Facing the World | Page 2

sister, Sally. Sally is fourteen, just two years
younger than Joel. We live in a comfortable way, but we don't gorge ourselves on rich,
unhelthy food. No more at present. Yours to command,
"JOHN FOX."
Harry smiled more than once as he read this letter.
"Your relative isn't strong on spelling," remarked Mr. Howard, as he laid the letter on the
table.
"No, sir; but he appears to be strong on economy. It is a comfort to know that I shall not
be injured by 'rich, unhelthy food.'"
"When do you mean to start for Colebrook?" asked Mr. Howard.
"To-morrow morning. I have been looking at a railroad guide, and I find it will bring me
to Colebrook in time for supper."
"We should be glad to have you stay with us as long as possible, Harry."
"Thank you, Mr. Howard, I don't doubt that, but the struggle of life is before me, and I
may as well enter upon it at once."
At four o'clock in the afternoon the conductor of the train on which Harry was a
passenger called out Bolton.
Harry snatched up his carpetbag, and made his way to the door, for this was the place
where he was to take the stage for Colebrook.
Two other passengers got out at the same time. One was an elderly man, and the other a
young man of twenty-five. They appeared to be father and son, and, as Harry learned
afterward they were engaged in farming,
"Any passengers for Colebrook?" inquired the driver of the old-fashioned Concord stage,
which was drawn up beside the platform.
"There's Obed and me," said the old farmer.

"May I ride on the seat with you?" asked Harry of the driver.
"Sartain. Where are you going?"
"To Colebrook."
"Then this is your team."
Harry climbed up with a boy's activity, and sat down on the broad seat, congratulating
himself that he would have a chance to see the country, and breathe better air than those
confined inside.
Soon the driver sat down on the box beside him, and started the horses.
"You're a stranger, ain't you?" he remarked, with an inquisitive glance at his young
traveling companion.
"Yes; I've never been here before."
"Are you going to the tavern?"
"No; I'm going to the house of Mr. John Fox. Do you know him?"
"I reckon everybody round here knows John Fox."
"I don't know him. He is to be my guardian."
"Sho! You'll have a queer guardeen."
"Why queer?"
"The fact is, old John'll cheat you out of your eye teeth ef he gets a chance. He's about the
sharpest man round."
"He can't cheat me out of much," returned Harry, not especially reassured by this remark.
"What is the business of Mr. Fox?"
"Well, he's got some land, but he makes his livin' chiefly by tradin' hosses, auctioneerin',
and such like."
"What sort of a woman is Mrs. Fox?"
"She's a good match for the old man. She's about as mean as he is."
"Mr. Fox wrote me that he had two children."
"Yes, there's Joel--he's about your age. He's a chip of the old block--red-headed and
freckled, just like the old man. I don't believe Joel ever spent a cent in his life. He hangs
on to money as tight as ef his life depended on it."

"There's a girl, too, isn't there?"
"Yes, Sally. She looks like her ma, except she's red-headed like her pa."
"I'm glad to know something of the family, but I'm afraid I shan't enjoy myself very much
among the Foxes."
With such conversation Harry beguiled the way. On the whole, he enjoyed the ride. There
were hills and here and there the road ran through the woods. He could hear the singing
of birds, and, notwithstanding what he had heard he felt in good spirits.
At length the stage entered the village of Colebrook. It was a village of moderate
size--about two hundred houses being scattered over a tract half a mile square. Occupying
a central position was the tavern, a square, two-story building, with a piazza in front, on
which was congregated a number of villagers. After rapidly scanning them, the driver
said:
"Do you see that tall man over there leanin' against a post?"
"Yes."
"That's your guardeen! That's John Fox himself, as large as life, and just about as
homely."

CHAPTER II
THE DANGER SIGNAL
The man pointed out to Harry as his guardian was tall, loosely put together, with a sharp,
thin visage surrounded by a thicket of dull-red hair. He came forward as Harry jumped to
the ground after descending from the elevated perch, and said: "I reckon this is Harry
Vane?"
"That is my name, sir."
"Glad to see you. Just take your traps, and come along with me. Mrs.