Read Helping Himself; Or, Grant Thornton's Ambition Page 12


  "I suppose Barton is a farmer?" he suggested.

  "He pretends to be, but his farm doesn't pay much."

  "What supports them?"

  "His wife takes in work from the tailors in the the village. Thenthey've got a cow, and she makes butter. As for Joel, he brings inprecious little money. He might pick up a few dollars hirin' out bythe day, if he wasn't so lazy. I had a job for him myself one day,but he knocked off at noon--said he was tuckered out, and wanted meto pay him for that half day. I knew well enough where the moneywould go, so I told him I wouldn't pay him unless he worked untilsunset."

  "Did he do it?"

  "Yes, he did; but he grumbled a good deal. When he got his pay hewent over to Thompson's saloon, and he didn't leave it until all themoney was spent. When his wife heard of it she was mad, and I expectshe gave Joel a taste of the broom handle."

  "I wouldn't blame her much."

  "Nor I. But here we are. Yonder's Barton's house. Will you get out?"

  "Yes."

  Abner, who was sitting on a stump, no sooner saw the team stop thanhe ran into the house, in some excitement, to tell the news.

  "Marm," he said, "there's a team stopped, and there's a man and boygettin' out; 'spect they're coming here."

  "Lord's sake! Who be they?"

  "Dunno."

  "Well, go out and tell 'em I'll see' em in a minute."

  Abner met them in front of the house.

  "Are you Joel Barton's son?" asked Ford.

  "That's what the old man says," returned Abner, with a grin.

  "Is your mother at home?"

  "Marm will be right out. She's slickin' up. Who be you?"

  "You'll know in good time, my boy." "Who's he? Is he your son?"

  "No," answered Herbert promptly.

  Willis Ford turned upon his young ward with a frown. He understoodthe boy's tone.

  "It will be time to speak when you are spoken to," he said sharply.

  "Here's marm'" said Abner, as his mother's tall figure appeared inthe doorway.

  CHAPTER XXVIII -- HERBERT IS PROVIDED WITH A NEW HOME

  Mrs. Barton regarded the newcomers with a wondering stare.

  "Did you want to see Joel?" she asked.

  "I shall be glad to see him in due time, Mrs. Barton," returnedWillis Ford, with unwonted politeness; "but I came principally tosee you."

  "Who be you?" inquired Mrs. Barton, unceremoniously; "I don't knowyou no more'n the dead."

  "There is a slight connection between us, however. I am the stepsonof Pauline Estabrook, of New York, who is a cousin of yours."

  "You don't say Pauline is your mother?" ejaculated the lady of thehouse. "Well, I never expected to see kith or kin of hers out here.Is that your son?"

  "No, Mrs. Barton; but he is under my charge."

  Herbert was about to disclaim this, but an ominous frown from WillisFord intimidated him.

  "My name is Willis Ford; his is Sam Green."

  Herbert's eyes opened wide with astonishment at this statement.

  "My name is--" he commenced.

  "Silence!" hissed Ford, with a menacing look. "You must notcontradict me."

  "I s'pose I ought to invite you to stay here," said Mrs. Barton,awkwardly; "but he's so shif'less, and such a poor provider, that Iain't got anything in the house fit for dinner."

  "Thank you," returned Ford, with an inward shudder. "I shall dine atthe hotel; but I have a little business matter to speak of, Mrs.Barton, and I would wish to speak in private. I will come into thehouse, with your permission, and we will leave the two boystogether."

  "Come right in," said Mrs. Barton, whose curiosity was aroused."Here, you Abner, just take care of the little boy."

  Abner proceeded to do this, first thinking it necessary to ask a fewquestions.

  "Where do you live when you're at home, Sam?" he asked.

  "In New York; but my name isn't Sam," replied Herbert.

  "What is it, then?"

  "Herbert."

  "What makes him call you Sam, then?" asked Abner, with a jerk of thefinger toward the house.

  "I don't know, except he is afraid I will be found."

  Abner looked puzzled.

