Boy Scouts on a Long Hike Part 8
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Was Jo Davies, then, such a silly fellow as this? It did not seem possible that anyone not a fool would rob his employer, and immediately hurry home, to throw the stolen money before his dear old mother, with some wonderful story of how he had found it on the road, perhaps, or had it given to him by a millionaire whose horse he stopped on the highway, when it was running away with a lady in the vehicle.
And somehow, from the few little glimpses Paul had caught of the young fellow's face he rather liked Jo Davies. If, as seemed very likely, the young man had been tempted to steal this money, it would cause Paul a feeling of regret, even though he had not known there was such a being as Jo Davies in the world half an hour before.
"Whoo! see the long green!" he heard Seth whisper. "Reckon he's gone and done it, worse luck!" and from the words and the manner of his saying them, Paul guessed that the speaker must have taken a fancy to Jo, as well as himself.
The window happened to be shut, and so this whisper attracted no attention on the part of those within the cottage. Indeed, they were so given over to excitement themselves that they were hardly apt to notice anything out of the common.
Paul could feel the farmer beginning to slip down, and it was easy to understand that the sight of all that money made him want to rush inside, to claim it, before the bold thief had a chance to hide his plunder somewhere.
And this was the only possible thing that should be done. While Mr.
Rollins in the kindness of his heart might wish to spare the dear old lady all he could, he dared not take any chances of losing sight of his property.
"Come on, boys!"
That was quite enough, for when the other scouts heard Paul say these three simple words they knew that there was going to be something doing.
And quickly did they proceed to fall in behind their leader and the farmer.
Under ordinary conditions, perhaps, it might have occurred to the patrol leader to throw some sort of guard around the cabin, so as to prevent the escape of the desperate thief. He did not think of doing such a thing now, for various reasons.
In the first place, one of the scouts could hardly hope to cope with such a husky young fellow as the farmhand, if once he wanted to break through the line.
Then again, it hardly seemed likely that Jo Davies would attempt to flee, when his old mother was there to witness his confusion; in fact, the chances appeared to be that he would brazen it out, and try to claim that the money belonged to him. The door was close at hand, so that it took only part of a minute for the eager farmer to reach the means of ingress.
He did not hesitate a second, after having set eyes on all that alluring pile of bank notes on the table, under the glow of the lamp.
And when he suddenly opened the door, to burst into the room, Paul and the other scouts were close upon his heels, every fellow anxious to see what was about to happen.
Of course the noise caused by their entrance in such a ma.s.s, was heard by those in the room. Jo Davies sprang to his feet, and a.s.sumed an att.i.tude of defiance, one arm extended, as though to defend the little fortune that lay there exposed so recklessly upon the table.
Possibly this was the very first time in all his life that he had experienced such a sensation as fear of robbery. When a man has never possessed anything worth stealing, he can hardly know what the feeling is. So it must have been sheer instinct that caused Jo to thus stand on guard, ready apparently to fight, in order to protect his property, however recently it may have come into his possession.
No wonder that he felt this sudden alarm, to have the door of his home rudely thrown open, and a horde of fellows fairly tumbling over each other, in their eagerness to enter.
Then, the look of alarm seemed to pa.s.s away from the face of the young fellow; as though he had recognized his employer. Paul wondered whether this was real or cleverly a.s.sumed. He saw Jo actually smile, and advancing a step, half hold out his hand toward Mr. Rollins.
But the farmer was looking very stern just then. He either did not see the extended hand, or else meant to ignore it purposely, for he certainly made no move toward taking it.
"I've got back, Mr. Rollins," Jo said, his voice rather shaky, either from excitement, or some other reason; and he stared hard at Paul and the other khaki-garbed scouts, as though puzzled to account for their being there.
"So I see," replied the farmer, grimly.
"I hope you didn't hev too much trouble with the stock, Mr. Rollins," Jo went on to say, in a half hesitating sort of way.
"Well, if I did, they are all safe and sound; perhaps you'd like to know that now," the farmer went on to remark, a little bitterly.
Jo looked at him queerly.
"He either doesn't understand what that means, or else is trying to seem ignorant," was what Paul thought, seeing this expression of wonderment.
"I'm glad to hear that, sure I am, Mr. Rollins," the other remarked, slowly, "an' seein' as how you're dropped in on us unexpected like, p'raps I ought to tell you what I meant to say in the mornin.'"
"What's that?" demanded Mr. Rollins, unconsciously edging a little closer to the table where that tempting display of greenbacks could be seen; just as though he began to fear that it might suddenly take wings and fly away before he could put in a claim for his property.
