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BOB BURTON
The Young Ranchman of Missouri
By HORATIO ALGER, Jr.
Author of ''Ben Bruce," " Bernard Brooks' Adventures,"
"A Debt of Honor," " Mark Manning's Mission,''
"The Train Boy," etc. etc.
A. L. BURT COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
NEW YORK
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2011 with funding from
University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
http://www.archive.org/details/bobburtonyoungraOOalge
BOB BURTON
CHAPTER I
MR. BURTON'S RANCH
"Harness up the colt, Clip; I'm going to the
village."
"All right, massa."
"What makes you call me massa? One would
think I were a slave owner."
"Can't help it, massa. There, I done forgot it
ag'in," said Clip, showing his white teeth — preter-
naturally white they showed in contrast with his
coal-black skin. "You see, I used to say that to my
old massa down in Arkansaw."
"What's my name, Clip?"
"Mister Burton."
"Then call me Mr. Burton. Now, go, and don't
waste any time."
"All right, massa."
2 BOB BURTON
"That boy's incorrigible," said Richard Burton
to himself. "He hasn't got out of his early ways
yet; careless and shiftless as he is, I believe he is
devoted to me and my family."
Clip, as may be inferred, was a negro boy, now
turned of fourteen, who for four years had been
attached to the service of Richard Burton, a ranch-
man, whose farm lay on a small stream tributary to
the Missouri, in the fertile State of Iowa. He had
fled from his master in the northern part of Ar-
kansas, and, traveling by night and secreting him-
self by day, had finally reached Iowa, where he
found a safe refuge in the family of Mr. Burton.
Indeed, he had been picked up by Bob Burton, a
boy a year older than himself, who had brought
him home and insisted on his father taking charge
of the young fugitive. On a large ranch there was
always something to do, and Clip was soon made
useful in taking care of the horses, in doing errands
and in many odd ways.
While waiting for the wagon, Mr. Burton went
into the house and sought his wife.
"Mammy," he said, "I am going to the village
to pay Wolverton his interest."
"I wish he didn't hold the mortgage, Richard,"
said Mrs. Burton, looking up from her work.
"So do I, but why is it any the worse for him to
hold it than for any one else?"
"Richard, you may think me foolish and fanci-
BOB BURTON 3
ful, but I distrust that man. It is impressed upon
my mind that he will some day do us harm."
"That is foolish and fanciful, in good truth,
mammy. Now Wolverton seems to me a — well, not
exactly an attractive man, but good-natured and
friendly. When I needed three thousand dollars
last spring, on account of a poor crop and some
extra expenses, he seemed not only willing, but
really glad to lend it to me."
"He took a mortgage on the ranch," said Mary
Burton, dryly.
"Why, of course. He is a man of business, you
know. You wouldn't expect him to lend the money
without security, would you?"
"And you pay him a large interest?"
"Ten per cent."
"There isn't much friendship in lending money
on good security at ten per cent., Richard."
"Oh, you put things in a wrong way, Mary.
Money is worth ten per cent, out here, and, of
course, I didn't want Wolverton to lose money by
me. He could get that interest elsewhere."
"You are very -unsuspecting, Richard. You
credit everybody with your own true, unselfish
nature."
"Why, that's a compliment, Mary," laughed the
husband, "and deserves a kiss."
He bent over and touched his wife's cheek with
his lips.
4 BOB BURTON
Mary Burton had reached the age of thirty-six,
and was no longer in her first youth, but her face
seemed even more lovelier than when he married
her, so Richard Burton thought. He, too, was a
man of fine presence, with a frank, open face, that
invariably won the favor of those who met him for
the first time. He was in the full vigor of man-
hood, and when he and his wife attended the Meth-
odist Church on Sundays, many eyes were attracted
by the handsome couple. They had one son, Bob,
who will soon receive attention.
"I have a great mind, Richard, to tell you why I
distrust and fear Aaron Wolverton," said his wife,
after a slight pause.
"I wish you would, Mary. Perhaps, when I
know, I can talk you out of your apprehension."
"Did you ever know that Aaron Wolverton was
once a suitor for my hand?"
Richard Burton burst into an explosive laugh.
"What ! That dried-up old mummy had the pre-
sumption to offer you his hand!"
"He actually did, Richard," said Mrs. Burton,
smiling.
"I wonder you did not laugh in his face. Why,
the man is fifteen years older than I am, twenty
years older than you."
"That difference is not unprecedented. I did not
reject him because he was older than myself. If
BOB BURTON 5
you had been as old as he when you offered your-
self, I think I would have accepted you."
"Poor, old fellow ! Did he take it hard !" asked
Burton, half jocosely.
"If you mean did he show any traces of a broken
heart, I answer no. But when, after pressing his
suit persistently, he found my resolution to be in-
flexible, his face became distorted with passion. He
swore that he would be revenged upon me some
day, and that if I dared to marry anyone else he
would never rest till he had brought harm to the
husband of my choice."
"I wish I had been there. I would have made
him take back those words, or I would have horse-
whipped him."
"Don't take any notice of them, Richard," said
Mary Burton, hastily. "It will be much better."
"I agree with you," said her husband, his quick
anger melting. "After all, the old fellow's disap-
pointment was so great that I can excuse a little
impetuosity, and even rudeness. You see, Mary,
Wolverton isn't a gentleman."
"No; and never will be."
"He acted as his nature prompted. But it was
all over years ago. Why, Mary, he is always
friendly with me, even if I am your husband."
"That is on the outside, Richard ; but I fear he
is crafty. He is like an Indian ; his thirst for ven-
geance keeps alive."
6 BOB BURTON
"Admitting all that, though I don't, what harm
can he do, Mary, while I am here to protect you ?"
and the husband expanded his breast in conscious
strength, and looked down proudly on his fair wife.
"Why, I could wring his neck with only one hand."
"Well, perhaps I am foolish, Richard," the wife
admitted.
"Of course you are, Mary."
Just then Clip put his head inside the door.
"De hoss is ready, massa," he said.
"All right, Clip. I'll come right out."
Richard Burton kissed his wife hastily, and went
out.
As he closed the door, a bright, handsome boy,
strongly made and bearing a resemblance to both
father and mother, entered.
"Hello, mother! Are you all right?" he asked.
"I hope so, Robert."
"You look serious, as if you were worrying over
something."
"I was thinking of Mr. Wolverton. Your father
has gone to pay him interest on the mortgage."
"Wolverton is a mean, old hunks. He's got a
nephew living with him, a boy about my age. He
works him nearly to death, and I am sure the poor
boy doesn't get half enough to eat."
"I was wishing your father didn't owe money to
such a man."
"Oh, well, mother, there's no use in worrying.
BOB BURTON 7
It's only three thousand dollars, and if we have a
good crop next year father will be able to pay off
at least half of it. You can see we've got a splendid
ranch, mother. There isn't another within twenty
miles where the land is as rich."
"I shall be glad to see the day when the mort-
gage is wholly paid off, and we are out of debt."
"So shall I, mother."
"Does Mr. Wolverton ever take any notice of
you, Robert?"
"He took some notice of me this morning,"
laughed Bob. "That reminds me. I just left three
prairie chickens with Rachel in the kitchen."
"Did you shoot them this morning, Robert?"
"Yes, mother; you see, I have my hunting clothes
on. But I shot two more. I was bringing them
home across a field of Wolverton's, when the old
fellow suddenly made his appearance, and, charg-
ing me with shooting them on his land, laid claim
to them. I denied the charge, and told him I pro-
posed to keep them. With that he seized me by
the collar, and we had a rough-and-tumble fight for
five minutes."
"Oh, Robert, how impudent!"
"Well, mother, it was more than flesh and blood
could stand. The upshot of it was that I left him
lying on his back trembling with rage. I threw
down two of the chickens to appease him. I hope
he'll have them for dinner, and Sam'll get a share
8 BOB BURTON
of them. The poor fellow is half starved. I don't
believe he gets a square meal once a week."
"I am afraid you have made an enemy of Mr.
Wolverton, Robert."
"I can't help it, mother. Would you have me
bow down to him, and meekly yield up my rights?"
"But, Robert, to get into a fight with a man so
much older!"
"I don't want to get into any difficulty, mother.
It was forced upon me. Besides, I left him two of
the chickens."
"Was Clip with you?"
"I reckon I was, missis," said Clip, displaying
his ivories. "I laughed like to split when Massa
Bob laid de old man down on his back. Wasn't he
jest ravin' ? Wouldn't have lost dat sight, missis,
for de biggest watermillion I ever seed."
Mrs. Burton smiled, but her smile was a faint
one. She knew Aaron Wolverton, and she feared
that some time or other he would try to be re-
venged on Bob.
BOB BURTON
CHAPTER II
AARON WOLVERTON
Richard Burton drove rapidly to the village.
I may state here that the name of the township was
Carver. Like most Western villages, it consisted
principally of one long, central street, containing
buildings of all sizes and descriptions, from a three-
story hotel to a one-story office. But there seemed
to be a good deal going on all the time — much more
than in an Eastern town of the size. Western peo-
ple are active, progressive, never content to stand
still. In the drowsy atmosphere that pervades
many an Eastern country town they would stag-
nate, but there perpetual motion is the rule.
Everybody in Carver knew Richard Burton.
Everybody liked him, also; he was easy and social
with all. I have said everybody, but I must make
one exception, and that was the man on whom he
now proposed to call.
About midway on the main street was a small,
one-story building, about twelve feet square. Above
the door was a sign :
io BOB BURTON
AARON WOLVERTON,
Real Estate Agent.
Mr. Wolverton had considerable capital, which
he was in the habit of lending on mortgage, always
for a large interest, and on substantial security.
He was supposed to t : rich, but did not live like a
rich man. His dwelling lay a little way back from
the street; it was small, cramped and uncomforta-
ble, and his style of living was of the most economi-
cal character. He was a bachelor, and the only
other members of his family were his sister, Sally
Wolverton, who resembled her brother in person
and character, and a i ephew, Sam, the son of a
brother, who came in for a liberal share of ill treat-
ment from the undo, on whom he was dependent.
Richard Burton reined up in front of Wolver-
ton's office, and, leaping from his carriage, uncere-
moniously opened the outer door.
"Good morning, Wolverton," he said, cheerily.
Aaron Wolverton, a meager and wrinkled man
of fifty-five, looked up from his desk, and scanned
his visitor's face attentively. He was not sure but
Richard Burton, who was a high-spirited man, had
come to take him to task for his attack upon Bob a
short time before. Whenever he thought of it, he
BOB BURTON n
fairly trembled with rage and humiliation, for the
boy had conquered him, and he knew it.
Burton's words reassured him.
"I have come to pay interest on the mortgage,
Wolverton. I suppose you haven't forgotten that?"
. "No."
"Catch you forgetting a thing of that kind. That
wouldn't be like you."
"I suppose you don't want to lift the mortgage ?"
"No; it is all I can do to pay the interest. The
first six months have passed remarkably quick."
"Not to me."
"No; for you are to receive money, I to pay it.
It makes all the difference in the world. I suppose
you are not in need of the money ?"
"No, not at present," answered Wolverton,
slowly; "but if I had it I could get higher interest."
"Higher interest ! Isn't ten per cent, enough for
you?"
"Nothing is enough, as long as I can get more."
"Come, Wolverton, don't be such a money grab-
ber. You must be rolling in money."
The old man shrugged his shoulders in depreca-
tion.
"Times are dull, and — I lose money sometimes,"
he said.
"Not much, if you know it," said Burton, jocose-
ly. "Well, just write a receipt for six months in-
terest, one hundred and fifty dollars."
12 BOB BURTON
Aaron Wolverton took the proffered bills, eying
them with eager cupidity, and put them away in his
desk. Then he made out a receipt, and handed it
to his visitor.
"You will be paying the mortgage next year?"
he said, inquiringly.
"I don't know, Wolverton. If the crops are
good, I may pay a part. But I am afraid I am not
a very good manager. I can't save money like you,
and that brings me round to the question : For
whom are you piling up all this wealth? Is it for
Sam?"
"Sam is a young loafer," said Wolverton, with a
frown. "I give him a home and his living, and he
is almost too lazy to breathe."
"You were not that way at his age?"
"No. I worked early and late. I was a poor
boy. All that I have I made by hard work."
"Take my advice, Wolverton, and get the worth
of it while you live. But perhaps you are saving
with a view to matrimony. Ha, ha !"
And Richard burst into a ringing laugh.
Wolverton puckered up his face and snarled :
"Why shouldn't I marry if I choose? What is
there to laugh at?"
"No reason at all. I advise you to marry. You
ought to, for I have found happiness in marrying
one of the sweetest women in the world."
"Then without any apparent reason, remember-
BOB BURTON 13
ing that the man before him had aspired to the
hand of his wife, he burst into another laugh, which
he kept up till the tears ran from his eyes. He
didn't notice the evil expression which it called up
in the face of the money lender.
"I'd like to kill him where he stands," thought
Aaron Wolverton. "She must have told him about
me. Curse him ! he stole her from me, and now he
dares to laugh in my face !"
But Wolverton was not a man to indulge even
his evil temper when it was impolitic to do so. He
forced himself to look indifferent, and merely said :
"Let them laugh that win, Mr. Burton. Per-
haps my time may come some day."
"Perhaps it may, Wolverton. I heartily hope
that you may find some one to make your life
happy. I am happy myself, and I like to see others
happy."
There was a little more conversation, and then
Richard Burton went out.
"Good-by, Wolverton. Come to my ranch some-
time. I'll give you a seat at supper, and we will
smoke a cigar afterward."
The colt — for it was scarcely more than that —
was getting restless. It was pawing the ground and
evidently anxious to get away.
"Your horse has a bad temper, Mr. Burton,"
said Wolverton.
J4 BOB BURTON
"Yes, he needs taming. He's not well trained
yet."
"There's something more than that," Wolverton
said to himself, thoughtfully. "Horses are like
men — they often have nasty tempers. I wouldn't
ride behind that brute for — for the money Burton
has just paid me. Some day he'll get upset, or
thrown. And if he does," he continued, after a
pause, "why should I lament? He has taken from
me the only woman I ever loved. She might have
made a different man of me — perhaps."
Just then a boy came up the street. He stopped
and eyed Aaron Wolverton, with a little misgiving.
"Sam," said Wolverton, sharply, "what kept you
so long? Do you want the strap again?"
"Indeed, uncle, I hurried as fast as I could. Mr.
Jenks kept me waiting."
"That is probably a lie," growled Wolverton.
"However, since you are here, go in to your dinner.
It is cold by this time, most likely."
It was cold and uninviting, but Sam could not
afford to be dainty, and ate what was set before
him by his aunt.
BOB BURTON 15
CHAPTER III
A LITTLE RETROSPECT
Richard Burton, three years previous to the
opening of this story, was a dry-goods merchant in
St. Louis. Becoming tired of the dull routine of
his daily life, and with a wistful remembrance of
the country, where he had passed his boyhood, he
sold out his business for a few thousand dollars,
and with the sum realized bought a large ranch
located on a small river or creek running into the
Missouri.
In taking this course he was influenced in no
small degree by a city acquaintance, Aaron Wol-
verton, who six months before had located himself
in the same township, and who, indeed, had made
the purchase of the ranch on his behalf. Wolver-
ton made a large commission on the transaction —
larger than Richard Burton was aware ; but it must
be admitted he had bought him an excellent prop-
erty. Burton was entirely unacquainted with the
fact that Wolverton had at an earlier period been
an unsuccessful suitor for his wife's hand, nor did
1 6 BOB BURTON
he know it till the morning on which our story
opens.
It is always rather a hazardous experiment when
a man, engaged till middle life in other business,
becomes a tiller of the soil without special training
for his new occupation. Few persons make farm-
ing profitable, however well qualified, and the St. ,
Louis merchant was hardly likely to do more than
make a living. In fact, he did not make both ends
meet, but fell behind every year till he felt com-
pelled to borrow three thousand dollars on mort-
gage of Aaron Wolverton. His wife expressed
uneasiness, but he laughed away her remonstrances,
and assured her he should be able to pay it back in
a couple of years, if fortune favored him with good
crops.
"You know, Mary," he said, cheerfully, "there
are a good many extra expenses just at first, but it
will be different in future. Wolverton assures me
that the ranch is a fine one, and that I can pay him
back sooner than he desires, for he is glad to lend
on such excellent security."
Mrs. Burton was silent, but she was not con-
vinced.
Robert Burton, popularly called Bob, was the
only son of the ex-merchant. He thoroughly en-
joyed the removal to the country, having a taste for
manly sports. He usually spent a part of the day in
study, reciting to a clergyman in the village, and
BOB BURTON 17
the rest of his time he employed in hunting, fishing
and farm work. Clip, the young refugee, was his
chosen companion, and was sincerely attached to
Massa Bob, as he generally called him. The negro
lad was full of fun and innocent mischief, but had
no malice about him. Bob tried to teach him to
read, but Clip was no scholar. He complained that
study made his head ache.
"But you ought to know something, Clip," ex-
postulated Bob. "You don't want to grow up an
ignoramus."
"What's dat?" asked Clip, bewildered. "Never
heard such a long word. Is it anything very bad?"
"It means a know-nothing, Clip."
"I guess you're right, Massa Bob. Dat's what
I am."
"But don't it ti. ie you, Clip?"
"No, Massa Boo , uess I was never cut out for
a scholar."
Still Bob persevered in his effort to teach Clip.
One day, after an unsuccessful attempt to get
him to understand the difference between capital
B and R, he said: "Clip, I don't believe you have
got any sense."
"Spec's I haven't, Massa Bob," answered Clip,
philosophically. "How many have you got?"
Bob laughed.
"I don't know exactly," he replied! "but I hope
I have as many as the average."
1 8 BOB BURTON
"I reckon you've got a lot. You learn awful
easy."
"I am afraid I shall have to learn for both of
us, Clip."
"Dat's so," said Clip, in a tone of satisfaction.
"Dat'll do just as well."
So Bob was finally obliged to give up teaching
Clip in despair. He was led to accept the conclu-
sion of his young protege that he was never meant
for a scholar.
In one respect Bob and Clip shared the preju-
dices of Mrs. Burton. Neither liked Aaron Wol-
verton. They felt friendly, however, to Sam Wol-
verton, the nephew; and more than once Sam, with
his appetite unsatisfied at home, came over to Bur-
ton's Ranch and enjoyed a hearty lunch, thanks to
the good offices of Bob Burton.
One day he came over crying, and showed the
marks of a severe whipping he had received from
his uncle.
"What did you do, Sam ?" asked Bob.
Sam mentioned the offense, which was a trifling
one, and unintentional besides.
"Your uncle is a brute," said Bob, indignantly.
"Dat's so, Sam," echoed Clip.
"It would do me good to lay the whip over his
shoulders."
Sam trembled, and shook his head. He was a
BOB BURTON 19
timid boy, and such an act seemed to him to border
on the foolhardy.
"How old are you, Sam ?"
"Fourteen."
"In seven years you will be a man, and he can't
tyrannize over you any longer."
"I don't believe I shall live so long," said Sam,
despondently.
"Yes, you will. Even in four years, when you
are eighteen, your uncle won't dare to beat you."
"Why don't you run away, like I did?" asked
Clip, with a bright idea.
But Sam was not of the heroic type. He shrank
from throwing himself on the world.
"I should starve," he said. "Would you run
awav, Clip, if you were in my place?"
"Wouldn't I just!"
"And you, Bob?"
"He wouldn't strike me but once," said Bob,
proudly.
"It's all well enough for you, but I think I'm a
coward. When my uncle comes at me my heart
sinks into my boots, and I want to run away."
"You'll never make a hero, Sam."
1 "No, I won't. I'm an awful coward, and I
know it."
"How is your aunt? Is she any better than your
uncle?"
"She's about the same. She don't whip me, but
20 BOB BURTON
she's got an awful rough tongue. She will scold till
she's out of breath."
"How long have you lived with your uncle?"
"About four years. When my father died, he
told me to go to Uncle Aaron."
"Didn't he leave any property?"
"Uncle Aaron says he didn't leave a cent, and I
suppose it's so; but father told me in his last sick-
ness there'd be some property for me."
"I've no doubt there was, and he cheated you out
of it," said Bob, indignantly. "That's just my
opinion of your uncle."
"Even if it is so, I can't do anything. It'll do no
good. But I'd like to know how it is, for Uncle
Aaron is all the time twitting me with living on
him."
"As if you don't do enough to earn your own
living. Why, you work harder than Clip, here,
though that isn't saying much," added Bob, with a
smile.
Clip showed his white teeth, and seemed to enjoy
the joke.
"Spec's I was born lazy," he said, promptly.
"Dat ain't my fault, ef I was born so."
"That wouldn't be any excuse with Uncle
Aaron," remarked Sam. "He thinks I'm lazy, and
says he means to lick the laziness out of me."
"I think we had better hire out Clip to him. He
needs a little discipline of that sort."
BOB BURTON 21
"Oh, golly, Massa Bob! I couldn't stand it
nohow," said Clip, with a comical expression of
alarm. "Massa Wolverton's the meanest white
man I ever seed. Wish an earthquake would come
and swallow him up."
"Your father was round to see my uncle this
morning," said Sam.
"Yes, I know; he went to pay him some interest
money."
"Your father is a nice gentleman. I wish I was
his nephew," said poor Sam, enviously.
"Yes, Sam; he's always kind. He's a father to
be proud of."
"By the way, Sam, I've got some good news for
you."
"What is it, Bob?"
"Your uncle carried home a pair of prairie
chickens this morning. You'll have one good din-
ner, at least."
"Where did he get them?"
"I shot them."
"And ypu gave them to him?" asked Sam, sur-
prised.
"Well, yes, after a little squabble," and Bob re-
lated the adventure of the morning.
"How brave you are, Bob!" said Sam, admir-
ingly. "You actually had a quarrel with Uncle
Aaron?"
"Yes," answered Bob, with a smile. "When I
22 BOB BURTON
got through, your uncle was lying on his back rest-
ing. I threw down two of the chickens, as much
for your sake as any other reason. I hope you'll
get your share."
"I saw the chickens in the kitchen before I came
away, and wondered where they came from. I
knew Uncle Aaron wouldn't buy them."
"Has your uncle got a gun?"
"No; I think he's afraid of a gun."
"And you are afraid of him?"
"I can't help it, Bob. He flogs me sometimes
with a horsewhip."
"I'd like to see him try it on me," said Bob, with
emphasis. "But as I said before, you'll be a man
sometime, Sam, and then he won't dare touch you."
BOB BURTON 23
CHAPTER IV
THE SUDDEN SUMMONS
When Richard Burton left the office of Aaron
Wolverton, he did not return home immediately.
He had a business call to make in the next town-
ship, and drove over there. Finding that he was
likely to be detained, he went to the hotel to dine,
and, the day being warm, sat on the piazza and
smoked a cigar afterward. It was not until four
o'clock that he turned his horse's head in the direc-
tion of Carver.
The horse he drove was young and untrained.
It would have been dangerous for an unskillful
driver to undertake to manage him. Robert Bur-
ton, however, thoroughly understood horses, and
was not afraid of any, however fractious. But he
had been persuaded to drink a couple of glasses of
whisky by acquaintances at the hotel, and he was
easily affected by drink of any kind. So his hand
was not as strong or steady as usual when he started
on his homeward journey.
24 BOB BURTON
The horse seemed instinctively to know that
there was something the matter with his driver,
and, as he turned back his head, knowingly, he pre-
pared to take advantage of it. So he made himself
more troublesome than usual, and Burton became
at first annoyed and then angry.
"What ails you, you vicious brute?" he ex-
claimed, frowning. "You need a lesson, it seems."
He gave a violent twitch to the reins, more vio-
lent than he intended, and the animal swerved aside
suddenly, bringing one wheel of the wagon into
forcible collision with a tree by the roadside. This,
coming unexpectedly, threw Richard Burton vio-
lently from his seat, and he was pitched out of the
carriage, his head being thrown with force against
the tree which had been the occasion of the shock.
There was a dull, sickening thud, and the poor
man lay insensible, his eyes closed and his breast
heaving.
The horse detached himself from the wagon and
ran home — they were within half a mile of the vil-
lage now — leaving his driver without sense or mo-
tion beside the wrecked wagon.
He had lain there not over twenty minutes, when
a pedestrian appeared upon the scene.
It was Aaron Wolverton who was on his way to
the house of a tenant to collect rent. He had been
walking with his eyes fixed upon the ground, think-
ing intently, when all at once, raising his eyes, he
BOB BURTON 25
started in amazement at the sight of the wrecked
carriage and the prostrate man.
"Who can it be?" he asked himself in excite-
ment.
His eyes were failing, and he could not distin-
guish, till close at hand, the person of the stricken
man.
"Robert Burton!" he exclaimed in excitement,
when at last he discovered who he was. "How on
earth did this happen?"
He bent over the prostrate man and placed his
hand upon his heart. Alas ! it had already ceased
to beat. The features wore a startled and troubled
look, the reflection of the feelings excited by the
collision.
"Well, well!" exclaimed Wolverton, awed in
spite of himself by the sight, "who would have
dreamed of this? and only this morning he called
on me to pay his interest."
There was a sudden suggestion, begotten of his
greed, that entered that instant into WolvertonY
mind.
"He can't have gone home since," he bethought
himself. "He must have the receipt with him."
Even if he had, what did it concern Wolverton ?
The money had been paid, but there was no evi-
dence of it except the receipt which he had given
him.
With trembling fingers, Wolverton, bending
26 BOB BURTON
over, searched the clothes of the dead man, half
turning his eyes away, as if he feared to meet Rob-
ert Burton's look.
At last he found it. Burton had thrust it care-
lessly into his vest pocket.
With a furtive look, to see if he were observed,
Aaron Wolverton put the receipt into his own
pocket. Then he rose to his feet, and turned to go
away. He had no desire to remain any longer by
the side of the dead.
Meanwhile the horse had dashed into the village
at wild speed. Now it happened that Clip, sent on
an errand to the store by Mrs. Burton, was in the
village. His eyes opened wide when he saw the
horse dash by him.
"What's datmean?" Clip asked himself, staring
with all his eyes at the runaway horse. "What's
come of Massa Burton? Must have been an acci-
dent. Wagon must have upset, and — golly 1 1 hope
Massa Burton isn't killed nor not'ing."
Clip was alive with excitement. He had the
sense not to attempt to follow the horse, but ran
as fast as he could in the direction from which the
horse had come. There, he argued, must be the
wagon and its rider.
It was a straight road, and he was not long in
reaching the scene of the casuality. He came in
sight of it at the moment when Aaron Wolverton
BOB BURTON 27
was bending over the prostrate man, and searching
his pockets.
Here was another surprise to Clip. "What is
Massa Wolverton doing?" he asked himself. He
was sure he was not up to any good, for, as we have
already seen, he had no love for the real-estate
agent, and thought him a very bad man. Clip had
no small share of curiosity, and, intent on finding
out what Wolverton was doing, he slid behind a
tree about a foot in diameter, which happened to be
conveniently situated. Grief struggled with curios-
ity, for Clip had already seen the wrecked team and
the prostrate figure of his kind master, to whom he
felt warmly attached.
"Poor Massa Burton! I hope he isn't dead,"
thought Clip. "Jes' as soon as old Wolverton goes
away I'll go up and look. Won't Mrs. Burton feel
bad?"
All the while Clip was watching the movements
of the real-estate agent.
"What's he searchin' Massa Burton's pockets
for?" he asked himself. "Spec's he's going to rob
him. Didn't think the old man was so mean before.
I'd jes' like to jump out and scare him."
Meanwhile Wolverton finished his discreditable
business, happily unconscious that anyone was wit-
ness of his crime. Then, as already stated, he got
up and walked swiftly away, not venturing to look
back. Had he done so he would have seen Clip
28 BOB BURTON
stealing from behind the tree which had served to
screen him from observation, and running toward
the wreck,
Clip had never before seen death, but there was
something in the mute look of Richard Burton that
awed the soul of the colored boy.
Clip had an affectionate heart. He felt that
Richard Burton must be dead, and the thought
overpowered him.
"Poor Massa Burton!" he cried, bursting into
tears. "He's done dead, sure 'nough. Oh, what
will we do?"
A minute later Clip bounded off like a deer, to
carry the sad news to the village.
He met the village doctor driving along in his
top buggy and he quickly called out to him: "Go
quick, Massa Doctor, for de love of God. Poor
Massa Burton's upset himself, and I 'spec's he's
dead."
"Whereabouts, Clip?" demanded the doctor,
startled.
"Up the road a piece."
"Jump in with me and show me."
So Clip, seated beside the doctor, guided him to
the fatal spot.
The doctor lost no time in jumping out of his
buggy and approached the fallen man. He didn't
need to feel his pulse, or place his hand over his
BOB BURTON 29
heart. To his practiced eye there were other indi-
cations that disclosed the terrible truth.
"Is he dead?" asked Clip, in an awed voice.
"Yes, Clip ; your poor master is dead," answered
the doctor sadly.
He had known Richard Burton well, and, like
all the rest of his neighbors, had a warm esteem for
him.
"How did this happen, Clip?" he asked.
"I don't know, Massa Doctor; 'deed I don't,"
answered Clip. "I was walkin' along, when I saw
the colt runnin' like mad, wid his harness on, and I
'spected something had happened. So I came up,
and dat's what I saw."
"We can't do anything, Clip, except to see that
he is carried home. I dread to break the news to
his poor wife."
Meanwhile Aaron Wolverton had locked him-
self in his office. He drew the receipt from his
pocket, read it through carefully, and chuckled :
"I'll get the money out of the widder. She can't
prove that the interest had been paid ! But I don't
care so much for that as I do to get even with that
impudent rascal, Bob. He'll rue this day, as sure
as my name is Aaron Wolverton."
30 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER V.
wolverton's first move
Why did not Aaron Woolverton burn the re-
ceipt, and get rid once for all of the only proof that
the interest had been paid? It would have been
the most politic thing to do, inasmuch as he had
made up his mind to be dishonest. But, though un-
principled, he was not a bold man. The thought
did certainly occur to him, and he even went so far
as to light a match. But more timid counsel pre-
vailed, and he concealed the paper in his desk,
carefully locking the desk afterward.
It is unnecessary to describe the grief of the little
family at Burton's Ranch when the body of the
master was brought home. No one had dreamed
of speedy death for Richard Burton. He seemed
so strong and vigorous that it would have seemed
safe to predict for him a long life — long beyond
the average; yet here, in the middle of life, in the
fullness of health and vigor the summons had come.
To Mrs. Burton, who was a most devoted wife,
it was a crushing blow. It seemed at first as if it
BOB BURTON 31
would be happiness to lie down beside her dead hus-
band and leave the world for him.
"What have I to live for now?" she asked,
mournfully.
"You have me, mother," answered Bob, gently.
"I have lost my father. What would become of
me if I should lose my mother also ?"
"You are right, Robert," said Mrs. Burton. "I
was wrong to give way; but it is a very hard trial."
"Indeed it is, mother," said Robert, kissing her
affectionately. "But we must try to bear up."
Mrs. Burton felt that this was her plain duty,
and henceforth strove to control her emotions. She
ceased to sob, but her face showed the grief she
suffered.
The funeral took place, and the little family
held a council to decide what was to be done.
"Can we carry on the ranch now that your father
is gone?" asked Mrs. Burton, anxiously. "Would
it not be better to sell it?"
"No, mother; the sacrifice would be too great."
"But I do not feel capable of managing it,
Robert."
"You may think me presumptuous, mother, but
my proposal is to assist you, relieving you of the
greater part of the care. Between us we can carry
it on, I am confident."
"You are only a boy of sixteen, Robert," ob-
jected his mother.
32 BOB BURTON
"That is true ; but I have watched carefully the
manner in which the ranch has been carried on.
Of course you must help, and you will try to get a
man with whom I can advise. I am sure we can
make a good deal more out of the farm than we
could realize from investing the money it would
bring."
"And are you willing to undertake this, Robert.
It will be a hard task."
"I'll help him, missis," said Clip, eagerly.
"I shall have Clip to advise me, mother," said
Robert.
"No doubt Clip is willing," said Mrs. Burton,
smiling faintly; "but, after all, it will be only two
boys."
"Try us a single year, mother," said Bob con-
fidently.
Mrs. Burton gave her consent, and Bob at once
took his father's place, rising early and going to
the field to superintend the farming operations. He
seemed to have developed at once into a mature
man, though in appearance he was still the same.
Clip was his loyal assistant, though, being a harum-
scarum boy, fond of fun and mischief, he was of
very little service as adviser.
He had mentioned to Bob seeing Aaron Wolver-
ton bending over the body of his father, and explor-
ing his pockets. This puzzled Bob, but he was not
prepared to suspect him of anything else than cur-
BOB BURTON 33
iosity, until his mother received a call from the real-
estate agent a month after her husband's decease.
Aaron Wolverton had been anxious to call be-
fore, but something withheld him. It might have
been the consciousness of the dishonorable course
he had taken. Be that as it may, he finally screwed
up his courage to the sticking point, and walked
out to Burton's Ranch early one afternoon.
Mrs. Burton was at home, as usual, for she sel-
dom went out now. She had no intimate friends in
the neighborhood. All that she cared for was under
her own roof.
She looked up in some surprise when Mr. Wol-
verton was ushered into the sitting-room.
"I hope I see you well, Mrs. Burton," said the
real-estate agent, slipping to a seat, and placing his
high hat on his knees.
"I am very well in health, Mr. Wolverton," an-
swered the widow, gravely.
"Yes, yes, of course; I understand," he hastily
answered. "Terrible sudden, Mr. Burton's death
was, to be sure, but dust we are, and to dust we
must return, as the Scripture says."
Mrs. Burton did not think it necessary to make
any reply.
"I came over to offer my condolence," con-
tinued Mr. Wolverton.
!Thank you."
34 BOB BURTON
"And I thought perhaps you might stand in need
of some advice from a practical man."
"Any advice will be considered, Mr. Wolver-
ton."
"I've been thinkin' things over, and I've about
made up my mind that the best thing you can do is
to sell the ranch," and the real-estate agent squinted
at Mrs. Burton from under his red eyebrows.
"That was my first thought ; but I consulted with
Robert, and he was anxious to have me carry on the
ranch with his help."
Aaron Wolverton shook his head.
"A foolish plan !" he remarked. "Excuse me for
saying so. Of course you, being a woman, are not
competent to carry it on "
"I have my son, Robert, to help me," said the
widow.
Aaron Wolverton sniffed contemptuously.
"A mere boy!" he ejaculated.
"No; not a mere boy. His father's death and
his affection for me have made a man of him at six-
teen. He rises early every morning, goes to the
fields, and superintends the farming operations.
Peter, my head man, says that he is a remarkably
smart boy, and understands the business about as
well as a man."
"Still I predict that he'll bring you deeper in
debt every year."
"I don't think so; but, at any rate, I have prom-
BOB BURTON 35
ised to try the experiment for one year. I can then
tell better whether it will be wise to keep on or
sell."
"Now, Mrs. Burton, I have a better plan to sug-
gest."
"What is it, Mr. Wolverton?"
"In fact, I have two plans. One is that you
should sell the ranch. You know I hold a mort-
gage on it for three thousand dollars?"
"I know it, Mr. Wolverton!" answered the
widow, gravely.
"I'll give you three thousand dollars over and
above, and then you will be rid of all care."
"Will you explain to me how Robert and I are
going to live on the interest of three thousand dol-
lars, Mr. Wolverton?"
"You'll get something, and if the boy runs the
ranch you'll get nothing. He can earn his living,
and I don't think you will suffer, even if you have
only three thousand dollars."
"It is quite out of the question. Mr. Burton
considered the ranch worth ten thousand dollars."
"A very ridiculous overvaluation — pardon me
for saying so."
"At any rate, I don't propose to sell."
"There's another little circumstance I ought to
mention," said Wolverton, nervously. "There is
half a year's interest due on the mortgage. It was
due on the very day of your husband's death."
36 BOB BURTON
Mrs. Burton looked up in amazement.
"What do you mean, Mr. Wolverton?" she
said. "My husband started for your office on the
fatal morning of his death, carrying the money —
one hundred and fifty dollars — to meet the interest.
Do you mean to tell me that he did not pay it?"
"That is strange, very strange," stammered
Aaron Wolverton, wiping his forehead with a ban-
danna handkerchief. "What became of the
money ?'
"Do you mean to say that it was not paid to
you?" asked the widow, sharply.
"No, it was not," answered Wolverton, with
audacious falsehood.
BOB BURTON 37
CHAPTER VI
THE LOST RECEIPT
"I can't understand this," said Mrs. Burton,
beginning to be troubled. "My poor husband had
made all arrangements for paying his interest on
the day of his death. When he left the house, he
spoke of it. Do you mean to say he did not call at
your office?"
If Aaron Wolverton had dared, he would have
denied this, but Mr. Burton had been seen to enter
the office, and so that lie would not do him any
good.
"He did call upon me, Mrs. Burton."
"And said nothing about the interest?"
"He said this, that he would pay me the coming
week."
"He said that, when he had the money in his
pocket?" said Mrs. Burton, incredulously.
"Of course I didn't know that he had the money
with him. He probably thought of another way in
which he wanted to use a part or all of it."
"I don't believe it. He never mentioned any
38 BOB BURTON
other use for it, and he was not owing any one ex-
cept you. Mr. Wolverton, I don't like to say it,
but I think he paid you the interest."
"Do you doubt my word?" demanded Wolver-
ton, with assumed indignation.
"Suppose I say that you have forgotten it."
"I would not forget anything of that kind. You
are very unjust, Mrs. Burton, but I will attribute
that to your disappointment. Let me suggest one
thing, however. If your husband had paid me, he
would have been sure to take a receipt. If you
have his wallet here — I happen to know that he
was in the habit of carrying a wallet — and you
doubt my word, examine the wallet and see if you
can find the receipt."
Mrs. Burton thought this a good suggestion, and
went upstairs for the wallet. She opened it, but, as
Wolverton had good reason to know would be the
case, failed to find the important paper.
"I can't find it," she said, as she re-entered the
room.
"Did I not tell you so?" returned Wolverton,
triumphantly. "Doesn't that settle it? Wasn't
your husband a good enough business man to re-
quire a receipt for money paid?"
"Yes, yes," murmured the widow. "Mr. Wol-
verton, if you are right it arouses in my mind a
terrible suspicion. Could my husband have been
waylaid, murdered and robbed?"
BOB BURTON 39
"No, I don't think so. His death was evidently
the result of accident — the upset of his team."
"What, then, became of the money — the hun-
dred and fifty dollars which he carried with him?"
"There, my dear lady, you ask me a question
which I cannot answer. I am as much in the dark
as you are."
