CHAPTER V – THE WAY OF THE TRANSGRESSOR
Three more miserable lads could not be imagined than our young friends when the train stopped at the station in New Brunswick, and they knew that the total amount of their joint funds was less than a dollar.
No one spoke, but they sat pale, woebegone and staring helplessly at each other, undecided what to do.
The conductor, who was an alert official, said to Billy:
“This is where you get off; come, step lively.”
The lad rose to his feet without a word, and started down the aisle for the door. His companions glanced at him, and, feeling that it would not do for them to separate, also rose by common impulse and followed him out on the platform, where they stood silent and wretched until the train left.
Jimmy McGovern was the first to speak, and it was with the deepest sigh he ever drew:
“Well, boys, what’s to be done?”
“Let’s go back home,” said Billy, “and get the jewelry under the stump, sell that and start over again; I guess we’ll know enough to take care of our money next time.”
“But we haven’t enough to pay our fare,” remarked Tommy.
“We can walk to Jersey City; we’ve got a little money, and we’ll sell a revolver there: that will take one of us to Ashton, and he can get the jewelry.”
It was a most repellent course, and they spent a half-hour in discussing it; but it really seemed that nothing else was possible, and the proceeding was agreed upon.
Few words were spoken as they walked down the slope from the station, made their way to the bridge a short distance below the trestle-work, and walked across to the other side. Inquiry showed them that they had almost thirty miles to walk to Jersey City, and since the forenoon was well advanced, they could not expect to reach their destination before the morrow.
But it was the spring of the year, the weather was mild, and they concluded they could beg something to eat. If the farmers refused them permission to sleep in their houses, they could take refuge in some barn, after the manner of ordinary tramps.
But an unexpected series of adventures was before them.
After crossing the Raritan and walking a short distance, they turned into a stretch of woods, where they sat down to discuss further what ought to be done. With the elastic spirits of childhood, all had rallied somewhat from the extreme depression following the discovery of the loss of their funds. The leader was especially hopeful.
“I don’t know but what it is best this happened,” said he, “for we hadn’t enough money to see us through, and one of us might have to come back after we got to Chicago, and that would have been bad.”
“But we expected to get money there,” said Jimmy.
“I don’t believe it would be as easy as we thought; now I will leave you two in New York, after we reach there, go back to Ashton, get the jewelry and bring it with me. We can sell it for two or three thousand dollars, and we’ll be fixed.”
The others caught the infection of hope and rose to their feet, eager to reach the metropolis as soon as possible.
They were about to resume their journey, when they heard voices near them. Looking around, two frowzy men were observed walking slowly toward them. One was munching a sandwich, while the other had a short black pipe between his teeth.
The reader may not know that the woods, on the northern bank of the Raritan, is the spot where the numerous tramps of New Jersey have their general rendezvous. Several hundred of these nuisances are sometimes gathered there, and they are held in great dread by the neighbors, for they are lazy, thievish, and lawless, and have perpetrated so many outrages that more than one descent has been made upon their camp by the authorities, while the law-abiding citizens have been on the point, at times, of taking severe measure against them.
Unsuspicious of the fact, the boys had approached close to the camp of the tramps.
The two tousled specimens caught sight of the boys at the same moment that the latter discovered them. The one munching a sandwich stopped, stared a second, and then, speaking as well as he could, with his mouth full of food, exclaimed:
“Well, I’ll be shot if this doesn’t beat the bugs!”
“Why, Snakeroot Sam!” called the delighted Tommy Wagstaff, “if this isn’t the luckiest thing that could happen!”
“Where did you come from?” asked that worthy, swallowing what was in his mouth, and indulging in a grin which disclosed a double row of large black teeth. His companion pulled his pipe and looked on in silence.
“Why, didn’t I tell you we was going to start for the West about this time?” asked the happy leader of the little party.
“So you did; I jotted it down in my notebook, but seein’ as how you didn’t give me the percise date, I couldn’t be on hand to wish you good-bye; but what are you doin’ here?”
“We’ve had bad luck,” was the disconsolate reply; “we’ve been robbed of all our money.”
“And are goin’ to hoof it back?”
“That’s what we’ll have to do, but we mean to take a new start.”
“How did this unfortinit misfortune come to overtake ye?”
Tommy gave the history of their mishap, the two tramps listening with much interest.
“This is my friend, Ragged Jim,” said Sam, when the narrative was finished, “and he’s true blue.”
