Alger Horatio Jr.
Making His Mark
CHAPTER XXII
THE TABLES ARE TURNED
Ralph Nixon burst into a laugh.
"I see you are very poor, uncle," he said. "It is a feast for sore eyes to see these piles of yellow darlings." And he took out a handful and eyed them lovingly.
"Let them alone! Shut the box!" cried the old man, in agitation and alarm.
"How many may I take, uncle?" asked Ralph.
"None, you thief!"
"Don't call me hard names, dear Uncle Thomas," said the young man, mockingly. "Don't forget that I am your nephew."
"I don't know whether you are or not. Shut up the box, I say."
"You are an old man. You can't live long. This money won't do you any good. You won't live to enjoy it. Give me half." And as he spoke he deposited in his pocket the handful of coins he had already taken.
This was too much for the old man. With an effort he rose to his feet and staggered to where the intruder was kneeling.
"Go away; go away at once!" he cried out, in agitation. "You are a thief. I don't believe you are a Nixon at all."
He tried to seize Ralph by the shoulder, but only fell over him.
The young man laughed, and put another handful of coins into his pocket.
"You—you scoundrel! Old as I am, I'll live to see you hanged!"
By this time the visitor had become angry. He gave the old man a push which laid him on his back, for he had little or no strength.
Thomas Nixon began to cry out, "Help! Murder! Thieves!" so that his nephew became alarmed.
"If you don't stop your yelping I'll choke you!" he exclaimed.
But the old man continued crying out.
Finally Ralph lost patience, and grasped the old man by the throat, nearly choking him.
"Will no one help me?" he cried, feebly, as soon as the grasp was somewhat relaxed.
"No; there is no one within hearing!" said Ralph. "Give me half of these gold pieces and I will go away and never trouble you again."
"No, no!" screamed the old man. "I won't give you one!"
"Then I shall have to help myself," said Ralph, coolly, and this he proceeded to do.
The old man, who was lying on his back on the floor, tried to get up, but he was too weak, and his unfeeling nephew laughed at his efforts.
"Will no one help me?" he again asked, in piteous accents.
"I guess not," said Ralph; but as he spoke the outer door opened, and Gerald Lane appeared.
Scarcely noticing who it was, but knowing that some one had entered the room, the old man again called for assistance.
Ralph Nixon was at first alarmed when he heard the door open, but on seeing Gerald his boldness returned.
"It's only a kid?" he exclaimed, contemptuously.
"What are you doing there?" demanded Gerald, with spirit.
"None of your business, boy. You'd better clear out!"
"He is robbing me!" complained the old man.
"I am his nephew. Part of the gold is mine."
"I never saw him till this morning. He is a thief! Help me if you can!"
"I'll try," said Gerald.
Looking about him for some offensive weapon he espied a broom. Seizing it, he flourished it above his head, and ordered the ruffian to put back the gold he had taken.
These words were greeted by a derisive laugh.
"I take no orders from a kid!" said the thief.
"Then take that!"
Carried away by his indignation, Gerald struck Ralph a smart blow on the head with the broom-handle. The ruffian was immediately on his feet, his face blazing with wrath.
"I'll give you a lesson!" he exclaimed, between his set teeth.
Gerald began to realize that he was in a tight place, but he was a brave boy, and he had no intention of surrendering. He dodged quickly to one side, and dealt the intruder another blow on his head. This added to his fury, and he made a mad dash after Gerald. He finally seized him by the shoulder, and, with a violent push, threw him on the floor. Of course a boy's strength was no match for that of a robust man. Struggle as he might, Gerald was overpowered. The ruffian, with a cruel gleam in his eyes, seized the boy by the throat and tried to strangle him.
Though the old man didn't know Gerald, he appreciated the fact that it was in trying to serve him that he had gotten into trouble. Had he possessed the requisite strength, or any strength at all, he would have gone to his assistance. The hardest thing was to lie helpless and see his brave young defender in danger of his life.
He did what he could. He raised his feeble voice, calling, shrilly: "Help! help!"
There seemed little chance of his cry being heard, but it is sometimes the unexpected that happens. When Gerald was very near the point of strangulation help came. The door flew open and two roughly dressed miners entered.
"What's up? What's all this?" exclaimed the two miners as they stepped into the room.
A glance about the cabin told the story.
"I declare if it isn't the chap that was down to Loche's," said one of the men.
