Homer Greene

“ Again the whip descended lightly on Old Charlie’s back; but the horse did not move. This, too, was new treatment, which he did not seem in the least to understand.
By this time Captain Bill was very angry. He seized the tiller, and swept it back till the stern of the boat touched the bank. “Whip that hoss!” he cried, leaping to the tow-path, “or I’ll whip you!”
For an instant Joe stood irresolute; then, with sudden determination, he passed the handle of the whip to the angry man who faced him.
“I won’t,” he said slowly, with set teeth; “I won’t whip Old Charlie. I’ll die first!” ”

“ Gaston, drawing the child to her, sat on the stair-landing and said nothing; but sorrow and sympathy, struggling for the mastery in her heart, sent the bitter tears afresh to her eyes.
Over the face of Joe’s father came a look that had not been there before.
“I shall not follow him, Mother,” he said. “He may have the horse, but he must not come back here until he comes [36] in sackcloth and ashes. I am sorry that I have lived to see the day when a son of mine has come to be little better than a common thief.” ”

“ He no longer paid heed to the beauty of the day, the splendor of the sun, or the rich luxuriance of the early autumn foliage. He was looking only into his own heart. He was thinking only of his inexcusable folly and wickedness in leaving so good a home. He was wondering what his father would say to him; how his mother would receive him; whether his little sister would ever again care to play with him as of old. ”

“ The rain fell harder than ever; the [65] wind blew in fierce gusts; the tow-path was muddy beyond description. It was a day on which neither man nor beast should have labored except under shelter.
Joe walked as much as possible at Old Charlie’s head, urging him gently at times, putting his arm caressingly over the beast’s drooping neck, or twining his hand in the long, wet mane.
He talked to the horse, too, in the old familiar way; telling him of his troubles, pitying him for his own hard lot, sympathizing with him, until he fancied that tears stood in the horse’s eyes. ”

“ As he ate, the captain’s hoarse voice was heard from the tow-path: “Blixey!”
“What is it, boss?” asked the negro, stumbling up the cabin stairs.
“Send that young rascal out here!”
The negro crawled back part of the way down the stairs. There was a certain compassion in his voice as he said,—
“You’ll hef to go, honey, an’ right smart, too. I know him.”
So Joe went, and took up again in the blackness of night his dreary, cruel task on the tow-path. He thought it would never end; that the sun would soon rise at his back, and that he should be kept right on at his work through another day. ”

“ There’s no easy way to learn the lesson he must learn. If I could save him from the suffering that his folly is sure to bring on him, and at the same time feel sure that he has really repented and is bound to do better, I would go to the end of the earth to find him. But we’ll talk about that later. There’s no doubt now that Joe’s gone. Let us see if we can find out anything about the horse. ”

“ He had made no effort to find the horse. There was no doubt in his mind that Joe had taken him; but he did not care to bring the boy into deeper disgrace by making public search.
Mr. Gaston sometimes wondered if he had taken the right course with Joe. His theory had been that the more strictly a boy was held to his work and duty as a boy, the more earnestly would he follow both as a man. ”

“ Jones went with him to the office, and calling the superintendent aside, said,—
“This boy is no thief. He is honest and right in what he has done.”
“We shall soon find out about it,” was the reply. “Here comes Rosencamp.”
Captain Bill rode up to the office door, dismounted, and tied his horse. To the group of men and boys who quickly surrounded him he told, with many threats and much rough language, the story of his night ride, and denounced the wickedness of Joe.
“Ef I once git my hands on ’im,” he muttered, “he’ll never want to see another hoss agin as long as he lives!” ”

“ The odor of it all was very pleasant to Joe as he climbed down the steep cabin stairs, and he did not wait long after being told to help himself.
“I’ve hired this boy for the trip,” the man explained to his cook. “What’s your name, young feller, anyhow?” he continued, turning to the boy.
“Joe.”
“What else?”
“That’s all,—for the present, anyway.”
“Oh, I see! Run away, did ye? Well, I won’t be so partic’ler. My name’s Rosencamp,—Bill Rosencamp. Cap’n Bill, for short. An’ this gentleman’s name,” turning to the negro, “is Blixey. He’s like you; he’s only got one name ”

