THE TIN BOX
CHAPTER I
A COLLISION
"Have you finished breakfast already, Harry?" asked Mrs. Gilbert, asHarry rose hurriedly from the table and reached for his hat, which hungon a nail especially appropriated to it.
"Yes, mother. I don't want to be late for the store. Saturday is alwaysa busy day."
"It is a long day for you, Harry. You have to stay till nine o'clock inthe evening."
"I am always glad to have Saturday come, for then I can get my money," replied Harry, laughing. "Well, good-by, mother – I'm off."
"What should I do without him?" said Mrs. Gilbert to herself, as Harrydashed out of the yard on the way to Mead's grocery store, where he hadbeen employed for six months.
That would have been a difficult question to answer. Mrs. Gilbert wasthe widow of a sea captain, who had sailed from the port of Boston threeyears before, and never since been heard of.
It was supposed that the vessel was lost with all hands, but how thedisaster occurred, or when, was a mystery that seemed never likely to besolved.
Captain Gilbert had left no property except the small cottage, which wasmortgaged for half its value, and a small sum of money in the savingsbank, which, by this time, was all expended for the necessaries oflife.
Fortunately for the widow, about the time this sum gave out Harryobtained a situation at Mead's grocery store, with a salary of fourdollars a week. This he regularly paid to his mother, and, with thelittle she herself was able to earn, they lived comfortably. It was hardwork for Harry, but he enjoyed it, for he was an active boy, and it wasa source of great satisfaction to him that he was able to help hismother so materially.
He was now fifteen years old, about the average height for a boy of thatage, with a strong frame and a bright, cheerful manner that made him ageneral favorite.
The part of his duty which he liked best was to drive the store wagonfor the delivery of goods to customers. Most boys of his age like todrive a horse, and Harry was no exception to the rule.
When he reached the store Mr. Mead, his employer, said:
"Harness up the horse as soon as you can, Harry. There are some goods tobe carried out."
"All right, sir," answered Harry, cheerfully, and made his way to thestable, which stood in the rear of the store. It was but a few minutesbefore he was loaded up and was on his way.
He had called at several places and left the greater part of the goods, when he found himself in a narrow road, scarcely wider than a lane. Whyit had been made so narrow was unaccountable, for there was certainlyland enough to be had, and that of little value, which could have beenused. It was probably owing to a want of foresight on the part of theroad commissioners.
Just at the narrowest part of the road Harry saw approaching him an openbuggy of rather a pretentious character, driven by a schoolmate, PhilipRoss, the son of Colonel Ross, a wealthy resident of the village.
I have said that Philip was, or rather had been, a schoolmate of Harry. I cannot call him a friend. Philip was of a haughty, arrogant temper. The horse and buggy he drove were his own – that is, they had been givenhim by his father on his last birthday – and he was proud of them, notwithout some reason, for the buggy was a handsome one, and the horse wasspirited and of fine appearance.
As soon as Harry saw Philip approaching, he proceeded to turn his horseto one side of the road.
Philip, however, made no such move, but kept in the middle.
"Isn't he going to turn out?" thought Harry. "How does he expect to getby?"
"Why don't you turn out, Philip?" he called out.
"Turn out yourself!" retorted Philip, haughtily.
"That's what I'm doing," said Harry, rather provoked.
"Then turn out more!" said the young gentleman, arrogantly.
"I have turned out my share," said Harry, stopping his horse. "Do youexpect to keep right on in the middle of the road?"
"I shall if I choose," said Philip, unpleasantly; but he, too, reined uphis horse, so that the two teams stood facing each other.
Harry shrugged his shoulders, and asked, temperately:
"Then how do you expect to get by?"
"I want you to turn out as far as you can," he said authoritatively.
Harry was provoked, and not without reason.
"I have turned out my share, and shan't turn out another inch," he said, firmly. "You must be a fool to expect it."
"Do you mean to call me a fool?" demanded Philip, his eyes flashing.
"You certainly act like one."
"You'd better take care how you talk, you beggar!" exclaimed Philip, furiously.
"I'm no more a beggar than you are, Philip Ross!"
"Well, you are nothing but a working boy, at any rate."
