The Young Musician; Or, Fighting His Way

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  He would not even wait till the next day, but determined after it wasdark to visit the poor-house and reconnoiter. First, he informed hisparents what had befallen Phil. Their indignation was scarcely less thanhis.

  "Squire Pope is carrying matters with a high hand," said the farmer."According to my idea, he has done no less than kidnap Philip, withoutthe shadow of a legal right."

  "Can't he be prosecuted?" asked Frank eagerly.

  "I am not sure as to that," answered his father, "but I am confidentthat Philip will not be obliged to remain, unless he chooses, adependent upon the charity of the town."

  "It is outrageous!" said Mrs. Dunbar, who was quite as friendly toPhilip as her husband and son.

  "In my opinion," said Mr. Dunbar, "Squire Pope has done a very unwisething as regards his own interests. He desires to remain in office, andthe people will not be likely to reelect him if his policy is to makepaupers of those who wish to maintain themselves. Voters will be apt tothink that they are sufficiently taxed already for the support of thosewho are actually unable to maintain themselves."

  "If I were a voter," exclaimed Frank indignantly, "I wouldn't votefor Squire Pope, even for dog-catcher! The meanest part of it is theunderhanded way in which he has taken Phil. He must have known he wasacting illegally, or he would have come here in open day and requiredPhil to go with him."

  "I agree with you, Frank. Squire Pope may be assured that he has lostmy vote from henceforth. Hitherto I have voted for him annually forselectman, knowing that he wanted the office and considering him fairlyfaithful."

  "Father," said Frank, after a thoughtful pause, "do you think Philipwould be justified in escaping from the poorhouse?"

  "I do," answered Mr. Dunbar. "In this free country I hold that no oneought to be made an object of charity against his will."

  "Philip is strong enough and smart enough to earn his own living," saidFrank.

  "That is true. I will myself give him his board and clothes if he willstay with me and work on the farm."

  "I wish he would. He would be a splendid companion for me; but I thinkhe wants to leave Norton, and try his fortune in some larger place."

  "I can't blame him. If his father were living and he had a good home,I should not think it wise; but, as matters stand, it may not be a badplan for him."

  "Father," said Frank, after supper, "I am going out and I may not beback very early."

  "Are you going to see Philip?"

  "Yes; but I want to see him alone. If possible, I will see him withoutattracting the attention of Joe Tucker."

  "You won't get into any trouble, Frank?" said his mother anxiously.

  "No, mother; I don't know what trouble I can get into."

  "You may very likely fail to see Philip," suggested his father. "I hearthat Tucker and his boarders go to bed very early."

  "So much the better!" said Frank, in a tone of satisfaction. "The onlyone I want to see is Philip, and he isn't likely to go to sleep veryearly."

  Mr. Dunbar smiled to himself.

  "Frank has got some plan in his head," he thought. "I won't inquire whatit is, for he has good common sense, and won't do anything improper."

  About eight o'clock, Frank, after certain preparations, which willhereafter be referred to, set out for the poorhouse, which was about amile distant.

  CHAPTER XIV. PHILIP MAKES HIS ESCAPE.

  It grew darker and darker in Philip's chamber, but no one came to bringhim a light. It was assumed that he would go to bed before he requiredone.

  By seven o'clock the paupers had settled themselves for the night, andwhen eight o'clock struck, Mr. and Mrs. Tucker sought their beds. Itwas no particular trial for Joe Tucker to go to bed early, for he wasnaturally a lazy man, and fond of rest; while his wife, who worked agreat deal harder than he, after being on her feet from four o'clock inthe morning, found it a welcome relief to lie down and court friendlysleep. Zeke wasn't always ready to go to bed. In fact, he would muchrather have gone up to the village now and then, but if he had done sohe would have had to stay out all night. There was one thing his parentswere strict about, and that was retiring at eight o'clock.

  Philip, however, did not retire at that hour. It was earlier than hisusual hour for bed. Besides, he was in hopes his friend Frank would makehis appearance, and help him, though he didn't exactly understand how,to make his escape.

