CHAPTER X.
THE TRAMP'S MISTAKE
Conrad went to bed with the comfortable conviction that before morning Andy's beautiful boat would be ruined. I am sorry to say that the meanness of the act which he had instigated did not strike him.
Whatever feeling he had was of exultation at the injury done to his enemy, as he persisted in regarding Andy.
It did seem a pity that such an elegant boat should be destroyed. If Andy would only have agreed to exchange for ten—even fifteen—dollars to boot, this would have been avoided.
"He was a fool not to accept," soliloquized Conrad. "He will regret it when he sees what has happened."
He got up at the usual hour and took breakfast. Every time the bell rang he thought it might be some one to bring him the desired news.
Just after supper Andy met his friend, Valentine, and told him of the beautiful gift he had received.
"Come down and look at it, Val," he said. "It is elegant."
Valentine's curiosity was excited, and he at once accepted the invitation.
He uttered an exclamation of surprise when he saw the new boat.
"It is a little beauty!" he said. "It is far ahead of Conrad's or of mine."
"Conrad wants to exchange. He offered me ten dollars to boot."
"You wouldn't think of accepting?"
"No; it is worth much more than that. Besides, it is Mr. Gale's gift, and even if he had offered fifty dollars I should still refuse."
"And you would do right, too. But are you going to leave it out all night?"
"I shall have to. I have no boathouse to put it in."
"There is room in my boathouse for two boats," said Valentine. "I will help you put it inside."
"Thank you, Val. I will be glad to pay you rent for the use of the place."
"I don't want any money, Andy; I will do it out of friendship."
"Thank you; but you mustn't forget that I am quite able to pay."
"That's true, and I am glad of it; but, all the same, I don't want any money."
"I wonder Conrad doesn't have a boathouse."
"He tells me his father has promised him one. He has not yet decided upon a location."
The two boys got into Andy's boat and rowed it a few rods till they reached the boathouse. There was no difficulty in putting it away. The boathouse was double, and there was room for two boats.
"I will have another key made, Andy, so that you can get at your boat when I am not with you."
"All right! That will be very nice."
"How do you like Mr. Gale?"
"Tiptop. I was very fortunate to fall in with him. It will be a great loss to me when he goes away."
"Is he thinking of going soon?"
"I don't think so—I hope not."
It was later in the evening when the tramp went down to the pond, provided with the shavings and other combustibles which Conrad had provided.
Conrad, after meeting him, had gone home at once. He thought it more prudent, in view of the plot in which he was engaged, to avoid suspicion by not being seen in company with the tramp.
"Give me the two dollars now," said the tramp, when the fuel was handed him.
"Do you think I am a fool?" answered Conrad, sharply. "If I should do that, you would go off and not do the work."
"I'll do the work fast enough. I want to get even with that young rascal."
"What! Do you know him?"
"I have met him," answered the tramp, evasively. "He played me a mean trick, and I want to get even with him."
"What sort of a trick was it?"
"I will tell you some other time—I haven't time now. I wish I had a hatchet."
"What for?"
"Then, if the fire didn't spoil the boat, I'd hack it up."
"I think I can get you a hatchet, but you must not leave it on the bank, for my father's initial, 'C,' is on it."
"All right. I'll be careful."
The hatchet was delivered to the tramp a little later.
About eight o'clock the tramp went down to the lake and looked for
Andy's boat.
There was but one in sight—Conrad's—but he never doubted that this was the one he was to destroy. He waited till half-past eight, when he considered it dark enough for his purpose.
He carefully laid the shavings in one end of the boat, covered them over with pieces of board, which, with the help of the hatchet, he split into smaller pieces, and then set them on fire.
The flames blazed fiercely and did considerable damage to the boat, not ruining it, however. But to finish the work he used the hatchet, and hacked vigorously at the woodwork till it was mutilated and its usefulness and beauty spoiled.
The tramp contemplated this work with satisfaction.