"What if I am?" replied Harry. "I've got just as much right on this roadas you."
"I'm a gentleman," asserted Philip, angrily.
"Well, you don't act like one; you'd better turn out pretty quick, for Iam in a hurry and can't wait."
"Then turn out more."
"I shan't do it," said Harry, with spirit; "and no one but you would beunreasonable enough to ask me to do it."
"Then you'll have to wait," said Philip, settling himself backprovokingly in his seat, and eyeing Harry with a look of disdain.
"Come, don't be obstinate, Philip," urged Harry, impatiently. "I onlyask you to do your share of turning. We have equal rights here, even ifyou were three times the gentleman you pretend to be."
"You are insolent, Harry Gilbert. I don't take orders from such asyou."
"Then you won't turn out?" asked Harry, gathering up his reins.
"Suppose I don't?" retorted Philip, in a provoking tone.
"Then I shall drive on," said Harry, resolutely.
"You wouldn't dare to!"
"Wouldn't I? You'll see. I will count ten, and if at the end of thattime you don't turn out, I will drive on, and make you take theconsequences."
Philip glanced at him doubtfully. Would he really do what he said?
"Pooh! I don't believe it!" he decided. "Anyway, I'm not going to giveway to a working boy. I won't do it."
I am not going to decide the question whether Harry did right or not. Ican only say that he claimed no more than his rights, and was notwithout excuse for the course he adopted.
"One – two – three!" counted Harry, and so on until he had counted ten.
Then, gathering up his reins, he said: "I ask you, Philip, for the lasttime, whether you will turn out?"
"I won't till I get ready."
"Go 'long, Dobbin!" was Harry's sole reply. And his horse was put inmotion.
The natural result followed. The grocery wagon was strongly made, andfitted for rough usage. The buggy was of light structure, built forspeed, and was no match for it. The two carriages locked wheels. That ofthe wagon was unharmed, but the wheel of the buggy came off.
The horse darted forward. Philip was thrown out at the side, aiming anineffectual blow with his whip at Harry, as he found himself going, andlanded in a half stunned condition on the grass at the side.
Harry kept on until his wagon was clear of the wreck of the buggy, andthen halting it, jumped oft to find the extent of Philip's injuries.
The latter's horse, which had by a violent jerk freed himself from theshafts, was galloping up the road.
CHAPTER II
SIGNS OF A TEMPEST
"Are you hurt, Philip?" asked Harry, anxiously, as he bent over theprostrate form of his antagonist.
As he opened his eyes and saw the face of Harry bending over him, allcame back to him, and his animosity revived.
"Get away from me!" he exclaimed furiously, as he staggered to hisfeet.
"I certainly will, if you don't need help," said Harry, glad that Philiphad suffered no harm.
"Where is my horse?" demanded Philip.
"He has run away."
"And it's all your fault!" exclaimed Philip, angrily. "My buggy'sbroken, too, and all because you ran into me, you beggar!"
"I wouldn't allow you to call me names if you hadn't been punishedalready for your unreasonable conduct," said Harry, calmly. "Whateverhas happened you brought upon yourself."
"Catch my horse!" ordered Philip, with the air of a master addressing aservant.
"I've got something else to do," said Harry, coolly, and he sprang intothe store wagon.
"Are you going to drive off and leave me here?" demanded Philip, enraged.
"I must, for my time isn't my own. It belongs to Mr. Mead. I would helpyou otherwise – though you are to blame for what has happened."
"You will suffer for this!" exclaimed the rich man's son, gazing at hisbroken buggy in helpless anger. "You'll have to pay for all the damageyou have done!"
"You can go to law about it, if you want to," said Harry, as he gatheredthe reins into his hands, and he drove off. "I've a good defense."
To Philip's disgust, Harry drove off, leaving him alone with hisdisabled carriage. It was a good time to consider whether he had actedwisely in demanding more than the law or custom allowed him, but Philipwas too angry for cool consideration.
He could not persuade himself that a boy like Harry, the son of a poorwidow, who had to work for his own living, had equal rights withhimself.
