CHAPTER VI.
ROBERT RAMSAY.
Mrs. Rand was as much amazed as Chester himself at his success as anartist.
"How long were you in making the drawing?" she asked.
"Twenty minutes."
"And you received ten dollars. It doesn't seem possible."
"I wish I could work twenty minutes every week at that rate," laughedChester. "It would pay me better than working for Silas Tripp."
"Perhaps you can get some more work of the same kind?"
"I shall send two more sketches to Mr. Conrad in a day or two. I shalltake pains and do my best."
Two days later Chester sent on the sketches, and then set about tryingto find a job of some kind in the village. He heard of only one.
An elderly farmer, Job Dexter, offered him a dollar a week and board ifhe would work for him. He would have eight cows to milk morning andnight, the care of the barn, and a multitude of "chores" to attend to.
"How much will you give me if I board at home, Mr. Dexter?" askedChester.
"I must have you in the house. I can't have you trapesing home when youought to be at work."
"Then I don't think I can come, Mr. Dexter. A dollar a week wouldn'tpay me."
"A dollar a week and board is good pay for a boy," said the farmer.
"It may be for some boys, but not for me."
Chester reflected that if he worked all day at the farmer's he couldnot do any artistic work, and so would lose much more than he made. Thesketch sold by Mr. Conrad brought him in as much as he would receive inten weeks from Farmer Dexter.
"Wyncombe people don't seem very liberal, mother," said Chester. "Ithought Mr. Tripp pretty close, but Job Dexter beats him."
In the meantime he met Abel Wood carrying groceries to a family in thevillage.
"Have you got a place yet, Chester?" he asked.
"No; but I have a chance of one."
"Where?"
"At Farmer Dexter's."
"Don't you go! I worked for him once."
"How did you like it?"
"It almost killed me. I had to get up at half past four, work tillseven in the evening, and all for a dollar a week and board."
"Was the board good?" inquired Chester, curiously.
"It was the poorest livin' I ever had. Mrs. Dexter don't know muchabout cookin'. We had baked beans for dinner three times a week,because they were cheap, and what was left was put on for breakfast thenext mornin'."
"I like baked beans."
"You wouldn't like them as Mrs. Dexter cooked them, and you wouldn'twant them for six meals a week."
"No, I don't think I should," said Chester, smiling. "How do you getalong with Silas Tripp?"
"He's always scoldin'; he says I am not half as smart as you."
"I am much obliged to Mr. Tripp for his favorable opinion, but hedidn't think enough of me to give me decent pay."
"He's awful mean. He's talkin' of reducin' me to two dollars a week. Hesays business is very poor, and he isn't makin' any money."
"I wish you and I were making half as much as he."
"There's one thing I don't understand, Chester. You ain't workin', yetyou seem to have money."
"How do you know I have?"
"Mr. Tripp says you came into the store three or four days ago andchanged a five-dollar bill."
"Yes; Mr. Tripp seemed anxious to know where I got it."
"You didn't use to have five-dollar bills, Chester, when you were atwork."
"This five-dollar bill dropped down the chimney one fine morning," saidChester, laughing.
"I wish one would drop down my chimney. But I must be gettin' along, orold Tripp will give me hail Columbia when I get back."
About nine o'clock that evening, as Chester was returning from alecture in the church, he was accosted by a rough-looking fellow havingvery much the appearance of a tramp, who seemed somewhat under theinfluence of liquor.
"I say, boss," said the tramp, "can't you give a poor man a quarter tohelp him along?"
"Are you out of work?" asked Chester, staying his step.
"Yes; times is hard and work is scarce. I haven't earned anything for amonth."
"Where do you come from?"
"From Pittsburg," answered the tramp, with some hesitation.
"What do you work at when you are employed?"
"I am a machinist. Is there any chance in that line here?"
"Not in Wyncombe."
"That's what I thought. How about that quarter?"
"I am out of work myself and quarters are scarce with me."
"That's what you all say! There's small show for a good, industriousman."
Chester thought to himself that if the stranger was a good, industriousman he was unfortunate in his appearance.
"I have sympathy for all who are out of work," he said. "Mother and Iare poor. When I did work I only got three dollars a week."
"Where did you work?"
"In Mr. Tripp's store, in the center of the village."
"I know. It's a two-story building, ain't it, with a piazza?"
"Yes."
"Has the old fellow got money?"
"Oh, yes; Silas Tripp is rich."
"So? He didn't pay you much wages, though."
"No; he feels poor. I dare say he feels poorer than I do."
"Such men ought not to have money," growled the tramp. "They're keepin'it out of the hands of honest men. What sort of a lookin' man is thisman Tripp? Is he as big as me?"
"Oh, no, he is a thin, dried-up, little man, who looks as if he hadn'thad a full meal of victuals in his life."
"What time does he shut up shop?"
"About this time," answered Chester, rather puzzled by the tramp'spersistence in asking questions.
"What's your name?"
"Chester Rand."
"Can't you give me a quarter? I'm awful hungry. I ain't had a bit toeat since yesterday."
"I have no money to give you, but if you will come to our house I'llgive you some supper."
"Where do you live?"
"About five minutes' walk."
"Go ahead, then; I'm with you."
Mrs. Rand looked up with surprise when the door opened and Chesterentered, followed by an ill-looking tramp, whose clothes were redolentof tobacco, and his breath of whisky.
"Mother," said Chester, "this man tells me that he hasn't had anythingto eat since yesterday."
"No more I haven't," spoke up the tramp, in a hoarse voice.
"He asked for some money. I could not give him that, but I told him wewould give him some supper."
"Of course we will," said Mrs. Rand, in a tone of sympathy. She did notadmire the appearance of her late visitor, but her heart was alive tothe appeal of a hungry man.
"Sit down, sir," she said, "and I'll make some hot tea, and that withsome bread and butter and cold meat will refresh you."
"Thank you, ma'am, I ain't overpartial to tea, and my doctor tells me Ineed whisky. You don't happen to have any whisky in the house, do you?"
"This is a temperance house," said Chester, "we never keep whisky."
"Well, maybe I can get along with the tea," sighed the tramp, inevident disappointment.
"You look strong and healthy," observed Mrs. Rand.
"I ain't, ma'am. Looks is very deceiving. I've got a weakness here,"and he touched the pit of his stomach, "that calls for strengthenin'drink. But I'll be glad of the victuals."
When the table was spread with an extemporized supper, the unsavoryvisitor sat down, and did full justice to it. He even drank the tea,though he made up a face and called it "slops."
"Where did you come from, sir?" asked Mrs. Rand.
"From Chicago, ma'am."
"Were you at work there? What is your business?"
"I'm a blacksmith, ma'am."
"I thought you were a machinist and came from Pittsburg," interruptedChester, in surprise.
"I came here by way of Pittsburg," answered the tramp, coughing. "I ammachinist, too."
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"His stories don't seem to hang together," thought Chester.
After supper the tramp, who said his name was Robert Ramsay, took outhis pipe and began to smoke. If it had not been a cold evening, Mrs.Rand, who disliked tobacco, would have asked him to smoke out of doors,but as it was she tolerated it.
Both Chester and his mother feared that their unwelcome visitor wouldask to stay all night, and they would not have felt safe with him inthe house, but about a quarter past ten he got up and said he must bemoving.
"Good-night, and good luck to you!" said Chester.
"Same to you!" returned the tramp.
"I wonder where he's going," thought Chester.
But when the next morning came he heard news that answered thisquestion.