Bob Burton

All the next day, in consequence of his disappointment, Mr. Wolverton was unusually cross and irritable. He even snapped at his sister, who replied, with spirit:

"Look here, Aaron, you needn't snap at me, for I won't stand it."

"How will you help it?" he sneered.

"By leaving your house, and letting you get another housekeeper. I can earn my own living, without working any harder than I do here, and a better living, too. While I stay here, you've got to treat me decently."

Wolverton began to see that he had made a mistake. Any other housekeeper would cost him more, and he could find none that would be so economical.

"I don't mean anything, Sally," he said; "but I'm worried."

"What worries you?"

"A heavy loss."

"How much?"

"A hundred and fifty dollars."

"How is that?"

"I have lost a receipt, but I can't explain how. A hundred and fifty dollars is a great deal of money, Sally."

"I should say it was. Why can't you tell me about it?"

"Perhaps I will some time."

About two months later, while Bob was superintending the harvesting of the wheat – the staple crop of the Burton ranch – Clip came running up to him in visible excitement.

"Oh, Massa Bob," he exclaimed, "there is a ferry-boat coming down the creek with nobody on it, and it's done got stuck ag'inst a snag. Come quick, and we can take it for our own. Findings is keepings."

Bob lost no time in following Clip's suggestion. He hurried to the creek, and there, a few rods from shore, he discovered the boat stranded in the mud, for it was low tide.

CHAPTER XIV

THE BOAT AND ITS OWNER

The boat was shaped somewhat like the popular representations of Noah's ark. It was probably ninety feet in length by thirty-eight feet in width, and was roofed. Bob recognized it at once as a ferry-boat of the style used at different points on the river, to convey passengers and teams across the river. It was a double-ender, like the much larger ferry-boats that are used on the East River, between New York and Brooklyn.

The creek on which the Burton ranch was located was really large enough for a river, and Bob concluded that this boat had been used at a point higher up.

"I wish I owned that boat, Clip," said Bob.

"What would you do with it, Massa Bob?"

"I'll tell you what I'd do, Clip; I'd go down to St. Louis on it."

"Will you take me with you, Massa Bob?" asked Clip, eagerly.

"I will, if I go, Clip."

"Golly, won't that be fine!" said the delighted Clip. "How long will you stay, Massa Bob?"

Clip supposed Bob intended a pleasure trip, for in his eyes pleasure was the chief end of living. But Bob was more practical and business-like. He had an idea which seemed to him a good one, though as yet he had mentioned it to no one.

"Get out the boat, Clip," he said, "and we'll go aboard. I want to see if the boat will be large enough for my purpose."

Clip laughed in amusement.

"You must think you'self mighty big, Massa Bob," he said, "if you think there isn't room on that boat for you an' me."

"It would certainly be large enough for two passengers like ourselves, Clip," answered Bob, smiling; "for that matter our rowboat is large enough for two boys, but if I go I shall carry a load with me."

Clip was still in the dark, but he was busying himself in unloosing the rowboat, according to Bob's bidding. The two boys jumped in, and a few strokes of the oars carried them to the ferry-boat. Fastening the flat-bottomed boat, the two boys clambered on deck.

Bob found the boat in good condition. It had occurred to him that it had been deserted as old and past service, and allowed to drift down the creek, but an examination showed that in this conjecture he was mistaken. It was sufficiently good to serve for years yet. This discovery was gratifying in one way, but in another it was a disappointment. As a boat of little value, Bob could have taken possession of it, fairly confident that no one would interfere with his claim, but in its present condition it was hardly likely to be without an owner, who would appear sooner or later and put in his claim to it.

"It seems to be a pretty good boat," said Bob.

"Dat's so, Massa Bob."

"It must have slipped its moorings and drifted down the creek during the night. I wish I knew who owned it."

"You an' me own it, Massa Bob. Finding is keeping."

"I am afraid it won't be so in the present case. Probably the owner will appear before long."

"Can't we get off down de river afore he comes, Massa Bob?"

"That wouldn't be honest, Clip."

Clip scratched his head in perplexity. He was not troubled with conscientious scruples, and was not as clear about the rights of property as his young patron. He was accustomed, however, to accept whatever Bob said as correct and final. In fact, he was content to let Bob do his thinking for him.

