Alger Horatio Jr.
Bound to Rise; Or, Up the Ladder
CHAPTER XXIV. HARRY'S LETTER
During Harry's absence, the little household at Granton had got along about as usual. They lived from hand to mouth. It required sharp financiering to provide food and clothes for the little family.
There was one neighbor who watched their progress sharply and this was Squire Green. It will be remembered that he had bound Mr. Walton to forfeit ten dollars, if, at the end of six months, he was not prepared to pay the forty dollars and interest which he had agreed to pay for the cow. It is a proof of the man's intense meanness that, though rich while his neighbor was poor, he was strongly in hopes that the latter would incur the forfeit and be compelled to pay it.
One morning Squire Green accosted Mr. Walton, the squire being at work in his own front yard.
"Good morning, neighbor Walton," he said.
"Good morning, squire."
"How is that cow a-doin'?"
"Pretty well."
"She's a good cow."
"Not so good as the one I lost."
"You're jokin' now, neighbor. It was my best cow. I wouldn't have sold her except to obleege."
"She doesn't give as much milk as my old one."
"Sho! I guess you don't feed her as well as I did."
"She fares just as well as the other one did. Of course, I don't know how you fed her."
"She allers had her fill when she was with me. Le' me see, how long is it since I sold her to ye?"
Though the squire apparently asked for information, he knew the time to a day and was not likely to forget.
"It's between four and five months, I believe."
"Jus'so. You was to be ready to pay up at the end of six months."
"That was the agreement."
"You'd better be a-savin' up for it."
"There isn't much chance of my saving. It's all I can do to make both ends meet."
"You don't say so," said the squire, secretly pleased.
"My farm is small and poor, and doesn't yield much."
"But you work out, don't you?"
"When I get a chance. You don't want any help, do you, squire? I might work off part of the debt that way."
"Mebbe next spring I'd like some help."
"That will be too late to meet my note, unless you'll renew."
"I'll see about it," said the squire, evasively. "What do you hear from that boy of yours? Is he doin' well?"
"He's at work in a shoe shop."
"Does it pay well?"
"He doesn't get much just at first."
"Then he won't be able to pay for the cow," thought the squire. "That's what I wanted to know."
"He'd better have gone to work for me," he said
"No, I think he will do better away from home. He will get a good trade that he can fall back upon hereafter, even if he follows some other business."
"Wal, I never learned no trade but I've got along middlin' well," said the squire, in a complacent tone. "Farmin's good enough for me."
"I would say the same if I had your farm, squire. You wouldn't exchange, would you?"
"That's a good joke, neighbor Walton. When I make up my mind to do it. I'll let you know."
"What a mean old curmudgeon he is!" thought Hiram Walton, as he kept on his way to the village store. "He evidently intends to keep me to my agreement and will exact the ten dollars in case I can't pay for the cow at the appointed time. It will be nothing but a robbery."
This was not the day for a letter from Harry but it occurred to Mr. Walton to call at the post office. Contrary to his anticipations, a letter was handed him.
"I won't open it till I get home," he said to himself.
"I've got a letter from Harry," he said, as he entered the house.
"A letter from Harry? It isn't his day for writing," said Mrs. Walton. "What does he say?"
"I haven't opened the letter yet. Here, Tom, open and read it aloud."
Tom opened the letter and read as follows:
"Dear Father:—I must tell you, to begin with, that I have been compelled to stop work in the shoe shop. The market is overstocked and trade has become very dull.
"Of course, I felt quite bad when Mr. Leavitt told me this, for I feared it would prevent my helping you pay for the cow, as I want so much to do. I went round to several other shops, hoping to get in, but I found it impossible. Still, I have succeeded in getting something to do that will pay me better than work in the shop. If you were to guess all day, I don't believe you would guess what business it is. So, to relieve your suspense, I will tell you that I have engaged as assistant to Professor Henderson, the famous magician and ventriloquist and am to start to-morrow on a tour with him."
"Assistant to a magician!" exclaimed Mrs. Walton
"What does the boy know about magic?"
"It's a bully business," said Tom, enthusiastically. "I only wish I was in Harry's shoes. I'd like to travel round with a magician first-rate."
"You're too thick-headed, Tom," said Marry.
"Shut up!" said Tom. "I guess I'm as smart as you, any day."
"Be quiet, both of you!" said Mr. Walton. "Now, Tom, go on with your brother's letter."
