Ben Stone at Oakdale

by Morgan Scott

  CHAPTER IV.

  A BRAVE HEART.

  “There,” said the widow, when Ben finished eating and sat back,flushing as he realized he had left not a morsel before him, “now Iknow y’u feel better. It jest done me good to see you eat. It sort ofreminded me of the way Joel used to stow victuals away. He was amarster hand to eat, but it never seemed to do him no good. Even whenhe was in purty good health, which was seldom, he never could eat allhe wanted to without feelin’ oppressed arterwards an’ havin’ to laydown and rest. He was a good one at restin’,” she added, with a slightwhimsical touch.

  Once more Ben tried to find words to express his thanks, and once moreMrs. Jones checked him.

  “It ain’t been no trouble,” was her declaration, “an’ it was wuth agood deal to me to see you enjoy it so. What’re y’u doin’ with yourtrunk pulled out this way?”

  This question reminded him again of his determination to leave Oakdaledirectly; and, knowing the good woman had regarded the room as engagedby him for the time of the fall term of school, and also feeling thatto leave her thus and so deprive her of the rent money she expected toreceive for weeks to come would be a poor return for her kindness, hehesitated in confusion and reluctance to tell her the truth.

  “What’s the matter?” she asked, noting his manner. “Has anythinghappened? I noticed you was pale, an’ didn’t look jest well, when youcome in. Is there anything wrong?”

  “Yes, Mrs. Jones,” he forced himself to say; “everything is wrong withme.”

  “At the academy? Why,” she exclaimed, as he nodded in answer to herquestion, “I thought y’u passed the exammernation all right? Didn’ty’u?”

  “It’s not that; but I must leave school just the same.”

  “Land of goodness! Do tell! It can’t be possible!” Mrs. Jones wascompletely astounded and quite shocked.

  “It is not because I have failed in any of the requirements of theschool,” Ben hastened to say. “I can’t explain just why it is, Mrs.Jones. It’s a long story, and I don’t wish to tell it. But I have anenemy in the school. I didn’t know he was here; I saw him for the firsttime to-day.”

  This explanation did not satisfy her. “Why,” she said, “I was thinkin’y’u told me when y’u took this room that you didn’t know a livin’ soulin this place.”

  “I did tell you so, and I thought at the time that it was the truth;but since then I have found out I was mistaken. There is one fellow inthe school whom I know—and he knows me! He will make it impossible forme to attend school here.”

  “I don’t see how,” said the widow, greatly puzzled. “How can anybodymake y’u leave the school if y’u don’t want to?”

  “He hates me—he and his father, too. I am sure his father is a man ofinfluence here.”

  “Now I don’t want to be curi’s an’ pry inter nobody’s affairs,”declared the widow; “but I do think you’d better trust me an’ tell meabout this business. I don’t b’lieve you ever done no great wrong orbad thing to make y’u afraid of nobody. Anybody that can be good an’kind to a little lame boy, same as you’ve been to my Jimmy, ain’t bad.”

  “Perhaps if you knew all about it you would change your opinion of me,”said the boy a trifle huskily, for he was affected by her confidence inhim.

  She shook her head. “No I wouldn’t. I b’lieve you’re makin’ a mountainout of er molehill. You’re deescouraged, that’s what’s the matter. Butsomehow you don’t look like a boy that’s easy deescouraged an’ quick togive up. Now, you jest tell me who your enemy is. You ain’t got nomother here to advise y’u, an’ perhaps I can help y’u some.”

  Her insistent kindness prevailed upon him, and he yielded.

  “My enemy’s name is Bernard Hayden,” he said.

  “Land! You don’t tell! Why, he’s the son of Lemuel Hayden, who comehere an’ bought the limestone quarries over south of th’ lake. He ain’tbeen here a year yet, but he’s built buildin’s an’ run a branchrailroad from the main road to the quarries, an’ set things hummin’ ingreat shape. Next to Urian Eliot, who owns ’most all the mill businessin the place, he’s said to be the richest man in town.”

  “I knew it!” cried Ben; “I knew he would be a man of influence here. Iknew him in Farmington, the place where I was born. Mrs. Jones, if I donot leave the school and Oakdale at once, Lemuel Hayden will try tomake me do so.”

