“If you mean for me to leave this field, sir, I am quite willing to do it; but it is not necessary for you to be so rough with me. Because my horse jumped over the fence and trampled the grain a little, you needn’t treat me like a convict. You yourself have trampled nearly as much as my horse; and the whole put together doesn’t amount to much.”
“Stop there!” cried the farmer. “I was obliged to tramp the grain to catch your horse. I didn’t wait for you to do it,” insultingly.
“Yes, sir,” Will said humbly, “my head was bumped pretty hard. My father will settle your account, but if you would like to put me into prison, don’t let my youth interfere with that.”
Meanwhile, Will was leading his pony towards a gate in the fence, which he reached as he finished speaking.
The farmer, who followed close behind, said sharply, “You are a pretty fellow to use such language as all this to me; and it is only a waste of breath for you to speak at all. According to you, it was great bravery to jump my fences and rush through my oats; but the law will think otherwise, and as certainly as I live, you shall be clapped into prison, or else pay whatever sum I may choose to fine you. I swear it.”
“That is only what I can expect,” Will said resignedly.
“Oh, you think I am not in earnest, perhaps, but you will soon find that I mean exactly what I say. What’s your name?” he asked, abruptly and uneasily, as if struck with a sudden suspicion.
“William Lawrence.”
The questioner was literally stupified. A look of dismay overspread his grim visage, and he stared helplessly at Will, as if the boy had been metamorphosed into a devouring monster.