Running To Waste. Baker George Melville
Teddy. Don’t be a goose! I haven’t watched this tree a week for nothin’. Cap’n Thompson’s gone to the ship-yard. I saw him ride off an hour ago on ‘Uncle Ned;’ and he never gets back till dinner time when he goes there.”
“Don’t be too sure of that, Tomboy!”
With a slight scream, Becky turned her eyes from the camp of the enemy to the lane. Not ten feet from her stood a white horse, and on his back sat the dreaded enemy – Captain Thompson. A lively trembling of the branches overhead gave evidence that another party was aware of the startling interruption to a projected fruit banquet.
Becky looked at the captain. He had a very red face; he seemed to be in a towering passion, and was, evidently, searching his short, stout body for a tone deep and terrible enough with which to continue the conversation. She looked at him with a smile on her face; but, at the flash of his angry eyes, dropped hers to the apron which contained the proofs of guilt, then stole a glance at her trembling accomplice, straightened her little body, and looked defiantly at the horseman.
“So, Tomboy, I have caught you in the act – have I?” thundered the captain.
“Yes, cap’n, you certainly have, this time, and no mistake,” saucily answered the tomboy. “S’pose we’ve got to catch it now. What’s the penalty? Going to put us in the pound, or lock us up in the barn?”
“Neither, Miss Impudence,” thundered the captain. “I’ll horsewhip you both. Here, you, Master Ned, come out of that tree, quick! D’ye hear?”
That the delinquent did hear, and that he was inclined to obey, was made manifest by a rustling among the leaves, and the dull thud of a heavy body as it struck the ground, for Master Teddy, terrified at the angry voice of the captain, had let go, and landed in a heap outside the wall.
“Run, Teddy, run! Don’t let him catch you!” cried Becky, in excitement, dropping her apron.
The round and rosy spoils, being freed, followed the law of gravitation, and plumped one after another on to the head of the prostrate Teddy, who was groaning and rubbing his elbows, with a very lugubrious face.
“If you stir a step, you imp of mischief, I’ll break every bone in your body,” cried the captain, hastily dismounting, and approaching Teddy, with a long riding-whip in his hand.
“Don’t you touch my brother! Don’t you dare to touch my brother!” cried Becky from her perch. “It’s a shame to make such a fuss about a few apples!”
“It’s a great shame that a girl of your age should be caught stealing apples,” replied the captain.
“’Tain’t my fault. We shouldn’t have been caught if you’d only staid at the yard.”
The captain almost smiled; the audacity of the young depredator’s attempt to shift the responsibility of the theft upon him, really tickled him. Nevertheless, he approached Teddy, who, having rubbed himself comfortable, now sat calmly awaiting his fate.
“Now, sir, what have you to say for yourself? Haven’t I told you to keep off my place? Haven’t I given you sufficient warning? Haven’t I promised you a thrashing if I caught you here – hey?” roared the captain.
“Yes, cap’n, you did. But I couldn’t help it. I – I – I didn’t want the apples; b – b – but I wanted to climb the tree for fun; its such a hard climb, and – and – ” stammered Teddy, eyeing the whip.
“Don’t lie, you imp. There’s my apples all round you. You shall sweat for this, I promise you. Off with your jacket, quick! D’ye hear?”
“Don’t strike him, cap’n; please don’t. He’s not to blame;” and Becky plunged from the wall, and stood between the captain and her brother. “He didn’t want the apples – indeed, he didn’t. He don’t like apples – do you, Teddy?”
Teddy shook his head energetically, with a contemptuous look at the fruit.
“I helped him up the tree, and I’m to blame for it all. You oughtn’t to strike a boy for doing all he can to please his sister. If you must whip somebody, take me.”
“Stand out of the way, Tomboy. Your time will come soon enough – never fear.” And he pushed her from the path. “Off with that jacket. D’ye hear?”
Teddy coolly unbuttoned his jacket, and threw it on the grass.
“Don’t tease him, Becky. I’m not afraid of his whip. If it’s any fun for him, let him lay on. I guess I can stand it as long as he can;” and Teddy looked defiantly at his adversary.
Becky ran to her brother, and threw her arms about his neck, to shield him from the whip.
“He shan’t strike you, Teddy. It’s all my fault. He shan’t touch you.”
Captain Thompson was an obstinate man. When he made up his mind to the doing of an act, nothing could stand in his way. Perhaps this accounted for the coolness of Teddy in the trying situation in which he was placed, who, remembering his promise, knew it must be fulfilled, and so offered no resistance.
“Don’t, Becky. D’ye want to smother a feller? Don’t be a ninny. It’s got to come. Go home – do.”
“I won’t. He shall kill me before he strikes you.”
Becky’s devotion was blighted in an instant, for the angry man seized her by the arm and flung her across the lane. She fell to the ground unhurt, for the grass was thick and soft.
“I’ll teach you to meddle. Don’t come near me till I’ve done with him. Mind that.”
Becky sprang to her feet, fire flashing from her eyes. She was as angry now as her tormentor. She picked up a stone, and despite his warning, approached the captain. He should not strike her brother, she looked at the house; no one in sight. Down the lane; no one – yes, there stood Uncle Ned, cropping the grass, unmindful of the group. Ah, the horse! There was a chance yet to save her brother.
“Now, you scamp, I’ll teach you to rob orchards!” and the whip was raised.
Spry as a cat, Becky was at the captain’s back in an instant. She jumped and caught the whip from his hand, then ran for the horse. The captain quickly turned; but too late. Becky sprang to the saddle, caught up the rein, lashed the horse, turned, and shouted, “Good by, Teddy! Good by, cap’n!” and galloped down the lane.
“Come back, come back, you imp of mischief! Come back, I say,” shouted the captain, running after her.
“Some other time, cap’n; can’t stop now. Good by;” and the saucy girl turned, waved her hand to the maddened and baffled owner of the Baldwins, plied the whip briskly, and was out of sight.
The captain, with a muttered “Hang it!” – which was the extent of his swearing, for he was a deacon, – followed at as rapid a pace as he could command, leaving Teddy solitary and alone.
The fat boy looked after his persecutor a moment, with a smile upon his face, then rose, picked up his jacket, put it on, buttoned it at the bottom, then coolly picked up the trophies of victory, tucked them into his jacket and his pockets, crossed the lane, crept through a hedge, and disappeared.
CHAPTER II
FALLEN FORTUNES
“A stern chase is a long chase;” so, leaving Captain Thompson in pursuit of the fugitive, we will take the liberty of passing through his premises to the main street. At the left of the church, opposite his house, another road ran down a steep hill, crossed Rogue’s River, by a bridge, ran up another hill, and wound round into the Foxtown road. At the top of the second hill stood a small brown house, by no means attractive in appearance, being destitute of paint, climbing vine, flowers, or other ornamentation. It had not even the virtue of neatness to recommend it. The gate was off its hinges, and lay in the road. A crazy barn close by had a pitch towards the river, as though from sheer weakness it was inclined to lie down for rest, while the scanty patch of cabbages and beets, the potato hills, few and far between, and the rickety bean-poles, all had a starved and neglected appearance.
This