Bernard Brooks' Adventures: The Experience of a Plucky Boy

“Well, you see, my father died and my mother married again. You never had a stepfather, I take it.”

“No; my mother died when I was a baby, and my father when I was five years old.”

“That was bad luck.”

“Yes,” answered Bernard gravely.

“I think,” said Jack, shifting his quid of tobacco from one cheek to the other, “that I was about fifteen when my mother told me that she had decided to marry Mr. Stubbs. Stubbs kept a grocery store in the village, and passed for a man well to do. My mother had about two thousand dollars, left by my father, and she did some dressmaking, while I did chores for the neighbors, and sometimes worked on a farm, so that between us we made a comfortable living, and always had enough to eat. When mother told me that, I felt very much upset, for I didn’t like Mr. Stubbs, who was a mean, grasping man, and I tried to get her off the notion of marrying him. But it was of no use. She said she had given her word.

“‘Besides,’ she added, ‘we haven’t got much money, Jack, and Mr. Stubbs says he will support, us both in comfort.’

“‘Are you going to give him your money, mother?’ I asked.

“‘Well, yes, Jack. Mr. Stubbs says he can use it in his business, and he will allow me interest on it at the rate of six per cent. You know I only get five per cent in the savings bank.’

“‘It is safe in the savings bank,’ I said.

“‘And so it will be with Mr. Stubbs. He is a good, honorable man.’

“‘I don’t know about that. All the boys in town dislike him.’

“‘He says they tease him, and steal apples and other things from the store,’ she replied.

“‘I don’t like the idea of having such a man as that for my father.’

“‘He is going to put you into his store, and teach you business, and make a man of you,’ she said.

“I made a wry face, for I knew of one or two boys who had worked for Stubbs, and complained that he had treated them like niggers. However, I soon found that it was no use talking to mother, for she had made up her mind and I couldn’t alter it. In a month she changed her name to Stubbs, and we went to live at the house of my stepfather.

“I soon found that he lived very meanly. We didn’t live half so well as mother and I had before she married, although our means were small. I went into the store, and I never worked so hard in my life. I went to bed tired, and I got up at five o’clock in the morning, feeling more tired than when I went to bed. Presently I needed some new clothes, so I went to mother, and asked for some. She applied to Stubbs, but he refused to get them for me..

“‘The boy is proud,’ he said. ‘He wants to look like a dude. I won’t encourage him in such foolishness.’

“‘He really needs some new clothes,’ pleaded mother.

“‘Then he can buy them himself,’ he returned.

“‘I will buy some out of my interest money,’ said mother.

“‘Your interest isn’t due,’ he said shortly.

“‘You might advance me a little,’ she returned ‘Say, ten dollars.’

“But he wouldn’t do it, and while I am on the subject I may as well say that he never did pay her the interest he promised. Of course he had to give her a few dollars now and then, but I don’t think it amounted to more than thirty or forty dollars a year, while she was entitled to a hundred and twenty.”

“He must have been a mean man,” said Bernard, in a tone of sympathy.

“Mean was no name for it. I tried to get him to pay me wages, no matter how small, so that I could have something to spend for myself, but it was of no use. He wouldn’t agree to it. Finally I told mother I couldn’t stand it any longer; I must run away and earn my own living. She felt bad about having me go, but she saw how I was treated, and she cried a little, but didn’t say much. So I ran away, and when I reached Boston I tried to get a place. This I couldn’t do, as I had no friends and no one to recommend me; and finally, not knowing what else to do, I shipped as a sailor.”

“Have you ever been home since?”

“Yes, I went two or three times, and I always carried some money to mother, who needed it enough, poor woman! Finally I went home two years since and I found that my mother was dead;” and Jack wiped away a tear from his eye. “I don’t think I shall ever go there again.”

“And did Mr. Stubbs keep your mother’s money?” asked Bernard.

“You may be sure he did. But it didn’t do him much good.”

“How is that?”

“His store burned down. Some say it was set on fire by an enemy, and he had plenty. It wasn’t insured, for the insurance company had increased its rates, and Mr. Stubbs was too mean to pay them. Then in trying to put out the fire – it was a cold winter night – he caught a bad cold which brought on consumption, and finally made him helpless. Would you like to know where he is now?”

