CHAPTER VIII
THE GHOST IN THE ATTIC
After working two hours at the woodpile, Herbert was called in to tea. There was no great variety, Abner Holden not being a bountiful provider. But the bread was sweet and good, and the gingerbread fresh. Herbert’s two hours of labor had given him a hearty appetite, and he made a good meal. Mrs. Bickford looked on approvingly. She was glad to see that our hero enjoyed his supper.
There was tea on the table, and, after pouring out a cup for Mr. Holden, the housekeeper was about to pour out one for Herbert.
“He don’t want any tea,” said Abner, noticing the action. “Keep the cup for yourself, Mrs. Bickford.”
“What do you mean, Mr. Holden?” asked the housekeeper, in surprise.
“Tea isn’t good for a growing boy. A glass of cold water will be best for him.”
“I don’t agree with you, Mr. Holden,” said the housekeeper, decidedly. “Herbert has been hard at work, and needs his tea as much as you or I do.”
Therefore, without waiting for his permission, she handed the cup to Herbert, who proceeded to taste it.
Abner Holden frowned, but neither Herbert nor the housekeeper took much notice of it. The latter was somewhat surprised at this new freak on the part of Abner, as he had never tried to deprive any of Herbert’s predecessors of tea or coffee. But the fact was, Mr. Holden disliked Herbert, and was disposed to act the petty tyrant over him. He had neither forgotten nor forgiven the boy’s spirited defiance when they first met, nor his refusal to surrender into his hands the five dollars which the doctor had given him.
Feeling tired by eight o’clock, Herbert went up to his garret room and undressed himself. An instinct of caution led him to take out the money in his porte-monnaie, and put it in his trunk, which he then locked, and put the key under the sheet, so that no one could get hold of it without awakening him. This precaution proved to be well taken.
Herbert lay down upon the bed, but did not immediately go to sleep. He could not help thinking of his new home, and the new circumstances in which he was placed. He did not feel very well contented, and felt convinced from what he had already seen of Mr. Holden, that he should never like him. Then thoughts of his mother, and of her constant and tender love, and the kind face he would never more see on earth, swept over him, and almost unmanned him. To have had her still alive he would have been content to live on dry bread and water.
He thought, too, of the doctor’s family and their kindness. How different it would have been if he might have continued to find a home with them! But when he was tempted to repine, the thought of his mother’s Christian instructions came to him, and he was comforted by the reflection, that whatever happened to him was with the knowledge of his Father in heaven, who would not try him above his strength.
Try and trust! That was almost the last advice his mother had given him, as the surest way of winning the best success.
“Yes,” he thought, “I will try and trust, and leave the rest with God.”
Meanwhile Mr. Holden had not been able to keep out of his head the five dollars which he knew Herbert possessed. He was a mean man, and wished to appropriate it to his own use. Besides this, he was a stubborn man, and our hero’s resistance only made him the more determined to triumph over his opposition by fair means or foul. It struck him that it would be a good idea to take advantage of our hero’s slumber, and take the money quietly from his pocketbook while he was unconscious.
Accordingly, about eleven o’clock, he went softly up the attic stairs with a candle in his hand, and, with noiseless steps, approached the bed. Herbert’s regular breathing assured him that he was asleep. Abner Holden took up his pants and felt for his pocketbook. He found it, and drew it out with exultation.
“Aha!” he thought; “I’ve got it.”
But this brief exultation was succeeded by quick disappointment. The pocketbook proved to be quite empty.
“Curse it!” muttered Abner, “what has the boy done with his money?”
It was at this moment that Herbert, his eyes possibly affected by the light, awoke, and he discovered his employer examining his pocketbook.
His first feeling was indignation, but the sight of Abner Holden’s disappointed face amused him, and he determined not to reveal his wakefulness, but to watch, him quietly.
“Perhaps he’s got two pocketbooks,” thought Abner. But in this he was mistaken.
