The boys had neared the fountain in the centre of the park. At this season, it was never or seldom playing; but some repairs had been found necessary, and the workmen had had the jet in action for some hours, and the large basin around it was full of water. The boys stopped beside it, not noticing a tall figure which sat upon one of the park benches near.
"Nothing mean about him!" repeated Rob in a loud voice, which might easily be heard on the other side of the fountain, "nothing mean about Theodore Yorke! He's the meanest sneak in our school, or out of it, either! I'll tell you why Jim pitched into him. He's been stealing peanuts off of Jim's stand when the little hunchback's head was turned. I saw him, more than once, and I wasn't going to have it any longer; so I told Jim, and I'd just told him of it when Theodore came on eating peanuts, the very ones, for all I know, that I saw him steal this morning; and no wonder Jim's spirit was up, and he pitched into him. I wish he'd had it out with him, too, before Mr. Leeds came up. If he was going to be punished, he might as well be hung for a sheep as a lamb. And Jim's never said a word, I s'pose, or let on what he did it for; and you let him take all the blame. Bah! I wouldn't be you, for a cart-load of peanuts!"
"You didn't see me, either. I don't know what you're talking about!" stammered Theodore, so taken aback by the damaging testimony of this unexpected witness of his sin, that he lost all self-possession, and his looks proclaimed him guilty of the offence with which he was charged.
Uprose from the bench beyond the group the figure sitting there, and, striding towards the still unobservant boys, laid one hand upon Theodore's collar, the other on that of Rob; and the startled Theodore looked up into the stern, set face of his grandfather.
"Have I heerd aright?" said the old man in his righteous wrath. "Have I heerd my gran'son called a thief, an' a sneak, what let a boy like Jim be blamed for doin' what he had a right to do, if what this 'ere feller says is true?—Kin ye prove it?" turning to Rob, while he still kept a tight hold on either boy.
"Yes, I can," said Rob, maintaining his ground, although he was a little frightened by the captain's looks and tones; and once more he rehearsed the story in all its details.
By this time several persons, attracted by the somewhat unusual spectacle of an old man holding two boys by their collars, had stopped to hear what was going on; and there were symptoms of a crowd. Seeing this from afar, a policeman bore down upon the scene,—the very one who had had the dispute with the captain as to the propriety of Daisy playing peanut-vender on the street-corner.
As he came near, Captain Yorke released his hold upon Rob's collar; then tightening that upon Theodore's, the still stalwart old seaman lifted the boy from his feet, and, stepping close to the basin of the fountain, plunged him over his head in the icy water. The day had been a mild one, sunny and bright, for spring was in the air; but the water was still sufficiently cold to make such a sudden plunge any thing but pleasant, and this summary method of punishment, well deserved though most of the spectators knew it to be, was not to be tolerated in such a public place. So thought the policeman who now came running up, as the captain, having given his grandson three good dips, lifted him dripping and shivering from the basin, and placed him upon his feet.
"PLUNGED HIM OVER HIS HEAD IN THE ICY WATER."—Page 214.