Dick Lionheart Part 6

"Well, then, take my advice and train it as far as your money will go.

A ticket for thirty or forty miles will get you beyond the beat of these fair folks, and be cheaper than tramping in the end. Jump up, and I'll drive round by the station and see about a train. Nonsense about trouble. You've saved me more than that to-day."

d.i.c.k made a rapid calculation, and felt that he could not spend more wisely the rider's half-crown, and, indeed, all the wonderful takings of the day, and in a few minutes he found himself in the corner of a third cla.s.s carriage, bound northwards, with a ticket good for forty miles of travel in his hand, and Pat's fare "seen to" by his kind-hearted friend.

CHAPTER VI.

A HOME IN IRONBORO'.

d.i.c.k could only dimly remember one railway journey before and he curled up in the corner of the carriage with a sense of luxurious ease and held Pat close, rejoicing in his rescue. An old woman sat on the same seat, dressed in a black gown and lilac print ap.r.o.n, with a curtain bonnet of the same print on her head. She held tightly the handle of a huge marketing basket that seemed full to overflowing, while on the top a bunch of late chrysanthemums made a spot of gay colour.

Opposite, a tired-looking mother sat with two fractious children, going home from the fair. They were very naughty at first, but the sight of Pat's black head arrested their crying, and d.i.c.k and his dog kept them amused till they got out at the next station. "A pity to bring children up like that," said the country-woman, confidentially.

"Sweets enough to make 'em bad for a week, to say nothing of the giddy-go-rounds and ginger-bread. Ah, well, 'twasn't like it in my young days. Not that I'm against a good wholesome cake or two, especially for young folks. I'll give _you_ one if you'll read this letter to me?" she added, looking inquiringly at d.i.c.k. "You see, I'm going to see my son at Manchester, and they've sent to tell me all about the changing at Crow Junction, and I can't read writing very well."

d.i.c.k had been enjoying the sight of fields and hedges rushing past and trying to count the telegraph wires, but he turned at once and said, "I'll read it with pleasure, if I can. And I'm getting out at Crow Junction, and I can help you change, if I can find out what it means."

"It's getting out of one train into another, and you might carry my basket, maybe. You see, I've got a band-box, and my umbrella and pattens besides. I had to bring them, not knowing how the roads might be up there, and with damp feet I get rheumaticy directly."

d.i.c.k managed to get through the ill-spelled letter, and learned its instructions by heart, and then was rewarded with a home-made flakey cake, out of the big basket, that was better than all the fairings they had left behind.

It was splendid to feel that the swift engine was bearing him on towards his destination so easily, and that every mile made one less to be tramped on foot.

Both Pat and his master would have been willing to travel on all night by rail, but the forty miles were soon pa.s.sed, and they got out at the busy junction.

The old woman was helped in her changing, and then d.i.c.k earned twopence by carrying a heavy portmanteau for another pa.s.senger. And then the two pilgrims took to the road again.

The days that followed were very much alike, and in after years d.i.c.k remembered little about this part of the journey.

Sometimes he earned enough to buy a meal or pay for a humble night's lodging, but they would often have been very hungry but for Paddy's half-crown. This was spent carefully, a penny at a time, and chiefly for dry bread.

The last sixpence had been changed when a sign-post with the words "Ironboro' two miles" was pa.s.sed. d.i.c.k took off his cap and looked up to the wintry sky with joy and grat.i.tude, and there and then thanked G.o.d.

No Lionheart crusader could have felt more fervent gladness at the first sight of the Holy City!

Bub d.i.c.k's goal did not look very promising, as he drew near. A pall of smoke hung low over the narrow streets, tall chimneys sent black clouds into the biting air, and there was the clang and whirl of machinery, and the throb of huge hammers going on all the time.

He was entering the town by the least inviting road. On one side were rows of miserable houses with broken windows and grimy walls and doors, that looked as if all their brightness had gone into the smart public-houses on each corner.

On the other side stretched a piece of waste land, where iron clinkers and slag lay in great heaps, and rubbish of all kinds was deposited.

Not a blade of gra.s.s or tree could be seen, and the children playing and quarrelling together were as dingy as the dirt they played with.

Two big lads were standing by the edge of a dark pool, not far from the roadside, laughing at something that wriggled in their hands.

Suddenly a little girl darted across and s.n.a.t.c.hed at this, crying, "It's my kitty! It's mine, I tell you. Give her to me, she's mine!"

But the cruel tormenter only held the kitten higher, and showed the string and the stone his companion was tying to her neck.

The little girl screamed aloud, and flung herself upon him in a vain attempt to reach the kitten, which was mewing pitifully. In her excitement she was in great danger of falling into the black water.

"Now then, one, two, three, and----" Before he could finish and throw the captive in, d.i.c.k had sprung to the rescue.

"For shame! How can you be such a coward?" he cried, seizing the outstretched arm of the bully so fiercely that he released his hold.

"And who are you, I should like to know? Take that for interfering!"

And he flung out his clenched fist for a terrific blow.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'TAKE THAT FOR INTERFERING!'"]

But Lionheart was too quick for him, darting aside he dodged the blow and at the same moment s.n.a.t.c.hed the kitten and pushed her into the child's outstretched arms. The other coward had drawn back at Pat's threatening growl. The dog looked fierce enough for anything, and when he saw the blow aimed at his master he seized the bully by the leg and held him fast.

What might have happened next cannot be told, for at that moment the little girl raised a joyous shout. "Daddy, oh, daddy, come quick!

Here, daddy!"

At her eager cry a man hurrying down the road stopped and then ran to the pool.

"Nellie, where have you been, and what's all this?"

"It's my kitty, daddy, they were going to drown her, and this boy and his doggie saved her life."

And with tears and smiles together the child clung to her father and hugged the almost suffocated kitten in her pinafore.

"Jem Whatman, at your cowardly pranks again! How dare you touch the kitten?"

At this moment, as if conscious that able reinforcements had come, Pat let go the mouthful of cloth, and without stopping to reply Jem darted away after his companion, muttering threats as he went.

"You are a brave boy to tackle two bullies at once in that fashion,"

said the father kindly as he swung the little girl up in his strong arms. "And there's breeding about that terrier of yours, and no mistake!"

Pat was still breathing quickly and wagging his tail excitedly, as if expecting another battle. "You are a stranger to me, and yet I seem to know your face. What is your name?"

d.i.c.k almost answered "Lionheart," but stopped just in time. "Richard Hart Crosby."

"Of course! And you're his living image; but he had neither wife nor child."

"Do you mean my uncle, sir. Do you know him."

"Know d.i.c.k Crosby? Almost as well as I know Nellie here. And I've heard him speak of his brother many times."

"Then, sir, if you know him, won't you tell me where he lives, that I may go to him at once? I only heard about him just lately, and I've come all the way from Venley to find him."

"I'll tell you all I can, but you can't go to him to-day, for he went off to Klond.y.k.e more than a year ago, and I've only heard from him once since he went."

Poor d.i.c.k! The disappointment following so quickly on success was almost too much. A big lump came in his throat and tears blurred his sight, so that he could scarcely see the ugly rubbish heap and the cinders that lay around.

But he had made resolve that he would not cry, whatever happened, and so he resolutely ordered tears away and again faced his new friend.

"How did you get here, laddie?"