"If this story is true, then we are one hundred
and fifty dollars poorer than we supposed. It will
be bad news for Robert."
"It need not be bad news for you, Mrs. Burton,"
said Wolverton, in an insinuating tone, shoving his
chair a little nearer that occupied by the widow.
Mrs. Burton looked up in surprise.
"How can it fail to be bad news for me?" she
asked. "A loss like that I cannot help feeling."
"Do you think I would be hard on you, Mrs.
Burton?" asked Wolverton, in the same soft voice.
"If you are disposed to wait for the money, or
relinquish a part under the circumstances, Robert
and I will feel very grateful to you, Mr. Wolver-
ton."
"I might, upon conditions," said the agent, fur-
tively shoving his chair a little nearer.
"What conditions?" asked Mrs. Burton, sus-
piciously.
"I will tell you, if you won't be offended. Mrs.
Burton — Mary — you can't have forgotten the
early days in which I declared my love for you.
4o BOB BURTON
I — I love you still. If you will only promise to
marry me — after a while — all shall be easy with
you. I am a rich man — richer than people think,
and can surround you with luxuries. I will be a
father to that boy of yours, and try to like him for
your sake. Only tell me that you will be mine !"
Mrs. Burton had been so filled with indignation
that she let him run on, quite unable to command
her voice sufficiently to stem the torrent of his
words. As he concluded, she rose to her feet, her
eyes flashing and her voice tremulous with anger,
and said: "Mr. Wolverton, are you aware that
my poor husband has been dead but a month?"
"I am perfectly aware of it, Mary."
"Don't address me so familiarly, sir."
"Mrs. Burton, then, I am perfectly acquainted
with that fact, and would not have spoken now, but
I wished to reassure you. Of course I wouldn't
hurry you; I only meant to get some kind of an
answer that I might depend upon."
"And you thought that, after loving such a man
as Richard Burton, I would be satisfied to take such
a man as you?" said the widow, with stinging sar-
casm.
"Richard Burton was not an angel," said Wol-
verton, harshly, for his pride was touched by the
contempt which she made no effort to conceal.
"Don't dare to say anything against him," said
the widow, her eyes flashing ominously.
BOB BURTON 4*
"Well, then, he was an angel," said Wolverton,
sulkily; "but he's dead, and you will need to look
to another protector."
"My son will protect me," said Mrs. Burton,
proudly.
"That boy?" said Wolverton, contemptuously.
"But I make allowance for a mother's feelings.
Once more, Mary, I make you the offer. Remem-
ber that I am a rich man, and can surround you
with luxuries."
"I would rather live in a log house on a crust
than to marry you, Mr. Wolverton," she said, im-
petuously. "If you were the only man in the world,
I would go unmarried to my grave rather than wed
you."
Wolverton rose, white with wrath.
"You are tolerably explicit, madam," he said.
"I can't charge you with beating round the bush.
But let me tell you, ma'am, that you have done the
unwisest act of your life in making me your
enemy."
"I did not mean to make you an enemy," said
Mrs. Burton, softening. "I suppose I ought to
acknowledge the compliment you have paid me, but
I must decline, once for all, and request you never
again to mention the subject."
Aaron Wolverton was not so easily appeased.
"I do not care to stay any longer," he said. "You
had better mention to your son about the interest."
42 BOB BURTON
Mrs. Burton had an opportunity to do this al-
most immediately, for Bob and Clip entered the
house just as Wolverton was leaving it.
"What have you done to Mr. Wolverton, moth-
er?" asked Bob. "He looked savage enough to
bite my head off, and wouldn't even speak to me."
"Robert, I have some bad news to tell you. Mr.
Wolverton tells me that your father didn't pay him
the interest on the day of his death."
"I believe he tells a falsehood," said Bob,
quickly.
"But he says, with some show of reason, if the
interest was paid, why didn't your father take a
receipt?"
"Can no receipt be found?"
"No; I searched your father's wallet in vain."
"What is a receipt, missis?" asked Clip.
"It's a piece of paper with writing on it, Clip,"
said the widow, adjusting her explanations to Clip's
intelligence.
"Golly ! I saw de old man take a piece of paper
from Massa Burton's pocket after he was dead —
when he was a-lyin' on the ground."
"Say that again, Clip," said Bob, eagerly.
Clip repeated it, and answered several questions
put to him by Mrs. Burton and Bob.
"It's all clear, mother," said Bob. "That old
rascal has got up a scheme to rob you. He thinks
there isn't any proof of the payment. If he sus-
BOB BURTON 43
pected that Clip had been a witness of his robbery
he would have been more careful."
"What shall I do, Bob?"
"Wait a while. Let him show his hand, and
then confront him with Clip's testimony. I wonder
if he destroyed the receipt?"
"Probably he did so."
"If he didn't, I may get it through Sam. Don't
be worried, mother. It'll all come out right."
One thing the widow did not venture to tell Bob
— about Mr. Wolverton's matrimonial offer. It
would have made him so angry that she feared he
would act imprudently.
44 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER VII
wolverton' s adventure with clip
Bob and his mother deliberated as to whether
they should charge Mr. Wolverton openly with the
theft of the receipt. On the whole, they decided to
wait a while, and be guided by circumstances. If
he took any measures to collect the money a second
time, there would be sufficient reason to take the
aggressive.
Bob had another reason for delay. He intended
to acquaint Sam Wolverton with the matter, and
request him to keep on the lookout for the receipt.
Should he find it, he knew that Sam would gladly
restore it to the rightful owner. He cautioned Clip
not to say anything about what he saw on the day
of his father's death, as it would put Wolverton on
his guard, and lead him to destroy the receipt if
still in his possession.
I must now relate a little incident in which Clip
and Aaron Wolverton were the actors.
The creek on which Burton's Ranch was located
BOB BURTON 45
was a quarter of a mile distant from the house. It
was about a quarter of a mile wide. Over on the
other side of the creek was the town of Martin,
which was quite as large as Carver. In some re-
spects it was a more enterprising place than Carver,
and the stores were better stocked. For this reason
there was considerable travel across the creek; but
as there was no bridge, the passage must be made
by boat.
Bob owned a good boat, which he and Clip used
considerably. Both were good rowers, and during
Mr. Burton's life they spent considerable time in
rowing for pleasure. Now Bob's time was so occu-
pied that the boat was employed only when there
was an errand in the opposite village.
"Clip," said Bob, one morning, "I want you to
go down to Martin."
"Yes, Massa Bob," said Clip, with alacrity, for
he much preferred such a jaunt to working in the
fields.
The errand was to obtain a hammer and a supply
of nails at the variety store in Martin. Clip was
rather given to blunder, but still there was no rea-
son why he should not execute the errand satisfac-
torily.
Clip went down to the creek, and unfastened the
boat. He jumped in, and began to paddle away,
when he heard a voice calling him.
"Here you, Clip!"
46 BOB BURTON
Looking around, Clip recognized in the man
hailing him Aaron Wolverton.
Mr. Wolverton did not own any boat himself,
and when he had occasion to go across the river he
generally managed to secure a free passage with
some one who was going over. If absolutely neces-
sary, he would pay a nickel; but he begrudged even
this small sum, so mean was he.
Clip stopped paddling, and answered the call.
"Hi, Massa Wolverton; what's the matter?"
"Come back here."
"Whatfo'?"
"I want you to take me over to Martin."
Now Clip was naturally obliging, but he disliked
Wolverton as much as one of his easy good nature
could do. So he felt disposed to tantalize him.
"Can't do it, Massa Wolverton. I'm in a terri-
ble hurry."
"It won't take you a minute to come back."
"Massa Bob will scold."
"You needn't mind that, boy. Come back, I
say!"
"I dassn't."
"Don't be a fool, you little nigger. I'll pay you."
"What'll you give?" asked Clip, cautiously.
"I'll give you — a cent."
"Couldn't do it, nohow. What good's a cent to
me?"
BOB BURTON 47
"A cent's a good deal of money. You can buy
a stick of candy."
" 'Tain't enough, Massa Wolverton. I ain't
goin' to resk gettin' licked for a cent."
Cunning Clip knew that there was no danger of
this, but he thought it would serve as an argument.
"I'll give you two cents," said Wolverton, impa-
tiently.
"Couldn't do it," said Clip. "Ef it was five,
now, I might 'sider it."
Finally Wolverton was obliged to accede to
Clip's terms, and the colored boy pushed the boat
to shore, and took in his passenger.
"Can you row good, Clip?" asked Wolverton,
nervously, for he was very much afraid of the
water, and he had never had Clip for a boatman
before.
"You jes' bet I can, Massa Wolverton. I can
row 'mos' as good as Massa Bob."
"Well, show it then; I am in a hurry to get over
the creek."
Clip rowed to the middle of the creek, and then
stopped paddling.
"I reckon you'd better pay me the money now,
Massa Wolverton," he said.
"Why, you young rascal, are you afraid to trust
me?"
"I dunno 'bout dat; but I wants my money."
48 BOB BURTON
"You haven't earned it yet. What are you afraid
of?"
"You might forget to pay me, Massa Wolver-
ton."
"No, I shan't. Push on."
"I'm goin' to sleep," said Clip, lying back in a
lazy attitude.
"You young rascal! I've a good mind to fetch
you a slap on the side of the head."
"Better not, Massa Wolverton," drawled Clip.
"Might upset the boat."
"Give me the oars," said Wolverton, impa-
tiently.
He took them; but he had never rowed in his
life, and he almost immediately turned the boat
around.
"Hi, yah!" laughed Clip, delighted. "Where
was you raised, Massa Wolverton, not to under-
stand rowin' no better dan dat?"
"Take the oars, you black scoundrel, and row
me across, or I'll pitch you out of the boat."
"Ef you do, what'll 'come of you, Massa Wol-
verton?" said Clip, not at all alarmed.
This was indeed an important consideration for
a man so timid on the water as the real-estate agent.
"You put me out of all patience," said Wolver-
ton, furiously. "Are you going to row or are you
not?"
"I want my money," said Clip.
BOB BURTON 49
Wolverton was compelled to hand over a nickel,
but registered a vow that if ever he caught Clip on
land, he would make him pay for his impudence.
Clip took the oars, and made very good progress
till he was about fifty feet from the other side of
the creek. Then he began to make the boat rock,
stopping his rowing.
"What are you about?" shouted Wolverton,
turning pale.
"It's good fun, ain't it, Massa Wolverton?" said
Clip, laughing insolently.
"Stop, you little rascal ! You'll upset the boat."
"Golly! ain't dis fun?" said Clip, continuing his
rocking.
"I'll choke you, if you don't stop," screamed
Wolverton.
He rose to catch hold of Clip. The boy jumped
up, and ducked his head. The result of the com-
bined motion was that the boat, which was flat-
bottomed, capsized, and the two were thrown into
the water.
There was no danger, for the water at this point
was only four feet deep, and Clip could swim, while
Aaron Wolverton was too tall to be drowned in
that depth of water.
Wolverton was almost scared out of his wits.
He cut such a ludicrous figure as he floundered in
the water that Clip screamed with delight. The
black boy swam to the boat, and, managing to right
50 BOB BURTON
her, got in again; but Wolverton waded to the
shore, almost beside himself with rage.
"Is you wet, Massa Wolverton?" asked Clip,
innocently, showing his white teeth.
"Come ashore, and I'll lick you," shouted Wol-
verton, who had by this time landed, his clothes
dripping wet.
"I reckon I'm too busy," answered Clip, with a
grin. "I'm sorry you's wet, Massa Wolverton.
Hi, yah!"
"I'll wring your neck, you young tike!" said
Wolverton, savagely.
"Dat old man's a hog," mused Clip. "Ain't
much like my poor old gran'ther. He was always
kin' an' good. I mind him sittin' in front of de ole
cabin door down in Arkansaw. I 'spec' de old
chap's done dead afore this," concluded Clip, with
a sigh.
Clip kept at a safe distance from shore, and the
agent was compelled to defer his vengeance, and go
to the house of an acquaintance to borrow some dry
clothes.
When he returned, it is needless to say that it
was not in Clip's boat.
He opened his desk, to enter a business transac-
tion in his account book, when he made a startling
discovery.
The receipt had disappeared !
BOB BURTON 51
CHAPTER VIII
wolverton's dismay
Wolverton uttered a cry of dismay when he
found that the receipt had disappeared. With
trembling fingers he turned over a pile of papers in
the hope of finding the important paper.
"Where on earth can it be?" he asked himself,
with a troubled face.
He set himself to consider when he had seen it
last and where he had placed it.
"It must be in the desk somewhere," he decided,
and resumed his search. Those of my readers who
had mislaid any article can picture to themselves
his increasing perplexity as the missing paper failed
to turn up.
He was finally obliged to conclude that it was not
in the desk. But, if so, where could it be? If not
found, or if found by any one else, his situation
would be an embarrassing one. He had assured
Mrs. Burton that the interest money had not been
paid. Now suppose the receipt were found, what
would be the inference? He could not help
Si BOB BURTON
acknowledging that it would look bad for him.
Until he learned something of its whereabouts he
would not dare to press Mrs. Burton for a second
payment of the interest money.
"It is as bad as losing a hundred and fifty dol-
lars," he groaned. "It is a pile of money to lose."
Aaron Wolverton did not appear to consider that
it was losing what was not his property, and was
only preventing him from pushing a fraudulent
claim. He actually felt wronged by this inoppor-
tune loss. He felt somehow that he was the victim
of misfortune.
But what could have become of the receipt?
That was what troubled him. Was there anybody
who was responsible for its disappearance? Natu-
rally it would be important for Mrs. Burton to get
hold of it ; but then, they did not know of its exist-
ence. They had no evidence that the receipt had
even been delivered to Richard Burton. Still it
was possible that Bob Burton had visited the house,
and searched his desk. He would inquire of his
sister.
He opened the door leading to the kitchen,
where Miss Sally Wolverton was engaged in some
domestic employment.
"Sally, has the Burton boy been here this morn-
ing?"
"No ; why should he come ? He isn't one of your
visitors, is he?"
BOB BURTON 53J
"Was he here yesterday?"
"No; what makes you ask?"
"There was a little business, connected with the
farm, which he might have come about."
"I am glad he didn't come," said Sally. "He's
too high-strung for me."
"I don't like him myself; but sometimes we have
to do business with those we don't like."
"That's so. How's the widder left?"
"She's got the ranch, but I hold a mortgage of
three thousand dollars on it," replied her brother,
his features expanding into a wintry smile. A man
who can laugh heartily possesses redeeming traits,
even if in some respects he is bad; but Aaron Wol-
verton had never been known to indulge in a hearty
laugh.
"Can she pay?"
"Not at present."
"Is the mortgage for a term of years?"
"No; it can be called in at the end of any year."
"I never liked that woman," said Miss Sally
Wolverton, grimly.
Sally Wolverton did not like any woman who
was younger and prettier than herself, and there
were few who were not prettier. She had never
known of her brother's infatuation for the lady she
was criticising, otherwise she would have been
tempted to express herself even more strongly. She
was strongly opposed to his marriage, as this would
54 BOB BURTON
have removed her from her place in his household,
or, even if she remained, would have deprived her
of her power. Aaron did not care at present to
take her into his confidence. Still he could not for-
bear coming, in a faint way, to the defense of the
woman he admired.
"Mrs. Burton is a fine-looking woman," he said.
"Fine-looking!" repeated Sally, with a contemp-
tuous sniff. "I don't admire your taste."
"She isn't in your style, Sally," said Aaron, with
a sly twinkle in his eye.
Sally Wolverton was taller than her brother,
with harsh features, a gaunt, angular figure, and
an acid expression.
"I hope not," she answered. "I hope I don't
look like an insipid doll."
"You certainly don't, Sally; you have expression
enough, I am sure."
"Do you think Mrs. Burton pretty?" asked
Sally, suspiciously.
"Oh, so so!" answered Aaron, guardedly; for
he did not care to reveal the secret to his sister at
present. She was useful to him as a housekeeper,
and moreover — an important point — she was very
economical; more so than any person whom he
could hire. He did indeed pay his sister but only a
dollar a week, and out of this she saved nearly one-
half, having the gift of economy in quite as large
a measure as himself.
BOB BURTON SS
iThis assurance, and her brother's indifferent
tone, relieved Sally from her momentary suspicion.
Yet, had she been able to read her brother's secret
thoughts, she would have been a prey to anxiety.
He had made up his mind, if ever he did marry
Mrs. Burton, to give Sally her walking ticket.
"I can't afford to support two women," he re-
flected, "and my wife ought to be able to do all the
work in so small a household."
"Why are you so anxious to know whether any
of the Burtons have been here?"
"I thought they might come," answered her
brother, evasively. "You haven't seen anything of
that black imp, Clip, have you?"
"No; has he any business with you?"
"I have some business with him," snarled Wol-
verton. "He played a trick on me this morning."
"What sort of a trick?"
"I got him to carry me across the creek in his
boat, and he managed to upset me."
"Did he do it a-purpose?"
"Yes; he laughed like a hyena when he saw me
floundering in the water."
"If he comes round here, I'll give him a lesson.
I can't abide a nigger anyway. They're as lazy as
sin, and they ain't got no more sense than a monkey.
It's my opinion they are a kind of monkey, any-
way."
Fortunately for the colored race all are not so
56 BOB BURTON
prejudiced against them as Sally Wolverton —
otherwise they would be in a bad case.
"By the way, Sally, have you seen a stray paper
about the floor in my room?" asked Wolverton,
with assumed carelessness.
"What sort of a paper was it ?"
"It was a — a receipt," answered her brother,
hesitating.
"What kind of a receipt — from whom?" asked
Sally, who possessed her share of general curiosity.
"That isn't to the point. If you have seen such
a paper, or picked it up, I shall feel relieved. I
might have to pay the money over again if I don't
find it."
This was misrepresenting the matter, but Wol-
verton did not think it expedient to give his sister a
clew to so delicate a secret.
"No; I have seen no paper," she said, shortly,
not relishing his evasive reply. "Have you searched
your desk?"
"Yes."
"And didn't find it?"
"No."
"Suppose I look. Four eyes are better than
two."
"No, thank you, Sally," answered her brother,
hastily. "I am particular about not having my
papers disturbed."
Aaron Wolverton would have gained some val-
BOB BURTON 57
liable information touching the missing paper if he
could have transferred himself at that moment to
Burton's Ranch.
Bob and Clip were out in the yard when Sam
Wolverton made his appearance, breathless and
excited.
"What's the matter, Sam?" asked Bob, wonder-
ing.
"Let me catch my breath," gasped Sam. "I —
I've got some good news."
"Then you are welcome. Has your uncle got
married?"
"No; nor Aunt Sally either," replied Sam.
"What do you say to that?" and he drew from his
vest pocket a long strip of paper.
"What's that?" asked Bob, eagerly.
"It's the receipt," answered Sam.
58 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER IX
sam's gift
"What!" exclaimed Bob, in great excitement.
"Not the receipt for the money?"
"That's just what it is," answered Sam, nodding
emphatically.
"Let me see it."
Sam put the paper in Bob's hand.
There it was in regular form, a receipt for one
hundred and fifty dollars, being the semi-annual
interest on a mortgage on Burton's Ranch, dated
on the day of Richard Burton's death, and signed
by Aaron Wolverton.
"Hurrah !" shouted Bob, waving it aloft. "Then
father did pay it, after all, and that mean scoundrel
— excuse my speaking of your uncle in such terms,
Sam "
"I don't mind," said Sam, philosophically.
"That mean scoundrel wanted us to pay the
money a second time. I'm ever so much obliged to
you, Sam. But where on earth did you find it?"
"I'll tell you, Bob," answered Sam, perching
BOB BURTON 59
himself on the fence. "This afternoon Uncle
Aaron started out on business — I don't know where
he went."
"I know," said Clip, giving way to a burst of
merriment.
"How do you know?"
"I rowed him across de creek. I was out in de
boat when old Massa Wolverton come along and
axed me to take him across. I made him pay me a
nickel, and he got into de boat," and Clip began to
laugh once more.
"I don't see anything to laugh at, Clip."
"You would, Massa Bob, ef you'd been dar. We
was almost across when de old boat upset, yah !
yah ! and old Massa Wolverton — it makes me
laugh like to split — tumbled into de water, and got
wet as a drownded rat."
"Clip, you bad boy, you did it on purpose," said
Bob, trying to look stern.
"Wish I may die!" answered Clip, stoutly, for
he was not an imitator of George Washington.
"Didn't de old man look mad, dough? He jest
shook his fist at me, and called me a black imp,
'deed he did."
"I am afraid he was right, Clip," said Bob, shak-
ing his head. "But you haven't told me about the
receipt, Sam."
"He sent me into his room to get his hat, when
right down on the floor by his desk I saw a piece of
60 BOB BURTON
paper. I remembered what you told me, Bob,
about the receipt, so I picked it up and slipped it
into my pocket. I had to be quick about it, for
Uncle Aaron is always in a hurry. Well, I took
out the hat, and I didn't dare to take out the paper
and look at it till he was out of sight."
"And then "
"Well, then I saw it was the paper you wanted."
"Mr. Wolverton took it from the pocket of my
poor father when he lay dead on the spot where he
was thrown out," said Bob, gravely. "It would be
hard to think of a meaner piece of rascality."
"Well, I'm glad you got it, Bob. I don't know
as I was right in taking it, but I'll take the risk."
"If you never do anything worse than that,
Sam, you won't have much to answer for. I wish
you'd let me give you something."
"No, Bob, you are my friend, and it would be a
pity if I couldn't do you a favor without getting
paid for it."
"But this is a great favor. It is worth a hundred
and fifty dollars. Without it we might, and proba-
bly would, have to pay the interest money over
again. Now, when your uncle calls for it, we shall
only have to show him the receipt."
"He'll wonder where it came from."
"I hope it won't get you into trouble, Sam."
"He won't suspect me. He'll know I couldn't
break into his desk, and he won't know anything
BOB BURTON 61
about having dropped it on the floor. I don't see
how he came to be so careless."
"Depend upon it, Sam, it was the work of Provi-
dence. Mother says that God often overrules the
designs of the wicked, and I think this is an in-
stance. Henceforth, Sam, though you are old Wol-
verton's nephew, I shall consider you a friend of
our family. Why can't you stay to supper to-
night?"
"It would never do, Bob, unless I asked permis-
sion."
"Then ask permission."
"I am afraid it wouldn't be granted."
"If your uncle is as mean as I think he is, he
would be glad for you to get a meal at the expense
of somebody else."
"He wouldn't like to have me enjoy myself,"
said Sam.
"Is he so mean as that?"
"Whenever he hears me singing, he looks mad,
and wants to know why I am making a fool of
myself."
"He's an uncle to be proud of," said Bob, ironi-
cally.
"I just wish I could Y.ve at your house, Bob."
"Perhaps I can make an exchange, and give Clip
to your uncle instead of you."
"Oh, Massa Bob, don't you do it," exclaimed
Clip, looking scared. "Old Massa Wolverton
62 BOB BURTON
would kill me, I know he would. He hates niggers,
I heard him say so."
Bob and Sam laughed, being amused by the evi-
dent terror of the young colored boy.
"I won't do it, Clip, unless you are very bad,"
said Bob, gravely, "though I think Sam would be
willing to change."
"Indeed I would," said Sam, with a sigh.
"There's no such good luck for me."
When Bob carried in the receipt and showed it
to his mother, her face lighted up with joy.
"This is indeed a stroke of good fortune," she
said ; "or rather it seems like a direct interposition
of Providence — that Providence that cares for the
widow and the fatherless. You must make Sam a
present."
"So I will, mother; but if he understands it is for
this he won't take anything."
"Sam is evidently very different from his uncle.
He is a sound scion springing from a corrupt trunk.
Leave it to me to manage. Won't he stay to
supper?"
"Not to-night. I invited him, but he was afraid
to accept the invitation, for fear of being pun-
ished."
"Is his uncle so severe, then?"
"I suspect he beats Sam, though Sam doesn't like
to own it."
BOB BURTON 63
"And this man, this cruel tyrant, want to marry
me," thought Mrs. Burton, shuddering.
Two days later Sam chanced to be in the house
with the two boys, when Mrs. Burton passed
through the room, and greeted him pleasantly.
"When is your birthday?" she asked.
"Last week — Thursday — ma'am."
"How old are you?"
"Fifteen."
"Did you receive a birthday present?"
Sam shook his head.
"There's no one to give me presents," he said.
"You have an uncle and aunt, Sam."
"They never give presents. They tell me I
ought to be thankful that they take care of me, and
save me from going to the poorhouse."
"There would be no danger of that, Sam," said
Bob. "If your uncle ever turns you out to shift for
yourself, come and live with us."
"I wish he would turn me out to-morrow, then,"
said Sam ; and it was evident the boy meant it.
"Sam, you will permit me to make up for your
uncle's neglect," said Mrs. Burton, kindly. "Here
is a necktie. I bought it for Robert, but I can get
another for him. And here is something else which
may prove acceptable."
She drew from her pocket a silver dollar, and put
it into Sam's hand.
"Is this really for me?" asked Sam, joyfully.
€4 BOB BURTON
"Yes; it is only a small gift, but "
"I never had so much money before in my life,"
said Sam. "It makes me feel rich."
Mrs. Burton looked significantly at Bob. Her
woman's wit had devised a way of rewarding Sam
for the service he had done the family without his
being aware of it.
The gift was well meant, but it was destined to
get poor Sam into trouble.
BOB BURTON 6$
CHAPTER X
SAM IN A TIGHT PLACE
Many a man who had come unexpectedly into a
fortune of a hundred thousand dollars would not
have felt so rich as Sam with his silver dollar. It
must be remembered that he had never before had
so much money at one time in his life. The pros-
pect of spending it opened up dazzling possibilities.
There were so many things that he wanted that it
was hard to decide which to select.
Among other things Sam wanted a fishing pole.
There was a supply at a variety store in the village.
He had never inquired the price, because he had no
money. Now that he was wealthy he determined
to inquire.
So he went into the store and, pointing to the
coveted article, asked the price.
"Seventy-five cents," answered the old man, Gor-
don Locke, who kept the store.
"Seventy-five cents," repeated Sam, thought-
fully.
66 BOB BURTON
This would only leave him twenty-five cents, and
there were so many other things he wanted.
"Was you calc'latin' to buy, Sam?" asked Mr.
Locke, pushing up his iron-bound spectacles.
"I don't know," said Sam, slowly; "I didn't
think I'd have to pay so much."
"It's cheap, for the quality," said the store-
keeper. "This ain't no common fishing pole. It
comes all the way from York."
"Yes, it seems a nice one," Sam admitted.
"Hev you got the money about you?" asked the
old man.
"Yes," answered Sam, unguardedly.
"Then you'd better take the pole. You won't
find no better within fifty mile."
"I'll think about it," said Sam.
He could not make up his mind to part with his
precious dollar so soon. As long as he had it, he
felt like a man of property. When it was once
changed, he would once more be a poor boy.
In spite of the storekeeper's persuasions, he
walked out with his money intact, leaving the cov-
eted fishing pole behind.
Now it so happened that his uncle, who never
allowed anything to pass unnoticed, saw from the
window Sam come out of the store, which was
nearly opposite.
"What business has he there, I wonder?" he
said to himself.
BOB BURTON 67
Five minutes later he made an errand to visit the
store himself.
"Good day, Mr. Wolverton," said Gordon
Locke, deferentially.
"Good day, Locke! Didn't I see my nephew,
Sam, come out of here just now?"
"Like as not you did. He was here."
"What business had he here?"
"He was looking at them fishin' rods."
"He was, hey?" said Wolverton, pricking up his
ears.
"Yes ; he reckoned he'd buy one soon."
"What's the price?"
"Seventy-five cents."
"He reckoned he'd pay seventy-five cents for a
fishin' rod," said Wolverton, slowly. "Did he show
you the money?"
"No; but he said he had it."
"Oho, he had the money," repeated Aaron Wol-
verton, shaking his head ominously. "Where'd he
get it? That's what I'd like to know."
"I reckon you gave it to him; he's your nephew."
"I don't pamper him in any such way as that,
So he's got money. I'll have to look into that."
Wolverton, who was of a suspicious disposition,
was led to think that Sam had stolen the money
from him. He could think of no other way in
which the boy could get possession of it.
He went home, and sought his sister Sally.
68 BOB BURTON
"Sally, where is Sam?"
"I don't know." Then, noticing the frown upon
her brother's brow, she inquired, "Is anything the
matter?"
"I think there is. Sam has money."
"What do you mean? Where'd he get it,
Aaron?"
"That's what I want to find out," and he told
her of Sam's visit to the store.
"Have you missed any money, Aaron?"
"Not that I know of. You haven't left any
round?"
"No."
"It stands to reason the boy has taken money
from one of us. Even if he hasn't whatever he has
belongs to me by right, as I am takin' care of him."
"Half of it ought to go to me," said Sally, who
was quite as fond of money as her brother.
"I don't know about that. But where's the
boy?"
"I don't know. He may have gone over to see
the Burtons. He's there most of the time."
"I'll foller him."
Aaron Wolverton went into the shed, and came
out with a horsewhip. He did not keep a horse,
but still he kept a whip. For what purpose Sam
could have told if he had been asked.
"If the boy's become a thief, I want to know it,"
said Wolverton to himself.
BOB BURTON 69
Sam had really started on the way to the Bur-
tons. His uncle struck his trail, so to speak, and
followed him. He caught up with his nephew about
half a mile away. Sam had thrown himself down
on the ground under a cottonwood tree, and gave
himself up to pleasant dreams of the independence
which manhood would bring. In his reverie he un-
consciously spoke aloud: "When I'm a man, Uncle
Aaron won't dare to boss me around as he does
now."
The old man, creeping stealthily near, overheard
the words, and a malicious smile lighted up his
wrinkled face.
"Oho, that's what he's thinkin' of already," he
muttered. "What more?"
"I wish I could live with the Burtons," proceed-
ed the unconscious Sam. "They would treat a boy
decently."
"So I don't treat him decently," repeated Wol-
verton, his small eyes snapping.
He had by this time crawled behind the trunk of
the tree under which Sam was reclining.
"I sometimes think I'd like to run away and
never come back," continued Sam.
"You do, hey?" snarled Wolverton, as he
stepped out from behind the tree.
Sam jumped to his feet in dire dismay, and gazed
at his uncle panic-stricken.
70 BOB BURTON
"Did you just come?" he stammered. "I didn't
hear you."
"No, I reckon not," laughed his uncle, with a
queer smile. "So you want to get quit of your aunt
and me, do you?"
"I don't reckon to live with you always," faltered
Sam.
"No; but you ain't a-goin' to leave us just yet.
There's a little matter I've got to inquire into."
Sam looked up inquiringly.
"What is it?"
"What did you go into Locke's store for?" de-
manded his uncle, searchingly.
"I just went in to look round," answered Sam,
evasively.
"You went to look at a fishing pole," said Aaron
Wolverton, sternly.
"What if I did?" asked Sam, plucking up a little
courage.
"Did you have the money to buy it?"
"Ye-es," answered Sam, panic-stricken.
"How much money have you got?"
"A dollar."
"Which you stole from me!" asserted Wolver-
ton, with the air of a judge about to sentence a
criminal to execution.
"No, I didn't. It didn't come from your house."
"Where did it come from?"
"Mrs. Burton gave it to me — for my birthday."
BOB BURTON 71
"I don't believe it. It's one of your lies. Give it
to me this instant."
Poor Sam became desperate. What! was he to
lose the only money of any account which he ever
possessed ? He was not brave, but he made a stand
here.
"You have no right to it," he said, passionately.
"It's mine. Mrs. Burton gave it to me."
"I tell you it's a lie ! Even if she had done so I
should have the right, as your uncle, to take it from
you. Give it to me!"
"I won't!" said Sam, desperately.
"Won't, hey?" repeated Wolverton, grimly.
"Well, we'll see about tha'."
He raised the horsewhip, and in an instant Sam's
legs — he was standing now — felt the cruel lash.
"Won't, hey?" repeated his uncle. "We'll see."
"Help!" screamed Sam. "Will no one help
me?"
"I reckon not," answered his uncle, mockingly,
and he raised his whip once more.
But before the lash could descend, it was snatch-
ed from him, and, turning angrily, he confronted
Bob Burton, fierce and indignant, and saw Clip
standing just behind him.
7*
BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XI
AN ANGRY CONFERENCE
"You ought to be ashamed of yourself, you
brute !" exclaimed Bob.
"Do you want me to thrash you, too?" snarled
Wolverton, angrily.
"You can try, if you want to," returned Bob,
contemptuously.
"Sam, what was he going to whip you for?"
asked Bob, turning to his unfortunate friend.
"I'll answer that question," said Wolverton,
"though it's no concern of yours. The boy has
been robbing me."
"What have you to say, Sam?"
"It's not true."
"What do you charge him with taking, Mr.
Wolverton?"
"A dollar."
"It's the one your mother gave me, Bob."
"To be sure ! I saw her give it to you myself."
"He lies, and you swear to it," said Wolverton,
with a sneer.
"Mr. Wolverton, you have brought a false
BOB BURTON 73
charge against your nephew, and you know it. If
you don't care to take his word or mine, you can
come over to our house and ask my mother whether
Sam's story is true."
"It doesn't matter whether it's true or false,"
said Wolverton, doggedly. "Sam is under my
charge, and I have a right to any money he comes
by."
"I always knew you were mean," said Bob, con-
temptuously, "but this is ahead of anything I ever
imagined. Do you still accuse Sam of robbing
you?"
"I don't know whether he did or not."
"You can easily satisfy yourself by calling on my
mother."
"I mean to call on your mother, but it won't be
on this business," said Wolverton, opening his
mouth and showing the yellow fangs which served
for teeth.
"You are at liberty to call on any business er-
rand," said Bob.
"Indeed, you are very kind, remarkably kind,
considering that the ranch is as much mine as your
mother's."
"How do you make that out?"
"I have a mortgage on it for half its value."
"I deny it. The ranch is worth much more than
six thousand dollars. Besides, the time has not yet
come when you have the right to foreclose."
74 BOB BURTON
"There you are wrong, young man! As the in-
terest has not been promptly paid, I can foreclose
at any time."
"You will have to see my mother about that,"
said Bob, carefully concealing the fact that the re-
ceipt had been recovered.
"I thought you would change your tune," said
Wolverton, judging from Bob's calmer tone that
he was getting alarmed.
Bob smiled, for he felt that he had the advan-
tage, and foresaw Wolverton's discomfiture when
the receipt was shown him.
"I am not quite so excited as I was," he ad-
mitted. "When I saw you with the whip uplifted
I was ready for anything."
"Give me back the whip!" said Wolverton,
menacingly.
"Will you promise not to use it on Sam?"
"I'll promise nothing, you young whipper-
snapper ! What business have you to interfere be-
tween me and my nephew ?"
"The right of ordinary humanity."
"Give me the whip."
"Then make me the promise."
"I won't."
"Then I propose to keep it."
"I will have you arrested for theft."
"Do so. I will explain matters to Judge
Turner."
BOB BURTON 75
Judge Turner, the magistrate before whom such
cases came, heartily despised and hated Aaron Wol-
verton, as the latter knew full well. He would cer-
tainly dismiss any charge brought against Bob by
such a man. This consideration naturally influ-
enced him.
"Very well," he said, though with an ill grace,
"if your mother gave Sam the money, I retract the
charge of theft. Nevertheless, as his guardian, I
demand that the dollar be given to me."
"Give it to me to keep for you, Sam," said Bob.
Sam gladly took it from his pocket, and threw it
toward Bob, who dexterously caught it.
"Now, Mr. Wolverton," said Bob, quietly, "you
will have to demand the money from me; Sam
hasn't got it."
"You'll have to pay for your impudence, Robert
Burton !" said Wolverton, wrathfully. "You for-
get that you are all in my power."
"You may find yourself mistaken, Mr. Wolver-
ton," said Bob. "At any rate, I don't think I shall
lose any sleep on that score."
"You can tell your mother I shall call this even-
ing," continued Wolverton. "I expect her to be
ready with the interest, which is long overdue."
"I will give her your message, Mr. Wolverton.
Now, Clip, let us go on. Mr. Wolverton will ex-
cuse us, I know, when I tell him that we have an
errand in the village."
76 BOB BURTON
uYah, yah!" laughed Clip, gleefully; not that
there was anything particular to laugh at, but be-
cause it took very little to excite Clip's risibilities.
Mr. Wolverton turned upon Clip with a frown.
He had not forgotten the trick Clip played upon
him when he was upset in the river, and he would
have liked nothing better than to flog him till he
roared for mercy.
"What is that black ape grinning about?" he
demanded.
Clip ought to have felt insulted, but he was only
amused.
"Yah, yah!" he laughed again.
Aaron Wolverton made a dash at him with his
recovered whip, but Clip nimbly jumped to one side
and laughed again.
"Didn't do it dat time," Massa Wolverton,"
said Clip, showing his teeth.
"I'll get even with you yet, you black monkey!"
If Clip had been alone, Wolverton would have
proceeded then and there to carry out his threat.
But he had a wholesome respect for Bob, whose
physical strength and prowess he well knew. It
made him angry whenever he thought of this boy,
who seemed born to be a thorn in his side. He
was stronger than Wolverton, though the land
agent was a man grown, and it was humiliating to
Wolverton to be obliged to admit this fact.
But he had one consolation in the mortgage he
BOB BURTON 77
held upon the Burton Ranch. Here the law was on
his side, and he saw his way clear to annoy and
injure Bob and his family, without running any risk
himself. As for the chance of the mortgage ever
being paid off, that he thought extremely small. If
Richard Burton were still alive, he would have been
right, but Bob, young as he was, bade fair to be a
better manager than his father. He was not so
sanguine, or, if the truth must be told, so reckless
in his expenditures. Besides, he knew, though his
father was ignorant of it, that Wolverton, for some
reason which he could not penetrate, was a bitter
enemy of the family, and that his forbearance could
not be depended upon.
When Bob and Clip had left the scene Aaron
Wolverton turned to Sam, and scowled at his un-
fortunate nephew, in a way which was by no means
pleasant or reassuring.
"I've a good mind to flog you for all the trouble
you've brought upon me," he said.
"I don't see what I've done, uncle."
"You don't, hey? Haven't you sided with that
upstart, the Burton boy?"
Sam was judiciously silent, for he saw his uncle
was very much irritated.
"Why did you give that dollar to him?"
"He told me to."
"Suppose he did; is he your guardian or am I?"
"You are, Uncle Aaron."
78 BOB BURTON
"I'm glad you are willing to admit it. Then why-
did you give him the dollar?"
"Because his mother gave it to me. If you had
given it to me, I wouldn't have done it."
"You'll have to wait a good while before I give
you a dollar."
Sam was of the same opinion himself, but did not
think it wise to say so.