Next he went to Herbert’s trunk, and tried it, but found it locked.
“I wonder where he keeps the key,” was his next thought.
He searched Herbert’s pockets, but the search was in vain.
“Plague take the young rascal!” he muttered, loud enough for Herbert to hear.
Herbert turned in bed, and Abner Holden, fearing that he might wake up, and being on the whole, rather ashamed of his errand, and unwilling to be caught in it, went downstairs.
“Well, he didn’t make much,” thought our hero. “It’s lucky I thought to put the money in my trunk. If he only knew I had fifteen dollars, instead of five, he would be all the more anxious to get hold of it.”
“How did you sleep last night, Herbert?” inquired the housekeeper at breakfast.
“Very well, thank you, Mrs. Bickford.”
He was resolved not to drop a hint of what had happened, being curious to see if Mr. Holden would make any further attempts to obtain his money. As his employer might possibly find a key that would unlock the trunk, he thought it prudent, during the day, to carry the money about with him.
He hardly knew whether to expect a visit from Abner the next night, but formed a little plan for frightening him if such a visit should take place.
It so happened that he had in his trunk a fish horn which had been given him by someone in Waverley. This he took out of the trunk before retiring and hid it under his pillow. It was about nine o’clock when he went to bed, but by considerable effort he succeeded in keeping awake for an hour or two.
About eleven o’clock, Abner Holden, before going to bed himself, decided to make one more attempt to obtain possession of Herbert’s money. He reflected that possibly our hero had only put away his money by chance on the previous evening, and might have neglected to do so on the present occasion. He desired to get possession of it before any part of it was spent, as, judging from what he knew of boys, it would not remain long unexpended.
Once more, therefore, he took his candle, and removing his thick-soled shoes, which might betray him by their sound, crept softly up the steep and narrow staircase.
But Herbert heard him, and moreover was warned of his visit by the light of the candle which he carried. He closed his eyes, and awaited his coming in silent expectation.
Abner Holden looked towards the bed. Herbert’s eyes were closed, and his breathing was deep and regular.
“He’s sound asleep,” thought Abner, with satisfaction.
He set down the candle on a chair beside the bed, and began to examine our hero’s pocketbook once more. But it proved to be empty as before. In the pocketbook, however, he found a key, the key, as he supposed, to Herbert’s trunk. It was not, however, being only a key which Herbert had picked up one day in the street, and kept. He had put it in his pocket with a view to mislead his employer.
That gentleman uttered a low exclamation of satisfaction when his fingers closed upon the key, never doubting for a moment that it would open the trunk.
Leaving the candle in its place, he rose from his recumbent position, threw the pants on the bed, and went round on the other side, to try the key.
He got down on his knees before the trunk, and had inserted the key in the lock, or rather had made an ineffectual attempt to do so, when suddenly the candle was extinguished, and a horrible blast on the fish horn resounded through the garret.
Now, Abner Holden was not a very courageous man. In fact, he was inclined to superstition. He knew that he was engaged in a dishonorable attempt to rob a boy who was placed in his charge, and there is an old proverb that says “conscience makes cowards of us all.” It must be admitted that it was rather calculated to affect the nerves to find one’s self suddenly in the dark, and at the same time to hear such a fearful noise proceeding from an unknown quarter.
Abner Holden jumped to his feet in dire dismay, and, without stopping to reflect on the probable cause of this startling interruption, “struck a bee line” for the staircase, and descended quicker, probably, than he had ever done before, narrowly escaping tumbling the entire distance, in his headlong haste.
Herbert had to stuff the bedclothes into his mouth to keep from bursting into a shout of laughter, which would have revealed his agency in producing the mysterious noise.
“I thought I heard a frightful noise last night soon after I went to bed,” said Mrs. Bickford, at the breakfast table. “Didn’t you hear anything, Mr. Holden?”
“No,” said Abner, “I heard nothing. You were probably dreaming.”
“Perhaps I was. Didn’t you hear anything, Herbert?”
