Chapter 15
CHAPTER XV. IN WHICH LEWIS JARVIS ORIGINATES ANOTHER SCHEME FOR THE UNDOING OF WILL SUMMERS On the following evening Constable Brady and an assistant visited the woods about the ten-acre swamp-lot, but failed to find any trace of Ed Rixon or his associate in iniquity. So the matter arrested for the present. Whether Louis Jarvis had paid the hundred dollars or affected some kind of a compromise with Ed Rickson, Will Summers had no means of knowing. The matter had undoubtedly
been satisfactorily arranged between them, as young Jarvis maintained his usual bold front in public, which showed he felt no apprehension of an exposure. During the next ten days, evidence of the successful flooding of the swamp lot was so apparent that even Sam Travis hauled in his horns and said to all his friends that if there was a smarter boy in Northport than Will Summers, he'd like to make his acquaintance.
Will's silly attempt to fill up the bog with stones the preceding winter, which everybody who had heard about the matter supposed to be his object, had been generally forgotten. Now, however, when it began to be known that a pond had actually formed in the basin of the swamp lot, scores of curious townspeople tramped out to the spot to see the miracle with their own eyes.
There it was, sure enough. It was a fine pond of water and was daily growing deeper. Somebody carried the news to Joe Brixen. Ridiculous, was his comment. But I've just seen it with my own eyes,
protested his informant, rather glad than otherwise, to rub it in on the old fellow who was so generally disliked. Pooh, you can't tell me any such nonsense, grunted the man who had already burned his fingers with the scheme of originating an ice privilege.
All the same, as soon as his visitor had gone, he put on his old hat and started out to convince himself that the man had been jollying him. Needless to say, he found what he neither expected nor desired to see. It seems that Will Summers has the bulge on you, after all,
said a neighbor who had also come to inspect the marvel, rubbing his hands gleefully as if Rickson's takedown particularly pleased him. At first Joe Brixen was too much astonished to speak. He could hardly believe the evidence of his eyes. But after a while he began to realize that somehow nature had turned him down
in favor of the young firemen of the Northport cotton mills. Then he made a few marks that could hardly be reproduced with propriety in print, but they expressed his sentiments on the subject with unpolished directness. When Will first took hold of the scheme, the person who most persistently jeered him was Louis Jarvis.
What else can you expect from such a lobster? was his sneering comment. Then, as time went on, he, like others, forgot all about the matter. Now its revival as a successful issue jarred his feelings. He refused to believe all reports concerning the actual flooding of the swamp lot
until the Northport papers printed a news item on the subject. Then he went out to the site of the quaking bog himself, and what he saw did not make him feel happy. He comprehended that the young mechanic he despised so much had managed to solve a very clever problem. I never saw such a piece of luck, he muttered in a tone of disgust.
When that water freezes through, the pauper will have a regular ice harvest to dispose of. It's a shame how luck will play into the hands of the common people. Why, that beggar will think he's as good as I am, if I only knew some way to head him off. He was standing near the dam, and as he spoke an idea suddenly came into his head that pleased him greatly. "'It'll be just the thing,' he grinned malevolently.
"'By the great horn-spoon! I'll take him down a couple of pegs. It'll break him all up to have his great scheme go up in the air on the last moment. This is better than if I had landed him in jail, for he was bound to get clear of that in the end. But this? Well, this will pickle his hopes in great shape. It'll be a dead easy cinch for Ed Rickson to earn another twenty-five bones.
Then I guess it'll be time for me to find that note and hand it over to the governor. He'll do the rest. Nothing like rubbing it in good and hard when you get the chance. That afternoon, Lewis Jarvis took a train for a certain town thirty miles away, where he knew he should be able to find Ed Rickson.
As a matter of fact, Ed was on the lookout for him, for Lewis had agreed with him to settle his hundred-dollar obligation after paying him twenty-five dollars down, and the first of these payments was due now. I thought you wouldn't go back on me,
grinned young Rickson significantly when Lewis turned up at the appointed rendezvous, a roadhouse on the outskirts of town, where Rickson had secured employment congenial to his tastes. Why should I? answered Lewis, as if offended at the very idea of such a thing. He had an axe to grind, and it behooved him to keep on friendly terms with his former co-partner in guilt.
That's right. Why should you? said Rixon. I suppose you have brought the cash? he added eagerly. Sure thing, and Lewis produced twenty-five dollars in notes, which he handed over. You're a little man of your word, Lewis, said Ed, stowing the money away. Come inside and have a drink.
Lewis was not accustomed to intoxicating liquor, as the squire very properly frowned upon any such indulgence than his own son, whose sole form of dissipation was confined to the superior brand of imported cigarettes. But the boy was ashamed to refuse Rickson's invitation
lest Ed twit him as a milksop. Secretly he believed drinking was a manly art, for he had seen his father slightly under the influence of stimulants on several occasions, and the recollection of his parents' weakness in this respect stilled his own conscience.
So he stood up to the bar, and Ed poured out a couple of whiskeys. Here's luck, said Rickson, swallowing his like a veteran. Lewis's portion nearly strangled him, for it was a fiery compound and none of the best. Went the wrong way, did it? grinned Ed. Take some water.
Lewis presented a sad picture as he stood gasping over the dose, which had brought tears to his eyes. Indeed, it is always a sad picture to see a young man. It was far from worse in this case, for Louis Jarvis was only seventeen,
taking his first lessons in that curse of civilization, liquor-drinking. That it is the root of all evil is graphically illustrated in that piece of Oriental fiction called The Arabian Nights, which recites that a genie, or wicked spirit,
having obtained control over a certain young man, agreed to spare his life on condition that his dupe should commit one of three mortal sins, either to murder his father, curse his God, or get drunk. The young man chose what he considered the least of the three. He got drunk, with the result that on being taxed with his sin by his father,
he in a burst of fury killed him. Then, realizing his crime, he in despair cursed his Maker and the day he was born. Louis Jarvis soon recovered from the effects of the potation, and after a short conversation on sporting topics he broached the real subject of his visit. How is that for an idea? grinned Lewis, proud of the mean scheme he had devised.
I'll have him dead to rights, eh? You've got a great lead, Lewis, said Rickson with a sneer, so you want me to sneak into Northport again and work it for you? Yes. How much do I get?
Twenty-five dollars. Cash down? Yes, but you'll have to give me more time on what I owe you on the old account. Rixon considered a few minutes and then agreed to the proposal. When do you want it done?
Any time within a week will do. All right. Have another drink. And the hardened young fellow replenished the tumblers. Lewis looked at his portion and hesitated.
What's the matter? laughed Rixon banteringly. Can't you go two drinks? Sure, replied Lewis, flushing up as he grasped the glass. Maybe you'd better dilute it, grinned Ed tantalizingly.
Poo, cried Lewis, raising it to his chin. I'm no baby. All the same, the liquor gave him another coughing fit, and he was glad to take some water afterward. When he boarded the train for home half an hour later,
he was rather unsteady on his legs. End of chapter 15