In the end he had to go home and bring back his father's hired man totake charge of the wreck. He learned that the frightened horse hadalready found his way to the stable, terrifying the family with fearsthat Philip had been seriously hurt on the way.
Philip gave a garbled account of the affair to his father and mother, and excited the indignation of both, but especially his mother.
"I never heard of such an outrage – never!" exclaimed Mrs. Ross, emphatically. "To think that boy should deliberately run into you andendanger your life – my poor Philip!"
"That's just what he did, mother," said Philip, enjoying the indignationhe had aroused.
Colonel Ross was not quite so thoroughly convinced that his son wasright.
"Did you give Harry half the road?" he inquired.
"I gave him room enough to get by," answered Philip, evasively.
"The law requires that you should give him half the road."
"I hope, Mr. Ross, you don't justify that horrid boy in running into
Philip?" said Mrs. Ross, sharply.
"No, my dear; I consider that he acted very badly. But, in Order to makehim amenable to the law for the damage Philip's team suffered, it mustappear that Philip gave him half the road."
"Then the law ought to be altered," said Mrs. Ross, with more anger thanreason. "I've no doubt that Philip gave him all the room he needed."
"When you were thrown out, did the heartless boy ride on and leave youto your fate?" asked the mother.
"No; he got out and asked me if I was hurt," Philip admitted, reluctantly.
"Much he cared!" said Mrs. Ross, contemptuously.
"I suppose he was afraid he would be put in prison if I was killed," said Philip.
"Yes, that was his motive, undoubtedly. He didn't offer to help you, Isuppose?"
"No; I asked him to, and he wouldn't," answered Philip, glad that hecould blacken poor Harry's character.
"The unfeeling young villain!" ejaculated Mrs. Ross. "He ought to be putin the State's prison!"
"Do you think he can be?" asked Philip, eagerly.
"Of course he can, if your father exerts himself as he ought."
"Nonsense, Lucinda!" said Colonel Ross, who was not a fool. "It was aboyish misunderstanding."
"You may call it that," retorted Mrs. Ross, raising her voice. "I callit a high-handed outrage. The boy ought to be arrested. Are you going todo anything about it, Philander Ross?"
Mrs. Ross generally addressed her husband by his Christian name when shewas angry with him.
"I will tell you what I will do, Lucinda. I will see Mead, and tell himthat a boy who acts in that way is not fit to drive for him."
"That's right, father. Make him discharge Harry. Then he'll have to goto the poorhouse, or beg."
"And a very suitable punishment for him," said Mrs. Ross, approvingly.
"I don't quite like to take the boy's means of living away from him," said Colonel Ross, who was by no means as unfeeling as his wife and son. "That would make his mother suffer, and she has been guilty of nocrime."
"She will uphold him in his iniquity, you may rest assured, Mr. Ross," said his wife, nodding emphatically. "If she had brought up the boy tobe respectful to his superiors this would not have happened."
"He won't be able to pay damages if he loses his place," said Colonel
Ross.
"I don't care. I want him discharged from his situation."
"Well, Lucinda," said her husband, shrugging his shoulders, "you hadbetter undertake the management of the affair. I am very busy, and can'tspare the necessary time."
"I will!" said Mrs. Ross, with alacrity. "I will call on the boy'smother, and also on Mr. Mead."
"Don't be too extreme, Lucinda. Remember, it isn't a hanging matter."
"I am not so sure but it ought to be. My poor child might have brokenhis neck. Oh, it makes my blood run cold when I think that he might belying lifeless before me at this moment."
"Don't say such things, mother," said Philip, nervously, unpleasantlyaffected by the picture his mother had drawn.
"I can't help saying it, for it might have happened."
"Where are you going to first, mother?" asked Philip.
"I will go first and call on Widow Gilbert. I consider her responsible, for if she had brought up the boy better this would never havehappened."
"May I go with you?"
"No; I would rather go alone."
If Philip had only been scarred, or had a wound to show, his motherwould have taken him with her, to make her reproof more effective, but, as he showed no marks of the encounter, she saw no advantage in hispresence.
"You just give it to her, mother," said Philip, in a tone ofsatisfaction.
"I shall know what to say, my son."
"Just frighten her, and make her think we are going to have Harryarrested."