"What was you goin' to take down de ribber, Massa Bob?" he asked.

"I'll tell you what I was thinking of, Clip. You know we are gathering our crop of grain, and of course it must be sold. Now, traders ask a large commission for taking the wheat to market, and this would be a heavy tax. If I could load it on board this boat, and take it down myself, I should save all that, and I could sell it myself in St. Louis."

"Can I go, too?" asked Clip, anxiously.

"You shall go if I do," answered Bob.

"When will you know?" asked Clip, eagerly.

"When I find out whether I can use this boat. I had thought of building a raft, but that wouldn't do. No raft that I could build would carry our crop to St. Louis. This boat will be just the thing. I think it must have been used for that purpose before. See those large bins on each side. Each would contain from fifty to a hundred bushels of wheat. I only wish I knew the owner. Even if I couldn't buy the boat, I might make a bargain to hire it."

Bob had hardly finished his sentence when he heard a voice hailing him from the bank.

Going to the end of the boat, he looked towards the shore, and saw a tall angular figure, who seemed from his dress and appearance to be a Western Yankee. His figure was tall and angular, his face of the kind usually described as hatchet face, with a long thin nose, and his head was surmounted by a flapping sombrero, soft, broad-brimmed, and shapeless.

"Boat ahoy!" called the stranger.

"Did you wish to speak to us?" asked Bob, politely.

"I reckon I do," answered the stranger. "I want you to take me aboard that boat."

"Is the boat yours?" asked Bob.

"It doesn't belong to anybody else," was the reply.

"Untie the boat, Clip. We'll go back!" ordered Bob.

The two boys dropped into the rowboat, and soon touched the bank.

"If you will get in we'll row you over," said Bob. "When did you lose the boat?"

"It drifted down last night," answered the new acquaintance. "I've been usin' it as a ferry-boat about twenty miles up the creek. Last night I thought it was tied securely, but this morning it was gone."

"I don't see how it could have broken away."

"Like as not some mischievous boy cut the cable," was the answer. "Any way, here it is, and here am I, Ichabod Slocum, the owner."

"Then the boat and its owner are once more united."

"Yes, but that don't take the boat back to where it belongs. It's drifted down here, easy enough; mebbe one of you boys will tell me how it's goin' to drift back."

"There may be some difficulty about that," answered Bob with a smile. "How long have you owned the boat?"

"About two years. I've been usin' her as a ferry-boat between Transfer City and Romeo, and I've made a pretty fair livin' at it."

Bob was familiar with the names of these towns, though he had never been so far up the creek.

"I'm afraid you'll have trouble in getting the boat back," he said. "It will make quite an interruption in your business."

"I don't know as I keer so much about that," said Ichabod Slocum, thoughtfully. "I've been thinkin' for some time about packin' up and goin' farther west. I've got a cousin in Oregon, and I reckon I might like to go out there for a year or two."

"Then, perhaps you might like to dispose of the boat, Mr. Slocum," said Bob, eagerly.

"Well, I might," said Ichabod Slocum, cautiously. "Do you know of anybody around here that wants a boat?"

"I might like it myself," was Bob's reply.

"What on airth does a boy like you want of a ferry-boat?" asked Slocum, in surprise.

"I have a plan in my head," said Bob; "and think it would be useful to me."

"There ain't no call for a ferry-boat here," said Ichabod.

"No; you are right there. I may as well tell you what I am thinking of. Our crop of grain is ready to harvest, and I should like to load it on this boat and carry it down to St. Louis and sell it there myself."

CHAPTER XV

BOB BUYS THE FERRY-BOAT

"Good!" said Mr. Slocum. "I like your pluck. Well, there's the boat. You can have it if you want it – for a fair price, of course."

"What do you call a fair price?" asked Bob.

"I don't mind sayin' that I bought it second-hand myself, and I've got good value out of it. I might sell it for – a hundred and twenty-five dollars."

Bob shook his head.

"That may be cheap," he answered; "but I can't afford to pay so much money."

"You can sell it at St. Louis when you're through usin' it."

"I should have to take my risk of it."

"You seem to be pretty good on a trade, for a boy. I reckon you'll sell it."

"Do you want all the money down. Mr. Slocum?"

"Well, I might wait for half of it, ef I think it's safe. What's your security?"

