Jack the Hunchback Part 5

Nothing more alarming than the moth was found, however, and after the window fastenings had been carefully examined, Aunt Nancy led the way back to the kitchen, where she once more surprised her guest by taking down the well-worn Bible.

In a thin, quavering voice she read therefrom a certain number of verses in which she seemed to find the greatest satisfaction, and then replaced the book reverentially on the stand appropriated to its keeping.

Then, to Jack's further surprise, she knelt by the side of the chair and began a simple but heartfelt prayer, while the boy nestled around uneasily, not certain whether it was proper for him to stand up, or follow her example, therefore he remained where he was.

When the evening devotions had been brought to a close, he felt decidedly uncomfortable in mind, but did not think it advisable to expose his ignorance by asking the little woman what he should have done.

"Now we'll go to bed," Aunt Nancy said as she arose to her feet with such a look of faith on her wrinkled face as reminded the boy of pictures he had seen.

Without a word he followed her upstairs to a small room directly over the kitchen, which, however contracted it might seem to others, was twice as large as he needed when compared with his quarters on board the "Atlanta."

Then, as if her aim was to astonish and bewilder him on this first evening, Aunt Nancy kissed him on both cheeks as she said "Good night,"

and left him to his own reflections.

CHAPTER IV.

PURSUED.

It was a long while before slumber visited Jack's eyelids on this first night spent at the farm.

To have found such a pleasant resting place after his experience at Farmer Pratt's, and when the best he had expected was to be allowed to remain until morning, was almost bewildering; at the same time the friendly manner in which the kindly faced old lady treated him made a deep impression on his heart.

During fully an hour he speculated as to how it would be possible for him to reach New York with Louis, and, not being able to arrive at any satisfactory conclusion, he decided that that matter at least could safely be left in Aunt Nancy's care.

Then, all anxiety as to the immediate future having been dissipated, he thought of various ways by which he could lighten the little woman's labors.

He laid plans for making himself so useful about the farm that she would be repaid for her care of Louis, and these ideas were in his mind when he crossed the border of dreamland, where, until nearly daybreak, he tried to milk diminutive cows, or struggled to carry enormous tin pails.

Despite his disagreeable dreams, the sleep was refres.h.i.+ng, and when the first glow of dawn appeared in the eastern sky he was aroused by the sound of Aunt Nancy's voice from the foot of the stairs.

Jack's first waking thought was a continuation of the last on the night previous, and, dressing hurriedly, he ran down to the kitchen to begin the labor which he intended should make him a desirable member of the family.

To his great disappointment the fire had been built, Louis dressed, and the morning's work well advanced when he entered the room.

"Why didn't you call me before?" he asked reproachfully. "I meant to have done all this while you were asleep; but I laid awake so long last night that it didn't seem possible for my eyes to open."

"I am accustomed to doing these things for myself," Aunt Nancy replied with a kindly smile, "and don't mind it one bit, especially when the kindlings have been prepared. I got up a little earlier than usual because I was afraid there might be some trouble about dressing the baby; but he's just as good a child as can be, and seems right well contented here."

"It would be funny if he wasn't," Jack replied as he took Louis in his arms for the morning greeting.

There was a shade of sorrow in his heart because the child evinced no desire to remain with him, but scrambled out of his arms at the first opportunity to toddle toward Aunt Nancy, who ceased her work of brus.h.i.+ng imaginary dirt from the floor in order to kiss the little fellow as tenderly as a mother could have done.

"It seems as if he'd got all through with me," Jack said sorrowfully. "I believe he likes you the best now."

"Don't be jealous, my boy. It's only natural the child should cling to a woman when he can; but that doesn't signify he has lost any affection for you. It is time old crumple-horn was milked, and we'll take Louis with us so he won't get into mischief. I'm going to give you another lesson this morning."

