When the bell rang at four o’clock, the boys came out; and among them was Bob Hardy, the son of a poor farm laborer.
“It’s a shame,” muttered Bob, “to make a row ’bout an accident. Of course the schoolmaster had to take some notice of it. He is talking to little Ralph now. I told him Ralph did not mean to do it. Just the same, I’ll smash old Gregor’s windows for him.”
And Bob meant to do it, too. When all were asleep, he made his way down to the schoolhouse by moonlight, with a pocketful of stones.
He climbed the wall of the playground, and stood there all ready to open fire, when a voice startled him, a sort of shivering whisper. “Better not, Bob! better wait a bit!” said the voice.
Bob dropped the stone and looked about; but there was no one near him except the snowman shining weirdly in the pale moonlight. However, the words set Bob to thinking, and instead of breaking Mr. Gregor’s windows, he went home again and got into bed.
II
That was in January; and when January was done February came, as happens in most years. February brought good fortune—at least Bob’s mother said so, for she got work at the squire’s for which she was well paid.
But it did not turn out to be such very good fortune, after all; for the butler said she stole a silver spoon, and told the squire so; and if the butler could have proved what he said, the squire would have sent her to prison; but he could not, so she got off; and Bob’s mother declared that she had no doubt the butler took the spoon himself.
“All right,” said Bob to himself, “I’ll try the strength of my new oaken stick across that butler’s back.” And he meant it too, for that very evening he shouldered his cudgel and tramped away to the big house. When he got there the door stood wide open; so in he walked.