Grit or The Young Boatman of Pine Point 32
"Grit Morris!" exclaimed Carver, in genuine surprise.
"Yes, didn't you know he had been to Boston?"
"No; what business had he in Boston?" asked the messenger.
"None of his own," answered Phil significantly.
"Did any one send him?"
"You had better ask Mr. Graves," said Phil, telling more than he
intended to.
"Why didn't Mr. Graves get me to attend to his business?" asked Carver,
still in the dark.
"I didn't say Graves had any business of his own. He is president of the
bank, you know."
"But I attend to the bank business. I am the messenger."
"Perhaps you don't attend to all of it," said Phil, telling considerably
more than he intended when the conversation commenced.
"Tell me what you know, Phil, about this matter. It is important for me
to know," said Carver coaxingly. "I know you don't like Grit, neither do
I. If he is trying to curry favor with Mr. Graves, I want to know it, so
as to circumvent him."
Before Phil quite knew what he was saying, he had revealed everything to
Carver, adding that Grit was after his place.
The bank messenger now understood why the package entrusted to him was a
dummy, and who carried the real package. He lost no time in sending
information to Colonel Johnson, in Portland.
The gentleman was very much excited when he learned in what way he had
been circumvented.
"So it was a boy, was it?" he said savagely. "That boy must be looked
after. He may find that he has made a mistake in meddling with affairs
that don't concern him."
CHAPTER XXXI.
NEW PLANS.
When Grit returned he found his mother naturally curious to know where
he had been and on what errand.
"I should like to tell you everything, mother," he said, "but it may not
be prudent just yet."
"It's nothing wrong, I hope, Grit?"
"You may be sure of that, mother; I wouldn't engage in anything that I
thought wrong. I feel justified in telling you confidentially that I was
sent by Mr. Graves."
"What! the president of the bank?"
"Yes."
"Then it's all right," said Mrs. Brandon, with an air of relief.
"My time wasn't wasted, mother," said Grit cheerfully, as he displayed a
ten-dollar note, new and crisp, which Mr. Graves had given him, besides
paying the expenses of his trip. "I've only been gone two days, and ten
dollars will pay me very well. It's better than boating, at any rate."
"Yes, but it isn't a steady employment."
"No; don't suppose I have any idea of giving up boating, because I have
been paid five dollars a day for my trip. It's a help, though."
"Did you see anything of Mr. Brandon while you were gone?" asked his
mother apprehensively.
"No, mother. I can't say I was disappointed, either."
"When he went away he spoke mysteriously of some good fortune that was
coming to him. He expected to earn a large sum of money, and talked of
going to Europe."
"He is welcome to do so," said Grit, smiling. "I hope he will, and then
we can resume our old life. I tell you, mother, I feel more sure than
ever of getting along. I am certain I can earn considerably more next
year than I have ever done before," and the boy's cheeks glowed and his
eyes sparkled with cheerful hope.
"I am sure you deserve to, Grit, for you've always been a good son."
"I ought to be, for I've got a good mother," said the boy, with a glance
of affection at his mother.
"He pays me for all," thought Mrs. Brandon, as she watched with pride
and a mother's love the form of her boy as he walked down to the river.
"As long as he lives, I have reason to be grateful to God. Mr. Brandon
is a heavy cross to me, but I can bear it while I have Grit."
Mr. Brandon, however, did not show himself. He was at Portland, subject
to the orders of Colonel Johnson, who thought it not prudent that he or
Travers should return just at present, lest, under the influence of
liquor, they might become talkative and betray more than he desired.
It was at this point that he learned from Ephraim Carver that Grit had
been sent to Boston in the place of the regular bank messenger.
"It looks as if somebody suspected something," he reflected anxiously.
"Is it possible that any part of our plan has leaked out? And if so,
how? Then why should a boy like that be selected for so responsible a
duty? He must have had some agency in the discovery. Ha! I have it! He
is the stepson of this Brandon. I must question Brandon."
"Brandon," he said abruptly, summoning that worthy to his presence, "you
have a son named Grit, have you not?"
"Yes--curse the brat!" answered Brandon, in a tone by no means paternal.
"What kind of a boy is he?"
"Impudent and undutiful," said Brandon. "He doesn't treat me with any
kind of respect."
"I don't blame him for that," thought Johnson, surveying his instrument
with a glance that did not indicate the highest esteem.
"Did you tell him anything of our plans?" he asked searchingly.
"Tell him! He's the last person I'd tell!" returned Brandon, with
emphasis.
"He didn't overhear you and Travers speaking of the matter, did he?"
"Certainly not. What makes you ask me that, colonel?"
"Because it was he who carried the genuine package of bonds to
Boston--that's all."
"Grit--carried--the bonds!" Brandon ejaculated, in amazement.
"Yes."
"How did you find out?"
"Carver found out. I have just had a despatch from him."
"Well, that beats me!" muttered Brandon. "I can't understand it at all."
"It looks as if Carver were distrusted. I shall find out presently. In
the meanwhile, I must see that boy of yours."
"I'll go and bring him here," said Brandon.
"Don't trouble yourself. I can manage the matter better by myself. I
shall go to Boston this afternoon."
"Are Travers and I to go, too?"
"No; you can stay here. I'll direct you to a cheap boarding-house, where
you can await my orders. I may take Travers with me."
This arrangement did not suit Brandon very well, though it might had he
been entrusted with a liberal sum of money. But Colonel Johnson, having
lost the valuable prize for which he had striven, was in no mood to be
generous. He agreed to be responsible for Brandon's board, but only gave
him two dollars for outside expenses, thus enforcing a degree of
temperance which was very disagreeable to Brandon.
CHAPTER XXXII.
GRIT RECEIVES A BUSINESS LETTER.
Grit returned to his old business, but I am obliged to confess that he
was not as well contented with it as he had been a week previous. The
incidents of the past four days had broadened his views, and given him
thoughts of a career which would suit him better. He earned a dollar and
a quarter during the day, and this made a very good average. Multiply it
by six, and it stood for an income of seven dollars and a half per
week. This, to be sure, was not a large sum, but it was quite sufficient
to maintain the little household in a degree of comfort which left
nothing to be desired.
"It's all very well now," thought Grit, "but it won't lead to anything.
I'm so old now"--he was not quite sixteen--"that I ought to be getting
hold of some business that I can follow when I am a man. I don't mean to
be a boatman when I am twenty-five years old."
댓글 없음:
댓글 쓰기