Bernard Brooks' Adventures: The Experience of a Plucky Boy. Horatio Alger Jr.

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      “Lawrence Atwood.”

      “Is the buggy you were driving your own?”

      “No, and that reminds me, I ought to return it to the stable from which I hired it.”

      “Where is that, sir?”

      “Brooks’ stable, in Doncaster.”

      “I suppose you could get a man from the hotel to drive it back – by paying him, of course.”

      “That is a good suggestion. I would ask you to take it back, but it might lead to your being captured by Mr. Snowdon.”

      “Yes, sir; that would be my only objection.”

      “Very well! Go down-stairs and see what arrangement you can make.”

      Going down-stairs Bernard had the good luck to find a young man from Doncaster, Freedom Wentworth, who was about to start back.

      “Hello, Bernard!” exclaimed the young man, in surprise. “When did you come here?”

      “Half an hour ago. I say, Freed, when do you go back to Doncaster?”

      “I am just starting back. I wish I could meet somebody going that way, as I don’t like the idea of walking.”

      “I can fix you out. There is a gentleman up-stairs who wants to send back a buggy to Brooks’ stable. If you will take charge of it he will pay you for your trouble.”

      “I’m in luck. Tell him I shall be very glad to oblige him.”

      Bernard went up-stairs and reported to Mr. Penrose.

      “Do you know this young man Wentworth?” asked Penrose.

      “Yes, sir. He is a very reliable young man.”

      “Then I accept his offer. Take this five-dollar bill, and ask him to pay Brooks out of it and keep the balance himself.”

      “I will, sir.”

      Bernard delivered his commission, and Freedom Wentworth started on his drive.

      After he had got off Bernard bethought himself of a mistake he had made.

      “I ought to have told Freed not to mention his meeting me. If it gets to the ears of Mr. Snowdon, he may take it into his head to come after me.”

      It was certainly a pity that Bernard had not bethought himself of this prudent precaution, as it proved.

      Septimus Snowdon was standing in front of Brooks’ stable as Wentworth drove up.

      “Where have you come from?” he asked.

      “From Poplar Plains.”

      “Did you see anything of Bernard Brooks on the way?”

      “Yes, he is at the Poplar Plains Hotel. Did your father send him there?”

      “Aha!” soliloquized Septimus in exultation. “I’ll tell pa, and we’ll go after him.”

      “I hope I haven’t done Bernard any harm,” thought Freedom. “He’s worth half a dozen boys like Septimus Snowdon.”

      CHAPTER VI. BERNARD’S DANGER

      By the way,” said Mr. Penrose suddenly, “it has just occurred to me that I have had no breakfast.”

      “It is the same case with me,” returned Bernard, smiling.

      “Bless my soul! How hungry you must be!”

      “Don’t you feel hungry, Mr. Penrose?”

      “Yes, but my appetite isn’t equal to that of a growing boy. What time is it?”

      “I have no watch, Mr. Penrose.”

      “Then I will look at my own. It is nine o’clock. Won’t you go down stairs, Bernard, and ask if breakfast is over.”

      Bernard returned with the information that the regular breakfast was over, but that a special breakfast for the two guests would be ready in half an hour.

      “That will be satisfactory.”

      Bernard thought it would be satisfactory to him also, for he felt, to use an expression of his own, “as hungry as a bear.”

      It is needless to say that both enjoyed their breakfast.

      “I suppose,” said Mr. Penrose, smiling, “that important business prevented your breakfasting with my old teacher, Mr. Snowdon.”

      “Yes, sir; very important business.”

      “Does he provide a liberal table?”

      “Very far from it, sir.”

      “So I imagined; though when I was his pupil, he had no boarding pupils. Suppose we take a walk about the town. I have never been in Poplar Plains before.”

      “All right, sir.”

      It was two hours before they returned. They had sauntered to the river and taken a seat on the bank under some old trees that afforded a grateful shelter. Mr. Penrose found himself more and more attracted by the frank, open nature of his boy companion.

      “Really, Bernard,” he said, “I find you a very agreeable comrade. I am glad I fell in with you.”

      “I shouldn’t think you would be, sir.”

      “Why not?”

      “Because Mr. Snowdon says I am a bad lot.”

      “I am disposed to think that Mr. Snowdon himself is a bad lot.”

      Finally they rose and made their way back to the hotel.

      In front of it was a rusty-looking chaise drawn by a rawboned horse, whose skin was worn away in several places.

      Bernard started in dismay.

      “Mr. Snowdon has come after me,” he said quickly.

      “What makes you think so?”

      “That horse and carriage is one that he always hires. He gets it because he can hire it for half the price of a stable team.”

      “But there is no one in the carriage.”

      “He is probably in the hotel. I don’t know what to do.”

      “How could he have got track of you?”

      “Freed Wentworth must have told him I was here. You see, I forgot to tell Freed not to speak of seeing me. Do you think he can carry me back?”

      “I’ll tell you what to do, Bernard. Go back to the river side, and I will go forward and meet him. When the coast is clear I will go and find you.”

      “Thank you, sir.”

      Mr. СКАЧАТЬ