"I've done the job pretty well," he chuckled to himself. "I'd like to be lookin' on when the boy sees it."
Now that he had done the job he wanted his pay. Conrad had agreed to meet him at an old ruined barn not far from his house at eight o'clock in the morning.
"It won't do to call for me earlier," he said, "for it might excite suspicion."
From the breakfast table Conrad directed his steps to the barn.
The tramp was sitting outside, smoking a pipe.
"I've been waiting for you," he said. "I haven't had any breakfast."
"Did you do the job?"
"Did I? Well, I reckon. That boat ain't no good any more."
"Do you think any one saw you do it?"
"No; it was pretty dark, and there wasn't no one round. It may have been found out by now. Give me the two dollars and I'll be off."
"You are sure you did the job? You are not deceiving me?"
"No, I'm not. You can go and see for yourself."
This, however, did not seem prudent. Conrad wished some one else to discover the ruined boat.
After all, there was no reason to doubt the tramp's word. His avowed hostility to Andy made it quite certain that he had done his work.
"Here's the money," he said.
"And here's the hatchet."
"I wish it was back in the toolhouse where it belongs," thought Conrad.
"However, I'll manage to get it back without any one seeing me."
He decided to return to the barn at once, carrying the hatchet with him. He was not to do it without observation. Just before he reached the barn he met John Larkin.
"What are you doing with the hatchet, Conrad?"
"Oh, I have been using it in the pasture."
"I didn't know but you were going to imitate George Washington and cut down a cherry tree."
"Perhaps I have," said Conrad, with a smile.
He felt in good humor, for his plan had been carried out. He was aching to see just how badly Andy's boat was injured, and as there was no school, it being Saturday, he proposed to John Larkin to go down to the pond.
"Suppose we have a row, John," he said. "We'll take a trip across the pond."
"All right."
They were perhaps thirty rods from the pond when they met Jimmy Morris, coming from it. He seemed excited. He had been running and was breathless.
"What's the matter, Jimmy?" asked John Larkin.
Jimmy looked toward Conrad, who naturally guessed the cause of his excitement.
"Oh, Conrad," he said. "It is such a pity! I am so sorry for you!"
"Why are you sorry for me?" demanded Conrad, sharply.
"Because your boat is ruined. It is all hacked up, and has been set on fire."
"My boat! You mean Andy Grant's?"
"No, I don't. Come and see for yourself."
CHAPTER XI.
CONRAD'S DISAPPOINTMENT
With his mind in a whirl, and still believing that it was Andy's boat which had been injured instead of his own, Conrad pushed on rapidly toward the pond. Yet he had an instinctive fear that his informant might be correct.
When he reached the point where his boat had been moored, he used his eyes eagerly.
It was all true! His boat—his beautiful boat—with which he had been perfectly satisfied till Andy received a better, was scorched and hacked up till it was clear he could never use it again, and Andy's boat was not visible anywhere. Tears of rage filled Conrad's eyes.
"It is a terrible mistake!" he ejaculated.
"Mistake! What do you mean?" asked John Larkin.
Conrad reflected that his words were betraying him.
"I don't know what I am saying," he replied, vaguely. "Yes, I do. I believe Andy Grant did this."
"Andy Grant!" repeated Jimmy Morris. "Why should he injure your boat?"
"Because he hates me."
"Andy isn't that kind of a boy. Besides, he has a newer and much handsomer boat himself."
There it was! That was what stung Conrad. His boat was second to Andy's.
As the three boys stood on the bank, a small boy, named Peter Hill, came up. He lived in the house nearest the boats.
"Did you see any one near the boat, Peter?" asked John Larkin.
"Yes, I seed a big tramp in de boat. He set it on fire."
"That explains it, Conrad!" exclaimed Jimmy Morris. "I saw the tramp myself in the village."
"Pooh!" said Conrad. "I don't believe it."
"But I seed him burnin' de boat!" persisted little Peter.
"Then why didn't you tell somebody?"