Tom proceeded: "I am to take money at the door. We are going about in the southern part of the State and shall visit some towns in Massachusetts, the professor says. You know I've never been round any and I shall like traveling and seeing new places. Professor Henderson is very kind and I think I shall like him. He pays my traveling expenses and five dollars a week, which is nearly twice as much money as I got from Mr. Leavitt. I can't help thinking I am lucky in getting so good a chance only a day after I lost my place in the shoe shop. I hope, yet, to be able to pay for the cow when the money comes due.
"Love to all at home.
"Harry."
"Harry's lucky," said Mary. "He can get along."
"He is fortunate to find employment at once," said his father; "though something which he can follow steadily is better. But the pay is good and I am glad he has it."
"How long it seems since Harry was at home," said his mother. "I wish I could see him."
"Yes, it would be pleasant," said Mr. Walton; "but the boy has his own way to make, so we will be thankful that he is succeeding so well."
CHAPTER XXV. A STRANGE COMPANION
At ten o'clock the next day, Harry presented himself at the hotel. He carried in his hand a carpetbag lent him by Mr. Leavitt, which contained his small stock of under-clothing. His outside suits he left at Mr. Leavitt's, not wishing to be encumbered with them while traveling.
"I see you are on time," said the professor.
"Yes, sir; I always mean to be."
"That's well; now if you'll jump into my buggy with me, we will ride round to the Town Hall and take in my apparatus. I have to keep a carriage," said the magician, as they rode along. "It saves me a great deal of trouble by making me independent of cars and stages."
The apparatus was transferred to a trunk in the back part of the buggy and securely locked.
"Now we are all ready," said Professor Henderson,
"Would you like to drive?"
"Yes, sir," answered Harry, with alacrity.
"I am going to give an entertainment in Holston this evening," said his new employer. "Were you ever there?"
"No, sir."
"It is a smart little place and although the population is not large, I always draw a full house."
"How far is it, sir?"
"About six miles."
Harry was sorry it was not farther, as he enjoyed driving. His companion leaned back at his ease and talked on various subjects. He paused a moment and Harry was startled by hearing a stifled child's voice just behind him: "Oh, let me out! Don't keep me locked up here!"
The reins nearly fell from his hands. He turned and heard the voice apparently proceeding from the trunk.
"What's the matter?" asked Professor Henderson.
"I thought I heard a child's voice."
"So you did," said the voice again.
The truth flashed upon Harry. His companion was exerting some of his powers as a ventriloquist.
"Oh, it is you, sir," he said, smiling.
His companion smiled.
"You are right," he said.
"I don't see how you can do it," said Harry.
"Practice, my boy."
"But practice wouldn't make everybody a ventriloquist, would it?"
"Most persons might become ventriloquists, though in an unequal degree. I often amuse myself by making use of it for playing practical jokes upon people.
"Do you see that old lady ahead?"
"Yes, sir."
"I'll offer her a ride. If she accepts, you'll see sport. I shall make you talk but you must be careful to say nothing yourself."
A few rods farther on, they overtook an old woman.
"Good morning, ma'am," said the professor. "Won't you get in and ride? It's easier riding than walking."
The old women scanned his countenance and answered: "Thank you, sir, I'm obleeged to ye. I don't mind if I do."
She was assisted into the carriage and sat at one end of the seat, Harry being in the middle.
"I was going to see my darter, Nancy," said the old women. "Mrs. Nehemiah Babcock her name is. Mebbe you know her husband."
"I don't think I do," said the professor.
"He's got a brother in Boston in the dry goods business. Mebbe you've been at his store."
"Mebbe I have."
"I ginerally call to see my darter—her name is Nancy—once a week; but it's rather hard for me to walk, now I'm getting' on in years."
"You're most eighty, ain't you?" appeared to proceed from Harry's mouth. Our hero's face twitched and he had hard work to keep from laughing.
"Indeed, I'm not!" said the old lady, indignantly.
"I'm only sixty-seven and folks say I don't look more'n sixty," and the old lady looked angrily at Harry.
"You must excuse him, ma'am," said the professor, soothingly. "He is no judge of a lady's age."
"I should think not, indeed."
"Indeed, madam, you are very young looking."
The old lady was pacified by this compliment but looked askance at Harry.
"Is he your son?"
"No, ma'am."
The old lady sniffed, as if to say, "So much the better for you."
"Are you travelin' far?" asked the old lady.