"You deserve to be punished for what you have
done," said his uncle, severely.
"I wish I were as strong and brave as Bob,"
thought Sam. "I don't see how he dares to stand
up before Uncle Aaron and defy him. He makes
me tremble."
The truth was, Sam was not made of heroic
mold. He was a timid boy and was easily over-
awed. He lacked entirely the qualities that made
Bob so bold and resolute. He could admire his
friend, but he could not imitate him.
"Now, come home," said Wolverton, shortly.
Sam followed his uncle meekly.
When they reached home Sam was set to work.
At twelve o'clock the bell rang for dinner. Sam
dropped his ax — he had been splitting wood — and
entered the kitchen, where the frugal meal was
spread. His uncle was already sitting in his place,
and Sam prepared to sit down in his usual chair.
"Samuel," said his uncle, "you have disobeyed
me. You do not deserve any dinner."
BOB BURTON 79
Sam's countenance fell, for he was very hungry.
"I am very hungry," he faltered.
"You should have thought of that when you dis-
obeyed me and gave your money to the Burton boy.
This is intended as a salutary lesson, Samuel, to
cure you of your stubbornness and disobedience."
"You are quite right, Aaron," said Miss Sally,
in her deep voice. "Samuel needs chastening."
Poor Sam slunk out of the door in a state of de-
pression. Not being ordered to return to his work,
he went out into the street, where he met Bob and
Clip, and to them he told his tale of woe.
"Your uncle is as mean as they make 'em," said
Bob. "Here, go into the baker's and buy some
doughnuts and pie."
He handed Sam a quarter, and the hungry boy
followed his advice, faring quite as well as he
would have done at his uncle's table. Rather to
Mr. Wolverton's surprise, he worked all the after-
noon without showing signs of hunger, and that
gentleman began to consider whether, after all,
two meals a day were not sufficient for him.
8o BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XII
WOLVERTON' S WATERLOO
Though the receipt was lost, Wolverton could
not give up his plan of extorting the interest from
Mrs. Burton a second time. It might have been
supposed that he would have some qualms of con-
science about robbing the widow and the fatherless,
but Mr. Wolverton's conscience, if he had any,
gave him very little trouble. He would have
thought himself a fool to give up one hundred and
fifty dollars if there was the slightest chance of
securing them.
Toward evening of the day on which Bob had
interfered with him, he took his hat and cane, and
set out for Burton's Ranch.
It so happened that Bob answered the bell. He
had been sitting with his mother, chatting about
their future plans.
"Good evening, Mr. Wolverton," said Bob, who
felt it incumbent upon him to be polite to a guest,
even though he disliked him.
BOB BURTON 81
" 'Evening," returned Wolverton, curtly. "Is
your mother at home?"
"Yes, sir. Will you come in ?"
Wolverton had not the good manners to
acknowledge the invitation with thanks, but strode
into the sitting-room, following Bob.
The widow anticipated his visit, having been in-
formed by Bob that he had announced his intention
of coming.
"Good evening, Mr. Wolverton. Take a seat,"
she said, pointing to a chair a few feet from her
own. "Robert, take Mr. Wolverton's hat."
Wolverton looked at the widow with a hungry
gaze, for she was the only woman he had ever
loved.
"If she would only marry me, all her troubles
would be over," he said to himself. "She's a fool
to refuse."
We, who have some idea of Mr. Wolverton's
character and disposition, are more likely to con-
clude that marriage with such a man would be only
the beginning of trouble.
"I've come on business, Mrs. Burton," said the
visitor, in an aggressive tone.
"State it, if you please, Mr. Wolverton," the
widow answered, calmly.
"Hadn't you better send your son out of the
room? We'd better discuss this matter alone."
"I have no secrets from Robert," said the widow.
82 BOB BURTON
"Oh, well, just as you please; I don't care to
have him interfere in what doesn't concern him."
"Any business with my mother does concern
me," said Bob; "but I will try not to give you any
trouble."
"The business is about that interest," Wolverton
began, abruptly.
"What interest?"
"You must know what I mean — the interest on
the mortgage."
"My husband paid it on the day of his death."
"It's easy enough to say that," sneered Wolver-
ton, "but saying it isn't proving it, as you must have
the good sense to know."
"When my husband left me on that fatal morn-
ing, he told me that he was going to your office to
pay the interest. I know he had the money with
him, for he had laid down the wallet, and I saw
the roll of bills."
"Why didn't he pay it, then? That's what I'd
like to know."
"Didn't he pay it to you, Mr. Wolverton?"
asked Mrs. Burton, with a searching glance.
"Carry back your memory to that day, and answer
me that question."
Mr. Wolverton showed himself a little restless
under this interrogatory, but he assumed an air of
indignation.
"What do you mean, widder?" he demanded,
BOB BURTON 83
bringing down his cane with emphasis upon the
floor. "Do you doubt my word?"
"I think you may be mistaken, Mr. Wolverton,"
said Mrs. Burton, composedly.
"Who has been putting this into your head,
widder? Is it that boy of yours?"
Bob answered for himself:
"I don't mind saying that I did tell mother that
I thought the money had been paid."
"Humph ! you think yourself mighty smart, Bob
Burton," snarled Wolverton. "Nat'rally you'd
like to get rid of paying the interest, if you could ;
but you've got a business man to deal with, not a
fool."
"You are no fool where money is concerned,
there's no doubt about that. But I want to ask you
one thing, if my father didn't pay you the money
which mother can testify to his carrying with him
on the morning of his death, what became of it?"
"How should I know ? Did you search his wallet
when he was brought home?"
"Yes."
"And you didn't find the money?"
"No."
"So you conclude that he paid it to me. Let me
tell you, young man, that doesn't follow. He may
have been robbed when he was lying on the ground
insensible."
84 BOB BURTON
"I think very likely he was," returned Bob,
quietly.
"What do you mean by that?" demanded Wol-
verton, uneasily. "Who could have robbed him?"
"Possibly some one that we wouldn't be likely to
suspect."
"What does he mean? Can he possibly suspect
me?" thought Wolverton, fixing his eyes on Bob's
face. "But no! I certainly didn't take any money
from him."
"You may be right," he said aloud; "but that
hasn't anything to do with my claim for interest.
Whether your father was robbed of the money, or
spent it, is all one to me. It wasn't paid to me, I
can certify."
"Would you be willing to swear that the money
was not paid to you that day, Mr. Wolverton?"
"Do you mean to insult me ? Haven't I told you
it was not paid?"
"Do you expect me to pay it to you, then ?" asked
Mrs. Burton.
"Widder, I am surprised you should ask such a
foolish question. It lies in a nutshell. I'm entitled
to interest on the money I let your husband have on
mortgage. You admit that?"
"Yes."
"I'm glad you admit that. As your husband
didn't pay, I look to you for it. I can say no more."
Mrs. Burton took a pocketbook from a pocket in
BOB BURTON 85
her dress, and handed it to Robert. Bob opened it,
and drew therefrom a folded paper.
"Mr. Wolverton," he said, quietly, "I hold in
my hand a receipt signed by yourself for the inter-
est— one hundred and fifty dollars — dated the very
day that my poor father died. What have you to
say to it?"
Mr. Wolverton sprang to his feet, pale and
panic-stricken.
"Where did you get that paper?" he stammered,
hoarsely.
86 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XIII
WHAT BOB FOUND IN THE CREEK
"When my poor husband left your office this
receipt was in his possession," answered Mrs.
Burton.
"I deny it," exclaimed Aaron Wolverton, in a
tone of excitement.
"Where else should it be?" inquired the widow,
eying him fixedly.
"I don't know. How should I ?"
"So you deny that the signature is yours, Mr.
Wolverton?"
"Let me see it."
"I would rather not," said Bob, drawing back
the receipt from Wolverton's extended hand.
"That's enough!" said Wolverton, quickly.
"You are afraid to show it. I denounce it as a base
forgery."
"That will do no good," said the boy, unterri-
fied. "I have shown the receipt to Mr. Dornton,
and he pronounces the signature genuine."
BOB BURTON 87
"What made you show it to him?" asked Wol-
verton, discomfited.
"Because I thought it likely, after your demand-
ing the interest the second time, that you would
deny it."
"Probably I know my own signature better than
Mr. Dornton can."
"I have no doubt you will recognize it," and
Bob, unfolding the paper, held it in such a manner
that Wolverton could read it.
"It may be my signature; it looks like it," said
Wolverton, quickly deciding upon a new evasion,
"but it was never delivered to your father."
"How, then, do you account for its being writ-
ten?" asked Mrs. Burton, in natural surprise.
"I made it out on the day your husband died,"
Wolverton answered, glibly, "anticipating that he
would pay the money. He did not do it, and so the
receipt remained in my desk."
Bob and his mother regarded each other in sur-
prise. They were not prepared for such a bare-
faced falsehood.
"Perhaps you will account for its not being in
your desk now," said Bob.
"I can do so, readily," returned Wolverton,
maliciously. "Somebody must have stolen it from
my desk."
"I think you will find it hard to prove this, Mr.
Wolverton."
88 BOB BURTON
"It is true, and I don't propose to lose my money
on account of a stolen receipt. You will find that
you can't so easily circumvent Aaron Wolverton."
"You are quite welcome to adopt this line of de-
fense, Mr. Wolverton, if you think best. You
ought to know whether the public will believe such
an improbable tale."
"If you had the receipt why didn't you show it to
me before?" Wolverton asked, in a triumphant
tone. "I came here soon after your father's death,
and asked for my interest. Your mother admitted,
then, that she had no receipt."
"We had not found it then."
"Where, and when, did you find it?"
"I do not propose to tell."
Wolverton shook his head, satirically.
"And a very good reason you have, I make no
doubt."
"Suppose I tell you my theory, Mr. Wolverton."
"I wish you would," and Wolverton leaned back
in his chair and gazed defiantly at the boy he so
much hated.
"My father paid you the interest, and took a re-
ceipt. He had it on his person when he met with
his death. When he was lying outstretched in
death" — here Bob's eyes moistened — "some one
came up, and, bending over him, took the receipt
from his pocket."
BOB BURTON 89
Mr. Woiverton's face grew pale as Bob pro-
ceeded.
"A very pretty romance !" he sneered, recovering
himself after an instant.
"It is something more than romance," Bob pro-
ceeded slowly and gravely. "It is true; the man
who was guilty of this mean theft from a man made
helpless by death is known. He was seen at this
contemptible work."
"It is a lie!" cried Wolverton, hoarsely, his face
the color of chalk.
"It is a solemn truth."
"Who saw him?"
"I don't propose to tell — yet, if necessary, it will
be told in a court of justice."
Wolverton saw that he was found out, but he
could not afford to acknowledge. His best way of
getting off was to fly into a rage, and this was easy
for him.
"I denounce this as a base conspiracy," he said,
rising as he spoke. "That receipt was stolen from
my desk."
"Then we do not need to inquire who took it
from the vest pocket of my poor father."
"Robert Burton, I will get even with you for this
insult," said Wolverton, shaking his fist at the
manly boy. "You and your mother."
"Leave out my mother's name," said Bob,
sternly.
90 BOB BURTON
"I will; I don't think she would be capable of
such meanness. You, then, are engaged in a plot
to rob me of a hundred and fifty dollars. To fur-
ther this wicked scheme, you or your agent have
stolen this receipt from my desk. I can have you
arrested for burglary. It is no more nor less than
that."
"You can do so if you like, Mr. Wolverton. In
that case the public shall know that you stole the
receipt from my poor father after his death. I can
produce an eye-witness."
Wolverton saw that he was in a trap. Such a
disclosure would injure him infinitely in the opinion
of his neighbors, for it would be believed. There
was no help for it. He must lose the hundred and
fifty dollars upon which, though he had no claim to
it, he had so confidently reckoned.
"You will hear from me!" he said, savagely, as
he jammed his hat down upon his head, and hastily
left the apartment. "Aaron Wolverton is not the
man to give in to fraud."
Neither Bob nor his mother answered him, but
Mrs. Burton asked anxiously, after his departure:
"Do you think he will do anything, Bob?"
"No, mother; he sees that he is in a trap, and
will think it wisest to let the matter drop."
This, in fact, turned out to be the case. Morti-
fying as it was to give in, Wolverton did not dare
to act otherwise. He would have given something
BOB BURTON 91
handsome, mean though he was, if he could have
found out, first, who saw him rob the dead man,
and next, who extracted the stolen receipt from his
desk. He was inclined to guess that it was Bob in
both cases. It never occurred to him that Clip was
the eye-witness whose testimony could brand him
with this contemptible crime. Nor did he think of
Sam in connection with his own loss of the receipt.
He knew Sam's timidity, and did not believe the
boy would have dared to do such a thing.
All the next day, in consequence of his disap-
pointment, Mr. Wolverton was unusually cross and
irritable. He even snapped at his sister, who re-
plied, with spirit :
"Look here, Aaron, you needn't snap at me, for
I won't stand it."
"How will you help it?" he sneered.
"By leaving your house, and letting you get an-
other housekeeper. I can earn my own living with-
out working any harder than I do here, and a better
living, too. While I stay here, you've got to treat
me decently."
Wolverton began to see that he had made a mis-
take. Any other housekeeper would cost him more,
and he could find none that would be so economical.
"I don't mean anything, Sally," he said; "but
I'm worried."
"What worries you?"
"A heavy loss."
92 BOB BURTON
"How much?"
"A hundred and fifty dollars."
"How is that?"
"I have lost a receipt, but I can't explain how.
A hundred and fifty dollars is a great deal of
money, Sally."
"I should say it was. Why can't you tell me
about it?"
"Perhaps I will some time."
About two months later, while Bob was superin-
tending the harvesting of the wheat — the staple
crop of the Burton Ranch — Clip came running up
to him in visible excitement.
"Oh, Massa Bob," he exclaimed, "there is a
ferryboat coming down the creek, with nobody on
it, and it's done got stuck ag'inst a snag. Come,
quick, and we can take it for our own. Findings
is keepings."
Bob lost no time in following Clip's suggestion.
He hurried to the creek, and there, a few rods from
shore, he discovered the boat stranded in the mud,
for it was low tide.
BOB BURTON 93
CHAPTER XIV
THE BOAT AND ITS OWNER
The boat was shaped somewhat like the popular
representations of Noah's Ark. It was probably
ninety feet in length by thirty-eight feet in width,
and was roofed. Bob recognized it at once as a
ferryboat of the style used at different points on the
river, to convey passengers and teams across the
river. It was a double-ender, like the much larger
ferryboats that are used on the East River, between
New York and Brooklyn.
The creek on which the Burton Ranch was lo-
cated was really large enough for a river, and Bob
concluded that this boat had been used at a point
higher up.
"I wish I owned that boat, Clip," said Bob.
"What would you do with it, Massa Bob?"
"I'll tell you what I'd do, Clip; I'd go down to
St. Louis on it."
"Will you take me with you, Massa Bob ?" asked
Clip, eagerly.
"I will, if I go, Clip."
94 BOB BURTON
"Golly, won't that be fine!" said the delighted
Clip. "How long will you stay, Massa Bob?"
Clip supposed Bob intended a pleasure trip, for
in his eyes pleasure was the chief end of living.
But Bob was more practical and business-like. He
had an idea which seemed to him a good one,
though as yet he had mentioned it to no one.
"Get out the boat, Clip," he said, "and we'll go
aboard. I want to see if the boat will be large
enough for my purpose."
Clip laughed in amusement.
"You must think you'self mighty big, Massa
Bob," he said, "if you think there isn't room on
that boat for you and me."
"It would certainly be large enough for two pas-
sengers like ourselves, Clip," answered Bob, smil-
ing; "for that matter our rowboat is large enough
for two boys, but if I go I shall carry a load with
me."
Clip was still in the dark, but he was busying
himself in unloosing the rowboat, according to
Bob's bidding. The two boys jumped in, and a few
strokes of the oars carried them to the ferryboat.
Fastening the flat-bottomed boat, the two boys
clambered on deck.
Bob found the boat in good condition. It had
occurred to him that it had been deserted as old and
past service, and allowed to drift down the creek,
but an examination showed that in this conjecture
BOB BURTON 95
he was mistaken. It was sufficiently good to serve
for years yet. This discovery was gratifying in one
way, but in another it was a disappointment. As a
boat of little value, Bob could have taken possession
of it, fairly confident that no one would interfere
with his claim, but in its present condition it was
hardly likely to be without an owner, who would
appear sooner or later and put in his claim to it.
"It seems to be a pretty good boat," said Bob.
"Dat's so, Massa Bob."
"It must have slipped its moorings and drifted
down the creek during the night. I wish I knew
who owned it."
"You an' me own it, Massa Bob. Finding is
keeping."
"I am afraid it won't be so in the present case.
Probably the owner will appear before long."
"Can't we get off down de river afore he comes,
Massa Bob?"
"That wouldn't be honest, Clip."
Clip scratched his head in perplexity. He was
not troubled with conscientious scruples, and was
not as clear about the rights of property as his
young patron. He was accustomed, however, to
accept whatever Bob said as correct and final. In
fact, he was content to let Bob do his thinking for
him.
"What was you goin' to take down the ribber,.
Massa Bob?" he asked.
96 BOB BURTON
"I'll tell you what I was thinking of, Clip. You
know we are gathering our crop of grain, and of
course it must be sold. Now, traders ask a large
commission for taking the wheat to market, and
this would be a heavy tax. If I could load it on
board this boat, and take it down myself, I should
save all that, and I could sell it myself in St. Louis."
"Can I go, too?" asked Clip, anxiously.
"You shall go if I do," answered Bob.
"When will you know?" asked Clip, eagerly.
"When I find out whether I can use the boat. I
had thought of building a raft, but that wouldn't
do. No raft that I could build would carry our
crop to St. Louis. This boat will be just the thing.
I think it must have been used for that purpose
before. See those large bins on each side. Each
would contain from fifty to a hundred bushels of
wheat. I only wish I knew the owner. Even if I
couldn't buy the boat, I might make a bargain to
hire it."
Bob had hardly finished his sentence when he
heard a voice hailing him from the bank.
Going to the end of the boat, he looked toward
the shore, and saw a tall, angular figure, who seem-
ed from his dress and appearance to be a Western
Yankee. His figure was tall and angular, his face
of the kind usually described as hatchet face, with a
long, thin nose, and his head was surmounted by a
BOB BURTON 97
flapping sombrero, soft, broad-brimmed and shape-
less.
"Boat, ahoy!" called the stranger.
"Did you wish to speak to us?" asked Bob,
politely.
"I reckon I do," answered the stranger. "I want
you to take me aboard that boat."
"Is the boat yours?" asked Bob.
"It doesn't belong to anybody else," was the
reply.
"Untie the boat, Clip. We'll go back !" ordered
Bob.
The two boys dropped into the rowboat, and
soon touched the bank.
"If you will get in we'll row you over," said Bob.
"When did you lose the boat?"
"It drifted down last night," answered the new
acquaintance. "I've been usin' it as a ferryboat
about twenty miles up the creek. Last night I
thought it was tied securely, but this morning it
was gone."
"I don't see how it could have broken away."
"Like as not some mischievous boy cut the
cable," was the answer. "Anyway, here it is, and
here am I, Ichabod Slocum, the owner."
"Then the boat and its owner are once more
united."
"Yes, but that don't take the boat back to where
it belongs. It's drifted down here, easy enough;
9 8 BOB BURTON
mebbe one of you boys will tell me how it's goin' to
drift back."
"There may be some difficulty about that," an-
swered Bob, with a smile. "How long have you
owned the boat?"
"About two years. I've been usin' her as a ferry-
boat between Transfer City and Romeo, and I've
made a pretty fair livin' at it."
Bob was familiar with the names of these towns,
though he had never been so far up the creek.
"I'm afraid you'll have trouble in getting the
boat back," he said. "It will make quite an inter-
ruption in your business."
"I don't know as I keer so much about that,"
said Ichabod Slocum, thoughtfully. "I've been
thinkin' for some time about packin' up and goin'
further west. I've got a cousin in Oregon, and I
reckon I might like to go out there for a year or
two."
"Then, perhaps you might like to dispose of the
boat, Mr. Slocum," said Bob, eagerly.
"Well, I might," said Ichabod Slocum, cautious-
ly. "Do you know of anybody around here that
wants a boat?"
"I might like it myself," was Bob's reply.
"What on airth does a boy like you want of a
ferryboat?" asked Slocum, in surprise.
"I have a plan in my head," said Bob; "and
think it would be useful to me."
BOB BURTON 99
"There ain't no call for a ferryboat here," said
Ichabod.
"No ; you are right there. I may as well tell you
what I am thinking of. Our crop of grain is ready
to harvest, and I should like to load it on this boat
and carry it down to St. Louis and sell it there
myself."
ioo BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XV
BOB BUYS THE FERRYBOAT
"Good!" said Mr. Slocum. "I like your pluck.
Well, there's the boat. You can have it if you
want it — for a fair price, of course."
"What do you call a fair price?" asked Bob.
"I don't mind savin' that I bought it second-
hand myself, and I've got good value out of it. I
might sell it for — a hundred and twenty-five
dollars."
Bob shook his head.
"That may be cheap," he answered; "but I can't
afford to pay so much money."
"You can sell it at St. Louis when you're through
usin' it."
"I should have to take my risk of it."
"You seem to be pretty good on a trade, for a
boy. I reckon you'll sell it."
"Do you want all the money down, Mr. Slo-
cum?"
"Well, I might wait for half of it, ef I think it's
safe. What's your security?"
BOB BURTON 101
"We — that is, mother and I — own the ranch
bordering on the other side of the creek. The
wheat crop we are harvesting will probably amount
to fourteen hundred bushels. I understand it is
selling for two dollars a bushel or thereabouts."
(This was soon after the war, when high prices
prevailed for nearly all articles, including farm
products.)
"I reckon you're safe, then," said Mr. Slocum.
"Now we'll see if we can agree upon a price."
I will not follow Bob and Mr. Slocum in the
bargaining that succeeded. The latter was the
sharper of the two, but Bob felt obliged to reduce
the price as much as possible, in view of the heavy
mortgage upon the ranch.
"I shall never breathe easy till that mortgage is
paid, mother," he said. "Mr. Wolverton is about
the last man I like to owe. His attempt to collect
the interest twice shows that he is unscrupulous.
Besides, he has a grudge against me, and it would
give him pleasure, I feel sure, to injure me."
"I am afraid you are right, Robert," answered
his mother. "We must do our best, and Heaven
will help us."
Finally Mr. Slocum agreed to accept seventy-five
dollars cash down, or eighty dollars, half in cash,
and the remainder payable after Bob's river trip
was over and the crop disposed of.
"I wouldn't make such terms to any one else,"
102 BOB BURTON
said the boat owner, "but I've been a boy myself,
and I had a hard row to hoe, you bet. You seem
like a smart lad, and I'm favorin' you all I can."
"Thank you, Mr. Slocum. I consider your price
very fair, and you may depend upon my carrying
out my agreement. Now, if you will come up to the
house, I will offer you some dinner, and pay you the
money."
Ichabod Slocum readily accepted the invitation,
and the three went up to the house together.
When Bob told his mother of the bargain he had
made, she was somewhat startled. She felt that he
did not realize how great an enterprise he had em-
barked in.
"You forget, Robert, that you are only a boy,"
she said.
"No, mother, I don't forget it. But I have to
take a man's part, now that father is dead."
"St. Louis is a long distance away, and you have
no experience in business."
"On the other hand, mother, if we sell here, we
must make a great sacrifice — twenty-five cents a
bushel at least, and that on fourteen hundred bush-
els would amount to three hundred and fifty dol-
lars. Now Clip and I can navigate the boat to St.
Louis and return for less than quarter of that sum."
"The boy speaks sense, ma'am," said Ichabod
Slocum. "He's only a kid, but he's a smart one.
He's good at a bargain, too. He made me take
BOB BURTON 103
fifty dollars less for the boat than I meant to. You
can trust him better than a good many men."
"I am glad you have so favorable an opinion of
Robert, Mr. Slocum," said Mrs. Burton. "I sup-
pose I must yield to his desire."
"Then I may go, mother?"
"Yes, Robert; you have my consent."
"Then the next thing is to pay Mr. Slocum for
his boat."
This matter was speedily arranged.
"I wish, Mr. Slocum," said Bob, "that you were
going to St. Louis. I would be very glad to give
you free passage."
"Thank you, lad, but I must turn my steps in a
different direction."
"Shall I have any difficulty in managing the boat
on our course down the river?"
"No, you will drift with the current. It is easy
enough to go downstream. The trouble is to get
back. But for that I wouldn't have sold you the
boat. At night you tie up anywhere it is conveni-
ent, and start again the next morning."
"That seems easy enough. Do you know how
far it is to St. Louis, Mr. Slocum?"
"There you have me, lad. I ain't much on rec-
konin' distances."
"I have heard your father say, Robert, that it is
about three hundred miles from here to the city. I
don't like to have you go so far from me."
104 BOB BURTON
"I've got Clip to take care of me, mother," said
Bob, humorously.
"I'll take care of Massa Bob, missis," said Clip,
earnestly.
"I suppose I ought to feel satisfied with that as-
surance," said Mrs. Burton, smiling; "but I have
never been accustomed to think of Clip as a guar-
dian."
"I'll guardian him, missis," promised Clip, amid
general laughter.
After dinner, in company with Mr. Slocum, Bob
and Clip went on board the ferryboat, and made a
thorough examination of the craft, with special
reference to the use for which it was intended.
"You expect to harvest fourteen hundred bush-
els?" inquired Mr. Slocum.
"Yes; somewhere about that amount."
"Then you may need to make two or three extra
bins."
"That will be a simple matter," said Bob.
"The roof over the boat will keep the wheat dry
and in good condition. When you get to the city
you can sell it all to one party, and superintend the
removal yourself. You can hire all the help you
need there."
Bob was more and more pleased with his pur-
chase.
"It is just what I wanted," he said, enthusiasti-
cally. "The expenses will be almost nothing. We
BOB BURTON 105
can take a supply of provisions with us, enough to
keep us during the trip, and when the business is
concluded we can return on some river steamer.
We'll have a fine time, Clip."
"Golly! Massa Bob, dat's so."
"You will need to tie the boat," continued Icha-
bod Slocum, "or it may float off during the night,
and that would upset all your plans. Have you a
stout rope on the place?"
"I think not. I shall have to buy one at the
store, or else across the river."
"Then you had better attend to that at once.
The boat may become dislodged at any moment."
After Mr. Slocum's departure, Bob lost no time
in attending to this important matter. He pro-
cured a heavy rope, of sufficient strength, and pro-
ceeded to secure the boat to a tree on the bank.
"How soon will we start, Massa Bob?" asked
Clip, who was anxious for the excursion to com-
mence. He looked upon it somewhat in the light
of an extended picnic, and it may be added that Bob
also, apart from any consideration of business, an-
ticipated considerable enjoyment from the trip
down the river.
"Don't tell anybody what we are going to do
with the boat, Clip," said Bob. "It will be a fort-
night before we start, and I don't care to have much
said about the matter beforehand."
Clip promised implicit obedience, but it was not
io6 BOB BURTON
altogether certain that he would be able to keep
strictly to his word, for keeping a secret was not an
easy thing for him to do.
Of course it leaked out that Bob had bought a
ferryboat. Among others Mr. Wolverton heard
it, but he did not dream of the use to which Bob
intended to put it. He spoke of it as a boy's folly,
and instanced it as an illustration of the boy's unfit-
ness for the charge of the ranch. It was generally
supposed that Bob had bought it on speculation,
hoping to make a good profit on the sale, and Bob
suffered this idea to remain uncontradicted.
Meanwhile he pushed forward as rapidly as pos-
sible the harvest of the wheat, being anxious to get
it to market.
When this work was nearly finished Mr. Wol-
verton thought it time to make a proposal to Mrs.
Burton, which, if accepted, would bring him a
handsome profit.
BOB BURTON 107
CHAPTER XVI
wolverton' s baffled scheme
Mrs. Burton was somewhat surprised, one
evening, when told that Mr. Wolverton was at the
door, and desired to speak with her. Since the time
his demand for a second payment of the interest
had been met by a production of the receipt, he had
kept away from the ranch. It might have been the
mortification arising from baffled villainy, or, again,
from the knowledge that no advantage could be
gained from another interview. At all events, he
remained away till the wheat was nearly harvested.
Then he called, because he had a purpose to serve.
"Tell Mrs. Burton that I wish to see her on busi-
ness," he said to the servant who answered his
knock.
"You can show Mr. Wolverton in," said the
widow.
Directly the guest was ushered into her presence.
"I needn't ask if I see you well, Mrs. Burton,"
he said, suavely. "Your appearance is a sufficient
108 BOB BURTON
"Thank you," answered Mrs. Burton, coldly.
Aaron Wolverton noticed the coldness, but did
not abate any of his suavity. He only said to him-
self : "The time will come when you will feel forced
to give me a better reception, my lady!"
"I have called on a little business," he resumed.
"Is it about the interest?" asked the widow.
"No; for the present I waive that. I have been
made the victim of a base theft, and it may cost me
a hundred and fifty dollars ; but I will not speak of
that now."
"What other business can you have with me?"
"I have come to make you an offer."
"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Burton, indignantly.
Aaron Wolverton chuckled, thereby showing a
row of defective and discolored teeth.
"You misunderstand me," he said. "I come to
make you an offer for your wheat crop, which I
suppose is nearly all gathered in."
"Yes," answered the widow, relieved. "Robert
tells me that it will be all harvested within three
days."
"Just so. Now, I am willing to save you a great
deal of trouble by buying the entire crop at a fair
valuation."
"In that case, Mr. Wolverton, you will allow me
to send for Robert. He attends to the business of
the ranch, and understands much more about it than
I do."
BOB BURTON 109
"Wait a minute, Mrs. Burton. Robert is no
doubt a smart boy, but you give him too much
credit."
"I don't think I do. He has shown, since his
father's death, a judgment not often found in a boy
of his age."
"She is infatuated about that boy," thought
Wolverton. "However, as I have a point to carry,
I won't dispute with her."
"You may be right," he said; "but in this matter
I venture to think that you and I can make a bar-
gain without any outside help."
"You can, at any rate, state your proposition,
Mr. Wolverton."
"Have you any idea as to the amount of your
wheat crop?"
"Robert tells me there will be not far from four-
teen hundred bushels."
Wolverton's eyes showed his pleasure. If he
made the bargain proposed, this would bring him
an excellent profit. "Very good!" he said. "It
will be a great help to you."
"Yes; I feel that we are fortunate, especially
when I consider that the ranch has been carried on
by a boy of sixteen."
"Well, Mrs. Burton, I am a man of few words.
I will give you a dollar and a half a bushel for your
wheat, and this will give you, on the basis of four-
no BOB BURTON
teen hundred bushels, twenty-one hundred dollars.
You are a very fortunate woman."
"But, Mr. Wolverton, Robert tells me he expects
to get at least two dollars a bushel."
It must be remembered that grain was then sell-
ing at "war prices."
"I don't know what the boy can be thinking of,"
said Wolverton, contemptuously. "Two dollars a
bushel! Why don't he say five dollars at once?"
"He gained his information from a St. Louis
paper."
"My dear madam, the price here and the price in
St. Louis are two entirely different matters. You
must be aware that it will cost a good deal to trans-
port the wheat to St. Louis."
"Surely it cannot cost fifty cents a bushel?"
"No; but it is a great mistake to suppose that
you can get two dollars a bushel in St. Louis."
"I must leave the matter to Robert to decide."
"Excuse my saying that this is very foolish. The
boy has not a man's judgment."
"Nevertheless, I must consult him before decid-
ing."
Mrs. Burton spoke so plainly that Wolverton
said, sullenly: "Do as you please, Mrs. Burton,
but I would like to settle the matter to-night."
Robert was sent for, and, being near the house,
entered without delay.
BOB BURTON iii
Mr. Wolverton's proposition was made known
to him.
"Mr. Wolverton," said Bob, regarding that gen-
tleman with a dislike he did not attempt to conceal,
"you would make a very good bargain if we ac-
cepted your proposal."
"Not much," answered Wolverton, hastily. "Of
course, I should make a little something, but I am
chiefly influenced in making the offer by a desire to
save your mother trouble."
"You would make seven hundred dollars at least,
out of which you would only have to pay for trans-
portation to St. Louis."
"That is a very ridiculous statement," said Wol-
verton, sharply.
"Why so? The wheat will fetch two dollars a
bushel in the market."
"Some one has been deceiving you."
"Shall I show you the paper in which I saw the
quotations?"
"No; it is erroneous. Besides, the expense of
carrying the grain to market will be very large."
"It won't be fifty cents a bushel."
"Young man, you are advising your mother
against her best interests. Young people are apt to
be headstrong. I should not expect to make much
money out of the operation."
"Why, then, do you make the offer?"
ii2 BOB BURTON
"I have already told you that I wished to save
your mother trouble."
"We are much obliged to you, but we decline
your proposal."
"Then," said Wolverton, spitefully, "I shall
have to hold you to the terms of the mortgage. I
had intended to favor you, but after the tone you
have taken with me, I shall not do so."
"To what terms do you refer, Mr. Wolverton?"
asked the widow.
"I will tell you. I have the right at the end of
six months to call for a payment of half the mort-
gage— fifteen hundred dollars. That will make, in
addition to the interest then due, sixteen hundred
and fifty dollars."
"Can this be true?" asked Mrs. Burton, in dis-
may, turning to Robert.
"It is so specified in the mortgage," answered
Wolverton, triumphantly. "You can examine it
for yourself. I have only to say, that, had you
accepted my offer, I would have been content with,
say, one-quarter of the sum, knowing that it would
be inconvenient for you to pay half."
Bob, as well as his mother, was taken by surprise,
but he was in no way disposed to yield.
"We should be no better off," he said. "We
should lose at least five hundred dollars by accept-
ing your offer, and that we cannot afford to do."
"You refuse, then?" said Wolverton, angrily.
BOB BURTON 113
"Yes."
"Then all I have to say is that you will rue this
day," and the agent got up hastily, but upon second
thought sat down again.
"How do you expect to get your grain to mar-
ket?" he asked.
"I shall take it myself."
"What do you mean?"
"I shall store it on a boat I have purchased, and
Clip and I will take it to St. Louis."
"You must be crack-brained!" ejaculated Wol-
verton. "I never heard of a more insane project."
"I hope to disappoint you, Mr. Wolverton. At
any rate, my mind is made up."
Wolverton shuffled out of the room, in impotent
rage.
"We have made him our enemy, Robert," said
his mother, apprehensively.
"He was our enemy before, mother. He evi-
dently wants to ruin us."
As Wolverton went home, one thought was up-
permost in his mind. "How could he prevent Bob
from making the trip to St. Louis?"
ii4 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XVII
wolverton's poor tenant
Bob hired a couple of extra hands, and made
haste to finish harvesting his wheat, for he was
anxious to start on the trip down the river as soon
as possible. His anticipations as to the size of the
crop were justified. It footed up fourteen hundred
and seventy-five bushels, and this, at two dollars per
bushel, would fetch in market nearly three thous-
and dollars.
"That's a pretty good crop for a boy to raise,
mother," said Bob, with pardonable exultation.
"You haven't lost anything by allowing me to run
the ranch."
"Quite true, Robert. You have accomplished
wonders. I don't know what I could have done
without you. I know very little of farming my-
self."
"I helped him, missis," said Clip, coveting a
share of approval for himself.
"Yes," said Bob, smiling, "Clip has been my
right-hand man. I can't say he has worked very,
hard himself, but he has superintended the others."
BOB BURTON 115
"Yes, missis; dat's what I done!" said Clip,
proudly.
He did not venture to pronounce the word, for it
was too much for him, but he was vaguely conscious
that it was something important and complimen-
tary.
"Then I must buy Clip a new suit," said Mrs.
Burton, smiling.
"I'll buy it in St. Louis, mother."
When the grain was all gathered in Bob began
to load it on the ferryboat. Wolverton sent Sam
round every day to report progress, but did not
excite his nephew's suspicions by appearing to take
unusual interest in the matter.
To prepare the reader for a circumstance which
happened about this time, I find it necessary to in-
troduce another character, who was able to do Bob
an important service.
In a small house, about three-quarters of a mile
beyond the Burton Ranch, lived Dan Woods, a
poor man, with a large family. He hired the house
which he occupied and a few acres of land from
Aaron Wolverton, who had obtained possession of
it by foreclosing a mortgage which he held. He
permitted Woods, the former owner, to remain as
a tenant in the house which once belonged to him,
charging him rather more than an average rent.
The poor man raised vegetables and a small crop
of wheat, enough of each for his own family, and
n6 BOB BURTON
hired out to neighbors for the balance of his time.
He obtained more employment on the Burton
Ranch than anywhere else, and Mrs. Burton had
also sympathized with him in his difficult struggle
to maintain his family. But, in spite of friends and
his own untiring industry, Dan Woods fell behind.
There were five children to support, and they re-
quired not only food but clothing, and Dan found
it uphill work.
His monthly rent was ten dollars, a small sum in
itself, but large for this much-burdened man to pay.
But however poorly he might fare in other respects,
Dan knew that it was important to have this sum
ready on the first day of every month. Wolverton
was a hard landlord, and admitted of no excuse.
More than once after the rent had been paid there
was not a dollar left in his purse, or a pinch of food
in his house.
A week before this time Dan was looking for his
landlord's call with unusual anxiety. He had been
sick nearly a week during the previous month, and
this had so curtailed his earnings that he had but
six dollars ready in place of ten. Would his sick-
ness be accepted as an excuse ? He feared not.
Wolverton's call was made on time. He had
some expectation that the rent would not be ready,
for he knew Dan had been sick ; but he was resolved
to show him no consideration.
"His sickness is nothing to me," he reflected. "It
BOB BURTON 117
would be a pretty state of affairs if landlords allow-
ed themselves to be cheated out of their rent for
such a cause."
Dan Woods was at work in the yard when Wol-
verton approached. He was splitting some wood
for use in the kitchen stove. His heart sank within
him when he saw the keen, sharp features of his
landlord.
"Good morning, Dan," said Wolverton, with
suavity. His expression was amiable, as it general-
ly was when he was collecting money, but it suffered
a remarkable change if the money was not forth-
coming.
"Good morning, sir," answered Woods, with a
troubled look.
"You've got a nice, snug place here, Dan; it's a
fine home for your family."
"I don't complain of it, sir. As I once owned it
myself, probably I set more store by it than a
stranger would."
"Just so, Dan. You get it at a very low rent,
too. If it were anyone but yourself I should really
feel that I ought to raise the rent to twenty dol-
lars."
"I hope you won't do that, sir," said Woods, in
alarm. "It's all I can do to raise ten dollars a
month, with all my other expenses."
