The Mystery of Monastery Farm | Page 5

York had given him to be
delivered to that gentleman.
"Ah!" exclaimed Mr. Quintin as he read, "this is from one of our best
boys; you know him, eh?"
"Yes, sir."
"Ah, Charlie is as true as steel, Charlie is."
"He says better words of you, Mr. Quintin," remarked Billy.
"Indeed! What does he say?"
"He says you are true as gold."
"Well, I doubt whether that is better. That is Charlie's way of showing
his appreciation. But steel is better than gold. I don't know of any
useful 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,