“Yes.”

“He is in the poorhouse, for all his means had melted away. The man in charge is about as amiable as Stubbs himself, and I have no doubt he has a pretty hard time of it. I don’t pity him, for my part, for he made my mother unhappy, and drove me to sea.”

“I am sorry for you, Jack. Your luck has been worse than mine. My father and mother are both dead, but as long as they lived they fared well.”

“No one ever tried to rob them of money, as my mother was robbed of her small fortune?”

“I don’t feel sure of that,” said Bernard thoughtfully.

“What do you mean?”

Then Bernard told Jack what he had heard from Alvin Franklin about his father’s having had money, and of his suspicion that Mr. McCracken had appropriated it.

The story made an impression on Jack Staples.

“I shouldn’t wonder if you were right, Bernard,” he said. “He seems to have treated you in a queer way. What sort of a man is this Professor Puffer?”

“I don’t know much about him.”

“Do you like him?”

“No.”

“I’ll tell you what – he looks to me like my stepfather.”

“I am puzzled about him,” said Bernard. “He doesn’t look in the least like a literary man, or a professor.”

“That’s so.”

“Then I find he is intemperate. I haven’t been able to learn anything about his business, or studies, but he is fond of whisky. Do you know, Jack, I don’t believe I shall be content to stay with him very long.”

“Is he a friend of your guardian?”

“I suppose so.”

“Are you to get any pay?”

“Twenty-five dollars a month and my expenses.”

“That is good – if you get it.”

“Don’t you think I will?”

“I don’t think you’ll get it any more than my mother got her interest.”

“Then I certainly shall not stay with him.”

“But what can you do? You will be in Europe.”

“I don’t know, Jack, but I think I shall get along somehow.”

“To my mind your guardian had some object in putting you with such a man.”

“Perhaps so, but I may be doing Mr. McCracken an injustice.”

“If ever you get into trouble, Bernard, don’t forget that Jack Staples is your friend. I have got a few dollars stowed away in a bank at home, and they are yours if you need them.”

“I will remember it, Jack, and thank you, whether I need them or not.”

A day or two later something happened that made Bernard still more suspicious of his guardian and Professor Puffer.

CHAPTER XVI. A SCRAP OF PAPER

Bernard was in the stateroom one day during the absence of Professor Puffer, when he noticed on the floor a fragment of paper, looking like a portion of a letter with writing upon it. He picked it up and mechanically read the words which it contained.

The paper had been torn irregularly across, so that it contained no complete sentence. The words it did contain arrested his attention. This is a transcript of them:

the boy in my way.Would like to get riddon’t bring him back toyour discretion.

Bernard could not doubt that the reference was to him, and that the letter of which this was a fragment had been written by his guardian, as a document of instruction to Professor Puffer. It was clear that the professor was an agent of Mr. McCracken, and that the latter was anxious to get him out of the way.

But how? How much danger was involved in this unfriendly disposition of his guardian? Again, why did he want to get rid of him? These were questions which Bernard found himself unable to answer.

It was clear, however, that his engagement as private secretary was only a subterfuge in order to get him under the charge of Puffer, who was evidently no professor at all. It seemed an elaborate and clumsy device on the part of Mr. McCracken, but Bernard must take things as he found them, and form his own plans accordingly.

He wished he could have seen the whole letter, as the additional information it contained might help him to a decision. One thing, however, seemed evident: that it would be wise to part company with Professor Puffer as soon as practicable after he reached Europe. On the ship it was policy for him to continue the companionship, and leave the professor ignorant of the discovery he had made.

Bernard considered whether he had better communicate the contents of the scrap of paper to any one on board. On the whole, it seemed wise, in case anything should happen. There was not one of the passengers whom he felt like taking into his confidence.

Dr. Felix Hampton had no thought except for his bilious tonic, and Bernard doubted if he was a man of discretion. Nelson Sturgis was probably reliable, and seemed friendly, but, upon the whole, Bernard preferred to intrust the secret to Jack Staples. He was an humble friend, but a man to be trusted. He therefore took the earliest opportunity of speaking to Jack.

“I’ve got something to show you, Jack,” he said, when he found the sailor alone.

“All right, lad. What is it?”

“This scrap of paper.”

“Do you want me to give you my opinion of your handwriting?”