  "Is he your guardeen?" he asked.

  "No; he was my father's clerk."

  "Ho! Did your father have clerks?"

  "Yes; he is a rich man and does business in New York."

  "What made him send you out here?"

  "He didn't."

  "Then why did you come?"

  "Mr. Ford was mad with papa, and stole me away."

  "He wouldn't steal me away easy!" said Abner, defiantly; "but, then,I ain't a little kid like you."

  "I'm not a kid," said Herbert, who was not used to slang.

  "Oh, you don't know what I mean--you're a little boy and couldn't donothin'. If he tried to take me, he'd find his hands full."

  Herbert, who was not very much prepossessed by Abner's appearance,thought it very doubtful whether any one would ever attempt tokidnap him.

  "What's he goin' to do with you?" continued Abner.

  "I don't know. I expect he'll make papa pay a good sum to get meback."

  "Humph!" remarked Abner, surveying with some contempt the smallproportions of the boy before him. "You ain't much good. I don'tbelieve he'll pay much for you."

  Tears sprang to the eyes of the little boy, but he forced them back.

  "My papa would think differently," he said.

  "Papa!" mimicked Abner. "Oh, how nice we are! Why don't you say dad,like I do?"

  "Because it isn't a nice name. Papa wouldn't like to have me callhim so."

  "Where did you get them clothes? I don't think much of 'em."

  "Nor I," answered Herbert. "They're not my own clothes. Mr. Fordbought them for me in Chicago."

  "He must like you, to buy you new clothes."

  "No, he doesn't. My own clothes were much nicer. He sold them. Hewas afraid some one would know me in the others."

  "I wonder what he and marm are talking about so long?"

  This question Herbert was unable to answer. He did not guess hownearly this conversation affected him.

  No sooner had the two entered the house than Willis Ford began.

  "Mrs. Barton," he said, "I'll tell you now what brought me here."

  "Go ahead," said the lady, encouragingly.

  "I want you to take the boy I have brought with me to board."

  "Land sakes! I don't keep a boardin' house!"

  "No; but if I will make it worth your while you will take him, won'tyou?"

  "How much will you give?" asked Mrs. Barton, shrewdly.

  "Four dollars a week."

  "He'll be a sight of trouble," said the lady; but there wassomething in her tone that satisfied Ford that she was favorablyinclined to the proposal.

  "Oh, no, he won't. He's so small that you can twist him round yourfinger. Besides, Abner will be company for him. He will be with himmost of the time."

  "Say five dollars and it's a bargain," said Mrs. Barton.

  Ford hesitated. He did not care to spend more than he was obligedto, but it was of importance to obtain at least a temporary refugefor the boy, of whose care he was heartily tired. It seemed to himthat five dollars would be enough to support the whole family in thestyle in which they were apparently accustomed to live. However, itwas politic to make the sum sufficient to interest these people inretaining charge of the boy.

  "Well," he said, after a pause, "it's more than I expected to pay,but I suppose I shall have to accept your terms. I conclude Mr.Barton will not object to your taking a boarder?"

  "Oh, Joel is of no account," returned Mrs. Barton, contemptuously."I run this house!"

  Willis Ford suppressed a smile. He could easily believe from Mrs.Barton's appearance that she was the head of the establishment.

  "There's one thing more," added Mrs. Barton; "you're to pay themoney to me. Jest as sure as it goes into Joel's hands, it'll go fordrink. The way that man carries on is a disgra
ce."

  "I should prefer to pay the money to you," said Ford.

  "You'll have to pay somethin' in advance, if you want the boy tohave anythin' to eat. I've got to send to the village, and I haven'tgot a cent in the house."

  Willis Ford took out a pocketbook. Extracting therefrom fourfive-dollar bills, he handed them to Mrs. Barton.

  "There's money for four weeks," he said. "When that time is up I'llsend you more."

  Mrs. Barton's eyes sparkled, and she eagerly clutched the money.

  "I ain't seen so much money for years," she said. "I'll jest lookout Joel don't get hold of it. Don't you tell Joel or Abner how muchyou've paid me."

