CHAPTER XV.
DABNEY KINZER TO THE RESCUE.
One of the most troublesome of the annoyances which come nowadays todwellers in the country, within easy reach of any great city, is the badkind of strolling beggar known as "the tramp." He is of all sorts andsizes; and he goes everywhere, asking for any thing he wants, very muchas if it belonged to him and he had come for his own--so long as he cando his asking of a woman or a sickly-looking man. There had been veryfew of these gentry seen in that vicinity, that summer, for a wonder;and those who had made their appearance had been reasonably wellbehaved. Probably because there had been so many healthy-looking menaround, as a general thing. But it come to pass, on the very day inwhich Ham and Miranda were expected to arrive by the last of the eveningtrains, just as Dab Kinzer was turning away from the landing, where hehad been for a look at "The Swallow" and to make sure she was all rightfor her owner's eyes, that a very disreputable specimen of a worthlessman stopped at Mrs. Kinzer's to beg something to eat, and then saunteredaway down the road. It was a little past the middle of the afternoon;and even so mean-looking, dirty a tramp as that had a perfect right tobe walking along then and there. The sunshine, and the fresh salt airfrom the bay, were as much his as anybody's, and so was the water in thebay; and no one in all that region of country stood more in need ofplenty of water than he.
The vagabond took his right to the road, as he had taken his other rightto beg his dinner, until, half-way down to the landing, he was met by anopportunity to do a little more begging.
"Give a poor feller suthin'?" he impudently drawled, as he staredstraight into the sweet fresh face of Annie Foster.
Annie had been out for only a short walk; but she happened to have herpocket-book with her, and she thoughtlessly drew it out, meaning to givethe scamp a trifle, if only to get rid of him.
"Only a dime, miss?" whined the tramp, as he shut his dirty hand overAnnie's gift. "Come, now, make it a dollar, my beauty. I'll call it allsquare for a dollar."
The whine grew louder as he spoke; and the wheedling grin on hisdisgusting face changed into an expression so menacing that Annie drewback with a shudder, and was about returning her little portemonnaie toher pocket.
"No, you don't, honey!"
The words were uttered in a hoarse and husky voice, and were accompaniedby a sudden grip of poor Annie's arm with one hand, while with the otherhe snatched greedily at the morocco case.
Did she scream?
How could she help it? Or what else could she have done, under thecircumstances?
She screamed vigorously, whether she would or no, and at the same momentdropped her pocket-book in the grass beside the path, so that itmomentarily escaped the vagabond's clutches.
"Shut up, will you!"
Other angry and evil words, accompanied by more than one vicious threat,followed thick and fast, as Annie struggled to free herself, while herassailant peered hungrily around after the missing prize.
It is not at all likely he would have attempted any thing so bold asthat, in broad daylight, if he had not been drinking too freely; and thevery evil "spirit" which had prompted him to his rash rascality unfittedhim for its immediate consequences.
These latter, in the shape of Dab Kinzer and the lower joint of a stoutfishing-rod, had been bounding along up the road from the landing, at atremendous rate, for nearly half a minute.
A boy of fifteen assailing a full-grown ruffian?
Why not? Age hardly counts in such a matter; and then it is not everyboy of even his growth that could have brought muscles like those of DabKinzer to the swing he gave that four-foot length of seasoned ironwood.
Annie saw him coming; but her assailant did not until it was too latefor him to do any thing but turn, and receive that first hit in frontinstead of behind. It would have knocked over almost anybody; and thetramp measured his length on the ground, while Dabney plied the rod onhim with all the energy he was master of.
"Oh, don't, Dabney, don't!" pleaded Annie: "you'll kill him!"
"I wouldn't want to do that," said Dab, as he suspended his pounding;but he added, to the tramp,--
"Now you'd better get up and run for it If you're caught around hereagain, it'll be the worse for you."
The vagabond staggered to his feet, and he looked savagely enough atDab; but the latter looked so very ready to put in another hit with thatterrible cudgel, and the whole situation was so unpleasantly suggestiveof further difficulty, that the youngster's advice was taken without aword. That is, if a shambling kind of double limp can be described as a"run for it."
"Here it is: I've found my pocket-book," said Annie, as her enemy madethe best of his way off.
"He did not hurt you?"
"No: he only scared me, except that I suppose my arm will beblack-and-blue where he caught hold of it. Thank you ever so much,Dabney: you're a brave boy. Why, he's almost twice your size."
"Yes; but the butt of my rod is twice as hard as his head," said Dabney."I was almost afraid to strike him with it. I might have broken hisskull."
