by Oliver Optic
CHAPTER XII.
SQUIRE FISHLEY MAKES IT RIGHT.
"Did you know how much money you gave me, Squire Fishley?" I asked of mydistinguished companion, as I drove over the bridge.
"No, I did not; and I don't wonder that you ask, Buck," he replied, verysolemnly.
"You gave me forty-six dollars, sir."
"Forty-six," he added, taking out his large pocket-book.
He did not seem to be at all astonished at the magnitude of the sum, andI wondered what he was going to do. Much as I dreaded the loss of themoney, I was satisfied that he had made a mistake, and I felt that itwould not be honest for me to keep it without informing him. Of course Iexpected to be commended for my honesty in refusing to take advantage ofa drunken man's mistake; but he did not say a word, only fumbled overthe thick pile of bank notes in his pocket-book, for the purpose, Ijudged, of ascertaining whether he had lost any or not. To myastonishment, however, he took two bills from the pile, and handed themto me.
"What's that for?" I asked, involuntarily taking the bills.
"I meant to give you more," said he.
"More!" I exclaimed.
"I didn't know what I was about very well last night," he added, with agroan which expressed the anguish he felt for his error. "I ought tohave given you a hundred."
"Why, no, sir! I don't ask anything," I replied, confounded by hiswords.
"You don't understand it as well as I do," said he, shaking his head,and bestowing a mournful look upon me.
"But I can't take a hundred dollars, sir."
"Yes, you can, and you must. I shall not feel right about it if youdon't. It ought to be a thousand; but I shall make it up to you sometime."
"Why, Squire Fishley, if you had given me a couple of dollars, I shouldhave thought you had treated me very handsomely," I protested.
"You saved my life."
"I don't know as I did."
"But you did more than that for me. I was intoxicated; I cannot deny it.I fell into the river in that state. If I had been found drowned, thecause of my death would have been rum!" he added, with a shudder. "Ihave always been classed with the moderate drinkers, though sometimes Idon't taste of liquor for a week. Rather to oblige my friends than togratify my own taste, I drank with them till I was in the state you sawme. I was drunk. What a scandal to my family, to my position, to mychurch! If it could have been said the Hon. Moses Fishley was drowned inconsequence of getting intoxicated, I should not have slept in peace inmy grave. You saved my life; and I am sure no one knew me, so that Ihope to save my reputation. It has been a terrible lesson to me, andwith God's forgiveness for the past, and his help for the future, I willnever drink another drop of wine or liquor."
"I am sorry it happened, sir; but I am willing to do all I can for youwithout any money," I interposed.
"My gratitude, if nothing else, compels me to give you what I havegiven; and I hope you never will mention the matter."
"Never, sir!"
"I know that I deserve the humiliation of an exposure," continued thesquire, in a very mournful tone; "but I feel that the facts would injurethe cause of truth and religion more than they would injure me. Mybrother used to think I was a hypocrite because I attended to theconcerns of the soul. I don't know that he has thought so since I wentinto the Senate. He used to laugh at me for going to the prayermeetings; and I don't know what he would say if he should learn that Igot drunk and fell into the river."
"He will never find it out from me, sir; but I don't want all thismoney."
"Keep it; but I trust you will not spend it foolishly, nor let mybrother know that you have it."
"I will do neither. Captain Fishley and I don't get along well enoughtogether for me to say anything to him."
"Why, what's the matter?"
I told my story; for I felt that if the senator could trust me, I couldtrust him. I did not say anything about my half-formed intention to runaway. The squire was very sorry there was any trouble; but, as it was afamily matter, he did not like to say much about it, though he promisedto do all he could for me.
"I think I won't go any farther, Buck," said he. "I suppose you willdespise me, for you know me better than any other person."
"I'm sure I don't despise you."
"I'm confident my misfortune--if it can be called by that name--is allfor the best. When I go home, I shall come out for temperance, and Ithink this journey will do me good."
I thought it must be very mortifying for him to talk to me in that way;but he was sincerely penitent, and I am sure he was a better Christianthan ever before. He was a truer man than his brother in every respect,and I should have had a high regard for him, even if he had not givenme a hundred dollars.
I had money enough now to pay my own and my sister's passage to NewOrleans in a steamboat; but I was so fascinated with the raft that Icould not think of abandoning it. I was going to build a house upon it;and my fancy pictured its interior, and the pleasure we might enjoy init, floating down the river. It was a very brilliant ideal which I hadmade up in connection with the new craft.