"We – that is, mother and I – own the ranch bordering on the other side of the creek. The wheat crop we are harvesting will probably amount to fourteen hundred bushels. I understand it is selling for two dollars a bushel or thereabouts." (This was soon after the war, when high prices prevailed for nearly all articles, including farm products.)

"I reckon you're safe, then," said Mr. Slocum. "Now we'll see if we can agree upon a price."

I will not follow Bob and Mr. Slocum in the bargaining that succeeded. The latter was the sharper of the two, but Bob felt obliged to reduce the price as much as possible, in view of the heavy mortgage upon the ranch.

"I shall never breathe easy till that mortgage is paid, mother," he said. "Mr. Wolverton is about the last man I like to owe. His attempt to collect the interest twice shows that he is unscrupulous. Besides, he has a grudge against me, and it would give him pleasure, I feel sure, to injure me."

"I am afraid you are right, Robert," answered his mother. "We must do our best, and Heaven will help us."

Finally Mr. Slocum agreed to accept seventy-five dollars cash down, or eighty dollars, half in cash, and the remainder payable after Bob's river trip was over and the crop disposed of.

"I wouldn't make such terms to any one else," said the boat-owner, "but I've been a boy myself, and I had a hard row to hoe, you bet. You seem like a smart lad, and I'm favorin' you all I can."

"Thank you, Mr. Slocum. I consider your price very fair, and you may depend upon my carrying out my agreement. Now, if you will come up to the house, I will offer you some dinner, and pay you the money."

Ichabod Slocum readily accepted the invitation, and the three went up to the house together.

When Bob told his mother of the bargain he had made, she was somewhat startled. She felt that he did not realize how great an enterprise he had embarked in.

"You forget, Robert, that you are only a boy," she said.

"No, mother, I don't forget it. But I have to take a man's part, now that father is dead."

"St. Louis is a long distance away, and you have no experience in business."

"On the other hand, mother, if we sell here, we must make a great sacrifice – twenty-five cents a bushel at least, and that on fourteen hundred bushels would amount to three hundred and fifty dollars. Now Clip and I can navigate the boat to St. Louis and return for less than quarter of that sum."

"The boy speaks sense, ma'am," said Ichabod Slocum. "He's only a kid, but he's a smart one. He's good at a bargain, too. He made me take fifty dollars less for the boat than I meant to. You can trust him better than a good many men."

"I am glad you have so favorable an opinion of Robert, Mr. Slocum," said Mrs. Burton. "I suppose I must yield to his desire."

"Then I may go, mother?"

"Yes, Robert; you have my consent."

"Then the next thing is to pay Mr. Slocum for his boat."

This matter was speedily arranged.

"I wish, Mr. Slocum," said Bob, "that you were going to St. Louis. I would be very glad to give you free passage."

"Thank you, lad, but I must turn my steps in a different direction."

"Shall I have any difficulty in managing the boat on our course down the river?"

"No, you will drift with the current. It is easy enough to go down stream. The trouble is to get back. But for that, I wouldn't have sold you the boat. At night you tie up anywhere it is convenient, and start again the next morning."

"That seems easy enough. Do you know how far it is to St. Louis, Mr. Slocum?"

"There you have me, lad. I ain't much on reckonin' distances."

"I have heard your father say, Robert, that it is about three hundred miles from here to the city. I don't like to have you go so far from me."

"I've got Clip to take care of me, mother," said Bob, humorously.

"I'll take care of Massa Bob, missis," said Clip, earnestly.

"I suppose I ought to feel satisfied with that assurance," said Mrs. Burton, smiling, "but I have never been accustomed to think of Clip as a guardian."

"I'll guardian, him, missis," promised Clip, amid general laughter.

After dinner, in company with Mr. Slocum, Bob and Clip went on board the ferry-boat, and made a thorough examination of the craft, with special reference to the use for which it was intended.

"You expect to harvest fourteen hundred bushels?" inquired Mr. Slocum.

"Yes; somewhere about that amount."

"Then you may need to make two or three extra bins."

"That will be a simple matter," said Bob.

"The roof over the boat will keep the wheat dry and in good condition. When you get to the city you can sell it all to one party, and superintend the removal yourself. You can hire all the help you need there."

Bob was more and more pleased with his purchase.

