Try and trust, or, Abner Holden's bound boy

Front matter

TRY AND TRUST.

CHAPTER L

AROUND THE BREAKFAST TABLE.

Chapter II. Introducing The Hero

If my young readers do not find the town of Waverley on the map of Ohio, they may conclude that it was too small to attract the notice of the map-makers. The village is small, consisting of about a dozen houses, a church, a schoolhouse, and, as a matter of course, one of that well-known class of stores in which everything required for the family is sold, from a dress-pattern to a pound of sugar. Outside of the village there are farmhouses, surrounded by broad acres, which kept them at respectable distance from each other, like the feudal castles of the Middle Ages. The land is good, and the farmers are thrifty and well-to-do; Tjut probably the whole town contains less Than a thousand inhabitants.

In one of the houses, near the church, lived Dr. Kent, whose letter has already been referred to. He was a skilful physician, and a very worthy man, who would have been very glad to be benevolent if his limited practice had supplied him with the requisite means. But chance had directed him to a healthv and sparsely settled neighborhood, where he was able only to earn a respectable livelihood, and indeed found himself compelled to economize at times where he would have liked to indulge himself in expense.

When Mrs. Mason died it was found that the sale of her furniture barely realized enough to defray the expense of her funeral. Herbert, her only son, was left wholly unprovided for. Dr. Kent, knowing that he had a rich uncle in

New York, undertook to communicate to him the position in which his nephew had been left, never doubting that he would cheerfully extend a helping hand to him. Meanwhile he invited Herbert to come to his house, and make it his home till his uncle should send for him.

Herbert was a handsome, well-grown boy of fourteen, and a general favorite in the village. While his mother lived he had done all he could to lighten her tasks, and he grieved deeply for her loss now that she was gone. His father had ten years before failed in business in the city of New York, and, in a fit of depression, had emigrated to this obscure country village, where he had invested the few hundred dollars remaining to him in a farm, from which he was able to draw a scanty income. Being a man of liberal education, he had personally superintended the education of his son till his death, two years before, so that Herbert's attainments were considerably in advance of those of other boys of his age in the neighborhood. He knew something of Latin and French, which made him looked upon as quite a model of learning by his playmates. After his father's death he had continued the daily study of the languages, so that he was able to read ordinary French with nearly as much ease as if it were Englisli. Though studious, he was not a bookworm, but was distinguished in athletic sports popular with boys of his age.

Enough has been said of our hero by way of introduction. Herbert's faults and virtues will appear as the record of his adventures is continued. It may be hinted only that, while he was frank, manly and generous in his disposition, he was proud and high-spirited also, and perhaps these qualities were sometimes carried to excess. He would not allow himself to be imposed upon if he could help it. Being strong for his age, he was always able to maintain his rights, but never abused his strength by making it the instrument of tyrannizing over weaker boys.

Of course Herbert felt somewhat anxious as to his future prospects. He knew that the doctor had written to his uncle Benjamin about him, and he hoped that he might be sent for to New York, having a great curiosity to see the city, of which he had heard so much.

" Have you heard from my uncle, Dr. Kent?" he inquired, a few days after the scene recorded in our first chapter.

His question was prompted by seeing the doctor coming into the yard with an open letter in his hand.

" Yes," said Dr. Kent, with troubled expression and perplexed look.

" What does Uncle Benjamin say? " asked our young hero, eagerly.

" Nothing very encouraging, Herbert, I am sorry to say," returned the doctor. " However, here is the letter; you may read it for yourself."

Herbert received the letter from the doctor's hands, and read it with feelings of mortification and anger.

Here it is :

Dear Sir: — I have to acknowledge yours of the 10th inst. I regret to hear of my sister's decease. I regret, also, to hear that her son Herbert is left without a provision for his support. My brother-in-law I cannot but consider culpable in neglecting to lay up something during his life upon which his widow and son might depend. I suspect that he must have lived with inconsiderate extravagance.

As for myself, I have a family of my own to provide for, and the expense of living in a city like this is very great. In justice to them, I do not feel that it would be right for me to incur extra expense. You tell me that he is now fourteen and a stout boy. He is able, I should think, to earn his own living. I should recommend that he be bound out to a farmer or mechanic. To defray any little expenses that may arise, I enclose ten dollars, which I hope he may find serviceable.

Yours, etc., Benjamin Stanton.

This cold and selfish letter Herbert read with rising color, and a feeling of bitterness found a place in his young heart, which was quite foreign to him.

" Well, Herbert, what do you think of it? " asked the doctor.

