The Young Musician; Or, Fighting His Way by Jr. Horatio Alger (i have read the book TXT) 📖

and the squire conferred together, but no satisfactory result was arrived at, except it wouldn't pay to pursue Philip, for two reasons—one, because they were quite uncertain in what direction he had gone; another, because, even if overtaken, they would have no authority to apprehend him, since he had been guilty of no crime.

Finally a bright idea came to the squire.

“Bring me out his fiddle,” he said to Frank. “I'm his guardian, and I will take care of it for him.”

“He carried it away with him,” said Frank. The squire's lower jaw fell. He was defeated at all points. “I guess we can't do nothing, under the circumstances, squire,” said Joe Tucker, scratching his head.

“I shall have to reflect upon it,” said Squire Pope, in a crestfallen tone.

“That's as good as a circus,” thought Frank, as his roguish glance followed the two baffled conspirators as they rode out of the yard. “It's a pity Phil was not here to enjoy it.”

At the end of the second day, Philip was some forty miles distant from Norton. He had not walked all the way, but had got a lift for a few miles from a tin-peddler, with whom he had a social chat.

It cannot be said that he was depressed, or that he regretted having left Norton, but he certainly did feel uncomfortable, and his discomfort sprang from a very homely cause.

To tell the plain truth, he was hungry. He had not had anything to eat for six hours except an apple, which he had picked up by the roadside, and during those six hours he had walked not far from fifteen miles.

“I believe I never was so hungry before,” thought Philip. “The question is, where is my supper to come from?”

Although he knew pretty well the state of his finances, he began to search his pockets to see if he could not somewhere find a stray dime, or, better still, a quarter, with which to purchase the meal of which he stood so much in need. But his search was unproductive, or, rather, it only resulted in the discovery of a battered cent.

“So that penny constitutes my whole fortune,” thought Philip.

There were two houses in sight, one on each side of the road.

Probably they would have given Philip a supper at either, but our hero's honest pride revolted at the idea of begging for a meal, much as he stood in need of it. He might as well be a pauper, as he justly reflected. So he pushed on.

Evidently he was drawing near a village, for houses began to appear at nearer intervals.

“Hello, my boy! Where are you traveling!” asked a hearty voice.

Philip turned round, and his glance rested on a stout young farmer, whose face, though very much sunburned, was pleasant and good-natured.

“I don't know,” answered Philip.

“Don't know?” was repeated in surprise.

“I am in search of work.”

“Oh, that's it! Are you a musician?” asked the young man, looking at the violin.

“Yes; a little of one.”

“Are you looking for a job at fiddling?” asked the young man.

“Yes, if I can find one,” answered Philip, smiling.

“Can you play dancing-music?”

“Yes.”

“Then I guess I can get you a job for this evening.”

“I wish you could,” said Philip hopefully, catching at a way out of his troubles.

“You see, there's to be a little dance in School-house Hall to-night,” said the farmer; “or there was to be one, but the fiddler's took sick, and we was afraid we'd have to give it up. Now, if you'll take his place, we can have it, after all.”

“I'll do it,” said Philip promptly.

“What'll you charge?”

“How much was the other one going to charge?”

“Five dollars. You see, he would have to come six miles.”

“I'll come for three dollars and my supper and lodging,” said Philip.

“All right! You shall have supper and lodging at our house. There it is, down that lane. Come right along, for supper must be on the table. After supper I'll go and tell the committee I've engaged you.”

Philip's spirits rose. Help had come from an unexpected quarter. He felt that a new career was opening before him.