CHAPTER V.

ATKINS REFUSES DUTY.

Tom Newcombe had his first fight that night. He resisted the active

young farmer who had seized him, to the best of his ability, although,

for all the good it did him, he might as well have surrendered himself a

prisoner at once. But the captain of the Crusoe band had a great many

reasons for not wishing to be taken prisoner. In the first place, he was

pretty well known in that country, and he was afraid that the farmer

might recognize in him the son of the richest man in Newport; and, even

if he did not, he would know that Tom had come from the village, and he

would, of course, take him back there in the morning. Then what would

become of him? What would his father do? and what would Johnny Harding,

and the rest of the fellows, have to say about it? Above all, what would

become of the expedition, and the plan he had laid for destroying the

Storm King? His capture would put an end to all the bright dreams in

which he had indulged during the past two weeks, and he would once more

find himself an errand-boy in his father's office, deprived of every

privilege, watched more closely than ever, and teased and tormented by

his thoughtless acquaintances, who would never allow him a moment's

peace. Tom thought of all these things, and he was surprised at himself

when he found that he was fighting for his liberty with a courage and

determination he had never supposed himself to possess. He kicked and

thrashed about at an astonishing rate, and finding that his efforts were

wholly in vain, he tried to frighten his captor by threatening him with

a terrible vengeance if he did not immediately release him.

"What do you mean?" roared Tom, striving desperately to unclasp the

strong fingers that were holding fast to his collar. "Let me up, or I'll

give you cause to remember this night's work as long as you live. Let me

up, I say."

"Well, I swan!" exclaimed the farmer, peering down into Tom's face, "I

thought you made a poor fight for a man." Then hearing footsteps behind

him, he looked up, and called out to some one who was approaching--"I

say, Josh, they're only little brats of boys; they aint men at all. I

wish I had a good apple-tree switch."

"O, now, you wouldn't use it on me if you had one," drawled Tom.

"Wouldn't! I'd like to know what's the reason?"

"Because you wouldn't dare do it. I always get even with any one who

imposes on me, so you had better mind what you are about."

"I don't want any insolence now, for I aint in just the mood to stand

it. If you and your crowd are the same fellows who have been prowling

around here for the last week, you have stolen more than twenty dollars

worth of garden truck. Get up here, you young robber!"

The farmer jerked his prisoner roughly to his feet, and by this time

Josh came up. The arrival of re-enforcements, and the ease with which he

was handled, convinced Tom that further resistance was useless, and he

began to beg lustily.

"O, now, if you will let me go I'll never do it again," he pleaded.

"O yes, we'll let you go," was the encouraging reply. "We'll lock you up

till morning, and then take you over to the 'squire; that's what we'll

do with you. Catch hold of him, Josh."

His captor held fast to one arm, Josh took hold of the other, and Tom

was marched off between them. Of course he pulled back, and tried hard

to escape; but the stalwart young farmers walked him along without the

least difficulty. When they reached the house, they pulled him up the

steps that led to the porch, and opening a door, ushered him into the

kitchen, where Tom found himself in the presence of the female portion

of the farmer's family.

"Here's one of the rogues, mother," exclaimed Josh. "Sit down, and let's

have a good look at you."

If Tom at that moment could have purchased his freedom by promising that

he would give up his new idea, and leave the students in quiet

possession of the Storm King, he would have done it, gladly. He sank

into the chair Josh pointed out to him, and sat with his chin resting on

his breast, and his eyes fastened on the floor, not daring to look up

long enough to ascertain whether or not there was any one in the room

with whom he was acquainted. He knew that half a dozen pairs of eyes

were looking at him with curiosity; and he felt that if he had never

before been utterly disgraced, he was now. No one spoke to him, and in a

few minutes the silence became so oppressive that Tom would have

welcomed a thunderstorm, or an earthquake. He twisted about in his

chair, whirled his cap in his hand, and gazed steadily at a crack in the

floor, until he was relieved by the noise of feet on the porch, which

was followed by the entrance of the farmer, with the rest of the party

who had been guarding the potato-patch. Then, for the first time, he

mustered up courage enough to look around him. He noted two things--one

was, that every person in the room was a stranger to him; and the other,

that he had a companion in his misery, in the shape of his mate, who,

unlike his superior officer, did not seem to be at all abashed at

finding himself the center of so many eyes. He held his head up, and

looked about him as if he felt quite at his ease.

"Well, we've got two of them," said the farmer, in a tone of great

satisfaction, "and I guess we've frightened the others so badly that

they'll let us alone in future. But how is this?" he added, glancing

first at the rich man's son, and than at the ragged, bare-footed

ferry-boy. "There must have been two parties of them."

"No, there wasn't," said Xury. "We all belong to one crowd."

