"How long are you going to stay in New York?"
"About two weeks. Then I shall go back to Montana and take you with me."
"Thank you. There is nothing I should like better."
Two days later, as the two were walking along Broadway, they met Mr.
Wheeler. The latter instantly recognized his friend from Montana, and scrutinized closely his young companion.
Rodney"s face looked strangely familiar to him, but somehow he could not recollect when or under what circ.u.mstances he had met him. He did not, however, like to give up his intended victim, but had the effrontery to address the man from Montana.
"I hope you are well, Mr. Pettigrew."
"Thank you, I am very well."
"I hope you are enjoying yourself. I should be glad to show you the sights. Have you been to Grants Tomb?"
"Not yet."
"I should like to take you there."
"Thank you, but I have a competent guide."
"Won"t you introduce me to the young gentleman?"
"I don"t require any introduction to you, Mr. Wheeler," said Rodney.
"Where have I met you before?" asked Wheeler abruptly.
"In the cars. I had a box of jewelry with me," answered Rodney significantly.
Louis Wheeler changed color. Now he remembered Rodney, and he was satisfied that he owed to him the coolness with which the Western man had treated him.
"I remember you had," he said spitefully, "but I don"t know how you came by it."
"It isn"t necessary that you should know. I remember I had considerable difficulty in getting it out of your hands."
"Mr. Pettigrew," said Wheeler angrily, "I feel interested in you, and I want to warn you against the boy who is with you. He is a dangerous companion."
"I dare say you are right," said Pettigrew in a quizzical tone. "I shall look after him sharply, and I thank you for your kind and considerate warning. I don"t care to take up any more of your valuable time. Rodney, let us be going."
"It must have been the kid that exposed me," muttered Wheeler, as he watched the two go down the street. "I will get even with him some time.
That man would have been good for a thousand dollars to me if I had not been interfered with."
"You have been warned against me, Mr. Pettigrew," said Rodney, laughing.
"Mr. Wheeler has really been very unkind in interfering with my plans."
"I shan"t borrow any trouble, or lie awake nights thinking about it, Rodney. I don"t care to see or think of that rascal again."
The week pa.s.sed, and the arrangement between Mr. Pettigrew and Rodney continued to their mutual satisfaction. One morning, when Rodney came to the Continental as usual, his new friend said: "I received a letter last evening from my old home in Vermont."
"I hope it contained good news."
"On the contrary it contained bad news. My parents are dead, but I have an old uncle and aunt living. When I left Burton he was comfortably fixed, with a small farm of his own, and two thousand dollars in bank.
Now I hear that he is in trouble. He has lost money, and a knavish neighbor has threatened to foreclose a mortgage on the farm and turn out the old people to die or go to the poorhouse."
"Is the mortgage a large one?"
"It is much less than the value of the farm, but ready money is scarce in the town, and that old Sheldon calculates upon. Now I think of going to Burton to look up the matter."
"You must save your uncle, if you can, Mr. Pettigrew."
"I can and I will. I shall start for Boston this afternoon by the Fall River boat and I want you to go with me."
"I should enjoy the journey, Mr. Pettigrew."
"Then it is settled. Go home and pack your gripsack. You may be gone three or four days."
CHAPTER XXIV.
A CHANGE OF SCENE.
"Now," said Mr. Pettigrew, when they were sitting side by side on the upper deck of the Puritan, the magnificent steamer on the Fall River line. "I want you to consent to a little plan that will mystify my old friends and neighbors."
"What is it, Mr. Pettigrew?"
"I have never written home about my good fortune; so far as they know I am no better off than when I went away."
"I don"t think I could have concealed my success."
"It may seem strange, but I"ll explain--I want to learn who are my friends and who are not. I am afraid I wasn"t very highly thought of when I left Burton. I was considered rather shiftless.
"I was always in for a good time, and never saved a cent. Everybody predicted that I would fail, and I expect most wanted me to fail. There were two or three, including my uncle, aunt and the friend who lent me money, who wished me well.
"I mustn"t forget to mention the old minister who baptized me when I was an infant. The good old man has been preaching thirty or forty years on a salary of four hundred dollars, and has had to run a small farm to make both ends meet. He believed in me and gave me good advice. Outside of these I don"t remember any one who felt an interest in Jefferson Pettigrew."
"You will have the satisfaction of letting them see that they did not do you justice."
"Yes, but I may not tell them--that is none except my true friends. If I did, they would hover round me and want to borrow money, or get me to take them out West with me. So I have hit upon a plan. I shall want to use money, but I will pretend it is yours."
Rodney opened his eyes in surprise.
"I will pa.s.s you off as a rich friend from New York, who feels an interest in me and is willing to help me."
Rodney smiled.