Cyrus Sutton seemed to be confused for the minute, as though he had scared up some strange sort of animal, and he stared until the dark figure began to grow dim in the distance.
Even then he might not have said or done anything had not Bud Heyland heard the noise and come clambering over the fence after him.
"Why don't you shoot him?" demanded Bud; "he's a spy that has been listening! Let's capture him! Come on! It will never do for him to get away! If we can't overhaul him, we can shoot him on the fly!"
The impetuous Bud struck across the lot much the same as a frightened ox would have done when galloping. He was in dead earnest, for he and Sutton had been discussing some important schemes, which it would not do for outsiders to learn anything about.
He held his pistol in hand, and was resolved that the spy should not escape him. The skurrying figure was dimly visible in the moonlight, but in his haste and[Pg 147] excitement Bud probably did not observe that the object of the chase was of very short stature.
Sutton kept close beside Bud, occasionally falling a little behind, as though it was hard work.
"He's running as fast as we," said Sutton; "you had better hail him."
Bud Heyland did so on the instant.
"Hold on there! Stop! Surrender and you will be spared! If you don't stop I'll shoot!"
Master Frederick Sheldon believed he was running for life, and, finding he was not overtaken, he redoubled his exertions, his chubby legs carrying him along with a speed which astonished even himself.
The terrible hail of his pursuer instead of "bringing him to," therefore, only spurred him to greater exertions.
"I give you warning," called out Bud, beginning to pant from the severity of his exertion, "that I'll shoot, and when I take aim I'm always sure to hit something."
"That's what makes me so afraid," said Sutton, dropping a little behind, "for I think I'm in more danger than the one ahead."
Bud Heyland now raised his revolver and sighted as well as he could at the shadowy figure, which was beginning to edge off to the left. A person on a full run is not certain to make a good shot, and when the weapon was discharged, the bullet missed the fugitive by at least a dozen feet if not more.
Bud lowered the pistol and looked to see the daring intruder fall to the ground, but he did not do so, and continued on at the same surprising gait.
[Pg 148]
"That bullet grazed him," said Bud, bringing up his pistol again; "just see how I'll make him drop this time; fix your eye on him, and when I pull the trigger he'll give a yell and jump right up in the air."
To make his aim sure, beyond all possibility of failure, the panting pursuer came to a halt for a moment, and resting the barrel on his left arm, as though he were a duelist, he took "dead aim" at the lad and again pulled the trigger.
But there is no reason to believe that he came any nearer the mark than in the former instance; and when Sutton said with a laugh:
"I don't see him jump and yell, Bud," the marksman, retorted:
"You'd better shoot yourself, then."
"No; I was afraid you would shoot me instead of him. I think you came nearer me than you did him. Hark! Did you hear the man laugh then. He don't mind us so long as we keep shooting at him."
"Did he laugh?" demanded Bud, savagely. "If he laughed at me he shall die!"
Hurriedly replacing his useless pistol in his pocket he resumed his pursuit with fierce energy, for he was resolved on overhauling the man who had dared to listen to what had been said.
Had Bud been alone he would have left the pursuit to some one else, but with the muscular Cyrus Sutton at his back he was running over with courage and vengeance.
Although the halt had been a brief one, yet it could[Pg 149] not fail to prove of advantage to the fugitive, who was speeding with might and main across the meadow, and had begun to work off to the left, because he was anxious to reach the shelter of some woods, where he was hopeful of dodging his pursuers.
It would seem that Bud Heyland and Cyrus Sutton could easily outspeed such a small boy as Fred Sheldon, but they were so bulky that it was much harder work for them to run, and they could not last so long.
Hitherto they had lumbered along pretty heavily, but now they settled down to work with all the vigor they possessed, realizing that it was useless to expect to capture the fugitive in any other way.
Meanwhile Fred Sheldon was doing his "level best;" active and quick in his movements he could run rapidly for one of his years, and could keep it up much longer than those behind him, though for a short distance their speed was the greater.
Dreading, as he did, to fall into the hands of Bud Heyland and his lawless companion, he put forth all the power at his command, and glancing over his shoulder now and then he kept up his flight with an energy that taxed his strength and endurance to the utmost.
When he found that they were not gaining on him he was encouraged, but greatly frightened by the pistol-shots. He was sure that one of the bullets went through his hat and the other grazed his ear, but so long as they didn't disable him he meant to keep going.
He was nearly across the meadow when he recalled that he was speeding directly toward a worm-fence which[Pg 150] separated it from the adjoining field. It would take a few precious seconds to surmount that, and he turned diagonally toward the left, as has been stated, because by taking such a course, he could reach the edge of a small stretch of woods, in whose shadows he hoped to secure shelter from his would-be captors.
