AN EXCITING SCENE.
Hogan had not given it up as a bad job. Andy’s unexpected resistance
only made him the more determined to effect his object. Besides the
natural desire to obtain so large a booty, he thirsted for revenge upon
Andy.
“The boy’s plucky!” he muttered, as he descended from the roof; “but
I’ll be even with him yet.”
He had to descend cautiously, for the shingles were slippery, but he
finally reached the lowest point and jumped down.
“If I could only find an ax or a hatchet,” he said to himself, “I would
make short work of the window. I don’t believe the boy will dare to
shoot.”
He searched for the articles he had named, but in vain.
“What can I take?” he thought, perplexed.
His eyes fell upon a thick club, not unlike a baseball bat, and this
seemed to him suitable for his purpose. He took it and commenced
reascending to the roof again. There was a fence, which helped him as a
stepping-stone, otherwise he would have found it difficult to get a
footing upon it. Meanwhile Andy had not been idle.
First of all, he saw that it was unsafe to have the money any longer in
his custody. His assailant might be successful in the new attempt he
would probably make, and he must not find the bank bills.
Andy did not like to frighten the ladies, but he thought it necessary,
under the circumstances. He went to the door of the parlor chamber,
which the two sisters occupied, and rapped loudly on the door.
The knock was heard, and it excited dismay. The timid ladies thought it
might be the burglar of whom they were so much in fear.
“Who’s there?” asked Miss Susan, in trembling accents, through the
keyhole.
“It’s me--Andy. Please open the door--quick!”
“What has happened?” demanded Miss Susan, in agitation.
“I want to hand you the trunk,” answered Andy.
“What for? Is there any burglar in the house?”
“No; but there’s one trying to get into my room.”
“Oh, heavens! what shall we do?” ejaculated both ladies, in chorus.
“Take the tin trunk, and I’ll manage him,” said Andy.
The door was opened a crack and the trunk taken into the trembling hands
of the agitated spinster.
“Where is the burglar?” answered Susan.
“Gone to find something to break through the window.”
“Oh, dear, he will murder us all!”
“No, he won’t,” said Andy. “I won’t let him!”
“You’d better hide,” said Susan. “Is he a big man?”
“Pretty large. He looks as if he was just out of jail.”
“He mustn’t hurt you. I’d rather he had the money. Take it and give it
to him and ask him to go.”
“Not much!” answered Andy, stoutly. “But I must go. He’ll soon be at the
window again. Is there any hot water in the house?”
“Yes; we keep a fire all night in the kitchen, and the teakettle is
full.”
“All right!” said Andy, and he dashed downstairs.
“What’s he going to do?” ejaculated Susan, in surprise.
“Heaven only knows! How can he talk of hot water when there’s a burglar
in the house? Lock the door, Sister Susan.”
“I don’t like to shut out poor Andy,” said Susan, in a distressed voice.
“It’s my belief we shall find him a mangled corpse to-morrow morning,
when we go downstairs.”
“I shan’t dare to go down at all. Oh, Susan, this is awful!”
Leaving the agitated spinsters in their trouble and terror, we must look
after Andy.
He ran downstairs, seized the teakettle from the stove, grabbed a tin
dipper, and then ran up to his chamber again.
He was just in time.
There, before the window, stood Mike Hogan, with the club in his hand
and a look of triumph on his face. In the dim light, he did not see the
teakettle.
“Well, my little bantam,” said he, “here I am again!”
“So I see,” said Andy, coolly.
“Once more, and for the last time, I ask you to open that window.”
“I would rather not.”
“You will, if you know what is best for yourself. Do you see this club?”
“Yes, I do.”
“Do you know what it is for?”
“Suppose you tell me.”
“It is to break open the window.”
“That is what I thought.”
“Comfound the boy! He’s a cool customer,” thought Hogan. “Bah! he must
be a fool. Open that window, and I’ll give you ten dollars of the
money,” he said, preferring, if possible, to avoid all trouble.
Of course, when he was fairly in possession of the money, he could break
his promise and give Andy a beating, and he proposed to do both.
“A little while ago you offered me half the money,” said Andy.
“Things were different then. I didn’t have this club. What do you say?”
“That I am not a thief, and don’t mean to make a bargain with a thief!”
answered Andy, resolutely.
“Then you may take the consequences, you young rascal!” exploded the
burglar, garnishing his speech with an oath.
“In two minutes, I shall have you in my clutches!”
He swung back the club and brought it down with full force upon the
window frame. Of course, the panes were shivered and the frail wooden
sticks which constituted the frame were demolished. Another blow and the
window lay in ruins on the carpet of Andy’s chamber.
“He’s killing Andy!” ejaculated the terrified spinsters, as the loud
noise came to their ears. “What shall we do?”
They debated whether they should leave their chamber, and, seeking the
scene of the tragedy, fall down on their knees before the terrible
burglar and implore him to spare the life of their young defender. The
spirit was willing, but the flesh was weak, and in terrible agitation
they remained in their sanctuary.
“The crisis has come,” thought Andy, his nerves quivering with
excitement.
And, unobserved by the triumphant burglar, he poured out the scalding
hot water from the teakettle into the tin dipper.
Mike Hogan was in the act of scaling the window-sill, over the debris of
the broken glass and wood, when Andy dashed the contents of the tin
dipper into his face.
There was a fearful yell as the hot water deluged his face and neck, and
the scalded burglar, losing his hold on the sill, blinded and maddened
by pain, lost his footing and slipped down the sloping roof with
ever-increasing rapidity. He rolled over at the eaves, and fell upon his
back with a violence which lamed, though it did not disable him--a
thoroughly demoralized burglar.
There was a pump and a trough in the yard. Hogan jumped up and ran
hastily to it. He dipped his scalded face in the stream of water, and
gained temporary relief. But the pain was altogether too great to allow
him to think of anything else except that. To a man in his condition,
money had no charms. A relief from pain was all he could think of. Again
and again he dipped his face in the cool water, and his pain was
somewhat abated.
“Oh, the young villain!” he groaned. “I wish I had him here. I’d tear
him limb from limb.”
“Poor fellow!” thought Andy, pitying the poor wretch, though the
imminent danger had forced him to inflict suffering upon him. “I am
sorry for his pain, but I couldn’t defend myself in any other way. He
won’t try to get in again, I’m thinking.”
He locked the door of the room from the outside, and decided to spend
the rest of the night upon the sofa in the sitting-room. First, however,
he went to the room of the old ladies, to tell them that the danger was
past.