Alger Horatio Jr.
Julius, The Street Boy
CHAPTER XXV.
JULIUS BECOMES A CAPTIVE
Julius was still wandering about in uncertainty, holding Carrie by the hand, when the Indian came in sight of him. Stealthily creeping up, he seized our hero by the shoulder before he realized that the enemy was upon him. He had no time to draw his pistol, nor did he deem it prudent to do so now, as the Indian could easily wrest it from him, and turn it against him.
“Me got you!” exclaimed the savage, in accents of fierce exultation.
Little Carrie uttered a dismal cry when she looked up and saw that her dreaded captor was near.
“Don’t be frightened, Carrie,” said Julius, soothingly, though, to tell the truth, he felt rather uncomfortable himself.
“What do you want?” he demanded, putting a bold face on.
“Want little girl,” answered the Indian.
“I am taking her home. Her father sent me for her.”
“No matter; no go,” said the Indian, frowning.
“What good will it do you to keep her?” asked Julius, though he suspected argument would be of no avail.
“No matter; come!” said the savage, and he seized Carrie by the hand.
“Oh, Julius, don’t let him carry me off,” said Carrie, beginning to cry.
“We must go, Carrie,” said our hero, in a low voice. “Perhaps he will let us go after a while.”
“But I want to go to mamma!” said the little girl, piteously.
“No go. Mother bad,” said the Indian.
“She isn’t bad,” said Carrie, forgetting her fear in her indignation. “She’s good. You are bad.”
“Hush, Carrie!” said Julius, who foresaw that it would not be prudent to provoke the savage.
“You come, too,” said the Indian to Julius. “What for you steal little girl?”
Julius felt that he might with great propriety have put this question to his companion, but he forebore. He was trying to think of some way of escape.
The Indian plunged into the thick wood, holding Carrie by the hand. Julius followed close after him.
“So it seems,” he said to himself, “instead of recovering Carrie I am caught myself. I wish Mr. Taylor and Abner would come along. We should be too much for the Indian, then.”
This gave him an idea. He took a piece of paper quietly from his pocket, and wrote on it:
“I am with Carrie and the Indian. He is leading us into the middle of the wood. I will drop pieces of paper here and there on the way.
Julius.”
This he dropped casually in the path, without the knowledge of the Indian.
“There,” he said to himself; “if either of them comes this way, it may be the means of saving us.”
But though John did not observe this, he did notice the pieces of paper which Julius dropped, and he was sharp enough to detect his motive for doing this.
“What for drop paper?” he demanded, seizing Julius roughly by the shoulder.
Julius knew that it would be of no use to equivocate, and he answered, manfully. “To let Mr. Taylor know where we are.”
“Umph!” grunted the Indian. “Pick up.”
Julius was forced to pick up all the bits of paper he had scattered, but the original one containing the message he left where it lay.
“Now come.”
The Indian made Julius go in front, and the three went on till they reached the pile of leaves where Carrie and the Indian had rested before.
The Indian resumed his reclining position, and made Julius and Carrie sit down also. Our hero, who still had the pistol, was in doubt whether to use it, but a moment’s reflection satisfied him that it would be of no use. If he wounded the Indian, the latter in his rage might kill them both. Another idea came to him. He had heard from Mrs. Taylor that the Indian had demanded money, and had probably taken offense because it was not given him. He had two dollars in his pocket. If he should give this to their captor, he would probably be eager to invest it in “fire water,” and this would make it necessary to go to the village. While he was absent Carrie and he could start again on their way home.
Upon this hint he spoke.
“Let us go,” he said, “and I will give you money.”
As he spoke he drew four silver half-dollars from his pocket.
“Give me,” said the Indian, his dull eye lighting up.
Julius surrendered them, but said, “Can we go home?”
“No go,” said the Indian. “Stay here.”
Our hero expected nothing better. Still he felt disappointed.
By and by the anticipated effect was produced. The Indian was eager to exchange the money for drink, but he did not want his captives to escape.
He arose to his feet, and approached Julius.
“Come,” he said.
He took the wondering boy by the shoulder, and placed his back against a tree.