This change in the line of flight could not fail to operate to the disadvantage of the fugitive, for a time at least, for, being understood by Bud and Cyrus, they swerved still more, and sped along with increased speed, so that they rapidly recovered the ground lost a short time before.
They were aiming to cut off Fred, who saw his danger at once, and changed his course to what might be called "straight away" again, throwing his pursuers directly behind him.
This checked the scheme for the time, but it deprived Fred of his great hope of going over the fence directly into the darkness of the woods.
As it was, he was now speeding toward the high worm-fence which separated the field he was in from the one adjoining.
Already he could see the long, crooked line of rails, as they stretched out to the right and left in front of him, disappearing in the gloom and looking like mingling lines of India ink against the sky beyond.
Even in such stirring moments odd thoughts come to us, and Fred, while on the dead run, compared in his mind the fence rails to the crooked and erratic lines he had drawn with his pen on a sheet of white paper.
[Pg 151]
Although he could leap higher in the air and further on the level than any lad of his age, he knew better than to try and vault such a fence. As he approached it, therefore, he slackened his gait slightly, and springing upward with one foot on the middle rail, he placed the other instantly after on the topmost one and went over like a greyhound, with scarcely any hesitation, continuing his flight, and once more swerving to the left toward the woods on which he now fixed his hopes.
Possibly Bud Heyland thought that the fact of his being attached to Colonel Bandman's great menagerie and circus called upon him to perform greater athletic feats; for instead of imitating the more prudent course of the fugitive, he made a tremendous effort to clear the fence with one bound.
He would have succeeded but for the top three rails. As it was his rather large feet struck them, and he went over with a crash, his hat flying off and his head ploughing quite a furrow in the ground.
Bud Heyland fell headlong over the fence in pursuit of Fred
Bud Heyland fell headlong over the fence in pursuit of Fred.—(See page 151.)
He rolled over several times, and as he picked himself up it seemed as if most of his bones were broken and he never had been so jarred in all his life.
"Did you fall?" asked Cyrus Sutton, unable to suppress his laughter, as he climbed hastily after him.
"I tripped a little," was the angry reply, "and I don't see anything to laugh at; come on! we'll have him yet!"
To the astonishment of the cattle dealer, Bud caught up his hat and resumed the pursuit with only a moment's delay, and limping only slightly from his severe shaking up.
[Pg 152]
Fred Sheldon was dimly visible making for the woods, and the two followed, Sutton just a little behind his friend.
"You might as well give it up," said the elder; "he's got too much of a start and is making for cover."
"I'm bound to have him before he can reach it, and I'll pay him for all this."
No more than one hundred feet separated the parties, when Fred, beginning to feel the effects of his severe exertion, darted in among the shadows of the wood, and, hardly knowing what was the best to do, threw himself flat on the ground, behind the trunk of a large tree, where he lay panting and afraid the loud throbbing of his heart would betray him to his pursuers, who were so close behind him.
Had he been given a single minute more he would have made a sharp turn in his course, and thus could have thrown them off the track without difficulty; but, as it was—we shall see.
Bud Heyland rushed by within a few feet, and halted a couple of yards beyond, while Sutton stopped within a third of that distance, where Fred lay flat on the ground.
"Do you hear him?" asked Bud.
"Hear him? No; he's given us the slip, and it's all time thrown away to hunt further for him."
Bud uttered an angry exclamation and stood a few minutes listening for some sound that would tell where the eavesdropper was.
But nothing was heard, and Sutton moved forward,[Pg 154] passing so close to Fred that the latter could have reached out his hand and touched him.
"How could he help seeing me?" the boy asked himself, as the man joined Bud Heyland, and the two turned off and moved in the direction of the highway.
Some distance away Bud Heyland and Sutton stopped and talked together in such low tones that Fred Sheldon could only hear the murmur of their voices, as he did when he first learned of their presence beside the road.
But it is, perhaps, needless to say that he was content to let them hold their conference in peace, without any effort on his part to overhear any more of it. He was only too glad to let them alone, and to indulge a hope that they would be equally considerate toward him.
Bud would have continued the search much longer and with a strong probability of success had not Sutton persuaded him that it was only a waste of time to do so. Accordingly they resumed their walk, with many expressions of impatience over their failure to capture the individual who dared to discover their secrets in such an underhanded way.
"He looked to me like a very small man," said Bud, as he walked slowly along, dusting the dirt from his clothing and rubbing the many bruised portions of his body.
"Of course he was," replied Sutton, "or he wouldn't have gone into that kind of business."
