CHAPTER VII.
AN ENCOUNTER WITH A TRAMP
It is hardly necessary to say that Andy's parents were equally surprised and pleased at his new engagement.
"You will like that better than working on the farm, I expect, Andy?" said Sterling Grant.
"Yes, father. I am willing to work, but I don't feel much interest in farming."
"It is hard work and poor pay, Andy, but I like it. I was brought up to it when a boy, and there is nothing else I can do."
"Andy is already beginning to get some advantage from his education," said Mrs. Grant.
Andy reported for duty, and during the first morning made up his mind that he should enjoy his new employment. Mr. Gale really desired to acquire a knowledge of Latin and Greek, and worked faithfully.
To Andy it was like a review of his own studies, and he experienced a satisfaction in the rapid progress of his pupil.
He felt quite at home with Mr. Gale, though their acquaintance had been so brief. When twelve o'clock came he was really sorry.
"What time shall I come over this afternoon, Mr. Gale?" he asked.
"At two o'clock. Can you borrow your friend Valentine's boat? I have sent for one, but it may be several days before it arrives."
"Oh, yes; I am sure Val will let me have it. He is a very good-natured boy."
"I will be glad to pay for its use."
"I don't think he'd accept anything."
"Then I will make him a present."
Before he returned to the hotel, Andy saw Valentine and obtained the loan of his boat.
At three o'clock Mr. Gale and Andy started from the boathouse, and again
Andy became a teacher.
The young man was a good rower, but Andy was able to give him some points. Sometimes they sat idle and let the boat float at will.
About four o'clock Conrad came down for his usual afternoon row. He was surprised and not altogether pleased at meeting Andy and his companion.
"Why are you not hoeing potatoes?" he asked.
"I've got a vacation," answered Andy, with a smile.
"Are you out for a row?" inquired Mr. Gale, pleasantly.
"Yes," answered Conrad, sullenly.
Though Walter Gale had nothing to do with his defeat, he could not quite forgive him for awarding the prize to Andy. He felt mortified whenever he thought of it, and wished Mr. Gale to understand that he was not inferior to Andy.
"I was unlucky the other day," he said. "I strained my muscles or I would not have been beaten."
"That was lucky for me, then," said Andy, good-naturedly.
"I didn't care so much for the money, but if I had been in my usual form
I should have gained the prize."
"Then you wouldn't object to a second race?" said Walter Gale, quietly.
"What do you mean?"
"If you would like to try it again over the same course, I will put up five dollars."
Conrad hesitated.
He would not object to winning five dollars. Indeed, he wished very much to have that sum, but he was not quite so sure that he could beat Andy as he claimed to be.
Should Andy win again, he would be obliged to concede his superiority.
"No," he said, after a pause; "I don't think I care to race again."
"Then I will make you another offer, but not so good a one. I row a little myself—indeed, Andy is training me, so that I hope soon to row better. If you will row against me, I will pay you two dollars. That will be the prize."
"But suppose you win?"
"Then I keep the two dollars myself. It will cost you nothing."
"I'll row," said Conrad, eagerly.
"Very well. We will appoint Andy umpire, or referee, whatever you call it."
Conrad was not altogether pleased with this selection, but he waived his objections and the race was rowed, Andy giving the signal.
Conrad won by a dozen lengths, Mr. Gale making a very good second.
"You have won, Conrad," said the young man, good-naturedly. "Here is the prize."
Conrad pocketed the bill with a good deal of satisfaction.
"I will row you any day," he said.
Walter Gale shook his head.
"I must wait till I have improved," he said, "or you will beat me every time."
Conrad would much prefer to have beaten Andy, but the two dollars gave him not a little satisfaction.
"Mr. Gale must be rich," he reflected. "I wish I could get in with him."
"As Andy has to work on the farm," he said, "I shall be glad to go out with you any afternoon."
"Thank you; but I have made an arrangement with Andy that will save him from the necessity of farm work."
Conrad opened his eyes in surprise.
Later in the evening, when he met Andy at the village store, he asked:
"How much does Mr. Gale pay you for going with him?"
"The arrangement is private, Conrad, or I would tell you."
"How much are you with him?"
"I go to the hotel at nine o'clock in the morning."
"What do you do then?"
