"Have you finished breakfast already, Harry?" asked Mrs. Gilbert, asHarry rose hurriedly from the table and reached for his hat, which hungon a nail especially appropriated to it.
"Yes, mother. I don't want to be late for the store. Saturday is alwaysa busy day."
"It is a long day for you, Harry. You have to stay till nine o'clock inthe evening."
"I am always glad to have Saturday come, for then I can get my money," replied Harry, laughing. "Well, good-by, mother – I'm off."
"What should I do without him?" said Mrs. Gilbert to herself, as Harrydashed out of the yard on the way to Mead's grocery store, where he hadbeen employed for six months.
That would have been a difficult question to answer. Mrs. Gilbert wasthe widow of a sea captain, who had sailed from the port of Boston threeyears before, and never since been heard of.
It was supposed that the vessel was lost with all hands, but how thedisaster occurred, or when, was a mystery that seemed never likely to besolved.
Captain Gilbert had left no property except the small cottage, which wasmortgaged for half its value, and a small sum of money in the savingsbank, which, by this time, was all expended for the necessaries oflife.
Fortunately for the widow, about the time this sum gave out Harryobtained a situation at Mead's grocery store, with a salary of fourdollars a week. This he regularly paid to his mother, and, with thelittle she herself was able to earn, they lived comfortably. It was hardwork for Harry, but he enjoyed it, for he was an active boy, and it wasa source of great satisfaction to him that he was able to help hismother so materially.
He was now fifteen years old, about the average height for a boy of thatage, with a strong frame and a bright, cheerful manner that made him ageneral favorite.
The part of his duty which he liked best was to drive the store wagonfor the delivery of goods to customers. Most boys of his age like todrive a horse, and Harry was no exception to the rule.
When he reached the store Mr. Mead, his employer, said:
"Harness up the horse as soon as you can, Harry. There are some goods tobe carried out."
"All right, sir," answered Harry, cheerfully, and made his way to thestable, which stood in the rear of the store. It was but a few minutesbefore he was loaded up and was on his way.
He had called at several places and left the greater part of the goods, when he found himself in a narrow road, scarcely wider than a lane. Whyit had been made so narrow was unaccountable, for there was certainlyland enough to be had, and that of little value, which could have beenused. It was probably owing to a want of foresight on the part of theroad commissioners.
Just at the narrowest part of the road Harry saw approaching him an openbuggy of rather a pretentious character, driven by a schoolmate, PhilipRoss, the son of Colonel Ross, a wealthy resident of the village.
I have said that Philip was, or rather had been, a schoolmate of Harry. I cannot call him a friend. Philip was of a haughty, arrogant temper. The horse and buggy he drove were his own – that is, they had been givenhim by his father on his last birthday – and he was proud of them, notwithout some reason, for the buggy was a handsome one, and the horse wasspirited and of fine appearance.
As soon as Harry saw Philip approaching, he proceeded to turn his horseto one side of the road.
Philip, however, made no such move, but kept in the middle.
"Isn't he going to turn out?" thought Harry. "How does he expect to getby?"
"Why don't you turn out, Philip?" he called out.
"Turn out yourself!" retorted Philip, haughtily.
"That's what I'm doing," said Harry, rather provoked.
"Then turn out more!" said the young gentleman, arrogantly.
"I have turned out my share," said Harry, stopping his horse. "Do youexpect to keep right on in the middle of the road?"
"I shall if I choose," said Philip, unpleasantly; but he, too, reined uphis horse, so that the two teams stood facing each other.
Harry shrugged his shoulders, and asked, temperately:
"Then how do you expect to get by?"
"I want you to turn out as far as you can," he said authoritatively.
Harry was provoked, and not without reason.
"I have turned out my share, and shan't turn out another inch," he said, firmly. "You must be a fool to expect it."
"Do you mean to call me a fool?" demanded Philip, his eyes flashing.
"You certainly act like one."
"You'd better take care how you talk, you beggar!" exclaimed Philip, furiously.
"I'm no more a beggar than you are, Philip Ross!"
"Well, you are nothing but a working boy, at any rate."
"What if I am?" replied Harry. "I've got just as much right on this roadas you."
"I'm a gentleman," asserted Philip, angrily.
"Well, you don't act like one; you'd better turn out pretty quick, for Iam in a hurry and can't wait."
"Then turn out more."
"I shan't do it," said Harry, with spirit; "and no one but you would beunreasonable enough to ask me to do it."
"Then you'll have to wait," said Philip, settling himself backprovokingly in his seat, and eyeing Harry with a look of disdain.