"What do you want to know for?" Harry appeared to ask.
"You're a sassy boy!" exclaimed the old woman.
"Harry," said Professor Henderson, gravely, "how often have I told you not to be so unmannerly?"
"He orter be whipped," said the old lady. "Ef I had a boy that was so sassy, I'd larn him manners!"
"I'm glad I ain't your boy," Harry appeared to reply.
"I declare I won't ride another step if you let him insult me so," said the old woman, glaring at our hero.
Professor Henderson caught her eye and significantly touched his forehead, giving her to understand that Harry was only "half-witted."
"You don't say so," she ejaculated, taking the hint at once. "How long's he been so?"
"Ever since he was born."
"Ain't you afraid to have him drive?"
"Oh, not at all. He understands horses as well as I do."
"What's his name?"
Before the professor's answer could be heard, Harry appeared to rattle off the extraordinary name: "George Washington Harry Jefferson Ebenezer Popkins."
"My gracious! Has he got all them names?"
"Why not? What have you got to say about it, old women?" said the same voice.
"Oh, I ain't got no objection," said the old woman.
"You may have fifty-'leven names ef you want to."
"I don't interfere with his names," said the professor.
"If he chooses to call himself—"
"George Washington Harry Jefferson Ebenezer Popkins," repeated the voice, with great volubility.
"If he chooses to call himself by all those names, I'm sure I don't care. How far do you go, ma'am?"
"About quarter of a mile farther."
The professor saw that he must proceed to his final joke.
"Let me out! Don't keep me locked up here!" said the child's voice, from behind, in a pleading tone.
"What's that?" asked the startled old lady.
"What's what?" asked the professor, innocently.
"That child that wants to get out."
"You must have dreamed it, my good lady."
"No, there 'tis agin'," said the old lady, excited.
"It's in the trunk behind you," said the assumed voice, appearing to proceed from our hero.
"So 'tis," said the old lady, turning halfway round.
"Oh, I shall die! Let me out! Let me out!"
"He's locked up his little girl in the trunk," Harry seemed to say.
"You wicked man, let her out this minute," said the old lady, very much excited. "Don't you know no better than to lock up a child where she can't get no air?"
"There is no child in the trunk, I assure you," said Professor Henderson, politely.
"Don't you believe him," said Harry's voice.
"Do let me out, father!" implored the child's voice
"If you don't open the trunk, I'll have you took up for murder," said the old lady.
"I will open it to show you are mistaken."
The professor got over the seat, and, opening the trunk, displayed its contents to the astonished old lady.
"I told you that there was no child there," he said; "but you would not believe me."
"Le' me out," gasped the old woman. "I'd rather walk. I never heerd of such strange goin's on afore."
"If you insist upon it, madam, but I'm sorry to lose your company. Take this with you and read it."
He handed her one of his bills, which she put in her pocket, saying she couldn't see to read it.
When they were far enough off to make it safe, Harry gave vent to his mirth, which he had restrained till this at difficulty and laughed long and loud.
CHAPTER XXVI. PAGES FROM THE PAST
"What will the old lady think of you?" said Harry.
"She will have a very bad opinion till she puts on her specs and read the bill. That will explain all. I shouldn't be surprised to see her at my entertainment."
"I wonder if she'll recognize me," said Harry.
"No doubt; as soon as she learns with whom she rode, she'll be very curious to come and see me perform."
"How old were you when you began to be a ventriloquist?"
"I was eighteen. I accidentally made the discovery, and devoted considerable time to perfecting myself in it before acquainting anyone with it. That idea came later. You see when I was twenty-one, with a little property which I inherited from my uncle, I went into business for myself; but I was young and inexperienced in management, and the consequence was, that in about two years I failed. I found it difficult to get employment as a clerk, business being very dull at the time. While uncertain what to do, one of my friends, to whom I had communicated my power, induced me to give me a public entertainment, combining with it a few tricks of magic, which I had been able to pick up from books. I succeeded so well my vocation in life became Professor Henderson."
"It must be great fun to be a ventriloquist."
"So I regarded it at first. It may not be a very high vocation but I make the people laugh and so I regard myself as a public benefactor. Indeed, I once did an essential service to a young man by means of my ventriloquism."
"I should like very much to hear the story."
