“I will,” replied Chap. “You needn’t laugh. A fellow can do big things when he has justice on his side.”
The boys did not go into the harvest-field again that afternoon. They both went over to the Poole place, to tell Phœnix the wonderful news.
“It pays better to run a wreck into the mud,” said Phœnix, when he heard the story, “than to hoist one out of it.”
“Now, look here,” cried Chap, “it’s no use talking that way. Just wait till our wreck is hoisted out of the mud!”
“All right,” said Phœnix, “I’ll wait.”
When the matter of the division was talked of, Phœnix fully agreed with Chap to hand over the whole amount to Phil, and to wait for repayment until Mr. Berkeley’s return. Phœnix, however, made one reservation: If there should be any money left over after the Tourons’ claims had been fully paid, he would like to have a dollar and a quarter. He had lost his knife, and it would take that much money to buy him another like it. It was a dreadfully awkward thing to be without a knife. This was agreed to, and the matter was settled.
That evening, Mr. Alexander Muller came into Boontown, after a long walk. He determined to stay in town for some days, and took lodgings at the tavern which young Touron had lately left. The room that Emile had occupied was given to him, and soon after supper he was glad to hang his black straw hat on the rack in the hall, and go up-stairs to bed.
But he did not sleep well. He had bad dreams. He dreamed that he was taking a journey by rail, but he did not travel in the ordinary way. Instead of being in a car which ran upon the track, he was lying at full length upon a rail, which was carried by two brakemen. This rail seemed much unlike other rails. It was not smooth and even, but was full of jagged points and knots and sharp bends, which ran into his back and made him very uncomfortable. He moved and wriggled about, but could not get on any part of the rail where it was smooth. He tried to fall off, but he found that this was impossible. So he went on and on, the brakemen sometimes stumbling and falling on their knees, which made the jagged points run into him worse than ever.
At last he woke up, and when his eyes were fully opened, he said to himself,—
“I never slept so uncomfortably in my life. My back aches as if it had been threshed with a flail. There must be something in this bed.”