" I fthink,'' said Herbert, hotly, " that T don't want to have anything to do with an uncle who could write such a letter as that."

" He doesn't seem to write with much feeling," acknowledged the doctor.

" Feeling ! " repeated Herbert ; " he writes as if I were a beggar, and asked charity. Where is the money he enclosed. Dr. Kent? "

" I have it here in my vest pocket. I was afraid it would slip out of the letter, and so took care of it."

" Will you let me send it back to my uncle? '' asked Herbert.

"Send it back?"

"Yes, Dr. Kent; I don't want any of his charity, and I'll tell him so."

" I am afraid, Herbert, that you are giving way to your pride."

" But isn't it a proper pride, doctor? ''

" I hardly know what to say, Herbert. You must remember, however, that, as you are left quite unprovided for, even this small sum may be of use to you.''

" It isn't the smallness of the sum that I mind," said Herbert. " If Uncle Benjamin had written a kind letter, or showed the least feeling in it for me, or for — for mother (his voice faltered a moment), I would have accepted it thankfully. But I couldn't accept money thrown at me in that way. He didn't want to give it to me, I am sure, and wouldn't if he hadn't felt obliged to."

Dr. Kent paced the room thoughtfully. He respected Herbert's feelings, but he saw that it was not wise for him to indulge them. He was in a dependent situation, and it was to be feared that he would have much to suffer in time to come from the coldness and selfishness of the world.

" I will tell you what to do, Herbert," he said, after a while. " You can accept this money as a loan, and repay it when you are able."

"With interest?"

'^ Yes, with interest, if you prefer it."

" I shall be willing to accept it on those

Try and Trust. ig

terms," said Herbert ; " but I want my uncle to understand it.''

" You may write to your uncle to that effect, if you like.''

" Very well, Dr. Kent. Then I will write at once."

^' You will find some paper in my desk, Herbert. I suppose you will not object to my seeing your letter."

^^ No, doctor, I intended to show it to you. You won't expect me to show much gratitude, I hope?"

" I won't insist upon it, Herbert," said the doctor, smiling.

Herbert in about half an hour submitted the following note to the doctor's inspection. It had cost him considerable thought to determine how to express himself, but he succeeded at last to his tolerable satisfaction.

" Uncle Benjamin," so the letter commenced, " Dr. Kent has just shown me your reply to his letter about me. You seem to think I wish you to support me, which is not the case. All I should have asked was your influence to help me in obtaining a situation in the city, where I might support myself. I am willing to work, and shall probably find some opportunity here. The ten dollars which you enclose I will accept as a loan, and will repay you as soon as I am able, with interest,

" Herbert Mason."

. "Will that do?'' asked Herbert.

Dr. Kent smiled.

" You were careful not to express any gratitude, Herbert," he said.

" Because I didn't feel any," returned Herbert promptly. " I feel grateful to you. Dr. Kent, for your great kindness. I wish I could pay you for that. I shall never forget how you attended my mother in her sickness when there was small prospect of your being paid."

" My dear boy," said the doctor, resting his hand affectionately on Herbert's shoulder, " I have been able to do but very little. I wish I could do more. If you wish to repay me, you can do it a hundred times over by growing up a good and honorable man ; one upon whom your mother in heaven can look down with grateful joy, if it is permitted her to watch your progress here."

" I will do my best, doctor," said Herbert, much moved.

" The wrrld is all before you," proceeded Dr. Kent. " You may not achieve a brilliant destiny. It is permitted to few to do that.

But whether your sphere is wide or narrow, you may exert an influence for good, and leave the ivorld better for your having lived in it.^^

" I hope it may be so,^' said Herbert, thoughtfully. " When I am tempted to do wrong, I will think of my mother."

" It is the very best thing you can do, Herbert. And now for your plans. I wish I were in a situation to have you remain with me. But as that cannot be, I will do my best to get you a place."

" I ought to be at work,'' said Herbert, " as I have my living to get. I want you to take that ten dollars, doctor, as part payment of the debt I owe you."

The doctor shook his head.

" I can't do that, Herbert, not even to oblige you. You were too proud to accept a favor from your uncle. You will not be too proud to accept one from me? "

" No, doctor, I am not too proud for that. You are my friend, and my uncle cares nothing for me."

When Herbert's letter reached New York his uncle felt a momentary shame, for he saw that his nephew had rightfully interpreted his own selfishness and lack of feeling, and he could not help involuntarily admiring the independent spirit which would not allow him to accept the proffered money except as a loan. But mingled with his shame was a feeling of relief, as he foresaw that Herbert's pride would not suffer him to become a burden upon him in the future. He hardly expected ever to see the ten dollars returned with interest ; but even if he lost it, he felt that he should be getting off cheap.

