Budd Boyd's Triumph Part 25

Business, too, acc.u.mulated upon their hands. The notoriety they had achieved in capturing the burglars had made it quite the thing to patronize the young firm, and from every side there poured into them an increase of trade. The summer hotels along the bay found it quite to their interest to announce that the fish upon their tables came directly from the pounds of Boyd & Floyd. Sailing and fis.h.i.+ng-parties sought eagerly for the services of the lads and their sloop Sea Witch, that had such a romantic history. So night and day the young firm were busy, and their bank account grew apace.

But there was another work during these weeks that claimed Budd's attention. Believing that his father would prefer to come back to the island with him, and make a temporary home there until their plans for the future could be arranged, he spent all his spare moments in making his island home more attractive.

Mr. Johnson had on the day he had accompanied the lad up to the county jail returned to him the five hundred dollars he had paid that gentleman the previous March, and, along with that sum, its acc.u.mulated interest.

A portion of this money Budd now spent for carpets and furniture.

The bedroom down-stairs, and which he and Judd had always occupied, was refurnished expressly for Mr. Boyd. The furniture which had been in there was carried upstairs, where a room was fixed for the lads.

Another room upstairs was also furnished with a bedroom set, and it was Budd himself who gave a reason for doing it:

"It is for your father, Judd, when he comes from the State Farm. We'll bring him over here, where he'll be away from temptation, and try and make a man of him;" and Judd thanked his chum for the suggestion with glistening eyes.

Other arrangements were also made about the house and grounds, in which Budd was ably seconded by his partner, and on the October morning that the Governor's pardon came everything was in readiness for Mr. Boyd's coming.

That afternoon's train carried Budd to Boston. He arrived in the city too late to visit the prison that day, but having expected this, he was in no sense disappointed. In fact he had come to the city at this time purposely, for he had a few items of business to transact before he visited his father, and they could be attended to while he waited for the coming morning, which at the earliest possible hour he had determined should see his father's liberation. These items of business are of interest to us, and so we will follow him as he attends to them.

Hastening through to Was.h.i.+ngton Street with the pace of one who knew just where he was going, he hurried down that street until he reached a large tailoring establishment. Entering this, he asked for the proprietor, and was immediately shown to the private office.

Introducing himself with the air of one who was expected, he asked:

"You have, of course, received and filled my order?"

"Yes sir," said the gentleman, pleasantly, and pointing to a handsome valise and a large package at one side of the office. "In that valise you will find s.h.i.+rts, collars, underwear, stockings, neckties, and a medium suit of clothing. In the package is a handsome overcoat, a fine Prince Albert suit, hat, shoes--in fact a complete outfit, and good enough for any man. They will be sent to your hotel at the appointed hour to-morrow, and we guarantee the fit, if your measures were correct."

Budd thanked him, and then asked:

"Was the check I forwarded with the order sufficiently large in amount to pay for everything?"

"Yes, and a little to spare. Here is the receipted bill and change that the cas.h.i.+er sent here in antic.i.p.ation of your coming. I had the bundles brought here also, in case you should care to examine them."

"No, sir; I rely upon your judgment," replied the lad. "You may send the packages to me to-night, however, at the United States Hotel;" and he took his leave.

He now walked down to the hotel he had named, and registering his name, was shown to a room.

Before the supper-hour the packages had arrived from the tailoring establishment, and were at his request sent up to his room. He now examined their contents, and his face glowed with satisfaction as he saw how well his orders had been executed.

"Father need not be ashamed to call on the Governor himself with those clothes on," he said softly to himself, not knowing they would be put to that use.

When his supper was eaten he left the hotel and walked briskly off toward the business quarter of the city again, and reaching the office of a well-known daily paper, he entered and asked for the managing editor. On the a.s.surance that his business was important he was shown up to that worthy's sanctum.

With no hesitation he told who he was, and the object of his visit to Boston.

"My wish," he continued, "is to have your paper to-morrow kindly notice my father's return to public life; and if you believe in his innocence, do your part toward the vindication of his good name. I ask that you will give as conspicuous a place in your paper to his release as you did to his trial and conviction, and am willing to pay you for the s.p.a.ce."

The editor laughed a little.

"You show your appreciation of the value of the press as a molder of public sentiment," he then said. "But, my dear boy, Mr. Johnson has preceded you in this request. The first page of every daily in this city, to-morrow, will notice your father's release, and every editorial page will comment upon and welcome his return to public life.

