Chapter XVI The Train Boy by Jr. Horatio Alger
AN UNWELCOME APPEARANCE
"Good-evening, mamma!" said Stephen, airily, as he stepped over the threshold, and entered the room.
"Good-evening, Stephen," said Mrs. Palmer, soberly.
Stephen glanced hastily in all directions in search of Paul, and was glad to find no trace of him.
"Where's sister Grace?" he inquired.
"She has gone to bed, Stephen. She always goes to bed at eight o'clock."
"Has she spent that gold piece yet, that she was too selfish to lend to her poor brother?"
"That is a matter you can have no interest in, Stephen."
"None of my business, eh?"
"I didn't say that."
"You meant it, all the same. Where's Paul?"
"Do you know where he is? Have you come to tell me, Stephen?"
This question was asked with some appearance of anxiety, and Stephen at once jumped to the conclusion that all things had gone as he desired, and Paul had fallen into the trap which had been prepared for him.
"Why, you don't mean to say the kid isn't at home?" said Stephen, an irrepressible smile lighting up his face. "Well, that's a good one. Most likely he's in the station-house. Ho, ho!"
"And you laugh at the thought!" said Mrs. Palmer, indignantly.
"Oh, he ain't any better than other boys. You think he can't do anything wrong, but I'll bet you half a dollar he's been caught stealing or something."
"Wherever Paul is, I am sure he is not in the station-house," said Mrs. Palmer, positively.
"Don't be too sure of that," chuckled Stephen. "He's a sly one, Paul is. You wouldn't think butter'd melt in his mouth, but I know him better'n you do."
"Paul is a good son and brother, and always has been."
"And I suppose I am not," sneered Stephen.
"You must question your own conscience on that subject," said Mrs. Palmer.
"You are only my step-mother. You don't expect me to support you and the kids, do you?" asked Stephen, coarsely.
"No; I only desire that you will let us alone. We can get on without your help," returned the widow, with dignity.
"That is, if Paul remains all right; but you can't be sure of that. He may slip up any time, and become a boarder at the expense of the State."
"If you have come here to slander Paul, you can hardly expect that you will be welcome."
"Oh, well, I know that Paul is your idol. He can't do anything wrong. I shouldn't wonder if he was in a scrape now."
"What kind of a scrape? Don't leave me in suspense, Stephen."
Stephen Palmer was not over supplied with brains, and he was foolish enough to fall into the trap, and speak of what he could not be supposed to know.
"I heard a report," he said, "that Paul had been arrested for stealing in the Milwaukee train to-day."
"Where did you get your information?" asked Mrs. Palmer.
"She doesn't believe it," said Stephen to himself. "Never mind; she may have to before long."
"I don't care to mention where I heard it," he answered.
"It is not true."
"Perhaps it isn't; but if that's the case, why doesn't he come home?"
"He may have been detained by business."
"Oh, yes; very important business!" chuckled Stephen. "I guess he'll find it very important and pressing."
"Is that what you have come to tell me, Stephen Palmer?"
"No, not exactly. The fact is, Mrs. Palmer, I am hard up."
"I believe you always are."
"Right you are. The fact is, I am very unlucky. Nothing seems to go right with me. I have a hard struggle to get along."
"There's one remedy you might find, Stephen," said the widow, sternly.
"What is that?"
"Work."
"Work!" repeated Stephen, angrily. "And where am I to find work? Haven't I tried to get something to do everywhere?"
"I don't know; but from what I know of you, I presume not. A man who really wants to work won't go so long without it as you have."
"Much you know about it. I tell you everything is crowded. How much money do you think I have got left?"
"How should I know?"
"That's all," said Stephen, drawing a quarter from his vest-pocket and flipping it up in the air. "Mrs. Palmer, you must help me."
"If you are hungry Stephen, though it is a late hour, I will give you something to eat."
"Thank you! I don't want any of your cold victuals," sneered the vagabond.
"Then I can do nothing for you."
"Yes, you can. Give me the little girl's gold piece. You needn't pretend that she has spent it, for I know better."
"Whether that is the case or not, I decline to let you have it."
"Look here, widow," said Stephen, his brow darkening, "I ain't going to be trifled with or bluffed off; not this time. When down here before I wasn't quite myself, and that young puppy, Paul, thought it safe to bully me. Things are different now. I am perfectly sober, and I know what I'm about. So I tell you once more I want that money, and I advise you to get it for me, or else give me as much out of your own pocket."
"Surely you are not in earnest, Stephen Palmer. You won't persist in this unmanly demand?"
"Then you don't know me. Paul is not here to defend you now, and I advise you not to make me angry."
Stephen rose from his seat, and advanced toward his step-mother with an ugly look on his mean, evil-looking face.
Mrs. Palmer started back, and uttered just one word: "Paul!"
At the call, Paul, who had found it difficult to restrain himself from rushing into the room sooner, sprang through the door, and, his young face flaming with just indignation, confronted his step-brother.