Luck and Pluck

"You've no idea how I miss you, old fellow. All the hard parts in Virgil and Xenophon come to me now. I don't enjoy studying half so much now that you are away. If I were you, I'd give old Huxter the slip some fine morning. I only wish you could come and stay at our house. Wouldn't it be jolly? I know father would like it; but I suppose people would talk, and Mrs. Oakley would make a fuss.

"Well, it's time for me to go to studying. Keep up a stiff upper lip, and never say die. Things will be sure to come round. One thing, you must be sure to write to me as soon as you can. Tell me all about how you're getting along with the monstrum horrendum informe. Of course I mean old Huxter."

"Your affectionate friend,

    Sam Selwyn."

John felt much better after reading these letters. He felt that, whatever might be the hardships of his present lot, he had two good friends who sympathized with him. He read over the lawyer's letter once more. Though he didn't expressly advise him to leave Mr. Huxter, it was evident that he expected him to do so. John himself had no doubts on that point. He felt that he would be willing anywhere else to work for his living; but to remain in his present position was insupportable. He could feel neither regard nor respect for Mr. Huxter. He witnessed daily with indignation the manner in which he treated his poor wife, whom he sincerely pitied. But it was not his business to interfere between man and wife. No, he could not stay any longer in such a house. To-morrow morning he would rise early, and, before Mr. Huxter woke, bid a silent farewell to Jackson, and start on his journey to Wilton.

When he reached his boarding-place, it was already four o'clock in the afternoon. Mr. Huxter had come home just drunk enough to be ugly. He had inquired of his wife where John was. She couldn't tell him.

"What business has he to leave the house without permission?" he growled.

"He is old enough for that, surely," said Mrs. Huxter.

"Shut up, Mrs. Huxter! What do you know about it?" said her husband. "The boy needs a good flogging."

"I'm sure he's a very good boy," said Mrs. Huxter. "He is quite a young gentleman."

"He is altogether too much of a young gentleman," said Mr. Huxter. "He puts on too many airs for me."

"You are not just to him, Mr. Huxter."

"How many times, Mrs. Huxter, must I request you to mind your own business?" said her husband, coarsely. "Do you know what I am going to do?"

"What?" asked his wife, with apprehension.

"I'm going to cut a stout stick out in the orchard, and give the young gentleman a lesson when he returns. That's what I'm going to do."

"Oh don't, Mr. Huxter!" implored his wife, clasping his arm.

But Mr. Huxter was in one of his ugly fits, and shaking off his wife's grasp, went out into the orchard, taking out his jack-knife. He returned in a few minutes with a thick stick in his hand, which boded no good to poor John.

Mrs. Huxter turned pale with apprehension, and earnestly hoped John would not return until her husband had forgotten his resolution. But this was not to be. She heard a step upon the threshold, and John entered by the back way. Mr. Huxter tightened the grasp upon his stick, and smiled grimly.

"Where've you been, Oakley?" he demanded, abruptly.

"I have been over to Milbank," said John, quietly, not knowing the intention of the questioner.

"What did you go over to Milbank for?" asked Huxter.

"I didn't know there was any objection to my going," said John.

"What business had you to go without asking my leave?"

"I didn't suppose there was any need of my asking you whether I could go or not."

"You're an impudent young rascal!" exclaimed Mr. Huxter.

"What reason have you for calling me that?" asked John, calmly. He saw that Mr. Huxter had been drinking, and did not wish to get into a dispute with him.

"You needn't think you can put on any of your airs here. I won't stand it!" vociferated Huxter, gradually working himself up into a rage.

"I don't want to put on any airs, Mr. Huxter," said John.

"Do you mean to contradict me?" demanded Huxter, glaring at John.

"You had better go out," said Mrs. Huxter, in a low voice.

"He shan't go out! He shall stay," roared Huxter. "I'll thank you not to interfere, Mrs. Huxter. I'm going to flog the young jackanape."

He seized his stick and made a rush at John. Our hero, knowing he could not cope with him, and besides not wishing to get into a fight in the presence of Mrs. Huxter, dodged the angry man. This made Mr. Huxter, whose blood was now up, all the more eager to get hold of him. John, however, succeeded in eluding him once more. This time, however, Mr. Huxter was unlucky. Mrs. Huxter had been washing, and the tub full of quite warm water had been temporarily placed upon the floor of the kitchen. Mr. Huxter, whose motions were not over-steady, slipped, and, falling backward, sat down in the tub.

He gave a yell of pain, and John, taking advantage of the accident, ran out of the door. But Mr. Huxter was in no condition to follow him. The water was not hot enough to scald him; but it certainly made him feel very uncomfortable.

"The young rascal has killed me," he groaned. "I'm scalded to death, and I suppose you're glad of it, Mrs. Huxter. You put the tub there on purpose."

Mr. Huxter took off his clothes and went to bed, swearing at his poor wife, who he declared was in league with John.

"There's no help for it now," said John to himself. "I must leave this house to-morrow."

CHAPTER XXIII.

IN WHICH JOHN TAKES FRENCH LEAVE

"To-morrow I will leave Jackson," thought John, as he undressed himself, and jumped into bed.

His spirits rose as he made this resolution. It had been very irksome to him to feel that he was under the control of such a man as Mr. Huxter,—a man for whom it was impossible for him to feel either respect or regard. Under any circumstances it would have been disagreeable for him to remain, but off from the studies in which he had taken delight, the time passed heavily; he felt that he had no longer an object in life. But the petty persecutions to which he was subjected made it intolerable, and he was satisfied that the accident which had befallen Mr. Huxter would only make matters worse.

Meanwhile Mr. Huxter, on his bed below, cherished thoughts the reverse of agreeable concerning our hero.

"I'll come up with the young rascal," he muttered. "He'll find it's a bad day's work he's done for himself."

"It wasn't his fault, Mr. Huxter," said his wife, who wanted justice done.

"Why isn't it his fault?" said her husband, looking at her with a frown.

"He didn't know you would slip into the tub."

"And I shouldn't wonder if you put it there, Mrs. Huxter. It was a regular trap."

"I put it there just for a few minutes. I was going to move it."

"Yes, after you had accomplished your object, and got me scalded."

"You ought not to say such things, Mr. Huxter. You know I was innocent of any such intention."

"Oh, of course nobody was to blame! That's always the way. But it isn't much comfort to me."