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OR
The Young Boatman of Pine Point
BY
HORATIO ALGER, Jr.
AUTHOR OF "THE YOuNG ACROBAT," "THE STORE BOY," " THF
TIN BOX," "TOM TRACY," " SAM'S CHANCE," "ONLY AN
IRISH BOY," " toe's LUCK," AND FORTY-NINE OTHER
RATTLING GOOD STORIES OF ADVENTURE PUBLISHED
IN THE Medal Librarv
NEW YORK
HURST & COMPANY
PUBLISHERS
Digitized by the Internet Archive
in 2010 with funding from
Boston Library Consortium IVIember Libraries
http://www.archive.org/details/gritoryoungboatmOOalge
GRIT.
CHAPTER L
GRIT.
" Grit ! "
" Well, mother, what is it? "
The speaker was a sturdy, thick-set boy of
fifteen, rather short for his age, but strongly
made. His eyes were clear and bright, his
expression was pleasant, and his face attract-
ive, but even a superficial observer could read
in it unusual firmness and strength of will.
He was evidently a boy whom it would not be
easy to subdue or frighten. He was sure to
make his way in the world, and maintain his
rights against all aggression. It was the gen-
eral recognition of this trait which had led
to the nickname, " Grit,'^ by which he was gen-
erally known. His real name was Harry
Morris, but even his mother had fallen into the
habit of calling him Grit, and his own name
actually sounded strange to him.
3
4 Grit.
" Well, mother, what is it? " he asked again,
as his mother continued to look at him in
silence, with an expression of trouble on her
face.
" I had a letter this morning, Grit.'^
" From — him f '^
" Yes, from your father.''
" Don't call him my father ! " said the boy
hastily. " He isn't my father."
" He is your stepfather — and my husband,"
said Mrs. Morris soberly.
" Yes, worse luck for you ! Well, what does
he say? "
" He's coming home."
An expression of dismay quickly gathered on
the boy's face.
" How can that be? His term isn't out."
" It is shortened by good behavior, and so
he comes out four months before his sentence
would have expired."
" I wouldn't have him here, mother," said
Grit earnestly. "He will only worry and
trouble you. We are getting on comfortably
now without him."
" Yes, thanks to my good, industrious boy."
" Oh, don't talk about that," said Grit, who
always felt embarrassed when openly praised.
' Grit. S
" But it is true, Grit. But for the money
you make in your boat, I might have to go to
the poorhouse."
" You will never go while I live, mother,"
said Grit quickly.
" No, Grit, I feel sure of that. It seems
wicked to rejoice in your father's misfortune
and disgrace ''
^^ Not my father," interrupted Grit.
" Mr. Brandon, then. As I was saying, it
seems wick^ed to feel relieved by his imprison-
ment, but I can't help it."
"Why should you try to help it? He has
made you a bad hTjsband, and only brought
you linhappiness. How did you ever come to
marry him, mother? "
" I did it for the best, as I thought, Grit. I
was left a widow when you were four years
old. I had this cottage, to be sure, and about
two thousand dollars, but the interest of that
sum at six per cent, only amounted to a hun-
dred and twenty dollars, and I was not brave
and self-reliant like some, so when Mr. Bran-
don asked me to marry him, I did so, thinking
that he would give us a good home, be a father
to you, and save us from all pecuniary care or
anxiety."
6 Grit.
^ You were pretty soon undeceived, mother."
" No, not soon. Your stepfather had a good
mercantile position in Boston, and we occupied
a comfortable cottage in Newton. For some
yeari:^ all went well, but then I began to see a
change for the worse in him. He became fond
of dri&fe^ was no longer attentive to business,
picked wp bad associates, and eventually lost
his position. This was when you were ten
years of age. Then he took possession of my
little capital and went into business for him-
self. But his old habits clung to him, and of
course there was small chance of success. He
kept up for about a year, however, and then
he failed, and the creditors took every-
thing ''
" Except this house, mother."
" Yes, this house was fortunately settled
upon me, so that my husband could not get
hold of it. When we were turned out of our
home in Newton, it proved a welcome refuge
for us. It was small, plain, humble, but still
it gave us a home."
" It has been a happy home, mother — that
is, ever since Mr. Brandon left us."
" Yes ; we have lived plainly, but I have had
Grit. 7
jou, and you have always been a comfort to
me. You were always a good boy, Grit."
" I^m not quite an angel, mother. Ask Phil
Courtney what he thinks about it,'^ said Grit,
smiling.
" He is a bad, disagreeable boy," said Mrs.
Brandon warmly.
" So I think, mother ; but Phil, on the other
hand, thinks I am a low, vulgar boy, unworthy
of associating with him."
^^ I don't want you to associate with him,
Grit."
" I don't care to, mother ; but we are getting
away from the subject. How did Mr. Brandon
behave after you moved here? "
" He did nothing to earn money, but man-
aged to obtain liquor at the tavern, and some-
times v/ent off for three or four days or a
week, leaving me in ignorance of his where-
abouts. At last he did not come back at all,
and I heard that he had been arrested for
forgery, and was on trial. The trial was
quickly over, and he was sentenced to im-
prisonment for a term of years. I saw him be-
fore he was carried to prison, but he treated
me so rudely that I have not felt it my duty to
8 Grit.
visit him since. Gradually I resumed your
father's name, and I have been known as Mrs.
Morris, though my legal name of course is
Brandon."
"It is a pit}^ you ever took the name,
mother,-- said Grit hastily.
" I agree Avith you, Grit ; but I cannot undo
the past."
" The court ought to grant you a divorce
from such a man."
" Perhaps I might obtain one, but it would
cost money, and we have no money to spend on
such things."
" If you had one," said Grit thoughtfully,
" Mr. Brandon would no longer have any claim
upon you." r
" That is true."
" You said you had a letter from him.
When did you receive it? "
" While you were out, this morning. Mr.
Wheeler saw it in the post-office, and brought
it along, thinking we might not have occasion
to call."
" May I see the letter, mother? "
" Certainly, Grit ; I have no secrets from
you."
Grit. 9
Mrs. Morris — to call her by tlie name she
preferred — took from the pocket of her dress a
letter in a yellow envelope, which, however,
was directed in a neat, clerky hand, for Mr.
Brandon had been carefnlly prepared for mer-
cantile life, and had once been a bookkeeper,
and wrote a'handsome, flowing hand.
'^ Here it is, Grit.''
Grit opened the letter, and read as follows :
a i
-Prison, May 10.
" ' My Affectionate Wife : I have no doubt
you will be overjoyed to hear that my long im-
prisonment is nearly over, and that on the
fifteenth, probablj^, I shall be set free, and can
leave these cursed walls behind me. Of course,
I shall lose no time in seeking out my loving
wife, who has not deigned for years to remem-
ber that she has a husband. You might at
least have called now and then, to show some
interest in me.'
"Why should you?" ejaculated Grit indig-
nantly. " He has only illtreated you, spent
your inoney, and made you unhappy."
'' You think, then, I was right in staying
away. Grit?" asked his mother.
10 Grit.
" Certainly I do. You don't pretend to love
him?''
" No, I only married him at his urgent re-
quest, thinking I was doing what was best for
you. It was a bad day's work for me. I could
have got along much better alone."
" Of course you could, mother. Well, I will
read the rest:
" ' However, you are my wife still, and owe
me some reparation for your long neglect. I
shall come to Pine Point as soon as I can,
and it is hardly necessary to remind you that
I shall be out of money, and shall want you to
stir round and get me some, as I shall want to
buy some clothes and other things."
" How does he think you are to supply him
with money, when he has left you to take care
of yourself all these years? " again burst from
Grit's indignant lips.
He read on :
"^How is the cub? Is he as independent
and saucy as ever? I am afraid you have al-
lowed him to do as he pleases. He needs a
man's hand to hold him in check and train him
up properly.' "
Grit. II
" Heaven help you if Mr. Brandon is to
have the training of you, Grit ! " exclaimed his
mother.
" He'll have a tough job if he tries it ! " said
Grit. " He'll find me rather larger and
stronger than when he went to prison."
" Don't get into any conflict with him, Grit,"
said his mother, a new alarm seizing her.
" I won't if I can help it, mother ; but I don't
mean to have him impose upon me."
CHAPTEB II.
THE YOUNG BOATMAN.
Pine Point was situated on the Kennebec
River, and from its height overlooked it, so
that a person standing on its crest could scan
the river for a considerable distance up and
down. There was a small grove of pine-trees
at a little distance, and this had given the
point its name. A hundred feet from the brink
stood the old-fashioned cottage occupied by
Mrs. Morris. It had belonged, in a former
generation, to an uncle of hers, who, dying un-
married, had bequeathed it to her. Perhaps
12 Grit.
half an acre was attached to it. There had
been more, but it had been sold off.
When Grit and his mother came to Chester
to live — it was in this township that Pine
Point was situated — she had but little of her
two thousand dollars remaining, and when her
husband was called to expiate his offense
against the law in prison, there were but ten
dollars in the house. Mrs. Morris was fortu-
nate enough to secure a boarder, whose board-
money paid nearly all their small household
expenses for three years, the remainder being
earned by her own skill as a dressmaker; but
when the boarder went to California, never to
return. Grit was already thirteen years old,
and hit upon a way of earning money.
On the opposite bank of the Kennebec was
the village of Portville, but there was no
bridge at that point. So Grit bought a boat
for a few dollars, agreeing to pay for it in
intalments, and established a private ferry be-
tween the two places. His ordinary charge
for rowing a passenger across — the distance
being half a mile — was ten cents; but if it
were a child, or a poor person, he was willing
to receive five, and he took parties of four at
a reduction.
Grit. 13
It was an idea of liis own, but it paid. Grit
himself was rather surprised at the number of
persons who availed themselves of his ferry.
Sometimes he found at the end of the day that
he had received in fares over a dollar, and one
Fourth of July, when there was a special cele-
bration in Portville, he actually made three
dollars. Of course, he had to work pretty
hard for it, but the young boatman's arms
were strong, as was shown by his sturdy
stroke.
Grit was now fifteen, and he could reflect
with pride that for two years he had been
able to support his mother in a comfortable
manner, so that she had wanted for nothing —
that is, for nothing that could be classed as
a comfort. Luxuries he had not been able to
supply, but for them neither he nor his mother
cared. They were content with their plain way
of living.
But if his stepfather were coming home, Grit
felt that his income would no longer be ade-
quate to maintain the household. Mr. Bran-
don ought to increase the family income, but,
knowing what he and his mother did of his
ways, he built no hope upon that. It looked as
14 Grit.
if their quiet home happiness was likely to be
rudely broken in -upon by the threatened in-
vasion.
" Well, mother," said Grit, '^ I must get to
work.''
" You haven't finished your dinner, my
son."
" Your news has spoiled my appetite, mother.
However, I dare say I'll make up for it at
supper."
" I'll save a piece of meat for you to eat
then. You work so hard that you need meat to
keep up your strength."
" I haven't had to work much this morning,
mother, worse luck ! I only earned twenty
cents. People don't seem inclined to travel
to-day."
" Never mind. Grit. I've got five dollars in
the house."
" Save it for a rainy day, mother. The day
is only half over, and I may have good luck
this afternoon."
As Grit left the house with his quick, firm
step, Mrs. Morris looked after him with
blended affection and pride.
" What a good boy he is ! " she said to her-
Grit. 15
self. " He is a boy that any mother might be
proud of."
And so he was. Our young hero was not
only a strong, manly boy, but there was some-
thing very attractive in his clear eyes and
frank smile, browned though his skin was by
constant exposure to the sun and wind. He
was a general favorite in the town, or, rather,
in the two towns, for he was as well known in
Portville as he was in Chester.
I have said he was a general favorite, but
there was one at least who disliked him. This
was Phil Courtney, a boy about his own age,
the son of an ex-president of the Chester bank,
a boy who considered himself of great conse-
quence, and socially far above the young boat-
man. He lived in a handsome house, and had
a good supply of pocket-money, though he was
always grumbling about his small allowance.
It by no means follows that money makes a
boy a snob, but if he has any tendency that
way, it is likely to show itself under such cir-
cumstances.
Now, it happened that Phil had a cousin
staying at his house as a visitor, quite a pretty
girl, in whose eyes, he liked to appear to ad-
lU
Crit.
* vantage. As Grit reached the shore, where he
had tied his boat, they were seen approaching
the same point.
" I wonder if Phil is going to favor me with
Lis patronage/' thought Grit, as his eyes fell
upon them.
" Here, you boatman ! '' called out Phil, in a
tone of authority. " We want to go over to
Portville.''
Grit's ej'^es danced with merriment, as he
answered gravely:
" I have no objection to your going.''
The girl laughed merrily, but Phil frowned,
for his dignity was wounded by Grit's flip-
panc3^
" I am not in the habit of considering
vrhether you have any objection or not," he
said haughtily.
" Don't be a goose, Phil ! " said his cousin.
" The boy is in fun."
" I would rather he would not make fun of
me," said Phil.
" I won't, then," said Grit, smiling.
" Ahem I you may convey us across," said
Phil.
" If you please," added the young lady,
with a smile.
Grit. 17
" She is very good-looking, and five times as
polite as Phil," thought Grit, fixing his e^^es
admiringly upon the pretty face of Marion
Clarke, as he afterward learned her name to
be.
" I shall be glad to have you as a •■ pass-
enger,'' said our hero, but he looked at Marion,
not at Phil.
" Thank you."
* If you've got through with your compli-
ments," said Phil impatiently, " we'd better
start."
" I am ready," said Grit. " May I help you
in? " he asked of Marion.
" Yes, thank you."
" It is quite unnecessary. I can assist you,"
said Phil, advancing.
But he was too late, for Marion had already
availed herself of the young boatman's prof-
fered aid.
" Thank you," said Marion again, pleas-
antly, as she took her seat in the stern.
" Why didn't you wait for me? " demanded
Phil crossly, as he took his seat beside her.
" I didn't want to be always troubling you,
cousin Phil," said Marion, with a coquettish
i8 Grit.
glance at Grit, which her cousin did not at all
relish.
" Don't notice him so much/' he said, in a
low voice. " He's only a poor boatman."
" He is very good-looking, I think," said
Marion.
Grit's back was turned, but he heard both
question and answer, and his cheeks glowed
with pleasure at the young lady's speech,
though it was answered by a contemptuous
sniff from Phil.
" I don't admire your taste, Marion," he
said.
" Hush, he'll hear you," she whispered.
^* What's his name? "
By way of answering, Phil addressed Grit
in a condescending tone.
"Well, Grit, how is business to-day?"
" Rather quiet, thank you."
" You see, he earns his living by boating
explained Phil, with the manner of one wh©
was speaking of a very inferior person.
"How much have you earned now?" he
asked further.
"Only twenty cents," answered Grit; "but
I suppose,"* he added, smiling, " I suppose you
iflitead to pay me liberally."
Grit. 19
" I mean to pay you your regular fare/^ said
Phil, who was not of a liberal disposition.
" Thank you ; I ask no more."
" Do you row across often? " asked Marion.
" Sometimes I make eight or ten trips in a
day. On the Fourth of July I went fifteen
times.'^
'' How strong you must be ! "
" Pooh ! I could do more than that," said
Phil loftily, unwilling that Grit should be ad-
mired for anything.
'' Oh, I know you're remarkable," said his
cousin dryly.
Just then the wind, which was unusually
strong, took PhiPs hat, and it blew off to a
considerable distance.
" My hat's off ! " exclaimed Phil, in excite-
ment. " Row after it, quick. It's a new Pana-
ma, and cost ten dollars."
CHAPTER III.
THE LOST HAT.
Grit complied with the request of his pas-
senger, and rowed after Phil's hat. But there
20
Grit.
was a strong current, and it was not without
considerable trouble that he at last secured it.
But, alas I the new hat, with its bright ribbon,
was well soaked when it was fished out of the
water.
" It's mean," ejaculated Phil, lifting it with
an air of disgust. ^' Just my luck."
"Are you so unlucky, then?" asked his
cousin Marion, with a half smile.
" I should say so. What do you call this? "
" A wet hat.''
" How am I ever to wear it? It will drip all
over ray clothes."
" I think you had better buy a common one
in Portville, and leave this one here to dry."
" How am I going round Portville bare-
headed?" inquired Phil crossly.
" Shall I lend you my hat? " asked Marion.
"Wouldn't I look like a fool, going round
the streets with a girl's hat on? "
"Well, you are the best judge of that," an-
swered Marion demurely.
Grit laughed, as the young lady glanced at
him with a smile.
" What are you laughing at, you boatman? "
snarled Phil,
Grit. ^ 21
" I beg your pardon," said Grit good-
naturedly; '^ I know it must be provoking to
have your hat wet. Can I help you in any
way? If you will give me the money, and re-
main in the boat, I will run up to Davis, the
hatter's, and get you a new hat.''
" How can you tell my size? " asked Phil,
making no acknowledgment for the offer.
" Then I will lend you my hat to go up
yourself.''
Phil's lip curled, as if he considered that
there would be contamination in suCh a pleb-
eian hat. However, as Marion declared it
would be the best thing to do, he suppressed
his disdain, and, without a word of thanks, put
Grit's hat on his head.
" Come with me, Marion," he said.
" No, Phil ; I will remain here with
Mr. ," and she turned inquiringly toward
the young boatman.
" Grit," he suggested.
" Mr. Grit," she said, finishing the sentence.
" Just as you like. I admire your taste,"
said Phil, with a sneer.
As he walked away, Marion turned to the
young boatman.
22 Grit.
" Is your name really Grit? '^ she asked.
" No ; people call me so."
" I can understand why/' she answered with
a smile. " You look — gritty.''
" If I do, I hope it isn't anything disagree-
able," responded our hero.
" Oh, no," said Marion; " quite the contrary.
I like to see boys that won't allow themselves
to be imposed upon."
^^ I don't generally allow myself to be im-
posed upon."
" What is your real name? "
" Harry Morris."
" I suppose you and Phil know each other
very well? "
" We have known each other a long time, but
we are not very intimate friends."
" I don't think Phil has any intimate
friends," said Marion thoughtfully. He — I
don't think he gets on very well with the other
boys."
" He wants to boss them," said Grit bluntly.
" Yes ; I expect that is it. He's my cousin,
you know."
"Is he? I don't think you are much alike."
" Is that remark a compliment to me — or
him?" asked Marion, laughing.
Grit. 23
" To you, decidedly.''
" Well, Phil can be very disagreeable when
he sets out to be. I should not want to be that,
you know."
" You couldn't," said Grit, with an admiring
glance.
" That's a compliment," said Marion. " But
you're mistaken. I can be disagreeable when
I set out to be. I expect Phil finds me so
sometimes."
" I wouldn't."
" You know how to flatter as well as to row,
Mr. Grit. It's true. I tease Phil awfully some-
times."
By this time Phil came back with a new
hat on his head, holding Grit's in the tips of
his fingers, as if it would contaminate him.
He pitched it into Grit's lap, saying shortly:
" There's your hat."
" Upon my word, Phil, you're polite," said
his cousin. " Can't you thank Mr. Grit? "
" Mr. Grit ! " repeated Phil contemptuously.
*'' Of course I thank him.''
" You're welcome," answered Grit dryly.
" Here's your fare ! " said Phil, taking out
two dimes, and offering them to the young
boatman.
24 Grit.
" Thank you.''
" Phil, you ought to pay something extra
for the loan of the hat/' said Marion, " and
the delay."
With evident reluctance Phil took a nickel
from his vest pocket, and offered it to Grit.
^' No, thank you ! " said Grit, drawing back,
" I wouldn't be willing to take anything for
that. I've found it very agreeable to wait,"
and he glanced significantly at Marion.
" I suppose I am to consider that another
compliment," said the young lady, with a co-
quettish glance.
"What, has he been complimenting you?"
asked Phil jealousy.
" Yes, and it was very agreeable, as I got
no compliments from jou. Good afternoon,
Mr. Grit. I hope you will row us back by and
by."
" I hope so, too," said the young boatmauy
bowing.
" Look here, Marion," said Phil, as they
walked away, " you take altogether too much
notice of that fellow."
"Why do I? I am sure he is a very nice
boy."
Grit. 25
^^ He is a common working boy ! '' snapped
Phil. " He lives with his mother in a poor
hut upon the bluff, and makes his living by
boating."
"' I am sure that is to his credit."
^' Oh, yes, I suppose it is. So's a ditch-digger
engaged in a creditable employment, but you
don't treat him as an equal."
" I should be willing to treat Grit as an
equal.^ He is very good-looking, don't you
think so, Phil?"
" Good-looking I So is a cow good-looking."
" I've seen some cows that were very good-
looking," answered Marion, with a mischievous
smile. '' I suppose Grit and you are well ac-
quainted."
" Oh, I know him to speak to h^'m," returned
Phil loftily. " Of course, I couldn't be inti-
mate with such a boy."
^' I was thinking," said Marion, " it would be
nice to invite him round to the house to play
croquet with us."
" Invite Grit Morris? " gasped Phil.
"Yes, why not?"
" A boy like him ! "
" Why, wouldn't he behave well? '^
26 Grit.
" Oh, I suppose he would, but he isn't in our
circle."
" Then it's a pity he isn't. He's the most
agreeable boy I have met in Chester."
" You say that only to provoke me.'^
" No, I don't. I mean it."
" I won't invite him," said Phil doggedly.
" I am surprised that you should think of such
a thing."
" Propriety, Miss Marion, propriety ! " said
the young lady, in a tone of mock dignity, turn-
ing up the whites of her eyes. " That's just
the way my governess used to talk. It's well
I've got so experienced a young gentleman to
look after me, and see that I don't stumble into
any impropriety."
Meanwhile, Grit sat in his boat, waiting for
a return passenger, and as he waited he
thought of the young lady he had just ferried
over.
" I can't see how such a fellow as Phil Court-
ney can have such a nice cousin," he said to
himself. " She's very pretty, too ! She isn't
stuck-up, like him. I hope I shall get the
chance of rowing them back."
He waited about ten minutes, when he s'aw a
Grit. IL^J
gentleman and a little boy approaching the
river.
" Are you the ferry-boy? " asked the gentle-
man.
" Yes, sir.''
" I heard there was a boy who would row me
across. I want to go to Chester with my little
boy. Can you take us over? "
" Yes, sir; I shall be happy to do so."
"Are you ready to start?''
" Yes, sir, just as soon as you get into the
boat."
" Come, Willie," said the gentleman, ad-
dressing his little boy, " won't you like to ridfe
over in the boat? "
" Oh, yes, papa," answered Willie eagerly.
" I hope you are well acquainted with row-
ing, and careful," said Mr. Jackson, for this
was his name. " I am rather timid about the
water, for I can't swim."
"• Yes, sir, I am as much at home on the
water as on the land. I've been rowing every
day for the last three years."
The gentleman and his little boy sat down,
and Grit bent to his oars.
28 Grit.
CHAPTER IV.
A BOY IN THE WATER.
Me. Jackson was a slender, dark-complex-
ioned man of forty, or thereabouts. He was
fashionably dressed, and had the air of one
who lives in a city. He had an affable manner,
and seemed inclined to be social.
" Is this your business, ferrying passengers
across the river? " he asked of Grit.
" Yes, sir," answered the young boatman.
"Does it pay?'' was the next inquiry — an
important one in the eyes of a city man.
" Yes, sir ; I make more in this way than I
could in any other."
"How much, for instance?''
" From five to seven dollars„ Once — it was
Fourth of July week — I made nearly ten dol-
lars."
" That is a great deal more than I made at
your age," said Mr. Jackson.
" You look as if you made more now," said
Grit, smiling.
Grit. 29
" Yes,'' said the passenger, with an answer-
ing smile. '^ I am afraid I couldn-t get along
on that sum now.''
" Do you live in the city? " asked Grit, with
a sudden impulse.
" Yes, I live in what I regard as the city. I
mean New York."
" It must be a fine place," said the young
boatman thoughtfull}^
" Yes, it is a fine place, if you have money
enough to live handsomely. Did you ever hear
of Wall Street?"
" Yes, sir."
" I am a Wall Street broker. I commenced
as a boy in a broker's office. I don't think I
was any better off than you at your age —
certainly I did not earn so much money."
" But you didn't have a mother to take care
of, did you, sir? "
^^ No; do you?"
" Yes, sir."
" You are a good boy to work for your
mother. My poor boy has no mother ; " and
the gentleman looked sad. " What is your
name? "
"Grit"
30 Grit.
" Is that your real name? "
" No, sir, but everybody calls me so."
" For a good reason, probably. Willie, do
you like to ride in the boat? '^
" Yes, papa,^' answered the little boy, his
bright eyes and eager manner showing that he
spoke the truth.
" Grit,'' said Mr. Jackson, " I see we are
nearly across the river. Unless you are due
there at a specified time, you may stay out,
and we will row here and there, prolonging our
trip. Of course, I will increase your pay."
" I shall be very willing, sir," said Orit.
" My boat is my own, and my time also, and I
have no fixed hours for starting from either
side."
" Good ! Then we can continue our conver-
sation. Is there a good hotel in Chester? "
" Quite a good one. sir. They keep summer
boarders."
" That was the point I wished to inquire
about. Willie and I have been staying with
friends in Portville, but they are expecting
other visitors, and I have a fancy for staying
a while on your side of the river — that is, if
you live in Chester."
Grit. 31
" Yes, sir ; our cottage is on yonder bluff —
Pine Point, it is called."
" Then I think I will call at the hotel, and
see whether I can obtain satisfactory accom-
modations."
"Are you taking a vacation?" asked Grit,
with curiosity.
"Yes; the summer is a dull time in Wallj
Street, and my partner attends to everything.
By and by I shall return, and give him a
chance to go away."
" Do people make a great deal of money in
Wall Street? " asked Grit.
" Sometimes, and sometimes they lose a
great deal. I have known a man who kept his
span of horses one summer reduced to accept a
small clerkship the next. If a broker does not
speculate, he is not so liable to such changes of
fortune. What is your real name, since Grit
is only a nickname? "
" My real name is Harry Morris."
" Have you any brothers or sisters?"
" No, sir; I am an only child."
" Were you born here? "
" No, sir; I was born in Boston."
" Have you formed any plans for the future?
32 Grit.
You won't be a boatman all your life, I pre-
sume? ''
" I hope notj sir. It will do well enough for
the present, and I am glad to have such a
chance of earning a living for my mother and
myself; but when I grow up I should like to go
to the city, and get into business there."
'' All the country boys are anxious to seek
their fortune in the city. In many cases they
would do better to stay at home."
" Were you born in the city, sir? '' asked
Grit shrewdly.
" No ; I was born in the country."
" But you didn't stay there."
" No ; you have got me there. I suppose it
was better for me to go to the city, and per-
haps it may be for you ; but there is no hurry.
You wouldn't have a chance to earn six dol-
lars a week in the city, as you say you do here.
Besides, it would cost much more for you and
your mother to live."
" I suppose so, sir. I am contented to re-
main where I am at present."
" Is your father dead? "
" Yes, sir.'*
" It is a great loss. Then your mother is a
widow? "
Grit. 33
" I wish she were," said Grit hastily.
" But she must be, if your father is dead,"
said Mr. Jackson.
" No, sir ; she married again."
"Oh, there is a stepfather, then? Don't
you and he get along well together? "
" There has been no chance to quarrel for
nearly five years."
"Why?"
" Because he has been in prison."
" Excuse me if I have forced upon you a
disagreeable topic," said the passenger, in a
tone of sympathy. " His term of confinement
will expire, and then he can return to you."
" That is just what troubles me, sir," said
Grit bluntly. " We are expecting him in a' day
or two, and then our quiet life will be at an
end."
" Will he make things disagreeable for
you?"
" Yes, sir."
"At least, you will not have to work so
hard."
" Yes, sir. I shall have to work harder, for
I shall have to support him, too."
" Won't he be willing to work? "
34 Grit.
," No, sir, he is very lazy, and if he can live
without work, he will."
^^ That is certainly unfortunate.'^
" It is worse than having no father at all,''
said Grit bluntly. '' I don't care to have him
remain in prison, if he will only keep away
from us, but I should be glad if I could never
set eyes upon him again."
" Well, my boy, you must bear the trial as
well as you can. We all have our trials, and
yours comes in the shape of a disagreeable step-
father "
He did not finish the sentence, for there was
a startling interruption.
Mr. Jackson and Grit had been so much en-
gaged in their conversation that they had not
watched the little boy. Willie had amused
himself in bending over the side of the boat,
and dipping his little fingers in the rippling
water. With childish imprudence he leaned
too far, and fell head first into the swift
stream.
A splash told the startled father what had
happened.
" Good Heaven ! " he exclaimed, " my boy is
■gverboard, and I cannot swim."
Grit. 35
He had scarcely got the words out of his
month than Grit was in the water, swimming
for the spot where the boy went down, now a
rod or two distant, for the boat had been borne
onward by the impulse of the oars.
The young boatman was an expert swimmer.
It would naturally have been expected, since
so much of his time had been spent on the
river. He had often engaged in swimming-
matches with his boy companions, and there
was no one who could surpass him in speed or
endurance.
He struck out boldly, and, as Willie rose to
the surface for the second time, he seized him
by the arm, and, turning, struck out for the
boat. The little boy struggled, and this made
his task more difficult;, but Grit was strong and
wary, and, holding Willie in a strong grasp,
he soon gained the boat.
Mr. Jackson leaned over, and drew the boy,
dripping, into its safe refuge.
" Climb in, too. Grit ! " he said.
" No, I shall upset it. If you will row to the
shore, I will swina there."
" Very well."
Mr, Jackson was not wholly a stranger to
36 Grit.
the use of oars, and the shore was very near.
In three minutes the boat touched the bank,
and almost at the same time Grit clambered
on shore.
" You have saved my boy's life/' said Mr.
JacksoUj his voice betraying the strong emo-
tion he felt. " I shall not forget it."
" Willie is cold ! " said the little boy.
" Our house is close by/' said Grit. " Let
us take him there at once, and mother will
take care of him, and dry his clothes."
The suggestion was adopted, and Mr. Jack-
son and his two young companions were soon
standing at the door of the plain cottage on the
bluff.
When his mother admitted them, Grit no-
ticed that she looked disturbed, and he seized
the first chance to ask her if anvthinsj were the
matter.
" Your stepfather has come ! " she answered.
CHAPTER V.
THE STEPFATHER.
Grit was disagreeably surprised at the news
of Mr. Brandon's arrival, and he looked about
Grit. 37
him in the expectation of seeing his unwelcome
figure, in vain.
" Where is he, mother? " the boy inquired.
" Gone to the tavern/' she answered sig-
nificantly.
" Did you give him any money? "
" I gave him a dollar," she replied sadly.
" It is easy to tell how it will be spent."
Grit had no time to inquire further at that
time, for he was assisting his mother in neces-
sary attentions to their guests, having hur-
riedly exchanged his own wet clothes for dry
ones.
Mr. Jackson seemed very grateful to Mrs,
Morris for her attention to Willie. She found
an old suit of Grit's, worn by him at the age
of eight, and dressed Willie in it, while his
own wet suit was being dried. The litttle boy
presented a comical spectacle, the suit being
three or four sizes too large for him. '
" I don't like it," he said. " It is too big."
" So it is, Willie," said his father ; '' but you
won't have to wear it long. You would catch
your death of cold if you wore your wet
clothes. How long will it take to dry his
clothes, Mrs. Morris? "
38 Grit.
" Two or three hours at least," answered the
widow.
" I have a great mind to go back to Portville,
and get a change of garments/' said the father.
" That would be the best thing, probably."
" But I should have to burden you with
Willie ; for I should need to take Grit with me
to ferry me across."
" It will be no trouble, sir. I will take
good care of him."
" Willie, will you stay here while I go after
your other clothes?" asked Mr. Jackson.
Willie readily consented, especially after
Grit had brought him a picture-book to look
over. Then he accompanied the father to the
river, and they started to go across. While
they were gone, Mr. Brandon returned to the
cottage. His flushed face and unsteady gait
showed that he had been drinking. He lifted
the latch, and went in.
When he saw Willie sitting in a small chair
beside his wife, he gazed at the child in aston-
ishment.
"Is that the cub?" he asked doubtfully.
*• Seems to me he's grown smaller since I saw
him."
Grit. 3cj
" 1 ain't a cub," said Willie indignantly.
" Oh ! yer ain't a cab, hey? " repeated Bran'
don mockingly.
" No, I ain't. My name is Willie Jackson,
and my papa lives in New York."
" What is the meaning of this, Mrs. Bran-
don? " asked the inebriate. " Where did you
pick up this youngster?"
His wife explained in a few words.
" I thought it wasn't the cub," said Mr.
Brandon indistinctly. *' Where is he? "
" He has gone to row Mr. Jackson over to
Portville."
" I say, Mrs. B., does he earn much money
that way?"
" He earns all the money that supports us,"
answered his wife coldly.
" I must see to that," said Brandon un-
steadily. " He must bring me his money every
night — do you hear, Mrs. B.? — must bring me
his money every night."
" To spend for liquor, I suppose? " she re-
sponded bitterly.
" I'm a gentleman. My money — that is, his
money is my money. D'ye understand? "
" I understand only too well, Mr. Brandon."
40 Grit.
" That's all right. I feel tired. Guess I'll
go and lie down.''
To his wife's relief he went up-stairs, and
was soon stretched out on the bed in a drunken
sleep.
" I am glad he is out of the way. I should
be ashamed to have Mr. Jackson see him/'
thought Grit's mother, or Mrs. Brandon, as we
must now call her.
" Who is that man? " asked Willie anxiouly.
" His name is Brandon," answered Grit's
mother.
" He isn't a nice man. I don't like him."