“What is he going to do?” thought our hero, rather alarmed.
He was not long left in uncertainty.
The Indian drew from some hiding place in his raiment a stout cord, and proceeded dexterously to tie Julius to the tree.
“Don’t hurt him!” exclaimed Carrie, terrified, thinking that something dreadful was going to be done to Julius.
The Indian did not deign to reply, but proceeded to perform his task so thoroughly that Julius felt uncomfortably cramped.
When it was accomplished, the Indian turned to go.
“Go ’way,” he said. “Soon come back. Stay here.”
Julius felt that he was likely to obey the command, as there was not much chance of his breaking his bonds. But there was one hope yet that somewhat encouraged him.
“Feel in my pocket, Carrie,” he said, “and see if I have a knife.”
Carrie obeyed, but the search was unavailing.
“How unlucky!” said Julius. “I usually have it with me, but I remember leaving it in my other pants. If I only had it, you could cut the string, and we could escape.”
“Do you think he will keep us always, Julius?” asked Carrie, disconsolately.
“No, Carrie; I will find a way to get you home, before long,” said Julius in a tone that expressed more cheerfulness than he felt.
“It’s provoking,” he thought, “to be tied up here, when there is such a good chance to escape. I’ll never go without a knife again. I didn’t think how much good it might do me.”
CHAPTER XXVI.
THE RESCUE
Meanwhile Mr. Taylor and Abner had pursued the search in vain. From opposite directions they met at the entrance to the wood.
“Have you found no traces of Carrie, Abner?” asked the father, anxiously.
“No, sir,” said Abner.
“Have you met Julius?”
“No, sir.”
“I, too, have been unsuccessful; but I am impressed with the belief that my dear child is somewhere in this wood.”
“Very likely, sir. It would be nat’ral for an Indian to make for the woods; that is, if he’s got her.”
“I am afraid there is no doubt of that,” sighed Mr. Taylor. “Do you think he would hurt her, Abner?” he asked, anxiously.
“No, I reckon not. He’d keep her to get money out of you.”
“I would rather give half my fortune than lose my darling.”
“It won’t be necessary to go as high as that, Mr. Taylor. Most likely he’s got her in here somewhere. If we go together, we’ll be too much for the red rascal.”
“Come on, then, and may God speed us.”
So they entered the wood, and plunged deeper and deeper into its gloom. By and by Abner’s attention was drawn to a white fragment of paper, half concealed in the grass. Elsewhere it would not have been noticed, but in the woods it must evidently have been dropped by some one.
He picked it up, and glanced at it.
“Hurrah!” he shouted. “It’s the boy’s hand-writing.”
“What boy?”
“Julius.”
“Give it to me, quick,” said Mr. Taylor.
“Read it out loud,” said Abner, almost equally interested.
Mr. Taylor read:
“I am with Carrie and the Indian. He is leading us into the middle of the wood. I will drop pieces of paper here and there on the way.”
“Bully for Julius!” said Abner. “We’ve got the Indian now, sure.”
“I am glad he is with Carrie. She would be so frightened,” said Mr. Taylor.
“That’s true. She thinks a heap of Julius.”
“He is a good boy—quick-witted, too, or he wouldn’t have thought of the paper.”
“I don’t see the scraps of paper he told about,” said Abner, who had been very anxiously peering about him.
“It may be that he was afraid to drop them, lest it should attract the Indian’s attention,” said Mr. Taylor, coming very near the truth.
“Maybe so. There is another way we can track them.”
“How is that?”
“Noticing where the grass and sticks are trodden over. That’s the Indian way. We’ll fight the red man in his own way.”
“Well thought of, Abner. Your eyes are better than mine. Lead the way, and I will follow.”
Abner was sharp-sighted, nor was he wholly ignorant of the Indians and their ways; and thus it was that he led the anxious father almost directly to the place where Carrie and Julius were waiting in fear and anxiety for the Indian’s return.
Abner spied them first.
“There they are!” he exclaimed, “and the Indian isn’t with them.”
Unable to control his impatience, Mr. Taylor, with a cry of joy, rushed to the spot, and in a moment his beloved little daughter, Carrie, was in his arms.
