CHAPTER XXI.
HOW THINGS WENT ON AT HOME.
While Tom was slowly making his way westward, there was one place wheretidings from him were anxiously awaited, and where nightly prayers wereoffered for his health and safe progress. Of course this was the dear,though humble, farmhouse, which had been his home.
Twice a week Tom wrote, and his letters were cheerful and reassuring.
"Don't trouble yourself about me, dear mother"--he wrote from Cincinnati. "I am making friends, and learning how to travel. I feel years older, and rely much more on myself than when, an inexperienced boy, I bade you good-by. I am a thousand miles from you, and the longest and most difficult part of the journey lies before me; but with health and strength, and prudence, I hope to arrive in good condition at my destination. As to health I never felt better in my life, and I have taken lessons in prudence and caution which will be of essential service to me. I have found that a boy who goes out into the world to seek his fortune cannot trust everybody he falls in with. He will find foes as well as friends, and he will need to be on his guard.
"I start to-morrow for St. Joseph, in Missouri, going by way of St. Louis. Mr. Donald Ferguson, a middle-aged Scotchman, is my companion. A younger and livelier companion might prove more agreeable, but perhaps not so safe. Mr. Ferguson is old enough to be my father, and I shall be guided by his judgment where my own is at fault. He is very frugal, as I believe his countrymen generally are, and that, of course, just suits me. I don't know how long I shall be in reaching St. Joseph, but I shall write you once or twice on the way. Give my love to father, Sarah, Walter, and Harry, and keep a great deal for yourself. "Your loving son, "TOM."
"Tom is growing manly, Mary," said Mark Nelson to his wife. "It's doinghim good to see a little of the world."
"I suppose it is, Mark," said his wife; "but the more I think of it themore I feel that he is very young to undertake such a long journeyalone."
"He is young, but it will make a man of him."
"He must be having a tip-top time," said Walter; "I wish I were withhim."
"You would be more of a hindrance than a help to him, Walter," said MarkNelson.
"You are only a child, you know," said Sarah, in an elder-sister tone.
"What do you call yourself?" retorted Walter. "You are only two yearsolder than I am."
"Girls always know more than boys of the same age," said Sarahcondescendingly. "Besides, I haven't said anything about going out toCalifornia."
"No, I should think not. A girl that's afraid of a mouse had better stayat home."
Walter referred to an incident of the day previous, when the suddenappearance of a mouse threw Sarah into a panic.
"Are there any mouses in California?" asked little Harry, with interest.
"If there are I could carry a cat with me," returned Sarahgood-humoredly.
Mark Nelson, though he felt Tom was a boy to be trusted, did ask himselfoccasionally whether he had been wise in permitting him to leave homeunder the circumstances. Suppose he continued in health, there weredoubts of his success. His golden dreams might not be realized. The twohundred dollars which he had raised for Tom might be lost, and bring inno return; and this would prove a serious loss to Mark, hampered as hewas already by a heavy mortgage on his farm. Would Squire Hudson beforbearing, if ill-luck came? This was a question he could not answer.He only knew that such was not the squire's reputation.
"Well, Mr. Nelson, what do you hear from Tom," asked the squire, one dayabout this time. "How far is he on his way?"
"We received a letter from Cincinnati yesterday. He then was aboutstarting for St. Joseph."
"Does he seem to enjoy the journey?"
"He writes in excellent spirits. He says he has met with good friends."
"Indeed! How does his money hold out?"
"He does not speak of that."
"Oh, well, I dare say he is getting along well;" and the squire walkedon.
"Does he feel interested in Tom, or not?" queried Mark Nelson, as helooked thoughtfully after the squire, as he walked on with statelysteps, leaning slightly on his gold-headed cane. He might have beenenlightened on this point, if he could have heard a conversation, laterin the day, between Squire Hudson and his son Sinclair.
"I saw Mark Nelson this morning," he observed at the supper table.
"Has he heard from Tom?"
"Yes; his son wrote him from Cincinnati."
"I wish I could go to Cincinnati," grumbled Sinclair; "I think I have abetter right to see the world than Tom Nelson."
"All in good time, my son. Tom is not traveling for pleasure."
"Still, he is getting the pleasure."
"He will have to work hard when he reaches California. Probably he won'thave a cent left when he gets there."
"What will he do then?"
"He must earn money."
"Do you think he will do well, father?"
"He may, and then again he may not," answered the squire judicially.
"If he don't, how is he going to pay you back the money you lent him?"
"I always thought your father was foolish to lend his money to a boylike that," said Mrs. Hudson querulously.
"Women know nothing about business," said the squire, with an air ofsuperior wisdom.
"Sometimes men don't know much," retorted his wife.
"If you refer to me, Mrs. Hudson," said her husband, "you need have noanxiety. I did not lend the money to the boy, but to his father."
"That isn't much better. Everybody knows that Mark Nelson has all thathe can do to get along. His wife hasn't had a new dress for years."
The squire's face grew hard and stern. He had never loved his wife, andnever forgiven Mrs. Nelson, whom he had loved as much as he was capableof doing, for refusing his hand.
"She has made her bed and she must lie upon it," he said curtly. "Shemight have known that Mark Nelson would never be able to provide forher."
"Perhaps she never had any other offer," said Mrs. Hudson, who wasignorant of a certain passage of her husband's life.
"Probably she did, for she was a very pretty girl."
"Then she's faded," said Mrs. Hudson, tossing her head.
Squire Hudson did not reply; but as his eyes rested on the sharp,querulous face of his helpmate, and he compared it mentally with thepleasant face of Mrs. Nelson, he said to himself that, faded or not, thelatter was still better looking than his wife had been in the days ofher youth. Of course it would not do to say so, for Mrs. Hudson was notamiable.
"Mark Nelson has given me security," said the squire, returning to thepoint under discussion. "I hold a mortgage on his farm for the wholeamount he owes me."
"Do you think you shall have to foreclose, father?" asked Sinclair.
"If Tom does not succeed in California, I probably shall," said thesquire.
"Do you think he will succeed?"
"He may be able to make a living, but I don't think he will be able tohelp his father any."
"Then why did you lend him the money?"
"He wanted to go, and was willing to take the risk. I lent the money asa business operation."
"Suppose Mr. Nelson loses his farm, what will he do?" inquired Sinclair.
"I really don't know," answered the squire, shrugging his shoulders."That is no concern of mine."
"Tom wouldn't put on so many airs if his father had to go to thepoorhouse," said Sinclair.
"Does he put on airs?"
"He seems to think he is as good as I am," said Squire Hudson's heir.
"That is perfectly ridiculous," said Mrs. Hudson. "The boy must be afool."
"He is no fool," said the squire, who did not allow prejudice to carryhi
m so far as his wife and son. "He is a boy of very fair abilities; butI apprehend he will find it harder to make his fortune than heanticipated. However, time will show."
"Most likely he'll come home in rags, and grow up a day-laborer," saidSinclair complacently. "When I'm a rich man I'll give him work. He won'tfeel like putting on airs, then."
"What a good heart Sinclair has!" said Mrs. Hudson admiringly.
Squire Hudson said nothing. Possibly the goodness of his son's heart wasnot so manifest to him.