CHAPTER XII.
IN WHICH PHIL LISTENS TO A DISCUSSION, AND TAKES PART IN A STRUGGLE.
My work on the building was no lighter than it had been the day before;but I had done so much hard labor in the field and forest that it didnot wear upon me. I observed everything that was done by the skilledworkmen, and endeavored to profit by what I saw. I felt that I waslearning something every hour, and I was pleased to know that Mr.Clinch was entirely satisfied with me. At noon I hastened home, anxiousto know the condition of my father.
"How is your patient, Mrs. Greenough?" I asked, as I entered thekitchen where she was cooking the dinner.
"I am sorry to tell you, Phil, that he is gone."
"Gone!"
"Yes; I had to go over to the provision store for something fordinner. Mr. Farringford promised faithfully to remain in the house;but when I came back he had left. I was not absent more than fifteenminutes."
"I am very sorry for it; but it can't be helped," I replied, sadly.
"I am to blame, Phil. I ought to have locked the door, and taken thekey with me."
"Don't blame yourself at all, Mrs. Greenough," I interposed. "You havebeen very kind to him and to me, and I am greatly obliged to you."
"Perhaps you will be able to find him again."
"I will try this evening. I'm sorry I have not more time to take careof him."
"If you will get him back again I will do the best I can, and when I goout I will lock the door."
"Perhaps it is no use to try to do anything for him," I added.
"He is your father, Phil; and you must do and keep doing for him. Letus hope and pray that he may be saved."
After dinner I went to my work again; and that afternoon we finishedboarding the building.
"Can you lay shingles, Phil?" asked Mr. Clinch.
"I never did lay any, but I know I can after I have seen how it isdone."
"Conant shall show you how," he added.
I went upon the roof with my fellow-workman. As, in the short time Ihad worked with him, I had carefully observed all his instructions, andbeen obliging and respectful to him, Conant was very willing to showme how to work. But the operation of laying shingles is very simple,though it requires considerable care and skill in breaking joints, sothat the water shall not work through. I saw how it was done, and,though I worked rather slowly at first, I was soon able to lay theshingles to the satisfaction of my instructor. As I got the "hang ofthe thing" I worked more rapidly, and before night I could lay as manyas Conant. We lined the length of the roof, and while he began at oneend, I began at the other. At first we came together pretty near myend, but I gradually increased the distance until we met in the middle,showing that I did as much work as my instructor.
"Well, Phil, how did you get along shingling?" asked Mr. Clinch, when Iwent down the ladder at six o'clock.
"Pretty well, I think, sir," I replied. "I shall learn how in time."
"Learn how!" added Conant; "he can lay as many shingles in a day as Ican."
"If I can it is all because Conant showed me so well that I couldn'thelp doing it," said I, wishing to acknowledge my obligations to mykind instructor.
I saw that he was pleased with the compliment; and I have always foundthat a pleasant word, even from a boy, helps things along amazinglyin this world. It was better and fairer to attribute a portion of mysuccess to Conant's careful and patient teaching than to claim all thecredit of it myself. It was doing justice to him without injuring me,and was a cheap way to make a strong friend.
"I'm glad to have a fellow like you to work with, Phil," said Conant,as we walked up the street together. "Clinch put that Morgan Blair intomy charge to show him how to work; but he knew so much more than I didthat I couldn't teach him anything. His head is made of wood."
"I'm always very thankful to any one who will show me how to doanything."
"I see you are, Phil, and it's a real pleasure to teach you anything."
"Thank you; I think we shall agree together first rate."
"So do I; but I don't like these boys who know more than the lawallows."
We parted at the corner of the next street, and I went home to supper.My father had not returned to the house, and I did not expect he woulddo so. I was sorry I had not inquired about my mother when he was withme; but I had no good opportunity, and was confident that I should seehim again. After supper I left the house, and went to the Planters'Hotel, where I expected to find him; but it was only when he had adollar or two that he went there.
"Have you seen Mr. Farringford to-day?" I timidly asked one of thebar-tenders, who was disengaged.
"He has been here two or three times to-day," replied the man.
"Do you know where he is now?"
"I haven't the least idea. He hangs round Forstellar's, I think."
"Where is that?"
"It is a gambling-house," he added, giving me the street and number.
"What does Mr. Farringford do?" I asked, rather startled at beingdirected to a gambling-house.
"Do? Nothing," said the man, contemptuously. "He used to be a runnerfor a gambling-house, and followed this business as long as he couldkeep sober enough to do it."
"What is a runner?"
"One that ropes in customers to a gambling-saloon," laughed thebar-tender. "Farringford used to make money enough to pay for hisliquor at it; but lately he keeps so drunk that no one will go withhim. What do you want of him?"
"I wanted to see him."
"Do you know him?"