"I shall make her understand that the boy has done a very serious thing, and has made himself amenable to the law."
"That's right, mother. Harry is too airy altogether. He seems to thinkthat I am no better than he is – a common working boy like him!"
Mrs. Ross sailed out of the room, and dressed herself with unusual care, not out of respect for Mrs. Gilbert, but rather with the purpose ofimpressing her with her grandeur.
CHAPTER III
MRS. ROSS MAKES TWO UNSATISFACTORY VISITS
It was very seldom that Mrs. Ross condescended to visit her poorerneighbors, and it was, therefore, not without considerable surprise thatMrs. Gilbert called to the door about eleven o'clock, just as she hadput on the potatoes to boil for dinner – recognized in the visitor on thedoorstep Mrs. Colonel Ross.
"Pray come in, Mrs. Ross. I am glad to see you," said the widow.
"I will come in for five minutes," said Mrs. Ross, carefully gatheringup her skirts, lest they should be soiled as she entered the humblecottage. She need not have been alarmed, for there was not a cleanerhouse in the village.
Mrs. Gilbert brought forward the most comfortable chair in her littlesitting-room, and the visitor seated herself.
"I am come on an unpleasant errand, Mrs. Gilbert," she commenced, frigidly.
"Unpleasant!" repeated the widow, with quick apprehension. "Has anythinghappened to my boy to Harry?"
Improbable as it seemed that in such an event Mrs. Ross should be themessenger of ill tidings, it occurred to Mrs. Gilbert that she had cometo inform her of an accident to Harry.
The visitor's lips curled. What did it matter, she thought, whetheranything happened to him or not?
"Something has happened to my boy!" she said, with emphasis.
"I am very sorry," said the widow, with quick sympathy. "I hope he isnot hurt."
"He might have had his neck broken," said Mrs. Ross; "and by your son," she added, spitefully.
"They haven't been fighting, have they?" asked Mrs. Gilbert, nervously.
"No; but your son deliberately and maliciously, while driving Mr. Mead'sstore wagon, drove into my son's light buggy, damaged it seriously, andmy poor Philip was thrown out. Your son drove off, leaving himinsensible by the roadside."
It will be perceived that Mrs. Ross had somewhat embellished the story, with the intention of producing a greater effect.
"Was Philip much hurt?" asked the widow, anxiously.
"He providentially escaped any serious injury, so far as we know. He mayhave suffered some internal injuries."
"I am sorry to hear that there has been any difficulty," said the widow, regaining her composure when she learned that neither of the two boyswere hurt; "but I cannot accept your account. Harry is quite incapableof deliberately and maliciously running into Philip."
"I regret that you uphold your son in his wickedness," said Mrs. Ross, coldly; "but I am not surprised. I told my husband before I set out thatyou would probably do so."
"Mrs. Ross," said the widow, in a dignified tone, "I have known my boyfor fifteen years, and watched him carefully, and I tell you positivelythat he wouldn't do what you have charged upon him."
"Do you question my statement?" demanded Mrs. Ross, haughtily.
"Did you witness the encounter?"
"No; but my son, who is the soul of truth, told me all thecircumstances."
"Your son was probably angry with Harry, and could not be depended uponto give an impartial statement."
"Slander him as much as you please," said the visitor, angrily. "I haveacquainted you with your son's outrageous conduct, and this is all Iproposed. Of course we shall expect you or your son to pay for thedamage done to the buggy, and he will be fortunate if we do not have himarrested for assault and battery."
Mrs. Gilbert did not look as much terrified as Mrs. Ross expected.
"I am very poor, as you know," she replied; "but if Harry is really toblame for what has happened, I will do all that I can to repair theinjury."
"I am glad to see that you are talking more sensibly."
"Don't misunderstand me," said the widow. "I have not heard Harry'sstatement yet. From what I know of him, I presume that Philip was morein fault than he. Of course, in that case, I shall not feel called uponto pay anything."
"Of course!" sneered Mrs. Ross; "your son will throw all the blame on mypoor boy. Fortunately, we have laws; and it will be the law that mustdecide this matter. It isn't for you to decide whether you will pay ornot."