"He's been robbing me," feebly whimpered the old man. "He's stolen my gold."
The faces of the two men became stern. In a mining settlement robbing is a capital crime, and a thief has but a short shrift and a speedy passage to another world.
When the two men entered, Ralph Nixon in alarm let go his hold on Gerald and rose to his feet. He saw that the tables were turned and that he was in danger.
"What were you doing with that boy?" demanded one of the miners.
"He struck me on the head, and I was teaching him a lesson."
"Suppose we hear what he has to say?"
Gerald, thus appealed to, answered:
"I came into the cabin five minutes ago and found him robbing the old man, and I interfered."
"So he was robbing the old man? Mr. Nixon, is this true?"
"Yes," answered Thomas Nixon, feebly. "He has some of my gold pieces in his pocket."
"Then he must unload. Seize him, Mike."
The two miners seized Ralph in a powerful grasp, and turned his pockets inside out. They discovered about fifty gold coins.
"What have you to say, you thief?" demanded one, sternly.
"He gave them to me," answered Ralph, alarmed.
"No, no; it isn't so," protested Thomas Nixon. "He took them out of yonder box. I tried to stop him, but it did no good. Then that brave boy came in and the rascal tried to murder him."
"It's a clear case, Mike. What shall we do with him?"
"We'll call a meeting of the boys, and then we'll decide."
They seized Ralph, and proceeded to drag him off between them.
"Uncle Thomas!" cried the terrified ruffian, "save me, save me!"
"Is he your nephew, Mr. Nixon?" asked one of the miners.
"I don't know. He says he is."
"Certainly I am. I am his brother's son."
"That doesn't entitle you to rob him."
"I only borrowed the gold. I meant to pay it back."
"That's a likely story. Bring him along."
They left the cabin with Ralph between them, and proceeded at once to the store kept by Joe Loche.
In five minutes their numbers were increased till the original two had swelled to twenty-five or thirty.
"What has he done?" asked one of the new members.
"Been stealing gold from old man Nixon. We caught him in the act."
"It's mighty dangerous for a thief round here, stranger," said Joe Loche. "What have you got to say for yourself?"
"He can't say anything. We found the gold in his pocket."
"Boys," said Chris Nelson, who was generally looked up to as a leader in the settlement, "you hear what is said against this man. What shall be his fate?"
"Hang him!" was the laconic response of half a dozen.
"No, no!" shrieked the affrighted wretch, "I only took the gold in joke."
"Then we'll hang you in joke."
"Oh, don't hang me! I ain't fit to die."
"I guess that's right," said Chris Nelson.
"Get a rope—a good, strong rope, and we'll hang him to yonder tree."
They began to drag him to a tree on a small knoll two hundred yards away. He shrieked and howled with fear till all were sickened with his pusillanimity. Finally, on his promise to leave the settlement and never return, they commuted his punishment to a lashing on his bare back, in which all eagerly took part. When it was over the repentant rogue crawled away, bruised and sore. Seldom has retribution been so swift.
CHAPTER XXIII
NEW ARRANGEMENTS
Gerald remained after the others left the cabin. The old man looked at him inquiringly.
"I don't think I know you," he said. "Do you live in the village?"
"No, sir. I was sent here from the East."
Thomas Nixon looked puzzled.
"Are you going to school?"
"No, sir. I was sent here to see you."
"To see me? I don't understand."
"Do you remember writing a letter to Mr. John Nugent, of Portville?"
"Yes; but surely–"
"I have a copy of your letter here, which I will show you. You wished Mr. Nugent to send a messenger to represent him and assist you in any way you might desire."
"But," exclaimed the old man, in astonishment, "I didn't expect him to send a boy."
"This letter will explain to you why he sent me."
"Read it to me. I cannot see without my glasses."
Gerald drew the letter from the envelope, and read as follows:
"Mr. Nixon,
"I need not say that I was surprised to receive your letter. I supposed you dead long ago. I am glad to hear that you are alive, and are in such a creditable state of mind. When you appropriated our funds, you injured yourself more than you did us. I am sure you have regretted it many times.
"I cannot go out to see you as I would if I were younger and stronger, for I am getting to be an old man, and I am feeble, besides being a victim of rheumatism. As to sending a messenger, I was at first greatly in doubt whom I could select. Finally I fixed upon Gerald Lane, whose late father I knew well. He is only a boy, but he possesses as much good judgment as many men ten years older. Besides, he is thoroughly honest and reliable. I place him at your service, with full power to act for me, and I will pay his expenses. When you know him as well as I do, you will learn to trust him as much as I do.
