The Young Bridge-Tender Part 18

"We are, Mr. d.i.c.ks. What can you expect, after the way you have treated me?"

"I--I couldn't help votin' in the committee with the squire and Ben Hooker," returned the storekeeper, lamely. "They said it was a clear case against you."

"And therefore you wouldn't give me a chance to clear myself," said Ralph, bitterly. "How much is the bill?"

"Three dollars and nineteen cents. I'll call it three dollars if you'll keep on buying here," went on Uriah, desperately.

It made his heart fairly ache to see trade going to one of the rival stores.

"I prefer to settle in full," rejoined the boy, coolly. "Take the three dollars and nineteen cents out of this five-dollar bill."

With an inward groan, Uriah took out the amount, handed back the change, and crossed the account from the book.

"Got anything to do?" he asked, a sudden idea flashing through his head.

"Not yet."

"I might take you on here--I need a boy."

"And what would you pay?" questioned Ralph, although he knew about what to expect from the miserly man he was addressing.

"Well, I'd be willin' to pay a big boy like you two dollars and a half a week. I wouldn't pay a small boy so much."

"Thank you, but I wouldn't work for that, even if I cared to work for you, Mr. d.i.c.ks. Two dollars and a half wouldn't run our house."

"I would let you have your groceries at cost," said Uriah, as an extra inducement.

The truth was, many of his customers had upbraided him for aiding in the discharge of Ralph as bridge tender, and he wished to set himself right with these folks.

"I do not care to work for you, sir. I think I can get work I will like better and which will pay more elsewhere."

The storekeeper's face fell, and he closed the dirty ledger with a slam.

"All right, Ralph, suit yourself. But if you starve to death, don't lay it at my door, mind that!"

"No fear of my starving," returned the boy, lightly, and he left the store.

Uriah watched him from behind the dirty windows of his place. He heaved a big sigh as he saw Ralph enter the opposition store just across the way, and groaned aloud when the youth came out with half-a-dozen packages under his arm, and started for home.

"I guess I put my foot into it when I sided with the squire," he meditated.

"But it had to be done. Anyway, the squire's trade is bigger than the Nelsons', so I'm better off than I might be," and, thus consoling himself, he went back to his accounts.

To Uriah d.i.c.ks all such matters were questions of dollars and cents, not of justice.

When Ralph arrived home, he told his mother of the storekeeper's offer.

"Do you think I did wrong in refusing?" he asked.

"No, Ralph; I would have done the same."

"I fancy I can strike a job that will pay better--anyway, I am going to try."

Sunday of the week pa.s.sed quietly enough, and on Monday morning Ralph brushed up his every-day clothes, took along the lunch his mother put up for him, and left the cottage to try his luck among the stores and factories in Eastport.

"Don't be alarmed if I am not home until night, mother," he said. "I may strike a situation in which they wish me at once."

"All right, Ralph," she returned. "Good luck to you."

But Ralph did not get to Eastport that day. As he was crossing the bridge a young man on a small sailboat hailed him. It was Roy Parkhurst, a fellow Ralph knew well.

"Hallo, Ralph!" he called out. "The job on the bridge and you have parted company, I am told."

"Yes, Roy."

"Doing anything to-day?"

"No, I was just bound for Eastport to look for work."

"Then you are just the fellow I am looking for," said Parkhurst.

"What for?"

"I want to sail down to Martinton and have this boat taken back here. If you'll undertake the job I'll give you a dollar."

"I'll go you," returned Ralph promptly. "I can put off looking for another situation until to-morrow."

"Then jump in."

Parkhurst ran his boat close to the bridge, and Ralph sprang down on one of the seats. Soon the two were moving down Silver Lake at all the speed the little craft commanded.

It was a splendid day, with a stiff breeze blowing, and by noon Martinton was reached. Then, giving Ralph directions as to where the boat was to be left in Westville, Roy Parkhurst quit the boat, and, having eaten the lunch, the boy started on the return, never dreaming of the excitement in store for him.

CHAPTER XIV.

A STORMY TIME.

Like his father before him, Ralph had always liked the water. He was perfectly familiar with the handling of all manner of small craft, and, had it paid, would have liked nothing better than to follow a life on the lakes.

But situations on the water which brought in a fair remuneration were scarce in the vicinity of Westville, and so the boy did not attempt a search for employment in that direction.

The half-day's job before him suited him exactly, and, after leaving Martinton, he settled back with his hand on the tiller and his eyes on the sails in great satisfaction.

"I wouldn't mind owning a boat like this," he thought, as the swift little craft cut along through the water. "Perhaps I might do very well taking out pleasure parties during the summer."

Inside of half an hour Martinton was left far behind. Then Ralph noted that the fair sky was gradually becoming overcast.