Brave and Bold

H >> Horatio Alger, Jr. >> Brave and Bold

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"It's very expensive," said the miser, ruefully.

"Well, you can afford it, Uncle Paul--there's a comfort in that. I
suppose you are pretty rich, eh?"

"Rich!" repeated Paul, in dismay. "What put such a thing into your
head?"

"Not your style of living, you may be sure of that."

"I am poor, Benjamin. You mustn't think otherwise. I live as well as I
can afford."

"Then what have you been doing with your savings all these years?"

"My savings! It has taken all I had to live. There isn't any money to be
made in farming. It's hard work and poor pay."

"You used to support your family comfortably when you had one."

"Don't--don't speak of them. I can't bear it," said Paul, his
countenance changing. "When I had them I was happy."

"And now you're not. Well, I don't wonder at it. It must be dismal
enough living alone. You need somebody with you. I am your nephew and
nearest relation. I feel that it is my duty to stay with you."

The expression of dismay which overspread the old man's face at this
declaration was ludicrous.

"You stay with me?" he repeated, in a tone of alarm.

"Yes, for a time at least. We'll be company for each other, won't we,
Uncle Paul?"

"No, no; there's no room."

"No room? You don't mean to say that you need the whole house?"

"I mean I cannot afford to have you here. Besides I'm used to being
alone. I prefer it."

"That's complimentary, at any rate. You prefer to be alone rather than
to have me with you?"

"Don't be offended, Benjamin. I've been alone so many years. Besides
you'd feel dull here. You wouldn't like it."

"I'll try it and see. What room are you going to give me?"

"You'd better go away."

"Well, uncle, we'll talk about that to-morrow. You're very considerate
in fearing it will be dull for me, but I've roamed about the world so
much that I shall be glad of a little dullness. So it's all settled. And
now, Uncle Paul, if you don't object I'll take out my pipe and have a
smoke. I always smoke after dinner."

He lit his pipe, and throwing himself back in a chair, began to puff
away leisurely, his uncle surveying him with fear and embarrassment. Why
should his graceless nephew turn up, after so many years, in the form of
this big, broad-shouldered, heavy-bearded stranger, only to annoy him,
and thrust his unwelcome company upon him?

CHAPTER X.

UNCLE AND NEPHEW.

Paul Nichols looked forward with dismay to the prospect of having his
nephew remain with him as a guest. Like all misers, he had a distrust of
every one, and the present appearance of his nephew only confirmed the
impressions he still retained of his earlier bad conduct He had all the
will to turn him out of his house, but Ben was vastly his superior in
size and strength, and he did not dare to attempt it.

"He wants to rob, perhaps to murder me," thought Paul, surveying his big
nephew with a troubled gaze.

His apprehensions were such that he even meditated offering to pay the
intruder's board for a week at the tavern, if he would leave him in
peace by himself. But the reluctance to part with his money finally
prevented such a proposal being made.

In the afternoon the old man stayed around home. He did not dare to
leave it lest Ben should take a fancy to search the house, and come upon
some of his secret hoards, for people were right in reporting that he
hid his money.

At last evening came. With visible discomposure the old man showed Ben
to a room.

"You can sleep there," he said, pointing to a cot bed in the corner of
the room.

"All right, uncle. Good-night!"

"Good-night!" said Paul Nichols.

He went out and closed the door behind him. He not only closed it, but
locked it, having secretly hidden the key in his pocket. He chuckled
softly to himself as he went downstairs. His nephew was securely
disposed of for the night, being fastened in his chamber. But if he
expected Ben Haley quietly to submit to this incarceration he was
entirely mistaken in that individual. The latter heard the key turn in
the lock, and comprehended at once his uncle's stratagem. Instead of
being angry, he was amused.

"So my simple-minded uncle thinks he has drawn my teeth, does he? I'll
give him a scare."

He began to jump up and down on the chamber floor in his heavy boots,
which, as the floor was uncarpeted, made a terrible noise, The old man
in the room below, just congratulating himself on his cunning move,
grew pale as he listened. He supposed his nephew to be in a furious
passion, and apprehensions of personal violence disturbed him. Still he
reflected that he would be unable to get out, and in the morning he
could go for the constable. But he was interrupted by a different noise.
Ben had drawn off his boots, and was firing them one after the other at
the door.

The noise became so intorable, that Paul was compelled to ascend the
stairs, trembling with fear.

"What's the matter?" he inquired at the door, in a quavering voice.

"Open the door," returned Ben.