Ragged Jim nodded his head and grunted, without taking the black clay pipe from between his teeth, while Snakeroot Sam munched his sandwich at intervals.
“So you’ve no money with you?”
“Not a dollar,” replied Tommy.
“How ’bout your shootin’ irons?”
“They’re all right; we’ve got a good revolver.”
“Let me look at ’em; I’d like to be sure that they’re the right kind to plug redskins with.”
The boys promptly produced their weapons, and passed them over to Sam, who examined each in turn, and then handed a couple to his companion.
“I obsarve a watch-chain onto ye,” continued Sam; “I hope you aint so dishonorable es to carry a chain without a watch at t’other end to sorter balance it.”
“I’ve got my father’s time-piece with me,” replied Tommy, producing the fine chronometer, and passing it to the tramp, who extended his hand for it.
Sam turned it over in his hand with the same attentive interest he had shown in the case of the revolvers. The single weapon he had shoved in his hip-pocket. He held the timepiece to his ear, listened to its ticking, surveyed the face, and then deliberately slipped it into his trousers pocket, catching the chain in the hole through which he had previously run a ten-penny nail to give his garments the right fit.
“How does that look on me?” he asked, with a grin, of his friend.
“It fits you bootiful,” replied Ragged Jim, “which the same is the case with these weapons and myself.”
“Good-day, sonnies,” said Snakeroot Sam, doffing his dilapidated hat with mock courtesy.
“But,” said the dismayed Tommy, “that’s my watch.”
“Why, sonny, you shouldn’t tell a story; that’s wicked.”
“But it is mine; I want it.”
“Didn’t you just tell me it was your father’s?”
“Yes – but I want it.”
“Give my lovin’ respects to your governor, and tell him when I come his way I’ll stop and pass it over to him.”
With tears in his eyes, Tommy rushed forward as the tramp began moving off, and caught his arm.
“Sam, you must let me have that!”
“What! are you goin’ to commit highway robbery?” he demanded, as if frightened: “do you want it bad?”
“Of course I do, and I mean to get it.”
“All right.”
Snakeroot Sam turned about, seized the boy by the nape of his coat, and delivered a kick which sent sent him several paces and caused him to fall on his face. Then he wheeled as if to serve Jimmy and Billy in the same manner, but they eluded him by running out of the woods to the highway. Ragged Jim stood laughing at the scene, and Sam made again for Tommy; but he had leaped to his feet and hurried after his companions.
“By-by,” called Sam; “when you get that money call on me again and I’ll take charge of it.”
When the three came together in the road, each was crying. Tommy suffered from the pain of his ill-usage, while all were in despair. Neither could say a word to comfort the others, and they tramped wearily along, beginning to feel for the first time that their good fortune had deserted them at last.
Not one would confess it, but he would have given anything at command could he have been safely at home at that moment, with the deeds of the past few days wiped out and undone forever.
The sky, which had been sunshiny in the morning, was now overcast, and they had not gone far when drops of rain began falling.
“We’re going to get wet,” ventured Billy Waylett.
“I don’t care,” replied Tommy, “I can’t feel any worse than I do now.”
A few minutes later a drizzling rain began falling, but, although they passed a house near the road, they did not stop, and kept on until their clothing was saturated. They were cold, chilly, and hungry, for noon had gone and all ate lightly in the morning.
“I’m tired out,” said Billy, at last; “let’s stop yonder and warm ourselves; maybe the folks will give us something to eat.”
The dwelling stood a little way from the road, with which it communicated by means of a lane lined on both sides with tall trees. No one was visible around it, but they turned through the broad gate and hurried through the rain, which was still falling, with its cold, dismal patter, every drop of which seemed to force its way through the clothing to their bodies.
About half the distance was passed when Tommy, who was slightly in advance of his companions, wheeled about and dashed for the highway again.
“There’s a dog coming!” was his exclamation.
The others heard the threatening growl, and descried an immense canine coming down the lane like a runaway steam engine.
Nothing but a hurried flight was left to them, and they ran with the desperation of despair. Billy, being the younger and shorter, was unable to keep up with the others. His dumpy legs worked fast, but he fell behind, and his terrified yells a moment later announced that the dog had overtaken him and was attending to business.
His horrified companions stopped to give what help they could, but the dog, having extracted a goodly piece from Billy’s garments, was satisfied to turn about and trot back to the house to receive the commendation of his master, who was standing on the porch and viewing the proceedings with much complacency.
