Brother Billy

  CHAPTER IX. UNCLE JOHN'S "OLD TIMER"

  Betty cried at the station when Aunt Florence went home. Billy feltlike crying, but he wouldn't. Aunt Florence was sorry to leave thechildren, and even Gerald felt sad enough as her train disappearedamong the pines, and the whistle sounded at the crossing down the bayshore.

  "Well, she's gone," was his cheerful remark.

  "But she said she'd come again next summer," Betty sobbed, "and just assoon as she gets to the city she's going to send me a beautiful doll todress for Samone."

  "Perhaps Samone won't be here then," said Gerald.

  "Won't be here! Why not?" asked Betty, wiping her eyes and staring atthe boys.

  "Well, you know Antoine's been drinking again, and I heard some mensaying if he keeps on they are going to take Samone away from him.They're going to send her to the House of Correction,--no, I don'tbelieve that's the name of the place, either, but it is some home forchildren that don't belong to anybody."

  "Oh, what will Antoine do?" exclaimed Betty.

  "He'll fight," suggested Billy, "and so I will, too."

  "I'll tell you, boys, what we can do," advised Betty. "You know, itwon't be long now before Uncle John comes to go hunting. Of course,Aunt Florence will tell him all about Antoine and Samone, and how shecouldn't make him stop drinking, because she didn't know how to begintalking to him about it. Now, everybody says that if Antoine would makeup his mind to be a different kind of a man, he could, and everybodylikes him, even now, so I'm just going to ask Uncle John to go down tohis house and make him stop. That's a fine plan. Folks always listen toUncle John because he's so good-looking."

  When Uncle John came, he laughed at Betty. "Why, child, I'm not atemperance lecturer," he protested. "I came up here to hunt deer, notFrenchmen. Besides that, what's the use of my trying to do what you andAunt Florence couldn't?"

  "Aunt Florence didn't half try," answered Betty, "and, of course, I'venever tried at all. I wouldn't dare."

  Again Uncle John laughed. "If you don't dare venture, Betty, let's giveup. What do you say, Billy?"

  "I say, let me go hunting with you," replied the boy.

  "Hunting the Frenchman?"

  "No, hunting deer and bears. Will you take me sometime?"

  Betty turned away much troubled. There was no use of talking to UncleJohn, she could see that plainly. Betty liked Antoine so well shecouldn't understand why every one laughed when anything was said abouttrying to make him do right. She knew, too, how dearly the Frenchmanand his family loved the little Samone, and how kind they were tothe child. She also knew what Antoine was beginning to suspect: anumber of men in the village who were interested in Samone, and whosedecisions were always carried out, were talking of sending the littleone to the State School at Coldwater.

  Betty said no more about Antoine to Uncle John, but, while the frostfairies painted the maple leaves crimson and brightened the bordersof the evergreen woods with many a dash of colour, she listened aseagerly as Billy and Gerald to all he had to say of forest wonders.At the same time, down in her heart, Betty was hoping that Uncle Johnwouldn't get a deer that season. "If he don't kill a deer," she toldherself, "then the Coldwater school don't get Samone. That's my newsuperstition, though I'll never tell even Billy. Some things you mustkeep to yourself."

  Those were the days when Billy hated bedtime with all his might. Italways came in the middle of some tale of adventure, often at the pointwhere Uncle John almost shot a bear.

  Evening after evening, Mr. Larzalere, a neighbour, called to see UncleJohn, and many a tale of the woods he told that made Gerald stare.Billy often wondered why such great hunters as Mr. Larzalere and hisUncle John could go forth each day, knowing exactly where to find deer,and yet return without one.

  "Should think you'd begin to get discouraged," he said at last.

  Uncle John and Mr. Larzalere only smiled at the idea, and advisedBilly to wait. In the meantime, they talked with great enthusiasmof salt-licks, runways, bucks, does, and fawns, and a certain "OldTimer" that interested Billy more than anything else that lived in thewoods. The little boy dreamed of the "Old Timer," and one never to beforgotten morning he saw him.

  Mr. Larzalere had promised to meet Uncle John at the "Big Stone," andBilly had begged to be taken along. He hadn't the least idea where the"Big Stone" was, but, from listening to the daily talk of the hunters,he believed that all the animals in the woods trooped by that enchantedspot ever day; possibly they formed a procession and marched past.Mr. Larzalere and Uncle John seemed always to reach the place eithertoo late or too early to see all that happened. Uncle John told Billythat, when he was bigger, he would gladly take him hunting, but littleboys seven years old were too small to think of shooting "Old Timers."

  "But, Uncle John, of course, I don't want to shoot the 'Old Timer,'"persisted Billy. "I just want to see his big horns, and if you'll letme go, I'll climb up on the 'Big Stone' and sit right still until youcome after me. You and Mr. Larzalere can leave me there while you hunt."

  "Couldn't think of it, Billy," replied Uncle John. "When Mr. Larzalereand I drag in the Old Timer, then you'll see him."

  "That isn't the way I want to see him," said Billy to his mother. "Iwant to see him while he is alive. I've seen hundreds of dead deer downto the depot. What I want to see is the 'Old Timer' holding his ownhorns high,--high and running fast,--fast as if he was happy and wasn'tafraid of hunters."

  Early the next morning Billy was up and gazing wistfully out-of-doors.In spite of the rain pelting against the window, Billy wanted to gohunting, and wondered how his Uncle John could lie in bed and sleepafter daylight. Suddenly the small boy rubbed his eyes and stared.Across the common, in front of Mr. Larzalere's house, he saw the "OldTimer." A moment later the deer lifted his wide, spreading horns, stoodquietly gazing toward the house, then came bounding across the common,pausing a moment at Billy's gate before making a dash for the woods.

  "Oh, I saw him! I saw him!" cried Billy, rushing from window to window,hoping for another glimpse of the deer.

  In a little while Mr. Larzalere came, calling loudly upon Uncle Johnto get his gun and follow the deer. He was wet to the skin, and a moreexcited man Billy never saw.

  "Where--where's your gun?" asked Billy. "Uncle John isn't dressed yet;he says he'll hurry."

  "My gun's at home," explained Mr. Larzalere. "You see that deer wasgrazing by the big pine in front of my house, and when I raised theshade I must have startled him. I told my wife to get my gun quick, butI didn't dare wait for it, because I didn't want to lose sight of mydeer. Tell your Uncle John to come quick's he can! I'm going back formy gun!"

  As Mr. Larzalere ran for his gun, Billy flew through the houseshouting: "Gerald! Betty! Selma! Everybody! Get up and see where therewas a deer! Come on quick and I'll show you his tracks out in the sand!You'll have to hurry if you want to see the tracks, 'cause it's rainingpitchforks!"

  After chasing through the storm for an hour or more, Mr. Larzalere wenthome to breakfast, though broiled venison wasn't on the bill of fare.

  Whether dogs drove him out of the woods, or whether the deer overheardMr. Larzalere and Uncle John planning his downfall at one of themeetings by the "Big Stone," and walked into the village to show howlittle fear he had of hunters, Billy never knew, and the "Old Timer"was never again seen in that region. Whereat rejoiced Betty, thesuperstitious.

  Soon after, Uncle John went home; but he always declared that he shouldhave killed the deer had he stayed long enough.