Jack the Hunchback: A Story of Adventure on the Coast of Maine. Otis James

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СКАЧАТЬ had not stepped quickly back as he said, —

      "He's afraid of folks he don't know, an' if you get him to cryin' I'll have a worse time than last night. What he wants is somethin' to eat."

      "Take 'em right up to the house, Tommy, an' tell mother to give them breakfast. When I get the boat hauled around (for I've got every reason to consider her mine), I'll carry both out to Thornton's."

      Jack clambered from the craft, disdaining Tom's assistance, and, taking the child in his arms, much as a small cat might carry a very large kitten, stood waiting for his guide to lead the way.

      Farmer Pratt's son was in no especial hurry to reach home, for while escorting the strangers he certainly could not be expected to shovel seaweed, and Jack said as Tom walked leisurely over the hot sand, —

      "If you don't go faster, the baby'll begin to cry, for he's pretty near starved."

      "Why not let him walk? He's big enough; his legs are twice as large as Mrs. Libby's baby, an' he went alone a good while ago."

      "I'd rather carry him," Jack replied; and then he refused to enter into any conversation until they were at the foot of the narrow, shady lane leading to the house, when he asked, "Who's Mr. Thornton?"

      "He keeps the poor farm, an' father's goin' to take you out there."

      "What for? We want to go to New York."

      "Well, you see I don't reckon you'll get as far as that without a slat of money, an' father wants to put you fellers where you'll be took care of for a while."

      Jack stopped suddenly, allowed the baby to slip from his arms under the shade of an apple-tree whose blossoms filled the air with perfume, as he said angrily, —

      "Louis sha'n't be taken to the poorhouse! I'll walk my feet off before anybody but his mother shall get him."

      "You couldn't go as far as New York, an' if he's so hungry you'd better let him have some bread an' milk."

      "How long before your father'll be back?"

      "It'll take him a couple of hours to carry the boat down to the Neck, an' that's the only place where she can lie without gettin' stove."

      "Then we'll go into your house long enough to feed the baby, an' I'll leave before he comes."

      "All right," and Tom took up the line of march once more. "I don't know as I blame you, for Thornton's ain't the nicest place that ever was, an' I'd rather haul seaweed for a month than stay there one night."

      Jack looked wistfully at the little farmhouse with its beds of old maid's pinks and bachelor's buttons in front of the muslin-curtained windows, thinking, perhaps, that shelter should be given him there rather than among the town's paupers; but he made no remark, and a few moments later they were standing in the cool kitchen while Tom explained to his mother under what circumstances he had made the acquaintance of the strangers.

      Mrs. Pratt was quite as economical as her husband; but the baby face touched her heart fully as much as did the fact that the boat in which the children had drifted ashore would amply repay any outlay in the way of food and shelter.

      She accepted the statement made by Tom, that the children were to be sent to Thornton's, because the town provided such an asylum, and there was no good reason, in her mind at least, why it should not be utilized in a case like this.

      Thus, with the pleasing knowledge that her involuntary guests would remain but a short time and cost her nothing, she set out a plentiful supply of fresh milk and sweet home-made bread, as she said, —

      "Fill yourselves right full, children, for it will rest you to eat, and after you've had a nice ride, Mrs. Thornton will give you a chance to sleep."

      Jack looked up quickly as if about to make an angry reply, and then, as little Louis went toward the table eagerly, he checked himself, devoting all his attention to the child by waiting until the latter had finished before he partook of as much as a spoonful.

      Then he ate rapidly, and after emptying two bowls of milk, asked, —

      "May I put some of the bread in my pocket?'"

      "Certainly, child; but it won't be needed, for there is plenty to eat at Thornton's, and most likely in a few days the selectmen will find some way to send word to the baby's relatives."

      Jack put three slices of bread in his pocket before replying, and then, as with an effort he lifted Louis in his arms, said, —

      "We're not goin' to the poor farm, ma'am. We are bound to get to New York, an' thank you for the bread an' milk."

      Just at that moment Mrs. Pratt was intent on carrying the dishes from the table to the pantry, therefore she did not see the deformed boy leave the house quickly, Tom following close behind.

      Jack heard her call after him to wait until Mr. Pratt should return; but he shook his head decidedly, and trudged out from the green-carpeted lane to the dusty road, bent only on saving his little charge from the ignominy of the poorhouse.

      "Say, hold on for father!" Tom cried. "You can't walk even so far as Saco, an' where'll you sleep to-night?"

      "I'd rather stay in the woods, an' so had Louis," Jack replied; and then in reply to the child's fretful cries, he added, "Don't fuss; I'll find your mother."

      "But how can you do it if the ship has blowed up?" Tom asked, quickening his steps to keep pace with the deformed boy. "Perhaps mother'll let you sleep in my bed to-night, an' you won't have to go out to the poor farm."

      "And then again she mightn't, so I guess we won't risk it."

      "Have you got any money?"

      "Not a cent."

      Tom halted irresolutely for a moment, and then his charitable impulses gained the mastery.

      "Here's half of what I've got, an' I wish it was more."

      Involuntarily Jack extended his hand for the gift.

      Four marbles were dropped into it, and then Tom turned and ran like a deer as if afraid he might regret his generosity.

      The dusty road wound its way among the fields like a yellow ribbon on a green cloth, offering no shelter from the burning rays of the sun, and stretching out in a dreary length.

      The hunchback plodded steadily on with his heavy burden, and as he walked the good people in the neighboring city of Portland were reading in their morning papers the following item: —

A SINGULAR EXPLOSION

      The ship "Atlanta" anchored inside the breakwater just before midnight, and her master reports a remarkable accident.

      The "Atlanta" loaded at Savannah last week with cotton wing to baffling winds she was eighty miles off Wood Island yesterday afternoon when an explosion occurred which blew off the main hatch, and was followed by dense volumes of what appeared to be smoke.

      Believing the ship to be on fire, Capt. Littlefield's first thought was of his wife and child, who were on board. The lifeboat was lowered, and in her were placed the captain's son and the cabin boy, a hunchback.

      Before Mrs. Littlefield could be gotten over the side, the sailors reported no fire in the hold, and the vapor supposed to be smoke was probably the gases arising from the turpentine СКАЧАТЬ