A Struggle for a Fortune

A short time afterward, perhaps it was two or three hours, he heard a faint rustling outside the door, whereupon the dog left him and took up his stand directly in front of it to see what was going to happen. If it was the storekeeper and he wanted to know what was going on in the room, he had his trouble for his pains. Whatever it was that made the noise outside it finally ceased altogether and then everything was quiet.

This happened two or three times, and on each occasion Nat was sure that he was being watched; but every time the watcher went away without hearing or seeing anything suspicious. At last Nat heard some sounds coming from the store which indicated that the proprietor was going to shut up for the night; and then his heart began to beat more rapidly. The time for action was fast approaching. He heard the banging of shutters, the goods which had been outside for inspection during the day, were brought in and stood up beside the counter, and finally the storekeeper’s tread was heard outside the door. He tried the lock and found that it was safe.

“Are you all right in there?” Nat heard him inquire.

“As tight as you please,” answered Nat; “but in half an hour more I will be down the road,” he added, to himself.

“You don’t know anything about that money yet, I suppose?” said the man.

“How can I know anything about it when you have got it?” asked Nat. “You have hidden it away somewhere. The best thing you can do is to take it up and clear yourself before I get out.”

“You are going to make trouble for me, are you?” said the voice, angrily. “Well, if you get tired of waiting for grub just let me know. Good-by.”

“Good-by. And it will be a long time before you see me again,” said Nat mentally.

Nat knew when the storekeeper went out and locked the door behind him, and then he heard him go down the street. He knew that he did not sleep in the building but his house lay at some distance from the store, so the coast was clear at last. He resolved to make the attempt at once, being satisfied if he were well on the street it would take a better man than the storekeeper to overhaul him. It was but the work of a few seconds to go to the window and remove the hasp with which it was confined. As the shutter swung loose he found that the moon was shining brightly and that the ten miles that lay between him and Pond Post Office could be made easily as it could by broad daylight.

“Come along, Benny,” said Nat placing both hands upon the sill and springing up so that all he had to do was to drop his legs outside. “But maybe you don’t want to go.”

While Nat was talking about it he was free; and he afterward said that he never felt anything so good as he did when he found the solid earth under his feet once more. The dog made three attempts to follow him, but the window was rather high and all he could do was to get his fore feet upon the sill and each time he fell back making more noise than was agreeable to Nat. The next time he tried it Nat seized him by the thin skin on the back of his neck, and in a moment more he was standing by Nat’s side on the ground. We say he was standing by Nat’s side; but if the truth must be told, he was prancing around all over the ground as if he were overjoyed at finding himself at liberty once more.

“I will tell you what’s the matter with you,” said Nat, after he had looked carefully around him and had drawn a bee-line for the bars that led him out into the street. “You have been shut up and deprived of your freedom so long that you don’t know what to do with yourself when you are let out. Well, you stick to me and I will see that you are not shut up any more.”

Nat’s first impulse, when he found himself outside the bars, was to strike up a whistle; but before the first note had fairly left his lips he caught his breath and looked all around to see if there was anybody within hearing. The street was silent and deserted; but that was no sign that there was not somebody stirring in the houses by which he passed so rapidly. He felt of his roll of bills to make sure that he had it, and settled down into a good fast walk, turning his head occasionally to be certain that he was not followed. There was one thing that Nat kept saying to himself: “I have had a struggle for this fortune, and now that it is fairly within my grasp, nobody need think that I am going to give it up. If I don’t enjoy it, the money can stay there until it rots.”

The next thing that Nat had to decide upon was, as he expressed it, something else. He was free but his money was not free. The way to get his fortune to St. Louis was what troubled him; and he thought about it until he arrived within sight of Pond Post Office. He began to feel sleepy, too. It was then about two o’clock, so that he had to wait for five long hours before the single store of which the village could boast would be open and ready for business. So he climbed the fence, followed by the dog, found himself a comfortable place under the protection of a beech tree and stretched himself out and prepared to go into the land of dreams. That would have been considered a hard couch by some lads who are raised in the city, but Nat had so long been accustomed to hard things that he did not mind it. He slept until the sun was well up, and his dog kept watch over him.