“I sleep pretty sound,” said Herbert, quietly.
Abner Holden watched him as he said this, and was evidently more perplexed than ever. But that was the last visit he paid to the garret at night.
CHAPTER IX
EXPOSING A FRAUD
It would be hard to tell what Abner Holden’s precise occupation was. He had thirty or forty acres of land, but only cultivated enough to produce supplies of vegetables for his own table, and grain for his horses. He kept four cows, and he had, at this time, three horses. He had the Yankee propensity for “swapping,” and from time to time traded horses, generally managing to get the best of the bargain, for he was tolerably sharp and not much troubled by conscientious scruples about misstating the merits of his horses.
But, about two months before Herbert came into his employ, he had himself been overreached, and found himself the possessor of a horse of excellent outward appearance, but blind of one eye, and with a very vicious temper. He accepted the situation with a bad grace, and determined, as soon as possible, to “trade” the horse to another party.
One day, about a fortnight after Herbert’s arrival, a gentlemanly-looking stranger knocked at Abner Holden’s door.
The call was answered by the housekeeper.
“Is Mr. Holden at home?” he inquired.
“Yes, sir,” was the reply.
“I should like to see him.”
Abner Holden soon made his appearance.
“Mr. Holden.” said the stranger “I am in search of a good family horse. I am told that you have some animals for sale, and called on you, thinking I might get suited through you.”
“You’ve come to the right place,” said Abner, glibly. “I’ve got just the animal that will suit you.”
“I should like to see it.”
“He’s in the pasture now. If you don’t object to walking a short distance, I will show him to you. I feel sure he will suit you.”
“Very well, I will go with you.”
“This way, then.”
The two walked down a green lane at the back of the house to the entrance of the pasture, where the three horses, at present comprising Abner Holden’s entire stock, were grazing leisurely.
Now, it happened that, of the three, the blind and vicious horse was much the best looking. He held his head erect, had a graceful form, and was likely to attract favorable notice at first sight.
Abner Holden paused at a little distance, and pointed him out.
“What do you think of that horse, Mr. Richmond?” he said.
“A very good-looking animal,” said the stranger, with an approving glance; “but I must explain that I want such an animal as my wife can drive. It is absolutely necessary that he should be good-tempered and gentle. If, with this, he is handsome, and of good speed, all the better. Now you know what I am in search of. Can you recommend this horse of yours?”
“Yes,” said Abner, confidently, “he will just suit you. I did calculate to keep him for my own use, but I’m rather short of money, and I shall have to let him go.”
“You say he is gentle?”
“Oh, yes, as gentle as need be.”
“Could a woman drive him?”
“Oh, no trouble about that,” said Abner.
“And he has no serious defect?”
“No.”
“Well, that seems satisfactory. I like his appearance. He would look well in harness. What is your price?”
“Two hundred and fifty dollars, cash down,” said Abner. “That’s too cheap. He’s worth a cool hundred more, but I got him cheap, and can afford to sell him cheap.”
The horse had cost Mr. Holden just a hundred and ten dollars, and at this price he considered himself decidedly taken in; but this he did not particularly care to mention.
“Two hundred and fifty dollars!” mused the stranger. “It is a little more than I intended to pay. Still, if the animal is what you describe, I don’t know that I shall object on that score.”
“You had better take him,” said Abner. “It’ll be the best bargain you ever made, I’ll warrant. You’ll pay cash down, I suppose?”
“Of course.”
“Then shall we say it’s a bargain?”
“Not quite yet. I’ll take till the afternoon to think about it.”
“Better decide now. The fact is, Mr. Richmond, I ought not to let the horse go at that figure, and I may change my mind.”
“I think I shall take your horse, but I have agreed to look at another, and must see that first.”
“Whose?”
“It belongs to a man named Nichols.”
“Sam Nichols?”
“I believe so.”
“I wouldn’t advise you to have anything to do with him.”
“Why not?”