"What's your name?" continued the farmer, addressing himself to the

captain of the Crusoe band.

"O, now, I'm Tom--"

"Avast, there!" cried Xury, so suddenly that he startled every one in

the room. "His name is Muley, mister--that's his name."

"Muley? Muley what?"

"Muley nothin'--just Muley. That's all the name he's got. My name is

Xury, an' that's all the name I've got."

Tom was astonished at the impudence of his mate. He had been on the

point of revealing every thing, for, now that he was a prisoner, he

could not see the use of further concealment. According to his way of

thinking, the expedition had been nipped in the bud, his splendid idea

could not be carried out, and if the farmer had questioned him closely,

he would have told him all about the Crusoe men and their hiding-place.

It made no difference to Tom that he had promised to keep these things

secret. He was in trouble, and all he cared for was to get out of it.

Xury, however, was a very different sort of boy. He had promised never

to reveal any of the secrets intrusted to his keeping, he had sealed the

compact by shaking hands with his chief, and he would have endured

almost any punishment before proving himself unworthy of the confidence

of his fellows. Besides, he did not believe that the affairs of the band

were so very desperate. He knew that the governor would never desert

him, and as long as he and Tom remained on the island, there were some

hopes that those of the band who had escaped would find means to effect

their release.

"Of course I know that those are not your right names," said the farmer,

at length, "but I am not particular about that, for when I take you to

the village to-morrow, I can find out all about you. What did you intend

to do with those potatoes?"

"Eat 'em," answered Xury. "What else does a feller do with taters?"

"Have you eaten all the fruit and vegetables you have stolen during the

last week?"

"Sartin."

"Well, I'll put you where you won't steal any more to-night. Josh, you

and Bill take them down cellar and leave them there with the rats."

"That don't scare me none," said Xury. "I never saw no rats yet I was

afraid of. What will you do with us in the mornin', mister?"

"I intend to break up these midnight plundering expeditions, by making

an example of you. I shall take you before 'Squire Thompson."

"What do you reckon he'll do with us?"

"He will put you in the House of Refuge for three or four years, most

likely, and I think that would be a good place for you. Take them away,

boys."

Josh lighted a candle and led the way into the cellar, followed by Tom

and his mate, Bill bringing up the rear. While the young farmers were

examining the windows and door, to make sure that their prisoners could

not escape, Tom took a hurried survey of his quarters, which he found

to be cheerless in the extreme. Three sides of the cellar were supplied

with windows--narrow apertures, placed about as high as his head from

the floor, and protected by stout iron bars which were set into the

walls. On the fourth side was a heavy door, secured by a padlock. Tom

took these things in at a glance, and quite agreed with Josh, when he

said,

"Now, then, you young robbers, you are secure for the night."

"And I would advise you to keep quiet, and not go to kicking up any fuss

down here," chimed in Bill. "If you feel like going to sleep, you can

lie down on those boxes."

Josh and Bill took their departure, and the Crusoe men were left to

their meditations, and to the companionship of the rats. Tom heard them

close and lock the door at the head of the stairs, and, groping his way

to a box in one corner of the cellar, he sat down to think over his

situation; while Xury, whistling softly to himself, began an examination

of the windows. This coolness and indifference amazed Tom, who could not

understand how a boy, with the prospect before him of serving out a term

of years in the House of Refuge, could take matters so easily.

"O, now, quit that whistling," drawled Tom, who found it hard work to

keep back his tears.

"What fur?" demanded Xury. "There's no use of bein' down in the mouth,

cap'n. Scoldin' an' frettin' won't help us none."

"Did any body ever see so unlucky a boy as I am? Other fellows get along

through the world without any trouble, but something is always happening

to bother me. To-morrow morning I shall be taken back to the village."

"Well, I sha'n't. I aint goin' back to Newport till the governor says

the word."

"But those men up stairs will make you go," drawled Tom.

"They'll have to find me first, won't they? If they think they can keep

a Crusoe man in this cellar all night, they'll find out their mistake in

the mornin'. They'll go to bed before long, an' then we'll see what we

can do."

As Xury said this, he stretched himself out on the box beside his

captain, and settling into a comfortable position, waited patiently for

the farmer and his family to retire to rest. He expected to be free

before morning; and, as his examination had satisfied him that he could

not effect his escape without assistance, he was depending entirely upon

the governor. Had he known what was going on at that moment, a short

distance from the house, he might not have had so much faith in the

chief's ability to release him.

Sam, Jack Spaniard, Friday, and Will Atkins, more fortunate than their

fellows, succeeded in eluding their pursuers, and met on the bluff,

above the cove, and sat down to rest after their long run, and to talk

over the events of the night. The governor reported the capture of Tom

and his mate. He was but a short distance from them when they were

overtaken, although he did not know who the unlucky ones were, until he

met the band on the cliff. The Crusoe men were dismayed when they

learned the extent of their loss, and some of them were strongly in

favor of abandoning their enterprise. Will Atkins, especially, was very

much disheartened, and urged his companions to return to the village at

once.

