KITTY ASKS FORGIVENESS OF TIM.
IT appeared ages to Kitty before the horrifying noise in the parlour
ceased; but, in reality, in about three minutes after old Jacob Dottin
and Bob had left her, the piercing yells stopped, and silence followed
save for the angry voice of the master of the establishment, who was
scolding and threatening in a tone which made her tremble, so harsh was
it.
"I'll break every bone in your body if you move from that corner, you
Bimbo—ill-conditioned beast that you are! I'll give you something you
won't forget easily!" Kitty heard him say; and then he proceeded,
evidently addressing Bob: "Take that mongrel of yours away at once, do
you hear, at once!"
"All right," Bob answered; and the next moment he appeared in the shop,
bearing Snip, who had been badly injured, in his arms, and followed by
the old man, who cautiously shut the parlour door behind him.
"Oh, is he much hurt?" gasped Kitty, shocked at the sight of the blood,
which looked a great deal more than it really was, on Snip's white coat.
"He's scratched and bitten, I believe," Bob returned in a voice which
trembled slightly; he was looking pale and frightened, as his sister
noticed. "I wonder you keep such a savage brute about the place," he
remarked unwisely to Mr. Dottin. "He would have killed our dog if you
hadn't interfered and driven him off."
"Of course he would have, and he wouldn't have been to blame, either,"
was the retort, sharply spoken. "What business had you to bring your
dog here, I should like to know? Take him away immediately, or perhaps
he'll be up to some fresh mischief. He got what he deserved for
interfering with Bimbo. Come, clear out, you and your sister, too. I've
wasted too much time on you already."
"But, Mr. Dottin—" Bob was beginning, when, much to his amazement and
indignation, he was seized roughly by the collar, dragged to the door,
and sent spinning into the street.
Seeing her brother thus forcibly ejected, Kitty did not linger to be
similarly treated, but hurriedly followed him, whereupon Mr. Dottin
shook his fist at his late visitors, and shut the door upon them.
"Come along, Kitty," said Bob, who was choking with rage. "Let us get
out of this. That's a horrible old man; I'm sorry we went to see him."
And he started homewards at a great rate, still carrying Snip.
"Don't go quite so fast," pleaded Kitty, when they were out of sight of
the shop. "My foot's beginning to pain me. Poor Snip, dear old boy,"
she continued caressingly, as her brother slackened speed, and she
stroked the little dog's head. "His ears are torn, Bob, and he has a
bad bite in the neck. Was it a big dog he was fighting with?"
"It wasn't a dog at all," Bob answered. "It was an awful brute of a
monkey, which, I suppose Snip was foolish enough to interfere with."
"A monkey!" exclaimed Kitty in astonishment.
"Yes, a monkey nearly as big as you," her brother declared,
exaggerating without any intention of doing so, for to his frightened
gaze Bimbo had seemed of huge dimensions.
"Oh!" Kitty cried, immeasurably horrified. "What an escape Snip has
had! Don't you think he might walk, Bob, or are his legs hurt?"
"We'll see," Bob, replied, setting the little dog down upon the ground,
and patting him encouragingly.
Snip gave himself a shake. Evidently no bones were broken and his
injuries were superficial, for when his mistress and master moved
on he followed them, looking a most dejected object, with his tail
tucked tightly between his legs, and his whole bearing spiritless and
crestfallen. Kitty's foot, by this time, was growing extremely painful,
and she limped as she walked, so that when home was reached she was not
far from tears.
"We shall have to tell where we've been," she said, sighing, as she
followed her brother into the house. "And we've done no good—I mean, we
haven't found out what we wanted to know."
"We'll tackle Tim himself on Saturday about the rabbit," her brother
replied. "We'll ask him point blank if it was his present; but it
would have been a joke if we could have found out where it came from
ourselves. I suspect old Dottin could have told us something about it
if he had liked. It was most unfortunate that Snip behaved as he did.
My, wasn't there a row!"
The children found their parents had not returned, so they went into
the kitchen and explained what had happened to cook and Mary. Mary
procured warm water and a sponge, and bathed Snip's injured ears, and
bound up the wound in his neck. When the kind-hearted girl had finished
her ministrations, the little dog crept into the box where he always
slept under the kitchen table, and curled himself up to rest.
"I expect he feels done up, poor thing," said cook. "I'll be bound to
say he'll think twice before he attacks a monkey again."
"Miss Kitty is done up, too," observed Mary. "You'd best have your
supper and go to bed, miss; you oughtn't to have walked so far with
that weak foot of yours."
The little girl took Mary's advice, and left her brother to relate
their evening's adventures to Mr. and Mrs. Glanville, who expressed
their opinion that they all ought to be thankful that poor Snip was not
more seriously hurt.
"The monkey might indeed have killed him," Mr. Glanville said, "and I
am not surprised that old Dottin was angry with you for taking the dog
in his shop. No doubt he is as much attached to his monkey as you are
to Snip. By the way, I suppose the monkey was not injured?"
"Not in the least, father," Bob replied. "Snip got much the worst of
the battle."