"I remain, with sincere good wishes,
"Your old friend,"John Nugent."
Gerald was gratified in reading the terms used in speaking of him.
Mr. Nixon listened intently.
"That is a good letter, and gives me great pleasure!" he said. "I am glad that John Nugent forgives me the injury I did him."
"Yes, he told me that he freely forgave you."
"But still," said the old man, "it seems strange to me that a boy of your age– How old are you?"
"Sixteen."
"That a boy of sixteen should be so trusted."
"I am surprised, too, Mr. Nixon," said Gerald, frankly. "I hope I shall be found to deserve all that Mr. Nugent says of me. He is a fine man, and has been a good friend to me."
"He is an excellent man," said Mr. Nixon, with emphasis. "I like you, too, and I feel confident that you deserve what he says of you."
"I hope so, Mr. Nixon, and I want to be of service to you. Will you let me offer a suggestion?"
"By all means."
"Then don't you think it is unwise to keep your gold so exposed? I wonder you have not been robbed before."
"That is true. I have been imprudent. But I have been so miserably sick, I was unable to make any other arrangements. Now that you are here, I will think what I can do."
"Is there no bank where you could store it?"
"Yes, there is one ten miles away, in Fairfield, but I am not able to go there."
"Send me, then. You will want to keep some of the gold by you for use."
"I use very little money," said the old man, shaking his head.
"I hope you will use more. You are getting old, and you ought to be more comfortably situated. As I read the letter you sent to Mr. Nugent I know that you are abundantly able to live better than you do."
"You are right. Heretofore I have had no ambitions and no object in life, but since I am assured of John Nugent's forgiveness I feel that a burden had been lifted from my soul. You are so young, you won't get tired of staying with the old man?"
"No, Mr. Nixon. Not only for Mr. Nugent's sake, but for your sake, I will gladly remain with you and do what I can."
"Thank you. It puts new life into me to know that I have a young companion who will help me, and do for me what I cannot do for myself. You came at the right time."
"Yes, I was startled when I opened the cabin door to see that man in the act of robbing you. Is he really your nephew?"
"Dear knows, I don't! I never saw him before. Whatever he is I don't care to recognize him as a relative."
"I don't think he will ever trouble you again. The men who carried him away will give him a good fright, at any rate. Now, Mr. Nixon, where do you think it best that I should stay? I need to be near you to take care of you."
The old man looked puzzled. He looked about him at the contracted accommodations of the cabin, and hesitated.
"I am afraid you would not like staying here," he said, after awhile.
"Not for any length of time, Mr. Nixon. If you won't be offended, I will ask you why you stay here yourself?"
"I have lived here ever since I came to Campville," he answered.
"And how long is that?"
"Fifteen years."
"Did you build the cabin?"
"No. It had just been vacated by the original owner and builder."
"You ought to have a more comfortable home."
"Yes, I suppose so," said Thomas Nixon; "but I don't know where to go."
"Will you authorize me to find you a place, Mr. Nixon?"
"Yes."
"Then I will go out at once and see what I can find. You should not stay here another night."
"Come back soon," said the old man.
He had already come to value the company of his young companion, and felt that he should miss him, even for a short time.
Gerald took his hat and went out. He bent his steps toward the store of Joe Loche, feeling that he should there be more likely to obtain the information of which he was in search. He had already called there, like Ralph Nixon, to inquire the way to the cabin of the old man.
"Mr. Loche," he said, proceeding at once to business, "is there any comfortable house vacant in the village?"
"Yes," answered the storekeeper. "There is a four-room house, which was occupied yesterday but is vacant to-day."
"Who owns it?"
"I do. I bought it, furniture and all, from Jim Morris, who has made his pile, and is going back to his old home in New Hampshire."
"Are you willing to sell or let it?"
"Either one. Are you going to get married and settle down among us?"
"Not quite yet," answered Gerald, with a laugh. "I have been sent from the East to Mr. Nixon, and I shall stay with him for a while. He has authorized me to look him up a more suitable home."
"I am glad to hear it. That old tumble-down shanty isn't fit for the old man to live in."
"Would you mind showing me the house?"