His uncle reluctantly inserted the key in the lock and opening it
presented a pale, scared face in the doorway. His nephew, with his coat
stripped off, was sitting on the side of the bed.

"What's the matter?" asked Paul.

"Nothing, only you locked the door by mistake," said Ben, coolly.

"What made you make such a noise?" demanded Paul.

"To call you up. There was no bell in the room, so that was the only way
I had of doing it. What made you lock me in?"

"I didn't think," stammered the old man.

"Just what I supposed. To guard against your making that mistake again,
let me have the key."

"I'd rather keep it, if it's the same to you," said Paul, in alarm.

"But it isn't the same to me. You see, Uncle Paul, you are growing old
and forgetful, and might lock me in again. That would not be pleasant,
you know, especially if the house should catch fire in the night."

"What!" exclaimed Paul, terror-stricken, half suspecting his nephew
contemplated turning incendiary.

"I don't think it will, mind, but it's best to be prepared, so give me
the key."

The old man feebly protested, but ended in giving up the key to his
nephew.

"There, that's all right. Now I'll turn in. Good-night."

"Good-night," responded Paul Nichols, and left the chamber, feeling more
alarmed than ever. He was beginning to be more afraid and more
distrustful of his nephew than ever. What if the latter should light on
some of his various hiding places for money? Why, in that very chamber
he had a hundred dollars in gold hidden behind the plastering. He
groaned in spirit as he thought of it, and determined to tell his nephew
the next morning that he must find another home, as he couldn't and
wouldn't consent to his remaining longer.

But when the morning came he found the task a difficult one to enter
upon. Finally, after breakfast, which consisted of eggs and toast, Ben
Haley having ransacked the premises for eggs, which the old man intended
for the market, Paul said, "Benjamin, you must not be offended, but I
have lived alone for years, and I cannot invite you to stay longer."

"Where shall I go, uncle?" demanded Ben, taking out his pipe coolly, and
lighting it.

"There's a tavern in the village."

"Is there? That won't do me any good."

"You'll be better off there than here. They set a very good table,
and----"

"You don't," said Ben, finishing the sentence. "I know that, but then,
uncle, I have two reasons for preferring to stay here. The first is,
that I may enjoy the society of my only living relation; the second is,
that I have not money enough to pay my board at the hotel."

He leaned back, and began to puff leisurely at his pipe, as if this
settled the matter.

"If you have no money, why do you come to me?" demanded Paul, angrily.
"Do you expect me to support you?"

"You wouldn't turn out your sister's son, would you, Uncle Paul?"

"You must earn your own living. I can't support you in idleness."

"You needn't; I'll work for you. Let me see, I'll do the cooking."

"I don't want you here," said the old man, desperately. "Why do you come
to disturb me, after so many years?"

"I'll go away on one condition," said Ben Haley.

"What's that?"

"Give me, or lend me--I don't care which--a hundred dollars."

"Do you think I'm made of money?" asked Paul, fear and anger struggling
for the mastery.

"I think you can spare me a hundred dollars."

"Go away! You are a bad man. You were a wild, bad boy, and you are no
better now."

"Now, Uncle Paul, I think you're rather too hard upon me. Just consider
that I am your nephew. What will people say if you turn me out of
doors?"

"I don't care what they say. I can't have you here."

"I'm sorry I can't oblige you by going, Uncle Paul, but I've got a
headache this morning, and don't feel like stirring. Let me stay with
you a day or two, and then I may go."

Vain were all the old man's expostulations. His nephew sat obstinately
smoking, and refused to move.

"Come out to the barn with me while I milk," said Paul, at length, not
daring to leave his nephew by himself.

"Thank you, but I'm well off as I am. I've got a headache, and I'd
rather stay here."

Milking couldn't longer be deferred. But for the stranger's presence it
would have been attended to two hours earlier. Groaning in spirit, and
with many forebodings, Paul went out to the barn, and in due time
returned with his foaming pails. There sat his nephew in the old place,
apparently not having stirred. Possibly he didn't mean mischief after
all, Paul reflected. At any rate, he must leave him again, while he
released the cows from their stalls, and drove them to pasture. He tried
to obtain his nephew's companionship, but in vain.

"I'm not interested in cows, uncle," he said. "I'll be here when you
come back."

With a sigh his uncle left the house, only half reassured. That he had
reason for his distrust was proved by Ben Haley's movements. He lighted
a candle, and going down celler, first securing a pickax, struck into
the earthen flooring, and began to work energetically.

"I am sure some of the old man's money is here," he said to himself. "I
must work fast, or he'll catch me at it."

