True to Himself | Page 3

no one knew.
All the friends we had had before deserted us. The girls "turned up their
noses" at Kate,-- which made my blood boil,-- and the boys fought shy
of me.
I tried to find work, but without success. Even in places where help was
wanted excuses were made to me-- trivial excuses that meant but one
thing-- that they did not desire any one in their employ who had a stain
upon his name.
Kate was equally unsuccessful; and we might have starved but for a
lucky incident that happened just as we were ready to give up in
despair.
Walking along the road one day, I saw Farmer Tilford's bull tearing
across the field toward a gate which had been accidentally left open.
The Widow Canby, absorbed in thought and quite unconscious of the
danger that threatened her, was just passing this gate, when I darted
forward and closed it just a second before the bull reached it. I did not
consider my act an heroic one, but the Widow Canby declared it
otherwise.
"You are a brave boy," she said. "Who are you?"
I told her, coloring as I spoke. But she laid a kindly hand upon my
shoulder.

"Even if your father was guilty, you are not to blame," she said, and she
made me tell her all about myself, and about Kate, and the hard luck we
were having.
The Widow Canby lived in an old-fashioned house, surrounded on
three sides by orchards several acres in extent. She was well to do, but
made no pretence to style. Many thought her extremely eccentric but
that was only because they did not know her.
The day I came to her assistance she made me stay to supper, and when
I left it was under promise to call the next day and bring my sister
along.
This I did, and a long conversation took place, which resulted in Kate
and myself going to live with the widow-- I to take care of the garden
and the orchards, and my sister to help with the housekeeping, for
which we received our board and joint wages of fifteen dollars per
month.
We could not have fallen into better hands. Mrs. Canby was as
considerate as one would wish, and had it not been for the cloud upon
our name we would have been content.
But the stain upon our family was a source of unpleasantness to us. I
fully believed my father innocent, and I wondered if the time would
ever come when his character would be cleared.
My duties around Widow Canby's place were not onerous, and I had
plenty of chance for self-improvement. I had finished my course at the
village school in spite of the calumny that was cast upon me, and now I
continued my studies in private whenever the opportunity offered.
I was looked down upon by nearly every one in the village. To
strangers I was pointed out as the convict's son, and people reckoned
that the "Widder Canby wasn't right sharp when she took in them as
wasn't to be trusted."
I was not over-sensitive, but these remarks, which generally reached

my ears sooner or later, made me very angry. What right had people to
look down on my sister and myself? It was not fair to Kate and me, and
I proposed to stand it no longer.
It was a lovely morning in September, but I was in no mood to enjoy
the bright sunshine and clear air that flooded the orchard. I had just
come from the depot with the mail for Mrs. Canby, and down there I
had heard two men pass opinions on my father's case that were not only
uncharitable but unjust.
I was therefore in no frame of mind to put up with Duncan Woodward's
actions, and when he spoke of giving me a good drubbing I prepared to
defend myself.
"Two can play at that game, Duncan," I replied.
"Ho! ho! Do you mean to say you can stand up against me?" he asked
derisively.
"I can try," I returned stoutly. "I'm sure now that you have no business
here."
"Why, you miserable little thief--"
"Stop that! I'm no thief, if you please."
"Well, you're the son of one, and that's the same thing."
"My father is innocent, and I won't allow any one, big or little, to call
him a thief," I burst out. "Some day he will be cleared."
"Not much!" laughed Duncan. "My father knows all about the case. I
can tell you that."
"Then perhaps he knows where the money went to," I replied quickly.
"I know he was very intimate with my father at that time."
Had I stopped to think I would not have spoken as I did. My remark