  He could not bring himself to disclose to her his fear that Mr. Haydenmight again seek to commit him to the State Reformatory. That secretwas the shame of his soul, and when he was gone from Oakdale he wascertain it would be a secret no longer. Already Bern Hayden had toldthe boys on the football field, and in a small place gossip of suchnature flies quickly.

  “Now let me talk to you a little,” said Mrs. Jones, sitting down on thetrunk, which threatened to collapse beneath her weight. “I stick to itthat I don’t b’lieve you ever done northing very bad, an’ if you’repoor that ain’t your fault. You’ve got a right to have an eddercation,jest the same as Lemuel Hayden’s boy has. Jest because, mebbe, you gotinter some foolish boy scrape an’ got this Hayden boy down on you, bey’u goin’ to let him keep y’u from gittin’ an eddercation, to make aman of y’u, an’ take you through the world?

  “As I said before, you don’t look like a boy to be scart or driv easy,an’ I shall be disapp’inted in you if y’u are. I ain’t goin’ to pryinter the affair; if y’u want to tell me about it some time, y’u can.But I’m goin’ to advise y’u to stay right here in this school an’ holdyour head up. Joel, my late departed, he alwus said it warn’t nodisgrace to be poor. That passage in the Bible that says it’s harderf’r a rich man to enter the kingdom of heaven then f’r a camel to passthrough the eye of a needle, alwus was a great conserlation to Joel.

  “An’ there’s rich people in this very town that should be ashamed tohold their heads up, knowin’, as ev’rybody does, how they come by theirriches; but to-day I’d ruther be a-earnin’ my daily bread by sweatin’at the wash-tub than to be in their shoes an’ have on my mind what theymust have on their minds. Ev’ry day I live I thank the Lord that he’sbeen so good to me an’ let me have so many pleasures an’ enjoyments.”

  Here she paused a moment to take breath, having digressed withoutintending to do so; and once more Ben found himself wondering at hersplendid courage and the cheerful heart she maintained in spite oftroubles and afflictions that might well have crushed and broken thespirit of an ordinary woman. She laughed in the face of misfortune, andshe positively refused to be trampled on by bitter fate.

  She was right in thinking Ben was not a weak boy nor one to be easilyfrightened; but had she known that over him hung the dark, chillingshadow of the reformatory, she could not have wondered at the course hehad contemplated pursuing, and she might have hesitated about so freelygiving him advice. Knowing nothing of this, however, she continued tourge him to reconsider his determination to give up school and leaveOakdale.

  “Now promise me that you’ll stay till y’u have to leave school,” sheentreated. “An’ I don’t b’lieve you’ll have to at all.”

  “Mrs. Jones, I’ll think it over,” he said. “I have almost decided totake your advice and stay, no matter what comes.”

  “That’s what I like to hear!” she laughed, rising from the trunk.“Don’t you never back down an’ run f’r nobody nor northin’. If Joel hedhad more of the stand-up-an’-stick-to-it sperrit, I’m sartin it would‘a’ been better f’r us all—but I ain’t complainin’, I ain’t complainin’.

  “Goodness! I’ve been spendin’ a lot of time here when I’ve jest gotloads of things to do before I can git a blessed wink of sleep thisnight. I’ve got to go. But you jest make up your mind to stick,enermies or no enermies. Good night.”

  She had gathered up the dishes and was going. Ben held the lamp, tolight her down the stairs, calling a grateful good night after her.

  For two hours, at least, he walked the floor of that poor
little room,fighting the inward battle with himself. Finally he paused, his handsclenched and his head thrown back. His square jaw seemed squarer andfirmer than ever, and the determination on his plain face transfiguredit.

  “I am going to stay, Bernard Hayden!” he said quietly, as if speakingface to face with his enemy. “Whatever happens, I’ll not show the whitefeather. Do your worst!” He felt better when he had fully settled onthis resolution.

  Opening his window, he looked out on the quiet village that seemedwinking sleepily and dreamily with its twinkling lights. Even as helifted his eyes toward the overcast sky, the pure white moon burstthrough a widening rift and poured its light like a benediction uponthe silent world. Still with his face upturned, his lips movingslightly, the boy knelt at the window, and the hush and peace of thenight filled his heart.

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