Do and Dare — a Brave Boy's Fight for Fortune

The tramp was not long in attacking it, but after a few mouthfuls laid down his knife and fork.

“Where’s the coffee?” he asked.

“I have no warm coffee,” she answered.

“Don’t you drink coffee in the morning?”

“Yes, but breakfast was over two or three hours since. Shall I get you a glass of water?”

“Haven’t you any cider?”

“It seems to me you are particular,” said Mrs. Cole, growing indignant.

“All the same I want some cider,” said the tramp, impudently.

“I have no cider,” answered Mrs. Cole, shortly.

“A pretty farmhouse this is, without cider,” growled the tramp. “You can make me some coffee, then!”

“Who are you to order me round in my own house?” demanded Mrs. Cole, angrily. “One would think you took this for a hotel.”

“I take it for what I please,” said the tramp.

“If my husband were here you wouldn’t dare to talk to me like this!”

It was an unguarded admission, made on the impulse of the moment, and Mrs. Cole felt its imprudence as soon as she had uttered the words, but it was too late to recall them.

“Where is your husband?” asked the tramp, his face lighting up with a gleam of exultation.

“Near by,” answered Mrs. Cole, evasively; but her visitor saw that this was not correct.

“How much money have you in the house?” he demanded, abruptly.

“Money?” gasped the farmer’s wife, turning pale.

“Yes, money! Didn’t I speak plain enough?” asked the tramp, angrily.

“Are you a thief, then?”

“Don’t you dare to call me a thief!” said the tramp, menacingly.

“Then, if you are an honest man, why do you ask that question?”

“Because I am going to borrow what money you have.”

“Borrow!”

“Yes,” said the man, with a grin. “I’ll hand it back when I come around again.”

Under ordinary circumstances there would not have been money enough in the farmhouse to be anxious about, but it so happened that Farmer Cole had sold a yoke of oxen, and the money received, a hundred dollars, was upstairs in a bureau drawer. The thought of this, though she didn’t suppose the tramp to be aware of it, was enough to terrify Mrs. Cole, and she sank back in the chair in a panic. Of course the tramp inferred that there was a considerable sum in the house.

“Come, hurry up!” he said, roughly, “I can’t wait here all day. Where do you keep the money?”

“It is my husband’s,” said Mrs. Cole, terrified out of all prudence.

“All right! I’ll pay it back to him. While you’re about it, you may collect all the spoons, too. I’m going to open a boarding house,” he continued, with a chuckle, “and I shall need them.”

“Oh, heavens! What shall I do?” ejaculated the frightened woman.

CHAPTER X. AN EXCITING SCENE

“You’d better go upstairs and get that money, or I will go up myself,” said the tramp, boldly.

“I will go,” said Mrs. Cole, terrified.

It was at this time that Tom Tripp, looking in at the window, got an idea of the situation, but he was unobserved. The river bank was near, and he ran down to it, hoping, but not expecting, to see some one who could interfere with the impudent robber. We have already seen that he was luckier than he anticipated.

Meanwhile Mrs. Cole went upstairs, not knowing how to save the money from being carried away. She wished heartily that her husband had taken it with him. One hundred dollars, as she well knew, would be a serious loss to her husband, who was only moderately well to do. She thought it possible that the tramp might know how large a sum there was in the house, but could not be sure. She resolved, however, to make an effort to save the larger part of the money. From the wallet she took two five-dollar bills, and then, removing it from the drawer, put it between the beds. She lingered as long as she dared, and then went downstairs with the two bills in her hand.

“Well, have you got the money?” growled the tramp.

“Don’t take it,” she said; “be satisfied with the breakfast I have given you.”

“You’re a fool!” said the tramp, rudely. “How much have you got there?”

“Ten dollars.”

“Ten dollars!” said the tramp, disdainfully. “What do you take me for?”

“It is a large sum of money to me and my husband, sir,” said the poor woman, nervously.

“It isn’t enough for me! You have got more money in the house. Don’t lie to me! You know you have.”

“I am not used to be talked to in that way,” said Mrs. Cole, forgetting her timidity for the moment.

“I can’t help what you are used to; you’d better not trifle with me. Go upstairs and bring down the rest of the money—do you hear?”

“Oh, sir!”

“‘Oh, sir!’” repeated the tramp, impatiently. “I can’t stay here all day. Are you going to do as I tell you?”

“I suppose I must,” said the poor woman.

“That’s sensible. You’ll find out after a while that nothing is to be gained by trying to fool me. I’ll give you just three minutes to find that money and bring it down.”

“You’ll leave the spoons, then?”

“No; I want them, as I’ve already told you. Come, two minutes are passed. I don’t want to kill you, but—”