by Roy J. Snell
CHAPTER IV.
PURSUED.
It was a long while before slumber visited Jack's eyelids on this firstnight spent at the farm.
To have found such a pleasant resting place after his experience atFarmer Pratt's, and when the best he had expected was to be allowed toremain until morning, was almost bewildering; at the same time thefriendly manner in which the kindly faced old lady treated him made adeep impression on his heart.
During fully an hour he speculated as to how it would be possible forhim to reach New York with Louis, and, not being able to arrive at anysatisfactory conclusion, he decided that that matter at least couldsafely be left in Aunt Nancy's care.
Then, all anxiety as to the immediate future having been dissipated, hethought of various ways by which he could lighten the little woman'slabors.
He laid plans for making himself so useful about the farm that she wouldbe repaid for her care of Louis, and these ideas were in his mind whenhe crossed the border of dreamland, where, until nearly daybreak, hetried to milk diminutive cows, or struggled to carry enormous tin pails.
Despite his disagreeable dreams, the sleep was refreshing, and when thefirst glow of dawn appeared in the eastern sky he was aroused by thesound of Aunt Nancy's voice from the foot of the stairs.
Jack's first waking thought was a continuation of the last on the nightprevious, and, dressing hurriedly, he ran down to the kitchen to beginthe labor which he intended should make him a desirable member of thefamily.
To his great disappointment the fire had been built, Louis dressed, andthe morning's work well advanced when he entered the room.
"Why didn't you call me before?" he asked reproachfully. "I meant tohave done all this while you were asleep; but I laid awake so long lastnight that it didn't seem possible for my eyes to open."
"I am accustomed to doing these things for myself," Aunt Nancy repliedwith a kindly smile, "and don't mind it one bit, especially when thekindlings have been prepared. I got up a little earlier than usualbecause I was afraid there might be some trouble about dressing thebaby; but he's just as good a child as can be, and seems right wellcontented here."
"It would be funny if he wasn't," Jack replied as he took Louis in hisarms for the morning greeting.
There was a shade of sorrow in his heart because the child evinced nodesire to remain with him, but scrambled out of his arms at the firstopportunity to toddle toward Aunt Nancy, who ceased her work of brushingimaginary dirt from the floor in order to kiss the little fellow astenderly as a mother could have done.
"It seems as if he'd got all through with me," Jack said sorrowfully. "Ibelieve he likes you the best now."
"Don't be jealous, my boy. It's only natural the child should cling to awoman when he can; but that doesn't signify he has lost any affectionfor you. It is time old crumple-horn was milked, and we'll take Louiswith us so he won't get into mischief. I'm going to give you anotherlesson this morning."
Jack made a vain effort to repress the sigh which would persist incoming to his lips as the baby crowed with delight when the little womanlifted him in her arms, and taking the milking pail, he led the way outthrough the dewy grass to the barnyard, where the cow stood looking overthe rails as if wondering why Aunt Nancy was so late.
Jack insisted that he could milk without any further instructions, and,after gathering an armful of the sweet-scented clover, he set boldly towork while Aunt Nancy and Louis watched him from the other side of thefence.
This time his efforts were crowned with success, and although he did notfinish the task as quickly as the little woman could have done it, bythe aid of a few hints from her he had drawn the last drop of milk intothe pail before the cow began to show signs of impatience.
Then Aunt Nancy and Louis returned to the house while Jack drove themeek-eyed animal to the pasture, and when this was done he searched theshed for a rake.
He succeeded in finding one with not more than half the teeth missing,and began to scrape up the sticks and dried leaves from the lane, a workwhich was well calculated to yet further win the confidence of the neatlittle mistress of the farm.
When the morning meal was served, Jack had so far become accustomed toAunt Nancy's ways that he bowed his head without being prompted, whileshe asked a blessing.
After breakfast was concluded the hunchback proceeded to put intoexecution the plan formed on the night previous.
"If you'll tell me what to do I'll go to work as soon as the lane iscleaned, an' that won't take a long while. I s'pose there's plenty to bedone."
"Yes," Aunt Nancy replied with a sigh, "there's a great deal of workwhich a woman can't do; but I don't know as a boy like you would be ableto get along any better than I."
"There won't be any harm in tryin'," Jack said manfully. "Tell me whatit is you want."
"Well, the pasture fence is broken in several places, and I was thinkingof getting Daniel Chick to come an' fix it; but perhaps you might patchthe breaks up so's a cow couldn't get out."
"Of course I can. It ain't much of a job if you've got nails an' ahammer. I'll tackle it as soon as the lane is finished."
Aunt Nancy explained that the fence to which she referred bordered theroad a short distance above the house, and Jack was so impatient tobegin the labor that, contrary to his usual custom, he took a hurriedleave of Louis.
An hour was sufficient in which to finish the self-imposed task on thelane, and then, with a very shaky hammer and a handful of rusty nails,he set out to repair the fence, leaving Louis playing in the kitchenwith the gorgeous crockery rooster, while Aunt Nancy was busily engagedsetting the house to rights generally.
The scene of Jack's first attempt at fence building was fully an eighthof a mile away, and in a clump of alder-bushes which shut off all viewof the house.
It was by no means a simple task which he found before him.
The posts had so far decayed that an expert workman would haveconsidered it necessary to replace them with new timbers; but since thiswas beyond his skill, he set about mending it after his own fashion.
It must not be supposed that Jack loved to work better than does anyother boy; but he believed it was necessary for him to remain with AuntNancy until such time as he could find an opportunity of continuing thejourney in some more rapid manner than by walking, and the desire tomake himself useful about the farm was so great that labor ceased to bea hardship.