"You didn't even break your rod."
"No; and now I must run back for the other pieces and the tip. I droppedthem in the road."
"Please, Dabney, see me home first," said Annie. "I know it's foolish,and there isn't a bit of danger; but I must confess to being a good dealfrightened."
Dab Kinzer was a little the proudest boy on Long Island, as he walkedalong at Annie's side, in compliance with her request. He went nofarther than the gate, to be sure, and then he returned for the rest ofhis rod: but before he got back with it, Keziah Kinzer hurried home froma call on Mrs. Foster, bringing a tremendous account of Dab's heroism;and then his own pride over what he had done was only a mere drop in thebucket, compared to that of his mother.
"Dabney is growing wonderfully," she remarked to Samantha, "He'll be aman before any of us know it."
If Dab had been a man, however, or if Ham Morris or Mr. Foster had beenat home, the matter would not have been permitted to drop there. Thattramp ought to have been followed, arrested, and shut up where hisvicious propensities would have been under wholesome restraint for awhile. As it was, after hurrying on for a short distance, and makingsure he was not pursued, he clambered over the fence, and sneaked intothe nearest clump of bushes. From this safe covert he watched DabKinzer's return after the lighter pieces of his rod; and then he evendared to crouch along the fence, and see which house his young conquerorwent into.
"That's where he lives, is it?" he muttered, with a scowl of the mostferocious vengeance. "Well, they'll have some fun there before they gitto bed to-night, or I'll know the reason why."
It could not have occurred to such a man that he had been given hisdinner at the door of that very house. What had the collection of hisrights as a "tramp" to do with questions of gratitude and revenge?
The bushes were a good enough hiding-place for the time, and he crawledback to them with the air and manner of a man whose mind was made up tosomething.
Ford and Frank were absent in the city that day with Mr. Foster, who waskindly attending to some affairs of Frank's; but when the three camehome, and learned what had happened, it was hard to tell which of themfailed most completely in trying to express his boiling indignation.They were all on the point of running over to the Morris house to thankDab, but Mrs. Foster interposed.
"I don't think I would. To-morrow will do as well, and you know they'reexpecting Mr. and Mrs. Morris this evening."
It was harder for the boys to give it up than for Mr. Foster, and thewaiting till to-morrow looked a little dreary. They were lingering nearthe north fence two hours later, with a faint idea of catching Dab, eventhough they knew that the whole Kinzer family were down at therailway-station, waiting for Ham and Miranda.
There was a good deal of patience to be exercised by them also; for thatrailway-train was provokingly behind time, and there was "waiting" to bedone accordingly.
The darkness of a moonless and somewhat cloudy night had settled overthe vi
llage and its surrounding farms, long before the belated enginepuffed its way in front of the station-platform.
Just at that moment, back there by the north fence, Ford Fosterexclaimed,--
"What's that smell?"
"It's like burning hay, more than any thing else," replied Frank.
"Where can it come from, I'd like to know? We haven't had a light out atour barn."
"Light?" exclaimed Frank. "Just look yonder!"
"Why, it's that old barn, 'way beyond the Morris and Kinzer house.Somebody must have set it on fire. Hullo! I thought I saw a man running.Come on, Frank!"
There was indeed a man running just then; but they did not see him, forhe was already very nearly across the field, and hidden by the darkness.He had known how to light a fire that would smoulder long enough for himto get away.
He was not running as well, nevertheless, as he might have done beforehe came under the operation of Dab Kinzer's "lower joint."
Mrs. Kinzer did her best to prevent any thing like a "scene" at therailway-station when Ham and Miranda came out upon the platform; butthere was an immense amount of "welcome" expressed in words and hugs andkisses, in the shortest possible space of time. There was no lingeringon the platform, however; for Ham and his wife were as anxious to get atthe "surprise" they were told was waiting for them, as their friendswere to have them come to it.
Before they were half way home, the growing light ahead of themattracted their attention; and then they began to hear the vigorousshouts of "Fire!" from the throats of the two boys, re-enforced now byMr. Foster himself, and the lawyer's voice was an uncommonly good one.Dabney was driving the ponies, and they had to go pretty fast for therest of that short run.
"Surprise?" exclaimed Ham. "I should say it was! Did you light it beforeyou started, Dabney?"
"Don't joke, Hamilton," remarked Mrs. Kinzer. "It may be a very seriousaffair for all of us. But I can't understand how in all the world thatbarn should have caught fire."
"Guess it was set a-going," said Dab.