Bill crept up to bed a little earlier than usual. He knew that Mr. Badger would not ascend to his humble room to administer the threatened punishment till nine o’clock or later.
Through a refinement of cruelty that humane gentleman chose to let his intended victim lie in an anxious anticipation of the flogging, thus making it assume greater terror.
In fact, he probably would not return from the village till nine o’clock or later, and this was an additional reason why he put it off.
His absence made it easier for Bill to carry out the plan which had been formed for him by his trusty friend, Dick Schmidt, and escape from the house.
He accomplished his escape unnoticed about half-past eight o’clock.
Dick was waiting for him behind the barn. He had been a little afraid that Bill would repent the promise he had made and back out. When he saw him he welcomed him gladly.
“I was afraid you wouldn’t dare to come, Bill,” he said.
“I shan’t be any worse off,” said the bound boy. “Mr. Badger was going to give me a flogging, anyway, and he can’t do any more than that as it is.”
“What an old brute he is!” exclaimed Dick.
“He isn’t as bad as his wife or Andrew Jackson.”