"I shall be glad to do so. Here, Dennis, just look after business, and I will go over to Jim's house with this young man."
Gerald found the house better furnished than he had anticipated. Jim Morris had a wife and young family, and had provided them a comfortable home. The house seemed completely furnished, even to crockery and kitchen furniture. Gerald was much pleased.
"I will recommend Mr. Nixon to hire it, and after a while I hope he will buy it. Can he move in to-night?"
"Sure."
"Then I will take it. I am sure Mr. Nixon will do what I advise."
"You don't ask what I shall charge!"
"No, Mr. Loche, because I know you will only ask a fair price; and, besides, there is no other house I can get."
"That is true. Well, it will be all right about the terms."
"One thing more. Have you a wagon in which you can bring Mr. Nixon over? He is too feeble to walk."
"I'll send at once. My assistant, Dennis Carlyle, will harness up and go back with you."
"Thank you, Mr. Loche."
"I say, boy, you seem to be a pretty smart kid. So you are going to look after the old man?"
"Yes."
"Then he's in luck. You have begun well."
"What was done with the man who tried to rob him?"
"He got an everlasting thrashing. We made him run the gauntlet, and he was pretty sore when he crept away. We thought at first of hanging him!"
"I am glad you didn't. I don't think he will trouble his uncle again."
"No, he won't come within fifty miles of Campville again as long as he lives."
CHAPTER XXIV
A NEW HOME
Gerald jumped from the wagon and entered the cabin. Thomas Nixon sat in his old, listless attitude, but his eyes brightened when Gerald entered the room.
"Well, Mr. Nixon," said Gerald, "are you ready to move?"
"I don't understand. Where am I to move to?"
"I have hired a house for you—the one till recently occupied by a man whom they call Jim Morris. I have hired it completely furnished, and all you will have to do is to walk in."
The old man seemed almost bewildered by the suddenness of the proposition.
"But I can't walk so far," he said.
"You won't have to. I have a wagon at the door; we will help you into it, and in fifteen minutes you will find yourself in a more comfortable home."
"If you think it best," said the old man, hesitatingly.
"I do; and so will you when you have made the change."
"Then I will go."
"What do you want carried with you?"
"I am used to this chair."
"Very well, we will take it. Is there anything else?"
Thomas Nixon pointed to the tin box.
"Oh, yes; we mustn't forget that. Is there anything else?"
"No."
"Then, Mr. Carlyle, will you help get Mr. Nixon into the wagon?"
Dennis Carlyle, who was a stout, muscular young man, lent a hand, and the old man soon found himself in the wagon, sitting in his favorite chair.
"Sha'n't we need to carry some dishes? There's a few in yonder closet."
"Not to-day, Mr. Nixon. We shall have all the dishes and kitchen utensils left by Mr. Morris."
It was not long before they found themselves at the door of the new home. Gerald helped Mr. Nixon out of the wagon, and led the way into the house. All was neat and comfortable, and furnished a very favorable contrast to the dilapidated cabin where Nixon had lived so many years. There was a woolen carpet on the floor of the sitting-room, an eight-day clock on the mantel, three or four pictures on the walls, and a comfortable couch on one side of the room. The old man heaved a sigh of satisfaction.
"This is the way I used to live," he said.
"It is the way you shall live hereafter," said Gerald.
"It makes me feel younger already. What a wonderful boy you are!"
Gerald smiled.
"Oh, no, I am only an ordinary boy," he replied.
"I understand now why John Nugent sent you to me. Are you sure you are only sixteen."
"Quite sure."
"And I am sixty-six! What a difference!"
In truth, Thomas Nixon looked ten years older than he really was. It was partly sickness, and partly want of nourishing food and cheerful companionship.
"We will have you looking younger soon," said Gerald, cheerfully. "And, now, don't you think it is almost time for dinner?"
"I—I think I could eat something," said the old man, slowly. "It is long since I have had an appetite, but now I almost feel hungry. You—you may get a loaf of bread and some butter at Mr. Loche's store."
"Leave that matter in my hands, Mr. Nixon. I suppose you won't mind my spending a little money?"
"No, no. Take a gold piece from the box, and buy what you like."
Gerald found a small hotel at which many of the miners boarded, and engaged two dinners to be sent over to their new home. When the food arrived he set out the table and properly arranged it.