"Oh, well, I'll let it remain at the present figure
as long as you pay me promptly," emphasizing the
n8 BOB BURTON
last words. "Of course I have a right to expect
that."
"Dan's heart sank within him. It was clear he
could not expect any consideration from such a
man. But the truth must be told.
"No doubt you are right, Mr. Wolverton, and
you've found me pretty prompt so far."
"So I have, Dan. I know you wouldn't be dis-
honest enough to make me wait."
Dan's heart sank still lower. It was becoming
harder every moment to own that he was deficient.
"Still, Mr. Wolverton, bad luck will come "
"What!" exclaimed Wolverton, with a forbid-
ding scowl.
"As I was saying, sir, a man is sometimes un-
lucky. Now, I have been sick nearly a week out of
the last month, as you may have heard, and it's put
me back."
"What are you driving at, Dan Woods?" de-
manded Wolverton, severely. "I hope you're not
going to say that you are not ready to pay your
rent?"
"I haven't got the whole of it, sir; and that's a
fact."
"You haven't got the whole of it? How much
have you got?"
"I can pay you six dollars, Mr. Wolverton."
"Six dollars out of ten ! Why, this is positively
BOB BURTON 119
shameful ! I wonder you are not ashamed to tell
me."
"There is no shame about it that I can see," an-
swered Dan, plucking up his spirit. "I didn't fall
sick on purpose, and when I was sick I couldn't
work."
"You ought to have one month's rent laid by, so
that whatever happens you could pay it on time."
"That's easy to say, Mr. Wolverton, but it takes
every cent of my earnings to pay my monthly ex-
penses. There's little chance to save."
"Any one can save who chooses," retorted Wol-
verton, sharply.
"Shall I get you the six dollars, sir?"
"Yes, give it to me."
"And you will wait for the other four?"
"Till to-morrow night."
"But how can I get it by to-morrow night?"
asked Dan, in dismay.
"That's your lookout, not mine. All I have to
say is, unless it is paid to me to-morrow night you
must move the next day."
With these words Wolverton went off. Dan
Woods, in his trouble, went to Bob Burton the next
day, and Bob readily lent him the money he needed.
"Thank you," said Dan, gratefully; "I won't
forget this favor."
"Don't make too much of it, Dan; it's a trifle."
"It's no trifle to me. But for you my family
120 BOB BURTON
would be turned out of house and home to-morrow.
The time may come when I can do you a service.'*
"Thank you, Dan."
The time came sooner than either anticipated.
BOB BURTON 121
CHAPTER XVIII
wolverton' s wicked plan
Wolverton was somewhat puzzled when on his
next call Dan Woods paid the balance due on his
rent.
"So you raised the money after all ?" he said. "I
thought you could if you made an effort."
"I borrowed the money, sir."
"Of whom?"
"It isn't any secret, Mr. Wolverton. I borrowed
it of a neighbor who has always been kind to me —
Bob Burton."
Wolverton shrugged his shoulders.
"I didn't know he had money to lend," he said.
"He always has money for a poor man who
needs it."
"All right ! I shall know where to go when I
need money," responded Wolverton, with a grin.
"It suits me well enough to have the boy throw
away his money," Wolverton said to himself. "It
will only draw nearer the time when he will have to
sue me for a favor."
122 BOB BURTON
That day Wolverton read in a St. Louis paper
that wheat was steadily rising, and had already
reached two dollars and six cents per bushel.
"I could make a fine thing of it if I had only
received the Burton wheat at a dollar and a half a
bushel," he reflected, regretfully. "If I had only
the widow to deal with, I might have succeeded, for
she knows nothing of business. But that confound-
ed boy is always putting a spoke in my wheel. If
he carries out his plan, and markets the wheat, it
will set him on his feet for the year to come."
This reflection made Wolverton feel gloomy.
There are some men who are cheered by the pros-
perity of their neighbors, but he was not one of
them. He began to speculate as to whether there
was any way of interfering with Bob's schemes.
Generally when a man is seeking a way of injuring
his neighbor he succeeds in finding one. This was
the plan that suggested itself to Wolverton : If he
could set the ferryboat adrift when the grain was
all stored it would float downstream, and the
chances were against its being recovered. It would
be mean, and even criminal, to be sure. For the
first, Wolverton did not care; for the second, he
would take care that no one caught him at it. He
did not think of employing any one else in the mat-
ter, for he knew of no one he could trust; and he
felt that he could do it more effectually than any
agent, however trustworthy.
BOB BURTON 123
Wolverton was so full of the plan, which com-
mended itself to him as both simple and effective,
that he took a walk late in the evening from his
house to the point on the creek where the boat was
tethered.
Now, it so happened that Dan Woods, who had
been employed all day, had occasion to go to the
village in the evening to procure a few groceries
from the village store. He delayed for a time,
having met an old acquaintance, and it was half-
past nine when he set out on his return homeward.
His way led him not only by the Burton home-
stead, but by the river bend where Bob kept his
rowboat — the same point also where the ferryboat
was tied.
As he approached, he caught sight of a man's
figure standing on the bank. Who it was he could
not immediately distinguish on account of the dark-
ness.
"It may be some one bent on mischief," he
thought to himself. "I will watch him and find
out, if I can, who it is."
He kept on his way stealthily till he was within a
dozen feet, when he slipped behind a tree. Then it
dawned upon him who it was.
"It's Aaron Wolverton, as I'm a living man,"
he ejaculated, inwardly. "What can he be doing
here?"
It was Wolverton, as we know. The old man
'124 BOB BURTON
stood in silence on the bank, peering through the
darkness at the shadowy form of the ferryboat,
which already contained half the wheat crop of
Burton's Ranch — the loading having commenced
that morning. He had one habit which is unfortu-
nate with a conspirator — the habit of thinking
aloud — so he let out his secret to the watchful
listener.
"Sam tells me they expected to get half the crop
on board to-day," he soliloquized. "I sent him
over to get that very information, though he don't
know it. It is too early to do anything yet. To-
morrow night the whole cargo will be stored, and
then it will be time to cut the rope and let it drift.
I should be glad to see the boy's face," he chuckled,
"when he comes down to the creek the next morn-
ing and finds the boat gone. That will put him at
my mercy, and the widow, too," he added, after a
pause. "He will repent too late that he thwarted
me. I will work in secret, but I get there all the
same."
Wolverton clasped his hands behind his back
and, turning, walked thoughtfully away. He did
not see his tenant, who was crouching behind a tree
not over three feet from the path.
Dan Woods had no very favorable opinion of
Wolverton, but what he had heard surprised and
shocked him.
"I didn't think the old man was as wicked as
■BOB BURTON 125
that," he said to himself. "He is scheming to ruin
Bob and his mother. Why should he have such a
spite against them ?"
This is a question which we can answer, but
Woods became more puzzled the more he thought
about it. One thing was clear, however; he must
apprise Bob of the peril in which he stood. Even
if he had not received the last favor from our hero,
he would have felt in duty bound to do his best to
defeat Wolverton's wicked plan.
The next morning, therefore, he made an early
call at Burton's Ranch, and asked for a private
interview with Bob. He quickly revealed to him
the secret of which he had become possessed.
"Thank you, Dan," said Bob, warmly. "You
have done me a favor of the greatest importance.
I knew Wolverton was my enemy, and the enemy
of our family, but I did not think he would be
guilty of such a mean and wicked action. If he had
succeeded, I am afraid we should have lost the
farm."
"You won't let him succeed?" said Dan Woods,
anxiously.
"No ; forewarned is forearmed. I shall be ready
for Mr. Wolverton." And Bob closed his lips,
resolutely.
He deliberated whether he should let his mother
know of the threatened danger, but finally decided
not to do so. It would only worry her, and do no
126 BOB BURTON
good, as whatever measures of precaution were to
be taken, he must take. He did not even tell Clip ;
for though the young colored boy was devoted to
him, he was lacking in discretion, and might let out
the secret. Bob did not want to prevent the attempt
being made. He wished to catch Wolverton in
the act.
He did, however, take into his confidence a faith-
ful man who had worked for his father ever since
the ranch was taken, thinking it prudent to have
assistance near if needed.
That day the rest of the wheat was stored on the
ferryboat. All would be ready for a start the next
morning, and this Bob had decided to make. He
sent Clip to bed early, on the pretext that he must
have a good night's sleep, as he would be called
early. If Clip had had the least idea of what was
in the wind he would have insisted on sitting up to
see the fun, but he was absolutely ignorant of it.
Wolverton had learned from Sam, who was sur-
prised that his uncle should let him spend almost
all his time with his friends, Bob and Clip, that the
cargo had been stored.
"When do they start?" he asked, carelessly.
"To-morrow morning, uncle," Sam answered.
"If I had thought of it," said Wolverton, "I
would have asked young Burton to take my wheat
along, too."
BOB BURTON 127
"I don't think he would have room for It, Uncle
Aaron. The boat is about full now."
"Oh, well; I shall find some other way of send-
ing it," said Wolverton, carelessly.
About nine o'clock Wolverton stole out in the
darkness, and made his way stealthily to the bend
in the creek. He had with him a sharp razor — he
had no knife sharp enough — which he judged
would sever the thick rope.
Arrived at the place of his destination, he bent
over and drew out the razor, which he opened, and
commenced operations. But there was an unlooked-
for interference.
A light, boyish figure sprang from behind a tree,
and Bob Burton, laying his hand on Wolverton's
shoulder, demanded, indignantly:
"What are you doing here, Mr. Wolverton?"
Wolverton started, dropped the razor in the
river, and, with an expression of alarm, looked up
into Bob's face.
128 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XIX
MR. WOLVERTON MEETS TWO CONGENIAL SPIRITS
"What are you doing here, Mr. Wolverton?"
repeated Bob, sternly.
"Oh, it's you, Bob, is it?" said Wolverton, with
assumed lightness. "Really, you quite startled me,
coming upon me so suddenly in the dark."
"I noticed that you were startled," responded
Bob, coolly. "But that isn't answering my ques-
tion."
By this time Wolverton wa9 on his feet, and had
recovered his self-possession.
"What right have you to put questions to me,
you young whelp?" he demanded, angrily.
"Because I suspect you of designs on my prop-
erty."
"What do you mean?" snarled Wolverton.
"I will tell you ; I think that you meant to cut the
rope, and send my boat adrift."
"How dare you insult me by such a charge?"
demanded the agent, working himself into a rage.
BOB BURTON 129
"I have reason to think that you meant to do
what I have said."
"Why should I do it?"
"In order to injure me by the loss of my wheat."
"You are a fool, young man. I am inclined to
think, also, that you are out of your head."
"If you had any other purpose, what is it?"
Wolverton bethought himself that, in order to
avert suspicion, he must assign some reason for his
presence. To do this taxed his ingenuity consid-
erably.
"I thought I saw something in the water," he
said. "There it is, a twig; I see now."
"And what were you going to do with the
razor?"
"None of your business," said Wolverton, sud-
denly, finding it impossible, on the spur of the mo-
ment, to think of any reason.
"That is easy to understand," said Bob, signifi-
cantly. "Now, Mr. Wolverton, I have a warning
to give you. If anything befalls my boat, I shall
hold you responsible."
"Do you know who I am?" blustered Wolver-
ton. "How do you, a boy, dare to talk in this impu-
dent way to a man who has you in his power ?"
"It strikes me, Mr. Wolverton, that I hold you
in my power."
"Who would believe your unsupported asser-
tion?" sneered the agent."
130 BOB BURTON
"It is not unsupported. I brought with me Ed-
ward Jones, my faithful assistant, who has seen
your attempt to injure me."
At this Edward, a stalwart young man of
twenty-four, stepped into view.
"I saw it all," he said, briefly.
"You are ready to lie, and he to swear to it,"
said Wolverton, but his voice was not firm, for he
saw that the testimony against him was too strong
to be easily shaken.
"I don't wonder you deny it, Mr. Wolverton,"
said Bob.
"I won't remain here any longer to be insulted,"
said Wolverton, who was anxious to get away, now
that his plan had failed.
Bob did not reply, and the agent slunk away,
feeling far from comfortable.
"What cursed luck sent the boy to the creek to-
night?" he said to himself. "I was on the point of
succeeding, and then I would have had him in my
power. Could he have heard anything?"
Wolverton decided, however, that this was not
likely. He attributed Bob's presence to chance,
though his words seemed to indicate that he sus-
pected something. He was obliged to acknowledge
his defeat. Yet it would be possible for him to
return in an hour or two and carry out his evil plan.
But it would be too hazardous. The crime would
inevitably be traced to him, and he would be liable
BOB BURTON 131
to arrest. No, hard though it was to bring his
mind to it, he must forego his scheme, and devise
something else.
When the agent had left the scene, Bob Burton
said : "Edward, you may go home. I mean to stay
here on guard."
"But you will not be in condition to start to-
morrow morning. You will be tired out."
"I can't take any risks this last evening, Ed-
ward."
"Then let me take your place. I will stay here."
"But it will be hard on you."
"I will lie later to-morrow morning. You can
relieve me, if you like, at four o'clock."
"Let it be so, then. Too much is at stake for us
to leave anything to chance. I don't think, how-
ever, that Wolverton would dare to renew his at-
tempt."
Meanwhile Wolverton retraced his steps to his
own house. There was one lonely place on the way,
but the agent was too much absorbed in his own
reflections to have room for fear. His occupation
of mind was rudely disturbed, when from a clump
of bushes two men sprang out, and one, seizing
him by the shoulder, said, roughly: "Your money
or your life!"
Wolverton was not a brave man, and it must be
confessed that he was startled by this sudden sum-
mons. But he wasn't in the habit of carrying money
132 BOB BURTON
with him in the evening, and an old silver watch,
which would have been dear at four dollars, was
not an article whose loss would have seriously dis-
turbed him. So it was with a tolerable degree of
composure that he answered: "You have stopped
the wrong man."
"We know who you are. You are Aaron Wol-
verton, and you are a rich man."
"That may be and may not be, but I don't carry
any money with me."
"Empty your pockets !"
Wolverton complied, but neither purse nor
pocketbook was forthcoming.
"Didn't I tell you so?" he said, shrugging his
shoulders.
"We won't take your word for it."
The first highwayman plunged his hand into the
agent's pockets, but his search only corroborated
Wolverton's statement.
"You, a rich man, go without money," he ex-
claimed, with rough contempt.
"Perhaps I might have expected such a meet-
ing," Wolverton replied, with cunning triumph.
"You must have a watch, at any rate!"
"I have one that I will sell you for four dollars."
As he spoke, he voluntarily produced the time-
worn watch, which had served him for twenty
years.
The thieves uttered an exclamation of contempt.
BOB BURTON 133
Their disappointment made them angry. They
hurriedly conferred as to the policy of keeping
Wolverton in their power till he should pay a heavy
ransom, but there were obvious difficulties in the
way of carrying out this plan.
Aaron Wolverton listened quietly to the discus-
sion which concerned him so nearly. He smiled at
times, and did not appear particularly alarmed till
one, more blood-thirsty than the other, suggested
stringing him up to the nearest tree.
"My friends," he said, for the first time betray-
ing a slight nervousness, "I can't see what ac^yan-
tage it would be for you to hang me."
"You deserve it for fooling us," replied the sec-
ond highwayman, with an oath.
"In what way?"
"By not carrying any money, or article of value."
"I grieve for your disappointment," said Wol-
verton, with much sympathy.
"If you mock us, you shall swing, anyway."
"Don't mistake me ! I have no doubt you are
very worthy fellows, only a little unfortunate.
What sum would have paid you for your disap-
pointment?"
"Fifty dollars would have been better than noth-
ing."
"That is considerable money, but I may be able
to throw it in your way."
"Now you're talking ! If you are on the square.
134 BOB BURTON
you'll find us gentlemen. We are ready to hear
what you have to say."
"Good! But I expect you to earn the money."
"How?" inquired the first gentleman, suspicious-
ly. The word earn might mean work, and that
was not in his line.
"I'll tell you."
There was an amiable conference for twenty
minutes, but this is not the place to reveal what was
said. Enough that it nearly concerned Bob Burton,
and involved a new plot against the success of his
enterprise.
BOB BURTON 135
CHAPTER XX
AN UNEXPECTED PASSENGER
The next morning the boys were up bright and
early. It was a glorious morning, and Bob accepted
it as auspicious of a pleasant and prosperous trip.
Clip was in wild spirits. He was naturally viva-
cious and fond of change, and the prospect of the
river trip made him very happy. Bob, as a practi-
cal joke, put on a grave face and said: "Clip, I
don't know but I shall have to leave you at home."
"What fo', Massa Bob?" inquired Clip, his face
assuming a look of dismay.
"I am afraid my mother won't be able to get
along without you. There are so many things to
attend to on the ranch."
"I can't do no good on the ranch," said Clip,
eagerly. "I'm only a lazy, good-for-nothing nig-
ger."
"Then I don't see how you can help me, Clip,"
returned Bob, his eyes twinkling as he listened to
this candid confession.
136 BOB BURTON
"Dat's different, Massa Bob. I ain't no good on
the ranch, but I'm powerful help on the river.
Please take me along, Massa Bob," pleaded Clip.
"Just as likely as not you'll get lost, Clip. Be-
sides, you might meet your old master from Ar-
kansas."
"He won't catch dis nigger," said Clip, shaking
his head, resolutely. "Please let me go, Massa
Bob."
"Your arguments are so cogent, Clip, that I sup-
pose I shall have to give in."
Instantly Clip's face was radiant. He didn't
know what cogent arguments were, but as long as
they had accomplished his desire he was content to
remain in ignorance.
"But if you give me any trouble, Clip," Bob
added, seriously, "I may have to put you ashore,
and let you walk home."
Clip gave the most emphatic assurance of good
conduct, and was informed that he could go.
There was much to do, even on the last morning,
and though the boys were early risers, it was fully
ten o'clock before they were ready to start.
Half an hoar before this Bob had a surprise.
Sam Wolverton was seen approaching on a run,
breathless and without a hat. He arrived at the
landing, just as Bob was putting off in the fiat-
bottomed boat, with a load of provisions for the
voyage.
BOB BURTON 137
"What on earth is the matter, Sam?" asked Bob,
in surprise.
"Let me get on the boat and I will tell you."
The boat was put back and Sam jumped on.
"Now what has happened, Sam?"
"Do you see this?" said Sam, pointing to his
right cheek, which was stained with blood.
"What has happened to you? Did you fall and
hurt yourself?"
"My uncle knocked me over and I fell against a
block of wood."
"What made him attack you?" inquired Bob,
indignantly.
"I don't know; he got mad with me for nothing
at all. He's been in an awful temper all the morn-
ing. Something must have happened to vex him."
Bob smiled. He could understand what had hap-
pened. Wolverton's disappointment at the failure
of his villainous plan had no doubt soured him,
and, like a born bully, he had vented his spite upon
the poor boy who was dependent upon him.
"I wish you'd more spunk, Sam," Bob said. "He
wouldn't dare to attack me in that way."
"You're stronger and braver than I am, Bob. I
can't be like you. I wish I could."
"Your uncle is no more nor less than a bully. He
imposes upon you because he thinks it is safe to do
so. He wouldn't dare tackle me, because he knows
it wouldn't be safe.' '
138 BOB BURTON
"Bob," said Sam, solemnly, "I've borne it as
long as I'm going to. I am not going back to my
uncle's house."
"Do you mean this, Sam?"
"Yes, I do. It's the only home I have, but I
would rather go without a home than to be beaten
and ill-treated by Uncle Aaron."
"I commend your pluck, Sam. I can't say I think
you are doing wrong."
"I have a favor to ask of you, Bob. You are my
only friend."
"What is it, Sam?"
"Let me go with you to St. Louis. It would
make me happy to be with you, and I should be out
of my uncle's way."
Bob paused for consideration, the proposal being
unexpected.
"But suppose, Sam, I am charged with abducting
you?"
"I'll take all the blame. Let me hide on the
ferryboat, and I won't show myself until you've got
miles away."
"That might do," said Bob, smiling. "Perhaps
it isn't exactly square, but with such a man as your
uncle we must make use of his own methods."
"You will take me, then?" asked Sam, eagerly.
By this time they had reached the boat.
"Clip," said Bob, "go with Sam and hide him
somewhere on the boat, but don't tell me where he
BOB BURTON 139
is concealed. Then, if old Wolverton comes after
him I can say truly that I don't know where he is."
"All right, Massa Bob," said Clip, showing his
teeth.
When the contents of the boat had been trans-
ferred to the larger craft, Bob rowed back, leaving
Clip and Sam together. The boat was roofed over,
as already stated. Besides the bins there was a cor-
ner in which some bedding had been placed for the
accommodation of the young voyagers. But it
seemed difficult to find a suitable hiding-place for
Sam.
"Where can you put me?" asked the young run-
away, with a troubled look.
Clip looked about him, rolling his eyes in per-
plexity.
At length his face brightened, for an idea had
come to him.
In one corner was an empty barrel. Some stores
had been brought aboard in it, and it had been suf-
fered to remain, with the idea that it might possibly
prove of use. The particular use to which it was to
be put certainly never occurred to Bob or Clip.
"Get in there, Sam," said Clip. "Old Massa
Wolverton won't look for you in there."
"But I shall be seen."
"You wait and I'll show you how we'll manage;
only get in."
Thus adjured, Sam got into the barrel, and with
140 BOB BURTON
some difficulty crouched so that his head was lower
than the top of the barrel.
"Now I'll show you," said Clip.
He took a white cloth — it was a piece of sail-
cloth and spread over the top of the barrel.
"Now old Mass' Wolverton will have sharp eyes
to see you," said Clip, triumphantly.
"That may do," said Sam. "But it isn't neces-
sary to put it on now. It will be time if my uncle
makes his appearance. I'll keep out of sight in the
center of the boat."
Meanwhile Bob had gone to the house to bid
good-by to his mother.
"I feel anxious about your going off on such a
long trip, Robert," said Mrs. Burton.
"You forget that I am almost a man, mother. It
is time for me to assume some responsibility."
"But you are only a boy, after all, Robert.
Think, if anything should happen to you, what
would become of me?"
"My dear mother, you may depend on my taking
excellent care of myself. I don't see what risk or
danger there can be in going to St. Louis. It isn't
a long trip. I shall be back in less than a fortnight
if all goes well."
"It will seem a very long fortnight to me,
Robert."
"I have no doubt you will miss me, mother, but
you forget I have Clip to look after me."
BOB BURTON 141
"Clip is only a poor colored boy, but I am sure
he will prove faithful to you," said Mrs. Burton,
seriously. "Even the humble are sometimes of
great service. I am glad he is going with you."
Bob did not mention that Sam Wolverton would
also be his companion, as he foresaw that the agent
would not unlikely question his mother on that
point.
Bob returned to the boat, and was just about to
cast off, when Wolverton was seen on the bank,
waving his hat and shouting frantically.
"I guess, Massa Sam, you'd better get into the
barrel," said Clip, with a grin.
142 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XXI
HOW WOLVERTON WAS FOOLED
"What do you want, Mr. Wolverton?" asked
Bob, coolly, as he stood at one end of the boat and
surveyed the excited agent.
"Come ashore, or I'll have you arrested," shout-
ed the irate Wolverton.
"You are very kind, Mr. Wolverton ; but I am in
considerable of a hurry, and have not time to com-
ply with your request."
"You'd better come ashore, if you know what's
best for yourself."
"Please state your business. If it is anything to
my advantage, I may come ; but I am just ready to
start for St. Louis."
"Is my nephew, Sam, on your boat?"
"I don't see him. Why should he be on board?"
"I suspect him of running away, the ungrateful
young rascal ! I thought he might be scheming to
go down the river with you."
"Clip," said Bob, gravely, "has Sam Wolverton
engaged passage with us?"
BOB BURTON 143
"Not as I knows on, Massa Bob."
"If he should, charge him fifteen dollars."
"Yes, Massa Bob," answered Clip, with a grin.
"If you wish your nephew to go to St. Louis on
my boat, Mr. Wolverton," said Bob, with cere-
monious politeness, "I will take him, being a friend,
for fifteen dollars, excursion ticket. You can't com-
plain of that."
"But I don't want him to go," roared Wolver-
ton. "I tell you he has run away."
"That's very strange, considering how kindly
and liberally you have always treated him."
Wolverton eyed Bob suspiciously, for he knew
well enough that the remark was ironical.
"None of your gammon, young man!" he said,
crabbedly. "Send Sam ashore."
"Really, Mr. Wolverton, you must be joking.
What have I got to do with Sam?"
"I don't believe a word you say. I mean to
search your boat."
"You had better do it at once, then, for it is time
for me to start."
"But how am I to get aboard?" asked the agent,
perplexed.
"You might swim," suggested Bob, "or wade.
The water is shallow — not higher than your neck,
anywhere."
"That is nonsense. Steer your boat to shore,
that I may board her."
144 BOB BURTON
"It can't be done, Mr. Wolverton. We can only
drift down with the current."
"Then how am I to get aboard?"
"That is your lookout."
Just then Mr. Wolverton espied the flat-bottom-
ed boat which Bob proposed to take with him. He
had attached it by a line to the stern of the ferry-
boat.
"Row over and take me across."
"I can't spare the time."
Wolverton was about to give vent to his wrath
at this refusal, when he observed a boat approach-
ing, rowed by a German boy, named Otto Brandes.
"Come here, boy, and row me out to yonder
boat," he said.
Otto paused in his rowing, and, understanding
the man with whom he was dealing, he asked,
quietly: "How much will you pay me, Mr. Wol-
verton?"
"Five cents to take me over and back," answered
the agent, with some hesitation.
Otto laughed.
"I don't work for any such wages," he said.
"I'll give you ten; but be quick about it."
"Give me a quarter and I'll do it."
"Do you think I am made of money?" said Wol-
verton, in anger. "That is an outrageous extor-
tion."
BOB BURTON 145
"All right. Then hire somebody else," said
Otto, coolly.
After a fruitless effort to beat down the price,
Wolverton sulkily agreed to the terms, and Otto
rowed to the bank.
"Now, row with all your might," said the agent,
as he seated himself in one end of the boat.
"Your fare, please," said Otto.
"I'll pay you when the trip is over," said Wol-
verton. "It's a poor paymaster that pays in ad-
vance."
"Then you'd better get out of the boat. Rail-
road and boat tickets are always paid in advance."
"I'll give you ten cents now, and the balance
when I land."
"It won't do, Mr. Wolverton. I don't care much
about the job anyway; I'm in a hurry to get home."
Otto lived about half a mile further down the
creek.
Much against his will, the agent was obliged to
deposit the passage money in the boy's hand before
he would consent to take up the oars and commence
rowing.
"That rascal Sam is putting me to all this ex-
pense," he said to himself. "I'll take my pay out
of his skin once I get hold of him."
Clip went up to the barrel in which Sam was con-
cealed.
"01' Wolverton is comin', Massa Sam," he said.
146 BOB BURTON
"Don't you make no noise, and we'll fool de ol'
man."
In spite of this assurance, poor Sam trembled in
his narrow place of concealment. He knew that
he would fare badly if his uncle got hold of him.
"How's he coming?" he asked, in a stifled voice.
"Otto Brandes is rowin' him. He's in Otto's
boat."
"It's mean of Otto!"
"No; he don't know what de ol' man is after."
It took scarcely two minutes for Wolverton to
reach the ferryboat. He mounted it with fire in
his eye.
"Now, where is Sam?" he demanded, in a per-
emptory tone.
"You can search for him, Mr. Wolverton," said
Bob, coolly. "You seem to know more about where
he is than I do." .
Wolverton began to peer here and there, looking
into bins of wheat and all sorts of improbable
places.
Clip took a broom and began to sweep energeti-
cally. Bob could not explain this sudden fit of in-
dustry till he saw Clip slyly slip the broom between
Wolverton's legs as he was hurrying along, thereby
upsetting the unfortunate agent, who tumbled,
sprawling, on the deck.
"Why, you black imp!" he exclaimed, furiously,
as he picked himself up, "what made you do that?"
BOB BURTON 147
"Couldn't help it, Massa Wolverton ! I 'clare
to gracious I couldn't!" said Clip, rolling his eyes
in a most wonderful manner. "Are you hurt,
Massa Wolverton?"
"I 'most broke my knee," growled Wolverton,
as he rose and limped toward the other end of the
boat. "I may be laid up for a week."
"It was de ol' broom did it," said Clip, inno-
cently. "Never see such a broom !"
Bob had hard work to keep a straight face, as he
heard Clip's odd accusation against the unoffending
broom.
This accident seemed to dampen Wolverton's
enthusiasm, and the pain in his knee increasing
made him desirous of getting home as soon as possi-
ble. Besides, he began to suspect that he was on a
wrong scent, as he had thus far found no trace of
his runaway nephew. He never once noticed the
barrel, over which the piece of sailcloth had been
thrown so carelessly.
"Well, did you find Sam?" asked Bob, com-
posedly.
"No!" snapped Wolverton.
"I seed him jest before you came, Massa Wol-
verton," said Clip.
"Where?" asked the agent, eagerly.
"Runnin' along the bank."
"In what direction?"
Clip pointed up the creek.
i48 BOB BURTON
"Why didn't you tell me that before?"
"You didn't ask me, Massa Wolverton."
"Take me ashore, quick!" said Wolverton to
Otto.
"Hurry up, Massa Wolverton, and mebbe you'll
catch him."
Wolverton was already in the boat, and Otto
was rowing him to the shore.
Clip went to the barrel and released the prisoner.
"De oP man's gone, Sam," he said.
"I'm glad of it, Clip. I'm almost suffocated."
"Golly! didn't we fool him?" and Clip lay down
on his back on deck, and gave way to an explosion
of mirth.
A minute later the rope was drawn in, and the
ferryboat started on its adventurous career down
the creek.
BOB BURTON 149
CHAPTER XXII
THE FIRST DAY
Bob was accustomed to rowing, but navigation
with the ferryboat presented a new and interesting
problem which he was eager to solve. A steering
apparatus had been rigged up at the stern, which
was found strong enough for the purpose required.
Bob took his place at the helm in starting, and man-
aged for the first hour to regulate the direction of
his craft. By that time they came to a place where
the creek widened considerably, and the boat show-
ed a disposition to whirl round in an eddy. This
difficulty, however, was overcome by practice, and
Bob began to acquire confidence in himself as a
navigator. But it was evident that he could not
remain at the helm all day.
"Come here, Clip," he said; "I want you to rest
me in steering."
Clip took his place, but his first attempts proved
discouraging. He was inclined to steer in just the
reverse direction, and twice came near running the
boat ashore.
1 5o BOB BURTON
"What are you about, Clip?" demanded Bob, in
excitement. "Don't you see you are running the
boat ashore?"
"I done just like you, Massa Bob," protested
Clip. "De boat acts contrary; never see such an oP
boat."
"It is you that are contrary, Clip. You don't do
as I tell you."
"I 'clar' to gracious I did, Massa Bob ! I can't
never learn to steer."
In fact, Clip, who was naturally lazy, found it
very irksome to stand at the helm, and much pre-
ferred going here and there on the boat and survey-
ing the scenery on either bank. He hoped that his
incompetence would save him from the task. But
his dream was rudely disturbed.
"If you can't take your turn in steering, Clip,"
said Bob, "you won't be of any use to me. I shall
have to send you home, and get along with Sam's
assistance."
"Oh, don't send me home, Massa Bob," ex-
claimed Clip, in alarm. "I'll try — 'deed I will."
"I'll try you a little longer, Clip," said Bob;
"but you must not blame me for sending you back,
if it is necessary."
No better argument could have been used to
insure satisfactory work from Clip, who was natu-
rally careless, and inclined to shirk work. Never-
theless., Bob felt glad that he had another assistant
BOB BURTON 151
in Sam Wolverton, who proved to possess all the
qualities which Clip lacked.
When it was one o'clock, Clip began to show
signs of distress.
"I'm pow'ful hungry, Massa Bob," he said, in a
pleading tone.
"So am I, Clip," returned Bob, with a smile. "I
will see if I can't do something to relieve you."
He had brought from home a basket of sand-
wiches and a gallon of milk. To these the boys did
ample justice, displaying even more appetite than
usual. This was not surprising, for they had
worked hard, and this in the open air.
"Sam," said Bob, "I can't hope to supply you
with all the delicacies you would get at home, but I
hope you'll make it do with our humble fare."
Sam smiled.
"All the delicacies on Uncle Aaron's table
wouldn't spoil anybody's digestion. I like my din-
ner to-day better than any I've eaten for a long
time. I don't know what uncle and aunt would say
if they could see me here."
"De ol' man would be wild," said Clip, with a
guffaw.
"I expect he would, Clip. He isn't fond of me,
but he doesn't want to lose me. He will have to do
his own chores now, for I don't believe he can get
a boy to work for him."
About six o'clock in the afternoon, having ar<
152 BOB BURTON
rived opposite a town which I will call Rushford,
Bob decided to tie up for the night. He and Clip
went on shore, leaving Sam in charge of the boat.
He did not dare to leave it unguarded, for the
cargo, according to his estimate, was worth not far
from three thousand dollars.
He took the opportunity to enter a restaurant,
where he bought Clip and himself cups of coffee,
and ordered a fresh supply of sandwiches made up,
which he arranged to have delivered at the boat
early the next morning.
"I don't mean that we shall starve, Clip," he
said.
Clip showed his teeth.
"Dat coffee's awful good, Massa Bob," he said.
"Yes, but we can't make it on board the boat. I
shall have to depend on getting it at the villages on
the way."
"How far are we from home, Massa Bob?"
"Well thought of, Clip. I will inquire."
He asked the keeper of the restaurant the dis-
tance to Carver.
"I don't know, but I think my waiter comes
from that neighborhood. Sam, how far away is
Carver?"
"Forty miles," answered Sam, promptly.
"I thought it had been more. We have been
eight hours coming on the river."
BOB BURTON 153
That was because the river — they had left the
creek fifteen miles up — was winding in its course.
On the whole, however, Bob decided that it was
very fair progress for the first day, and that only
about two-thirds of the time.
Rushford was a town of fifteen hundred inhabi-
tants, and presented as busy an appearance as a
town three times the size in the East. Clip, who
was fond of variety, was reluctant to return to the
boat, but Bob said:
"We must relieve Sam, and give him a chance to
come ashore and get some coffee. You come with
him, and show him the restaurant."
This arrangement suited Clip, who liked as much
variety and excitement as possible.
On returning to the boat Bob was somewhat sur-
prised to find his young lieutenant in conversation
with an old lady, dressed in antediluvian costume.
She had a sharp face, with an eager, birdlike look,
and seemed to be preferring a request.
"Here's thecaptain ; you can ask him," said Sam.
who seemed much relieved by the return of Bob.
"Is he captain ?" asked the old lady. "Why, he's
nothin' but a boy!"
"He's all the captain we have," answered Sam.
"Be you in charge of this boat?" asked the old
lady.
"Yes, ma'am. What can I do for you ?"
"I want to go down to St. Louis," said the old
i54 BOB BURTON
lady, "and I thought maybe you might find room
for me."
"But, ma'am, why don't you take passage in a
river steamer?"
"They charge too much," said the old lady. "I
ain't got much money, and I s'pose you wouldn't
charge me much. Are you any acquainted in St.
Louis?"
"No, ma'am."
"I thought maybe you might know my darter's
husband. He keeps a grocery store down near the
river. His name is Jeremiah Pratt, and my dar-
ter's name is Melinda Ann. I want to give 'em a
surprise."
"I never met the gentleman."
"When do you start?"
"To-morrow morning about half-past seven
o'clock."
"Can't you put it off till eight? I've got to pack
my trunk overnight, and I've got to eat a bit of
breakfast to stay my stummik. How much do you
charge? I'd be willing to pay you seventy-five
cents."
"How much do the steamboats charge?" asked
Bob.
"I think it's six dollars, or it may be seven.
That's too much for a poor woman like me."
"I think you will have to pay it, madam, for we
BOB BURTON 155
have no accommodation for passengers on our
boat."
"Oh, I ain't a mite particular. You can put me
anywhere."
"I suppose you wouldn't be willing to get into a
grain bin?"
"Oh, now you're jokin'. Where do you sleep
yourself?"
"On a mattress on the floor; that wouldn't be
suitable for a lady like you. Besides, we have no
separate rooms."
"Then you can't take me, no way?" asked the
old lady, disappointed.
"I am afraid not, madam."
"You're real disobligin'. I don't see how I am
to get to St. Louis."
"I am sorry I can't help you."
The old woman hobbled off in evident anger.
Bob heard afterward that she was a woman of
ample means, fully able to afford steamboat fare,
but so miserly that she grudged paying it.
"Now, Sam," said Bob, "Clip will show you the
way to a restaurant where you can get a hot cup of
coffee and a plate of meat, if you desire it."
While the boys were gone, Bob received a
visitor.
156 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XXIII
A SUSPICIOUS CHARACTER
Fifteen minutes after Sam and Clip had left
him Bob's attention was drawn to a man of some-
what flashy appearance, who, while leaning against
a tree on the bank, seemed to be eying him and the
boat with attention. He wore a Prince Albert coat,
which was no longer fit to appear in good society, a
damaged hat and a loud necktie. His eyes were
roving from one point to another, as if he felt a
great deal of interest in Bob or the boat. Our hero
was not favorably impressed with this man's ap-
pearance.
"I wonder what he sees that interests him so
much?" he thought.
"I say, young man, is this here boat yours?" he
asked.
"Yes," answered Bob, coldly.
"What have you got on board ?"
Bob felt under no obligation to answer, but re-
flecting that there was no good excuse for refusing,
he said, briefly: "Wheat."
BOB BURTON 157
"Humph ! How much have you got ?"
This clearly was none of the questioner's busi-
ness, and Bob replied by another question :
"Do you want to buy?"
"I don't know," said the stranger. "What do
you ask?"
"I can't say till I get to St. Louis."
"How much do you calc'late to get ?"
"Two dollars and a quarter," answered Bob,
naming a price beyond his expectations.
"Ain't that a high figger?"
"Perhaps so."
"Come, young feller, you don't seem social.
Can't you invite me aboard?"
"I don't think you would be paid for coming,"
said Bob, more and more unfavorably impressed.
"Oh, I don't mind. My time ain't valuable. I
guess I'll come."
The stranger stepped across the gang-plank,
which Bob had laid from the boat to the shore, and
entered without an invitation. Bob was tempted to
order him off, but the intruder appeared much
stronger than himself; and while he was alone it
seemed politic to submit to the disagreeable neces-
sity of entertaining his unwelcome visitor.
The latter walked from end to end of the boat,
examining for himself without asking permission,
or appearing to feel the need of any. He opened
158 BOB BURTON
the bins and counted them, while Bob looked on
uneasily.