In due time I reached Riverport, and obtained the mail-bag. At thepost-office, I happened to meet the landlord of the hotel, who wanted toknow how Squire Fishley was. I told him he was quite well.
"They say there was a man drowned in the river last night," he added."I'm glad to hear from Squire Fishley."
"It wasn't the squire," I replied. "He went home with me."
"It was somebody else then; but nobody seems to know who it was."
I did not enlighten him. In the Riverport Standard there was an item inregard to the accident, which stated that "an elderly gentleman, underthe influence of liquor, had fallen from the gang-plank of the steamerinto the river," and that "a young man had attempted to save him; but,as neither of them had been heard from, it was supposed that both weredrowned. But it was possible they had been saved, and had continued ontheir journey in that or some other steamer." I learned that a greatdeal had been said about the affair in the town, and I never heard thatany satisfactory solution of the mystery was obtained. The squire wassafe, and that was all I cared for.
At a store where I was not known I purchased ten pounds of nails, andsuch other articles of hardware as would be needed in carrying on thework upon the raft. The method of supplying Sim with provisions was amore difficult problem; but, at a restaurant near the steamboat landing,I bought a boiled ham, which I thought would keep my hungry assistantalive for several days. I also purchased a keg of crackers, half acheese, a couple of loaves of soft bread, and a basket to carry them in.I was rich, and did not mind the expense.
When I arrived home, I took the basket and the hardware to the back sideof the barn; but before I went to bed I saw Sim, and told him where theywere. Before I made my appearance in the morning he had carried themaway to the swamp. Everything had worked successfully thus far. Sim wasin no danger of starving, and I was relieved of the necessity of feedinghim from the buttery of the house.
I gave Squire Fishley a copy of the Standard, and pointed out to him theparagraph in relation to the "elderly gentleman under the influence ofliquor." He turned pale and trembled as he read it; but I assured him hewas perfectly safe, and that no one but myself was in possession of hissecret.
After breakfast, when I had finished my regular "chores," I hastened tothe swamp to work on the raft. I cannot describe the satisfaction whichthis labor, and the thinking of it, afforded me. It was fully equal to atrip down the river in a steamboat. Day after day, and night afternight, in my trips to Riverport, and in my bed, I anticipated the voyagedown the stream, and the pleasure of keeping house in our mansion on theraft, with Flora and Sim.
After three days' hard work, we had the body of the raft completed. Wehad covered the long logs with short ones, and on the upper tier laid aflooring of slabs, which were more plentiful than boards, as they werethrown away by the saw-mills above. The platform was more than a footabove the surface of the water, and I was confident that it would
carryus high and dry.
It only remained to build the house--the most pleasing because it wasthe most difficult part of the job. This structure was to be eighteenfeet long and six feet wide, placed in the middle of the platform. I puttogether two frames of the requisite size, forming the sills and platesof the building, and boarded them up and down, leaving three windows oneach side, and a door at the rear end. I made the rafters of slabs, withthe round side down.
On the fifth day, so enthusiastically had we labored, I expected tocomplete the outside of the house, so that Sim could sleep in it. I wasputting on the last of the roof boards, which lapped over so as to shedthe rain, when an unfortunate circumstance occurred to delay the work.My bow-legged friend and fellow-laborer was the most willing boy in theworld. He was quite skilful in the use of the axe; but he was veryawkward in his movements, and did not always work to the best advantage.
Towards the last of the work, we had come short of boards, and I wasthinking of going to the saw-mills, seven miles up the stream, to buy afew to complete the work. But there was a heavy rain in the night, whichraised the creek, and brought down quite a number of them. I had swung aboom out so as to catch them. Sim had just hauled one of these, soakedwith water, out of the river. While he was raising the end to hand it upto me, on the roof, his feet slipped, and he went into the stream with a"chug," like a frog.
Sim could not swim, and he began to flop about in the wildest and mostunreasonable manner. I threw him a board, but he did not seem to havesense enough to grasp it. I saw that he would be drowned in a momentmore, unless he received more efficient help. I was fearfully alarmedfor his safety; and, though I could swim like a fish, I doubted myability to handle such a clumsy fellow in the water.
Kicking off my shoes, I dived after him from the roof of the house; forhe had gone down, and I was not sure that he would come up again. Icould not help thinking that this accident had ruined my enterprise.Though it seemed to be a long time to me, and doubtless a much longertime to him, he had not been in the water more than three seconds when Idived after him.
SIM GWYNN'S MISHAP.--Page 141.]
I did not find him under the water; but, when I rose to the surface, Isaw him a rod or more below me, floundering about like a crazyalligator.
