Andy Grant's Pluck 5

Andy Grant's Pluck 5

"Mr. Gale must be rich," he reflected. "I wish I could get in with him."

 

"As Andy has to work on the farm," he said, "I shall be glad to go out

with you any afternoon."

 

"Thank you; but I have made an arrangement with Andy that will save him

from the necessity of farm work."

 

Conrad opened his eyes in surprise.

 

Later in the evening, when he met Andy at the village store, he asked:

 

"How much does Mr. Gale pay you for going with him?"

 

"The arrangement is private, Conrad, or I would tell you."

 

"How much are you with him?"

 

"I go to the hotel at nine o'clock in the morning."

 

"What do you do then?"

 

"He calls me his private secretary."

 

"Do you get as much as three dollars a week?"

 

"I am sorry, I can't tell you."

 

"Oh, well, if it is such a profound secret. You seem to have got in with

him."

 

"He treats me very kindly."

 

"Is he rich?"

 

"I don't know, but I presume he is."

 

"I don't see what keeps him in such a dull hole as Arden, when he could

live in the city and be in the midst of things."

 

"At any rate, it is lucky for me that he chooses to stay here."

 

"What on earth does he want of a private secretary?" demanded Conrad.

 

"Perhaps you had better ask him."

 

"Probably he only hires you out of pity."

 

"I won't trouble myself about his motives, as long as he appears to

like having me with him."

 

Several days passed. The mornings were spent in study, the afternoons on

the pond.

 

There had been no change in the program, so that Andy was surprised

when, one morning, Mr. Gale said:

 

"We will omit our lessons this morning; I am going to send you to Benton

on an errand."

 

"Very well, sir."

 

"I have an account with the bank, and will send a check by you to be

cashed."

 

"All right, sir."

 

"I will engage a top buggy for you at the hotel stable. I suppose you

are used to driving?"

 

"Oh, yes, sir."

 

"And I suppose you know the way to Benton?"

 

"I have been there a good many times."

 

"Then there will be no trouble."

 

"When do you want me to start?"

 

"At eleven o'clock. That would get you home late to dinner. You may,

therefore, stop and dine at the hotel in Benton."

 

This would make it a day's excursion. Andy liked driving, and the visit

to Benton would be a pleasure to him.

 

"I will run home and tell mother I shall not be back to dinner," he

said.

 

"Very well. Be back here at eleven o'clock."

 

"All right, sir."

 

When Andy reached the hotel on his return he found the buggy ready.

Harnessed to it was the best horse in the hotel stable.

 

"A pleasant journey to you!" said Walter Gale, smiling at Andy from the

piazza.

 

"Thank you, sir."

 

Andy drove off at good speed. It was a bright, clear morning. The air

was invigorating, and his spirits rose.

 

He reflected upon his good luck in having found such a friend as Walter

Gale. He had been unfortunate, to be sure, in being compelled to leave

school, but the hardship was very much mitigated by Mr. Gale's

friendship.

 

He had gone two-thirds of the way when he overtook a man whose bloated

look and shabby clothing proclaimed him to belong to the large class of

tramps whose business seems to be to roam through the country in quest

of plunder.

 

The man looked up as Andy reached him.

 

"I say, boy," he called out, "give me a lift, won't you?"

 

Andy was kind-hearted, but he was repelled by the unsavory look of the

man who asked him this favor. He felt that it would be very unpleasant

to have such a man sitting beside him in the buggy.

 

"I think you must excuse me," he said.

 

"What for?" asked the man, with a scowl. "Are you too proud to take in

a poor man?"

 

"I don't object to you being poor," answered Andy; "but you look as if

you had been drinking."

 

The man replied by an oath, and, bending over, he picked up a good-sized

stone and flung it at the young driver. Fortunately his condition made

his aim unsteady, and the stone flew wide of the mark.

 

Andy whipped up the horse, and was soon out of danger.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER VIII.

 

A MOMENT OF DANGER.

 

 

Andy did not examine the check till he reached the bank in Benton. Then,

glancing at it before he presented it to the paying-teller, he found

that it was for one hundred and twenty-five dollars.

 

"How will you have it?" asked the teller.

 

"Twenty-five dollars in small bills; the rest in fives and tens,"

answered Andy, as instructed by Mr. Gale.

