Grit or The Young Boatman of Pine Point 21
As I have said, Travers approached the little cottage with cautious
steps. Drawing near, he listened to see if he could hear any sound of
voices that would betray the presence of the boy he wished to avoid.
All was still. Nothing was to be heard but the deep breathing of
Brandon, who still lay on the floor in a stupor. Grit was back at his
boat, and Mrs. Brandon had already left the house and gone to spend the
remainder of the afternoon with her neighbor. Brandon was, therefore,
the only occupant of the cottage.
"I hear my friend Brandon," said Travers to himself. "I can hear nothing
of the boy. He must be away."
By way of ascertaining definitely, Travers moved round to the window and
peered in. He caught sight of the prostrate figure of Brandon, but could
see no one else.
"It's all right," he said to himself, in a satisfied tone.
He tried the door, and found it unlocked.
He entered, and stooping over, seized Brandon by the shoulder, and
called him loudly by name.
"I say, Brandon, wake up!"
"Go away, Grit," said Brandon drowsily.
"It isn't Grit. It's I--your friend Travers," said that gentleman.
"Thought my friend Travers was gone," muttered Brandon, opening his
eyes.
"So I did go, but I've come back. I want to see you on important
business."
"'Portant business?" repeated Brandon.
"Yes, very important business. Do you want to earn five thousand
dollars?"
"Five thousand dollars!" said Brandon, roused by this startling inquiry.
"'Course I do."
"Then rouse yourself, and I'll tell you all about it. Here, let me bring
you some water, and you can dip your face in it. It will bring you to
yourself sooner than anything else."
Brandon acceded to the proposal, and was soon in a clearer state of
mind.
Travers proceeded to unfold his plan, after learning that Mrs. Brandon
was out; but he had a listener he did not know of. Grit had come home
for something he had forgotten, and, with his ear to the keyhole, heard
the whole plot. He listened attentively. When all was told, he said to
himself:
"I'll foil them, or my name isn't Grit!"
CHAPTER XXI.
MR. BRANDON LOSES HIS SUPPER.
When Brandon and Travers had discussed the plan, and decided to accept
the terms offered by Colonel Johnson, the latter, looking cautiously
about, inquired:
"Where's the boy?"
"Out with the boat, I expect," said Brandon.
"He's a little ruffian. I never saw such a desperate boy of his age."
"He managed you neatly," said Brandon, with a smile.
"Pooh!" returned Travers, who did not like the allusion. "I didn't want
to hurt the boy."
"He didn't want to harm you," said Brandon, with an exasperating smile.
"I could wind him round my finger," said Travers disdainfully. "You
don't think I'm afraid of that half-grown cub, I hope."
Grit heard this, and smiled to himself at the evident annoyance of
Travers.
"As to winding me round his finger," thought the young boatman, "I may
have something to say about that."
Brandon did not continue his raillery, not wishing to provoke the
friend who had secured him participation in so profitable a job.
"Where's the old lady?" asked Travers, with a glance toward the
staircase.
"I believe she's gone out, but I'll see."
Brandon went to the foot of the stairs, and called:
"Mrs. B.!"
There was no response.
"Yes, she's gone, and the coast is clear. Where are you staying,
Travers?"
"I s'pose I'll have to stay at the hotel, unless you can provide for me
here."
"You'd better go to the tavern, for there might be trouble about keepin'
you here. Mrs. B. and the boy don't like you."
"I thought you were master of the house," said Travers, with mild
sarcasm.
"So I am," answered Brandon, a little embarrassed, "but I don't want to
be in hot water all the time."
"You don't want me to stay to supper, I reckon."
"Well, I guess not to-night. Fact is, I don't know when we shall have
supper. Mrs. B. ought to be here gettin' it ready."
"Come out and have a walk, Brandon. I will introduce you to Colonel
Johnson, and we can talk this thing over."
"All right. That'll take up the time till supper."
The two men walked over to the tavern, and Colonel Johnson walked out
with them. They had a conference together, but it is not necessary to
give the details here.
A little after six o'clock Brandon directed his steps homeward.
"I'll be a little late to supper," he said to himself, "but Mrs. B. will
save some for me. I feel confoundedly hungry. Must be in the air.
There's nothing like country air to give a man a good appetite."
Brandon opened the door of the cottage, and went in. All was quiet and
solitary, as he had left it.
"Well. I'll be blowed!" he ejaculated. "What does all this mean? Where's
Mrs. B., and where's supper?"
He sat down, and looked about him in surprise and bewilderment.
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