“ Joe.
She read the note, handed it to her husband, and, sinking into a chair, burst into tears.
When Mr. Gaston had read it he went to the open window and stood for many minutes, looking away, thoughtfully and sternly, to the distant hills.
“Father,” sobbed his wife, “you will go after Joe, won’t you? You’ll find him, and bring him back, won’t you?”
It seemed to her a long time before he answered her.
“I believe,” he said at last, “that when a boy runs away from a good home, it is better, as a rule, to let him go, and find out his mistake; he’s sure to find it out in a very short time. ”

“ Joe’s chastisement followed. It was a severe one. The pain was greater than Joe had expected. The shock of the first blow was still fresh when the second one came, and this was followed up by half-a-dozen more in rapid succession.
“Now,” said the father, when it was over, throwing the whip aside, “you may go back to the cornfield and go to work.”
Without a word, and indeed with mind and heart too full for utterance, the boy shouldered his hoe and started back up the hill. Mr. Gaston, taking a path which skirted the field, walked slowly toward home. ”

“ Meantime there had been, after a long delay, a movement in the community to look a little more deeply into the matter of the disappearance of Joe and the horse. Squire Bidwell, who happened to be at once the local justice of the peace and a good friend of Joe Gaston, found it hard to believe that the boy who had been an apt and receptive pupil in his Sunday school had proved to be a common thief. ”

“ Here the thief cut a sharp little stick from a tree, and urging Old Charlie to a rapid gait, galloped on ten miles or more, until daylight had fully broken. Then he took refuge once more in the woods, and breakfasted out of a little bag of plunder which he had brought from the Gaston farm.
[23]
“A good start, Callipers, me boy,” he said to himself. “You mind your bloomin’ eye an’ you’re all right. It don’t do to lose your ’ead an’ go too fast, or go too fast an’ lose your ’ead.” ”

“ The superintendent, who seemed to perceive that this was not an ordinary case of horse-stealing, now looked more closely at Joe, and noticed the boy’s haggard, hungry look.
“He won’t hurt you,” he said. “Rosencamp’s a rough fellow, but he won’t hurt any one around here; and if it turns out that the horse is yours or your father’s, you will get possession of him, of course. ”

“ Joe’s voice gave out. Every one cried a little. Even Squire Bidwell and the deputy sheriff and Callipers had tears in their eyes. Mr. Gaston’s face, even with the tear-marks on it, was radiant.
Soon the squire and the deputy sheriff, with their prisoner, Callipers, drove off toward the county seat. Then the whole Gaston family went with Old Charlie to the stable, and gave him his supper and his bed before seeking their own. ”

“ It was Joe with Old Charlie.
[75]
Both boy and horse were splashed with mud, and bore evidence of having come far and fast through the night.
The operator stepped quickly out upon the tow-path, and threw up his hand, with the telegram still fluttering in it.
“Stop!” he shouted. “Hold up, there!”
Joe reined in Old Charlie, and the young man seized the improvised bridle.
“Where are you going with this horse?” he asked.
“Home,” replied Joe, promptly.
“Isn’t this Bill Rosencamp’s horse?”
“No, sir,” said the boy, stoutly; “he isn’t. He’s my father’s horse! ”

“ Have you had any breakfast?”
“No, sir,” replied Joe, “I haven’t had any, nor Old Charlie either.”
The superintendent smiled. “Matthew,” he said, “tell the stable-man to take this horse up to the barn and feed him and rub him down. And you,” turning to the boy, who was not a little bewildered by the invitation, “come with me.” ”

“ First along she purty near cried ’er eyes out over ye. She went around makin’ out’t ye never stole that hoss; said ye’d be back in a day or two an’ clear it all up. But she’s give ye up now. They don’t none on ’em ever expect to see ye agin; an’ w’at’s more, I guess they don’t none on ’em want to. What ye think o’ that? Hey?”
[89]
Again the old man smiled grimly at Joe, and again Joe left his question unanswered. He was struggling now with a great lump in his throat that was growing larger and more uncontrollable each moment.
“What—what does my little sister—what does Jennie think?” ”

“ Dolliver lets his Jim take his horse and go riding whenever he feels like it; but I aint allowed to go anywhere, nor do anything that other boys do!”
Joe paused, breathless and in much excitement.
[9]
Mr. Gaston said, “It’s your duty to obey your parents, no matter if they can’t give you all the pleasures that some other boys have. You are not yet old enough to set up your judgment against ours. We must govern you as we think best.”
Again there was a minute’s silence. Then the father said, “Joseph, I had intended to whip you ”

