Brave Tom Or The Battle That Won Part 23

Tom had also quite a sum in the savings-bank, and though he was reluctant to call upon it, yet there was enough to provide both against any want.

Tom said Farmer Pitcairn was a kind man, and thought he should be paid something for his entertainment of the wounded boy, as was manifestly his due; yet he would treat them as well without the slightest compensation.

When the farmer came in, and the case was laid before him, he said that he could make use of Jim at once, and of Tom as soon as he should be able to go around, and they might remain on the farm as long as they chose.

The life of a young farmer was not very attractive to either of the lads, but they concluded to fall back on it until they could find some more agreeable opening.

There was some fear that the two sailors would show themselves again and make trouble, but nothing more of them was ever seen.

When Jim related the story of his abduction, Tom and Mr. Pitcairn boiled with indignation, and insisted on a prosecution of the scoundrels, including Mr. Hornblower, who could easily be reached by the strong arm of the law.

On mature reflection, however, the scheme was abandoned.

Jim made himself as useful as he could; and being unusually bright and quick to learn, he disappointed the farmer with his readiness in picking up the hundreds of mysterious little things which make up the farmer's life.

He learned to milk the cows, to drive the plow, to ride the most fractious horses, and to break the fiery young colts; he knew precisely how to look after the horses, cattle, pigs, sheep, fowls, and everything at night and in the morning.

As Tom regained the use of his limb, he joined him in this pursuit of knowledge, which had a great many pleasant features about it.

They became expert in the use of the gun, and as one of the neighbors owned a rifle which he was willing to lend, they practiced until they grew quite skillful in the use of that weapon.

The pistol afforded another branch of the science of projectiles, and, as the revolver was an unusually good one, they also became remarkably expert in the use of that little "bulldog."

Jim visited the city a short time after his arrival at the farmer's, and brought back all the property belonging to himself and Tom, as well as the money deposited in the savings-bank.

This latter move was one of the best they ever made. Two days after, the bank in which the deposit was made went to pieces, the depositors, consisting mainly of the poorer cla.s.ses of people, losing all, while the officers retired with plethoric pockets to wait till the storm should blow over.

During these beautiful days the lads held long and earnest conferences as to what they should do, for they had reached an age wherein there was little time to spare.

They discussed the plan of learning some useful trade, and decided to do so; but, after several attempts to secure the opportunity, all resulting in failure, they gave it up, concluding that the fates had not intended them for such a life. They could not bring themselves down to the plan of remaining farmers all their days.

Tom would have liked to become a lawyer, and Jim inclined to the profession of medicine; but being without friends to secure the openings, they were compelled to give them the go-by, for the present at least.

Another occupation seemed peculiarly attractive to them; that was one where each could make use of his skill in penmanship, something in the way of clerical work. In the pursuit of this phantom they learned the rather mournful fact that every such situation in the United States has from ten to a hundred applicants.

The boys became well satisfied that Farmer Pitcairn was allowing them to remain with him under the pretense of work, when the real truth was that they were more of a hindrance than a help. This knowledge made them uncomfortable, and caused them to resolve that it should not continue.

The spring wore along until the mild summer came, and still the boys remained with Farmer Pitcairn.

Chapter XVIII.

One night Jim Travers talked a great deal in his sleep. His tossing awoke Tom Gordon several times and caused him some anxiety, which was increased when he touched his friend's cheek and found him suffering with a burning fever. Toward morning Jim's restlessness partly subsided, and he fell into a fitful slumber. Tom dropped off, and did not awake until he heard his friend astir.

"What's the matter?" asked the elder, sitting up in bed and looking in a scared way at Jim, who having partly dressed himself, was sitting on the side of the couch.

"I don't know; I feel awful queer; my head is light; I saw father and sister Maggie last night: did you see anything of them?"

"No; you were dreaming."

"They were here; father came in the room and looked at me, but did not speak and went away, but Maggie took hold of my hand and asked me to go with her. Wasn't it strange, Tom, that she should come back after all these years? I saw her as plain as I do you."

Tom was frightened. Swallowing a lump in his throat, and hiding his agitation as best he could, he said gently,--

"Jim, you are ill. Lie down on the bed again and I'll call Mrs. Pitcairn."

"I'm afraid there is something the matter with me," muttered the younger lad, lying down, his face flushed and his eyes staring. He said something which showed his mind was wandering and he had become flighty.

Tom hastily donned his clothing and hurried downstairs to the farmer's good wife, who lost no time in coming to the room of the boys. By this time Jim had lost all knowledge of his surroundings. He was muttering and saying all sorts of strange things, speaking of his father, of his sister Maggie, and even of his mother, who died when he was a very small boy.

Mrs. Pitcairn had no children of her own, but she had had great experience in the sick-room. She saw, almost at a glance, that Jim Travers was suffering from a violent and dangerous fever. She prepared him a bitter but soothing draught of herbs, and told her husband a physician must be brought without delay.

Farmer Pitcairn felt a strong affection for the two lads, whose singular coming beneath his roof has been told. He was as much concerned as his wife, and, harnessing his horse, drove off at a swift pace for the family doctor, who appeared on the scene a couple of hours later.

"He is ill, very ill," said the physician; "his fever is of a typhus character, though not strictly that. There has been considerable of it this spring and summer in New York."

"Is it contagious?" asked the farmer.

"Somewhat; though it seems to be more of the nature of an epidemic; that is, it travels through the air, appearing without special reason at one place, and then at another. We have had three cases in the neighborhood the past fortnight."

"What was the result?" asked Mrs. Pitcairn.

"One was Mrs. Wilson, an elderly lady; the other her grandson, and a nephew of Mr. Chisholm," replied the doctor, not answering the question.

"What was the result?" repeated Mr. Pitcairn for his wife.

The doctor shook his head, and, with his eyes on the flaming face of Jim Travers, whispered,--

"All three died within twenty-four hours after being taken."

Tom Gordon's eyes filled with tears.

"O Doctor! is it as bad as that?"

"I am sorry to say it is. We shall hope for the best with this young man.

Give him the medicine every hour, and I will call again this evening. You have all been exposed to whatever danger there is in the air, so you need not be alarmed."

"It wouldn't make any difference about that," said Tom; "I'm going to stay with him, and do all I can. I don't care whether or not I catch the fever."

"That is more creditable to your heart than your head. Don't forget," said the doctor, speaking to all, "to watch yourselves closely. At the first appearance of headache, ringing in the ears, and fever, take those powders that I have left on the stand. This is one of the cases where an ounce of prevention is worth a good many pounds of cure. Nothing more can be done for the boy than to follow the prescription I have given you. I will be here again in the evening, unless he should become much worse, when you can send for me."

Tom Gordon will never forget that day and night. He refused to leave the bedside of his friend except for a few minutes. The farmer and his wife were equally faithful, and did all they could for the sufferer, whose condition seemed to show a slight improvement toward the latter part of the afternoon. So much so indeed that all felt hope.

Jim slept at intervals, but continually muttered and flung himself about.

There were flashes of consciousness, when he would look fixedly at those around his bed, and smile in his winning way. He thanked them for their kindness, and hoped he would get well; but he had never felt so strange.