Читать книгу Out For Business or Robert Frost's Strange Career - Stratemeyer Edward, Alger Horatio Jr., Thomas Chandler Haliburton - Страница 2

Robert Frost, with his books under his arm, turned into the front yard of a handsome residence in the village of Granville. He was a boy of sixteen, strongly built, and with a handsome, expressive face.

"I wish mother were at home," he soliloquized. "It seems very lonesome when she is away."

He opened the front door and let himself into the house. It was a handsome and spacious hall. Two paintings hung on the walls, and both were portraits. One represented a lady, with a pretty, but rather weak face. She looked as if she had very little resolution, and might easily be influenced by one with stronger will. The other picture was that of a man of near forty. It was an attractive face. The strong resemblance which it bore to the boy made it probable that it was his father, and such was the case. Robert looked up to it regretfully, for he had not yet got over the loss of his father, hardly twelve months dead.

"I wish dad were alive," he thought sadly, "we were such good friends, he and I."

Mr. Frost had not died of disease. He was cut off in the full vigor of life, the victim of a railroad accident. Robert remembered well when he was taken home, mangled and hardly to be recognized.

His death did not entail any privation upon his little family—Robert was the only child—for he left a considerable fortune and was heavily insured besides, so that they were still able to live in handsome style.

"When will supper be ready, Jane?" Robert asked of the servant, as he passed into the dining-room.

"At half-past five o'clock, Master Robert."

"All right, Jane. I will be on hand, and with a good appetite."

He put on his hat, after laying down his books, and was about to go out, when Jane arrested his steps.

"Wait a minute, Master Robert. There's a telegram for you."

He took the yellow envelope in some surprise.

"When was it left?" he asked.

"Half an hour since."

"It must be from mother," he said thoughtfully.

"Very likely—I hope it isn't bad news."

Robert echoed the wish, but did not say a word. He took out his penknife and opened the envelope.

There it was—just a few words, but they puzzled him.

"What is it?" asked Jane, whose curiosity was excited.

Robert read the telegram. It ran thus:

"Gloucester, June 5.

"Shall be at home to-morrow. Prepare for a great surprise.

"Mother."

Robert looked surprised and bewildered.

"What can it mean, Jane, do you think?" he asked.

"I don't know, I'm sure, Master Robert. Perhaps your mother is going to bring you a present."

"But she wouldn't call that a great surprise."

"I don't know then. You'll know to-morrow."

Yes, he would know to-morrow, but he could not help letting his mind dwell on the mystery. It occurred to him that it might be a gold watch, which he had long wanted, and which his mother had promised to get him very soon. But this would scarcely be considered a great surprise.

"Well, there's no use guessing," he decided at length. "I'll only have to wait till to-morrow, and then I shall know."

The next day was Saturday, and school did not keep. Robert looked over the railroad time-table, and concluded that his mother would arrive about twelve o'clock. This would bring her in time for dinner, which was usually on the table at half past twelve. He suggested to Jane to get a better dinner than usual, as his mother would probably be present to partake of it.

This suggestion proved unnecessary, for about ten o'clock Jane herself received a telegram to this effect.

"Have a good dinner ready at the usual time. I shall reach home in time for it, and bring another with me."

"So that's the surprise!" reflected Jane. "She is going to bring a friend with her. I wonder who it is. Maybe it's the lady she's been visiting. I hope it isn't, for lady visitors are so fussy."

However, Jane went to the market and ordered a pair of chickens, with a variety of vegetables, and prepared apple dumplings, which she knew Mrs. Frost always enjoyed.

"Now," she said, "I'll have a dinner good enough for anybody."

Robert intended to go to the depot to meet his mother, but he went on an expedition with one of his schoolmates, and found that he would scarcely have time to do so. So he returned home.

"Has mother come, Jane?" he asked.

"No, Master Robert, not yet."

He posted himself at the front window, and five minutes later he saw the depot carriage approaching the house.

"She's coming, Jane!" he called out in excitement.

"I forgot to tell you that she's going to bring a visitor."

"How do you know?"

"Because I received a telegraph this morning," answered Jane.

"Did she say who was coming with her?"

"No; can you see anyone in the carriage?"

By this time the carriage had reached the entrance to the neat graveled path which led from the gate to the front door.

The door of the carriage was opened, and a man got out—a man of less than medium size.

Robert was surprised.

"Why, Jane" he said, "it's a gentleman!"

"Go out and meet them, Master Robert."

Robert opened the front door quickly, and hurried out. Meanwhile, the gentleman had helped Mrs. Frost out, and she was advancing up the walk, leaning on the arm of her companion. Mrs. Frost smiled, and turning to the man at her side, said, "This is my son Robert, James."

"Ah, indeed!" said the other with a smile. "He looks like a stout, strong boy."

"I wonder who he is," thought Robert. But he was soon to learn.

"Did you have a pleasant visit, mother?" he asked.

"Yes, very pleasant," answered his mother, with a meaning glance at her companion. "Robert, did you receive my telegram?"

"Yes, mother."

"You remember what I said about the great surprise?"

"Yes, mother."

"Well, this gentleman is the great surprise," she said, simpering.

By this time the whole party had entered the house.

"I don't understand you, mother," said the boy, but a sudden suspicion had entered his mind, and he was afraid that he did understand. He waited in painful suspense for his mother to speak.

"I have brought you a new father, Robert. This is my husband, Mr. Talbot."

"Oh, mother!" exclaimed Robert in a grief-stricken tone. "How could you marry again?"

Mrs. Talbot, for this was now her name, blushed and looked uncomfortable. Her husband looked angry.

"Really, young man," he said, "it seems to me that is a very improper way of addressing your mother."

For the first time Robert fixed his eyes upon this man whom he was so suddenly called upon to think of as—not his father, for he could not tolerate the thought—but as his mother's husband. As before mentioned, he was a small-sized man, with black hair and side whiskers, a thin face, aquiline nose, and an expression which, so far from attracting, actually repelled the boy. It was a baleful look, which suggested Mephistopheles, though this well-known character in Faust did not occur to Robert, for he had never heard of him. The boy was not accustomed to regard new acquaintances with repugnance, but this was the feeling with which he regarded Mr. Talbot.

"I hate you!" he blazed out in sudden fury. "Oh, mother, why did you marry him?"

This, it must be admitted, was not a very cordial welcome, and the boy's anger was reflected in the face of his new step-father, who bit his nether lip, and glared at our hero with wrathful eyes.

"You are an impudent cub!" he exclaimed. "I won't forget the way you have received me."

"Oh, James, forgive him!" pleaded the mother. "He doesn't realize what he says. He will get over it to-morrow."

"I shall never get over it, mother!" said Robert. "If you must marry again, why at least didn't you marry a gentleman?"

"I'll get even with you for this, young man!" exclaimed Talbot furiously.

Mrs. Talbot screamed and sat upon a couch. Robert seized his hat, and without waiting for dinner, dashed out of the house.