CHAPTER XXXIV. THE TRANSFORMATION.

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Silas Morgan was one of the proudest men that the sun ever shone upon, and he would have been supremely happy if it had not been for two things, over which he could exercise no control.

One was that Mr. Warren and the sheriff intended to keep a sharp eye on him, and see that he did not squander any of the money he had earned by capturing the robber. The other was that Dan claimed recognition, and was determined to have it, too, in spite of the mean trick he had played upon his father.

When Silas arose the next morning the first thought that came into his mind was that he was a rich man. It excited him to such a degree that he could not eat any breakfast. He managed to drink a single cup of coffee, and then shouldered his gun and set out for Hobson's, to exhibit himself to the loafers who made the Half-way House their headquarters, while Joe hastened off to Mr. Hallet's to assist Tom and Bob.

Dan was left to pass the time as he pleased, and it suited him to sun himself on the bank of the river and bemoan his hard luck.

The first man Silas saw as he drew near to Hobson's place of business was Brierly, who dropped some hints that set him to thinking. After congratulating Silas on his good fortune, he inquired what use he intended to make of the reward when he got it.

"I ain't just made up my mind yet," was Silas Morgan's guarded reply. "I don't reckon I'm going to get it right away, 'cause old man Warren he's went and 'p'inted himself to be my guardeen, and I say that ain't right. I ketched that there bugglar without no help from anybody. The reward belongs to me, and I had oughter have it!"

To his utter astonishment Brierly promptly answered:

"No, you hadn't. You don't know how to take care of so much money, more'n I do, and it's the properest thing that somebody should look out for it. I tell you, Silas, I ain't the man I was when that Joe of your'n ordered me out of old man's Warren's wood lot. Do you know what I did the minute I got home yesterday? Well, I went down to the hotel and give the landlord the twenty-five dollars that I had cheated Mr. Brown out of. The landlord knows where he lives, and will send it to him."

"Joe tells me that Mr. Brown was a mighty scared man after you lost him in the woods," observed Silas.

"It was a mighty mean trick," declared Brierly; "but the fact of it was I was hard up for money, and didn't care much how I got it. I think different now. I've got a chance to be something better'n the lazy, ragged vagabone I have always been, and I am going to keep it. I am, for a fact! I have been waiting for it, and now that I have got it, I intend to make the most of it. I think I shall let the heft of my money stay where it is this winter, and get my grub and clothes by chopping wood for old man Warren. You want to look out for Hobson. He's got an eye on them dollars of your'n. He tried to shove lots of things onto me this morning, but I wouldn't take 'em."

Silas Morgan never expected to hear such counsel as this from Brierly, who, like himself, had always been in the habit of squandering his slim earnings as fast as he could get hold of them, and it excited a serious train of reflections in his mind. Being on his guard, Hobson's blandishments had no effect upon him.

"You're the luckiest man I ever heard of!" exclaimed the proprietor of the Half-way House, coming out from behind his counter and greeting Silas with great cordiality. "Warren's hired man told the stage driver all about it, and he told us. Want anything in my line this morning?"

"There's plenty of things I want," replied Silas; "but I ain't got a cent of money."

"No matter for that. Your credit is good."

"And what's more, I don't reckon I can get any of that reward under six weeks," continued Silas. "The court don't sit till then, you know, and I won't see the color of them dollars till the bugglars gets their sentence."

"But Joe's pay-day will come sooner than that," suggested Hobson.

"Well, now, look here," said Silas, slowly. "Don't you think it would be mighty mean for a man who is worth twenty-five hundred dollars to take the money his little boy makes by living up there alone in the woods? I do. And I've about made up my mind that I won't do it."

"Didn't you tell me that you thought the head of the family ought to have the handling of all the money that came into the house?" demanded Hobson, who was really astonished to hear such sentiments as these come from Silas Morgan.

"I did think so once, but I don't now," was the reply. "And furder'n that, I don't reckon I'll get my money all in a lump, like I thought I was going to, 'cause old man Warren he's gone and made himself my guardeen; and if I run in debt now, I'll have to give you an order on him for the money. Of course he would want to see the bill, and mebbe he'd take particular notice of the items that's into it."

"Do you mean to let him boss you around in that way?" exclaimed Hobson. "I thought you had more pluck than that. You are old enough to be your own master, if you are ever going to be."

"Well," said Silas, again, "there's one thing that I ain't master of, and I know it. That's money. Whenever I get a dollar bill in my hands, it burns me so't I have to drop it somewheres. I reckon I won't touch that reward this winter."

Hobson was so angry and disgusted that he could not say a word in reply. He went around behind his counter, and when Silas turned to go out, he informed him, in a savage tone of voice, that there was a little difference of a dollar and a half between them, and he would be glad to have him settle up then and there.

"Didn't I tell you when I first come in that I ain't got a cent to bless myself with?" reminded Silas. "But me and Dan are going to work for old man Warren this very afternoon, and I'll be around next Saturday, sure pop."

"I'll bear that in mind," said Hobson. "If you are not on hand, I shall ride down to your house to see what is the matter."

"That's always the way with them kind of fellows," said Brierly, in a low tone. "As long as you've got plenty of money, and spend it free with them, you're a first-rate chap; but the very minute you turn over a new leaf, and try to be honest and sober, they ain't got no use for you. I'm done with 'em."

