars for the week if you do the work properly. I won't have any circulars wasted."
Ralph hesitated. Four dollars was not much, but it was better than nothing.
"I am looking for a steady place," he said. "But if I can't find it, I'll take the job," he said.
"I want the circulars to go out as soon as possible. They advertise my summer sporting goods, and the season is now pretty well advanced."
"Will you keep the place open for me until this evening?"
"What is your name?"
"Ralph Nelson. I used to be the bridge tender."
"Oh, yes, I thought I had seen you before. All right, Nelson; I'll wait until six o'clock to hear from you."
"Thank you, Mr. Dunham. I'll let you know one way or the other by that time," said Ralph.
When the boy left the store he found it was already noon. He had a lunch with him, and, strolling down to the water's edge, he sat on a little dock and ate it.
He had just about finished when a rowboat came into view. There was a single occupant at the oars. It was Percy Paget.
"Hallo, there! what are you doing here?" cried the young bully, as he ran up to the dock and leaped ashore.
"Taking it easy," returned Ralph, coolly.
"Indeed!" said Percy, sarcastically. "Plenty of time for that now, I suppose."
"Yes, I have more time on my hands than I care to have, Percy."
"Don't call me Percy! I am not an intimate of yours, Ralph Nelson!"
"All right; just as you please."
"If you had treated me like a gentleman on the bridge you wouldn't be out of a job now," went on the fashionable bully.
"We won't talk about that," returned Ralph, sharply.
And then, to see how late it was, he drew out his new watch and consulted it.
"Where did you get that watch?" questioned Percy, on catching sight of the golden time-piece.
"It was made a present to me," replied Ralph, and he smiled at the young aristocrat's evident wonder.
"A present to you?"
"Yes."
"When?"
"A couple of days ago."
"For your faithful work on the bridge, I suppose," sneered the rich youth.
"Partly for that, and partly for something else."
"Who gave it to you?"
"A rich lady and her daughter."
"You are talking in riddles, Ralph Nelson," cried Percy, more than half angry at Ralph's short replies.
"Well, then, since you are so curious, let me tell you that the watch, chain, and charm were presented to me by Miss Julia Carrington and her mother. Now are you satisfied?"
The shot told. Percy colored to the roots of his reddish hair, and drew down the corners of his mouth.
"Do you mean to tell me that Julia Carrington really gave you that as a present?" he ejaculated.
"Yes."
"Because you stopped their team for them?"
"Yes. They were very thankful to me for what they called my bravery."
"Humph! Anybody could have done as much. That team wasn't much to stop."
"It's a pity you didn't stop them then. You were in the carriage, I understand."
"I was thrown out, or there wouldn't have been any trouble," growled Percy.
"They said you sprang out as soon as you imagined there was danger."
"It isn't so. I'll bet you asked them for the watch—or for some reward," went on the young aristocrat, maliciously.
"Not by a good deal; it is not my style, Percy Paget."
"Humph! A low upstart like you——"
"Stop right there!" cried Ralph.
"I won't! You are——"
"If you don't stop I'll pitch you into the lake!"
"You can't do it, Ralph Nelson. You are nothing but a miserable beggar, not fit for decent folks to associate with. If I had my say——"
Percy got no further. With doubled-up fists Ralph advanced upon him. The rich young bully saw his danger, and, in sudden alarm for his personal safety, began to retreat.
He did not notice where he was going, and his heel struck upon a board which stuck up above the rest of the flooring of the dock. He tripped backward, and went with a splash into the lake.
Ralph was not much alarmed when Percy Paget went over and disappeared beneath the waters of the lake. He knew the young aristocrat could swim. Moreover, the end of the rowboat was within easy reach.
Percy let out one yell, and then went under. The yell was not one of fright over his safety, but over the thought that all of his elegant clothing would be wet through and through.
He made a great splashing when he came up, and soon grasped the gunwale of his boat.
"You rascal!" he spluttered. "Just wait till I settle with you!"
"It's your own fault that you went overboard," retorted Ralph. "I sincerely hope that it cures your fiery temper."
"Don't talk to me!"
"All right, I won't," and without another word Ralph walked off, leaving Percy to get out of his predicament as best he could.
The young aristocrat was fearfully angry when he at last drew himself out of the lake. His hat had floated off, and he was compelled to row away from shore for it. By the time he came back Ralph had disappeared.
"I'll fix him for that!" muttered the young bully, hotly. "I'll fix him, see if I don't!"