Half an hour later Paul Nichols re-entered the house. He looked for his
nephew, but his seat was vacant. He thought he heard a dull thud in the
cellar beneath. He hurried to the staircase, and tottered down. Ben had
come upon a tin quart-measure partly filled with gold coins, and was
stooping over, transferring them to his pocket.

With a hoarse cry like that of an animal deprived of its young, his
uncle sprang upon him, and fastened his clawlike nails in the face of
his burly nephew.

CHAPTER XI.

ROBERT COMES TO THE RESCUE.

The attack was so sudden, and the old man's desperation so reinforced
his feeble strength, that Ben Haley was thrown forward, and the measure
of gold coins fell from his hand. But he quickly recovered himself.

"Let me alone," he said, sternly, forcibly removing his uncle's hands
from his face, but not before the clawlike nails had drawn blood. "Let
me alone, if you know what is best for yourself."

"You're a thief!" screamed Paul. "You shall go to jail for this."

"Shall I?" asked Ben, his face darkening and his tone full of menace.
"Who is going to send me there?"

"I am," answered Paul. "I'll have you arrested."

"Look here, Uncle Paul," said Ben, confining the old man's arms to his
side, "it's time we had a little talk together. You'd better not do as
you say."

"You're a thief! The jail is the place for thieves."

"It isn't the place for me, and I'm not going there. Now let us come to
an understanding. You are rich and I am poor."

"Rich!" repeated Paul.

"Yes; at any rate, you have got this farm, and more money hidden away
than you will ever use. I am poor. You can spare me this money here as
well as not."

"It is all I have."

"I know better than that. You have plenty more, but I will be satisfied
with this. Remember, I am your sister's son."

"I don't care if you are," said the old man, doggedly.

"And you owe me some help. You'll never miss it. Now make up your mind
to give me this money, and I'll go away and leave you in peace."

"Never!" exclaimed Paul, struggling hard to free himself.

"You won't!"

His uncle repeated the emphatic refusal.

"Then I shall have to put it out of your power to carry out your
threat."

He took his uncle up in his strong arms, and moved toward the stairs.

"Are you going to murder me?" asked Paul, in mortal fear.

"You will find out what I am going to do," said Ben, grimly.

He carried his uncle upstairs, and, possessing himself of a clothesline
in one corner of the kitchen, proceeded to tie him hand and foot,
despite his feeble opposition.

"There," said he, when his uncle lay before him utterly helpless, "I
think that disposes of you for a while. Now for the gold."

Leaving him on the floor, he again descended the cellar stairs, and
began to gather up the gold coins, which had been scattered about the
floor at the time of Paul's unexpected attack.

The old man groaned in spirit as he found himself about to be robbed,
and utterly helpless to resist the outrage. But help was near at hand,
though he knew it not. Robert Rushton had thought more than once of his
unknown passenger of the day before, and the particular inquiries he
made concerning Paul Nichols and his money. Ben Haley had impressed him
far from favorably, and the more he called to mind his appearance, the
more he feared that he meditated some dishonest designs upon Paul. So
the next morning, in order to satisfy his mind that all was right, he
rowed across to the same place where he had landed Ben, and fastening
his boat, went up to the farmhouse. He reached it just as Ben, having
secured the old man, had gone back into the cellar to gather up the
gold.

Robert looked into the window, and, to his surprise, saw the old farmer
lying bound hand and foot. He quickly leaped in, and asked:

"What is the matter? Who has done this?"

"Hush!" said the old man, "he'll hear you."

"Who do you mean?"

"My nephew."

"Where is he?"

"Down cellar. He's tied me here, and is stealing all my gold."

"What shall I do? Can I help you?"

"Cut the ropes first."

Robert drew a jackknife from his pocket, and did as he was bidden.

"Now," said Paul, rising with a sigh of relief from his constrained
position, "while I bolt the cellar door, you go upstairs, and in the
closet of the room over this you will find a gun. It is loaded. Bring it
down."

Robert hurried upstairs, and quickly returned with the weapon.

"Do you know how to fire a gun?" asked Paul.

"Yes," said Robert.

"Then keep it. For I am nervous, and my hand trembles. If he breaks
through the door, fire."

Ben Haley would have been up before this, but it occurred to him to
explore other parts of the cellar, that he might carry away as much
booty as possible. He had rendered himself amenable to the law already,
and he might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb, so he argued. He was
so busily occupied that he did not hear the noise of Robert's entrance
into the room above, or he would at once have gone upstairs. In
consequence of the delay his uncle and Robert had time to concert
measures for opposing him.

