Timothy Crump's Ward: A Story of American Life, Jr. Horatio Alger [best free ereader .txt] 📗
- Author: Jr. Horatio Alger
Book online «Timothy Crump's Ward: A Story of American Life, Jr. Horatio Alger [best free ereader .txt] 📗». Author Jr. Horatio Alger
A horrible suspicion flashed across his mind. “The wretches can't mean to starve me, can they?” he asked himself, while, despite his constitutional courage, he could not help shuddering at the idea.
He was unexpectedly answered by the sliding of a little door in the wall, and the appearance of the old man whose interview with Peg has been referred to.
“Are you getting hungry, my dear sir?” he inquired, with a disagreeable smile upon his features.
“Why am I confined here?” demanded Jack, in a tone of irritation.
“Why are you confined?” repeated his interlocutor. “Really, one would think you did not find your quarters comfortable.”
“I am so far from finding them comfortable that I insist upon leaving them immediately,” returned Jack.
“Then all you have got to do is to walk through that door.
“It is locked; I can't open it.”
“Can't open it!” repeated the old man, with another disagreeable leer; “perhaps, then, it will be well for you to wait till you are strong enough.”
Irritated by this reply, Jack threw himself spitefully against the door, but to no purpose.
The old man laughed in a cracked, wheezing way.
“Good fellow!” said he, encouragingly, “try it again! Won't you try it again? Better luck next time.”
Jack throw himself sullenly into a chair.
“Where is the woman that brought me here?” he asked.
“Peg? Oh, she couldn't stay. She had important business to transact, my young friend, and so she has gone; but don't feel anxious. She commended you to our particular attention, and you will be just as well treated as if she were here.”
This assurance was not very well calculated to comfort Jack.
“How long are you going to keep me cooped up here?” he asked, desperately, wishing to learn the worst at once.
“Really, my young friend, I couldn't say. We are very hospitable, very. We always like to have our friends with us as long as possible.”
Jack groaned internally at the prospect before him.
“One question more,” he said, “will you tell me if my sister Ida is in this house?”
“Your sister Ida!” repeated the old man, surprised in his turn.
“Yes,” said Jack; believing, his astonishment feigned. “You needn't pretend that you don't know anything about her. I know that she is in your hands.”
“Then if you know so much,” said the other, shrugging his shoulders, “there is no need of asking.”
Jack was about to press the question, but the old man, anticipating him, pointed to a plate of food which he pushed in upon a shelf, just in front of the sliding door, and said: “Here's some supper for you. When you get ready to go to bed you can lie down on the sofa. Sorry we didn't know of your coming, or we would have got our best bed-chamber ready for you. Good-night, and pleasant dreams!”
Smiling disagreeably he slid to the door, bolted it, and disappeared, leaving Jack more depressed, if possible, than before.
CHAPTER XX. JACK IN CONFINEMENT.
THE anxiety of Mr. Abel Crump's family, when Jack failed to return at night, can be imagined. They feared that he had fallen among unscrupulous persons, of whom there is no lack in every large city, and that some ill had come to him. The baker instituted immediate inquiries, but was unsuccessful in obtaining any trace of his nephew. He resolved to delay as long as possible communicating the sad intelligence to his brother Timothy, who he knew would be quite (sic) overwhelwed by this double blow.
In the mean time, let us see how Jack enjoyed himself. We will look in upon him after he has been confined four days. To a youth as active as himself, nothing could be more wearisome. It did not add to his cheerfulness to reflect that Ida was in the power of the one who had brought upon him his imprisonment, while he was absolutely unable to help her. He did not lack for food. This was brought him three times a day. His meals, in fact, were all he had to look forward to, to break the monotony of his confinement. The books upon the table were not of a kind likely to interest him, though he had tried to find entertainment in them.
Four days he had lived, or rather vegetated in this way. His spirit chafed against the confinement.
“I believe,” thought he, “I would sooner die than be imprisoned for a long term. Yet,” and here he sighed, “who knows what may be the length of my present confinement? They will be sure to find some excuse for retaining me.”
While he was indulging in these uncomfortable reflections, suddenly the little door in the wall, previously referred to, slid open, and revealed the old man who had first supplied him with food. To explain the motive of his present visit, it will be remembered that he was under a misapprehension in regard to the cause of Jack's confinement. He naturally supposed that our hero was acquainted with the unlawful practises of the gang of coiners with which he was connected.
The old man, whose name was Foley, had been favorably impressed by the bold bearing of Jack, and the idea had occurred to him that he might be able to win him as an accomplice. He judged, that if once induced to join them, he would prove eminently useful. Another motive which led him to favor this project was, that it would be very embarrassing to be compelled to keep Jack in perpetual custody, as well as involve a considerable expense.
Jack was somewhat surprised at the old man's visit.
“How long are you going to keep me cooped up here?” he inquired, impatiently.
“Don't you find your quarters comfortable?” asked Foley.
“As comfortable as any prison, I suppose.”
“My young friend, don't talk of imprisonment. You make me shudder. You must banish all thoughts of such a disagreeable subject.”
“I wish I could,” groaned poor Jack.
“Consider yourself as my guest, whom I delight to entertain.”
“But, I don't like the entertainment.”
“The more the pity.”
“How long is this going to last? Even a prisoner knows the term of his imprisonment.”
“My young friend,” said Foley, “I do not desire to control your inclinations. I am
Comments (0)