CHAPTER XI.

TOM BECOMES DESPERATE.

“Look here,” said Tom, suddenly pausing in his walk and looking down at his brother. “The fact that you came honestly by your money will not interfere with our arrangement, will it?”

“I know what you mean, of course,” answered Oscar, “but I can’t consent to it. My instructions are most explicit, and the money I shall spend is not my own.”

“What’s the odds? Who’ll know whether you obey orders or not? How much are you to pay your guide?”

“A dollar and a half a day from the time we leave the fort until we get back.”

“Well, you will save all that by taking me in his place; and that consideration ought to have some weight with you, if you are as careful of the committee’s money as you pretend to be. When you go back to the post, tell him that you don’t want him—that you have made other arrangements—and be ready to meet me in the sage-brush to-morrow at sunrise. I shall want a pony, of course, and while you are about it you might as well bring me a rifle and a supply of ammunition. In the meantime, I will shake my partner, and we’ll set out together. When we find a place that suits us, we’ll go into camp, and while you are securing specimens I will put in the time in catching wolves. What do you say to it?”

“I say that there are many objections to your plan,” replied Oscar. “In the first place, my instructions are to hire a guide, and I have done so. If I should discharge Big Thompson, now that I have engaged him——”

“Big Thompson?” interrupted Tom. “He isn’t your guide, I hope?”

“He is; and he was recommended to me by the colonel commanding the post.”

“I don’t care who recommended him, he’s a rascal.”

“Do you know him?” asked Oscar.

“Not personally; but my partner does, and he doesn’t know any good of him, either. I wouldn’t pass a minute alone in the hills with him for all the money there is in the States.”

Oscar called to mind the kindly face of his guide, and the clear, honest-looking eyes which had gazed straight into his own whenever their owner spoke to him, and contrasted the man to whom that face and those eyes belonged with the sneaking ruffian he had met in the sage-brush; and the conclusion at which he arrived was that there was nothing in the world that would induce him to change companions with Tom.

Before he would do that he would throw up his situation and look about for some other occupation that would support himself and his mother.

Believing that Tom’s “partner” had some good cause for hating Big Thompson, Oscar said no more about him, but went on to state the other objections he had to Tom’s plan.

“Another reason why I can’t agree to your proposal is that I am working on a salary, and I am in duty bound to do the best I can for those who employ me,” said he. “What could you and I accomplish by roaming about among the hills without an experienced hunter to show us where the game is? You would catch no wolves, and I should find no specimens.”

“Yes, we would, for game of all kinds is so abundant that we couldn’t run amiss of it,” answered Tom.

Without stopping to argue this point, Oscar continued:

“There is still another reason. I am only on probation now, and unless I can show that committee that I am a hunter as well as a taxidermist, I shall have to step aside and give place to somebody else. You can see for yourself that it is to my interest to do the best I can at the start.”

“You seem to be full of excuses, but you needn’t offer any more,” said Tom, with suppressed rage. “If you don’t want to agree to my proposal, say it in so many words.”

“I don’t want to agree to your proposal,” returned Oscar. “I can’t.”

“You were ready enough to help Leon, who is nothing to you, and who did his best to injure you in every possible way while you lived in Eaton!” sneered Tom; “but when your brother asks you for a lift, you refuse to raise a finger. Lend me a hundred dollars to buy an outfit with. Can you do that?”

“No, I can’t. I haven’t got the money.”

“There! What did I tell you?” Tom almost shouted. “A little while ago you said you had a thousand dollars.”

“But it doesn’t belong to me. I have to use it in paying my expenses.”

“And Leon’s too!” exclaimed Tom. “You must have paid his stage and railroad fare out of that fund.”

“I did; but I shall have to replace it out of my own pocket.”

“You couldn’t lend me a hundred dollars, and replace it in the same way, I suppose?”

“No, I could not, for two reasons: In the first place, that mortgage must be paid, so that mother can be sure of a home of her own; and in the next, I don’t know how much money I shall need this winter. I must feed my guide as well as myself, and when we come back to the fort I must pay him cash in hand for his services. Then I have a pony, mule, and wagon to buy, and it will cost a snug sum to transport myself and the specimens I hope to procure to Eaton. Wouldn’t I be in a pretty fix if I should find my money was running short?”

“You could draw on that committee for more, couldn’t you?”

“No, I couldn’t. That wasn’t in the bargain.”

“What’s the odds? Take the risk. Tell them that you were robbed, or that your expenses were a little heavier than you thought they would be.”

“I’ll not tell a lie to please anybody,” said Oscar indignantly.

“Of course not! _Of_ course not!” yelled Tom, who was so nearly beside himself with fury that he could not stand still even for a moment. “You were quite willing to help a boy who has slandered you, and to work yourself to death in order to win the approbation of strangers, but you wouldn’t give your needy brother fifteen cents to save him from starving.”

“I’ll tell you what I will do,” said Oscar, paying no heed to Tom’s remarks. “I will give you a suit of warm clothing and an overcoat, if you will accept them.”

It was right on the point of Tom’s tongue to tell Oscar to bundle up that suit of warm clothing and the overcoat, and take them to Guinea, or some other place under the equator—not because he did not need the clothing, but because he wanted money more, and it made him angry to know that he could not get it.

If Oscar had been able to comply with his demands, every cent would have been squandered, and his brother would have started out in his threadbare suit to face the winter’s storms.

Tom did not utter the words that arose to his lips. He paced back and forth for some minutes, with his eyes fastened on the ground, when suddenly a daring project suggested itself to him.

Without stopping to dwell on it, he strode up and faced his brother. There was a wild look in his eyes, and his fingers worked convulsively.

“How much money have you got in your pocket?” he asked, in as steady a tone as he could command.

“Not a red cent,” was the reply. “I left it all at the fort. I thought it would be safer there.”

“And I wasn’t mistaken, either,” said Oscar, to himself, as he looked up at his brother. “No honest face ever wore an expression like that. I think I would be safer at the fort myself.”

Tom could not meet his brother’s gaze. He turned away his head and resumed his seat on the log.

Oscar had never before come so near being robbed as he had that day. Tom was really in terrible straits, and so very much in need of money that he would not have hesitated to knock his brother senseless, if he had been sure that by so doing he could secure possession of his well-filled pocket-book.

If the latter had not been thoughtful enough to place all his money in his trunk before setting out on his ride, there would have been a desperate battle on the banks of that little stream; and it is possible that before it was ended Tom would have discovered that he had undertaken more than he could accomplish.

He was much larger and heavier than his brother, and plumed himself on being a boxer, but he was weakened and dispirited, by long-continued dissipation, while Oscar, having lived a strictly temperate life, was always in condition to do his best.

“Don’t you think it about time to turn over a new leaf?” asked Oscar, as he arose to his feet and laid his hand on his brother’s shoulder. “One is getting pretty near the end of his rope when he can bring himself to think seriously of committing such a crime as you had in contemplation a few minutes ago.”

Tom did not raise his head or utter a sound. He could not find words with which to deny the accusation.