“He’s a regular sharper. You can’t depend on anything he says.”
“Thank you for the caution. I will be on my guard. But I promised to take a look at his horse before deciding. If I don’t come to terms with him, and I don’t think I shall, I will come round some time this afternoon and make a bargain with you.”
Mr. Holden thought it was hardly politic to urge him farther. With a renewed caution as to dealing with Sam Nichols, he let him go.
“Well,” thought Abner, after he was gone, “it will be a pretty good thing if I get rid of Spitfire”—he had named him thus—“for two hundred and fifty dollars. He’s a bad-tempered brute, and blind into the bargain. But I’m not bound to tell Mr. Richmond that, and so spoil my trade. I’ve put a flea in his ear about Nichols, and I guess he will be back again.”
The prospect of making a good bargain caused Abner to be unusually pleasant and good-humored, so much so that Mrs. Bickford regarded him with surprise. He voluntarily asked her if she did not wish something at the store, volunteering to bring home whatever was needed.
“What’s come over the man?” thought the housekeeper. “It’s too good to last.”
She was quite correct there. Mr. Holden was naturally crabbed, and fair weather with him was the exception rather than the rule. On the present occasion it did not last many hours.
Abner Holden went to the store, but made other calls on the way, so that he was three hours absent, and did not return till twelve o’clock, the usual dinner hour in his household.
Meanwhile, Mr. Richmond, his caller of the morning, had been to see Sam Nichols, and inspected the horse he had for sale. He did not altogether like its appearance, and, moreover, he was prejudiced against him by what he had heard from Abner Holden, and came away without effecting a purchase.
“I don’t think I can do better,” he reflected, “than to take that horse of Holden’s. Let me see, it is only half-past ten. I shall have time to go up there this morning. I suppose I might as well settle matters at once.”
Accordingly, eleven o’clock found him again in Abner Holden’s yard.
Herbert was out in the yard, engaged in splitting wood.
“Is Mr. Holden at home?” inquired the stranger, pausing.
“No, sir.”
“Will he be at home soon?”
“Yes, sir, I think so. He only went out to the store. He ought to be home now.”
“Then I think I will wait. I was here once before this morning. I was talking with him about buying one of his horses. If you can spare the time, I would like to have you go with me to the pasture, and I will take another look at the one I saw this morning.”
“Certainly, sir,” said Herbert, driving the ax into the block upon which he had been splitting, prepared to accompany Mr. Richmond to the pasture.
They reached the bars dividing the pasture from the next field. Spitfire was cropping the grass just on the other side.
“There,” said the stranger, pointing him out, “that is the horse I was looking at.”
“THAT ONE!” repeated Herbert, in a tone of surprise.
“Yes, he is a fine-looking animal.”
“Ye-es,” said Herbert, hesitatingly.
“However, I don’t so much care about that, as for his being gentle. I want him for a family horse, such as my wife may drive, without fear, while I am away.”
“Did Mr. Holden say he’s gentle?” asked Herbert.
“Yes. He recommended him highly for that, and told me he had no serious defect.”
“Are you sure this is the horse?” asked Herbert.
“Certainly. I am not likely to be mistaken in it. I suppose it is all as he says?”
Herbert was in a perplexing position. He knew that if he told the truth he should incur Abner Holden’s anger, but his conscience revolted at suffering the stranger to be taken in, and thus, perhaps, exposing his wife to serious danger.
“I am afraid I cannot confirm what Mr. Holden says,” he answered, reluctantly. “The horse is very ill-tempered, and is blind of one eye.”
“Is it possible? Then I have had a narrow escape. You have done me a good service, my boy, in telling me the truth, for I am, myself, unused to horses, and should have taken the animal on your employer’s recommendation. Accept this acknowledgment of my indebtedness.”
He would have placed a five-dollar bill in Herbert’s hand, but our hero firmly refused to receive it.
“I have only done my duty, sir. I cannot accept money for doing that. Thank you all the same.”
