“Are we near Benton?”
“It is the next station.”
“Is that the place to take the stage for Portville?”
“Yes.”
“Can you tell me how far I shall have to ride in the stage?”
“A matter of ten miles or thereabouts.”
“Thank you.”
The conductor passed on, and the boy began to shake the dust from his coat, and, opening his carpetbag, deposited therein a copy of Harper’s Magazine which he had been reading. I may as well introduce him at once to the reader as Walter Conrad, whose previous adventures have been related in “Strong and Steady.” For the benefit of such of my present readers as have not read this volume, I will sketch2 his history in brief.
Walter Conrad, then, not quite a year since, had received, when at boarding school, the unexpected intelligence of his father’s serious illness. On reaching home, he found his parent dead. Subsequently he learned that his father had bought shares to the extent of a hundred thousand dollars in the Great Metropolitan3 Mining Company, and through the failure of this company had probably lost everything. This intelligence had doubtless hastened his death. Walter was, of course, obliged to leave school, and accepted temporarily an invitation from Mr. Jacob Drummond, of Stapleton, a remote kinsman4, to visit him. In extending the invitation Mr. Drummond was under the illusion that Walter was the heir to a large property. On learning the truth, his manner was changed completely, and Walter, finding himself no longer welcome as a guest, proposed to enter Mr. Drummond’s store as a clerk. Being a strong and capable boy, he was readily received on board wages. The board, however, proved to be very poor, and his position was made more disagreeable by Joshua Drummond, three years older than himself, who, finding he could get nothing out of him, took a dislike to him. Walter finally left Mr. Drummond’s employ, and, led by his love of adventure, accepted an offer to travel as a book agent in Ohio. Here he was successful, though he met with one serious adventure, involving him in some danger, but was finally led to abandon the business at the request of Clement5 Shaw, his father’s executor, for the following reason:
The head of the Great Metropolitan Mining Company, through whom his father had been led to invest his entire fortune in it, was a man named James Wall, a specious6 and plausible7 man, through whose mismanagement it was believed it had failed. He was strongly suspected of conspiring8 to make a fortune out of it at the expense of the other stockholders. He had written to Mr. Shaw, offering the sum of two thousand dollars for the thousand shares now held by Walter, an offer which the executor did not feel inclined to accept until he knew that it was made in good faith. He, therefore, wrote to Walter to change his name and go on to Portville, the home of Mr. Wall, and there use all his shrewdness to discover what he could of the position of the mining company, and Mr. Wall’s designs in relation thereto. It may be added that after selling the balance of the estate, Walter was found entitled to five hundred dollars. He had, besides, cleared eighty-seven dollars net profit on his sales as book agent.
Such is Walter’s story, though, for the present, we shall have to call our hero Gilbert Howard--an assumed name, which he had adopted at the executor’s suggestion, lest his real name might excite the suspicions of Mr. Wall and so defeat the purpose of his journey.
Walter had scarcely made his preparations to leave the cars, when the whistle sounded, and the train, gradually slackening its speed, came to a stop.
“Benton!” called the conductor, rapidly, half opening the door.
“I am near my journey’s end,” thought Walter.
Several passengers descended9 from the train and gathered on the platform. Among them, of course, was our hero.
A shabby-looking stage stood just beside the station house. Knowing that it was a ten miles’ journey, and important to get a comfortable seat, Walter passed through the building, and took a seat inside. Several other passengers followed leisurely10 until the carriage was nearly full. While Walter was wondering how soon they would start, a gentleman, accompanied by a boy of about Walter’s age, approached the driver, who was about to take his seat.
“Didn’t you see anything of my carriage, Abner?”
“No, General Wall,” said Abner, respectfully. “I didn’t see it anywhere on the road.”
“That is very strange,” muttered Mr. Wall, discontentedly. “I told Henry to drive over for me. Are you sure you might not have passed without seeing it?”
“I’d have seed it if it had been on the road,” said Abner, with more emphasis than strict adherence11 to grammatical rules.
“I suppose we must ride with you, then,” said Mr. Wall. “Can you give us seats inside?”
The driver came to the door, and, opening it, looked in.
“There’s one seat,” he said. “Your son can ride outside with me.”
John Wall evidently did not fancy this arrangement. The fact was that it was beginning to sprinkle, and, being nicely dressed, he did not want to get wet.
“I want to ride inside,” he said.
“I’d like to accommodate you,” said the driver, “but there’s only room for one.”
“I don’t see why I haven’t as good right to a seat inside as anybody else,” said John, in a grumbling12 tone.
John Wall was rather a stout, freckle-faced boy, dressed with some pretension13 to style, and sporting a pair of kid gloves. He secretly considered himself to be unusually good-looking, and on the strength of his father’s wealth gave himself airs of superiority to which he was not entitled. His manners were decidedly arrogant14 and overbearing, and he was far from being a favorite in Portville, although a great many things, which would not have been excused in another less favored by fortune, were forgiven him on account of his father’s wealth.