  "I'll take care of that, Mrs. Barton. By the way, I must caution younot to believe any of the boy's stories. He's the son of a friend ofmine, who's put him under my care. The boy's weak-minded, and hasstrange fancies. He thinks his name isn't Sam Green, and that hisfather is rich. Why, only the other day he insisted his name wasGeorge Washington."

  "Land's sake! How cur'us!" "Of course; you won't pay any attentionto what he says. He may take it into his head to run away. If hedoes, you must get him back."

  "You can trust me to do that!" said Mrs. Barton, with emphasis. "Iain't goin' to let no five-dollar boarder slip through my fingers!"

  "That's well! Now I must be going. You will hear from me from timeto time."

  He passed through the front door into the yard.

  "Good-by!" he said.

  Herbert was about to follow him, but he waived him back.

  "You are not to come with me, Sam," he said. "I shall leave you fora few weeks with this good lady."

  Herbert stared at him in dismay. This was something he had neverdreamed of.

  CHAPTER XXIX -- INTRODUCES MR. BARTON

  When Herbert realized that he was to be left behind he ran afterWillis Ford, and pleaded for the privilege of accompanying him."Don't leave me here, Mr. Ford!" he said. "I should die ofhomesickness!"

  "So you would rather go with me?" Ford said, with an amused smile.

  "Oh, yes, much rather!"

  "I had not supposed you valued my company so highly. I ought to feelcomplimented. I am sorry to disappoint you, but I shall have toleave you here for a few weeks. This good lady will take good careof you."

  Herbert stole a glance at Mrs. Barton, who was watching him withmingled contempt and impatience, but he did not become any morereconciled to the prospect. He reiterated his request.

  "I have had enough of this," said Ford, sternly. "You will stopmaking a fuss if you know what is best for yourself. Good-by! Youwill hear from me soon."

  Herbert realized the uselessness of his resistance, and sankdespondently upon the grass.

  "Is he goin' to stay here, marm?" asked Abner, curiously.

  "Yes; he's goin' to board with us."

  "Ho, ho!" laughed Abner; "he'll have a nice boardin' place!"

  "Abner, you jest shut up, or I'll take a stick to you! You needn'tmake him any more homesick than he is. Just try ef you can't amusehim."

  "Say, Sam, I guess we'll have a stavin' time together," said Abner,really pleased to have a companion. "What'll we do? Want to playleapfrog?"

  "I don't feel like playing," answered Herbert, despondently.

  "We might go fishin'," suggested Abner. "There's a pond only aquarter of a mile from here."

  "I don't know how to fish," said Herbert.

  "Don't know how to fish? What do you know how to do?"

  "We don't have any chance in New York."

  "Say," exclaimed Abner, with sudden interest, "is New York a niceplace?"

  "I wish I was back there. I never shall be happy anywhere's else."

  "Tell me what you fellows do there. I dunno but I'd like to gomyself."

  Before Herbert had a chance to answer Mrs. Barton broke in:

  "Abner, you take care of Sam while I go to the village."

  "What are you goin' there for, marm?"

  "I'm going to buy some sausages for dinner. We haven't got anythingin the house."

  "Me and Sam will go, if you'll give us the money."

  "I know you too well, Abner Barton. I won't trust you with themoney. Ef I gave you a five-dollar bill, I'd never see any on't backagain."

  "Say, mam, you haven't got a five-dollar bill, have you?" askedAbner, with distended eyes.

  "Never you mind!"

  "I'll tell dad ef you don't give me some."

  "You jest dare to do it!" returned Mrs. Barton, in a menacing tone."Your father ain't got nothin' to do with it. It's money for Sam'sboard."

  "My name isn't Sam," expostulated Herbert, who had a naturalpreference for his own appellation.

  "That's what I'm goin' to call you. You can call yourself GeorgeWashington, or General Jackson, ef you want to. Mebbe you'reChristopher Columbus."

  "My name is Herbert Reynolds," said Herbert, annoyed.