"I don't mean that; he seemed like a short man."
"Yes, so he was, but there are plenty of full-grown men in this world who are no taller than he."
[Pg 155]
"It's too bad, I broke my pipe all to pieces when I fell over the fence, and jammed the stem half way down my throat."
"I thought you had broken your neck," said Sutton, "and you ought to be thankful that you did not."
Bud muttered an ill-natured reply, and the two soon after debouched into the highway, along which they continued until the house of the younger was reached, where they stopped a minute or so for a few more words, when they separated for the night.
Fred Sheldon waited until they were far beyond sight and hearing, when he cautiously rose to his feet and stood for a short time to make sure he could leave the spot without detection.
"I guess I've had enough for one night," he said with a sigh, as he turned off across the meadow until he reached the border of the lane, along which he walked until he knocked at the door of the Misses Perkinpine, where he was admitted with the same cordiality that was always shown him.
They seemed to think he had stayed at the hired man's house for a chat with Bud, and made no inquiries, while the boy himself did not deem it best to tell what had befallen him.
His recent experience had been so severe upon him that he felt hungry enough to eat another supper, and he would not have required a second invitation to do so, but, as the first was not given, he concluded to deny himself for the once.
Fred expected to lie awake a long time after going to[Pg 156] bed, trying to solve the meaning of the few significant words he had overheard, but he fell asleep almost immediately, and did not wake until called by Aunt Lizzie.
This was Friday, the last school-day of the week, and he made sure of being on hand in time. As he had been absent by the permission of his mother, made known through a note sent before she went to see her brother, Mr. McCurtis could not take him to task for his failure to attend school, but a number of lads who had been tempted away by the circus and the excitement over the escaped lion were punished severely.
However, they absented themselves with a full knowledge of what would follow, and took the bitter dregs with the sweet, content to have the pain if they might first have the pleasure.
"I have excused several of you," said the teacher, peering very keenly through his glasses at Fred, "for absence, but I have not been asked to excuse any failure in lessons, and I do not intend to do so. Those who have been loitering and wasting their time will soon make it appear when called on to recite, and they must be prepared for the consequences."
This remark was intended especially for Fred, who was thankful that he found out what the lessons of the day were, for he had prepared himself perfectly.
And it was well he did so, for the teacher seemed determined to puzzle him. Fred was asked every sort of question the lesson could suggest. It had always been said by Mrs. Sheldon that Fred never knew a lesson so long as he failed to see clear through it, and could answer any question germane to it.
[Pg 157]
He felt the wisdom of such instruction on this occasion, when the teacher at the end of the examination allowed him to take his seat and remarked, half angrily:
"There's a boy who knows his lessons, which is more than I can say of a good many of you. I think it will be a good thing for him to go out and hunt a few more lions."
This was intended as a witticism on the part of the teacher, and, like the urchins of Goldsmith's "Deserted Village," they all laughed with "counterfeit glee," some of the boys roaring as if they would fall off the benches from the excess of their mirth.
Mr. McCurtis smiled grimly, and felt it was another proof that when he became a school teacher the world lost one of its greatest comedians and wits.
At recess and noon Fred was quite a hero among the scholars. They gathered about him and he had to tell the story over and over again, as well as the dreadful feelings that must have been his when he woke up in the night and found that a real, live burglar was in his room.
Like most boys of his age, Fred unconsciously exaggerated in telling the narratives so often, but he certainly deserved credit, not only for his genuine bravery, but for the self-restraint that enabled him to keep back some other things he might have related which would have raised him still more in the admiration of his young friends.
"I'm going to tell them to mother first of all," was[Pg 158] his conclusion, "and I will take her advice as to what I should do."
He brought the lunch the Misses Perkinpine had put up for him, and stayed in the neighborhood of the school-house all noon, with a number of others, who lived some distance away. As the weather was quite warm, the boys sat under a tree, talking over the stirring incidents of the preceding few days.
Fred was answering a question for the twentieth time, when he was alarmed by the sudden appearance of Bud Heyland, with his trousers tucked in his boots, his briar-wood pipe—that is, a new one—in his mouth, and his blacksnake-whip in hand.
As he walked along he looked at the school-house very narrowly, almost coming to a full stop, and acting as though he was searching for some one. He did not observe that half a dozen boys were stretched out in the shadow of the big tree across the road.
"Keep still!" said Fred, in a whisper, "and maybe he won't see us."
But young Heyland was not to be misled so easily. Observing that the school was dismissed, he looked all around him, and quickly espied the little fellows lolling in the shade, when he immediately walked over toward them.
Fred Sheldon's heart was in his mouth on the instant, for he was sure Bud was looking for him.