"I will tell you. One day, a young man, a stranger, came to me and introduced himself under the name of Paul Dabney. He said that I might, if I would, do him a great service. His father had died the year previous, leaving a farm and other property to the value of fifteen thousand dollars. Of course, being as only son, he expected that this would be left to himself, or, at least, the greater part of it. Conceive his surprise, therefore, when the will came to be read, to find that the entire property was left to his Uncle Jonas, his father brother, who, for three years past, had been a member of the family. Jonas had never prospered in life, and his brother, out of pity, had offered him an asylum on his farm. He had formerly been a bookkeeper and was an accomplished penman.
"The will was so extraordinary—since Paul and his father had always been on perfectly good terms—that the young man was thunderstruck. His uncle expressed hypocritical surprise at the nature of the will.
"'I don't believe my father made that will,' exclaimed Paul, angrily.
"'What do you mean by that?' demanded the uncle.
"His anger made Paul think that he had hit upon the truth, particularly as his uncle was an adroit penman.
"He carefully examined the will; but the writing so closely resembled his father's that he could see no difference. The witnesses were his Uncle Jonas and a hired man, who, shortly after witnessing the signature, had been discharged and had disappeared from the neighborhood. All this excited Paul's suspicions.
"His uncle offered him a home on the farm; but positively refused to give him any portion of the property.
"'I sympathize with you,' I said at the conclusion of Paul's story; 'but how can I help you?'
"'I will tell you, sir,' he replied. 'You must know that my Uncle Jonas is very superstitious. I mean, through your help, to play upon his fears and thus induce him to give up the property to me.'
"With this he unfolded his plan and I agreed to help him. His uncle lived ten miles distant. I procured a laborer's disguise and the morning after—Paul having previously gone back—I entered the yard of the farmhouse. The old man was standing outside, smoking a pipe.
"'Can you give me work?' I asked.
"'What kind of work?' inquired Jonas.
"'Farm work,' I answered.
"'How much do you want?'
"'Eight dollars a month.'
"'I'll give you six,' he said.
"'That's too little.'
"'It's the most I'll give you.'
"'Then I'll take,' I replied, and was at once engaged.
"Delighted to get me so cheap, the sordid old man asked me no troublesome questions. I knew enough of farm work to get along pretty well and not betray myself.
"That night I concealed myself in the old man's apartment without arousing his suspicions, Paul helping me. After he had been in bed about twenty minutes, I thought it time to begin. Accordingly I uttered a hollow groan.
"'Eh! What's that?' cried the old man, rising in bed.
"'I am the spirit of your dead brother,' I answered, throwing my voice near the bed.
"'What do you want?' he asked, his teeth chattering.
"'You have cheated Paul out of his property.'
"'Forgive me!' he cried, terror-stricken.
"'Then give him back the property.'
"'The whole?' he groaned.
"'Yes, the whole.'
"'Are—are you really my brother?'
"'I will give you this proof. Unless you do as I order you, in three days you will be with me.'
"'What, dead?' he said, shuddering.
"'Yes,' I answered in sepulchral a tone as possible.
"'Are—are you sure of it?'
"'If you doubt it, disobey me.'
"'I'll do it, but—don't come again.'
"'Be sure you do it then.'
"I ceased to speak, being tired, and escaped as soon as I could. But the battle was not yet over. The next day gave Jonas courage. Afternoon came and he had done nothing. He was with me in the field when I threw a hollow voice, which seemed to be close to his ear. I said, 'Obey, or in three days you die.'
"He turned pale as a sheet and asked me if I heard anything. I expressed surprise and this confirmed him in his belief of the ghostly visitation. He went to the house, sent for a lawyer and transferred the entire property to his nephew. The latter made him a present of a thousand dollars and so the affair ended happily. Paul paid me handsomely for my share in the trick and the next day I made an excuse for leaving the farm."
"Did the old man ever discover your agency in the affair, Professor Henderson?"
"Never. He is dead now and my friend Paul is happily married, and has a fine family. His oldest boy is named after me. But here we are in Holston."
CHAPTER XXVII. A MYSTIFYING PERFORMANCE
The people of Holston turned out in large numbers. Among the first to appear was the old lady whom the professor had taken up on his way over.
"You're the boy that was so sassy to me this mornin'," she said, peering at Harry through her spectacles.
"I didn't say a word to you," said Harry.
"I'm afraid you're tellin' fibs. I heerd you."
"It was the professor. He put the words in my mouth."
"Well, come to think on't the voice was different from yours. Then there wa'n't nobody in the trunk?"
