Part 20 (1/2)

”Wait a minute, Squire Walker,” said Harry. ”I won't go back to Jacob Wire's, anyhow. Just hear what I have got to say; and then, if you want to take me, you may, if you can.”

It was evident, even to the squire, that Harry had something of importance to say; and he involuntarily paused to hear it.

”I have found your pocketbook, squire, and--”

”Give it to me, and I won't touch you,” cried the overseer, eagerly.

It was clear that the loss of his pocketbook had produced a salutary impression on the squire's mind. He loved money, and the punishment was more than he could bear.

”I was walking along here, last night, when I struck my foot against something. I picked it up, and found it was a pocketbook. I haven't opened it. Here it is;” and Harry handed him his lost treasure.

”By gracious!” exclaimed he, after he had a.s.sured himself that the contents of the pocketbook had not been disturbed. ”That is more than ever I expected of you, Master Harry West.”

”I mean to be honest,” replied Harry, proudly.

”Perhaps you do. I told you, Harry, I wouldn't touch you; and I won't,” continued the squire. ”You may go.”

The overseer was amazed. He had come to Boston with the intention of catching Harry, cost what it might,--he meant to charge the expense to the town; but the recovery of his money had warmed his heart, and banished the malice he cherished toward the boy.

Squire Walker volunteered some excellent advice for the guidance of the little pilgrim, who, he facetiously observed, had now no one to look after his manners and morals--manners first, and morals afterwards. He must be very careful and prudent, and he wished him well. Harry, however, took this wholesome counsel as from whom it came, and was not very deeply impressed by it.

John Lane came to the stable soon after, and congratulated our hero upon the termination of the persecution from Redfield, and, when his horses were hitched on, bade him good bye, with many hearty wishes for his future success.

CHAPTER XIII

IN WHICH HARRY BECOMES A STABLE BOY, AND HEARS BAD NEWS FROM ROCKVILLE

Harry was exceedingly rejoiced at the remarkable turn his affairs had taken. It is true, he had lost the treasure upon which his fancy had built so many fine castles; but he did not regret the loss, since it had purchased his exemption from the Redfield persecution. He had conquered his enemy--which was a great victory--by being honest and upright; and he had conquered himself--which was a greater victory--by listening to the voice within him. He resisted temptation, and the victory made him strong.

Our hero had won a triumph, but the battlefield was still spread out before him. There were thousands of enemies lurking in his path, ready to fall upon and despoil him of his priceless treasure--his integrity.

”She had hoped he would be a good boy.” He had done his duty--he had been true in the face of temptation. He wanted to write to Julia then, and tell her of his triumph--that, when tempted, he had thought of her, and won the victory.

The world was before him; it had no place for idlers, and he must get work. The contents of the basket were not yet exhausted, and he took it to a retired corner to eat his breakfast. While he was thus engaged, Joe Flint, the ostler, happened to see him.

”That is cold comfort,” said he. ”Why don't you go to the tavern and have your breakfast like a gentleman?”

”I can't afford it,” replied Harry.

”Can't afford it? How much did the man that owned the pocketbook give you?”

”Nothing.”

”Nothing! I'm blamed if he ain't a mean one!” exclaimed Joe, heartily.

”I don't wonder you run away.”

”I didn't want anything. I was too glad to get clear of him to think of anything else.”