Part 9 (2/2)
”_Your_ pony?”
Suddenly Lewis remembered. He threw up his head and called out as he was bidden. People nudged one another, but no man spoke. Then a wag on the outskirts of the crowd shouted:
”I'll give thee a penny for what's left of that horse, brother.”
There was a ripple of laughter. Lewis colored, and his eyes grew moist.
”He says he will give a penny,” he said.
”A penny?” said the stranger, gravely. ”Take it. Cash, mind you. Cash on delivery.”
The sale was made amid general consternation. As the dazed wag led his purchase away, he trembled as though from a first stroke of paralysis.
The marketplace began to buzz, to hum, and then to shout, ”A stranger sells horses for a penny, cash on delivery!” They laughed and crowded nearer. Merchants forgot their dignity, and came running from the streets of the town.
”Now, boy, this one,” said the stranger, poking a mule; ”but be careful.
Be careful to wait for the highest bid.”
The stranger's warning came just in time. No sooner had Lewis called the mule for sale than bids rained on him from every side. One after the other, in rapid succession, the animals were sold; but no more went for a penny.
His pockets stuffed with notes and silver, the stranger pushed his way through the crowd, suddenly grown silent. On the way to the river he paid off his men. He climbed into the canoe, and Lewis followed. The boatmen shoved off.
The wag, leading Lewis's pony, had followed them to the river-bank.
”Show me thy hoof, partner,” he shouted, laughing, to the stranger.
”Thou shouldst deal in souls, not in horses. I would I had shaken thy hand. G.o.d go with thee!”
The stranger calmly counted his money.
”Boy,” he said, ”I have just given you a five-year life in five minutes.
Write this down in your mind. In high finance he who knows figures starves on two dollars a day; success comes to him who knows men.”
During the long hours in the dirty train that jerked them toward the coat and civilization the stranger began to grow nervous. Lewis looked up more than once to find himself the object of a troubled gaze. They were the only pa.s.sengers. There were moments when the road-bed permitted s.n.a.t.c.hes of conversation, but it was during a long stop on a side-track that the stranger unburdened himself.
”Boy,” he said, ”the time is coming when I must tell you my name.”
”I know your name,” said Lewis.
”What!” cried the stranger.
”I know your name,” repeated Lewis; ”it is Leighton.”
”How? How do you know?” The stranger was frowning.
”No,” said Lewis, quietly; ”I haven't been looking through your things.
One day my--my foster-father and my foster-mother were talking. They did not know I was near. I didn't realize they were talking about me until mammy spoke up. Mammy is--well, you know, she's just a mammy----”
<script>