Luck and Pluck 23

Luck and Pluck 23

John was not long in guessing the truth. Mr. Huxter was determined that

he should not communicate with any one in Hampton, and had recalled the

letter. No doubt he had given instructions to the postmaster, which

would make it impossible for John to post any letters in future in the

village.

 

"I am very glad to know this," thought John; "I shall know better how

to act."

 

He put the letter in his pocket, and kept on his way, determined to

keep his discovery to himself. He began to see what sort of man he had

to deal with.

 

 

 

 

CHAPTER XVII.

 

A NEW ACQUAINTANCE.

 

 

Twelve o'clock was the dinner hour at Mr. Huxter's. John and he met

once more, but the dispute between them was not renewed. John was

deliberating as to what course he should pursue. Mr. Huxter was

secretly exulting in having defeated John's attempt to communicate with

his friends, little suspecting that John knew all about it. So on the

whole he was pleasanter than usual, and allowed his young guest to eat

in peace. Mrs. Huxter was glad to notice this change in his conduct,

though she hardly dared to hope that it would continue.

 

"So you took a walk this morning, Oakley?" said Mr. Huxter.

 

"Yes, sir."

 

"Where did you go?"

 

"I went to the top of the hill behind the tavern."

 

"How do you like our village?"

 

"I can't tell yet. I haven't got sufficiently acquainted."

 

"You'll have chance enough before you get through," said Mr. Huxter,

significantly.

 

John understood this very well; but did not see fit to show that he did

so. He did not wish to provoke a quarrel.

 

"I am going to write to my sister this afternoon," said Mr. Huxter.

"Perhaps you'd like to send a message."

 

"Thank you," said John; "I don't think of any message just at present."

 

"You wouldn't like to send your love to Ben, would you?" asked Mr.

Huxter, jocosely.

 

"I don't think I should," said John, quietly.

 

"There isn't much love lost between you two, I reckon."

 

"We are not very good friends," said John, in the same quiet tone.

 

"I'm sure it's no wonder," said Mrs. Huxter; "Ben was always a

troublesome, headstrong boy."

 

"Let me tell you, Mrs. Huxter," said her husband, sharply, "it doesn't

look very well in you to run down your own relations."

 

Mrs. Huxter thought it prudent not to reply.

 

"Let me see," said Mr. Huxter, as they rose from the table, "it's

Friday,--too late in the week to begin anything. You shall have till

Monday morning to look about you, and then we'll see if we can't find

something for you to do."

 

Here was a disclosure for John. He had understood that he was to board

with Mr. Huxter. Now it appeared that the latter intended to set him to

work. Had he any authority for doing so, and what was John's duty under

the circumstances. He wished earnestly that he were able to consult

Squire Selwyn without delay, and this reminded him that his letter had

not yet gone. It would be useless to leave it again at the village

post-office. It must go from some other. John had all the afternoon

before him, and if the next town were not too far off, he determined to

walk over and post his letter there. Not wishing Mr. Huxter to have any

clue to his plans, he decided to obtain the necessary information, not

from Mrs. Huxter, though he did not doubt her willingness to give it,

but from some other person.

 

He went out into the road, and began to walk slowly in a direction

opposite to that which he had taken in the morning. It was the stage

road he knew, and was probably the most direct route to the next town.

 

Our hero had walked about three-quarters of a mile, when he heard a

loud clattering sound behind him. Turning around, he saw a farm-wagon,

driven by a boy of about his own age. It was but little past noon,

and the walk which might be a long one was sure to be a hot one. As

the boy-driver appeared to be alone, and there was plenty of room for

another, John hailed him.

 

"Hallo!" he called out. "Hold on a minute."

 

"Whoa!" shouted the boy, and brought his horse to a stop.

 

"Are you going to the next village?" inquired John.

 

"To Milbank, you mean?"

 

"Yes," said John, who was not quite sure whether he meant it or not,

but was willing to take the risk.

 

"Yes, I'm going there. Don't you want a ride?"

 

"That's just what I was going to ask. I'm willing to pay for it."

 

"I don't want any pay," said the boy; "I'd rather have company than go

alone."

 

"How far is Milbank?"

 

"It's a pretty good piece,--most five miles."

 

John was glad he had not attempted to walk.

 

"You don't live round here, do you?" asked John's new acquaintance.

 

"No."

 

"I thought I hadn't seen you. Whereabouts are you stayin'?"

 

[Illustration]

 

"At Mr. Huxter's."

 

"Is he a relation of yours?" asked the boy, looking at John with

interest.

 

"No, he isn't," said John, hastily, unwilling for a moment to have it

supposed that there was any such tie between him and his temporary host.

 

"Are you going to stay long?"

 

John was not surprised at these questions, for in the country, where

he had always lived, it was the rule to be inquisitive about other

people's affairs, and he felt that he ought to make some return for his

ride.

 

"I don't think I shall," he said.

 

He would like to have replied decidedly in the negative; but he felt

that he was by no means certain about the length of his stay.

 

"How do you like Huxter?" asked his new acquaintance, with rather a

comical look.

 

"I've seen men I liked better," said John, smiling.

 

"Shouldn't wonder," said the other. "He gets awful tight sometimes."

 

"It is a pity," said John, "for Mrs. Huxter seems to be a good sort of

a woman, and it must be hard on her."

 

"It would be hard for any woman to have such a husband. I don't know

Mrs. Huxter much, but I never heard anything against her. I've a great

mind to tell you," said the boy, looking at John to judge whether he

appeared as if he might be trusted with a secret, "a trick that one or

two of the fellows played on Mr. Huxter once when he was drunk. But

you'll be sure not to tell?"

 

John, whose curiosity was somewhat excited, gave the required promise.

 

"You see," continued his informant, "I was walking along with George

Sprague one afternoon, when we came across old Huxter lying side of the

road as drunk as he could be. George is rather a wild boy, and always

up to some mischief or other. That afternoon he happened to have a

little red paint, which he had got at the painter's shop for his father

to use. As soon as we saw old Huxter snoring away, George winked to me,

and said, 'Huxter's nose is red, but I've a great mind to make it a

little redder. I should like to see how the old fellow will look.' With

that he took out his brush, and touched Huxter's nose with it lightly,

making it as red as a brick. I was afraid he would wake up and chase

us, for he's pretty violent when he's drunk; but he was too far gone,

and never stirred. George took the paint home, and then we came out to

see if Huxter had gone home. We found he had, and we afterwards heard

how the trick came out."

 

[Illustration]

 

"When he got home and went into the kitchen, Mrs. Huxter screamed as

soon as she saw him.

 

"'What's the matter with you?' he growled.

 

"'O Mr. Huxter!' she said, clasping her hands, 'I knew that drinking

would be the ruin of you.'

 

"'Then you're a fool,' he said. 'Drinking a little now and then don't

do me any harm; but you're a woman, and have no more sense than a

kitten.'

 

"'You don't believe me, look at your nose,' said his wife.

 

"'What's the matter with my nose?' asked old Huxter, a little surprised.

 

"'Look at it, and you won't be surprised at my words.'