 

The bills were counted out and placed in his hands. To Andy they seemed

a large sum of money, and, indeed, the roll was big enough to convey

that impression.

 

As he left the bank he saw the familiar but not welcome face of the

tramp who had stopped him glued against the pane. He had attended to

some errands before going to the bank, which allowed the fellow time to

reach it in season to watch him.

 

"I wonder if he saw me putting away the bills?" thought Andy.

 

However, in a town like Benton, there was little chance of robbery.

 

The tramp looked at him with evil significance as he left the bank.

 

"Give me a dollar," he said.

 

"I can't," answered Andy.

 

"I saw you with a big roll of bills."

 

"They are not mine."

 

"Give me enough to buy a dinner, then," growled the tramp.

 

"Why should I give you anything? You threw a stone at me on the road."

 

The tramp turned away muttering, and the glance with which he eyed Andy

was far from friendly.

 

As directed, Andy went over to the hotel and got dinner. He took the

opportunity to dispose of the bills, putting all the large ones in his

inside vest pocket. The small bills he distributed among his other

pockets.

 

Andy started for home at two o'clock. He felt some responsibility,

remembering that he had a considerable sum of money with him.

 

This made him anxious, and he felt that he should be glad to get home

safe and deliver his funds to Mr. Gale. Probably he would not have

thought of danger if he had not met the tramp on his way over.

 

The road for the most part was clear and open, but there was one

portion, perhaps a third of a mile in length, bordered by trees and

underbrush. It was so short, however, that it would be soon passed over.

 

But about the middle of it a man sprang from the side of the road and

seized the horse by the bridle. It did not require a second look to

satisfy Andy that it was the tramp.

 

The crisis had come! Andy's heart was in his mouth. He was a brave boy,

but it might well make even an older person nervous to be stopped by an

ill-looking tramp, who was without doubt a criminal.

 

"Let go that bridle!" called Andy in a tone which, in spite of his

nervousness, was clear and resolute.

 

"So I will when I have got what I want," answered the tramp.

 

"What do you want?"

 

"Look at me and you can tell what I want."

 

"I presume you want money, but I have none to give you."

 

"You are lying. You have plenty of money about your clothes."

 

"I said I had no money to give you."

 

"Didn't I see you get a roll of bills at the bank?"

 

"Very likely you did, but what about that?"

 

"I want some of them. I won't take all, but I am a poor man, and I need

them more than the man you are taking them to."

 

"Whom do you think I am taking them to?"

 

"Squire Carter. He is the only man in Arden that keeps no much money in

the bank."

 

"You are mistaken; the money is not his."

 

"Whose, then?"

 

"I don't feel called upon to tell you."

 

"Well, that's neither here nor there. I want some of it. I'll be content

with half, whoever owns it."

 

"You won't get any. Let go the horse, or I'll run you down."

 

"You're a smart kid, but you are no match for me. I don't scare worth a

cent."

 

"Listen to me," said Andy; "if you should succeed in robbing me, you

would be caught and sent to jail. How will that suit you?"

 

"It wouldn't be the first time I've been in jail. I'd just as soon be

there as to tramp around without a cent of money."

 

Andy was not surprised to hear that he had to deal with an ex-convict.

He understood that this man was a desperate character. He saw that he

was a strong, powerful man, in the full vigor of life.

 

Any contest between them would be most unequal. He was but sixteen and

the tramp was near forty. What could he do?

 

"I'll tell you what I'll do," he said, willing to try an experiment.

"I've got two dollars of my own. I'll give you that if you'll let go my

horse's bridle and give me no more trouble."

 

The tramp laughed mockingly.

 

"Do you take me for a fool?" he asked.

 

"Why?"

 

"Do you think I will be satisfied with two dollars, when you have a

hundred in your pocket? Two dollars wouldn't last me a day."

 

"I have nothing to do with that. It is all I mean to give you."

 

"Then I shall have to help myself."

 

His cool impudence made Andy angry, and he brought down the whip

forcibly on the horse's back.

 

Naturally the animal started, and nearly tore himself from the grasp of

the tramp.

 

"So that is your game," said the fellow between his closed teeth. "If

you try that again I'll pull you out of the buggy and give you such a

beating as you never had before."

 

Andy remained cool and self-possessed. To carry out his threat the tramp

would have to let go of the bridle, and in that case Andy determined to

put his horse to his paces.