Chapter III. A Collision

It was a week later when an incident befell Herbert which is worthy of mention, since it brought him into collision with a man who was destined to have some influence over his future life.

A neighboring farmer, for whom, during his mother's life, he had occasionally gone on errands, drove up in front of the doctor's house, and asked Herbert if he could take his horse and wagon and drive over to the Mill village to get some corn ground. Herbert was rather glad to accept this proposal, not only because he was to receive twenty-five cents for so doing, but also because he was fond of driving a horse.

He was only about a mile from the Mill village, when he saw approaching him a man in a light open buggy. Herbert knew every horse in Waverley and every man, woman and child, for that matter, and he perceived at once that the driver was a stranger. To tell the truth, he was not very favorably impressed by his appearance. The man was very dark, with black hair and an unshaven beard of three days' growth, which did not set off his irregular and repulsive features. His mouth, partly open, revealed several yellow tusks, stained with tobacco juice. On his head he wore a broad-brimmed straw hat, rather the worse for wear.

It so happened that just at this point the middle of the road was much better than the sides, which sloped considerably, terminating in gullies which were partly full from the recent rains. The road was narrow, being wide enough for two vehicles to pass each other, if each veered to the side, but not otherwise.

Herbert observed that the buggy, which was now rapidly approaching, was kept in the center of the road, and that the driver appeared to have no intention of turning out.

"What does he mean?" thought our hero, " He cannot expect me to do the whole of the

-^ yea.

I^Trr

*T have already given vou half the road,'' said Herbert, lirmly, - and I don't intend to o;ive YOU anv more.

^ Vr ft

*' You don't, eh? Young man, how old are

vou? "

" I am fourteen."

" I should think vou ^ere fortv bv the airs

L «< ft

Tou put on."

'• Is it putting on airs to insist on mv rights?" asked our hero.

" Your rights I " retorted the other, laughing contemptuously.

•• Yes. my rights," returned Herbert, quietly. " I have a right to half the road, and I have taken it. If I turn out any more I shall go into the gully.''

'' That makes no difference, A fretting won't do you any harm. Your impudence needs cooling."

" That may be." said Herbert, who did not choose to get angry, but was resolved to maintain his rights : ** but I object to the wetting for all that, and as this wagon is not mine I do not choose to upset it."

*• You are the most insolent yoting scamp I ever came across," exclaimed the other, furiously. " I've a good mind to give you something worse than a wetting."

" Such as what? " asked our hero, coolly.

In reply the man flourished his whip significantly.

" Do you see that?" he asked.

" Oh, very well/' said the other, ironically, " I'm glad you do. Perhaps you wouldn't like to feel it."

" No, I don't think I should," said Herbert, not exhibiting the least apprehension.

The stranger handled his whip, eying our hero viciously at the same time, as if it would have afforded him uncommon pleasure to lay it over his back. But there was something in the look of our hero which unconsciously cowed him, and, much as he wished to strike him, he held back.

" Well, you've a cool hand," he said, after a moment's hesitation.

To this our hero did not see fit to m.ake any reply. But he grasped his own whip a little tighter. So brutal had been the tone assumed by the stranger that he was not sure but he might proceed to carry out his threat and lay the whip over his back. He determined, in that case, to give him as good as he sent. I will not express any opinion as to the propriety of this determination, but I am certain, from what I know of our hero's fearless spirit, that he would not have hesitated to do it, be the consequences what they might. But he did not have the opportunity.

" Once more/' demanded the stranger, furiously, ''are you going to turn out?''

" No," said the boy, decidedly.

" Then — I'll run you down."

So saying, he brought the whip violently on the horse's back. The latter gave a convulsive spring forward. But his driver had not taken into consideration that the farmwagon was the stronger of the two vehicles, and that in any collision the buggy must come off second best. So it happened that a wheel of the buggy was broken, and the driver, in the shock, thrown sprawling into a puddle on the other side of the road. The wagon suffered no damage, but the old horse, terrified, set off at a rapid pace. Herbert looked back to see if the stranger was injured, but seeing that he had already picked himself up unwounded, but decidedly dirty, he concluded to keep on his way to the mill.

The driver of the overturned vehicle was considerably more angry than hurt at this catastrophe»

It chafed his pride not a little to think that, after all his vaunts, the boy had maintained his ground and got the better of him. For a mai? of forty-five to be worsted by a boy of fourteen was, it must be confessed, a little mortifying. It was something like a great ship of the line being compelled to surrender to a little monitor.