Mrs. Brandon said nothing. What could she
say? If she had spoken as she felt, she w^ould
have been compelled to agree with the boy.
Yet this man was her husband, and was likely
to be to her a daily source of anxiety and an-
noyance.
" I am afraid Grit and he won't agree," she
thought anxiously. " Oh ! why did he ever
come back? For the last five years w^e have
been happy. We have lived plainly and
humbly, but our home has been peaceful.
Now, Heaven knows what trouble is in store
for us,"
Grit. 41
Half an hour later Mr. Jackson and Grit re-
turned.
CHAPTER VI.
grit's recompense.
No time was lost in arraying Willie iii
clothes more suitable for him. The little boy
was glad to lay aside Grit's old suit, which
certainly was not very becoming to him.
'' Are we going now, papa? " asked the little
boy.
" Yes, Willie ; but first I must express to
this good lady my great thanks for her kind-
ness.'^
" I have done but little, sir," said Mrs. Bran-
- don; '' but tb^t little I was very glad to do."
" I am sure of that," said the visitor cor-
dially.
'^ If you remain in the neighborhood, I shall
hope to see your little boy again, and your-
self, also."
" I will come," said Willie promptly.
" He answers for himself," said his father,
smiling, " and he will keep his promise. Now,
42 Grit.
Grit," he said, turning to the young boatman,
** I will ask you to accompany me to the hotel."
" Certainly, sir."
When they had passed from the cottage, Mr.
Jackson turned to the boy and grasped his
hand.
"I have not yet expressed to ^ou my ob-
ligations," he said, with emotion, " for the
great service you have done me — the greatest
in the power of any man, or boy."
" Don't speak of it, sir," said Grit modestly.
" But I must. You have saved the life of my
darling boy."
" I don't know, sir."
" But I do. I cannot swim a stroke, and but
for your prompt bravery, he would have
drowned before my eyes,"
Grit could not well contradict this state-
ment, for it was incontestably true.
" It was lucky I could swim," he answered.
" Yes, it was. It seems providential that I
should have had with me so brave a boy, when
Willie's life was in peril. It will be something
that you will remember with satisfaction to the
end of your own life."
" Yes, sir, there is no doubt of that," an-
swered Grit sincerely.
Grit. 43
" I shudder to think what a sad blank my
own life would have been if I had lost my dear
boy. He is my only child, and for this reason
I should have missed him the more. Your
brave act is one that I cannot fitly re-
ward "
" I don't need any reward, Mr. Jackson,''
said Grit hastily.
" I am sure you do not. You do not look
like a mercenary boy. But, for all that, I owe
it to myself to see that so great a favor does not
go unacknowledged. My brave boy, accept this
wallet and what it contains, not as the pay-
ment of a debt, but as the first in'the series of
my acknowledgments to you."
As he spoke, he put into the hand of the
young boatman a wallet.
" I am very much obliged to you, Mr. Jack-
son," said Grit, " but I am not sure that I
ought to take this." ^
" Then let me decide for you," said the bro-
ker, smiling. ^^ I am older, and may be pre-
sumed to have more judgment."
" It will seem as if I took pay for saving
Willie from drowning."
" If you did, it would be perfectly proper.
44 Grit.
But you forget that I have had the use of joar
boat and your own services for the greater
part of the afternoon."
'' I presume you have paid me more than I
ask for such services."
" Very likely/' answered Mr. Jackson. " In
fact, outside of my obligations to you, I have
formed a good opinion of a boy who Tvorks
hard and faithfully to support his mother. I
was a poor boy once, and I have not forgotten
how to sympathize with those who are begin-
ning the conflict with narrow means. M^'nd,
Grit, I don't condole with you. You have good
health and strong hands, and in our favored
country there is no reason why, w^hen you
reach my age, you may not be equally well
off."
" I wish I might — for mother's sake," said
Grit, his face lighting up with hope.
" I shall see more of you while I am here,
but I may as well say now that I mean to
bear you in mind, and wish you to come to
me, either here or in the city, when you stand
in need of advice or assistance."
. Grit expressed his gratitude. Mr. Jackson
selected a room at the hotel, and promised to
Grit. 45
take up his quarters there the next day. Then
Grit once more took up his oars and ferried
"Willie and his father across the river.
It was not for some time, therefore, that he
had a chance to examine the wallet which had
been given him.
CHAPTER VII.
GRIT ASTONISHES PHIL.
Grit was not wholly without curiosity, and,
as was natural, he speculated as to the amount
which the wallet contained. When Mr. Jack-
son and Willie had left him, he took it out of
his pocket and opened it.
He extracted a roll of bills and counted them
over. There were ten five-dollar bills, and ten
dollars in notes of a smaller denomination.
" Sixty dollars ! -^ ejaculated Grit, with a
thrill of pleasure. ^' I never was so rich in all
my life.''
He felt that the sum was too large for him
to accept, and he was half tempted to run after
Mr. Jackson and say so. But quick reflection
satisfied him that the generous New Yorker
wished him to retain it, and, modest though
46 Grit.
he was, he was conscious that in saving the
little boy's life he had placed his passenger
under an obligation which a much larger sum
would not have overpaid. Besides, he saw two
new passengers walking toward his boat, who
doubtless wished to be ferried across the river.
They were Phil Courtney and Marion Clarke.
" We are just in time, Mr. Grit," said the
young lady, smiling.
'^ Yes, my good fellow," said Phil con-
descendingly, " we will employ you again."
" You are very kind," answered Grit, with a
smile of amusement.
" I like to encourage you," continued Phil,
who was not very quick to interpret the looks
of others."
Grit looked at Marion, and noticed that she,
too, looked amused.
" Have you had any passengers since we
came over? " asked Phil, in a patronizing tone.
He was quite ready to employ his old school-
mate, provided he would show proper grati-
tude, and be suitably impressed by his con-
descension.
" I have been across several times," answered
Grit briefly.
Grit 47
"And how much have you made now?"
asked Phil, with what he intended to pass for
benevolent interest.
If Phil had been his friend, Grit would not
have minded telling him ; but he had the pride
of self-respect, and he objected to being patron-
ized or condescended to.
" I haven't counted up,'' he answered.
*^ I might have brought my own boat," said
Phil, " but I like to encourage you."
" Keally, Phil, you are appearing in a new
character," said Marion. ^' I never should
have taken you for a philanthropist before. I
thought you told your mother it would be too
much bother to row over in your own boat."
" That was one reason," said Phil, looking
slightly embarrassed. " Besides, I didn't want
to interfere with Grit's business. He is* poor,
and has to support his mother out of his earn-
ings."
This was in bad taste, and Grit chafed
against it.
"That is true," he said, "but I don't ask
any sympathy. I am prosperous enough."
" Oh, yes ; you are doing well enough for one
in your position, I don't doubt. How muck
48 Grit.
would jou give, now, to have as mucli money
as I carry in this poeketbook? '' asked Phil
boastfully.
He had just passed his birthday, and had
received a present of ten dollars from his
father, and ^ve dollars each from his mother
and an aunt. He had spent a part of it for a
hat and in other ways, but still he had seven-
teen dollars left."
" Perhaps I have as much money,'' answered
Grit quietly.
'' Oho ! That's a good joke," said Phil.
" No joke at all," said Grit. ^' I don't know
how much money you have in your pocketbook,
but I presume I can show more."
PhiFs face grew red with anger. He was
one of those disagreeable boys who are purse-
proud, and he was provoked at hearing such a
ridiculous assertion from a poor boy who had
to earn his own living.
Even Marion regarded Grit with some won-
der, for she happened to know how much
money her cousin carried, and it seemed to her
very improbable that the young boatman
should have as much in his possession.
" Don't make a fool of yourself. Grit! " said
Phil sharply.
Grit. 49
" 1% 'k ^^ou ; I don- 1 propose to."
" But /o« ^re doing it."
"Howf"
'' Didn^t you say you had more money than
I?"
" I think I have."
^' Hear him talk ! " said Phil, with a glance
of derision.
By this time the young boatman's grit was
up, if I may use the expression, and he resolved
to surprise and mortify his young adversary-.
" If you are not afraid to test it," he said,
^' I will leave it to the young lady to decide.
Let her count the money in your pocketbook,
and I will then give her my wallet for the same
purpose."
^' Done I " said Phil promptly.
Marion, wondering a little at Grit's con-
fidence, took her cousin's pocketbook, and
counted the contents.
"Well, Marion, how much is there?" said
Phil exultingly.
" Seventeen dollars and thirty-seven cents,"
was the announcement of the fair umpire.
Phil smiled triumphantly.
" You didn't think I had so much — eh,
Grit?" he said.
50 Grit.
" No, I didn't/' Grit admitted.
" Now hand over your wallet."
" With pleasure, if Miss Marion will take
the trouble/' answered the young boatman,
with a polite bow.
T^Tien Marion opened the wallet, and saw
the roll of bills, both she and Phil looked
astonished. She proceeded to count the bills,
however, and in a tone of serious surprise an-
nounced :
" I find sixty dollars here."
" That is right," said Grit quietly, as he re-
ceived back his wallet, and thrust it into his
pocket.
Phil hardly knew whether he was more sur-
prised or mortified at this unexpected result.
But a thought struck him.
" Whose money is that? " he demanded ab-
ruptly.
" It is mine."
" I don't believe it. You are carrying it over
to some one in Chester."
" Perhaps I am ; but, if so, that some one is
my mother."
" You don't mean to say that you have sixty
dollars of your own? "
Grit. 51
"Yes, I do. You didn't think I had so
much money — eh, Phil?'' he retorted, with a
smile.
" I don't believe a word of it," returned Phil
crossly. ^' It is ridiculous that a boy like you
should have so much money. It can't be
yours."
" Do you doubt it, Miss Marion? " asked
Grit, turning to the young lady.
" No ; I believe that it is yours since you say
so."
" Thank you."
"If it is yours, where did you get it?"
asked Phil, whose curiosity overcame his mor-
tification sufficiently to induce him to ask the
question.
" I don't feel called upon to tell you," an-
swered Grit.
" Then I can guess."
" Very well. If you guess right, I will ad-
mit it."
" You found it, and won't be long before
finding the owner."
" You are wrong. The money is mine, and
was paid me in the course of business."
Phil did not know what to say, but Marion
said pleasantly :
52 Grit.
" Allow me to congratulate you, Mr. Grit,
on being so well off. You are richer than
either of jouv passengers. I never had sixty
dollars of my own in my life."
By this time they had reached the other side
of the river, and the two passengers disem-
barked.
'^ Well, Phil, you came off second best," said
his cousin.
^^ I can't understand how the boy came into
possession of such a sum of money," said Phil,
frowning.
" Nor I ; but I am sure of one thing."
"What is that?"
" That he came by it honestly."
" Don't be too sure of that," said Phil, shak-
ing his head.
" Phil, you are too bad," said Marion
warmly. '^ You seem to have taken an unac-
countable prejudice against Grit. I am sure
he seems to me a very nice boy."
" You're welcome to the young boatman's
society," said Phil, with a sneer. " You seem
to be fond of low company."
^^ If you call him low company, then per-
haps I am, I never met Grit before this
Grit. 53
morning, but he seems a very polite, spirited
boj, and it is certainly to his credit that he
supports his mother.''
" I can tell you something about him that
may chill your ardor. • His father is in jail."
" I heard that it was his stepfather."
" Oh, well, it doesn't matter which."
" In one sense, no. The boy isn't to blame
for it."
^^ No, but it shows of what stock he comes."
Meanwhile, Grit, having fastened his boat,
made his way to the cottage on the bluff. He
wanted to tell his mother of his good fortune.
CHAPTER VIII.
GRIT PUTS HIS MONEY AWAY.
'^ You seem to be in good spirits, Grit," said
his mother, as our hero opened the outside
door and entered the room where she sat sew-
ing.
"Yes, mother, I have reason to be. Is — is
Mr. Brandon home? "
" Yes ; he is up-stairs lying down," answered
Mrs. Brandon, with a sigh.
54 Grit.
Grit rose and closed the door.
" I don't want him to hear what I'm going
to tell jou/' he said. " Mother, I have been
very lucky to-day."
" I suppose Mr. Jackson was liberal."
" I should say he was. Guess how much
money I have in this wallet, mother."
" Five dollars."
^^ Multiply that by twelve."
" You don't mean to say that he gave you
sixty dollars?" inquired his mother quickly.
" Yes, I do. See here," and Grit displayed
the roll of bills.
" You are, indeed, in luck. Grit. How much
good this money will do us. But I forgot,"
she added, her expression changing to one of
anxious solicitude.
" What did you forget, mother? "
" That your father — that Mr. Brandon had
returned."
"What difference will that make, mother?
I suppose, of course, it will increase our ex-
penses."
" If that were all. Grit."
"What is it, then, you fear, mother?'^
" That he will take this money away from
you."
Grit. 55
" I should like to see him try it/' exclaimed
Grit, compressing his lips.
" He will try it, Grit. He said only an hour
ago that you would have to account to him for
your daily earnings."
" Doesn't he mean to do any work himself? ''
" I fear not. You know what sort of a man
he is. Grit. He probably means to live on
what we can earn, and spend his time and
what money he can get hold of at the tavern.''
" And he calls himself a man ! " said Grit
disdainfully.
" I am afraid our quiet, happy life is at an
end. Grit," sighed his mother.
Grit did not answer for a moment, but he
looked stern and determined. Finally, he an-
swered :
" I don't want to make any disturbance,
mother, or to act improperly, but I feel sure
that we ought not to submit to such treat-
ment."
" What can we do. Grit? "
" If Mr. Brandon cares to stay here we will
provide him a home, give him his board, but,
as to supplying him with money, we ought not
to do it."
56 Grit.
" I agree with you, Grit, but I don't see
how we can help it. Mr. Brandon is' a man,
and you are only a boy. I don't want you to
quarrel with him."
" I won't if I can help it. By the way,
mother, I don't think it will be prudent to
leave all this anonej in the house."
" What can we do with it? "
^^ I will put it out of my hands. Perhaps I
had better not tell you what I am going to do
with it, for Mr. Brandon might ask you, and
it is better that you should be able to tell him
that you don't know."
" You are right. Grit."
" I will attend to that matter at once,
mother. I will be back in half or three-quar-
ters of an hour," and the young boatman hur-
ried from the house.
He bent his steps to the house of his par-
ticular friend^ Fred Lawrence, the son of a
lawyer in the village. Mr. Lawrence was rated
as wealthy by the people in the village, and
lived in a house quite as good as Mr. Court-
ney's, but his son Fred was a very different
style of boy. He had no purse-pride, and it
never occurred to him that Grit was unfit to
Grit. 57
associate with, simply because lie was poor,
and had to earn a living for himself and his
mother by ferrying passengers across the Ken-
nebec. In fact, he regarded Grit as his most
intimate friend, and spent as much time in
his company as their differing engagements
would allow.
Phil Courtney, though he condescended to
Grit, regarded Fred as his social equal, and
wished to be intimate with him ; but Fred did
not fancy Phil, and the latter saw^, with no
little annoyance, that the young boatman's
company was preferred to his. It displayed
shocking bad taste on the part of Fred, but he
did not venture to express himself to the law-
yer's son as he would not scruple to do to the
young ferryman.
Naturally, when Grit felt the need of advice,
he thought of his most intimate friend, and
sought the lawyer's house.
He met Fred on the way.
'' Hello, Grit I " said Fred cordially.
" Where are you going? "
" I was going to your house."
^^ Then turn round, and we will go there."
'^ 1 can talk with you in the street. I want
jour advice and help."
58 Grit.
^' My advice is probably very valuable," said
Fred, smiling, '^ considering my age and ex-
perience. However, my help you can rely
upon, if I can give it."
" Did you hear that Mr. Brandon had got
home? " asked Grit abruptly.
"Your stepfather?"
" Yes ; I am sorry to say that there is that
tie between us. I presume you know where
he has spent the last five years? "
" Yes," answered Fred.
" Of course, I am glad for his sake that he
is free; but I am afraid he is going to give us
trouble."
" How does he appear? "
" I have not seen him yet."
" How's that? "
" He only arrived to-day, and I was absent
when he reached home."
" Does he mean to live here? "
" I am afraid so ; and, what is more, I am
afraid he means that mother and I shall pay
his expenses. He has already told mother that
he shall require me to account to him for my
daily earnings."
" That will be hard on you."
Grit. 59
" Yes ; I need all I can make to pay our
daily expenses, and I don^t feel like letting
mother suffer for the necessaries of life in
order to supply Mr. Brandon with money for
drink. '^
" You are right there, Grit. I sympathize
with you; but how can I help it?''
^' That is what I am coming to. I want to
deposit my money with you — that is, what I
don't need to use."
" I suppose you haven't much. It might not
be well to trust me too far," said Fred, smiling.
" I have sixty dollars here, which I would
like to put in your hands — that is, all but two
dollars."
" Sixty dollars I Where on earth did you get
so much money. Grit? " asked his friend, open-
ing his eyes wide in astonishment.
Grit told the story briefly, and received the
warm congratulations of his friend.
" You deserve it all. Grit," he said, " for
your brave deed."
" Don't flatter me, Fred, or I may put on
airs like Phil Courtney. But, to come back to
business — will you do me this favor? "
" Of course^ I will. Father has a safe in his
6o Grit.
oflfice, and I will put the money in there.
Whenever you want any of it, you have only
to ask me.''
" Thank you. That will suit me. I shan't
break in upon it unless I am obliged to, as I
would like to have it in reserve to fall back
upon."
^^ Come and take supper with us, Grit, won't
you?" asked Fred cordially.
" Thank you, Fred; not to-night. I haven't
seen Mr. Brandon yet, and I maj^ as well get
over the first interview as soon as possible.
We shall have to come to an understanding,
and it is better not to delay it."
" Good night, then ; I shall see you to-
morrow, for I am going to Portville, and I
shall go over in your boat."
" Then we can have a chat together. Good
night."
Meanwhile, Mr. Brandon, having slept off
his debauch, had come down-stairs.
" Where's the cub? " he asked.
" I wish you wouldn't call him by that
name," said his wife. ^\He wouldn't like it."
" I shall call him what I please. Hasn't he
been in?"
Grit. 6i
" Yes, Grit has been in.''
"Grit?"
" That's a nickname the boys have given him,
and as everybody calls him so, I have got into
that way.''
" Oh, well, call him what you like. Has he
been in? "
" Yes."
" Where is he now? "
" He went out for a short time. I expect
him in every minute."
" Did he leave his day's earnings with you? "
" No," answered Mrs. Brandon, with a
troubled look. " He has the best right to that
himself."
" Has he, hey? We'll see about that. I, as
his stepfather and legal guardian, shall have
something to say to that."
Mrs. Brandon was not called upon to reply,
for the door opened just then, and the young
boatman stood in the presence of his worthy
stepfather.
62 Grit.
CHAPTER IX.
A LITTLE DISCUSSION.
Grit was only ten years old when his step=
father began to serve out his sentence at the
penitentiary, and the tw^o had not seen each
other since. Instead of the small boy he re-
membered, Brandon saw before him a boy
large and strong for his age, of well-knit frame
and sturdy look. Five years had made him
quite a different boy. His daily exercise in
rowing had strengthened his muscles and de-
veloped his chest, so that he seemed almost a
young man.
Brandon stared in surprise at the boy.
" Is that — the cub? '■ he asked.
" I object to that name, Mr. Brandon," said
Grit quietly.
" You've grown ! '' said Brandon, still re-
garding him with curiosity.
" Yes, I ought to have grown some in five
years."
Grit. 63
It occurred to Mr. Brandon that it might
not be so easy as he had expected to bully his
stepson. He resolved at first to be concilia-
tory.
" Pm glad to see you," he said. " It's long
since we met."
" Yes," answered Grit.
He was not prepared to return the compli-
ment, and express pleasure at his stepfather's
return.
" I'm glad you and your mother have got
along so well while I w^as away."
Grit felt tempted to say that they had got
along better during Mr. Brandon's absence
than when he was with them, but he forbore.
He did not want to precipitate a conflict,
though, from what his mother had said, he
foresaw that one would come soon enough.
^^ Your mother tells me that you make money
by your boat," continued Mr. Brandon.
" Yes, sir."
" That's a good plan. I approve it. How
much money have you mad^ to-day, now?"
^' I have a dollar or two in my pocket," an-
swered Grit evasively.
^' Very good ! " said Brandon, in a tone of
6.1 Grit.
satisfaction. " You may as well hand it to
me."
So the crisis had come! Mrs. Brandon
looked at her son and her husband with anx-
iety, fearing there would be a quarrel, and
perhaps something worse. She was tempted
to say something in deprecation, but Grit said
promptly :
^^ Thank you, Mr. Brandon, but I would
prefer to keep the money myself."
Brandon was rather taken aback by the
boy's perfect coolness and self-possession.
" How old are you? " he asked, with a
frown.
'' Fifteen."
" Indeed ! " sneered Brandon. " I thought,
from the way you talked, you were twenty-one.
You don't seem to be aware that I am your
legal guardian."
" No, sir, I was not aware of it."
" Then it's time you knew it. Ain't I your
stepfather?"
^^ I suppose so," said Grit, with reluctance.
" Ha, you admit that, do you? I'm the
master of this house, and it's my place to give
orders. Your wages belong to me, but if you
ii T
ii
Grit. 65
are obedient and respectful^ I will allow you a
small sum daily, say five cents/'
'^ That arrangement is not satisfactory, Mr.
Brandon/' said Grit firmly.
^* Why isn't it?" demanded his stepfatlier,
frowning.
I use my money to support the family.''
Did I say anything against it? As the
master of the house, the bills come to me to be
paid, and therefore I require you to give me
every night whatever you may have taken dur-
ing the day."
" Do you intend to earn anything yourself? "
asked Grit pointedly ; " or do you expect to live
on us?"
'' Boy, you are impertinent," said Brandon,
coloring.
" Don't provoke Mr. Brandon," said Grit's
mother timidly.
" We may as well come to an understand-
ing," said Grit boldly. ^' I am willing to do
all I can for you, mother, but Mr. Brandon is
able to take care of himself, and I cannot
support him, too."
'^ Is this tiie way you talk to your father,
you impertinent boy? " exclaimed Brandon
wrathfully.
66 Grit.
" You are not my father, Mr. Brandon,"
said Grit coldly.
" It is ail the same ; I am your mother's hus-
band.''
*^ That's a different thing.''
" Once more, are you going to give me the
money you have in your pocket?"
" No, sir."
Brandon looked at Grit, and he felt that it
would have given him pleasure to shake the
rebellion out of his obstinate stepson, but sup-
per was almost ready, and he felt hungry. He
decided that it would be as well to postpone an
open outbreak. Grit was in the house, and not
likely to run away.
" We'll speak of this another time," he said,
waving his hand. " You will find, young man,
that it is of no use opposing me^ Mrs. Bran-
don, is supper almost ready? "
" Nearly," answered his wife, glad to have
the subject postponed.
" Then serve it as soon as possible," he said,
in a lorldly tone. " I am to meet a gentleman
on business directly afterward."
Supper was on the table in fifteen minutes.
Mr. Brandon ate with evident enjoyment.
Grit. 67
Indeed, it was so siiort a time since lie had
been restricted to prison fare that he relished
the plain but well-cooked dishes which his
wife prepared.
" Another cup of tea, Mrs. Brandon," he
said. " It seems pleasant to be at home again
after my long absence.''
" I shouldn't think he would like to refer to
his imprisonment,'-' thought Grit.
" I hope soon to be in business," continued
Brandon, " and we shall then be able to live in
better style. When that time comes I shall be
willing to have Grit retain his small earnings,
stipulating only that he shall buy his own
clothes, and pay his mother, say a dollar and
a quarter a week, for board."
He said this with the air of a man who con-
.sidered himself liberal, but neither Grit nor
his mother expressed their sense of his gener-
osity.
" Of course, just at present,^' Mr. Brandon
proceeded, " I have no money. The minions of
the law took from me all I had when they
unjustly thrust me into a foul dungeon. For
a time, therefore, I shall be compelled to accept
Grit's earnings, but it will not be for long."
68 Grit,
Grit said nothing to this hint, but all the
same he determined, whether for a short or a
long time, to resist the exactions of his step-
father.
As for Brandon, his change of front was in-
duced by the thought that he could accomplish
by stratagem what he might have had some
difficulty in securing by force. He still had
twenty-five cents of the dollar which his wife
had given him in the morning.
When supper was over he rose, and, putting
on his hat, said :
" I am going to the village on business. I
shall be home in good season. Are you going
my way. Grit? "
" Not just at present," answered Grit.
Mother and son looked at each other when
they were alone.
" I suppose he's gone to the tavern,'' said
Grit.
" Yes, I presume so," said his mother, sigh-
ing.
'' Well, mother, I didn't give up the money."
" No, Grit, but he means to have it yet."
" He's welcome to it if he can get it," said
the boy manfully.
Grit. 69
" You haven't got the sixty dollars with
you? " said his mother anxiously.
" No, they are safe. I have kept only two
dollars, thinking you might need some groc-
eries."
" Yes, I do, Grit. They go off faster, now
that we have another mouth to feed."
^' Suppose you make out a list of what you
want, mother, and I will go up to the store this
evening. I may as well save Mr. Brandon
from temptation."
His mother made a list, and Grit, putting it
in his pocket, walked up to the village.
The groceries, with a pound of steak, cost a
dollar and ninety cents.
As Grit took the bundles and walked home-
ward, he thought to himself.
" Mr. Brandon wouldn't feel very well re-
paid for his trouble if he should take all I have
left. He ought to be satisfied with free board,
without expecting us to supply him with
pocket-money besides. I wonder what he
would say if he knew how much money I have
deposited with Fred Lawrence? "
Grit congratulated himself that his step-
father was not likely to make this discovery^
but in this he reckoned without his host.
^o Grit.
Mr. Brandon made the discovery that same
evening. How it came about will appear in
the next chapter.
CHAPTER X.
BEANDON LEARNS GRIT'S SECRET.
" I HAD no idea the boy had grown so much/'
said Brandon to himself, as he directed his
course toward the tavern. ^' I thought he was
a little kid, but he's almost as big as I am.
He's kind of obstinate, too, but he'll find out
who's master before long. It's ridiculous, his
expectin' to have the handlin' of all the money
that comes into the house. Just as if he had
any judgment — a boy of his age."
The chances are that Grit's judgment in the
matter would have proved better than Bran-
don's, since the latter proposed to spend a
large portion of the money for drink.
" I expect the boy makes a good thing out
of his boating," resumed Mr. Brandon. " He
owned up that he had almost two dollars, and
it's likely he earned it all to-day."
Presently Brandon reached the tavern, and
entered the barroom.
Grit. 71
He called for v/hisky, and swallowed it with
gusto,
" You may charge it to me," said he care-
lessly; " I'll pay once a week."
" We don't care to do business that way,"
said the barkeeper.
"You ain't afraid I won't pay you?" said
Brandon, in a tone of affected indignation.
" I don't know whether you would or not,
but our terms are cash."
" Oh, well, if you're so strict as that, take it
out of this quarter," said Brandon, throwing
his sole remaining coin on the counter.
Fifteen cents were returned to him, and in
half an hour that sum was also expended at
the bar.
It might have been supposed that Brandon
would be satisfied, but he was not. He made
an attempt to obtain another drink on credit,
but the barkeeper proved obdurate.
Then he engaged in a game of cards, and
about half-past nine set out to go home, in a
better condition than if he had had more
money to spend.
" This will never do ! " he muttered, in a dis-
contented tone ; " I can't be kept so short as
72 Grit.
this. It is humiliating to think of me, a grown
man, going round without a cent in my pocket,
while my stepson is reveling in money. I
won't have it, and I'll let him understand it."
A few feet in front of Brandon two boys
were walking. One of them was Phil Court-
ney, and the other Dick Graham, a poor boy,
who, by proper subserviency, had earned a
position as chief favorite with his companion.
Brandon could not help hearing their con-
versation. He heard Grit's name mentioned,
and this made him listen attentively.
" I can't understand where Grit got his
money," Phil was saying.
'^ How much did you say he had? " inquired
Dick.
" Sixty dollars ! "
" Whew ! "
Brandon felt like saying " Whew ! " too, for
his amazement was great, but he wanted te
hear more, and remained silent.
" Are you sure there were sixty dollars? "
" Yes; my cousin Marion counted it."
" How did Grit happen to show his money? "
'' He was boasting that he had more money
than I, and I challenged him to show his
money."
Grit. 73
" I suppose he did show more? "
" Yes, I had onlj^ seventeen dollars. But
what I can't understand is, where did a com-
mon boatman pick up so much money? "
" Perhaps he has been saving for a long
time.*'
'' Perhaps so, but I don't believe he could
save so much," answered Phil.
" Perhaps he stole it."
Phil didn't believe this, but he would like
to have believed it true.
" I shouldn't wonder if he did, though I
don't know where he could get the chance."
" I wonder if he'd lend me five dollars,"
thought Dick Graham, though he did not care
to let Phil know his thought. He resolved to
be more attentive to Grit, in the hope of pe-
cuniary favors. Meanwhile, he did not forget
that Phil also was well provided.
" You were pretty well fixed, too," he said.
" I wonder how I'd feel if I had seventeen dol-
lars."
" What do I care about seventeen dollars? "
said Phil discontentedly, '' when a boy like
Grit Morris can show more than three times as
much."
74 Grit.
" Oh, well, he'll have to spend it. He won't
keep it long. By the ¥/aj, Phil, will you do
me a favor?''
"What is it?" asked Phil cautiously.
^^ Won't you lend me two dollars? I want
it the worst way. I haven't got a cent to my
name."
" I can't spare it," said Phil curtly.
" It will- leave you fifteen "
" I'm going to use it all. Besides, it would
be the same as giving it "
" No, I'd pay you back in a week or two."
" You've been owing me fifty cents for three
months. If you'd paid that up punctually,
perhaps I would have lent you. You'd better
go to Grit."
" He isn't my friend, and I thought you
might not like my going to him."
" Oh, you can borrow as much as you like
Df him — the more, the better ! " returned Phil,
with a laugh.
" I'll try it, then. I shall have to pretend
to be his friend."
"All right. The faster he gets rid of his
money, the better it will suit me."
Brandon heard no more of the conversation,
Grit. 75
for the boys turned down a side street. But
lie had heard enough to surprise him.
^^ Grit got sixty dollars ! " he repeated to
himself. " Why, the artful young villain !
Who'd have thought it? And he coolly re-
fuses to let his father have a cent. He's act-
ually rolling in riches, while I haven't got a
penny in my purse. And his mother aids and
abets him in it, I'll be bound. It's the black-
est ingratitude I ever heard of."
What Grit had to be grateful to him for Mr.
Brandon might have found it difficult to in-
stance, but he actually managed to work him-
self into a fit of indignation because Grit de-
clined to commit his money to his custody.
Brandon felt ver}^ much like a man who
has suddenly been informed that a pot of gold
was concealed in his back yard. Actually, a
member of his family possessed the handsome
sum of sixty dollars. How was he to get it
into his own hands?
That was easier to ask than to answer. As
he had said, Grit was a stout, strong boy,
nearly his equal in size and strength, and he
had already had sufficient acquaintance with
his firmness, or obstinacy, as he preferred to
76 Grit.
call it, to make sure that the boy would not
give up the money without a struggle. If now
he could get hold of the money by stratagem,
it would be easier, and make less disturbance.
Where did Grit keep the money?
" He may have given it to his mother,"
thought Brandon. '' If so, I can find it in
one of her bureau drawers. She always used
to keep mone^^ there. But it is more likely that
the boy keeps it in his own pocket. I know
what I'll do. I'll get up in the night, when he
and his mother are asleep, and search his
pockets. Gad, how astonished he'll look in the
morning when he searches for it, and finds it
missing ! ''
Brandon was very much amused by this
thought, and he laughed aloud.
" Sixty dollars'll set me on my feet again,"
he reflected,. "' Let me see. I'll go to Boston,
and look round, and see if I can't pick up a job
of some kind. There isn't anything to do here
in this beastly hole. By the way, I wonder
w^here the boy did get so much money. He
must find boatin' more profitable than I had
any idea of."
At this point Brandon entered the little path
that led to his wife's cottage.
Grit. 77
" Mrs. B. is sittin' up/' he said, as he saw
through the window the figure of his wife in a
rocking-chair, apparentl.y occupied with some
kind of work. '^ I'll get her off to bed soon,
so that I can have a clear field."
Mrs. Brandon looked up when her husband
entered, and noticed, with a feeling of relief,
that he was sober. That, however, was not
owing to any intentional moderation on his
part, but to his lack of funds.,
" Sittin' up for me, Mrs. B.? " asked Bran-
don.
" I generally sit up till past this hour," she
answered.
" I feel rather tired myself," said Brandon,
succeeding in yawning.
" It isn't on account of having done any
work," thought his wife.
" I've been walkiu' round considerably, and
got tired."
" Do you come from the tavern? " asked Mrs.
Brandon coldly.
" Yes, Mrs. B., I expected to meet a gentle-
man there on business, but he disappointed
me. Where's Grit?"
" He has gone to bed. He has got to get up
78 Grit.
early in the morning, to help me, and then he
spends the day in ferrying passengers across
the river."
^' That's a bright idea of Grit's. I approve
it. He makes considerable money, doesn't
he?"
" Considerable for a boy. I don't know*
what I should do if it were not for Grit."
" Just so. But now I'm home, and shall
soon get into business. Then you won't need
to depend on him. Of course, I shall need a
little money to start with."
Mrs. Brandon did not reply to this obvious
hint. She prepared for bed. An hour later,
Brandon, having ascertained that his wife was
asleep, left the room cautiously, and stole into
Grit's chamber.
CHAPTEEXI.
THE MIDNIGHT VISIT.