"All de folks was away and I didn't dare to go near it. He had a hatchet, too."
"I say, Conrad, let us hunt for the tramp, and, if we find him, have him arrested."
For obvious reasons this proposal of John Larkin did not meet Conrad's approval. He was afraid of what the tramp would tell.
"I'll ask my father what to do," he replied, evasively. "The mischief is done and there is no help for it."
Conrad was already looking more cheerful. An idea had come to him.
Now that the boat was destroyed, his father might be willing to buy him another, and, if so, he might be persuaded to buy one as good as Andy's, perhaps better. He turned to go home, and let the boys know that he did not care for company.
On the way, not far from his own house, he encountered the tramp. At the sight of this man, whose stupid blunder had cost him his boat, his eyes blazed with anger.
But this the tramp did not see. He slouched up to his young employer, saying, with a cunning grin:
"Well, did you see it?"
"Did I see it?" repeated Conrad, boiling over with fury. "Yes, I did."
"I did it pretty well, didn't I? I guess the boat isn't good for much now."
"You stupid fool!" blazed out Conrad. "It is my boat that you ruined. I have a great mind to have you arrested!"
"Your boat? It was the boat you pointed out to me."
"No, it wasn't. It was my own boat."
"Then where was the other boat? I didn't see but one."
"I don't know, but you might have had sense enough to know that you'd got the wrong boat."
The tramp's hopes fell. He had intended to ask for another dollar from Conrad, but he saw now that there was no chance whatever of his obtaining it.
"You'd better get out of town as soon as you can," said Conrad, roughly.
"Why should I?" demanded the tramp, sullenly.
"Because you were seen destroying the boat."
"Who saw me?"
"A small boy who lives at the next house. You might be arrested."
"If I am, I'll tell the truth. I'll tell who put me up to it."
"And I'll deny it. Do you think any one would believe your word against mine, especially as it was my boat that was ruined?"
The tramp saw the logic of this remark and walked away. He was seen no more in the village.
"Now I'll tackle father," thought Conrad.
He directed his steps homeward and informed the squire of what had happened.
His father frowned and looked displeased.
"If you are not smart enough to take care of your boat," he said, coldly, "you will have to suffer the consequences."
"But I don't see how I am to blame?"
"Have you any idea who did the mischief?"
"Perhaps Andy Grant did—he doesn't like me."
"I don't think that very probable. You can charge him with it if you think best. But I thought you told me he had a new boat of his own?"
"So he has—a perfect beauty! It is ever so much better than mine. I wish—"
"Well, what do you wish?"
"That you would buy me one like his."
"Well, I like that. After losing your boat through your own carelessness, you want me to invest a large sum in another."
"Must I go without one, then?" asked Conrad, in dismay.
"It looks that way."
Conrad resorted to earnest entreaties. He was willing, now, to accept any sort of boat, for he was fond of rowing; but Squire Carter had just heard unfavorable reports from his broker about a speculation he had entered into, and he was inflexible.
"What a fool I was!" reflected Conrad, bitterly. "My boat was a good one, even if it wasn't as fine as Andy's, and now I have none. I shall have to borrow his or Valentine's when I want to go out rowing."
Later in the day he met Andy.
Andy had heard of Conrad's loss and was full of sympathy.
"Conrad," he said, "it's a shame about your boat being destroyed."
"Yes, it is pretty hard."
"The boys say a tramp did the mischief."
"I think it very likely. There was a tramp about town yesterday. I saw him myself."
"What could have been his object? Ruining the boat would not benefit him."
"It might have been out of revenge. He asked me for a quarter and I wouldn't give it to him."
This explanation occurred to Conrad on the spur of the moment.
"Can't you have him arrested?"
"He is probably out of town by this time."
"I suppose you will have a new boat?"
"Yes, after a while."
"I will lend you mine any time you wish."
"Thank you," said Conrad, but he spoke coldly and ungraciously.
It seemed to him humiliating to receive any favors from a poor boy like
Andy Grant.