It made Percy doubly angry to think that Ralph had been so richly rewarded for stopping the runaway team. Percy thought a good deal of Julia Carrington, and he fondly hoped that the young and beautiful girl regarded him with equal favor. He would have been disagreeably surprised had he known the exact truth.
Percy had rowed over to Eastport, intending to call at Mr. Dunham's sporting goods store for a new fishing-rod with which to go fishing up the lake. But now he was out of the humor for this, and, instead of landing again, he turned back toward Westville.
It was a bright, sunshiny day, and by spreading out his coat on the seats, he soon had it fairly dry. He also pressed the water from his cap and from his vest and trousers as best he could.
"Yes, sir, I'll get square with him, just as sure as my name is Percy Paget," he muttered over and over to himself.
Percy was just about to tie up at one of the little wharves some distance above the bridge, when he espied two young ladies walking along the shore. They were Julia Carrington and her intimate friend, Carrie Baker.
"Good-morning!" cried Percy, raising his cap with what he imagined was a decidedly graceful flourish.
"Good-morning, Mr. Paget," returned Carrie Baker, coldly, while Julia Carrington merely bowed.
"I trust you are quite over the excitement of a couple of mornings ago," went on the rich young man, to Julia.
"Oh, yes," she returned, shortly.
"I guess I got the worst of that," went on Percy. "I got pitched out in double-quick order, didn't I?"
"Indeed! I fancied you jumped out," rejoined Julia, stiffly.
"What! do you suppose I would jump, and leave you and your mother to your fate?" demanded the young aristocrat, in well-assumed surprise. "Oh, no, Julia! You ought to know me better than that."
"I know you well enough, Mr. Paget," returned the girl. "Good-morning," and she touched her companion on the arm to go.
"Hold on, please!" urged Percy. "It's a splendid morning on the lake. Won't you go out for a row?"
"Thank you, I don't care to."
"Oh, yes, both of you come," urged the young bully.
"No rowing for me," put in Carrie Baker. "You might get a fright and tumble overboard, and leave us to our fate," she added, mischievously. Her friend had told her all the particulars of the incident on the road.
Percy could not help but feel the cut, thick-headed as he was. He tried to frame some fitting reply, but could not, and so rowed away, feeling in a worse humor than ever.
"It's all the fault of that Ralph Nelson," he said to himself. "He has set Julia against me. I'll fix him, see if I don't!"
In the meantime Ralph had resumed his search for employment throughout Eastport. He could not help thinking of the ludicrous picture Percy had presented whilefloundering in the water, and he laughed several times over the recollection.
Ralph visited three stores and two factories without the first signs of a situation. Then he came to a place where all sorts of novelties relating to the stationery trade were turned out.
"I can't give you a job in the factory," said the superintendent, "but I might start you on the road."
"On the road?"
"Yes, to sell to small dealers. You could take several satchels and a trunk, and go from village to village. There is a good bit of money to be made in that way. But you would have to leave a deposit on the goods you took out."
"And supposing I did not sell them?"
"You can return what remains unsold at the end of each trip."
"How much of a deposit would you require?"
"The wholesale price of the goods taken out—say about fifty dollars up."
"And how about the cost of getting around?"
"Well, I allow a dollar a day to experienced agents for expenses. But a green hand would have to pay his own way. I have to protect myself in that way, or otherwise some loafers would just start out to get the dollar, without doing anything for it."
"I suppose that is so," returned Ralph, thoughtfully. "I will think over the matter, and perhaps I'll come back later on."
"All right. I can lend you an outfit, on security, so ifyou do not make a go of the business you will not be out of pocket a great deal."
"Thank you," returned the boy.
It was now half-past four, and the list of factories was about exhausted. Three more stores remained. Ralph visited them in quick succession, only to receive the old answer—no new help wanted.
"I'll go back to Mr. Dunham's, and tell him I'll go to work distributing those circulars in the morning," said Ralph to himself. "And after that job is done, if nothing more definite turns up, I'll try peddling those goods to the small stationery and general stores."
He hurried back to the store where sporting goods were sold. As he entered he saw Dock Brady at the back counter.
Brady was busy buying some powder, and did not at first see him. But on turning he nodded pleasantly.
"I wonder what he wants with powder?" thought Ralph. "I did not know surveyors used it."
