“The funny thing,” says Batten, “is where that dog has gone to. That’s what’s bothering me.”
“Gone off chasing a rabbit.”
“I s’pose a rabbit rang the bell, too, huh? And let out that screech. I ain’t denying it’s got on my nerves, and Willis is ready to crawl under the bed. ’Tain’t ghosts, I know that—when I get time to think it over—but it’s all-fired queer. I’d give something to know how that bell was rang and who rung it.”
I just couldn’t resist the temptation to let her fly. My sling-shot was all ready with a pebble in it, and I hit the old bell a good clip. Glang it went.
Batten and Bill sat up straight. Maybe they were sure ghosts hadn’t anything to do with it, but they didn’t like it. They got up and walked over by the shed where they could look up at the bell.
“There isn’t any string tied to the clapper,” says Batten. “I thought it might be a black thread—some kid trick. If it is a kid I’d like to catch him a minute.” He looked good and mad and a little frightened, which is a bad combination. I said to myself I’d be in for a good mauling if he did catch me.
I was having too much fun, though, to quit, so I let her have another one. This time I hit it sort of glancing on the side, and it rang, all right, but the pebble went bouncing off and whanged against the side of the shed not a yard from Batten, and fell almost at his feet. He couldn’t help seeing it.
“Well,” says I to myself, “you’ve gone and spilled the beans now.” And I had, too. Batten stooped over and picked up the pebble and then looked around to see where it could have come from. It didn’t take more than a cabbage-head to puzzle that out, for I was in about the only place where a fellow could hide and shoot at the bell—outside of the icehouse. Batten didn’t wait for anything, but came running right at the fence, and Bill was at his heels.
I didn’t wait.
The orchard was behind me, and I turned, letting out a holler, and was off through it, running faster than I ever ran before. Batten and Bill had to climb the fence, which gave me a good start, and the trees kept them from getting a good sight of me. I made for the road, which was foolish, but when a fellow’s frightened he’s likely to do foolish things. You see, I wanted to get where I could run faster, and didn’t stop to think that the men who were after me would be able to run faster, too. I should have kept to the fields and the woods. A heavy man can’t get over the ground when it’s rough and bumpy like a boy can.