Two weeks later, when Andy went over to the hotel, as usual, to meet his employer and pupil, Mr. Gale said:
"I have some news for you."
"I hope it is good news."
"I don't know that you will consider it so. I shall have to leave you for a time."
Andy's face fell. This certainly was bad news.
"I have received a letter this morning," continued Walter Gale, "from an uncle living in the interior of Pennsylvania. He is not an old man—I don't think he is much over fifty—but he writes me that he is near his end. The doctor says he may live three months, certainly not over six. He has always been a bachelor, and I believe owns coal mines of considerable value. I was always a favorite of his, and now that he is so sick he wants me to go out and be with him in the closing weeks of his life."
"I suppose you will go?" said Andy, and he looked very sober.
"I think it is my duty—don't you?"
"Yes, I suppose it is your duty."
Andy began to think what he should do. He had had an easy and profitable engagement with Mr. Gale, but this would now be over, and he would have to go back to farm work, or try to get a place in the village store.
The latter would yield him only two dollars and a half a week, which seemed to him very small compared with what he now received.
"I shall miss you very much, Mr. Gale," he said.
"I hope you will. I shall certainly miss you."
"It will seem very dull going to work on the farm after my pleasant days with you."
"You won't need to go to work on the farm, unless you choose to do so."
"But I must earn something; I cannot be idle."
"Oh, I forgot to tell you what arrangements I propose to make for you."
Andy looked up eagerly.
CHAPTER XII.
SOMETHING UNEXPECTED
"Our separation will only be temporary," continued Mr. Gale, "but I do not wish to leave you unprovided for during my absence, I shall allow you five dollars a week while I am away."
Andy brightened up.
"How kind you are, Mr. Gale!" he said. "I don't think you ought to do this."
Walter Gale smiled.
"I can very well afford it," he said; "so we will regard the matter as settled."
"How soon must you go?"
"I shall start to-morrow—my preparations will be easily made. How would you like to go to New York to see me off?"
"I should be delighted," answered Andy. "I have only been to New York twice in my life."
"Then you will enjoy the day. You can take the afternoon train home."
At the farm, Mr. and Mrs. Grant heard with regret of Mr. Gale's departure, but they were pleased to hear that Andy would be in receipt of an income.
"How will you fill up your time, Andy?" asked his father.
"I have my books, and will keep up my Latin and Greek. I will pay you four dollars a week, and you can hire a boy for that to help you. I think I can spend my time more profitably in studying."
"Do you think Mr. Gale will return?"
"He has promised to do so. I am to see him off to-morrow."
"Are you going to trust that boy alone in New York?" asked his Aunt
Jane, with asperity.
"Why, what could happen to me?" asked Andy, indignantly.
"You might get run over."
"I am not a little boy, Aunt Jane. I can take care of myself."
"You may meet with an accident for all your smartness."
"I think Andy is old enough to take care of himself," said his father, mildly.
"Oh, well! have it your own way. You can't say but I've warned you," and she sniffed severely.
"I wonder what makes Aunt Jane so disagreeable," thought Andy.
"Perhaps you'd like to go and take care of him," suggested Mr. Grant, with a smile. "You are old enough to take care of yourself."
"You needn't twit me with my age, Sterling," said Jane, with an injured sniff.
"I don't. Old age is honorable."
This made matters worse.
"You talk as if I was seventy-five. I don't consider myself an old person."
In spite of the melancholy presentiment of Aunt Jane, Andy set out for New York with Mr. Gale. An hour and a half brought them to the metropolis.
"I should like to show you something of the city, Andy," said his companion, "but I shall have to spend the time in shopping."
"I shall see something of the city if I go about with you."
"That is true."
At one o'clock they went to the Sinclair House, on Broadway, to dine. They selected a table where there was but one other guest, who seemed known to Walter Gale.
"Good-morning, Mr. Flint," said the young man.
"Ah, it's you, Walter, is it?" returned the other, a stout man, whose hair was beginning to grow gray.
