CHAPTER XVI THE CHRISTMAS PRESENT
Godfrey didn't return to school at all. He fancied that it would be more aristocratic to go to a boarding school, and, his mother concurring in this view, he was entered as a scholar at the Melville Academy, situated in Melville, twelve miles distant. Once a fortnight he came home to spend the Sunday. On these occasions he flourished about with a tiny cane, and put on more airs than ever. No one missed him much, outside of his own family. Andy found the school considerably more agreeable after his departure.
We will now suppose twelve months to have passed. During this time Andy has grown considerably, and is now quite a stout boy. He has improved also in education. The Misses Grant, taking a kind interest in his progress, managed to spare him half the day in succeeding terms, so that he continued to attend school. Knowing that he had but three hours to learn, when the others had six, he was all the more diligent, and was quite up to the average standard for boys of his age. The fact is, Andy was an observing boy, and he realized that education was essential to success in life. Mr. Stone, before going away, talked with him on this subject and gave him some advice, which Andy determined to follow.
As may be inferred from what I have said, Andy was still working for the Misses Grant. He had grown accustomed to their ways, and succeeded in giving them perfect satisfaction, and accomplished quite as much work as John, his predecessor, though the latter was a man.
As Christmas approached, Miss Priscilla said one day to her sister:
"Don't you think, Sophia, it would be well to give Andrew a Christmas present?"
"Just so," returned Sophia, approvingly.
"He has been very faithful and obliging all the time he has been with us."
"Just so."
"I have been thinking what would be a good thing to give him."
"A pair of spectacles," suggested Sophia, rather absent-mindedly.
"Sophia, you are a goose."
"Just so," acquiesced her sister, meekly.
"Such a gift would be very inappropriate."
"Just so."
"A pair of boots," was the next suggestion.
"That would be better. Boots would be very useful, but I think it would be well to give him something that would contribute to his amusement. Of course, we must consult his taste, and not out own. We are not boys."
"Just so," said Sophia, promptly. "And he is not a lady," she added, enlarging upon the idea.
"Of course not. Now, the question is, what do boys like?"
"Just so," said Sophia, but this admission did not throw much light upon the character of the present to be bought.
Just then Andy himself helped them to a decision. He entered, cap in hand, and said:
"If you can spare me, Miss Grant, I would like to go skating on the pond."
"Have you a pair of skates, Andrew?"
"No, ma'am," said Andy; "but one of the boys will lend me a pair."
"Yes, Andrew; you can go, if you will be home early."
"Yes, ma'am—thank you."
As he went out, Miss Priscilla said:
"I have it."
"What?" asked Sophia, alarmed.
"I mean that I have found out what to give to Andrew."
"What is it?"
"A pair of skates."
"Just so," said Sophia. "He will like them."
"So I think. Suppose we go to the store while he is away, and buy him a pair."
"Won't he need to try them on?" asked her sister.
"No," said Priscilla. "They don't need to fit as exactly as boots."
So the two sisters made their way to the village store, and asked to look at their stock of skates.
"Are you going to skate, Miss Priscilla?" asked the shopkeeper, jocosely.
"No; they are for Sophia," answered Priscilla, who could joke occasionally.
"Oh, Priscilla," answered the matter-of-fact Sophia, "you didn't tell me about that. I am sure I could not skate. You said they were for Andrew."
"Sophia, you are a goose."
"Just so."
"It was only a joke."
"Just so."
The ladies, who never did things by halves, selected the best pair in the store, and paid for them. When Andy had returned from skating, Priscilla said: "How did you like the skating, Andrew?"
"It was bully," said Andrew, enthusiastically.
"Whose skates did you borrow?"
"Alfred Parker's. They were too small for me, but I made them do."
"I should suppose you would like to have a pair of your own."
"So I should, but I can't afford to buy a pair, just yet.
"I'll tell you what I want to do, and maybe you'll help me about buyin' it."
"What is it, Andrew?"
"You know Christmas is comin', ma'am, and I want to buy my mother a nice dress for a Christmas present—not a calico one, but a thick one for winter."
"Alpaca or de laine?"
"I expect so; I don't know the name of what I want, but you do. How much would it cost?"