"Now, Mr. Nixon," he said, cheerfully, "let me move up your chair and we will have dinner."
It was long since the old man had sat down to a regular meal, and it was as much the lack of nourishing food as any other cause that had weakened him.
His faded eyes lighted up, and for the first time in many weeks he felt a craving for food. Gerald took the head of the table.
"Now, Mr. Nixon," he said, "let me help you to some roast beef. Now, here is a boiled potato, and some turnips; and there is bread and butter."
"It is a feast," said the old man, gleefully. "It is long since I tasted roast beef."
"Then you made a mistake in stinting yourself when there was no need of it. Hereafter you must live well."
"So I will—so I will; that is, if you stay with me. But I thought I was going to die soon, and it didn't make any difference."
"You don't want to die till your time comes. Why, you are not so very old."
"I am sixty-six."
"And you may live twenty years yet."
"I didn't care to live; but now, since you have come, things look different."
Both ate heartily, and when the dinner was over, the old man moved back his chair and breathed a sigh of content.
"It is the best meal I have tasted for years," he said.
"Your nephew ought to have stayed to dinner," said Gerald, smiling.
"I hope I shall never see him again; he is a very bad man."
"He won't dare to come back to this settlement. He had to run the gauntlet, and he was lucky to escape with his life. Now, let me show you the other rooms."
There were two other rooms, each provided with a comfortable bed. In the smaller one Gerald put his gripsack, and, unpacking his clothes, laid them away in the drawers of a small bureau.
"Where are your clothes, Mr. Nixon?" he asked.
The old man looked embarrassed.
"I have very few," he said, "and those are about worn out."
"May I buy you some?"
"I wish you would; and you may as well throw away the old ones. Take whatever money you need and go to the store."
"I see you have confidence in me, Mr. Nixon."
"Yes; I feel that you are a good boy and I can trust you. You have made a new man of me already. This morning I thought I was very near to death. Now I feel ten years younger."
During the rest of the day Gerald exerted himself to supply any deficiencies in the household, and provided whatever was needed in the way of comfort. When evening came on the lamps were lighted, and the new residence seemed homelike. With Mr. Nixon's consent, arrangements were made to have all their meals sent over from the hotel.
The box of gold coins had been placed in the sitting-room.
"I wish your gold was in some safe place, Mr. Nixon," said Gerald, as his glance fell on the tin box.
"You can take it to the bank in Fairfield to-morrow," said the old man; "that is, most of it. We shall need some to spend from day to day."
"Very well. I will engage a team from Mr. Loche, and ride over in the morning. Have you an account there already?"
"Yes. I have five thousand dollars in the bank."
"You must give me something to do, Mr. Nixon. I will attend to any business that requires attention—that is, provided you think I am competent."
"I shall be glad to accept your offer; but if you are entering my service you must be paid."
"Mr. Nugent will see that I am paid."
"No, no; I cannot allow it. I am a rich man. It is right that I should pay you. I will give you—" he paused for a moment—"sixty dollars a month and your board. Will that be sufficient?"
"It is high pay for a boy."
"You will be doing a man's work."
"I am afraid my services will not be worth that money."
"Have no fear on that score. I am a rich man, as I wrote to Mr. Nugent. I may be worth nearly one hundred thousand dollars."
"Is your wealth known in the settlement?"
"No. I don't think any one considers me worth over five thousand dollars. It is fortunate for me, or there might have been attempts to rob me before."
"How is your property invested, if you don't mind telling me?"
"I have some mines over in the next county. I have been too ill to look after them. I will send you soon in my place."
"I will do as well as I can, Mr. Nixon; but I wish I were older."
"You are a smart boy. I am sure you will be able to do all that is required."
The next morning Gerald went over to Joe Loche's store. He had already learned that Joe was the principal business man in the place. Besides his store team he had an extra horse and wagon, which he let out to any one who needed to hire. He readily agreed to let Gerald have it.
"Where are you going?" he asked.
"To Fairfield," answered Gerald. "Is the way easy to find?"
"Yes; it is a straight road."
"I want to visit the bank. I shall take over a thousand dollars in gold belonging to Mr. Nixon."
"Aye, it will be better in the bank than in his house. Are you related to the old man?"
"No; but I am going to help him about his business. He is too feeble to look after it himself."
"Take care you don't get robbed," said Joe, with a smile. "It is a lonely road."
"Yes, I will be careful."
