CHAPTER VIII

BILLIARD RUNS AWAY

Billiard, white, scared, remorseful, had crept away up the mountainside

the minute he had seen Dr. Hayes bending beside the still form on the

kitchen floor, and remained in his retreat, watching the house with

frightened eyes, until the physician's bulky figure strode down the

path toward town again. Then, flinging himself face down in the

gravel, he sobbed in unrestrained relief, until, exhausted by the

strain of his recent fearful experience, he fell asleep in the shadow

of a ragged boulder, where late that afternoon Tabitha found him, after

a vain search about house and yard.

Surprised at having caught a glimpse of this unsuspected side of the

bully's character, she beat a hasty retreat, and with the tact of a

diplomat, sent one of the younger girls in quest of him, feeling that

he might resent being awakened by her while the trace of tears still

showed on his face. Nor was she mistaken in this surmisal, for the

instant the boy's eyes unclosed in response to Susie's energetic

shaking, he demanded, "Does Tabitha--know where I am?"

"She wouldn't have set the rest of us to hunting if she had, would she?"

"Well, 'tain't necessary for you to tell her I was asleep. The sun was

so hot it made my head ache, and I guess it has burned my face to a

blister," cautiously touching his puffed, smarting cheeks.

Susie eyed the swollen lids and scarlet visage suspiciously, but for

once held her tongue, only announcing briefly as she started on a trot

down the trail, "We're waiting supper for you."

"Well, you needn't for I'm not hungry. Tell Tabitha I don't want

anything to eat. I am going to bed. My head aches."

"All right," retorted Susie, too cheerfully, he thought with bitterness

in his heart, as he followed her nimble feet toward the house. He had

hoped she would at least express some sympathy for his aching head; but

what did she care? What did anyone care about him? Morosely he

shambled along behind his agile cousin; but instead of entering the

kitchen, which was of necessity also the dining-room, he chose the

front door, and quietly sought the room where he and his brother slept.

Toady's pale face on the pillow made him pause on the threshold, while

a twinge of remorse tugged at his heart, but the victim, hearing the

creak of the opening door, opened his round eyes, and smiling

beatifically, asked in a weak voice, "Seen Tabitha?"

Billiard grunted an unintelligible reply.

"Tell you what, she's a crackerjack!" continued the invalid. Then, as

Billiard's only answer was a vicious jerk which divested him of collar

and waist at a single effort, Toady cried in surprise, "Why, Bill, have

you had your supper?"

"Don't want any!" growled the other, tugging savagely at his boots.

"What's the matter? Sick?"

"Headache!"

"_You_ didn't eat any castor-beans, did you?"

Billiard paused in the act of crawling into bed to glare angrily at his

brother, thinking he was being made fun of; but Toady's cherubic face

seemed to allay his suspicions, and he briefly, but savagely replied,

"Naw!"

"You better tell Tabitha--" began Toady in genuine solicitude; but

Billiard again misconstrued his brother's meaning, and interrupted,

"Aw, shut up! Let a feller alone for once, can't you?" And as

Billiard wriggled into bed, puzzled Toady lapsed into silence.

Tabitha, too, was puzzled by the older boy's actions. She had hoped

that the poisoning of his brother would awake his better nature if

nothing else would, so she was keenly disappointed, as well as

surprised, at the change which now took place in him.

"It seems so strange," she confided to Gloriana. "He acted so terribly

cut up the day he brought Toady home sick, that I thought it would cure

him of his mean mischief, at least. But now he seems bent on trying to

find the limit of human endurance--doubling his mischief and being more

aggravatingly hateful than ever."

"Perhaps he is getting even for Toady's reform," suggested the

red-haired girl, looking worried.

"Toady--bless the boy!" exclaimed Tabitha fervently. "I should go wild

if he had taken the streak Billiard has."

"And yet I can see how provoking it must be to Bill----"

"Why, Gloriana!"

"I mean that Toady's declaration of independence would naturally rouse

Bill's 'mad,' as Rosslyn says, when Toady had blindly followed his

leadership for so long. And besides, the way Toady flaunts his virtues

in his brother's face----"

"That _is_ rather amusing, isn't it?"

"Provoking? I should, say! Billiard has been used to saying the word

and Toady has obeyed. It's rather a--a--jar, to be defied, or ignored

all of a sudden. Bill is bright----"

"Too bright," sighed Tabitha, somewhat sarcastically, Gloriana thought.

"He _is_ bright!" championed the younger girl warmly. "This morning I

happened to overhear him teasing the girls at play under the kitchen

window, and he declared that it was a mistake for Inez and Irene to be

twins; that it should have been Susie and Inez, and then their names

would have been Suez and Inez."

Tabitha smiled in spite of herself, then said heatedly, "But he is so

mean about it! To-day while you were at the bakery and he thought I

had gone for the mail, I heard a commotion in the yard, and what do you

suppose I found him doing?"

Gloriana shook her head.

