JERRY'S INVESTMENT

New Zealand Tablet, 18 May 1911, Page 895

JERRY'S INVESTMENT

/> Jerry Dodson took a buck-skin purse from the pocket of his overalls, and carefully counted its contents into his horny hand. Ten golden twenties shone brightly in the sunlight. ' . V| Jerry looked at them with a hard, bitter- feeling at his: young heart. Those twenties meant six. years of hard work; six years of getting up at four o'clock in the morning, of driving mule-teams, walking behind a harrow over rough clods, and sweltering long days on a harvester. ;/ : The money for his work ever since he was sixteen, and less than what one year's wages should have come to. . He had tried to be so saving,' never drawing a cent, save, for clothes or going to town Saturday night with the rest of the boys, for a good time. He had built such hopes on that accumulating money; he meant to buy a team and rent a piece of land, and this fall" lie had planned to do it. 'There was the Webster placegrain-land and pasture, with a bit of alfalfa everything for a hard-working man to succeed, and he had the?:first chance for it, too, but now he must go on being nothing but a hired man after all.' "Colonel McClatchy had failed—his colonel, whom he believed to be as good as a bank. It was hard to believe it, looking over the fine fields of the great ranch and the almost palatial home. Yet, it was all gone for mortgages and debts, and the three hundred dollars was Jerry's share of the wreck. There was a bitterness in his heart as he looked at the great; house,' with its b r *autiful lawns, flowers, and orchards looking as bright in the sunlight as if no blighting ruin had come. .f;.">J':They' always had everything,' thought Jerry resentfully; c money, clothes, horses, carriages, and company, and plenty to travel round every place. What business had they going on spending "other folks' money they'd worked hard for? They never worked —just went along having a good time, though,' he added, 'I won't say but what the old man's acted square; he's turned over everything. What's the use of trying to save anything? Why "shouldn't I have a good time?and I will! I'll go to-the city and trot it 'high until every red cent of this money is gone; that I will.' # -.-.• ,- -; . He thrust the bag back into his pocket and'looked over the-pasture, his young face set in lines of determination. Suddenly a quick, alert look came into his eyes he gazed intently for a few minutes.

‘I wonder what’s the matter with that black ' cow over by the pond,’ he thought; - ‘ she’s acting queer, away off that way from the others. Like as not'that-calf of .hers is "in trouble, pesky thing. I’ll have to go and see,’ and Jerry started with his long - swinging stride across the grassy slough-land, for an* animal never appealed to him in vain. " v-' - ■ As he walked along, the Colonel’s favorite mare lifted her head with a whinny. Jerry ' patted- her, and wondered who would buy the horse; then almost unconsciously a feeling of pity stole into his heart for the Colonel Himself. What must this ruin be to the old man ! 'He thought how generous and good he had always been, with his purse ever open to those who needed his aid* and now to lose everything. . ’ ' ‘ ’ ; "> ‘I declare ’tis rough, ’thought Jerry, * plagucy rough! But the old man’s been too careless,’ he continued, • his resentment still stirring; but, then, he’s old. If he were twenty years younger I’ll bet he’d get it all back. -.There’s the women folks, too. I guess, after all, there’s a good many ,in a worse boat than me.’ . Jerry found that the little calf had gone along a sheep track on the edge of the pond until the bank rose steeply. Here it stopped and lowed while the cow-mother lowed above, him. Jerry turned the small animal, thinking at the same time that it was the ; biggest fool-calf he had ever seen. ' • As he turned leisurely to walk back, he hoard a strange sound, and paused to listen, then he walked quickly toward a clump of willows not far from the pond. He pushed in among them, then stopped in embarrassment. 1 Why—why—Miss Jeannie,’ he -stammered, ‘w — what’s the —matter?’ _ ■ -V: ' -•••••;.• • A young girl was lying on the soft salt grass, sobbing as if her heart would break. She looked up, startled ‘ Oh, Jerry!’ she cried. ¥y Anybody been a misusing- you, Miss Jeannie ?’.-■ ho cried, his hard hands involuntarily clinching. If - they have, it’s me that will have a settling.’• * . • Z He looked so fierce that Jeannie McClatchy smiled a wan smile. . ' , ‘No,’ she said, ‘ it’s only my foolishness. There, I’m better now. It’s only that papa has to sell my piano, and oh, it’s so hard to give it up.’ ~ ~: Her chin quivered again, while Jerry looked as if some fresh calamity had come to him.;' .. , : - Ob, come now,’ said, ‘ it can’t be so bad as that; your papa’ll fix it somehow.’ .. v The girl shook her head. ‘No,’ she said, ‘he’s going to sell everything that will bring money. ... I’d been .thinking I might give music lessons and help him. tie’s going to rent the Webster place, and begin over right here.’ s Jerry could hardly speak for astonishment. The Colonel living where he had planned to live! Miss Jeannie, too-1 • ... .. ;■ v ■* , ‘Well, well,’ he said, for want of something better, ; that’s all-fired'rough!’ ‘lf you only knew how badly papa feels. It has nearly killed him. You see, Jerry, in the beginning he signed some notes for a friend and had to pay them, then some speculations failed, and hard years came, and now it : s this . ‘5--‘.Yes,’ said Jerry, ‘ it’s harder on the Colonel than anybody else. Now cheer up, Miss Jeannie, do cheer up.’ ‘l’m better now. I shan’t make a baby of myself again. I’ve had my little weep, and now I’m going to ba brave like papa’s daughter ought to.’ . , It was the day of the McClatchv auction. The great house was full to overflowing. People felt the velvet carpets and tried the springs of the satin chairs. Jerry was out in the hall talking crops. He had stood - over the sale of every colt and calf on the place, for two days, and now his keen ears caught every word the auctioneer; said in the parlor ‘I offer vou now this piano, ladies and gentlemen. Look ,at it well, note the make, see, polish, listen to the tone,’ and he ran Ins fingers rapidly over the keyboard, where so often Miss Jeannie played. ‘Let me tell you, the chance to get a piano like this cheap comes not twice in a lifetime. Do I hear a bid?’ ‘Fifty dollars,’., said a stout farmer. . , ‘Seventy-five,’ called ; a v voice from the doorway, nervously. . Then it went up by fives and tons to one hundred and forty. The auctioneer used more olnouence. The stout' farmer had invested too largely' outside: he would go no higher to please the women folks; the little woman had long been silent. ' - ....’• -a ; ..y ‘Goinggoing. A seven hundred dollar piano selling for a song. Do I hoar more? Going, going—! Sold to the gentleman in the hall.’ Jerry had bought the piano. He , came forward and paid for his purchase, then slipped away from the jokes and merriment of his friends ‘ Oh. Jerrv,’ said Jeannie when she met him on v the porch, ‘I bad rather you had it than -anybody else. It was so good of you.’ . •, ' , ‘I don’t want it.’ answered Jerry stoutly. : ‘ :< It’s yours. I’m thinking the Colonel and I will want a-Uttle music, when we come in tired of evenings from working on the Webster place. I’ve got the mare, too, Miss Jeannie, and the best of-the voting cattle, and your pa will iust start ever again, with this pair otystout hands to help him.’