  "That's what you call yourself to-day. There's no knowin' who you'llbe to-morrow."

  "Don't you believe me, Mrs. Barton?" asked Herbert, distressed.

  "No, I don't. The man who brung you--I dis-remember his name--"

  "Willis Ford."

  "Well, Willis Ford, then! It seems you know his name. Well, he toldme you was loony, and thought you was somebody else than your ownself."

  "He told you that I was crazy?" ejaculated Herbert.

  "Yes; and I have no doubt it's so."

  "It's a wicked lie!" exclaimed Herbert, indignantly; "and I'd liketo tell him so to his face."

  "Well, you won't have a chance for some time. But I can't stand heretalkin'. I must be goin' to the store. You two behave yourselveswhile I'm gone!"

  Herbert felt so dull and dispirited that he did not care to speak,but Abner's curiosity had been excited about New York, and he pliedhis young companion with questions, which Herbert answered wearily.Though he responded listlessly, and did not say any more than hefelt obliged to, he excited Abner's interest.

  "I mean to go to New York some time," he said. "Is it far?"

  "It's as much as a thousand miles. It may be more."

  "Phew! That's a big distance. How did you come?"

  "We came in the cars."

  "Did it cost much?"

  "I don't know. Mr. Ford paid for the tickets."

  "Has he got plenty of money?"

  "I don't think he has. He used to be pa's clerk."

  "I wish we had enough money. You and me would start some finemornin', and mebbe your father would give me something to do when wegot there."

  For the first time Herbert began to feel an interest in theconversation.

  "Oh, I wish we could," he said, fervently. "I know pa would give youa lot of money for bringing me back."

  "Do you really think he would?" asked Abner, briskly.

  "I know he would. But your mother wouldn't let us go."

  "She wouldn't know it," said Abner, winking.

  "You wouldn't run away from home?" questioned Herbert.

  "Why wouldn't I? What's to keep me here? Marm's always scoldin', anddad gets drunk whenever he has any money to spend for drink. Ireckon they wouldn't care much if I made myself scarce."

  Herbert was not sure whether he ought not to feel shocked. Headmitted to himself, however, that if he had a father and motheranswering the description of Abner's, that he would not so muchregret leaving them. At any rate, Abner's words awoke a hope ofsometime getting away from the place he already hated, and returningto his city home, now more valued than ever.

  "We can't go without money," he said, in a troubled voice.

  "Couldn't we walk?"

  "It's too far, and I'm not strong."

  "I could walk it, ef I took time enough," asserted Abner,positively. "Hello! there's dad!"

  Herbert looked up, and, following Abner's glance, saw a manapproaching the farmhouse. Mr. Barton--for it was he--was a tallman, shabbily attired, his head crowned with a battered hat, whosegait indicated a little uncertainty, and betrayed some difficultyabout the maintenance of h
is equilibrium.

  "Is that your father?" asked Herbert.

  "It's the old man, sure enough. He's about half full."

  "What's that?"

  "He's been drinkin', as usual; but he didn't drink enough to makehim tight. Guess his funds give out."

  Herbert was rather shocked at Abner's want of respect in speaking ofhis father, but even to him Mr. Barton hardly seemed like a man whocould command a son's respect.

  "Wonder whether dad met marm on the way?" said Abner, musing.

  By this time, Mr. Barton had entered the yard, and caught sight ofhis son and Herbert.

  "Abner," said he, in a thick voice, "who's that boy?"

  "Then he didn't meet marm," thought Abner. "He's a boy that's goin'to board with us, dad," he answered.

  "You don't say! Glad to make your acquaintance, boy," he said,straightening up.

  "Thank you, sir," answered Herbert, faintly.

  CHAPTER XXX -- A MODEL HOUSEHOLD

  "When did you come?" asked Barton, steadying himself against a tree.

  "Half an hour ago," answered Abner, for Herbert was gazing, with arepulsion he found it difficult to conceal, at Barton, whose flushedface and thick utterance indicated his condition very clearly.