“Thar they come now,” said Dan, who sat where he could look out of the door and up the road that led toward General Gordon’s plantation. “Thar they come, ridin’ them circus-hosses, and talkin’ an’ laughin’ as though they was the happiest fellers in the world. Everybody is happy ’ceptin’ us. If I had what one of them ponies is wuth, I wouldn’t have to wear no sich clothes as these yere,” added Dan, raising his arm and pulling his sleeve around so that he could see the gaping rent in the elbow. “If I could run one of them hosses off an’ sell it without being ketched, I’d do it to-night!”
“O, Daniel, don’t talk so,” said his mother quickly.
“An’ why not, I’d like to know?” retorted Dan. “Has them fellers any right to go a gollopin’ about the country on horseback, while I’ve got to hoof it all the while, an’ go barefoot too?”
“No, they hain’t,” said Godfrey. “They’ve got jest as much right to hoof it as any of us; an’ we’ve got the same right to ride on horseback that they has. We could do it onct, an’ we’ll do it agin! yes, we will, fur times is goin’ to change with us, an’ purty soon too. Now, don’t forget what I’m tellin’ ye; ye’ll see the eyes of the Gordons, an’ all the rest of the folks about here, a stickin’ out as big as that,” said Godfrey, flourishing his clenched hand over the table. “As big as that, I say, an’ afore many days, too—p’rhaps next week!”
“Whats goin’ to happen, pop?” asked Dan.
Godfrey glanced out at the door, and seeing that the boys, whose approach had started the family on this subject of conversation, were near at hand, put on a very wise look and winked knowingly at his son, who was obliged to restrain his curiosity for the present.
We must stop here long enough to say a word concerning the new-comers, as it is possible that we shall often meet them hereafter. Their names were Donald and Hubert Gordon, and they lived about a mile from the cabin in which Godfrey Evans and his family lived. And in what part of the world was that? It doesn’t much matter, for as there is more truth than fiction in some of the incidents we are about to describe, we do not care to go too much into details. It will be enough to say that the scene of our story is laid, and that all the actors therein lived, in one of our Southern States not very far from the Mississippi river. As our tale progresses some attentive reader, who has paid close attention to his history, may be able to locate the exact spot.
Two boys with more cheerful, happy dispositions than Don and Bert Gordon possessed, it would be hard to find anywhere. Don was sixteen years of age and his brother one year younger. The former was a robust, manly youth, who took great delight in all out-of-doors sports, and who, like many other healthy youngsters, had some glaring faults that were the occasion of no little anxiety to his father and mother. One was his great propensity for mischief. He was not fond of books or school, but any wild scheme for “fun,” as he called it, particularly if it involved some risk on the part of those who participated in it, would enlist his hearty sympathy and cooperation. This led to the most unpleasant episode in Don’s life. He was a student at a certain high school in a neighboring city, and being thrown into the company of uneasy spirits like himself, he very soon so far forgot the solemn promises he had made his mother before leaving home, that he assisted in laying plans for mischief which others carried into execution. After that but little urging was necessary to induce him to take part in them himself; and being at last detected in some act that had been strictly forbidden, he was promptly expelled from the school.
It was wonderful what a change that made in Don Gordon. He began to see that his conduct was not calculated to gain and hold the respect of those whose respect was worth having, and thus far his resolution to do better had been firmly adhered to. There is a turning point in everybody’s existence—a time when a decision made affects one’s whole after career—and who knows but this may have been the critical period in Don’s life? It was not the disgrace attending his expulsion from school that awoke him, for that had a different effect. It made him spiteful and rebellious. It was the treatment he received after he reached home. Fortunately his father and mother were the kindest parents in the world, and the friendly talk they had with Don on the evening of the day he arrived at home, opened the young man’s eyes; and every promise he made then had been faithfully kept. He and his brother were now prosecuting their studies at home under the direction of a private tutor who lived in the house with them.