CHAPTER XXI.

STARTLING INFORMATION.

Realizing that he had a long walk before him, Jack continued on at a steady pace keeping ever in mind the good he hoped to accomplish.

He did not dare dwell upon the possible ending to the journey lest he should grow faint-hearted, but tried to persuade himself there would be some way by which he might escape the threatened ignominy.

By starting at midnight, he expected to arrive at Scarborough early in the day, and then, in case Farmer Pratt did not attempt to detain him, it would be possible to return to the farm before sunset.

It was not believed he would meet any travellers at that hour, and the loneliness, when the shadows danced to and fro athwart the road like fairy-land monsters, was so great as to make him repent ever having attempted the undertaking.

As the curtain of night was slowly removed, and the heralds of the coming morn appeared in the sky, his drooping spirits revived.

He listened with interest to the sounds which proclaimed that day was awakening. The birds in their leafy homes began to discuss the propriety of going out in search of the "early worm." The frogs from the watery dwellings called to their children that it was time to be up and doing unless they wanted to remain tadpoles forever, and the wind which came "out of the sea" whispered: Awake! it is the day.

The leaves bowed and courtesied, the waving grasses bent yet lower their heads, the flowers brought out their sweetest perfumes, and all nature was quivering with excitement because the kindly sun was about to show himself once more.

Then as the first golden rays of light shot across the sky and the birds burst forth into song, Jack felt a certain sense of relief. The words which he had heard Aunt Nancy speak so often came to his mind, and he repeated over and over again, understanding the meaning better than ever before,--

"He doeth all things well."

It was but a little past eight o'clock when he turned the corner which led to Farmer Pratt's house, and the first person he saw was none other than Master Tom.

"Hello! Where'd you come from?" that young gentleman cried in surprise.

"Down the road a bit."

"Why didn't you git back before? Father's been lookin' almost everywhere for you an' the baby."

"Is he still huntin'?"

"No, he gave it up as a bad job a good while ago, for there's no chance of gettin' the reward now."

"The reward?" Jack asked in surprise.

"Yes; you see the baby's mother went away from Portland, an' father don't allow there's anybody in town who cares very much about it after so long a time."

"Louis' mother in Portland?" Jack cried, rapidly growing bewildered.

"Of course; father went in to see her after he made up his mind you'd gone away; but she wasn't there, so he said it would pay him better to 'tend to the farm instead of runnin' 'round after you fellers."

Jack's eyes were opened wide with astonishment, and Tom began to think the hunchback had taken leave of his senses.

"What's the matter with you?" he asked sharply, and Jack replied slowly,--

"I can't make out how Mrs. Littlefield happened to be in Portland when the last I saw of her was on the 'Atlanta.' Why, the ship was goin' to Bremen!"

"She come inside the breakwater after you went adrift. It's all in the papers father's got."

"Why didn't you tell me about it?" Jack asked reproachfully.

"How could I when we didn't know where you was? Me an' father hunted all 'round, but couldn't find hide nor hair of either you or the baby."

"Was your father tryin' to send us back to Mrs. Littlefield?"

"Sure, 'cause he wanted to earn the reward."

"An' I've been keepin' out of his way when I might have given Louis back to his mother long ago!" Jack cried in dismay.

"You oughter knowed better."

"How could I when he'd threatened to send us to the poor farm?"

"But he didn't."

"He told Aunt Nancy so."

"Who's she?"

"A lady we've been livin' with. Say, Tom, have you got the papers that tell about Mrs. Littlefield huntin' for us?"

"There's a whole slat of 'em down to the house. Father spent more'n twenty cents buyin' whatever had anything in it about you."

"Will you give me one?"

"Of course. I know they ain't any good, for I heard him say he'd thrown away jest so much money on the pesky things."

"Let's go right down an' get one," Jack cried excitedly as he tried to quicken Tom's movements by pulling at his arm.

Master Pratt was not a boy who could be hurried; he objected to moving quickly upon any occasion, however important, and said irritably,--

"Don't yank a feller 'round so; if I go back now I'm afraid father'll be there an' set me to work."

"I'll help you if he does."

"A feller like you wouldn't 'mount to much haulin' rock-weed," Tom said scornfully.

"But I'll help as much as I can. _Do_ go, Tom; only think what it means to Louis! His mother will soon find him if I can take one of the papers back to Aunt Nancy."

"How do you make that out?"

"She'd see where to write to Mrs. Littlefield, an' that would settle the whole thing."

"Well, I'll go," Master Pratt said with an air such as he fancied a martyr should wear; "but it's goin' to be mighty hard if I'm set to work after gettin' so far away from home."

Jack hurried him along as fast as possible, which at the best was a slow pace, and, on arriving at the Pratt farm, Tom reconnoitred several minutes, determined not to enter the house if his father was on the premises.

Mr. Pratt was nowhere to be seen, and Tom whispered,--

"You stay here while I run in an' get it. Mother may be mad if she sees you hangin' 'round after father has blowed us up so much for lettin' you go away."

Jack hid himself behind a clump of hollyhocks, and in a few moments Tom came back with two papers which showed signs of having been subjected to hard usage.

"Put 'em in your pocket, an' let's skip."

Jack was about to act upon this suggestion when it suddenly occurred to him that, in the excitement caused by learning Louis' mother was searching for her child, he had forgotten the reason for his visit.

"I've got to see your father before I leave," he said.

"What for? He won't be very pleasant after losin' all the money the captain's wife was willin' to pay."

"I can't help that. I'm here with a message from Aunt Nancy, an' it must be delivered."

