"You young monkey," he cried, "do you wish to be run over," and with that the horse started. Leslie set off in chase, shouting for the man to stop; but the farmer, paying no heed to his cries, soon left him far behind with the abstracted linchpin in his hand. He sat down on a bank by the road side and burst into tears. What should he do? How could he remedy what he had done? What would the consequences be? The wheel might come off, the farmer be thrown out and seriously hurt, or perhaps killed, and he, Leslie, would then be a murderer.
It was some time before Leslie could make up his mind to return back to school, he thought it would be best to run away and hide himself somewhere, in some secret place where no one could find him, or would ever dream of searching for him. Then he thought he had better go directly to the doctor and confess what he had done; but this, his wisest plan, was overruled by the lingering hope in his heart that perhaps after all the farmer might reach home in safety.
When any one does wrong, it is always best to confess it at once; concealing the wrong makes it more, adds to the offence, and to the restless unhappiness of him who committed it. If Leslie had done this,—fully and frankly confessed his fault—perhaps the result of his mischief might not have fallen so heavily upon himself.
Two days of wretched anxiety passed. Leslie heard that a farmer returning home from market had been thrown from his cart and severely injured, but he could gain no particulars of the accident, how it had occurred, or who had been the victim. He most fervently trusted that it was not the consequences of his thoughtlessness; but it was almost like hoping against hope to believe this.
On the third day, as he was leaving the school grounds in company with Lynch, Hall, and Moore, he felt a rough hand laid on the collar of his jacket, while a harsh voice fell upon his ear, exclaiming,
"You be the young dog that took out my linchpin."
"Hallo! what's this?" shouted Hall, trying to pull Leslie free from the man's grasp.
The man carried one arm in a sling.
"Just you leave him alone, young sir," said the man, "I have nothing to say to you, but to this young dog I have."
"But what is it all about, man?" enquired Hall; "you must not seize the pupils of Ascot House in this way."