CRIME.
An icicle is hanging over the window by which I write. A day or two
ago, it was hardly perceptible, but it has gone on, increasing in
size, until now it is as large round as my arm, and full as long. It
is nothing, however, but an innumerable collection of little drops of
water, frozen together. One by one they chased each other down the
roof above, but on coming to the cold icicle, they became chilled, and
were congealed into a part of itself, some of them running down to its
slender tip, and others fastening themselves upon its sides, or its
inverted base.
It is thus that evil habits are formed—drop by drop, and atom by atom.
One wrong act prepares the way for another. One bad habit invites and
attracts others. Thus the little one soon becomes a troop, and the
feeble enemy swells into a formidable giant.
Oscar and Jerry were fast descending the downward path of evil. Having
nothing else to employ themselves about, mischief-making became the
main business of their lives. They were away from home a large portion
of the time; and as Mr. Preston was glad to have them go off, for the
sake of quiet and peace at home, he seldom troubled himself to inquire
where they went, or what they did. Complaints, however, sometimes
reached him of their misconduct, which he passed over in silence, or
angrily rebuked or punished, as he happened to feel.
One day, as Oscar and Jerry were making one of their excursions about
the town, they noticed some fine-looking pears, growing on a small
dwarf tree in a garden. No person was in sight, and the blinds of that
portion of the house from which they could be seen were all closed.
There seemed to be nothing to prevent their helping themselves, and
after deliberating a moment, and turning their eyes in every direction,
with an assumed air of carelessness, they noiselessly entered the gate,
and commenced stripping the tree of its rich burden. The tree was not
much higher than Oscar’s head, and there were but half a dozen pears
upon it, all of which were quickly transferred to the pockets of the
boys.
The act was not committed so secretly as the young thieves imagined.
Mr. Upham, to whom the fruit belonged, was at work threshing, in the
barn, and from a back window observed Oscar and Jerry as they came
along the road. Knowing the mischievous propensities of the boys, he
kept an eye upon them, until he saw them reach forth to pluck the
fruit, when he seized a whip, and ran towards them. The last pear was
in their pockets before they saw him approaching, and all they had to
do, therefore, was to run with all speed, which they lost no time in
doing. Mr. Upham pursued them, several rods, but finding that their
young legs were more nimble and light-footed than his, he soon gave up
the unequal chase.
Towards noon, when Mr. Upham supposed the boys would be at home to
dinner, he tackled his horse and rode over to Mr. Preston’s. As he saw
Jerry’s father in the barn, he advanced towards him, calling out in his
rough way:—
“Hulloo, Preston, where are those boys of yours, Oscar and Jerry?”
“They are somewhere about here,—I heard them a minute ago,” replied Mr.
Preston; “why, what do you want of them?”
“I’ve come over here on purpose to give the young whelps a good
trimming, or to get you to do it,” said Mr. Upham, making a very
significant gesture with his whip, which he had brought with him from
the wagon. He then told Mr. Preston the story of the robbery, adding
that the fruit was a new and choice species, which he had cultivated
with much care, and this was the first crop. He said he would rather
have given five dollars than lost it, as he wished to ascertain what
the fruit was. “Now,” he added, “I am determined that these rogues
shall not go unpunished. If you’ll give them their deserts, well and
good; or if you will delegate me to do it, it’s all the same; but if
you won’t do either, I’ll lodge a complaint against them with Squire
Walcott, before sun-down. I’ve had fruit stolen before, but never could
catch the rascals; and I shan’t let this chance go of giving them
justice, now that I am sure who they are.”
“I don’t blame you in the least,” said Mr. Preston; “if there’s
anything that I’ll punish my children for, it’s for stealing. Jerry
shall be whipped for this; but I don’t know about whipping Oscar. He is
not a child of mine, but is only here on a visit, and I don’t exactly
feel as though I had authority to correct him.”
“Will you give me leave to do it, then?” said Mr. Upham.
“I can’t give you an authority I don’t myself possess,” replied
Mr. Preston. “No doubt he is the greatest rogue in this matter,
and deserves a good trouncing. You can punish him on your own
responsibility, if you choose, and I will not object; only let it be
reasonable.”
“That’s enough,” said Mr. Upham; “now let us find the rogues.”
“I think I heard them up in the hay-loft last,” remarked Mr. Preston,
and they accordingly directed their steps thither.
The boys, on coming home from their marauding excursion, had gone up
into the hay-loft, and were in the act of eating their plunder, when
they were startled by Mr. Upham’s well-known voice. Their first impulse
was to effect a hasty retreat; but this proved to be a difficult thing
to do. They could not go down below without being seen. There were two
windows, but they were too far from the ground to afford escape. There
was no place where they could conceal themselves, and they finally
concluded to keep still, and hear the result of the interview.
“Here they are,” said Mr. Preston, as he reached the top stair.
“So they are,” echoed Mr. Upham,—his eye lighting up with something
like joy. “You see, boys,” he added, “it didn’t do you much good to
run, did it?”
“I suppose you heard what we were talking about, below, Oscar?” said
Mr. Preston.
A sullen, almost inaudible “Yes,” was the response.
“Then you know our business,” added Mr. Preston; “and, as it is
dinner-time, we won’t waste any more words about it. Mr. Upham, there’s
your boy,” he continued, pointing to Oscar.
Oscar, though generally bold and daring, and little disposed to show
respect or fear for his superiors, seemed completely cowed down in the
presence of Mr. Upham. Whether it was the latter’s Herculean limbs, and
rough, blunt manners, or the threat of prosecution, that produced this
result, certain it is, that all thought of resistance had vanished.
