CHAPTER XXIII.
ANOTHER GRAND PLAN, AND A VERY GRAND RUNAWAY.
The whole community was stirred up over the news of the capture of thetramp. It made a first-class excitement for a place of that size; butnone of the inhabitants took a deeper interest in the matter than didFord and Frank and the two Hart boys. It was difficult for them to gettheir minds quite right about it, especially the first pair, to whom itwas a matter of unasked question just how much help Ham had given Dab incapturing the marauder. Mr. Foster himself got a little excited aboutit, when he came home; but poor Annie was a good deal more troubled thanpleased.
"O mother!" she exclaimed. "Do you suppose I shall have to appear incourt, and give my testimony as a witness?"
"I hope not, my dear. Perhaps your father can manage to prevent itsomehow."
It would not have been an easy thing to do, even for so good a lawyer asMr. Foster, if Burgin himself had not saved them all trouble on thatscore. Long before the slow processes of country criminal justice couldbring him to actual trial, so many misdeeds were brought home to him,from here and there, that he gave the matter up, and not only confessedto the attack on Annie's pocket-book, but to the barn-burning, to whichDab's cudgelling had provoked him. He made his case so very clear, thatwhen he finally came before a judge and jury, and pleaded "guilty,"there was nothing left for them to do but to say just what he was guiltyof, and how long he should "break stone" to pay for it. It was likely tobe a good deal more than "ten years," if he lived out his "time."
All that came to pass some months later, however; and just now thevillage had enough to talk about in discussing the peculiar manner ofhis capture.
The story of the demijohn leaked out, of course; and, while it did notrob Dab and Ham of any part of their glory, it was made to do severeduty in the way of a temperance lecture.
Old Jock, indeed, protested.
"You see, boys," said he, "real good liquor, like that, don't do nobodyno harm. That was the real stuff,--prime old apple-jack 'at I'd had inmy cellar ten year last Christmas; an' it jest toled that feller acrossthe bay, and captered him, without no manner of diffikilty."
There were some among his auditors who could have testified to adecidedly different kind of "capture."
One effect of Dab's work on the day of the yachting-trip, including hisspecial performances as cook, and as milliner to the lobsters, was, thathe felt himself thenceforth bound to be somewhat carefully polite to Joeand Fuz. The remaining days of their visit would have been altogethertoo few for the varied entertainments he laid out for them, in his ownmind, by way of reparation for his unlucky "practical joke." They wereto catch all there was in the bay. They were to ride everywhere. Theywere to be shown every thing there was to see.
"They don't deserve it, Dab," said Ford; "but you're a real good fellow.Mother says so."
"Does she?" said Dab; and he evidently felt a good deal relieved, afterthat.
Mr. Richard Lee, when his friends once more found time to think of him,had almost disappeared from the public eye.
Some three days after "the trip," while all the other boys were out inthe "Jenny," having a good time with their hooks and lines, Dick'smother made her appearance in Mrs. Kinzer's dining-room, or Miranda's,with a face that was even darker than usual, with a cloud of motherlyanxiety.
"Miss Kinzer," she said, "has you seen my Dick, dis week?"
"No: he hasn't been here at all. Is there any thing the matter withhim?"
"Dat's de berry question. I jes' doesn't know wot to make ob 'im."
"Why, Glorianna, do you think he's studying too hard?"
"It ain't jes' de books; I isn't so much afeard ob dem: but it's all'long ob de 'Cad'my. I wish you'd jes' take a good look at 'im, fustchance ye git."
"Does he look badly?"
"No: 'tain't jes' altogedder his looks. He's de bes' lookin' boy 'longshoah. But den de way he's a-goin' on to talk. 'Tain't natural. He usedto talk fust-rate."
"Can't he talk now?"
"Yes, Miss Kinzer, he kin talk; but den de way he gits out his words.Nebber seen sech a t'ing in all my born days. Takes him ebber so longjes' to say good-mornin'. An' he doesn't say it like he use ter. I wishyou'd jes' take a good look at 'im."
Mrs. Kinzer promised, and she gave her black friend what comfort shecould; but Dick Lee's tongue would never again be the free-and-easymember of society it had been. Even when at home, and about hiscommonest "chores," he was all the while struggling with what he calledhis "pronounciation." If he should succeed as well with the rest of his"schooling," it was safe to say that it would not be thrown away uponhim.
Glorianna went her way that morning; and the next to intrude upon Mrs.Kinzer's special domain was her son-in-law himself, accompanied by hisblooming bride.
"We've got a plan."
"You? Apian? What about?"
"Dab and his friends."
That was the beginning of a tolerably long consultation, and the resultsof it were duly reported to Dabney when he came home with his fish.
