Tom Newcombe; Or, the Boy of Bad Habits

by Harry Castlemon

“O, nonsense!” exclaimed Johnny. “You’re the strongest fellow in the party, and you could pull that wagon from here to the farm and back again, with all the boys in it. Go ahead, Newcombe! We’ll keep the dogs here!”

“But suppose I can’t catch the horse?” persisted Tom. “Perhaps he kicks or bites strangers.”

“O, no, he don’t. He’s as gentle as an old cow. You’ll have no trouble. Go on, Newcombe! We haven’t got much more time to waste.”

Tom, finding that the boys were determined that he should do all the work, at length succeeded in mustering up courage enough to start off alone. As he walked by the house, he glanced in at the window, the curtain of which was raised, and saw the ’squire, sitting in his easy chair, and the other members of his family gathered about a table, engaged in various evening occupations. The ’squire had, of course, heard the noise made by his dogs, but, thinking that they were barking at persons who every evening passed by his house on the way to their own homes, he did not trouble himself about the matter.

After satisfying himself that none of the family had been alarmed, Tom again started off. Reaching the stable, he carefully unlatched the gate, and placed a stick of wood against it to keep it open; then, seizing the thills of the wagon, he prepared to make an exhibition of that tremendous strength which had won for him from the Night-hawks the name of being the “strongest fellow in the party.” The wagon was not a heavy one, but it must have been rooted to the ground; for Tom, for a long time, exerted his muscles in vain. The grand commander, however, always worked harder and more perseveringly in a bad cause than he did in a good one, and at last the wagon moved; and after considerable pulling and grunting, Tom succeeded in drawing it through the gate into the road. After listening again, to be sure that no one in the house had heard what was going on, and that Johnny was still successful in occupying the attention of the dogs, Tom closed and fastened the gate; and again taking hold of the wagon, pulled it down the road toward the place where the main body of the Night-hawks were hidden behind the fence, impatiently waiting for him. Tom’s spirits rose considerably when he found that he had successfully accomplished part of his work; and when the Night-hawks sprang from their concealments, and took hold to help him along with the wagon, he did not ask any of them to assist him in catching the horse. The numerous congratulations he received from his friends, who called him a “jolly old brick,” and a “spunky boy,” accompanied by repeated assurances that they had always known that he was the “strongest and bravest fellow in the society,” greatly encouraged him; and had the horse been locked up in the stable, he would not have hesitated to make the attempt to bring him out.

When they had pulled the wagon as far as the fence which bounded the lower end of the pasture, Tom ordered a halt, and taking the bridle out of the wagon, climbed over into the inclosure to catch the horse. This was a signal to the Night-hawks, who, thinking that there was still a chance for discovery, hid themselves behind the fence, or stood in readiness to run off, should the ’squire’s dogs make their appearance. As for Tom, he had suddenly become very reckless, and he did not trouble his head about the dogs, or the ’squire either. The horse proved to be very gentle, as Johnny had said he would, and the grand commander had no difficulty in catching him and slipping the bridle over his head. He then led him up to the fence, a portion of which—it being built of rails—was thrown down by the Night-hawks, who again made their appearance; and, after the horse had been led into the road, some built up the fence again, others began to harness the horse, and two of the members, in obedience to Tom’s orders, ran off to inform Johnny that every thing was ready for the start. By the time Harding and his friends arrived, the horse had been hitched to the wagon, and Tom sat on the seat, with a whip in one hand and the reins in the other.

“All aboard, fellows!” whispered the grand commander, and the Night-hawks, thirteen in number, tumbled into the wagon, which moved off on the road to ’Squire Thompson’s farm. Tom had conducted all his operations in a very cautious manner, and no one in the house had been alarmed.

“Newcombe,” whispered Johnny, as Tom drove off, “if there was no danger of being overheard, we’d give you nine rousing cheers. You’re a genuine brick.”

The congratulations the chief received for the skill and bravery he had exhibited, were much more numerous than refined. The Night-hawks said and did every thing they could to convince him that they held his services in high appreciation; and Tom listened eagerly to all their compliments.

It was two miles to the farm; but Tom, being anxious to reach home again as soon as possible, put whip to the horse, which whirled his wagon load of mischievous Night-hawks rapidly over the road; and, at the end of half an hour, Tom drew up before the gate of ’Squire Thompson’s farm and stopped. Johnny Harding sprang out of the wagon and opened the gate; after which Tom drove on, until he reached a barn, which was situated near the middle of the farm. Here he stopped again, and the Night-hawks, springing out of the wagon, started off in different directions to hunt up the vegetables—all except the grand commander, who, according to the agreement made before starting, was not required to assist in loading the cargo. There was now no danger of discovery. There was a house on the farm, but no one lived in it, and it was an easy matter to conduct their operations without making noise enough to alarm any of the neighbors.