But then it crossed his mind that perhaps the man used it for firearms when surveying in wild parts of the country, and he did not give the matter a second thought. He waited until Dock Brady had paid for his purchase and left, and then told the storekeeper of his decision.
"All right, Nelson," said Mr. Dunham. "You can go to work at seven o'clock to-morrow morning. Let me see, you live in Westville, don't you?"
"Yes, sir."
"Some of the circulars are to go there, and also back to Hopeville. Supposing you take them with you now, andstart out distributing them from your home, instead of coming here? It will save time."
To this Ralph readily agreed, and, after some few instructions concerning the work to be done, quitted the store with a big package of the circulars under his arm.
Although he had struck no regular employment, he was not as disappointed as he might have been. There was a week's work to do, and then the peddling to try, and that was something.
"I knew it would be difficult to obtain an opening," said Mrs. Nelson, on hearing his story. "Times are hard, and you can be thankful that you have even a little."
"I am thankful, mother," replied Ralph.
"In distributing the circulars you may be able to hear of some opening," she went on. "Although you must not waste Mr. Dunham's time in hunting it up."
"If I waste any time I will make it up to him. I believe in working on the square, no matter what I do," rejoined Ralph, flatly.
"That is right, my son; treat every person with whom you have dealings honestly, and you are bound to succeed in life."
During the evening Ralph told his mother of Percy Paget's mishap at the dock. She shook her head sadly.
"He is a headstrong boy, and I am sorry he comes so often in your path," she said. "He will be more down on you now than ever."
"I shall watch out for him," returned Ralph. "He shall not cause me more trouble, if I can help it."
On the following morning, bright and early, Ralph started out to distribute Mr. Dunham's circulars. He carried the bulk of them in a canvas bag over his shoulder, and took his lunch with him, in case he was not near home during the noon hour.
After leaving a circular at each of a dozen cottages, he came to the stores.
"Hallo, in a new business, eh?" remarked Uriah Dicks as he placed one of the bills on the latter's front counter.
"Yes, sir."
"I guess that don't pay much," sniffed Uriah.
"It pays better than nothing," laughed Ralph.
"You might better have come here to work for me."
"That is a matter of opinion, Mr. Dicks."
"No, it hain't; it's the truth," grumbled the storekeeper. "How long is that makeshift job goin' to last?"
"A week."
"Exactly! an' then you'll be out again."
"Perhaps something else will turn up in the meantime."
"'Tain't likely. A job in the store would be more respectable than carting around sech trash, which everybody sticks in the fire soon as they get 'em."
The truth was that Uriah was hard pressed for help,his son having gone away on a business trip to Chambersburgh and New York. He had tried to get a boy in vain, all of those in the village knowing his mean ways too well to undertake to work for him.
"This is honest work, and that's enough for me," said Ralph. "I am not ashamed of it."
"Well, suit yourself. Only I won't hold my offer to you open long," warned Uriah.
"Don't hold it open at all, if you can get any one else," said Ralph, and, fearing he was wasting his employer's time, he hurried off to the next place.
"Seems he don't care for a steady place, nohow!" growled Uriah, sourly. "Some boys don't know what's good for them!"
Ralph visited all of the stores, and even left a number of the circulars in the post office, tying them up on a string where the people coming in for letters might tear one off. Mr. Dunham had told him to do this and had given him a special package for that purpose.
While he was at work the clerk in the office, Henry Bott, came out to see what he was doing.
A little talk ensued regarding the circulars. It appeared that Mr. Hooker did not approve of circulars about the place.
"But you leave them there," said Henry Bott, "and I won't take them down unless he especially orders it."
Ralph was about to leave the post office when he brushed against a man who had just come in. The man was Dock Brady.
The boy was about to say something about meetingonce more, but Brady gave him no chance. As soon as he saw he was recognized he turned on his heel and walked away again.
"He acts mighty queer," thought the boy. "What can make him wish to avoid me?"
Ralph wondered if he would meet Percy on the hill among the fashionable houses. But he saw nothing of the aristocratic bully, although he even left a circular on the Pagets' front piazza.
By noon the boy had gone through the entire town. Then, after taking lunch, he started on foot for Hopeville, a mile away.
The road was uphill, leading directly from the lake shore. But soon Ralph was overtaken by a man in a farm wagon. It was some one he knew fairly well and the man asked him up on the seat.
"Thank you, Mr. Gillup, I wouldn't mind riding, as it is warm," said Ralph.
"Going to Hopeville with them bills?" asked Mr. Gillup, a farmer.