Grit was not aware that Brandon had dis-
covered his secret, but still was not unprepared
for a night visit. As we already know, he had
but ten cents left of the two dollars he had
reserved, and this coin he put into a small
leather purse, which he usually carried.
Grit. 79
*^ If Mr. Brandon searches for money, he will
be disappointed/' he said to himself, with a
quiet smile. " He won't find enough to pay
him for his trouble."
Grit was not anxious enough about his
money to keep awake. When, therefore, his
stepfather entered his chamber, he was fast
asleep. Brandon listened for a moment to the
deep breathing of the boy, and felt that there
was no need of caution. He therefore boldly
advanced, candle in hand, to the bedside. The
candle he set on the bureau, and then took up
Grit's clothes, which hung over a chair, and
proceeded to .examine the pockets.
His countenance changed as he continued
the search.
At last he came to the purse, but it felt
empty, and he did not open it with much con-
fidence. Thrusting in his finger, he drew out
the solitary dime which it contained.
" Only ten cents ! " he exclaimed, with in-
tense disapointment. " It isn't worth taking.
On second thoughts, I'll take it, though, for it
will pay for a drink."
He pocketed the coin, and resumed his
isearch.
8o Grit.
^^ The boy must have a pocketbook some-
where," he muttered. ^' He wouldn't carry
bank-bills in a purse. Where can he keep it? ''
Once more he explord the pockets of his step-
son, but he met with no greater success than
before.
It is a curious circumstance that sometimes
in profound sleep a person seems vaguely
aware of the presence of an intruder, and the
feeling is frequently strong enough to disturb
slumber. Grit was a sound xsieeper, but, how-
ever we may account for it, whether it was the
instinctive feeling I have mentioned, or the
glare of the candle, he work up, and his glance
rested on the kneeling figure of his stepfather
rummaging his pockets. Instantly Grit real-
ized the situation, and he felt more amused
than indignant, knowing how poorly the
searcher would be rewarded.
Brandon's back was turned to him, and our
hero felt inclined to try the effect of a prac-
tical joke.
In a deep, sepulchral voice, he called out:
"What are you doing there?"
Brandon, taken by surprise, started as if he
had been shot, and sprang to his feet in con-
fusion. Turning to the bed, he saw Grit sur-
Grit. 8 1
veying him calmly. Then his natural hardi-
hood restored his self-possession.
" Where do you keep your money, you young
cub ? '' he demanded.
" Where do I keep it ? I suspect you know
well enough. Haven't you looked into my
purse? '^
" Yes, and I only found ten cents.''
" Did you take it? " asked Grit.
" Yes."
" Then it's lucky I had no more in it."
"Where is the rest of your money?" de-
manded Brandon.
" What do you mean by the rest of my
' money?"
" I mean the sixty dollars you had with you
to-day."
Grit whistled.
" So you heard I had sixty dollars? '^ he
said.
" Yes."
" It is in a safe place."
" Ha ! You own that you had so much
money. You wanted to keep it from me, did
you?" demanded Brandon, with a frown.
"Yes, I did," admitted Grit. "Did Phil
Courtney tell you I had it?"
" No matter how I heard. I know that you
82 Grit.
are trying to conceal a large sum of money,
which ought to be in my hands.''
" Indeed ! How do you make that out? ''
" I am your stepfather and natural guard-
ian. I am the best person to take care of your
money.'^
'" I don't 'think so, and I propose to keep it
myself/' said Grit firmly.
" Do you defy me?" demanded Brandon an-
grily.
" If you call my refusing to give you my
own money by that name, then I do."
" Boy, you don't know me ! " said Brandon,
in a tone intended to strike terror into the
heart of his stepson. " Hitherto you have had
only your mother to look after you, and she
has been foolishly indulgent. Now you have
a man to deal with. Once more, will you hand
me that money? "
" I decline," said Grit firmly.
" Then on your head be the consequences,''
said Brandon. '' You will hear from me again,
and soon."
So saying, he stalked majestically from the
chamber.
" I wonder what he means to do? " thought
Grit.
But the thought did not keep him awake.
Grit. 83
CHAPTER XII.
grit's misfortune.
The next morning Grit came down to break-
fast nearly an hour later than usual. It might
have been because he was unusually fatigued,
or it may have been on account of his slumbers
having been interrupted. When he came down-
stairs, he looked at the clock, and realized that
he had overslept himself.
" I am nearly an hour late, mother," he said.
" Why didn't you call me? ''
" I thought you were tired, Grit, and needed
sleep.''
" Where is Mr. Brandon? I suppose he has
not got up ! "
" Yes, he has had his breakfast and gone
out."
" He is in a great hurry to spend my ten
cents," said Grit, laughing.
" What do you mean. Grit? "
" I had a visit from him last night," Grit
explained. '^ He rummaged my pockets, and
was successful in finding a dime."
^' Is it possible?"
84 Grit.
" Why should you be surprised, mother? I
was not.'^
" Did he sa^'^ anything to you? ''
"Yes; he has found out somehow about the
sixty dollars, and he asked me to give it to
him.''
" Oh, Grit, I am afraid there will be
trouble," said Mrs. Brandon anxiously. " He
won't rest till he gets the money."
" Then he w on't rest at all," said Grit firmly.
" I am afraid you will have to give it to him,
Grit."
" Not if I know what I am about. No,
mother, the money is safe, where he won't find
it. I won't tell you, for he might annoy you
till you told him."
" No, Grit ; don't tell me. I would rather
not know. How happy we were before he
came, and how rich we should feel if this
money had come to you before Mr. Brandon
came home I "
" That is true, mother. It's a shame that he
should come home to give us so much trouble."
" I can't see how it's all going to end," mur-
mured Mrs. Brandon sadly.
"Nor I; but I mean to resist Mr. Brandon
till he»finds it's of no use trying to appropriate
my money. When he finds he can't get any-
Grit. 85
thing out of us except a bare living, he may
become disgusted and leave us.''
" He won't do it while he "has any hope left.
What do you think he has been trying to per-
suade me to do, Grit? "
" I don't know."
" He wants me to mortgage this cottage, and
give him the money."
" Just like him, mother. I hope you were
firm ? "
" Yes, Grit. I told him I would not consent.
It is all we have. I cannot part with our home
and the roof that shelters us."
" Of course not, mother. You would be very
foolish if you did. Did he mention any one
that wanted to buy it? "
" Yes, he said that Mr. Green would be will-
ing to advance money upon it."
" Mr. Green — the landlord of the hotel? I
don't doubt it. He knows that Brandon
would pay back the whole for drink in a short
time."
^^ I am afraid that would be the case."
" Mother," said Grit, with energy, " promise
me that you will never consent to this wicked
plan."
" No, Grit, I won't. I consider tl^at the
house is as much yours as mine, and I am not
willing to leave you without a home."
86 Grit.
" I don't so much mind that, for I could
S'hift for myself somehow, but I want you to
keep it in your own hands, and I am not will-
ing that Mr. Brandon should sacrifice it for
drink.''
" I agree with you, Grit. Whatever it may
cost me, I won't consent."
" The sooner he becomes convinced that he
has nothing to hope from either of us, the
sooner he will leave us," said Grit. " If I
thought he would go awsij and never come
back, I would be willing to let him have the
sixty dollars, but it would only make him
stay, in the hope of getting more."
By this time Grit had finished h^*s break-
fast.
" I must get to work, mother," he said.
" I'll be home to dinner at the usual time, if I
can."
^' If not, I will save something for you,
Grit."
The young boatman made his way to the
river. Here an unpleasant surprise awaited
him. His boat was not where he had left it.
He looked in all directions, but it had dis-
appeared.
^^ What can have becojSae of it?" thought
Grit, in perplexity.
Grit. 87
CHAPTEE XIII.
grit's boat is sold.
Brandon was not usually an early riser, and
would not on this occasion have got up so soon
if a bright idea had not occurred to him likely
to bring money to his purse.
It was certainly vexatious that Grit so ob-
stinately refused to pay into his hands the
money he had managed in some way unknown
to his stepfather to accumulate. Perhaps
some way of forcing the boy to do so might
suggest itself, but meanwhile he was penniless ;
that is, with the exception of the dime he had
abstracted during the night. Possibly his wife
might have some money. He proceeded to
sound her on the subject.
" Mrs. B.," said he, " I shall have to trouble
you for a little money."
" I gave you a dollar yesterday," said Mrs. '\
Brandon.
^^ What's a dollar? I have none of it left
now."
" Did you spend it at the tavern? " aske^ his
wife gravely.
88 Grit.
" I am not willing to be catechized upon that
point/' returned Brandon, in a tone of lofty
dignity.
'' It is quite impossible to supply you with
money for such a purpose/' continued Mrs.
Brandon. '' What money Grit earns is wanted
for necessary expenses.^'
" I am not so easily deceived," said her hus-
band, nodding sagaciously.
" It is quite true."
" I won't argue the point, Mrs. B. Have
you any change now? That is the question.''
" No, I have not."
" Be it so. I have only to remark that you
and your son will have occasion to regret the
unfriendly and suspicious manner in which
you see fit to treat me."
So saying, Mr. Brandon sat down to his
breakfast, which he ate with an appetite such
as is usually earned by honest toil.
When he rose from the table, he left the
icottage without a word.
" How it all this to end? " thought Mrs.
Brandon, following his retreating form with
an anxious glance. " He has not been here
twenty-four hoursfyet, and he has spent a dol-
lar of Grit's hard earnings, and is dissatisfied
because we will not give him more. Besides,
Grit. 89
he has already broached the subject of mort-
gaging the house, and all to gratify his in-
satiable thirst for strong drink."
Certainly the prospects were not very bright,
and Mrs. Brandon might well be excused for
feeling anxious.
Though Brandon had ten cents in his pocket,
the price of a glass of whisky, he did not go at
once to the tavern, as might have been ex-
pected. Instead of this, he bent his steps to-
ward the river.
He knew about where Grit kept his boat,
and went directly to it.
^' Ha ! a very good boat I " he said, after sur-
veying it critically. ^' It ought to be worth
ten dollars, at least, though I suppose I can't
get over five for it. Well, five dollars will be
a lift to me, and if Grit wants another boat
he's got the money to buy one. I can get even
with him this way, at least. He'd better have
treated me well and saved his boat."
The boat was tied fast, but this presented no
insurmountable difficulty.
Brandon pulled a jack-knife out of his
pocket, and after awhile — for it was very dull
— succeeded in severing the rope.
Then he jumped into the boat and began to
row out into the stream.
90 Grit.
He was a little at a loss at first as to where
lie would be most likely to find a purchaser.
In his five years' absence from the neighbor-
hood he had lost his former acquaintances,
and there had been, besides, changes in the
population.
As he was rowing at random, he chanced to
look back to the shore he had left, and no-
ticed that a boy was signaling to him.
He recognized him as the boy whom he had
heard speaking of Grit's treasure, and, being
desirous of hearing more on the subject, he at
once began to pull back to the river bank.
The boy, as the reader will surmise, was
Phil Courtney.
" Hello, there ! " said Phil ; " isn't that Grit
Morris' boat?"
" No, it's mine."
" It is the same Grit usually rows in," said
Phil, beginning to suspect Brandon of theft.
" That may be, but the boat is mine."
"Did he sell it to you?"
" No.''
" Who are you, then? "
" I am Mr. Brandon, Grit's stepfather,"^
Phil whistled.
" Oh, it's you, is it? " he said, surveying
Brandon, not over respectfully, for he knew
Grit. 91
where he had spent the last five years. "So
you've come home? "
" Yes, but I might as well have stayed
away."
"How is that?'' asked Phil, regarding the
man before him with curiosity.
Brandon w^as not too proud to speak of his
domestic grievances, as he regarded them, to a
stranger.
" My wife and son treat me like a stranger,"
he said. " Instead of giving me a warm wel-
come after my long absence, they seem to be
sorry to see me."
" I don't wonder much," thought Phil, but
he did not say so, not being averse to drawing
Brandon out on this subject.
" And that reminds me, young gentleman ; I
was walking behind you last evening, and I
heard you say something about Grit's having
a large sum of money."
" Yes ; he showed me sixty dollars yester-
day.'^
" Are you sure there was as much as that? "
inquired Brandon eagerly.
" Yes, I am sure, for my cousin counted it in
my presence."
" It might have belonged to some one else,"
suggested Brandon.
92 Grit.
" No ; I thought so myself, but Grit said it
belonged to him."
" Did he say where he got it? "
" No ; he's mighty close about his affairs. I
couldn't help wondering myself, and asked
him, but he wouldn't tell me."
" If he's got as much money as that, he ought
to give it to me to take care of."
^' Why don't you make him give it to you? "
suggested Phil maliciously.
" I did ask him, but he refused. A boy of his
age ought not to carry about so much money.
Did he carry it in a roll of bills, or in a pocket-
book?"
" He had it in a wallet."
" I didn't see the wallet," thought Brandon.
" I only found the purse. The boy must have
hidden it somewhere. I must look for it."
" What are you going to do about it? " asked
Phil. " Are you going to let him keep it? "
" Not if I can find it. I will take it away
from him if I get the chance."
" I wish he would," thought Phil. " It
would soon go for drink, and then Master
Grit wouldn't put on so many airs."
" May I ask your name? " asked Brandon.
" I am Phil Courtney, the son of Squire
Courtney, the president of the bank," answered
Phil pompously.
Grit. 93
^' You don't say so ! " exclaimed Brandon, in
a tone of flattering deference. '' I am proud
to know you. You come of a fine family."
" Yes, my father stands pretty high/' re-
marked Phil complacently.
'' Eeally," thought he, " this man has very
good manners, even if he has just come from
the penitentiary. He treats me with a good
deal more respect than Grit does. If I could
help him to get the money I would."
^^ Not a man in town stands higher," said
Brandon emphatically. " Are you a friend of
my stepson? "
" Well, hardly," answered Phil, shrugging
his shoulders. '^ You must excuse my saying
so, but Grit hasn't very good manners, and,
though I patronize him by riding in his boat,
I cannot regard him as a fitting associate."
" You are entirely right, young gentleman,"
said Brandon. '' Though Grit is my stepson, I
am not blind to his faults. He has behaved
very badly to me already, and I shall be obliged
to require him to treat me with more respect.
If he w^ould only copy you, I should be very
glad."
" You are very polite, Mr. Brandon," said
Phil, flattered. '^ I hope, for your sake, that
Grit will improve.^
?7
94 Grit.
" By the way, Mr. Courtney '' — Phil swelled
with conscious pride at this designation — '' do
you know any one who would like to buy a
boat?"
" What boat do you refer to? '' asked Phil.
" This boat."
" Rut I thought jt was Grit's."
" I am his stepfather, and have decided to
sell it.''
" What'll you take? " asked Phil, not unwill-
ing to buy a good boat, especially as he knew
it would annoy Grit.
" It is worth ten dollars, but I will sell it
for six dollars cash."
" Say five, and I'll take it."
" Very well, Mr. Courtney, seeing it's you, I
will say five."
" It's a bargain."
Phil had his money in his pocket, and he
lost no time in binding the bargain by paying
the money.
'' I think I'll take a row myself," he said.
He jumped into the boat, and Brandon, with
five dollars in his pocket, took the nearest road
to the tavern.
Grit. 95
CHAPTER XIV.
THE BILL OF SALE.
A SUDDEN thought struck Phil, and he called
back Brandon.
" What's wanted now? " asked the latter im-
patiently.
" I want you to give me a bill of sale of the
boat/' said Phil.
" What's the use of that? "
" I don't want Grit to charge me with taking
his boat without leave."
" Oh, bother ! it's all right. I haven't got
any paper," said Brandon, who was anxious to
reach the tavern, and take his morning dram.
" I have," said Phil promptly, as he drew out
a small note-book and tore out a leaf, which
he handed, with a pencil, to Brandon.
"What do you w^ant me to write?" asked
the latter.
Phil dictated a form, which Brandon wrote
down and signed.
" Will that do? " he asked.
" Yes, that will do. Now I am all right, and
the boat is mine in spite of all Grit may say."
96 Grit.
" I have made a good bargain," said Phil, to
himself, complacently. '' This boat is worth
at least twice what I have paid for it. I will
get it painted, and a new name for it, and it
will pass for a new boat. Won't Grit be mad
when he hears what his stepfather has do,ne? ''
This was, on the whole, the pleasantest re-
flection connected with the purchase. It was
not creditable to Phil to cherish such malice
against a boy, simply because he would not
treat him with as much deference as he ex-
pected; but human nature is often betrayed
into petty meannesses, and Phil was a very
human boy, so far, at least, as such traits were
concerned.
We now come back to Grit, w^ho stood on
the river's bank in perplexity, when he dis-
covered that his boat had been abstracted.
" Who 'can have taken it? " he thought.
Here he felt quite at a loss. It did not
occur to him that his stepfather had had any-
thing to do with his boat, for he could not
understand of what advantage it would be to
him. He did not comprehend fully, however,
how serious the loss was likely to prove, since
it took away his means of living.
He stooped over and examined the rope.
Clearly, it had been cut, and this showed that
Grit. 97
the boat had been taken bj some unauthorized
person.
" I can't understand who would serve me
such a trick," thought Grit. " I don't know
that I have any enemies."
But at this point he could not help thinking
of Phil Courtney, who, if not an enemy, was
certainly not a friend.
" Is it possible that Phil would play me such
a trick?" he asked himself. ''No; he would
think too much of himself. He would not con-
descend to do such a thing."
Grit walked up and down along the river
bank, looking here and there to see if anywhere
he could descry his boat. At length he saw a
boat, but the boat was not his. It belonged to
Jesse Burns, the son of the postmaster, and
was of about the same size and build as his
own.
'' Jesse ! " he called out, putting his hands
to his mouth to increase the volume of sound.
Jesse heard the call, and rowed toward
where Grit was standing.
" What is it. Grit? "
" My boat has been taken, and I don't know
what has become of it."
'' Is that so? " asked Jesse, in surprise.
" Why, I saw Phil Courtney out on the river
98 Crit.
with it. I passed him only fifteen minutes
since. I thought you had let it to him."
" Phil Courtney I " exclaimed Grit, angry
and surprised. " I didn't think he would take
it without leave."
" Did he? ''
" Yes, I found the rope cut."
" That doesn't seem like Phil. He's mean
enough to do anything, but I didn't think he
would do that."
'' Nor I. I'll give him a good piece of my
mind when we meet. Where did you meet
him?"
" Just above Glen Cove."
" Do me a favor, Jesse. Take me into your
boat, and row me up there, so that I may meet
him, and recover my boat."
"All right. Grit. I'm very glad to do you
a favor."
"Are you sure it is my boat Phil had?"
asked Grit, still unwilling to believe that Phil
had deliberately taken his boat.
" Yes, I know your boat as well as my own.
Besides, there was the name. Water Lily, on
it, as plain as day. There is no doubt about
it."
" Well," said Grit, closing his lips firmly,
" all I can say is, I'll make him pay for the use
of the boat, or there'll be trouble."
Grit. 99
" You won't cliallenge him, will you, Grit? "
asked Jesse, smiling.
" That's just what I will do. I should be
justified in thrashing him, without notice, but
I will give him a chance to defend himself."
" If you want a second, call on me," said
Jesse. " I don't like Phil any better than you
do, and I shan't object to seeing his pride
humbled. It's bad for your business, having
the boat taken." ,
^^ Yes, I shall lose the chance of two pas-
sengers who wanted to go across to Portville
an hour from now."
" You may use my boat for that. Grit."
" Thank you, Jesse ; I should like to, if I
don't get back my own. Did you speak to
Phil?"
"No. I said ^ good morning,' but, with his
usual politeness, he only gave a slight nod, and
did not answer. I wanted to ask him how it
happened that he was using your boat so early
in the morning, but, you see, I got no chance."
" It is queer. I can't guess what he will
have to say for himself."
" There he is now ! " said Jesse suddenly,
looking up the river.
"Where?"
" Don't you see? He is rowing this way.
100 Grit.
His back is turned, and he liasn't seen us
yet.''
Yes, it was Phil. He had enjoyed a good
row, and now was on his return course. He
was rowing slowly and lazily, as if fatigued.
" You will' soon hear what he has to say,
Grit," said Jesse.
At that moment Phil chanced to turn round,
and he saw and recognized the boys that were
approaching him. He did not, however, seem
confused or embarraKsed; neither did he
change his course. He merely smiled, and con-
tinued to row toward his pursuers.
" He sees us, and still he comes on. There's
cheek for you ! " ejaculated Jesse.
Grit said nothing, but his mouth closed
firmly, and his eyes sparkled with anger. He
waited till Phil was within earshot, and then
he demanded sternly :
'^ What are you doing there vrith my boat,
Phil Courtney?"
Phil would have resented Grit's tone, but he
gloated over the triumphant answer he was
able to make, and thought he would tantalize
Grit a little.
" To what boat do you allude? " he asked, in
a nonchalant tone.
" To what boat do I allude? " repeated Grit,
Grit. loi
provoked. ^^ I allude to my boat, in which you
are rowing."
"You are mistaken/' said Phil composedly.
" I am rowing in my own boat."
"Isn't that the Water Lilyf'^ asked Jesse,
coming to the help of his friend.
" It is at present. I shall change the name
for one I like better."
" Look here, Phil Courtney ! " said Grit in-
dignantly, " this is carrying the joke a little
too far. You have taken my boat without leave
or license from me, and now you actually
claim it as your own. Do you mean to say that
isn't the boat I have been rowing on this river
for the last year? "
" I never said it wasn't."
" Isn't it the boat in which I carried you
across the river yesterday? "
" Of course."
' " Then what business had you to cut the
rope and carry it off?"
" I didn't."
" Then how did you come by it? "
" I bought it ! "
" Bought it ! " exclaimed Grit and Jesse sim-
ultaneously.
" Yes, I bought it, and it is mine," continued
Phil, with a smile of triumph. " It's just as
102 Grit.
much mine to-day as it was yours yesterday/'
" I never sold it to you/' said Grit, per-
plexed.
" No, but your stepfather, Mr. Brandon, did.
If the rope was cut, he cut it.''
" Can you prove this, Phil Courtney? "
asked Grit.
'^ If you will row up alongside, I will satisfy
your curiosity."
Jesse pulled his boat alongside, and Phil
drew from his vest pocket a paper and handed
it to Grit.
" Read that," he said.
Grit read as follows :
" In consideration of five dollars, to me paid,
I make over and sell the boat called the Water
Lily to Philip Courtney.
Nathan Brandon."
" There I " said Philip triumphantly, " what
have you to say now? "
CHAPTER XV.
GRIT ENGAGES ANOTHER BOAT.
When Phil displayed the bill of sale, made
out in due form by Brandon, Grit was for the
moment taken aback.
Grit. 103
"Whose boat is it now?" continued Phil
triumphantly.
^^ It is mine," auKSwered Grit quietly; "for
Mr. Brandon had no right to sell it."
" I have nothing to do with that," said Phil.
"' He is your stepfather — you ought to feel
proud of having a jail-bird in the family — and
he told me the boat was his."
" I shall not contest your claim at pres-
ent," said Grit. " As long as it passes out
of my hands, you may as well have it as any
one."
" I'll sell it back for ten dollars," said
Phil, who had a keen scent for a bargain.
" Thank you, I don't care to buy back my
own property. Besides, Mr. Brandon would be
ready to sell it again to-morrow. As to what
you say of him, I shan't undertake to defend
him. I am not particularly proud of the re-
lationship."
" What are you going to do for a boat to
ferry your passengers? " asked Phil.
" I don't know."
" I'll let you this for fifty cents a day."
" That would be about half of my receipts,
and you would get your money back in ten
days. I don't care about making such a bar-
gain ^s that."
104 Grit.
" You'll have to give up your business, then,"
said Phil.
'^ No, he won't," said Jesse Burns. '^ I will
give him the use of mine, and won't charge
him a cent." ^
" Thank you, Jesse. You are a true friend,"
said Grit warmly. ^' You are doing me a great
favor."
'^ And I am glad to do it. Suppose we pull
to land? There are three persons at the land-
ing who look as if they wanted to be ferried
across."
Grit seized the oars and impelled the boat to
land. As Jesse had said, there were three
persons waiting, a gentleman and two ladies,
who at once engaged the services of the young
boatman.
For this service he received thirty cents, and,
finding two persons at the other end who
wished to come to Chester, the first hour in
his new boat brought him fifty cents.
Grit's spirits rose. His misfortune was not
irremediable, after all. He had feared that his
means of living were taken away, and though
he had money enough to buy a new boat, he
did not dare to do so, lest Brandon should
also sell that.
" I'll give him a piece of my mind," he
Grit. 105
thought. " It's contemptible to come home and
live on us, and then to take awaj my means of
living."
Meanwhile, Brandon had gone to the tavern,
which he entered with a swagger, and imme-
diately called for a glass of whisky.
The barkeeper hesitated.
" My orders are not to sell on credit," he
said.
"Who wants you to sell on credit?" asked
Brandon haughtily. ^
" You had no money last night."
" I've got some now. What do you say to
that?" and he displayed the five-dollar bill he
had received from Phil Courtney.
" That alters the case," said the barkeeper
complaisantly. '^ Your money is as good as
anybody's."
" I should say so. Give me another."
When Brandon left the barroom, he had
spent a dollar, having drunk himself and
treated others.
" Wonder if Grit has. found out about his
boat?" he said to himself, with a waggish
smile, as he walked homeward with unsteady
steps. " Serves the boy right for treating me
so disrespectfully."
It was not much out of his way to go down
io6 Grit.
to the margin of the river, and he did so. It
happened that, m he reached it, Grit had just
arrived from Portville with a second load of
passengers. Fortune, as if to compensate him
for his loss of a boat, had brought him an un-
usual number of passengers, so that he had al-
ready earned a dollar.
When Brandon saw Grit engaged in his
usual avocation, he opened wide his eyes in sur-
prise.
'' Has the boy got his boat back again? " he
asked himself.
He was not familiar with the appearance of
the boat, and the name had slipped from his
recollection. Then, also, Jesse's boat looked
very much like Grit's.
When the passengers had walked away
Brandon took measures to gratify his curi-
osity.
"Where did you get that boat, Grit?" he
asked.
"Ah, it's you, is it?" said Grit, seeing his
stepfather for the first time. " What business
had you to sell my boat, Mr. Brandon? "
" Ain't I your stepfather, I'd like to know? "
retorted Brandon.
" I am sorry to say you are," answered Grit;
Grit. 107
^^ but that doesn't give you any authority to
steal and sell my boat.''
^' Don't you dare to charge me with stealin',
you — you young puppy ! " exclaimed Brandon,
indignantly. ^' If you had behaved as you
ought to me, I wouldn't have meddled with
your boat."
'^ I understand you, Mr. Brandon. Because
I wouldn't give you the money that I need to
support my mother, you meanly and mali-
ciously plot to take away my means of liv-
ing."
" You wouldn't give me your money to take
care of for you."
" You take care of my money for me ! " re-
turned Grit disdainfully. " I know very well
how you would take care of it. You've already
spent a part of the five dollars you received for
stolen property at the tavern, and the result is
that you can't walk straight."
^^ You lie I I can walk as straight as you ! "
said Brandon, and proceeded to prove it by
falling against a tree, and recovering his
equilibrium with difficulty. ^
*^ I see you can," said Grit sarcastically.
'' Of course I can. Where did you get that
boat? Is it the same "
" The same you stole from me? No, it isn't."
io8 Grit.
"Have you bought it?" inquired Brandon,
with a cunning look.
" No, I haven't, and I don't intend to buy
another boat for you to sell. I have borrowed
it of my friend, Jesse Burns."
Mr. Brandon looked disappointed. He had
thought the new boat would prove a second
bonanza, and he was already considering
whether he could find another purchaser for
it.
" Have you made much money this mornin',
Grit?" next inquired Brandon, changing the
conversation.
" I decline to tell you," answered Grit
shortly.
^' Grit, you don't seem to reflect that I am
your stepfather, and set in authority over
you."
" I am not very likely to forget that I have
a stepfather I am ashamed of," said Grit.
" This is unkind, Grit," said Brandon, in
a voice tremulous with maudlin sentiment.
^' Because I've been unfortunate, and have
been shut out from all enjoyment for five years,
you mock and insult me when I get home and
pine for domestic happiness."
" If you would behave decently, you
wouldn't be reminded of the past," said Grit.
Grit. 109
"But how is it? You haven't been home but
twenty-four hours, and have already borrowed
all the money mother had, and have sold my
boat, to gratify your taste for rum. There
may be more contemptible men in the world,
but I never met with one."
'^ Grit, if you talk to me in that way," said
Brandon, Yilth attempted dignity, '' I shall be
under the necessity of flogging you."
" You'd better not try it, Mr. Brandon. I
wouldn't stand still while you were doing it.
I promise you that."
Just then two gentlemen came down to
Phil's pier, and one asked :
'^ Can you take us across to Portville? "
" Yes, sir," answ^ered Grit promptly.
The two gentlemen got in, and Grit was
about to push off, when Brandon said :
"Stop, Grit; I'll go, too."
"^You'll have to wait, Mr. Brandon," said
Grit coolly, and a determined push sent the
boat out into the stream, and frustrated the
design of his stepfather.
" You don't want any more passengers, I
see," said one of the gentlemen, smiling.
" Not of that kind," answered Grit.
" You are right. The man had evidently
no Grit.
been drinking, and his presence would have
been disagreeable to us/'
When the boat reached the opposite shore,
the gentleman who had engaged him handed
Grit half a dollar.
Grit was about to offer change, but the pas-
senger said :
" No, keep the change, my lad. You'll find
a use for -it, I make no doubt."
" After all," thought Grit, who did not for-
get to thank his liberal patron, ^' this isn't
going to be so bad a day for me."
Five minutes later a man with a heavy black
beard and rather shabbily attired presented
himself as a passenger.
" I say, boy," said he, " do you know a man
named Brandon that has recently gone to
Chester?"
^' Yes," answered Grit.
" All right. When we get over on the other
side, you can just point out to me where he
lives."
CHAPTER XVI.
MR. BRANDON'S FRIEND.
It was elear that Grit's new passenger was
a stranger in the neighborhood. Had he beeo
Grit. Ill
a resident of Chester or Portville, the young
boatman would have known him. It must be
confessed, however, that the appearance of the
newcomer was not such as to render any one
anxious to make his acquaintance. He was a
black-haired, low-browed man, with a cunning,
crafty look, and, to sum up, with the general
appearance of a tramp.
He seated himself comfortably, and scanned
the young boatman critically.
" Where do jou live? " he asked abruptly.
" In Chester," answered Grit briefly.
" That's where my friend Brandon lives,
isn't it?''
" Yes.'''
) " Do you know him? ''
" Yes."
Grit felt reluctant to admit that any tie ex-
isted between himself and the returned con-
vict.
" Brandon's wife is living, isn't she? ''
" Yes."
"There's a kid, isn't there?"
" Mrs. Brandon has a son, if that's what you
mean," said Grit.
"Of course, that's what I mean. Mrs. Bran-
don got any property? "
Grit was getting provoked. He did not
112 Grit.
fancy discussing his mother's affairs with a
man of this stamp.
^' You seem to feel considerable interest in
the family," he could not help saying.
" S-pose I do I That's my business, isn^t it? "
" I suppose so," answered Grit.
'' Well, why don't you answer my ques-
tion?" demanded the passenger impatiently^
'' I haven't agreed to answer your questions;
I have engaged to row you across the river, and
I am doing it."
'' Look here, boy I " said the passenger, bend-
ing his brows', '^ I don't want you to talk back
to me — do you hear? "
'' Yes, I hear; but if you ask me questions I
shall answer as I please."
''' Y"ou will, hey? I've a great mind to throw
you into the river."
" That w^ouldn't do you any good. Y^ou
wouldn't get over any quicker, and, besides,
you would find yourself under arrest before
night."
'' And .you would drown."
" Not if I could help it. I can swim across
the river easily."
" You're a cool hand. Then you are not
willing to answer my questions? "
" I will, if you will answer mine.''
Grit. 113
" Go ahead. I'll see about it/"' ^
" Where did jou meet Mr. Brandon? '^
"Where? Well, let that pass.''
It so happened that the two had first met
as fellow prisoners — a confession the pas-
senger did not care to make. Grit inferred
this from the reluctance displayed m giving
the answer.
" What is your name? "
" Thomas' Travers," answered the passenger,
rather slowly. " What is yours? "
" Harry Morris."
This answer revealed nothing, since Travers
did not know the name of Brandon's wife be-
fore marriage.
" Do you make much, ferrying passengers
across the river? "
" I do pretty well."
^' What is your fare? "
^' Ten cents."
" Pretty good. I'd do it for that myself."
" There's a chance to run opposition to me,"
said Grit, smiling.
" I've got more important business on hand.
So you know Brandon, do you? "
" Yes, I know him."
" Do you know his wife? "
'' Ye&y
114 Grit
" Has she property? "
" She owns the small cottage she lives in.'^
" Good ! '^ said Travers, nodding. " That's
luck for Brandon."
" How is it? " asked Grit, desirous of draw-
ing out Travers, as he probably knew Mr.
Brandon^s intentions, and it was important
that these should be understood.
" It's a good thing to have property in the
family. My friend Brandon is short of funds,
and he can sell the house, or raise money on
it.''
" Without his wife's consent? "
" Oh, she'll have to give in," said Travers
nonchalantly.
" We'll see about that," said Grit to himself,
but he did not utter his thoughts aloud.
By this time they had reached the opposite
shore of the river, and Travers stepped out of
the boat.
He felt in his vest pocket, as a matter of
form, but did not succeed in finding anything
there.
" I've got no change, boy," he said. " I'll
get some from Brandon, and pay you to-
morrow."
