It was not till I had reached home again and had jubilantly retailed the story to my father, that I began to understand how there might be yet another aspect to the matter. Instead of receiving it with a hearty laugh and a “Good for Tom,” as I had anticipated, he shook his head and said:
“I’m sorry to hear it. Tom made a mistake that time. That Yetmore should be made to give up the barrel of oil is proper enough; but what right has Tom to appropriate to himself the duties of judge, jury and executive officer? It is just such cases as this that earn for the American people the reputation of a nation without respect for law. No. Tom meant well, I know, but in my opinion he made a mistake all the same.”
“I never thought of it in that light,” said I; “so it is just as well, probably, that Tom didn’t let me into the secret beforehand, because I’m afraid I should have been only too ready to help if he had asked me.”
“Yes, it is just as well you were not given the choice, I expect,” replied my father, smiling. “I’m glad Tom had the sense to take the whole responsibility on his own shoulders. Does he expect that Yetmore will be content to let the matter rest where it is?”
“He seems to think so; though he is such a heedless fellow that it wouldn’t bother him much if he thought otherwise.”
“Well, in my opinion he will do well to keep his eyes open. As I told you before, I think Yetmore’s natural caution would prompt him to keep within the law, but it is not impossible now, Tom having set him the example—for one such transgression of the law is apt to breed another—that he will think himself justified in resorting to lawless measures in his turn; especially as he will have that fellow, Long John, jogging his elbow and whispering evil counsels in his ear all the time.”
How correct my father was in his presumption; how Long John did devise a scheme of retaliation; and how Joe and I inadvertently got our fingers into the pie, I shall have to relate in due course.
But though my father disapproved of Tom’s action, that fact did not lessen his desire to help his friend when I had related to him how Tom had indeed spent all his savings on Mrs. Murphy and her family.
“What a good-hearted, harum-scarum fellow he is!” exclaimed my father. “He knows—in fact, no one knows better—that there is a possible fortune waiting for him somewhere up here on Lincoln; he saves up all winter so that he may be free to go and hunt for it in the spring; yet at the first note of distress, away he runs and tumbles all his savings into Mrs. Murphy’s lap, who, when all is said and done, has no real claim upon him, thus taking the risk of being stranded in town while Long John goes off and cuts him out. What are we going to do about it, boys? What can you suggest?”
“It would certainly be a shame,” said Joe, “if Tom, by his act of charity, should put himself out of the running in the search for that vein of galena. Yet he will surely do so if he can’t raise that money. And even if he should raise it, he might be late in getting it, in which case Long John would get the start of him.”