"Yes."
"Got into a new business since you left the bridge."
"For a time. It won't last long."
"It is a pity they took the bridge job from you. I jest told Ben Hooker, the postmaster, so."
"They acted as they thought best, I presume."
"I understand Squire Paget was at the bottom of it. He appears to be very much down on you."
"It's on account of his son Percy. He wouldn't do the right thing, and we had a row."
"Can't tell me nuthin' about that boy! Didn't I catch him stealin' my choicest pears last summer? If he comes around my place again, I'll fill him full of shot, see if I don't!"
"You had better not, Mr. Gillup! The squire will have you arrested. He won't let any one do the first thing against Percy."
"I ain't afeared of him, Ralph. If he comes around, he'll get the shot, sure pop. But I ain't calkerlatin' he'll come, because I give him warnin', and he's too precious scared o' his hide."
"I can't understand how the squire can put up with Percy's ways," said Ralph, after a pause. "He seems to ride right over his father."
"Squire Paget will rue it one of these days," returned Mr. Gillup, with a grave shake of his head. "Boys as is allowed their own way like that never amount to much."
The conversation helped to pass the time, and almost before they knew it, Hopeville was reached. Ralph thanked the farmer and left the wagon.
After leaving a bill in every store and house in the village, Ralph walked around to the various summer boarding-places. This took time, and ere he had finished it was dark.
"There! I imagine that is one fair day's work done," he said, at last, as he reached his final handful of bills. "I've covered a good many miles since I left home this morning."
He was fortunate enough to catch a ride back with a man who was carting a load of garden truck down to thelake for shipment, and he entered the cottage just as the clock was striking seven.
"Done for the day, and glad of it, mother!" he cried.
"You are not used to tramping around, Ralph," she returned, as she kissed him.
"That's a fact. I don't believe I would make a very good tramp, anyway," he went on.
"I trust you will never be reduced to that," she shuddered.
"No, I'm going to be something better than a tramp."
"Where have you been?" asked Mrs. Nelson.
Sitting down, Ralph told the story of his day's work. Like the true mother she was, Mrs. Nelson was thoroughly interested in all he had to say.
"To-morrow I shall go to Silver Cove and Rickson's Corners," he said. "And the day after to the hotels up at the head of the lake."
"I shouldn't think it would pay Mr. Dunham to advertise in this way."
"I think it will. Up at Hopeville I met a gentleman who read the circular eagerly. He said he had been hunting for a store where he might buy some toys and games for his children, and he is going to visit Mr. Dunham's place to-morrow. Half-a-dozen good customers would pay for the bills and for the distributing, too."
"If Mr. Dunham gets such an increase in trade, perhaps he will give you a place in the store," suggested Mrs. Nelson.
"That's so. I'll speak to him about it."
During the evening meal, Ralph noticed that his motherdid not appear to be very well, and presently he asked her about it.
"I have a pain in my side, Ralph," she said. "But I imagine it will get better by morning."
The two retired early. Ralph, worn out by his day's travels, soon fell asleep.
It was nearly two o'clock in the morning when Mrs. Nelson called him.
"It is too bad, Ralph," she said. "But I cannot stand it any longer."
"What is it, mother, the pain in your side?" he asked, springing up.
"Yes. It is growing worse, and I must have something for it."
"Shall I go for Dr. Foley?"
"You may go to his house. Tell him what is the trouble, and ask him to give you a plaster or some liniment for it."
"I will. You are not afraid to stay alone while I am gone?"
"Oh, no, only hurry as fast as you can."
"I will," replied Ralph, quickly.
In a few minutes he was in his clothes and on the way. Dr. Foley lived on the other side of the village, and the boy ran in the direction as rapidly as he could.
Ralph had to pass the building in which the post office was located. He was within a hundred feet of the place when suddenly a muffled explosion reached his ears.
"Hallo, what's that?" he cried to himself, and stopped short.
At first no sound followed the explosion. Then came hasty footsteps, and in the semi-darkness of the early morning he saw two men and a boy run from the post office building and hurry in the direction of the lake.
It was too dark to distinguish more than the forms of the persons and note that they each carried a satchel. In a few seconds they were out of sight.
"Something is wrong," thought Ralph. "What had I best do?"
Half a minute later several men rushed out on the street and toward the post office building. Ralph mingled with the crowd. It was not long before the truth of the matter was revealed. The post office safe had been blown open and robbed.