"I've come in for a little windfall, sir," began Jo, proudly it appeared.
"Looks like you had," grumbled the farmer, as he flashed his eyes again toward the display so near at hand.
"And if so be you're of the same mind about that Thatcher farm, p'raps we might come to terms about the same, sir. I guess you'd just as lief sell it to _me_ as anybody else, wouldn't you, Mr. Rollins?"
"You seem to have a lot of money all of a sudden, Jo?" suggested the farmer, in a hoa.r.s.e tone, so that he had to clear his throat twice while speaking.
"Yes, sir, that's so," declared the young farm hand, eagerly. "I never dreamed of such grand good fortune as an old aunt of mine dying up in Indianapolis, and leaving me all she had in bank. That's why I asked to get off this afternoon, Mr. Rollins, so I could run over, and get what was comin' to me."
The farmer was grinding his teeth a little; but so long as he believed he saw all his stolen h.o.a.rd before him, within reach of his hand, he seemed able to control himself; he even waxed a trifle sarcastic, Paul thought, when, looking straight at his hired man, he went on to say:
"Perhaps now, Jo, I might give a pretty good guess about the size of this wonderful fortune you've come into so sudden-like. How would three thousand sound to you, Jo? Is that about the figure now, tell me?"
Jo turned a wondering face toward his old mother.
"Well, did you ever hear the beat of that, maw?" he cried, "Mr. Rollins has just guessed the size of my pile to a dollar, because it was just three thousand old Aunt Libby left me--a few dollars over p'raps.
However did you know it, sir?" and he once more faced the sneering farmer.
"I'll tell you, Jo," continued Mr. Rollins, coldly, "I happen to have just had three thousand dollars in bills stolen from my house this very night, by some rascal who first of all set fire to my stable and barn, so that the missus and me'd be so taken up with saving our pet stock we'd leave the farmhouse unguarded. Yes, and there _was_ a few dollars more'n three thousand dollars, Jo. Queer coincidence I'd call it now, wouldn't you?"
Jo turned deathly white, and stared at his employer. His eyes were round with real, or a.s.sumed horror. If he was "putting on," as Seth would term it, then this farm hand must be a pretty clever actor for a crude country b.u.mpkin, Paul thought.
"Oh! Jo, my boy, my boy, what does he mean by saying that?"
The little old lady had arisen from her chair, though she trembled so that she seemed in danger of falling; but Paul unconsciously moved a pace closer, ready to catch her in his arms if she swooned. But Jo, quick as a flash, hearing her voice, whirled around, and threw a protecting arm about her.
"It's all right, maw; don't you go and be afraid. I ain't done nawthing you need to be fearful about. This money's mine! Set down again, deary.
Don't you worrit about Jo. He ain't agoin' to make your dear old heart bleed, sure he ain't."
And somehow, when Paul saw the tender way in which the rough farm boy forced the little old lady back into her chair, and caught the positive tone in which he gave her this a.s.surance, he seemed almost ready to believe Jo _must_ be innocent; although when he glanced at the money his heart misgave him again.
"Now, Mr. Rollins, please tell me what it all means?" asked Jo, turning and facing his employer again, with a bold, self-confident manner that must have astonished the farmer not a little. "I just come up from town as fast as I could hurry, because, you see, I knew I was bringin' the greatest of news to maw here. I did see a sorter light in the sky when I was leavin' town, and thinks I to myself, that old swamp back of the ten acre patch must be burnin' again; but I never dreamed it was the stable and hay barn, sure I didn't sir."
The farmer hardly seemed to know what to say to this, he was so taken aback by the utter absence of guilt in the face and manner of Jo.
Before he could frame any sort of reply the young fellow had spoken again.
"You said as how you'd got all the stock out safe, didn't you, Mr.
Rollins? I'd just hate to think of Polly and Sue and the hosses bein'
burned up. Whatever d'ye think could a set the fire agoin'? Mebbe that last hay we put in wa'n't as well cured as it might a been, an' it's been heatin' right along. I meant to look into it more'n once, but somethin' always came along an' I plumb forgot it."
Mr. Rollins looked at him, and frowned. He did not know how to answer such a lead as this. He was growing impatient, almost angry again.
"Give me my money, Jo, and let me be going; I can't breathe proper in here, you've upset me so bad," he said, holding out his hand with an imperative gesture.
Boy Scouts on a Long Hike Part 8
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Boy Scouts on a Long Hike Part 8 summary
You're reading Boy Scouts on a Long Hike Part 8. This novel has been translated by Updating. Author: Archibald Lee Fletcher already has 570 views.
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