TIM BUNKER
Captain Sedley was much disturbed by the painful event which had
occurred; and though the club were entirely free from blame, he could
not but question the expediency of continuing the organization. The
malicious spirit of Tim Bunker had been the cause of his misfortune.
People thought he was lucky to escape with his life, and that it would
be a lesson he would remember a great many years.
Tony's praises were upon everybody's lips. He had saved the life of his
enemy, had plunged in at the risk of his own, to rescue one who had
been intent upon his injury. It was a noble and a Christian deed, so
the good men and women said, while others declared, if they had been in
Tony's place, they would have let him drown.
The noble deed was appreciated; and the day after the event, a
subscription paper was opened at the Rippleton Bank for Tony's benefit.
Before night over a hundred dollars was collected, which the cashier
presented to him, as he lay upon his bed, sick from the effects of his
exertions.
The crew of the boat club were very highly commended for their
efficient labors on the occasion. If Frank had displayed less courage
and address, or the discipline of the club had been less perfect, Tim
must certainly have been drowned. This fact was rendered the more
apparent by the contrast between the conduct of the crew of the Zephyr
and that of the Thunderbolt. With all their exertion, on account of
their want of discipline, the latter had been unable even to reach the
spot until the former had received Tim on board.
All the sympathies of the people were with the boat club. Nobody pitied
Tim; for he was a quarrelsome, disagreeable boy, and had nearly lost
his life in his attempt to gratify his malicious spite against his
noble and generous deliverer.
In a few days Tony, who had suffered more from the shock than Tim, was
able to go out again. He was everywhere received with enthusiasm; and
the first time the Zephyr visited Rippleton after the accident, people
seemed determined to make a little lion of him.
Captain Sedley's attention was now directed to the trial of Tony, which
would take place in a few days, and he was exceedingly desirous of
ascertaining how Tim was affected towards him since the rescue. But the
Thunderbolt had been laid up at Joe Braman's landing, and the Bunkers
appeared to be dispersed and separated since the accident. Captain
Sedley did not find their leader for several days, but at last he made
a visit to his father's house before Tim got up.
The young ruffian was very desirous of avoiding him; and when his
mother went up-stairs and told him who had come, he put on his clothes,
and slipped out of the house by the back door. Captain Sedley happened
to see him, however, as he was skulking off through the garden.
"Tim," said he, running after him.
The leader of the Bunkers did not dare to run away from such an
influential person as Captain Sedley; and, turning, he doggedly
approached him.
"Tim, I want to see you about the trial, which, you know, takes place
in a few days."
"I don't know nothin' about it."
"You don't?" said Captain Sedley.
"No, I don't;" and Tim, fixing his eyes upon the ground, amused himself
by kicking a hole in the soil with his foot.
"Don't you know anything about the wallet, or the money that was in
it?"
"No, I don't."
"Just think a moment."
"Don't want to think; I don't know nothin' about it," replied Tim
sulkily.
"Tony is accused of the crime, and you know what a terrible thing it
would be to have an innocent person suffer."
"I s'pose it would."
"You know Tony saved your life."
"So I needn't be evidence against him," growled Tim.
Captain Sedley was astonished at his want of even the commonest feeling
of gratitude.
"If that had been his motive, he would have let you drown."
"I wonder he didn't."
"Tim, you are utterly hardened in iniquity."
"No, I ain't."
"You have no gratitude towards your deliverer."
"Yes, I have; I am much obliged to him for what he done, and when I see
him, I'll tell him so."
"You do not _seem_ in the least obliged to him."
"I am; and besides, the folks gave him over a hundred dollars for what
he done. I should like to jump in after a dozen on the same terms."
"You have nothing to say about the trial then, have you, Tim?"
"Don't know nothin' about it. All I can say is, I saw him stickin'
somethin' into his pocket."
"You bought the boat in which you have been sailing on the lake."
"No, I didn't; it is Joe Braman's," replied Tim stoutly.