“Perhaps you are right, my lad. If I ever have a chance to serve you, don’t hesitate to let me know it.”
“There’ll be a storm if Mr. Holden hears of this,” thought Herbert. “But I could not do otherwise.”
CHAPTER X
THE CLOUDS GATHER
At twelve o’clock Abner Holden returned home, still in good humor. As he did not anticipate another call from his expected customer until the afternoon, he made no inquiries.
“Perhaps he won’t hear about it,” thought Herbert, and as he did not wish to have any trouble with Mr. Holden, he hoped it might prove so.
Abner was so elated at the thought of his good bargain in prospect, that he could not keep it to himself.
“I’ve about sold Spitfire, Mrs. Bickford,” he said to the housekeeper.
“Sold Spitfire! Who wants to buy him?”
“A man that called here this morning. What do you think he wants him for?”
“To break his neck,” suggested the housekeeper.
“He wants him for a good family horse for his wife to drive,” and Abner Holden burst into a laugh.
“Perhaps he’s anxious to become a widower,” said Mrs. Bickford.
“No; the fact is he thinks the horse is gentle.”
“You told him so, I suppose?”
“Of course, I did.”
“Knowing it to be false?”
“Shut up, Mrs. Bickford. You know all is fair in trade.”
“No, I don’t, Mr. Holden. To my mind, a lie’s just as much a lie in trade as in anything else. I suppose the man trusted to your recommendation.”
“Suppose he did. I got cheated on the horse, and I’ve got to get rid of it, somehow. As it is, I shall make a handsome profit.”
“Well, Mr. Holden, all I’ve got to say is, I am glad I haven’t got as tough a conscience as you have.”
“You don’t know anything about business, Mrs. Bickford.”
“Well, manage things your own way. I ain’t responsible, but I pity the poor man if he buys Spitfire.”
“So do I,” chuckled Abner. “That’s where you and I agree, Mrs. Bickford.”
Herbert listened in silence. He was disgusted with the utter disregard of fair dealing exhibited by Abner Holden, though he was not surprised at it. He felt glad that he had been the means of saving Mr. Richmond from being overreached, though he know very well that Mr. Holden’s rage would be furious when he learned what had interfered with the trade. He did not feel under any obligations to reveal his own agency in the matter, unless direct inquiry was made of him. In that case, he would manfully stand by his acts.
“I’m expecting the man this afternoon, Mrs. Bickford,” said Mr. Holden, “and shall stay around home to see him. When he comes, call me at once; and mind, not a word about Spitfire.”
“Just as you say. I wash my hands of the whole affair.”
“Washing your hands won’t do you any harm,” said Abner, with a laugh at what he supposed to be a witticism.
Mrs. Bickford took no notice of this remark. It was not quite easy to say why she remained in charge of Mr. Holden’s household, for certainly, she had no respect for her employer. However, he did not meddle with her, or, if he did, he got the worst of it, and it was perhaps the independence that she enjoyed which led her to remain in the house. Knowing Abner’s character, she was not particularly shocked at this last evidence of it, but went about her work as usual, with scarcely a thought of what had passed.
Abner Holden sat at the window, and looked up the road, awaiting anxiously the appearance of the customer.
“I hope he’ll bring the money with him,” he thought. “I’d like to have matters all arranged to-day, before he smells a rat. If I get the money once in my hands, he may scold all he pleases about the horse. It won’t disturb my rest.”
But the old clock in the corner kept ticking—minute after minute passed—and still the stranger did not appear.
“He can’t have struck a bargain with Sam Nichols,” muttered Abner, apprehensively. “If he has, it’ll be sort of a swindle on me. Maybe Nichols has been telling him lies about me.”
Abner waxed so angry over this supposition, that although it was merely conjecture, he already began to consider in what way he could “come up with Sam Nichols.”
“That money would come very handy,” thought Abner. “There’s a horse worth two of Spitfire, I can get for a hundred and fifty, and that would leave me a hundred. I wish he would come.”