" Mr. Brandon's credit isn't good with me,"
said. Grit.
Grit. 115
" Ha, does he owe you money? "
" I refused to take liim across the river this
morning/' answered Grit.
" Look here, young fellow, that isn't the way
to carry on business. When you insult my
friend Brandon, you insult me. I've a great
mind never to ride across on your boat again."
" I don't mind losing your patronage," re
peated Grit. " It doesn't pay."
" We'll discuss that another time. Where
does my friend Brandon live? "
" You can inquire," returned Grit, by no
means anxious to point out the way to his
mother's house to this objectionable stranger.
" You're the most impudent boy I've met
lately," said Travers angrily. " I'll settle you
yet."
^^ Better settle with me first, Mr. Travers,"
said Grit coolly, and he pushed his boat back
into the stream.
" I wonder who he is," thought Travers, as
he walked away from the boat landing. " I
must ask Brandon. I wish I could meet him.
I'm precious short of funds, and I depend on
him to take care of me for a few days."
Thomas Travers passed by the little cottage
on the bluff, quite unaware that it was the
house he was in search of. He kept on his
ii6 Grit.
way toward the village, not meeting any one
of whom he could ask the proper direction.
At length, greatly to his relief, he espied in
the distance the familiar figure of Brandon,
walking, or, more properly, reeling, toward
him.
" That's he — that's my friend Brandon ! " he
exclaimed joyfully. " Now I'm all right. Say,
old fellow, how are you? "
'' Is it you, Travers? " said Brandon, trying
to steady himself.
" Yes, it's I — Tom Travers."
" When did you get out? "
" Sh ! Don't speak too loud ! " said Travers,
looking about him cautiously. " I got out two
days after you."
" What are you doing here? "
" Just come. Come to see you, old boy. I
can stay with you, can't I? "
Brandon looked dubious.
" I don't know what Mrs. B. will say," he
answered slowly.
" You're boss in your own house, ain't you? ''
" Well, that's where it is ! It isn't my own
house. It belongs to Mrs. B."
" Same thing, I take it."
" No, it isn't. The old lady's bound to keep
it in her own hands."
Grit. 117
" Can't you sell or mortgage it? ''
" She won't let me.'^
"Bah! Can't you control a woman?" re*
turned Travers disdainfully.
" I might, but for the cub."
" The boy? "
" Yes. He's the most obstinate, perverse, in-
dependent young kid you ever saw."
" You don't say so ! "
" Fact I It's pretty hard on me."
" Then he'll make a pretty good match for
the boy I met this morning."
"Where?"
" The boy that ferried me across the river.
He's as sassy a young kid as I ever saw."
"Why, that's him— that's Grit."
" Grit ! He told me his name was Harry
Morris."
" So it is, and his mother was Mrs. Morris
before I married her."
" You don't mean to say that boy is your
stepson? "
" Yes, he is."
" Whew ! " whistled Travers. " Well, he
doesn't seem to admire you very much," con-
tinued the visitor.
" No, doesn't treat me with any respect. If
it wasn't for him, I could manage his mother.
ii8 Grit.
He sets her against me, and gets her to stand
out against anything I propose. It's hard,
Travers," continued Brandon, showing an in-
clination to indulge in maudlin tears.
" Then why do you submit to it, Brandon?
Ain't you a match for a boy like that? Why,
you ain't half the man I thought you was."
^^ Ain't I? I was too much for Grit this
morning, anyway," said Brandon, with a cun-
ning smile.
"What did you do?"
" I sold his boat before he was up, and he
had to borrow another."
" Good ! " exclaimed Travers, delighted.
'^ You're a trump. Have you got any of the
money left? "
" A little."
" Then steer for the tavern, old fellow. I'm
awfully thirsty."
The next hour was «pent in the barroom, and
then the worthy and well-matched pair bent
their steps toward the little cottage, Travers
supporting his friend Brandon as well as he
could.
Grit. 119
CHAPTER XVII.
AN UNWELCOME VISITOR.
Mrs. Brandon was laying the cloth for
dinner when she heard a scuffling sound, as of
footsteps, in the entry.
" Who is with Mr. Brandon? " she thought.
" It can't be Grit. They wouldn't be likely to
come home together."
Her uncertainty was soon at an end, for the
door was opened, and her husband reeled in,
sinking into the nearest chair, of necessity,
for his limbs refused to support him. Just
behind him was Mr. Thomas Travers, who was
also under the influence of his recent potations,
but not to the same extent as his companion.
"How do, Mrs. B.?'' said her liege lord.
" Mrs. B., I have the pleasure of introducin'
my frien' Travers. Come in, Travers."
Mrs. Brandon surveyed the two with a look
of disgust, and did not speak.
" I hope I see you well, ma'am," said Trav-
ers, rather awkwardly, endeavoring, with some
difficulty, to maintain an erect attitude.
" Sorry to intrude, but my old friend Brandon
insisted."
120 Grit.
" You can come in if you like," said Mrs.
Brandon coldly.
" I say, Mrs. B., is dinner almost ready?
My frien', Mr. Travers, is hungry, an' so'm I.''
" Dinner is nearly ready. I suppose, Mr.
Brandon, you have just come from the tavern.'^
'' Yes, Mrs. B., I've come from the tavern,'^
hiccoughed Brandon. " Have you anything
to say against it? "
" I would say something if it would do any
good,'' said his wife despondently.
'' If you think — hie — that I've been drinkin',
Mrs. B., you're mistaken; ain't she, Travers? "
" You didn't drink enough to hurt you, Bran-
don," said his companion, coming to his assist-
ance.
Mrs. Brandon looked at Travels, but did
not deign to answer him. It was clear
that his assurance possessed no value in her
eyes.
She continued her preparations, and laid the
dinner on the table.
Then she went to the door, and, shading her
eyes, looked out, hoping to see Grit on his way
home. But she looked in vain. Just as he was
about fastening his boat, or, rather, the boat he
had borrowed, two passengers came up an(?
wished to be conveyed across the rtVer.
Grit. 121
" My dinner can wait/' thought Grit. " I
must not disappoint passengers."
So his coming home was delayed, and Bran-
don and his friend had the field to themselves.
When dinner was ready, Brandon staggered
to the table and seated himself.
" Sit down, Travers," he said. " You're in
my house, and you must make yourself at
home."
He said this a little defiantly, for he saw by
Mrs. Brandon's expresion that she was not
pleased with his friend's presence.
" I'm glad to hear it," said Travers, with a
knowing smile. " I was told that the house
belonged to your wife."
" It's the same thing, isn't it, Mrs. B.? " re-
turned Brandon.
" Not quite," answered his wife bitterly.
" If it were, we should not have a roof over
our heads."
" There you go again ! " said Brandon
fiercely, pounding the table with the handle of
his knife. ^' Don't let me hear no more such
talk. I'm master here, d'ye hear that? "
^' That's the talk, Brandon ! " said Travers
approvingly. " I like to hear a man show
proper independence. Of course you're master
here."
122 Grit.
Mrs. Brandon was of a gentle nature, but
she was roused to resentment by this rudeness.
Turning to Travers, she said :
" I don't know who you are, sir, but your
remarks are offensive and displeasing.''
" I'm the friend of my friend Brandon," said
Travers insolently, ^^ and as long as he don't
complain of my remarks, I shall remark what
I please. What d'ye say, Brandon? "
" Quite right, Travers, old boy ! You're in
my house, and I expect you to be treated ac-
cordingly. Mrs. B., you will be kind enough
to remember that this gen'leman is a frien' of
mine," and Brandon closed the sentence with
a drunken hiccough.
" I think it necessary to say that this house
belongs to me," said Mrs. Brandon, ^' and that
no one is welcome here who does not treat me
with respect."
"Spunky, eh?" said Travers, laughing
rudely.
" Yes, she's spunky," said Brandon, " but
we'll cure her of that, eh, Travers? — the same
way as I cured that boy of hers."
" That was good ! " laughed Travers. " He's
an impudent young rascal."
Mrs. Brandon was alarmed. What did they
mean by these references? What had been
Grit. 123
done to Grit, and how had he been served?
Was it possible that Brandon had dared to use
violence to the boy? The very thought hard-
ened her, and gave her courage.
" Mr. Brandon," she said, with flashing eyes,
" what do you mean? What have you done to
Grit? Have you dared to illtreat him? If you
have, it will be a bad day's work for you.''
" Ha ! She threatens you, Brandon. Now,
brace up, man, and show your spunk," said
Travers, enjoying the scene.
" I'm not account'ble to you, Mrs. B.," stam-
mered Brandon, in what he essayed to make a
dignified tone. " Grit is my stepson, and I'm
his natural guardian."
" Mr. Brandon, what have you done to
Grit?" persisted his wife, with flashing eyes.
" Have you dared to lay a finger upon him? "
" I'll lay two fingers, three fingers, on him,
if I like," said Brandon doggedly. " He's a
sassy puppy, Mrs. B."
Mrs. Brandon became more and more anx-
ious. Generally, Grit was home by this time,
and his failure to appear led the anxious
mother to conclude that he had been injured by
her husband.
" Where is Grit? " she asked, with startling
emphasis.
124 Grit.
" He's all right/' stammered Brandon.
" He's all right, but he isn't happy/' said
Travers, laughing. '' That was a good move of
yours, selling his boat."
"Did you sell Grit's boat, Mr. Brandpn?"
demanded his wife quickly.
" Yes, I did, Mrs. B. Have you got any-
thing to say against it? "
" I say that it was a mean, contemptible,
dishonest act I " said Mrs. Brandon warmly.
" You have taken away the poor boy's means
of living, in order to gratify your love of drink.
The food which you are eating was bought
with his earnings. How do you expect to live,
now that you have taken away his boat? "
"He'll get along; he's got sixty dollars,"
said Brandon thickly.
" Sixty dollars w^on't last forever. To whom
did you sell the boat? "
" Phil Courtney."
" He was just the boy to buy it. Little he
cared for the harm he was doing my poor Grit.
How much did he pay you? "
" Five dollars."
" And how much of the monej^ have you got
left?"
Brandon drew out two silver half-dollars
from his pocket.
Grit. I2S
« That's all I've got left," lie said.
"And you have actually squandered four
dollars on liquor, you and your friend ! " said
Mrs. Brandon — ^' nearly the whole sum you re-
ceived for my poor boy's boat ! "
" Hush up, Mrs. B. ! It's none of your busi-
ness," said Brandon.
" That's the way to talk, Brandon ! " said
Travers, surveying the scene with boorish de-
light. " I like to see a man show the proper
spirit of a man. I like to see a man master in
his own house."
" You would not insult me so if Grit were
here ! " said Mrs. Brandon, with a red spot on
either cheek. " Mr. Brandon, I tolerate your
presence here, because I was foolish enough to
accept you as my husband. As for this man
whom you have brought here, he is unwelcome.
He has dared to insult me while sitting at my
table, and I ask him in your presence to leave
the house."
" Travers is my frien' ; he will stay here,
Mrs. B., and don't you forget it! "
Brandon pounded the table as he spoke, and
nodded his head vigorously.
" Sorry to disappoint you, Mrs. Brandon,"
said Travers impudently, " but when my friend
Brandon tells me to stay, stay I must. If you
126 Grit.
don't enjoy my being here, let me suggest to
you, in the politest manner, to go and take a
walk. Eh, Brandon? '^
" Yes, go take a walk I " said Brandon, echo-
ing his friend's remark. " I'll have you to
know, Mrs. B., that this is my house, an' I am
master here. My frien' Travers will stay here
as long as he pleases."
" That's the talk, Brandon. I knew you
weren't under petticoat government. You're
too much of a man for that."
" Yesh, I'm too much of a man for that,"
said Brandon sleepily.
Travers took from his pocket a clay pipe,
and, deliberately filling the bowl with tobacco,
began to smoke.
As he leaned back in his chair, winking in-
solently at Mrs. Brandon, the poor woman
cried :
^^ Will no one relieve me from this insolent
intruder? "
The words caught the ears of Grit, who en-
tered at this moment.
He looked from one to the other of the two
men who sat at his mother's table, and his eyes
flashed, and his boyish form dilated with pas-
sion.
Grit. 127
CHAPTER XVIII.
A STORMY TIME.
"What does this mean?" demanded Grit,
in a stern voice. " What have these men been
doing? ''
" Ohj Grit, I am glad you are here ! " said
his mother. " Mr. Brandon has brought this
man here against my will, and he has treated
me rudely."
Travers looked round and saw the boy.
" Hello, my young friend ! " he said. " You
didn't tell me that my friend Brandon was
your stepfather."
" Because I was ashamed of it," answered
Grit promptly.
"D'ye hear that, Brandon?" said Travers.
" The boy says he is ashamed of you."
" I'll settle with him when I feel better,"
said Brandon, who realized that he was not in
a condition even to deal with a boy " He's a
bad-mannered cub, an' deserves a floggin'."
" You won't give it to me ! " said Grit con-
temptuously. '^ What is the name of this maa
you have brought into the house? "
128 Grit.
" He's my frien' Travers," answered Bran-
don, " My frien' Travers is a gen'Fman.''
" A gentleman isn't insolent to ladies," re-
torted Grit. '^ Mr. Travers, if that is your
name, my mother wishes you to leave the
house."
" Couldn't do it," said Travers, leering.
" My frien' Brandon wants me to stay — don't
you, Brandon? "
" Certainly, Travers. This is my house, an'
I'm master of the house. Don't you mind what
Mrs. B. or this cub says. Just stay where you
are, and stand by me."
" I'll do it with pleasure," said Travers.
" My friend Brandon is the master of this
house, and what he says I will do."
" Mr. Travers," said Grit firmly, " you shall
not stay here. This house belongs to my
mother, and she wishes you to go. I suppose
you can understand that?"
'^ My dear boy, you may as well shut up.
I shan't go."
" You won't ! " said Grit menacingly.
" Oh, Grit, don't get into any difficulty,"
said his mother, becoming alarmed.
Travers puffed away at his pipe, surveying
Grit with an insulting smile.
Grit. 129
"Listen to jour mother, boy!" he said.
^^ She talks sense/'
" Mother, '^ said Grit quietly, " will you be
kind enough to go upstairs for five minutes?
I will deal with these men.''
" I ^vill go if you think it best, Grit; but do
be cautious. I am sure Mr. Travers will see
the impropriety of his remaining here against
my wishes."
" I may see it in a few days," said Travers
Insolently. " Don't trouble yourself, ma'am.
The law \% on my side, and I am the guest of
my friend Brandon. Isn't that so, Brandon? "
" To be sure, Travers," said Brandon, in a
drowsy tone.
^^ Mr. Brandon's friends are not welcome
here," said Grit, '' nor is he himself welcome."
'^ That's an unkind thing for your own boy
to saj^," said Brandon, in a tone which he tried
to make pathetic, ^' Because I've been un-
fortunate, my own family turn against me."
" If 3^ou had behaved decently, Mr. Brandon,
we would have tolerated your presence," said
Grit; "but during the short time you have
been here, you have annoyed and robbed my
mother and myself, and spent the money you
stole at the tavern. We have had enough of
you!-'
130 Grit.
" Dq you liear that, Travers? " asked Bran-
don, by a ludicrous traus-ition shedding maud^
lin tears. " Do you hear that ungrateful
boy?"
Meanwhile, Mrs. Brandon, in accordance
with Grit's request, had left the room.
Grit felt that the time had come for decisive
measures. He was not a quarrelsome boy, nor
was he given to fighting, but he had plenty of
spirit, and he was deeply moved and provoked
by the insolence of Travers.
Some consideration he perhaps owed to his
mother's husband; but to his disreputable com-
panion, none whatever.
" Mr. Travers," he said, with cool determi-
nation, turning toward the intruder, " did you
hear me say that my mother desired you to
•leave the house? "
" I don't care that for your mother ! " said
Travers, snapping his fingers. " My friend
Brandon '^
He did not complete the sentence. Grit
could not restrain himself when he heard this
insolent defiance of his mother, and, without
a moment's hesitation, he approached Travers,
with one sweep of his arm dashed the pipe he
was smoking into a hundred pieces, and, seiz-
ing the astonished visitor by the shoulders,
Grit. 131
pushed him forcibly to the door and thrust
him out.
Travers was so astonished that he was quite
unable to resist, nor indeed was he a match for
the strong and muscular boy in his j)resent
condition.
"Well, that beats all I ever heard of!" he
muttered, as he stumbled into a sitting posi-
tion on the door-step.
Brandon stared at Grit and his summary
proceeding in a dazed manner.
"Wha— what's all this, Grit?'' he asked,
trying to rise from his chair. " How dare you
treat my friend Travers so rudely? "
Grit's blood was up. His cheeks were
flushed, and his eyes sparkled with resentment.
" Mr. Brandon," he said, '' we have borne
with you, my mother and I, but this has got to
stop. When you bring one of your disrepu-
table friends here to insult my mother, ^^ou've
got me to deal with. Don't you dare bring
that man here again ! "
This was, I admit, rather a singular tone for
a boy of Grit's age to assume, but it must be
considered what provocation he had. Circum-
stances had made him feel older than he really
was. For nearly five years he had been his
mother's adviser, protector, and dependence^
132 Grit.
and he felt indignant through and through at
the mean and dastardly course of his step-
father.
^' Don't be sassj, Grit," said Brandon, slip-
ping back into his chair. ^' I'm the master of
this house."
" That is where you are mistaken, Mr.
Brandon," said Grit.
" Perhaps you are," retorted Brandon, with
mild sarcasm.
" This house has no master. My mother is
the mistress and owner," said Grit.
" I'm goin' to flog you, Grit, when I feel
better."
" I'm willing to wait," said Grit calmly.
Here there was an interruption. The ejected
guest rose from his sitting posture on the steps,
and essayed to lift the latch and gain fresh
admittance.
He failed, for Grit, foreseeing the attempt,
had bolted the door.
" Finding he could not open the door,
Travers rattled the latch and called out :
-^ Open the door, Brandon, and let me in ! "
" Open the door. Grit," said his stepfather,
not finding it convenient to rise.
^' I refuse to do so, Mr. Brandon," said
Grit, in a firm tone,
Grit. 133
^ Why don't you let me in?'' was heard
from the outside, as Travers rattled the latch
once more.
^' I'll have to open it myself/' said Brandon,
half rising and trying to steady himself.
The attempt was vain, for he had already
drunk more than was good for him when he
met Travers, and had drunk several glasses
on top of that.
Instead of going to the door, he sank help-
less and miserable on the floor.
" That disposes of him," said Grit, eying the
prostrate form witli a glance of disgust and
contempt. ^^ I shall be able to manage the
other one now with less trouble."
'' Let me in, Braadon ! " repeated Travers,
beginning to pound 011 the door.
Grit went to a window on a line with the
door, and, raising it, looked out at the be-
sieging force.
^^ Mr. Travers," he said, ^^ you may as well
go away; you won't get back into the
house."
*■ My friend Brandon will let me in. You're
only a boy. My friend Brandon is the master
of the house. He will let me in."
" Your friend Brandon is lying on the floor^
drunk, and doesn't hear 3^ou," said Grit.
134 Grit.
" Then I'll let myself in ! " said Travers,
?vjrith an oath. •
He picked up a rock, and began to pound
f^e door, to the imminent danger of breaking
tbe panels. " There's more than one way to
get in. When I get in, I'll mash you ! "
The time had come for decisive action.
Drunk as he was', Travers would sooner or
later break down the door, and then there
would be trouble.
Grit seized an old pistol which lay on the
mantel-piece. It had long been disused, and
w^as so rusty that it was very doubtful whether
any use could have been made of it. Still it
presented a formidable appearance, as the
young boatman pointed it at Travers.
" Stop pounding that door, or I fire ! " Grit
exclained, in a commanding tone.
Travers turned quickly at the word, and as
he saw the rusty w^eapon pointed at him, his
small stock of courage left him, and he turned
pale, for he was a coward at heart.
" For the Lord's sake, don't fire ! " he cried
hastily.
Grit. 135
CHAPTER XIX.
TRAVBRS PICKS UP A FRIEND.
Travers looked tlie picture of fright as lie
beheld the rusty pistol which Grit pointed at
him.
" Don't fire, for the Lord's sake ! " he re-
peated, in alarm.
^^ Will you go away, then, and give up
troubling us? " demanded the young boatman
sternly.
" Yes, yes, I'll go," said Travers hurriedly.
" Lower that pistol. It might go off."
Grit lowered the w^eapon, as desired, seeing
that Travers was likely to keep his word.
" Tell Brandon I want to see him. I will
be at the tavern this afternoon at four o'clock."
"I'll tell him," said Grit, who preferred that
his stepfather should be anywhere rather than
at home.
Having got rid of Travers, Grit turned to
survey his stepfather, who was lying on the
floor, breathing heavily. His eyes were closed,
and he seemed in a drunken stupor.
'^ How long have we got to submit to this? "
136 Grit.
thought Grit. " I must go up and consult with
mother about what is to be done."
He went up-stairs, and found his mother
seated in her chamber, nervously awaiting the
issue of the interview between Grit and the
worthy pair below.
"Are they gone, Grit?" she asked quickly.
" Travers is gone, mother. I turned him out
of the house."
" Did you haVe any trouble with him? "
" I should have had, but he was too weak to
resist me, on account of having drunk too
much."
" I thought I heard him pounding on the
door."
" So he did, but I frightened him away with
the old pistol," and Grit laughed at the remem-
brance. " He thought it was loaded."
" He may come back again," said Mrs. Bran-
don apprehensively.
'' Yes, he may. Brandon is likely to draw
such company. I wish we could get rid of
him, too."
" What a fatal mistake I made in marry-
ing that man ! " said Mrs. Brandon mourn-
fully.
" That is true, mother but it can't be helped
now. The question is, what shall Ave do? "
Grit. 13)
"Where is he?^'
" Lying on the floor, drunk/' said Grit, in a
tone of disgust. " We ma}' as well leave him
there for the present."
" He has hardl.y been home twenty-foar
hours, yet how he has changed our quiet life.
If he would only reform ! "
' " Not much chance of that, mother."
"What shall we do. Grit?" asked Mrs.
Brandon, who was wont to come to Grit, young
as he was, for advice.
"' I have thought of two ways. I might buy
him a ticket for Boston, if I thought he would
use it. It would be of no use to give him the
money, or he v.ould spend it at the tavern
instead."
" If he would only leave us to ourselves, it
would a blessing."
" If he won't hear of that, there is another
way."
"W^hat is it?"
" I could engage board for you and myself
at the house of one of our neighbors for a
w^eek."
" What good would that do, Grit? "
" You would prepare no meals at home, and
Mr. Brandon would be starved out. While he
can live upon us, and raise money to bay
158 Grit.'
liquor at the tavern, there is little chance of
getting rid of him.''
" I don't know, Grit. It seems a harsh thing
to do."
"But consider the circumstances, mother.
We can't allow him to continue annoying us
as he has done."
" Do as you think best, Grit."
" Then I will go ovei- to Mrs. Sprague's and
ask if she will take us for a few days. That
will iDrobably be sufficient."
Going down-stairs, Grit saw his stepfather
still lying on the floor. Grit's step aroused
him, and he lifted his head.
" 'S'that you Grit? " he asked, in thick
accents.
" Yes, sir."
" Where's my frien' Travers? "
" He's gone."
" Where's he gone? "
" To the tavern. He said he would meet you
there at four o'cock."
"What time is it?" asked Brandon, trying
to get up.
" Two o'clock."
" I'll be there. You tell him so. Grit.''
" I will if I see him."
Grit went on his way to Mrs. Sprague's,
Grit. 139
and had no difficulty in making the arrange-
ment he desired for his mother and himself,
when she learned that Mr. Brandon was not to
come, too.
" I feel for your mother, Grit," she said.
If I can help her in this trial, I certainly will.''
"Thank you, Mrs. Sprague. I will return
and tell her. Perhaps she may come over by
the middle of the afternoon. I don't like to
leave her alone in the house with Mr. Bran-
don."
" She will be welcome whenever she comes,
Grit."
'' You had better go over at once, mother,"
said Grit, on his return. " A drunken man is
not fit company for 3^ou."
Mrs. Brandon was easily persuaded to take
the step recommended, and her husband w^as
left in the house alone.
Meanwhile, Travers w^ent on his way to the
tavern. It was rather a serious thing for him
to be turned out of his friend's house, for he
had but a scanty supply of money, and his
appearance was not likely to give him credit.
" Confound that boy ! " he muttered. " He's
just reckless enough to shoot me, if I don't
give up to him. I pity Brandon, having such
a S0n as that."
140 Grit.
It would have beei more in order to pity
Grit for having such a stepfather, but Travers
looked upon the matter from his own point of
view, which, it is needless to say, was influ-
enced by his own interests.
" Will they take me at the tavern? " he
thought to himself. If they won't, I shall
have to sleep out, and that v/ould be hard for
a gentleman like me."
When we are in a tight place, help often
comes from unexpected quarters, and this to
those who hardly deserve such a favor. So it
happened in the case of Travers.
As he was walking slowing along, his face
wrinkled with perplexity, he attracted the at-
tention of a tall man, dressed in black, who
might readily have passed for a clergyman, so
far as his externals went. He crossed the
street, and accosted Travers.
" My friend,'' he said, " you appear to be in
trouble.''
" So I am," answered Travers readily.
'' Of what nature? "
" I've just been turned out of the house of
the only friend I have in the village, and I
don't know where to go."
^' Go to the tavern."
" So I would if I had money enough to pay
Grit. 141
my score. You haven't got five dollars to
spare, have you? "
Travers had no expectation of being an-
swered in the affirmative, and he was surprised,
as well as gratified, vrhen the stranger drew
out his wallet, and, taking therefrom a five-
dollar bill, put it into his hand.
^^ There,'' said he.
"Well!" exclaimed the astonished Travers,
" you're a gentleman if ever there was oue.
May I know the name of such an — an orna-
ment to his species? "
The stranger smiled.
" I am glad you appreciate my little favor,"
he said. " As to my name, you may call me
Colonel Johnson."
" Proud to know you, colonel," said Travers,
clasping the hand of his new acquaintance
warmly.
" What is your name? " asked Johnson.
" Thomas Travers."
*^ I am glad to know you, Mr. Travers,"
said the colonel. " Let . me drop you a
hint. There's more money where that came
from."
" You couldn't lend me any more^ could
you? " asked Travers eagerly.
*' Well, not exactly lend, Mr. Travers, ^' but
142 Grit.
perhaps we can enter into a little business ar-
rangement."
" All right, colonel/* said Travers briskly.
" I'm out of business. Fact is, I've been in se-
clusion lately — confined to the house in fact,
and haven't been able to earn anything."
" Just so. Suppose we take a walk in yon-
der field, and I will tell you what I have in
view."
They got over a fence, and walked slowly
along a path that led a quarter of a mile far-
ther on into the woods.
Here they sat down under a tree, and Col-
onel Johnson, producing a couple of cigars and
a match, said :
" I can always talk better when I am smok-
ing. Have one, Travers,"
" You're a man after my own heart, colonel,"
said Travers enthusiastically. " Now, if I only
had a nip I should be in clover."
" Take one, then, said the colonel, producing
a pocket-flask of brandy.
Travers was by no means bashful in accept-
ing thisdnvitation.
Grit 143
CHAPTER XX.
A PROMISING PLAN.
The conference between Colonel Johnson
and Travers was apparently of great interest
to the latter. It is important that the reader
should be made acquainted with its nature.
" I take it for granted, Mr. Travers/' said
the colonel, after their potation, " that you are
ready to undertake a job if there is money in
it.''
^' That's as true as you live," said Travers
emphatically.
" Am I also right in concluding that you are
not squeamish as to how the money is earned?
You are not overburdened with conscientious
scruples, eh? "
"Not much! They're all nonsense," re-
turned Travers.
'^ Good ! I see you are the sort of a man I
took you for. Now you must, to begin with,
promise that you will regard as confidential
what I am about to say to you."
a rpQj^ Travers can be relied upon, colonel.
He's safe every time."
" Good again ! Then I shall not hesitate to
144 Grit-
unfold to you my little plan, I believe you
have a bank in the village? "
'' Yes; but, colonel, I am a stranger here. I
only know one person here — my friend Bran-
don."
^' Is he — the same kind of a man as your-
self? " inquired Johnson.
" The same identical kind, colonel. What is
it Shakespeare, or some other poet, says :
** ' Two flowers upon a single stalk,
Two hearts that beat as one.' "
'^ I compliment you on your knowledge of
poetry, Mr. Travers. I didn't think it was in
you."
Travers looked complimented.
'^ I've had an education, colonel," he said
complacently, '' though circumstances have
been against me for the last four years. As
for my friend Brandon, he's one you can rely
upon."
'' I shall probablj' require his services as
well as yoius," said Johnson. Now let me pro-
well as yours," said Johnson. 'Now let me pro-
ceed. You agree w\th me that bank capitalists
are grasping monopolists, that they grind
down the poor man, and live in luxury at the
pense of the poor laborer."
• Just my notion, colonel ! "
i
Grit. 145
" And whatever we can get out of them is
what they richly deserve to lose?"
" Just so ! "
" Well and good I I see you agree with me.
And now, friend Travers, I will tell you what
I have in view, and why it is that I need the
services of two gentlemen like you an^l your
friend. The fact is " — here Johnson dropped
the mask, being assured of the character of
his listener — " there's a good haul to be made
within three da,ys — a haul which, if success-
ful, will make all three of us easy in our cir-
cumstances for 3^ears to come/'
"" Go ahead, colonel. I'm with you, and my
friend Brandon, too. I'll answer for him. We
both need a lift mightily."
" I learn — no matter how " — said Johnson,
lowering his voice, '' that a messenger from the
bank goes to Boston day after to-morrow with
a package of thirty thousand dollars in govern-
ment bonds. He's to carry them to the Mer-
chant's National Bank in Boston. These
bonds are not registered, but coupon bonds,
and can easily be sold. They are at a premium
of fifteen or sixteen per cent., which would
bring up the value to nearly or quite thirty-
five thousand dollars."
Travers listened with eager interest. He be-
146 Grit.
gan to understand tlie serrice that was ex-
pected of him, but it did not apparently shock
him.
"Well?" he said.
" My plan," continued Colonel Johnson, *^ is
for you and your friend to follow this bank
messenger, and between here and Boston to re-
lieve him of this package. You will meet me at
a spot agreed upon in or near the city, and I
will take the package."
" You will take the package? " repeated
Travers blankly.
" Yes, but I will reward you liberally for
your service. You and Brandon will each re-
ceive from me, in case the affair succeeds, the
sum of five thousand dollars."
" I thought we would share and share alike,"
said Travers, in a tone of disappointment.
"Nonsense, man! Isn't it my plan? Am I
to reap no benefit from my own conception?
Besides, shall I not have the care and responsi-
bility of disposing of the bonds? This will
involve danger."
" So will our part involve danger," objected
Travers.
" That is true, but your hazard is small.
There will be two of you to one bank messen-
ger. Besides, I take it for granted that you
Grit. 147
will be adroit enough to relieve the messenger
without his knowing anything about it. When
he discovers his loss you will be out of sight.
It strikes me you will be rewarded very hand-
somely for the small labor imposed upon you.''
Travers made a further effort to secure bet-
ter terms, but bis new acquaintance was firm
in refusing them. The result was, that Trav-
ers unconditionally accepted for himself and
Brandon.
" When shall you see your friend Brandon,
as you call him? '' inquired the colonel.
" This very afternoon," answered Travers
promptly.
" Good ! I like your promptness."
" That is, if I can," continued Travers, a
shade doubtfully, for he remembered the sum-
mary manner in which he had been ejected
from the house of his congenial companion and
friend.
'^ Very well. Then we will postpone further
debate till you have doue so. I shall stay
at the tavern here, and you can readily find
jne."
" I will stay there, too. I was staying with
my friend Brandon, but his wife and her son
did not treat me well, and I left them. They
want to separate us — old friends as we are."
148 Grit.
" They are jealous of jou/^ suggested John-
soiij smiling.
'^ Just sOj but I'll euchre them yet."
The two walked together to the road, and
there they separated, Johnson suggesting that
it might be prudent for them not to be seen to-
gether too much.
Travers assented, and turned back in the di-
rection of the house he had recently left under
rather mortifying circumstances.
" The boy '11 be gone to his boat," he thought,
" and I don't care for the old lady. She doesn't
like me, but I can stand that. I must see my
friend Brandon, if I can."
Althought Travers decided that Grit had
returned to his boat, he approached the house
cautiously. He thought it possible that Grit
might still be on guard with the formidable
pistol which he had pointed at him an hour or
more earlier, and he did not like the looks of
the weapon.
" It might go off ! " he thought. " That
plaguy boy is awfully reckless, and he wouldn't
mind shooting a gentleman, if he felt like it.
I'd like to pitch him into the water, pistol and
all," he ejaculated fervently, in conclusion.
As I have said, Travers approached the little
cottage with cautious steps. Drawing near,
Grit. 149
he listened to see if lie could hear any sound of
voices that would betray the presence of the
boy he wished to avoid.
All was still. Nothing was to be heard but
the deep breathing of Brandon, who still lay
on the floor in a stupor. Grit was back at his
boat, and Mrs. Brandon had already left the
house and gone to spend the remainder of
the afternoon with her neighbor. Brandon
was, therefore, the only occupant of the cot-
tage.
" I hear my friend Brandon," said Travers
to himself. '^ I can hear nothing of the boy.
He must be away.''
By w^ay of ascertaining definitely, Travers
moved round to the window and peered in.
He caught sight of the prostrate figure of Bran-
don, but could see no one else.
'' It's all right," he said to himself, in a
satisfied tone.
He tried the door, and found it unlocked.
