"How would you like to work for the hotel regularly?"
"I'd like it first-rate if it paid."
"I can
guarantee you regular work so long as the summer season
lasts."
"And what would it pay?"
"At least a dollar a day, and your board."
"Then I'll accept and with thanks for your kindness."
"When can you come?"
"I'm here already."
"That means that you can stay from now on?"
"Yes, sir."
"I don't suppose you want the job of hauling somebody from the
lake every day," said Andrew Mallison, with a smile.
"Not unless I was dressed for it, Mr. Mallison. Still, it has
been the means of getting me a good position."
"I shall feel safe in sending out parties with you for I know you
will do your best to keep them from harm."
"I'll certainly do that, I can promise you."
"To-morrow you can take out two old ladies who wish to be rowed
around the whole lake and shown every point of interest. Of
course you know all the points."
"Yes, sir, I know every foot of ground around the lake, and I
know the mountains, too."
"Then there will be no difficulty in keeping you busy. I am glad
to take you on. I am short one man--or will be by to-night. I
am going to let Sam Cullum go, for he drinks too much."
"Well, you won't have any trouble with me on that score."
"Don't you drink?"
"Not a drop, sir."
"I am glad to hear it, and it is to your credit," concluded the
hotel proprietor.
CHAPTER VII.
BLOWS AND KIND DEEDS.
Several days passed and Joe went out half a dozen times on the
lake with parties from the hotel. All whom he served were
pleased with him and treated him so
nicely that, for the time
being, his past troubles were forgotten.
At the
beginning of the week Ned Talmadge came to see him.
"I am going away to join the folks out West," said Ned.
"I hope you will have a good time," answered our hero.
"Oh, I'm sure to have that, Joe. By the way, you are
nicelysettled here, it would seem."
"Yes, and I am
thankful for it."
"Mr. Mallison is a fine man to work for, so I have been told.
You had better stick to him."
"I shall--as long as the work holds out."
"Maybe he will give you something else to do, after the boating
season is over."
A few more words passed, and then Ned took his
departure. It was
to be a long time before the two friends would meet again.
So far Joe had had no trouble with anybody around the hotel, but
that evening, when he was cleaning out his boat, a man approached
him and caught him
rudely by the shoulder.
"So you're the feller that's took my job from me, eh?" snarled
the newcomer.
Our hero looked up and recognized Sam Cullum, the
boatman who had
been discharged for drinking. Even now the
boatman was more than
half under the influence of intoxicants.
"I haven't taken anybody's job from him," answered Joe.
"I say yer did!" growled Cullum. "It ain't fair, nuther!"
To this our hero did not reply, but went on cleaning out his
boat.
"Fer two pins I'd lick yer!" went on the tipsy
boatman, lurching
forward.
"See here, Sam Cullum, I want you to keep your distance," said
Joe,
sharply. "Mr. Mallison discharged you for drinking. I had
nothing to do with it."
"I don't drink; leastwise, I don't drink no more'n I need."
"Yes, you do. It would be the best thing in the world for you if
you'd leave
liquor alone entirely."
"Humph! don't you
preach to me, you little imp!"
"Then leave me alone."
"You stole the job from me an' I'm going to lick you for it."
"If you touch me you'll get hurt," said Joe, his eyes flashing.
"Leave me alone and I'll leave you alone."
"Bah!" snarled the other, and struck out
awkwardly. He wanted to
hit Joe on the nose, but the boy dodged with ease, and Sam Cullum
fell sprawling over the rowboat.
"Hi! what did ye trip me up for?" spluttered the half-intoxicated
man, as he rose slowly. "Don't you do that ag'in, do yer hear?"
"Then don't try to strike me again."
There was a moment of silence and then Sam Cullum gathered
himself for another blow. By this time a small crowd of boys and
hotel helpers began to collect.
"Sam Cullum's going to fight Joe Bodley!"
"Sam'll most kill Joe!"
With all his strength the man rushed at Joe. But the boy dodged
again and put out his foot and the man went headlong.
"Now will you let me alone?" asked our hero, coolly.
"No, I won't!" roared Sam Cullum. "Somebody give me a club! I'll
show him!"
Arising once more, he caught up an oar and launched a heavy blow
at Joe's head. For a third time our hero dodged, but the oar
struck him on the arm, and the blow hurt not a little.
Joe was now angry and believed it was time to defend himself. He
edged towards the end of the dock and Sam Cullum followed. Then,
of a sudden the boy ducked under the man's arm, turned, and gave
him a quick shove that sent him with a
splash into the lake.
"Hurrah! score one for Joe!"
"That will cool Sam Cullum's temper."