He looked out of the window, and, not content with that, went out of the front door, and, shading his eyes with his hands, looked up the road. But he could see nothing of Mr. Richmond. Abner began to fear that he had lost his bargain.
“I guess I’ll put on my hat and go round to the tavern,” he said to Mrs. Bickford. “If the gentleman I spoke of should call while I am away, just send the boy around after me as quick as possible.”
“Very well.”
Abner Holden walked hurriedly to the tavern, determined to bring about a bargain, which would be so desirable for him, if it were a possible thing. He must and would get rid of Spitfire, however many falsehoods he might have to tell. What was truth in comparison to two hundred and fifty dollars! Suppose Spitfire should run away with the stranger’s wife and break her limbs, or even her neck, it was everybody’s duty to look out for himself in this world.
Thus reasoned Abner Holden. There is no particular need of my commenting upon the fallacy of this reasoning, since it is not likely that any of my young readers will sufficiently admire his character to be in any danger of being led into imitation of it.
At the end of a very few minutes, Abner stood on the piazza, of the tavern, a little out of breath with rapid walking.
“Is Mr. Richmond still here?” he inquired of the landlord, anxiously.
“Yes, but he means to leave in five minutes.”
“Where is he?”
“In his room.”
“I want to see him on particular business—I wish you would send up and ask him to come down.”
“Very well.”
“William,” said the landlord, summoning his son, “go up and tell Mr. Richmond that Mr. Holden wishes to see him.”
“You don’t know of his having bought a horse of Sam Nichols, do you?” asked Abner, nervously, of the landlord.
“No, I am sure he has not.”
Abner felt somewhat relieved by this. As long as he was still unprovided with a horse, there was still a chance of Spitfire. He resolved, if necessary, to abate something from the rather high price he had demanded in the morning.
Mr. Richmond followed William downstairs.
“You wish to see me?” he asked, glancing toward Mr. Holden.
“Yes, about the horse you were looking at this morning.”
“I have concluded not to take him,” said the other, coldly.
“You didn’t buy of Sam Nichols, did you?”
“No; his horse did not suit me.”
“You haven’t any other in your eye, have you?” asked Mr. Holden.
“No.”
“Then, hadn’t you better look at mine again?” he said, persuasively.
“It would be of no use.”
“If the price is any objection,” said Abner, insinuatingly, “I don’t know but I might say a LEETLE less, though the animal’s wuth more’n I ask for it.”
“It isn’t the price that stands in the way, Mr. Holden.”
“What is it, then? Sam Nichols hain’t been slandering me, I hope. If he has, I’ll be even with him.”
“Spare your anger against Sam Nichols. He said nothing against you; though I believe you warned me against him.”
“Yes, I did. I felt it my duty to caution you, so you might not be overreached by him.”
“You prefer to overreach me yourself,” said the other, quietly.
Abner started, and changed color.
“What do you mean?” he said. “Who told you I wanted to overreach you?”
“Why, this is the way the matter stands. I asked you for a good family horse, such as my wife might drive with safety. Didn’t you understand me so?”
“Of course.”
“And you tried to sell me an ill-tempered brute, blind of one eye, for an extortionate price. Can you deny it?”
“Somebody’s been telling you a pack of lies,” said Abner, hoarsely.
“I don’t think they are lies. I have every reason to think they are true. By the way, what is the animal’s name?”
“Spitfire,” said Abner, rather reluctantly.
“A good name for a family horse,” said the stranger, sarcastically.
“Where did you learn all this?” demanded Abner. “Who’s been slandering the horse?”
“I got my information at your place, from one who ought to know.”
A light dawned upon Abner Holden’s mind.
“Herbert told him,” muttered Abner to himself. “That cursed boy has spoiled my bargain, and he shall smart for it.”
In a furious rage, he retraced his steps homeward, breathing threats of vengeance dire against our hero.