Finally, not succeeding in finding more gold, he pocketed what he had
found, and went up the cellar stairs. He attempted to open the door,
when, to his great surprise, he found that it resisted his efforts.

"What makes the door stick so?" he muttered, not suspecting the true
state of the case. But he was quickly enlightened.

"You can't come up!" exclaimed the old man, in triumph. "I've bolted the
door."

"How did he get free? He must have untied the knots," thought Ben. "Does
the old fool think he is going to keep me down here?"

"Unlock the door," he shouted, in a loud, stern voice, "or it will be
the worse for you."

"Have you got the gold with you?"

"Yes."

"Then go down and leave it where you found it, and I will let you come
up."

"You're a fool," was the reply. "Do you think I am a child? Open the
door, or I will burst it open with my foot."

"You'd better not," said Paul, whose courage had returned with the
presence of Robert and the possession of the gun.

"Why not? What are you going to do about it?" asked Ben, derisively.

"I've got help. You have more than one to contend with."

"I wonder if he has any one with him?" thought Ben. "I believe the old
fool is only trying to deceive me. At any rate, help or no help, it is
time I were out of this hole."

"If you don't open the door before I count three," he said, aloud, "I'll
burst it open."

"What shall I do," asked Robert, in a low voice, "if he comes out?"

"If he tries to get away with the gold, fire!" said the old man.

Robert determined only to inflict a wound. The idea of taking a human
life, even under such circumstances, was one that made him shudder. He
felt that gold was not to be set against life.

"One--two--three!" counted Ben, deliberately.

The door remaining locked, he drew back and kicked the door powerfully.
Had he been on even ground, it would have yielded to the blow, but
kicking from the stair beneath, placed him at a disadvantage.
Nevertheless the door shook and trembled beneath the force of the attack
made upon it.

"Well, will you unlock it now?" he demanded, pausing.

"No," said the old man, "not unless you carry back the gold."

"I won't do that. I have had too much trouble to get it. But if you
don't unlock the door at once I may be tempted to forget that you are my
uncle."

"I should like to forget that you are my nephew," said the old man.

"The old fool has mustered up some courage," thought Ben. "I'll soon
have him whining for mercy."

He made a fresh attack upon the door. This time he did not desist until
he had broken through the panel. Then with the whole force he could
command he threw himself against the upper part of the door, and it came
crashing into the kitchen. Ben Haley leaped through the opening and
confronted his uncle, who receded in alarm. The sight of the burly form
of his nephew, and his stern and menacing countenance, once more made
him quail.

Ben Haley looked around him, and his eyes lighted upon Robert Rushton
standing beside the door with the gun in his hand.

He burst into a derisive laugh, and turning to his uncle, said: "So this
is the help you were talking about. He's only a baby. I could twist him
around my finger. Just lay down that gun, boy! It isn't meant for
children like you."

CHAPTER XII.

ESCAPE.

Though he had a weapon in his hand, many boys in Robert's situation
would have been unnerved. He was a mere boy, though strong of his age.
Opposed to him was a tall, strong man, of desperate character, fully
resolved to carry out his dishonest purpose, and not likely to shrink
from violence, to which he was probably only too well accustomed. From
the old man he was not likely to obtain assistance, for already Paul's
courage had begun to dwindle, and he regarded his nephew with a scared
look.

"Lay down that gun, boy!" repeated Ben Haley. "I know you. You're the
boy that rowed me across the river. You can row pretty well, but you're
not quite a match for me even at that."

"This gun makes me even with you," said Robert, returning his look
unflinchingly.

"Does it? Then all I can say is, that when you lose it you'll be in a
bad pickle. Lay it down instantly."

"Then lay down the gold you have in your pockets," said our hero, still
pointing his gun at Haley.

"Good boy! Brave boy!" said the old man, approvingly.

"Look here, boy," said Haley, in quick, stern tones, "I've had enough of
this nonsense. If you don't put down that gun in double quick time,
you'll repent it. One word--yes or no!"

"No," said Robert, resolutely.

No sooner had he uttered the monosyllable than Haley sprang toward him
with the design of wresting the gun from him. But Robert had his finger
upon the trigger, and fired. The bullet entered the shoulder of the
ruffian, but in the excitement of the moment he only knew that he was
hit, but this incensed him. In spite of the wound he seized the musket
and forcibly wrested it from our hero. He raised it in both hands and
would probably in his blind fury have killed him on the spot, but for
the sudden opening of the outer door, and entrance of a neighboring
farmer, who felt sufficiently intimate to enter without knocking. This
changed Haley's intention. Feeling that the odds were against him, he
sprang through the window, gun in hand, and ran with rapid strides
towards the river.