  At half-past eight it was dark. The stars were out, and the moon wasjust making its appearance. Philip had opened his window softly, and waslooking out, when all at once he saw a boyish figure approaching.

  Couldn't be Frank Dunbar.

  He hoped so, but in the indistinct light could not be quite certain.

  The boy, whoever it might be, approached cautiously, till he stoodwithin fifty feet of the house.

  Then Philip saw that it was indeed Frank, and his heart beat joyfully.It was something to see a friend, even though they were separated bywhat seemed to him to be an impassable gulf.

  About the same time, Frank recognized his friend, in the boyish figureat the window.

  "Is that you, Phil?" he asked, in a guarded voice, yet loud enough to beheard.

  "Yes, Frank; I have been expecting you. I knew you wouldn't desert me."

  "I should think not. I didn't come before, because I didn't want to beseen by any of Tucker's folks."

  "They are all abed now, and I hope asleep."

  "Can't you come downstairs, and steal away?"

  "No; my chamber door is locked on the outside."

  "That's what I thought."

  "Can't you help me in any way?"

  "I'll see. Suppose you had a rope--could you swing out of the window?"

  "Yes; I could fasten it to the bedstead, and fix that just against thewindow."

  "Then I think I can help you. Can you catch a ball?"

  "Yes; but what good will that do?"

  "You'll see. Make ready now, and don't miss it."

  He produced a ball of common size, and after taking aim, threw itlightly up toward Philip's window. The first time it didn't come withinreach. The second Philip caught it skilfully, and by the moonlight sawthat a stout piece of twine was attached to it. At the end of the twineFrank had connected it with a clothesline which he had borrowed fromhome.

  "Now pull away, Phil," urged Frank.

  Philip did, and soon had the stout line in his possession.

  "It will hold; it's new and strong," said Frank. "Father only bought itlast week. I didn't think, then, what use we should have for it."

  Philip, however, was not afraid. He was so anxious to escape that, evenif there had been any risk to run, he would readily have incurred it forthe sake of getting away from the poor-house, in which he was unwillingto spend a single night. He fastened one end of the rope firmly to hisbedstead, as he had proposed, then cautiously got upon the window-silland lowered himself, descending hand over hand till he reached theground.

  He breathed a sigh of relief as he detached himself from the rope andstood beside Frank Dunbar.

  Just then the boys heard a second-story window open, and saw Mr.Tucker's head projecting from it.

  CHAPTER XV. ESCAPE AND FLIGHT.

  Though the boys had made as little noise as possible, conversing in anundertone, they had been heard by Mrs. Tucker. Her husband, as was hiscustom, had gone to sleep; but Mrs. Tucker, who, during the day, haddiscovered the loss of ten cents from her bureau drawer in which shekept her savings, had been kept awake by mental trouble. Some of myreaders may think so small a loss scarcely worth keeping awake for, butMrs. Joe Tucker was a strictly economical and saving woman--some evencalled her penurious--and the loss of ten cents troubled her.

  She would have laid it to one of "them paupers," as she was wontcontemptuously to refer to them, except that she never allowed one ofthem to enter the sacred precincts of her chamber.

  A horrible thought entered her mind. Could it be Zeke, the boy whom shethought such a paragon, though no one else had been able to discoverhis virtues or at
tractions! She did not like to think of it, but it didoccur to her that Zeke, the previous day, had asked her for ten cents,though he would not own the purpose for which he wanted it. The boymight have been tempted to take the money. At any rate, she would go andsee.

  Zeke slept in a small room adjoining. When his mother entered, with acandle in her hand, he was lying asleep, with his mouth wide open, andone arm dropped over the side of the bed.

  Mrs. Tucker took a look at him, and saw that he was wrapped in slumberand unable to notice what she proposed to do. His clothes were throwndown carelessly on a chair near-by.

