Walter Sherwood's Probation, Jr. Horatio Alger [best pdf reader for ebooks txt] 📗

“Your husband brought some home last night. It is here now.”

This was true, and she was startled to find how much this man knew.

“Do you know my husband?” she asked.

“Yes, I know him. His name is Ephraim Gregory. He had some money paid him yesterday and it is here. I don't know where it is, but you do. Get it, and be quick about it!”

Mrs. Gregory saw by this time that her visitor was a desperate villain and that she was in a critical position. He might, since he knew so much, know the amount of money which her husband had entrusted to her for safekeeping. If she could buy him off for five dollars she would do so.

“Will you go if I give you five dollars?” she asked.

He laughed.

“No, I won't. Why should I take five dollars when you have a hundred here?”

She turned pale. The worst was true, then. This man had in some mysterious manner discovered the exact sum which she had in charge. Why had not her husband kept it in his own possession? It would have been more prudent.

“I can't give you the money,” she said, pale but resolute.

“Oh, yes, you will!” he answered mockingly.

“Go away, please,” she said in a pleading tone. “I have given you a meal, though you had no claim on me. Let that be sufficient.”

“You can't fool me!” he replied roughly. “Bring me the money, or it will be the worse for you.”

“I cannot!” she gasped.

“Then, by Heaven, I'll brain you!”

As he spoke he raised the chair on which he had been sitting and held it in position above his head, ready to bring it down upon the helpless woman.

Then it was that she uttered the piercing scream which brought Walter into the house.

His astonished glance rested on the terrified woman, with her little girl clinging in alarm to her dress, cowering beneath the chair which seemed ready to descend upon her.

Walter did not hesitate a moment. Though the tramp was possessed of twice his strength, he darted forward and grasped him by the arm.

“What are you about?” he demanded sternly.

The tramp turned at the unexpected interference and partially lowered the chair.

“What business is it of yours, you impudent young jackanapes?” he growled.

“I will make it my business,” said Walter, bravely. “I won't see a lady struck down by a ruffian!”

“Take care how you talk. I can twist you round my finger, you manikin!” “What does this man want?” asked Walter, turning to Mrs. Gregory.

“He demands money,” was her answer.

“So he is a thief!” exclaimed Walter, contemptuously.

“I'll fix you for that!” growled the tramp, with a frown.

Walter quickly explored the room in search of a weapon, for he saw that he would have to defend himself.

There was a fireplace in the apartment, and resting beside it was a poker of large size. Walter sprang for this, and, grasping it firmly, brandished it in a threatening manner.

“Go upstairs, madam,” he said, “and lock yourself in. I will attend to this man.”

The tramp burst into a contemptuous laugh.

“Why, you young whippersnapper!” he said, “I could handle half a dozen boys like you.”

“I don't like to leave you in the power of this man,” said Mrs. Gregory. “He will kill you.”

“Right you are, ma'am!”' growled the giant. “That's just what I am going to do.”

The lady turned pale. She was frightened, but her concern for Walter's safety overcame her fear for herself.

“I shall stay here,” she said, “It would be cowardly to leave you.”

“Take my advice, boy,” growled the tramp, “and clear out of here. It is no concern of yours.”

Walter did not answer, but, keen, alert, vigilant, he fixed his eye warily on his formidable opponent.

“Well, youngster,” said the tramp impatiently, “did you hear me?”

“Yes, I heard you.”

“Leave this room, or I'll smash you!”

“Smash away!” retorted Walter.

Though he was barely five feet six inches in height, while the tramp was fully six feet, his muscles had been toughened by exercise in the college gymnasium and by rowing in the college crew, and he was wonderfully quick in his motions.

Feeling that the time for forbearance was over, and irritated beyond measure by Walter's audacity, the tramp prepared to carry out his threat. He raised the chair and with a downward sweep aimed at Walter's head.

Had the blow taken effect, this story would never have been written. But Walter's quick eye foresaw the movement, and, springing aside, he dodged the blow and brought down the poker on the muscular part of the giant's arm with what force he could command. There was a howl of pain, and the tramp's arm hung limp and lifeless at his side, while with the other he clasped it in evident suffering.

“You murderous young villain!” he shrieked. “I'll kill you for that!”

Walter felt that he was in a dangerous position.

“Leave the room, please!” he said to Mrs. Gregory. “You will be in my way.” She obeyed, for her champion had shown himself worthy to command, and Walter sprang to the other side of the table, placing it between him and his foe.

By this time the tramp had got ready for an attack. He dashed round the table after Walter, and finally succeeded, in spite of the boy's activity, in grasping him by the shoulder.

“Ah!” he said, with a deep sigh of content, “I've got you now. I'll pay you for that blow!”

Walter felt that he had never been in such a tight place before.