



Produced by David Edwards, Barry Abrahamsen, and the Online
Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This
book was produced from images made available by the
HathiTrust Digital Library.)







         [Illustration: THE ADVENTURE WITH THE BASKET OF COIN.]




                                   A

                          CHANCE FOR HIMSELF;

                                  OR,

                     JACK HAZARD AND HIS TREASURE.

                                   BY

                           J. T. TROWBRIDGE,

   AUTHOR OF “JACK HAZARD AND HIS FORTUNES,” “LAWRENCE’S ADVENTURES,”
                          “COUPON BONDS,” ETC.


                    [Illustration: Publisher’s Logo]


                                BOSTON:
                      JAMES R. OSGOOD AND COMPANY,
            LATE TICKNOR & FIELDS, AND FIELDS, OSGOOD, & CO.
                                 1872.




------------------------------------------------------------------------




        Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1872,

                       BY JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO.,

       in the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington.




          UNIVERSITY PRESS: WELCH, BIGELOW, & CO., CAMBRIDGE.




------------------------------------------------------------------------




                               CONTENTS.

                                -------

  CHAPTER                                                          PAGE
       I. THE THUNDER-SQUALL                                          7
      II. WHAT JACK FOUND IN THE LOG                                 13
     III. “TREASURE-TROVE”                                           19
      IV. IN WHICH JACK COUNTS HIS CHICKENS                          28
       V. WAITING FOR THE DEACON                                     32
      VI. “ABOUT THAT HALF-DOLLAR”                                   36
     VII. HOW JACK WENT FOR HIS TREASURE                             41
    VIII. JACK AND THE SQUIRE                                        49
      IX. THE SQUIRE’S PERPLEXITY AND JACK’S STRATAGEM               58
       X. “THE HUSWICK TRIBE”                                        65
      XI. THE “COURT” AND THE “VERDICT”                              70
     XII. HOW HOD’S TROUSERS WENT TO THE SQUIRE’S HOUSE              78
    XIII. HOW JACK RESCUED LION, BUT MISSED THE TREASURE             82
     XIV. SQUIRE PETERNOT AT HOME                                    89
      XV. JACK AND THE HUSWICK BOYS                                  96
     XVI. HOW JACK CALLED AT THE SQUIRE’S                           104
    XVII. HOW JACK TOOK TO HIS HEELS                                111
   XVIII. HOW THE HEELS WENT HOME WITHOUT SHOES AND STOCKINGS       116
     XIX. HOW JACK WAS INVITED TO RIDE                              122
      XX. HOW THE SHOES AND STOCKINGS CAME HOME                     128
     XXI. JACK IN DISGRACE                                          135
    XXII. JACK AND THE JOLLY CONSTABLE                              143
   XXIII. BEFORE JUDGE GARTY                                        150
    XXIV. THE PRISONER’S CUP OF MILK                                157
     XXV. JACK’S PRISONERS                                          160
    XXVI. THE OWNER OF THE POTATO PATCH, AND HIS DOG                167
   XXVII. THE RACE, AND HOW IT ENDED                                174
  XXVIII. THE SEARCH, AND HOW IT ENDED                              179
    XXIX. THE CULVERT AND THE CORNFIELD                             187
     XXX. JACK BREAKFASTS AND RECEIVES A VISITOR                    194
    XXXI. TEA WITH AUNT PATSY                                       201
   XXXII. A STARLIGHT WALK WITH ANNIE FELTON                        208
  XXXIII. A STRANGE CALL AT A STRANGE HOUR OF THE NIGHT             216
   XXXIV. HOW JACK WON A BET, AND RETURNED A FAVOR                  221
    XXXV. AT MR. CHATFORD’S GATE                                    227
   XXXVI. THE “RIDE” CONTINUED                                      234
  XXXVII. ONE OF THE DEACON’S BLUNDERS                              239
 XXXVIII. THE DEACON’S DIPLOMACY                                    246
   XXXIX. A TURN OF FORTUNE                                         251
      XL. THE SQUIRE’S TRIUMPH                                      257
     XLI. HOW IT ALL ENDED                                          264




------------------------------------------------------------------------




                         A CHANCE FOR HIMSELF.

                                -------

                               CHAPTER I

                          THE THUNDER-SQUALL.


[Illustration]


ON a high, hilly pasture, occupying the northeast corner of Peach Hill
Farm, a man and two boys were one afternoon clearing the ground of
stones.

