The young master of Hyson Hall

by Frank R. Stockton

So the two companions went slowly onward, leading Kit, until they came to a house where Phil had stopped earlier in the day, and where the people agreed to keep the boys and the horses for the night.

“I should feel worried about things at home,” said Phil, “if I didn’t know that Joel will be back before dark, and that Susan will make him and his mother come up to the house to sleep. They did that once before, when uncle and I were away for a night.”

Emile certainly had no mercy on the horse he drove. He had looked back when he reached the top of a rise in the road, and had seen the boys riding after him, and he believed they were still in pursuit.

He was afraid to throw away the gun for fear they would pick it up, and if they got it he felt sure they would shoot him. He knew they must have ammunition with them, for he had seen the powder-horn and shot-flask tied to Jouncer’s saddle.

When he neared the town he felt almost sure he had distanced them, and he slackened his pace, but he found no opportunity of getting rid of the gun. Here and there he met people returning from their work, and although dusk was coming on, it was by no means dark enough for him to throw away a gun without attracting observation.

But he felt he must get rid of it. No one must see it in his possession. If he could hide it until after dark he would throw it into the river.

When he entered the town, he drove up a side street to his tavern, and stopped before he reached the corner of the main street on which the house fronted. There was a back door open, and no one was to be seen in this part of the premises. With the gun in his hand, Emile slipped quietly into the house and ran up-stairs to his room without meeting any one. There he laid Old Bruden between the two mattresses of his bed, and came down-stairs again. Jumping into the buggy he drove round to the grocer’s, delivered up the horse and buggy, and paid for their hire.

Then he walked into the tavern and made inquiries about supper. While waiting for this meal his mind became greatly troubled. Those boys would certainly be along directly, and they might have him arrested. The house was now lighted up, and people were going about. He was afraid he would have no chance very soon to get that gun out of the house.

Then a thought struck him. Perhaps the gun was not loaded after all, and in that case he could assert that he was only trying to frighten Phil. He ran up-stairs, locked the door, and took the gun from the bed. There was no ramrod in it, but Emile had a long thin switch which he had cut for a walking-stick, and with this he measured the outside of the barrels and then the inside. The gun was certainly loaded, and he had no means of getting the loads out.

With a sickening feeling of fear he put Old Bruden back between the mattresses, smoothed the bedclothes, and went down-stairs. Then he walked over to the railroad station and asked when the next train would start for New York.