It was Mr. Huxter's intention to set John to work as soon as possible; but it so happened that the shoe business, in which he was engaged, had been for some time unusually dull, and had not yet revived. To this circumstance our hero was indebted for the comparative freedom which for a few days he was permitted to enjoy. During that time he was waiting anxiously for the expected letter from Squire Selwyn. He wished to know whether his stepmother was resolutely determined upon her present course with regard to himself, before he decided to take the matter into his own hands, and help himself in his own way. Upon one thing he was fully resolved,—not to remain much longer a member of Mr. Huxter's household.

As the letter was to come to the Milbank post-office, on the fourth afternoon he walked over to that village. This time he was not fortunate enough to meet David Wallace, and therefore had a long and tiresome walk.

"Is there a letter here for John Oakley?" he inquired of the postmaster.

"John Oakley," said the old official, looking under his glasses. "Do you live round here?"

"I am passing a short time in the neighborhood," said John.

The postmaster took some time to adjust his spectacles, and a longer time in looking over the letters. John waited anxiously, fearing that he had taken the long walk for nothing. But he was destined to be more fortunate.

"You said your name was John Oakley?" repeated the official, balancing a letter in his hand.

"Yes," said John, quickly.

"Then here's a letter for you. It looks like Squire Selwyn's writing."

"It is from him," said John.

"Then you know him?"

"Yes," said John, mechanically, impatiently tearing open the letter.

"He's a good lawyer, the squire is," said the postmaster. "He was here only last week."

"Yes, I saw him."

This was the letter which John received:—

"My dear young Friend:—I called upon your stepmother yesterday in the afternoon, hoping to induce her to adopt different measures with regard to yourself. I regret to say that I failed utterly in my mission. She will not permit you to go to college, declaring that you have already a sufficient education. Nor will she remove you from the house of Mr. Huxter, though I represented that he was not a proper person to have the charge of you.

"We had some conversation about the missing will. I was a little surprised by her suggesting that I should search the house for it. I was glad of the opportunity, and proceeded to do so. I made the search as thorough as possible, but discovered nothing. I still believe, however, that the will is in existence, unless it has been destroyed since your father's death.

"I hardly know what to advise under the circumstances. If you should leave Mr. Huxter, I advise you to seek your aunt at Wilton, and I shall be glad to hear from you when you have arrived there. If you should need money, do not hesitate to apply to me, remembering that I am your father's friend."

"Your true friend,

James Selwyn."

"P. S. I enclose a few lines from Sam."

There was another sheet inside the envelope, on which John recognized easily Sam's familiar handwriting. He was very glad to hear from Sam, for whom he felt a warm attachment.

Here is Sam's letter:—

"Dear John:—I have been missing you awfully. I couldn't think what had become of you till father told me he had seen you at Milbank. So you are in the spider's clutches, you poor innocent fly? A nice time you must have of it with old Huxter. I declare I've no patience with Mrs. Oakley, when I think of the way she has treated you. I can't do anything to her; but I'll take it out in tricks on Ben. By the way, your amiable stepbrother has got a new friend,—a flashy young man from New York, who sports a lot of bogus jewelry, and smokes from ten to a dozen cigars a day, and spends his time in lounging about the billiard and bar room. He isn't doing Ben any good. They play billiards a good deal, and he tells Ben stories about the city, which I expect will make Ben want to go there. Do you think Mrs. Oakley will let him?

"You've no idea how I miss you, old fellow. All the hard parts in Virgil and Xenophon come to me now. I don't enjoy studying half so much now that you are away. If I were you, I'd give old Huxter the slip some fine morning. I only wish you could come and stay at our house. Wouldn't it be jolly? I know father would like it; but I suppose people would talk, and Mrs. Oakley would make a fuss.

"Well, it's time for me to go to studying. Keep up a stiff upper lip, and never say die. Things will be sure to come round. One thing, you must be sure to write to me as soon as you can. Tell me all about how you're getting along with the monstrum horrendum informe. Of course I mean old Huxter."

"Your affectionate friend,

Sam Selwyn."

