WOLF’S FORTRESS.
Under the influence of the better thoughts which my good mother had
suggested to me, I was willing to do better deeds. I was ready to
apologize; I had done so, but I could not go down upon my knees before
such a fellow as Waddie Wimpleton, or any fellow, for that matter. It
was hard enough for me to say I was sorry; and I had done so for my
mother’s sake, rather than my own.
“I don’t think you are very sorry for what you said,” sneered Waddie.
“I am sorry enough to apologize. I really regret that I made use of any
hard expressions,” I replied.
“Then get down on your knees, and beg my pardon, as I tell you,”
persisted Waddie, flourishing his stick. “If you do, I’ll let you off
on part of the punishment.”
“I apologized because I had done wrong, and not because I was afraid of
the punishment,” I added, still schooling my tongue to gentle speech.
“Humph!” exclaimed the scion; and my remark was based on a philosophy
so subtle that he could not comprehend it.
“Go in! Go in! Give it to him!” shouted the supporting ruffians. “He’s
fooling you, Waddie.”
“If you are not going to do what I tell you, look out for the
consequences,” blustered the young gentleman, who still seemed to have
some doubts in regard to the prudence of his present conduct.
“Waddie Wimpleton,” said I.
“Well, what do you want now?” demanded he, dropping his weapon again.
“If you strike me with that stick, you must look out for consequences.
I shall defend myself as well as I know how.”
Waddie glanced at his companions.
“Hit him! What are you waiting for?” cried his friends; and I have
always observed, in such cases, that it is easier to give advice than
to strike the blow.
Mr. Waddie had placed himself in a position which he could not well
evacuate. He evidently had no heart for the encounter which he foresaw
must take place if he struck me, and perhaps he had not entire
confidence in the character of the support which he was to receive. At
any rate he could not help realizing that the first blows of the battle
were likely to be dealt upon his own head.
“You called me a liar,” said he, working up his courage again by a new
recital of his wrongs.
“I did, and apologized for it,” I replied.
“Go down on your knees, then, and say you are sorry.”
“I will not.”
“Then mind your eye,” continued Waddie, as with a sudden spring he hit
me on the arm, which I had raised to ward off the blow.
I did mind my eye, and I minded his, too; for, before he could bring
up his supports, I leaped upon him. Though he was of my own size and
age, he was only a baby in my hands. I grasped his stick, wrenched and
twisted it a few times, and then threw him over backwards into a pool
of soft mud, which I had chosen to flank my position and save me from
an attack in the rear. He was half buried in the soft compound of black
mud and decayed leaves which filled the hole, and his good clothes
suffered severely from the effects of his disaster.
The moment the conflict commenced the supports moved up; but, before
they could come into action, I had overthrown my assailant, and stood
against the tree with the club in my hand. When Waddie went over
backwards, a new duty seemed to be suggested to his backers; and,
instead of turning on me, they proceeded to help their principal out of
his uncomfortable position. Encouraged and thoroughly waked up by my
victory, I think I could have thrashed the whole party; but I had not
wholly escaped the influence of my mother’s teachings, and was disposed
to act strictly in self-defence.
The quagmire into which Waddie had fallen was near the bank of the
brook which meandered through the grove, and which had been bridged in
several places, as well to add to the convenience of passers-by, as
to increase the picturesque beauty of the place. I deemed it best to
retreat to one of these bridges, which was not more than three feet
wide, and which would enable me to defend myself from an assault to the
best advantage.
“Humph! you cowards!” snarled Waddie, as his companions lifted him
out of the slough, and he spit out the mud and water which filled his
mouth. “Why didn’t you stand by me, as you promised?”
“We expected you to make a better fight than that,” replied one of
them; and it was doubtful to me whether they could assign any good
reason why they had not stood by him.
“I did the best I could, and you did not come near me. I’m in a pretty
pickle,” sputtered Waddie, as he glanced at his soiled garments.
“We’ll give it to him yet,” said one of the party, as he glanced at me
securely posted on the bridge.
“Where is he?” asked Waddie.
I was pointed out to him, and the sight of me inflamed all his zeal
again.
“Come on, fellows; and stand by me this time, I wish I had my revolver
here.”
I was very glad he had not that formidable weapon about him, though
I don’t think he could have hit me if he had fired at me; but he
sometimes struck the mark by accident. Waddie took a club from the hand
of one of his supporters, and rushed towards the bridge. Though he was
not a master of strategy, he could not help seeing that I was well
posted, and he halted suddenly before he reached the brook.
“We must drive him from the bridge, where we can have fair play,” said
Waddie.