"I think you could get a good de laine for fifty cents a yard. I saw some at the store this afternoon."
"And about how many yards would be wanted, ma'am?"
"About twelve, I should think."
"Then it would be six dollars."
"Just so," said Sophia, who thought it about time she took part in the conversation.
"I've got the money, ma'am, and I'll give it to you, if you and Miss Sophia will be kind enough to buy it for me."
"To be sure we will, Andrew," said Priscilla, kindly. "I am glad you are such a good son."
"Just so, Andrew."
"You see," said Andy, "mother won't buy anything for herself. She always wants to buy things for Mary and me. She wants us to be well-dressed, but she goes with the same old clothes. So I want her to have a new dress."
"You want her to have it at Christmas, then?"
"Yes, ma'am, if it won't be too much trouble."
"That is in two days. To-morrow, Sophia and I will buy the dress."
"Thank you. Here's the money," and Andy counted out six dollars in bills, of which Miss Priscilla took charge.
The next day they fulfilled their commission, and purchased a fine dress pattern at the village store. It cost rather more than six dollars, but this they paid out of their own pockets, and did not report to Andy. Just after supper, as he was about to go home to spend Christmas Eve, they placed the bundle in his hands.
"Isn't it beautiful!" he exclaimed, with delight. "Won't mother be glad to get it?"
"She'll think she has a good son, Andrew."
"Shure, I ought to be good to her, for she's a jewel of a mother."
"That is right, Andrew. I always like to hear a boy speak well of his mother. It is a great pleasure to a mother to have a good son."
"Shure, ma'am," said Andy, with more kindness of heart than discretion, "I hope you'll have one yourself."
"Just so," said Sophia, with the forced habit upon her.
"Sophia, you are a goose!" said Priscilla, blushing a little.
"Just so, Priscilla."
"We are too old to marry, Andrew," said Priscilla; "but we thank you for your wish."
"Shure, ma'am, you are only in the prime of life."
"Just so," said Sophia, brightening up.
"I shall be sixty next spring. That can hardly be in the prime of life."
"I was readin' of a lady that got married at seventy-nine, ma'am."
"Just so," said Sophia, eagerly.
Miss Priscilla did not care to pursue the subject.
"We have thought of you," she continued, "and, as you have been very obliging, we have bought you a Christmas present. Here it is."
Andy no sooner saw the skates than his face brightened up with the most evident satisfaction.
"It's just what I wanted," he said, joyfully. "They're regular beauties! I'm ever so much obliged to you."
"Sophia wanted to get you a pair of spectacles, but I thought these would suit you better."
Andy went off into a fit of laughter at the idea, in which both the ladies joined him. Then, after thanking them again, he hurried home, hardly knowing which gave him greater pleasure, his own present, or his mother's.
I will not stop to describe Andy's Christmas, for this is only a retrospect, but carry my reader forward to the next September, when Andy met with an adventure, which eventually had a considerable effect upon his fortunes.
CHAPTER XVII INTRODUCES AN ADVENTURER
Colonel Preston, as I have already said, was a rich man. He owned no real estate in the town of Crampton, except the house in which he lived. His property was chiefly in stocks of different kinds. Included in these was a considerable amount of stock in a woolen manufacturing establishment, situated in Melville, some twelve miles distant. Dividends upon these were paid semi-annually, on the first of April and October. It was the custom of Colonel Preston at these dates to drive over to Melville, receive his dividends, and then drive back again.
Now, unfortunately for the welfare of the community, there are some persons who, unwilling to make a living by honest industry, prefer to possess themselves unlawfully of means to maintain their unprofitable lives. Among them was a certain black-whiskered individual, who, finding himself too well known in New York, had sought the country, ready for any stroke of business which might offer in his particular line. Chance led his steps to Melville, where he put up at the village inn. He began at once to institute inquiries, the answers to which might serve his purpose, and to avert suspicion, casually mentioned that he was a capitalist, and thought of settling down in the town. As he was well dressed, and had a plausible manner, this statement was not doubted.
Among other things, he made inquiries in regard to the manufactory, what dividends it paid, and when. Expressing himself desirous of purchasing some stock, he inquired the names of the principal owners of the stock. First among them was mentioned Colonel Preston.