“It isn’t my handwriting.”

“Whose then?”

“To the best of my knowledge, it is the handwriting of my guardian, Cornelius McCracken.”

Jack studied the paper, and then asked quietly: “Where did you find this, lad?”

“In my stateroom. It was dropped, no doubt, by Professor Puffer.”

“So I surmised. You think it was written to him by your guardian?”

“Yes; I think there can be no doubt of that. Now, what do you think it means, Jack?”

“It means mischief,” said Jack sententiously. “It was written by one rascal to another. Of course, by ‘the boy’ he means you.”

“Yes.”

“And he wants to get rid of you?”

Bernard nodded.

“If we had the whole letter we could see into this thing better. How did he expect that professor fellow to get rid of you?”.

“That’s the question I’ve been asking myself, but I can’t answer it.”.

“What do you think of doing, lad?”

“I shall leave the professor as soon as I get a chance.”

“Yes, that’s sensible.”

“But I can’t leave him while we are on shipboard. I must wait till we get to the other side.”

“I suppose he wouldn’t try to do you any harm on board the Vesta,” said the sailor thoughtfully.

“I don’t think so.”

“Still, it’s best to watch.”

“I was going to ask you to do that, Jack.”

“So I will, lad, as well as I can, but you know I’m just a sailor, and my duties on this here vessel don’t give me much of a chance.”

“That’s true, Jack.”

“Do you think that he’ll suspect that you’ve got the paper?”

“I can’t tell yet. It seems to have been torn off, perhaps, for a lighter. He may not miss it.”

“If he had sense he’d guard such a letter as that carefully.”

“I would, if it were mine, but some men are careless, and I think he is one of that kind.”

“You mean to leave him when you get to the other side?”

“Yes, Jack.”

“Have you any money?”

“Only a few dollars.”

“If I was only at home, lad, I’d see that you had money. But all my money – over a hundred dollars,” added Jack, with pride – “is in a savings bank in York. I don’t carry any money with me.”

“Thank you, all the same, Jack; I guess I’ll get along somehow.”

“It’s a hard thing to be three thousand miles away from home without brass. Still, there’s one thing in your favor, lad.”

“What is that?”

“You’re sure to make friends. Why, I was your friend as soon as I clapped eyes on you.”

“Thank you, Jack; but all may not be as friendly as you.”

“You’ll get along, lad; take my word for that.”

“Your words encourage me, Jack. Any way, I’d rather trust a perfect stranger than Professor Puffer.”

“I surmise you’re right there, lad.”

Bernard was curious to find out whether the professor had discovered the loss of the telltale scrap of paper. He therefore watched him carefully, thinking that he might learn this by his manner. But Professor Puffer didn’t appear to suspect anything, and Bernard took care not to betray by his own manner that he had made any discovery.

Days passed – a period more than long enough to reach their destined port had the Vesta been a steamer, but being only a sailing vessel, contrary winds kept her back, and when twenty days had passed they were still out at sea. Both Jack and Bernard kept the professor under careful watch, but neither one detected anything of a suspicious character.

This Bernard remarked to Jack one day.

“You’re right, lad; the time hasn’t come yet. The mischief he’s up to isn’t on board ship. He will wait till he has you on shore.”

“If he does that, it’ll be too late, for as soon as we reach port, or as soon after as I can, I mean to leave him.”

“That’ll be the best way. Didn’t you tell me he was going to pay you a salary?”

“Yes.”

“How much?”

“Twenty-five dollars a month.”

“More than half the month has passed. Why don’t you strike him for a part of your salary?”

“He would think I had no use for money on board.”

“All the same, lad, ask him. It won’t do no harm, and if you get anything, it will help you after you have left him. You can’t get along in England without money, or, for that matter, anywhere else.”

“I can think of one place, Jack.”

“Where’s that?”

“Where Robinson Crusoe was wrecked on a desolate island money was of no use to him, though I believe some was saved from the wreck.”

“You’re right there, lad; but as soon as he got off it would help him.”

“Well, Jack, I’ll take your advice, and let you know what he says.”

Accordingly, the next day, when Bernard found himself alone with Professor Puffer, he said: “I have been with you about twenty days, professor.”

“Is it as long as that? What of it?”