"I say, young feller, you've got a smart lot of
wheat here."
"Yes," said Bob, briefly.
"Got a thousand bushels, I reckon?"
"Perhaps so."
uAnd you expect to get two dollars and a quarter
a bushel?"
"Perhaps I shall have to take less."
"At any rate, you must have two thousand dol-
lars' worth on board."
"You can judge for yourself."
"I say, that's a pile of money — for a boy."
"The wheat doesn't belong to me."
"Who owns it, then?"
"My mother."
"What's your mother's name?"
"I have answered all the questions I am going
to," said Bob, indignantly.
"Don't get riled, youngster. It ain't no secret,
is it?"
"I don't care about answering all the questions a
stranger chooses to put to me."
"I say, young chap, you're gettin' on your high
horse."
"What is your object in putting all these ques-
tions?"
"What is my object?"
BOB BURTON 159
"That is what I asked."
"The fact is, youngster, I've got a ranch round
here myself, and I've about five hundred bushels of
wheat I want to market. Naturally I'm interested.
See?"
Bob did not believe a word of this.
"Where is your ranch?" he asked.
"About two miles back of the town," answered
the stranger, glibly. That lie was an easy one.
"I'm thinkin' some of runnin' down to the city to
see if I can't sell my wheat in a lump to some mer-
chant. Mebbe I could strike a bargain with you to
carry me down."
Bob had even more objection to the new pas-
senger than to the old lady, and he answered,
stiffly :
"I have no accommodations for passengers."
"Oh, I can bunk anywhere — can lie on deck, on
one of the bins. I'm used to roughin' it."
"You'd better take passage by the next steamer,
This is a freight boat."
"There ain't anybody but you aboard, is there?"
"Yes; I have two companions."
The stranger seemed surprised and incredulous.
"Where are they?" he asked.
"Gone into the village."
The visitor seemed thoughtful. He supposed
the two companions were full-grown men, and this
would not tally with his plans. This illusion, how
160 BOB BURTON
ever, was soon dissipated, for Sam and Clip at this
point crossed the gang-plank and came aboard.
"Are them your two companions?" asked the
stranger, appearing relieved.
"Yes."
Sam and Clip eyed him curiously, expecting Bob
to explain who he was, but our hero was only
anxious to get rid of him.
"Then you can't accommodate me?" asked the
man.
"No, sir; but if you'll give me your name and
address, I can perhaps sell your crop for you, and
leave you to deliver it."
"Never mind, young feller. I reckon I'll go to
the city myself next week."
"Just as you like, sir."
He recrossed the plank, and when he reached the
shore took up his post again beside the tree, and
resumed his scrutiny of the boat.
"What does that man want?" asked Sam.
"I don't know. He asked me to give him pas-
sage to St. Louis."
"You might make money by carrying passen-
gers," suggested Sam.
"I wouldn't carry a man like him at any price,"
said Bob. "I haven't any faith in his honesty or
respectability, though he tells me that he owns a
ranch two miles back of the town. He came on
BOB BURTON i6t
the boat to spy out what he could steal, in my
opinion."
"How many days do you think we shall need for
the trip, Bob?" asked Sam.
"It may take us a week; but it depends on the
current, and whether we meet with any obstruc-
tions. Are you in a hurry to get back to your
uncle?"
"No," said Sam, his face wearing a troubled
look. "The fact is, Bob, I don't mean to go back
at all."
"You mean dat, Massa Sam?" asked Clip, his
eyes expanding in his excitement.
"Yes, I mean it. If I go back I shall have to
return to my uncle, and you know what kind of a
reception I shall get. He will treat me worse than
ever."
"I am sure, Sam, my mother will be willing to
let you live with us."
"I should like nothing better, but my uncle would
come and take me away."
"Would he have the right?"
"I think he would. He has always told me that
my poor father left me to his charge."
"Do you think he left any property?"
"Yes ; I feel sure he did ; for on his death-bed he
called me to him, and said : 'I leave you something,
Sam ; I wish it were more ; but, at any rate, you are
not a pauper.' "
162 BOB BURTON
"Did you ever mention this to your uncle, Sam?"
"Yes."
"What did he say?"
"It seemed to make him very angry. He said
that my father was delirious or he would never
have said such absurd things. But I know he was
in his right mind. He was never more calm and
sensible than when he told me about the property."
"I am afraid, Sam, your uncle has swindled you
out of your inheritance."
"I think so, too, but I can't prove anything, and
it won't do to say anything, for it makes him
furious."
"What does your aunt say?"
"Oh, she sides with Uncle Aaron; she always
does that."
"Then I can't say I advise you to return to
Carver, although Clip and I are sure to miss you."
" 'Deed I shall, Massa Sam," said Clip.
"I think I can pick up a living somehow in St.
Louis. I would rather black boots than go back to
Uncle Aaron."
"I am sure you can. Perhaps some gentleman
will feel an interest in you, and take you into his
service."
"I want to tell you, Bob, that Uncle Aaron hates
you, and will try to injure you. You will need to
be careful."
"That's no news, Sam. He has shown his dislike
BOB BURTON 163
for me in many ways; but I am not afraid of him,"
the boy added, proudly.
At nine o'clock the boys went to bed. They
were all tired, and all slept well. It was not till
seven o'clock that Bob awoke. His two compan-
ions were asleep. He roused them, and they pre-
pared for the second day's trip.
1 64 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XXIV
CLIP MAKES A LITTLE MONEY FOR HIMSELF
About noon the next day, while Clip was at the
helm, there was a sudden jolt that jarred the boat
from stem to stern, if I may so speak of a double-
ender ferryboat.
Bob and Sam, who had been occupied with re-
arranging some of the cargo, rushed up to the col-
ored pilot.
"What on earth is the matter, Clip?" asked Bob.
" 'Clare to gracious, I dunno, Massa Bob," as-
severated Clip.
Bob didn't need to repeat the question. Clip
had steered inshore, and the boat had run against
a tree of large size which had fallen over into the
river, extending a distance of a hundred feet into
the stream. Of course the boat came to a standstill.
"What made you do this, Clip?" said Bob,
sternly.
"Didn't do it, Massa Bob. 01' boat run into the
tree himself."
BOB BURTON 165
"That won't do, Clip. If you had steered right,
there would have been no trouble."
"I steered just as you told me to, Mass' Bob."
"No, you didn't. You should have kept the boat
at least a hundred and fifty feet from the shore."
"Didn't I, Massa Bob?" asked Clip, innocently.
"No. Don't you see we are not more than fifty
feet away now?"
"I didn't get out and measure, Massa Bob," said
Clip, with a grin.
"Now, own up, Clip, were you not looking at
something on the bank, so that you didn't notice
where you were steering?"
"Who told you, Massa Bob?" asked Clip, won-
dering.
"I know it must be so. Do you know you have
got us into trouble? How am I going to get the
boat back into the stream?"
Clip scratched his head hopelessly. The problem
was too intricate for him to solve.
"I think, Clip, I shall have to leave you over at
the next place we come to. You are more bother
than you are worth."
"Oh, don't, Massa Bob. I won't do so again.
'Deed I won't."
Bob didn't relent for some time. He felt that it
was necessary to impress Clip with the heinousness
of his conduct. At length he agreed to give him
one more chance. He had to secure the services of
1 66 BOB BURTON
two stout backwoodsmen to remove the tree, and
this occasioned a delay of at least two hours. Final-
ly the boat got started again, and for the remainder
of the day there was no trouble.
Toward the close of the afternoon they reached
a place which we will call Riverton. It was a smart
Western village of about two thousand inhabitants.
Bob and Sam went on shore to get some supper,
leaving Clip in charge.
"Now, Clip, you must keep your eyes open, and
take good care of everything while we are gone,"
said Bob.
"All right, Massa Bob."
About ten minutes after the boys went away Clip
was sitting on a barrel whistling a plantation
melody, when a slender, florid-complexioned young
man stepped aboard.
"Good evening, sir," he said, removing his hat.
"Evenin'," answered Clip, with a grin. He was
flattered by being addressed as "sir."
"Are you in charge of this boat?"
"Yes; while Massa Bob and Sam are gone
ashore."
"Are they boys like yourself?"
"Yes, sir."
"Are you three all that are on board — I mean
all that man the boat?"
"Yes, massa."
"Where are you bound?"
BOB BURTON 167
"To St. Louis."
"Do you think they would take me as passen-
ger?''
Clip shook his head.
"They won't take no passengers," he answered.
"An ol' woman wanted to go as passenger, and
another man" — Clip was unconscious of the bull —
"but Massa Bob he said no."
"Suppose I make a bargain with you," said the
man, insinuatingly.
"What you mean, massa?" asked Clip, rolling
his eyes in wonderment.
"Can't you hide me somewhere without their
knowing I am on board?"
"What for I do dat?" asked Clip.
"I'll make it worth your while."
"What's dat?"
"I'll give you five dollars."
"For my own self."
"Yes; for yourself."
"And I won't have to give it to Massa Bob?"
"No; you can spend it for yourself."
"But Massa Bob would find out to-morrer."
"If he finds out to-morrow I shan't mind."
"And you won't take back the money?"
"No; you can keep the money, at any rate."
"Where's the money?" asked Clip, cautiously.
The stranger took out a five-dollar gold piece,
and showed it to Clip. Clip had seen gold coins
1 68 BOB BURTON
before, and he understood the value of what was
offered him.
"Where can I put you?" he said.
"We'll go round the boat together, and see if we
can find a place."
The round was taken, and the stranger selected
a dark corner behind a bin of wheat.
"Will Massa Bob, as you call him, be likely to
look here?"
"No; I reckon not."
"Have you got anything to eat on board which
you can bring me by and by?"
"I'm going on shore soon as Massa Bob gets
back. I'll buy something."
"That will do."
The stranger ensconced himself in his hiding-
place, and soon after Bob and Sam returned.
"Has anybody been here, Clip?" asked Bob.
"No, Massa Bob," answered Clip, solemnly.
Poor Clip's moral convictions were rather ob-
tuse, and a lie did not impress him as seriously
wrong.
"What have you been doing while we were
away r
"Nothin', Massa Bob."
"That's what you like best to do, Clip, isn't it?"
"Dat's where you're right, Massa Bob. Yah,
yah!"
BOB BURTON i6>
"Well, you can go to supper, Clip. Here's some
money."
"All right, Massa Bob."
Clip did not seem in any great hurry to go. He
was rather afraid that Bob and Sam would explore
the boat while he was away. Finally he walked
away with slow steps, looking back from time to
time.
"What's got into Clip?" said Bob, wonderingly.
"I guess he isn't hungry," answered Sam, with a
laugh.
Ten minutes later Bob's attention was drawn to
a crowd of men and boys who were approaching
the boat. He naturally wondered what was the
object of the assemblage.
The leader called out to Bob, when he had ap-
proached sufficiently near :
"I say, boy, have you seen anything of a man
with dark hair, florid complexion, wearing a light
suit, running along the bank?"
"No, sir. Why?"
"A man of that description has stolen a sum of
money from a dry-goods store in the town. He
was seen running in this direction. We thought
you might have seen him."
"No, sir; I have seen nothing of such a man."
Bob little dreamed that the thief in question was
concealed at that moment within twentv-five feet of
where he was sitting.
170 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XXV
clip's secret mission
The man who had addressed Bob eyed him
sharply on receiving his negative answer.
"It is a pretty serious thing to connive at the
escape of a criminal," he said.
"That remark does not affect me, sir. I know
nothing of any criminal. If I had seen him I would
tell you."
Bob talked so frankly and honestly that it seem-
ed impossible to doubt his word. The leader of the
pursuing party turned to consult with a friend.
"The boy seems straightforward," he said.
"What do you think?"
"I agree with you. Still, the man was seen to
run in this direction."
The first questioner was the one most concerned
in the capture of the guilty party, for it was his
store that had been robbed.
"Have you been here all the time?" he asked,
turning once more to Bob.
BOB BURTON 171
"No, sir; my friend and I have been to the vil-
lage to get supper."
"Did you leave no one on board?"
"Yes, sir, a colored boy in my service — a boy
named Clip."
"Did he mention having seen any suspicious
party, or any man who seemed to be running
away?"
"No, sir."
"Where is he ? I would like to speak with him."
"He has gone to the village to get his supper."
If Clip had been present he would no doubt have
been questioned, but as he was absent the party of
investigation did not think it worth while to wait.
"That's rather curious, Sam," said Bob, when
they were again alone. "We were suspected of
screening a criminal."
"I wouldn't give much for the fellow's chance of
escape. They are evidently determined to catch
him."
These words were all distinctly heard by the man
in hiding.
"I was lucky to fall in with the little nigger," he
reflected. "Them boys would have refused to help
me. They would give me up now if they knew I
was on board. I must be careful."
Clip came back at the end of half an hour. If
Bob had taken notice of him, he would have no-
ticed that the boy's pockets bulged out as if crowded
172 BOB BURTON
with articles. But he had no especial reason for
suspecting Clip of any underhand proceeding, and
sat with Sam talking about home matters, leaving
his young colored servant to his own devices.
Clip was faithful to his trust. He had agreed to
take care of his concealed passenger, and he was
determined to do so.
As soon as he could do so without observation,
he went to the man's hiding-place and poured out
the contents of his pockets. There were some buns
and small rolls and a few round cakes.
"Will they do you, mister?" he asked, in a low
voice.
"Yes; but I'm terribly thirsty. Have you got
any whisky aboard?"
Clip shook his head.
"We ain't got no 'toxicating liquors," he an-
swered.
"Can you bring me a glass of water?"
"I'll try. If you'd let me tell Massa Bob you
were on board, I guess he'd give you some milk."
"Milk be — hanged ! No, I'll make it do with
water. Don't you tell this Bob, on any account,
that I am here."
"All right, massa," answered Clip; but he was
getting more and more puzzled. "Are you goin'
to stay in dat place all night?"
"Yes."
BOB BURTON 173
"You'll End it mighty uncomfor'ble. If Massa
Bob knew you was here "
"He is not to know, do you hear?" said the
other, impatiently.
"All right, massa. You know best."
"Of course I know best."
By this time Clip was missed.
"Where are you, Clip?" asked Bob.
"I'm jist loafin' around, Massa Bob," said Clip,
a little startled.
"There's something strange about you to-night,
Clip; I don't understand it."
"I'm thinkin' of old times down in Arkansaw,
Massa Bob."
"Would you like to be there now, Clip?"
"No, Massa Bob, I'd rather live with you and
your mudder. My ol' massa use' to give me plenty
of lickin's; I don't want to go back, never no
more."
Clip still continued to be restless and uneasy. He
knew he had no authority for taking a passenger on
board, and feared that Bob would take away the
five dollars if he learned that Clip had accepted so
large a sum. To' do Clip justice, he had no idea
that the man whom he had hidden was an offender
against the laws, and that the police were in search
of him. Even if he had known this, however, it is
not certain that Clip would have been prejudiced
against the offender. In truth, his prejudices were
174 BOB BURTON
against the agents of the law rather than against
those who had offended.
Bob and Sam usually retired early; but to-night,
to Clip's discontent, they remained up later than
usual, talking about matters at home.
"Isn't you ever goin' to bed, Massa Bob?" asked
Clip, at last.
"What is your hurry, Clip? Are you sleepy?"
"Awful sleepy, Massa Bob," answered Clip;
"can't hardly keep my eyes open."
"Then you can go to bed any time. Sam and I
will soon follow."
This was not altogether satisfactory, for Clip
meant to get up as soon as Bob and Sam were
asleep and visit his passenger, who had expressed a
wish to have him do so. However, there was noth-
ing to be said, and Clip withdrew to his bunk and
lay down; but, as may readily be guessed, his mind
was too active for sleep.
There was some one else who was anxious to
have Bob and Sam retire. This was the hidden
passenger, who found his quarters contracted and
uncomfortable.
"What's the matter with those confounded
boys?" he growled to himself. "They seem deter-
mined to sit up on purpose to vex me. When they
are once asleep I can get up and stretch my limbs."
In about twenty minutes the boys, judging from
their deep and regular breathing, had fallen asleep.
BOB BURTON 175
Clip, who had been waiting anxiously, raised
himself on his elbow and eyed them closely.
Feeling that it was now safe for him to do so, he
slipped out of bed cautiously and began to feel his
way toward the hiding-place of his new acquaint-
ance.
"They're asleep," he whispered. "Now, what
you want, massa?"
"It's high time they were," growled the man.
"I thought they were going to sit up all night."
"So did I," returned Clip.
"Are you sure there is no whisky on board?" •
"No, massa."
"I suppose you could get some for me on shore.
There's a saloon only three minutes' walk from
this place."
Clip was reluctant to go on shore on such an
errand; but finally the offer of fifty cents for him-
self induced him to do so. He took a tin cup which
Bob had brought with him from home, and started
on his errand.
At the saloon he was asked : "Do you want this
for yourself? We don't sell to boys."
"No, massa ; it's for a sick man."
"Where's the sick man ?"
"On board a boat."
Upon this representation the whisky was obtain-
ed, and Clip started on his return. His curiosity led
176 BOB BURTON
him to take a swallow of the whisky he was carry-
ing, but it did not commend itself to Clip's palate.
"It's nasty stuff," he said, with a grimace; "I
don't see what fo' people drink it."
He carried the drink safely to the passenger,
who drank it and smacked his lips over it. "It goes
to the right spot," he said.
"Do those boys sleep sound?" he asked.
"Yes, massa."
"Then I'll get out of this beastly hole and take a
turn on deck."
"Be keerful, massa," said Clip, anxiously.
"Oh, yes; I won't make any noise."
Clip crept back to bed and succeeded in resuming
his place without disturbing or arousing Bob or
Sam.
BOB BURTON 177
CHAPTER XXVI
WAS IT THE CAT?
Usually Bob Burton slept all night; but to-
night, unfortunately for Clip, he awakened about
two o'clock in the morning. By an equally perverse
chance, just as he awoke, the concealed passenger,
now enjoying the freedom of the deck, broke out
into a stentorian sneeze. Bob heard it, and so did
Clip, whose uneasiness made him sleep more lightly
than usual, and both were startled.
"I hope Massa Bob won't hear dat," thought
Clip.
But Bob did hear it.
"What's that?" he asked, half rising in bed.
"It's me," answered Clip, preferring to admit
the sneeze rather than have Bob suspect that there
was any one else on the boat.
"Do you mean to say you sneezed, Clip?" asked
Bob, in amazement.
"Yes, Massa Bob."
"You must be dreaming. The sneeze came from
another part of the boat."
178 BOB BURTON
"Are you sure?" asked Clip.
"Yes. What made you tell me that it was you
who sneezed?"
"I t'ought I did, Massa Bob."
"When did you wake up ?"
"Just now."
"The sneeze must have waked you up."
"I dunno," answered Clip, dubiously.
"There must be some one on board, unless we
both dreamed about the sneeze."
"Mebbe it's a cat!" remarked Clip, ingenuously.
Bob laughed. "It must be a very remarkable
cat that would sneeze like that," he said.
"Jus' so, Massa Bob," assented Clip, meekly,
hoping that Bob would drop the subject.
"I think, Clip, I shall get up and search for that
cat."
"Don't you do it, Massa Bob. He — he might
bite you."
"I hope I am not such a coward as to be afraid
of a cat."
Bob rose and lighted a candle which he had with
him. Then, followed by Clip, he advanced to the
other end of the deck. But the passenger had warn-
ing, having heard the conversation which had taken
place between Bob and Clip, and had hurriedly
retreated to his former hiding-place. It did not
occur to Bob to look there, and he returned from
his fruitless search more mystified than ever.
BOB BURTON 179
But, Clip, being close beside him, he caught the
aroma of the single swallow of whisky which Clip
had taken, and he immediately began to suspect
poor Clip of having indulged in much deeper pota-
tions than he was guilty of.
"Clip," he said, suddenly, "I smell whisky."
"Does you, Massa Bob?" asked Clip, feeling
that he was getting into a scrape.
"Yes, I do, Clip, and where do you think it
comes from?"
"Don't know, Massa Bob; 'deed I don't."
"It comes from your mouth, Clip. You've been
drinking!"
Drops of perspiration stood on Clip's forehead.
He could not excuse himself, or explain matters,
without betraying his secret. Not thinking of any-
thing to say, he said nothing.
"Tell me the truth, Clip; have you been drink-
ing?"
"I jes' took a little swaller."
"Where did you take it?"
"On sho'."
"What made you do such a thing? I didn't
dream that you were getting intemperate, Clip."
"You see, Massa Bob, a gen'leman asked me to
bring him a drink of whisky, and I t'ought I'd jest
see how it tasted."
"Who asked you to bring him some whisky?"
i8o BOB BURTON
asked Bob, who believed this to be a pure fiction on
the part of his young companion.
"A gen'leman."
"What gentleman?"
"He didn't tell me his name."
"I think you are telling me a lie, Clip."
"No, I ain't, Massa Bob; it's as true as de
Bible."
"I don't think you know much about the Bible,
Clip."
"It's all true what I told you, Massa Bob. If I
find de gen'leman, I'll bring him here to tell you."
The witness referred to smiled to himself grimly
when he heard this statement.
"That little nigger's a brick !" he said to himself.
"As to that other boy, I'd like to throw him over-
board. He's too fond of meddling with other peo-
ple's business."
It may occur to the reader that this was hardly a
fair way of stating the case. As the boat belonged
to Bob, and he was the commander, it might safely
be assumed that he had a right to inquire into any-
thing that excited his suspicion.
"Are you goin' back to bed, Massa Bob?" asked
Clip, uneasily.
"Wait a minute, Clip; I want to get a drink of
water."
Again poor Clip was in bad luck. The tin dipper
BOB BURTON 181
had been used to procure the whisky, and of course
it still smelled strongly of that liquor.
"Clip," said Bob, as soon as he had raised it to
his lips, "you got some whiskey in this cup."
"Ye — es," admitted Clip.
"And you drank it yourself instead of giving it
to any gentleman."
"No, I didn't, Massa Bob," stoutly, and as we
know truly, asserted Clip.
"I'm ashamed of you, Clip. If you are going to
act in this way, I shall have to send you home. You
have been acting very queerly this evening. Sam
and I both noticed it, but I didn't think you had
formed a taste for whisky."
"I don't love it, Massa Bob. I hate it. It's
awful nasty stuff."
"And you didn't drink this dipper full, then?"
"No, I didn't."
"What did you do with it?"
"Throwed it away, Massa Bob. I only took one
swallow. I couldn't drink it if you gave me half a
dollar; 'deed I couldn't."
"I hope this is true, Clip. I shouldn't like to tell
my mother that you had become intemperate."
"What's the matter?" was heard from Sam's bed
at this juncture. "Where are you, Bob?"
"Here I am, Sam."
"What made you get up?"
1 82 BOB BURTON
"I thought I heard a noise on deck; so Clip and I
got up."
"What was it like?"
"A sneeze. Clip thought it might be a cat."
Bob and Sam laughed at the ludicrous idea, and
Clip joined in, glad that Bob's embarrassing cross-
examination was over.
"You'd better come to bed, both of you. Very
likely you dreamed it."
At that moment, and before Bob had put out the
candle, there was a most unlooked-for corrobora-
tion of Clip's singular theory.
An immense tom-cat ran swiftly between Bob's
legs, from some place of concealment. Both he
and Clip saw it, and the latter was quick to take
advantage of the opportune appearance of the
animal.
"Dare's de cat, Massa Bob," he shouted, tri-
umphantly. "Didn't I tell you it was a cat?"
Bob was temporarily nonplussed. Clip seemed
to have the best of the argument.
"All I can say is, it is a remarkable cat," he
said. "I wish it would sneeze again."
The rest of the night passed without anything
remarkable happening. All three boys slept
soundly. Indeed, it was later than usual, prob-
ably on account of their sleep being interrupted
during the night, that they awoke.
BOB BURTON 183
According to custom, the boys took turns in go-
ing out to breakfast.
"Clip, you and Sam go out together," said Bob.
"I will take my turn afterward."
"I ain't in no hurry, Massa Bob," said Clip.
"You and Sam go first, and I will go afterward."
Bob thought this a little strange, but did not
object.
When Clip was left alone he went at once to
see his charge.
"Hope you pass de night good," said Clip,
politely.
"I'm awfully cramped up," groaned the other.
"But you're a trump, Clip. You stood by me like
a Trojan."
"Thank you, massa. I'm afraid Massa Bob'll
find you out. How long you goin' to stay?"
"Till I get a few miles from this town. Then
he may find me and welcome."
Clip felt that it would be a great relief to him
when there was no further need of concealment.
1 84 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XXVII
THE MYSTERIOUS PASSENGER IS DISCOVERED
Bob Burton started on his trip down the river
quite unaware that he carried a passenger; Clip's
peculiar nervousness attracted his attention, and he
wondered at it, but finally was led to attribute it
to whisky, of which he credited Clip with having
drunk a considerable amount. We know that he
was mistaken in this, but those who practice de-
ception are apt to be misjudged, and have no right
to complain.
One more discovery puzzled Bob. Clip hap-
pened to have a hole in the pocket in which he
carried the money given him by the mysterious pas-
senger. At first it was not large enough to im-
peril the safety of the coin; but Clip thrust his
hand so often into his pocket to see if the money
was safe that he had unconsciously enlarged the
opening. As a result of this, as he was walking
the deck, a two-dollar-and-a-half gold piece, ob-
tained in change, slipped out and fell upon the
deck. Bob happened to be close at hand, and in-
stantly espied the coin.
BOB BURTON 185;
Clip walked on without noticing his loss.
Bob stooped and picked up the coin.
"A gold piece!" he thought, in amazement.
"Where can Clip possibly have got it?"
He had not missed any of his own money. In-
deed, he knew that none of it was gold. Cer-
tainly the case looked very mysterious.
"Clip!" he said.
"What, Massa Bob?" returned Clip, innocently.
"Is this gold piece yours?"
Clip started, and, if he had been white, would
have turned pale.
"I reckon it is, Massa Bob," he answered, with
hesitation.
"Where did it come from?"
"From my pocket," he answered.
"But how did it come to get into your pocket,
Clip?"
"I put it there."
"Look here, Clip," said Bob, sternly; "you are
evading the question?"
"What's dat, Massa Bob?"
"You are trying to get rid of telling me the
truth. Did you steal this money?"
"No, I didn't," answered Clip, indignantly. "I
nebber steal."
"I am glad to hear it. Then, if you didn't steal
it, how did you get it?"
Clip scratched his kinky hair. He was puzzled.
186 BOB BURTON
"I done found it," he answered, at length.
"Where did you find it?"
"In de — de street."
"When and where?"
"Dis mornin', when I was comin' from break-
fast."
"If you found it, there would be no objection
to your keeping it," he said, "provided you could
not find the original owner."
"Can't find him nohow," answered Clip briskly.
"Come here a minute."
Clip approached, not understanding Bob's
reason for calling him.
Bob suddenly thrust his hand into Clip's pocket,
and drew out two silver dollars and a quarter, the
remains of the five-dollar gold piece, Clip having
spent a quarter.
"What is all this?" he asked, in amazement.
"Did you find this money, too?"
"Yes, Massa Bob," he answered faintly.
"Clip, I am convinced you are lying."
"No, I'm not."
"Do you mean to tell me you found all these
coins on the sidewalk?"
"Yes, Massa Bob."
"That is not very likely. Clip, I don't want to
suspect you of dishonesty, but it looks very much
as if you had been stealing."
BOB BURTON 187
uNo, I haven't, Massa Bob," asserted Clip,
stoutly.
"Do you still tell me that you found all this
money?"
Clip began to find himself involved in the in-
tricacies of his lie, and his courage gave out.
"No, Massa Bob. Don't you get mad with me,
and I'll tell you the trufe."
"Tell it, then."
"A gemman gave it to me."
"A gentleman gave you this money? What did
he give it to you for?"
"He — he wanted to go down de ribber," stam-
mered Clip.
"Wanted to go down the river? Suppose he
did?" said Bob, not yet understanding. "Why
should he give you this money?"
"He wanted me to let him go as a passenger on
de boat."
"Ha !" said Bob, a sudden light breaking in
upon him. "And you agreed to take him ?"
"Ye-es, Massa Bob."
"Where is he now?"
It was not Clip that answered this question.
There was heard a noise from the corner as of
some one moving about, and from his sheltered
place of refuge the mysterious passenger stepped
forth. He coolly took out his silk handkerchief
and dusted his coat and vest.
1 88 BOB BURTON
"Really," he said, "I can't say much for your
accommodations for passengers. Have you got
such a thing as a clothes brush on board this
craft?"
Bob stared at him in amazement, and could not
find a word to say for the space of a minute.
"Who are you, sir?" he asked, at length.
"Who am I? Well, you may call me John
Smith, for want of a better name."
"When did you come on board?"
"At the last landing. I made a bargain with
that dark-complexioned young man" — with a grin
at Clip — "who, for the sum of five dollars, agreed
to convey me to St. Louis. It wasn't a very high
price, if I had decent accommodations."
"Why didn't you tell me this, Clip?" demanded
Bob.
"I — de gemman didn't want me to," stammered
Clip.
"Quite right," corroborated the stranger. "I
told Clip he needn't mention our little arrange-
ment, as he thought you might object to it. I don't
blame him for telling you at last, for you forced
him to do so. I suppose you are the captain?"
"I am all the captain there is," answered Bob.
"I am delighted to make your acquaintance,
really. I assure you I am glad to get out of that
dusty hole, and I presume you will allow me the
freedom of the deck."
BOB BURTON 189
The stranger was so cool and self-possessed — ■
cheeky, perhaps it might be called — that Bob eyed
him in wonder.
"Why did you select my boat in preference to
a regular passenger steamer?" he asked.
"A little whim of mine I" answered the other,
airily. "The truth is, I am a newspaper reporter,
and I thought such a trip as I am making would
furnish the material for a taking article. I mean
to call it Tn the Steerage; or, a Boat Ride on the
Missouri.' Good idea, isn't it?"
"Why, yes, it might be," said Bob, drily; "but
I think the owner of the boat ought to have been
consulted."
"Accept my apologies, Captain Bob," said the
passenger, with a smile. "If there was a saloon
near I would invite you to take a drink with me,
but "
"Never mind; I don't drink. Here, Clip !"
"Well, Massa Bob?"
"You did wrong to take this man's money, and
you must return it."
At these words Clip's countenance fell.
Bob counted the money and handed it to the
stranger.
"There are twenty-five cents missing," he said.
"I will make that up from my own pocket."
"Let the boy keep the money. I don't want it
back."
190 BOB BURTON
"I cannot allow him to keep it."
Clip's face, which had brightened up at the
stranger's words, fell again.
"What is your objection?" asked the passenger.
"I may as well be frank with you. I under-
stand your reason for embarking on my boat in
preference to waiting for a river steamer — you
were in a hurry to leave the town."
"That's what I said."
"Shall I mention the reason?"
"If you like."
"Because you have been implicated in robbing
a store — perhaps several. This is stolen money."
"I deny it. I may have been suspected. In
fact, I don't mind admitting that I was, and that
I thought it my best policy to get away. The
good people were likely to give me a great deal
of trouble. Thanks to you "
"Not to me."
"To Clip, then, I managed to elude their vigi-
lance. It makes me laugh to think of their disap-
pointment."
Bob did not appear to look upon it as a joke,
however.
"Of course I shall not allow you to remain on
the boat," he said.
"I'll give you twenty-five — thirty dollars," said
the stranger, earnestly.
BOB BURTON 191
"I decline. It would be making me your ac-
complice. I would be receiving stolen money."
"What do you propose, then?"
"I will steer the boat as near the shore as I can,
and request you to land."
The stranger shrugged his shoulders.
"Very well," he said. "We must be eight or
ten miles away from my accusers. I think I can
manage for myself now."
In ten minutes the stranger stepped jauntily
ashore, and, lifting hi§ hat, bade Bob a cheerful
good-by.
i92 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XXVIII
SAM FINDS A RELATION
As my readers may feel interested in the subse-
quent adventures of the mysterious passenger, I
may state that his extraordinary coolness did not
save him. A description of his appearance had
been sent to the neighboring towns, and only a
few hours after he had left the ferryboat he was
arrested and taken back to the scene of his theft.
A trial was held immediately, and before the end
of a week he found himself an inmate of the county
jail.
On the day succeeding his departure, Bob
brought the boat to anchor at a place we will call
Sheldon.
There was no restaurant, and Bob and Sam
took supper at the Sheldon Hotel.
Clip had been sent on shore first, and the boys
felt in no hurry to return. They accordingly sat
down on a settee upon the veranda which ran along
the front of the hotel.
As they sat there, unknown to themselves, they
BOB BURTON 193
attracted the attention of a middle-aged man with
sandy hair and complexion, whose glances, how-
ever, seemed to be especially directed toward Sam.
Finally he approached the boys, and commenced
a conversation.
"Young gentlemen," he said, "you are strangers
here, I imagine?"
"Yes, sir," replied Bob.
"Are you traveling through the country?"
"We have a boat on the river, sir; but we gen-
erally tie up at night, and start fresh in the
morning."
"How far do you intend going?"
"To St. Louis."
"Pardon my curiosity, but it is not common for
two boys of your age to undertake such an enter-
prise alone. Are you in charge of the boat?"
"He is," said Sam, indicating Bob.
"And you, I suppose, are a relative of his?"
"No, sir; I help him."
"Have you come from a distance?"
"Decidedly," thought Bob, "this gentleman is
very curious."
Still there seemed to be no reason for conceal-
ment, and accordingly he mentioned the name of
the village in which Sam and himself made their
home.
Their new acquaintance appeared to take ex-
traordinary interest in this intelligence.
194 BOB BURTON
"Is there a man named Wolverton who lives in
your town?" he asked.
"Yes," answered Bob, in surprise; "Aaron Wol-
verton."
"Exactly. This young man," indicating Sam,
"has the Wolverton look."
Now it was Sam's turn to be surprised.
"I am Sam Wolverton," he said. "Do you
know my uncle?"
"I not only know him, but I knew your father, if
you are the son of John Wolverton."
"That was my father's name."
"Then I am a relative. My name is Robert
Granger, and I am a cousin of your mother."
"My mother's maiden- name was Granger," said
Sam, becoming very much interested. "Do you live
here, sir?"
"Yes; I have lived in Sheldon for the last ten
years. I came from Ohio originally. It was there
that your father met my cousin Fanny, and married
her. Do you live with your Uncle Aaron?"
"I have been living with him," answered Sam,
hesitating.
"Does that mean that you have left him?" asked
Mr. Granger, quickly.
Sam looked inquiringly at Bob. He hardly knew
whether it would be advisable for him to take this
stranger, relation though he were, into his confi-
dence.
BOB BURTON 195
Bob answered his unspoken inquiry.
"Tell him all, Sam."
"I have left my Uncle Aaron," said Sam, "with-
out his consent. I hid on board Bob's boat, and got
away."
"You have run away, then?"
"Yes, sir; you may blame me for doing so, but
you would not if you knew how meanly Uncle
Aaron has treated me !"
"I know Aaron Wolverton, and I am far from
admiring him," said Robert Granger. "But in
what way has he ill-treated you?"
"He made me work very hard, and would not
always give me enough to eat. He keeps a very
plain table."
"But why should he make you work hard?"
"He said I ought to earn my living."
"Did he say that?"
"Yes, whenever I complained. He asked me
what would have become of me if he had not given
me a home."
"The old hypocrite ! And what has he done with
your property?"
"My property!" repeated Sam, hardly believing
his ears.
"Yes. Of course you know that you have prop-
erty, and that your Uncle Aaron is your guardian ?"
"I never knew that I had a cent of money, sir.
Uncle always said that my father died very poor !'*
196 BOB BURTON
"Your father, to my knowledge, left property
to the amount of five thousand dollars."
"That is all news to me, Mr. Granger."
"And to me," added Bob. "I heard Mr. Wol-
verton tell my father the same story, that John
Wolverton died without a cent, and that he had
taken in Sam out of charity.
"He seems to have taken him in, emphatically."
"In what did the property consist?" asked Bob.
"In a house, situated in St. Louis — a small house
in the outskirts of the city — and some shares of
bank stock."
"He thought Sam would never find out anything
of it."
"I should not, if I had not met you, Mr.
Granger."
"Old Aaron Wolverton is a long-headed man;
but even long-headed men sometimes overreach
themselves, and I think he has done so in this in-
stance."
"But what can I do, sir? I am only a boy, and
if I should say anything about the matter to Uncle
Aaron he would deny it, and perhaps treat me the
worse?"
"There is one thing Aaron Wolverton is afraid
of, and that is the law. He doesn't care for the
honesty or dishonesty of a transaction, but he
doesn't mean to let the law trip him up. That is
the hold we shall have upon him."
BOB BURTON 197
"I believe you there," said Bob. "He has al-
ready tried to swindle my mother, and he is schem-
ing now to get possession of our ranch. It is partly
on that account that I started on this trip down the
river."
"Do you carry freight, then?"
"Yes, sir; I carry a thousand bushels of wheat
— rather more, in fact — intending to sell it in
St. Louis."
"Couldn't you have sent it?"
"Yes, sir; but by taking the wheat to market my-
self I shall save the heavy expense of freight, and
commission for selling."
"You seem to be a smart boy," said Robert
Granger, eying Bob with interest.
"I hope you are right," Bob answered, with a
laugh.
"My young cousin accompanies you to help, I
suppose?"
"He came on board at the last moment, having
determined to run away from Aaron Wolverton."
"I wish you could spare him; I should like to
take him home to talk over family matters with
myself and my lawyer, and we would concert some
way of forcing Aaron Wolverton to give up his
property. I have some children of my own who
would be glad to make his acquaintance."
"Would you like to accept Mr. Granger's invi*
tation, Sam?" asked Bob.
i98 BOB BURTON
"But I am afraid you will need me, Bob."
"No; I have Clip. I think it will be well for
you to stay. I will call on my way back."
So it was arranged that Sam should leave the
boat and stay over. Bob returned to the boat
alone.
The next day proved to be an eventful one.
BOB BURTON 199
CHAPTER XXIX
ROCKY CREEK LANDING
Twenty miles further down the river, at a
point called Rocky Creek, two men of questionable
appearance were walking slowly along the bank.
One of them has been already introduced as visit-
ing the boat and displaying a great deal of curiosity
about the cargo. The other, also, had the look
of one who preferred to live in any other way than
by honest industry.
"Suppose the boy doesn't touch here?" said one.
"Our plan would in that case be put out," said
his companion; "but I don't think there is any
doubt on that point. Last night he was at Sheldon,
and this would naturally be the next stopping
place."
"He is drawing near the end of his cruise. It
won't do to delay much longer."
"You are right there."
"I wasn't in favor of delaying so long. We
have risked failure."