  Mrs. Tucker searched first in the pockets of his pants, and, though shediscovered a large variety of miscellaneous articles, "of no use to anyone except the owner," she didn't discover any traces of the missingdime. She began to hope that he had not taken it, after all, although,in that case, the loss would continue to be shrouded in obscurity. But,on continuing her search, she discovered in one of the pockets of hisvest a silver ten-cent piece.

  Mrs. Tucker's eyes flashed, partly with indignation at Zeke'sdishonesty, partly with joy at the recovery of the missing coin.

  "I've found you out, you bad boy!" she said, in a low voice, shaking herfist at the sleeping boy. "I wouldn't have believed that my Zeke wouldhave robbed his own mother. We must have a reckoning to-morrow."

  She was half-inclined to wake Zeke up and charge him with his crime,confronting him with the evidence of it which she had just discovered;but on second thoughts she decided that she might as well let him sleep,as the next day would do just as well.

  Poor Zeke! he was not guilty, after all, though whether his honesty wasstrict enough to resist a powerful temptation, I am not sure.

  The dime which Mrs. Tucker had discovered was the same one that Philiphad given to Zeke in return for his service in notifying Frank Dunbarof his captivity. In another pocket was the five-cent piece given him byFrank, but that had escaped his mother's attention.

  The reader will understand now how it happened that Mrs. Tucker waskept awake beyond her usual time. She was broad awake when Frank Dunbararrived, and she heard something through the partially open window ofthe conference between the two boys. She heard the voices that is tosay, but could not tell what was said.

  With her mind dwelling upon Zeke's supposed theft, however, she was moreeasily frightened than usual, and immediately jumped to the conclusionthat there were burglars outside, trying to get in.

  The absurdity of burglars attempting to rob the town poorhouse did notoccur to her in panic. She sat up in bed, and proceeded to nudge herhusband in no gentle fashion.

  "Mr. Tucker!" she exclaimed.

  Her husband responded by an inarticulate murmur, but did not wake.

  "Mr. Tucker!" she exclaimed, in a louder voice, giving him a still morevigorous shake.

  "Eh! What! What's the matter?" said Tucker, opening his eyes at last,and staring vacantly at his wife.

  "What's the matter!" retorted his wife impatiently. "The matter is thatthere's burglars outside!"

  "Let 'em stay outside!" said Joe Tucker, in a sleepy tone.

  "Did any one ever hear such a fool?" exclaimed Mrs. Tucker, exasperated."They're trying to get in. Do you hear that, Mr. Tucker?"

  "Trying to get in! Is the door locked?" asked Joe, a little alarmed.

  "You must get up and defend the house," continued Mrs. Tucker.

  Now, Mr. Tucker was not a brave man. He had no fancy for having ahand-to-hand conflict with burglars, who might be presumed to bedesperate men. It occurred to him that it would be decidedly better tostay where he was and ran no risk.

  "Never mind, Abigail," he said, soothingly. "The burglars can't do usany harm. They can't do any more than carry off a pauper or two, and Idon't, believe they'll do that."

  "I wouldn't mind that, Mr. Tucker; but I've left the spoonsdown-stairs!" answered his wife.

  "How many are there!"

  "Six. I want you to go down and get them and bring them up here, wherethey will be safe."

  "But suppose I should meet some of the burglars!" suggested Tucker,trembling.

  "Then you must defend yourself like a man!"

  "You might find me in the morning weltering in my gore!" said Joe, withan uneasy shudder.

  "Are we to have the spoons stolen, then!" demanded Mrs. Tucker sharply.

  "If you care so much for the spoons, Abigail, you'd better godown-stairs yourself and get 'em. I don't value them as much as mylife."

  "I don't know but I will, if you'll look out of the window and seewhether you can see any of the burglars outside," responded Mrs. Tucker."If they haven't got in yet, I'll take the risk."

  "Where did you hear 'em, Abigail?"

  "Eight outside. Open the window and look out, and you may see 'em."

