Robert Coverdale's Struggle; Or, on the Wave of Success Read online

  CHAPTER II

  ROBERT AND MRS. JONES

  "Are you willing to go to the village for me, Robert?" asked his aunt.

  "To be sure I am, aunt," answered the boy promptly. "I hope you don'tdoubt it?"

  "I thought you might be tired, as you were out all the forenoon in theboat."

  "That's sport, Aunt Jane. That doesn't tire me."

  "It would if you were not very strong for a boy."

  "Yes, I am pretty strong," said Robert complacently, extending hismuscular arms. "I can row the boat when the tide is very strong. Whaterrand have you got for me to the village, aunt?"

  "I have been doing a little sewing for Mrs. Jones."

  "You mean the landlord's wife?" questioned Robert.

  "Yes; I don't feel very friendly toward her husband, for it's he thatsells strong drink to my husband and keeps his earnings from me, but Icouldn't refuse work from her when she offered it to me."

  Mrs. Trafton spoke half apologetically, for it had cost her a pang towork for her enemy's family, but Robert took a practical view of thematter.

  "Her money is as good as anybody's," he said. "I don't see why youshouldn't take it. She has enough of our money."

  "That's true, Robert," said his aunt, her doubts removed by her youngnephew's logic.

  "Is the bundle ready. Aunt Jane?"

  "Here it is, Robert," and the fisherman's wife handed him a smallparcel, wrapped in a fragment of newspaper.

  "How much is she to pay for the work?"

  "I hardly know what to ask. I guess twenty-five cents will be aboutright."

  "Very well, Aunt Jane. Any other errands?"

  "If you get the money, Robert, you may stop at the store and buy aquarter of a pound of their cheapest tea. I am afraid it's extravagantin me to buy tea when there's so little coming in, but it cheers me upwhen I get low-spirited and helps me to bear what I have to bear."

  "Of course you must have some tea, Aunt Jane," said Robert quickly."Nobody can charge you with extravagance. Anything more?"

  "You may stop at the baker's and buy a loaf of bread. Thento-morrow--please God--we'll have a good breakfast."

  "All right, aunt!" and Robert began to walk rapidly toward the village,about a mile inland.

  Poor woman! Her idea of a good breakfast was a cup of tea, without milkor sugar, and bread, without butter.

  It had not always been so, but her husband's intemperance had changedher ideas and made her accept thankfully what once she would havedisdained.

  It must be said of Robert that, though he had the hearty appetite of agrowing boy, he never increased his aunt's sorrow by complaining oftheir meager fare, but always preserved a cheerful demeanor in the midstof their privations.

  I have said that the settlement, which was known as Cook's Harbor, was afishing village, but this is not wholly correct. A mile inland was avillage of fair size, which included the houses of several summerresidents from the city, and these were more or less pretentious.

  Several comfortable houses belonged to sea captains who had retired fromactive duties and anchored in the village where they first saw thelight.

  The cabins of the fishermen were nearer the sea, and of these there weresome twenty, but they were not grouped together.

  I have said that the main village was a mile away. Here was the tavern,the grocery store and the shops of the tailor and shoemaker. Here wascentered the social life of Cook's Harbor. Here, unfortunately, thesteps of John Trafton too often tended, for he always brought up at thetavern and seldom came home with a cent in his pocket.

  Robert was no laggard, and it did not take him long to reach thevillage.

  Just in the center stood the tavern, a rambling building of two stories,with an L, which had been added within a few years.

  During the summer there were generally boarders from the city, whoconsidered that the invigorating sea air, with its healthful influences,counterbalanced the rather primitive accommodations and homely fare withwhich they must perforce be content.

  By hook or crook Nahum Jones--or Nick Jones as he was called--hadmanaged to accumulate a snug competence, but much of it was gained byhis profit on liquor.

  He was a thrifty man, whose thrift extended to meanness, and his wifewas thoroughly selfish. They had but one child--a daughter--who badefair to be an old maid.

  Though Robert had made no objection to carry the work to the tavern, hedidn't enjoy his visit in anticipation.

  He disliked both Mr. and Mrs. Jones, but felt that this must notinterfere with his aunt's business.

  He went round to a side door and knocked. The door was opened by thedaughter--Selina Jones.

  "Well, Robert," she said abruptly, "what's wanted?"

  "Is your mother at home?"

  "I suppose she is."

  "Can I see her?"

  "I don't know--I guess she's busy. Won't I do as well?"

  "I would rather see your mother."

  Upon this Selina summoned her mother, not thinking it necessary toinvite our hero into the house.

  "Oh, I see!" said Mrs. Jones as she glanced at the bundle in Robert'shand. "You've brought back the work I gave your aunt."

  "Yes, ma'am."

  "Let me look at it."

  She took the bundle, opened it and ran her eye rapidly over it.

  "It'll do," she said. "Might have been better done, but it'll answer."

  She was about to close the door, as if her business with Robert was atan end, but this did not suit our hero.

  "It will be twenty-five cents," he said in a business-like tone.

  "Were you afraid I would forget to pay you?" asked Mrs. Jones rathersourly.

  "No, ma'am, but I supposed you would like to know how much it wouldbe."

  "Very well; now I know."

  If Robert had been easily abashed he would have dropped the matter thereand suffered her to take her time about paying, but he knew that hisaunt's intended purchasing must be made with ready money and hepersisted.

  "I would like the money now," he said, "for I am going to the store tobuy something."

  "It seems to me you are in a great hurry," said Mrs. Jonesunpleasantly.

  "So would you be, Mrs. Jones," said Robert bluntly, "if you were as pooras my aunt."

  "Folks needn't be poor if they are smart," said the landlord's wife.

  "I suppose you know where my uncle's money goes?" said Robertpointedly.

  Mrs. Jones did know, and, though she had not much of a conscience, shefelt the thrust and it made her uncomfortable and therefore angry. Butit also gave her an idea.

  "Wait a minute," she said and left Robert standing in the doorway.

  When she returned, which was in a short time, her thin lips werewreathed with satisfaction.

  "You can tell your aunt there won't be any money coming to her," shesaid.

  "Why not?" demanded Robert in great surprise.

  "Mr. Jones tells me that your uncle is indebted to him, and he willcredit him with twenty-five cents on account."

  "What does my uncle owe him for?" demanded the boy with flashing eyes.

  "For drink, I suppose," said Mrs. Jones rather reluctantly.

  "For drink!" repeated our hero. "Are you not satisfied with taking allmy uncle's earnings, but you must get my aunt to work her fingers to thebone and then keep back her money in payment for your rum?"

  "Upon my word, Robert Coverdale," said Mrs. Jones sharply, "you are veryimpudent! How dare you speak to me in that way?"

  "How dare you treat my aunt so meanly?" retorted Robert with righteousindignation.

  "I won't stand your impudence--so there! Your aunt needn't expect anymore sewing to do," said the angry landlady.

  "She wouldn't take any more of your work if that is the way you mean topay her."

  "I won't stand here talking with you. I'll get Mr. Jones to give you ahorsewhipping--see if I don't!"

  "He'd better not try it," said Robert with flashing eyes.

  The door was slammed in his face,
and, angry and disappointed, he walkedslowly out of the tavern yard.