CHAPTER XVII. PAYING THE FIDDLER.
Let us now return to Leon and Frank, whom we left, at the close of the second chapter, hastening over the hills toward home, after spending the day in the woods.
They had by no means enjoyed themselves as well as they expected they should, and now, when it was too late, they would have given almost anything if they could have lived the day over again.
They would have gone to school. Like all guilty persons, they were afraid, and Leon did not attempt to conceal the fact, although Frank did.
They ran almost all the way to the village, and climbing the fence at the back of Mr. Parker's lot, they hurried across the field, taking care to keep the barn between themselves and the house.
The merry shouts that came to their ears told them that they had not a moment to lose—that school had just been dismissed.
They entered the barn through the back door, and after hiding their guns and equipments in the hay-mow, ran out again. They crept along on their hands and knees under cover of the currant bushes, crossed two or three lots, and finally reached the street in which the school-house was located. Then they breathed easier.
They slackened their pace and walked along like honest school-boys, believing that all danger of discovery was passed; but what was their astonishment and alarm when one of their schoolmates, who had seen them climb the fence, hurried up to them, exclaiming as soon as he came within speaking distance:
"Hallo, fellows! where have you been to-day?"
"We have been at home," replied Frank, who, having a larger stock of falsehoods at his command than his cousin, was always expected to speak for him. "We couldn't come to school to-day."
"That's very strange," replied the boy. "Miles Jackson went to your house this morning to ask where you were, and returned with the report that you had started for school as usual."
Leon was almost ready to drop, and Frank, as soon as he had somewhat recovered from his amazement, asked angrily:
"What business had Miles Jackson to make inquiries about us, I'd like to know?"
"The professor sent him," replied the boy. "You see there was a new rule went into operation this morning. Mr. Chamberlain says he'll not be responsible for our advancement, unless we come to school regularly; and hereafter when any of the pupils are absent, he's going to send somebody to their homes to find out what's the matter."
The boy hurried on to overtake some fellows he saw in advance of him, leaving Frank and Leon standing on the sidewalk, and looking at each other in speechless amazement.
"It's all up with us," groaned Leon, as soon as he had recovered the use of his tongue. "We have danced, and now we must pay the fiddler."
"What a little snipe that Miles Jackson is!" exclaimed Frank, in great disgust. "Why couldn't he tell the professor that we were kept at home?"
"Oh, he isn't that sort!" replied Leon. "You needn't expect him to help you out of any scrape you get into."
"No; you can't expect such a favor from any fellow in this town," snapped Frank. "It takes city boys to do that. They stick to one another through thick and thin, and any spoony who tries to win the favor of the teacher by carrying tales is cut dead as soon as he is found out. There's another fellow who is mean enough for anything."
"Don't talk so loud," whispered Leon hastily. "You can get into trouble with him in a minute."
"I don't care," replied Frank, in a still louder tone. "I haven't seen a boy yet in this town that I am afraid of."
The subject of this conversation was Sam Hynes, who was striding along about twenty yards in front of them, in his usual free-and-easy manner, his hands in his pockets and his cap on the back of his head. He must have been very much engrossed with his own thoughts, or else he would certainly have heard what Frank said.
Arriving at the gate that led into Mrs. Preston's yard, he jerked it open—Sam handled everything as if it were made of iron—and, to the intense amazement of Leon and his cousin, was greeted by Oscar's hound.
The moment the gate was opened, the huge animal raised himself on his hind legs and placed his forefeet upon Sam's shoulders.
"Well, I declare!" exclaimed Leon.
"I thought as much," replied his cousin. "There's that dog as gay and frisky as he was this morning, when he was following that trail. A pretty shot you made, didn't you?"
"I know I hit him somewhere," said Leon. "Let's have a look at him, and see if I didn't. It's strange how much everybody thinks of that hound. He's got more friends in town than I have."
The cousins saw Sam pat the animal on the head, then gently push him off and bend over to examine his ear.
Just then Bugle happened to look around the gate-post and saw Frank and Leon approaching. With an angry growl, he dashed forward, throwing Sam flatter than he had ever been thrown by any boy of his age, and in a moment more something disagreeable and even tragic might have happened, had it not been for Sam's wonderful agility.
He did not know what was the matter, but he saw that the hound had made up his mind to bite somebody and he was resolved to prevent it if he could.
As Bugle passed him, Sam caught him by one of his hind legs, and, scrambling quickly to his feet, drew the dog toward him, until he could seize him by the back of the neck. But Frank thought the animal was coming, and uttered a scream that could have been heard two blocks away.
Then Oscar appeared on the scene, and after that came the colloquy we have already recorded, during which two facts were brought to light. One was that Oscar knew right where to look to find the person who had shot his favorite, and the other, that there was at least one boy in Eaton of whom the boastful Frank was afraid.
When Leon and his cousin resumed their walk toward home, their faces were very pale; but they soon recovered from their fright, and then, as a natural consequence, they began to get angry.
They had got themselves deeply in trouble that day; but, instead of being sorry for it, and making an honest resolve that they would do better in future, they became enraged at their luck, which had not served them a better turn.