This was meant as a threat, but Mrs. Gilbert answered, calmly:
"You won't need to invoke the law, if you have a just claim."
Mrs. Ross rose, for there seemed no more to say. She was considerablydisappointed with the result of her mission. She supposed, as a matterof course, that the widow would defend her son; but she had not supposedthat she would receive so calmly her threats of having recourse to thelaw.
Indeed, she had expected that the widow would beg and plead for mercy, and appear panic-stricken. As it was, she felt that she was retiringfrom the contest decidedly worsted. She would not leave without oneparting shot.
"I regret, Mrs. Gilbert," she said, seriously, "that you defend your sonin this high-handed outrage. I had thought better of you. I knew youwere poor, and I sympathized with you. Now I feel obliged to say thatyou will only have yourself to blame for the steps I am about to take."
The widow bowed, but did not gratify Mrs. Ross by inquiring what thosesteps were.
It was very provoking, certainly.
"I shall call on Mr. Mead, and insist on his discharging your son."
Knowing what a serious blow this would be, Mrs. Gilbert did looktroubled for a moment, and her visitor sailed away, with a slightfeeling of satisfaction, in the direction of the grocery store.
Meanwhile Harry, on his return to the store, had reported the accident, and submitted to a close cross-examination on the part of thestorekeeper.
"Do you think I am to blame, Mr. Mead?" asked Harry.
"No; I don't see how you could do otherwise than you did. Young Ross isa disagreeable young puppy; but his family trades with me, and I don'tlike to offend them. Still, I shall not blame you."
It will be seen that Mr. Mead was a just man, though a politic one.
"Thank you, sir," said Harry, relieved.
"I am sorry this has occurred."
"So am I, sir; but if I hadn't done as I did I should have been therenow, for Philip was determined not to budge."
"Well, we must smooth it over as well as we can. I presume that I shallhave a call from Colonel Ross or his wife. I hope it will be thecolonel, for he won't be so unreasonable as his lady."
It so happened that the first person whom Mrs. Ross saw when she enteredthe grocery store was Harry.
Her eyes flashed with resentment as they fell upon the persecutor of herpoor boy, but she would not waste any words upon him.
"Where is Mr. Mead?" she asked.
"I will call him, madam," answered Harry, politely.
Mr. Mead came forward, and Mrs. Ross rehearsed her story, in terms whichthe reader can imagine for himself.
"I think you misapprehend the matter, Mrs. Ross," said the storekeeper, politely. "Your son maintained his position in the middle of the roadand required Harry to do all the turning out. Of course you are awarethat the law will not sustain any one in this."
"Who told you that my son did not turn out?" asked Mrs. Ross, hastily.
"Harry himself."
"And do you credit his story?" demanded Mrs. Ross, with a sneer.
"I have always found him to be a boy of truth."
"I believe he has wilfully deceived you. I believe he ran into my boywith the intention of injuring him," said Mrs. Ross, violently.
Harry was about to speak up, when a young man who was standing by savedhim the trouble.
"I was there, Mr. Mead, and heard the whole," he said, "though neitherof the boys saw me. I was in the piece to the left, behind the hedge. Phil Ross wouldn't turn out a mite, and Harry had to do as he did. WhenPhil was thrown out Harry got down from his team and went to see if hewas hurt."
Mrs. Ross listened, pale with anger.
"I don't believe a word of it!" she said angrily. "That man is in aconspiracy with the Gilbert boy against my poor darling. I demand thatyou discharge Harry Gilbert from your employment!"
"I am sorry to disoblige you, Mrs. Ross, but it would be unjust," said
Mr. Mead.
"Then we shall buy our groceries elsewhere!" said Mrs. Ross, spitefullytossing her head.
"I shall be sorry to lose your custom, but I see no good reason fordischarging Harry."
Angrily Mrs. Ross left the store, a second time mortified at her want ofsuccess.
"I am sorry, Mr. Mead, that you are likely to lose trade on my account," said Harry, with sincere regret.
Mr. Mead smiled.
"If Mrs. Ross leaves me she will have to go five miles for hergroceries," he said quietly. "We shall have them back again beforelong."