Paul Prescott's Charge

by Jr. Horatio Alger

  XII.

  ON THE BRINK OF DISCOVERY.

  "If you're in no great hurry to go to New York," said the pedler, "Ishould like to have you stay with me for a day or two. I live abouttwenty-five miles from here, straight ahead, so it will be on your way.I always manage to get home by Saturday night if it is any way possible.It doesn't seem comfortable to be away Sunday. As to-day is Friday, Ishall get there to-morrow. So you can lie over a day and rest yourself."

  Paul felt grateful for this unexpected invitation. It lifted quite aload from his mind, since, as the day declined, certain anxious thoughtsas to where he should find shelter, had obtruded themselves. Even now,the same trouble would be experienced on Monday night, but it is thecharacteristic of youth to pay little regard to anticipated difficultiesas long as the present is provided for.

  It must not be supposed that the pedler neglected his business onaccount of his companion. On the road he had been traveling the houseswere few and far between. He had, therefore, but few calls to make.Paul remarked, however, that when he did call he seldom failed to sellsomething.

  "Yes," said Mr. Stubbs, on being interrogated, "I make it a p'int tosell something, if it's no more than a tin dipper. I find some hardcases sometimes, and sometimes I have to give it up altogether. I can'tquite come up to a friend of mine, Daniel Watson, who used to be inthe same line of business. I never knew him to stop at a place withoutselling something. He had a good deal of judgment, Daniel had, and knewjust when to use 'soft sodder,' and when not to. On the road that hetraveled there lived a widow woman, who had the reputation of being asugly, cross-grained a critter as ever lived. People used to say thatit was enough to turn milk sour for her even to look at it. Well, it sohappened that Daniel had never called there. One night he was boastingthat he never called at a house without driving a bargain, when oneof the company asked him, with a laugh, if he had ever sold the widowanything.

  "Why, no," said Daniel, "I never called there; but I've no doubt Icould."

  "What'll you bet of it?"

  "I'm not a betting man," said Daniel, "but I feel so sure of it that Idon't mind risking five dollars."

  "Agreed."

  "The next morning Daniel drove leisurely up to the widow's door andknocked. She had a great aversion to pedlers, and declared they werecheats, every one of them. She was busy sweeping when Daniel knocked.She came to the door in a dreadful hurry, hoping it might be an oldwidower in the neighborhood that she was trying to catch. When she sawhow much she was mistaken she looked as black as a thundercloud.

  "Want any tin ware to-day, ma'am?" inquired Daniel, noways discomposed.

  "No, sir," snapped she.

  "Got all kinds,--warranted the best in the market. Couldn't I sell yousomething?"

  "Not a single thing," said she, preparing to shut the door; but Daniel,knowing all would then be lost, stepped in before she could shut itquite to, and began to name over some of the articles he had in hiswagon.

  "You may talk till doomsday," said the widow, as mad as could be, "andit won't do a particle of good. Now, you've got your answer, and you'dbetter leave the house before you are driven out."

  "Brooms, brushes, lamps----"

  "Here the widow, who had been trying to keep in her anger, couldn't holdout any longer. She seized the broom she had been sweeping with, andbrought it down with a tremendous whack upon Daniel's back. You canimagine how hard it was, when I tell you that the force of the blowsnapped the broom in the middle. You might have thought Daniel wouldresent it, but he didn't appear to notice it, though it must have hurthim awful. He picked up the pieces, and handing them, with a polite bow,to the widow, said, 'Now, ma'am, I'm sure you need a new broom. I've gotsome capital ones out in the cart.'"

  "The widow seemed kind of overpowered by his coolness. She hardly knewwhat to say or what to think. However, she had broken her old broom,that was certain, and must have a new one; so when Daniel ran out andbrought in a bundle of them, she picked out one and paid for it withoutsaying a word; only, when Daniel asked if he might have the pleasureof calling again, she looked a little queer, and told him that if heconsidered it a pleasure, she had no objection."

  "And did he call again?"

  "Yes, whenever he went that way. The widow was always very polite to himafter that, and, though she had a mortal dislike to pedlers in general,she was always ready to trade with him. Daniel used to say that hegained his bet and the widow's custom at ONE BLOW."