He entered, and stooping over, seized Bran-
don by the shoulder, and called him loudly by
name.
" I say, Brandon, wake up ! ''
" Go away. Grit,'' said Brandon drowsily.
" It isn't Grit. It's I— your friend Travers,"
said that gentleman.
ISO Grit.
" Thought my frien' Travers was gone/^ mut-
tered Brandon, opening his eyes.
" So I did go, but I've come back. I want to
see you on important business.'^
" 'Portant business? " repeated Brandon.
" Yes, very important business. Do yoji
want to earn five thousand dollars?"
" Five thousand dollars ! " said Brandon,
roused by this startling inquirj^ " 'Course I
do."
" Then rouse yourself, and I'll tell you all
about it. Here, let me bring you some water,
and you can dip your face in it. It will bring
you to yourself sooner than anything else."
Brandon acceded to the proposal, and was
soon in a clearer state of mind.
Travers proceeded to unfold his plan, after
learning that Mrs, Brandon was out; but he
had a listener he did not know of. Grit had
come home for something he had forgotten,
and, with his ear to the keyhole, heard the
whole plot. He listened attentively. When
all was told, he said to himself:
" I'll foil them, or my name isn't Grit! "
Grit. 151
CHAPTEE XXI.
MR. BRANDON LOSES HIS SUPPER.
When Brandon and Travers had discussed
the plan, and decided to accept the terms of-
fered by Colonel Johnson, the latter^ looking
cautiously about, inquired:
"Where's the boy?"
" Out with the boat, I expect," said Brandon.
" He's a little ruffian. I never saw such a
desperate boy of his age."
" He managed you neatly," said Brandon,
with a smile,
" Pooh ! " returned Travers, who did not like
the allusion. " I didn't want to hurt the boy."
" He didn't want to harm you," said Bran-
don, with an exasperating smile.
" I could wind him round my finger," said
Travers disdainfully. " You don't think I'm
afraid of that half-grown cub, I hope."
Grit heard this, and smiled to himself at
the evident annoyance of Travers.
As to winding me round his finger," thought
the young boatman, " I may have something
to say about that."
i52 Grit.
Brandon did not continue Iiis raillery, not
wishing to provoke the friend who had secured
him participation in so profitable a job.
"Where's the old lady?" asked Travers,
with a glance toward the staircase.
" I believe she's gone out, but Fll see.''
Brandon went to the foot of the stairs, and
called :
" Mrs. B. ! "
There was no response.
" Yes, she's gone, and the coast is clear.
Where are you staying, Travers? "
" I s'pose I'll have to stay at the hotel, un*
less you can provide for me here.''
" You'd better go to the tavern, for there
might be trouble about keepin' you here. Mrs.
B. and the boy don't like you."
" I thought you were master of the house,"
said Traverse, with mild sarcasm.
" So I am," answered Brandon, a little em-
barrassed, " but I don't want to be in hot
w^ater all the time."
" You don't want me to stay to supper, I
reckon."
"Well, I guess not to-night. Fact is, I
don't know when we shall have supper. Mrs.
B. ought to be here gettin' it ready."
" Come out and have a w^alk, BrandoB. I
Grit. 153
will introduce you to Colonel Johnson, and
we can talk this thing over."
"All right. That'll take up the time till
supper."
The two men walked over to the tavern, and
Colonel Johnson walked out with them. They
had a conference together, but it is not neces-
sary to give the details here.
A little after six o'clock Brandon directed
his steps homeward.
" I'll be a little late to supper," he said to
himself, '^ but Mrs. B. will save some for me.
I feel confoundedly hungry. Must be in the
air. There's nothing like country air to give
a man a good appetite."
Brandon opened the door of the cottage,
and went in. All was quiet and solitary, as
he had left it.
" Well. I'll be blowed ! " he ejaculated.
"What does all this mean? Where's Mrs. B.,
and Where's supper?"
He sat down, and looked about him in sur-
prise and bewilderment.
" What has become of Mrs. B.? " he thought.
" She hasn't gone and left me, just when I've
come home after an absence of five years?
That boy can't have carried her off, can
he?"
154 Grit.
Brandon did not have long to debate this
question in his own mind, for the door opened,
and Grit and his mother entered. Brandon
was relieved, but he could not forbear ex-
pressing his vexation.
'' Well, Mrs. B.," he said, " this I call pretty
goings on. Are you aware that it is nearly
seven o'clock, ma'am? '^
" I supposed it was," answered his wife
quietly.
" And you've left me to starve here, ma'am !
This is a strange time for supper."
" We've had supper," answered Grit coolly.
" Had supper ! " ejaculated Brandon, look-
ing about him. " I don't see any signs of sup-
per."
" You won't see any signs of it here," con-
tinued Grit.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean that mother and I have engaged
board at Mrs. Sprague's. We have just had
supper there."
" You have ! Well, that's a new start. It
doesn't matter much, though. I'll go over and
get mine."
" We haven't made any arrangements for
you," said Grit. " I shall pay for mother's
board and mine. You can make any bargain
you like for your board."
Grit. 155
" Well, if that isn't the meanest treatment I
ever received ! " exclaimed Brandon, in wrath
and disgust. '^ You actually begrudge me the
little I eat, and turn me adrift in the cold
world I "
" That's one way of looking at it, Mr. Bran-
don," said Grit. " Here's the other : You are
a strong ma^, in good health, and able to
work. Most men in your position expect to
support a family, but you come to live upon
my earnings, and expect me not only to pro-
vide you with board, but with money for the
purpose of drink. That isn't all ! You bring
home one of your disreputable companions,
and expect us to provide for him, too. Now, I
am willing to work for mother, and consider
it a privilege to do so, but I can't do any
more. If you don't choose to contribute to the
support of the family, you must at least take
care of yourself. I am not going to do it."
" How hard and unfeeling you are. Grit ! "
said Brandon, in the tone of a martyr. ^' Af=
ter all I have suffered in the last five years you
treat me like this."
"As to the last five years, Mr. Brandon,"
said Grit, " I should think you would hardly
care to refer to them. It was certainly your
own fault that you were not as free as I am."
156 Grit.
" I was a victim of circumstances," whined
Brandon.
" We won't discuss tliat," said Grit. " You
had a fair trial, and were sentenced to five
years' imprisonment. About the unkindness.
I should like to know VN'hat you think of a man
who deliberately takes away the means of
earning a living from his stepson, who is fill-
ing his place, and supporting his family, in
order to gratify his miserable love of drink."
" You drove me to it, Grit."
" How did I drive you to it? "
" You would not give me from your over-
flowing hoards, when I felt sick and in need
of a mild stimulus. You had sixty dollars,
and would not spare me one."
" So you sold my boat for half price, and
squandered nearly the whole proceeds in one
forenoon ! " exclaimed Grit scornfully. " Mr.
Brandon, your reasoning is altogether too thin.
We have decided to leave you to support your-
self as you can." ^
Here the glowing prospects offered by the
plan suggested by Colonel Johnson occurred
to Brandon, and his tone changed.
" You may find you have made a mistake,
Grit, you and Mrs. B.," said Brandon pom-
Grit. 157
pously. " You have snubbed and illtreated
me because jou looked upon me as a poor,
destitute, fiiendie&s mau. It's the way of the
world ! But you may regret it, and that very
soon. What will you say when I tell you that
I have a chance to earn five thousand dollars
in the next five days, eh? "
Mrs. Brandon looked surprised, for Grit had
not thought it wise to confide to his mother
what he had heard of the conversation be-
tween Travers and his stepfather. Grit, on
the other hand, was immediately interested,
for the compensation offered was one of the
things he had not overheard.
" Five thousand dollars ! '^ he repeated, ap-
pearing to be surprised.
" Yes, five thousand dollars ! '' repeated
Brandon complacently. '' That's a thousand
dollars a day! Perhaps you won't be so anx-
ious to get rid of me when I am worth my
thousands."
That's pretty good pay," said Grit quietly.
•^ What have you got to do? "
'^ That would be telling," said Brandon cun-
ningly. " It's a joint speculation of my friend
Travers and mj^self — my friend Travers, whom
you treated so badly. It's he that's brought
me this fine offer, and you insult and order
158 Grit.
him out of the house. You were just as bad
as Grit, Mrs. B.'^
" You are welcome to all you make, Mr.
Brandon," said Grit. '^ Neither my mother
nor myself will ask a penny of the handsome
sum you expect to make. You can spend it
all on yourself if you like. All we a^k is, that
you will take care of yourself, and leave us
alone."
" I mean to do so," said Brandon independ-
ently, ^^ but, as I shan't get the money for three
or four days, I should like to borrow five dol-
lars, and I'll repay you double within a week."
^' That's a very generous offer," said Grit,
" but I don't lend without better security."
" Isn't there anything to eat in the house,
Mrs. B. ? " asked Brandon, changing the sub-
ject. " I'm famished."
" You will find some cold meat, and bread,
and butter in the pantry."
Brandon went to the pantry, and satisfied
his appetite as well as he could. He then went
out, and Grit soon followed.
" Mother," he said, ^^ I have an important
call to make, but will be back soon."
It will be remembered that Mr. Courtney
had formerly been president of the bank, but
proving unpopular in consequence of his dis-
Grit. 159
position to manage it in his own interest, Mr.
Philo Graves, a manufacturer, was put in his
place. To the house of Mr. Graves Grit di-
rected his steps.
CHAPTER XXII.
BANK OFFICIALS IN COUNCIL.
Mr. Graves was at home, but he was not
alone. Mr. Courtney had dropped in, and as
he was still a director of the bank, it was natu-
ral that the conversation should turn upon
affairs of the bank in which he and Mr, Graves
had a common interest. Though no longer
president, Mr. Courtney was still anxious to
control the affairs of the bank, and to make
it of as much service to himself as possible.
He had recently become interested in certain
speculative securities, through a firm of Wall
Street brokers, and finding himself rather
cramped for monej^, desired to obtain a loan
on them from the bank. To this end he had
sought a preliminary interview with Mr.
Graves, previous to making a formal applica-
tion to the full board of directors.
" You are aware, Mr. Courtney,^' said the
president, " that to grant your request would
be contrary to the general usage of the bank."
" I ought to know the usage of the bank.
i6o Grit.
having served as president for three years,''
said Mr. Courtney. '' In my time such loans
were made." ^
Mr. Graves was aware of this, but he was
also aware that such loans had been made on
the former president's sole authority, and
either to himself or some one of his friends,
and that it was on account of this very cir-
cumstance that he had been removed from
office.
" I know that such loans were made, but T
am equally certain that such a course would
not meet the approval of the directors.''
" But," insinuated Mr. Courtney, " if you
openly favored it, and my vote as director was
given, we could probably influence enough
other votes to accomplish our object."
" I cannot say whether this would or would
not follow," said Mr. Graves, " but I am bound
to say for myself that I cannot recommend, or
vote for, granting such a loan."
" Perhaps you think I am not responsible,"
said Mr. Courtney, irritated.
" I presume you are, but that ought not to
be considered, when the question is about vio-
lating our fixed usage."
" It seems to me, considering my official con-
nection with the bank, that a point might be
etrained in my favor."
Grit. i6i
" That is not my view, Mr. Courtney ; al-
though I am novv' president, I should not care
to ask any special favor of the bank. I prefer
to be treated like any other customer."
Mr. Courtney mentally voted Graves slow
and behind the times. In his views, one great
advantage of holding a high financial position
was to favor himself and his own interests,
without special regard to the welfare of the
corporation or stockholders'.
" You wouldn't find many bank presidents
agree with you, Mr. Graves,'' said Courtney
impatiently.
" I am sorry to hear it," returned the presi-
dent gravely. ^' It seems to me that I owe a
duty to the stockholders of the bank which
ought to override any personal considera-
tions."
" You are very quixotic in your ideas," said
Courtney coldly.
" I am sure I am right, at any rate," re-
turned Graves firmly.
'' I consider your refusal unfriendly — nay,
more, I think it is calculated to throw sus-
picion on my financial position."
" Not at all. I have no reason to doubt your
financial stability, and as to the unkindness,
when I distinctly state that I would not ask
162 Grit.
such a favor for myself, you will see that I
am disposed to treat you as well as myself."
'' It may be so/' sneered Courtney, " but I
presume you are not at present in need of a
personal loan, and — circumstances alter cases,
you know."
" If you mean that I shall at any future time
ask favors for myself, which, I am not dis-
posed to grant to you, you are mistaken," said
the president.
" My financial position is as strong as
yours," said Courtney rather irrelevantly.
" Very probably you are a richer man than I
am, but as I said, that is not in question."
At this point a servant entered, and said to
the president :
" Mr. Graves, there is a boy outside who
says he wants to see you."
"What boy is it?"
" Grit Morris."
" Very well ; you can bring him in."
" The young boatman," said Courtney con-
temptuously. ^' I wouldn't allow a boy like
that to take up my time."
" He may have something of importance to
communicate. Besides, I don't set so high a
value on my time."
This will illustrate the difference between
the two men. Mr. Graves was pleasant and af-
Grit. 163
fable to all, while Mr. Courtney was stiff, and
apparently always possessed of a high idea of
his own importance and dignity. In this re-
spect, his son Phil was his counterpart
Into the presence of these two gentlemen
Grit was admitted.
^^ Good morning, Grit,'' said the president
pleasantly. '' Take a seat. Margaret tells
me you wish to see me."
'^ Yes, sir, I wish to see you on a matter of
importance."
'^ Perhaps he wants a loan from the bank,"
suggested Mr. Courtney scornfully.
'^ If Grit wanted a loan, he would not need
to apply to the bank," said Mr. Graves, in a
friendly manner. " I would lend him, myself."
" Thank you, Mr. Graves," said Grit grate-
fully, " but I don't wish any loan for myself.
My business relates to the bank, however."
Both gentlemen were rather surprised to
hear this. They could not understand what
business Grit could have with the bank.
" Go on, Grit," said Mr. Graves. " Mr.
Courtney is one of our directors, so that you
may speak freely before him."
-" I understand," commenced Grit, coming
at once to the point, ^' that you are intending
to send up thirty thousand dollars in govern-
164 Grit.
ment bonds to the Mercliants' Bank, in Bos-
ton.'^
Mr. Graves and Mr. Courtney looked at
each other in surprise. This was a bank se-
cret, and such matters were generally kept
very close with them.
" How did you learn this? " asked the presi^
dent, in surprise, '^ and if so, what can you
have to say in regard to it?"
'^ Perhaps lie wants to be ine messenger/'
said Mr. Courtney, with a derisive smile.
Grit took no notice of tliis. for his mind
was occupied with the plan of the would-be
robbers.
" I will tell you at once,'' he said. '^ There
is a plan to waylay the messenger, and relieve
him of the bonds.''
Here was a fresh surprise. JMr. Graves be-
gan to find Grit's communication of absorb-
ing interest.
'^ How do you know this? " he asked cau-
tiously.
^' Because I overheard the robbers discuss-
ing their plan."
'^ You say the robbers. Then there are
more than one? "
" Yes, there are two."
" Are you willing to tell me who they are,
Grit?"
Grit. 165
" That is wliat I came to tell jou. I am
sorry to say that one is my stepfather, as I
am obliged to call him, Mr. BrandoD."
'^ Mr. Brandon? I thought he was "
Here Mr. Graves paused, out of delieacy.
" He has been in prison until a few days
since,'' said Grit, understanding what the
president of the bank intended to say, "but
now he is free."
" And where is he? "
'^ He is living at our house. Since he got
back, he has given my mother and myself a
great deal of trouble. Not content with liv-
ing on us, he has spent what money he could
get at the tavern, and because I would give
him no more, he sold my boat without my
knowledge."
" That was bad. Grit. To whom did he
sell it? " asked Mr. Graves.
" To Mr. Courtney's son Phil ! " answered
Grit.
" My son's name is Phillip," said Mr. Court-
" My son's name is Philip," said Mr. Court-
ney stiffly.
" We boys generally call him Phil," said
Grit, smiling. " However, that doesn't mat-
ter."
" My son had a right to purchase the boat,"
said Mr. Courtney.
i66 Grit.
^' I have Dothing to say as to that, at any
rate now," returned Grit. ^^ I only mention
it to show how Mr. Brandon has treated
us.^
^^ Who was the other conspirator, Grit?"
asked Graves.
" A companion of Mr. Brandon's, named
Travers. I understand they are to be em-
ployed by a third person, now staying at the
hotel, a man named Johnson.''
" One thing more, Grit, how did you come
to hear of their plan? "
Grit answered this question fully. He re-
lated how he had overheard the conference be-
tween his step-father and Travers in the af-
ternoon.
^^ This information is of great importance,
Grit," said the president. " If, as you say,
there are three conspirators, there would be
a very good chance of their succeeding in
overpowering any messenger, and abstract-
ing the bonds. As it happens, the bonds
do not belong to the bank, but to an in-
dividual depositor, but it would be very un-
pleasant and mortifying to have them taken
from our messenger. It might lead to a sup-
position on the part of some that we didn't
keep our secrets well, but suffered a matter
as important as this to become known out-
Grit. 167
side. Mr. Courtney, what would you advise
to be done in such an emergency? ''
Courtney always looked important when
his advice was asked, and answered promptly:
'' It is a very simple matter. Put the mes-
senger on his guard. Supply him with a re-
volver, if need be, and if he is on the watch
he can't be robbed."
Mr. Graves looked thoughtful, and aps
peared to be turning over this advice in his
mind.
'' If Mr. Courtney will excuse me," Grit
said, ^^ I think there is a better plan than
that."
Courtney's lip curled.
" Ask the boy's advice, by all means, Mr.
Graves," he said, with a palpable sneer. " It
must be very valuable, considering his ex-
perience and knowledge of the world."
CHAPTER XXIII.
GRIT GIVES IMPORTANT ADVICE.
" Let me hear your idea, Grit," said Mr.
Graves courteously.
" I have little experience or knowledge of
i68 Grit.-
the world," said Grit, '^ as Mr. Courtney says,
or means to say, but it occurs to me to ask
whether you have full confidence in your mes-
senger? "
" Of course we have,'' said Mr. Courtney.
" What foolish idea have you got in your
head?"
" Tell me why this question occurs to you,
Grit?" asked the president.
'' I thought it possible that this Colonel
Johnson, who employs the conspirators, as
you call them, may have learned from the mes-
senger that he was to be entrusted with a val-
uable package of bonds."
" Why on earth should the messenger re-
veal this news to a stranger?" demanded Mr.
Courtney sharply.
" Because," said Grit quietly, not allowing
himself to be disturbed by the sneering tone
of the ex-president, "he might be well paid
for doing so."
" Nonsense I " said Mr. Courtney, but the
president of the bank said thoughtfully:
" There may be something in that."
" I am sure the messenger is faithful," as-
serted Mr. Courtney positively, but it may be
remarked that his confidence sprang rather
from a desire to discredit Grit's suggestion
Grit. 169
than from any real belief in the integrity of
the bank messenger.
" It isn't best to take this integrity for
granted in a matter where a mistake would
subject us to serious loss," observed President
Graves. '' I hope he is reliable, but I do not
shut my eyes to the fact that such a price as
he might demand for conniving with these
conspirators woukl be a strong temptation
to a poor man like Ephraim Carver.''
"What are you going to do about it?"
asked Courtney. " For my part I am free to
confess that I attach very little importance to
the astounding discovery of this young man,
who knows a good deal more, I presume,
about managing a boat than managing a
bank.''
" You are right there, Mr. Courtney," said
Grit good-naturedly. " I don't want ^Ir.
Graves to attach any more importance to my
suggestion than he thinks it deserves."
" Whatever your suggestion may be worth,
Grit," said the president of the bank, " there
can be no doubt that you have brought me
news of great importance. I shall not forget
the obligation the bank is under to you."
Mr. Courtney shrugged his shoulders.
'- The story looks to me very improbable,"
he said. " If I were still president of tlie
170 Crit.
bank, I should probably dismiss it as an idle
" Then, Mr. Courtney/' said Mr. Graves em-
fabrication. '^
phatically, '' permit me to say that you would
be wanting in your duty to the bank and its
interests."
" I understand the duties of a bank presi-
dent at least as well as you, Mr. Graves,"
said Mr. Courtney stiffly. '' After that re-
mark you will not be surprised if I bid you
good evening.''
" Good evening ! " said the president quietly,
not attempting to call back or placate the of-
fended director.
" Perhaps I had better go, too," said Grit,
rising from his chair.
"No, Grit, stay a few minutes longer; I
wish to inquire further into this affair."
" Certainly, Mr. Graves, I will stay, with
pleasure."
Mr. Courtney heard this fragment of con-
versation, and it led him to say with pointed
sarcasm, as he stood with the knob of the
door in his hand :
" Perhaps I had better resign my position,
and suggest this young boatman as bank di-
rector in my place."
" I doubt whether Grit would consider him-
self competent to discharge the duties of a
Grit. 171
director/^ said Mr. Graves, smiling. " It may
come in time.''
Mr. Courtney shut the door hastily, and left
the room.
"Mr. Courtney is rather a peculiar man;
you needn't mind him, Grit," said Mr. Graves,
when the ruffled director was gone.
" He doesn't like me very much, nor Phil,
either," said Grit. " It is lucky you are presi-
dent of the bank now, and not he, for there is
no humbug about the news I bring you."
" I consider it highly important," said Mr.
Graves, " as I have already stated. I am a
little puzzled as to what I ought to do in the
matter. As you say, the messenger himself
may be in the plot. By the way, what put
that idea into your head? "
" I didn't know how otherwise Colonel
Johnson could have learned about the bonds
being sent up to Boston."
" Frequently the messenger himself is ig-
norant of the service he is to render, but in
this particular instance it happened that I
told Mr. Carver that I should have occasion
to send him to Boston this week, and for what
purpose."
" I am sorry that one who is in any way
connected with our family should be con-
cerned in such a plot," said Grit.
172 Grit.
"Of course; that is natural. Still, you did
your duty in telling me of it. Whatever con-
sequences may follow, you have done right."
" I can't take much credit to myself for
that/' said Grit, " since I don't like Mr. Bran-
don, and it would be a great relief both to my
mother and myself if he were away."
" As I have already consulted you on this
matter, Grit," said the bank president, after
a pause, " I am disposed to consult you fur-
ther. Have you any advice to offer as to the
best course to pursue?"
" Yes', sir," answered Grit. " As long as
you don't think it presumption in me, I will
tell you of a plan I thought of as I was com-
ing here. In the first place, I w^ould send the
m.essenger as usual, without letting him know
that he was suspected."
" But that would involve risks, wouldn't
it Grit," objected Mr. Graves. "We can't af-
ford to lose the bonds."
" I did not intend that he should carry the
]>onds," continued Grit. " I would make up
a parcel, filled with old papers, of about the
same size, and let him think he was carrying
the bonds."
" So far, so good, but what of the bonds?
They would still be here, when w^e want them
delivered in Boston."
Grit. 173
^* I have thought of that," said Grit
promptly. ^^ Either a little before or a little
afterward, I would send them by another
messenger.
''Good, Grit I You're a trump!" said the
banker, his face lighting up. '^ It's a capital
plan. But one thing you have forgotten. We
shall not in this way ascertain whether the
messenger is in collusion with the conspirators
— that is, not necessarily."
" I think you can, sir. As I understand,
this is the way in which the theft will be
accom.plished : The conspirators will make
up a bundle of the same shape as the mes-
senger's, and slyly substitute it at som^e point
on the route. They will not openly rob him,
for there will be no chance of doing so with-
out attracting attention."
" If the messenger is careful, they could
not easily substitute a false for the true pack-
age."
" That is true, and that is the reason why
I think the messenger is in league with them.
If he is careless, the change can easily be
made. I understand Brandon and Travers
are to receive five thousand dollars each for
their F.ervices. and Colonel eTohnson may, per-
haps, liave offered the same sum to Mr. Car-
ver."
1 74 Grit.
" It would be a great temptation to a man
employed on a small salary like Carver/' said
Mr. Graves thoughtfully.
'^ What do you think of my plan, Mr.
Graves?^' asked Grit.
" I think it a capital one. I shall adopt it
in every detail. The only thing that remains
is to decide whom to employ to carry the
genuine package of bonds to Boston. Do you
think of any one? ''
Grit shook his head.
" No, sir, I don't know of any one."
^' I do," said the president.
"Who is it?" asked Grit, with consider-
able curiosity.
" I mean to send you ! " answered Mr.
Graves.
CHAPTEE XXIV.
WHAT GRIT OVERHEARD BEHIND THE ELM-TREE.
Grit listened with incredulous amazement
to the words of the bank president.
" You mean to send me? " he ejaculated.
" Yes," answered Mr. Graves, nodding.
" But I am only a boy ! "
"That is true; but you have shown a sa-
gacity and good judgment which justify me
in selecting you, young as you are. Of course,
Grit. 175
I shall take care that you are paid for your
time. Now, are you willing to go? ''
Willing to go to Boston, where he had not
been for five years? Grit did not take long
to consider.
" Yes," he answered promptly. " If you are
willing to trust me, I am willing to go."
" That is well," said the president. " I
need hardly caution you to keep your errand
a profound secret."
" You must not even tell your mother," con-
tinued Mr. Graves.
" But she will feel anxious if I go away
without a word to her."
" You mistake me. I would not for the
world have you give her unnecessary anxiety.
You may tell her that you are employed on an
errand which may detain you from home a
day or two, and ask her not to question you
till you return.''
" Yes, I can say that," returned Grit.
" Mother will very likely think Mr. Jackson
has employed me."
"Mr. Jackson?"
" A gentleman now staying at the hotel.
He has already been very kind to me."
If Grit had been boastful or vainglorius, he
would have p^iven the particulars of his rescue
of little Willie Jackson from drowning. As it
176 Grit.
was, he said no more than I have recorded
above.
" Very wtII," answered the president.
^^ Your mother will not, at any rate, think you
are in any mischief, as she knows you too well
for that.''
" When do you w^ant me to go, sir? " asked
Grit.
" Let me see. To-day is Wednesday, and
Friday is the day when we had decided to send
the messenger. He was to go by the morning
train. I think I vrill send you off in advance
by the evening train of Thursday. Then the
bonds will be in the bank at Boston, while the
regular messenger is still on the way.''
" That Y^ill suit me very well, sir."
" The train starts at ten o'clock. You can
be at the train at half-past nine. I will be
there at he same hour, and will have the bonds
with m.e. I will at the same time provide you
with money for the journey."
'^ All right, sir. Do you want to see me any
time to-m.orrow? "
'' No. I think it best that we should not be
too much together. Even then, I don't think
any one would suspect that I would employ
you on such an errand. Still, it will be most
prudent not to do anything to arouse sus-
picion."
Grit. 177
" Then, Mr. Graves, I will bid you good
night,'' said Grit, rising. '^ I thank yon very
much for the confidence you are going to re-
pose in me. I will do my best, so that you may-
not have occasion to repent it."
" I don't expect to repent it," said Mr.
Graves, shaking hands with Grit in a friendly
manner.
When the young boatman left the house of
the bank president, it was natural that he
should feel a thrill of pride as the thought of
the important mission on which he was to be
sent. Then again, it was exhilarating to re-
flect that he was about to visit Boston. He
had lived at Chester for five years and more,
and during that time he had once visited Port-
land. That was an exciting day for him ; but
Boston he knew was a great deal larger than
the beautiful city of which Maine people are
pardonably proud, and contained possibilities
of pleasure and excitement which filled him
with eager anticipations.
But Grit knew that his journey was under-
taken not for his own enjoyment, but was to
be an important business mission, and he re-
solved that he would do his duty, even if he
did not have a bit of fun.
As he thought over the business on which
he was to be employed, his thoughts reverted
178 Grit.
to Ephraim Carver, tbe bank messenger, and
the more he thought of him, the more he sus-
pected that he was implicated in the projected
robbery. It was perhaps this thought that led
him to make a detour so that he could pass
the house of the messenger.
It was a small cottage-house, standing back
from the street, from which a narrow lane
led to it. Connected with it were four or five
acres of land, which might have yielded quite
an addition to his income, but Mr. Carver was
not very fond of working on land, and he let
it lie fallow, making scarcely any use of it.
Until he obtained the position of bank mes-
senger he had a hard time getting a living, and
was generally regarded as rather a shiftless
man. He was connected with the wife of one
of the directors, and that was the way in
which he secured his position. Now he re-
ceived a small salary, but one on which he
might have lived comfortably in a cheap place
like Chester. But in spite of this he was dis-
satisfied, and on many occasions complained
of the difficulty he experienced in making both
ends meet.
Grit turned down the lane and approached
the house.
He hardly knew why he did so. He had no
expectation of learning anything that would
Grit. 179
tbrow light on the question whether Carver
was or was not implicated in the conspiracy.
Still, he was drawn toward the house.
The night was quite dark, but Grit knew
every step of the way, and he walked slowly
up the lane, which was probably two hundred
feet long.
He had gone, perhaps, half the distance,
when he saw the front door of Carver's house
open. Mr. Carver himself could be seen in the
doorway with a kerosene-lamp in his hand,
and at his side was a person whom with a
thrill of surprise Grit recognized as the man
staying at the hotel under the name of Colonel
Johnson.
" That looks suspicious," thought Grit. " I
am afraid the messenger is guilty."
He reflected that it would not do for either
of them to see him, as it might render them
suspicious. He took advantage of the dark-
ness, and the fact that the two were not look-
ing his way, to jump over the stone wall and
hide behind the broad trunk of the lofty elm
which stood just in that spot.
" I wish I could hear what they are saying,"
thought Grit. " Then I should know for cer-
tain if my suspicions are well founded."
The two men stood at the door for the space
of a minute or more, and then the stranger de-
i8o Grit.
parted, but not alone. Epliraim Carver took
his hat and accompanied him, both walking
slowly up the lane toward the main road.
B}' a piece of good luck, as Grit considered
it, they halted beneath the very elm-tree be-
hind which he lay concealed.
These were the first v/ords Grit heard
spoken :
" My dear friend,'' said Johnson, in bland,
persuasive accents, '' there isn't a particle of
danger in it. You have only to follow my
directions, and all will be well."
" I shall find it hard to explain how it hap-
pened that I lost the package," said Carver.
" Not at all ! You will have a facsimile in
your possession — one so like that no one need
wonder that 3^ou mistook it for the original.
Undoubtedly you will be charged with negli-
gence, but they can't prove anything more
against you. You can stand being found fault
with for five thousand dollars, can't you?"
" If that is all, I won't mind. I shall prob-
ably lose my situation."
^' Suppose you do ; it brings you in only six
hundred dollars a year, while we pay you in
one lump five thousand dollars — over eight
times as much. Why, man, the interest of this
sum at six per cent, will yield half as much as
your annual salary,"
Grit. i8i
" The bank people ought to pay me more,''
said Carver. " Two months since I asked
them to raise me to eight hundred a year, but
they wouldn't. There was only one of the
directors in favor of it — the man who married
my wife's cousin."
" They don't appreciate you, friend Car-
ver," said Johnson. '' How can they expect
you to be honest, when they treat you in so
niggardly a manner?"
'' Just so," said Carver, eager to find some
justification for his intended treachery. " If
they paid me a living salary, I wouldn't do
this thing you ask of me."
" As it is, they have only themselves to
blame," said Colonel Johnson.
" That's the way I look at it," said the bank
messenger.
'^ And quite right, too I I shouldn't be sur-
prised if you managed to keep your place,
after all. They won't suspect you of anything
more than carelessness."
'' That would be splendid ! " returned Car-
ver. '' With my salary and the interest of
five thousand dollars, I could live as com-
fortably as I wanted to. How soon shall I
receive the money? "
^^ As soon as we can dispose of the bonds
safely. It won't be long."
1 82 Grit.
Here the two men parted, and Carver re-
turned to his' house.
Grit crept out from behind the elm-tree
when the coast was clear, and made his way
home. He had learned a most important
secret, but resolved to communicate it only
to Mr. Graves.
CHAPTER XXV.
MRS. BRANDON IS MYSTIFI3D.
When Grit explained to his mother that
he was going away for a day or two on a
journey, she was naturally surprised, and
asked for particulars.
" I should like to tell you, mother," said
the young boatman, " but there are reasons
why I cannot. It is a secret mission, and the
secret is not mine.''
" That is perfectly satisfactory, Grit," said
Mrs. Brandon. ^' I have full confidence in
you, and know I can trust you."
" After I return I shall probably be able
to tell you all," said Grit. " Meanwhile, I
shall, no doubt, be paid better than if I were
ferrying passengers across the river."
" At any rate, I shall be glad to see you
back. We have not been separated for a night
for years, or, indeed, since you were born."
Grit. 183
The next day, Mr. Brandon, taught by ex-
perience that he need not look for his meals
at home, went over to the tavern to breakfast.
He felt unusually independent and elated, for
he had money in his pocket, obtained from
Colonel Johnson, and he expected soon to
receive the handsome sum of five thousand
dollars. A shrewder man, in order to avert
suspicion, would have held his tongue, at least
until he had performed the service for which
he was to be so liberally paid; but Brandon
could not forego the opportunity to boast a
little.
" It is quite possible, Mrs. B.," he said, in
the morning, ^' that I may leave you in a day
or two, to be gone a considerable time.''
Mrs. B. did not show the expected curiosity,
but received the communication in silence.
" You don't inquire where I am going,"
said Brandon.
" Where do you propose to go? " asked his
wife, whose chief feeling was that she and
Grit would now be left to their old quiet and
peace.
" I may go to Europe," said Mr. Brandon,
in an important tone.
" Isn't this a new plan? " asked Mrs. Bran-
don, really surprised.
" Yes, it is new. I shall go on business^
1 84 Grit.
Mrs. B. Mj friend Travers and I will prob
ably go together. You and Grit made a great
mistake when you treated him with rudeness.