“My dear little girl,” he said, kissing her again and again, “I thought I had lost you altogether. Were you very much frightened?”
“I was so frightened, papa, till Julius came. I didn’t mind it so much then.”
Meanwhile Abner was loosening the cord by which our hero was tied.
“I s’pose the redskin did this,” said he. “Looks like his work.”
“Yes; he liked my company so much he didn’t want to let me go,” said Julius.
“Where is he?”
“Gone to the village to buy rum, I expect.”
“Where did he get his money?”
“I offered him money to let Carrie and me go, but he took it, and then tied me up here. That’s what I call mean.”
“So do I,” said Abner; “but he’ll find the bird flown when he gets back, I reckon.”
“The birds, you mean.”
“Julius,” said Mr. Taylor, grasping the hand of our hero, now released from his uncomfortable situation, “you have earned my heartfelt gratitude. But for you my darling would still be in the power of that miserable Indian.”
“I didn’t do much,” said Julius, modestly. “I only managed to get taken, too.”
“It was the paper which you had the forethought to drop that led us here.”
“Did you find it?” asked Julius, eagerly. “Then it did some good after all. I was afraid it wouldn’t. The Indian saw me dropping bits of paper, and he was sharp enough to know what it meant. He made me pick them up, but I left the paper with writing on it. He didn’t see that.”
“That’s the way I thought it was,” said Mr. Taylor. “I told Abner you were prevented from giving us the clew, as you promised.”
“Well, it’s all right now,” said Julius. “Our copper-colored friend will have to dispense with our company to-night.”
“We must be getting home,” said Mr. Taylor. “Your mother is terribly anxious about you, Carrie. Are you tired?”
“Yes, papa; the Indian made me walk so fast.”
“I will take you in my arms, my poor child. He shan’t get hold of you again.”
“I’ll take her part of the time, Mr. Taylor,” said Abner.
But the glad father did not seem to feel the weight of his recovered treasure. Quickly they retraced their steps, and when they came near the house Mrs. Taylor ran out to meet them, clasping Carrie to her bosom with grateful joy. It was a day of thanksgiving, for the lost had been found.
CHAPTER XXVII.
JULIUS BUYS A HOUSE
An hour later the Indian was found drunk by the roadside. After procuring a supply of liquor with the money which he had taken from Julius, he set out on his return to the woods, but stopped from time to time to drink. His potations were so deep that he was finally incapable of proceeding farther.
His agency in kidnapping little Carrie having become known, he was arrested, and brought before a justice. The magistrate sentenced him to a month’s imprisonment, assuring him that when it was over it would not be expedient for him to visit the neighborhood again. The savage endured his imprisonment with the stoicism characteristic of his race, and on the day of his release departed, and was not seen again in Brookville.
On the day succeeding Carrie’s adventure, Mr. Taylor said to Julius, “I shall to-day place to your credit in the savings bank two hundred and fifty dollars, in acknowledgment of your service in rescuing my little girl, though it involved risk to yourself.”
“Thank you, sir,” said Julius, gratefully; “but I don’t think I deserve so much.”
“Let me be the judge of that.”
“Abner did as much as I.”
“Abner will not go unrewarded. I shall deposit a similar sum in the bank for him.”
“Then, sir, I can only thank you for your kindness. I hope I shall deserve it.”
“I hope and believe you will,” said his patron, warmly. “Only keep on as you have begun, and you will win the respect and good-will of all.”
Though Julius said little, this commendation gave him great satisfaction. Little more than a year before he had been a poor and ignorant street boy, the companion of two burglars, with no prospects in life except to grow up in ignorance, and perhaps vice. To-day he was a member of a family of social position, as well educated as most boys of his age, with every encouragement to keep on in the right path, worth three hundred dollars in money, and with a prosperous future before him.
“How fortunate I am,” he thought. “It was a lucky thing for me when I made up my mind to come out West.”
But his good fortune was not exhausted. One morning, a few months later, Mr. Taylor called him back as he was leaving the breakfast table.
“Julius,” he said, “I want to speak to you on a matter of business.”
