CHAPTER X.
UNCLE AND NEPHEW.
Paul Nichols looked forward with dismay to the prospect of having hisnephew remain with him as a guest. Like all misers, he had a distrust ofevery one, and the present appearance of his nephew only confirmed theimpressions he still retained of his earlier bad conduct. He had all thewill to turn him out of his house, but Ben was vastly his superior insize and strength, and he did not dare to attempt it.
"He wants to rob, perhaps to murder me," thought Paul, surveying his bignephew with a troubled gaze.
His apprehensions were such that he even meditated offering to pay theintruder's board for a week at the tavern, if he would leave him inpeace by himself. But the reluctance to part with his money finallyprevented such a proposal being made.
In the afternoon the old man stayed around home. He did not dare toleave it lest Ben should take a fancy to search the house, and come uponsome of his secret hoards, for people were right in reporting that hehid his money.
At last evening came. With visible discomposure the old man showed Bento a room.
"You can sleep there," he said, pointing to a cot bed in the corner ofthe room.
"All right, uncle. Good-night!"
"Good-night!" said Paul Nichols.
He went out and closed the door behind him. He not only closed it, butlocked it, having secretly hidden the key in his pocket. He chuckledsoftly to himself as he went downstairs. His nephew was securelydisposed of for the night, being fastened in his chamber. But if heexpected Ben Haley quietly to submit to this incarceration he wasentirely mistaken in that individual. The latter heard the key turn inthe lock, and comprehended at once his uncle's stratagem. Instead ofbeing angry, he was amused.
"So my simple-minded uncle thinks he has drawn my teeth, does he? I'llgive him a scare."
He began to jump up and down on the chamber floor in his heavy boots,which, as the floor was uncarpeted, made a terrible noise. The old manin the room below, just congratulating himself on his cunning move,grew pale as he listened. He supposed his nephew to be in a furiouspassion, and apprehensions of personal violence disturbed him. Still hereflected that he would be unable to get out, and in the morning hecould go for the constable. But he was interrupted by a different noise.Ben had drawn off his boots, and was firing them one after the other atthe door.
The noise became so intolerable, that Paul was compelled to ascend thestairs, trembling with fear.
"What's the matter?" he inquired at the door, in a quavering voice.
"Open the door," returned Ben.
His uncle reluctantly inserted the key in the lock and opening itpresented a pale, scared face in the doorway. His nephew, with his coatstripped off, was sitting on the side of the bed.
"What's the matter?" asked Paul.
"Nothing, only you locked the door by mistake," said Ben, coolly.
"What made you make such a noise?" demanded Paul.
"To call you up. There was no bell in the room, so that was the only wayI had of doing it. What made you lock me in?"
"I didn't think," stammered the old man.
"Just what I supposed. To guard against your making that mistake again,let me have the key."
"I'd rather keep it, if it's the same to you," said Paul, in alarm.
"But it isn't the same to me. You see, Uncle Paul, you are growing oldand forgetful, and might lock me in again. That would not be pleasant,you know, especially if the house should catch fire in the night."
"What!" exclaimed Paul, terror-stricken, half suspecting his nephewcontemplated turning incendiary.
"I don't think it will, mind, but it's best to be prepared, so give methe key."
The old man feebly protested, but ended in giving up the key to hisnephew.
"There, that's all right. Now I'll turn in. Good-night."
"Good-night," responded Paul Nichols, and left the chamber, feeling morealarmed than ever. He was beginning to be more afraid and moredistrustful of his nephew than ever. What if the latter should light onsome of his various hiding places for money? Why, in that very chamberhe had a hundred dollars in gold hidden behind the plastering. Hegroaned in spirit as he thought of it, and determined to tell his nephewthe next morning that he must find another home, as he couldn't andwouldn't consent to his remaining longer.
But when the morning came he found the task a difficult one to enterupon. Finally, after breakfast, which consisted of eggs and toast, BenHaley having ransacked the premises for eggs, which the old man intendedfor the market, Paul said, "Benjamin, you must not be offended, but Ihave lived alone for years, and I cannot invite you to stay longer."
"Where shall I go, uncle?" demanded Ben, taking out his pipe coolly, andlighting it.
"There's a tavern in the village."
"Is there? That won't do me any good."
"You'll be better off there than here. They set a very good table,and----"
"You don't," said Ben, finishing the sentence. "I know that, but then,uncle, I have two reasons for preferring to stay here. The first is,that I may enjoy the society of my only living relation; the second is,that I have not money enough to pay my board at the hotel."
He leaned back, and began to puff leisurely at his pipe, as if thissettled the matter.
"If you have no money, why do you come to me?" demanded Paul, angrily."Do you expect me to support you?"
"You wouldn't turn out your sister's son, would you, Uncle Paul?"
"You must earn your own living. I can't support you in idleness."
"You needn't; I'll work for you. Let me see, I'll do the cooking."
"I don't want you here," said the old man, desperately. "Why do you cometo disturb me, after so many years?"
"I'll go away on one condition," said Ben Haley.
"What's that?"
"Give me, or lend me--I don't care which--a hundred dollars."
"Do you think I'm made of money?" asked Paul, fear and anger strugglingfor the mastery.
"I think you can spare me a hundred dollars."
"Go away! You are a bad man. You were a wild, bad boy, and you are nobetter now."
"Now, Uncle Paul, I think you're rather too hard upon me. Just considerthat I am your nephew. What will people say if you turn me out ofdoors?"
"I don't care what they say. I can't have you here."
"I'm sorry I can't oblige you by going, Uncle Paul, but I've got aheadache this morning, and don't feel like stirring. Let me stay withyou a day or two, and then I may go."
Vain were all the old man's expostulations. His nephew sat obstinatelysmoking, and refused to move.
"Come out to the barn with me while I milk," said Paul, at length, notdaring to leave his nephew by himself.
"Thank you, but I'm well off as I am. I've got a headache, and I'drather stay here."
Milking couldn't longer be deferred. But for the stranger's presence itwould have been attended to two hours earlier. Groaning in spirit, andwith many forebodings, Paul went out to the barn, and in due timereturned with his foaming pails. There sat his nephew in the old place,apparently not having stirred. Possibly he didn't mean mischief afterall, Paul reflected. At any rate, he must leave him again, while hereleased the cows from their stalls, and drove them to pasture. He triedto obtain his nephew's companionship, but in vain.
"I'm not interested in cows, uncle," he said. "I'll be here when youcome back."
With a sigh his uncle left the house, only half reassured. That he hadreason for his distrust was proved by Ben Haley's movements. He lighteda candle, and going down to the cellar, first securing a pickax, struck intothe earthen flooring, and began to work energetically.
"I am sure some of the old man's money is here," he said to himself. "Imust work fast, or he'll catch me at it."
Half an hour later Paul Nichols re-entered the house. He looked for hisnephew, but his seat was vacant. He thought he heard a dull thud in thecellar beneath. He hurried to the staircase, and tottered down. Ben hadcome upon a tin quart-measure part
ly filled with gold coins, and wasstooping over, transferring them to his pocket.
With a hoarse cry like that of an animal deprived of its young, hisuncle sprang upon him, and fastened his claw-like nails in the face ofhis burly nephew.