The Victim | Page 3

are made of. That's why it's worth while to
send you. I've seen that since you could toddle about the house and
stamp your feet when things didn't suit you. Now, listen to me. I've
made a vow to God that you shall have as good a chance as any man to
make your way to the top. We're going to be the greatest nation in the
world. I saw it in the red flash of guns that day at New Orleans as I lay
there in the trench and watched the long lines of Red Coats go down
before us. Just a lot of raw recruits with old flintlocks! The men who
charged us, the picked veterans of England's grand army. But we cut
'em to pieces, Boy! I fired a cannon loaded with grape shot that mowed
a lane straight through 'em. It must have killed two hundred men. They
burned our Capitol at Washington and the Federalist traitors at Hartford
were firin' on us in the rear, but Old Hickory showed the world that we
could lick England with one hand tied behind our back. And we did it.
We drove 'em like sheep--drove 'em into the sea.
"There's but one name on every lip in this country now, Boy, and that's
Old Hickory. He'd be President next time--but for one thing,--just one
thing--he didn't have a chance to learn when he was a boy. He's not

educated."
The brother paused, and a dreamy look came into his eyes. "We may
make him President anyhow. But if he'd been educated--there wouldn't
be any if or and about it. Washington and Jefferson and Madison
belong to the rich and powerful class. Jackson is a yeoman like your
father. But he'd be President. Boy, if he'd been educated! Nothing could
stop him. Don't you see this is your country? This is a poor man's world.
All you have to do is to train your mind. You've got to do this--you
understand--you've got to do it--"
The man paused suddenly and looked into the Boy's wondering eyes.
He had forgotten the child's rebellion. The young pioneer of the
wilderness was talking to himself. Again he had seen a vision.
He seized the Boy's arms:
"Don't you see, Boy, don't you?"
The child's mouth hardened again:
"No, I don't. I'm just a little boy. I love my Mamma. She's good and
sweet to me and I'm not going to leave her--"
Again Polly laughed.
A smile slowly played about the brother's lips and eyes. He must show
his trump card.
"But you don't know what I've got for you--"
"What?"
"Something you've always wanted to have for your own--"
"A pony?"
The man slowly rose:

"Come out to the big road--"
The Boy seized his sister's hand:
"Polly, let's see!"
The girl's eyes grew dim:
"Oh, Jeff, I know you're goin'!"
"No--we'll just see what it is--come on!"
In five minutes they emerged from the deep woods into the clearing
around a cabin. Beside the roadway stood a horse and pony, both
bridled and saddled.
The swift feet of the Boy flew across the opening, the sister wide-eyed
and trembling, close on his heels. He threw his arms around the pony's
neck and stroked his head with gentle touch. The pony pressed his
mouth against the Boy's cheek in friendly response.
"Did you see him kiss me, Polly?" he cried tremblingly.
"Yes, I saw him," was the solemn response.
"Isn't he a beauty? Look, Polly--he's got a white spot on every foot and
one in his forehead and black as a coal all over--and Oh--what a
saddle--a red belt and red martingales!"
He touched the saddle lovingly and circled the pony's neck with his
arms.
The brother smiled again:
"Well, what do you think of that?"
The Boy was trembling now from head to foot, his heart in his throat as
he slowly asked:

"You mean that--you'll--give--him--to me--for--all my own?"
"If you'll be a good boy, go to school and work hard--yes."
"All right, Big Brother," was the quick answer, "I'll go. Help me on him
quick, and let me try him!"
The Boy lifted his bare foot into the strong hand, sprang into the saddle,
bounded down the road, wheeled, flew back and leaped to the ground.
"He's a dandy!"
Polly dropped her head and started home, making a brave fight to keep
back the tears. Half way across the clearing she gave up in a long pitiful
wail.
The Boy, busy with his pony, had not missed her. In a moment he was
by her side, his arms about her neck.
"Don't cry, Polly honey, I'll be back before long," he pleaded.
The only answer was a sob:
"Good-by, Jeff--"
Her hands slowly slipped through his.
"Good-by, Polly--"
He watched her go