CHAPTER XL
Nat’s Fortune.
“Well, sir, I have slept all night in these woods alone and there has no ghost been near to warn me that I had better quit my search and go home,” said Nat, sitting up on his bed of boughs and rubbing his eyes. “I reckon the ghosts all exist in that storekeeper’s imagination. Now I must take a good look at that rock again, eat some crackers and cheese and go down after that spade and pick-ax. By this time tomorrow I shall be a rich man.”
Nat had often wondered how much there was of that money that was hidden away, and he was always obliged to confess that he did not know. The neighbors all insisted that old man Nickerson was “powerful rich,” and acting upon this supposition he thought that about $5,000 would amply repay him for all his trouble. That would get him a nice education, and that was all that Nat asked for. He could then take care of himself.
Nat sprang off his bed, performed the hasty operation of washing his hands and face in the brook, and not having any towel to wipe upon, went up the bank toward the stone, shaking the water off his hands as he went. The rock was all there; he was certain on that point. If he had that spade and pick-ax in his hands he would soon know how much he was worth. The only trouble with him now was, to dig it up, reach St. Louis with it in some way or other and put it in the bank. Once there he would like to see Jonas and Caleb get their hands upon it.
The next thing was breakfast, and that was very soon dispatched, and then he tried to make himself a little more respectable to the persons who met him on the way by brushing off his clothes and bringing some pins into play to hide his rents. Then he stood up and looked at himself.
“They will show anyway, I don’t care how I pin them,” said Nat, at length. “Well, what’s the odds? Everyone knows how I lived there under that man’s roof, and I can’t be expected to look any better. Maybe I will look as well as the best of them one of these days.”
Nat’s first care was to hide Peleg’s gun and ammunition for fear that some one might come along and appropriate them to his own use. The whole thing was not worth two dollars, but still that would be something for Peleg to lose. He would go frantic if he found that the gun had been stolen. This done he was ready to leave his camp and he took the near way through the bushes; and when they had closed up behind him he could not help thinking how frightened Peleg was when he came through there. He neither saw nor heard anything alarming, and in a short time he climbed the fence and was out in the road. As luck would have it a team was going by, and the man pulled up his horses and offered him a ride.
“Going fur?” said he. “Well jump in.”
“Thank you,” said Nat “It’s about six miles to Manchester, and I believe it is cheaper riding than walking.”
“What are you doing down there in old man Nickerson’s?” asked the man. “Ain’t you the boy that lives with old man Keeler! I hear that old man Nickerson is dead.”