"Don't worry, Minton. I'm managing this af-
fair. I've got just as much at stake as you."
200 BOB BURTON
"If it all comes out right, I shall be satisfied;
but I need the money I am to get for it from old
Wolverton."
"That's a trifle. I'm playing for a larger stake
than that."
"What, then?"
"The paltry fifty dollars divided between two
would not have tempted me. Do you know, Min-
ton, how large and valuable a cargo there is on
that old ferryboat?"
"No; do you?"
"Not exactly; but I know this much, that there
are at least a thousand bushels of wheat, which
will easily fetch, in St. Louis, two thousand
dollars."
"How will that benefit us?"
"You seem to be very dull, Minton. When we
have once shut up young Burton in the place ar-
ranged, you and I will take his place, drift down
the river, and dispose of the cargo, if necessary,
at a point below the market price, and retire with
a cool thousand apiece."
"You've got a head, Brown," said Minton, ad-
miringly.
"Have you just found that out?" returned
Brown, complacently.
"Do you really think there is a chance of our
succeeding?"
"Yes; of course we must be expeditious. Two
BOB BURTON 201
or three days, now, ought to carry us to St. Louis.
Then, by selling below the market price, we can
command an immediate sale. Then, of course, we
will clear out; go to California, Europe, or
Canada."
"But we must get Wolverton's money."
"If we can without risk. It won't be worth
that."
"I don't like the idea of the old man escaping
scot-free."
"He won't; you may be sure of that," said
Brown, significantly. "He has placed himself in
our power, and we will get a good deal more than
fifty dollars out of him before we get through, or
my name isn't Brown."
"What a head you've got!" repeated Minton,
with cordial admiration of the sharper rascal.
"Then there's the other affair, too," said Brown.
"We are safe to make a good round sum out of
that"
"Yes; but how can we look after the other? It
won't be safe for us to remain anywhere in this
locality if we sell the cargo."
"Leave that to me, Minton. I will get Joe
Springer to negotiate for us."
By this time the reader will have guessed that
these two men were those already referred to as
having stopped Wolverton on the night preceding
Bob's departure. The arrangement then made,
202 BOB BURTON
Brown had improved upon. He had engaged to
remove the boys from the boat and set it adrift.
But it had occurred to him, after ascertaining the
value of the cargo, to sell it for the joint benefit
of his confederate and himself. It was the most
promising job he had undertaken for a long time,
and he was sanguine of ultimate success. He had
followed the boat down the river, and had finally
selected Rocky Creek as the point most favorable
to the carrying out of his design.
Meanwhile Bob and Clip were on their way
down the river. Sam, as already described, had
left them at Sheldon, and was enjoying himself
as the guest of Capt. Granger, as he found his
kinsman was called. Bob missed him, not finding
Clip, though improved, as reliable as Sam. But
he was drawing near the end of his voyage and
was willing to make the sacrifice, since it seemed
to be so favorable to Sam's prospects. The in-
formation which had been communicated to them
touching Aaron Wolverton's breach of trust did
not, on the whole, surprise him, except by its au-
dacity; for Wolverton had thus far been careful
not to place himself within the reach of the law
and its penalties. He was delighted to think Sam
had found a new friend and protector, who would
compel the unfaithful guardian to account for his
dishonesty.
Clip heartily sympathized with Bob in his feel-
BOB BURTON 203
ing upon the subject. He liked Sam, but disliked
Wolverton as much as one of his easy, careless dis-
position was capable of doing.
"It seems lonely without Sam," said Bob, while
standing at the helm, with Clip sitting on deck
whistling just beside him.
"Dat's so, Massa Bob."
"But I am glad he has found a relation who
will help him to get his money."
"I'd like to see ol' man Wolverton when Sam
come back with Massa Granger."
"Probably you will have a chance to see him.
If he hadn't driven Sam away by his bad treat-
ment he would never have found out how he had
been cheated."
"Dat's so, Massa Bob. I'd like to be in Sam's
shoes."
"You'd have to make your feet smaller, then,
Clip."
"Yah! yah!" laughed Clip, who enjoyed a joke
at his own expense.
Bob found his work harder, now that Sam was
not on board to relieve him of part of his duty.
But they were making good speed, and there
seemed a chance of reaching St. Louis within three
days. All was going well, yet an indefinable anx-
iety troubled Bob. Why, he could not explain.
"Clip," he said, "I don't know how it is, but
I feel as if something was going to happen."
2o4 BOB BURTON
"What can happen, Massa Bob? De boat is
all right."
"True, Clip. I suppose I am foolish, but I
can't get rid of the feeling. Clip, I want you to
be very careful to-night. Don't let any mysterious
passenger come on board."
"No, Massa Bob. I won't do dat ag'in."
"We shall soon be in St. Louis, and then our
care and anxiety will be over."
"Where will we stop to-night?"
"At Rocky Creek."
It was a quarter to five when Bob reached the
place where he had decided to tie up. There was
a village of about five hundred inhabitants situated
a little distance from the riverside. A small knot
of loungers was gathered at the landing, and with
languid interest surveyed the river craft and the
young crew.
Among them Bob recognized the man who had
visited them two or three stations back. He knew
him by his dress — the Prince Albert coat, the dam-
aged hat, and the loud necktie. But apart from
these be remembered the face, dark and unshaven,
and the shifty black eyes, which naturally inspired
distrust. The man made no movement toward the
boat, but leaned indolently against a tree.
"Clip," said Bob, quietly, "look at that man
leaning against a tree."
"I see him, Massa Bob."
BOB BURTON 205
"Have you ever seen him before ?"
"Yes, Massa Bob; he came aboard de boat one
day."
"I thought I couldn't be mistaken. I wonder
how he comes to be here? Can he be follow-
ing us?"
It was too hard a problem for Clip, who only
shrugged his shoulders.
"Just then another man from the assembled
group lounged on board. It was Minton.
"Boat ahoy!" he said jauntily. "Are you the
captain?"
"I'm all the captain there is," answered Bob.
"Have you any wheat to sell? I am a grain
merchant?"
He looked more like a penniless adventurer, Bob
thought.
"I have no wheat to sell here," said Bob, coldly.
"I am on my way to St. Louis."
"Perhaps I can do as well by you as the grain
merchants in St. Louis."
"I don't care to sell here," said Bob, shortly.
"No offense, young man ! I suppose a man can
make an offer?"
"Certainly, sir."
But the stranger did not leave the boat. He
walked about, scrutinizing the arrangements care-
fully.
"You've got a pretty big cargo, boy," he said.
206 BOB BURTON
"Yes, sir."
"How many bushels now, about?"
"Why do you wish to know?" said Bob,
eying the stranger keenly.
"I thought I might like to load a boat like this
some time, and it might be of use to know how
much it would carry."
"Do you live in Rocky Creek?" asked Bob,
suddenly.
"Ye-as."
"May I ask your name?"
"Smith — James Smith," answered the other,
with hesitation.
"Very well; when I have sold my cargo I will
write you the number of bushels the boat contains."
"Thank you."
"Decidedly, the boy is sharp," said Minton to
himself. "He's no milk-and-water boy !"
He left the boat, and presently joined his friend
Brown.
BOB BURTON 207
CHAPTER XXX
AN UNLUCKY EVENING
Bob was still in the habit of getting his supper,
and breakfast the next morning, at the different
points where he landed. He left Clip on board,
in charge of the boat, while he sought a good place
to obtain a meal. He found that Rocky Creek
possessed but one hotel, and that of a very modest
character, bearing the rather imposing name of the
Metropolitan Hotel.
Fie registered his name, and intimated his de-
sire for supper.
"Supper is on the table," said the clerk.
Bob entered the dining-room, a forlorn-looking
room of small dimensions, containing a long table,
at which sat two persons, a drummer from St.
Louis, and an old man with a gray beard, who kept
the principal dry-goods store in Rocky Creek.
Bob was assigned to a place between the two.
"Good evening," said the drummer, sociably.
"Good evening," responded Bob.
"Are you a regular boarder?"
208 BOB BURTON
"Oh, no; I was never in the place before."
"How did you come?"
"By the river."
"Indeed!" said the drummer, puzzled. "Has
any steamer touched here to-day?"
"No; I came on my own boat."
"Bound down the river?"
"Yes."
"Business, I suppose?"
"Yes; I have a load of wheat which I propose
to sell in the city."
"What house shall you deal with?"
"I don't know; I'm not acquainted in St. Louis.
I shall inquire when I get there."
"Then let me recommend you to Pearson &
Edge. They will treat you liberally."
"Thank you. I will call on them and see what
I can do."
"Present my card, if you please, and say I sent
you there."
The drummer produced his card and handed it
to Bob. From this our hero learned that his com-
panion was Benjamin Baker, traveling for Dun-
ham & Co., wholesale grocers.
"Shall you stay at the hotel this evening?" asked
Baker.
"No; I shall pass the night on my boat."
"How many have you on board?"
BOB BURTON 209
"Only myself and a colored boy from home — ■
Clip."
"Isn't that a rather small crew?"
"Perhaps so; but we haven't much to do, ex-
cept to let the boat drift, keeping her straight mean-
while."
"By the way; speaking of Pearson, senior mem-
ber of the firm I have recommended, he is in great
trouble just now."
"How is that?"
"He had a very pretty little girl of about six
years old — little Maud. Two or three days since,
as I hear from a friend in the city, the little girl
mysteriously disappeared."
"Disappeared?"
"Just so. Her parents think she must have been
kidnapped, as a suspicious-looking person had been
noticed by the nurse hovering near when they were
out walking together."
"They must be in great trouble and anxiety,"
said Bob, in a tone of sympathy, "if they believe
this."
"They would be glad to believe it, for in that
case the little girl is alive, while otherwise she may
have strayed to the river and been drowned. Mr.
Pearson, who is wealthy, has offered a reward of
one thousand dollars to any one who will restore
his little girl to him."
As they sat at table, Bob noticed through the
210 BOB BURTON
window the man Minton, who had called upon him
on the arrival of the boat.
"Do you know that man, Mr. Baker?" he asked,
suddenly.
The drummer shook his head.
"I am a stranger, too," he said. "But perhaps
this gentleman, who is in business in Rocky Creek,
may be able to give you some information."
Thus appealed to, the old gentleman looked
from the window.
"It isn't any one I know," he replied. "Why do
you ask?"
"Because he called upon me on my arrival, rep-
resenting himself as a grain merchant, and pro-
posed to buy my cargo."
The old man shrugged his shoulders.
"He looks more like a tramp than a grain
merchant," he said.
"I agree with you," assented Bob, with a laugh.
"Did he mention his name?"
"He called himself James Smith; but, as he an-
swered my questions in a hesitating manner, I con-
cluded it was an assumed name."
"Very likely."
"Then he doesn't live in the village?"
"No; but he has been here for a day or two."
"I wonder what could have been his object in
representing himself to me as a grain merchant?"
said Bob, thoughtfully.
BOB BURTON 211
"Oh," answered the drummer, "he probably
wanted to strike up an acquaintance which would
justify him in borrowing a few dollars of you. I
have met plenty of such characters. They live by
what they can borrow."
When supper was over Bob and the drummer
rose together.
"Won't you have a cigar, Mr. Burton?" asked
the latter.
"No, thank you; I don't smoke."
"Oh, well, you'll learn after a while. At any
rate, sit down and keep me company for a while."
"Thank you, but I shall have to go back to the
boat and give Clip a chance to get his supper."
Clip returned from supper at half-past seven,
and Bob, feeling wide-awake, decided to go on
shore again. He did not care to go to the hotel,
but took a leisurely walk through the village and
beyond. It was an unfortunate walk, for it made
him an easy prey to the men who were scheming
against him. In a lonely place two men sprang
upon him suddenly, and before he could understand
what was going on he was gagged and helpless. In
this condition the two men, taking him between
them, hurried him to a lonely house at some dis-
tance from the road.
Bob Burton was brave, but this sudden and mys-
terious attack startled and alarmed him not a little.
212 BOB BURTON
He would have expostulated, but was unable, from
being gagged, to utter a word.
Reaching the house, a short, sharp knock at
the door was answered by a rough-looking man,
dressed in a suit of faded and shabby cloth.
"So you've got him !" was his laconic greeting.
"Yes, Joe! Now, where shall we put him?"
"Come upstairs."
The two men sat Bob down, and pushed him
forward, and up a staircase, steep and dark. He
was thrust into a room with a sloping roof, and the
gag was removed from his mouth.
"What does all this mean?" he asked, angrily
turning to the two men, whom he recognized by the
light of the lantern which Joe Springer carried in
his hand.
"It's all right, my lad," said Brown. "All
you've got to do is to keep quiet, and no harm
will come to you."
"How long do you mean to keep me here?"
asked Bob, with a feeling of despair in his heart.
He suspected now what it all meant.
"Two weeks, perhaps ; but you will be well taken
care of."
The men went out, leaving the lantern behind
them. Bob heard the bolt shot in the lock. He
looked around him. There was a low pallet in the
corner. He threw himself on it, and, brave boy
as he was, came near shedding tears.
BOB BURTON 213
CHAPTER XXXI
HOW CLIP WAS CAPTURED
Everything had gone well with Bob so far, and
he was looking forward hopefully to the end of
his journey, and the final success of the expedition.
Now all was changed. He was a prisoner, and
though Clip was on board the boat, he was utterly
incompetent to take the place of his master. Bob
hardly dared trust himself to think of the future.
He knew not what would become of his valuable
cargo, but that it was lost to him seemed probable.
This meant utter ruin, for he and his mother would
have nothing to live upon until the next harvest,
and meanwhile Aaron Wolverton would foreclose
the mortgage. Certainly, Bob had reason to shed
tears; and could not be charged with being un-
manly if for a time he gave up to a feeling of
despondency and almost despair.
Leaving him for an hour, we will accompany
the two conspirators on their return to the boat.
Clip was on deck, anxiously watching for the
return of Bob. He was beginning to feel a little
troubled.
2i4 BOB BURTON
"Can't think what's 'come of Massa Bob," he
said to himself. "He said he'd be back in fifteen
minutes. If anything's happened to him, what'll
'come of Clip?"
Instead of fifteen minutes, an hour passed, and
still Bob had not returned. Clip was seriously
thinking of going on shore and looking for him,
when two men came to the river bank.
"Hello!" they said. "Are you Clip?"
"Yes," answered Clip, in some surprise, not un-
derstanding how these two strangers could know
his name.
"You are sailing with Robert Burton?"
"Yes, massa."
"Where is he?"
"Gone on shore for a walk. Did you see him
anywhere?"
"Yes; we come from him."
"Why don't he come himself?"
"The poor fellow has met with an accident. He
has broken his leg."
"Massa Bob broken his leg!" ejaculated Clip,
turning as pale as his complexion would admit.
"How came he to do dat?"
"I can't explain," said Brown. "My friend and
I came up just after it happened, and we took him
to a house near-by, where he was put to bed. He
asked us to come for you and bring you to him."
"Yes, massa; I'll go right off," said Clip, with
BOB BURTON 215
alacrity. Then he hesitated at the thought of leav-
ing the boat. "What'll I do about de boat?" he
asked, in perplexity.
"Pooh! no one will run off with it. Probably
your friend will want to be brought on board; we
will help to bring him. Meanwhile I will stay
here and look after things, and my friend will take
you to Massa Bob, as you call him."
Clip saw no objection to this plan. He was too
simple-minded to suspect a trick, and being very
much attached to his young master, he was anxious
to be taken to him.
He put on his hat and expressed himself ready
to go.
"Very well, Minton; show him the house and
see if the boy is fit to be moved."
Clip did not see the wink that accompanied the
last words.
The two started on their journey. Clip, though
the smaller, walked so fast that Minton was
obliged to quicken his pace. He plied Minton with
questions until the latter was tired.
"I can't tell you much about it," said the man,
at length. "My friend and I saw young Burton
lying on the side of the road. He was groaning
with pain. We took him up and carried him to a
house close by."
"He won't die?" faltered Clip, in a tone of anx-
ious inquiry.
216 BOB BURTON
"Oh, no! He's as safe to live as you or I. A
broken leg doesn't amount to much."
"I don' see why he lef the boat," said Clip,
mournfully.
"Well, accidents will happen," said Minton,
philosophically.
"Do you think we can get him on de boat,
massa?"
"Oh, yes. I have no doubt of it. You needn't
feel worried. It'll all come right."
Clip, however, felt that there was sufficient
reason for feeling troubled.
He was rather surprised at the length of the
walk.
"What made Massa Bob go so far?" he asked.
"He said he was just exploring a little — wanted
to see the country, you know."
"He couldn't see much in de dark."
"Well, he will explain the matter to you; I
can't."
At length they reached the lonely house.
"This is where your friend was carried," said
Minton.
Clip thought it was a gloomy place, but his mind
was now so occupied with thoughts of Bob, whom
he was to see immediately, that he said nothing.
Minton knocked at the door.
It was opened by Joe Springer, whose appear-
ance rather frightened Clip.
BOB BURTON 217
"Oh, so you are back," said Springer. "Who
is this?"
"It's a friend of the boy with the broken leg,"
answered Minton, with a significant look.
"Ho, ho!" laughed Joe, to Clip's surprise. He
could not understand what there was to laugh at.
"I hope the poor boy's more comfortable," said
Minton.
"I reckon so," answered Joe, with another grin.
"Has he been quiet?"
"Yes, he hasn't made any noise; but he's been
walking around the room."
"Walkin' 'round wid a broken leg!" repeated
Clip, amazed.
"What a fool you are, Joe!" exclaimed Minton,
in a vexed tone. "How could he walk around
with a broken leg?"
"I only meant it for a joke," said Joe, in a half-
sullen tone. "How did I know his leg was
broken?"
"My friend, here, was not in when we brought
the boy," said Minton, in an aside to Clip. "Now,
Joe, we'll go upstairs. Clip, here, has come to
keep his friend company."
"I hope he'll like it," returned Joe, with an-
other incomprehensible grin.
"Well, get a light and show us upstairs."
Clip thought the house far from pleasant.
He had just started to go upstairs, when a little
218 BOB BURTON
girl ran crying through the door of the adjoining
room.
"I want to go home," she cried. "I want to go
to my papa."
She was followed by a tall, gaunt woman, who
seized the child in her bony grasp.
"You're a very naughty girl," she said. "Your
papa sent you to stay with me."
"No, he didn't. My papa doesn't know you."
"If you talk like that I'll give you a whipping.
I am your aunt — your father's sister."
"No, you're not. I wouldn't have such an ugly
aunt."
"Of all the perverse imps, this 'ere one is the
most cantankerous I ever see," said the woman.
"I should think you'd ought to be able to man-
age a little girl," said Joe, roughly.
"So I be. There's only one way of managin'
one like her. I've got a strap in the other room,
and she'll feel it if she keeps on."
Clip followed Minton up the steep, narrow stair-
case, and the two paused before the door of the
chamber occupied by Bob Burton.
"He is in here," said Minton, briefly.
He opened the door, and by the faint light of
the lantern Clip recognized the figure of a boy
stretched out on a pallet in the corner.
Bob looked up, and when he saw Clip he sprang
to his feet.
BOB BURTON 219
"You here, Clip?" he asked.
"Yes, Massa Bob. Which of your legs is
broke?"
"My legs broke? Neither."
"The man told me you broke you' leg," said
Clip, bewildered.
He turned to appeal to Minton for a confirma-
tion of his words, but the door was shut, and his
conductor was already on the way downstairs.
220 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XXXII
THE BOYS IMPRISONED
"Now sit down and tell me all about it, Clip,"
said Bob. "So you were told my leg was broke?
Who told you?"
"De two men."
"I think I know the two men. One of them
brought you here. Where is the other?"
"He stayed on boardthe boat till we come back."
"Was there anything said about our going
back?" asked Bob, in surprise.
"Yes, Massa Bob. Dey said you' leg was broke,
and you wanted me to come to you. De man said
we would take you back with us."
"Clip," said Bob, sadly, "these men deceived
you. We are in a trap."
"What's dat?"
"They have made us prisoners, and I don't dare
to think what they will do next."
"Dey won't 'sassinate us?" asked Clip, who had
picked up the word somewhere.
"No; but I'll tell you what I think they'll do.
BOB BURTON 221
They will take the boat down the river, sell the
grain in St. Louis, and run oft with the money."
This was the conclusion to which Bob was led
by Clip's story.
"We won't let 'em, Massa Bob," said Clip, in
excitement.
"How shall we help it, Clip?"
"We must get out, and runaway."
"I wish I knew how," said Bob.
"If we can get out, we'll take a boat to the city,
and git there ahead of 'em."
Somehow, Clip's words seemed to reassure Bob.
Misery loves company, and the presence of his
trusty friend and servant perceptibly lightened
Bob's spirits.
"You are right, Clip," he said. "To-morrow
we will see what we can do. We can't do anything
to-night."
"Who is de little girl, Massa Bob?" asked Clip,
suddenly.
"What little girl?"
"Haven't you seen her? De little girl down-
stairs."
"I haven't seen her. Tell me about her."
Clip described her as well as he could, and suc-
ceeded in conveying to Bob a general idea of her
appearance, and that of the woman who had charge
of her.
Bob listened thoughtfully.
222 BOB BURTON
"You don't think the little girl was any relation
to the woman, Clip?" he said.
"No, Massa Bob; no more'n you is relation to
me. De girl was a little lady, and de woman was
awful ugly."
"Did the little girl say anything in your
hearing?"
"She asked to be taken back to her fader?"
Suddenly there came into Bob's mind the story
about a little girl abducted from St. Louis.
"Clip," he said, "I think that little girl has been
stolen from her home. I think she is the same one
we heard about the other day."
"I pity de poor girl. De ol' woman shook her,
and treated her bad."
"If we could only run away from this place, and
take the little girl with us, it would be a capital
idea. I would like to get her away from these
*vretches."
"I'm wid you, Massa Bob," said Clip, en-
thusiastically.
"Hush !" said Bob, suddenly raising his finger.
A little girl's voice was heard, and it was easy
to judge that she was ascending the stairs.
Bob put his ear to the keyhole.
"Take me home to my papa," said the poor
child. "I don't want to stay here."
"I'll whip you," said a harsh voice, "if you are
BOB BURTON 22^
not good. It's time girls were a-bed. I'm going
to put you to bed, and you can sleep till morning."
"I don't want to go to bed."
There was a little scream, for the woman had
slapped her.
"I'd like to get at that woman, Clip," said Bob,
indignantly.
They heard the door open — the door of the
room adjoining.
The partition was very thin, and it was easy to
hear what was going on. Not only this, but Clip
discovered an auger hole about eighteen inches
above the floor, of sufficient size to enable him to
look through it.
"Who was that black boy?" he heard the little
girl say. "He's a funny-looking boy."
"He's come to stay here with the other boy,"
answered the woman, glad to find something of
interest to take the place of the complaints.
"Where are they?" asked the girl.
"They are sleeping in the next room, so you
need not be afraid if I go down and leave you."
"May I play with them to-morrow ?"
"Yes, if you will be a good girl," said the
woman, willing to promise anything.
Then there was a little pause, spent in undress-
ing the child.
"Now get into bed, and go to sleep as soon as
you can."
224 BOB BURTON
"Will you take me to my papa to-morrow?"
"No," answered the woman, shortly. "Your
papa wants you to stay with me."
"Won't I ever see my papa again?" asked the
child, almost ready to cry.
"Yes; perhaps he will come to see you next
week," answered the woman, fearing that the child
might sob and compel her to remain upstairs.
"Clip," said Bob, who had taken Clip's place
at the hole in the partition, "there's no doubt of
it. The girl has been stolen. I wish I could go
into the room, and ask her about her father and
her home."
He went to the door and tried it, but it was
firmly locked, and it was quite useless to try to
get out.
Meanwhile Joe and his wife were conversing
downstairs.
"Joe," said the woman, "I hope I'll get rid of
that brat soon. She's a heap of trouble."
"We shall be well paid," said Joe.
"Who's to pay us?" asked the woman.
"Brown. He's the man that's got charge of
the job. She's got a rich father, who'll shell out
liberal to get her back."
"Did he pay you anything in advance?"
"I squeezed five dollars out of him."
"Where is it, Joe?"
BOB BURTON 225
"Don't you wish you knew, old woman?" said
Joe, with a grin. "I can take care of it."
"Half of it belongs to me."
"How do you make that out?"
"Haven't I the care of the child? It don't
trouble you."
"It's all right, old lady. You won't be for-
gotten."
"How much more is Brown to pay you?" asked
the woman, appearing dissatisfied.
"Forty-five dollars."
The woman's eyes sparkled. To her this seemed
a vast sum of money.
"And how much am I to have?"
"What do you want money for?" demanded
Joe, impatiently.
"I do want it, and that's enough."
"Well, I can't say yet, old lady, but maybe you'll
get ten dollars."
"Altogether?"
"Of course. Ain't that enough?"
"No, it isn't. We ought to divide even."
"Pooh! You're a woman; you don't need
money?"
An unpleasant look came over the woman's face,
but she said nothing.
"Come, old woman; I've got something that'll
put you in good humor. See here !"
226 BOB BURTON
Joe produced from an out-of-the-way corner a
suspicious-looking jug.
"Do you know what's in this?"
"What is it?" asked the woman, looking in-
terested.
"Whisky. Get some boiling water, and I'll
make you some punch. We'll make a night of it."
His wife brightened up. Evidently she did not
belong to a temperance society, any more than her
husband. She moved about the room with alacrity,
and, assisted by her husband, brewed a punch that
was of considerable strength. Then they put it
on the table and set about enjoying themselves.
"Here's your health, ol' woman!" said Joe, and
he tried to sing a stave of an old drinking song.
Together they caroused until a late hour, and
then fell into a drunken sleep, which lasted till a
late hour in the morning.
About seven o'clock the little girl woke up, and
as is usual with children, wished to be dressed at
once.
"Aunt," Bob heard her say, "I want to be
dressed."
But no one came at her call.
After a little waiting, she got out of bed and
went downstairs, but returned in a minute or two,
crying.
Bob called through the partition:
"What's the matter, little girl?"
BOB BURTON 227
"There's nobody to dress me. Are you the boy
that came yesterday?"
"Yes. Where is the woman that put you to
bed?"
"She's downstairs — she and the man. They're
lying on the floor. I can't wake them up."
An idea came to Bob.
"Come to our door, little girl, and see if you
can draw back the bolt. We are fastened in."
"Will you take me to my papa?"
"Yes; I will try to."
The child came to the door, and, following Bob's
directions, with some difficulty slipped back the
bolt.
"Clip," said Bob, in a tone of triumph, "we're
free. Now, do as I tell you, and we'll get awayv
and reach St. Louis ahead of the boat."
228 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XXXIII
A LUCKY ESCAPE
"Now," said Bob to the little girl, as they de-
scended the steep and narrow staircase, "will you
do as I tell you?"
"Yes," answered the child, placing her hand
confidingly in his.
"Then make as little noise as possible. We don't
want them to wake up. If they do, they will pre-
vent your going away."
"Will you take me back to my papa, certain
sure?"
"Yes."
"Oh, I am so glad!"
"Clip," said Bob, warningly, "mind you remain
perfectly quiet. We must go through the room
where the man and woman are sleeping. Any
little noise might wake them up."
"Don't be afeared for me, Massa Bob," said
•Clip.
The staircase led into the main room below, so
BOB BURTON 229
that, as Bob said, it was necessary to pass
through it.
Entering the room on tiptoe, they witnessed a
reassuring but disgusting spectacle. Joe Springer
was stretched out on the floor on his back, breath-
ing heavily; while his wife, seated in a chair, rested
her head on the kitchen table. She, too, seemed
to be in a drunken stupor.
The girl regarded the woman nervously, re-
membering the harsh treatment she had received
from her.
There was one more ordeal and one more danger
to run. The outer door was locked, but the key
was in the lock. There was a creaking sound as
Bob turned it. But he opened the door success-
fully, and once more they breathed freely in the
clear air of morning. As the door opened they
heard a muttered sound from Joe Springer. It
sounded like "more whisky!" He was probably
dreaming of his potations of the previous night.
Bob hurried along his two companions until they
had reached a point some half a mile distant from
the place of their imprisonment. Then he thought
it best to question the little girl.
"What is your name?" he asked, gently.
"Don't you know my name?" asked the child,
in surprise. "My name is Maud."
"What is your other name?"
"Pearson — my name is Maud Lillian Pearson."'
230 BOB BURTON
"Just as I thought, Clip," said Bob, tri-
umphantly. "This is the little girl that was stolen
from her parents in St. Louis."
"Yes ; my papa lives in St. Louis. Will you take
me to him?"
"Yes, Maud. Only be a good girl and do as I
tell you."
"And you won't let that ugly woman take me
away?"
"No; we will hide you away from her. Did
she treat you badly?"
"Yes; she shook me and said she would whip
me. She said she was my aunt; but it isn't true."
"Who brought you to her?"
Maud thereupon described the man whom we
know as Brown, the abler one of the confederates
who had stolen the ferryboat.
"I wonder whether our boat is gone?" said Bob.
"Mebbe we can see from the hill," suggested
Clip.
There was a small elevation near-by. Bob
ascended it, and looked toward the point where
his boat had been tied up. There was no sign of
it. It had disappeared. Though still early,
Brown and Minton, fearing interference, had cut
loose about four o'clock, and were by this time
several miles on their way to the great city.
"It's gone, Clip," said Bob, sadly.
BOB BURTON 231
"Never mind, Massa Bob; we'll catch 'em," an-
swered Clip, energetically.
"Yes, if there is any boat starts down the river
to-day."
This, however, was something which he was not
sure of. Moreover, he felt that the sooner he got
away from Joe Springer and his estimable wife
the better. But where could he take refuge ? Not
at the hotel, for Springer would find him out and
reclaim the little girl. While he was considering,
in his perplexity, what course to pursue, he fell in
with two boys, who appeared to be about fifteen
years of age. They regarded Bob and his party
with curiosity.
Bob eyed the boys closely, and decided that they
could be depended upon. They seemed to be just
the friends he was in search of. He introduced
himself, and learned that their names were John
Sheehan and Edward Bovee.
"Can you tell me, boys, when the next steamer
will start for St. Louis ?"
"Yes," answered John; "there is one at seven
o'clock to-morrow morning."
"That is the earliest?"
"Yes," said John. ,
"Do you know of any private house where we
can stay till that time ? I am willing to pay a fair
price."
"You can come to our house," said Edward Bo-
232 BOB BURTON
vee. "I am sure my mother will take you in. But
you won't get as good meals as at the hotel."
"I don't mind that. I shall be glad to stay at
your house. Could we go there to breakfast?"
"Yes; follow me, and I will lead the way."
Edward Bovee led the way to a neat cottage,
where his mother, a pleasant-looking lady, wel-
comed them, and readily undertook to keep them
until the boat started for St. Louis. Bob, feeling
the necessity of concealment, took Mrs. Bovee into
his confidence, and readily secured the co-operation
of the good lady, who took a motherly interest in
little Maud.
Now that the children have found a safe re-
treat, we will return to Joe Springer and his inter-
esting wife.
About half an hour after their young prisoners
had escaped Mrs. Springer raised her head from
the table, and looked about her in a bewildered
way. The bright sunshine entering at the window
revealed to her that she had spent the night in a
drunken stupor, even if Joe's prostrate form had
not been a visible reminder. She went to her hus-
band and shook him roughly.
"Get up, Joe! It's morning!"
He opened his eyes and looked around him with
stupefaction.
"What's up, old woman?" he asked.
BOB BURTON 233-
"I am, and you ought to be," she answered,
sharply.
"Where's the whisky?"
"You've had enough. Now get up and hustle
round, if you want some breakfast. I'll go up
and dress the little girl."
Mrs. Springer went upstairs, but came down
again, two steps at a time, in a state of high ex-
citement.
"Joe," said she, quickly, "the little gal's gone!"
"What?"
"The little gal's gone ! Run out and see if youi
can't catch her. If we lose her, we lose fifty
dollars."
"Are the boys all right?"
"Yes, the door is bolted. They couldn't get
out."
This was true. Bob had taken the precaution
to lock the door after leaving the room. For this
reason, it was half an hour later before Joe dis-
covered that all his prisoners had escaped. Then,
as might have been expected, there was a wild
scene of recrimination, ending in a fight, in which
Mrs. Springer did her part, for she was by no
means a weak or delicate lady, but a woman with-
out fear, who believed in the right of self-defense.
The worthy pair instituted a search through the
village, but failed to discover any trace of the lost
children. The next morning, however, Joe:
234 BOB BURTON
Springer got up unusually early, for him, and
strolled to the steamboat landing. The boat was
already out in the stream, when on the deck he dis-
covered Maud and the two boys.
"Stop the boat!" screamed Joe, in excitement.
"What's the matter?" asked the man beside him.
"Those three children. They have run away."
"From you?"
"Yes; from my house."
"Why, man, you must be drunk! You have no
children."
"I had charge of 'em, particularly the little gal.
Stop the boat, I say!"
"Has the man any claim on you ?" asked the cap-
tain, who happened to be standing near Bob.
"Not the slightest," answered Bob.
"Or the little girl?"
"No; her father lives in St. Louis, and I am tak-
ing her to him."
"Stop the boat!" screamed Joe, frantically.
"He's drunk," said Joe's neighbor. "He does
not know what he is talking about."
This settled the matter as far as the captain
was concerned. Bob paid the full passage money
for the party, and they were enrolled as regular
passengers.
Toward the middle of the afternoon a surprise
awaited them. They saw, not far ahead, their
BOB BURTON 235
own boat, which was drifting down the river, with
Brown at the helm.
"Do you see that, Clip?" asked Bob.
"Yes, Massa Bob."
"Quick, hide ! Don't let them see us. I have no-
objection to their working their passage down to
the city. When they get there, we will be on hand
to take possession."
"Dat's a good joke! Won't they be s'prised,
dough?" said Clip, showing his white teeth.
So the steamboat swept by, carrying the three
children past the two conspirators, who fancied
them safely housed in Joe Springer's house up the.
river.
236 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XXXIV
MR. WOLVERTON' S LETTER
While the boys are meeting with adventures
on their way down the river, we will return to the
town of Carver, in which, as will be remembered,
the Burton Ranch was located.
There was no one more interested in the pro-
gress of the expedition than Aaron Wolverton. It
was against his wishes and interests that Rob should
succeed in carrying out his plans. He wanted to
get possession of the Burton Ranch, and force Mrs.
Burton to take him for her second husband. Most
of all, perhaps, he wanted to humble the pride of
"the Burton boy," as he styled Bob, for he cor-
dially hated him, and was well aware that Bob
disliked and despised him. If he could only bring
about the failure of Bob's trip, and the loss of his
cargo, he would have both Bob and his mother in
his power.
Wolverton had been anxiously awaiting intelli-
gence from his agents, and the postmaster was
BOB BURTON 237
somewhat surprised at his numerous visits to the
office for letters.
At length, one morning Aaron Wolverton's pa-
tience was rewarded.
. A letter was handed him, directed in an almost
illegible scrawl to
Mr. A. Wolverton, Esq.
It was written by Brown, who was by no means.
an accomplished scholar.
Wolverton opened it eagerly, and read the fol-
lowing lines :
"Mr. Wolverton: I write you these few lines
from Rocky Creek. I am pleased to say we have
got the bote, and are jest starting for St. Louis.
with the cargo on bord. If you want to know
about the boys, bob burton and the little nigger
are locked up in a house in the village belonging
to one of my friends, and they won't be let out
till it is perfectly saif. We got hold of them by
a nise trick. I haven't time to tell you about it
now, but when we meat, you shall kno all.
"Send that fifty dollars to Mr. J. Brown, St.
Louis Post Office. Don't forget ! This is im-
portant.
"Yours to command,
"J. Brown."
238 BOB BURTON
This letter, ill-spelled as it was, seemed to give
Aaron Wolverton unbounded satisfaction. A
gratified smile overspread his face, and he said to
himself: "That will bring down the Burton pride.
That young whipper-snapper will come home with
a few less airs than when he set out. The chances
are that he'll have to walk home or buy passage."
Wolverton chuckled at this agreeable thought.
He would be revenged upon poor Bob for all the
mortifications to which the boy had subjected him;
and, to a man of Wolverton's temperament, re-
venge was sweet.
"You have received good news, Mr. Wolver-
ton," said the postmaster, observing the land
agent's evident glee.
"What makes you think so?" asked Wolverton,
cautiously.
"I judged from your smiling face."
"It wasn't the letter. I was thinking of some-
thing."
"That is only a blind," thought the postmaster.
"I saw his face light up when he read the letter.
Let me see; it was mailed from Rocky Creek. I
will bear that in mind, and some day I may discover
the secret."
As Wolverton picked his way through the mud
from the postoffice to his office, he fell in with
Mrs. Burton, who had come to the village on busi-
BOB BURTON 239
ness. He smiled to himself, and prepared to ac-
cost her.
"I hope I see you well, Mrs. Burton," he said,
with gravity.
"Very well, thank you, Mr. Wolverton," an-
swered the widow, coldly.
"What do you hear from your son?"
"I received a letter yesterday. All was going
well with him."
"I am really glad to hear it," said Wolverton,
with a queer smile. "Still, you must remember
that 'there's many a slip 'twixt the cup and the
lip.' "
"What do you mean, Mr. Wolverton?" asked
Mrs. Burton, quickly.
"What should I mean?" said Wolverton, in ap-
parent surprise.
"Have you heard any bad news of Robert?"
"Oh, dear, no! I am sorry to say that you,
son is prejudiced against me, and would hardly
favor me with any letter."
Mrs. Burton looked relieved.
"I was only warning you on general principles.
'Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest
he fall,' as the Scriptures have it."
"Thank you for the caution," said Mrs. Burton,
drily.
"By the way, have you heard anything of your
nephew, Sam?"
24o BOB BURTON
Wolverton's face darkened.
"No," he answered. "I did think, I confess,
that he might have run away with Bob, but I don't
think so now."
"If he did, I know nothing of it."
This was true. For obvious reasons, Bob had
not taken his mother into his confidence on this
subject.
"The boy has shown base ingratitude to me,"
continued Wolverton, bitterly. "I cared for him
and kept him from starving, and how has he re-
warded me?"
"If his home was so agreeable as you represent,
it is certainly surprising that he should have left
you. Good-morning, Mr. Wolverton."
"What did she mean?" Wolverton asked him-
self. "Some of her sarcasm, I suppose. When
she becomes Mrs. Wolverton I will get even with
her."
As nothing had been said of Sam in the letter
of his confidential agent, Wolverton no longer sus-
pected that he had gone down the river with Bob
Burton. On the whole, as he had Sam's property
in his possession, he did not care whether the boy
ever returned, except that he would have liked to
give him a good flogging.
