Robert Coverdale's Struggle Part 47

"I don't feel very well, d.i.c.k."

"You ought not to be at work. Have you had dinner?"

"I am not to have any."

"Why not?" asked d.i.c.k, opening his eyes. "I knew old Badger was mean, but I didn't think he was mean enough for that!"

"It's a punishment," Bill explained.

"What for?"

"For hitting Andrew Jackson with a hoe and knocking him down."

"Did you do that, Bill?" exclaimed d.i.c.k in great delight, for he disliked Mr. Badger's petted heir. "I didn't think it was in you! Shake hands, old fellow, and tell me all about it."

"I am afraid it was wicked, d.i.c.k, but I couldn't help it. I must have hurt him, for he screamed very loud."

"Better and better! I know how he treats you, Bill, and I tell you it'll do him good--the young tyrant! But you haven't told me about it."

Bill told the story, to which d.i.c.k listened with earnest attention. He expressed hearty approval of Bill's course and declared that he would have done the same.

"So you are in disgrace," he said. "Never mind. Bill. It'll all come out right. It is worth something to have punished that young bully. But what's the matter, Bill? What makes you so pale?"

"I think it's going without my dinner. The hard work makes me hungry."

"Just wait a minute. I'll be back in a jiffy!"

d.i.c.k was off like a shot. When he returned he brought with him two slices of bread and b.u.t.ter, a slice of cold meat and two apples.

"Eat 'em, Bill," he said. "They'll make you feel better."

"Oh, d.i.c.k! I didn't want to trouble you so much."

"It was no trouble, old fellow."

"What will your mother say to your taking all this?"

"She'll be glad of it. She isn't so mean as Mrs. Badger. I say, Bill, you must come over and take supper with us some time. There's plenty to eat at our house."

"I should like to, d.i.c.k, if Mr. Badger would let me."

"Don't talk any more till you have eaten what I brought you."

Bill obeyed his friend's directions, and, to d.i.c.k's great satisfaction, ate all that had been brought him with evident appet.i.te.

"I feel a good deal better," he said as he took the hoe once more and set to work. "I feel strong now."

"It's lucky I came along. I say. Bill, is that your only punishment?"

A shadow came over Bill's face.

"I am to be flogged this evening," he said. "Mr. Badger told me so, and he always keeps his word."

d.i.c.k set his teeth and clinched his fists.

"I'd like to flog old Badger," he said energetically. "Are you going to stand it?"

"I can't help it, d.i.c.k."

"I'd help it!" said his friend, nodding emphatically.

Bill shook his head despondently.

The whipping seemed to him inevitable, and there seemed to be no way of avoiding it.

"What time do you expect he will whip you--the old brute?" asked d.i.c.k.

"He waits till nine o'clock, just after I have gone to bed."

"Then will you follow my advice?"

"What is it?"

d.i.c.k whispered in Bill's ear the plan he had in view. There was no need to whisper, but he did it to show that the communication was confidential.

This was the plan:

Bill was to go to bed as usual, but in about fifteen minutes he was to get out of the window, slide along the roof of the L and descend to the ground, when d.i.c.k was to meet him, escort him to his house and allow him to share his room for the night.

"Then," said he, "when the old man comes up to tackle you he'll have to pound the bed and get his satisfaction out of that. Won't that be a splendid joke?"

Bill smiled faintly. It seemed to him a daring defiance of Mr. Badger, but, after all, he wouldn't fare any worse than he was sure of doing, and he finally acquiesced, though with serious doubts as to the propriety of the plan.

"Don't say a word to let 'em know what you're going to do. Bill--mind that!"

"No, I won't."

"You'll be sure to find me waiting for you outside the house, just at the back of the barn. I'll give you some supper when you reach the house."

When the bound boy came from work in the evening he met stern, cold looks from Mr. and Mrs. Badger, but Andrew Jackson wore a look of triumphant malice. He was gloating over the punishment in reserve for the boy whom he so groundlessly hated.

"Ain't you hungry?" he said tauntingly.

Bill looked at him, but did not answer.

"Oh, you needn't answer. I know you are," said the young tyrant. "You didn't like it very much, going without your dinner. You ain't going to have any supper, either. If you're very hungry, though, and will go down on your knees and beg my pardon, I'll get you something to eat. What do you say?"

"I won't do what you say," said Bill slowly. "I don't care enough for supper to do that."