An examination of Billy, who was still crying, showed that the skin had only been scratched, though his trousers had suffered frightfully. All had received such a scare that they determined to apply to no more houses for relief, even if the rain descended in torrents and they were starving.
And so they tramped wearily onward through the mud and wet, hungry and utterly miserable. It seemed to them that their homes were a thousand miles distant and they would never see them again.
They could not help picturing their warm, comfortable firesides, where their kind parents denied them nothing, and where they had spent so many happy days, with no thought of what they owed those loving ones whom they were treating with such ingratitude.
Tears were in the eyes of all three, and, though they grew so weary that they could hardly drag one foot after the other, they plodded along until the gathering darkness told them night was closing in.
They had met wagons, horsemen, and several persons on foot. From some of the last they made inquiries and learned that, although they had passed through several towns, they were yet south of Rahway. Their hunger became so gnawing that Tommy spent all their money in buying a lot of cakes, which they devoured with the avidity of savages, and felt hungry when none was left to eat.
To the inquiries made of them they returned evasive answers, and when they reached any one of the numerous towns and villages between New Brunswick and the Hudson, they hurried through them and into the open country, where the people viewed them with less curiosity.
When the darkness became so deep that they could not very well see their way, it was necessary to decide where and how they were to spend the night. The drizzling rain was still falling; they were chilled to the bone, and so tired that they could hardly walk.
In the gathering gloom, they observed a barn near the highway, in which they concluded to take refuge, for it was impossible to walk farther, and no better shelter was likely to present itself.
But for the cruel reception received at the first house earlier in the afternoon, they would have asked for charity of some of the neighbors, and doubtless would have received kind treatment, for it would be unjust to describe all the people of that section as unfeeling and heartless.
Had they made their predicament known in any one of the towns, they would have been taken care of until their families could be communicated with; but they were too frightened to think of anything of that nature.
Halting a short way from the barn, Tommy cautiously advanced to make a reconnoissance. He walked timidly around it, but discovered nothing of any person, nor did he hear the growl of a watch-dog. The dwelling-house stood so far off that it was distinguished only by the lights twinkling from within.
When Tommy came to try the main door, however, it was locked, and he feared they were barred out. He persevered, and with a thrill of hope found the stable-door unfastened – a piece of carelessness on the part of the owner, unless he meant to return shortly.
The lad whistled to his companions waiting in the road, and they hurried to his side. Telling them the cheering news, he let them pass in ahead of him, after which he carefully closed the door as it was before.
Then followed several minutes of groping in the dark, during which Jimmy narrowly missed receiving a dangerous kick from one of the horses, and at last the hay-mow was located. With considerable labor they crawled to the top, covered their shivering bodies as best they could, and, nestling close together, to secure what warmth they could, sank almost immediately into deep slumber.
They were so utterly worn out that neither opened his eyes until the sun was above the horizon. The storm had cleared away, the air was cool, and though their bodies were stiffened and half-famished, they were in better spirits than when they clambered into the refuge.
When all had fully awakened and rubbed their eyes, they sat for a moment or two on the hay, considering what could be done.
“I’m so hungry,” said Billy Waylett, “that I feel as though I could eat this hay.”
“And I’ll chew some of the meal if we can’t do any better,” added Jim.
“Both of you together aint half as hungry as I am,” said Tommy, “and I’m going to the house to ask for something to eat.”
“Maybe they’ve got a dog,” suggested Billy, with a shudder.
“I don’t care if they have; I’ll kill and eat him.”
From this it will be seen that the young Indian slayers were in a sorry plight indeed.
“You fellers stay here,” said Tommy, “while I fix things, and then I’ll send for you; I’m bound to do something or die, for I can’t stand this any longer – ”
Just then the barn door opened, and several persons entered.
“I think we’ll find them in here,” remarked one; “they couldn’t have traveled much farther.”
“But I don’t see how the young rascals could get in my barn.”
“We’ll take a look through that haymow.”
And the next minute the head and shoulders of a burly man rose to view, and the runaways were discovered.
CHAPTER VI – SOWING SEED
Two men remained standing on the floor below, and the one who climbed the hay-mow was Hungerford, Chief of Police of Ashton. He had struck the trail of the runaways in Jersey City, and when he learned of three boys that had left the train at New Brunswick, he was certain they were the young rogues whom he was looking for.