"He calls me his private secretary."
"Do you get as much as three dollars a week?"
"I am sorry, I can't tell you."
"Oh, well, if it is such a profound secret. You seem to have got in with him."
"He treats me very kindly."
"Is he rich?"
"I don't know, but I presume he is."
"I don't see what keeps him in such a dull hole as Arden, when he could live in the city and be in the midst of things."
"At any rate, it is lucky for me that he chooses to stay here."
"What on earth does he want of a private secretary?" demanded Conrad.
"Perhaps you had better ask him."
"Probably he only hires you out of pity."
"I won't trouble myself about his motives, as long as he appears to like having me with him."
Several days passed. The mornings were spent in study, the afternoons on the pond.
There had been no change in the program, so that Andy was surprised when, one morning, Mr. Gale said:
"We will omit our lessons this morning; I am going to send you to Benton on an errand."
"Very well, sir."
"I have an account with the bank, and will send a check by you to be cashed."
"All right, sir."
"I will engage a top buggy for you at the hotel stable. I suppose you are used to driving?"
"Oh, yes, sir."
"And I suppose you know the way to Benton?"
"I have been there a good many times."
"Then there will be no trouble."
"When do you want me to start?"
"At eleven o'clock. That would get you home late to dinner. You may, therefore, stop and dine at the hotel in Benton."
This would make it a day's excursion. Andy liked driving, and the visit to Benton would be a pleasure to him.
"I will run home and tell mother I shall not be back to dinner," he said.
"Very well. Be back here at eleven o'clock."
"All right, sir."
When Andy reached the hotel on his return he found the buggy ready.
Harnessed to it was the best horse in the hotel stable.
"A pleasant journey to you!" said Walter Gale, smiling at Andy from the piazza.
"Thank you, sir."
Andy drove off at good speed. It was a bright, clear morning. The air was invigorating, and his spirits rose.
He reflected upon his good luck in having found such a friend as Walter Gale. He had been unfortunate, to be sure, in being compelled to leave school, but the hardship was very much mitigated by Mr. Gale's friendship.
He had gone two-thirds of the way when he overtook a man whose bloated look and shabby clothing proclaimed him to belong to the large class of tramps whose business seems to be to roam through the country in quest of plunder.
The man looked up as Andy reached him.
"I say, boy," he called out, "give me a lift, won't you?"
Andy was kind-hearted, but he was repelled by the unsavory look of the man who asked him this favor. He felt that it would be very unpleasant to have such a man sitting beside him in the buggy.
"I think you must excuse me," he said.
"What for?" asked the man, with a scowl. "Are you too proud to take in a poor man?"
"I don't object to you being poor," answered Andy; "but you look as if you had been drinking."
The man replied by an oath, and, bending over, he picked up a good-sized stone and flung it at the young driver. Fortunately his condition made his aim unsteady, and the stone flew wide of the mark.
Andy whipped up the horse, and was soon out of danger.
CHAPTER VIII.
A MOMENT OF DANGER
Andy did not examine the check till he reached the bank in Benton. Then, glancing at it before he presented it to the paying-teller, he found that it was for one hundred and twenty-five dollars.
"How will you have it?" asked the teller.
"Twenty-five dollars in small bills; the rest in fives and tens," answered Andy, as instructed by Mr. Gale.
The bills were counted out and placed in his hands. To Andy they seemed a large sum of money, and, indeed, the roll was big enough to convey that impression.
As he left the bank he saw the familiar but not welcome face of the tramp who had stopped him glued against the pane. He had attended to some errands before going to the bank, which allowed the fellow time to reach it in season to watch him.
"I wonder if he saw me putting away the bills?" thought Andy.
However, in a town like Benton, there was little chance of robbery.
The tramp looked at him with evil significance as he left the bank.
"Give me a dollar," he said.
"I can't," answered Andy.
"I saw you with a big roll of bills."
"They are not mine."
"Give me enough to buy a dinner, then," growled the tramp.
"Why should I give you anything? You threw a stone at me on the road."
The tramp turned away muttering, and the glance with which he eyed Andy was far from friendly.
As directed, Andy went over to the hotel and got dinner. He took the opportunity to dispose of the bills, putting all the large ones in his inside vest pocket. The small bills he distributed among his other pockets.
