The brute reluctantly obeyed, while Nugget sought shelter in a young tree.
The angry man turned to the three boys—for Clay had by this time joined the others.
"Get out as quick as you can," he resumed. "I can't stand here all night."
For an instant no one replied. Ned was bent on making another appeal, and was thinking how he could best word it. The chances were that a little persuasion would have induced the farmer to relent, and permit the boys to remain where they were until morning.
But Randy's unfortunate temper blazed up just then, and made a breach that was too wide to be healed.
"It's a confounded shame to turn us off at this time of night," he muttered angrily. "I wouldn't treat a dog that way. If this is a sample of country breeding I'm glad I don't—"
"Keep quiet, Randy," whispered Ned; "you're only making things worse."
The warning came too late.
"You audacious sauce box," cried the farmer. "I'll learn you manners. Take that—and that."
He seized Randy by the collar, and cuffed him soundly on the ears three or four times. Then he dropped him and turned to the others. "Now git out o' here, or I'll treat you-uns the same way," he snarled.