He took off his jacket, at the command of Mr. Upham, and submitted
with almost lamb-like meekness to the heavy shower of blows that fell
upon his back. The same operation was then performed upon Jerry, by
his father, after which the boys, with red, swollen eyes, and backs
well-scored and sore, and hearts rankling with suppressed rage, betook
themselves to the house.
Such a punishment, inflicted in a spirit of revenge, and in the heat
of passion, and without any attempt to appeal to the reason and
consciences of the offenders, or to awaken contrition in their hearts,
could have but one effect, and that a most injurious one, upon Oscar
and Jerry. It hardened them in their sin, and awakened a feeling of
bitter hatred towards the man who had been the instigator of their
punishment. Instead of repenting of the evil they had done they were
already plotting still worse things against him. They appeased the
smartings of the rod with the thought that, some day or other, they
would have their revenge.
Week after week passed away, and Jerry and his cousin continued to
follow their accustomed manner of life. For a day or two after the
events just related, some distance and coolness were perceptible
between them and Mr. Preston; but nothing more was said about the
affair, and it was soon apparently forgotten.
One pleasant afternoon in October, a man on horseback rode in great
haste to Mr. Davenport’s, and informed him that the woods were on fire,
just beyond the hills, in the north or upper part of the town, and
requested him to go over and assist in putting it out. The messenger
carried the same news to most of the other houses in the village; and,
in the course of an hour, quite a number of men and boys had assembled
at the scene of the conflagration. Some thirty or forty cords of wood,
which had been cut and seasoned, ready for use, were found to be well
on fire. The mass of coals and flame sent out a fierce heat, so that
no one could approach very near. The fire had communicated to many of
the standing trees, and was roaring and crackling with great fury,
leaping from branch to branch, and from tree to tree, everything being
almost as dry as tinder. It had evidently been burning a considerable
time; but the hills, which separated the wood-lot from the principal
part of the village, had prevented the smoke being seen. The people
who had collected could do little or nothing to stay the progress of
the flames, now that they were under such headway, and it was not
until several acres were burnt over, that the fire began to go down.
It finally went out, only because there were no more trees to burn, it
having reached a space which had previously been cleared by the axe.
[Illustration: The fire in the woods]
The wood-lot and corded wood destroyed by this fire belonged to Mr.
Upham, and his loss was about a hundred dollars. It was the common
opinion among the town’s people that the fire must have originated in
the carelessness of some boys or men who happened to pass through the
wood-lot. Mr. Upham, however, had formed a different opinion from this,
but he said nothing about it that afternoon. The next day he started
off early after breakfast, with the determination of finding some clue
to the mystery, if it were a possible thing. In the course of the day
he visited many of the people in the village, and gathered several
items of information, which he thought might have a bearing on the
mystery he was striving to solve. Among others thus visited, were Mr.
Davenport and his son, and the latter put Mr. Upham in possession of a
certain fact which greatly confirmed his suspicions.
The result of these investigations was, that Mr. Merriam, the
constable, called at Mr. Preston’s house early the following morning,
with a warrant, empowering him to “seize the bodies” of Oscar and
Jerry, and bring them before Squire Walcott, to answer to the charge of
setting fire to Mr. Upham’s wood. The family were just finishing their
breakfast, when Mr. Merriam entered. Taking Mr. Preston alone into the
entry, he showed him the warrant, telling him there were suspicions
that Oscar and Jerry knew something about the fire, and it was thought
advisable to have the matter examined. “I hope it won’t amount to
anything,” he continued, “but if there are suspicions about, they ought
to be cleared up. It is unpleasant business, and I thought I would
manage it as quietly as possible. Perhaps you had better say nothing to
the family, now; but tell your boys you want them to go with me, of an
errand, and you can jump in too, and ride down with us. Wouldn’t that
be the best way to manage it?”
Mr. Preston seemed much affected by the intelligence which was thus
kindly broken to him. The mere fact that his son and nephew were
_suspected_ of a crime which might send them to a prison, went like an
arrow to his heart. The warrant, it should be observed, charged the
boys named with setting fire to the wood wilfully and maliciously, and
with intent to destroy the same. After a moment’s silence, he obtained
sufficient command over his feelings to say:—
“I don’t know, Mr. Merriam, what facts have come to light, but I have
no reason to suppose that my boys had anything more to do with the
fire than you or I. And if they did have a hand in it, it isn’t at
all likely that it was anything more serious than an accident. But
as you say, we had better keep quiet about it, until the subject is
investigated. I will call the boys, and we will go down to the Squire’s
immediately.”
The little party got into the carriage, and drove towards Squire
Walcott’s. Oscar and Jerry, who had suspected the nature of Mr.
Merriam’s errand from the first, had now no doubt that their suspicions
were correct. The silence of Mr. Merriam, and the sad and anxious
expression on the face of Mr. Preston, told them that something unusual
was about to transpire. They asked no questions, however, but all rode
on in silence. On reaching the Squire’s, the boys were conducted into
the sitting-room, where they seated themselves with the constable.
Mr. Preston went into the “front room,” or parlor, where there were
several other men. The time appointed for the examination not having
quite arrived, and several of the witnesses summoned being yet absent,
Oscar and Jerry remained in the sitting-room nearly an hour, before any
one spoke to them. It was a long and dreary hour. Their tongues were
silent, but their thoughts were busy, and their eyes glanced anxiously
at every footstep.