CHAPTER VIII.
IN WHICH PHIL GOES TO WORK, AND MEETS AN OLD ACQUAINTANCE.
"Everything depends upon yourself now, Phil," said Captain Davis, as wewalked back to the steamer. "When Clinch finds that you are worth morethan three dollars a week, he will give you more."
"I didn't expect any more than that," I replied. "If it will pay myboard for a time, I shall be satisfied. I will do the best I can, and Ihope my wages will be increased very soon."
"Now you want a boarding-house," continued the captain. "I don't knowwhere to look for one, but I suppose you will not think of living atthe Planters' Hotel?"
"Not exactly, sir."
We entered a grocery store, near the house of Mr. Clinch, where thecaptain was acquainted, and he inquired for a suitable boarding-placefor a boy like me.
"If he's a good boy, I know just the place for him," replied the grocer.
"He is as good a boy as there is in the world," answered the captain,with a zeal that caused me to blush.
"Mrs. Greenough, who lives over my store, spoke to me, a few days ago,about a boy. She is an elderly woman, whose husband died about a yearago, leaving her this house. She has no other property except herfurniture, and the rent of this store about pays her expenses. She is alittle timid, and does not like to be alone in the house at night. Sheis a nice woman, and perhaps she will take your young man to board. Shewanted one of my young men to occupy a room up stairs, but both of themlive at home."
"We will go up and see her. This boy is going to work for Clinchto-morrow, and this will be a good locality for him."
"Just the place," added the grocer, as he conducted us up stairs to therooms of Mrs. Greenough.
The house was a small one, and the store occupied the whole of theground floor, except a small entry. It was three stories high, with aflat roof, and I judged that the tenement could not contain more thanfour rooms. We were taken up stairs, and found the lady in her littleparlor. She was about fifty years old, and did not appear to be in goodhealth. The grocer explained our business, and having vouched for thegood character of Captain Davis, he left us.
"I didn't think of taking a boy to board," said Mrs. Greenough. "Ithought if I could get one of the young men in the store to sleep inthe house, I should feel safer. But I don't know but I might take him,if he is a very steady boy."
"Steady as a judge, Mrs. Greenough," replied Captain Davis. "He's goingto be a carpenter."
"Is he? My poor husband was a carpenter," added the lady, wiping a tearfrom her eye. "I am a lone woman now."
"Phil will be good company for you. He knows more than most boys of hisage. He has fought through one campaign against the Indians, and is adead shot with his rifle."
"Not always, captain," I remonstrated.
"He has brought down his man, at any rate. He speaks French, and--"
"O, no, I don't, captain. I have studied it, and can read it a little."
"I don't talk any French," added the old lady, with a smile; so thatwon't make any difference. I thought, at one time, I would take a boywho would help me, and work a little for his board, but I concluded Icouldn't afford to do that; for I don't have anything but the rent ofthe store to live on."
"Well, Mrs. Greenough, you can split the difference. Phil can't affordto pay much for his board. He can help you a little in the morning andat night."
"I haven't much to do, except to bring up the wood and water from thecellar, which is down two flights, and it's rather hard work for me,for I'm not very strong."
"I shall be very glad to help you, Mrs. Greenough," I added.
"How much can you take him for, madam?" said the captain, beginning tobe a little impatient.
The old lady had not made up her mind on this important subject, andthe captain suggested two dollars a week as a fair price, if I helpedabout the house when I had time. She was satisfied with this amount,and I am sure I was; so the bargain was closed. Mrs. Greenough wantedto know more about me, and the captain spoke so handsomely of me, thatmy modesty will not permit me to quote his testimony. I walked backto the steamer with Captain Davis, and after thanking him, from thedepths of my heart, for all his kindness and care, I took my leave ofhim. He told me he should send all the effects of Mr. Gracewood to thestorehouse of his owners, where they could be obtained on his arrival.He advised me to write to my friends at once, and I promised to do sothat night. Taking the box, which contained the few articles of valueI possessed, under my arm, and the rifle I had brought from my foresthome, I hastened to my new boarding-house.
Before I did anything else, I wrote the letter to Mr. Gracewood, andcarried it to the post-office. On my return, Mrs. Greenough showed memy room. It was on the third floor, in the rear of her own apartment.I must say that it looked like a boudoir in a palace to me. It wasplainly but very neatly furnished. She told me I could put my clothesin the drawers of the bureau; but I answered that I had none to putthere, except a single woollen shirt, and a pair of socks, which I hadwashed myself on board of the steamer. I wore a suit of "civilizedclothes," as we called them at the settlement; and I had a pair ofwoollen shirts, and two pairs of socks. My landlady thought my wardrobewas rather scanty, but I considered it all-sufficient, and did notworry because I could not follow the fashion.
