Horatio Alger - Joe the Hotel Boy; Or, Winning out by Pluck

Tired though he was the boy pulled with might and main, and so reached the dock of the physician’s home in a short space of time. Running up the walk of the neatly-kept garden, he mounted the piazza and rang the bell several times.

“What’s the matter?” asked Doctor Gardner, who came himself to answer the summons.

“Our cabin is in ruins, because of the storm, and Mr. Bodley is badly hurt,” answered Joe, and related some of the particulars.

“This is certainly too bad, my boy,” said the physician. “I’ll come at once and do what I can for him.”

He ran for a case of instruments and also for some medicines, and then followed Joe back to the boat.

“You act as if you were tired,” said the doctor, after he had watched Joe at the oars for several minutes.

“I am tired, sir—I’ve been rowing a good deal to-day. But I guess I can make it.”

“Let me row,” said the physician, and took the oars. He was a fine oarsman, and the trip was made in half the time it would have taken Joe to cover the distance.

At the dock there was a lantern, used by Joe and the hermit when they went fishing at night. This was lit, and the two hurried up the trail to the wreck of the cabin.

Hiram Bodley was resting where Joe had left him. He was breathing with difficulty and did not at first recognize the doctor.

“Take it off!” he murmured. “Take it off! It is—is crushing th—the life out of—of me!”

“Mr. Bodley—Hiram, don’t you know me?” asked Doctor Gardner, kindly.

“Oh! So it’s you? I guess you can’t do much, doctor, can you? I—I’m done for!” And a spasm of pain crossed the sufferer’s face.

“While there is life there is hope,” answered the physician, noncommittally. He recognized at once that Hiram Bodley’s condition was critical.

“He’ll get over it, won’t he?” questioned Joe, quickly.

The doctor did not answer, but turned to do what he could for the hurt man. He felt of his chest and listened to his breathing, and then administered some medicine.

“His ankle is hurt, too,” said Joe.

“Never mind the ankle just now, Joe,” was the soft answer.

There was something in the tone that alarmed the boy and he caught the physician by the arm.

“Doctor, tell me the truth!” he cried. “Is he is he going to die?”

“I am afraid so, my lad. His ribs are crushed and one of them has stuck into his right lung.”

At these words the tears sprang into the boy’s eyes and it was all he could do to keep from crying outright. Even though the old hermit had been rough in his ways, Joe thought a good deal of the man.

“Cannot you do something, doctor,” he pleaded.

“Not here. We might do something in a hospital, but he would not survive the journey. He is growing weaker every moment. Be brave, my lad. It is a terrible trial, I know, but you must remember that all things are for the best.”

Joe knelt beside the sufferer and took hold of his hand. Hiram Bodley looked at him and then at the doctor.

“I—I can’t live—I know it,” he said hoarsely. “Joe, stay by me till I die, won’t you?”

“Yes!” faltered the boy. “Oh, this is awful!”

“I’m sorry to leave you so soon, Joe—I—I thought I’d be—be able to do something for you some day.”

“You have done something for me, Uncle Hiram.”

“All I’ve got goes to you, Joe. Doctor, do you hear that?”

“I do.”

“It—it ain’t much, but it’s something. The blue box—I put it in the blue box—” Here the sufferer began to cough.

“The blue box?” came from Joe questioningly.

“Yes, Joe, all in the blue box—the papers and the money—And the blue box is—is—” Again the sufferer began to cough. “I—I want water!” he gasped.

The water was brought and he took a gulp. Then he tried to speak again, but the effort was in vain. The doctor and Joe raised him up.

“Uncle Hiram! Speak to me!” cried the boy.

But Hiram Bodley was past speaking. He had passed to the Great Beyond.

Three days after his tragic death Hiram Bodley was buried. Although he was fairly well known in the lake region only a handful of people came to his funeral. Joe was the chief mourner, and it can honestly be said that he was much downcast when he followed the hermit to his last resting place.

After the funeral several asked Joe what he intended to do. He could not answer the question.

“Have you found that blue box?” questioned Doctor Gardner.

“No, sir, I have not thought of it.”

“Probably it contains money and papers of value, Joe.”

“I am going to look for it to-day,” said the boy. “I—I couldn’t look for it while—while—”

“I understand. Well, I trust you locate the box and that it contains all you hope for,” added the physician.

As luck would have it, Ned Talmadge’s family had just gone away on a trip to the West, so Mr. Talmadge could offer the boy no assistance. But Ned was on hand and did what he could.

“You don’t know what you’ll do next, do you, Joe?” asked Ned, as he and Joe returned to the wreck of the cabin.

“No.”

“Well, if you haven’t any money I’ll do what I can for you.”

“Thank you, Ned; you are very kind.”

“It must be hard to be thrown out on the world in this fashion,” went on the rich boy, sympathetically.

“It is hard. After all, I thought a good deal of Uncle Hiram. He was strange in his ways, but he had a good heart.”

“Wasn’t he shot in the head once by accident in the woods?”

“Yes.”

“Maybe that made him queer at times.”

“Perhaps so.”

“I’ve got six dollars and a half of my spending money saved up. You may have that if you wish,” continued Ned, generously.

“I’d rather not take it, Ned.”

“Why not?”

“If I can, I want to be independent. Besides, I think there is money around somewhere,” and Joe mentioned the missing blue box.

“You must hunt for that blue box by all means!” cried the rich boy. “I’ll help you.”

After the death of Hiram Bodley, Joe and two of the lake guides had managed to repair one room of the broken-down cabin, and from this the funeral had taken place.

The room contained a bed, a table, two benches and a few dishes and cooking utensils The floor was bare and the window was broken out. It was truly a most uninviting home.

“Of course you are not going to stay here, now you are alone?” said Ned, after a look around.

“I don’t know where else to go, Ned.”

“Why not move into town!”

“Perhaps I will. But I want to find that blue box before I decide on anything.”

Without delay the two boys set to work among the ruins, looking into every hole and corner they could think of and locate. They pulled away heavy boards and logs, and Joe even got a spade and dug up the ground at certain points.

“It doesn’t seem to be here,” said Ned, after an hour had passed.

“It must be here,” cried Joe.

“Perhaps it was buried under a tree.”

“That may be true. Anyway, I am certain it is somewhere around this cabin.”

After that the hunt was continued for another hour, and they visited several spots in that locality where Joe thought the blue box might have been placed. But it was all to no purpose, the box failed to come to light.

At last the two boys sat down on a bench in front of the cabin. Both were tired out, Ned especially so. Joe was much downcast and his friend did what he could to cheer him up.

“The box is bound to come to light some day,” said Ned. “That is, unless some of those men carried it off.”