“Yes, sir,” said Julius, inquiringly.
“You have three hundred dollars in the savings bank.”
“It is more now, sir, as some interest was added in January.”
“Very true. Now, I am going to give you some advice about investing it.”
“I shall be very glad to follow your advice, Mr. Taylor.”
“This is what I have in view: You know Mr. Cathcart’s place, about a mile from here?”
“Yes, sir.”
“There is a small house and barn on the place, and about ten acres of land are connected with it. He is anxious to sell, as he has had a very good offer of employment in Minnesota. Now, I advise you to buy the place. It is sure to rise in value on account of its location. I should not be surprised if it doubled in value in five years.”
“But,” said Julius, rather bewildered, “he won’t sell for three hundred dollars, will he?”
“No, probably not,” answered Mr. Taylor, smiling.
“That is all the money I have.”
“He asks fifteen hundred dollars, which is cheap for it, in my opinion.”
“Then I don’t see how I can buy it.”
“Suppose he should be willing to take three hundred dollars down, and the remainder at the end of a few years, you paying the interest in the meantime.”
“Yes, I see,” said Julius.
“The twelve hundred dollars would be secured by a mortgage, which you would eventually pay off.”
Here Mr. Taylor explained to Julius, whose knowledge of real estate transactions was limited, the nature of a mortgage, and the laws relating to it.
“I should like to buy it, if you think best,” said our hero, at length.
“Then I will arrange matters, as your guardian. By the time you are twenty-one, you will, I venture to say, be worth quite a little property.”
“But what shall I do with the place?” asked Julius. “I can’t go to live there.”
“You may as well defer that till you are married,” said Mr. Taylor; a suggestion which made Julius smile. “The proper course is to find a tenant for it. The rent will enable you to pay taxes and the interest on the mortgage, and probably yield you a profit beside. Even if not, you will be richly repaid in time by the increased value of the property.”
No time was lost in effecting this transaction, as Mr. Cathcart was anxious to leave Brookville as soon as possible. The money was drawn from the savings bank, and almost before he knew it Julius found himself the owner of a house and outbuildings, and ten acres of land. He went out to see it, and it gave him a peculiar feeling to think that he, late a ragged New York street boy, was now the proprietor of a landed estate.
“I wonder what Jack and Marlowe would say if they knew it,” he thought. “It would make Marlowe mad, I know. He never at any time liked me very much, and now he hates me bad enough, I am afraid.”
A week after the property passed into our hero’s hands, a respectable-looking man called at Mr. Taylor’s door. He was a young mechanic, a carpenter, who had recently established himself in Brookville.
“Take a seat, Mr. Brown,” said Mr. Taylor, politely.
“I came on a little business,” said the young man. “I would like to hire the Cathcart place. I hear you are the purchaser.”
“You are perfectly right, Mr. Brown,” said Mr. Taylor. “I purchased it, but it was in behalf of my ward Julius, here. You will have to speak to him about hiring it.”
“Indeed!” said the young man. “I hope,” turning to Julius, “you won’t object to me as a tenant.”
“I have so little experience as a landlord,” said Julius, laughing, “that I don’t quite know what to say. What rent are you willing to give?”
“I could afford to pay ten dollars a month.”
“That is a fair price, Julius,” said Mr. Taylor.
“Then I shall be glad to accept your offer,” said Julius. “You can move in as soon as you please.”
“That is satisfactory. I hope you will find me a desirable tenant.”
“And I hope you will find me a good landlord,” said Julius.
“I think we shall agree pretty well,” said the young man. “After we get settled, we shall be glad to receive a visit from our landlord.”
Julius laughingly agreed to call.
“It seems like a joke,” he said afterward to Mr. Taylor, “my being a landlord. I don’t know how to act.”
“I hope it will prove a profitable joke, Julius,” said Mr. Taylor. “I have reason to think it will.”
“I think I will write to Mr. O’Connor and tell him how I am getting along,” said Julius.
“Do so,” said Mr. Taylor.