"Didn't you tell the boys that you gave him ten dollars for it?"
"No, I didn't."
"And that you paid five dollars for having it fitted up?"
"I was only joking--tryin' to sell 'em," answered Tim, attempting to
smile and look funny.
"That was it, was it?"
"That's all."
"And you have not paid Joe Braman any money?"
"Not a cent."
"Tim," said Captain Sedley sternly, "people think that you stole the
wallet."
"Me! I hope to die if I did!"
"That you took some of the money out, and then put the wallet into
Tony's pocket, so as to fasten the guilt on him."
"No such thing!"
"Just consider, Tim. If you did, you had better confess it."
"I didn't."
"Only think that Tony saved your life."
"I've nothin' against him."
"But you ought to be for him. If you have injured him in this matter,
people will think a great deal better of you, if you confess it, and
ask his forgiveness, whatever the consequences may be to yourself."
"I hain't hurt him."
"If you are the guilty one, it will certainly come out at the trial."
"I ain't; I don't know nothin' about the wallet. I'm sure I didn't take
it--I hope to die if I did!"
"Very well, Tim; if you have made up your mind not to confess it, I
have nothing more to say."
"I ain't a going to confess it when I didn't do it," said Tim stoutly.
"But you did do it, Tim."
"No, I didn't nuther."
"I am surprised at your hardihood. Tony saved your life at the peril of
his own, and yet you are willing to see him convicted of a crime which
you committed yourself."
"Who says I did?" said Tim, not a little confused by the directness
with which Captain Sedley spoke to him.
"I say it, Tim. Once more, will you free Tony from the charge by
telling the truth?"
"I have told the truth."
"No, you haven't, Tim. Will you confess the crime, and save Tony?"
"No, I won't; I didn't do it."
"Very well," replied Captain Sedley, as he left the young reprobate.
Tim did not know what to make of it. Why Captain Sedley should lay it
to him, he could not tell, unless it was on account of what he had said
to Fred Harper about buying the Thunderbolt. He was uneasy, and spent
the forenoon in wandering about the woods back of his father's house.
He felt as though something was going to happen, though he could not
tell precisely what.
He had eaten no breakfast, and at noon he was driven home by hunger.
But he had scarcely seated himself at the dinner-table before a knock
was heard at the door.
"Go to the door, Tim," said his father.
"I don't want to go," answered Tim, with a whine.
A kind of dread had taken possession of him since his interview with
Captain Sedley in the morning, and every noise he heard seemed to
foretell that something was about to occur.
"Go, this minute!" said his father sternly.
"Don't want to."
"But you shall."
Tim, finding there was no escape, rose, and went to the door. To his
consternation he beheld Mr. Headley, the constable! He felt as though
he should drop through the floor. His heart beat so violently that he
could hardly stand up.
"I want you, Tim," said Mr. Headley.
"Me!" gasped Tim.
"Get your cap, and come along."
"What for?"
"I'll tell you when you get to the jail."
Tim drew a long breath, and went back for his cap.
"Who is it, Tim?" asked his father.
But Tim made no reply, and instead of returning to the front door, he
took his cap and sneaked out through the back room. The woods were
close by, and the hope of escaping inspired him with new courage.
Throwing open the back door, he rushed out.
"So, so! my fine fellow!" exclaimed the constable, who stood before the
door, and into whose arms he had thrown himself as he leaped down the
doorsteps. "This is your plan, is it? We'll give you the ruffles,
then."
So saying, Mr. Headley took a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, and
fastened them upon Tim's wrists.
"I didn't steal the wallet," cried Tim lustily, as he struggled to get
away.
"You must come with me," replied the constable, holding him fast.
[Illustration: You must come with Me. _P._ 279.]
Tim's father and mother came to the door, as Mr. Headley marched him
off. They asked the officer what he was doing with their son. Without
stopping to give any details, he told them the boy was wanted for
stealing Farmer Whipple's wallet.