CHAPTER XVII.

  IN WHICH PHIL MEETS THE LAST OF THE ROCKWOODS.

  The next day my father was quite sick; but Mrs. Greenough was an angelat his bedside, and I went to my work as usual. I was filled with hopethat the wanderer might yet be reclaimed. Though I longed intenselyto see my mother, I think if I had known she was in the city I shouldnot have sought to find her, for I desired to carry to her the joyfulnews of the salvation of my father. When I could say that he was nolonger a drunkard, I should be glad to meet her with this intelligenceupon my lips. But she was wandering in distant lands. Plenty andluxury surrounded her, while I was struggling to earn my daily bread,and to take care of my father. The fact that she was in affluence wasconsoling to me, and I was the more willing to cling to my father inhis infirmities.

  When I went to work that morning I was introduced to a plane and aplank--to test my ability, I supposed, for the men had not yet finishedshingling the roof. A plank partition was to be put up in order to makea counting-room in one corner of the storehouse. I had never in my lifeseen a plane till I came to St. Louis; but I had carefully observed theinstrument and its uses. Conant told me how to handle it with ease andeffect, and instructed me in setting the iron, so as to make it cutmore or less deeply, according to the work to be done.

  It was hard work, harder than boarding or shingling; but I made itunnecessarily severe for the first hour, and though it was a cool day,the sweat poured off me in big drops. I had not yet got the hang of thething; but when Conant came from the roof for a bundle of shingles,he looked in to see how I succeeded. A little more instruction fromhim put me on the right track, and I worked much easier; in a word,I learned to use the plane. After removing the rough side from theplank, it was a relief to handle the smoothing-plane, and I polishedoff the wood to my own satisfaction and that of my employer.

  In the afternoon I was sent upon the roof again to lay shingles, andwe finished that part of the job before night. At six o'clock all thehands were paid off for their week's work. I felt considerable interestin this performance. I had worked three days, and at the price agreedupon I was entitled to a dollar and a half.

  "I shall not want you any longer, Blair," said Mr. Clinch to the youngfellow of whom Conant had spoken so disparagingly to me. "I owe you sixdollars; here is the amount."

  "You don't want me any longer?" replied Blair, as he took his wages.

  "No."

  "Why not?"

  "You don't suit me. I can't afford to pay you six dollars a week forwhat you do," answered the employer, bluntly. "You don't understand thebusiness, and you don't try to learn it. That boy there does twice asmuch work in a day as you do."

  I did not think it right to hear any more of this conversation, andmoved away. Though I was pleased with the compliment, I was sorry tohave it bestowed upon me at the expense or to the disparagement ofanother. I walked around the building, but I was soon sent for toreceive my wages.

  "Phil, you have done remarkably well," said Mr. Clinch; "and I want touse you well. You handle a plane well for one who never saw one before,and I think you were born to be a carpenter."

  "Thank you, sir," I replied. "You give me all the credit I deserve."

  "And I give you a dollar a day for your work, for you have done twiceas much as I expected of you," he added, handing me three dollars."I supposed you would be in the way at first, and I only took you tooblige Captain Davis."

  "I have done the best I knew how, and shall always do so; but I don'task any more than you agreed to give me. I am entitled to only half ofthis."

  "Yes, you are. I agreed to give you more if you were worth it. Conantsays you have done a man's work most of the time. Of course you can'tdo that on the average. But you will be worth about a dollar a day tome, now that I have discharged Morgan Blair."

  "Thank you, sir; you are very kind."

  "Kind! Nonsense! I am only doing the fair thing by you. When I thinkyou are worth more than a dollar a day, I shall give it to you. On theother hand, I shall discharge you when I don't want you, or when youare lazy or clumsy. I always speak my mind."

  I saw that he did, to Blair as well as to me, and I was very thankfulfor having obtained so good an employer. I was determined to merit hisgood will by doing my duty faithfully to him.

  I went home, and found my father more comfortable than in the morning;but he was still very sick, and unable to leave his bed. In the eveningI went out to purchase a suit of clothes, which I so much needed. Iobtained a complete outfit, which would enable me to attend church thenext day, looking like other young men of my age, in the humbler walksof life. Mrs. Greenough had been very particular in urging me to beprepared for church and Sunday school, and had even offered to lend memoney to purchase the needed articles. I told her I had never been tochurch in my life, and I was very glad of the opportunity.

  When my bundle was ready I turned to leave the store. A young man,whose form and dress looked familiar to me,--though I did not see hisface, for he was looking at the goods in a glass case,--followed meinto the street.

  "Phil," said he; and I recognized the voice of Morgan Blair, the youngman who had been discharged that afternoon by Mr. Clinch.

  I paused to see what he wanted, though I was not very anxious to makehis acquaintance after what I knew of him.