"I think you should have told us at tea-time where you intended going
this evening," Mrs. Glanville remarked. "The walk was too long for
Kitty. If you really suspect that Tim Shuttleworth purchased the rabbit
from old Dottin, ask the boy himself and no doubt he will tell you."
"That is what we mean to do, mother; but please don't you or father
speak to him about it. Let us do it ourselves."
Mr. and Mrs. Glanville promised they would not interfere in the matter;
and though Tim accompanied Mr. Glanville for a walk on the following
morning, and exclaimed at the sight of Snip with his torn ears and
bandaged neck, he was merely told that the dog had been fighting, and
that he must ask Kitty and Bob to tell him all about it. That same
day, in the evening, he found an opportunity of doing so, when, having
learnt their lessons, the sister and brother strolled out into the back
garden as usual.
"Hulloa, Kitty, you're quite lame again," called out Tim, who, mounted
on the ladder, was looking over the partition wall. "How is that?"
"Because I walked too far last night," answered Kitty. Then she
whispered to her brother, "Let us find out what we want to know now,
instead of waiting till Saturday."
"All right," agreed Bob promptly.
"It was last night Snip got so badly mauled, wasn't it?" questioned
Tim. "He must have had an awful fight. How did it happen? Was it a big
dog he fought with? I suppose it must have been."
"No," Bob replied. "It was old Dottin's monkey—Bimbo."
"Oh!" exclaimed Tim. "I've seen that monkey, but I thought it was
very quiet. What made you go to see old Dottin without me? Don't you
remember I promised to take you?" There was a tinge of reproach in his
tone, and an expression of anxiety had crept into his eyes.
"Yes," assented Kitty, "but we went on private business and wished to
go alone."
Tim looked snubbed, and his colour rose. He made a movement to descend
the ladder; but on second thoughts, he decided to remain where he was.
Bob began to explain.
"The fact is, we've been very puzzled since the day of the athletic
sports, when Kitty found out that Tom Hatch never sent her the rabbit
he, had promised me he would give her," he said. "We didn't tell you
about it at the time, because—well, we thought we wouldn't. We've been
trying to find out where Fluffy really came from, and now we think we
know."
"Did you find out from Mr. Dottin?" asked Tim, confusedly.
"No, we didn't," Kitty replied. "But we guess that you got Fluffy from
Mr. Dottin for us. Did you, Tim?"
Tim nodded, his face growing redder still.
"Oh, how kind of you!" cried Kitty, earnestly. "Thank you ever so much—"
"But why did you make such a mystery about it?" Bob burst in excitedly.
"Why did you put the rabbit in the hutch after dark?"
"So that you should both be surprised, and wonder whose present
it was," Tim answered. "And when I found out you weren't very
surprised—that you believed Torn Hatch had sent the rabbit—I didn't
like to own up, for fear you wouldn't believe me."
"Of course we should have believed you," declared Bob. "We should have
known you wouldn't tell a lie."
Tim winced on hearing this, remembering the deliberate untruth he had
once told Kitty. The little girl was regarding him with wondering blue
eyes.
"I shall never be able to thank you properly," she said gravely. "You
are the kindest boy I ever knew, and I haven't deserved that you should
be kind to me—indeed I haven't. Bob knows that don't you, Bob? I ought
to tell you, Tim, that, until quite lately, I believed you had had
to do with the death of my rabbit, and I hope you'll forgive me for
thinking it. I had no right to think so badly of you as that, and now
I'm dreadfully ashamed to remember that I did. Do forgive me, won't
you?"
"I—I've nothing to forgive," gasped Tim, utterly taken aback by the
little girl's words and the remorseful expression of her face. "I—I
wish you wouldn't speak like that, and—"
"Just say you forgive her, Shuttleworth, and she'll be satisfied,"
interposed Bob. "It's been on her mind that she's thought worse of you
than you deserve," he added with a smile.
"Yes, I ought to have taken your word, Tim," said Kitty distressfully.
"I know now that you wouldn't tell a story for the world. Why, what's
the matter?"
Well might she inquire, for Tim's plain, freckled countenance was
quivering with strong emotion. The next moment he disappeared from view
on the other side of the wall, leaving the brother and sister staring
at each other in blank amazement.
"He could hardly keep from crying," said Bob, "that's why he's gone. I
should never have thought he was such a moody-hearted chap as that."
"I didn't say anything to hurt him, did I?" asked Kitty anxiously.
Then, as Bob shook his head, she proceeded, "Fancy his keeping the
secret about Fluffy all this time! If father had allowed me to tell him
that I saw him take away the covered basket, we should have found out
the truth before. I was right about that, you see. Perhaps he'll come
back in a few minutes and talk to us again."
But Tim did not return. He had rushed indoors and upstairs to his own
room; and whilst Kitty and Bob lingered in the garden, waiting and
hoping to see his red head appear over the wall he was sobbing by his
bedside and shedding the bitterest, most repentant tears that had ever
dimmed his eyes in his short life, as he recalled the words Kitty had
spoken in such a tone of conviction—"I know now that you wouldn't tell
a story for the world."