Percy Dixon's face flushed with resentment. "Do you know who you are talking to?" he demanded. "Yes," answered Jed coolly. "I am talking to a boy who thinks a great deal more of himself than any one else does." "I would punish you, but I don't want to dirty my hands with you. I'll tell my father, and he'll see that old Fogson flogs you." Jed smiled. He never meant to see Fogson again if he could help it, but he was too wise to impart his plans to Percy. At this moment his father came up to the gate, and as he opened it his attention was drawn to Jed. "Have you come here with any message for me?" he asked. "I have a note for you." "Give it to me." "Humph!" said the squire, casting his eye over the note. "Mr. Fogson asks me to call this evening. I will do so." "Very well, sir." "Father," interrupted Percy, "there is to be a play performed at Duncan this evening." "Is there?" "Yes; I saw a bill in the post-office. It's the 'Gold King,' I believe. May I go?" "I don't know," said the squire, hesitating. "Mr. Fogson wants me to call at the poorhouse." "If you don't care about going, I can drive mother and Alice over. You know you promised we should attend the next theatrical performance anywhere near." "If your mother and Alice would like to go I have no objection. You must drive carefully, and you can leave the horses in the hotel stable." "All right," said Percy joyfully. "Did you ever go to a theatre?" he asked Jed in a patronizing tone. "No." "I have been quite often," said Percy complacently. "But, of course, paupers can't attend amusements." "You may change your mind this evening," thought Jed. Jed went at once to the doctor's house. Dr. Redmond had just arrived from a round of visits. "Good morning, Jed," he said pleasantly. "Good morning, Dr. Redmond." "Do you want to see me?" "I have come to claim your promise," said Jed. "What is that?" "You promised me a suit of clothes when I got ready to leave the poorhouse." Dr. Redmond's face instantly assumed a look of interest. "And you have decided to take this important step?" he said. "Yes, doctor. I am tired of being called a pauper. I am sure I can earn my own living, and I mean to try it." "I don't know but you are right, Jed. At any rate, you have my best wishes. Come "I need them, no doubt, but I don't want to ask too much." "I think Mrs. Redmond can fit you out. And, by the way, I think you can manage a little supper. In what direction are you going?" "To Duncan." "Why there, in particular?" "I have a friend there." "Who is it?" "Harry Bertram, the actor." Dr. Redmond looked surprised. "How did you get acquainted with him?" Jed told the story. The incident of Fogson's assault on the sleeping actor and his defeat amused the doctor not a little. "He may be of service to you," he said. "At any rate, an actor sees a good deal of the world, and he may be able to give you some advice. Now put on your clothes and see what a transformation they will make." Mrs. Redmond took Jed up to a small chamber belonging to her absent son, and laid the clothing on the bed, advising Jed to go into the bathroom close by and take a good bath. When, half an hour or more later, he descended to the floor below, Dr. Redmond started in surprise. In place of the poorhouse drudge there stood before him a good-looking boy, attired in a brown suit, with clean linen and his hair neatly brushed. Dr. and Mrs. Redmond exchanged glances. "I wouldn't believe clothes made such a difference," exclaimed the doctor. "Nor I," chimed in his wife. The same idea came into the mind of each. Jed's personal appearance would do credit to any family, however exclusive. Yet he had been brought up in the Scranton poorhouse, and associated with paupers all his life. "I mustn't forget to give you your money," said the doctor, and he put a roll of bills into Jed's hand. "But here is five dollars!" said Jed. "It was only two you had of mine." "I am going to walk." "I am afraid you will get very tired," said Mrs. Redmond in a tone of sympathy. "No, ma'am, it is only five miles." "And five miles is a trifle to a strong boy like Jed." "Won't you wait till after supper?" asked Mrs. Redmond. "No, thank you. It would get me there too late." "Then I will make up some sandwiches for you. Your walk will make you hungry." Jed started with a small valise in which were packed some extra underclothing, and he carried in his hand a substantial lunch wrapped in paper. It was far better than the supper which he missed at the poorhouse. He was rather afraid of meeting some one whom he knew, particularly Percy Dixon, who he was sure would be delighted to thwart Jed had walked about half way when a man in a top buggy overtook him, and, stopping his horse, called out, "Is this the road to Duncan?" "Yes, sir." "Is it a straight road all the way?" "Not quite, sir. There are one or two turns." "I am sorry to hear it. I am not acquainted hereabouts, and I shouldn't like to lose my way. Are you going to Duncan?" "Yes, sir." "Then jump in, unless you prefer walking. With a good guide I shall be all right." "I would rather ride, and I will accept your invitation with pleasure." "Then we are both suited." Jed's new acquaintance was a stout man of middle age, with a prompt, alert manner, and looked like a business man. He had a quick, impulsive way with him. "Are you travelling?" he asked, noticing Jed's valise. "Yes, sir." "Going to see the world, eh?" "I'm going in search of a living, sir," answered Jed. "Got parents?" "No, sir. I'm alone in the world." "Well, you've got a tough job before you." "Yes, sir, I don't doubt it; but I am young and healthy, and I think I ought to be able to earn my living. Are you a business man?" "No, not exactly. Why do you ask?" "I thought you might have a place for me if you were." "I am not in the right sort of business for you, my lad. I am the manager of the Gold King Dramatic Company." "Then you are acquainted with Harry Bertram?" said Jed eagerly. "Yes, he is one of my actors. What do you know of Harry Bertram?" "He slept in the same room with me last night. He told me to come to Duncan, and he would see what he could do for me." "Ha, indeed! Well, Harry is a good fellow, and a good friend. He has one fault. He is a little too convivial." "Yes, sir; I thought so. Is he a good actor?" "Excellent in his line. He gets a very good salary, but I am afraid he doesn't save very much of it. Are you going to see the play this evening?" "Yes; Mr. Bertram thought he could get me in." "You won't need to ask him for a pass. Here is one;" and the manager scribbled on a leaf from his note-book Admit Bearer. Mordaunt. "Thank you, sir," said Jed, as he pocketed the pass. "I suppose you are Mr. Mordaunt?" "John Mordaunt, manager of the Gold King Company. In my humbler days I was known to my friends as Jack Mordaunt." By this time they had reached Duncan, and drove at once to the hotel. |