"Why shouldn't we?" he added, bluntly. "Mr. Johnson has paid handsomely for it. He certainly is leaving no stone unturned to restore your father to his old standing in the community. From the hour of Bagsley's confession, for he telegraphed the fact here at once, he has seen to it that every step toward your father's release has been duly noticed by the public press."

Then the man, with a few inquiries as to Mr. Boyd's plans after his release, dismissed his young visitor.

"I have no more offices to visit, then," Budd remarked on reaching the street, "thanks to Mr. Johnson. I'll buy a copy of every paper to-morrow, however, so father can see just what they do say."

He now turned his steps toward the quarter of the city where he had formerly lived, and walked slowly over the familiar ground. Then he went around by the school he had last attended, and gazed up at the windows of the room where he used to sit. His thoughts now turned toward his former acquaintances and friends, and he felt a little pardonable exultation as he remembered how, at every breakfast-table of the city, on the following morning, his father's innocence would be discussed.

"I am not sure," he admitted to himself, as he walked back toward his hotel, "but that I should be glad to come back here and take up the old life--if," he added, after a brief pause, "Judd could only come with me."

And though he did not know it then, that very thing was to eventually happen.

Not far from half-past eight o'clock the next morning Budd put his packages into a hack, and entering it, gave the order to the driver:

"Go over to the State Prison in Charlestown."

With a peculiar look at his young pa.s.senger the driver mounted his box and drove away. A half-hour or so later he stopped at the ma.s.sive entrance of the inst.i.tution named, and Budd alighted. Requesting the hackman to remain until his return, he took up his bundles and went into the warden's office.

Upon showing the official doc.u.ment of the Governor to the clerk in waiting he politely requested Budd to take a seat while he went to call his superior officer. The warden soon entered, and telling Budd he had expected him, he led the way into the prison building. Down one corridor and into another they went, the heart of the lad beating loudly as he drew nearer to the father he had not seen for months. Suddenly the warden stopped before a cell and unlocked the door.

"You may enter and break the news to your father," he said to Budd in a low voice. "A little later I will send a man for you, and you and your father can come down to the office, where there is a dressing-room which he can use to get ready for his departure."

With these words he motioned the lad to enter the cell; then he gently closed the door, without locking it, and hurried away, leaving father and son alone. Surely nothing ever became him better.

As Budd entered the cell, his father arose from the stool on which he was sitting, and with a glad cry came toward him. The next instant they were in each other's arms, and sobbing on each other's shoulders. But the tears they shed were tears of joy, for Mr. Boyd had rightly conjectured that his son's presence meant his immediate release, and though not entirely unexpected, yet it still came with sufficient suddenness to move him to tears.

Soon they both grew calmer, and then Budd produced the Governor's pardon, and related to his father the story of its coming, and the Governor's suggestion that had accompanied it. He then produced a half-dozen morning papers, and pointed out to his father the flaming announcements of his release, and the editorial notes of welcome that signaled his return to public life.

"You need not be ashamed to go anywhere in the city, father," the lad exclaimed, triumphantly; "and I have brought you clothing fit for a king. A home is ready for you, too, where you can rest awhile and plan for the future. There is the man's step outside, now, who has been sent up for us; so come."

Leaning proudly on the arm of his boy, who had accomplished so much, Mr.

Boyd walked down to the office, where the warden kindly greeted him, and the few details essential to his release were attended to. Then he was shown into an adjacent dressing-room where the packages Budd had brought had already been carried, and from this he emerged a half-hour later looking, as the happy boy declared, "Just like his own father."

Budd now took up the valise that contained Mr. Boyd's spare clothing, and telling his father the carriage was in waiting, started for the door.

"One moment, Mr. Boyd," the warden said. "Here is a note the Governor has sent here for you."

In surprise, Mr. Boyd took the note and hastily opened it. There was but a brief line.

EXECUTIVE MANSION, October 5th.

_Mr. Henry Boyd and Son:_--You are both requested to dine with me at two o'clock this afternoon, where you will meet some old and some new friends.

THE GOVERNOR.

It was with emotions no words can express that both father and son entered their carriage and were driven off to their hotel. Never had the sun shone so brightly; never had the autumn foliage looked half so beautiful; never had the old, familiar streets and buildings seemed so dear. In their very happiness they were silent until nearly to their destination; then Mr. Boyd broke the silence by saying, tremulously:

"Oh, Budd! if your mother only knew of my vindication! If she had only lived to see this day!"

"She does know of it," replied Budd, simply.