A BOY’S REVENGE.
"Can you see them?"
"Sure thing."
"Are they practising?"
"Yes."
"Frank Merriwell there?"
"Yes; he is coaching."
Jabez Lynch was standing beneath the tree which Uric Scudder had
climbed, and he was the one who asked the questions. Uric had managed to
draw himself up to a somewhat perilous position near the end of a
bending branch, where he clung as he gazed away beyond the narrow fringe
of woods.
In a clearing beyond that fringe of woods the Fardale team was hard at
work in secret practise. Having no fenced field, from which unwelcome
spectators could be excluded, it became necessary for the eleven to
retire to this spot when it was decided to get in practise, for Frank
Merriwell did not care to have witnesses outside the regular players and
a few chosen and trusted substitutes.
Although Fardale had defeated Rivermouth, the most loyal and
enthusiastic cadet was obliged to confess that the result was brought
about principally through the splendid and amazing work of Dick
Merriwell. Rivermouth had seemed far too strong for Fardale, and honest
ones acknowledged that the cadets would not have scored once had
Merriwell been out of the game.
This filled Dick’s enemies with bitterness and envy, but they dared say
very little openly against the remarkable boy from the West. But both
friends and foes united in saying it was unfortunate when a team showed
up so weak that it could be seriously, perhaps fatally, crippled by the
loss of a single man.
While he was proud of his brother, Frank Merriwell quickly decided that
there must be less individual playing and more team-work. Fardale must
be put in such condition that the loss of a star player would not surely
defeat her.
Up to this time Frank had been content to drill Fardale in the simple
lines of the game; but the team had made such progress in learning these
things that he now determined to resort to more difficult plays.
Aware that Dick’s success had aroused a spirit of jealousy at home, and
knowing there might be traitors in camp, Frank decided on some secret
practise. Never before had Fardale started off so brilliantly in
football, and Merry was determined that the school should make a great
record that season, if possible.
So the eleven and the choice substitutes were taken out for practise in
this field, a long distance from the academy, where it was believed
there existed little danger from spies or traitors.
The players had gone off quietly, in order to avoid attention; but Uric
Scudder was on the watch, and his suspicious soul awakened. Before long
he had communicated his suspicions to Jabez Lynch, who found an
opportunity to slip away with Scudder and strike across lots in the
direction it was supposed the football team had gone.
Just what he hoped to accomplish, the chief rascal did not himself know,
but he wished to be fully informed concerning the plans and progress of
the eleven.
"Can you tell me what they are doing?" asked Lynch, with some eagerness.
"Can you make out their plays from there?"
"Yes, I can see them plainly," answered the fellow in the tree. "I take
it that Merriwell is drilling them in some new formation."
"I must see that!" exclaimed Jabez, starting to pull off his coat. "I’m
coming up."
"This limb won’t hold us both," said Uric.
"Then you had better come down. If Merriwell is putting the team up to
some new stunts, I’m going to find out what’s doing."
At this moment, however, came a sound that caused Jabez to pause. Not
far away somebody whistled sharply in the woods.
"What’s that?" exclaimed Scudder, startled. "Somebody’s coming."
"Keep still!" advised Lynch, in a guarded tone, although he looked
somewhat alarmed and quickly drew on his coat.
The whistle sounded nearer, and then a dog barked. Jabez Lynch stopped
for nothing, but scudded softly away, disappearing into the bushes.
"Hold on!" cried Uric, in alarm at thus being deserted. "Wait for me!
Don’t run off like that! Hold on!"
His cries seemed to bring some one hurrying toward the spot, and he
began descending the tree in great haste, making not a little noise in
doing so.
Then a huge dog came bounding into view, setting up a savage barking. At
that moment Scudder lost his hold, clutched wildly at a branch, turned,
and fell crashing through the limbs toward the ground, a yell of terror
escaping his lips.
It seemed that Scudder was in danger of landing on the ground with
sufficient violence to break his bones, and the fear that clutched his
heart when he felt himself falling was something he did not soon forget.
Fortunately for him, the sharp prong of a strong limb pierced his
trousers, and his downward flight was arrested with such suddenness that
he nearly lost his breath. There he hung, not more than twelve feet from
the ground, perfectly helpless.
