Dick and Brownie Part 10

"I tell you that there's my dog! He was stolen from me, and I'm going to 'ave the law of whoever's got 'im."

Tom Smith went bl.u.s.tering back into the public-house, almost speechless with anger. To have been so near d.i.c.k and then to have missed him, was almost more than he could bear. If he had known he had missed Huldah too, he would have been even more angry.

"You can't have the law of people for taking in a stray," remarked one man, quietly. They none of them liked Tom Smith, and most of them wished he would go on his way and leave them to their quiet gossip.

"Perhaps he ran away," suggested another, drily.

Tom Smith glowered at him sullenly. "What should he run away for?"

he asked, sharply.

"Well, that's more'n I can say," answered the man, calmly.

"It seems to be his way, by the look of him just now. Dogs do it sometimes, when they think they'd like a change."

"I know he didn't run away; he was stolen, and I'd give five s.h.i.+llings to know who'd got him, and where he lives."

He did not mean what he said, and he never intended to part with five s.h.i.+llings, but he did want to find d.i.c.k, and he meant to do it, too.

For once he was taken at his word.

"Hand over your five bob. I can tell you where the dog lives."

The voice came from over by the window, and all eyes were turned in that direction. A young man, a stranger to all there, was standing leaning eagerly towards Tom Smith, his hand held out. He had been sitting silent until this moment, but listening attentively to all that was being said.

Tom Smith turned towards him, looking very foolish; and, as usual, when he felt small he began to bl.u.s.ter. "Likely tale I'm going to hand over five s.h.i.+llings now! How do I know you knows anything about the dog; what one I means, or where he lives, or anything at all about him? Besides, I don't give the five bob unless I actually gets hold of the dog."

"I tell you I do know him; he's a yaller dog, a long-legged thing with a short tail, and he goes about with a girl, and he's called d.i.c.k. I shouldn't have said I know'd him if I didn't."

"A girl!" Tom Smith's cruel eyes lightened with eagerness.

"Have you seen a girl with him? a kid about twelve-year old?

When? Now? Are you sure? Why, 'twas she that stole him!"

"What should a child of that age want to steal a dog for?" asked one of the other men.

"Better ask her, if you want to know!" retorted the other, rudely.

"I'll give 'ee another s.h.i.+lling if you can help me lay my hands on the both of them."

"Right you are," agreed Bob, promptly, and without a single qualm of conscience. "We'd better start; 'tis about four miles from here they live, and it'll be dark soon."

"Ugh!" Tom Smith looked vexed; he was a lazy man, and he did not relish the prospect of a four miles' tramp. "I've got to wait for my old woman to come back," he muttered.

Emma Smith was going round the town with a big basket of tins and brushes and things, trying to sell some, while he hung about the public-house, enjoying himself doing nothing. Her round was a long one, and few people seemed tempted to buy of such a slovenly, disagreeable-looking woman, one who grew rude too, if people did not want any of her goods.

So it was that Huldah had got safely home without being overtaken, and once within that cosy kitchen felt herself safe from all danger.

She little dreamed that at that moment the three persons she feared most in the world were starting out from Belmouth in search of her.

Poor Huldah!

It was six o'clock and quite dark by the time the trio, and Charlie and the van, reached Wood End; and many a time before they got there Bob Thorp would have thrown up the job, if he had not wanted the money so badly. For the whole of the four miles Tom Smith grumbled, bullied his wife, beat Charlie, and snapped and snarled at everyone and everything.

"I don't wonder at anybody's running away from you," remarked Bob at last, losing all patience. "If I was your wife I'd do the same."

Whereupon Tom snarled again with rage, "She'd better let me catch her trying it on, that's all," he said, threateningly, and glared at his wife, as though she had threatened to do so.

A little way beyond the village they drew up, and without troubling to ask anyone's leave Tom drove the van into a field,--where they had no possible right to be, and poor tired Charlie and his tired mistress were left to themselves for, at any rate, a few minutes'

peace.

The two men walked on again in silence until they reached the top of Woodend Lane, There Bob Thorp drew up, and showed a decided disinclination to go any further.

"'Tis down there they live, the first cottage you come to; you can't mistake it. There's only an old woman, I b'lieve, besides the girl and the dog. I'd better keep away, 'cause they knows me, leastways the girl does, and--and the dog. If you'll hand over that six bob now, I'll be getting home. I've got a good step to go yet."

