Hello,Welcome!Log In to My AccountorCreate Account

"What is the matter? Does your head ache?" asked Jill, oneevening in March, observing that Jack sat with his head in hishands, an attitude which, with him, meant either pain orperplexity.

"No; but I'm bothered. I want some money, and I don't see how Ican earn it," he answered, tumbling his hair about, and frowningdarkly at the fire.

"How much?" and Jill's ready hand went to the pocket where herlittle purse lay, for she felt rich with several presents lately madeher.

"Two seventy-five. No, thank you, I won't borrow."

"What is it for?"

"Can't tell."

"Why, I thought you told me everything."

"Sorry, but I can't this time. Don't you worry; I shall think ofsomething."

"Couldn't your mother help?"

"Don't wish to ask her."

"Nobody can."

"How queer! Is it a scrape, Jack?" asked Jill, looking as curious asa magpie.

"It is likely to be, if I can't get out of it this week, somehow."

"Well, I don't see how I can help if I'm not to know anything;" andJill seemed rather hurt.

"You can just stop asking questions, and tell me how a fellow canearn some money. That would help. I've got one dollar, but I musthave some more;" and Jack looked worried as he fingered the littlegold dollar on his watch-guard.

"Oh, do you mean to use that?"

"Yes, I do; a man must pay his debts if he sells all he has to do it,"said Jack sternly.

"Dear me; it must be something very serious." And Jill lay quitestill for five minutes, thinking over all the ways in which Jack everdid earn money, for Mrs. Minot liked to have her boys work, andpaid them in some way for all they did.

"Is there any wood to saw?" she asked presently, being veryanxious to help.

"All done."

"Paths to shovel?"

"No snow."

"Lawn to rake, then?"

"Not time for that yet."

"Catalogue of books?"

"Frank got that job."

"Copy those letters for your mother?"

"Take me too long. Must have my money Friday, if possible."

"I don't see what we can do, then. It is too early or too late foreverything, and you won't borrow."

"Not of you. No, nor of any one else, if I can possibly help it. I'vepromised to do this myself, and I will;" and Jack wagged his headresolutely.

"Couldn't you do something with the printing-press? Do me somecards, and then, perhaps, the other girls will want some," said Jill,as a forlorn hope.

"Just the thing! What a goose I was not to think of it. I'll rig the oldmachine up at once." And, starting from his seat, Jack dived intothe big closet, dragged out the little press, and fell to oiling,dusting, and putting it in order, like one relieved of a great anxiety.

A dozen neat cards were soon printed, and Jill insisted on payingsix cents for them, as earning was not borrowing. A few odd tagswere found and done for Mamma, who immediately ordered fourdozen at six cents a dozen, though she was not told why there wassuch a pressing call for money.

Jack's monthly half-dollar had been spent the first week, - twenty-five cents for a concert, ten paid a fine for keeping a booktoo long from the library, ten more to have his knife ground, andfive in candy, for he dearly loved sweeties, and was under bonds toMamma not to spend more than five cents a month on theseunwholesome temptations. She never asked the boys what they didwith their money, but expected them to keep account in the littlebooks she gave them; and, now and then, they showed the neatpages with pardonable pride, though she often laughed at the queeritems.

All that evening Jack & Co. worked busily, for when Frank camein he good-naturedly ordered some pale-pink cards for Annette,and ran to the store to choose the right shade, and buy somepackages for the young printer also.

"Oh, some notion. He's a queer chap; but I guess it isn't much of ascrape, or I should know it. He's so good-natured he's alwayspromising to do things for people, and has too much pluck to giveup when he finds he can't. Let him alone, and it will all come outsoon enough," answered Frank, who laughed at his brother, butloved him none the less for the tender heart that often got thebetter of his young head.

But for once Frank was mistaken; the mystery did not come out,and Jack worked like a beaver all that week, as orders poured inwhen Jill and Annette showed their elegant cards; for, aseverybody knows, if one girl has a new thing all the rest must,whether it is a bow on the top of her head, a peculiar sort of pencil,or the latest kind of chewing-gum. Little play did the poor fellowget, for every spare minute was spent at the press, and noinvitation could tempt him away, so much in earnest was ourhonest little Franklin about paying his debt. Jill helped all shecould, and cheered his labors with her encouragement, rememberinghow he stayed at home for her.

"It is real good of you to lend a hand, and I'm ever so muchobliged," said Jack, as the last order was struck off, and the drawerof the type-box held a pile of shining five and ten cent pieces, withtwo or three quarters.

"I love to; only it would be nicer if I knew what we were workingfor," she said demurely, as she scattered type for the last time; andseeing that Jack was both tired and grateful, hoped to get a hint ofthe secret.