"Yes."
"I haven't seen you for a long time. Where have you been?"
"Rusticating in a Connecticut town."
"Is the young man with you a brother? But, no; I remember that you have no brother."
"He isn't related to me, but I think as much of him as if he were. His name is Andrew Grant."
"A good name. Is he attending school?"
"He has recently left school."
"If he were seeking a position I could find a place for him."
"In your own employ?"
"Yes. I have a boy, but I don't find him reliable or faithful. He will leave me on Saturday night."
"Andy," said his friend, "how would you like to enter Mr. Flint's employ?"
"Very much," answered Andy, eagerly.
At the same time he wondered what was the nature of Mr. Flint's business.
"Then after dinner we will walk together to Mr. Flint's store in Union
Square."
"There is my card," said Mr. Flint.
Andy received it and read the name:
F. FLINT,
UNION SQUARE
JEWELRY
The two men conversed together, and when dinner was over they walked up Broadway to Fourteenth Street. Turning the left-hand corner, they soon reached a jewelry store of modest appearance, but evidently containing a valuable stock.
A youth with light-brown hair, who seemed to have been born tired, was leaning against the counter. This, doubtless, was the boy who was not satisfactory.
"John," said Mr. Flint, "have you carried the parcel to Forty-eighth
Street?"
"No, sir," answered the boy.
"Why not?"
"I thought it would do just as well after lunch."
"There you are mistaken. Put on your hat at once and go," said his employer, sharply.
"You see," went on Mr. Flint, after the boy had started, "the trouble I have with John. He needs to be looked after continually."
"You won't have that trouble with Andy."
"No, I think not."
Walter Gale accompanied Mr. Flint to the back part of the store, where they held a conversation in a low tone. Presently Walter Gale came back, and signified to Andy that they must be going.
"Mr. Flint will expect you to present yourself for duty on Tuesday morning," he said. "You will reach the store at eight o'clock."
"All right, sir."
On returning to the street, Walter Gale said:
"I propose to take the next train for Philadelphia. You may accompany me to the Cortlandt Street station. Can you find your way from there to the Grand Central Depot?"
"Yes, sir."
"You will get there in time to take the afternoon train back to Arden.
You haven't asked me what salary you are to receive."
"I should like to know, sir."
"Five dollars a week, which is better than is generally paid to a new boy."
"Will it pay my expenses, Mr. Gale?" asked Andy, doubtfully.
"No; but you remember that I promised you five dollars a week. Instead of paying it to you I will give you a note to Mrs. Norris, who keeps a comfortable boarding house on Clinton Place. She knows me well, and will assign you a room, looking to me for payment. That will leave you five dollars a week for your personal expenses, clothing, etc."
"I shall be rich, Mr. Gale, thanks to your kindness."
"Mind, Andy, I am to have you back whenever I want you. Probably I may spend some weeks with my uncle, and during this time you may as well work for Mr. Flint."
"Do you think I shall suit him?" asked Andy, with some anxiety.
"I feel sure of it. You will find him strict in business, but kind and reasonable. I shall expect to hear from you soon after you enter upon your duties. I shall find life pretty dull at my uncle's house, and your letters will bring something of the excitement of the outside world to me."
"I will write you every week, Mr. Gale."
"If it won't be asking too much of you, I shall be glad to have you do so."
Andy crossed the ferry with Mr. Gale, and then returning at once, took the four o'clock train for Arden.
His news created considerable stir at home. All were pleased except Aunt
Jane.
"Brother," she said, "are you going to trust Andy alone in New York?"
"Yes, Jane; he must begin to rely upon himself some time, and he may as well begin now."
"It's temptin' Providence, in my opinion."
"It might be so with some boys, but I have faith in Andy's prudence and good sense."
"He ain't any different from other boys, as you will find."
But in spite of these ominous words Andy made arrangements to leave
Arden on Monday morning. He looked forward eagerly to his new life in
New York.