"Perhaps he might sell some stocks," suggested the landlord.
"Where can I see him?" asked James Fairfax, for this was the name assumed by the adventurer.
"You can see him here," answered the landlord, "in a day or two. He will be here the first of the month to receive his dividends."
"Will he stop with you?"
"Probably. He generally dines with me when he comes over."
"Will you introduce me?"
"With pleasure."
Mr. Fairfax appeared to hear this with satisfaction, and said that he would make Colonel Preston an offer for a part of his stock.
"Most of my property is invested in real estate in New York," he said; "but I should like to have some manufacturing stock; and, from what you tell me, I think favorably of the Melville Mills."
"We should be glad to have you settle down among us," said the landlord.
"I shall probably do so," said Fairfax. "I am very much pleased with your town and people."
In due time Colonel Preston drove over. As usual, he put up at the hotel.
"Colonel," said the landlord, "there's a gentleman stopping with me who desires an introduction to you."
"Indeed! What is his name?"
"James Fairfax."
"Is he from this neighborhood?"
"No; from the city of New York."
"I shall be happy to make his acquaintance," said the colonel, courteously; "but it must be after I return from the mills. I shall be there a couple of hours, probably. We are to have a directorial meeting."
"I will tell him."
Colonel Preston attended the directors' meeting, and also collected his dividend, amounting to eight hundred dollars. These, in eight one-hundred-dollar bills, he put in his pocketbook, and returned to the hotel for dinner.
"Dinner is not quite ready, colonel," said the landlord. "It will be ready in fifteen minutes."
"Where is the gentleman who wished to be introduced to me?" asked Colonel Preston, who thought it would save time to be introduced now.
"I will speak to him."
He went directly to a dark-complexioned man with black whiskers, and eyes that were rather sinister in appearance. The eyes oftenest betray the real character of a man, where all other signs fail. But Colonel Preston was not a keen observer, nor was he skilled in physiognomy, and, judging of Mr. Fairfax by his manner merely, was rather pleased with him.
"You will pardon my obtruding myself upon you, Colonel Preston," said the stranger, with great ease of manner.
"I am happy to make your acquaintance, sir."
"I am a stranger in this neighborhood. The city of New York is my home. I have been led here by the recommendations of friends who knew that I desired to locate myself in the country."
"How do you like Melville?"
"Very much—so much, that I may settle down here. But, Colonel Preston, I am a man of business, and if I am to be here, I want some local interest—some stake in the town itself."
"Quite natural, sir."
"You are a business man yourself, and will understand me. Now, to come to the point, I find you have a manufactory here—a woolen manufactory, which I am given to understand is prosperous and profitable."
"You are correctly informed, Mr. Fairfax. It is paying twelve per cent. dividends, and has done so for several years."
"That is excellent. It is a better rate than I get for most of my city investments."
"I also have city investments—bank stocks, and horse-railroad stocks, but, as you say, my mill stock pays me better than the majority of these."
"You are a large owner of the mill stock; are you not, Colonel Preston?"
"Yes, sir; the largest, I believe."
"So I am informed. Would you be willing to part with any of it?"
"I have never thought of doing so. I am afraid I could not replace it with any other that would be satisfactory."
"I don't blame you, of course, but it occurred to me that, having a considerable amount, you might be willing to sell."
"I generally hold on to good stock when I get possession of it.
Indeed, I would buy more, if there were any in the market."
"He must have surplus funds," thought the adventurer. "I must see if I can't manage to get some into my possession."
Here the landlord appeared, and announced that dinner was ready.
"You dine here, then?" said Fairfax.
"Yes; it will take me two hours to reach home, so I am obliged to dine here."
"We shall dine together, it seems. I am glad of it, as at present I happen to be the only permanent guest at the hotel. May I ask where you live?"
"In Crampton."
"I have heard favorably of it, and have been intending to come over and see the place, but the fact is, I am used only to the city, and your country roads are so blind, that I have been afraid of losing my way."
"Won't you ride over with me this afternoon, Mr. Fairfax? I can't bring you back, but you are quite welcome to a seat in my chaise one way."
The eyes of the adventurer sparkled at the invitation. Colonel Preston had fallen into the trap he had laid for him, but he thought it best not to accept too eagerly.