"A party?" he exclaimed, when his mother finished her brief butcomprehensive statement: "Ham and Miranda to give a party for us boys?Well, now, if they're not right down good! But, mother, we'll have toget it up mighty quick."
"I know it, Dab; but that's easy enough, with all the help we have. I'lltake care of that."
"A party! but, mother, what can we do? There's only a few of 'em knowhow to dance. I don't, for one."
"You must talk it over with Ford. Perhaps Annie and Frank can help you."
They were all taken into counsel soon enough; and endless were the plansand propositions made, till even Mrs. Kinzer found her temper getting alittle fretted and worried over them.
At all events, it was a settled fact that the "party" was to be; and theinvitations went out in due and proper form.
"Miranda," said her mother, on the morning of the important day, "wemust manage to get rid of Dabney and those boys for a few hours."
"Send 'em for some greens to rig the parlor with," suggested Ham. "Let'em take the ponies."
"Do you think the ponies are safe for them to drive, just now?"
"Oh! Dab can handle 'em. They're a trifle skittish, that's all. Theyneed a little exercise."
So they did; but it was to be doubted if the best way to secure it forthem was to send them out in a light, two-seated wagon, with a load offive lively boys.
"Now, don't you let one of the other boys touch the reins," said Mrs.Kinzer.
Dab's promise to that effect proved a hard one to keep; for Fuz and Joealmost tried to take the reins away from him, before they had driven twomiles from the house. He was firm, however, and they managed to reachthe strip of woodland, some five miles inland, where they were to gathertheir load, without any disaster; but it was evident to Dab, all theway, that his ponies were in uncommonly "high" condition. He took themout of the wagon, while the rest began to gather their liberal harvestof evergreens; and he did not bring them near it again until all wasready for the start homeward.
"Now, boys," he said, "you get in; Joe and Ford and Fuz on the backseat, to hold down the greens. Frank, get up there, forward, while Ihitch in the ponies. These fellows are chuck full of mischief."
Very full, certainly; nor did Dab Kinzer know exactly what the matterwas for a minute or so after he seized the reins and sprang up besideFrank Harley.
Then, indeed, as the ponies kicked and reared and plunged, he thought hesaw something work out from under their collars, and fall to the ground.An acorn-burr is just the thing to worry a restive horse, if put in sucha place; but Joe and Fuz had hardly expected their "little joke" to beso very successful as it was.
The ponies were off now!
"Joe," shouted Fuz, "let's jump!"
"Don't let 'em, Ford," exclaimed Dab, giving his whole energies to thehorses. "They'll break their necks if they do. Hold 'em in."
Ford, who was in the middle, promptly seized an arm of each of hispanic-stricken cousins, while Frank clambered
over the seat to help him.They were all down on the bottom now, serving as a, weight to hold theevergreen branches, as the light wagon bounced and rattled along overthe smooth, level road.
In vain Dab pulled and pulled at the ponies. Run they would, and runthey did; and all he could do was to keep them fairly in the road.
Bracing strongly back, with the reins wound around his tough hands, andwith a look in his face that should have given courage even to the Hartboys, Dab strained at his task as bravely as when he had stood at thetiller of "The Swallow" in the storm.
There was no such thing as stopping those ponies.
And now, as they whirled along, even Dabney's face paled a little.
"I must reach the bridge before he does: he's just stupid enough to keepright on."
It was very "stupid," indeed, for the driver of that one-horse"truck-wagon" to try and reach the little narrow unrailed bridge first.It was an old, used-up sort of a bridge, at best.
Dab loosened the reins a little, but could not use his whip.
"Why can't he stop!"
It was a moment of breathless anxiety, but the wagoner kept stolidly on.There would be barely room to pass him on the road itself; none at allon the narrow bridge.
The ponies did it.
They seemed to put on an extra touch of speed on their own account, justthen.
There was a rattle, a faint crash; and then, as the wheels of the twovehicles almost touched each other in passing, Ford shouted,--
"The bridge is down!"
Such a narrow escape!
One of the rotten girders, never half strong enough, had given way underthe sudden shock of the hinder wheels; and that truck-wagon would haveto find its road across the brook as best it could.
There were more wagons to pass, as they plunged forward, and roughplaces in the road for Dabney to look out for; but even Joe and Fuz werenow getting confidence in their driver. Before long, too, the poniesthemselves began to feel that they had had enough of it. Then it wasthat Dab used his whip again, and the streets of the village weretraversed at a rate to call for the disapprobation of all sober-mindedpeople.
"Here we are, Ham! Greens and all."
"Did they run far, Dab?" asked Ham quietly.