The Mystery of Monastery Farm | Page 5

thing made of gold; but what could we do without steel?"
They drove away from the Monastery and stopped in front of the farmhouse. Then Mr. Quintin, in quiet tones, asked: "Well, Mr. Sparrow, what do you think of Monastery Farm? Would you not like to live in that good old house? I am authorized to pay the right man seven hundred dollars a year, besides house rent, garden, milk, etc. What do you think of such a chance?"
"Mr. Quintin," replied the other, slowly, "I am afraid that it is too much of an undertaking. I fear that my experience is too limited. It would perhaps be better for me to look for a lighter job. I am a farmer, Mr. Quintin, and love the work. For four years I have managed my father's small farm, and have succeeded in making some money. But this work needs a man of more experience. Everything is on a larger scale, and I fear I am not experienced enough for so large an undertaking."
Mr. Quintin was an astute reader of men and had formed a favorable opinion of this modest young man. "How old are you?" he asked.
"I am twenty-six years old next month," was the reply.
"I'm afraid you are in danger of making a mistake. You may never have an opportunity like this again. The crops for the season are all in, and the two men on the place understand everything, and during this year you can familiarize yourself with the machinery, cattle, and all other necessary details. My advice to you is to take hold and feel that you are master of the situation as you soon will be."
Quintin, in fact, was so favorably impressed with this young man of twenty-six that Billy was finally persuaded to take charge of Monastery Farm, and in two weeks the new farmer and his young wife and child were comfortably located in the old farmhouse. And time had proven that Quintin had made no mistake in this selection. Each year had enhanced his opinion of the character and ability of Sparrow; the great farm had never been so productive, the cattle had never been more thrifty, and the revenue had never been as large.
Four years had passed, and well might Billy feel quite satisfied as he stood there in his shirt sleeves at the close of a certain day looking out over the farm. While he was thus engaged a young man, tall and slight in appearance and apparently not much more than twenty years of age, approached. He was lithe and seemingly agile; a thin, brown beard covered his face, which was cheery indeed, as was the smile which shone through two big brown eyes. His clothing was well worn, and upon his shoulders or back was something resembling a soldier's knapsack, while in his hand he carried a knotty stick. Halting at the gate, where Sparrow and Nancy and the boy stood, the stranger saluted them with a courteous bow. "Good evening," he said, "may I inquire how far it is to the next village?"
"Not more than two miles," was the answer.
"Is there a tavern in the village?" was next asked.
"O, yes, two of them," was Billy's response.
"I'm looking for work," said the stranger. "Do you think I shall be able to find something to do in the village?"
"What sort of work do you want?" queried Billy with a smile.
"Anything that is honest," was the prompt reply. "What I don't know I can learn. I want to settle down, at least for a while."
"Well, now," replied Billy, "you don't look as if you could do much on a farm. If you could, I might give you a job, at least for a week or two; only farmers or carpenters are needed through this part of the country. Could you plow corn or saw wood?"
"Well," was the response, "I don't think that I could plow corn, but I could saw wood, hoe in the garden, do chores, or feed stock."
As they talked the stranger unbuckled his knapsack, and set it down on the horse block.
"Where are you from?" asked Sparrow in a somewhat abrupt tone.
"I'm from--from--well, from every place, from New York last."
"Where are you headed for?"
"Well, sir, to be honest with you, I suppose you might call me a tramp. I'm hunting for a place to settle down in, as I seem to be without friends, so one place is as good as another for me."
It was now nearly dark, and the kindly heart of Nancy prompted her to ask him if he were hungry, to which he replied that he had eaten nothing since morning. "I had a good breakfast," he added, "at a place called Tipton."
"Why," ejaculated Billy, "Tipton is twenty-two miles away."
The good wife had slipped away, and presently returned,