"I want to tell you, dreadfully; but I can't, because I've promised."

"What, never?"

"Never!" and Jack looked as firm as a rock.

"You can't."

"See if I don't!"

"You are sharp, but you won't guess this. It's a tremendous secret,and nobody will tell it."

"You'll tell it yourself. You always do."

"I won't tell this. It would be mean."

"Wait and see; I can get anything out of you if I try;" and Jilllaughed, knowing her power well, for Jack found it very hard tokeep a secret from her.

"Don't try; please don't! It wouldn't be right, and you don't want tomake me do a dishonorable thing for your sake, I know."

Thus relieved, Jack trudged off to school on Friday with the twodollars and seventy-five cents jingling in his pocket, though thedear gold coin had to be sacrificed to make up the sum. He did hislessons badly that day, was late at recess in the afternoon, and, assoon as school was over, departed in his rubber boots "to take awalk," he said, though the roads were in a bad state with a springthaw. Nothing was seen of him till after tea-time, when he camelimping in, very dirty and tired, but with a reposeful expression,which betrayed that a load was off his mind. Frank was busy abouthis own affairs and paid little attention to him, but Jill was ontenter-hooks to know where he had been, yet dared not ask thequestion.

"Merry's brother wants some cards. He liked hers so much hewishes to make his lady-love a present. Here's the name;" and Jillheld up the order from Harry Grant, who was to be married in theautumn.

"Must wait till next week. I'm too tired to do a thing to-night, and Ihate the sight of that old press," answered Jack, laying himselfdown upon the rug as if every joint ached.

"What made you take such a long walk? You look as tired as ifyou'd been ten miles," said Jill, hoping to discover the length of thetrip.

"Had to. Four or five miles isn't much, only my leg bothered me;"and Jack gave the ailing member a slap, as if he had found it muchin his way that day; for, though he had given up the crutches longago, he rather missed their support sometimes. Then, with a greatyawn, he stretched himself out to bask in the blaze, pillowing hishead on his arms.

"Dear old thing, he looks all used up; I won't plague him withtalking;" and Jill began to sing, as she often did in the twilight.

By the time the first song ended a gentle snore was heard, and Jacklay fast asleep, worn out with the busy week and the walk, whichhad been longer and harder than any one guessed. Jill took up herknitting and worked quietly by firelight, still wondering andguessing what the secret could be; for she had not much to amuseher, and little things were very interesting if connected with herfriends. Presently Jack rolled over and began to mutter in his sleep,as he often did when too weary for sound slumber. Jill paid noattention till he uttered a name which made her prick up her earsand listen to the broken sentences which followed. Only a fewwords, but she dropped her work, saying to herself, -

Much pleased, she leaned and listened, but could make no sense ofthe confused babble about "heavy boots;" "All right, old fellow;""Jerry's off;" and "The ink is too thick."

The slam of the front door woke Jack, and he pulled himself up,declaring that he believed he had been having a nap.

"I wish you'd have another," said Jill, greatly disappointed at theloss of the intelligence she seemed to be so near getting.

"Floor is too hard for tired bones. Guess I'll go to bed and getrested up for Monday. I've worked like fury this week, so nextI'm going in for fun;" and, little dreaming what hard times were instore for him, Jack went off to enjoy his warm bath and welcomebed, where he was soon sleeping with the serene look of onewhose dreams were happy, whose conscience was at rest.

"I have a few words to say to you before you go," said Mr. Acton,pausing with his hand on the bell, Monday afternoon, when thehour came for dismissing school.

The bustle of putting away books and preparing for as rapid adeparture as propriety allowed, subsided suddenly, and the boysand girls sat as still as mice, while the hearts of such as had beenguilty of any small sins began to beat fast.

"You remember that we had some trouble last winter aboutkeeping the boys away from the saloon, and that a rule was madeforbidding any pupil to go to town during recess?" began Mr.Acton, who, being a conscientious man as well as an excellentteacher, felt that he was responsible for the children in schoolhours, and did his best to aid parents in guarding them from thefew temptations which beset them in a country town. A certainattractive little shop, where confectionery, baseballs, stationery,and picture papers were sold, was a favorite loafing place for someof the boys till the rule forbidding it was made, because in the rearof the shop was a beer and billiard saloon. A wise rule, for thepicture papers were not always of the best sort; cigars were to behad; idle fellows hung about there, and some of the lads, whowanted to be thought manly, ventured to pass the green baize door"just to look on."

A murmur answered the teacher's question, and he continued,"You all know that the rule was broken several times, and I toldyou the next offender would be publicly reprimanded, as privatepunishments had no effect. I am sorry to say that the time hascome, and the offender is a boy whom I trusted entirely. It grievesme to do this, but I must keep my promise, and hope the examplewill have a good effect."

