Digging for Gold 6

Digging for Gold 6

“Of course I do.”

 

“And what excuse have you?”

 

“Do you expect me to work _all_ the time?”

 

“I expect you to earn your board and clothes.”

 

“I earn them both, and more too, but I don’t get the clothes.”

 

“Hey? Oh, I see. You loitered because I wouldn’t buy you a suit of

clothes,” snarled Seth.

 

“You can take it that way if you want to,” said Grant.

 

“What’s got into you, Grant Colburn? ’Pears to me you are mighty

independent all at once.”

 

“That’s the way I feel.”

 

“You seem to forget that but for me you wouldn’t have a home.”

 

“When you get tired of providing me with a home, Mr. Tarbox, I will find

one somewhere else.”

 

“So you think, but if you leave my home you’ll become a poor tramp.”

 

Rodney laughed.

 

“I guess you’re right, grandfather,” he said.

 

Grant darted a look at him which showed that he understood the nature of

his feelings.

 

“Well,” he said, “I’ll take the risk.”

 

“I don’t take back the offer of a suit of clothes, Grant,” said Rodney

smoothly. “I’ll bring ’em over the next time I come.”

 

“Yes, do, Rodney,” put in his grandfather.

 

“You needn’t take the trouble, Rodney,” said Grant. “I shan’t wear the

suit if you bring it.”

 

“I suppose you expect I’ll buy you a new one,” sneered Seth Tarbox.

 

“No, I don’t.”

 

“Then you are content to go as you are?”

 

“No, I shall have a new suit in a few days, if I have to pay for it

myself.”

 

“You’re welcome to do that,” responded Seth in a tone of satisfaction,

for he concluded that Grant’s mother would pay the bill, and that suited

him.

 

No more was said to Grant on the subject of his delay in returning from

the other farm. He had occasion a little later to go on an errand, and

called at the village tailor’s.

 

“Mr. Shick,” he said, “I want you to make me up a good serviceable suit.

How much will it cost?”

 

“It depends on the cloth, Grant. Here is a remnant that will wear like

iron. I can make it up in two styles, according to the trimmings,

seventeen dollars or twenty.”

 

“I want a good suit, and will pay twenty.”

 

The tailor was rather surprised, for he knew that Grant’s step-father

was a thoroughly mean man.

 

“Mr. Tarbox is getting liberal, isn’t he?” he inquired. “That’s more

than he pays for his own suits.”

 

“He isn’t going to pay for mine.”

 

“Oh, it’s your mother, then.”

 

“No, I shall pay for it myself.”

 

“Will it be cash down?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I am glad you are so well off, Grant,” said Mr. Shick, puzzled.

 

“So am I. You may rest assured that you won’t have to wait for your

money.”

 

“Then I’ll do a good job. You shall have as nice a suit as any boy in

the village. You deserve it, too, Grant, for you’re a hard-working boy.”

 

“Just say that to Mr. Tarbox when you meet him,” said Grant, smiling,

“for I am afraid he doesn’t fully appreciate me.”

 

As Grant left the tailor’s shop he met Rodney at the door. Rodney found

the farm rather a slow place, and had made a second visit to the

village.

 

“Hallo,” he exclaimed, “have you been into the tailor’s?”

 

“Yes,”

 

“I suppose you had business there.”

 

“I had.”

 

“What was it?”

 

“You can ask Mr. Shick, if you like. I’m in a hurry.”

 

Rodney decided to act on this suggestion.

 

“How do you do, Mr. Shick?” he said politely, for he wanted to get some

information. “I see Grant has just been in here.”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Are you going to make him a suit?”

 

“Yes.”

 

Rodney was surprised.

 

“Would you mind showing me the cloth?” he asked. “I might like to get a

suit myself.”

 

“I shall be happy to fill your order. This is the cloth.”

 

“It looks pretty good.”

 

“Yes, it is of excellent quality.”

 

“How much do you charge for a suit off this cloth?”

 

“Twenty dollars is what I charged Grant.”

 

It must be explained that Shick, being in the country, was obliged to

put his prices a good deal lower for the same article than if he lived

in the city.

 

“Well, I hope you’ll get your pay,” said Rodney shortly.

 

“I shan’t trouble myself about that. Grant is an honest boy.”

 

“Well, I’m glad you feel so confident.”

 

Rodney left the shop abruptly, and, going into the street, came face to

face with his grandfather.

 

“Grandfather,” he said, “I’ve got some news for you.”

 

“Have you, Rodney? What is it?”

 

“Grant has ordered a suit of Mr. Shick, for which the price is twenty

dollars.”

 

“You don’t mean it?” ejaculated the farmer.

 

“Yes, I do. I suppose the bill will be sent to you,” added Rodney,

desirous of making trouble.

 

“I won’t pay it!” exclaimed Seth Tarbox excitedly.

 

“You’d better see Mr. Shick about it.”

 

Seth Tarbox entered the shop, looking flurried.

 

“Is it true, Mr. Shick,” he said abruptly, “that Grant has ordered a

twenty-dollar suit of you?”

 

“Yes, Mr. Tarbox.”

 

“If you expect me to pay for it, you’ll be disappointed. Did Grant tell

you to charge it to me?”

 

“No; he said he would pay for it himself.”

 

“I suppose he expects to get the money out of his mother,” continued Mr.

Tarbox, feeling somewhat relieved. “It will be a shame to make her pay

so much. Why, I don’t pay that for my own suits.”

 

“Why don’t you?” asked the tailor bluntly. “You can afford it.”

 

“I don’t believe in throwing away money,” answered Seth shortly.

 

“You wouldn’t. This suit of Grant’s will wear like iron.”

 

“It’s all foolish extravagance. Rodney, my grandson, offered to give him

one of his old cast-off suits.”

 

Mr. Shick smiled.

 

“Probably Grant thought he would prefer a new one.”

 

“But it’s wasteful extravagance.”

 

“Mr. Tarbox, you need a new suit yourself. You’d better let me make you

one. You don’t want your step-son to outshine you.”

 

“I’ll see about it. I can make the old one do a little longer.”