“I thought you might be willing to advance me half a month’s salary?”

“What do you want of money? There are no shops on the Vesta.”

“That’s true, but I should feel a bit more comfortable with a little money in my pocket.”

“Do you want to play for money?”

“No, sir.”

“You can’t use any money till you get to Liverpool.”

“I know it, sir, but – ”

“When you get there I will give you some; till then you have no occasion for any. Besides, you have done no work.”

“I have been ready for work if you had any for me.”

“That’s all right. You shall have a chance to work in due time. We couldn’t do any work on the ship.”

Bernard had to be content with this. He reflected that if the professor carried out his promise, and gave him half a month’s salary on reaching Liverpool, that would be as soon as he would have any use for it.

As the voyage drew nearer and nearer the end, Bernard grew excited. A new life lay before him. What would be the result of his efforts to make his own living, after he had left the professor?

CHAPTER XVII. BERNARD’S PERIL

One evening Bernard was standing at the side of the vessel, looking out over the waste of waters, and wondering what was to be his future. It was quite dark, so that he was unable to see far.

He felt that this symbolized his own life. He could not see far ahead of him, and what he could see was obscure. He didn’t dream that he was in great peril, and yet the greatest danger of his life hung over him. Whence did it come? The night was still, and the waves were calm. Nature was kind, but the peril came from a human source.

All at once he felt himself lifted in a pair of powerful arms – lifted to a level with the rail, so that his startled eyes looked down in helpless fear upon the cruel waves beneath. He uttered a sharp cry, and this saved his life.

His stanch friend, Jack Staples, was close at hand. He sprang forward and grasped Professor Puffer by the throat, at the same time tearing Bernard from his grasp.

“You scoundrel!” ejaculated the indignant sailor.

“What are you’ about? Do you mean to murder the boy?”

Professor Puffer, who had thought himself quite unobserved, was as much startled as his victim had been, but he was shrewd and tricky.

He passed his hand to his forehead, as he fell back, and said, in a dazed tone: “What is the matter? Where am I?”

“Where are you?” retorted the incensed sailor. “If you were where you ought, to be, you would now be on the gallows.”

“What do you mean by your insolence, you low sailor?” exclaimed Puffer.

“I mean that I have a great mind to treat you as you were treating the boy. You were about to murder him, you scoundrel!”

“There is some mistake,” said Puffer. “I – I had a severe headache, and I was out of my head. I must have been walking in my sleep. What was I doing?”

“You were trying to throw the boy into the sea. You know that well enough.”

“Good heavens! You don’t mean it?” ejaculated Puffer, with well counterfeited horror. “I can’t believe it. And you prevented it?”

“Yes, I did. But for me, the boy would have been drowned.”

“My honest friend,” said the professor effusively, “you have done me a great – the greatest service. You have saved me from a terrible crime. Let me shake your hand!”

“No,” said Jack, drawing back, “I won’t take the hand of a murderer – leastways, of one who attempted to murder.”

“Don’t say that, my worthy friend. You hurt my feelings. At least, let me show my appreciation of your great service. Here’s a gold piece – ”

“Keep your money; I don’t want it,” said Jack scornfully.

“At any rate,” went on the professor, crestfallen, “let me hope that you will keep this unfortunate affair to yourself. It would do no good to reveal it, and it would put me in a false position.”

“I won’t promise anything,” said Jack suspiciously. “Only, if you try to hurt a hair of this boy’s head again I’ll have you in jail as soon as we reach port.”

“Oh, how you mistake me!” murmured the professor sadly. “Yet I cannot blame you. It certainly did look suspicious.”

“I should say it did.”

“And I cannot blame you for your very natural prejudice against me. How should you know my kindness of heart? I would not even harm an animal – much less a bright, promising boy, for whom I cherish a warm affection.”

Bernard was not deceived by the professor’s protestations. He had never noticed any affection on the part of his companion, and felt sure that the action was premeditated. He realized, that Puffer was only carrying out the instructions of his guardian, and that it was in this way he had decided to “get rid of him.”

“Stow that,” said Jack contemptuously. “You don’t deceive me with your smooth talk.”

“I must submit to your injustice, my worthy fellow, for I know that you are a true friend to the boy, and, therefore, I freely forgive you. But you, Bernard, I trust you acquit me of the terrible crime which this honest sailor thinks I premeditated?”