"He must have known me last night," he thought, "and as he couldn't catch me then he has come to pay me off now."
[Pg 159]
But it would have been a confession of guilt to start and run, and Bud would be certain to overtake him before he could go far, so the boy did not stir from the ground on which he was reclining.
"Halloo, Bud," called out several, as he approached. "How are you getting along?"
"None of your business," was the characteristic answer; "is Fred Sheldon there?"
"I'm here," said Fred, rising to the sitting position. "What do you want of me?"
Bud Heyland acted curiously. He looked sharply at the boy, and then said:
"I don't want anything of you just now, but I'll see you later," and without anything further he moved on, leaving our hero wondering why he had not asked for the ten dollars due him.
Fred expected he would return, and was greatly relieved when the teacher appeared and school was called. Fearful that the bully would wait for him on the road, Fred went to the old brick mansion first, where he stayed till dark, when he decided to run over to his own home, look after matters there, and then return by a new route to the old ladies who were so kind to him.
He kept a sharp lookout on the road, but saw nothing of either Bud or Cyrus Sutton.
"It seems to me," said Fred to himself, as he approached the old familiar spot, "that I ought to hear something from mother by this time. There isn't any school to-morrow, and I'll walk over to Uncle Will's and find out when she's coming home, and then I'll tell her[Pg 160] all I've got to tell, which is so much, with what I want to ask, that it'll take me a week to get through—halloo! What does that mean?"
He stopped short in the road, for through the closed blinds of the lower story he caught the twinkling rays of a light that some one had started within.
"I wonder whether it is our house they're going to rob to-night," exclaimed Fred, adding the next moment, with a grim humor: "If it is, they will be more disappointed than they ever were in their lives."
A minute's thought satisfied him that no one with a view to robbery was there, for the good reason that there was nothing to steal, as anyone would be quick to learn.
"It must be some tramp prowling around in the hope of getting something to eat. Anyway, I will soon find out——"
Just then the window was raised, the shutters thrown wide open by some person, who leaned part way out the window in full view.
One glance was enough for Fred Sheldon to recognize that face and form, the dearest on earth, as seen in the starlight, with the yellow rays of the lamp behind them.
"Halloo, mother! Ain't I glad to see you? How are you? Bless your dear soul! What made you stay away so long?"
"Fred, my own boy!"
And leaning out the window she threw both arms about the neck of the lad, who in turn threw his about her, just as the two always did when they met after a brief separation.
[Pg 161]
The fact of it was, Fred Sheldon was in love with his mother and always had been, and that sort of boy is sure to make his mark in this world.
A few minutes later the happy boy had entered the house and was sitting at the tea table, eating very little and talking very much.
The mother told him that his uncle had been dangerously ill, but had begun to mend that day, and was now believed to have passed the crisis of his fever, and would soon get well. She therefore expected to stay with her boy all the time.
And then the delighted little fellow began his story, or rather series of stories, while the kind eyes of the handsome and proud parent were fixed on the boy with an interest which could not have been stronger.
Her face paled when, in his own graphic way, he pictured his lonely watch in the old brick mansion, and the dreadful discovery that the wicked tramp had entered the building stealthily behind him. She shuddered to think that her loved one had been so imperiled, and was thankful indeed that Providence had protected him.
Then the story of the lion, of its unexpected breaking out from the cage, the panic of the audience, his encounter with it in the lane, its entry into the smoke-house, his shutting the door, and finally how he earned and received the reward. All this was told with a childish simplicity and truthfulness which would have thrilled any one who had a less personal interest than the boy's mother.
[Pg 162]
As I have said, there were no secrets that the son kept from his parent. He told how he saw that the tramp wore false whiskers and how he dropped a knife on the floor, which he got and showed to his mother, explaining to her at the same time that the letters were the initials of the young man known through the neighborhood as "Bud" Heyland.
"That may all be," said she, smilingly, "and yet Bud may be as innocent as you or I."
"How is that?" asked Fred, wonderingly.
"He may have traded or lost the knife, or some one may have stolen it and left it there on purpose to turn suspicion toward Bud. Such things have been done many a time, and it is odd that anyone could drop a knife in such a place without knowing it."
Fred opened his eyes.
"Then Bud is innocent, you think?"
"No, I believe he is guilty, for you say you were pretty sure of his voice, but it won't do to be too certain. As to the other man, who misled you when you met him in the lane, it is a hard thing to say who he is."
"Why, mother, I'm surer of him than I am of Bud, and I'm dead sure of him, you know."
"What are your reasons?"
