CHAPTER III.

RALPH MAKES A FRIEND.

"You'll catch cold if you stand around in this wind," remarked Ralph to Horace Kelsey, "especially as you are not used to it."

"That is true," returned the young man. "I wish I had some place where I might dry myself."

"You can go over to our cottage, if you wish. Mother is at home, and she will willingly let you dry yourself at the kitchen fire. I would lend you one of my suits, but I imagine it wouldn't be large enough."

"Hardly," laughed the young man. "Do you live far from here?"

"No, sir; that is the cottage right there. See, my mother is in the garden, looking this way."

"Thanks, I'll take up with your kind offer. I am beginning to get chilled in spite of the sunshine."

Saying that he would be back later, Horace Kelsey left the bridge and took the path leading to the cottage. Ralph saw him speak to his mother, and a moment later both passed into the cottage.

It was now drawing toward noon, and the people began to cross the bridge in both directions, on their way to dinner. Each one either paid a cent or passed over a ticket, sixty-five of which could be had for fifty cents. At a quarter to one the same passengers began to go back to their work, and this was kept up for half an hour, at the end of which the young bridge tender had collected twenty-one cents and forty-three tickets.

Several horns now began to blow from both Big Silver and Silver Lakes, showing that the boats wished to pass through the draw. The bridge, which had been closed by Ralph immediately after the rescue of Horace Kelsey, was opened for their accommodation.

While the young bridge tender was waiting for the last vessel to clear the draw the young man from New York came back from the cottage, bringing with him the lunch Mrs. Nelson usually brought herself. There was no time for dinner during the middle of the day, and so the family had their principal meal at night, when the draw was closed for the day, and Bob Sanderson went on to collect the toll.

"Your mother gave me the lunch," said Horace Kelsey, as he handed the basket to Ralph. "I told her I was coming down to see you."

"Is your clothing dry?"

"Oh, yes. She was kind enough to lend me some which had belonged to your father, and built up an extra hot fire to dry my own. She also pressed out my suit, as you can see. Your mother is a very accommodating lady."

Horace Kelsey did not add that he had paid Mrs. Nelson liberally for her kindness, for he was not one to brag in that direction. Nevertheless, Ralph heard of it later on.

In the basket were several sandwiches of cold corned beef and half-a-dozen peaches. Ralph offered one of the peaches to the young man, which he took, and both sat down to eat.

"You will find a tavern up the main road, a two minutes' walk from here," began the youth, thinking that Horace Kelsey might wish for something more substantial in the way of food.

"Thank you, but your mother supplied me with a very good lunch while I was waiting, Ralph," returned the young man. "Don't mind me, but go ahead and enjoy your lunch."

Ralph at once set to, for he was hungry. His companion looked up the lake for a moment in silence, and then went on:

"I came down here to reward you, Ralph," he said, hesitatingly.

"Reward me? What for, Mr. Kelsey?"

"For saving my life."

"I don't think I did as much as that. Anybody could have pulled you from the water."

"They might not have been as quick as you were. I feel I owe you something for your prompt aid."

"I don't want anything, sir. I would have done as much for any one."

"I do not doubt it, and it is to your credit to say so. But I feel I ought to do something for you. Will you accept this—not as payment for what was done, for I could not pay for that in this way—but as a gift from a friend?"

And Horace Kelsey drew from his vest pocket a new and crisp twenty-dollar bill.

"I don't see as I ought to take it," hesitated Ralph.

"But you will. Here, don't let it blow overboard," and the young man from New York thrust it into Ralph's hand, directly between a sandwich he was holding.

"Indeed I won't let it blow away. I thank you ver—hallo! you have made a big mistake."

"How?"

"This is a twenty-dollar bill."

"I see no mistake about that," and Horace Kelsey smiled quietly.

"You don't mean to say you meant to give me twenty dollars?"

"I did. It is little enough for such a service."

"It's too much. I thought it was a one-dollar bill, sir."

"I would not be mean enough to offer you only a dollar, Ralph. A man isn't pulled from a watery grave, as the poets call it, every day."

"I don't think I ought to take all this money," returned the young bridge tender slowly.

"I do, so put it into your pocket and say no more about it."

Ralph continued to argue the point, but was finally persuaded to place the bill in his private purse.

"Your mother has been telling me a little about your family affairs," went on Horace Kelsey. "It's a pity you haven't a clear title to this land about here."

"We have a clear enough title if only we can find the papers in this case," returned Ralph, promptly.

"I understand a syndicate from Chambersburgh are thinking of locating a big shoe factory here. If they do that, Westville will have a boom."

"It would have boomed long ago if it hadn't been for Squire Paget and some others. They hold their land so high and keep the taxes on the hat factory up so, the manufacturers are scared away."

"That is true, especially when other places donate them land free and exempt them from all taxation for from five to ten years."

"Do they do that?"

"Certainly, and in many cases it pays very well, for the factories employ hundreds of hands, who receive fair wages, and that is spent in the place where it is earned."

"It's a wonder that shoe factory would come here, if such inducements are offered elsewhere," said Ralph, thoughtfully.

"I understand several men, including Squire Paget and the postmaster of this place, have received stock in the concern. I do not know much about the deal. I only heard it talked over at the hotel."

"Where are they going to locate the factory?"

"Somewhere along the water front, I believe."

"Then it will be around here!" cried Ralph. "That is our land over there," he pointed with his hand. "I wish we could prove our title to it."

"So do I, Ralph, and I wish I could help you. You haven't any idea who had the papers last?"

"No, sir."

"Too bad. I would advertise for them, and even offer a reward for them."

"I will," returned Ralph, quickly. "I'll use this twenty dollars you have given me for that very purpose."

Horace Kelsey remained with Ralph the best part of an hour longer, and then started for a walk through the village, stating that he would call on Bob Sanderson and see how the boat repairing was progressing.

When he was out of sight, Ralph pulled the twenty-dollar bill from his purse to make sure that he had not been dreaming. But there was the money true enough. There was a grease spot on one corner of the bill, left by the butter on the sandwich, but this did no harm.

"Hallo, there, Ralph Nelson, counting your fortune!" cried a rude voice from the shore, and looking up, Ralph saw a loudly-dressed youth approaching. He hastily slipped the twenty-dollar bill into his pocket.