  "What is it?" I asked.

  "I want to see you about a matter that interests me," he added.

  "What is that?"

  "They say you came from way up the Missouri River. Is that so?"

  "That's so."

  "Conant said you did. I want to know something about the country upthere, and I suppose you can tell me."

  "What do you want to know?"

  "I have an uncle up there somewhere, and I want to find him if I can."

  "Do you know in what region he is located?" I inquired.

  "I do not; that is what I want to ascertain. Conant told me you camefrom that country, and I meant to talk with you about it; but you putmy pipe out, and I was discharged to-day. I saw you go into that store,and I thought I would wait for you."

  "What do you mean by putting your pipe out?"

  "Didn't you put my pipe out?"

  "I didn't even know that you smoked."

  "You are rather green, but you have just come from the country. I meantthat you caused me to be discharged."

  "I did?"

  "You heard Clinch say that I did not do half as much work as you did?"

  "Yes; I heard that; but it was not my fault."

  "I didn't do any more than I could help, and you put in all you knewhow. If you hadn't come, Clinch never would have suspected that Iwasn't doing enough for a boy. I don't believe in breaking your backfor six dollars a week. But never mind that now. When can I see you andtalk over this other matter with you?"

  "I can tell you now all I know," I replied.

  "I think I shall go up the Missouri, if I have any chance of finding myuncle."

  "You can't go up this season. No steamers leave so late as this. Whendid you see your uncle?"

  "I never saw him, and I shouldn't know him if I met him to-night. Hehas been up in the woods for twenty years, I believe."

  "What is his name?"

  "Rockwood."

  "Rockwood!" I exclaimed, startled by his answer.

  "Yes; my mother was his sister."

  "What was his other name?"

  "Matthew. He left Illinois before I was born; but my mother heard fromhim about ten years ago. Somebody--I don't know who it was--saw himat a wood-yard, and he sent word by this person that he was alive andwell, but did not think he should ever come back to Illinois. His namewas Matthew Rockwood. Did you ever hear of such a man?"

  "I have, and I knew him well."

  "You don't say so!" replied he, astonished in his turn. "Where is theplace?"

  "On the Missouri, between Bear and Fish Creeks."

  "Well, I don't know any better now than I did before. What was the oldman doing?"

  "He has been
hunting, trapping, and selling wood; but he is not livingnow."

  "Dead--is he?"

  "Yes; he died last spring."

  "You don't say it!"

  "There was some trouble with the Indians in that region, and he wasshot in a skirmish with them."

  "The last of them is gone, then," added Blair.

  "Matt Rockwood had a brother--did he not?"

  "He did have--but he is dead; and my mother died two years ago. And souncle Matt is dead too?"

  "Yes."

  "The man that told my mother about him thought he must be making moneyout there, for he sold a great deal of wood to the steamers. Do youknow anything about it?"

  "I know all about it."

  "You lived near him, then?"

  "I lived with him. To tell the whole story in a few words, I wasbrought up by Matt Rockwood, and I was at his side when he was killedby the Indians. But here is my boarding-house, and I don't care aboutgoing any farther."

  "But I want to know more about my uncle."

  "Come in, then."

  I conducted him up stairs to Mrs. Greenough's kitchen; and, afterascertaining that my father was still very comfortable, I seatedmyself with Morgan Blair.

  "It is a little odd that I should stumble upon you," said he.

  "Rather," I replied; and it seemed to be another of my mishaps, for inhim had appeared an heir to Matt Rockwood's little property, which hadcome into my possession.

  I told him all about his uncle; how he had lived and how he had died.

  "Did he have any property?" asked Blair.

  "Why do you ask?"

  "Why do I ask? Well, that's a good one! My father and mother are bothdead, and I suppose I am the last of the Rockwoods. I am now out ofbusiness, with less than ten dollars in the world; and why do I askwhether my uncle had any property?"

  "He had his farm--a quarter section of land," I added.

  "How much is it worth?"

  "Perhaps it is worth as much as it would cost you to go up there andback."

  "That's hopeful."

  "There were a couple of horses, a lot of hogs, a log house and barn,and the farming tools."

  "Well, what are they worth?"

  "They are worth considerable to a person who wishes to live up there."

  "But I don't wish to live up there."

  "Then they are worth whatever you can sell them for. Kit Cruncher hasthe farm; but I think you will find that squatter sovereignty prevailsup there; and a man in possession, without any claim, is better offthan a man with a title, but not in possession."

  "Then I have no chance, you think?"

  "On the contrary, I know that Kit Cruncher is an honest man, and if youprove your claim, he will either pay you the fair value of the place,or give it up to you."

  "But didn't my uncle have any money?"

  "Yes; he left about nine hundred dollars in gold," I replied.

  "Whew!" exclaimed Blair, opening his eyes.