 

The tramp relaxed his hold and the horse stood stock-still, finding his

attempt to get away futile.

 

"Well," said the tramp, "you didn't make much by that move, did you?"

 

"Did you make any more?"

 

"By Jove! you're a cool kid. But, after all, you're only a kid. Now, do

as I tell you."

 

"What is that?"

 

"Put your hand in your pocket and take out fifty dollars. You've got as

much, haven't you?"

 

"Yes."

 

"That's right. Speak the truth. You may have more, but fifty'll do me."

 

"Do you expect me to give you fifty dollars?"

 

"Yes, I do."

 

"I don't mean to do it."

 

Andy had satisfied himself that the tramp had no weapon, and this

encouraged him. He could not hold the horse and attack him at one and

the same time, but with a revolver he would have been at his mercy.

 

Besides, Andy's ears were keen, and he thought he heard the sound of

wheels behind him. The tramp's attention was too much occupied, and

perhaps his hearing was too dull to catch the sounds, as yet faint.

 

Thus it was that the other team was almost upon them before the tramp

was aware of it. The newcomer was Saul Wheelock, a blacksmith, a strong,

powerful man, fully six feet in height, and with muscles of steel.

 

He had seen the buggy standing still on the highway, and he could not

understand the cause until he got near enough to see the tramp at the

horse's head.

 

He sprang from the wagon he was driving, and before the vagabond was

fully sensible of his danger he had him by the coat collar.

 

"What are you about?" he demanded, giving him a rough shake.

 

The tramp, turning, found he was in the hands of a man whom he was

compelled to respect. He cared nothing for rank or learning, but

physical force held him in awe.

 

He stood mute, unprepared, with an excuse.

 

"Why, it's you, Andy!" said the blacksmith. "Why did this rascal stop

you?"

 

"He wants me to give him money. I've just been to the bank in Benton to

draw out some for Mr. Gale at the hotel."

 

"Why, you scoundrel!" exclaimed the indignant blacksmith, shaking the

tramp till his teeth chattered. "So you're a thief, are you?"

 

"Let me go!" whined the tramp. "I haven't taken anything. I'm a poor,

unfortunate man. If I could get any work to do I wouldn't have been

driven to this."

 

"No doubt you're a church member," said the blacksmith, in a sarcastic

tone.

 

"Let me go! I'll promise to lead a good life. This young man says he'll

give me two dollars. I'll take it and go."

 

"Don't give him a cent, Andy. You can go, but I'll give you something to

remember me by."

 

He gave the tramp a vigorous kick that nearly prostrated him, and then,

getting into his wagon, said:

 

"I'll keep along with you, Andy. I don't think you'll have any more

trouble."

 

The tramp slunk into the woods, baffled and disappointed. If looks could

have annihilated the sturdy blacksmith, his span of life would have been

brief.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER IX.

 

CONRAD'S SCHEME.

 

 

When Andy told Mr. Gale the story of his adventures on the trip to

Benton, he received cordial congratulations on his courage.

 

"You have shown a great deal of pluck, Andy," he said. "The next time

you have occasion to go over to the bank for me I will accompany you.

Now, if you are not too tired, I want you to go down to the pond. I have

something to show you."

 

They walked side by side till they reached the pond.

 

Andy's curiosity was not specially excited. He talked with Mr. Gale on

different topics, and had hardly time to consider what it was he was to

see. But when he reached the boathouse he saw floating at the small pier

an elegant rowboat, built of cedar, and much handsomer than either

Conrad's or Valentine's.

 

"Oh, what a beauty!" he exclaimed.

 

"Yes," said Mr. Gale, quietly; "you will have quite the best boat on the

pond."

 

"I?" exclaimed Andy, in surprise.

 

"Yes, for the boat is yours."

 

"But I don't understand," stammered Andy.

 

"It is plain enough," said Walter Gale, with a pleasant smile. "The boat

is yours. I give it to you."

 

"How can I thank you?" exclaimed Andy, grasping his friend's hand. "I

can't believe that this beautiful boat is mine."

 

"You will realize it after a while. Let me tell you how I got it. It was

built for a rich young man in New York, one of the Four Hundred, I

believe, but as he received an unexpected invitation to go abroad for

two years, he authorized the builder to sell it for him at a

considerable reduction from the price he paid. So it happens that I was

able to secure it for you. Now let us go out for a row. It will be the trial trip."