"I guess you'll find him down in the potato patch, but I ain't fool enough to go with you. Hurry up, an' I'll see you on the road, for I reckon you count on goin' back to that Aunt Nancy."

"Of course, an' I must be there as soon as possible."

Tom pointed out the location of the field, and Jack started across the ploughed land feeling very light at heart, because it now seemed probable Louis would soon find his mother.

Farmer Pratt was not aware he had a visitor until Jack had approached within a couple of yards, and said in a voice which was decidedly shaky,--

"Good mornin', sir."

"Hello! It's you, eh?"

"Yes, sir," Jack replied, as if believing the gentleman wished for an answer.

"Well, you young scoundrel, what have you to say for yourself after cheatin' me out of one hundred dollars? Answer me that, you misshapen villain!"

"I didn't cheat you, sir."

"Don't contradict me, you miserable cripple, or as sure's my name's Nathan Pratt I'll strike you with this hoe!"

Jack started back in alarm as the farmer raised the tool, and then, hoping to bring the interview to a speedy close, said timidly,--

"I came here, sir, to tell you that Aunt Nancy is awful sorry she acted a lie when you were at the house huntin' for us. She can't be easy in her mind till she's confessed, an' as she couldn't walk so far I've come in her place."

"Is that the little woman up on the Saco road with a couple of curls an' a mighty sharp tongue?"

"She's got two curls."

"I know her! So she lied to me, eh?"

"Not exactly, sir, for you didn't ask straight out if we were there; but she's awful good and thinks by not tellin' everything it was the same as a lie, so I come over here to tell you she's sorry."

"So she ought to be, the vixen! The idea of a little drop of vinegar like her keepin' that baby away from his mother!"

"Did you know, then, that Louis' mother was huntin' for him?"

"Of course I did, or else why would I have gone gallivantin' 'round the country lookin' for him?"

"Then why didn't you tell her? She'd been only too glad to hear from Mrs. Littlefield, but you made her believe we'd got to be took to the poor farm."

The farmer glared at Jack for an instant, and then it flashed across his mind that the cause of his losing the reward was the lie he told to Aunt Nancy.

This was not a consoling thought to one who had mourned so deeply over the loss of the prospective money as had Mr. Pratt, and the only relief he could find was in scolding Jack.

The cripple listened to his angry words a few seconds, and then, knowing no good could come of waiting, said as he walked away,--

"I only came over here to tell you Aunt Nancy was sorry, an' there's no need of stayin' any longer after you know it."

"I'll have her arrested for swindlin' me outer that money!"

"She didn't do anything of the kind, an' it's all your own fault you lost it," Jack cried, emboldened by the knowledge that he was at a safe distance from the angry man.

The farmer shook his fist at the cripple in impotent rage, and Jack hurried out to the road where Tom was waiting to receive him.

"What was goin' on down there?" Master Pratt asked eagerly. "I heard him hollerin' awful."

"It wasn't much. Your father was kinder mad, but I guess he'll get over it pretty soon."

"I hope so, for he's been scoldin' about losin' the money ever since he first saw the papers. Where are you goin' now?"

"Home."

"Why don't you hold on a while an' get rested?"

"It won't do to stop; Aunt Nancy'll be worryin' about me, an', besides, we've got to send a letter to Louis' mother right away."

Tom insisted that after the service he had rendered it would be nothing more than a friendly act for the cripple to remain and chat a while, but Jack would listen to nothing of the kind.

Despite his weariness he set out on the return journey at once, but with a lighter heart than when he left Aunt Nancy's home.

It was dark when he came down the lane and found the little woman sitting under the old oak.

"O Jack dear!" she cried in tones of mingled joy and surprise. "It's really you, and that hard-hearted farmer didn't send you to the poor farm. But perhaps you couldn't find him," she added as the thought occurred to her.

"Yes I did, an' I told him you was sorry."

Then Jack related the incidents of his journey, reserving until the last the startling news which promised to restore Louis to his parents' arms.

Aunt Nancy alternately laughed and cried when she heard the story, and at its conclusion said,--

"What a lesson that should be to us, Jack dear. If I hadn't acted the lie Louis would have seen his mother just so much sooner, and I have been the means of making the poor woman's heart ache longer than was necessary. You thought it wasn't a sin because I didn't _speak_ the words which formed the falsehood, and yet you can now see that increased trouble has been brought about by it."

"But Mr. Pratt told a reg'lar lie."

"That doesn't excuse me in the slightest. If every person in the world spoke falsely I couldn't plead that it gave me a right to do so. But come into the house and get something to eat. You must be nearly famished as well as tired."

"A slice of bread and butter wouldn't taste bad. Where's Louis?"

"I put him to bed an hour ago," the little woman replied as she led the way in. "After I set the table I'll read the papers you brought so we can find out what's to be done to let that poor woman know where her baby is."

Jack insisted there was no reason why the table should be laid for him, but Aunt Nancy would not listen to his proposition of taking the food in his hands.

She set out some of the best crockery, and in it placed as tempting a lunch as the most fastidious boy could have asked for.

Then as Jack ate she read the accounts of the accident on board the "Atlanta."

"It doesn't state here where the captain lives," she said after a while, "but I think I know how we can find Mrs. Littlefield. I will write a letter to the editor of the paper asking for her address, or perhaps it would save time to send one to her and get him to address it."

"The last plan is the best," Jack said after some thought.

"Then I'll write at once, and you shall take it to the post office the first thing in the morning."

It was late before the little woman finished what was to her a hard task, and then she thanked her Father for his wondrous goodness and mercy in allowing that her sin brought forth no other evil than the delay in restoring the baby to his mother's arms.