Luck and Pluck

"Old Oakley left all his property to Jane," continued Mr. Huxter, with a drunken laugh. "Oh, she's a deep one, is Jane! She knows how her bread is buttered."

John turned away in disgust, and tried not to heed what was said.

"But she's hard on her poor brother," whined Mr. Huxter. "She ought to have come down with something handsome."

His mutterings became incoherent, and John ceased to notice them. At length, about seven o'clock, the stage drove into a small village, of not particularly attractive appearance.

"Well," said the driver, turning to John, "you're most home."

"Am I?" asked John.

"Of course you are. Aint you travelling with him?" indicating Mr. Huxter by a gesture.

"Yes; I've come with him on a little business."

"Then you're not going to stay?"

"Oh, no!"

"Lucky for you!"

John didn't inquire why the driver thought it lucky for him. He thought he understood without any explanation.

"Do you go any further?" he asked of the driver.

"To the next town."

"What is the name of this place?"

"Some folks call it Hardscrabble; but the real name is Jackson."

"Where does Mr. Huxter live?"

"Up the road apiece. I go right by the gate. I'll stop and leave you there."

A little less than a mile further the driver reined up his horses.

"Here you are," he said. "Now look sharp, for I'm behind time."

With some difficulty Mr. Huxter, who had now become quite drowsy, was made to understand that he had reached home. With still greater difficulty, he was assisted in safety to the ground, and the stage drove on.

John now for the first time looked about him to see what sort of a place he had reached. He distinguished a two-story house, old-fashioned in appearance, standing a few rods back from the road. It was sadly in need of a fresh coat of paint, as was also the fence which surrounded it. A little distance from the house, at one side, was a small building of one story, liberally supplied with windows, which John afterwards learned to be a shoe-shop. It was Mr. Huxter's place of business, when he saw fit to work, which was by no means regularly. An old cart, a wood-pile, and some barrels littered up the front yard. A field alongside was overgrown with weeds, and everything indicated shiftlessness and neglect.

John had no difficulty in opening the front gate, for it hung upon one hinge, and was never shut. He supported Mr. Huxter to the door and knocked, for there was no bell. The summons was answered by a girl of ten, in a dirty calico dress and dishevelled hair.

"Mother," she screamed, shrilly, as she saw who it was, "here's father come home, and there's somebody with him!"

At this intimation, a woman came from a back room to the door. She looked thin and careworn, as if the life which she led was not a very happy one.

"Mrs. Huxter, I suppose?" asked John.

"Yes," said she.

"Your husband does not feel quite well," said John, expressing in as delicate a manner as possible the fact that something was out of order with Mr. Huxter.

"Who said I wasn't well?" exclaimed Mr. Huxter, in a rough voice. "Never was better in my life. I say, Polly, can't you get us something to eat? I'm most starved."

Mrs. Huxter looked inquiringly at John, whose presence with her husband she did not understand.

"I believe I am to stop here for a day or two," said John, responding to her look. "My name is John Oakley. I am the stepson of Mr. Huxter's sister."

"Oh, yes, I know," said Mrs. Huxter. "I am afraid we can't accommodate you very well, Mr. Oakley, but we'll do our best."

"What's good enough for us is good enough for him," said Mr. Huxter, fiercely. "He's as poor as we are. Sister Jane's got all the money. She's a deep one, is sister Jane."

"I hope you won't be offended at what he says, Mr. Oakley," said Mrs. Huxter, in an apologetic tone. "He don't mean what he says."

"Shut up, Mrs. Huxter!" said her husband, who was disposed to be quarrelsome. "Don't make a fool of yourself, but get supper as soon as you can."

"We haven't got any meat in the house," said Mrs. Huxter, timidly. "You know you only left me a little money."

"Here's some money," said Mr. Huxter, fumbling in his pocket, and producing a five-dollar bill.

Mrs. Huxter took the bill, surprised at its large amount, for she seldom got more than one dollar at a time. Forthwith the girl of ten was sent for some steak at the butcher's, and in a reasonable time supper was declared to be ready. Meanwhile Mr. Huxter had been to the pump, and by the free use of cold water, applied externally, succeeded in getting the better of his intoxication, and was prepared to do full justice to the meal provided.

By the time supper was over, it was half-past eight. John felt fatigued with his long journey, and asked permission to retire. He was shown to an attic chamber, furnished only with a cot bed and a broken chair. But, rude as were the accommodations, John slept soundly, little dreaming the unwelcome news that awaited him on the morrow.

CHAPTER XIV.

MR. HUXTER AT HOME

When John awoke the next morning he found it difficult at first to understand where he was; but recollection soon came to his aid, and he remembered that he was Mr. Huxter's guest. He rose from the cot-bed, and, going to the window, looked out. The prospect was not a very pleasant one. Just across the street was a pasture, with here and there a gnarled and stunted tree. The immediate neighborhood of Mr. Huxter's house has already been described.

"I don't wonder they call it Hardscrabble," thought John. "I shouldn't like to live here."

At this moment Mr. Huxter's head was thrust in through the open door.

"Come, Oakley," said he, "it's time to get up. We don't want any lazy folks here."

"I was tired with my ride yesterday, and overslept myself," said John.

"Well, dress as quick as you can," said Mr. Huxter, turning to descend the stairs.

"I don't see any washbowl," said John, hesitating.

"You can come downstairs and wash, like the rest of us," said Mr. Huxter. "You needn't expect us to lug up water for you."

John did not reply to this rude speech; but he could not avoid being struck by the change in the manner of his host. Mr. Huxter had, when first introduced, treated him with elaborate politeness. Now he treated him with downright rudeness, and as if he possessed some authority over him. John did not understand this, nor did he like it; but as it was only for a few days at the farthest, he resolved not to repay rudeness with rudeness, but to behave with as much respect as circumstances would allow. In the mean time he would ascertain as soon as possible the object of his visit, and so hasten matters as to allow of his return home with as little delay as possible.