Jed, the Poorhouse Boy

by Jr. Horatio Alger

"Then that settles it. Squire Dixon, what shall I do?"

"I think, Mr. Fogson, you had better go at once to Duncan—I will lend you my buggy—and secure the boy, tying him hand and foot, if necessary, and take him back to the poorhouse."

Simeon Fogson smiled grimly. It was an errand that suited him.

"I will do so," he said, "and I will lose no time."

"Don't ask for Jed Gilman," suggested Percy. "Ask for Ralph Clinton. That's the name he goes by now."

Mr. Fogson drew out a stub of a lead-pencil and put down this name. In twenty minutes he was on his way, and an hour later he drew up in front of the hotel in Duncan.

He left the buggy and entered the public room of the inn.

"Is there such a boy as Ralph Clinton here?" he asked the clerk.

"Yes; do you want to see him?"