No one feels particularly dignifiea or goodnatured when he is picking himself out of a mud puddle. Our black-haired acquaintance proved no exception to this remark. He shook his fist at the receding wagon and its occupant — a demonstration of defiance which our hero did not witness, his back being now turned to his late opponent,

Mr. Abner Holden — for this was the stranger's name — next turned his attention to the buggy, which had been damaged to some extent, and so was likely to involve him in expense. This was another uncomfortable reflection. Meanwhile, as it was no longer in a fit state for travel, he must contrive some way to have it carried back to the stable, and unless he could procure another vehicle, perform the rest of the journey on foot.

Luckily some men in a neighboring field had witnessed the collision, and, supposing their services might be required, were now present to lend their aid,

'' Pretty bad accident," remarked one of them. " That ere wheePll need considerable tinkering afore it's fit for use. How came you to get it broke so, squire? '^

*' A little rascal had the impudence to dispute the road with me, and would not turn out at my bidding," said Mr. Holden, in a tone of exasperation, which showed that his temper bad been considerably soured by the accident,

" Wouldn't turn out ? Seems to me from the marks of the wheels you must have been drivin' along in the middle of the road. I guess you didn't take the trouble to turn out yourself."

'' Well, there was room enough for the boy to turn out one side," said Holden, doggedly.

^^ You are slightly mistaken, stranger," said the other, who was disgusted at the traveler's unreasonableness. " There wasn't room ; as any one can see that's got eyes in his head Didn't the youngster turn out at all? '"

"Yes," snapped Holden, not relishing the other's free speecho

" Then it seems you were the one that wouldn't turn out. If you had been a leetle more accommodating, this accident couldn't have happened. Fair play's my motto. If a feller meets you halfway, it's all you have a right to expect. I reckon it'll cost you a matter of ten dollars to get that ere buggy fixed."

Holden looked savagely at the broken wheel, but that didn't mend matters. He would bave answered the countryman angrily, but as he stood in need of assistance this was not good policy.

" What would you advise me to do about it? " he inquired.

" You will have to leave the buggy where it is just now. Where did you get it?"

" Over at the Mill village.''

" Well, you'd better lead the horse back — 'taint more'n a mile or so — get another wagon, and tell 'em to send for this."

" Well, perhaps that is the best way."

*^ Where was you goin'?"

" Over to Waver ley."

" That's where the boy came from."

"What boy?"

" The boy that upset you."

" What is his name? " asked Abner Holden, scowling.

" His name is Herbert Mason, son of the Widder Mason that died two or three weeks since. Poor boy, he's left alone in the world."

" Where's he stopping? " asked Holden, hardly knowing why he asked the question.

" Dr. Kent took him in after the funeral, so I heard; but the selectmen of Waverley are trying to find him a place somewheres where he can earn his own livin'. He's a smart, capable boy, and I guess he can do most a man's work.^'

Abner Holden looked thoughtful. Some plan had suggested itself to him which appeared to yield him satisfaction, for he began to look decidedly more comfortable, and he muttered to himself. " I'll be even with him yet. See if I don^t.'^

" How far am I from Waverley? " he asked, after a slight pause.

" Well, risin' three miles/' drawled the other.

" If I could get somebody to go back with this horse, I don't know but I'd walk to Waverley. Are you very busy? "

" Well, I don't know but I could leave off for a short time," said the other, cautiously. "Works' pretty drivin', to be sure. What do you calc'late to pay? "

" How much would it be worth? "

" Well, there's the walk there and back, and then again there's the time."

" You can mount the horse going.'

" I guess fifty cents'll about pay me,"

Mr. Holden took out his pocketbook and

paid the required sum.

" By the way," he said, as if incidentally,

" who is the chairman of the selectmen in

Waverley? "

32 Try and Truste

"You ain't thinkin' of takin' that boy, be you ? " said the other, curiously.

" I've had enough to do with him ; I don't want ever to lay eyes on him again."

" Well, I dunno as I should, if I was you," said the countryman, rather slyly.

"You haven't answered my question yet,'' said Holden, impatiently.

" Oh, about the cheerman of the seleckmen. It's Captain Joseph Eoss."

" Where does he live? "

" A leetle this side of the village. You'll know the house well enough. It's a large, square house painted white, with a well-sweep in front."