"You are certainly very kind, Colonel Preston," he answered, with affected hesitation, "but I am afraid I shall be troubling you too much."
"No trouble whatever," said Colonel Preston, heartily. "It is a lonely ride, and I shall be glad of a companion."
"A lonely ride, is it?" thought Fairfax. "All the better for my purpose. It shall not be my fault if I do not come back with my pockets well lined. The dividends you have just collected will be better in my pockets than in yours."
This was what he thought, but he said:
"Then I will accept with pleasure. I suppose I can easily engage someone to bring me back to Melville?"
"Oh, yes; we have a livery stable, where you can easily obtain a horse and driver."
The dinner proceeded, and Fairfax made himself unusually social and agreeable, so that Colonel Preston congratulated himself on the prospect of beguiling the loneliness of the way in such pleasant company. Fairfax spoke of stocks with such apparent knowledge that the colonel imagined him to be a gentleman of large property. It is not surprising that he was deceived, for the adventurer really understood the subject of which he spoke, having been for several years a clerk in a broker's counting-room in Wall Street. The loss of his situation was occasioned by his abstraction of some securities, part of which he had disposed of before he was detected. He was, in consequence, tried and sentenced to three years' imprisonment. At the end of this period he was released, with no further taste for an honest life, and had since allied himself to the class who thrive by preying upon the community.
This was the man whom Colonel Preston proposed to take as his companion on his otherwise lonely ride home.
CHAPTER XVIII RIDING WITH A HIGHWAYMAN
"Get into the chaise, Mr. Fairfax," said Colonel Preston.
"Thank you," said the adventurer, and accepted the invitation.
"Now we are off," said the colonel, as he took the reins, and touched the horse lightly with the whip.
"Is the road a pleasant one?" inquired Fairfax.
"The latter part is rather lonely. For a mile it runs through the woods—still, on a summer day, that is rather pleasant than otherwise. In the evening, it is not so agreeable."
"No, I suppose not," said Fairfax, rather absently.
Colonel Preston would have been startled could he have read the thoughts that were passing through the mind of his companion. Could he have known his sinister designs, he would scarcely have sat at his side, chatting so easily and indifferently.
"I will postpone my plan till we get to that part of the road he speaks of," thought Fairfax. "It would not do for me to be interrupted."
"I suppose it is quite safe traveling anywhere on the road," remarked the adventurer.
"Oh, yes," said Colonel Preston, with a laugh. "Thieves and highway robbers do not pay us the compliment of visiting our neighborhood. They keep in the large cities, or in places that will better reward their efforts."
"Precisely," said Fairfax; "I am glad to hear it, for I carry a considerable amount of money about me."
"So do I, to-day. This is the day for payment of mill dividends, and as I have occasion to use the money, I did not deposit it."
"Good," said Fairfax, to himself. "That is what I wanted to find out."
Aloud he said:
"Oh, well, there are two of us, so it would be a bold highwayman that would venture to attack us. Do you carry a pistol?"
"Not I," said Colonel Preston. "I don't like the idea of carrying firearms about with me. They might go off by mistake. I was reading in a daily paper, recently, of a case where a man accidentally shot his son with the pistol he was in the habit of carrying about with him."
"There is that disadvantage, to be sure," said Fairfax. "So, he has no pistol. He is quite in my power," he said to himself. "It's a good thing to know."
"By the way," he asked, merely to keep up the conversation, "are you a family man, Colonel Preston?"
"Yes, sir; I have a wife, and a son of fifteen."
"You have the advantage of me in that respect. I have always been devoted to business, and have had no time for matrimony."
"Time enough yet, Mr. Fairfax."
"Oh, yes, I suppose so."
"If you are going to settle down in our neighborhood, I can introduce you to some of our marriageable young ladies," said Colonel Preston, pleasantly.
"Thank you," said Fairfax; in the same tone. "I may avail myself of your offer."
"Won't you take supper at my home this evening?" said the colonel, hospitably. "I shall be glad to introduce Mrs. Preston. My son is at boarding school, so I shall not be able to let you see him."
"Have you but one child, then?"
"But one. His absence leaves us alone."