BOB BURTON 241
CHAPTER XXXV
BOB'S ARRIVAL IN ST. LOUIS
Meanwhile Bob and Clip were steaming rap-
idly down the river. Now that he was pretty sure
of recovering his boat and cargo, Bob gave himself
up to the enjoyment of the trip, and was fain to
confess that he enjoyed it better than working his
passage on the ferryboat. As for Maud, she
seemed to feel as much confidence in our hero as
if she had known him all her life. She seemed
also to appreciate Clip, but in a different way.
"You're a funny boy!" she said.
"Yah, yah, little missy!" laughed Clip.
"Where's your mother?"
"Dunno, missy. I expect she's dead."
"My mamma's dead, too. She's in heaven. Is
your mamma there, too?"
"S'pect so, little missy."
Bob questioned the little girl as to the manner
of her abduction. He learned that she had been
carried off from the street in which she lived by
Brown, who secured her consent by a promise of
242 BOB BURTON
candy. Then she was put into a carriage, and given
something to drink. When she woke up she was
on a river steamer, being landed at length at the
place where Bob found her.
"Did my papa send you for me?'* she asked.
"No, Maud," answered Bob; "but 1 heard you
had been stolen, and I determined to carry you
back, if I could."
"On what street does your father live?" asked
Bob, later.
"On Laclede Avenue."
"Can you tell me the number?"
This also Maud was able to tell. At the first
stopping place, after he had obtained this informa-
tion, Bob, appreciating the anxiety of Maud's
friends, telegraphed her father as follows:
"I have discovered your little daughter, and am
on my way to the city with her. She was taken to
Rocky Creek, and confined there. Our steamer —
the Gazelle — will probably arrive at her wharf to-
morrow morning. "Robert Burton."
When this telegram was received, Mr. Pearson
was suffering deep grief and anxiety; but the mes-
sage comforted him not a little.
When the steamer reached the pier, a middle-
aged man of medium size and dark complexion was
waiting on the wharf.
BOB BURTON 243
"That's my papa," exclaimed Maud, clapping
her hands ; and the little girl danced on the deck in
her joy.
In a moment she was in the arms of her father.
"My darling Maud!" he exclaimed, caressing
her fondly. "Thank Heaven I have you back
again! Where is Mr. Burton?"
"My name is Robert Burton," said Bob, mod-
estly.
"What, a boy!" exclaimed Mr. Pearson, in
amazement. "I supposed the person who tele-
graphed me was a man."
"He's a nice boy," said Maud, putting her hand
confidingly in Bob's.
"I am sure of it," said Mr. Pearson, cordially,
grasping the hand of our hero.
"And he's a funny boy," continued Maud, point-
ing out Clip.
"Yah, yah I" laughed Clip, with a broad grin on
his shining face.
"Clip is a companion of mine," explained Bob;
"and we came down the river together."
"I am glad to make your acquaintance, Mr.
Clip," said Mr. Pearson, smiling, and taking Clip
by the hand.
"Yah, yah !" laughed the delighted Clip.
"Now, boys," said Mr. Pearson, as they passed
over the gang-plank and set foot upon the wharf,
"I shall take you both home with me. I have not
244 BOB BURTON
yet had an opportunity of asking questions about
how you came to find my dear child, and rescue her
from her terrible captivity. There stands my car-
riage. Get in, both of you, and we will go to my
home at once."
It was a strange sensation to Clip to find himself
riding in a handsome carriage, the favored guest
of the wealthy proprietor. He was not sure whether
he were awake or dreaming.
They drove rapidly for perhaps a couple of
miles, and then stopped in front of an elegant man-
sion in the upper part of Laclede Avenue. The
two boys never expected to enter St. Louis in such
grand style.
BOB BURTON 245
CHAPTER XXXVI
A THOUSAND DOLLARS REWARD
A LITTLE awed by the splendid appointments of
the merchant's house, Bob and Clip entered, fol-
lowing Mr. Pearson.
A stout, pleasant-looking woman of middle age
■ — the housekeeper — appeared at the door of a side
room. She darted forward, and clasped Maud in
a fond embrace.
"My darling Maud, how glad I am to see you
back!" she said. "I thought we had lost you."
"This is the young man who rescued Maud,
Margaret," said Mr. Pearson, pointing to Bob.
"And he so young! I must kiss him, too!" said
Margaret; and, considerably to our hero's embar-
rassment, Margaret gave him a resounding kiss.
"This boy also assisted," said Mr. Pearson, indi-
cating Clip, with a smile.
Margaret hesitated a moment — she was not
quite prepared to kiss a colored boy — but compro-
mised by shaking his hand cordially.
246 BOB BURTON
"You look like a nice boy, Clip," she said.
"So I is, missus; yah, yah!" responded Clip,
laughing.
''Now, Margaret, can you give us something to
eat ?" said Mr. Pearson.
"It's all ready, sir. I thought you and Miss
Maud would be hungry."
'I suspect we are all hungry," said Mr. Pearson,
leading the way into a handsome dining-room.
"JNow, boys, take your seats," he said.
Clip felt a little awkward, for he was not used to
being a guest at a rich man's table, but he did not
allow his bashfulness to interfere with the gratifica-
tion of an excellent appetite.
When the meal was over, Mr. Pearson invited
the boys into his library, and seated himself at a
desk.
He drew a check-book from a drawer and wrote
for a minute. Then he tore off a check and handed
it to Bob.
"This is the reward I offered for the return of
my dear daughter," he said. "I have made the
check payable to your order."
Bob took it and read as follows :
"First National Bank,
"Pay to the order of Robert Burton,
"One Thousand Dollars.
"$i,ooo. John Pearson."
BOB BURTON 247
"I don't like to take this large sum, Mr. Pear-
son," said Bob. "I did not rescue your daughter
for money."
"I am quite aware of that, my boy, but it is a
pleasure for me to give you this proof of my grati-
tude. I am sure you will spend it creditably."
"I shall find it very useful, sir; and I thank you
sincerely. May I ask if you do not deal in wheat ?"
"That is a part of my business."
"I shall have about fourteen hundred bushels to
dispose of if I recover my boat."
"I will give you two dollars and a quarter a
bushel, if it is in good condition."
"I accept, sir," answered Bob, promptly. "Now,
may I ask your advice as to how to proceed to re-
gain possession of the boat?"
"When do you expect it to arrive?" asked the
merchant.
"Probably not till to-morrow, but I can't guess
at what part of the day. It depends on how well
the thieves succeeded in managing the boat."
"I will order my carriage and drive round with
you to the Central Police Office. The police will
take proper measures to recover the boat and arrest
the rascals who robbed you of it."
"Won't it be too much trouble, sir?"
"I shall not count it a trouble, for I shall at the
same time be punishing the men who abducted my
dear Maud. They will be tried for both offenses,
248 BOB BURTON
and will probably get a long term of imprison-
ment."
In an hour information had been lodged at the
Central Police Office, and orders had been given to
watch the river, and to keep a good lookout for the
boat, of which Bob furnished a description.
That night Bob and Clip slept at Mr. Pearson's
house, being treated as honored guests.
BOB BURTON 249
CHAPTER XXXVII
BROWN AND MINTON WALK INTO A TRAP
Little suspecting the reception awaiting them
in St. Louis, Minton and Brown were laboriously
guiding their stolen craft down the river. Not
being accustomed to labor of any sort, they found
the confinement irksome, but the prize for which
they were striving was so large that they took it
very good-humoredly. They whiled away the time
by indulging in visions of future ease and pros-
perity, and in exchanging witticisms at the expense
of Bob, the youthful owner of the boat.
"I wonder how the young captain is enjoying
himself?" said Minton, as he lay back, with one of
the bins for a support, while puffing at a cigar.
"He is ready to tear his hair out, I presume,"
said Brown. "He's a conceited young popinjay,
and deserves to have his pride taken down."
"You're right there, Brown. We shall make a
tidy sum out of our venture."
"Yes; we can afford to retire for a time. Of
course, I shall want more than half."
"I don't see that," said Minton, quickly.
250 BOB BURTON
"Why, man, I've done all the headwork. What
have you done to compare with me?"
"We are equal partners," said Minton, dog-
gedly.
"That is where you are mistaken. I don't mind,
though, giving you half of what we get for the
girl."
"How shall we arrange to get anything? It is
rather a ticklish business "
"That's where the headwork comes in. I shall
wait upon old Pearson, and tell him that I have a
clew, and suspect I know who abducted the child.
Then I'll work him up to a point where he'll shell
out liberally."
"Won't there be risk?"
"How can there be ? Leave the thing to me and
I'll arrange it. The fact is, Minton, you are a man
of no ideas. If I depended on you, you wouldn't
make a cent out of one of the neatest jobs I've ever
been concerned in."
Minton was conscious that there was some truth
in this, and it helped to reconcile him to the evident
determination of his companion to appropriate the
lion's share of the fruits of their questionable enter-
prises.
"I suppose Joe's all right?" he said, after a
pause.
"Of course he is. What would he make by prov-
ing false to us?"
BOB BURTON 251
"Nothing, that I can see. Still, if he should do
so, it might upset our plans. The boy could afford
to pay him well for releasing him."
"That is true," returned Brown, thoughtfully.
"On all accounts it will be necessary for us to expe-
dite matters. I shan't waste any time once we are
in St. Louis."
"You mean in disposing of the cargo?"
"Precisely. I am in no position to haggle about
prices. I'll offer it at a bargain to some large
dealer. He will naturally think I'm a country gen-
tleman, and clinch the bargain at once. Do you
see?"
"Yes, Brown. You've got the right idea."
"Of course I have," said Brown, complacently.
"It takes a long head to outwit me. Got another
cigar, Minton?"
Minton drew out one and handed it to his con-
federate, and presently took his turn at the rudder.
So time passed, the boat making good progress,
and about three o'clock in the afternoon the boat
reached an obscure pier in the lower part of St.
Louis.
There were some interested persons watching its
arrival. Among them were Bob and his friend
Clip, and a small squad of policemen. Not suspect-
ing anything, Brown and Minton busied themselves
in bringing the boat to anchor. Meanwhile Bob,
without being observed, stepped aboard.
252 BOB BURTON
"Good afternoon, Mr. Brown ! I hope you had
a pleasant trip," he said, quietly.
Brown felt as if he had been struck by lightning.
Wheeling around suddenly, he saw Bob's eyes fixed
upon him. He was absolutely speechless with
amazement and consternation.
"Who are you?" he finally ejaculated, quickly
resolving to brazen it out, and deny Bob's claim of
ownership.
"I think you know me, Mr. Brown!" replied
Bob. "I have only to thank you for taking charge
of my boat and bringing it safe to St. Louis."
"Look here, young feller!" said Brown, roughly,
"you must be crazy. I never saw you before in my
life, and here you come on board my boat and claim
it as your own. If you don't clear out I'll have you
arrested."
"There will be no difficulty about that, Mr.
Brown. Here are policemen close at hand."
Mr. Brown's face grew pale as he saw three stal-
wart policemen marching on board the boat.
"I guess it's all up, Minton," he said, and made
a dash for liberty; but he was not quick enough.
He and Minton were quickly secured and marched
off, with handcuffs on their wrists. As we are now
to bid these gentlemen farewell, it may be said
briefly that they pleaded guilty in hopes of a lighter
sentence, and were sent to prison for seven years.
BOB BURTON 253
Thus far the community has been able to spare
them without inconvenience.
Bob and Clip resumed charge of the boat, and
during the next day disposed of the cargo to Mr.
Pearson at the price agreed upon.
254 BOB BURTON
CHAPTER XXXVIII
WHAT BOB BROUGHT HOME
After disposing of his cargo, Bob was puzzled
to know what to do with the ferryboat. Finally he
had an offer of one hundred dollars, from a specu-
lative Yankee who had drifted out to St. Louis, and
gladly accepted it. This sum paid all expenses, in-
cluding his and Clip's return fare, and left him with
a handsome sum to his credit, viz. :
1,400 bushels wheat, at $2.25 . . .$3,150
Reward 1,000
$4, 1 50
This sum, with the exception of one hundred and
fifty dollars, by advice of Mr. Pearson, he depos-
ited in a St. Louis bank, and then started for home.
He could not make the whole passage by
steamer, but went part way by railroad, and then
engaged a carriage to a point four miles from
home. Thence he and Clip walked. He wanted to
BOB BURTON 2551
surprise not only his mother, but Wolverton. He
knew now that Brown and Minton had only been
agents of his more crafty enemy, Brown having
made a written confession, not so much out of
friendship to Bob as out of spite against Wolver-
ton, whom he held responsible for getting him into
this scrape.
With soiled shoes and clothes covered with dust,
Bob and Clip entered the village, and purposely
walked by Wolverton's office.
The latter, spying them through the window,
smiled maliciously, and hurried out to meet them.
"Aha, my young friends," he said, with a pleased
glance at their soiled clothes, "so you have re-
turned?"
"Yes, sir," answered Bob, soberly.
"And what luck did you have, may I ask?"
"We had good luck at first, but at Rocky Creek
two rascals entrapped us, and stole our boat and
cargo."
Wolverton laughed outright. So it was true,
after all.
"Excuse my smiling," he said; "but you seem to
have come out at the little end of the horn."
"It does seem so, sir."
"You remember what I told you before you
started?"
"What was that?"
"That you were too young for such an expedi-
256 BOB BURTON
tion. It would have been much better for you to
accept my offer."
"It seems so," answered Bob again.
"Seems so ! Of course it would have been. But
the trouble was, you were so puffed up by your own
self-conceit that you thought you knew best."
"I plead guilty to that, sir; I did think so," an-
swered Bob, candidly.
"I am glad you admit it. So you had to walk
back?"
"You can judge for yourself, Mr. Wolverton."
"Well, you certainly do look like two tramps.
The next time you may feel like following my ad-
vice."
"I may," answered Bob.
It did occur to Mr. Wolverton that Bob's an-
swers were rather unusual, and his manner rather
queer, quite unlike his usual tone and manner. But
this he readily accounted for. The boy's pride had
been humbled. He knew now that he was in Wol-
verton's power, and he had the sense to be humble,
in the hope of making better terms.
"But it won't do," said the agent to himself.
"He will find that I will have what is mine, and he
cannot soften my heart by any appeal to my pity."
"It appears to me you are in rather a scrape," he
said, after a pause.
"How is that?"
BOB BURTON 257
"Why, a part of your mortgage comes due in a
short time. I hope you don't expect me to wait."
"No doubt you will be considerate, Mr. Wolver-
ton, remembering what luck we have had."
"No, I won't," snarled Wolverton.
"Don't flatter yourself so far. I am not respon-
sible for your misfortune, or folly, as I call it."
"Still, Mr. Wolverton "
"Oh, it's no use to talk," continued the agent,
raising his hand impatiently. "You have been a
fool, and you must suffer the penalty of your folly."
"Has Sam got back, Mr. Wolverton?" asked
Bob, changing the subject, rather to Mr. Wolver-
ton's surprise.
"No; have you seen him?" asked the agent,
eagerly.
"Yes, sir."
"Where?" asked Wolverton, quickly.
"The fact is, we discovered him on our boat soon
after we started."
"You did!" ejaculated the agent, his eyes almost
starting out of his head. "Why didn't you send
him back?"
"Because he said you didn't treat him well, and
begged to stay."
"Young man, do you know I could have you ar-
rested for abducting my nephew?" demanded Wol-
verton, angrily.
25 8 BOB BURTON
"Was it my fault that he hid himself on my
boat?"
"Where is he now?" asked Wolverton, abruptly.
"He left the boat at a point on the way."
"Where was it?"
"You must excuse my answering that question.
Sam wouldn't like it."
"What difference does that make?"
"Sam is my friend. I think, however, you will
soon know, as he means to come back."
Wolverton smiled triumphantly.
"I shall be glad to see him," he said, significant-
ly. Bob knew what that meant.
"You must excuse me now, Mr. Wolverton,"
said Bob. "I must hurry home, as mother will be
anxious to see me."
"Tell her I shall call very soon — on business."
"I will."
When they were out of hearing the boys laughed
in amusement. They had a surprise in store for
Wolverton.
BOB BURTON 259
CHAPTER XXXIX
CONCLUSION
There was another arrival at Burton's Ranch
the next day. Sam Wolverton came in charge of
his new-found relative, Robert Granger. They
took a carriage, and reached the ranch without at-
tracting the attention of Aaron Wolverton.
Mrs. Burton welcomed her visitors, and ex-
pressed great pleasure at the discovery that Sam's
fortunes were likely to be improved. Mr. Granger
proposed to make a call upon the faithless guar-
dian, but was saved the necessity, as Mr. Wolver-
ton called early in the afternoon of the same day.
He was in a hurry to show his power, and foreclose
the mortgage. It was arranged that Sam and Mr.
Granger should remain out of sight at first.
Robert answered the knock at the door.
"Is your mother at home?" asked Wolverton.
"Yes, sir; will you walk in?"
"I believe I will."
He entered the sitting-room, and Mrs. Burton
soon made her appearance.
260 BOB BURTON
"I see your son has returned, widder," remarked
the agent.
"Yes; it seems pleasant to have him back. I
missed him greatly."
"Humph ! I s'pose so. It's a pity he went at all."
"I don't know that."
"Why, it stands to reason," said Wolverton, im-
patiently. "He went on a fool's errand."
"What makes you say that?"
"He might have known a boy like him couldn't
succeed in such an enterprise. If he had taken up
with my offer, he would have been all right."
"He said you offered him much less than the
market price."
"And so he started off to do better, and lost his
whole cargo," sneered Wolverton, smiling unpleas-
antly.
Mrs. Burton was silent.
"I came to tell you that I should require not only
the interest, but a payment of half the mortgage,
according to the conditions. It is due next Satur-
day."
"Won't you wait, under the circumstances, Mr.
Wolverton?"
"No; I will not."
"Do you think that is kind ?" asked Mrs. Burton.
"Kindness is kindness, and business is "business,
Mrs. Burton. Still, I am willing to spare you on
one condition."
BOB BURTON 261
"What is that?"
"That you become Mrs. Wolverton."
Mrs. Burton made a gesture of repulsion.
"That is entirely out of the question," she said.
"Then I shall show no mercy."
Mrs. Burton went to the door and called
"Robert."
Bob entered.
"Mr. Wolverton demands his interest and the
payment of half the mortgage, according to the
terms."
"It is not due yet."
"It will be, next Saturday," said the agent, tri-
umphantly. "And I won't listen to any palaver or
any entreaties to put off the payment. As you have
made your bed you can lie upon it."
"What do you propose to do if we don't pay?"
asked Bob.
"Foreclose the mortgage," exclaimed the agent,
bringing down his fist upon the table before him.
"In that case, I think, mother, we will pay," said
Bob, quietly.
"You can't pay !" snarled Wolverton.
"That is where you are mistaken, Mr. Wolver-
ton. I will not only pay what you ask, but I am
ready to take up the whole mortgage."
"Is the boy crazy?" ejaculated Wolverton.
"Not that I am aware of," answered Bob,
smiling.
262 BOB BURTON
"You haven't got the money."
"Mistaken again, Mr. Wolverton."
"When did you get it?" gasped Wolverton.
"Wasn't your cargo stolen?"
"Yes, by emissaries of yours," was Bob's unex-
pected reply; "but I recovered it, and sold the grain
for two dollars and a quarter a bushel."
"You recovered it?" said Wolverton, turning
pale.
"Yes; and the men that stole it are now in jail.
I have a letter from one of them, declaring that he
was employed by you."
"It's a lie!" hastily exclaimed the agent; but he
looked frightened.
"I have reason to believe it is true. Mr. Wol-
verton, your base conspiracy failed."
"I guess I'll go," said Wolverton, rising. He
wanted time to think.
"Not just yet. Here are two persons who wish
to see you," and, to Wolverton's surprise, Sam and
Robert Granger entered the room.
"You didn't expect to see me, Aaron Wolver-
ton," said Captain Granger. "I have come here
with your nephew to demand restitution of the
property which you have appropriated to your own
use, giving him to understand that he was living on
charity."
Wolverton looked like a man in a state of col-
lapse. He didn't dare to deny what he knew Cap-
BOB BURTON 263
tain Granger would have no difficulty in proving.
He glared at Sam as if he would like to have him
in his power for a short time.
"Are you coming back with me?" he asked.
"I will answer for him," said Captain Granger.
"Sam is of an age when the law authorizes him to
select his own guardian. I have accepted the trust,
and I demand the transfer of his property to me."
If there had been any chance of success, Wolver-
ton would have contested the matter, and, as it was,
he interposed all the obstacles in his power. Final-
ly, Sam got his own, however, much to Wolverton's
disappointment.
Five years have passed. The mortgage on Bur-
ton's Ranch has long- since neen paid, and Bob is
making a handsome profit every year for his
mother and himself. Clip is still a member of the
family, and, though he cannot be called a model of
industry, he is a favorite through his good nature
and love of fun. He is thoroughly loyal to the
Burtons, and hates Wolverton as much as it is in
his nature to hate anybody. Wolverton is getting
worse in temper as he grows older, and his ill-
gotten gains do not bring him happiness. The sight
of Bob's prosperity is gall and wormwood to him;
but for this Bob cares little. Sam is employed in a
264 BOB BURTON
store under his new guardian's charge, but every
summer he comes to Burton's Ranch and stays a
month, where he, Bob and Clip have fine times.
Mrs. Burton is happy in her prosperity, and is
thankful to God for having given her so good a
son. Bob has made more than one trip down the
river, but none so eventful as the one described in
this story.
THE END ^— - -y
/ * ^ @
A« L. Burt's Catalogue of Books for
Young People by Popular Writers, 52 •
58 Duane Street, New York ^ ^ >€
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
Joe's Luck: A Boy's Adventures in California. By
Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
The story is chock full of stirring incidents, while the amusing situ-
ations are furnished by Joshua Bickford, from Pumpkin Eollow, and the
fellow who modestly styles himself the "Rip-tail Roarer, from Pike Co.,
Missouri." Mr. Alger never writes a poor book, and "Joe's Luck" is cer-
tainly one of his best.
Tom the Bootblack; or, The Eoad to Success. By
Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
A bright, enterprising lad was Tom the Bootblack. He was not at all
ashamed of his humble calling, though always on the lookout to better
himself. The lad started for Cincinnati to look ud his heritage. Mr,
Grey, the uncle, did not hesitate to employ a ruffian to kill the lad. The
plan failed, and Gilbert Grey, once Tom the bootblack, came into a com-
fortable fortune. This is one of Mr. Alger's best stories.
Dan the Newsboy. By Horatio Alger, Jk. 12mo,
cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
Dan Mordaunt and his mother live in a poor tenement, and the lad id
pluckily trying to make ends meet by selling papers in the streets of New
Yerk. A little heiress of six years is confided to the care of the Mor-
daunts. The child is kidnapped and Dan tracks the child to the house
where she is hidden, and rescues her. The wealthy aunt of the little
heiress is so delighted with Dan's courage and many good qualities
that she adopts him as her heir.
Tony the Hero: A Brave Boy's Adventure with a
Tramp. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price §1.00.
Tony, a sturdy bright-eyed boy of fourteen, is under the control of
Rudolph Rugg, a thorough rascal. After much abuse Tony runs away
and gets a job as stable boy in a country hotel. Tony is heir to a
large estate. Rudolph for a consideration hunts up Tony and throws
him down a deep well. Of course Tony escapes from the fate provided
for him, and by a brave act, a rich friend secures his rights and Tony
is prosperous. A very entertaining book.
The Errand Boy; or, How Phil Brent Won Success.
By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth illustrated, price $1-00.
The career of "The Errand Boy" embraces the city adventures of a
•mart country lad. Philip was brought up by a kind-hearted innkeeper
named Brent. The death of Mrs. Brent paved the way for the hero's
subsequent troubles. A retired oierchant in New York secures him the
situation of errand boy, and thereafter stands as his friend.
Tom Temple's Career. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo,
cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
Tom Temple is a bright, self-reliant lad. He leaves Plympton village
to seek work in New York, whence he undertakes an important mission
to California. Some of his adventures in the far west are so startling that
the reader will scarcely close the book until the last page shall have been
reached. The tale is written in Mr. Alger's most fascinating style.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price Pr the
publisher, A. L. BUST, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.
2 A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
Frank Fowler, the Cash Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr.
]2mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
Frank Fowler, a poor boy, bravely determines to make a living for
himself and his foster-sister Grace. Going to New York he obtains a
situation as cash boy in a dry goods store. He renders a service to a
wealthy old gentleman who takes a fancy to the lad, and thereafter
helps the lad to gain success and fortune.
Tom Thatcher's Fortune. By Horatio Alger, Jr.
13m cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
Tofl Thatcher is a brave, ambitious, unselfish boy. He supports his
mothe and sister on meagre wages earned as a shoe-pegger in John
Simpson's factory. Tom is discharged from the factory and starts over-
land for California. He meets with many adventures. The story is told
in a way which has made Mr. Alger's name a household word in so many
homes.
The Train Boy. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo,
cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
Paul Palmer was a wide-awake boy of sixteen who supported his mother
and sister by selling books and papers on the Chicago and Milwaukee
Eailroad. He detects a young man in the act of picking the pocket of a
young lady. In a railway accident many passengers are killed, but Paul
is fortunate enough to assist a Chicago merchant, who out of gratitude
takes him into his employ. Paul succeeds with tact and judgment and
Is well started on the road to business prominence.
Mark Mason's Victory. The Trials and Triumphs of
a Telegraph Boy, By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price
$1.00.
Mark Mason, the telegraph boy, was a sturdy, honest lad, who pluckily
won his way to success by his honest maaly efforts under many diffi-
culties. This story will please the very large class of boys who regard
Mr. Alger as a favorite author.
A Debt of Honor. The Story of Gerald Lane's Success
in the Far West. By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price
$1.00.
The story of Gerald Lane and the account of the many trials and dis-
appointments which he passed through befoi he attained success, will
interest all boys who have read the previous stories of this delightful
author.
Ben Brace. Scenes in the Life of a Bowery Newsboy.
By Horatio Alger, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
Ben Bruce was a brave, manly, generous boy. The story of his efforts,
and many seeming failures and disappointments, and his final success, are
most Interesting to all readers. The tale is written in Mr. Alger'a
most fascinating style.
The Castaways; or, On the Florida Eeefs. By James
Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
This tale smacks of the salt sea. From the moment that the Sea
Queen leaves lower New York bay till the breeze leaves her becalmed off
the coast of Florida, one can almost hear the whistle of the wind
through her rigging, the creak of her straining cordage as she heels to
the leeward. The adventures of Ben Clark, the hero of the story and
Jake the cook, cannot fail to charm the reader. As p, writer for young
people Mr. Otis is a prime favorite.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publisher, A. L. BUST, 52-E8 Duane Street, New York.
A. L. BUET'S BOOKS FOB YOUNG PEOPLE. 3
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
Wrecked on Spider Island; or, How Ned Rogers Found
the Treasure. By James Otis. 13mo, cloth, illustrated, price 81.00.
Ned Rogers, a "down-east" plucky lad ships as cabin boy to earn
a livelihood. Ned is marooned on Spider Island, and while there dis-
covers a wreck submerged in the sand, and finds a considerable amount
of treasure. The capture of the treasure and the incidents of the
voyage serve to make as entertaining a story of sea-life as the most
captious boy could desire.
The Search for the Silver City: A Tale of Adventure in
Yucatan. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
Two lads, Teddy Wright and Neal Emery, embark on the steam
yacht Day Dream for a cruise to the tropics. The yacht is destroyed
by fire, and then the boat is cast upon the coast of Yucatan. They
hear of the wonderful Silver City, of the Chan Santa Cruz Indians,
and with the help of a faithful Indian ally carry off a number of the
golden images from the temples. Pursued with relentless vigor at last
their escape is effected in an astonishing manner. The story is so
full of exciting incidents that the reader is quite carried away with
the novelty and realism of the narrative.
A Bunaway Brig; or, An Accidental Cruise. By
James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
This is a sea tale, and the reader can look out upon the wide shimmer-
ing sea as it flashes back the sunlight, and imagine himself afloat with
Harry Vandyne, Walter Morse, Jim Libby and that old shell-back, Bob
Brace, on the brig Bonita. The boys discover a mysterious document
which enables them to find a buried treasure. They are stranded on
an island and at last are rescued with the treasure. The boys are sure
to be fascinated with this entertaining story.
The Treasure Finders: A Boy's Adventures in
Nicaragua. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
Roy and Dean Coloney, with their guide Tongla, leave their father's
Indigo plantation to visit the wonderful ruins of an ancient city. The
boys eagerly explore the temples of an extinct race and discover three
golden images cunningly hidden away. They escape with the greatest
difficulty. Eventually they reach safety with their golden prizes. We
doubt if there ever was written a more entertaining story than "The
Treasure Finders."
Jack, the Hunchback. A Story of the Coast of Maine.
By James Otis. Price $1.00.
This is the story of a little hunchback who lived on Cape Elizabeth,
on the coast of Maine. His trials and successes are most interesting.
From first to last nothing stays the interest of the narrative. It bears us
along as on a stream whose current varies In direction, but never loses
its force.
With Washington at Monmouth: A Story of Three
Philadelphia Boys. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine
edges, illustrated, price $1.50.
Three Philadelphia lads assist the American spies and make regular
and frequent visits to Valley Forge in the Winter while the British
occupied the city. The story abounds with pictures of Colonial life
skillfully drawn, and the glimpses of Washington's soldiers which are
given shown that the work has not been hastily done, or without con-
siderable study. The story is wholesome and patriotic in tone, as are
all of Mr. Otis' works.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the-
publisher, A, L. BURT, S2-68 Duane Street, New York.
4: A. L. burt's books for young people.
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
With Lafayette at Yorktown: A Story of How Two
Boys Joined the Continental Army. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental
cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50.
Two lads from Portm»uth, N. H., attempt to enlist in the Colonial
Army, and are given employment as spies. There Is no lack of exciting
incidents which the youthful reader craves, but it is healthful excite-
ment brimming with facts which every boy should be familiar with,
and while the reader is following the adventures of Ben Jaffrays and
Ned Allen he is acquiring a fund of historical lore which will remain
in his memory long after that which he has memorized from text-
books has been forgotten.
At the Siege of Havana. Being the Experiences of
Three Boys Serving under Israel Putnam in 1762. By James Otis. 12mo,
ornamental cloth, olivine edges, illustrated, price $1.50.
"At the Siege of Havana" deals with that portion of the Island's
history when the English king captured the capital, thanks to the
assistance given by the troops from New England, led in part by Col.
Israel Putnam.
The principal characters are Darius Lunt, the lad who, represented as
telling the story, and his comrades, Robert Clement and Nicholas
Vallet. Colonel Putnam also figures to considerable extent, necessarily,
in the tale, and the whole forms one of the most readable stories founded on
historical facts.
The Defense of Fort Henry. A Story of Wheeling
Creek in 1777. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine edges,
illustrated, price $1.50.
Nowhere in the history of our country can be found more heroic or
thrilling incidents than in the story of those brave men and women
Who founded the settlement of Wheeling in the Colony of Virginia. The
recital of what Elizabeth Zane did is in itself as heroic a story as can
be imagined. The wondrous bravery displayed by Major McCulloch
and his gallant comrades, the sufferings of the colonists and their sacrifice
of blood and life, stir the blood of old as well as young readers.
The Capture of the Laughing Mary. A Story of Three
New York Boys in 1776. By James Otis. 12mo, ornamental cloth, olivine
edges, price $1.50.
"During the British occupancy of New York, at the outbreak of the
Revolution, a Yankee lad hears of the plot to take General Washington's
person, and calls in two companions to assist the patriot cause. They
do some astonishing things, and. Incidentally, lay the way for an
American navy later, by the exploit which gives its name te the
work. Mr. Otis' books are too well known to require any particular
commendation to the young." — Evening Post.
With Warren at Bunker Hill. A Story of the Siege of
Boston. By James Otis. 12mo, ornametnal cloth, olivine edges, illus-
trated, price $1.50.
"This Is a tale of the siege of Boston, which opens on the day after
the doings at Lexington and Concord, with a description of home life
in Boston, introduces the reader to the British camp at Charlestown,
shows Gen. Warren at home, describes what a boy thought of the
battle of Bunker Hill, and closes with the raising of the siege. The
three heroes, George Wentworth, Ben Scarlett and an old ropemaker,
Incur the enmity of a young Tory, who causes them many adventures
the boys will like to read." — Detroit Free Press.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.
A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOB YOUNG PEOPLE. 5
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
With the Swamp Fox. The Story of General Marion's
Spies. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
This story deals with General Francis Marion's heroic struggle in the
Carolinas. General Marion's arrival to take command of these brave
men and rough riders is pictured as a boy might have seen it, and
although the story Is devoted to what the lads did, the Swamp Fox
is ever present in the mind of the reader.
On the Kentucky Frontier. A Story of the Fighting
Pioneers of the West. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.
In the history of our country there is no more thrilling story than
that of the work done on the Mississippi river by a handful of frontiers-
men. Mr. Otis takes the reader on that famous expedition from the
arrival of Major Clarke's force at Corn Island, until Kaskaskia was
captured. He relates that part of Simon Kenton's life history which
is not usually touched upon either by the historian or the story teller.
This is one of the most entertaining books for young people which haa
been published.
Sarah Dillard's Ride. A Story of South Carolina in
in 1780. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"This book deals with the Carolinas in 1780, giving a wealth of detail of
the Mountain Men who struggled so valiantly against the king's troops.,
Major Ferguson is the prominent British officer of the story, which i&
told as though coming from a youth who experienced these adventures.
In this way the famous ride of Sarah Dillard is brought out as an
incident of the plot." — Boston Journal. *■
A Tory Plot. A Story of the Attempt to Kill General
Washington. By James Otis. 13mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
" 'A Tory Plot' is the story of two lads who overhear something:
of the plot originated during the Revolution by Gov. Tryon to capture
or murder Washington. They communicate their knowledge to Gen,.
Putnam and are commissioned by him to play the role of detectives
in the matter. They do so, and meet with many adventures and hair^
breadth escapes. The boys are, of course, mythical, but they serve to en-
able the author to put into very attractive shape much valuable knowledge
concerning one phase of the Revolution." — Pittsburgh Times.
A Traitor's Escape. A Story of the Attempt to Seize
Benedict Arnold. By James Otis. 12rno, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"This is a tale with stirring scenes depicted in each chapter, bringing
clearly before the mind the glorious deeds of the early settlers in this
country. In an historical work dealing with this country's past, no
plot can bold the attention closer than this one, which describes the
attempt and partial success of Benedict Arnold's escape to New fork,
where he remained as the guest of Sir Henry Clinton. All those who
actually figured in the arrest of the traitor; as well as Gen. Washing- '
ton, are included as characters." — Albany Union.
A Cruise with Paul Jones. A Story of Naval Warfare
in 1776. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.09.
"This story takes up that portion of Paul Jones' adventurous life
When he was hovering off the British coast, watching for aa oppor-
tunity to strike the enemy a blow. It deals more particularly with
fais descent upon Whitehaven, the seizure of Lady Selkirk's plate, and
the famous battle with the Brake. The bey who figures in the tale
is one who was taken from a derelict by Paul Jones shortly after thi»
particular cruise was begun." — Chicago Inter-Ocean.
For sale by all booksellers, or sort postpaid on receipt of price By th©-
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.
C A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
Corporal Lige's Eecruit. A Story of Crown Point and
Ticonderoga. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1,00.
"In 'Corporal Lige's Recruit,' Mr. Otis tells the amusing story of an
old soldier, proud of his record, who had served the king in '58, and who
takes the lad, Isaac Rice, as his 'personal recruit.' The lad acquits
himself superbly. Col. Ethan Allen 'in the name of God and the con-
tinental congress,' infuses much martial spirit into the narrative, which
will arouse the keenest interest as it proceeds. Crown Point, Ticon-
deroga, Benedict Arnold and numerous other famous historical names
appear In this dramatic tale." — Boston Globe.
Morgan, the Jersey Spy. A Story of the Siege of York-
town in 1781. By James Otis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
'•'The two lads who are utilized by the author to emphasize the details
of the work done during that memorable time were real boys who lived
on the banks of the York river, and who aided the Jersey spy in his
dangerous occupation. In the guise of fishermen the lads visit York-
town, are suspected of being spies, and put under arrest. Morgan risks
his life to save them. The final escape, the thrilling encounter with a
squad of red coats, when they are exposed equally to the bullets of
friends and foes, told in a masterly fashion, makes of this volume one
of the most entertaining books of the year." — Inter-Ocean.
The Young Scout: The Story of a West Point Lieu-
tenant. By Edward S. Ellis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00
The crafty Apache chief Geronimo but a few years ago was the
most terrible scourge of the southwest border. The author has woven,
In a tale of thrilling interest, all the incidents of Geronimo's last raid.
The hero is Lieutenant James Decker, a recent graduate of West Point.
Ambitious to distinguish himself the young man takes many a desperate
chance against the enemy and on more than one occasion narrowly
escapes with his life. In our opinion Mr. Ellis is the best writer of
Indian stories now before the public.
Adrift in the Wilds: The Adventures of Two Ship-
wrecked Boys. By Edward S. Ellis. ISmo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
Elwood Brandon and Howard Lawrence are en route for San Fran-
cisco. Off the coast of California the steamer takes fire. The two boy3
reach the shore with several of the passengers. Young Brandon be-
comes separated from his party and is captured by hostile Indians,
but is afterwards rescued. This is a very entertaining narrative of
Southern California.
A Young Hero; or, Fighting to Win. By Edward S.
Ellis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
This story tells how a valuable solid silver service was stolen from
the Misses Perkinpine, two very old and simple minded ladies. Fred
Sheldon, the hero of this story, undertakes to discover the thieves and
have them arrested. After much time spent in detective work, he
succeeds in discovering the silver plate and winning the reward. The
story is told in Mr. Ellis' most fascinating style. Every boy will be
glad to read this delightful book.
Lostl in the Kockies. A Story of Adventure in the
Rocky Mountains. By Edward S. Ellis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.
Incident succeeds Incident, and adventure Is piled upon adventure,
and at the end the reader, be he boy or man, will have experienced
breathless enjoyment in this romantic story describing many adventures in
the Rockies and among the Indians.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-68 Duane Street, New York.
A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 71
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
A Jaunt Through Java: The Story of a Journey to
the Sacred Mountain. By Edward S. Ellis. 12mo, cloth, illustrated,
price $1.00.
The interest of this story is found in the thrilling adventures of
two cousins, Hermon and Eustace Hadley, on their trip acrosss the island
of Java, from Samarang to the Sacred Mountain. In a land where the
Royal Bengal tiger, the rhinoceros, and other fierce beasts are to be
met with, it is but natural that the heroes of this book should have a
lively experience. There is not a dull page in the book.