"Yes, and perhaps it will sober him a little," came from a man
standing by, who had witnessed the quarrel from the
beginning.
"He brought this on himself; the boy had nothing to do with it."
Sam Cullum floundered around in the water like a whale cast up in
the shallows. The lake at that point was not over four feet
deep, but he did not know enough to stand upright.
"Save me!" he bellowed. "Save me! I don't want to drown!"
"Swallow a little water, it will do you good!" said a bystander,
with a laugh.
"Walk out and you'll be all right," added another.
At last Sam Cullum found his feet and walked around the side of
the dock to the shore. A crowd followed him and kept him from
going at Joe again.
"I'll fix him another time," growled the intoxicated one, and
shuffled off, with some small boys jeering him.
"You treated him as he deserved," said one of the other boatmen
to Joe.
"I suppose he'll try to square up another time," answered our
hero.
"Well, I wouldn't take water for him, Joe."
"I don't intend to. If he attacks me I'll do the best I can to
defend myself."
"He has made a
nuisance of himself for a long time. It's a
wonder to me that Mr. Mallison put up with it so long."
"He was short of help, that's why. It isn't so easy to get new
help in the
height of the summer season."
"That is true."
Joe expected to have more trouble with Sam Cullum the next day
but it did not come. Then it leaked out that Cullum had gotten
into a row with his wife and some of her relatives that night and
was under
arrest. When the
boatman was brought up for trial the
Judge sentenced him to six months' imprisonment.
"And it serves him right," said the man who brought the news to
Joe.
"It must be hard on his wife."
"Well, it is, Joe."
"Have they any children?"
"Four--a boy of seven and three little girls."
"Are they well off?"
"What, with such a father? No, they are very poor. She used to
go out washing, but now she has to stay at home to take care of
the baby. Sam was a brute to strike her. I don't wonder the
relatives took a hand."
"Perhaps the relatives can help her."
"They can't do much, for they are all as poor as she is, and one
of them is just getting over an operation at the hospital."
"Where do the Cullums live?"
"Down on Railroad Alley, not far from the water tower. It's a
mite of a
cottage."
Joe said no more, but what he had been told him set him to
thinking, and that evening, after his work was over, he took a
walk through the town and in the direction of Railroad Alley.
Not far from the water station he found the Cullum
homestead, a
mite of a
cottage, as the man had said, with a tumbled-down
chimney and several broken-out windows. He looked in at one of
the windows and by the light of a smoking
kerosene lamp
beheld a
woman in a rocking-chair, rocking a baby to sleep. Three other
youngsters were
standing around,
knowing not what to do. On a
table were some dishes, all bare of food.
"Mamma, I want more bread," one of the little ones was saying.
"You can have more in the morning, Johnny," answered the mother.
"No, I want it now," whimpered the
youngster. "I'm hungry."
"I'm hungry, too," put in another little one.
"I can't give you any more to-night, for I haven't it," said the
mother, with a deep sigh. "Now, be still, or you'll wake the
baby."
"Why don't dad come home?" asked the boy of seven.
"He can't come home, Bobby--he--had to go away," faltered the
mother. "Now all be still, and you shall have more bread in the
morning."
The children began to cry, and
unable to stand the sight any
longer Joe
withdrew. Up the Alley was a
grocery store and he
almost ran to this.
"Give me some bread," he said, "and some cake, and a pound of
cheese, and some smoked beef, and a pound of good tea, and some
sugar. Be quick, please."
The goods were weighed out and wrapped up, and with his arms full
he ran back to the
cottage and kicked on the door.
"Who is there?" asked Mrs. Cullum, in alarm.
"Here are some groceries for you!" cried Joe. "All paid for!"
"Oh, look!" screamed the boy of seven. "Bread, and
cheese!"
"And sugar!" came from one of the little girls.
"And tea! Mamma, just what you like!" said another.
"Where did this come from?" asked Mrs. Cullum.
"A friend," answered Joe. "It's all paid for."
"I am very
thankful."
"Now we can have some bread, can't we?" queried the boy.
"Yes, and a bit of smoked beef and
cheese, too," said the mother,
and placing the
sleeping baby on a bed, she proceeded to deal out
the good things to her children.
CHAPTER VIII.
THE TIMID MR. GUSSING.
It was not until the children had been satisfied and put to bed
that Joe had a chance to talk to Mrs. Cullum. She was greatly
astonished when she
learned who he was.
"I didn't expect this kindness," said she. "I understand that my
husband treated you shamefully."
"It was the
liquor made him do it ma'am," answered our hero. "I
think he'd be all right if he'd leave drink alone."
"Yes, I am sure of it!" She gave a long sigh. "He was very kind
and true when we were first married. But then he got to using