Dave Porter in the Far North: or, The Pluck of an American Schoolboy. Stratemeyer Edward. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Stratemeyer Edward
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Жанр произведения: Зарубежная классика
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us pay him part and bind the bargain," suggested the senator's son.

      "I'll do it," answered Dave, and gave Shadrach Mellick two dollars.

      "Good enough – thet binds the bargain," said the close-fisted farmer.

      Nat Poole was a sight to behold in a well-worn suit several sizes too big for him, and the boys could not help but laugh when he made his appearance.

      "That's a real swagger suit, Nat!" cried Sam Day. "Won't you give me the address of your tailor?"

      "Nat can't do that," added Ben. "He wants the artist all to himself."

      "Which puts me in mind of a story," broke in Shadow Hamilton. "A countryman went into a clothing store to buy a suit and – "

      "Wow!" came from several of the students in a chorus.

      "That story is a hundred and fifty years old."

      "It's full of moth-holes, Shadow."

      "It isn't – I've only told it about – "

      "Two hundred and eleven times," finished Dave. "Shadow, you really must get a new joke-book to read."

      "Never mind my clothing," grumbled Nat Poole. "I couldn't help it that I fell in the cistern. The farmer had no right to cover it with rotten boards."

      "Yeou had no right to be in the barn," answered Shadrach Mellick, with a grin. "Howsomever, we'll let it pass. I'm satisfied ef yeou air."

      The sleigh was soon ready, and the students bundled in, making themselves as comfortable as possible. Nat Poole's wet clothing was placed in a sack and tied on behind. Then the farmer mounted to the front seat.

      "All ready?" he queried.

      "All ready – let her go!" sang out several of the lads.

      At that moment the dogs began to set up another bark, and then came a call from the darkness.

      "Hi, there, wait a minute!"

      "Who is that?" questioned Dave. "Hullo, if it isn't the stout man!"

      It was Isaac Pludding, true enough. He had been walking rapidly and was nearly out of wind.

      "Whe – where are you going?" he panted, to the farmer.

      "Goin' to take these chaps to Oakdale."

      "That is where I want to go." Isaac Pludding glared at the students. "I don't like to ride with those boys, but I suppose I can stand it. Got room for another passenger? I suppose they told you how the train broke down."

      "They did," answered Shadrach Mellick. "Reckon I can carry one more," he added. "But yeou'll have to pay me. These boys are paying me ten dollars for the trip."

      "How much do you want?" demanded Isaac Pludding.

      "About a dollar, I guess."

      "It's enough, but I'll go you," answered the stout man, and prepared to climb into the big sleigh.

      As soon as Isaac Pludding appeared, Dave held a whispered conversation with Roger and some of the others. Now he turned to Shadrach Mellick.

      "Excuse me, Mr. Mellick, but we don't propose to take another passenger," he said, decidedly. "At least, not this man."

      "No?"

      "No, sir. We hired this sleigh for ourselves alone."

      "And paid part of the money to bind the bargain," added Phil.

      "What! do you mean to say I can't ride if I want to?" cried the stout man, as unreasonable as he had been on the train.

      "You can't ride with us," said Roger.

      "What do you say?" asked Isaac Pludding of the farmer.

      Shadrach Mellick scratched his head.

      "A bargain is a bargain, Mr. Mellick," said Dave, hastily. "We hired this sleigh, and that is all there is to it."

      "That is true, but – er – "

      "Wouldn't you rather earn ten dollars than one or two?" asked Ben. "If that man is to ride we won't."

      "So say we all of us!" came from a number of the others.

      "Then I can't take yeou," said the farmer to Isaac Pludding. "These young fellers come fust."

      "It's an outrage!" cried the stout man. "I'll – I'll have the law on you for it."

      "Guess yeou air a fool," muttered Shadrach Mellick, in disgust. "Git alang there, ye lazy critters!" And with a crack of his whip he sent the double team on their way, leaving Isaac Pludding standing by the gateway, shaking his fist at the vanishing students.

      "He is mad now, if he never was before," observed Phil.

      "I wonder if we'll see any more of him," said Ben.

      "I don't want to see him again," answered Dave.

      The wagon-road to Oakdale did not run near the railroad, so they saw nothing of the train passengers as they moved along. Luckily the snowstorm was letting up, so the ride was not as disagreeable as they had anticipated. In spite of the delay the boys were in excellent spirits, the single exception being Nat Poole, who sat huddled in a seat corner, saying nothing. The boys sang songs, told funny stories, and "cut up" generally, and thus, almost before they knew it, they drew up alongside of the railroad station at Oakdale.

      There was no turnout there to meet them, and from the station master they learned that Jackson Lamond, the Hall driver, had been down with the carryall, but had gone back when he had learned that the train had broken down and would not arrive until morning.

      "Well, it doesn't matter," said Dave. "We've hired our driver to take us to the Hall, anyway."

      "All hands off for a hot soda!" cried Phil, as they rounded the drug-store corner, and the sleigh was stopped and they rushed in to get the refreshment. They treated Shadrach Mellick to two glasses, which put the old farmer in fairly good humor.

      "I don't blame ye for not wanting thet man," said he, after he had heard their story about Isaac Pludding. "Guess he's about as mean as they make 'em."

      "He said he had some cattle deal on in Oakdale," said Dave. "Perhaps you know something about that?"

      "Oh, mebbe I do. There's a city consarn buying cattle up here, now – started last fall. They're tryin' to do old Joe Parker out o' his bus'ness. Mebbe this fat feller is the city company's agent. If he is, old Joe Parker won't want him up here."

      "Where does Joe Parker live?" asked Dave, with interest.

      "We'll pass his house in a minit. There it is – over yonder, by the willer trees."

      "Let me off a minute at that place," went on Dave.

      "That's the talk!" cried Roger, catching Dave's idea. "We'll put a spoke in Pludding's wheel – if he is the rival cattle dealer."

      Arriving at the Parker cottage, Dave and Roger leaped down in the snow and knocked on the door. A heavy-set and rather pleasant-looking man answered their summons.

      "Is this Mr. Joseph Parker?" asked Dave.

      "That's my handle, lad. What can I do for you? Will you come in?"

      "No, Mr. Parker – I haven't time. I wanted to ask you, do you know a Mr. Isaac Pludding?"

      At this question the brow of Joe Parker darkened.

      "I certainly do."

      "He is working for some opposition in the cattle line, isn't he?"

      "Yes, and trying his best to do me out of my little income," was the grumbled-out answer.

      "Well, I thought I might do you a favor," went on Dave, and then told of his meeting with the cattle agent, and of how Pludding was trying to reach Oakdale without delay.

      "Is that possible!" cried Joseph Parker. "If it is, I'll have to get a hustle on me, I'm thinking. I told Farrington I'd let him know about those cattle to-day or to-morrow. I'll go right over and close the deal now – before Pludding gets here. It's Farrington's cattle he is after. I am very much obliged to you."

      "You are welcome,"