The Boy Patriot. A Story of Jack, the Young Friend
of Washington. By Edward S. Ellis. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, illus-
trated, price $1.50.
"There are adventures of all kinds for the hero and his friends, whose
pluck and ingenuity in extricating themselves from awkward fixes are
always equal to the occasion. It is an excellent story full of honest,
manly, patriotic efforts on the part of the hero. A very vivid description
of the battle of Trenton is also found in this story." — Journal of
Education.
A Yankee Lad's Pluck. How Bert Larkin Saved his
Father's Ranch in Porto Rico. By Wm. P. Chipman. 12mo, cloth, illus-
trated, price $1.00.
"Bert Larkin, the hero of the story, early excites our admiration,
and is altogether a fine character such as boys will delight in, whilst
the story of his numerous adventures is very graphically told. This
will, we think, prove one of the most popular boys' books this season."—
Gazette.
A Brave Defense. A Story of the Massacre at Fort
Griswold in 1781. By William P. Chipman. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price
$1.00.
Perhaps no more gallant fight against fearful odds took place during
the Revolutionary War than that at Fort Griswold, Groton Heights, Conn.,
in 1781. The boys are real boys who were actually on the muster rolls,
either at Fort Trumbull on the New London side, or of Fort Griswold on
the Groton side of the Thames. The youthful reader who follows Halsey
Sanford and Levi Dart and Tom Malleson, and their equally brave com-
rades, through their thrilling adventures will be learning something more
than historical facts; they will be imbibing lessons of fidelity, of bravery,
of heroism, and of manliness, which must prove serviceable in the arena
of life.
The Young Minuteman. A Story of the Capture of
General Prescott in 1777. By William P. Chipman. 12mo, cloth, illustrated,
price $1.00.
This story is based upon actual events which occurred during the British
occupation of the waters of Narraeansett Bay. Darius Wale and William
Northrop belong to, "the coast patrol." The story is a strong one, dealing
only with actual events. There is, however, no lack of thrilling adventure,
and every lad who is fortunate enough to obtain the book will find not
only that his historical knowledge is increased, but that his own patriotism
and love of country are deepened.
For the Temple: A Tale of the Fall of Jerusalem.
By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by S. J. Solomon. 12mo, cloth, olivine
edges, price fl. 00.
"Mr. Henty's graphic prose picture of the hopeless Jewish resistance
to Roman sway adds another leaf to his record of the famous wars of
the world. The book is one of Mr. Henty's cleverest efforts." — Graphic.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by ths
publisher, A. L. BXTRT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.
8 A. L. BURT'S books for young people.
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
Roy Gilbert's Search: A Tale of the Great Lakes. By
Wm. P. Ohipman. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price §1.00.
A deep mystery hangs over the parentage of Roy Gilbert. He arranges
with two schoolmates to make a tour of the Great Lakes on a steam
launch. The three boys visit many points of interest on the lakes.
Afterwards the lads rescue an elderly gentleman and a lady from a sink-
ing yacht. Later on the boys narrowly escape with their lives. The
hero is a manly, self-reliant boy, whose adventures will be followed
with interest.
The Slate Picker: The Story of a Boy's Life in the
Coal Mines. By Harry Prentice. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
This is a story of a boy's life in the coal mines of Pennsylvania.
Ben Burton, the hero, had a hard road to travel, but by grit and energy
he advanced step by step until he found himself called upon to fill the
position of chief engineer of the Kohinoor Coal Company. This is a
book of extreme interest to every boy reader.
The Boy Cruisers; or, Paddling in Florida. By St.
George Rathborne. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1-00
Andrew George and Rowland Carter start on a canoe trip along the
Gulf coast, from Key West to Tampa, Florida. Their first adventure
is with a pair of rascals who steal their boats. Next they run into
a gale in the Gulf. After that they have a lively time with alli-
gators and Andrew gets into trouble with a band of Seminole Indians.
Mr. Rathborne knows just how to interest the boys, and lads who are
in search of a rare treat will do well to. read this entertaining story.
Captured by Zulus: A Story of Trapping in Africa.
By Harry Prentice. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
This story details the adventures of two lads, Dick Elsworth and Bob
Harvey, in the wilds of South Africa. By stratagem the Zulus captur*
Dick and Bob and take them tu their principal kraal or village. The
lads escape death by dig: ing their way out of the prison hut by night.
They are pursued, but the Zulus finally give up pursuit. Mr. Prentice
tells exactly how wild-beast collectors secure specimens on their native
stamping grounds, and these descriptions make very entertaining rending.
Tom the Ready; or, Up from the Lowest. By Ran-
dolph Hill. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
This is a dramatic narrative of the unaided rise of a fearless, ambi-
tious boy from the lowest round of fortune's ladder to wealth and the
governorship of his native State. Tom Seacomb begins life with a pur-
pose, and eventually overcomes those who oppose him. How he manages
to win the battle is told by Mr. Hill in a masterful way that thrills
the reader and holds his attention and sympathy to the end.
Captain Kidd's Gold: The True Story of an Adven-
turous Sailor Boy. By James Franklin Fitts. 12mo, cloth, illustrated,
price $1.00.
There is something fascinating to the average youth In the very idea
of buried treasure. A vision arises before his eyes of swarthy Portu-
guese and Spanish rascals, with black beards and gleaming eyes. There
were many famous sea rovers, but none more celebrated than Capt. Kidd.
Paul Jones Garry Inherits a document which locates a considerable
treasure buried by two of Kidd's crew. The hero of this book is an
ambitious, persevering lad, of salt-water New England ancestry, and his
efforts to reach the island and secure the money form one of the moat
absorbing tales for our youth that has come from the press.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by tht5
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-68 Duane Strest, New York.
A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 9
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
The Boy Explorers: The Adventures of Two Boys in
Alaska. By Harry Prentice. l2mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
Two boys, Raymond and Spencer Manning, travel to Alaska to join
their father in search of their uncle. On their arrival at Sitka the boys
with an Indian guide set off across the mountains. The trip is fraught
with perils that test the lads' courage to the utmost. All through their
exciting adventures the lads demonstrate what can be accomplished by
pluck and resolution, and their experience makes one of the most in-
teresting tales ever written.
The Island Treasure; or, Harry Darrel's Fortune.
By Frank H. Converse. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
Harry Darrel, having received a nautical training on a school-ship, ia
bent on going to sea. A runaway horse changes his prospects. Harry
saves Dr. Gregg from drowning and afterward becomes sailing-master
of a sloop yacht. Mr. Converse's stories possess a charm of their own
which is appreciated by lads who delight in good healthy tales that
smack of salt water.
Guy Harris: The Eunaway. By Harry Castlemon.
12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
Guy Harris lived in a small city on the shore of one of the Great
Lakes. He is persuaded to go to sea, and gets a glimpse of the rough
side of life In a sailor's boarding house. He ships on a vessel and for
Ave months leads a hard life. The book will interest boys generally
on account of its graphic style. This is one of Castlemon's most attract-
ive stories.
Julian Mortimer: A Brave Boy's Struggle for Home
and Fortune. By Harry Castlemon. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.
The scene of the story lies west of the Mississippi River, in the days
when emigrants made their perilous way across the great plains to the
land of gold. There is an attack upon the wagon train by a large party
of Indians. Our hero is a 'ad of uncommon nerve and pluck. Befriended
by a stalwart trapper, a real rough diamond, our hero achieves the most
happy results.
By Pike and Dyke: A Tale of the Rise of the Dutch
Republic. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Maynard Brown.
12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"Boys with a turn for historical research will be enchanted with the
book, while the rest who only care for adventure will be students in spite
of themselves." — St. James's Gazette.
St. George for England: A Tale of Cressy and Poi-
tiers. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo,
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"A story of very great interest for boys. In his own forcible style
the author has endeavored to show that determination and enthusiasm
can accomplish marvellous results; and that courage is generally accom-
panied by magnanimity and gentleness." — Pall Mall Gazette.
Captain Bayley's Heir: A Tale of the Gold Fields of
California. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by H. M. Paget. 12moi
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"Mr. Henty is careful to mingle Instruction with entertainment; and
the humorous touches, especially in the sketch of John Holl, the West-
minster dustman, Dickens himself could hardly have excelled." — Chris-
tian Leader. ______^_______^___
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.
10 A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.
BOOKS FOR BOYS. ~
Budd Boyd's Triumph; or, The Boy Firm of Fox Island.
By William P. Chipman. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
The scene of this story is laid on the upper part of Narragansett Bay,
and the leading incidents have a strong salt-water flavor. The two
boys, Budd Boyd and Judd Floyd, being ambitious and clear sighted,
form a partnership to catch and sell fish. Budd's pluck and good sense
carry him through many troubles. In following the career of the boy
firm of Boyd & Floyd, the youthful reader will find a useful lesson —
that industry and perseverance are bound to lead to ultimate success.
lost in the Canyon : Sam Willett's Adventures on the
Great Colorado. By Alfred R. Calhoun. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1,
This story hinges on a fortune left to Sam Willett, the hero, and the
fact that it will pass to a disreputable relative if the lad dies before
he shall have reached his majority. The story of his father's peril and
of Sam's desperate trip down the great canyon on a raft, and how the
party finally escape from their perils is described in a graphic style
that stamps Mr. Calhoun as a master of his art.
Captured by Apes: The Wonderful Adventures of a
Young Animal Trainer. By Harry Prentice. 12mo, cloth, illustrated.
price $1.00.
Philip Garland, a young animal collector and trainer, sets sail for
Eastern seas in quest of a new stock of living curiosities. The vessel
Is wrecked off the coast of Borneo, and young Garland is cast ashore
on a small island, and caDtured by the anes that overrun the place.
Very novel indeed is the way by which the young man escapes death.
Mr. Prentice is a writer of undoubted skill.
Under Brake's Flag: A Tale of the Spanish Main.
By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo, cloth,
olivine edges, price $1.00.
"There is not a dull chapter, nor, indeed, a dull page in the book; but
the author has so carefully worked up his subject that the exciting
deeds of his heroes are never incongruous nor absurd." — Observer,
By Sheer Pluck: A Tale of the Ashanti War. By
G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo, cloth, olivine
edges, price $1.00.
The author has woven, in a tale of thrilling interest, all the details
of the Ashanti campaign, of which he was himself a witness.
"Mr. Henty keeps up his reputation as a writer of boys' stories. 'By
Sheer Pluck' will be eagerly read." — Athensum.
With Lee in Virginia : A Story of the American Civil
War. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo,
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"One of the best stories for lads which Mr. Henty has vet written.
The picture is full of life and color, and the stirring and romantic inci-
dents are skillfully blended with the personal interest and charm of the
Btory . ' ' — Standard.
By England's Aid; or, The Freeing of the Netherlands
(1585-1604). By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Alfred Pearse. 12mo,
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"It is an admirable book for youngsters. It overflows with stirring
Incident and exciting adventure, and the color of the era and of the
scene are finely reproduced. The illustrations add to its attractiveness."—
Boston Gazette.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price b.7 the
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.
A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 11
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
By Right of Conquest; or, With Cortez in Mexico.
By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by W. S. Stagey. t2mo, cloth,
olivine edges, price $1.50.
" The conquest of Mexico by a small band of resolute men under the
magnificent leadership of Cortez Is always rightfully ranked among the most
romantic and daring exploits in history. 'By Right of Conquest* is the
nearest approach to a perfectly successful historical tale that Mr. Henty
has yet published."— Academy.
For Name and Fame; or, Through Afghan Passes.
By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. ISino, cloth,
olivine edges, price $1 .00.
"Not only a rousing story, replete with all the varied forms of excite-
ment of a campaign, but, what is still more useful, an account of a
territory and its inhabitants winch must for a long time possess a supreme
interest for Englishmen, as being the key to our Indian Empire." —
Glasgow Herald.
The Bravest of the Brave; or, With Peterborough in
Spain. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by H. IvI. Paget. 12mo
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"Mr. Henty never loses sight of the moral purpose of his work — to
enforce the doctrine of courage and truth, mercy and loving kindness,
as indispensable to the making of a gentleman. Boys will reau 'The
Bravest of the Brave' with pleasure and profit; of that we are quite
sure." — Daily Telegraph.
The Cat of Bubastes : A Story of Ancient Egypt. By
G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"The story, from the critical moment of the killing of the sacred cat
to the perilous exodus into Asia with which it closes, is very skillfully
constructed and full of exciting adventures. It is admirably illustrated."
— Saturday Review.
Bonnie Prince Charlie: A Tale of Fontenoy and Cul-
loden. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Bro^nf. 12mo,
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"Ronald, the hero, Is very like the hero of 'Quentin Durward.' The
lad's journey across France, and his hairbreadth escapes, ma:.ea up as
good a narrative of the kind as we have ever read. For freshness of
treatment and variety of incident Mr. Henty has surpassed himself."—
Spectator.
With Clive in India; or, The Beginnings of an Empire.
By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12nio, cloth,
olivine edges, price $1.00.
"He has taken a period of Indian history of the most vital impor-
tance, and he has embroidered on the historical facts a story which of
Itself is deeply interesting. Young people assuredly will be delighted
with the volume." — Scotsman.
In the Reign of Terror: The Adventures of a West-
minster Boy. By G. A.. Henty. With illustrations by J. Schonberg.
13mo, cloth, oliviue edges, price $1.00.
"Harry Sandwith, the Westminster boy, may fairly be said to beat
Mr. Henty's reeord. His adventures will delight boys by the audacity
and peril they depict. The story is one of Mr. Henty's best." — Saturday
Review.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by thft
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duaue Street, New York,
12 A. L. BURT'S books for young people.
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
The Lion of the North: A Tale of Gustavus Adolphus
and the "Wars of Religion. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by John
Schonberg. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"A praiseworthy attempt to Interest British youth in the great deeds
of the Scotch Brigade in the wars of Gustavus Adolphus. Mackey, Hep-
burn, and Munro live again in Mr. Henty's pages, as those deserve to
live whose disciplined bands formed really the germ of the modern
British army." — Athenteum.
The Dragon and the Raven; or, The Days of King
Alfred. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by C. J. Sta>tland. 12mo,
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
In this story the author gives an account of the fierce struggle be-
tween Saxon and Dane for supremacy in England, and presents a vivid
picture of the misery and ruin to which the country was reduced by the
ravages of the sea-wolves. The story is treated in a manner most at-
tractive to the boyish reader." — Athenaeum.
The Young Carthaginian: A Story of the Times of
Hannibal. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by C. J. Staniland. 12mo,
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"Well constructed and vividly teld. Prom first to last nothing stays
the interest of the narrative. It bears us along as on a stream whose
current varies in direction, but never loses its force." — Saturday Eeview,
In Freedom's Cause: A Story of Wallace and Bruce.
By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo, cloth,
olivine edges, price $1.00.
"It is written in the author's best style. Full of the wildest and most
remarkable achievements, it is a tale of great interest, which a boy, once
he has begun it, will not willingly put one side." — The Schoolmaster.
With Wolfe in Canada; or, The Winning of a Con-
tinent. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo,
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"A model of what a boys' story-book should be. Mr. Henty has a
great power of infusing into the dead facts of history new life, and as
no pains are spared by him to ensure accuracy in historic details, his
books supply useful aids to study as well as amusement." — School Gmrd-
ian.
True to the Old Slag: A Tale of the American War of
Independence. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne,
12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"Does justice to the pluck and determination of the British soliders
during the unfortunate struggle against American emancipation. The son
of an American loyalist, who remains true to our flag, falls among the
hostile red-skins in that very Huron country which has been endeared
to us by the exploits of Hawkeye and Chingachgook." — The Times. |
A Final Reckoning: A Tale of Bush Life in Aus-
tralia. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by W. B. Wollen. 12mo,
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"All boys will read this story with eager and unflagging interest. The
episodes are in Mr. Henty's very best vein — graphic, exciting, realistic;
and, as in all Mr. Henty's books, the tendency is to the formation of an
honorable, manly, and even heroic character." — Birmingham Post.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.
A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 13
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
The lion of St. Mark: A Tale of Venice in the Four-
teenth Century. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Brqwnjs.
13mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"Every boy should read 'The Lion of St. Mark.' Mr. Henty has never
produced a story more delightful, more wholesome, or more vivacious." — ■
Saturday Review.
Facing Death; or, The Hero of the Vaughan Pit. A
Tale of the Coal Mines. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon
Browne. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"The tale is well written and well illustrated, and there is much
reality in the characters. If any father, clergyman, or schoolmaster
is on the lookout for a good book to give as a present to a boy who Is
worth his salt, this is the book we would recommend." — Standard.
Maori and Settler: A Story of the New Zealand War.
By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Alfred Pearse. 12mo, clotht
olivine edges, price $1.00.
"In the adventures among the Maoris, there are many breathless
moments in which the odds seem hopelessly against the party, but they
succeed in establishing themselves happily in one of the pleasant New
Zealand valleys. It is brimful of adventure, of humorous and Interesting
conversation, and vivid pictures of colonial life." — Schoolmaster.
One of the 28th: A Tale of Waterloo. By G. A.
Henty. With illustrations by W. H. Overend. 13mo, cloth, olivine
edges, price $1.00.
"Written with Homeric vigor and heroic inspiration. It is graphic,
picturesque, and dramatically effective . . . shows us Mr. Henty at
his best and brightest. The adventures will hold a boy enthralled as he
rushes through them with breathless interest 'from cover to cover.' "—
Observer.
Orange and Green: A Tale of the Boyne and Limer-
ick. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by Gordon Browne. 12mo,
cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"The narrative is free from the vice of prejudice, and ripples with
life as if what is being described were really passing before the eye."—
Belfast News-Letter.
Through the Fray: A Story of the Lnddite Riots.
By G. A. Henty. With illustrations by H. M. Paget. 12mo, cloth, olivine
edges, price $1.00.
"Mr. Henty inspires a love and admiration for straightforwardness, truth
and courage. This is one of the best of the many good books Mr.
Henty has produced, and deserves to be classed with his 'Facing Death.* "
— Standard.
The Young Midshipman: A Story of the Bombard-
ment of Alexandria. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges.
price $1.00.
A coast fishing lad, by an act of heroism, secures the Interest of
a shipowner, who plaees him as an apprentice on board one of his ships.
In company with two of his fellow-apprentices he is left behind, at
Alexandria, In the hands of the revolted Egyptian troops, and is present
through the bombardment and the scenes of riot and bloodshed which
accompanied it.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.
14 A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
In Times of Peril. A Tale of India. By G. A.
Hentt. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
The hero of the story early excites our admiration, and is altogether
a fine character such as boys will delight in, whilst the story of the
campaign is very graphically told." — St. James's Gazette.
The Cornet of Horse: A Tale of Marlborough's Wars.
By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.
"Mr. Henty not only concocts a thrilling tale, he weaves fact and fiction
together with so skillful a hand that the reader cannot help acquiring a
just and clear view of that fierce and terrible struggle known as the
Crimean War." — Athenaeum.
The Young Franc-Tireurs : Their Adventures in the
Franco-Prussian War. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth,
olivine edges, price $1.00.
"A capital book for boys. It Is bright and readable, and full of good
sense and manliness. It teaches pluck and patience in adversity, and
shows that right living leads to success." — Observer.
The Young Colonists: A Story of Life and War in
South Africa. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine
edges, price $1.00.
"No boy needs to have any story of Henty's recommended to him, and
parents who do not know and buy them for their boys should be ashamed
of themselves. Those to whom he is yet unknown could not make a
better beginning than with this book.
The Young Buglers. A Tale of the Peninsular War.
By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.
"Mr. Henty is a giant among boys* writers, and his books are suffi-
ciently popular to be sure of a welcome anywhere. In stirring interest,
this is quite up to the level of Mr. Henty's former historical tales."—
Saturday Review.
Sturdy and Strong; or, How George Andrews Made his
Way. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo. cloth, olivine edges,
price $1.00.
"The history of a hero of everyday life, whose love of tr th, clothing of
modesty, and innate pluck, carry him, naturally, from pov:rty tj» afflu-
ence. George Andrews is an example of character with nothing to cavil
at, and stands as a good instance of chivalry in domestic life." — The
Empire.
Among Malay Pirates. A Story of Adventure and
Peril. By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges,
price $1.00.
"Incident succeeds Incident, and adventure Is piled upon adventure,
and at the end the reader, be he boy or man, will have experienced
breathless enjoyment in a romantic story that must have taught ftim
much at its close." — Army and Navy Gazette.
Jack Archer. A Tale of the Crimea. By G. &.
Hknty. With illustrations. liSmo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"Mr. Henty not only concocts a tkrUling tale, he weaves fact and fletlcn
together with so skillful a hand that the reader cannot help acquiring ,i
just and clear view of that fierce and terrible struggle." — Athsnaum.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by tha
publisher, A. X>. BTJET, 58-58 Duane Street, New York.
A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 15
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
Friends, Though Divided. A Tale of the Civil War.
By G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.
"It has a good plot; it abounds in action; the scenes are equally spirited
and realistic, and we can only say we have read it with much pleasure
from first to last." — Times.
Out on the Pampas; or, The Young Settlers. By
G. A. Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price $1.00.
"A really noble story, which adult readers will find to the full as satis-
fying as the boys. Lucky boys! to have such a eaterer as Mr. G. A.
Henty." — Blaek and White.
TheBoyEnight: A Tale of the Crusades. By G. A.
Henty. With illustrations. 12mo, cloth, olivine edges, price Si -00.
"Of stirring episode there is no lack. The book, with its careful accu-
racy and its descriptions of all the chief battles, will give many a school-
boy his first real understanding of a very important period of history." — ■
St. James's Gazette.
The Wreck of the Golden Fleece. The Story of a North
Sea Fisher Boy. By Egbert Leighton. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.
A description of life on the wild North Sea, — the hero being a parson's
son who is appreciated on board a Lowestoft fishing lugger. The lad has
to suffer many buffets from his shipmates, while the storms and dangers
which he braved on board the "North Star" are set forth with minute
knowledge and intense power. The wreck of the "Golden Fleece" forms
the climax to a thrilling series of desperate mischances.
Olaf the Glorious. A Story of the Viking Age. By
Robert Leighton. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1 .00.
This story of Olaf the Glorious, King of Norway, opens with the incident
of his being found by his uncle living as a bond-slave in Esthonia; then
come his adventures as a Viking and his raids upon the coasts of Scot-
land and England, his victorious battle against the English at Maldon in
Essex, his being bought off by Ethelred the Unready, and his conversion
to Christianity. He then returns to Pagan Norway, is accepted as king,
and converts his people to the Christian faith.
To Greenland and the Pole. A story of Adventure in
the Arctic Regions. By Gordon Stables. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.
The unfailing fascination of Arctic venturing is presented in this s:ory
with new vividness. It deals with skilobning in the north of Scotland,
deer-hunting in Norway, sealing in the Arctic Seas, bear-stalking on the
ice-floes, the hardships of a journey across Greenland, and a successful
voyage to the back of the North Pole. This is, indeed, a real sea-yarn
by a real sailor, and the tone is as bright and wholesome as the adventures
are numerous.
Yussuf the Guide. A Story of Adventure in Asia
Minor. By George Manyille Fenn. ISmo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
This story deals with the stirring incidents in the career of a lad who has
been almost given over by the doctors, but who rapidly recovers health
and strength in a journey through Asia Minor. The adventures are many,
and culminate in the travellers being snowed up for the winter in the
mountains, from which they escape while their captors are waiting for
the ransom that does not come.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publisher, A, L, BURT, 52-53 Duane Street, New York.
16 A. L. burt's books for young people.
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
Grettir the Outlaw. A Story of Iceland. By S. Bar-
ing-Gocjld. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"This Is the boys' book of the year. That is, of course, as much as
to say that it will do for men grown as well as juniors. It is told in
simple, straightforward English, as all stories should be, and it has a
freshness and freedom which make it irresistible." — National Observer.
Two Thousand Years Ago. The Adventures of a
Roman Boy. By A. J. Church. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1. 00.
"Prof. Church has in this story sought to revivify that most interesting
period, the last days of the Roman Republic. The book is extremely en-
tertaining as well as useful; there is a wonderful freshness in the Roman
scenes and characters." — Times.
Nat the Naturalist. A Boy's Adventure in the East-
ern Seas. By George Manville Fenn. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.
Nat and his uncle Dick go on a voyage to the remoter islands of the
Eastern seas, and their adventures are told in a truthful and vastly in-
teresting fashion. The descriptions of Mr. Ebony, their black comrade,
and of the scenes of savage life, are full of genuine humor.
The Log of the Flying Fish. A Story of Peril and
Adventure. By Harry Collingwood. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.
"This story is full of even more vividly recounted adventures than those
whicli charmed so many boy readers in 'Pirate Island' and 'Congo Rovers.'
. . . There is a thrilling adventure on the precipices of Mount Everest,
when the ship floats off and providentially returns by force of 'gr«vita-
tion.' " — Academy.
The Congo Kovers. A Story of the Slave Squadron.
By Harry Collingwood. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price fl.00.
"The scene of this tale is laid on the west coast of Africa, and in the
lower reaches of the Congo; the characteristic scenery of the great river
being delineated with wonderful accuracy. Mr. Collingwood carries us off
for another cruis at sea, in 'The Congo Hovers,' and boys will need no
pressing to join the daring crew, which seeks adventures and meets with
any number of them." — The Times.
Boris the Bear Hunter. A Tale of Peter the Great and
His Times. By Fred Wishaw. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"This is a capital story. The characters are marked and lifelike, and It
is full of incident and adventure." — standard.
Michael Strogoff ; or, The Courier of the Czar. By
Jules Verne. l2mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"The story is full of originality and vigor. The characters are lifelike,
there is plenty of stirring incident, the interest is sustained throughout,
and every boy will enjoy following the fortunes of the hero." — Journal of
Education.
Mother Carey's Chicken. Her Voyage to the Unknown
Isle. By Geofge Manville Fenn. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"Undoubtedly one of the best Mr. Fenn has written. The incidents are
of thrilling interest, while the characters are drawn with a care and com-
pleteness rarely found in a boy's book," — Literary World.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publisher, A, L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, TTew York.
A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE. 17
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
Dick Sand; or, A Captain at Fifteen. By Jules
Verne. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"Jules Verne himself never constructed a more marvellous tale. It con-
tains the strongly marked features that are always conspicuous in his
stories — a racy humor, the manly vigor of his sentiment, and wholesome
moral lessons." — Christian Leader.
Erling Uhe Bold. A Tale of the Norse Sea Kings.
By R. M. Ballantyne. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"This volume makes a really fascinating book, worthy of its telling
title. There is, we venture to say, not a dull chapter in the book, not
a page which will not bear a second reading." — Guardian.
Masterman Ready; or, The Wreck of the Pacific. By
Captain Marryat. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"As racy a tale of life at sea and adventure as we have met with for
some time. . . . Altogether the sort of book that boys will revel in."
—Athenaeum.
The Green Mountain Boys. A Tale of the Early Set-
tlement of Vermont. By D. P. Thompson. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1 .
A story of very great interest for boys. In his own forcible style the
author has endeavored to show that determination and patriotic enthu-
siasm can accomplish marvellous results. This story gives a graphic ac-
count of the early settlers of Vermont, and their patriotic efforts in de-
fending their homes from the invasions of enemies.
Every Inch a Sailor. By Gordon Stables. 12mo,
cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"A story which is quite as good in its way as 'Treasure Island,' and is
full of adventure of a stirring yet most natural kind. Although it is
primarily a boys' book, it is a real godsend to the elderly reader." —
Evening Times.
The Golden Galleon. !A! Narrative of Adventure on
Her Majesty's Ship the Revenge. By Robert Leighton. 12mo, cloth,
illustrated, price $1.00.
"This story should add considerably to Mr. Leighton's high reputation.
Excellent in every respect, it contains every variety of incident. The plot
is very cleverly devised, and the types of the North Sea sailors are
capital." — The Times.
The Gorilla Hunters. A Tale of the Wilds of Africa.
By R. M. Ballantyne. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"We conscientiously belive that boys will find it capital reading. It is
full of incident and mystery, and the mystery is kept up to the last
moment. It is full of stirring adventure, daring and many escapes; and
it has a historical interest." — Times.
Gascoyne the Sandalwood Trader. By E. M. Bal-
lantyne. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"One of the best stories of seafaring life and adventure which have
appeared this season. Entertaining In the highest degree from beginning
to end, and full of adventure which is all the livelier for its close con-
nection with history." — Spectator.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publisher, A. L. BURT, 58-58 Duano Street, New York.
18 A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOE YOUNG PEOPLE.
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
Two Years Before the Mast. rA Personal Narrative of
Life at Sea. By R. H. Dana, Jr. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"One of the very best books for boys that we have seen for a long time:
its author stands far in advance of any other writer for boys as a teller
of stories of the sea." — The Standard.
The Young Rajah. A Story of Indian Life. By W.
H. G. Kingston. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"This story will place the author at once in the front rank. It is full
of life and adventure, and the interest is sustained without a break from
first to last." — Standard.
How Jack Mackenzie Won His Epaulettes. A Story
of the Crimean War. By Gordon Stables. ISmo, cloth, illustrated,
price $1.00.
"This must rank among the few undeniably good boys' books. He
will be a very dull boy indeed who lays it down without wishing that
it had gone on for at least 100 pages more." — Mail.
The King's Pardon. A Story of Land and Sea. By
Robert Overton. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"An excellent story, the interest being sustained from first to last.
This is, both in its intention and the way the story is told, one of the
best books of its kind which has come before ub this year." — Saturday
He view.
Under the Lone Star. A Story of the Bevolution in
Nicaragua. By Herbert Haynes. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price $1.00.
"We have not of late come across a historical fiction, whether intended
for boys or for men, which deserves to be so heartily and unreservedly
praised as regards plot, incidents, and spirit as this book. It is its au-
thor's masterpiece as yet." — Spectator.
Geoff and Jim: A Story of School Life. By Ismat
Thorn. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"This is a prettily told story of the life spent by two motherless bairns
at a small preparatory school. Both Geoff and Jim are very lovable char-
acters, only Jim is the more so; and the scrapes he gets into and the
trials he endures will, no doubt, interest a large circle of young readers."
—Church Times.
Jack: A Topsy Turvy Story. By C. M. Crawley-
Boevey. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"The illustrations deserve particular mention, as they add largely to
the interest of this amusing volume for children. Jack falls asleep with
his mind full «f the subject of the fishpond, and is very much surprised
presently to find himself an inhabitant of Waterworld, where he goes
through wonderful and edifying adventures. A handsome and pleasant
book." — Literary World.
Black Beauty. The Autobiography of a Horse. By
Anna Sewell. l2mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
This is the life story of a horse; how he was ill treated and well
cared for. The experiences of Black Beauty, Ginger, and Merrylegs are
extremely interesting. Wherever children are, whether boys or girls, there
this Autobiography should be. It inculcates habits of kindness to all mem-
bers of the animal creation. The literary merit of the book is excellent.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publisher, A. L. BURT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.
A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOB YOUNG PEOPLE. 19
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
Mopsa the Fairy. By Jean Ingelow. 12mo, cloth,
illustrated, price 75 cents.
"Mrs. Ingelow is, to our mind, the most charming of all living writers
for children, and 'Mopsa' alone ought to give her a kind of pre-emptive
right to the love and gratitude of our young folks. It requires genius
to conceive a purely imaginary work which must of necessity deal with
the supernatural, without running into a mere riot of fantastic absurdity;
but genius Mrs. Ingelow has, and the story of 'Jack' is as careless and
joyous, but as delicate as a picture of childhood." — Eclectic.
Carrots: Just a Little Boy. By Mrs. Molesworth.
12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"One of the cleverest and most pleasing stories it has been our good
fortune to meet with for some time. Carrots and his sister are delight-
ful little beings, whom to read about is at once to become very fond of.
A genuine children's book; we've seen 'em seize it, and read it greedily.
Children are first-rate critics, and thoroughly appreciate Walter Crane's
illustrations. ' ' — Punch.
Larry's Luck. By the author of "Miss Toosey's Mis-
sion.1' 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"It is believed that this story, by this favorably known author of
'Miss Toosey's Mission,' will be found both highly interesting and instruc-
tive to the young. Whether the readers are nine years old, or twice as
old, they must enjoy this pretty volume." — The Examiner.
A Child's Christmas: A Sketch of Boy Life. By Mrs.
Molesworth. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"This is another of those delightful juvenile stories of which this author
has written so many. It is a fascinating little book, with a charming
plot, a sweet, pure atmosphere, and teaches a wholesome moral in the
most winning manner." — Gazette.
Chunk, Fusky and Snout. A Story of Wild Pigs for
Little People. By Gerald Young. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"The story is an extremely interesting one, full of incident, told in a
quiet, healthful way, and with a great deal of pleasantly interfused
information about wild pigs and their ways. It is sure to interest both
boys and girls." — Christian Union.
Daddy's Boy. By L. T. Meade. 12mo, cloth, illus-
trated, price 75 cents.
"A charming story of child life. Little Sir Rowland is one of the
most fascinating of the misunderstood child heroes of the day. The quaint
doings and imaginings of this gentle, lovable, but highly original child are
introduced by Mrs. Meade, with all her accustomed pathos." — Guardian.
Adventures of Prince Prigio. By Andrew Lang.
12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"This book has so much charm of style and good writing that It will be
eagerly read by many other than the young folk for whom it is intended."
—Black and White.
A Flock of Four. A Story for Boys and Girls. By
Ismay Thorn. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"As a gift book for boys it is among the best new books of the kind.
The story is interesting and natural, from first to last." — Gazette.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publisher, A. L. BUKT, 52-58 Duane Street, New York.
20 A. L. BURT'S books for young people.
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
A Flat Iron for a Farthing. The Story of an Only
Son. By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"A very good book it is, full of adventure, graphically told. The style
is just what it should be; simple but not bold, full of pleasant humor,
and with some pretty touches of feeling. Like all Mrs. Ewing's tales,
it is sound, sensible, and wholesome." — Times.
The Greek Heroes. Fairy Tales for My Children. By
Charles Kingslet. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"We do not think these heroic stories have ever been more attractively
told. . . There is a deep under-current of religious feeling traceable
throughout its pages which is sure to influence young readers power-
fully. One of the children's books that will surely become a classic."—
London Seview.
Jackanapes. By Juliana Horatia Ewing. 12mo,
cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"This is one of Mrs. Ewing's charming little stories for young children.
The narrative ... is full of interest for its real grace and delicacy,
and the exquisiteness and purity of the English in which it is written."—
Boston Advertiser.
Princess and Curdie. By George Macdonald. 12mo,
cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"One of the cleverest and most pleasing stories it has been our good
fortune to meet with for some time. The Princess and Curdie are delight-
ful little beings, whom to read about is at once to become very fond of."
—Examiner.
Peter the Pilgrim. The Story of a Boy and His Pet
Rabbit. By L. T. Meade. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"Little Peter, with his soft heart, clever head, and brave spirit is no
morbid presentment of the angelic child 'too good to live,' and who is
certainly a nuisance on earth, but a charming creature, if not a por-
trait, whom it is a privilege to meet even in fiction." — The Academy.
We and the World. A Story for Boys. By Juliana
Horatia Ewing. lSmo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"The author has evidently studied the ways and tastes of children and
got at the secret of amusing them; and has succeeded in what is not
so easy a task as it may seem — in producing a really good children's
book." — Daily Telegraph.
little Ivan's Hero. A Story of Child Life. By
Helen Milman. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"We should imagine those queer folk indeed who could not read this
Story with eager interest and pleasure, be they boys or girls, young or
old. We highly commend the style in which the book is written, and the
spirit which pervades it." — World.
Dick, Marjorie and Fidge. The Wonderful Adventures
of Three Little People. By G. E. Farrow. 12mo, cloth, illust'd, price 75c.
"... To the young, for whom it is especially intended, this is a
most interesting book of adventures, well told, and a pleasant book to
take up when their wish is to while away a weary half-hour. We have
seen no prettier gift-book for a long time." — Atheneeum.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publisher, A. L. BURT, 62-58 Duane Street, New York.
A. L. BURT'S BOOKS FOR YOUNG PEOPLE.
BOOKS FOR BOYS.
A Wonder Book: For Boys and Girls. Comprising
Stories of Classical Fables. By Nathaniel Hawthorne. 12mo, cloth,
illustrated, price 75 cents.
"A beautiful little story. It will be read with delight by every child
into whose hands it is placed." — Gazette.
My Dog Plato: His Adventures and Impressions. By
H. M. Cornwall Legh. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"A capital story, and one we heartily commend to boy readers, both
gentle and simple." — Guardian.
Squib and His Friends. A Story for Children. By
Ellen Everett Green. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"This book will please by its simplicity, its tenderneBS, and its healthy
interesting motive. It is admirably written."-— Scotsman.
Tom's Opinion. The Story of a Boys' School. By
the author of " Miss Toosey's Mission." 13mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75c.
"A beautiful little story. ... It will be read with delight by
every boy into whose hands it is placed." — Pall Mall Gazette.
Robin's Ride. A Story for Children. By Ellinor
D. Adams. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"It is a first-rate boys' book. It is a capital story; the characters are
well drawn, and the incidents are perfectly natural." — Times.
Peter and Tom. A Story for Boys. By Belle S.
Cragin. 13mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
Peter and Tom were unlikely heroes, particularly in the direction of
heroism, but the proper chord was touched in each of their lives, and
through many trials and adventures they developed Christian principles and
successful business traits.
Hurse Heatherdale's Story. By Mrs. Molesworth.
ISmo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
" 'Nurse Heatherdale's Story' is all about a small boy, who was good
enough, yet was always getting into some trouble through complications
in which he was not to blame. He is an orphan, though he is cared for in
a way by relations, who are not so very rich, yet are looked on as well
fixed. After many youthful trials and disappointments he falls into a
big stroke of good luck, which lifts him and goes to make others happy."
—Commercial Advertiser.
The Last of the Huggermuggers. A Giant Story. By
Christopher P. Crauch. 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"Fresh and charming in style, with fnn that is never forced, pathos
that is always genuine, and with a distinctly wholesome purpose. This is
certain to be a favorite with boys." — Literary World.
The Hunting of the Snark. By Lewis Carroll,
author of "Alice in Wonderland." 12mo, cloth, illustrated, price 75 cents.
"Whether as regarding author or illustrator, this book is a Jewel
rarely to be found nowadays. Not a whit inferior to its predecessor in
grand extravagance of imagination, and delicious allegorical nonsense."
"-Quarterly Review.
For sale by all booksellers, or sent postpaid on receipt of price by the
publisher, A. L. BTTRT, 68-58 Duane Street, New York.
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