"I did not know him till yesterday. He knows a man who has some moneythat belongs to me," I replied.
But I was thankful that a customer came to prevent him from askingme any more questions. I was shocked to hear that my father had beenconnected with a gambling-house. He evidently did not think that thebusiness of a "runner" was disreputable, when he assured me that noone could accuse him of a dishonest or a dishonorable deed. But hewas only the wreck of a man, and it would have been strange indeedif his moral perception had not been impaired by his long course ofdissipation. I hastened to the place which had been described to me bythe bar-tender. The establishment had a bar-room on the lower floor,with a private staircase to the apartments above, where games of chancewere played.
I went into the bar-room, and saw well-dressed gentlemen passingthrough the private door to the stairs. I looked about the place ashort time. If my father was in the building, he was up stairs, and Idecided to attempt the passage. At the foot of the stairs a man stoppedme, and told me that no boys were allowed in the rooms above. I waswilling to believe that, considering the character of the house, thiswas a very wholesome regulation; but I wished to find my father. Iasked the sentinel if Mr. Farringford was up stairs. He did not know;if he was I couldn't see him. I inquired for Lynch then, but couldobtain no satisfaction. I insisted upon seeing one or both of these menwith so much zeal that the inside sentinel ordered me to leave thepremises. I gently and respectfully remonstrated; but the fellow tookme by the arm, and walked me out into the street. As I had no rightsthere, I did not resist.
I was rather indignant at this treatment, though I ought not tohave expected decent conduct on the part of the officials of suchan establishment. I decided not to abandon my purpose, though anysatisfactory result was rather hopeless just then. I planted myself onthe opposite side of the street, and watched the house, taking note ofevery one who went in or came out. I meant to stay there till midnightif necessary, for I judged from the answers of the inside sentinel thatthe persons for whom I had inquired were there.
My patience held out till the clock struck eight, when a policeman,by some strange fatality, happened to pass the place. He was on theother side of the street, and glanced into the bar-room as he passed.I determined to walk at his side, and tell him my story, so far as itrelated to the loss of my money. I crossed over for the purpose ofjoining him, hoping to induce him to enter the gambling-house with me.As I reached the front of the establishment, two men came out, bothof the
m making use of rather sharp language. Their voices attracted myattention.
One of them was Lynch, and the other was Farringford.
"I will not have my steps dogged by such a fellow as you are?"exclaimed the former, angrily.
"Don't make a noise, Lynch," said Farringford. "If you do, I'll referthe matter to a policeman, and send for the boy."
"Nonsense! I've told you I know nothing about the boy or his money,"added Lynch, moving down the street in the direction of the river.
Deeply interested in the discussion, I followed the parties closelyenough to hear every word they spoke. From what Lynch said I learnedthat they had already discussed the subject at the gambling-house; andI judged that the robber had fled in order to escape the importunity ofthe other.
"The boy speaks the truth, and if you don't give his money back I willmake St. Louis too warm for your comfort," retorted Farringford,warmly.
"I don't want to be bored with this matter any more," said Lynch. "Ifyou will clear out I will give you a dollar to get drunk upon."
"I ask no man to give me anything. That won't do; I want the money forthe boy."
"Why should you bother your head about the boy?"
"He's my boy, and I won't see him wronged by any one."
"Your boy!"
"Yes, my boy! He's my son," persisted Farringford.
"Nonsense! You have lost your wits."
I thought I had lost mine too. I could not believe that Farringfordintended to speak the truth when he said I was his son. He could notpossibly have known that I was his son. But my heart leaped up intomy throat when it flashed upon my mind that my father had opened thebureau drawer in my room, where I had placed the locket and the littleclothes I had worn when I was picked up on the Missouri River. Yet thiswas not probable, for I had locked the drawer, and put the key in asafe place. I was more inclined to think that Farringford called mehis son in order to explain his interest in my affairs. I followed thetwo men to the levee, where they suddenly halted near a street lamp. Idodged out of their sight, and kept walking back and forth near them;but, as I was a boy, they did not seem to notice me, or at least toconsider my presence of any importance.
"I am willing to get rid of you, Farringford, at any reasonable price,"said Lynch. "I will not be dogged another foot farther."
"Then give me back the ninety-seven dollars and a half you stole frommy boy," added Farringford.
"Don't say that thing again to me. I will give you five dollars if youwill bore me no more."
"No; I want the whole."
"Once for all, then, will you clear out, or not?"
"Once for all, I will not till you give up the money you stole from myboy."
"Then take the consequences," said Lynch, as he sprang upon thetottling Farringford.
My blood boiled then, and leaping upon Lynch, I bore him to the ground.He released his hold upon my father when he felt my grasp upon him.
"Police!" I shouted, as I lay upon my victim.
He struggled to shake me off; but I held on, for I knew that I mustkeep the advantage or lose my man.