Without a word of thanks for the information, Abner Holden turned, and began to walk towards Waverley. Perhaps his object in making these inquiries has been guessed. It happened that he needed a boy, and for more reasons than one he thought he should like to ^ave Herbert bound to him. Herbert, as he had noticed, was a stout boy, and he could probably get a good deal of work out of him. Then, again, it would be gratifying to him to have our hero in subjection to him. He could pay him off then, ten times over, for his insolence, as he chose to term it.

" I'll break his proud spirit," thought Abner

Holden. " He'll find he's got a master, if I get hold of him. He don't know me yet, but he will some time."

Mr, Holden resolved to wait on Captain Ross at once, and conclude arrangements with him to take Herbert before our hero had returned from the Mill village. He pictured, with a grim smile, Herbert's dismay when he learned who was to be his future master.

With the help of a handkerchief dipped into a crystal stream at the roadside, Abner Holden succeeded in effacing some of the muddy stains upon his coat and pantaloons, and at length got himself into presentable trim for calling upon a " seleckman."

At length he came in sight of the house which had been described to him as that of Captain Ross. There was a woman at the well-sweep engaged in drawing water.

^' Does Captain Ross live here? " he inquired.

" Yes, sir."

" Is he at home?"

" He's over in the three-acre lot. Was you wantin' to see him? "

" I should like to. Is the field far awav? "

" No, it's just behind the house."

" Then I guess I'll go and find him. I want to see him on a little matter of business."

34 Try and irust.

Mr. Hoiden crossed a mowing-field, and then, climbing over a stone wall, found himself at the edge of the three-acre lot. The captain was superintending one or two hired men, and, as he had his coat off, had probably been assisting them.

^^ Captain Koss? " said Abner Hoiden, interrogatively.

" That's my name."

" You are chairman of the selectmen, I believe?''

" Yes, sir."

" I understand that you have a boy that you want to bind out."

" I reckon you mean Herbert Mason."

" Yes, I believe that's the name I heard."

" Are you in want of a boy? "

" Yes, I am looking out for one."

" What is your business? "

" I keep a store, but I should want him to work on land part of the time."

" Do you live hereabouts?"

" Over at Cranston."

" If you'll come to the house, we'll talk the matter over. The boy's a good boy, and we want to get a good place for him. His mother was a widder, and he's her only son. He's ft smart, capable lad, and good to work."

" I've no doubt he will suit me. I'll take Lim on your recommendation."

" We should want him to go to school winters. He's a pretty good scholar already. His father was a learned man, and used to teach him before he died. If he had lived, I reckon Herbert would have gone to college.''

^^ I'll agree to send him to school in the winter for the next two years," said Holden, *^ and will give him board and clothes, and when he's twenty-one, a freedom suit and a hundred dollars. Will that do?"

" I don't know but that's reasonable," said Captain Ross, slowly. " The boy's a bit high-spirited, but if you manage him right I guess you'll like him."

^^ I'll manage him ! " thought Abner Holden. "Can I take him with me to-morrow?" he asked. " I don't come this way very often."

" Well, I guess that can be arranged. We'll go over to Dr. Kent's after dinner, and see if they can get him ready."

" In the meantime," said Holden, afraid that the prize might slip through his fingers, " suppose we make out the papers. I suppose you have full authority in the matter."

Captain Eoss had no objection, and thus poor Herbert was unconsciously delivered over to the tender mercies of a man who had very little love for him.

CHAPTER lY.

A DISAGREEABLE SURPRISE.

After his collison with the traveler, Herbert hurried on to the mill, intent upon making up for lost time. He was satisfied with having successfully maintained his rights ; and as he had no reason to suppose he should ever again see his unreasonable opponent, dismissed him from his thoughts.

On reaching the mill he found he should have to remain an hour or two before he could have his grain ground. He was not sorry for this, as it would give him an opportunity to walk around the village.

" I wish,'' he thought, " I could get a place in one of the stores here. There's more going on than there is in Waverley, and I could go over Sundays to see Dr. Kent's family."

On the spur of the moment he resolved to mquire if some of the storekeepers did not require help. There w^as a large dry goods store — the largest in the village— kept by Beckford & Keyes. He entered, and inquired for the senior partner.

" Mr. Beckford is not in," said the clerk, ^^ Mr. Keves is standins^ at that desk.'^

Try aiid Trust. 37

Herbert went up to the desk, and said inquiringly, " Mr. Keyes? '' .

" That is my name," said that gentleman, pleasantly. " Is there anything I can do for you?"

" I am in search of a place," said our hero, " and I thought you might have a vacancy here."

-' We have none just at present," said Mr. Keyes, who was favorably impressed by Herbert's appearance ; " but it is possible we may have in a few weeks. Where do you live? Not in the village, I suppose."