Tom Smith agreed almost pleasantly. "Right you are," he said, diving his hand into an inside pocket, "and, thank 'ee, I'll manage the rest, and I'd better manage it alone. I don't want to draw my friends into any trouble over it,--leastways not those that have done me a good turn."

He fumbled for some time over the counting out of the money, but when at last he had put it into Bob's hand, the latter turned abruptly away, and with only a brief 'good-night' plunged hurriedly down the dark lane.

"Good-night," said Bob, "and thank 'ee. Three florins isn't it?"

But Tom Smith was out of sight, and Bob was glad to hurry away too, as fast as his legs could take him. He did not feel altogether pleased, though he did try to cheer himself by c.h.i.n.king his money in his pocket, and planning how he would spend it. All the way he went he seemed to see again Huldah's pained, sorrowful face, as she knelt in the road beside her dog, and tried to shelter him with her own body. How she must love the ugly yellow creature, and how he loved her! and how they would feel it, if they were parted. What a life they'd lead, if they had to go back to the van and that ill-tempered, grumbling pair!

"I couldn't wish anybody any worse harm than to have to live with that fellow," he muttered to himself. "'Tis a poor look-out for 'em, poor toads!"

The thought of Huldah, and the desire not to be mixed up in the affair, sent him home and to bed, to be out of the way. So he went to sleep, and tried to forget what he had done, and his three florins remained untouched in his pocket until morning.

In the meantime Tom Smith had made his way stealthily down the lane until he reached the little cottage. At the gate he stopped, and peering about him, listened for a time, while he tried to plan what his first move should be. Should he be civil and friendly, or should he just go in and frighten them all? As he stood there debating he looked like some mean beast of prey, waiting to spring on his victim.

A cheerful light shone out of one of the little windows, and in the stillness of the night the sound of voices reached him. One he recognised at once as Huldah's. A savoury smell of cooking was wafted out to him, and roused him to greater anger.

"That little hussy is a-selling of her baskets, I'll be bound, and she and the old woman live on the fat of the land with the money that they bring. My baskets, I calls 'em. It's sheer thieving! A fine old yarn she'll have told, too, and a nice character she'll have give'd me, ugh, the little--"

A ripple of laughter sounded through the silence. To him it seemed as though Huldah were mocking him. Hesitating no longer, he strode up the path and knocked heavily on the door. Instantly the voices and the laughter ceased. There was a spring at the door and a growl.

d.i.c.k had scented the enemy! Then after a moment's pause a voice asked timidly, "Who is there?"

Tom Smith heard the alarm in the voice, and rejoiced. It gave him the greatest pleasure always to know that he inspired fear in anyone.

"Open the door. It's me, Tom Smith, and I've come after that dog of mine that you've stole!"

No answer came, nor was the door opened.

"Open the door, I say, or I'll fetch the police for you! pack of thieves that you are!"

The threat of the police would have made Huldah smile, if she had not been in such a state of terror for herself, and even more so for d.i.c.k. She knew that her "uncle" would not go within a mile of a policeman if he could help it. Indeed, she longed and prayed for a policeman to come along then, that she might appeal to him for protection.

Unfortunately for them, though, not even a bolt stood between them and their enemy, and before Huldah could step forward to shoot it, or turn the key, the latch was raised, and Tom Smith was in the kitchen.

With one well-aimed kick he sent d.i.c.k into the furthest corner, and with equally sure aim he seized Huldah by the wrist. "Now, you come along of me, and no nonsense, do you hear? A fine dance you've led me and your poor aunt! You deserves a good hiding, both of 'ee, and I ain't sure but what you'll get it yet."

"Let her alone," gasped Mrs. Perry, "let her go--she isn't yours.

You've no--right--to her." Her face was grey white, her heart seemed to have stopped beating, and she could hardly speak.

Tom Smith took no notice of her whatever, he was not going to waste time in arguing--bullying was more in his line. "Now then, come along. If you makes any noise, I'll turn the p'lice on the old lady there, for harbouring thieves and receiving stolen property.

Stop it now!" as Huldah wrenched herself away. "P'raps that'll teach you," and he caught her a heavy blow on the ear.

Mrs. Perry screamed. "Don't hurt her--oh, don't do them any harm!"

she pleaded. "Promise not--to beat them." It seemed to her impossible to resist him, they were helpless there, those two alone.

Huldah and d.i.c.k must go.