  Mr. Tucker was not entirely willing to do this, but still he preferredit to going down-stairs after the spoons, and accordingly he advanced,and, lifting the window, put his head out, as described at the close ofthe last chapter.

  Philip and Frank were just ready to go when they heard the windowrising, and naturally looked up in some trepidation.

  "It's old Tucker!" said Frank, in a low voice.

  Philip looked up, and saw that his friend was right.

  Mr. Tucker had not yet discovered them, but the whisper caught his ear,and looking down he caught sight of the two boys.

  In his alarm, and the obscurity of the night, he did not make out thatthey were boys and not men, and was about to withdraw his head in alarm,when a mischievous impulse seized Frank Dunbar.

  "Give me the ball, Philip!" he said quickly.

  Philip complied with his request, not understanding his intention.

  Now, Frank belonged to a baseball club, and had a capital aim. He threwup the ball and struck Mr. Tucker fairly in the nose. The effect uponthe terrified Joe was startling.

  Full as his mind was of burglars, he fancied that it was something agreat deal more deadly that had struck him.

  "Oh, Abigail! I'm shot through the brain!" he moaned in anguish, as hepoked in his head and fell back upon the floor.

  "What do you mean, Joe?" asked his wife, in alarm, as she hastened toher prostrate husband, whose hand was pressed convulsively upon theinjured organ, which, naturally ached badly with the force of the blow.

  "I'm a dead man!" moaned Mr. Tucker; "and it's all your fault. You mademe go to the window."

  "I don't believe you're shot at all! I didn't hear any report," saidMrs. Tucker. "Let me see your face."

  Mr. Tucker withdrew his hand mournfully.

  "You've only been struck with a rock or something," said she, after acareful examination.

  "It's bleeding!" groaned Joe, seeing a dark stain on his night-dress.

  "Suppose it is--it won't kill you. I'll look out myself."

  But she saw nothing. Philip and Frank had immediately taken to flight,and vanished in the darkness.

  "They've run away!" announced Mrs. Tucker. "My spoons are safe."

  "But my nose isn't," groaned Mr. Tucker.

  "You won't die this time," said Mrs. Tucker, not very sympathetically."Soak your nose in the wash-basin, and you'll be all right in themorning."

  The two boys were destined to have another adventure that night.

  CHAPTER XVI. A NIGHT ADVENTURE.

  "I didn't mean to hit him," said Frank, as he and Philip hurried awayfrom the poorhouse, "I only intended to give him a fright."

  "I think you have. I wonder whether he recognized us!"

  "I don't believe it. He had hardly got his head out of the window beforeI let drive."

  "Then he won't imagine I have escaped."

  "What are your plans, Phil? Suppose they try to take you back to thepoorhouse?"

  "They won't get the chance. Before five o'clock to-morrow morning Ishall leave Norton."

  "Leave town?" exclaimed Frank, in surprise. "And so soon?"

  "Yes. There is nothing for me to do here."

  "Father would like to have y
ou stay and assist him on the farm. He saidso to me. He wouldn't be able to pay much, but I think we would have agood time together."

  Philip pressed his friend's hand warmly.

  "I know we should, Frank," he said, "but if I remained here, it wouldonly remind me of my poor father. I would rather go out into the worldand try my fortune."

  "Isn't it risky, Phil?" objected Frank doubtfully.

  "I suppose it is; but I am willing to work, and I don't expect much."

  "Suppose you fall sick?"

  "Then, if I can, I will come back to you and your good father andmother, and stay till I am well."

  "Promise me that, Phil?"

  "I promise."

  "I wish I could go with you, Phil," said Frank, with a boyish impulse.

  "No, it wouldn't be wise for you. You have a good home, and you will bebetter off there than among strangers."

  "It might be your home, too, Phil."

  "Thank you; but I shall be better away from Norton for a time."

  A minute later, Frank said suddenly:

  "There's Squire Pope coming. He will see you."

  "I don't care. He won't take me back."

  "Get behind the stone wall, and I will wait and interview him."