“What in the world has he got to blow, and how have I trusted him?” asked Tom, rather sharply. “I didn’t tell him to turn the sail-boats adrift or to steal the guests’ hunting-dogs, did I? I simply told him what I should do if I were in his place.”
“But you intended it for a suggestion, and hoped he would act upon it, didn’t you?”
“Well, that’s a different matter,” answered Tom. “If he tries to revenge himself upon the citizens of Mount Airy for refusing to employ him or to buy his fish, and his efforts in that direction bring him into trouble, it will be his own fault. You and I want to see some of these conceited fellows, who think they know more and are better than any body else, brought down a peg or two, and if that squatter is accommodating enough to do the work for us—why, I say let him do it.”
Tom continued to talk in this way for a long time, and to such good purpose that when they reached home his cousins had forgotten their fears, and even expressed much interest and curiosity regarding the course of action that Matt Coyle might see fit to pursue. If he followed Tom’s suggestion and built his shanty on the shore of Sherwin’s pond, they might expect to hear from him before many days more had passed away.
“I hope that if Matt does take it into his head to do any thing, he’ll run off Wayring’s sail-boat,” said Loren, gazing proudly at his own beautiful little sloop, which rode at her moorings in front of the boat-house. He had brought her up there on purpose to beat the Young Republic, which was said to be one of the swiftest boats on the lake; but the first time they came together under sail, the Republic had run away from her would-be rival with all ease, and it began to look as though the “Challenge Cup” would become Joe’s own property. He had won it twice, and if he won it again it would be his to keep. There were those in the village who didn’t want to see him get it. They had expected great things of the Uncle Sam—that was the name of Loren’s boat—and indeed she did look like a “flyer”; but when they witnessed the short race, which Joe Wayring purposely brought about one afternoon to test the Uncle Sam’s speed, they were much disappointed, and told one another that the cup was Joe’s for a certainty.
“If Matt will only take that boat, I’ll win the next regatta,” continued Loren. “If he does take her, Joe will never see her again, for she will be smashed to pieces in the rapids.”
“If I could have my way, I should prefer to have Matt run off Joe’s Rob Roy, for then you and Ralph would stand a chance of winning some of the canoe races,” observed Tom. “But, of course, he couldn’t steal the canoe without breaking into the boat-house, and that would send him up for burglary.”
“Oh, no; he won’t do that,” exclaimed Loren.
Tom made no audible reply, but to himself he said:
“I don’t suppose he will; but I might do it, and let Joe and the rest blame Matt Coyle for it.”