Part 5 (1/2)
”Can't I help you?” the old man inquired, as he stood watching with admiration the girl's light step and the skilful way she did everything. There was a longing in his eyes as well, for he wanted to be of some use but did not know how.
”Yes, you can help me,” and Betty smiled upon him, ”by taking that coat off and sitting down upon that nice cosy place near the stove. It was certainly made for comfort, and the man who owns this building must spend his evenings there. What a lot of books he has. He must read a great deal.”
David was only too glad to obey, so after he had taken off his coat and hung it up back of the stove to dry, he stretched himself at full length upon the settle.
”This does feel good,” and he gave a sigh of relief.
”You're tired, that's what's the trouble with you,” Betty replied.
”You shouldn't have a bit of work to do. You're too old, and you should have some one to look after you all the time.”
”How nice it would be if we could live in a place like this, and not go back to Jim Goban's. Would you be willing to take care of me?” David asked.
”Sure, I would like nothing better. But, then, there are some things in the way.”
”What are they?”
”Well, you see, there's the question of money. We haven't any ourselves, and I don't think any one is likely to drop it at our feet in a hurry. And besides, Jim's got you for a year and he wouldn't want to give you up; he's going to get a lot of work out of you, so he plans.”
”I know that only too well, Betty. But when I get rich, I mean. If I had a little place like this you would look after me, would you not? I would pay you well, and we could be so happy.”
”Indeed we could. But you haven't the money yet and we must try to be as happy as we can in the meantime. That's what ma says, and she really does practise it. So I've got to look after you now when you can't pay me. I'm going to see if I can't find something to eat. The man who lives here surely doesn't live on air. He must have some food in the house.”
It did not take Betty long to find the cupboard. This was nothing more than a box nailed to the wall, on which a rude door had been fastened.
There were three shelves and on these were a loaf of bread, some cold meat, potatoes, eggs and cheese.
”Isn't this great!” she exclaimed, as she brought forth what she needed. ”I can warm up these potatoes, and we shall have a grand supper.”
”I am worrying about the man who owns those things,” David remarked.
”He might not mind our using his house, but when it comes to making free with his provisions, it might be a different matter. Do you think it is right for us to touch them?”
”We won't take all,” and Betty stood before the table eying the meat and potatoes. ”We can leave enough for him. If he is a kind man he will not mind our taking some of his supper. How dark it is getting,”
she added. ”I shall light that lamp. Now, isn't that better,” she continued when this had been accomplished. ”We shall have supper in a short time.”
While Betty busied herself about the stove, David remained stretched out upon the settle. Outside, the storm increased in fury, and the rain heat against the window. Within, all was snug and warm. The girl even hummed softly to herself as she went on with her work.
When supper was ready, Betty spoke to David. As he made no reply, she went to his side and, to her surprise, found that he was asleep. An expression of tender compa.s.sion came into the girl's eyes as she watched him. She knew how tired he was and she would not wake him. It was better, so she thought, that he should sleep. Drawing up a chair, she sat down by his side. A feeling came to her that it was her duty to care for this old man who was so helpless. She could not do much, but when Betty Bean had once made up her mind it was seldom that she could be turned from her purpose.
CHAPTER V
UNMASKED
All the morning Jasper Randall was busy hoeing potatoes in the large field near the main highway. He liked the work, for he was alone and could give himself up to thought as he drove the hoe into the yielding earth. His task suited him well, and as he tore out innumerable weeds, slas.h.i.+ng down a big one here and another there, he was in reality overcoming and defeating opponents of the brain. They were all there between the rows, and he could see them so plainly. The lesser ones he could sweep away at one stroke, but that quitch gra.s.s was more difficult to conquer. He could cut it off, but its roots would remain firmly embedded in the ground and would spring forth again. It was a nasty, persistent weed. Little wonder that he attacked it most fiercely, for it reminded him of the weed of injustice with which he had been contending for years. Other enemies, like the smaller weeds, he could overcome, but injustice, that quitch gra.s.s of life, was what stung him to fury. Little did Simon Squabbles, the tight old skin-flint, realise that the lone man working in his potato field was doing the work of two men that morning, and at the same time slaying a whole battalion of bitter enemies. The contest was continued during the afternoon. The quitch gra.s.s was thicker now, and the struggle harder. With savage delight Jasper had just torn out a whole handful and had shaken it free from its earth as a dog would shake a rat, when the honk of an auto caused him to look toward the road. As he did so, his face underwent a marvellous transformation. The car was only a few seconds in pa.s.sing, but it was sufficient for him to recognise the occupants, see the amused expression upon their faces, and hear their salutation of ”Spuds,” as they sped by. His strong, supple body trembled as he leaned for a while upon his hoe and gazed down the road after the rapidly disappearing car. He must have remained thus for several minutes oblivious to everything else. Neither did he see his hard taskmaster watching him in the distance. But when he again resumed his hoeing he worked more fiercely than ever, and there was danger at times lest the frail hoe should break beneath his tremendous strokes. Up one row and down another he moved all the afternoon. He seemed like a giant tearing up the earth, rather than a man performing a prosaic task. When toward evening the sky darkened, the wind began to blow and the rain to fall, he hardly noticed it at first. Only when the earth became mucky and stuck constantly to his hoe, did he leave his work and go across the field toward the barn. It was time, anyway, to help with the ch.o.r.es. He was anxious to get through that he might go home. He was glad that it was Sat.u.r.day, for he would have the next day free.
It was dark by the time his tasks were done, and then he went to the house for his week's pay. He had agreed to work for a dollar and a half a day, and get his own breakfast and supper at home. Thus he had nine dollars coming to him for his week's work. He was surprised, therefore, when Simon Squabbles handed him out only eight dollars and fifty cents.
”There is some mistake here,” Jasper remarked as he counted over the money. ”I want fifty cents more.”
”That's all you're goin' to get,” Simon replied. ”I saw ye loafin'