Mr. Acton paused, as if he found it hard to go on, and the boyslooked at one another with inquiring eyes, for their teacher seldompunished, and when he did, it was a very solemn thing. Several ofthese anxious glances fell upon Joe, who was very red and satwhittling a pencil as if he dared not lift his eyes.

"He's the chap. Won't he catch it?" whispered Gus to Frank, forboth owed him a grudge.

"The boy who broke the rule last Friday, at afternoon recess, willcome to the desk," said Mr. Acton in his most impressive manner.

If a thunderbolt had fallen through the roof it would hardly havecaused a greater surprise than the sight of Jack Minot walkingslowly down the aisle, with a wrathful flash in the eyes he turnedon Joe as he passed him.

"Now, Minot, let us have this over as soon as possible, for I do notlike it any better than you do, and I am sure there is some mistake.I'm told you went to the shop on Friday. Is it true?" asked Mr.Acton very gently, for he liked Jack and seldom had to correct himin any way.

"Yes, sir;" and Jack looked up as if proud to show that he was notafraid to tell the truth as far as he could.

"To buy something?"

"No, sir."

"To meet someone?"

"Yes, sir."

"Was it Jerry Shannon?"

No answer, but Jack's fists doubled up of themselves as he shotanother fiery glance at Joe, whose face burned as if it scorchedhim.

"I am told it was; also that you were seen to go into the saloonwith him. Did you?" and Mr. Acton looked so sure that it was amistake that it cost Jack a great effort to say, slowly, -

"Yes, sir."

Quite a thrill pervaded the school at this confession, for Jerry wasone of the wild fellows the boys all shunned, and to have anydealings with him was considered a very disgraceful thing.

"Did you play?"

"No, sir. I can't."

"Drink beer?"

"I belong to the Lodge;" and Jack stood as erect as any little soldierwho ever marched under a temperance banner, and fought for thecause none are too young nor too old to help along.

"I was sure of that. Then what took you there, my boy?"

The question was so kindly put that Jack forgot himself an instant,and blurted out, -

"I only went to pay him some money, sir."

"Ah, how much?"

"Two seventy-five," muttered Jack, as red as a cherry at not beingable to keep a secret better.

"Too much for a lad like you to owe such a fellow as Jerry. Howcame it?" And Mr. Acton looked disturbed.

Jack opened his lips to speak, but shut them again, and stoodlooking down with a little quiver about the mouth that showedhow much it cost him to be silent.

"Does any one beside Jerry know of this?"

"One other fellow," after a pause.

"Yes, I understand;" and Mr. Acton's eye glanced at Joe with alook that seemed to say, "I wish he'd held his tongue."

A queer smile flitted over Jack's face, for Joe was not the "otherfellow," and knew very little about it, excepting what he had seenwhen he was sent on an errand by Mr. Acton on Friday.

"I wish you would explain the matter, John, for I am sure it isbetter than it seems, and it would be very hard to punish you whenyou don't deserve it."

"But I do deserve it; I've broken the rule, and I ought to bepunished," said Jack, as if a good whipping would be easier to bearthan this public cross-examination.

"And you can't explain, or even say you are sorry or ashamed?"asked Mr. Acton, hoping to surprise another fact out of the boy.

"No, sir; I can't; I'm not ashamed; I'm not sorry, and I'd do it againto-morrow if I had to," cried Jack, losing patience, and looking asif he would not bear much more.

A groan from the boys greeted this bare-faced declaration, andSusy quite shivered at the idea of having taken two bites out of theapple of such a hardened desperado.

"Think it over till to-morrow, and perhaps you will change yourmind. Remember that this is the last week of the month, andreports are given out next Friday," said Mr. Acton, knowing howmuch the boy prided himself on always having good ones to showhis mother.

Poor Jack turned scarlet and bit his lips to keep them still, for hehad forgotten this when he plunged into the affair which was likelyto cost him dear. Then the color faded away, the boyish face grewsteady, and the honest eyes looked up at his teacher as he said verylow, but all heard him, the room was so still, -

"It isn't as bad as it looks, sir, but I can't say any more. No one is toblame but me; and I couldn't help breaking the rule, for Jerry wasgoing away, I had only that time, and I'd promised to pay up, so Idid."

Mr. Acton believed every word he said, and regretted that they hadnot been able to have it out privately, but he, too, must keep hispromise and punish the offender, whoever he was.

"Very well, you will lose your recess for a week, and this month'sreport will be the first one in which behavior does not get thehighest mark. You may go; and I wish it understood that MasterMinot is not to be troubled with questions till he chooses to set thismatter right."