He hired a horse and wagon in the city, secured the help and guidance of an officer well acquainted with the country, and by judicious inquiry retained the trail. He was so far behind the boys, however, that it was growing dark when he was only half a dozen miles out of the city, and he was obliged to put up for the night.
He was at it again before daylight, and the couple used their wits with such effect that before long they fixed upon the barn where the boys had taken refuge. An examination of the road and damp earth revealed the tell-tale footprints, and they applied to the farmer for his aid in searching the barn.
That gentleman was surprised to find he had forgotten to lock the stable-door, but such was the fact, and a brief search brought the runaways to light.
When they recognized the chief of police, they broke down and cried so pitifully that the heart of the officer was touched. He cheered them as best he could, and after they were taken to the house, given a warm breakfast and their clothing was dried, they felt, as may be said, like giants refreshed with new wine.
All were eager to be taken home. They had had enough of adventure, and were willing to face any punishment awaiting them, if they could only see Ashton again. Mr. Hungerford was confident that the three would receive the chastisement they merited, but he gave no hint of his belief, and prepared to take them thither.
He paid the farmer for the meal, and then decided to drive back to New Brunswick, and make the real start from that point.
He had learned of the robbery the boys suffered, and he was determined to recover the valuable watch of Mr. Wagstaff from thieving Snakeroot Sam. His brother officer offered to give him all the help possible, though he warned him that the task would be both difficult and dangerous, because of the large number of vicious tramps in that section.
The first thing done, upon reaching New Brunswick, was to telegraph to Mr. Wagstaff that the runaways were found, with no harm having befallen them, and they might be expected home that evening. Then, leaving the boys by themselves, the officers set out for the tramp rendezvous, where better fortune than they anticipated awaited them.
Snakeroot Sam was well known to the New Brunswick officer, and they were fortunate enough to come upon him in the highway, where he had no companions. He was collared before he suspected their business, and the watch and chain were found on his person. Inasmuch as it would have involved considerable delay to bring the scamp to trial and conviction, besides getting the names of the runaways in the papers, Chief Hungerford took his satisfaction out of the tramp personally. The kick administered to Tommy Wagstaff was repaid with interest. Indeed, there is reason to believe that Sam felt the effects throughout most of the following summer. Certain it is that he never received such a shaking up in his life.
Just as it was growing dark, the boys arrived in Ashton and were at their respective homes to supper.
And then and there was made a mistake, so serious in its nature and so far-reaching in its consequences that it forms the basis of the narrative recorded in the following pages.
It will be remembered that each father concerned declared that, upon their return home, the boys should receive severe punishment for their flagrant offenses. Such was their resolve, and yet only one of the gentlemen carried it out.
Mr. Wagstaff and his wife were so grateful for the restoration of their son that they accepted his promise to be a better boy, and, after a mild reproof, he was restored to their grace and favor.
It was the same with the parents of Jimmy McGovern. He professed great contrition for his wrong-doing, and several days were devoted to a consideration of the matter, when he, too, was allowed to escape all punishment.
Billy Waylett, the youngest and least guilty, was the only one who suffered at the hands of his father. The latter loved his child as much as any parent could, and he felt more pain in inflicting the chastisement than did the lad in receiving it. But it was given from a sense of duty, and, as is always and invariably the case, the boy respected his parent for what he did. He knew he deserved it, and that it was meant for his own good.
What was the consequence? It marked a turning-point in the life of the lad. He comprehended, as never before, his narrow escape from disgrace and ruin, and from that time forward became obedient, studious, and pure in thoughts, words, and deeds. He gave his parents and teachers no trouble, and developed into a worthy young man, who became the pride and happiness of his relatives.
Tommy and Jimmy chuckled together many times over their good fortune. They saw how indulgent their parents were, and enjoyed the mock heroism which attended a full knowledge of their exploit.
They did not give up their hopes of a life of adventure, and became dissatisfied with the dull humdrum routine of Ashton. They were content, however, to bide their time, and to wait till they became older before carrying out the projects formed years before. The seed unwittingly sown by their thoughtless parents was sure to bring its harvest sooner or later.
Two years after the runaway incidents the parents of Tommy Wagstaff and Jimmy McGovern removed to the city of New York, and in that great metropolis the boys were not long in finding bad associates. The preliminary steps were taken in their education which eventuated in the incidents that follow.