T. Haviland Hicks, Senior

by James Raymond Elderdice

Amid ferocious howls from Caesar Napoleon, and alarmed protests from the
paralyzed Hicks, who could not have run, with his wobbly knees, had he
been set free by his captors, old Bildad, towed from the house by Caesar
Napoleon, who strained savagely at the leash until his face bulged, burst
upon the scene with impressive dramatic effect! It was difficult to decide,
without due consideration, which was the more interesting. Bildad, a huge,
gnarled old Viking, with matted gray hair, bushy eyebrows, a flowing beard,
and leathery face, a fierce-looking giant, was appalling to behold, but so
was Caesar Napoleon, an immense bulldog, cruel, bloodthirsty, his massive
jaws working convulsively, his ugly fangs gleaming, as he set his great
body against the leash, and gave evidence of a sincere desire to make free
lunch of the Bannister youths. As Buster Brown afterward stated, "Neither
one would take the booby prize at a beauty show, but at that, the bulldog
had a better chance than Bildad!" T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., let it be
recorded, could not have qualified as a judge, since his undivided
attention was awarded to Caesar Napoleon!

"What d'ye want round here, ye rapscallions?" demanded Bildad, courteously,
holding the savage bulldog with one hand, and constructing a ponderous
fist with the other, "Hike—git off'n my land, y'hear? Git, er Caesar
Napoleon'll git holt o' them scanty duds ye got on!"

"We want to—to buy some cherries, Mr.—Mr. Bildad!" explained Bunch
Bingham, edging away nervously. "We won't steal any, honest, sir. Well pay
you for them the very next time you come to the campus with milk and eggs."

"Ho! Ho!" roared old Bildad, piratically, his colossal body shaking, "A
likely tale, lads—an' when I come for my money, ye'll jeer me off the
campus, an' tell me to whistle for it! Off my land—git, an' don't let me
cotch ye on it inside o' two minutes, or I'll let Caesar Napoleon make a
meal off'n yer bones—git!"

To express it briefly, they got. T, Haviland Hicks, Jr., not standing on
the order of his going, set off at a sprint that, while it might have
caused Ted Meredith to lose sleep, also aroused in Caesar Napoleon an
overwhelming desire to take out after the fugitive youth, so that Mr.
Bildad was forced to exert his vast strength to hold the massive bulldog.
Butch, Beef, Hefty, Tug, Buster, Bunch, Pudge, and Biff, a pachydermic
crew, awed by Caesar Napoleon's bloodthirsty actions, jogged off in the
wake of Hicks, who confidently expected to hear the bulldog giving tongue,
on his trail, at every second.

Another lane, making in from a road making a cross-roads with the one
from which they came to Bildad's house, ran alongside the orchard for two
hundred yards, inside the fence; at its end was a high roadgate. At
what they decided was a safe distance from the "war zone," the
Heavy-Weight-White-Hope-Brigade, and T. Haviland Hicks, Jr., the latter
forcibly restrained from widening the margin between him and peril, held a
council on preparedness.

"The old pirate!" stormed Butch Brewster, gazing back to where the vast
figure of old Bildad, striding toward the house, towered. "We can't let him
get away with that, fellows. I'll have some of his cherries now, or—"

"No, no—don't, Butch!" chattered Hicks, whose dread of dogs amounted to
an obsession. "He can still see us, and if you leave the lane, he will send
Caesar Napoleon after us! Oh, don't—"

But Butch Brewster, evidently wrathful at being balked, strode from the
path, or lane, of virtue, toward a cherry-tree, whose red fruit hung
temptingly low, and his example was followed by every one of the Brigade,
leaving the terrified Hicks to wait in the lane, where, because of his
alarm, he had no time to wonder at the bravado of his behemoth comrades.
However, finding that Bildad had disappeared, and believing he had taken
Caesar Napoleon into the house, the sunny Hicks, who was far from a coward
otherwise, but who had an unreasonable dread of dogs, little or big, was
about to wax courageous, and join his team-mates, when a wild shout burst
from Pudge Langdon:

"Run, fellows—run! Bildad's put the bulldog on us! Here comes—Caesar
Napoleon—!"