John felt much better after reading these letters. He felt that, whatever might be the hardships of his present lot, he had two good friends who sympathized with him. He read over the lawyer's letter once more. Though he didn't expressly advise him to leave Mr. Huxter, it was evident that he expected him to do so. John himself had no doubts on that point. He felt that he would be willing anywhere else to work for his living; but to remain in his present position was insupportable. He could feel neither regard nor respect for Mr. Huxter. He witnessed daily with indignation the manner in which he treated his poor wife, whom he sincerely pitied. But it was not his business to interfere between man and wife. No, he could not stay any longer in such a house. To-morrow morning he would rise early, and, before Mr. Huxter woke, bid a silent farewell to Jackson, and start on his journey to Wilton.

When he reached his boarding-place, it was already four o'clock in the afternoon. Mr. Huxter had come home just drunk enough to be ugly. He had inquired of his wife where John was. She couldn't tell him.

"What business has he to leave the house without permission?" he growled.

"He is old enough for that, surely," said Mrs. Huxter.

"Shut up, Mrs. Huxter! What do you know about it?" said her husband. "The boy needs a good flogging."

"I'm sure he's a very good boy," said Mrs. Huxter. "He is quite a young gentleman."

"He is altogether too much of a young gentleman," said Mr. Huxter. "He puts on too many airs for me."

"You are not just to him, Mr. Huxter."

"How many times, Mrs. Huxter, must I request you to mind your own business?" said her husband, coarsely. "Do you know what I am going to do?"

"What?" asked his wife, with apprehension.

"I'm going to cut a stout stick out in the orchard, and give the young gentleman a lesson when he returns. That's what I'm going to do."

"Oh don't, Mr. Huxter!" implored his wife, clasping his arm.

But Mr. Huxter was in one of his ugly fits, and shaking off his wife's grasp, went out into the orchard, taking out his jack-knife. He returned in a few minutes with a thick stick in his hand, which boded no good to poor John.

Mrs. Huxter turned pale with apprehension, and earnestly hoped John would not return until her husband had forgotten his resolution. But this was not to be. She heard a step upon the threshold, and John entered by the back way. Mr. Huxter tightened the grasp upon his stick, and smiled grimly.

"Where've you been, Oakley?" he demanded, abruptly.

"I have been over to Milbank," said John, quietly, not knowing the intention of the questioner.

"What did you go over to Milbank for?" asked Huxter.

"I didn't know there was any objection to my going," said John.

"What business had you to go without asking my leave?"

"I didn't suppose there was any need of my asking you whether I could go or not."

"You're an impudent young rascal!" exclaimed Mr. Huxter.

"What reason have you for calling me that?" asked John, calmly. He saw that Mr. Huxter had been drinking, and did not wish to get into a dispute with him.

"You needn't think you can put on any of your airs here. I won't stand it!" vociferated Huxter, gradually working himself up into a rage.

"I don't want to put on any airs, Mr. Huxter," said John.

"Do you mean to contradict me?" demanded Huxter, glaring at John.

"You had better go out," said Mrs. Huxter, in a low voice.

"He shan't go out! He shall stay," roared Huxter. "I'll thank you not to interfere, Mrs. Huxter. I'm going to flog the young jackanape."

He seized his stick and made a rush at John. Our hero, knowing he could not cope with him, and besides not wishing to get into a fight in the presence of Mrs. Huxter, dodged the angry man. This made Mr. Huxter, whose blood was now up, all the more eager to get hold of him. John, however, succeeded in eluding him once more. This time, however, Mr. Huxter was unlucky. Mrs. Huxter had been washing, and the tub full of quite warm water had been temporarily placed upon the floor of the kitchen. Mr. Huxter, whose motions were not over-steady, slipped, and, falling backward, sat down in the tub.

He gave a yell of pain, and John, taking advantage of the accident, ran out of the door. But Mr. Huxter was in no condition to follow him. The water was not hot enough to scald him; but it certainly made him feel very uncomfortable.

"The young rascal has killed me," he groaned. "I'm scalded to death, and I suppose you're glad of it, Mrs. Huxter. You put the tub there on purpose."

Mr. Huxter took off his clothes and went to bed, swearing at his poor wife, who he declared was in league with John.

"There's no help for it now," said John to himself. "I must leave this house to-morrow."