It is through him that I am offered most re-
munerative employment.^'
^' I don't enjoy the society of your friend/'
saA:l Mrs. Brandon. " If he is likely to give
you a chance to earn something, I am glad,
but that does not excuse the rudeness with
which he treated me."
'^ My friend Travers is a gentleman, Mrs.
B., a high-toned gentleman, and if you had
treated him with the respect which is his due,
you would have had nothing to complain of.
As it is, you may soon discover that you have
made a mistake, and lost a great pleasure. I
had not intended to tell you, but I am tempted
to do so, that but for your impoliteness to
Travers, I might have taken you and Grit
with me on a European tour."
Mr. Brandon watched his wife, to see if she
exhibited severe disappointment at the daz-
zling prospect which was no sooner shown
than withdrawn, but she showed her usual
equanimity.
^' Grit and I will be quite as happy at
home," she answered.
"Sour grapes!" thought Brandon, but he
was wrong. A tour of Euroj)e taken in his
Grit. 185
campany would have no attractions for his
wife.
" Very well/' said Brandon. " You and
Grit are welcome to the charms of Pine Point.
As for me, it is too small and contracted for a
man of my business capacity."
'^ I wonder whether there is any truth in
what he says," thought Mrs. Brandon,
puzzled.
" Your business seems a profitable one," she
ventured to remark.
"It is, Mrs. B.," answered her husband
" It is of an unusually delicate nature, and
requires business talents of a high order."
" Your friend Travers does not impress one
as a man possessed of a high order of business
talent," said Mrs. Brandon.
" That is where you fail to appreciate him,
but I cannot say more. My business is secret,
and cannot be revealed."
So saying, Brandon took his hat, and with
a jaunty step walked to the hotel.
" More secrecy I " thought Mrs. Brandon.
" Grit tells me that his mission is a secret one,
and now Mr. Brandon says he, too, is engaged
in something that cannot be revealed. I know
that it is all right with Grit, but I do not feel
so sure about Mr. Brandon."
The day passed as usual. Grit plied his
1 86 Grit.
boat on the river, and did a fair day's work.
But about four o'clock he came home.
^^ You are home early, Grit/' said his
mother.
" Yes, for I must get ready to go."
He had not yet mentioned to his mother
when he was to start.
" Do you go to-morrow morning? " asked
Mrs. Brandon.
" I go to-night, and may be away for a
couple of days, mother."
Mrs. Brandon uttered an exclamation of
surprise.
" I suppose I must not ask you where you
are going," said his mother.
^' I cannot tell, for it is somebody else's
secret. One thing more, will you take care to
say as little as possible about my going away?
I would rather Mr. Brandon should not know
of it."
" I will do as you wish, Grit. By the way,
Mr. Brandon tells me he is soon going to
Europe."
Grit smiled. He knew where the money
was to come from, which his stepfather de-
pended upon to defray the expenses of a
foreign journey.
" I don't feel sure about his guing, mother/'
he ansvvered.
Grit 187
" He said he would have taken you and me
if we had treated his friend Travers more
politely/'
" Well, mother, we must reconcile ourselves
as well as we can to staying at home.''
" Home will be happy while I have you with
me, Grit."
" And Mr. Brandon away," added the young
boatman.
"Yes; I can't help hoping that he will be
able to carry out his purpose, and go to Eu-
rope, or somewhere else as far off."
" I think it very likely VN^e sha'n't see him
again for some time," said Grit, " though 1
don't think he will be traveling in Europe."
" As you and Mr. Brandon are both to be
engaged in business of a secret nature," said
Mrs. Brandon, smiling, '' I don't know but I
ought to follow your example."
" I have full confidence in you, mother,
whatever you undertake," said Grit, with a
laugh, repeating his mother's own words.
Evening came on, and Grit stole out of the
house early, lest his stepfather might by some
chance return home, and suspect something
from his unusual journey.
He need not have been alarmed, for Bran-
don did not leave the tavern till ten o'clock,
1 88 Grit.
though he, too, expected to leave town the
next morning.
When he returned he didn't inquire for
Grit, vrhom he supposed to be abed and asleep.
" Mrs. B.," he said, '^ I must trouble you
to wake me at seven o'clock to-morrow morn-
ing. I am going to take the early train to
Portland."
" Verv well."
" And as it will be rather inconvenient for
me to go out to breakfast, I would be glad
if you would give me some breakfast before
I go."
'' I will do so," said his wife.
" It maj be some time before I see you
again, as I am to go away on business."
" I hope you may be successful," said Mrs.
Brandon.
Brandon laughed queerly.
^^ If the old lady knew that I was going to
steal some government bonds, she would hesi-
tate a little before she wished me success," he
thought, but he said :
" Thank you, Mrs. B., your good wishes are
appreciated, and I may hereafter be able to
show my appreciation in a substantial way.
I suppose Grit is asleep."
Mrs. Brandon did not answer, finding the
question an embarrassing one.
Grit. 189
The next morning Brandon, contrary to Ms
wont, showed considerable alacrity in dress-
ing, and did justice to the breakfast his wife
had set before him.
" Well, good-b^'C, Mrs. B.," he said, as he
took his hat and prepared to leave the house.
" Perhaps I had better go up-stairs and bid
good-by to Grit, as I may not see him again
for some time."
Grit is out," said Mrs. Brandon hastily,
for she did not wish her husband to go up to
Grit's room, as he would discover that his bed
had not been slept in.
"Out already?'' said Brandon. "He's
made an early start. Well, bid him good-by
for me."
" It's very strange," repeated Mrs. Bran-
don, as she cleared away the breakfast dishes;
"' there's -Grit gone, I don't know where, and
now Mr. Brandon has started off on some
mysterious business. What can it all mean? ''
CHAPTEK XXYI.
THE FALL RIVER MANUFACTURER.
Grit lost no time in prosecuting his jour-
ney. In Portland he found that he should
need to stay over a few hours, and repaired
190 Grit.
to the United States Hotel. He left word to
be called early, as lie wished to take a morn-
ing train to Boston.
At the breakfast-table he found himself sit-
ting next to a man of swarthy complexion
and bushy black whiskers.
" Good morning, my young friend/^ said the
stranger, after a scrutinizing glance.
■' Good morning, sir,'^ said Grit politely.
'^ Are you stopping at this hotel? '^
"■ For the present, yes," answered the young
boatman.
^^ Are you going farther?''
" I think of it," said Grit cautiously.
'' Perhaps you are going to Boston," pro-
ceeded the stranger.
" I may do so," Grit admitted.
" I am glad of it, for I am going, too. If
agreeable, we will travel in company."
" I suppose we shall go on the same train? "
said Grit evasively.
" Just so. I am going to Boston on busi-
ness. You, I suppose, are too young to have
business of any importance? "
" Boys of my age seldom have business of
importance," said Grit, resolved to baffle the
evident curiosity of the stranger.
" Exactly. I suppose you have relations' in
Boston? "
Grit. 191
•
*^ I once lived in that neighborhood," said
Grit.
'^ Just so. Are you going to stay long in
the city? ''
" That depends on circumstances? ''
" Do you live in this State? "
" At present I do."
The man looked a little annoyed, for he saw
that Grit was determined to say as little about
himself as possible. He decided to set the boy
an example of frankness.
"I do not live in Maine," he said; "I am
a manufacturer in Fall Eiver, Mass. I sup-
pose you have heard of Fall River? "
^^Oh, yes!"
" It is a right smart place, as a Philadel-
phian would say. You never heard of Town*
send's Woolen Mill, I dare say? "
" No, I never have."
" It is one of the largest mills in Fall River.
I own a controlling interest in it. I assure
you I wouldn't take a hundred thousand dol-
lars for my interest in it."
" You ought to be in very easy circum-
stances," said Grit politely, though it did
occur to him to wonder why the owner of a
controlling interest in a large woolen mill
should be attired in such a rusty suit.
" I am," said the stranger complacently.
x;2 Grit.
'' Daniel Townsend's income — I am Daniel T.,
at your service — for last year was twelve thou-
sand three hundred and sixty-nine dollars.^'
" This gentleman seems very communica-
tive," thought Grit.
" Your income was rather larger than
mine," he said.
'^ Ho, ho I I should say so," laughed Mr.
Townsend. ^^ Are you in any business, my
young friend? "
" I am connected with navigation," said
Grit.
"Indeed?" observed Townsend, appearing
puzzled. " Do you find it a paying business? "
" Tolerably so, but I presume woolen man-
ufacturing is better? "
"Just so," assented Townsend, rather
absently.
At this point Grit rose from the table, hav-
ing finished his breakfast.
" Mr, Tow^nsend seems very social," thought
our hero, " but I think he is given to romanc-
ing. I don't believe he has anything more to
do Avith a woolen mill in Fall River than I
have."
Grit reached the station in time, and took
his seat in the train. He bought a morning
paper, and began to read.
" Ah, here j^ou are, my young friend I " fell
Grit. 193
on liis ears just after they passed Saco, and
(}rit, looking up^ saw his breakfast com-
panion.
^^ Is the seat beside you taken? '' asked Mr.
Daniel Townsend.
Grit would like to have said "yes," but he
was compelled to admit that it was unen-
gaged.
" So much the better for me," said the
^voolen manufacturer, and he sat down beside
our hero.
He had with him a small, well-worn valise,
which looked as if in some remote period it
had seen better days. He laid it down, and,
looking keenly about, observed Grit's parcel,
which, j:hough commonplace in appearance,
contained, as we know, thirtj^ thousand dol-
lars in government bonds.
"It is rather a long ride to Boston," said
Mr. Townsend.
" Yes ; but it seems shorter when you have
something to read," answered Grit, looking
wistfully at his paper, which he would have
preferred reading to listening to the conversa-
tion of his neighbor.
" I never care to read 01? the cars," said
Mr. Townsend. " I think it is injurious to
the eyes. Do you ever find it so? "
194 Gl^^i^*
" I have not traveled enough to be able to
judge/' said Grit.
" Verj' likely. At your age I had traveled
a good deal. My father was a rich merchant,
and as I was fond of roving, he sent me on
a voyage to the Mediterranean on one of his
vessels. I was sixteen at that time."
^' I wonder whether this is true, or not,"
thought Grit.
" I enjoyed the trip, though I was seasick
on the Mediterranean. It is really more try-
ing than the ocean, though you might not
imagine it. Don't you think you would enjoy
a trip of that sort? "
" Yes ; I am sure I would," said Grit, with
interest.
" Just so ; most boys of your age are fond
of traveling. Perhaps I might find it in my
way to gratify your wishes. Our corporation
is thinking of sending a traveler to Europe.
You are rather young, but still I might be able
to get it for you."
'^ You know so little about me," said Grit
sensibly, " that I wonder you should think of
me in any such connection."
" That is true. I don't know anything of
you, except what you have told me."
** That isn't much," thought Grit.
"And it may be necessary for me to know
Grit. 195
more. I will ask jou a few questions, and
report jour answers to our directors at their
meeting next week.'^
'^ Thank you, sir; but I think we will post-
pone discussing the matter this morning.'^
'^ Is any time better than the present? " in-
quired Townsend.
Grit did not care to say much about himself
until after he had fulfilled his errand in the
city. He justly felt that with such an im-
portant charge it was necessary for him to
use the greatest caution and circumspection.
Still, there was a bare possibility that the
man beside him was really what he claimed
to be, and might have it in his power to give
him a business commission which he would
enjoy.
" If you will call on me at the Parker House
this evening/' said Grit, '' I will speak with
you on the subject."
^' Whom shall I inquire for? '' asked the
Fall River manufacturer.
'^ You need not inquire for any one. You
will find me in the reading-room at eight
o'clock."
" Very well," answered Mr. Townsend, ap-
pearing satisfied.
The conversation drifted along till they
reached Exeter.
196 Grit.
Then Mr. Townsend rose in haste, and, seiz-
ing Grit's bundle instead of his own, hurried
toward the door.
Grit sprang after him and snatched the
precious package.
" You have made a mistake, Mr. Town-
send," he said, eyeing his late seat companion
with distrust.
^' Why, so I have!'' ejaculated Townsend,
in apparent surprise. ^' By Jove ! it's lucky
you noticed it. That little satchel of mine
contains some papers and certificates of great
value."
^^ In that case T would advise you to be
more careful," said Grit, who did not believe
one word of the last statement.
" So I will," said Townsend, taking the
satchel. '' I am going into the smoking-car.
Won't you go with me? "
"^o, thank you."
" I have a spare cigar," urged Townsend.
" Thank you again, but I don't smoke."
" Oh, well, you're right, no doubt, but it's
an old habit of mine. I began to smoke when
I was twelve years old. My wife often tells
me I am injuring my health, and perhaps T am.
Take the advice of a man old enough to be
your father, and don't smoke,"
Grit. 197
" That's good advice, sir, and I shall prob-
ably follow it."
'^ Well, good day, if we don't meet again,"
said Townsend.
Mr. Townsend, instead of passing into the
smoking-car, got off the train. Grit observed
this, and was puzzled to account for it, par-
ticularly as the train started on, leaving him
standing on the platform.
A few minutes later the conductor passed
through the train, calling for tickets.
Grit looked in vain for his, and, deciding
that he should have to pay the fare over again,
he felt for his pocketbook, but that, too, was
missing.
He began to understand why Mr. Townsend
left the train at Exeter.
CHAPTER XXVII.
A FRIEND IN NEED.
The conductor waited while Grit was
searching for liis ticket. He was not the same
one who started with the train, so that he
could not know whether our hero had shown
a ticket earlier in the journey.
" I can't find my ticket or my money," said
Grit, perplexed.
'^ Then you will have to leave the train at
198 Grit.
the next station," said the conductor suspic-
iously.
" It is very important that I should proceed
on my journey," pleaded Grit. " I will give
you my name, and send you the money."
^' That won't do, youngster," said the con-
ductor roughly. " I have heard of that game
before. It won't go down."
" There is no game about it," said Grit.
My ticket and pocketbook have been stolen."
" Of course," sneered the conductor. " Per-
haps you can point out the thief."
" No, I can't, for he has left the train. He
got out at Exeter."
" Very likely. You can take the next train
back and find him."
" Do you doubt that I had a ticket? " asked
Grit, nettled by the conductor's evident in-
credulity.
" Yes, I do, if you want the truth. You
want to steal a ride; that's what's the matter."
" That is not true," said Grit. " I am sure
some of these passengers have seen me show
my ticket. Didn't you, sir? "
He addressed this question to a stout old
gentleman who sat in the seat behind him.
" Really, I couldn't say," answered the old
gentleman addressed. " I was reading mj
paper, and didn't take notice."
Grit. 199
The conductor looked more incredulous
than ever.
" I can't waste any more time with you,
young man," he said. " At the next station
you must get out."
Grit was very much disturbed. It was not
pleasant to be left penniless at a small sta-
tion, but if he had been left alone he would
not have cared so much. But to have the
custody of thirty thousand dollars' worth of
government bonds', under such circumstances,
was certainly embarrassing. He could not
get along without money, and for a tramp
without money to be in charge of such a treas-
ure was ample cause of suspicion.
What could he do?
The train was already going slower, and it
was evident that the next station was near at
hand.
Grit was trying in vain to think of some
way of securing a continuation of his journey,
When a stout, good-looking lady of middle age,
who sat just opposite, rose from her seat and
seated herself beside him.
" You seem to be in trouble," she said
kindly.
" Yes, ma'am," answered Grit. " My ticket
and money have been stolen, and the conduc-
tor threatens to put me off the train."
200 Grit.
" So I heard. Who do you think robbed
you?"
" The man who sat beside me and got out
at Exeter.''
" I noticed him. I wonder you didn't detect
him in the act of robbing you."
" So do I," answered Grit. " He must be a
professional. All the same, I am ashamed
of being so taken in."
" I heard you say it was important for you
to reach Boston."
" It is," said Grit.
He was about to explain why, when it oc-
curred to him that it would not be prudent
in a crowded car, which might contain sus-
picious and unprincipled persons, to draw
attention to the nature of his packet.
" I can't explain why just at present," he
said ; " but if any one would lend me money
to keep on my journey I would willingly re-
pay the loan two for one."
At this point the train came to a stop, and
the conductor, passing through the car, ad-
dressed Grit:
" Young man, you must get out at this sta-
tion."
" No, he needn't," said the jstout lady de-
cidedly. " Here, my young friend, pay your
Grit. • 201
fare out of this," and she drew from a pearl
portemonnaie a ten-dollar bill.
Grit's heart leaped for joy. It was such
an intense relief.
"How can I ever thank you?" he said
oratefully, as he offered the change to his new
friend.
" No," she said; " keep the whole. You will
need it, and you can repay me whenever you
find it convenient."
" That will be as soon as I get home," said
Grit promptly. '^ I have the money there."
" That will be entirely satisfactory."
" Let me know your name and address,
madam," said Grit, taking out a small memo-
randum-book, '^ so that I may know where to
send."
" Mrs. Jane Bancroft, No. 37 Mount Ver-
non Street," said the lady.
Grit noted it down.
"Let me tell you mine," he said. " My
name is Harry Morris, and I live in the town
of Chester, in Maine."
" Chester? I know that place. I have a
cousin living there, or, rather, I should say,
a cousin of my late husband."
"Who is it, Mrs. Bancroft?" asked Grit.
" I know almost everybod}^ in the village."
202 Grit.
" Mr. Courtney. I believe lie has somethiDg
to do with the bank."
" Yes, he is a director. He was once presi-
dent."
^'Exactly. Do you know him?"
" Yes^ ma'am. I saw him only a day or
two before I left."
" I presume you know his son Philip, alsa^'
"Oh, yes, I know Phil," said Grit.
" Is he a friend of yours? " asked the lady
curiously.
" No, I can't say that. We don't care much
for each other."
" And whose fault is that? " asked the lady,
smiling.
"I don't think it is mine. I have always
treated Phil well enough, but he doesn't think
me a suitable associate for him."
"Why?"
" Because I am poor, while he is the son
of a rich man."
" That is as it may be," said the lady, shrug-
ging her shoulders. " Money sometimes has
wings. So you are not rich?"
" I have to work for a living."
"What do you do?"
" I ferry passengers across the Kennebec,
and in that way earn a living for my mother
and myself."
Grit. 203
" Do you make it pay? "
'' I earn from seven to ten dollars a week."
" That is doing very well for a boy of your
age. What sort of a boy is Phil? Is he popu-
lar?^'
" I don't think he is."
"Why?"
" He is your nephew, Mrs. Bancroft, and I
don't like to criticize him."
"Never mind that. Speak freely."
" He puts on too many airs to be popular.
If he would just forget that his father is a
rich man, and meet the rest of the boys on an
equality, I think we should like him well
enough."
" That is just the opinion I have formed of
him. Last winter he came to make me a
visit, but I found him hard to please. He
wanted a great deal of attention, and seemed
disposed to order my servants about, till I
was obliged to check him."
" I remember hearing him say he was going
to visit a rich relative in Boston," said Grit.
Mrs. Bancroft smiled.
" It was all for his own gratification, no
doubt," she said. " So your name is Harry
Morris?"
" Yes, but I am usually called Grit."
" A good omen. It is a good thing for any
2 04 Grit.
bo}' — especially a poor boy — to possess grit.
Most of our successful men were poor boys,
and most of them possessed this quality.''
'' You encourage me, Mrs. Bancroft/' said
our hero. ^' I want to succeed in life, for my
mother's sake especially."
^' I think you will ; I have little knowledge
of you, but you seem like one born to prosper.
How long are you going to stay in Boston?"
^^ Till to-morrow, at any rate."
" You will be in the city overnight, then.
Where did you think of staying? "
^^ At the Parker House."
" It is an expensive hotel. Y^ou had better
stay at my house."
'^ At your house? " exclaimed Grit, sur-
prised.
'^Yes; I may want to ask more questions
about Chester. We have tea at half-past six.
That will give you plenty of time to attend
to your business. I shall be at home any time
after half-past five. Will you come?".
" With pleasure," said Grit politely.
" Then I will expect you."
Mrs. Bancroft returned to her seat. Our
hero mentally congratulated himself on mak-
ing so agreeable and serviceable a friend.
" What will Phil say when he learns that I
Grit. 205
have been the guest of his fashionable rela-
tives in Boston? '' thought he.
In due time the train reached Boston, and
Grit lost no time in repairing to the bank.
CHAPTER XXVIII.
THE TRAIN ROBBERY.
When Grit had delivered the bonds at the
bank, a great load seemed to be lifted from his
shoulders. Especially after he had been
robbed on the train, he realized the degree of
risk and responsibility involved in the custody
of so valuable a packet.
The officials at the bank seemed surprised
at the youth of the messenger, but Grit felt
at liberty to explain why he was selected as
a substitute for the regular messenger.
Leaving our hero for a time, we go back
to Chester to speak of other characters in
our story.
Ephraim Carver, the bank messenger, went
to the bank at the hour of opening to receive
the package of bonds which he expected to
convey to Boston. He had no suspicion that
his negotiations of a previous evening had
been overheard and reported to the president.
He felt somewhat nervous, it is true, for he
2o6 Grit.
felt that a few hours would make him a rich
man. Then the risk involved^ though he did
not consider it to be great, was yet sufficient
to excite him.
He was admitted into the president's room,
as usual.
Mr. Graves was already in his office, but his
manner was his ordinary one, and the mes-
senger did not dream that the quiet official
read him through and through and under-
stood him thoroughly.
'' You know, I suppose, Mr. Carver,'' said
President Graves, " that you are to go to
Boston by the next train.''
'' Yes, sir."
" The packet you will carry is of unusual
value, and requires an unusual degree of care
and caution."
^^Yes, sir.'^
^' It contains thirty thousand dollars in
government bonds," said the president, laying
his hand on the prepared packet, which was
in the usual form. " That is a fortune in
itself," he added, closely scrutinizing the face
of the messenger. He thought he detected a
transient gleam of exultation in the eyes of
the bank messenger.
" Of course," he proceeded, " if it were
known that 3^ou carried a packet of such
Grit. 207
value, there would be great danger of your
being robbed. Indeed, you might be in some
personal danger.'^
^^ Yes, sir/'
" But as it is only known to you and the
officers of the bank, there is no special danger.
Still, I advise you to be more than usually
vigilant, on account of the value of your
charge."
" Oh, yes, sir, I shall take g^d care of it,''
answered Carver, reaching out his hand for
the packet.
" Let me see, how long have you been in
the employ of the bank? " asked the president.
" Nearly three years, sir."
" You have found it a light, easy position,
have you not? "
" Yes, sir, though, if you will allow me to
say so, the salary is small."
" True ; but the expenses of living in
Chester are small, also. However, we will not
discuss that question now. Possibly at the
end of the year, if they continue satisfied with
you, the directors may increase your salary
slightly. There cannot be a large increase.'^
" I may not need an increase then," thought
Carver. " With five thousand dollars to fall
back upon, I shall feel independent."
" You will report to me when you return,'*
2o8 Grit.
said Mr. Graves, as the messenger left the
bank parlor.
" Yes, sir, directly."
The president fixed his eyes upon the vanish-
ing figure of the messenger, and said to him-
self :
" My friend, you have deliberately planned
jour own downfall. Greed of money has
made you dishonest, but your plans are des-
tined to miscarry, as this time to-morrow you
and your confederates will be made aware."
" Now," thought the bank messenger, as he
bent his steps toward the railway station,
^^ the path is clear. Here is what will com-
pletely change my fortunes, and lift me from
an humble dei)endent to a comfortable posi-
tion in life."
Then he thought, with some dissatisfaction,
that he was to receive but one-sixth of the
value of the bonds, and that the man who em-
ployed him to betray his trust would be much
more richly paid. However, in his case, there
would be no risk of being personally impli-
cated. No one could prove that he had al-
lowed himself to be robbed. Even if suspicion
fastened upon him, nothing could be proved.
So, on the whole, perhaps it was better to be
content with one-sixth than to incur greater
Grit. 209
risk, and the dread penalty of imprisonment
for a term of years.
On the railroad platform Carver glanced
furtively about him. He easily recognized
Brandon and Travers, who stood side by side,
each having provided himself with a ticket.
They on their side also glanced swiftly at
him, and then turned away with a look of
indifference. But they had not failed to notice
the important packet which the bank mes-
senger carried in his hand.
" It is all right ! " was the thought that
passed through their minds.
There was another passenger waiting for
the train, whom they did not notice. He was
a small, quiet, unpretentious-looking man, at-
tired in a suit of pepper and salt, and looked
like a retail merchant in a small way, going
to Portland or Boston, to order goods. They
would have been very much startled had they
known that it was a Boston detective, who
had been telegraphed for by Mr. Graves, and
that his special business was to follow them
and observe their actions.
When the train reached the station Carver
got in, and took a seit by himself in the
second car. Just behind him sat the two
COD federates, Brandon and Travers, and in
line with them, on the oi^posite side of the car,
210 Grit.
sat the quiet man, whom we will call Denton.
Ten minutes before the train reached Port-
land Ephraim Carver left his seat, and very
singularly forgot to take the parcel, of which
he had special custody, with him. It was a
remarkable piece of forgetfulness, truly.
But his oversight was not unobserved.
Travers sprang from his seat, took the parcel,
and following the messenger overtook him at
the door of the car.
He tapped Carver on the shoulder, and
the latter turned round.
'^ I beg pardon," said Travers, " but you
left this on the seat."
As he spoke he handed a packet to Carver.
" A thousand thanks ! " said the messenger
hurriedly. " I was very careless. I am very
much indebted to you."
" I thought the packet might contain some-
thing valuable," said Travers.
" At any rate, I should not like to lose it,"
said the messenger, who appeared to be
properly on his guard.
" Oh, don't mention it," said Travers'
politely, and he walked back and resumed his
seat beside Brandon.
The quiet man, to whom we have already
referred, noted this little piece of acting with
a smile of enjoyments
Grit. 211
"Very well done, good people," lie said
to himself. " It ought to succeed, but it
won't."
His sharp eyes had detected what the other
passengers had not — that Travers had skil-
fully substituted another package for the one
he had picked up from the seat vacated by
Carver.
Carver passed on into the next car, and
Denton now concentrated his attention upon
Brandon and Travers.
He noticed in both traces of joyful excite-
ment, for which he could easily account.
They thought they had succeeded, and each
mentally congratulated himself on the acqui-
sition of a neat little fortune.
" They will get out at Portland," thought
Denton, ^^ and take account of their booty. I
should like to be there to see, but I am in-
structed to follow my friend the bank mes-
senger to Boston, and must, therefore, forego
the pleasure."
At Portland, Brandon and Travers got out
of the cars, and took a hack to the Falmouth
Hotel.
They went to the office, and, calling for the
hotel register, carefully scanned the list of
arrivals.
212 Grit.
The afternoon previous they found entered
the name of Colonel Johnson.
"Is Colonel Johnson in?'' asked Brandon.
" We will ascertain," was the reply.
The bell-boy who was despatched to inquire
returned with the message that Colonel John-
son would see the gentlemen.
They followed the attendant to a room on
the third floor, where they found their em-
ployer pacing the room in visible excitement.
" Give me the parcel/' he said, in a peremp-
tory tone.
He cut the strings, and hastily opened the
coveted prize.
But his eager look was succeeded by black
disappointment, as, instead of the bonds, he
saw a package of blank paper of about the
same shape and size.
" Confusion I " he ejaculated ; " what does
all this mean? What devil's mess have you
made of the business?"
CHAPTER XXIX.
THE CONSPIRATORS ARE PERPLEXED.
Johnson's hasty exclamation was heard
with blank amazement by his two confeder-
ates.
"What do you mean, Colonel? Ain't the
bonds ti)er{'? " asked Travers,
Grit. 213
"Do jou call these bonds?" demanded
Johnson savagely, as he pointed to the neatly
folded brown paper. " You must have brought
back your own parcel, and left the genuine
one with the bank messenger."
" No," said Travers, shaking his head; " our
package was filled with old newspapers. This
is different.''
" It is evidently only a dummy. Was it
the only parcel Carver had? "
" Yes, it was the only one."
" Is it possible the villain has fooled us? "
said Johnson, frowning ominously. '^ If he
has, we'll get even with him — I swear it ! "
^' I don't know what to think, colonel," said
Travers. ^^ You can tell better than I, for you
saw him about this business."
" He didn't seem like it, for he caught at
my suggestion greedily. There's another pos-
sibility," added Johnson, after a pause, with a
searching glance at his' two confederates.
'^ How do I know but you two have secured
the bonds, and palmed off this dummy upon
me?"
Both men hastily disclaimed doing anything
of the kind, and Johnson was forced to be-
lieve them, not from any confidence he felt
in them, but from his conviction that they
214 Grit.
were not astute enough to think of any such
treachery.
" This must be looked into," he said slowly.
" There has been treachery somewhere. It lies
between you and the messenger, though I did
not dream that either would be up to such a
thing."
^^ You don't think the bank people did it, do
you?" suggested Brandon.
" I don't know," said Johnson slowly. " I
oan't understand how they could learn what
was in the wind, unless one of you three
blabbed."
Of course, Travers and Brandon assever-
ated stoutly that they had not breathed a
word to any third party.
Johnson was deeply perplexed, and re-
mained silent for five minutes.
At length he announced his decision,
" We can do nothing, and decide upon noth-
ing," he said, ^' till we see Carver. He went
on to Boston, I conclude? "
" Yes, sir."
" He will be back to-morrow. We must
watch the trains, and intercept him."
Leaving this worthy trio in Portland, we
follow Ephraim Carver to Boston. As the
cars sped on their way, he felt an uneasy ex-
citement as he thought of his treachery, and
Grit. 215
lie feared he should look embarrassed when
he was called to account hj the Boston bank
officials. But there was a balm in the thought
of the substantial sum he was to receive as
the rcAvard of his wrongdoing. That, he
thought, would well repay him for the bad
quarter of an hour he would pass in Boston.
" Five thousand dollars ! Five thousand
dollars ! '' This was the burden of his
thoughts as he considered the matter. " It
will make me independent. If I can keep my
post, I will, and I can then afford to be faith-
ful to the bank. If they discharge me, I will
move away, for my living without work, and
having money to spend, would attract sus-
picion if I continued to live in Chester. Some-
where else I can go into business for myself.
I might stock a small dry-goods store, for in-
stance. I must inquire into the chances of
making a living at that business.''
So, in spite of his treachery, Ephraim Car-
ver, on the whole, indulged in pleasing re-
flections, so that the railroad journey seemed
short.
Arrived in Boston, he found that he had
just time to go to the bank and deliver his
parcel within banking hours'.
" I may as well do it, and have it over
with," he said to himself,
2i6 Grit.
So, with a return of nervousness, which he
tried to conceal by outward indifference, he
made his way to the bank to which he was
commissioned.
He had been there before, and was recog-
nized when he entered.
He was at once conducted into the presence
of the president.
To him he delivered the parcel of bonds.
" That will do, Mr. Carver," said the presi-
dent. " You may go outside while I examine
them.''
He was ushered into the ordinary room,
and waited five minutes. He was trying to
brace himself for an outburst of surprise,
perhaps of stormy indignation, and search-
ing cross-examination, when the president
presented himself at the door of his private
office.
" That will do/' he said. " You can go, Mr.
Carver."
Carver stared at him in blank amazement.
This was precisely what he did not expect.
" Have yoa examined the bonds? " ho asked.
" Of course," answered the president.
"And you find them all right?" continued
the messenger, with irrepressible surprise.
" T suppose so," answered the president.
" I will examine more carefully presently."
Grit. 217
" Then you don't wish me to stay? " in-
quired Carver.
" No; there is no occasion to do so.''
Ephraim Carver left the bank in a state of
stupefaction.
" What can it all mean? " he asked himself.
" The man must be blind as a bat if he didn't
discover that the package contained no bonds.
I don't believe he opened it at all."
So Carver was left in a state of uncertainty.
On the whole he wished that the substitution
had been discovered, so that the president
could have had it out with him. Now he
felt that a sword was impending over his
head, which might fall at any time. This
was unpleasant, for he did not know what to
expect.
He went back to Portland by a late train,
however, as he had arranged to do.
At the depot he met Colonel Johnson. He
was puzzled to find that Johnson did not look
as jubilant as he anticipated, now that their
plot had succeeded. On the other hand, he
looked grave and stern.
"Well, colonel, how goes it?" he asked.
" That is for you to say," returned Johnson.
" You have seen Brandon and Travers, I
suppose? "
'^ Yes, I have seen them."
2i8 Grit.
" Then it's all right, and the parcel is in
your hands."
" He takes it pretty coolly," thought John-
son. " I can't understand what it means. I
must get to the bottom of this thing. Well,
how did they take it at the bank? " he added,
aloud. " Did they make any fuss? "
" No," ansAvered the bank messenger.
Johnson was surprised.
" They didn't question you about the parcel
you brought them ? "
" No ; they told me it was' all right, and let
me go."
" Then they must have got the bonds," said
Johnson hastily.
'^ What ! haven't you got them ? " asked the
messenger, in genuine surprise.
" No," said Johnson bitterly. " The fools
brought me a package stuffed with sheets of
brown paper."
Carver stared at him in open-mouthed
amazement.
" I don't understand it," he said. " I can't
account for any parcel of the kind."
" They couldn't have made the exchange at
all. This must have been their own parcel."
" No," said Carver ; " their's was stuffed
with old newspapers."
" That was what they said."
Grit. 219
" They told tlie truth. I helped them make
up the parcel myself."
" Then it must have been their parcel that
is now in the hands of the bank.''
" It seems likely."
" Then where are the bonds? " demanded
Johnson sternly.
" That is more than I can tell," said the
bank messenger, in evident perplexity.