The man—noticeable for his round shoulders, round puckered mouth, and
two large, shining front teeth—wielded a stout iron bar called a “crow,”
with which he pried up the turf-bound rocks, and helped to tumble them
over upon a drag, called in that region a “stun-boat.” The larger of the
boys—a bright, active lad of about fourteen years—lent a hand at the
heavy rocks, and also gathered up and cast upon the drag the smaller
stones, on his own account. The second lad—nearly as tall, and perhaps
quite as old as the other—helped a little about the stones, but divided
his attention chiefly between the horse that drew the drag, and a shaggy
black dog that accompanied the party.

“Come, boy!” said the man,—enunciating the _m_ and _b_ by closing the
said front teeth upon his nether lip,—“ye better quit fool’n’, an’ ketch
holt and help. ’S go’n’ to rain.”

“Ain’t I helping?” retorted the smaller boy. “Don’t I drive the horse?”

“A great sight,—long’s the reins are on his back, an’ I haf to holler to
him half the time to git up an’ whoa. Git up, Maje! there! whoa!—Jack’s
wuth jest about six of ye.”

“O, Jack’s dreadful smart! Beats everything! And so are you, Phi
Pipkin!” said the boy, sneeringly. “You feel mighty big since you got
married, don’t ye?—I bet ye Lion’s got a squirrel under that big rock!
I’m going to see!” And away he ran.

“That ’ere Phin Chatford ain’t wuth the salt in his porridge,—if I do
say it!” remarked Mr. Pipkin. “I never did see sich a shirk; though when
he comes to tell what’s been done, you’d think he was boss of all
creation. Feel as if I’d like to take the gad to him sometimes, by
hokey!”

“O Jack!” cried Phin, who had mounted a boulder much too large for Mr.
Pipkin’s crow-bar, “you can see Lake Ontario from here,—’way over the
trees there! Come and get up here; it’s grand!”

“I’ve been up there before,” replied Jack. “Haven’t time now. We shall
have that shower here before we get half across the lot.”

“Come, Phin!” called out Mr. Pipkin, “there’s reason in all things!
We’ll onhitch soon’s we git this load, an’ dodge a wettin’.”

“Seems to me you’re all-fired ’fraid of a wetting, both of ye,” cried
Phin. “’T won’t hurt me! Let it come, and be darned to it, I say!”

This last exclamation sounded so much like blasphemy to the boy’s own
ears, and it was followed immediately by so vivid a flash of lightning
and so terrific a peal of thunder, from a black cloud rolling up
overhead, that he jumped down from the rock and crouched beside it,
looking ludicrously pale and scared; while the dog, dropping ears and
tail, and whining and trembling with fear, ran first for Jack’s legs,
then for Mr. Pipkin’s, and finally crouched by the boulder with Phin.

“You’re a perty pictur’ there!” cried Mr. Pipkin, with a loud, hoarse
laugh. “Who’s afraid now?”

“Lion, I guess,—I ain’t,” said Phin, with an unnatural grin. “Only
thought I’d sit down a spell.”

“It’s as cheap settin’ as standin’,—as the old hen remarked, arter she’d
sot a month on rotten eggs, an’ nary chicken,” said Mr. Pipkin, whose
spirits rose with the excitement of the occasion.

“There’s a good reason for the dog’s skulking,” said Jack. “He’s afraid
of thunder, ever since Squire Peternot fired the old musket in his face
and eyes. Hello! another crack!”

“I never see sich thunder!” exclaimed Mr. Pipkin. “Look a’ them
rain-drops! big as bullets!”

“It’s coming!” cried Jack; and instantly the heavy thunder-gust swept
over them.

“Onhitch!” roared out Mr. Pipkin, in the sudden tumult of rain and wind
and thunder. “I must look out for my rheumatiz! Put for the house!”

“We shall get drenched before we are half-way to the house,” replied
Jack, dropping the trace-chains. “I go for the woods!”

“I’ll take Old Maje, then,” said Mr. Pipkin.

But before he could mount, Phin, darting from the imperfect shelter of
the rock, ran and leaped across the horse’s back. As he was scrambling
to a seat, holding on by mane and harness, kicking, and calling out,
“Give me a boost, Phi!” Mr. Pipkin gave him a boost, and lost his hat by
the operation. That was quickly recovered; but before the owner,
clapping it on his head, could get back to the horse’s side, the
youthful rider, using the gathered-up reins for a whip, had started for
the barn.

“Whoa! hold on! take me!” bellowed Mr. Pipkin.

“He won’t carry double—ask Jack!”

Flinging these parting words over his shoulder, the treacherous Phin
went off at a gallop, leaving Mr. Pipkin to follow, at a heavy
“dog-trot,” over the darkened hill, through the rushing, blinding storm.

Jack was already leaping a wall which separated the pasture from a
neighboring wood-lot. Plung