Julius wrote that very day, not without pride and satisfaction.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
A BUSINESS JOURNEY
We must now carry forward the story two years. It has been a profitable time for Julius. His excellent natural abilities, stimulated by ambition, have advanced him very considerably in the education which comes from books, while the hours spent in labor on the farm have strengthened his muscles, and developed his figure, so that he presents a strong contrast to the undersized and slender boy who came from the city streets in Mr. O’Connor’s company. The effort of generous diet also may be seen in his improved looks. He would now be regarded as quite a good-looking boy, though he privately considers himself entitled to the more dignified appellation of a young man.
I am glad to be able to record that in other ways also he has improved. As a street boy, he was not wholly free from the errors common to his class. Now he has a regard for truth, and Mr. Taylor has come to have implicit confidence in his word. He has even come to feel a paternal interest in the once neglected waif, and treats him in all respects like a son. Little Carrie, too, calls him Brother Julius, and probably feels as much affection for him as if he were her own brother.
Thus happily situated, Julius is not troubled as to his real parentage. There is a mystery attending his origin, which he will probably never be able to solve. But he is content to regard Mr. and Mrs. Taylor as his parents, since they have allowed him to do so, and will always be known by the name of Julius Taylor.
Of course he has not forgotten his old associates, Jack Morgan and Marlowe. About two years after his arrival in Brookville a paragraph was copied into the county paper from the New York Herald, recording the daring attempts of these two criminals to escape from the prison at Sing Sing. Jack Morgan was caught and brought back, but Marlowe managed to make good his escape.
“I suppose,” thought Julius, “Jack was too fat. He couldn’t get over the ground as fast as Marlowe.”
In this he was correct. Jack Morgan’s size and clumsiness had interfered with his escape, while Marlowe, who was not so incumbered, got away.
“Marlowe would be glad to know where I am,” said our hero to himself. “He’d like to punish me for getting him caught. But he isn’t likely to find me out here. And even if he did, I think I can take care of myself better than I could when he knew me.”
Julius surveyed his figure in the glass complacently as he said this. He was five feet eight inches in height, and weighed one hundred and fifty pounds. His arm was powerful; and though he could not contend on equal terms with the tall burglar, he felt that the time would soon come when he could do so.
“I wonder if he’d know me now,” thought our hero.
This question was soon to be solved, though Julius did not know it.
In the month of October Mr. Taylor proposed to Julius to set out on a collecting tour, among the towns in the neighborhood.
“I have claims against a dozen persons,” he said, “which ought to be presented and paid. At present, however, it is not convenient for me to leave home. If you will take my place, it will be quite a relief.”
“There is nothing I should like better,” said Julius, elated at the prospect of a journey.
“I thought you might like it,” said Mr. Taylor.
“I am glad you feel sufficient confidence in me to send me,” said our hero.
“You have given me reason to confide in you,” said Mr. Taylor, quietly. “You will judge of the extent of my confidence when I say that the bills which I shall give you to collect amount to a thousand dollars, or, perhaps, a little more.”
“I will bring back every cent,” said Julius, promptly.
“Every cent you succeed in collecting. I have no doubt of it. The only caution I have to give you is, to guard against being robbed. If it is supposed that you have a considerable sum of money, you might be in danger of having it stolen.”
“It’ll take a smart thief to get it away from me,” said Julius, confidently. “I didn’t live fifteen years in the streets of New York for nothing. When do you want me to start?”
“To-morrow morning. I shall give you the horse and buggy, and we will plan the order of your journey to-night. You will stop at hotels, and expend whatever is needful. I will ask you only to keep an account of your expenses, to be submitted to me on your return.”
“Very well, sir. How long do you expect me to be gone?”
“That will depend on how much success you meet with. I should think a week might be sufficient. If you find it necessary to stay longer, do so; but let me know from time to time what progress you make in your mission.”
“Yes, sir, I’ll write to you every day.”
There are few boys of seventeen who would not have experienced pleasure in such an expedition. To have the command of a horse and buggy, to drive from town to town, putting up at hotels by night, would to most be a pleasant prospect. But Julius thoroughly understood that, however pleasant it might be, the motive of his journey was business; and he resolved to exert himself to the utmost in the interests of his guardian and benefactor.