“Now the next thing will be something to eat, Benny,” said Nat, pausing for a while in his operations of smoothing down his hair to pat the dog on the head. “I think you could eat a good breakfast, don’t you? I tell you what we will do: If they don’t have anything at the store worth eating, we will go to someone’s house and ask for a meal. I’ve got money to pay for it.”

Nat’s next duty was to take out his roll of bills and select enough to pay for his clothes and have a little left over for a bite to eat. When this had been done he put the balance of the roll back again, and the rest into his pocket where it would come handy. Then he climbed the fence and started for Pond Post Office again. He found very few people stirring there but the groceryman was up, and to him Nat at once addressed himself.

“You look as though you had something to eat here,” said he.

“Well, yes; that’s our business,” said the man, smiling upon Nat. “Gracious! What a horrid looking dog. Will he bite?”

“Not while I am around,” said Nat. “Have you got a suit of clothes! You see I need one badly enough.”

“Well, I should say you did. I was looking at your clothes when you came up. How big a priced one do you want! We have some for $5.00 and some as high as $20.00.”

“Let me see a sorter of betwixt and between,” said Nat, as he followed the man into the store. “Something that will do to wear between here and St. Louis.”

“Are you going as far as St Louis?” asked the man, in amazement. “Then you want something pretty nice. Now there’s a suit that will jest suit you.”

Nat had never bought any clothes before, and consequently he was rather awkward about it. As far as he could see the clothes were well made (the man took his measure around the chest and of the length of his leg to make sure that they would fit him) the price suited him and he took them on the spot. Then he needed a couple of shirts, two pairs of stockings and a pair of shoes and a hat; all of which he took upon the man’s recommendation, and so his trading was quickly done.

“Now I wish to get a couple of valises to put them into,” said Nat, looking around the store and trying to select the articles in question.

“One’s going to be enough for you,” said the man. “Now here is a valise – ”

“That is not the kind I want,” said Nat. “I want some old-fashioned carpet things, with a mouth like a catfish. You see I have lots of things to carry with me.”

“Are you going to walk?” asked the storekeeper, still more amazed. “Why, it must be as much as one hundred and fifty miles.”

“I don’t care how far it is, I have got to go there, unless I can find some person who is kind enough to give me a lift.”

“You can do that, of course; but I was just thinking that your legs will ache before you get there. Now you hold on a minute. I have two old carpet sacks in my garret that are doing no good to anybody, and if you will wait a minute I will bring them down to you.”

The man went to his drawer, put away the money that Nat had given him and went out, leaving him for the next ten minutes there alone in the store. What a chance it would have been for Nat to steal something; but the thought never came into his head. He was leaning back against the counter when the man left, and that was the way he was standing when he came back.

“Those are just the things,” said he, taking the carpet sacks and turning them over to see that there were no holes in them. “How much apiece for them?”

“Oh, a quarter; or, as you were raised in this country, two bits,” said the storekeeper, smiling at Nat. “How do I know that you were raised in this country? I know it by your looks. I was raised in New York. Now do you want something to eat? Well, come here. I don’t know whether I have anything that dog will eat or not. Where did you get that fellow? He would be just the one to guard a fellow’s melon patch, wouldn’t he? There, take your pick. It’s my treat.”

Nat knew enough about the ways of the country to know that the storekeeper was going to give him his provisions for nothing because of the dry goods he had purchased. The only things he could find were some crackers and cheese. He took enough of them as he thought to last him to Manchester and back, and then the groceryman excused himself once more and went into the back room with a huge knife in his hand. When he returned he brought with him a piece of fresh meat which he handed to the dog.

“I did some butchering yesterday, and I think that if that dog won’t eat anything else, he will eat fresh meat,” said he. “See him take it down.”