"It is just what I wanted," he said, enthusiastically. "The expenses will be almost nothing. We can take a supply of provisions with us, enough to keep us during the trip, and when the business is concluded we can return on some river steamer. We'll have a fine time, Clip."

"Golly! Massa Bob, dat's so."

"You will need to tie the boat," continued Ichabod Slocum, "or it may float off during the night, and that would upset all your plans. Have you a stout rope on the place?"

"I think not. I shall have to buy one at the store, or else cross the river."

"Then you had better attend to that at once. The boat may become dislodged at any moment."

After Mr. Slocum's departure, Bob lost no time in attending to this important matter. He procured a heavy rope, of sufficient strength, and proceeded to secure the boat to a tree on the bank.

"How soon will we start, Massa Bob?" asked Clip, who was anxious for the excursion to commence. He looked upon it somewhat in the light of an extended picnic, and it may be added that Bob also, apart from any consideration of business, anticipated considerable enjoyment from the trip down the river.

"Don't tell anybody what we are going to do with the boat, Clip," said Bob. "It will be a fortnight before we start, and I don't care to have much said about the matter beforehand."

Clip promised implicit obedience, but it was not altogether certain that he would be able to keep strictly to his word, for keeping a secret was not an easy thing for him to do.

Of course it leaked out that Bob had bought a ferry-boat. Among others Mr. Wolverton heard it, but he did not dream of the use to which Bob intended to put it. He spoke of it as a boy's folly, and instanced it as an illustration of the boy's unfitness for the charge of the ranch. It was generally supposed that Bob had bought it on speculation, hoping to make a good profit on the sale, and Bob suffered this idea to remain uncontradicted.

Meanwhile he pushed forward as rapidly as possible the harvest of the wheat, being anxious to get it to market.

When this work was nearly finished Mr. Wolverton thought it time to make a proposal to Mrs. Burton, which, if accepted, would bring him a handsome profit.

CHAPTER XVI

WOLVERTON'S BAFFLED SCHEME

Mrs. Burton was somewhat surprised, one evening, when told that Mr. Wolverton was at the door, and desired to speak with her. Since the time his demand for a second payment of the interest had been met by a production of the receipt, he had kept away from the ranch. It might have been the mortification arising from baffled villainy, or, again, from the knowledge that no advantage could be gained from another interview. At all events, he remained away till the wheat was nearly harvested. Then he called, because he had a purpose to serve.

"Tell Mrs. Burton that I wish to see her on business," he said to the servant who answered his knock.

"You can show Mr. Wolverton in," said the widow.

Directly the guest was ushered into her presence.

"I needn't ask if I see you well, Mrs. Burton," he said, suavely. "Your appearance is a sufficient answer."

"Thank you," answered Mrs. Burton, coldly.

Aaron Wolverton noticed the coldness, but did not abate any of his suavity. He only said to himself: "The time will come when you will feel forced to give me a better reception, my lady!"

"I have called on a little business," he resumed.

"Is it about the interest?" asked the widow.

"No; for the present I waive that. I have been made the victim of a base theft, and it may cost me a hundred and fifty dollars: but I will not speak of that now."

"What other business can you have with me?"

"I have come to make you an offer."

"What!" exclaimed Mrs. Burton, indignantly.

Aaron Wolverton chuckled, thereby showing a row of defective and discolored teeth.

"You misunderstand me," he said. "I come to make you an offer for your wheat crop, which I suppose is nearly all gathered in."

"Yes," answered the widow relieved. "Robert tells me that it will be all harvested within three days."

"Just so. Now, I am willing to save you a great deal of trouble by buying the entire crop at a fair valuation."

"In that case, Mr. Wolverton, you will allow me to send for Robert. He attends to the business of the ranch, and understands much more about it than I do."

"Wait a minute, Mrs. Burton. Robert is no doubt a smart boy, but you give him too much credit."

"I don't think I do. He has shown, since his father's death, a judgment not often found in a boy of his age."

"She is infatuated about that boy!" thought Wolverton. "However, as I have a point to carry, I won't dispute with her."

"You may be right," he said, "but in this matter I venture to think that you and I can make a bargain without any outside help."

"You can, at any rate, state your proposition, Mr. Wolverton."

"Have you any idea as to the amount of your wheat crop?"