" It's enough to make a man tear his hair
to have such a promising scheme miscarry,"
said Johnson gloomily. " I wish I could lay
my finger on the man that's responsible for
it."
" I can't understand it at all, colonel. We
followed out your instructions to the letter:
Everything went off smoothly."
" Can you tell me where are the bonds? "
interrupted Johnson harshly.
" No, I can't."
" Then you may as well be silent."
" I will follow your directions," said Carver
submissively. " What do you wish me to
do?"
Johnson reflected a moment. Finally he
said :
^^ Take the earliest morning train to
Chester. I will stay here. So will the other
two men."
220 Grit.
"Anything further?"
" Only this : Keep your eyes and ears open
when you get home. If you hear anything
that will throw light on this affair, write or
telegraph, or send a special messenger, so that
I may act promptly on your information. Do
you understand? "
" Yes, sir. Your directions shall be fol-
lowed. I am as anxious as you are to find
out why we failed."
CHAPTER XXX.
GRIT IS BETRAYED.
In sending Grit to Boston instead of the
regular messenger, President Graves had
acted on his own responsibility, as he had a
right to do, since it was a matter to be de-
cided by the executive. He might, indeed,
have consulted the directors, but that would
have created delay, and might have en-
dangered the needful secrecy. When, how-
ever. Grit returned and reported to him that
his mission had been satisfactorily accomp-
lished, he informed the directors of what had
been done at a special meeting summoned at
his own house. All approved the action ex-
cept Mr. Courtney, who was prejudiced
Grit. 221
against Grit, and, moreover, felt offended be-
cause his own counsel had not been asked or
regarded.
" It seems to me," he said, with some heat,
" that our president has acted in a very rash
manner.''
" How^ do you make that out, Mr. Court-
ney?" interrogated that official.
" It was actually foolhardy to trust a boy
like Grit Morris with a package of such
value.''
"Why?" inquired Graves.
"Why? He is only a common boy, who
makes a living by ferrying passengers across
the river."
" Does that prevent his being honest? "
" A valuable package like that would be a
powerful temptation to a boy like that," as-
serted Courtney.
" The package was promptly delivered,"
said Mr. Graves dryly.
" He says so," sneered Courtney.
" Pardon me, Mr. Courtney, I have had ad-
vice to that effect from the Boston bank,"
said the president blandly.
" Well, I'm glad the danger has been
averted," said Courtney, rather discomfited.
" All the same, T blame your course as hazar-
dous and injudicious. I suppose the boy was
222 Grit
afraid to appropriate property of so much
value.''
" I think, Mr. Courtney, you do injustice to
Grit/' said Mr. Saunders, another director.
" I am satisfied that he is strictly honest."
" Perhaps you'd be in favor of appointing
him regular bank messenger," said Courtney,
with a sneer.
" I should certainly prefer him to Ephraim
Carver."
" I consider Carver an honest man."
" And I have positive proof that he is not
honest," said the president. '' I have proof,
moreover, that he was actually in league with
the man who plotted to rob the bank."
This statement made a sensation, and the
president proceeded :
" Indeed, I have called this extra meeting
partly to suggest the necessitj^ of appointing
in Carver's place a man in whom we can re-
pose confidence."
Here he detailed briefly the conversation
which Grit overheard between the bank mes-
senger and Colonel Johnson. It impressed
all, except Mr. Courtney.
" All a fabrication of that boy, I'll be
bound," he declared. " I am surprised, Mr.
Graves, that you should have been humbugged
by such a palpable invention."
Grit. 223
" What could have been the boy's object in
inventing such a story, allow me to ask, Mr.
Courtney? "
^^ Oh, he wanted to worm himself into our
confidence," said Courtney. " Very likely he
wished to be appointed bank messenger,
though that would, of course, be preposter-
ous.''
'^ Gentlemen," said President Graves, " as
my course does not seem to command entire
approval, I will ask those of you who think I
acted with discretion to signify it."
All voted in the affirmative except Mr.
Courtney.
" I regret, Mr. Courtney, that you disap-
prove my course," said the president ; " but I
continue to think it wise, and am glad that
your fellow directors side with me."
Soon after the meeting dissolved, and Mr.
Courtney went home verj^ much dissatisfied.
Nothing was done about the appointment of
a new messenger, the matter being postponed
for three days.
When Mr. Courtney went home he did a
very unwise thing. He inveighed in the pres-
ence of his family against the course of Presi-
dent Graves, though it w^as a matter that
ishould have been kept secret. He found one
to sympathize with him — his son Phil.
224 Grit.
" You don't mean to say/' exclaimed that
young man, " that Grit Morris was sent to
Boston in charge of thirty thousand dollars in
bonds?"
" Yes, I do. That is just what was done."
" It's a wonder he didn't steal them and
make himself scarce."
^' That is in substance what I said at the
meeting of the directors, my son."
" I wish they'd sent me," said Phil. " I
should have enjoyed the trip."
" It would certainly have been more ap-
propriate," said Mr. Courtney, " as you are
the son of one of the directors, and not the
least influential or prominent, I flatter my-
self."
"To take a common boatman I " said Phil
scornfully. " Why, Mr. Graves must be
crazy ! "
" He is certainly a very injudicious man,"
said his father.
" Do you believe Carver to be dishonest,
father? " .
" No, I don't, though Graves does, on some
evidence trumped up by the boy Grit. He
wants to supersede him, and it would not at
all surprise me if he should be in favor of ap-
pointing Grit."
Grit. 225
"How ridiculous! What is the pay?"
asked Phil.
" Six hundred dollars a year, I believe/'
said Courtney.
" Can't you get it for me? " asked Phil
eagerly.
" I don't think it would be suitable to ap-
point a boy/' returned Courtney. " That is my
objection to Grit."
" Surely I would be a better messenger than
a common boy like that."
" Of course, you come of a very different
family. Still, I prefer a man, and indeed I
am in favor of retaining Ephraim Carver."
Phil would really have liked the office of
bank messenger. He was tired of studying,
and would have found it very agreeable to
have an income of his own. He got consider-
able sums from his father, but not sufficient
for his needs, or, rather, his wishes. Besides,
like most boyKS of his age, he enjoyed traveling
about, and considered the office a light and
pleasant one.
" What a fQol Graves must be," he said to
himself, " to think of a common boatman for
such a place! He'd better stick to his boat,
it's all he's qualified for. I'd like to put a
spoke in his wheel."
He left the house, and a short distance up
226 Grit.
the street he met Ephraim Carver, who had
come back to town in obedience to Colonel
Johnson's suggestion, to learn what he could
about the mysterious package.
" I'll see what I can learn from him,"
thought Phil.
" Good morning, Mr. Carver,'' he said.
" Good morning, Philip."
" You've been to Boston lately, haven't
you?" •
" I wonder whether he has heard anything
about the matter from his father," thought
Carver.
" Yes," he answered.
" You didn't happen to meet Grit Morris
there, did you? " asked Phil.
" Grit Morris ! " exclaimed Carver, in genu-
ine surprise.
" Yes, didn't you know he had been to Bos-
ton?"
"No; what business had he in Boston?"
asked the messenger.
" None of his own," answered Phil signifi-
cantly.
" Did any one send him? "
" You had better ask Mr. Graves," said Phil,
telling more than he intended to.
" Why didn't Mr. Graves get me to attend
Grit. 227
to his business?" asked Carver, still In the
dark.
" I didn't say Graves had any business of his
own. He is president of the bank, you know.''
'^ But I attend to the bank business. I am
the messenger."
" Perhaps you don't attend to all of it," said
Phil, telling considerably more than he in-
tended when the conversation commenced.
" Tell me what you know, Phil, about this
matter. It is important for me to know," said
Carver coaxingly. " I know you don't like
Grit, neither do I. If he is trying to curry
favor with Mr. Graves, I want to know it, so
as to circumvent him."
Before Phil quite knew what he iva.^ saying,
he had revealed everything to Carver, adding
that Grit was after his place.
The bank messenger now understood why
the package entrusted to him was a dummy,
and who carried the real package. He lost no
time in sending information to Colonel John-
son, in Portland.
The gentleman was very much excited when
he learned in what way he had been circum-
vented.
" So it was a boy, was it? " he said sav-
agely. " That boy must be looked after. He
may find that he has made a mistake in med-
dlins: with affairs that don't concern him."
228 Grit.
CHAPTER XXXI.
NEW PLANS.
When Grit returned lie found his mother
naturally curious to know where he had b( on
and on what errand.
" I should like to tell jou everythin.<]!:,
mother," he said^ '^ but it may not be prudent
just yet.-'
" It's nothing wronp;, I hope, Grit? "
^ "You may be sure of that, mother; 1
wouldn't engage in anythin^j that I thought
wrong, I feel justified in telling you confi-
dentially that I was sent by Mr. Graves."
" What ! the president of the bank? "
a Yes."
" Then it's all right," said Mrs. Brandon,
with an air of relief.
" My time wasn't wasted, mother," said Grit
cheerfully, as he displayed a ten-dollar note,
new and crisp, which Mr. Graves had given
him, besides paying the expenses of his trip.
" I've only been gone two days, and ten dollars
will pa.y me very well. It's better than boat-
ing, at any rate."
" Yes, but it isn't a steady employment."
^^No; don't suppose I have any idea of
Grit. 229
giving up boating, because I have been paid
five dollars a day for my trip. It's a help,
though."
^' Did you see anything of Mr. Bran,don
while you were gone? " asked his mother ap-
prehensively.
" No, mother. I can't say I was disap-
pointed, either."
" When he went away he spoke mysteriously
of some good fortune that was coming to him.
He expected to earn a large sum of money, and
talked of going to Europe."
" He is welcome to do so," said Grit, smil-
ing. " I hope he will, and then we can resume
our old life. I tell you, mother, I feel more
sure than ever of getting along. I am certain 1
can earn considerably more next year than I
have ever done before," and the boy's cheeks
glowed and his eyes sparkled with cheerful
hope.
" I am sure you deserve to. Grit, for you've
always been a good son."
" I ought to be, for I've got a good mother,"
said the boy, with a glance of affection at his
mother.
"He pays me for all," thought Mrs. Bran-
don, as she watched with pride and a mother's
love the form of her boy as he walked down to
the river. " As long as he lives, I have reason
230 Crit.
to be grateful to God. Mr. Brandon is a heavy
cross to me, but I can bear it while I have
Grit.''
Mr. Brandon, however, did not show him-
self. He was at Portland, subject to the or-
ders of Colonel Johnson, who thought it not
prudent that he or Travers should return just
at present, lest, under the influence of liquor,
they might become talkative and betray more
than he desired.
It was at this point that he learned from
Ephraim Carver that Grit had been sent to
Boston in the place of the regular bank mes-
senger.
" It looks as if somebody suspected some-
thing,'' he reflected anxiously. ^' Is it possible
that any part of our plan has leaked out?
And if so, how? Then why should a boy like
that be selected for so responsible a duty?
He must have had some agency in the dis-
covery. Ha ! I have it ! He is the stepson of
this Brandon. I must question Brandon."
" Brandon," he said abruptly, summoning
that worthy to his presence, " you have a son
named Grit, have you not? "
" Yes — curse the brat ! " answered Brandon,
in a tone by no means paternal.
" What kind of a boy is he? "
" Impudent and undutiful/' said Brandon.
Grit. 231
" He doesn't treat me with any kind of re-
spect."
" I don't blame him for that," thought John-
son, surveying his instrument with a glance
that did not indicate the highest esteem.
" Did you tell him anything of our plans? "
he asked searchingly.
" Tell him ! He'^s the last person I'd tell ! "
returned Brandon, with emphasis.
'' He didn't overhear you and Travers speak-
ing of the matter, did he? "
" Certainly not. What makes you ask me
that, colonel? "
" Because it was he who carried the genu-
ine package of bonds to Boston — that's all."
^' Grit — carried— the bonds ! " Brandon
ejaculated, in amazement.
" Yes."
" How did you find out? "
" Carver found out. I have just had a de-
spatch from him."
'' Well, that beats me ! " muttered Brandon.
" I can't understand it at all."
^^ It looks a« if Carver were distrusted. I
shall find out presently. In the meanwhile, I
must see that boy of yours."
" I'll ofo and briuff him here," said Brandon.
" Don't trouble yourself. I can manage the
232 Grit.
matter better by myself. I sliall go to Boston
this afternoon.''
" Are Travers and I to go, too? "
" No ; you can stay here. I'll direct you to
a cheap boarding-house, where you can await
my orders. I may take Travers with me."
This arrangement did not suit Brandon
very well, though it might had he been en-
trusted with a liberal sum of money. BuL
Colonel Johnson, having lost the valuable
prize for which he had striven, was in no mood
to be generous. He agreed to be responsible
for Brandon's board, but only gave him two
dollars for outside expenses, thus enforcing a
degree of temperance which was very disagree-
able to Brandon.
CHAPTER XXXII.
GRIT RECEIVES A BUSINESS LETTER.
Grit returned to his old business, but I am
obliged to confess that he was not as well con-
tented with it as he had been a week previous.
The incidents of the past four days had broad-
ened his views, and given him thoughts of a
career which would suit him better. He
earned a dollar and a quarter during the day,
and this made a very good average. Multiply
it by six, and it stood for an income of seven
Grit. 233
dollars and a half per week. This, to be sure,
was not a large sum, but it was quite sufficient
to maintain the little household in a degree of
comfort which left nothini>' to be desired.
" It's all very well noAV/' thought Grit,
" but it won't lead to anything. I'm so old
now " — he was not quite sixteen — '^ that I
ought to be getting hold of some business that
I can follow when I am a man. I don't mean
to be a boatman when I am twenty-five years
old."
There was something in this, no doubt.
Still Grit need not have felt in such a hurry.
He was young enough to wait. Waiting, how-
ever, is a very bad thing for boys of his age.
I only want to show how his mind was af-
fected, in order that the reader may under-
stand how it happened that he fell unsus-
piciously into a trap which Colonel Johnson
prepared for him.
After supper — it was two days later — Grit
prepared to go to the village. He had a little
errand of his own, and besides, his mother
wanted a few articles at the grocery-store.
Our hero, unlike some boys that I know, was
always ready to do any errands for his mother,
so that she was spared the trouble of exacting
unwillinG: service.
Grit had done all his business, when he
234 Grit.
chanced to meet his friend Jesse Burns, who,
as I have already said, was the son of the post-
master.
" Hov\' are you, Jesse? " said Grit.
"All right. Grit. Have you got your let-
ter?'^
" My letter ! '' returned Grit, in surprise.
" Yes ; there's a letter for you in the post-
office."
" I wonder who it can be from? ''
" Perhaps it's from your affectionate step-
father,'' suggested Jesse, smiling.
" I hope not. I don't want to see or hear
from him."
" Well, you can easily solve the problem.
You have only to take the letter out."
" That's good advice, Jesse. I'll follow it."
Grit called for his letter, and noticed, with
some surprise, that it was addressed to him,
not under his real name, but under that fa-
miliar name by which we know him.
" Grit Morris," said Jesse, scanning the en-
velope. ''Who can it be from?"
The letter was postmarked Boston, and was
addressed in a bold, business hand.
Grit opened the envelope, read it through
hastily, and with a look of evident pleasure.
" What's it all about, Grit? " asked Jesse.
" Read it for yourself, Jesse," said the
Grit. 235
young boatman, handing the letter to his
friend.
This was the letter :
" Dear Sir : I need a young person on
whom I can rely to travel for me at the West.
I don't know you personally, but you have
been recommended to me as likely to suit my
purpose. I am willing to pay twelve dollars
per week and traveling expenses. If this will
suit your views, come to Boston at once, and
call upon me at my private residence. No. ,
Essex Street.
^' Yours truly,
^' Solomon Weaver.''
" What are you going to do about it. Grit? "
asked Jesse, when he had finished reading the
letter.
" I shall go to Boston to-morrow morning,"
answered Grit promptly.
CHAPTER XXXIII.
GRIT LEAVES PINE POINT.
" It does seem to be a good offer," said
Jesse thoughtfully.
" I should think it was — twelve dollars a
week and traveling expenses," said Grit en-
thusiastically.
230 Grit.
" I wonder how this Mr. Weaver came to
hear of you? "
" I can't think. That's what puzzles me,"
said Grit.
" He says that you have been recommended
to him, I see."
" Yes. At any rate, I am very much obliged
to the one who recommended me."
" What will your mother say? "
" She won't want to part with me; but when
I tell her how good the offer is, she will get
reconciled to it."
When Grit went home and read the letter to
his mother, it was a shock to the good woman.
" How can I part from you. Grit? " she said,
with a troubled look.
" It won't be for long, mother," said Grit
hopefully. '' I shall soon be able to send for
you, and we can settle down somewhere near
Boston. I've got tired of this place, haven't
vou?"
" No, Grit. I think Pine Point is very pleas-
ant, as long as I can keep 3^ou with me. When
you are gone, of course, it will seem very dif-
ferent. I don't see how I am going to stand
it."
^^ It won't be for long, mother; and you'll
know I am doing well."
Grit. 237
^^ You can make a living with your boat,
Grit."
'^ Yes, mother; but it isn't going to lead to
anything. It's' all very well now, but half a
dozen years from now I ought to be estab-
lished in some good business."
" Can't you put off going for a year, Grit? "
^' A year hence there may be no such chance
as thi.s, mother."
'' That is true."
" You'll give your consent, then, mother? "
" If you really think it is best, Grit — that is,
if you've set your heart on it."
" I have, mother," said Grit earnestly. " I
was getting tired of boating before this letter
came, but I kept at it because there didn't
seem to be anything else. Now it would seem
worse than ever, and I'm afraid I should be
very discontented."
" I wish you would call on your friend Mr.
Jackson, at the hotel, and see what he thinks
of it," said Mrs. Brandon. ^' He is an experi-
enced man of business, and his judgment will
be better than ours."
" I will do as you say, mother. I am sure he
will recommend me to go."
Grit went to the hotel, arriving there about
eight o'clock, and inquired for Mr. Jackson,
He Avas told that that gentleman had stai'ted
538 Grit.
in the morning for Augusta, and would not re-
turn for a day or two. The young boatman
w^as not, on the whole, sorry to hear this, for
it was possible that the broker might not think
favorably of the plan proposed, and he felt
unwilling, even in that case, to give it up. He
returned, and acquainted his mother with the
result of his visit.
" Can't you wait till Mr. Jackson returns? ''
asked his mother.
" No, mother ; I should run the risk of losing
the chance.''
The evening was spent in getting ready to
go. Grit left in his mother's hands all the
money he had, except the ten dollars he had
last received, and gave an order for the sixty
dollars in the hands of Mr. Lawrence, the
lawyer, so that even if this Western journey
w^ere prolonged for three months, his mother
would have enough to provide for her wants.
" Now, mother, I can leave home without
any anxiety," he said.
" You wall write me often. Grit? " said Mrs.
Brandon anxiously.
" Oh, yes, mother ; there is no danger I shall
forget that."
^' Your letters will be all I s'hall have to
think of, you know, Grit."
Grit. 239
" I won't forget it, mother."
Grit kissed liis mother good-by, and bent his
steps toward the railway station.
On the way he met Ephraim Carver.
" Where are you going, Grit? " asked the
bank messenger.
" I am going to Boston.'^
" It seems to me you have a good deal of
business in Boston."
" I hope to have."
" You ain't going to stay, are you? "
" I expect to stay. I've got an offer from a
party there."
"Of what sort?"
" That letter will tell you."
Ephraim Carver looked over the letter, and
he smiled to himself, for he recognized the
handwriting of Colonel Johnson, though the
letter was signed by another name.
" You're walking into the lion's den, young
man," he thought ; but he only said : " It
seems to be a good offer. Why, you will be
paid as much as I get. How old are you? "
" Almost sixteen."
" Boys get on more rapidly now than they
did when I was of your age. Why, I'm more'n
twenty years older than you are, and I haven't
2;'ot any higher than twelve dollars a week
yet."
„ . l.«.v
Grit.
Mr. Carver laughed in wbat seemed to be an
entirely uncalled-for manner.
" I don't believe you'll keep your place
long," thought the young boatman; but he,
too, was not disposed to tell all he knew. So
the tvv'o parted, each possessed of a secret in
regard to the other.
Mr. Carver, however, was destined to re-
ceive the first disagreeable surprise. After
parting from Grit he met Mr. Graves in the
street.
^^ Good morning, Mr. Graves," he said, in his
usual deferential manner, for he was a
worldly-wise man, though he had committed
one fatal mistake.
" Good morning, Mr. Carver,'' said the presi-
dent of the bank gravely.
" Shall you have any errand for me this
week? "
" I have something to say to you, Mr. Car-
ver," said Mr. Graves, " and I may as well take
the present opportunity to do so. We have
concluded to dispense with your services, and
you are at liberty to look elsewhere for em-
ployment."
" You are going to dispense with my seir-
ices ! " repeated Carver, in dismay.
" Such is the determination of the directors,
Mr. Carver."
Grit. 241
" But, sir, that is very hard on me. How
am I to get along? "
" I hope you may find something else to do.
We shall pay you a month's salary in advance,
to give you an opportunity of looking about.''
'' But, Mr. Graves, why am I treated so
harshly? Can't you intercede for me? I am
a poor man."
" I feel for your situation, Mr. Carver, but
I am compelled to say that I do not feel dis-
posed to intercede for you."
" Haven't I always served the bank faith-
fully?"
^' I advise you to ask yourself that question,
Mr. Carver," said the president significantly.
" You can answer it to your own conscience
better than I or any one else can do for you."
^' What does he mean?" thought Carver,
startled.
Then it occurred to the messenger that noth-
ing had been discovered, but that Mr. Graves,
who had recently shown such partiality to
Grit, wished to create a vacancy for him.
" Are you going to put Grit Morris in my
place? " he asked angrily.
" What makes you think so? " asked Mr.
Graves keenly.
'' I knew you were partial to him," an-
242 Grit.
swered Carver, wlio reflected that it would not
do to give the source of his information.
" I will at any rate answer your question,
Mr. Carver. There is no intention of putting
Grit in your place. We have every confidence
in his fidelity and capacity, but consider him
too young for the position.''
" I was only going to say that Grit has an-
other chance in Boston, so that there will be
no need to provide for him.''
" Grit has a chance in Boston ! " said Mr.
Graves, in surprise.
" Yes ; he has just started for the city.''
" What sort of a chance is it? "
" He has received an offer to travel at the
West, with a salary of twelve dollars a week
and expenses."
" That is strange."
" It is true. He showed me the letter."
" From whom did it come? "
" I don't remember."
Carver did remember, but for obvious rea-
sons did not think it best to acquaint Mr.
Graves.
" That is remarkable," thought Mr. Graves,
as he walked home. " Grit is a smart boy, but
such offers are not often made by strangers
to a boy of fifteen. I must speak to Clark
about it."
Grit. 243
He found Mr. Clark at his house. He was
the quiet man who had been employed by the
bank as a detective, and who had come to re-
jjort to the president.
There was a look of intelligence as he lis-
tened to the news about Grit.
" I tell you what I think of it/' he said.
" The rascals have found out the part which
Grit took in circumventing them, and this let-
ter is part of a plot. They mean the boy mis-
chief."
^' I hope not/' said Mr. Graves anxiously.
" I am attached to Grit, and I wouldn't have
harm come to him for a good deal."
" Leave the matter in my hands. I will take
the next train for Boston, and follow this clue.
It may enable me to get hold of this Johnson,
who is a dangerous rascal, because he has
brains."
" Do so, and I will see you paid, if necessary,
out of my own pocket."
CHAPTER XXXIV.
GRIT REACHES BOSTON.
Full of hope and joyful anticipation, Grit
left home and pursued his journey to Boston.
He had occasion to stop a couple of honrs at
Portland, and improved it by strolling down
244 Grit.
to the pier of the little steamers that make
periodical trips to the islands in the harbor.
Just outside a low saloon he unexxDectedly
ran across his stepfather.
''How are you, Grit?'' said Brandon af-
fably.
There was a flush on Brandon's face, and an
unsteadiness of gait which indicated that he
had succeeded in evading what is known as
the Maine law. To Grit it was not a welcome
apparition. Still, he felt it due to himself to
be ordinarily polite.
" I am well," he answered briefly.
'' And how's your mother? " asked Brandon.
" Quite well, thank you," Grit answered, as
formally as if the question had been asked by
a stranger.
" Does she miss me much? " asked his step-
father, with a smile.
'' She has not mentioned it," responded our
hero coldlj^
" I am sorry that circumstances compel me
to be absent from her for a time," continued
Brandon.
" Oh, don't disturb yourself," said Grit.
^' She is quite used to being alone. I think
she mentioned that you talked of going to
Europe."
Grit. 245
Brandon frowned, and his bitter disap-
pointment was thus recalled to his mind.
^' I don't know whether I shall or not," he
answered. '^ It depends upon whether my —
speculation turns out well. Where are you
going?''
Grit hesitated as to whether he should an-
swer correctly. He was not anxious to have
Brandon looking him up iu Boston, but it oc-
curred to him that he should be traveling at
the West, and, therefore, he answered :
" I have heard of a chance in Boston, and
am going to see about it."
" All right. Grit ! " said Brandon. " You
have my consent."
It occurred to Grit that he did not stand in
need of his stepfather's approval, but he did
not say so.
^' Yes, Grit, I send you forth with a father's
blessing," said Brandon paternally. " By the
way, have you a quarter about you? "
Grit thought that a quarter was rather a
high price to pay for Brandon's blessing, but
he was in good spirits, and this made him
good-natured. Accordingly, he drew a quar-
ter from his pocket'and handed it to his step-
father.
'^ Thank you, Grit," said Brandon briskly,
for he had felt uncertain as to the success of
246 Grit.
his application. " I like to see you respectful
and dutiful. I will drink your good health,
and success to your plans.''
" You had better drink it in cold water, Mr.
Brandon."
" That's all right," said Brandon. " Good-
by ! "
He disappeared in the direction of the near-
est saloon, and Grit returned to the depot to
take the train for Boston.
" I don't know that I ought to have given
him any money," thought Grit, ^' but I was so
glad to get rid of him that I couldn't refuse."
He reached Boston without further adven-
ture, arriving at the Boston and Maine depot
in Haymarket Square about four o'clock.
^' I wonder whether it is too late to call on
Mr. Weaver to-night," thought Grit.
He decided that it was not. Even if it were
too late for an interview, he thought it would
be wise to let his prospective employer under-
stand that he had met his appointment punctu-
ally.
" Carriage, sir? " asked a hackman.
Grit answered in the negative, feeling that
to one in his circumstances it would be fool-
ish extravagance to spend money for a car-
riage. But this was succeeded by the thought
that time was valuable, and as he did not
Grit. 247
know where Essex Street was, it might con-
sume so much to find out the place indicated
in the letter that he might miss the oppor-
tunity of seeing Mr. Weaver.
" How far is Essex Street from here? '' he
asked.
" Three or four miles," promptly answered
the hackman.
" Is there any street-car line that goes
there?''
" Oh, bless you, no."
Neither of these answers was correct, but
Grit did not know this.
" How much will you charge to take me to
Ko. Essex Street?"
" Seein' it's you, I'll take you for a dollar
and a quarter."
Grit was about to accept this offer, when a
quiet-looking man beside him said :
" The regular fare is fifty cents."
" Is it any of your business? " demanded the
hackman angrily. " Do you want to take the
bread out of a poor man's mouth? "
"Yes, if the poor man undertakes to cheat
a boy! " answered the quiet man keenly.
" It's ridiculous expectin' to pay fifty cents
for a ride of three or four miles," grumbled the
hackman.
" The distance isn'jt over a mile and a quar-
248 Crit.
ter, and you are not allowed to ask over fifty
cents. My boy, I advise you to call another
hack."
'^ Jump in," said the hackman, fearful of
losing his fare.
" I think I will get in, too, as I am going
to that part of the city,'' said the small man,
in whom my readers will probably recognize
the detective already referred to.
" That'll be extra."
" Of course," said the detective. " I under-
stand that, and I understand how much ex-
tra," said the stranger significantly.
As the man and boy rattled through the
streets, they fell into a conversation, and Grit,
feeling* that he was with a friend, told his
plan.
" Humph ! " said the detective. " May I see
this letter? "
" Certainly, sir."
" Do you know who recommended you to
Mr. Weaver? " asked Grit's new friend.
" No, sir."
" And can't guess? "
" No, sir."
" Doesn't it strike you as a little singular
that such an offer should come from a stran=
ger?"
" Yes, sir ; that did occur to me. Don't you
Grit. 249
think it genuine? '■ asked Grit anxiously.
" I don't know. I could tell better if I
should see this Mr. Weaver/'
" Won't you go in with me? "
"No; it might seem odd, and the proposal
may be genuine. I'll tell you what to do, my
boy. That is, if you feel confidence in me."
" I do, and shall be glad of your advice."
" Come to the Parker House after your in-
terview, and inquire for Benjamin Baker."
" I will, sir, andthank you."
When the hack drew up in front of No.
Essex Street, the stranger got out with Grit.
" I am calling close by," he said, " and won't
ride any farther. Here is the fare for both."
'^ But, sir," said Grit, " it is not right that
you should pay my fare for me."
" It is all right," said Mr. Baker. " I have
more money than you, probably, my young
friend. Besides, meeting with you has saved
me some trouble."
This speech puzzled Grit, but he did not
feel like asking any explanation.
He glanced with some interest at the house
where he was to meet Mr. Weaver. It was a
three-story brick house, with a swell front,
such as used to be very popular in Boston
thirty or forty years since. It was very quiet
in appearance, and there was nothing to dis-
tinguish it from its neiL>libors on eitlier side.
250 ' Grit.
" Good afternoon, Mr. Baker/^ said Grit, as
he ascended the steps to ring the bell.
" Good afternoon. Kemember to call upon
me at the Parker House.''
" Thank yon, sir.''
Benjamin Baker turned down a side street,
and Grit rang the bell.
It was opened by a tall, gaunt woman, with
a cast in her eye.
"What's wanted?" she asked abruptly.
" I called to see Mr. Weaver — Mr. Solomon
Weaver," said Grit.
" Oh, yes," said the woman, with a curious
smile. " Come in."
The hall which Grit entered was dark and
shabby in its general appearance. Our hero
followed his guide to a rear room, the door of
which was thrown open, revealing a small
apartment, with a shabby collection of furni-
ture. There was no carpet on the floor, but
one or two rugs relieved the large expanse of
floor.
" Take a seat, and I'll call Mr. Weaver,"
said the woman.
Somehow Grit's courage was dampened by
the unpromising look of the house and its in-
terior.
He had pictured to himself Mr. Weaver as a
Grit. 251
pleasant, prosperous-looking man, who lived
in good style, and was liberally disposed.
He sat down in an armchair in the center
of the room.
He had but five minutes to wait.
Then the door opened, and to Grit's amaze-
ment the man w^hom he had known as Colonel
Johnson entered the room, and coolly locked
the door after him.
CHAPTER XXXV.
CROSS-EXAMINED.
Grit^s face showed the astonishment he felt
at the unexpected appearance of a man whom
he knew to be the prime instigator of the at-
tempt to rob the bank at Chester.
Colonel Johnson smiled grimly as he saw
the effect produced by his presence.
" You didn't expect to see me? " he said.
" No, sir," answered Grit.
" I flatter myself you had done me the honor
to call upon me," said Johnson, seating him-
self at a little distance from our hero.
" I came to see Mr. Solomon Weaver, from
whom I received a letter," explained Grit.
'- If this is your house I may have made a
mistake in the number."
252 Grit.
"' Not at all," ausAvered Johnson. *' Mr.
Weaver is a friend of mine."
" Does he live here? "
" Oh, yes," said Johnson, smiling.
" He wrote me that he wished to send me
on a Western trip."
'' That's all right."
" Then the letter was genuine," said Grit,
hoping that things might turn out right after
all.
Could it be possible, he thought, that
Colonel Johnson was the friend who had
recommended him? It did not seem at all
probable, but in his bewilderment he did not
know what to think.
" Can I see Mr. Weaver? " asked Grit, de-
sirous of putting an end to his uncertainty.
" Presently," answered Colonel Johnson.
" He is busy just at present, but he deputed
me to speak with you."
This was all very surprising, but would
probably soon be explained.
'' I shall be glad to answer any questions,"
said Grit.
" I suppose you can present good recom-
mendations, as the position is a responsible
one," said Johnson, with a half smile.
" Yes, sir."
" Whom, for instance? "
Grit. 253
" Mr. Graves, president of the Chester
Bank," said Grit.
Knowing what he did of Colonel Johnson's
attempt upon the bank, it was perhaps a
rather odd choice to make, but the young boat-
man thought it might help him to discover
whether Johnson knew anything of his re-
cent employment by the bank.
" I have heard of Mr. Graves," said John-
son. ^' Has he ever employed you? "
" Yes, sir."
"In what capacity?" demanded Johnson
searchingly.
'' He sent me to this city with a package."
" What did the package contain? "
" I think it contained bonds."
" Haven't they a regular bank messenger? "
" Yes, sir."
" What's his name? "
" Ephraim Carver."
" Why was he not employed? Why should
you be sent in his place? "
"I think you had better ask Mr. Graves,"
said Grit Independently.
"Why? Don't you know?"
" Even if I did I should consider that I
had no right to tell."
" You are a very conscientious and honor*
able young man," said Johnson sneeringly.
254 Grit.
" Thank you, sir,-' returned Grit, choosing
not to show that he understood the sneer.
^^ Where is your steiDfather? " inquired
Johnson, changing the subject abruptly.^'
" In Portland.''
"How do you know?"
" I met him in the street while on my way
through the city."
"Did you speak with him?"
" Yes, sir."
"What did he say?" asked Johnson sus-
piciously.
