“I couldn’t help it, mother. I was driven away.”
“What do you mean by being driven away?”
It occurred to me that my mother knew nothing of what had happened since Waddie had called to deliver the fictitious message from his father; and I told her the whole story.
“If I know my father, he would kick me if I should get down on my knees to Waddie Wimpleton. Be that as it may, I won’t do it,” I added.
“I don’t want you to do it. If it has come to that, I think we had all better go to the poorhouse at once,” said my mother, with more spirit than I remembered to have seen her exhibit before; and I felt then that she was on my side.
“We won’t go to the poorhouse,” I replied, taking the hundred dollars from my wallet. “I made that to-day.”
My mother opened her eyes again, as she was in the habit of doing when astonished. Then she counted the money, and for an instant a smile overspread her pleasant face. To me it was the pleasantest face in all the world, and I had never before seen it saddened for so long a time as it had been that day.
“A hundred dollars!” exclaimed she, looking at me.
“Yes, mother; that is what Major Toppleton gave me for getting the dummy out of the water, and putting it on the track. It was a good job.”
“The major is liberal; and I only wish he and the colonel would be friends again.”