I did not just then see how this was to be done; but I was soon able to
perceive his plan. The scion led his forces to a position on the brook
above me, and, taking some stones from the shallow stream, began to
pelt me with a vigor which soon rendered my place untenable. Several of
the missiles hit me, though I was not much hurt by them. Under these
circumstances, I was helpless for defensive purposes, for I had nothing
with which to return the fire. It was useless for me to stand there,
and be peppered with stones. I concluded to retreat in good order, and
brought myself off without any material damage.
[Illustration: WOLF’S FORTRESS.--Page 133.]
The only safe line by which I could retire was in the direction of the
mansion of Colonel Wimpleton. I crossed the brook farther down, and
came to a rustic summer house, on the bank of the stream. It was
built on a high foundation, to afford a prospect of the lake, and the
only admission was through the door, which was reached by a long flight
of steps. I immediately took possession of this structure, assured that
I could defend the door, while its walls would protect me from the
missiles of my assailants.
Waddie led his forces up to my fortress, and surveyed the situation.
They attempted to drive me out with stones; but they fell harmless upon
the building. The besiegers consulted together, and decided to make an
assault on the works. I was entirely willing they should do so, for I
could knock them over with the club as fast as they came up, having
all the advantage of position. Ben Pinkerton volunteered to lead the
forlorn hope, and advanced with considerable boldness to the attack. I
gave him a gentle rap on the head as he appeared at the door, and he
fell back, unable to reach me with his stick, as I stood so much higher
than he.
“Better keep back,” I remonstrated with him. “If there are any broken
heads, they will be yours.”
Dick Bayard then attempted to climb up the railing of the stairs, so
as to be on a level with me; but I knocked his fingers with my stick,
and he desisted. It was plain to them, after this trial, that a direct
assault was not practicable, and they retired to the ground below.
Another consultation followed in the ranks of the enemy; and by this
time Waddie’s friends were quite as much interested in the affair as he
was himself.
“I wish I had my revolver,” said the scion. “Hold on! I will go to the
house and get it; you stay here, and don’t let him come down.”
“Oh, no! We don’t want any pistol,” protested Ben Pinkerton. “You
mustn’t shoot him!”
“Why not? I would shoot him as quick as I would a cat. I wouldn’t kill
him, of course; but I would make him come down, and give us fair play
on the ground,” added Waddie.
Fair play! Seven of them, armed with clubs, against one! That was
Waddie’s idea of fair play.
“No; we don’t want any pistols,” persisted Ben. “Some one might get
hurt, and then we should be in a bad scrape.”
“What are you going to do?” demanded the young gentleman. “Are you
going to let him stay up there and crow over us? I’m wet through, and I
don’t want to stay here all day. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll set
the summer house on fire. That will bring him down.”
This was a brilliant idea of Waddie, and I was afraid he would put it
into operation, for he was reckless enough to do anything.
“That won’t do,” replied the prudent Pinkerton. “We don’t want to get
into any scrape.”
“No; don’t set it on fire,” added Dick Bayard; and so said all of them
but Waddie; for probably they foresaw that they would have to bear all
the blame of the deed.
“I don’t want to stay here all day,” fretted Waddie.
“Put it through by daylight!” I ventured to suggest, as I sat on the
upper step, listening to the interview.
“He is laughing at us,” said the scion, angrily.
“Let him laugh; he is safe,” replied Ben. “I’ll tell you what we can
do.”
“Well, what?” asked Waddie, as he cast a discontented glance at me.
“Let us camp out here to-night,” continued Ben.
“Camp out!” repeated several of the party, not fully comprehending the
idea of the fertile Pinkerton’s brilliant mind.
“Starve him out, I mean,” explained Ben. “We will stay here and keep
him a close prisoner till he is willing to come down and take his
licking like a man.”
Stupid as this plan seemed to me, it was promptly adopted. But the
enemy retired out of hearing to complete the arrangement, though they
were near enough to fall upon me if I attempted to escape. I did not
consider myself a match for the whole of them on the ground, and I had
expected to be terribly mauled, as I should have been if my wits had
not served me well.
Presently I saw Waddie leave the party, and walk towards his father’s
house. I concluded that he had gone to change his clothes, for his
plight was as disagreeable as it could be. His companions took position
near the foot of the steps, with the clubs in their hands, ready
to receive me if I attempted to evacuate my fortress. I was quite
comfortable, and rather curious to know what they intended to do.
I waited an hour for the return of Waddie, during which time I studied
the structure in which I was a prisoner, and its surroundings, in order
to prepare myself for action when it should be necessary. It was plain
to me that the scion was taking more time than was needed to change his
clothes. I thought something had happened at the house; and in this
impression I was soon confirmed by the appearance of Colonel Wimpleton,
attended by two men.