The dog did “take it down” and devoured his meal as if he were almost starved. It was no wonder that he wanted Nat for a master when he was going to get such good living as this. He put all the things he had purchased into one of his valises, bade the proprietor good-by and took his way back toward Manchester, feeling much lighter hearted than he did when he came down. But he did not go very far before he began looking up and down the road to see if anyone was watching him; and having satisfied his mind on this score he once more climbed the fence into the woods, and when he was safe from everybody’s view he stopped, and lowered his bundles to the ground.

“Now when I put these things down I am Nat, the tramp; and when I put on my other clothes, I am something else,” said he, taking his suit out and unfolding it before him. “Let us see how it looks to be dressed up as a white man.”

This was Nat’s object in getting so far away from the road so that he could make a change in his appearance. To take off the clothes he then had on did not require a second’s time, but it took more time than it did to put on the others. In fifteen minutes he was all dressed, and then he wished he had a looking glass to view himself. He certainly did look like a different person; and it is doubtful if any one who was acquainted with him had met him on the road, if he would have recognized him. His first care was to put what remained of his roll of bills safe in his vest pocket. There were no holes in the vest for the bills to work out, and when Nat tucked them away he felt that he was somebody.

“Now I am Nat Wood, gentleman,” said he, as he surveyed himself as well as he could by turning first one leg and then the other to make an estimate of himself. “I tell you it makes a fellow feel grand to be dressed up as I am. Supposing Caleb should see me now? Whoo-pe! He would not rest easy until he got these things on his own back.”

Having put away his old clothing in one of the valises – it is true the clothes were old but they might be of some assistance to him some day – he took a carpet sack in each hand and kept on his way toward Manchester. The dog did not know hardly what to make of it. He looked at Nat closely; for several minutes before he would follow him, and then he seemed to think it was all right and ran on as freely as he did before.

Nat did not go through Manchester; he knew too much for that. He went ahead until he saw the roofs of the houses, and then turned out into the fields and took a round-about course to bring him to the woods back of Mr. Nickerson’s yard. He was very still about it, halting every few feet to listen, and finally he stopped in a ravine where he threw his bundles off again. He was now within reach of the place where he had hidden his money. He wanted to be sure that his fortune was safe before he had anything to eat.

“Come this way, Benny; it is right out here,” said Nat. “If that is gone I am gone; but I don’t think there has anybody discovered it.”

Nat presently stood beside the log which concealed his treasure, but this time he was not satisfied with what he saw on the outside. The leaves and twigs were there as he had left them, but that did not suit him. He looked sharply through the woods in all directions, then kneeled down beside the log and with a few sweeps cleared away all the debris which he had placed there. The bags were where he had left them. He ran his hand over them and could distinctly feel the “yellow boys” with which they were filled.

“Thank goodness, it is all mine, and no one else has a right to lay a claim to any of it,” said Nat, as he pushed the twigs and branches back to their place. “Mr. Nickerson gave it to me before he died, he has neither kith nor kin to say that he owns it, and now if I can find some honest lawyer in St Louis to stand up for me, I am all right.”

This was a matter that created considerable confusion in Nat’s mind. He did not know where to go to find an honest lawyer, but he supposed that there must be some people who would look out for him if he only knew whom to speak to. As he had done a hundred times before he dismissed this matter with the thought that it would be time enough to attend to that when he reached St. Louis; and he turned to go back to the ravine where to solace himself with a handful of crackers and cheese.

CHAPTER XVI.

Benny, the Tramp

That was a long night to Nat Wood for, if the truth must be told, he did not once close his eyes in sleep. He had an opportunity to judge of the watchfulness of his new friend, for Benny seemed to be wide awake and never once forgot that everything depended on Nat’s vigilance. He lay close beside Nat on the leaves, and once or twice he raised his head and growled at something, but nothing came near to disturb them. At the first peep of day Nat arose from his couch, he and the dog finished what was left of the crackers and cheese and then the boy went to the place where he had left his treasure and filled up his carpet sacks; and when he had them loaded he was surprised at their weight. It did not seem possible that he could carry that gold one hundred and fifty miles.

“But I may strike a railroad before I have gone far,” said Nat, drawing in a long breath and picking up a valise in each hand. “I will go as straight South as I can go, and when I become tired of my burden I can put it down and rest. I will reach St. Louis or die in the attempt.”

