Jed, the Poorhouse Boy. Alger Horatio Jr.

any rate they didn't starve them."

      "Old Fogson is saving money to the town—so father says."

      "Wait till the end of the year. You'll find the town will have just as much to pay. What they save off the food they will put into their own pockets."

      "What are you talking about?" asked Mrs. Fogson suspiciously.

      Jed did not have to reply, for Percy took offense at what he rightly judged to be a piece of impertinence.

      "Mrs. Fogson," he said, "what we are talking about is no concern of yours."

      A bright red spot showed itself in either cheek of Mrs. Fogson, and she would have annihilated the speaker if she could; but she was politic, and remembered that Percy was the son of the overseer.

      "I didn't mean any offense, Master Percy," she said. "It was simply a playful remark on my part."

      "I'm glad to hear it," responded Percy. "You didn't look very playful."

      Squire Dixon was conversing with Mr. Fogson, and didn't hear this little conversation.

      "I am just digging my potatoes," said Fogson deferentially. "I have some excellent Jackson whites. I will send you round a bushel to try."

      "You are very kind, Mr. Fogson," said the squire, smiling urbanely. "I shall appreciate them, you may be sure. Mr. Avery never would have made me such an offer. It is clear to me that you are the right man in the right place."

      "I am proud to hear you say so, Squire Dixon. With such an Overseer of the Poor as you are, I am sure the interests of the town will be safe."

      "Thank you! Good-by."

      "Come again soon, squire," said Mrs. Fogson with a frosty smile. She did not extend a similar invitation to Percy, who had wounded her pride by his unceremonious words.

      "They are very worthy people, Percy," said the squire as they rode away.

      "Do you think so, father? I don't admire your taste."

      "My son, I am surprised at you," but in his secret heart the squire agreed with Percy.

      Soon after Squire Dixon and Percy left the poorhouse dinner was served. It answered very well the description given by Jed. Though the boy was hungry, he found it almost impossible to eat his portion, scanty though it was.

      "Turning up your nose at your dinner as usual!" said Mrs. Fogson sharply. "If you don't like it you can get another boarding-house."

      "I think I shall," answered Jed.

      "What do you mean by that?" demanded Mrs. Fogson quickly.

      "If the board doesn't improve I shall dry up and blow away," returned Jed.

      Mrs. Fogson sniffed and let the matter drop.

      Towards the close of the afternoon, as Jed was splitting wood in the yard, his attention was drawn to a runaway horse which was speeding down the road at breakneck speed, while a lady's terrified face was visible looking vainly around in search of help.

      Jed dropped his axe, ran to the bend of the road, and dashed out, waving a branch which he picked up by the roadside. The horse slowed down, and Jed, seizing the opportunity, ran to his head, seized him by the bridle, and brought him to a permanent stop.

      "How brave you are!" said the lady. "Will you jump into the buggy and drive me to my home? I don't dare to trust myself alone with the horse again."

      Jed did as desired, and at the end of the ride Mrs. Redmond (she was the wife of Dr. Redmond) gave him a dollar, accompanying it with hearty thanks.

      "I suppose Fogson will try to get this dollar away from me," thought Jed, "but he won't succeed."

      CHAPTER IV.

      AN EXCITING CONTEST

      Jed was not mistaken.

      When he returned to the poorhouse supper was ready, and Mr. and Mrs. Fogson were waiting for him with sour and angry faces.

      "Where have you been?" demanded Fogson.

      "Absent on business," announced Jed coolly.

      "Don't you know that your business is to stay here and work?"

      "I have been working all day."

      "No, you haven't. You have been to the village."

      "I had a good reason for going."

      "Why didn't you ask permission of me or Mrs. Fogson?"

      "Because there wasn't time."

      "You are two minutes late for supper. I've a good mind to let you go without," said Mrs. Fogson.

      "It wouldn't be much of a loss," answered Jed, not looking much alarmed.

      "You are getting more and more impudent every day. Why do you say there wasn't time to ask permission to leave your work?"

      "Because the runaway horse wouldn't stop while I was asking."

      "What runaway horse?" demanded Fogson with sudden interest.

      "While I was splitting wood I saw Dr. Redmond's wife being run away with. She looked awfully frightened. I ran out to the bend and stopped the horse. Then she wanted me to drive her home, for she was afraid he would run off again."

      "Is that so? Well, of course that makes a difference. Did she give you anything?"

      "Now it's coming," thought Jed.

      "Yes," he answered.

      "How much?" asked Mr. Fogson with a greedy look.

      "A dollar."

      "Quite handsome, on my word. Well, hand it over."

      "What?" ejaculated Jed.

      "Give me the dollar!" said Fogson in a peremptory tone.

      "The dollar is mine."

      "You are a pauper. You can't hold any property. It's against the law."

      "Is it? Who told you so?"

      "No matter who told me so. I hope I understand the law."

      "I hope I understand my rights."

      "Boy, this is trifling. You'd better not make me any trouble, or you will find yourself in a bad box."

      "What do you want to do with the dollar?"

      "None of your business! I shall keep it."

      "I have no doubt you will if you get it, but it is mine," said Jed firmly.

      "Mrs. Fogson," said her husband solemnly, "did you ever hear of such perverseness?"

      "No. The boy is about the worst I ever see."

      "Mr. Fogson," said Jed, "when Mr. Avery was here I had money given me several times, though never as much as this. He never thought of asking me for it, but always allowed me to spend it for myself."

      "Mr. Avery and I are two different persons," remarked Mr. Fogson with asperity.

      "You are right, there," said Jed, in hearty concurrence with the speaker.

      "And he was very unwise to let you keep the money. If it was five cents, now, I wouldn't mind," continued Mr. Fogson with noteworthy liberality. "But a dollar! You couldn't be trusted to spend a sum like that properly at your age."

      "I am almost sixteen," said Jed significantly.

      "No matter if you are. You are still a mere boy. But I don't propose to waste any more words. Hand over that money!"

      Jed felt that the critical moment had come. He must submit to a flagrant piece of injustice or resist.

      He determined to resist.

      He met Fogson's glance firmly and resolutely, and uttered but two words: "I won't!"

      "Did you ever hear such impudence, Mrs. Fogson?" asked her husband, his face becoming red and mottled in his excitement.

      "No, Simeon, I didn't!" ejaculated Mrs. Fogson.

      "What shall I do?"

      "Thrash