Fred gave them as they are already known to the reader. The wise little woman listened attentively, and said when he had finished:
"I don't wonder that you think as you do, but you once was as sure, as I understand, of Mr. Kincade, the one who paid you the reward."
[Pg 163]
"That is so," assented Fred, "but I hadn't had so much time to think over the whole matter."
"Very probably you are right, for they are intimate, and they are staying in the neighborhood for no good. Tell me just what you heard them say last night, when they sat on the rock by the roadside. Be careful not to put in any words of your own, but give only precisely what you know were spoken by the two."
The boy did as requested, the mother now and then asking a question and keeping him down close to the task of telling only the plain, simple truth, concerning which there was so much of interest to both.
When he was through she said the words of the two showed that some wicked scheme was in contemplation, though nothing had been heard to indicate its precise nature.
The matter having been fully told the question remained—and it was the great one which underlay all others—what could Fred do to earn the large reward offered by the two ladies who had lost their property?
"Remember," said his mother, thoughtfully, "you are only a small boy fourteen years old, and it is not reasonable to think you can out-general two bad persons who have learned to be cunning in all they do."
"Nor was it reasonable to think I would out-general a big lion," said Fred, with a laugh, as he leaned on his mother's lap and looked up in her eyes.
"No; but that lion was old and harmless; he might have spent the remainder of his days in this neighborhood without any one being in danger."
[Pg 164]
"But we didn't know that."
"But you know that Bud Heyland and this Mr. Sutton are much older than you and are experienced in evil doing."
"So was the lion," ventured Fred, slyly, quite hopeful of earning the prize on which he had set his heart. "I have been thinking that maybe I ought to tell Mr. Jackson, the constable, about the knife, with Bud's name on it."
"No," said the mother. "It isn't best to tell him anything, for he has little discretion. He boasts too much about what he is going to do; the wise and skilful man never does that."
Mrs. Sheldon had "gauged" the fussy little constable accurately when she thus described him.
"Fred," suddenly said his mother, "do not the Misses Perkinpine expect you to stay at their house to-night?"
"Yes, I told them I would be back, and they will be greatly surprised, for I didn't say anything about your coming home, because I thought Uncle Will was so sick you wouldn't be able to leave him."
"Then you had better run over and explain why it is you cannot stay with them to-night."
The affectionate boy disliked to leave his mother when they were holding such a pleasant conversation, but he could please her only by doing so, and donning his broad-brimmed straw hat, and bidding her good-night, passed out the door, promising soon to return.
Fred was so anxious to spend the evening at home[Pg 165] that he broke into a trot the instant he passed out the gate, and kept it up along the highway until he reached the short lane, which was so familiar to him.
The same eagerness to return caused him to forget one fact that had hitherto impressed him, which was that the conspiracy of Bud Heyland and Cyrus Sutton was intended to be carried out this same evening.
The boy had gone almost the length of the lane when he was surprised to observe a point of light moving about in the shadow of the trees, the night being darker than the previous one.
"What under the sun can that be?" he asked, stopping short and scrutinizing it with an interest that may be imagined.
Viewed from where he stood, it looked like a jack-o'-lantern, or a candle which some one held in his hand while moving about.
It had that swaying, up-and-down motion, such as a person makes when walking rapidly, while now and then it shot up a little higher, as though the bearer had raised it over his head to get a better view of his surroundings.
"Well, that beats everything I ever heard of," muttered Fred, resuming his walk toward the house; "it must be some kind of a lantern, and maybe it's one of them dark ones which robbers use, and they are taking a look at the outside to see which is the best way of getting inside, though I don't think there is anything left for them."
The distance to the house was so short that Fred soon reached the yard. On his way thither the strange light[Pg 166] vanished several times, only to reappear again, its occasional eclipse, no doubt, being due to the intervening vegetation.
When the boy came closer he saw that the lantern was held in the hand of Aunt Lizzie, who was walking slowly around the yard, with her sister by her side, while they peered here and there with great deliberation and care.
"Why, Aunt Lizzie!" called out Fred, as he came up, "what are you looking for?"
The good ladies turned toward him with a faint gasp of fright, and then gave utterance to an expression of thankfulness.
"Why, Frederick, we are looking for you," was the reply, and then, complimenting his truthfulness, she added, "you promised to come back, and we knew you wouldn't tell a story, and sister and I thought maybe you were hungry and sick somewhere around the yard, and if so we were going to get you into the house and give you some supper."
"Why, aunties, I've had supper," laughed Fred, amused beyond measure at the simplicity of the good ladies.
"We didn't suppose that made any difference," was the kind remark of the good ladies, who showed by the observation that they had a pretty accurate knowledge after all of this particular specimen of boyhood.