“I’d like to stretch the inside of the stage if I could,” said Abner, good-naturedly, “but that ain’t easy.”
“You may sit in my lap, John,” said his father.
“Then I think you will have to make up your mind to sit with Abner.”
“Here is an umbrella for you,” said his father.
Meanwhile John had been peering into the coach and espied17 Walter on the back seat. Accustomed to regard his own convenience as a matter of more importance than that of anybody else, he was led to make a very selfish proposal.
“There’s a boy inside,” he said. “Perhaps he’ll get outside and give me his seat.”
This proposal struck Walter as refreshingly18 cool, but having a sense of what was due to himself, and always having been in the habit of standing19 up for his rights, he did not propose to gratify John.
“Thank you,” said he, dryly; “I’d rather keep my seat.”
“But I don’t want to get wet.”
“Nor I,” said Walter.
“I don’t see why I haven’t as much right to ride inside as he,” grumbled20 John, turning to the driver.
“So you would, and better, too, if you’d got in first,” said Abner, rather disgusted at John’s selfishness. “But I must be starting. So if you’re going along with me, you’d better climb up.”
“I’ll give you twenty-five cents if you’ll give me your seat,” said John, making a last appeal to Walter.
“Thank you,” said Walter, coldly; “I’m not in want of money.”
“Get up without any more fuss, John,” said his father, impatiently.
Very discontentedly John climbed up to the box and took his seat beside the driver. He felt very angry with our hero for declining to sacrifice his own convenience to him. It appeared to him that, as the son of General Wall, the richest man in Portville, he had a right to the best of everything.
“Do you know who that boy is, that wouldn’t give me his seat?” he asked of Abner.
“Never saw him before,” said the driver.
“Is he going to Portville?”
“Yes, so he told me.”
“Do you know where he is going to stop?”
“No, he didn’t tell me.”
“Do you think it’s going to rain much?”
“I reckon it will be a smart sprinkle. You’d better take off them kid gloves of your’n if you don’t want them spoiled.”
“I don’t see why that boy wouldn’t give me his seat. He hasn’t got on as good clothes as I have,” grumbled John.
“Well, if your clothes are spoiled your father’s got money enough to buy you some new ones,” said Abner.
“That’s true,” said John, with an air of importance. “My father’s very rich.”
“I expect you’ll be rich, too, some day,” said Abner.
“I expect I shall,” said John, complacently21. “I’m going to be a lawyer.”
“Oh, I shan’t settle down here,” said John, loftily. “I’m going to Detroit or Chicago. I want to be in a big place.”
“I guess I can do as well as any of the city lawyers,” said John. “I am reading C?sar already.”
“Who’s he?”
“A Latin author.”
“Oh, it ain’t hard when you’re used to it,” said John, condescendingly.
The rain subsided25, and John had the satisfaction of saving his clothes from injury, so that he ended the journey in a more amiable26 frame of mind than could have been anticipated.
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2
sketch
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| n.草图；梗概；素描；v.素描；概述 | |
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3
metropolitan
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| adj.大城市的，大都会的 | |
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kinsman
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| n.男亲属 | |
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clement
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| adj.仁慈的；温和的 | |
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6
specious
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| adj.似是而非的；adv.似是而非地 | |
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7
plausible
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| adj.似真实的，似乎有理的，似乎可信的 | |
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8
conspiring
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| 密谋( conspire的现在分词 )； 搞阴谋； （事件等）巧合； 共同导致 | |
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9
descended
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| a.为...后裔的，出身于...的 | |
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leisurely
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| adj.悠闲的；从容的，慢慢的 | |
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adherence
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| n.信奉，依附，坚持，固着 | |
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grumbling
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| adj. 喃喃鸣不平的, 出怨言的 | |
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pretension
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| n.要求；自命，自称；自负 | |
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arrogant
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| adj.傲慢的，自大的 | |
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15
sullenly
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| 不高兴地，绷着脸，忧郁地 | |
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16
growled
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| v.（动物）发狺狺声， （雷）作隆隆声( growl的过去式和过去分词 )；低声咆哮着说 | |
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17
espied
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| v.看到( espy的过去式和过去分词 ) | |
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refreshingly
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| adv.清爽地，有精神地 | |
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standing
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| n.持续，地位；adj.永久的，不动的，直立的，不流动的 | |
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20
grumbled
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| 抱怨( grumble的过去式和过去分词 )； 发牢骚； 咕哝； 发哼声 | |
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21
complacently
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| adv. 满足地, 自满地, 沾沾自喜地 | |
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22
jocosely
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| adv.说玩笑地，诙谐地 | |
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23
sarcasm
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| n.讥讽，讽刺，嘲弄，反话 （adj.sarcastic） | |
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24
mighty
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| adj.强有力的；巨大的 | |
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25
subsided
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| v.（土地）下陷（因在地下采矿）( subside的过去式和过去分词 )；减弱；下降至较低或正常水平；一下子坐在椅子等上 | |
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amiable
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| adj.和蔼可亲的，友善的，亲切的 | |
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