“I say, come down from there, you young villain!” repeated the ’squire, shaking his cane at the culprit, as if he intended to use it on him the moment he reached the ground. “Do you hear me?”
“O, yes, I hear you!” drawled Tom; “but I sha’n’t come down till you send those dogs off.”
Seeing that Tom was resolved not to leave his perch so long as the dogs remained there, the ’squire called them into the barn and shut them up, after which he again ordered Tom to come down.
The grand commander obeyed this order very reluctantly, for he had not yet been able to decide what treatment he would receive from the ’squire. That gentleman had addressed him in the kindest possible language, and then, almost in the same breath, had called him a young scoundrel, and had shaken his cane at him, as if impatient to get an opportunity to lay it over his shoulders. He did not feel altogether safe; but now, that the dogs were gone, he could offer no excuse for remaining in the tree; so he slowly descended, and finally stood before the ’squire, who lifted his lantern and allowed its rays to fall full in his face.
“You look mean, Tommy,” said he; “don’t you feel so?”
“O, yes, I do,” drawled the grand commander.
The ’squire stood looking at his prisoner for a moment, as if undecided how to act, and finally continued:
“Go home, and remember to steer clear of bad company in future.”
Tom did not wait for a second bidding, but quickly opened the gate, and started down the road with all the speed he could command.