I opened my box, and took from it the little dress and other garmentswhich I had worn when old Matt Rockwood picked me up, on the MissouriRiver. Mrs. Greenough's curiosity was excited, and I told her all Iknew about my past history. She was deeply interested in the narrative,and asked me a great many questions about the Gracewoods, which Ianswered to the best of my ability. I was well pleased with my newhome. My landlady was very kind and motherly, and when I retired thatnight, I thanked God for his kindness in directing my steps to such apleasant abode.
When I awoke the next morning, I heard a church clock striking five.I rose and made my simple toilet in less time than I could have doneit even a year later. I went down into the kitchen, which was the roomMrs. Greenough occupied most of the time, and made a fire in the stove.I had done everything I could find to do when the landlady came down.
"You are quite handy about house, Phil," said she, with a cheerfulsmile.
"I ought to be. I used to keep house at the clearing. I can cook andwash."
"What can you cook?"
"I can boil potatoes, bake or roast them; I can fry and boil bacon, andI can bake bread. We didn't have so many things to work with as you dohere."
"Can you make pies and cake?"
"No; we never had those things at the clearing until Mrs. Gracewoodcame there."
"They were rich folks, you said."
"Yes; they have plenty of money; but it did not do them much good outin the woods. I should like to hear how Mrs. Gracewood is."
"I hope she is better. When they come you will have some strongfriends."
"Yes; but I intend to take care of myself. They will go among bigfolks, where I cannot go; but I hope I shall see Miss Ella sometimes."
"Of course you will."
"She is a beautiful young lady," I added, warmly.
"But you may find your father and mother one of these days."
"I hardly expect to do that; I doubt whether they are living."
"From what you say, I should think you might find out who they are.Of course they had some relations somewhere, and perhaps they will bewilling to take care of you."
"I don't want any one to take care of me; I mean to take care ofmyself. Mr. Gracewood has fifteen hundred dollars belonging to me."
"Well, that's comfortable. If you should be sick, you will not want foranything."
We talked over the past and the present till breakfast was ready. Thefried bacon and potatoes looked like old friends, and I did amplejustice to the fare. I am not sure that my landlady was not alarmedwhen she realized my eating capacity, as compared with the price I wasto pay for my board. At half past six I started for the building whichMr. Clinch was putting up. It was a large storehouse, near the levee
.
"Good, Phil! I'm glad to see you on hand in season," said my employer.
"I mean to be on time always, sir."
"I'm paying my best men two dollars a day now," added Mr. Clinch.
"Does that young man get two dollars a day?" I asked, pointing to a boyof eighteen or nineteen, who was putting on his overalls in front ofthe building.
"No; that's Morgan Blair. He came down from Illinois last spring. Igive him a dollar a day. He doesn't know the business, and that is morethan he is worth. You will work with Conant."
Calling one of the workmen who answered to this name, he directed himto take me under his charge. The frame of the building was up, and wewere to be engaged in boarding it.
"Come along, my boy; we will take the stiffening out of you in abouttwo hours," said Conant, as he led the way to the stage.
"All right; when I break down I will give you leave to bury me."
"Do you think you can lift your end of a board?"
"I can; and lift both ends, if need be."
"You have got the pluck, but it's hard work for a boy."
"I will keep my side up."
Mr. Clinch had given me a hammer and a bag of nails, which I tiedaround my body, as I saw the other men do. I was strong and tough, andcould easily handle any lumber used on the work. I carried my end ofeach board up to the frame, and I am sure I drove as many nails asConant. But I will not describe the process by which the building waserected. I did my full share of the work until noon.
"Don't you want to go to bed now?" asked Conant, when we knocked off.
"Go to bed! No. Why should I?"
"Ain't you tuckered out?"
"No, not at all; I don't feel quite so fresh as I did this morning, butI shall be all right again when I get my dinner."
"You are a tough 'un, then."
"Well, Conant, how does Phil get along?" asked Mr. Clinch, as we camedown from the stage.
"Tip-top; he has done a man's work--twice as much as Morgan," repliedConant, with more magnanimity than I had given him credit for.
"All right. Phil, I am glad you are getting along well. It will beeasier work when we get the building covered."
In going home to dinner, I went pretty near the steamboat levee.A boat had just come in, and I wanted to know if it had come fromthe Missouri, for I was very anxious to hear from the Gracewoods. Ihastened towards the landing. I met the passengers as they came up, andon inquiry of one of them learned that the steamer was from St. Joe,but she had not stopped at Delaware City; so of course the Gracewoodscould not have come in her.
I was about to leave, when I perceived Mr. Leonidas Lynchpinne comingacross the levee. I thought that I had business with him, and Ihastened to resume the relations with him which had been interrupted atLeavenworth.