He had been engaged in this rather difficult task fully an hour, payinglittle or no attention to anything save the work in hand, when therattle of wheels on the hard road attracted his notice.
Up to this time no person had passed in either direction, and it wasfrom curiosity rather than any idea the approaching travellers might beconnected with his fortunes, that he peered out from among thealder-bushes.
Immediately he drew back in alarm.
He had seen, coming directly toward him in a lumbering old wagon andhardly more than a hundred yards away, Farmer Pratt and his son Tom.
"They're huntin' for me!" he said to himself as he crept farther amongthe bushes to conceal himself from view, and a secure hiding place hadhardly been gained when the travellers came to a full stop at the littlebrook which ran on the opposite side of the road, in order to give theirhorse some water.
As a matter of fact Farmer Pratt _was_ in search of the two who had lefthis house so unceremoniously; but now he had no intention of taking themto the poorhouse.
Quite by accident a copy of a newspaper containing an account of theexplosion on board the "Atlanta," and the information that Mrs.Littlefield would remain in Portland in the hope of gaining someinformation regarding her child, had come into his hands, and it did notrequire much study on his part to understand that in the greed topossess himself of the boat by ridding himself of the children, he hadlost the opportunity of earning a valuable reward.
There was a stormy time in the Pratt household when this fact becameknown, and even Master Tom came in for more than his full share of thescolding because the
children had been allowed to go away.
"It would have been as good as a hundred dollars in my pocket if I couldhave lugged them youngsters into town," the farmer repeated over andover again as he blamed first his wife and then his son for what wasreally his own fault. "I thought a boat worth twenty dollars would be amighty big haul for one mornin', but here was a show of gettin' fivetimes as much jest by holdin' them two over night, an' you had to let'em slip through your fingers."
Farmer Pratt dwelt upon this unpleasant fact until he finally convincedhimself that he would have acted the part of a good Samaritan had theopportunity not been denied him, and very early on this same morning hestarted out for the purpose of earning the reward by finding thecastaways.
Jack, crouching among the bushes where he could distinguish themovements of those whom he considered his enemies, heard the farmer say,while the half-fed horse was quenching his thirst,--
"I reckon we've got a day's work before us, all on account of you an'your mother, for that hunchback couldn't have walked as far with thebaby. Most likely he found some one who gave him a lift on the road. Thechances are he's in Biddeford by this time, other folks have heard thewhole story."
Tom made no reply, probably because he feared to say anything whichmight again call forth a flood of reproach, and his father added,--
"I reckon our best way will be to push right on to town instead ofhuntin' along the road as we've been doin'. Time is gettin' mighty shortif we want to catch him before people know what has happened."
The farmer was so impatient to arrive at the city that the horse wasurged on before his thirst was fully quenched, and as the noise of thewheels told that the briefly interrupted journey had been resumed, Jackcrept cautiously out from among the bushes to where he could watch themovements of the travellers until they should have passed Aunt Nancy'sfarm.
As may be supposed, he was thoroughly alarmed.
That which he heard convinced him beyond a doubt the farmer wassearching for him, and there was no question in his mind but that it wasfor the sole and only purpose of carrying him and Louis to the poorfarm.
"I s'pose Aunt Nancy would up an' tell the whole story if they shouldask her," he muttered, "an' then I'd have to come out an' go along with'em, 'cause I wouldn't let that man carry Louis off alone."
The color came back to his cheeks, however, and the throbbing of hisheart was lessened as he saw the wagon wheel past the lane withouteither of its occupants making any move toward calling at the house.
Most likely neither Aunt Nancy nor Louis were in the yard, and FarmerPratt was so eager to reach the town where he believed the children tobe, that, as he had intimated, there was no further stop to be madealong the road.
But Jack's mind was far from being relieved even after the clumsyvehicle had passed out of sight, for he knew the farmer would return,failing to gain any information of those he was so anxious to find, andhe might think it worth his while to call at Aunt Nancy's.
Jack had now lost all interest in his work, and seated himself near thefence trying to decide whether he would be warranted in leaving thetemporary home he had found, to take refuge in flight.
This he might have done on the impulse of the moment but for therestraining thought that it would be in the highest degree dangerous totravel in either direction on the road, and to make his way through thefields and woods was a matter of impossibility, since he had no idea ofthe proper course to be pursued.
"I don't s'pose Aunt Nancy'd lie even to save us from goin' to the poorfarm," he said aloud to himself; "but if she would, I'd hide out in thebushes with Louis till I was sure that man had got through huntin' afterus, 'cause he can't keep this thing up all summer."
This was by far the best plan Jack could devise for the baby's safety,and yet it seemed hardly possible it would be carried into executionbecause of the probable unwillingness of Aunt Nancy to so much asequivocate.
After thinking the matter over fully twenty minutes without arriving atany other conclusion which promised the slightest hope of escape fromhis pursuers, he decided to boldly ask the little woman if she wouldpromise, in case Mr. Pratt should call upon her, to say that she hadseen neither of her guests.
"She can't any more'n get mad at it, an' if she won't agree then I'lltake the risk of startin' off once more, but it's goin' to be prettytough on both of us."
There was yet considerable work to be done in the way of fence building;but now Jack had no idea of continuing the labor.
He was so agitated that the shaky hammer lay unheeded on the groundwhere it had fallen when he first saw the travellers, and the nails wereleft to gather a yet thicker coat of rust as he made his way up throughthe line of bushes to approach the house from the rear, not daring to goboldly around by the road.