" He wished to borrow twenty-five cents,"
answ^ered Grit, with a smile.
"Did you lend it to him?"
"Yes."
" Very dutiful, on my word ! "
" I have no feeling of that sort for Mr.
Brandon," said Grit frankly. " I thought it
the easiest way to get rid of him."
Johnson changed the subject again.
" Is Ephraim Carver likely to lose his situa-
tion as bank messenger? " he asked.
" I think you had better ask Mr. Graves/'
said Grit, on his guard.
Johnson frowned, for he did not like Grit's
independence.
" It is reported that you are intriguing for
his position," h^ continued.
Grit. 255
" That is not true.''
^^ Do 3^ou think there is any likelihood of
your being appointed in his place?"
" No, sir ; I never dreamed of it."
" Yet there is a possibility of it. Don't
suppose that I am particularly interested in
this Carver. So far as I am concerned, I
should not object to jQur succeeding him."
"What does all this mean?" thought Grit.
" If you should do so, I might have a pro-
posal to make to you that would be to your
advantage."
Knowing what he did. Grit very well under-
stood what w^as meant. Johnson, no doubt,
wished to hire him to betray the confidence
reposed in him by the bank, and deliver up
any valuable package entrusted to him for
a money consideration. Like any right-
minded and honorable boy, Grit felt that the
very hint of such a thing was an insult to
him, and his face flushed with indignation.
For the moment he forgot his prudence.
" I don't think there is the least chance of
my getting such a position," he said ; " but
even if I did, it w^ould not do you any good to
make me a proposal."
" How do you know what sort of a proposal
T should make?" demanded Johnson keenly.
256 Grit.
" I don- 1 know/' answered Grit, emphasiz-
ing the last word.
" It appears to fne, young man, that you
are a little ahead of time/' said Johnson.
" You shouldn't crow too soon."
" I think I will bid you good evening/' said
Grit, rising.
"Why so soon? You haven't seen Mr.
Weaver."
" On the whole, I don't think I should wish
to engage with him."
Our hero felt that if Mr. Weaver w^ere a
friend of the man before him, it would be
safest to have nothing to do with him. On
the principle that a man is known by the
company he keeps, the friend of Colonel John-
son could hardly be a desirable person to
serve.
" You seem to be in a hurry, especially as
you have not seen my friend Weaver."
" You will be kind enough to explain to
him that I have changed my plans," said Grit.
" Resume your seat for five minutes," said
Johnson, " and I will call Weaver. You had
better see him for yourself."
" Very well, sir."
He reflected that merely seeing Mr. Weaver
^i^ould not commit him to anything.
Colonel Johnson rose to his feet, and placed
Grit. 257
Ills foot firmly on a particular spot in the
floor.
To Grit's dismay, the floor seemed to sink
beneath liim^ and chair and all were lowered
a dozen feet into a subterranean cavity, too
quickly for him to help himself.
He realized that the chair so conveniently
placed in the center of the aj)artment rested
on a trap-door.
CHAPTER XXXVl:
THE BOY DANIEL.
Though Grit was not hurt by his sudden
descent into the dark cavity under the room
in which he had been seated, he w^as, never-
theless, somewhat startled. Indeed, it was
enough to startle a person much older. For
the first time it dawned upon him that he was
the victim of a conspiracy, and Mr. Weaver
was either an imaginary person, or his offer
was not genuine. It was clear, also, from the
tenor of Johnson's questions that he fully un-
derstood, or at least suspected, that his plan
had been known in advance to the bank
officials.
The young boatman understood how to
manage a boat, but in the present case he
found that he was out of his element. The
^58 Grit.
tricks, traps, and devices of a great city he
knew very little about. He had, indeed, read
about trap-doors and subterranean chambers
in certain sensational stories which had come
into his possession, but he looked upon them
as mere figments of the imagination, and did
not believe they really existed. Now, here was
he himself made an unexpected victim by a
conspiracy of the same class familiar to him
in novels.
Naturally, the first thing to do w^as to take
a survey of his new quarters, and obtain some
idea of his position. At first everything
seemed involved in thick darkness, but as his
eye became accustomed to it, he could see that
he w^as in a cellar of about the same size as
the room above, though there was a door lead-
ing into another. He felt his w^ay to it, and
tried to open it, but found that it was fast-
ened, probably by a bolt on the other side.
There was no other door.
" I am like a rat in a trap," thought Grit.
" What are they going to do with me, I
w^onder? "
While it w^as unpleasant enough to be where
he was, he did not allow himself to despond
or give w^ay to unmanly fears. There w^as no
reason, he thought, to apprehend serious peril
or physical violence. Colonel Johnson prob-
Grit, 259
ably intended to frighten him, with a view of
securing his compliance with the demands of
the conspirators.
'' He will find he has made a mistake/'
thought Grit. '^ I am not a baby, and don't
mean to act like one."
He heard a noise, and, looking round, dis-
covered the armchair in which he had de-
scended being drawn up toward the trap-door.
The door was opened by some agency, the
chair disappeared, and again he was in dark-
ness.
^^ They don't mean to keep me here in lux-
ury," thought Grit. " If I sit down anywhere,
it will have to be on the floor."
It was late in the afternoon, as we know,
and it seemecl likeh^ that our hero would have
to remain in the subterranean chamber all
night. As there was no bed, he would have
to lie down on the ground. Grit kneeled
down, and ascertained that the floor was
cemented, and not a damp earthen flooring
as he had feared. He congratulated himself,
for he was bound to make the best of the situa-
tion.
There was another source of discomfort,
however. It was already past Grit's ordinary
supper hour, and, except a very slight lunch,
consisting of a sandwich bought in the cars,
26o Grit.
our hero had had nothing to eat since break-
fast, and an early breakfast at that. Now,
Grit was not one of those delicate boj^s wlio
are satisfied with a few mouthfnls, but he had
what is called a ^' healthy appetite/' such as
belongs to most boys who have good stomachs
and spend considerable time in the open air.
He began to feel an aching void in the region
of his stomach, and thought, with a sigh, of
the plain but hearty supper he should have
had at home.
" I hope Colonel Johnson isn't going to
starve me," he thought. ^^ That is carrying
the joke too far. It seems to me I never felt
so hungry in all my life before.''
Half an hour passed, and poor Grit's re-
flections became decidedly gloomy as his stom-
ach became more and more troublesome.
However, he Y\'a.s" perfectly helpless, and must
wait till the man, or men, who had him in
their clutches, saw^ fit to provide for him.
Under these circumstances it may well be
imagined that his heart leaped for joy when
he heard the bolt of the only door, already
referred to, slowly withdrawn with a rasp-
ing sound, as if it did not slide easily in its
socket.
He turned his eyes eagerly toward the door.
Jt was opened, ^nd a tall, overgrown youth
Grit. 261
entered with a small basket in his hand, which
he set down on the floor while he carefully
closed the door.
" Hello, there ! Where are you ? " he asked,
for his eyes were not used to the darkness.
" Here I am/' answered Grit. ^^ I hope
you've brought me some supper."
" Eight you are ! " said the youth. " Oh,
now^ I see you."
The speaker was tall and overgrown, as I
have said. He was also painfully thin, and
his clothes were two or three sizes too small
for him, so that his long, bony arms protruded
from his coat-sleeYe?> and his legs appeared
to have outgrown liis pants. His face was
long, and his cheekt were hollows
"He reminds me of Smike, in ^Nicholas
Nickleby,' " thought Grit.
" Take your sniiper, young, one, and eat it
quick," said the youth, for he was not more
than eighteen. ^
Grit needed no second invitation. He
quickly explored the contents of the basket.
The supper consisted of cold meat and slices
of bread and butter, with a mug of tea. To
Grit everything tasted delicious, and he did
not leave a crumb.
"]My! haven't you got an appetite?" said
the youth.
262 Grit.
" I haven't had anything to eat since morn-
ing;/' said Grit apologetically — '' that is, only
a sandwich."
" Say, what are you here for? " asked the
youth curiously.
" I don't know," answered Grit.
"Honor bright? "
" Yes, honor bright. Do you live here? "
" Yes," answered the youth soberly.
" Is this man — Colonel Johnson — any rela-
tion of yours? "
" No."
"Where are your folks?"
" Haven't got any. Never had any as I
know of."
" Have you always lived here? "
" Always lived with him," answered the boy,
jerking his thumb in an upward direction.
" Sometimes here, sometimes in New York."
" Do you like to be with — him? "
" No."
" Why don't you run away? "
" Run away I " repeated the other, looking
around him nervously. " He'd get me back,
and half kill me."
" There's some m^^stery about this boy,"
thought Grit. " Do you think he will keep
me here long? " he asked, in some anxiety.
" Can't say — maybe."
Grit. 263
"What's your name?"
" Daniel^'
"What's your other name?''
" Haven't got any."
" Daniel," said Grit, a thought striking
him. " Do you ever go out — about the city, I
mean? "
" Oh, yes ; I go to the post-office and other
places."
" Will you carry a message for me to the
Parker House? "
" I darsn't," said Daniel, trembling.
" No one will know it," pleaded Grit. " Be-
sides, I'll give you^five dollars," he added,
after a pause.
"Have you got so much?" asked Daniel
eagerly.
" Yes."
" Show it to me."
Grit did so.
" Yes, I'll do it," said the youth, after a
pause; "but I must be careful so he won't
know."
" All right. When can you leave the
house? "
" In the morning."
" That will suit me very well. Now, shall
I see you again to-morrow morning? "
" Yes, I shall bring you your breakfast."
264 Grit.
" Very well ; I will write a note, and will
describe the gentleman you are to hand it to."
"You'll be sure to give me the money?''
" Yes, I will give it to you before you go,
if you will promise to do my errand faith-
fully.'^
" Fll promise. I never had five dollars,"
continued Daniel. '' There's many things I
can buy for five dollars."
" So you can," answered Grit, who began to
perceive that this overgrown youth was rather
deficient mentally.
" You mustn't tell anybody that you are
going to carry a message for me," said Grit,
thinking the caution might be necessary.
" Oh, no, I darsn't," said Daniel quickly,
and Grit was satisfied.
Our hero felt much more comfortable after
he was left alone, partly in consequence of the
plain supper he had eaten, partly because he
thought he saw his way out of the trap into
which he had been inveigled.
'^ To-morrow I hope to be free," he said to
himself, as he lay down on the floor and sought
the refreshment of sleep.
Fortunately for him, he was feeling pretty
well fatigued, and though it was but eight
li'clock, he soon lost consciousness of all that
Grit. 265
was disagreeable in Ms situation under the
benignant iniiuence of sleep.
When Grit awoke, he had no idea what
time it was, for there was no xsnj for light to
enter the dark chamber.
" I hope it is almost breakfast-time/'
thought our hero, for he already felt the stir-
rings of appetite, and besides, all his hope
centered in Daniel, whom he was then to see.
After awhile he heard the welcome sound of
the bolt drawn back. Then a sudden fear as-
sailed him. It might be some one else, not
Daniel, who would bring his breakfast. If
so, all his hopes would be dashed to the
ground, and he could fix no limit to his cap-
tivity. But his fears were dissipated when
he saw the long, lank youth, with the same
])asket which he had brought the night be-
fore.
" Good morning, Daniel," said Grit joy-
fully. '^ I am glad to see you."
" You're hungry, I reckon," said the youth
practically.
"Yes; but I wanted to see you, so as to
give you my message. Are you going out this
morning? "
"Yes; Pm goin' to market."
" Can you go to tlie Parker House? You
know where it is, don't you?"
266 Grit.
i( -xr.
Yes; it is on School Street.'^
Grit was glad that Daniel knew, for he
could not have told him.
Grit had written a note in pencil on a sheet
of paper which he fortunately had in his
pocket. This he handed to Daniel, with full
instructions as to the outward appearance of
Mr. Benjamin Baker, to whom it was to be
handed.
" Now give me the money,'' said Daniel.
^' Here it is. Mind, Daniel, I expect yon to
serve me faithfully."
"All right!" said, the lank youth, as he
disappeared through the door, once more leav-
ingf Grit alone.
CHAPTEE XXXVII.
DANIEL CALLS AT THE PARKER HOUSE.
It was half-past nine o'clock in the fore-
noon, and Mr. Benjamin Baker, detective, sat
smoking a cigar in the famous hotel on School
Street, known as " Parker's."
" I hope nothing has happened to the boy,"
he said to himself, uneasily, as he drew out
his watch. " It is time he was here. Have
I done rightly in leaving him in the clutches
of a company of unprincipled men? Yet I
Grit. 267
don't know what else I could do. If I had
accompanied him to the door, my appearance
w^ould have awakened suspicion. If through
his means I can get authentic information as
to the interior of this house, which I strongly
suspect to be the headquarters of the gang, I
shall have done a good thing. Yet perhaps
I did wrong in not giving the boy a word of
warning."
Mr. Baker took the cigar from his mouth
and strolled into the opposite room, where
several of the hotel guests were either reading
the morning papers or writing letters. He
glanced quickly about him, but saw no one
that resembled Grit.
"Not here yet?" he said to himself.
" perhaps he can't find the hotel. But he looks
too smart to have any difficulty about that.
Ha! whom have we here?"
This question was elicited by a singular
figure upon the sidewalk. It was a tall, over-
grown boy, whose well-worn suit appeared to
have been first put on when he was several
years younger, and several inches shorter.
The boy was standing still, with mouth and
eyes wide open, starinjT in a bewildered way
at the entrance of the hotel, as if he had some
business therein, but did not know how to
go about it.
268 Grit.
" That's an odd-looking boy/' lie thought,
" Looks like one of Dickens' characters."
Finally the boy, in an uncertain, puzzled
way, ascended the steps into the main vesti-
bule, and again began to stare helplessly in
different directions.
One of the employees of the hotel went up
to him.
^' What do you want? " he demanded, rather
roughly.
" Be you Mr. Baker? " asked the boy.
" No ; I am not Mr. Baker."
" Where is Mr. Baker? "
" I don't know anything about Mr. Baker,"
answered the attendant impatiently.
" The boy told me I would find him here,"
said Daniel, for of course my reader recog-
nizes him.
" Then the boy was playing a trick on you,
most likely."
By this time Mr. Baker thought it advisable
to make himself known.
'' I am Mr. Benjamin Baker," he said, ad-
vancing. " Do you want to see me? "
Daniel looked very much relieved.
" I've got a note for you," he said.
" Give it to me."
Daniel did so, and was about to go out.
Grit. 269
^^ Wait a nainute, my young friend, there
may be an answer/' said the detective.
Mr. Baker read rapidly the foHowing note:
'^ I am in trouble. I think the letter I re-
ceived was only meant to entrap me. I have
not seen Mr. Weaver, bLt I have had an inter-
view with Colonel Johnson, who planned the
robbery of the bank at Chester. He seems to
know that I had something to do with defeat-
ing his plans, and has sounded me as to
whether I will help him in case I act again
as bank messenger. On my refusing, he
touched a spring, and let me down through
a trap-door in the floor of the rear room to a
cellar beneath, where I am kept in darkness.
The boy who gives you this brings me my
meals. He doesn't seem very bright, but I
have agreed to pay him well if he will hand
you this, and I hope he will succeed. I don't
know what Colonel Johnson proposes to do
v/ith me, but I hope you will be able to help
me. Grit."
Benjamin Baker nodded to himself while
he was reading this note.
" This confirms my suspicions,'' he said to
himself. ^^ If I am lucky I shall succeed in
trapping the trappers. Hark you, my boy,
ndien are vou goina: back?"
270 Grit.
"As soon as I have been to the market."
" Very well ; what did the boy agree to give
you for bringing this note?''
" Five dollars," answered Daniel, his dull
face lighting up, for he knew the power of
money.
" Would you like five dollars more? "
"Wouldn't I?" was the eager response.
" Then don't say a word to anybody about
bringing this note."
" No, I won't. He'd strap me if I did."
" Shall you see the boy? "
" Yes, at twelve o'clock, when I carry his
dinner."
" When you see him, tell him you've seen
me, and it's all right. Do you understand?"
Daniel nodded.
" I may call up there some time this morn-
ing. If I do I want you to open the door
and let me in."
Daniel nodded again.
" That will do. You can go."
Mr. Baker left the hotel with a preoccupied
air.
Grit 271
CHAPTER XXXVIII,
GRIT MAKES A DISCOVERY.
Grit, left to himself, was subjected to the
hardest trial, that of waiting for deliverance^
and not knowing w^hether the expected help
would come.
^' At any rate I have done the best I could,"
he said to himself. '^ Daniel is the best mes-
senger I could obtain. He doesn't seem to be
more than half-witted, but he ought to be in-
telligent enough to find Mr. Baker and deliver
my note."
The subterranean apartment, with its utter
destitution of furniture, furnished absolutely
no resources against ennui. Grit was fond
of reading, and in spite of his anxiety might
in an interesting paper or book have forgotten
his captivity, but there was nothing to read,
and even if there had been, it was too dark
to avail himself of it.
" I suppose I sha'n't see Daniel till noon,"
he reflected. " Till then I am left in sus-
pense."
He sat down in a corner and began to
think over his position and future prospects.
He was not wholly cast down, for he refused
2/2 Grit.
10 believe that lie was in any real peril. In
fact, tliougli a captive, he had never felt more
hopeful, or more self-reliant thali now. But
he was an active boy, and accustomed to exer-
cise, and he grew tired of sitting down.
" I will walk a little," he decided, and pro-
ceeded to pace up and down his limited apart-
ment.
Then it occurred to him to ascertain the
dimensions of the room, by pacing.
As he did so, he ran his hand along the side
wall. A most remarkable thing occurred. A
door flew open, which had appeared like the
rest of the wall, and a narrow passageway
was revealed, leading Grit could not tell
where.
^' I must have touched some spring," he
thought. " This house is a regular trap. I
wonder where this passageway leads? "
Grit stooped down, for the passage was but
about four feet in height, and tried to peer
through the darkness. But he could £-ee noth-
ing.
"Shall I explore it?" he thought.
He hesitated a moment, not knowing
whether it would be prudent, but finally curi-
osity overruled prudence, and he decided to
do so.
Stooping over, he felt Ins way for possibly
Grit 273
fifty feet, wlien lie came to a solid \yall.
Here seemed to be the end of the passage.
He began to feel slowlv with his hand, when
another small door, only about twelve inches
square, flew open, and he looked through it
into another subterranean apartment. It did
not appear to be occupied, but on a small
wooden table was a candle, and by the light
of the candle Grit could see a variety of
articles, including several trunks, one open,
revealing its contents to be plate.
^^ What does it mean?'' thought Grit.
Then the thought came to him, for, though
he was a country bo}^, his wits had been
sharpened by his recent experiences. '' It
must be a storehouse of stolen goods.''
This supposition seemed in harmony with
the character of the man who had lured him
here, and now held him captive.
" If I were only outside," thought Grit, " I
would tell Mr. Baker of this. The police
ought to know it."
Just then he heard his name called, and,
turning suddenly, distinguished by the faint
light which the candle threw into the passage
the stern and menacing countenance of
Colonel Johnson.
" Come out here, bo^^ ! " he called, in an
angry tone. ^^ I have an account to settle
with you."
274 Grit.
CHAPTER XXXIX.
AN UNPLEASANT INTERVIEW.
There was nothing to do but to obey.
Judging by his own interpretation of the dis-
covery our hero was not surprised that his
captor should be incensed. He retraced his
steps, and found himself once more in the
subterranean chamber facing an angry man.
" yrhat took you in there?" demanded Col-=
onel Johnson.
'' Curiosity, I suppose," answered Grit com-
posedly. He felt that he was in a scrape, but
he was not a boy to show fear or confusion.
" How did you happen to discover the en-
trance?"
" It was quite accidental. I was pacing the
floor to see how wide the room was, when my
hand touched the spring."
" Why did you want to know the width of
the room? " asked Johnson suspiciously.
" I didn't care much to know, but the time
hung heavily on my hands, and that was one
way of filling it up."
Colonel Johnson eyed the boy attentively.
He was at a loss to know whether Grit really
suspected the nature and meaning of his dis-
Grit. 275
coverj, or not. If not, he didn't wish to ex-
cite suspicion in the boy's mind. He decided
to insinuate an explanation,
" I suppose you were surprised to find the
passageway/' he remarked.
'" Yes, sir."
" As you have always, lived in the country,
that is natural. Such arrangements are com-
mon enough in the citjJ^
" I wonder whether trap-doors are com-
mon," thought Grit, but he did not give ex-
pression to his thought.
^' The room into which you looked is under
the house of my brother-in-law, and the pas-
sage affords an easy mode of entrance."
^^ I should think it would be easier going
into the street," thought Grit.
" Still I am annoyed at your meddlesome
curiosity, and shall take measures to prevent
your gratifying it again. I had a great mind
when I first saw you to shut you up in the
passage. I fancy you wouldn't enjoy that."
'^ I certainly shouldn't," said Grit, smiling.
" I will have some consideration for you,
and put a stop to your wanderings in another
way."
As he spoke he drew from his pocket a
thick, stout cord, and directing Grit to hold
his hands together, proceeded to tie his wrists.
276 Grit.
This our hero naturallj^ regarded as distaste
ful.
^^ You need not do this," he said. " I will
promise not to go into the passage.''
^^ Humph ! Will you promise not to at-
tempt to escape? "
" No, sir, I can't promise that.''
" Ha I jO'U mean, then, to attempt to es-
cape? "
'' Of course ! " answered Grit. " I should be
a fool to stay here if any chance offered of
getting away."
'' You are candid, young man," returned
Johnson. ^' There is no earthly chance of
your escaping. Still, I may as well make sure.
Put out your feet."
" You are not going to tie my feet, too, are
you? " asked Grit, in some dismay.
^' To be sure I am. I can't trust you after
what you have done this morning."
It Y\^as of no use to resist, for Colonel John-
son was a powerful man, and Grit, though
strong, only a boy of sixteen.
^' This doesn't look much like escaping,"
thought Grit. ^^ I hope he won't search my
pockets and discover my knife. If I can get
hold of that, I may be able to release myself."
Colonel Johnson had just completed tying
the last knot when the door, which had been
' Grit. 277
left unbolted, was seen to open, and the half-
witted boy, Daniel, entered hastily.
^' How now, idiot ! " said Johnson harshly.
"What brings you here?"
" There's a gentleman up-stairs wants to see
you, master," said Daniel, with the scared
look with which he always regarded his
tyrant.
" A gentleman ! " repeated Johnson hastily.
"Who let him in?"
" I did, sir."
" You did I " thundered Johnson. " How
often have I told you to let in nobody? Do
you want me to choke you ? "
" I — forgot," faltered the boy. " Besides,
he said he wanted to see you particular."
" All the more reason why I don't want
to see him. W^hat does he look like?"
. " He's a small man, sir."
"Humph! Where did you leave him?"
" Room above, sir."
" I'll go up and see him. If it's somebody
I don't want to see. 111 choke you."
" Yes, sir," said Daniel humbly.
As Johnson went out, Daniel lingered a mo-
ment, and, in a hoarse whisper, said to Grit:
" It's him."
"Who is it?" asked Grit puzzled.
" It's the man you sent me to."
278 Grit.
«
" Good ! You're a trump, Daniel/' said
Grit joyfully.
A minute after a confused noise was heard
in the room above. Daniel turned pale.
" Tell him where I am, Daniel," said Grit,
as the boy timidl}^ left the room.
CHAPTER XL.
COLONEL JOHNSON COMES TO GRIEF.
We must now follow Johnson up-stairs.
In the room above, sitting down tranquilly
in an arm-chair, but not in that in the center
of the room, was a small, wiry man of un-
pretending exterior.
"What is your business here, sir?" de-
manded Johnson rudeh^
"Are you the owner of this house?" asked
Benjamin Baker coolly.
" Yes. That does not explain your presence
here, however."
"I am in search of a quiet home, and it
struck me that this vras about the sort of a
house I would like," answered Baker.
" Then, sir, you have wasted your time in
coming here. This house is not for sale."
" Indeed I Perhaps I may offer you enough
to make it worth vour while to sell it to me."
Grit. 279
" Quite impossible, sir. This is my house,
and I don't want to sell.''
" I am sorry to hear it. Perhaps you would
be kind enough to show me over the house- to
let me see its arrangements, as I may wish
to cop3^ them if I build."
^^ It strikes me, sir, you are very curious,
whoever you are," said Johnson angrily.
" You intrude yourself into the house of a
quiet citizen, and wish to pry into his private
arrangements."
^^ I really beg your pardon, Mr. I
really forget your name."
'' Because you never heard it. The name
is of no consequence."
*^ I was about to mj, if you have anything
to conceal, I won't press my request."
" Who told you I had anything to conceal? "
said Johnson suspiciously.
" I inferred it from your evident reluctance
to let me go over your house."
" Then, sir, I have only to say that you are
mistaken. Because I resent your imperti-
nent intrusion, you jump to the conclusion
that I have something to conceal."
'^ Just so. There might, for example, be
a trap-door in this very room "
Colonel Johnson sprang to his feet and ad-
vanced toward his uuAvelcome guest.
28o Grit,
" Tell me what you mean/' he said savagely.
*' I am not the mau to be bearded in my own
house. You will yet repent jout temerity in
thrusting yourself here."
Benjamin Baker also rose to his feet, and,
putting a whistle to his month, whistled
shrilly.
Instantly two stalwart policemen sprang
into the apartment from the hall outside.
^' Seize that man I ^' said the detective.
^^ What does this mean?'' asked Johnson,
struggling, but ineffectually.
" It means, Colonel Johnson, alias Robert
Kidd, that you are arrested on a charge of
being implicated in the attempt to steal a
parcel of bonds belonging to the National
Bank of Chester, Maine.''
^' I don't know anything about it," said
Johnson sullenly. " You've got the wrong
man."
" Possibly. If so, you'll be released, espe-
cially as there are other charges against you.
Guard him, men, while I search the house."
" Here, boy, show me where my young
friend is concealed," said Baker to Daniel,
who was timidly peeping in at the door.
A minute later and Baker cut the cords
that confined the hands and feet of Grit. ^
" Now," said he quickly, ^' have you dis-
Grit. 281
covered any thing tliat will be of service to
9
me?''
Grit opened for him the dark passage. The
detective walked to the end, and saw the room
into which it opened.
" Do jou know, Grit," he said, on his re
turn, ^' yon have done a splendid day's w^ork?
With your help I have discovered the head-
quarters of a bold and desperate gang of
thieves, which has long baffled the efforts of
the Boston police. There is a standing re-
ward of two thousand dollars for their dis-
covery, to which you will be entitled."
"No, sir; it belongs to you," said Grit
modestly. " I could have done nothing with-
out you."
'' Nor I without your information. But
we can discuss this hereafter."
Johnson ground his teeth when Grit was
brought upstairs, free, to see him handcuffed
and helpless.
" I believe you are at the bottom of this,
you young rascal ! " he said.
^' You are right," said the detective. " We
have received very valuable information from
this boy, whom you supposed to be in your
power."
'' T wish I had killed him ! " said Johnson
furiously.
282 Grit.
" Fortuiiately, you were saved tliat crime,
and need expect nothing worse than a long
term of imprisonment. Officers, take him
along/'-
CHAPTER XLI.
CONCLUSION.
The Boston and Portland papers of the
next morning contained full accounts of the
discovery of the rendezvous of a gang of
robbers whose operations had been extensive
in and near Boston, together with the arrest
of their chief.
In the account full credit was given to our
young hero, Grit, for his agency in the affair,
and it was announced that the prize offered
would be divided between Grit and the famous
detective, Benjamin Baker.
It may readily be supposed that this ac-
count created great excitement in Chester.
Most of the villagers v/ere heartily pleased
by the good fortune and sudden renowm of th^
young boatman; but there was at least on^
household to which the news brought no
satisfaction. This was the home of Phil
Courtney.
" What a fuss the papers make about that
boy!" exclaimed Phil, in disgust. "I sup
Grit. 283
pose he will put on no end of airs when he
gets home/'
^ Very likelj^," said Mr. Courtney. '^ He
seems to have had good luck, that's all."
" It's pretty good luck to get a thousand
dollars," said Phil enviously. " Papa, will
you do me a favor? "
"What is it?"
" Can't you put a thousand dollars in the
bank for me, so that the boatman can't crow
over me? "
" Mone}^ is very scarce with me just now,
Philip," said his father. '^ It will do just as
well to tell him you have a thousand dollars
in my hands."
" I would rather have it in a bank," said
Philip.
" Then you'll have to wait till it is con-
venient for me," said his father shortly.
It was true that money was scarce with
Mr. Courtney. I have already stated that he
had been speculating in Wall Street heavily,
and with by no means unvarying success. In
fact, the same evening he received a letter
from his brother, stating that the market was
so heavily against him that he must at once
forward five thousand dollars to protect his
margin, or the stocks carried on his account
must be sold.
284 Grit.
As Mr. Courtney was unable to meet this
demand, the stocks were sold, involving a loss
of ten thousand dollars.
This, in addition to previous losses, so far
crippled Mr. Courtney that he was compelled
materially to change his way of living, and
Phil had to come dow^n in the social scale,
much to his mortification.
But the star of the young boatman was in
the ascendant.
On his return to Pine Point he found Mr.
Jackson, the New York broker, about to leave
the hotel for a return to the city. He con-
gratulated Grit on his success as an amateur
detective, and then asked:
" What are your plans. Grit? Probably
you won't care to remain a boatman?"
" No, sir ; I have decided to give up that
business, at any rate."
" Have you anything in view? "
" I thought I might get a situation of some
kind in Boston. The prize-money will keep
us going till I can earn a good salary.''
^' Will your mother move from Pine
Point?"
'' Yes, sir; she would be lonely here without
me."
^^ T have an amendment to offer to your
plans, Grit."
Grit. 28s
"What i« that, sir?''
" Come to New York instead of Boston."
" I have no objection, sir, it* there is any
opening there for me.''
'^ There is, and in my office. Do you think
you would like to enter mj office? "
" I should like it very much," said Grit
eagerly.
" Then I will engage you at a salary of
tv>"elve dollars per week — for the first year.''
"Twelve dollars!" exclaimed Grit, over-
whelmed. " I had no idea a green hand could
get such pay."
" Nor can they," answered Mr. Jackson,
smiling; " but you remember that there is an
unsettled account between us. I have not for-
gotten that you saved the life of my boy."
" I don't want any reward for that, sir."
" I appreciate your delicacy, but I shall
feel better satisfied to recognize it in my own
way. I have another proposal to make to
you. It is this: Place in my hands as much
of your thousand dollars as you can spare,
and I will invest it carefully for your ad-
vantage in stock operations, and hope ma-
terially to increase it.''
" I shall be delighted if you will do so, Mr.
Jackson, and think myself very fortunate that
vou take this trouble for me."
286 Grit.
" Now, how soon can you go to New York? "
" When you think best, sir? ''
*^ I advise you to go on with me, and select
a home for your mother. Then you can come
back for her, and settle yourself down to
work.'^
A year later, in a jDleasant cottage on Staten
Island, Grit and his mother sat in a neatly
furnished sitting-room. Our young hero was
taller, as befitted his increased age, but there
was the same pleasant, frank expression
which had characterized him as a boy.
" Mother," said he, '' I have some news for
you."
"What is it, Grit?"
" Mr. Jackson has raised my pay to twenty
dollars a week."
" That is excellent news, Grit."
" He has besides rendered an account of
the eight hundred dollars he took from me
to operate with. How much do you think it
amounts to now? "
" Perhaps a thousand."
" Between four and five thousand ! " an-
swered Grit, in exultation.
" How can that be possible? " exclaimed
Mrs. Morris, in astonishment.
" He used it as a margin to buy stocks
Grit 287
which advanced greatly in a short time. This
being repeated once or twice, has made me
almost rich."
" I can hardly believe it, Grit. It is too
good to be true.''
" But it is true, mother. Now we can
change our mode of living."
" Wait till you are w^orth ten thousand dol-
lars, Grit — then I will consent. But, I, too,
have some news for you."
"What is it?"
" I had a letter from Chester to-day. Our
old neighbor, Mr. Courtney, has lost every-
thing— or almost everything — and has been
compelled to accept the post of bank mes-
senger, at a salary of fifty dollars per month."
" That is indeed a change," said Grit.
"What will Phil do?"
" He has gone into a store in Chester, on a
salary of three dollars a week."
" Poor fellow^ I " said Grit. " I pity him.
It must be hard for a boy with his high no-
tions to come down in the world so. I would
rather begin small and rise, than be reared in
affluence only to sink into poverty afterward."
It was quite true. The result of his rash
speculations was to reduce Mr. Courtney to
poverty, and make him for the balance of his
life a soured, discontented man.
288 Grit.
As for Phil, he is still young, and adversity
mav teach him a valuable lesson. Still, I
hardly think he will ever look with satisfac-
tion upon the growing success and prosperity
of the young boatman.
I must note another change. It will be ob-
served that I have referred to Grit's mother
as Mrs. Morris. Mr. Brandon was acciden-
tally drowned in Portland Harbor, having un-
dertaken, while under the influence of liquor,
to row to Peake's Island, some two miles dis-
tant. His wife and Grit were shocked b}^ his
sudden death, but they could hardly be ex-
pected to mourn for him. His widow resumed
the name of her former husband, and could
noAV lay aside all anxiety as to the quiet ten of
of her life being broken in upon by her ill-
chosen second husband.
It looks as if Grit's prosperity had come to
stay. I am privately informed that Mr. Jack-
son intends next year to make him junior part-
ner, and this will give him a high position in
business circles. I am sure my young read-
ers will feel that his prosperity has been well
earned, and will rejoice heartily in the bril-
liant success of the young boatman of Pine
Point.
THE END.
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