  They were now descending a little hill at the foot of which stood acountry tavern. Here Mr. Stubbs declared his intention of spending thenight. He drove into the barn, the large door of which stood invitinglyopen, and unharnessed his horse, taking especial care to rub him downand set before him an ample supply of provender.

  "I always take care of Goliah myself," said he. "He's a good friend tome, and it's no more than right that I should take good care of him.Now, we'll go into the house, and see what we can get for supper."

  He was surprised to see that Paul hung back, and seemed disinclined tofollow.

  "What's the matter?" asked Mr. Stubbs, in surprise. "Why don't youcome?"

  "Because," said Paul, looking embarrassed, "I've got no money."

  "Well, I have," said Mr. Stubbs, "and that will answer just as well, socome along, and don't be bashful. I'm about as hungry as a bear, and Iguess you are too."

  Before many minutes, Paul sat down to a more bountiful repast thanhe had partaken of for many a day. There were warm biscuits and freshbutter, such as might please the palate of an epicure, while at theother end of the table was a plate of cake, flanked on one side by anapple-pie, on the other by one of pumpkin, with its rich golden hue,such as is to be found in its perfection, only in New England. It willscarcely be doubted that our hungry travellers did full justice to thefare set before them.

  When they had finished, they went into the public room, where wereengaged some of the village worthies, intent on discussing the newsand the political questions of the day. It was a time of considerablepolitical excitement, and this naturally supplied the topic ofconversation. In this the pedler joined, for his frequent travel on thisroute had made him familiarly acquainted with many of those present.

  Paul sat in a corner, trying to feel interested in the conversation; butthe day had been a long one, and he had undergone an unusual amount offatigue. Gradually, his drowsiness increased. The many voices fell uponhis ears like a lullaby, and in a few minutes he was fast asleep.

  Early next morning they were up and on their way. It was the secondmorning since Paul's departure. Already a sense of freedom gave hisspirits unwonted elasticity, and encouraged him to hope for the best.Had his knowledge of the future been greater, his confidence might havebeen less. But would he have been any happier?

  So many miles separated him from his late home, that he supposed himselfquite safe from detection. A slight circumstance warned him that he muststill be watchful and cautious.

  As they were jogging easily along, they heard the noise of wheels at alittle distance. Paul looked up. To his great alarms he recognizedin the driver of the approaching vehicle, one of the selectmen ofWrenville.

  "What's the matter?" asked his companion, noticing his sudden look ofapprehension.

  Paul quickly communicated the ground of his alarm.

  "And you are afraid he will want to carry you back, are you?"

  "Yes."

  "Not a bit of it. We'll circumvent the old fellow, unless he's sharperthan I think he is. You've only got to do as I tell you."

  To this Paul quickly agreed.

  The selectman was already within a hundred rods. He had not yetapparently noticed the pedler's cart, so that this was in our hero'sfavor. Mr. Stubbs had already arranged his plan of operations.

  "This is what you are to do, Paul," said he, quickly. "Cock your hat onthe side of your head, considerably forward, so that he can't see muchof your face. Then here's a cigar to stick in your mouth. You can makebelieve that you are smoking. If you are the sort o
f boy I reckon youare, he'll never think it's you."

  Paul instantly adopted this suggestion.

  Slipping his hat to one side in the jaunty manner characteristic ofyoung America, he began to puff very gravely at a cigar the pedlerhanded him, frequently taking it from his mouth, as he had seen olderpersons do, to knock away the ashes. Nothwithstanding his alarm, hislove of fun made him enjoy this little stratagem, in which he bore hispart successfully.

  The selectman eyed him intently. Paul began to tremble from fear ofdiscovery, but his apprehensions were speedily dissipated by a remark ofthe new-comer, "My boy, you are forming a very bad habit."

  Paul did not dare to answer lest his voice should betray him. To hisrelief, the pedler spoke----

  "Just what I tell him, sir, but I suppose he thinks he must do as hisfather does."

  By this time the vehicles had passed each other, and the immediate perilwas over.

  "Now, Paul," said his companion, laughing, "I'll trouble you for thatcigar, if you have done with it. The old gentleman's advice was good. IfI'd never learned to smoke, I wouldn't begin now."

  Our hero was glad to take the cigar from his mouth. The brief time hehad held it was sufficient to make him slightly dizzy.