"What's the matter?" demanded the new arrival, surveying the scene
before him in astonishment.

"He's gone off with my gold," exclaimed Paul Nichols, recovering from
his stupefaction. "Run after him, catch him!"

"Who is it?"

"Ben Haley."

"What, your nephew! I thought he was dead long ago."

"I wish he had been," said Paul, wringing his hands. "He's taken all my
money--I shall die in the poorhouse."

"I can't understand how it all happened," said the neighbor, looking to
Robert for an explanation. "Who fired the gun?"

"I did," said our hero.

"Did you hit him?"

"I think so. I saw blood on his shirt. I must have hit him in the
shoulder."

"Don't stop to talk," said Paul, impatiently. "Go after him and get back
the gold."

"We can't do much," said the neighbor, evidently not very anxious to
come into conflict with such a bold ruffian. "He has the gun with him."

"What made you let him have it?" asked Paul.

"I couldn't help it," said Robert. "But he can't fire it. It is
unloaded, and I don't think he has any ammunition with him."

"To be sure," said Paul, eagerly. "You see there's no danger. Go after
him, both of you, He can't hurt ye."

Somewhat reassured the neighbor followed Robert, who at once started in
pursuit of the escaped burglar. He was still in sight, though he had
improved the time consumed in the foregoing colloquy, and was already
near the river bank. On he sped, bent on making good his escape with the
money he had dishonestly acquired. One doubt was in his mind. Should he
find a boat? If not, the river would prove an insuperable obstacle, and
he would be compelled to turn and change the direction of his flight.
Looking over his shoulder he saw Robert and the farmer on his track, and
he clutched his gun the more firmly.

"They'd better not touch me," he said to himself. "If I can't fire the
gun I can brain either or both with it."

Thoughts of crossing the stream by swimming occurred to him. A sailor by
profession, he was an expert swimmer, and the river was not wide enough
to daunt him. But his pockets were filled with the gold he had stolen,
and gold is well known to be the heaviest of all the metals. But
nevertheless he could not leave it behind since it was for this he had
incurred his present peril. In this uncertainty he reached the bank of
the river, when to his surprise and joy his eye rested upon Robert's
boat.

"The boy's boat!" he exclaimed, in exultation, "by all that's lucky! I
will take the liberty of borrowing it without leave."

He sprang in, and seizing one of the oars, pushed out into the stream,
first drawing up the anchor. When Robert and his companion reached the
shore he was already floating at a safe distance.

"He's got my boat!" exclaimed our hero, in disappointment.

"So he has!" ejaculated the other.

"You're a little too late!" shouted Ben Haley, with a sneer. "Just carry
back my compliments to the old fool yonder and tell him I left in too
great a hurry to give him my note for the gold he kindly lent me. I'll
attend to it when I get ready."

He had hitherto sculled the boat. Now he took the other oar and
commenced rowing. But here the wound, of which he had at first been
scarcely conscious, began to be felt, and the first vigorous stroke
brought a sharp twinge, besides increasing the flow of blood. His
natural ferocity was stimulated by his unpleasant discovery, and he
shook his fist menacingly at Robert, from whom he had received the
wound.

"There's a reckoning coming betwixt you and me, young one!" he cried,
"and it'll be a heavy one. Ben Haley don't forget that sort of debt. The
time'll come when he'll pay it back with interest. It mayn't come for
years, but it'll come at last, you may be sure of that."

Finding that he could not row on account of his wound, he rose to his
feet, and sculled the boat across as well as he could with one hand.

"I wish I had another boat," said Robert. "We could soon overtake him."

"Better let him go," said the neighbor. "He was always a bad one, that
Ben Haley. I couldn't begin to tell you all the bad things he did when
he was a boy. He was a regular dare-devil. You must look out for him, or
he'll do you a mischief some time, to pay for that wound."

"He brought it on himself," said Robert "I gave him warning."

He went back to the farmhouse to tell Paul of his nephew's escape. He
was brave and bold, but the malignant glance with which Ben Haley
uttered his menace, gave him a vague sense of discomfort.

CHAPTER XIII.

REVENGE.

In spite of his wounded arm Ben Haley succeeded in propelling the boat
to the opposite shore. The blood was steadily, though slowly, flowing
from his wound, and had already stained his shirt red for a considerable
space. In the excitement of first receiving it he had not felt the pain;
now, however, the wound began to pain him, and, as might be expected,
his feeling of animosity toward our hero was not diminished.

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