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Updated: May 22, 2025
Charles Burnett, of Skaneateles, N. Y., in his dry goods and grocery store. I remained with Mr. Burnett one year and then, as he retired from business, I came to Oswego and entered the drug store of the late James Bickford, jr.
He quickly unloosed his beast, sprang upon his back, and galloped away without apparently giving a thought to the companions with whom he had camped out. When he was out of hearing Joe and Bickford shouted with laughter. "You see I was right," said Joe. "The man's a coward." "He seemed in a hurry to get away," said Joshua dryly. "He's the biggest humbug out."
"I thought you were going to stay up there all day," said Mr. Holden. "What were you about up there?" "That is my business," said Mrs. Bickford, shortly. The housekeeper was independent in her feelings, and, knowing that she could readily obtain another situation, did not choose to be browbeaten by Mr. Holden.
Bickford mournfully; "but he never'd give up but what he should die worth his fifty thousand dollars. I don't see now how I ever did get along them next few years without him; but there, I always managed to keep a pig, an' sister Eliza gave me my potatoes, and I made out somehow.
Finding a piece of a door hinge, he and some of the others endeavored to make their escape by digging a passage under the walls. A report of their proceedings reached the jailer, but, secure in the strength of the walls he did not believe it. This jailor would frequently jest with Bickford on the subject, asking him when he intended to make his escape.
After working two hours at the woodpile, Herbert was called in to tea. There was no great variety, Abner Holden not being a bountiful provider. But the bread was sweet and good, and the gingerbread fresh. Herbert's two hours of labor had given him a hearty appetite, and he made a good meal. Mrs. Bickford looked on approvingly. She was glad to see that our hero enjoyed his supper.
"Here, you just let me run up with 'em," he said kindly. "'T is hot in the sun to-day, an' you'll mind it risin' the hill. We'll stop as I fetch you back to-night, and you can go up comfortable an' walk the yard after sundown when it's cool, an' stay as long as you're a mind to. You seem sort of tired, aunt." "I don't know but what I will let you carry 'em," said Mrs. Bickford slowly.
Bickford obeyed, finding this exercise of authority a partial sop to his wounded feelings. Cap'n Sproul pendulumed dispiritedly to and fro in the little enclosure, gloomily and obstinately waiting for the disaster that his seaman's sense of impending trouble scented. Hiram Look was frankly and joyously enjoying a scene that revived his old circus memories.
"Well," said one of the trustees, with some venom, "Jabe Bickford is doin' a good deal for this town, one way and another, but he wants to remember that his gran'ther had to call on us for town aid, and that there wa'n't nary ever another Bickford that lived in this town or went out of it, except Jabe, that could get trusted for a barrel of flour.
He espied the two friends, and, abandoning his pursuit of Hogan, rolled angrily toward them. "Give it to him quick, Joe!" exclaimed Bickford. "He's making for us." Joe held his rifle with steady hand and took deliberate aim. It was well he did, for had he failed both he and Bickford would have been in great peril. His faithful rifle did good service.
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