“I won’t express any opinion, Professor Puffer,” replied Bernard coldly. “I can only say that but for him you would have taken my life.”

“This is indeed hard,” whined the professor, “to feel that you hate and distrust me. But I will prove to you that I am a better friend than you think me. You asked me the other day for some money on account?”

“Yes, sir.”

“I said I would wait till we landed. Now I will voluntarily anticipate payment. Here are fifteen dollars. You can convert them into English money when you reach Liverpool.”

“I will take the money, Professor Puffer, because it is rightfully mine, but I cannot forget the terrible fate to which you attempted to consign me.”

“You will think better of me in time, Bernard. I can bring you a medical certificate to prove to you that I am subject to fits of sleep walking.”

“Have you ever attempted to kill any one in these fits before?”

“No, thank heaven! I can’t account for my action to-night. But it is getting late; we had better go to bed.”

“I will never occupy the stateroom with you again!” said Bernard hastily.

“Don’t be foolish,” returned the professor testily. “You surely don’t suppose you are in any further peril?”

“I don’t know about that. According to your own statement, you are subject to fits of sleep walking, when you are not responsible for what you do.”

“They occur only at rare intervals. The last one was two months since. Come to the stateroom. Your omission to do so will only create scandal.”

“Let it,” said Bernard resolutely. “It won’t be my fault. There is nothing that I am afraid to have revealed.”

“But can’t you see what a position it will put me in?”

“I can’t help that, Professor Puffer.”

“But you can’t go without sleep.”

“No, I shall not like to, but I would rather lie down on deck than occupy the stateroom with you.”

“You are making a fool of yourself,” said the professor, biting his lip.

“The lad is right,” said Jack. “He won’t have to sit up all night. There is a vacant bunk near mine, and if he isn’t too proud to sleep with rough sailors, he can pass the night there.”

“I will do it Jack,” said Bernard. “I haven’t any foolish pride. If the forecastle is fit for you to sleep in, it’s fit for me.”

He walked off with Jack, and Professor Puffer was left gnawing his lip.

“What a scrape I have got into!” he said to himself. “But for that rascally sailor the boy would have dropped into the water and that would have been the last of him. Then I would have got a thousand dollars from Mr. McCracken, and had a hold on him that would have amounted to a great deal more. As it is, unless the sailor and the boy keep silent, I shall be in the worst scrape of my life.”

A little reflection, however, allayed the fears of Professor Puffer. In a short time the boy and Jack would part company, and if Bernard ever brought up this subject again, and charged him with attempted murder, his testimony would be unsupported, and would carry very little weight with it, especially as Mr. McCracken would side with him against the boy.

Bernard slept that night in the forecastle, and enjoyed as good a night’s rest as usual. The next day he was transferred, at Mr. Puffer’s request, to a vacant stateroom, on the ground that he could not sleep as well with another person in the same room. The purser asked why he had waited so long before suggesting the change.

“I didn’t want to make trouble,” replied the professor carelessly.

As Professor Puffer agreed to pay extra for the additional stateroom, no objections were made, and henceforth – though it was only for three nights – Bernard had a room to himself.

Nothing more, happened worth noting till the Vesta reached Liverpool.

Bernard was exercised in mind. He had fully determined to leave the professor, but it was not necessary to do so immediately. He was afraid also that Puffer, claiming guardianship, would have him pursued if he fled from him. He would easily be able to establish the fact that Bernard was under his charge, and this might embarrass him.

“Come, Bernard,” said Professor Puffer, “I want you to get your luggage ready. We shall go ashore as soon as the custom officers have examined it.”

“Where are you going, sir?”

“To the Albion Hotel.”

“If I go with you, you must have a separate room for me.”

“Haven’t you got over that old folly? That will make an extra expense.”

“I can’t help that, sir. You have made it necessary.”

Professor Puffer was very angry, but he reflected that it would not be wise to make a fuss, as it would lead to a revelation from Bernard that would embarrass him, at the least, especially as Jack Staples was at hand ready to confirm any allegation that his ward might make.

“Very well,” he said shortly.

They were conveyed to the Albion Hotel, and a small room was assigned to Bernard, adjoining the larger one occupied by Professor Puffer.