Bernard Brooks' Adventures: The Experience of a Plucky Boy. Horatio Alger Jr.
store is close by.”
“Wait a moment. You will want some money. Here is a dollar.”
He drew a dollar bill from his vest pocket and handed it to Bernard, who returned in five minutes with a small bottle.
The gentleman, removing the cork, applied the bottle to his nose. He sneezed, but seemed revived.
“I feel better,” he said. “Go and take a room for me and help me up to it.”
“What name shall I put down on the register?”
“William Penrose.”
“Where from?”
“Buffalo.”
Bernard did as requested. Mr. Penrose was assigned to a room on the second floor. Then Bernard, taking out some silver, offered it to his companion.
“The hartshorn only cost ten cents,” he said. “Here is the change.”
“Keep it,” said Mr. Penrose.
“Thank you, sir. It will be very acceptable. Now I will bid you good-by.”
“No, don’t go. Stay with me, unless you have to go home. I may need you.”
“I have no home, sir. I can stay as well as not.”
“Then go down and put your name on the register. There is another bed in the room. You can sleep there.”
CHAPTER V. MR. PENROSE’S SECRET
Bernard was by no means loath to accept the invitation he had received. His stock of ready money was very small, and would soon be exhausted. While he remained with Mr. Penrose he would be taken care of.
“I shall be glad to accept your invitation, Mr. Penrose,” he said.
“I hope I am not interfering with any of your plans.”
“No, sir. I have not formed any plans yet.”
“That is singular,” observed Mr. Penrose, with a mild curiosity.
“I haven’t had time to form any plans yet,” explained Bernard. “I only started in for myself this morning.”
“You excite my curiosity. Do you mind throwing light on the mystery?”
“Not at all, sir. I ran away this morning from a boarding school in the next town.”
“You ran away from school? That doesn’t sound well.”
“I dare say not, but if you knew Mr. Ezekiel Snowdon, you wouldn’t be surprised at my running away.”
“Ezekiel Snowdon? Why, I once went to school to a teacher of that name. Describe him.”
Bernard did so.
“It must be the same man.”
“Where was he teaching?”
“He came to Springfield, Illinois, and was engaged to teach. That was my native town, and I was a lad of thirteen at the time.”
“Did you like him?”
“No; I think he was the most unpopular teacher we ever had. He taught just six weeks. At the end of that time the bigger boys formed a combination and rode him on a rail out of town. He was an ignoramus, and was continually flogging the boys. If he couldn’t find a pretext for punishment he invented one. But he received his deserts. After his ride on a rail he never ventured to come back to Springfield.” Bernard laughed. “I think it must be the same man,” he said.
“I have often wondered what the old fellow was doing,” said Mr. Penrose. “It seems he has stuck to the business of a pedagogue. Now tell me your experience with him.”
This Bernard did. He explained that Mr. Snowdon was now at the head of the Snowdon Institute in the neighboring town of Doncaster.
“Has he many pupils?”
“About eight or ten, but they are boarding pupils.”
“Who placed you there?”
“My guardian, Mr. Cornelius McCracken of New York. I think Mr. Snowdon’s low terms influenced him in the selection of the school. I soon found out that he wasn’t much of a scholar. Besides, he is a tyrant, and tried to bully me.
“He has a son, Septimus, who is a very disagreeable boy, and is continually instigating his father to punish the boys. They are mostly small, and unable to resist injustice. Finally he tackled me, and threatened to horsewhip me.”
“You naturally objected,” said Mr. Penrose, with a smile.
“Yes; I had no idea of allowing myself to be treated in that way. Yesterday I made up my mind to run away. I stopped over night in the barn, and meant to get off early this morning, but was surprised by Septimus, who let his father know where I was. Soon the old man appeared with a horsewhip, and climbed up to the scaffold where I was sleeping on the hay. I woke up in time, and managed to escape, carrying off the ladder, and leaving Mr. Snowdon a prisoner in the hay loft.”
“That was clever in you. And then you took leg bail?”
“Yes, sir. In ten or fifteen minutes I overtook your carriage, and seeing that you were in trouble, I climbed in and took the reins.”
“Luckily for me. The horse might have run away with me.”
“It was lucky for me, also, that I fell in with you,” added Bernard.
“I have a great mind to tell you a secret,” said Mr. Penrose, after a pause.
“It will be safe with me, sir.”
He was not surprised to hear that his companion had a secret, and was curious to learn what it might be.
“I ought to feel considerable sympathy with you,” went on Mr. Penrose, “for I am placed in a similar position. I, too, am running away.”
Bernard looked startled. Could it be, he asked himself, that his companion was a fugitive from justice? He could hardly believe it, for Mr. Penrose’s appearance was very much in his favor.
His companion went on with a smile, “Don’t suppose that I am a defaulter or a thief on my way to Canada,” he said. “My case is a peculiar one. I happen to be a rich man.”
“I don’t see why you should run away, then.”
“I have a cousin, an unprincipled man, who is anxious to get possession of my property.”
“But how can he do it? The law will protect you in your rights.”
“It ought to, certainly, but my cousin is a cunning schemer. He’s trying to have me adjudged insane, and get an appointment as my guardian. Do you think I look insane?”
“No, sir.”
“I am as sane as my cousin himself, but I am subject to occasional fits, such as the one I had just now. If I were seen in one of these I might be thought to be of unsound mind.”
“Are you often taken that way, Mr. Penrose?”
“Not often, but I have been subject occasionally to fits since I was a boy. My cousin cunningly waited till I was suffering an attack, when he hastily summoned two quacks, and got them to certify that I was insane. I got over the fit before the certificate was made out, but I realized my danger, and I fled from Buffalo, fearing that I might be taken to an asylum during the next seizure.”
“What a scoundrel your cousin must be! He must be worse than Mr. Snowdon.”
“He is a villain of a different type, and certainly quite as bad. In order to enjoy my property, he would coolly doom me to life imprisonment in a madhouse.”
“Where are you intending to go, Mr. Penrose?”
“I may take a voyage somewhere. On the sea I should be safe.”
“Do you think your cousin is in pursuit of you?”
“Probably he is.”
“What is his name?”
“Lawrence