"The jig is up now, fellers," said he, "an' I, fur one, am goin' home.

Tommy an' Xury are captured, an' the first thing we know, we may be

gobbled up, too. An' even if we aint, we four fellers can't rob Mr.

Henry's store, an' take the Sweepstakes besides."

"Now, Atkins, who asked you fur any advice?" demanded the governor,

angrily. "The expedition aint dead yet, even if two of us have fallen

into the hands of the enemy. As soon as we get rested we'll go up to the

house, an' if we can find out where the cap'n an' Xury are, we'll help

'em."

"I've run risks enough," returned the discontented member. "I just aint

a goin' up to the house."

"What's that you say?" exclaimed the chief, astonished and enraged to

hear his authority thus set at defiance.

"I say I sha'n't go up to the house," repeated Atkins, decidedly; "an' I

mean it."

"Why, you wouldn't have us to leave them two fellers without once tryin'

to help 'em, would you?"

"I don't care what you do. You can do as you please, an' so will I."

"Now, Atkins, have you forgot them lessons I have given you? If you

don't look out I'll have to larn you a few more. You're gettin' to be

mighty sassy, lately."

"You can't scare me none, governor, fur I aint alone like I used to be.

I've got at least one good friend in the band. Jack, you'll stand by

me."

"I will," replied Jack Spaniard, who arose from the rock where he had

been sitting, and walked over to the side of the mutineer. "You see,

governor," he added, "me an' Atkins have got tired of doin' all the

work. You never let us have things our way at all, an' we aint a goin'

to stand it no longer. If you want to help the cap'n an' Xury you can do

it yourself."

The governor listened to this speech in silence. He had been expecting a

demonstration of this kind from Atkins, but he was not prepared for so

decided an opposition to his authority. Atkins had long shown a

disposition to make trouble in the band, and during the last three days

he had been more disorderly than ever. The governor had often heard him

grumbling to himself, and he had made up his mind to whip all the

rebellious spirit out of him at the first good opportunity. That

opportunity was now presented; but Sam did not think it safe to attempt

to carry out his resolve. Atkins was backed up by Jack Spaniard, and

with his aid, he was likely to prove more than a match for the

redoubtable bully. If Tom and his mate had been there to assist him, he

could have crushed the rebellion in short order.

"Of all the mean things that have happened in the band since I got to be

governor, this yere is the beat," said Sam, after a moment's pause.

"You two fellers promised, not more'n two weeks ago, to obey all orders,

an' to stand by your friends, if they got into trouble; an' now you are

goin' back on your word. There aint no honor about such fellers as you

be. Friday, whose side are you on?"

"On your'n, governor; I don't think we shall ever see our island now,

but I'll stick to you as long as any body does."

"All right!" exclaimed the chief, immensely relieved. "Jack Spaniard,

you're always been a good, law-abidin' man, an' if you'll come away from

that feller, I won't say nothin' to you; I'll let you off easy. An' you,

Atkins, you've been spilin' fur a good drubbin', an' the only way you

can escape it, is by sayin' that you'll tend to your duty, an' obey

orders like a man had oughter do. Let's hear from you."

"I won't do duty," replied Atkins, sullenly.

Jack Spaniard hesitated a moment before he answered. He knew that those

who had dared to oppose the governor, had thus far been brought to

grief, and he was almost inclined to take him at his word, and leave

Atkins to fight his own battles. But he had been highly incensed by the

new rules Tom had introduced into the society, and, believing that he

was as good as any body, he did not like to be obliged to act the part

of a servant. More than that, the events of the night had dampened his

ardor. He began to see that there were a multitude of risks to be run,

and a good many obstacles to be overcome, before they could begin their

intended cruise, and he thought it policy to abandon the enterprise

before he found himself in serious trouble.

"Me an' Atkins will stick together," said he.

"Very good," replied the chief; "an' you an' Atkins may make up your

minds to sup sorrow with the same spoon. I am governor of this band, an'

I'll come out at the top of the heap yet; now you mark what I say. What

are you goin' to do?"

"We're goin' into the cove after our share of the outfit," replied Will

Atkins. "When we get it, we're goin back to the village. Come on, Jack;

we've wasted time enough in talkin'."

The two mutineers began to descend the cliff, keeping their eyes

fastened on the governor, and holding themselves in readiness to resist

any attack; but, to Friday's surprise, Sam made no attempt to detain

them.

No Moss; Or, The Career of a Rolling Stone · 第 5 / 21 章