Jack made a vain effort to repress the sigh which would persist in coming to his lips as the baby crowed with delight when the little woman lifted him in her arms, and taking the milking pail, he led the way out through the dewy gra.s.s to the barnyard, where the cow stood looking over the rails as if wondering why Aunt Nancy was so late.

Jack insisted that he could milk without any further instructions, and, after gathering an armful of the sweet-scented clover, he set boldly to work while Aunt Nancy and Louis watched him from the other side of the fence.

This time his efforts were crowned with success, and although he did not finish the task as quickly as the little woman could have done it, by the aid of a few hints from her he had drawn the last drop of milk into the pail before the cow began to show signs of impatience.

Then Aunt Nancy and Louis returned to the house while Jack drove the meek-eyed animal to the pasture, and when this was done he searched the shed for a rake.

He succeeded in finding one with not more than half the teeth missing, and began to sc.r.a.pe up the sticks and dried leaves from the lane, a work which was well calculated to yet further win the confidence of the neat little mistress of the farm.

When the morning meal was served, Jack had so far become accustomed to Aunt Nancy's ways that he bowed his head without being prompted, while she asked a blessing.

After breakfast was concluded the hunchback proceeded to put into execution the plan formed on the night previous.

"If you'll tell me what to do I'll go to work as soon as the lane is cleaned, an' that won't take a long while. I s'pose there's plenty to be done."

"Yes," Aunt Nancy replied with a sigh, "there's a great deal of work which a woman can't do; but I don't know as a boy like you would be able to get along any better than I."

"There won't be any harm in tryin'," Jack said manfully. "Tell me what it is you want."

"Well, the pasture fence is broken in several places, and I was thinking of getting Daniel Chick to come an' fix it; but perhaps you might patch the breaks up so's a cow couldn't get out."

"Of course I can. It ain't much of a job if you've got nails an' a hammer. I'll tackle it as soon as the lane is finished."

Aunt Nancy explained that the fence to which she referred bordered the road a short distance above the house, and Jack was so impatient to begin the labor that, contrary to his usual custom, he took a hurried leave of Louis.

An hour was sufficient in which to finish the self-imposed task on the lane, and then, with a very shaky hammer and a handful of rusty nails, he set out to repair the fence, leaving Louis playing in the kitchen with the gorgeous crockery rooster, while Aunt Nancy was busily engaged setting the house to rights generally.

The scene of Jack's first attempt at fence building was fully an eighth of a mile away, and in a clump of alder-bushes which shut off all view of the house.

It was by no means a simple task which he found before him.

The posts had so far decayed that an expert workman would have considered it necessary to replace them with new timbers; but since this was beyond his skill, he set about mending it after his own fas.h.i.+on.

It must not be supposed that Jack loved to work better than does any other boy; but he believed it was necessary for him to remain with Aunt Nancy until such time as he could find an opportunity of continuing the journey in some more rapid manner than by walking, and the desire to make himself useful about the farm was so great that labor ceased to be a hards.h.i.+p.

He had been engaged in this rather difficult task fully an hour, paying little or no attention to anything save the work in hand, when the rattle of wheels on the hard road attracted his notice.

Up to this time no person had pa.s.sed in either direction, and it was from curiosity rather than any idea the approaching travellers might be connected with his fortunes, that he peered out from among the alder-bushes.

Immediately he drew back in alarm.

He had seen, coming directly toward him in a lumbering old wagon and hardly more than a hundred yards away, Farmer Pratt and his son Tom.

"They're huntin' for me!" he said to himself as he crept farther among the bushes to conceal himself from view, and a secure hiding place had hardly been gained when the travellers came to a full stop at the little brook which ran on the opposite side of the road, in order to give their horse some water.

As a matter of fact Farmer Pratt _was_ in search of the two who had left his house so unceremoniously; but now he had no intention of taking them to the poorhouse.

Quite by accident a copy of a newspaper containing an account of the explosion on board the "Atlanta," and the information that Mrs.