Andy started for home at two o'clock. He felt some responsibility, remembering that he had a considerable sum of money with him.
This made him anxious, and he felt that he should be glad to get home safe and deliver his funds to Mr. Gale. Probably he would not have thought of danger if he had not met the tramp on his way over.
The road for the most part was clear and open, but there was one portion, perhaps a third of a mile in length, bordered by trees and underbrush. It was so short, however, that it would be soon passed over.
But about the middle of it a man sprang from the side of the road and seized the horse by the bridle. It did not require a second look to satisfy Andy that it was the tramp.
The crisis had come! Andy's heart was in his mouth. He was a brave boy, but it might well make even an older person nervous to be stopped by an ill-looking tramp, who was without doubt a criminal.
"Let go that bridle!" called Andy in a tone which, in spite of his nervousness, was clear and resolute.
"So I will when I have got what I want," answered the tramp.
"What do you want?"
"Look at me and you can tell what I want."
"I presume you want money, but I have none to give you."
"You are lying. You have plenty of money about your clothes."
"I said I had no money to give you."
"Didn't I see you get a roll of bills at the bank?"
"Very likely you did, but what about that?"
"I want some of them. I won't take all, but I am a poor man, and I need them more than the man you are taking them to."
"Whom do you think I am taking them to?"
"Squire Carter. He is the only man in Arden that keeps no much money in the bank."
"You are mistaken; the money is not his."
"Whose, then?"
"I don't feel called upon to tell you."
"Well, that's neither here nor there. I want some of it. I'll be content with half, whoever owns it."
"You won't get any. Let go the horse, or I'll run you down."
"You're a smart kid, but you are no match for me. I don't scare worth a cent."
"Listen to me," said Andy; "if you should succeed in robbing me, you would be caught and sent to jail. How will that suit you?"
"It wouldn't be the first time I've been in jail. I'd just as soon be there as to tramp around without a cent of money."
Andy was not surprised to hear that he had to deal with an ex-convict. He understood that this man was a desperate character. He saw that he was a strong, powerful man, in the full vigor of life.
Any contest between them would be most unequal. He was but sixteen and the tramp was near forty. What could he do?
"I'll tell you what I'll do," he said, willing to try an experiment. "I've got two dollars of my own. I'll give you that if you'll let go my horse's bridle and give me no more trouble."
The tramp laughed mockingly.
"Do you take me for a fool?" he asked.
"Why?"
"Do you think I will be satisfied with two dollars, when you have a hundred in your pocket? Two dollars wouldn't last me a day."
"I have nothing to do with that. It is all I mean to give you."
"Then I shall have to help myself."
His cool impudence made Andy angry, and he brought down the whip forcibly on the horse's back.
Naturally the animal started, and nearly tore himself from the grasp of the tramp.
"So that is your game," said the fellow between his closed teeth. "If you try that again I'll pull you out of the buggy and give you such a beating as you never had before."
Andy remained cool and self-possessed. To carry out his threat the tramp would have to let go of the bridle, and in that case Andy determined to put his horse to his paces.
The tramp relaxed his hold and the horse stood stock-still, finding his attempt to get away futile.
"Well," said the tramp, "you didn't make much by that move, did you?"
"Did you make any more?"
"By Jove! you're a cool kid. But, after all, you're only a kid. Now, do as I tell you."
"What is that?"
"Put your hand in your pocket and take out fifty dollars. You've got as much, haven't you?"
"Yes."
"That's right. Speak the truth. You may have more, but fifty'll do me."
"Do you expect me to give you fifty dollars?"
"Yes, I do."
"I don't mean to do it."
Andy had satisfied himself that the tramp had no weapon, and this encouraged him. He could not hold the horse and attack him at one and the same time, but with a revolver he would have been at his mercy.
Besides, Andy's ears were keen, and he thought he heard the sound of wheels behind him. The tramp's attention was too much occupied, and perhaps his hearing was too dull to catch the sounds, as yet faint.
Thus it was that the other team was almost upon them before the tramp was aware of it. The newcomer was Saul Wheelock, a blacksmith, a strong, powerful man, fully six feet in height, and with muscles of steel.