Then the bell rang, the children trooped out, Mr. Acton went offwithout another word, and Jack was left alone to put up his booksand hide a few tears that would come because Frank turned hiseyes away from the imploring look cast upon him as the culpritcame down from the platform, a disgraced boy.

Elder brothers are apt to be a little hard on younger ones, so it isnot surprising that Frank, who was an eminently proper boy, wasmuch cut up when Jack publicly confessed to dealings with Jerry,leaving it to be supposed that the worst half of the story remaineduntold. He felt it his duty, therefore, to collar poor Jack when hecame out, and talk to him all the way home, like a judge bent ongetting at the truth by main force. A kind word would have beenvery comforting, but the scolding was too much for Jack's temper,so he turned dogged and would not say a word, though Frankthreatened not to speak to him for a week.

At tea-time both boys were very silent, one looking grim, the otherexcited. Frank stared sternly at his brother across the table, and noamount of marmalade sweetened or softened that reproachful look.Jack defiantly crunched his toast, with occasional slashes at thebutter, as if he must vent the pent-up emotions which halfdistracted him. Of course, their mother saw that something wasamiss, but did not allude to it, hoping that the cloud would blowover as so many did if left alone. But this one did not, and whenboth refused cake, this sure sign of unusual perturbation made heranxious to know the cause. As soon as tea was over, Jack retiredwith gloomy dignity to his own room, and Frank, casting away thepaper he had been pretending to read, burst out with the wholestory. Mrs. Minot was as much surprised as he, but not angry,because, like most mothers, she was sure that her sons could notdo anything very bad.

"He will. You often call me obstinate, but he is as pig-headed as amule; Joe only knows what he saw, old tell-tale! and Jerry has lefttown, or I'd have it out of him. Make Jack own up, whether he canor not. Little donkey!" stormed Frank, who hated rowdies andcould not forgive his brother for being seen with one.

"My dear, all boys do foolish things sometimes, even the wisestand best behaved, so don't be hard on the poor child. He has gotinto trouble, I've no doubt, but it cannot be very bad, and he earnedthe money to pay for his prank, whatever it was."

Mrs. Minot left the room as she spoke, and Frank cooled down asif her words had been a shower-bath, for he remembered his owncostly escapade, and how kindly both his mother and Jack hadstood by him on that trying occasion. So, feeling rather remorseful,he went off to talk it over with Gus, leaving Jill in a fever ofcuriosity, for Merry and Molly had dropped in on their way hometo break the blow to her, and Frank declined to discuss it with her,after mildly stating that Jack was "a ninny," in his opinion.

"Well, I know one thing," said Jill confidentially to Snow-ball,when they were left alone together, "if every one else is scoldinghim I won't say a word. It's so mean to crow over people when theyare down, and I'm sure he hasn't done anything to be ashamed of,though he won't tell."

Snow-ball seemed to agree to this, for he went and sat down byJack's slippers waiting for him on the hearth, and Jill thought that avery touching proof of affectionate fidelity to the little master whoruled them both.

When he came, it was evident that he had found it harder to refusehis mother than all the rest. But she trusted him in spite ofappearances, and that was such a comfort! For poor Jack's heartwas very full, and he longed to tell the whole story, but he wouldnot break his promise, and so kept silence bravely. Jill asked noquestions, affecting to be anxious for the games they alwaysplayed together in the evening, but while they played, though thelips were sealed, the bright eyes said as plainly as words, "I trustyou," and Jack was very grateful.

It was well he had something to cheer him up at home, for he gotlittle peace at school. He bore the grave looks of Mr. Actonmeekly, took the boys' jokes good-naturedly, and withstood theartful teasing of the girls with patient silence. But it was very hardfor the social, affectionate fellow to bear the general distrust, forhe had been such a favorite he felt the change keenly.

But the thing that tried him most was the knowledge that his reportwould not be what it usually was. It was always a happy momentwhen he showed it to his mother, and saw her eye brighten as itfell on the 99 or 100, for she cared more for good behavior thanfor perfect lessons. Mr. Acton once said that Frank Minot's moralinfluence in the school was unusual, and Jack never forgot herpride and delight as she told them what Frank himself had notknown till then. It was Jack's ambition to have the same said ofhim, for he was not much of a scholar, and he had tried hard sincehe went back to school to get good records in that respect at least.Now here was a dreadful downfall, tardy marks, bad company,broken rules, and something too wrong to tell, apparently.

"Well, I deserve a good report, and that's a comfort, though nobodybelieves it," he said to himself, trying to keep up his spirits, as theslow week went by, and no word from him had cleared up themystery.