Nat took good care to keep clear of the road until he had passed Manchester for fear that some one would see him and recognize him in spite of his new suit, and when at last he climbed the fence into the highway, he drew another long breath and went ahead with new zeal. He did not fail to look back occasionally to see if he were followed, but every time there was no one in sight, and he was more than once tempted to believe that his struggles were over; that the money was his own, and all he had to do was to hurry down to St. Louis and deposit it in the bank. But it would be a week at least, and perhaps two, before that would happen, and in the meantime he was resolved that he would go hungry and sleepless, too, but that his treasure should be safe.

Nat wanted to buy some more crackers and cheese and feed his dog before he left the country where he was known, and with this object in view he approached the store at which he had purchased his new suit. The man was busy sweeping out, but he knew Nat in spite of the wonderful change in his appearance.

“Well, sir, you got your things, didn’t you?” said he, with the smile which Nat had noticed on his face the day before. “You are off now, I suppose? But you must not try to walk all that distance. It is too far.”

“I am off now,” replied Nat. “But I should like to have some more crackers and cheese and a bite of fresh meat for Benny, if it is not too much trouble for you to get it.”

“Of course I can. I was thinking about you yesterday after you had been in here, and there is no need that you should walk all that distance. Follow this road about twenty miles and you will strike a little village called Bridgeport. There you will hit the Alton road, and all you have to do is to pay your fare and get on board. You have money enough for that, I suppose?”

Nat selected a couple of crackers and a liberal piece of cheese from the amount the grocer weighed out to him, saw his dog devour a huge piece of beef which had also been furnished to him, leaned against the counter to rest his tired limbs and pondered upon a thought that had just then occurred to him. He had never ridden on a railroad, he did not know what to do when he got there, but what would be done with Benny!

“But there is one thing about it,” said the man, giving utterance to the thought that was in Nat’s mind. “You can’t take your dog with you on a passenger train.”

“I have been thinking about that, and the best thing I can do is to go on foot all the way,” said Nat. “I can’t think of leaving Benny behind.”

“Of course I don’t know what rules they have with their freight trains,” said the man. “Perhaps they will let you take him with you, and perhaps they won’t. You can tell when you get to Bridgeport. Good-by. I hope you will get safe through.”

Nat picked up his valises again and left the store. It seemed now that Benny was a hindrance to him rather than a success, and for a minute or two he did not know but he would prefer to give him up than keep him. It did not seem possible that he could walk all the way to St Louis and carry his treasure besides, and he looked down at Benny who gazed back at him, and wagged his tail in a forlorn sort of way as if the man had given him a bad reputation.

“No, I won’t do it Benny,” said Nat, putting one of his valises on the ground long enough to pat the dog on the head. “I’ll keep you with me until the time comes for you to show what you are made of; then if you fail me, I will know what to do with you.”

Perhaps, when Nat came to think about it, it was better after all to keep the dog and trust to luck. There were plenty of persons who met him on the road who would have been glad to snatch his valises and make off with them, if they only knew how much was in them; and with Benny there to protect him he did not think they would attempt it. So Benny was accepted on sufferance.

Nat had not proceeded very far on his road before he heard the sound of wheels behind him, and in a few minutes a man drove by in a lumber wagon. The man looked down at Nat and then pulled up his team.

“Soger, would you work?” said he, with a laugh. “You have a heavy load there. Are you going fur?”

“I am going down to Bridgeport,” said Nat. “If you have a place for me I shall be glad to get in.”

“You are as welcome as the flowers in May,” said the man. “Climb in. Gosh! What an ugly looking dog you have. Will he bite?”

“He has never bitten anybody since I had him,” said Nat, lifting his carpet sacks one after the other and putting them into the wagon with a good deal of trouble. “He won’t bite if he is let alone.”

“Well, you just bet your bottom dollar that I won’t interfere with him. What you got in there? It seems mighty heavy.”

“Yes. It is some tools that I work with. Do you know anybody in Bridgeport?”

