CHAPTER XI.
AN ANGRY MISER.
“I say!” shouted Mr. Stebbins, in a stentorian voice. “Be you gone clean deaf—you two? Come down from there, I tell you, or I’ll send you to kingdom come afore you can bat your eyes.”
The astonished boys lost no time in waking up. The sight of the cocked gun and the angry man’s face was enough to banish sleep most effectually.
“I knowed you was here for no good the first time I seen you,” continued Mr. Stebbins. “Your gun and your poles is only a blind to make folks b’lieve that you come up here to hunt and fish; but I know you. I seen you run in here after shootin’ off your guns to skeer me; but I’ve got a gun, too, an’ I know how to use it. Come down from there, I say! Come down, an’ clear out!”
The boys began to understand the matter now, and Dick saw at once that it was necessary to take some precautions for the safety of himself and his friend.
The old man was so highly excited that he hardly knew what he was doing. His finger was resting on the trigger of his ancient flint-lock, and, if the weapon should be discharged by any accident, Bob Howard would never know what hurt him.
In order to avoid this danger, Dick thought it best to compel Mr. Stebbins to lower his gun, which he did by picking up his double-barrel and resting it across his knees in such a way that its muzzle was directed toward the old man’s head.
“What are you about there?” yelled the latter.
He took the flint-lock down from his shoulder, sprang through the door with surprising agility, and then turned around and looked back, keeping his body concealed, and showing nothing but his eyes and two little tufts of stiff gray hair.