"No, ma'am," said Harry, smiling.
"It's wonderful, I declare for't. This is my darter, Mrs. Nehemiah Babcock," continued the old lady. "Nancy, this is the ventriloquer's boy. I thought he was sassy to me this mornin'; but he says he didn't speak a word. How much is to pay?" said the old lady.
"I won't charge you anything," said Harry. "Professor Henderson told me, if you came to let you in free, and any of your family."
"Really, now, that's very perlite of the professor," said the old lady. "He's a gentleman if ever there was one. Do you hear, Nancy, we can go in without payin' a cent. That's all on, account of your marm's being acquainted with the professor. I'm glad I come."
The old lady and her party entered the hall, and being early, secured good seats. Tom, her grandson, was glad to be so near, as he was ambitious to assist the professor in case volunteers were called for.
"Will any young gentleman come forward and assist me in the next trick?" asked the professor, after a while.
Tom started from his seat. His grandmother tried to seize him by the coat but he was too quick for her.
"Oh, let him go," said his mother. "He won't come to any harm."
"Is this your first appearance as a magician?" asked the professor.
"Yes, sir," answered Tom, with a grin.
"Very good. I will get you to help me, but you mustn't tell anybody how the tricks are done."
"No, sir, I won't."
"As I am going trust you with a little money, I want to ask you whether you are strictly honest."
"Yes, sir."
"I am glad to hear it. Do you see this piece of gold?"
"Yes, sir."
"What is its value?"
"Ten dollars," answered Tom, inspecting it.
"Very good. I want you hold it for me. I give you warning that I mean to make it pass out of you hand."
"I don't think you can do it, sir."
"Well, perhaps not. You look like a pretty sharp customer. It won't be easy to fool you."
"You bet."
"Nancy," whispered the old lady to her daughter. "I hope you don't allow Tom to talk so."
"Look, mother, see want he's going to do."
"What I propose to do," said the professor, "is to make that coin pass into the box on the table. I may not be able to do it, as the young gentleman is on his guard. However, I will try. Presto, change!"
"It didn't go," said Tom. "I've got it here."
"Have you? Suppose you open your hand."
Tom opened his hand.
"Well, what have you got? Is it the gold piece?"
"No sir," said Tom, astonished; "it's a cent."
"Then, sir, all I can say is, you have treated me badly. In order to prevent my getting the gold piece into the box, you changed it into a cent."
"No, I didn't," said Tom.
"Then perhaps I have succeeded, after all. The fact is, I took out the gold piece and put a penny in its place, so that you might not know the difference. Now here is the key of that box. Will you unlock it?"
Tom unlocked it, only to find another box inside. In fact, it was a perfect nest of boxes. In the very last of all was found the gold coin.
"It's very strange you didn't feel it go out of your hand," said the professor.
"I am afraid you are not quick enough to make a magician. Can you fire a pistol?"
"Yes, sir," said Tom.
"Will any lady lend me a ring?" asked the professor.
One was soon found
"I will load the pistol," said the professor, "and put the ring in with the rest of the charge. It appears to be rather too large. I shall have to hammer it down."
He brought down a hammer heavily upon the ring and soon bent it sufficiently to get it into the pistol.
"Now, sir," he said, "take the pistol, and stand off there. All right, sir. When I give the word, I want you to fire. One, two, three!"
Tom fired, his grandmother uttering a half suppressed shriek at the report. When the smoke cleared away, the professor was holding the ring between his thumb and finger, quite uninjured.
Professor Henderson's attention had been drawn to his companion of the morning. He observed that she had taken off her bonnet. He went up to her, and said, politely, "Madam, will you kindly lend me your bonnet?"
"Massy sakes, what do you want of it?"
"I won't injure it, I assure you."
"You may take it, ef you want to," said the old lady; "but be keerful and don't bend it."
"I will be very careful; but, madam," he said, in seeming surprise, "what have you got in it?"
"Nothing, sir."
"You are mistaken. See there, and there, and there"; and he rapidly drew out three onions, four turnips, and a couple of potatoes. "Really, you must have thought you were going to market."
"They ain't mine," gasped the old lady.
"Then it's very strange how they got into your bonnet. And—let me see—here's an egg, too."
"I never see sich doin's."
"Granny, I guess a hen made her nest in your bonnet," whispered Tom.
The old lady shook her head in helpless amazement.