Having no one else upon whom to vent their spite, they began abusing each other.
"If it hadn't been for Sam Hynes, that dog would have made bad work with us!" exclaimed Frank. "You came very near getting us into a pretty scrape by your miserable marksmanship. I wouldn't brag any more about my skill with a shot-gun, if I were in your place."
"That's a nice way for you to talk, isn't it?" retorted Leon. "Do I brag any more than you do? You said there wasn't a boy in town you were afraid of, and yet, when you saw that Sam Hynes was going to open that gate, you were in such a hurry to take back your words that you couldn't talk plainly."
The cousins, being in a very bad humor, continued to exchange such compliments as these until they arrived in sight of Mr. Parker's house.
Then they became silent, for they had other matters to think of.
What was going to happen when they got on the inside of that house?
They would have been glad if they could have found an excuse for postponing their entrance indefinitely; but, knowing that they must face the consequences of their folly sooner or later, they opened the gate without hesitation, mounted the steps, and entered the sitting room.
To the no small astonishment of both boys, the first person upon whom their eyes rested was Mr. Fuller—Frank's father.
He had come down from Boston to see how his son was getting on, and hoping to hear a good report of him. He also had some news to communicate that, twenty-four hours before, would have made the boys dance with delight.
He had decided to start for California, on a business tour, in about three weeks; he was going to take Frank with him, and he had asked Mr. Parker to allow Leon to accompany them.
The subject was broached that morning when Mr. Fuller first arrived, and Frank and Leon's prospects for making an extended pleasure-trip looked very bright indeed; but, during the discussion, Miles Jackson—acting under instructions from Mr. Chamberlain—suddenly made his appearance, and wanted to know why the boys were not at school.
The runaway business dashed all their prospects to the ground—and that was only the beginning of their trouble.
Another occupant of the room—whom the boys did not expect to see—was Mr. Parker, who was generally at his office this hour of the day.
As the truants came in, he arose and moved toward the library, beckoning to Leon to follow him.
He closed the door behind him, Mrs. Parker left the room, and Frank found himself alone with his father.
"Well, young man," said Mr. Fuller, "where have you been to-day?"
The boy did not know what to say. He was in a scrape that he could not lie out of.
"Where have you been to-day?" repeated Mr. Fuller sternly.
The look and the tone in which these words were uttered loosened Frank's tongue very quickly.
"I have been in the woods, sir," said he.
"Been in the woods!" repeated his father. "Ran away from school! Sneaked out of the house like a thief! Is this what I sent you to Eaton for?"
"No, sir; but I don't like this school, and I don't want to stay here. I want to go home."
"You'll not go home. You will stay right here, and go to school every day; and if I ever hear of your playing truant again, there will be a settlement between us that you will remember. Now, young man, I will tell you, for your satisfaction, that you have destroyed all your chances of going to California with me. Don't expect any privileges until you have learned to behave yourself."
Mr. Fuller settled back on the sofa and turned his attention to the paper he held in his hand, while Frank, after sitting uneasily on the edge of his chair for a few minutes, and twirling his cap on his finger, arose and left the room.
Presently the door of the library opened, and Leon came out, with red and swollen eyes, and started for the barn.
When he returned, he brought with him his cousin's rifle and his own double-barrel, which had been hidden in the haymow.
The double-barrel and its equipments he carried into the library, and saw them placed in one of the long drawers of the bookcase and locked up. The rifle he carried to his own room, where he found his cousin pacing back and forth, flourishing his fists in the air and talking to himself.
He was in a state of almost ungovernable fury. When Leon came in, he stopped and looked at him.
"What did your father say to you?" he asked, "and where is your gun?"
"My gun is under lock and key, and I can't have it again this winter," whined Leon. "Father says that if I am going to be a vagabond, and spend my time in the woods, I shall not have a gun to help me enjoy myself. You got us both into a nice mess this morning, didn't you?"
"Now don't go back on me in that fashion," exclaimed Frank. "We are in a bad fix, and we must stick together in order to get out of it."
These words seemed to make an impression upon Leon. The angry scowl faded from his face, and the next words he addressed to his cousin were spoken in a more friendly tone.
"What did Uncle William say to you?" he inquired.
"He said only one thing I can remember," replied Frank; "and that is, that I have lost all my chances of going out West."
"That's just what my father said to me," returned Leon. "It seems that Uncle William came here on purpose to make arrangements for taking us with him on his trip to California; but by this day's work we have knocked everything on the head."
"We'll see about that," said Frank, in a savage tone.
"I wish you had been in Guinea, before you proposed running away from school this morning," continued Leon, growing angry again, and slamming his cousin's rifle down upon the bed.
"You were ready enough to join in with me," retorted Frank. "But go back on me if you feel like it. I can take care of myself. I am going to straighten things out in a hurry."
"What do you intend to do?"
"I intend to clear out, and I shall not be long about it, either. Father says I must stay here and go to school every day; but I'll show him whether I will or not. I wouldn't be afraid to bet him the twenty dollars I've got in my trunk that I'll see that western country before he does."
Leon sat down on the bed and looked at his cousin without speaking.