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Updated: May 18, 2025
Manning accompanied him to the cars, and in presence of several neighbors bade him an effusively affectionate farewell. So Frank was fairly started on his campaign. Erastus Tarbox kept a dry-goods store in the city of Newark, New Jersey. He was well to do, not so much because of his enterprise and skill as a merchant as because of his extreme poverty. Some people called it parsimony.
"I'm sorry," said Tarbox sincerely, and presently added, "Now, while you look up a picked gang of timber-men, I'll see if I can charter a little stern-wheel steamer, get that written permission from Madame Beausoleil to cut trees on her land, and so forth, and so forth. You'll hardly see me before bedtime again."
A crane was rigged, and whips rove, and bales and packages hauled up, several more men jumping below to assist. I was passing the buckets when Mr Tarbox came near me. "Keep an eye on Ali and his people," he said. "I have a notion this is their doing. For all they appear so active, they mean mischief, depend on it."
Nobody sighed for the gayeties and advantages of a great city when, these concerts being over, Lyddy would pass crisp seedcakes and raspberry shrub, doughnuts and cider, or hot popped corn and molasses candy. "But there, she can afford to," said aunt Hitty Tarbox; "she's pretty middlin' wealthy for Edgewood. And it's lucky she is, for she 'bout feeds that boy o' Croft's.
So Bill stepped forward as spokesman of the ruffianly element, and the immoral force gathered behind and backed him heavily. Tarbox, too, was a Saxon six-footer of thirty. But he had sagged one inch for want of self-respect. He had spoilt his color and dyed his moustache. He wore foxy-black pantaloons tucked into red-topped boots, with the name of the maker on a gilt shield.
"Hurrah, lads! we've beaten them!" shouted Ben Tarbox, giving a hearty hurrah, such as he would have raised on seeing the flag of an enemy come down in a battle at sea. "Let no one go beyond the stockades," cried Rolfe, "we know not what trick they may play us; let us not lose the advantage we have gained."
Mr Martin," to the second officer, "rig a pump overboard! Mr Tarbox, come aft!" The captain whispered a few words to him. The men obeyed all the orders promptly. A line was formed to pass the buckets as they were filled down the hold. The first officer and several men descended. The passengers joined the party to pass the buckets.
At length, with tottering knees, Mr. Tarbox rose and started silently for the door. He knew Claude's eyes were following. He heard him rise to his feet. He felt as though he would have given a thousand dollars if his legs would but last him through the doorway. But to crown all, St. Pierre met him just on the threshold, breaking, with unintelligent sympathy, into a broad, simple smile.
He read trouble; some trouble apart from the subject, in her quiet, intense eyes. "You know sombodie want buy dat?" she asked. "I'll find some one," he promptly replied. Then they talked a little about the proper price for it, and then were very still until Mr. Tarbox said: "I walked out here hoping to meet you." Madame Beausoleil looked slightly startled, and then bowed gravely.
Perry Purtett instantly led a stampede of half Dunderbunk along the railroad-track to learn who it was and all about it. All about it was, that Miss Damer was safe and not dangerously frozen, and that Wade and Tarbox had carried her up the hill to her mother at Peter Skerrett's. Missing the heroes in chief, Dunderbunk made a hero of Cap'n Ambuster's skiff.
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