CHAPTER XVIII. LEON MAKES UP HIS MIND.
"Your father couldn't have come here at a worse time, could he?" said Leon, at length.
He was disappointed rather than angry. His uncle had formed some very elaborate plans for his enjoyment, and also Frank's, and they had knocked them all on the head by running away from school.
It was Mr. Fuller's intention to cross the plains on horseback (the Pacific Railroad was not in existence at the time these incidents happened) and return by steamer.
The boys would have been delighted by a trip like this, and they might have gone had it not been for their one act of folly. Frank showed a disposition to smash things when he thought about it, but Leon felt more like crying.
"His coming here made no difference. He would have found out all about it, sooner or later, for your father would have written him full particulars. But I don't care!" said Frank, who continued to stride up and down the room, shaking his fists in the air. "I am going to clear out, and if you have any pluck at all, you will do the same."
Leon placed his elbows on his knees, fastened his eyes upon the floor, and made no immediate reply.
He had talked very glibly about leaving his comfortable home and going out into the world to make himself famous as a hunter and Indian-fighter, but in dreaming about it he had always skipped the preliminaries.
How he was going to leave home and make his way to that pleasant valley in the mountains in which he intended to build his cabin, he did not know, nor did he care to trouble himself about it.
Some boys, as we know, make great calculations, and have much to say about the fame they expect to win, when they are established in some business or profession and have plenty of money at their disposal, but they make no note of the long hours that must be spent in study and hard work before they can attain to the desired eminence.
So with Leon. He sometimes spent half the night going through imaginary fights with grizzly bears, Indians, and outlaws, and picturing to himself the delight that would be his when he was fairly settled in his mountain-home; but he did not like to dwell upon the thought that, before all this could be accomplished, he must sneak away from his father's house like a thief in the night, and make a long journey by rail and steam-boat before he would be anywhere within reach of his hunting-grounds.
But now these matters were brought squarely home to him, and it was high time he was bestowing some thought upon them.
"You don't seem to be very enthusiastic," said Frank, suddenly pausing in his walk and looking sharply at his cousin. "No longer ago than this morning you talked as though you were crazy to get away from home and become your own master!"
"I wish I could see that western country before I go there to live," said Leon. "I don't know anything about it."
"Well, how are you going to find out anything about it until you go there?" asked Frank. "And how are you going to get there unless you pack up and start off on your own hook? My father will not take you, or me either. How much money have you got in the bank?"
"Six hundred dollars," replied Leon.
"Whew!" whistled Frank, opening his eyes in great amazement. "That will take us to Independence with flying colors. After we get there we'll buy a couple of saddle-horses and a pack-mule, and then we'll be all right; we'll not ask favors of anybody."
"But how will we know which way to go?" asked Leon.
"Oh, we'll look for a wagon-train; that's the way the most of the emigrants do. If we can't find one, we'll start off by ourselves. We can't get lost, for the trails are as plain as the road in front of the house."
"But the Indians might find us," suggested Leon.
"What's the matter with you, anyhow?" demanded Frank sharply. "If you don't want to go, say so at once, and I'll start off by myself. The Indians won't bother us until we get where they are, will they? There are none along these trails of which I speak. Why, as early as 1856, travelling there was perfectly safe. Have you never heard of the two thousand Mormons who walked and pushed hand-carts all the way from Iowa City to Salt Lake? They were often attacked by wolves—we shouldn't mind the wolves, you know; a few fights with them would relieve the monotony of our journey—but the history of that expedition doesn't say that they ever saw an Indian."
When Leon heard this, he straightened up and began to take some interest in what his cousin was saying; but it is probable that his interest would have died away again very speedily if he had been told something of the history of those hand-cart expeditions.
It is thirteen hundred miles from Iowa City to Salt Lake Valley, and it requires fifteen weeks of constant travelling to accomplish the distance.
Of the first division of five hundred Mormons, who left Iowa City in July to trundle their hand-carts to Salt Lake, one hundred and twenty perished miserably before reaching their destination.
Their cattle starved or died from overwork, their provisions gave out, winter overtook them while they were still five hundred miles from the valley, and it was no uncommon thing for them to wake up in the morning and find from three to fifteen of their number cold in death.
Of the second company of six hundred, which left the Missouri in August, only four hundred and fifty reached the valley; and out of the whole number—two thousand—three hundred were starved, frozen, or devoured by wolves, and two hundred were maimed for life.
Frank knew all this, for he had read a full account of it; but it did not daunt him, for he believed that in some mysterious way he would be able to escape the perils that fell to the lot of other travellers on the plains.
"I'll not say a word to Leon about the dangers they encountered," soliloquized Frank, "for if I do, it will take all the pluck out of him. He hasn't even courage enough to run away from a tyrant of a father—I can see that plainly enough; but as I am determined to go myself, and he has money, while I have none to speak of, I must get him interested in the matter. Now, how am I going to do it? That's the question."
Frank, relapsing into silence, placed his hands behind his back and resumed his walk up and down the room, turning the question over in his mind. If he had only known it, there was no need that he should trouble himself about the matter, for that very night an incident happened that turned the scale in his favor.
While he was wondering what he could say that would induce his cousin to fall in with his wild scheme, the supper-bell rang.
The truants would have been glad of an excuse for disregarding the summons, but knowing that if they did not answer it immediately, somebody would come upstairs to see about it, they made a hasty toilet and descended to the dining room.
To their great relief, nothing was said or done to indicate that anything had gone wrong that day. Their fathers had had a settlement with them, and that was the end of the matter.
They were treated with as much consideration as they usually were, but Frank grew angry again when his father talked about the mines in which he was interested, and described the wonders which he expected to see during his absence.
Frank finished his supper as soon as he could, and then gave his cousin a wink, which the latter understood.
As they asked to be excused, and arose from the table, Mr. Parker turned from his brother-in-law, with whom he was conversing, and said to his son:
"Leon, don't go away to-night."
"No, sir," replied the boy. "Do you know what that means?" he added angrily, when he and his cousin were safe in their room again. "It means that my liberty is stopped—that I can't even go outside of the gate any more until father says the word."
"Well, you're a fool if you stand it," replied Frank. "Make up your mind to go with me, and then you can do as you please."
"My mind is made up!" exclaimed Leon, with a sudden burst of fury. "If my gun wasn't locked up, I'd start to-night; and if I once get away, I'll never set my foot in Eaton again."
"That gun is just what troubles me," replied Frank. "We can't get it until my father goes away, because he or some of the family are always in the sitting room. Does one key unlock every drawer in that bookcase?"
Leon replied that it did.
"Then we needn't worry. I have often seen the key left in the doors of the bookcase, and when we get ready to start, we'll have that gun out of there. All we've got to do is to watch our chance and slip into the library some night when the sitting room is empty. Where is your bank-book?"
"In mother's bureau."
"Have you got pluck enough to steal it out of there?"
"Yes, I have," answered Leon, with more spirit than his cousin had ever seen him exhibit before.
"Well, after you get it, will you go to the bank and draw your money?"
"Yes, I will. I'm not going to be deprived of all privileges and shut up as if I were a felon."
"That's the way to talk," said Frank, giving his cousin an approving slap on the back. "I was mistaken in you. You have some courage, after all."
Frank was satisfied now. If he could only keep his cousin in an angry mood, he was sure of money enough to defray his expenses to the plains. It was not so very difficult to do this, for events seemed to conspire to assist them.