He had seen the buggy standing still on the highway, and he could not understand the cause until he got near enough to see the tramp at the horse's head.
He sprang from the wagon he was driving, and before the vagabond was fully sensible of his danger he had him by the coat collar.
"What are you about?" he demanded, giving him a rough shake.
The tramp, turning, found he was in the hands of a man whom he was compelled to respect. He cared nothing for rank or learning, but physical force held him in awe.
He stood mute, unprepared, with an excuse.
"Why, it's you, Andy!" said the blacksmith. "Why did this rascal stop you?"
"He wants me to give him money. I've just been to the bank in Benton to draw out some for Mr. Gale at the hotel."
"Why, you scoundrel!" exclaimed the indignant blacksmith, shaking the tramp till his teeth chattered. "So you're a thief, are you?"
"Let me go!" whined the tramp. "I haven't taken anything. I'm a poor, unfortunate man. If I could get any work to do I wouldn't have been driven to this."
"No doubt you're a church member," said the blacksmith, in a sarcastic tone.
"Let me go! I'll promise to lead a good life. This young man says he'll give me two dollars. I'll take it and go."
"Don't give him a cent, Andy. You can go, but I'll give you something to remember me by."
He gave the tramp a vigorous kick that nearly prostrated him, and then, getting into his wagon, said:
"I'll keep along with you, Andy. I don't think you'll have any more trouble."
The tramp slunk into the woods, baffled and disappointed. If looks could have annihilated the sturdy blacksmith, his span of life would have been brief.
CHAPTER IX.
CONRAD'S SCHEME
When Andy told Mr. Gale the story of his adventures on the trip to
Benton, he received cordial congratulations on his courage.
"You have shown a great deal of pluck, Andy," he said. "The next time you have occasion to go over to the bank for me I will accompany you. Now, if you are not too tired, I want you to go down to the pond. I have something to show you."
They walked side by side till they reached the pond.
Andy's curiosity was not specially excited. He talked with Mr. Gale on different topics, and had hardly time to consider what it was he was to see. But when he reached the boathouse he saw floating at the small pier an elegant rowboat, built of cedar, and much handsomer than either Conrad's or Valentine's.
"Oh, what a beauty!" he exclaimed.
"Yes," said Mr. Gale, quietly; "you will have quite the best boat on the pond."
"I?" exclaimed Andy, in surprise.
"Yes, for the boat is yours."
"But I don't understand," stammered Andy.
"It is plain enough," said Walter Gale, with a pleasant smile. "The boat is yours. I give it to you."
"How can I thank you?" exclaimed Andy, grasping his friend's hand. "I can't believe that this beautiful boat is mine."
"You will realize it after a while. Let me tell you how I got it. It was built for a rich young man in New York, one of the Four Hundred, I believe, but as he received an unexpected invitation to go abroad for two years, he authorized the builder to sell it for him at a considerable reduction from the price he paid. So it happens that I was able to secure it for you. Now let us go out for a row. It will be the trial trip."
Fifteen minutes later Conrad got into his boat and started out. It was not long before his eyes were attracted to the new boat.
He could see at once, for he was a judge, that it was far more elegant and costly than his own, and he was seized by a pang of envy. His own boat seemed to him quite inferior, though but a short time before he had regarded it with pride.
He was curious to see the craft and pulled up to it.
"That is a fine boat you have there, Mr. Gale," he said.
"So I think," returned the young man. "I feel quite satisfied with it"
"When did it come down?"
"I only received it this morning."
"How much did it cost?" asked Conrad, who was not troubled by bashfulness.
"A small fortune," answered Walter Gale, with a smile. "I am afraid I must decline to give the exact figures."
"I asked because I may ask my father to buy me one like it."
Conrad was perfectly well aware that such a request would be promptly denied. Squire Carter was not disposed to be extravagant, and he had even hesitated for some time before incurring the outlay required for Conrad's present boat.
The new boat was so elegant, so graceful, and so thoroughly finished in every part, that Conrad could not help coveting it. He was not very much to be blamed, for it was one that would captivate the fancy of any boy who was fond of the water.
"I should like to try the boat some time, Mr. Gale," he said.
"If the owner is willing, I am," returned the young man.
"The owner? Why, doesn't it belong to you?" asked Conrad, in surprise.