"Robert tells me there will be not far from fourteen hundred bushels."

Wolverton's eyes showed his pleasure. If he made the bargain proposed, this would bring him an excellent profit. "Very good!" he said. "It will be a great help to you."

"Yes; I feel that we are fortunate, especially when I consider that the ranch has been carried on by a boy of sixteen."

"Well, Mrs. Burton, I am a man of few words. I will give you a dollar and a half a bushel for your wheat, and this will give you, on the basis of fourteen hundred bushels, twenty-one hundred dollars. You are a very fortunate woman."

"But, Mr. Wolverton, Robert tells me he expects to get at least two dollars a bushel."

It must be remembered that grain was then selling at "war prices."

"I don't know what the boy can be thinking of," said Wolverton, contemptuously. "Two dollars a bushel! Why don't he say five dollars at once?"

"He gained his information from a St. Louis paper."

"My dear madam, the price here and the price in St. Louis are two entirely different matters. You must be aware that it will cost a good deal to transport the wheat to St. Louis."

"Surely it cannot cost fifty cents a bushel?"

"No; but it is a great mistake to suppose that you can get two dollars a bushel in St. Louis."

"I must leave the matter to Robert to decide."

"Excuse my saying that this is very foolish. The boy has not a man's judgment."

"Nevertheless, I must consult him before deciding."

Mrs. Barton spoke so plainly that Wolverton said, sullenly: "Do as you please, Mrs. Burton, but I would like to settle the matter to-night."

Robert was sent for, and, being near the house, entered without delay.

Mr. Wolverton's proposition was made known to him.

"Mr. Wolverton," said Bob, regarding that gentleman with a dislike he did not attempt to conceal, "You would make a very good bargain if we accepted your proposal."

"Not much," answered Wolverton, hastily. "Of course I should make a little something, but I am chiefly influenced in making the offer, by a desire to save your mother trouble."

"You would make seven hundred dollars at least, out of which you would only have to pay for transportation to St. Louis."

"That is a very ridiculous statement!" said Wolverton, sharply.

"Why so? The wheat will fetch two dollars a bushel in the market."

"Some one has been deceiving you."

"Shall I show you the paper in which I saw the quotations?"

"No; it is erroneous. Besides, the expense of carrying the grain to market will be very large."

"It won't be fifty cents a bushel."

"Young man, you are advising your mother against her best interests. Young people are apt to be headstrong. I should not expect to make much money out of the operation."

"Why, then, do you make the offer?"

"I have already told you that I wished to save your mother trouble."

"We are much obliged to you, but we decline your proposal."

"Then," said Wolverton, spitefully, "I shall have to hold you to the terms of the mortgage. I had intended to favor you, but after the tone you have taken with me, I shall not do so."

"To what terms do you refer, Mr. Wolverton?" asked the widow.

"I will tell you. I have the right at the end of six months to call for a payment of half the mortgage – fifteen hundred dollars. That will make, in addition to the interest then due, sixteen hundred and fifty dollars."

"Can this be true?" asked Mrs. Burton, in dismay, turning to Robert.

"It is so specified in the mortgage," answered Wolverton, triumphantly. "You can examine it for yourself. I have only to say, that, had you accepted my offer, I would have been content with, say, one quarter of the sum, knowing that it would be inconvenient for you to pay half."

Bob, as well as his mother, was taken by surprise, but in no way disposed to yield.

"We should be no better off," he said. "We should lose at least five hundred dollars by accepting your offer, and that we cannot afford to do."

"You refuse, then," said Wolverton, angrily.

"Yes."

"Then all I have to say is that you will rue this day," and the agent got up hastily, but upon second thought sat down again.

"How do you expect to get your grain to market?" he asked.

"I shall take it myself."

"What do you mean?"

"I shall store it on a boat I have purchased, and Clip and I will take it to St. Louis."

"You must be crack-brained!" ejaculated Wolverton. "I never heard of a more insane project."

"I hope to disappoint you, Mr. Wolverton. At any rate, my mind is made up."

Wolverton shuffled out of the room, in impotent rage.

"We have made him our enemy, Robert," said his mother, apprehensively.

"He was our enemy before, mother. He evidently wants to ruin us."

As Wolverton went home, one thought was uppermost in his mind. "How could he prevent Bob from making the trip to St. Louis?"