His first feeling was one of intense relief and thankfulness. His hands
and face smarted from the stinging blows of the smaller branches,
received as he crashed through the tree, but he minded that not at all,
for had he not been saved from more serious injury by the abrupt
checking of his flight?
Then, directly beneath him, the dog began to leap and bark, showing a
shining lot of very savage-looking teeth.
Of a sudden Uric began to fear his trousers would not prove strong
enough to sustain him, and that he would fall into the waiting jaws of
the animal below. He tried to squirm about and get hold of the limb, but
found this was a difficult or impossible thing to do. He heard a boyish
voice crying:
"Tige—here, Tige!"
The dog barked still more fiercely, if possible.
"Hey, you Tige!" called the voice. "What are you doing there?"
"Help!" cried Uric. "Come quick and call your old dog off! Help! Help!"
"Hello!" shouted the boy, as he crashed nearer. "Tige’s got something
treed."
Then into view came a ragged, freckled, snub-nosed chap of fourteen,
carrying an old-fashioned muzzle-loading shotgun. The youngster stopped
and stared at Uric in amazement, holding the gun as if ready to shoot.
"Jiminy!" he ejaculated.
"What ails you?" snapped Uric angrily. "Take your dog away, will you?"
"Oh, golly!" cried the boy. "What you doin’ up there—hung yourself out
to dry?"
"You saucy monkey!" shouted Scudder. "Don’t you dare talk to me that
way! Oh, my trousers are tearing—oh! oh!"
"Oh! oh!" whooped the boy, in delight and derision. "You’ll be off in a
minute!"
"Please take that dog away!" begged Scudder. "He’ll pounce on me the
minute I drop! He’ll bite me!"
"If he does," said the youngster with the gun. "It’ll p’isen him, and
then you’ll have to pay damages."
"You young wretch! Don’t you see I’m in danger? Why don’t you do
something to help me? Do you want to see me killed? Do you want to see
me chewed up by that beast?"
"Perhaps I do," carelessly answered the boy, without a sign of sympathy.
"Why, you heartless young brute! You ought to be——"
"Now, don’t you go to callin’ too many names!" exclaimed the lad. "If
you do, you’ll wish you hadn’t. I’ve seen you before, an’ I ain’t forgot
about it, either. I made up my mind I’d remember you, and I have. I
guess you know what happened the last time we saw each other?"
"I don’t remember anything about it. Can’t you climb up here and help me
somehow? I’ll pay you for it. I’ll——"
"Oh, yes!" cried the boy, in great sarcasm. "I know you—I know how
you’ll pay me! The same way you paid me for the apples I brought you out
of our orchard two weeks ago. I ain’t forgot that; have you? You said
you’d give me five cents to bring you a hatful of apples, and I brought
them. Then you kicked me, and when I follered you and asked for my five
cents you throwed my hat in the brook and pushed me in after it. Oh, I’m
the same feller you done them things to, and I kinder think it’s my turn
to do a few things to you, mister."
Uric remembered all these things with some alarm, and he quickly said:
"Oh, I was just fooling with you, kid. Can’t you stand a joke?"
"Sure thing," chuckled the boy. "I’m the greatest feller to stand a joke
you ever saw. And this is the kind of a joke I like to stand."
Scudder was furious.
"If I can get my hands on you again," he thought, "I’ll break your
back!"
Aloud he said:
"Can’t you get a ladder somewhere and help me down? I’ll give you ten
cents if you do."
"Will ye, honest?" exclaimed the boy, with pretended eagerness.
"Honest."
"All of ten cents?"
"Yes."
"To keep you from droppin’ and breakin’ your neck?"
"Yes, to keep me from——"
"It ain’t worth it," grinned the boy; "but I guess I’ll do it. Just you
hang on there till I come back. Old Eb Jones lives over here on the road
a piece, and there’s a ladder right by his barn. I’ll be back in a
hurry, an’ I’ll leave Tige right here to watch you. Hey, Tige, keep your
eye on him, boy."
"Bow-wow!" barked Tige, glaring at Uric in a vicious way, as if longing
to rend him with his keen teeth.
"Oh, take your dog away!" cried the unfortunate boy in the tree. "Don’t
leave him here!"