Godfrey's absence would have been lamented more by his father, had his character and disposition been different. But he was so arrogant and overbearing in his manners, and so selfish, that his father hoped that association with other boys would cure him in part of these objectionable traits. At home, he was so much indulged by his mother, who could see no fault in him, as long as he did not oppose her, that there was little chance of amendment.
So they rode on, conversing on various topics, but their conversation was not of sufficient importance for me to report. At length they entered on a portion of the road lined on either side by a natural forest. Fairfax looked about him.
"I suppose, Colonel Preston, these are the woods you referred to?"
"Yes, sir."
"How far do they extend?"
"About a mile."
They had traversed about half a mile, when Fairfax said:
"If you don't object, Colonel Preston, I will step out a moment. There's a tree with a peculiar leaf. I would like to examine it nearer to."
"Certainly, Mr. Fairfax," said the colonel, though he wondered what tree it could be, for he saw no tree of an unusual character.
The chaise stopped and Fairfax jumped off. But he seemed to have forgotten the object of dismounting. Instead of examining the foliage of a tree, he stepped to the horse's head, and seized him by the bridle.
"What are you going to do, Mr. Fairfax?" asked Colonel Preston, in surprise.
By this time Fairfax had withdrawn a pistol from his inside pocket, and deliberately pointed it at his companion.
"Good heavens! Mr. Fairfax, what do you mean?"
"Colonel Preston," said the adventurer, "I want all the money you have about you. I know you have a considerable sum, for you have yourself acknowledged it."
"Why," exclaimed Colonel Preston, startled, "this is highway robbery."
"Precisely!" said Fairfax, bowing mockingly. "You have had the honor of riding with a highwayman. Will you be good enough to give me the money at once? I am in haste."
"Surely, this is a joke, Mr. Fairfax. I have heard of such practical jokes before. You are testing my courage. I am not in the least frightened. Jump in the chaise again, and we will proceed."
"That's a very kind way of putting it," said Fairfax, coolly; "but not correct. I am no counterfeit, but the genuine article. Fairfax is not my name. I won't tell you what it is, for it might be inconvenient."
No man can look with equanimity upon the prospect of losing money, and Colonel Preston may be excused for not wishing to part with his eight hundred dollars. But how could he escape? He had no pistol, and Fairfax held the horse's bridle in a strong grasp. If he could only parley with him till some carriage should come up, he might save his money. It seemed the only way, and he resolved to try it.
"Mr. Fairfax," he said, "if you are really what you represent, I hope you will consider the natural end of such a career. Turn, I entreat you, to a more honest course of life."
"That may come some time," said Fairfax; "but at present my necessities are too great. Oblige me by producing your pocketbook."
"I will give you one hundred dollars, and keep the matter a secret from all. That will be better than to expose yourself to the penalty of the law."
"Colonel Preston, a hundred dollars will not satisfy me. You have eight hundred dollars with you, and I shall not leave this spot till it is transferred to my possession."
"If I refuse?"
"You will subject me to the unpleasant alternative of blowing your brains out," said the other, coolly.
"You surely would not be guilty of such a crime, Mr. Fairfax?" said Colonel Preston, with a shudder.
"I would rather not. I have no desire to take your life, but I must have that money. If you prefer to keep your money, you will compel me to the act. You'll gain nothing, for in that case I shall take both—your life first, and your money afterward."
"And this is the man with whom I dined, and with whom, a few moments since, I was conversing freely!" thought Colonel Preston.
The adventurer became impatient.
"Colonel Preston," he said, abruptly, "produce that money instantly, or I will fire."
There was no alternative. With reluctant hand the colonel drew out his pocketbook, and was about to hand it with its contents to the highwayman, when there was a sudden crash in the bushes behind Fairfax, his pistol was dashed from his hand, and our young hero, Andy Burke, with resolute face, stood with his gun leveled at him. All happened so quickly that both Colonel Preston and Fairfax were taken by surprise, and the latter, still retaining his hold upon the bridle, stared at the young hero, who had so intrepidly come between him and his intended victim.
With an oath he stopped, and was about to pick up the pistol which had fallen from his hands, but was arrested by the quick, decisive tones of Andy:
"Let that pistol alone! If you pick it up, I will shoot you on the spot."