This question got the man off on a new subject, and during the ride to Bridgeport, and he went all the way so that Nat had his arms well rested by the time they got there, he never referred to the contents of the valises again. Benny ran along the wagon in front of him, and every time the man saw him he would remark on his savage appearance, and say that he did not see what a man could be thinking of to have such an ill-looking brute hanging around him. The man had been in the Confederate army, too, and during the ride he kept Nat interested in his exploits, until Nat was really surprised when he pointed to the roofs of some houses in the distance and said:

“We are near our journey’s end at last. There is Bridgeport Did you say that you wanted to get out at the depot? Well, I am going right there.”

After a few cracks with the whip and turning several corners the man drew up at a long, low building, and Nat, after thanking him for his kindness, took his valises and got out. Presently he was standing in front of an open window, on the other side of which, on a high stool, was perched a clerk who was busy smoking a cigar.

“Well, my friend, what can I do for you on this fine morning?” was the way he greeted Nat.

“I want to know what is the fare to St Louis,” said Nat.

“Eight seventy-five,” said the clerk, laying down his cigar and reaching for a ticket “Do you want to go there?”

“Yes, sir; but I want to know in the first place whether or not you will take my dog on a passenger train,” said Nat.

“Where’s the dog?”

“He is right here.”

“Hold him up so that I can see him.”

“I can’t. He is too heavy.”

The clerk reached for his cigar again, got down from his stool and unlocked the door leading into his room. He came out of it, but He went back in less time than it takes to tell it.

“Good Lord! Do you want to take that beast on the train?” said he. He vanished in his room on the instant and closed the door, all except a little opening through which he talked to Nat. “No, sir. There is not a baggage-smasher on the road who will take charge of that dog between here and St. Louis. You must be crazy.”

“Well, would they take him on a freight train?”

“Cer-tainly not. We want to have some men to handle the freight train when they get to St. Louis, don’t we?”

“I suppose you do; but what is the reason you can’t have them any way?”

“Why, that dog will eat the train men all up, if he once gets in action. No, sir. You can’t take that beast on any train on this road.”

“Then I don’t see any way but for me to go on foot,” said Nat, who was very much disappointed.

“That’s the only way that I know of, unless you will kill the dog.”

“I won’t do that, you bet. Does this road go straight to St. Louis?”

“As straight as a die, and that’s the way,” said the clerk, pointing out the direction. “I don’t see what you want with that thing. The best thing you can do is to kill him.”

Nat picked up his valises, walked slowly out of the other side of the depot and looked down the track. For miles it was perfectly straight, and there was not another house within sight. His arms ached awfully when he thought of the many miles of such track he would have to face during his tramp, but he never once was guilty of a traitorous thought to Benny. They were in for it, and the sooner they started in on it, the sooner it would be done.

“Now the first thing to be done, Benny, is to lay in a lot of provisions,” said Nat, as if the dog could understand every word he said. “And the next thing is to start on our way. Let us go down this way and see what we can find.”

Nat had set out with the intention of finding a grocery store and a butcher shop at which to purchase his provisions, but he had not made many steps before he found one much sooner than he had expected; or rather, some thing who kept guard over it saw him coming down the street and sprang to meet him half way. It was the big dog which kept watch over the butcher stand. He saw Benny, he did not like the looks of him and proceeded to let him know it in language that anybody could understand. He came at full speed down the road, seize Benny by the neck and rolled him over in the gutter. They were both fair sized dogs, and those who saw the movement were pretty certain that they were about to witness a good fight; but it was all over in less than two seconds, Benny seemed surprised to find himself in the gutter, turned his head to see who it was that had dared to molest him and went to work in earnest to put a stop to it. He seized his assailant by the foreleg, but before he had taken a fairly good hold the butcher’s dog set up a fearful howl, slunk out of the fight as quickly as he could and limping on three legs, howling at every jump, he went back to his place in the butcher’s shop. A moment later the butcher appeared. Nat knew that it was the butcher, for his coat was off, he had his apron on and his sleeves were rolled up.