"Oh, he’s all right!" declared the boy. "He can’t reach you."
"But what if my trousers give? Take him away, I say! Please don’t leave
him here!"
But the boy ran off, laughing, having left his old gun leaning against a
crotched sapling.
"The young brat!" snarled Uric. "Wait till I get down! I won’t do a
thing to him—not a thing! Oh, I’ll make him sick! If I can get my hands
on his old gun I’ll shoot his dog, too!"
Then the dog growled fiercely, as if understanding Uric’s words.
"You mongrel!" grated Scudder. "If I can——"
He twisted about in another attempt to get hold of the limb, but again
his efforts caused his trousers to give a little, with an ominous sound,
and he quickly desisted from the trial.
"The boy’ll bring a ladder pretty quick," he said. "I can’t stand it
hanging here much longer! My head is beginning to feel dreadfully bad."
The dog sat down beneath the tree, licking its jaws and turning its eyes
upward toward the dangling figure.
It was a long and tedious wait for the return of the boy, but at last
Uric heard him coming through the bushes.
"Hurry up!" cried Scudder.
"Be there in a minute," was the answer.
"Did you bring the ladder?"
"No; but I brought something else."
The lad came into view, carrying his old hat in both hands, and the hat
was full of eggs.
Scudder’s head seemed to swim. Through a haze he saw that hatful of
eggs, and he was dazed and bewildered.
"What have you got?" he gasped.
"Fruit!" chuckled the boy. "Found ’em over at Jones’ barn. I gave you a
hatful of fruit once before and didn’t get anything for it, and now I’m
going to give you another hatful. Oh, golly! Tige, ain’t we goin’ to
have some fun!"
A feeling of despair seized upon Uric Scudder.
"Don’t you dare!" he gasped.
The boy carefully placed the hat on the ground.
"The most of this fruit is dead ripe," he grinned. "It’s been layin’ in
an old nest under the barn till it ripened off fust-rate. Now this, for
instance"—selecting one of the eggs—"is the real thing. Jest open your
mouth and let me see how nigh I can come to it."
"If you throw that at me——" began Uric.
Whiz!—Spat!
The aim of the kid was excellent, and the egg struck the dangling boy on
his breast, spattering in a slimy, yellow mass over the cadet’s shirt.
Oh, the smell that assailed Uric’s nostrils! It made him sick and faint!
"Stop it!" he hoarsely yelled.
The boy selected another egg.
"This one," he said, "is a better specimen than t’other. Bet I can hit
you right in the left eye with it."
Whiz!—Spat!
Uric managed to move his head, so that the egg struck him where he wore
his hat on ordinary occasions, filling his hair.
"He, he!" laughed the boy.
"Bow-wow!" barked Tige, prancing about beneath the tree.
"Ain’t it fun!" whooped the urchin. "Oh, dear me! I don’t believe I ever
had so much fun!"
"I’ll kill you!" screamed Uric, kicking wildly, regardless of the danger
of falling.
"Oh, I’m just foolin’ with you," said the freckled youngster. "Can’t you
stand a joke?"
"If you throw another——"
Whiz!—Spat!
The third egg struck Uric on the forehead and spattered into his eyes.
The dangling target yelled again, but his cries were choked, for the
fourth egg hit him fairly in the mouth.
"He! he! he!" shrieked the boy. "This is more’n five cents’ worth of
fun! Kicked me for a joke, didn’t ye? Pushed me into the brook for a
joke, hey? Well, take that! and that! and that!"
The eggs flew thick and fast now, and hardly one missed the unfortunate
wretch in the tree. The dog barked and the boy laughed, while Uric could
scarcely groan.
Of a sudden, the dog pricked up its ears, faced off toward the north,
and barked.
"Somebody comin’, Tige?" said the boy quickly. "Well, we’re pretty near
done with this job. Here go the last two eggs. Can’t miss with them."
Spat! spat!—both eggs landed.
"Good-by," said the boy, catching up his gun. "Next time you kick a
feller take somebody of your size. Hope you’ve had lots of fun. I have."
With these words he hurried away into the woods, the dog following,
leaving the wretched boy in the tree to get down as best he could.