Junior had good reason for bringing Merton to a sudden halt in his impetuous and hostile advance. The man coming up the lane, with a savage dog, was the father of the ill-nurtured children. He had felt a little uneasy as to the results of their raid upon our fruit, and had walked across the fields to give them the encouragement of his presence, or to cover their retreat, which he now did effectually.
It took Junior but a moment to explain to my boy that they were no match "for the two brutes," as he expressed himself, adding, "The man is worse than the dog."
Merton, however, was almost reckless from anger and a sense of unprovoked wrong, and he darted into the house for his gun.
"See here, Merton," said Junior, firmly, "shoot the dog if they set him on us, but never fire at a human being. You'd better give me the gun; I am cooler than you are."
They had no occasion to use the weapon, however. The man shook his fist at them, while his children indulged in taunts and coarse derision. The dog, sharing their spirit and not their discretion, started for the boys, but was recalled, and our undesirable neighbors departed leisurely.
All this was related to me after nightfall, when I returned with my wife and younger children from the Maizeville Landing. I confess that I fully shared Merton's anger, although I listened quietly.
"You grow white, Robert, when you are angry," said my wife. "I suppose that's the most dangerous kind of heat—white-heat. Don't take the matter so to heart. We can't risk getting the ill-will of these ugly people. You know what Mr. Jones said about them."
"This question shall be settled in twenty-four hours!" I replied. "That man and his family are the pest of the neighborhood, and everyone lives in a sort of abject dread of them. Now, the neighbors must say 'yes' or 'no' to the question whether we shall have decency, law, and order, or not. Merton, unharness the horse. Junior, come with me; I'm going to see your father."
I found Mr. Jones sleepy and about to retire, but his blue eyes were soon wide open, with an angry fire in them.
"You take the matter very quietly, Mr. Durham;" he said; "more quietly than I could."