Silas walked home in a brown study. The first thing he did after he crossed the threshold of his humble abode was to put his gun in its place over the door, and the second, to take an axe and whetstone out of the chimney corner. With these in his hand, he went out on the bank where Dan was still sunning himself.

"It's a long time since you seen this here little tool, ain't it?" said Silas, cheerfully; but there was something in the tone of his voice that made the boy tremble. "Looks kinder like it used to last winter, don't it? Now, sharpen it up so't you can drive it clear in to the eye every clip, and after dinner me and you will toddle down to old man Warren's, and ask him where he wants us to cut that wood; won't we, Dannie?"

"No, we won't," shouted Dan.

"Won't, eh?" said his father, calmly. "Well, them that don't work can't eat, and a boy that won't help himself when he's got a chance, can't get no dollar a day out of me when I go into that boat business. He won't be worth it, and Mr. Warren will think so too, when he hears of it. I reckon the best thing you can do is to put that there axe in shape and be ready to go with your pap after dinner."

When he had taken time to think about it, Dan came to the same conclusion. It cost him a struggle to do it, but when his father shouldered his axe and set out for Mr. Warren's house, Dan went with him.

The gentleman was glad to hear that Silas did not intend to remain idle simply because he had twenty-five hundred dollars in prospect, gave him some good advice, and told him where to go to cut the wood.

The road they followed to get to it took them close by the cabin of the young game-warden, whom they found busily engaged in setting things to rights.

Of course, it made Dan angry to see his brother surrounded by so many comforts, and in a position to make his money so easily, but there was no help for it.

His father was on Joe's side now; Dan could see that easily enough, and an attempt on his part to annoy the young game-warden in any way would bring upon him certain and speedy punishment.

After that, things went smoothly with Joe Morgan.

During that fall and winter Mr. Warren's imported game was never interfered with, and the reason was because all the worst poachers in the country, including Brierly and his gang, as well as Joe's own father, had given up the precarious business of market-shooting.

More than that, when Silas paid his bill at Hobson's, which he did, according to promise, he gave the loungers about the Halfway House to understand that he had taken Joe under his protection, and that any one who troubled either him or Mr. Warren's blue-headed birds, might expect to answer to him for it.

As Silas Morgan's prowess in battle was well known to every body for miles around, the market-shooters took him at his word, and kept away from Mr. Warren's wood-lot.

The savage, half-starved dogs in the settlement which had become so fond of hunting deer that they sometimes chased them on their own responsibility, were either chained up or given away, and the only hounds that gave tongue among the Summerdale hills during the winter were those which, like Tom Hallet's beagle, were trained to hunt foxes and coons.

While the pleasant weather continued, the young game-wardens searched the woods thoroughly, in the hope of finding the guns that the robbers had thrown away during their flight, but their efforts were unrewarded, and finally the snows of winter came and covered them up.

One day, just before Christmas, Mr. Warren's hired man came up, bringing, among other things, a few magazines and papers, a supply of provisions for Joe's use, some grain for the birds, and a long, shallow box which he placed carefully upon the table.

"Mr. Warren says that you will want to go home on Christmas, and there's a little something for your folks to eat," said he, handing Joe a nice fat turkey, all dressed and ready for the oven. "In that box you will find a present from St. Nick. Look at it, and see if you ain't glad you lost your rusty old single-barrel."

"I know what it is," replied Joe. "Is it mine to keep, or to use while I am acting as game-warden?"

"It is yours to keep. It is intended to replace the one the robbers stole from you."

The sight that met the boy's gaze when he unlocked the box made his eyes open wide with wonder and delight. Inside, was a breech-loader, with pistol-grip and all the necessary loading tools. Of course, it was a fine weapon. Mr. Warren never did things by halves.

It was the first Christmas present Joe had ever received.

Contrary to Mrs. Morgan's expectations, there was not the least trouble in the house over the young game-warden's money. She had enough and to spare, and so had Silas and Dan.

The former worked faithfully, because his ambition had been aroused, and Dan toiled steadily by his side, because he knew if he didn't, he would lose the dollar a day he was looking forward to. He got it, too.

The robbers were duly convicted and sentenced, and, when spring came, Silas had his twenty-five hundred dollars intact; or, to speak more correctly, somebody had it for him.

Silas did not know just where it was, whether in Mr. Warren's hands or the sheriff's, and indeed he did not care. All the bills he made in buying his boat, building his new house and fencing the piece of ground that Mr. Warren leased to him, were promptly met by that gentleman, and Silas highly elated at the prospect of having a paying business of his own, worked to such good purpose that when the guests began to arrive he was ready to serve them.

For the first time in his life, Dan Morgan looked as "spick and span as anybody" in his blue uniform, with a wide collar and sailor necktie, all bought with his own money, too; and he often walked up and down in front of the hotel to show himself to the people who were sitting on the veranda.

He proved to be a good boatman, and easily earned the dollar a day his father paid him for his services.

Joe held to his resolution, and entered the Bellville Academy when the spring term opened. He is there now; and he often says that he likes his school duties much better than those he was called on to perform while he was acting as Mr. Warren's game-warden.

THE END.

                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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