“ Presently it was found that a farmer in an adjoining town had, on the evening of the day after Joe’s disappearance, while driving a cow from pasture, [96] seen a rough-looking man ride a gray horse out of a wood-lot, and had found the place where the man and the horse had apparently passed several hours, and eaten a meal or two.
This clew was followed up. Still farther on other traces of the real thief were found. He had now passed quite beyond any jurisdiction of Squire Bidwell, but the authorities were notified of what had been learned, and were on the alert. ”

“ W’y, w’en they see each other on the canal, they was that tickled they rubbed noses an’ cried,—both of ’em.”
“Papa,” exclaimed Jennie, “that was Joe! I know it was! It was Joe and Old Charlie!”
“To tell the truth,” said Callipers, “the lad didn’t look just to say swell. ’Is clothes, if I must remark on ’em, seemed to be summat the worse for wear. His jacket an’ trousers was jest about so-so. ’Is shoes ’ad give out in places too numerous to mention. An’ there was ’ardly enough left of the ’at ’e ’ad on to make it proper to speak of it.”
“Father,” exclaimed Mrs. Gaston, “we must get him at once. ”

“ But when Port Jackson was reached, at ten o’clock, the boat was tied up for the night. The horses were put under shelter in a stable near by, and fed. Then the two men and the boy went down into the cabin of the boat to go to bed.
Under the stern-deck there were two bunks, and no more. These were occupied [59] by the two men, so that Joe must sleep on the cabin floor.
He was given an old quilt, and an overcoat for a pillow. Removing part of his wet clothing, he rolled himself in the quilt and tried to sleep; but sleep would not come to him. ”

“ It is here that the bulky canal-boats, having discharged their cargoes of coal, turn their bows again to the westward. From the low-lying lands at the river’s edge the mouth of Rondout Creek curves back into the hills, forming for miles a safe, broad harbor.
On the northerly shore of the creek is the wharf. On the left side of this wharf long lines of canal-boats are tied to the wharf posts, and fastened one to another. On the right, canal stores, blacksmith’s shops, and stables extend as far as the eye can reach. ”

“ Gaston, I wouldn’t,” said the squire, who had now found his tongue,—“not for anything. What I’m telling you is truth, every word of it. Joe didn’t take that horse. He didn’t know any more about the taking of that horse than you did,—not a bit. But we’ve run down the man who did it, from one clew to another, and the deputy sheriff’s got him in a wagon out here in the road in front of the house now. Will you go out and see him? I guess maybe he can tell you something about Joe. He seems inclined [99] to make a clean breast of it. ”

“ Mr. Gaston went to the door and called the hired man.
“Ralph,” he said, “don’t say anything for the present about this. We think some mistake has been made. But you may just make a quiet search for the horse around the farm and the neighborhood, and let me know if you find any trace of him.
“Now,” he continued, turning back into the house, “we will search for evidence. Let us go first to Joe’s room and see what we can find there.”
Together the father and mother mounted the stairs to the little east room, and looked about. ”

“ Gaston, abruptly.
“Yes, sir. I will proceed with my tale. You see I was jest about to enter the stable door that mornin’ w’en that young feller appeared a-comin’ down the path, and as ’e appeared I disappeared be’ind the corner o’ the barn. He went in w’ere the ’oss was, an’ talked some sort o’ rubbish to ’im about ’is goin’ away an’ all that, you know. I couldn’t quite make out the drift of it. But ’e bid good-by to the ’oss, an’ went out a-wipin’ of ’is eyes, an’ struck into the road ’ere, an’ walked away in that direction.” ”

“ In the mean time, back at the farm the cattle had begun to stir about in the barnyard with the lifting of the night shadows. It was broad daylight before the hired man went up through the gate with two gleaming tin pails in his hands. Smoke rose from the chimney of the farmhouse kitchen ”

“ A TALE OF THE TOW-PATH.
CHAPTER I.
THE RESULT OF A WHIPPING.
Hoeing corn is not very hard work for one who is accustomed to it, but the circumstances of the hoeing may make the task an exceedingly laborious one. They did so in Joe Gaston’s case. Joe Gaston thought he had never in his life before been put to such hard and disagreeable work. ”