"No; it belongs to Andy."
"That boat belong to Andy Grant?" exclaimed Conrad, with an incredulous frown.
"Yes; I have given it to him. You will have to ask his permission."
"I shall be glad to have you try it," said Andy, pleasantly.
"Thank you, but I don't think I care for it," replied Conrad, coldly.
He felt a pang of mortification to think that the farmer's son should have a boat so much superior to his own.
"If you change your mind, let me know," said Andy.
"Conrad is jealous," remarked Walter Gale. "He doesn't like to have you own a boat that is superior to his."
"I think you are right, Mr. Gale. If the case were reversed I would not mind."
"Because you are not disposed to be envious or jealous."
When Conrad returned home there was a cloud upon his brow. It was easy for any one to see that he was in bad humor.
"What is the matter, Conrad?" asked his father. "You look as if you had lost your best friend."
"I hate Andy Grant," exploded Conrad, his eyes flashing with anger.
"Why, what has Andy done now? You haven't had a fight, have you?"
"No; I wouldn't demean myself by fighting with him."
"What is it, then?"
"He is always doing something to annoy me."
"I am still in the dark."
"He has got a new boat, far handsomer than mine. I shouldn't wonder if it cost twice as much."
Squire Conrad was surprised.
"Where did he get it?" he inquired.
"It was a present from Mr. Gale, the young man at the hotel."
"He must like young Grant very much?"
"It is ridiculous that a poor boy should own such a boat."
"I don't see how we can help it," said the squire, philosophically.
He did not take the superiority of Andy's boat so much to heart as his son.
"I'll tell you how you can make it right, father."
"How?"
"By buying me a boat as good or better than the new one."
"Why should I buy you another boat? The one you have is only six months old, and it cost me a pretty penny, I assure you."
"That may be, but I shall not feel any more satisfaction in it, now that
Andy has a better one."
"All this is foolish, my son."
"Then you won't buy me a new boat?"
"Most certainly I won't," said the squire, firmly.
Conrad's countenance fell, but another idea came to him.
"Suppose Andy is willing to exchange with me for something to boot?"
"You say the boat is a fine one?"
"Elegant."
"You may offer him ten dollars."
"Won't you say fifteen, father? I assure you it is worth much more than that difference."
"You can offer him ten dollars, and see what he has to say to it."
Conrad managed to see Andy the next day, and made him the offer.
"Do you think I would part with Mr. Gale's gift?" said Andy, indignantly.
"He wouldn't care; and ten dollars is a good deal of money," said
Conrad, insinuatingly.
"If you offered me fifty dollars I would say the same. I am not particularly in want of money."
"I suppose you say that because you are earning three dollars a week."
"Who told you how much Mr. Gale paid me?" asked Andy, smiling.
"Then he does get three dollars a week," reflected Conrad.
He redoubled his entreaties, but Andy refused firmly.
Half an hour later Conrad met on the street a shabby figure with whom we are already acquainted. It was the tramp who figured in an encounter with Andy when on his way to Benton.
"Young gentleman," said the tramp, with a whine, "you look rich and generous. Can't you spare a poor man a trifle?"
"You look as if you drank," replied Conrad, with brutal frankness. "Your nose is red."
"That's owing to a skin disease. I have belonged to the Temperance
Society for five years."
"Humph! you don't look like it. Why don't you work?"
"Because I can find nothing to do."
Here a contemptible suggestion offered itself to Conrad.
"If you will do something for me, and keep mum, I'll give you two dollars."
"I'll do it if it isn't too hard."
"Then I'll tell you what it is. There's a boat on the pond that belongs to an enemy of mine. He is always crowing over me. Now, if you'll manage this evening to set it on fire, I'll give you two dollars."
"How shall I set it on fire? With a match?"
"No; I'll supply you with some shavings, a few pieces of board, and some pitch. There won't be any trouble about it."
"Who owns the boat?"
Conrad described Andy.
"That's the boy who—but never mind! I'll do it."
Once convinced that in this way he could get revenge on the boy who had humiliated and got the best of him, the tramp was only too willing to help Conrad in his scheme.
When Conrad went home at nine o'clock, after supplying the tramp with combustibles, he said to himself:
"There won't be much left of Andy's boat in the morning."