"He had the girls and Rosslyn lined up by the woodpile and was making

them carry in _his_ wood. Even little Janie was loaded down with two

immense sticks, so heavy she could hardly toddle with them."

"What did you do?"

"Made them drop their loads right where they were, and he had to carry

it all in by himself."

"Without even Toady's help?"

"All by himself!" repeated Tabitha emphatically.

"I am afraid--we are not apt--to----"

"To what?" asked Tabitha, as her companion stammered in confusion and

paused abruptly.

"To gain anything--_much_ of anything by trying to force Billiard into

being good."

"How _are_ we to make him mind, then? He won't coax. You can't

flatter him into behaving himself, and threats don't do a mite of good.

_I_ think a smart dose of the hickory stick would be the most effective

medicine for such cases as his."

Glory looked dubious.

"You don't agree with me?" suggested Tabitha.

"He is such a big boy to be thrashed," she evaded.

"He is such a big boy to act that way!"

"Yes, that's true, but----"

How she would have finished her sentence Tabitha never found out, for

at that moment a piercing scream broke the stillness of the desert

afternoon, followed by a medley of excited accusations, denials,

threats, and Billiard's taunting laugh. Tabitha flew to the rescue of

her brood and found Irene stretched full length in the gravel, with

Mercedes and Toady deluging her with water, while the rest of the

sisters danced frantically about the trio.

"He--he shot her!" cried Rosslyn indignantly, at sight of the slender

figure in the doorway.

"I gave her fair warning," said defiant Billiard.

"Hand me your gun!" demanded Tabitha in exasperation, after a hasty

examination of the victim had convinced her that Irene was more

frightened than hurt.

"Gun! Ha, ha, ain't that rich?" mocked Billiard.

"'Twas a slingshot," volunteered Toady.

"And he shooted a rock," added Janie.

Tabitha held out her hand with an imperious gesture. "Pass it over

quietly, or I shall make you."

Billiard calmly pocketed the article in dispute, and seeing that Irene

was recovering under the heroic treatment of her amateur nurses, he

seated himself in tantalizing silence upon the saw-horse, as if to

enjoy the scene he had created. But his enjoyment was short lived.

Tabitha, now thoroughly aroused, and forgetful of her dignity, swooped

down upon the tormentor, wrested his slingshot from his grasp, and

before anyone could divine her intentions, seized a barrel stave from

the woodpile and gave the surprised boy a sound drubbing.

In the midst of the thrashing, there came vividly to her mind her

childish horror of that day of reckoning with her father, when he had

struck her with one of his slippers, and she recalled the fact that it

was not the physical hurt, but the humiliation of the blow which had

wounded her most deeply. Flinging down the stick, she released the

struggling lad as suddenly as she had seized him; and in tones that

sounded husky in spite of herself, briefly ordered, "Go to your room!"

Angry, stunned, shamed, Billiard bounced through the kitchen, slammed

the door of his room, turned the key in the lock and--stood still in

the middle of the floor. Whipped by a girl not four years his senior!

Whipped by a _girl_! It was an unforgivable outrage. He would get

even for that. But what was he to do? Would _could_ he do? She had

beaten him at every turn, she had set Toady against him, she had made

him the laughing stock of his cousins. He--he--he would do something

desperate. He would----

As if in answer to his thoughts, he heard a strange voice close beside

the open window say, "Yes, he has run away. The inspector completed

his job this morning, found Atwater's accounts five hundred dollars

short, and he skipped."

"Who?" demanded Mercedes. "The post-master?"

"Yep! Lit out. Can't have been gone more'n an hour, but no one seems

to have seen him anywhere around town, and they are scouring the

country for him."

Billiard drew a deep breath. That was an idea. Why hadn't he thought

of it before! He, too, would run away. Stealthily he crept to the

little closet, selected a clean shirt, a pair of stockings, a necktie,

and his pajamas, tied them up in a bath-towel, not having such a thing

in his wardrobe as a bandana handkerchief, although he felt that this

was an essential; and after a cautious survey of the premises to make

sure that the children were nowhere near, he crawled out of the window,

carefully shut the screen again, and darted swiftly down the steep,

pathless incline on the west side of the house to the flat below. It

was a hazardous undertaking, and at any other time he would have shrunk

from attempting it, but in his unreasonable anger and desire for

revenge, all else was forgotten; and he arrived at the sandy bottom

breathless, badly scratched by the mesquite, and smarting from the

prick of cactus thorns, but triumphant.

Pausing only long enough to shake his fist defiantly at the house on

the cliff above, he made off across the desert as fast as his legs

would carry him. His first idea had been to follow the railroad, but

on second thought he concluded that he might easily be overtaken and

brought back if he took that course. So after a brief survey of the

pathless landscape, he decided to skirt the mountains in whose hollow

lay the town of Silver Bow, and to strike off to the west, in the

direction of a neighboring mining camp called Crystal City.

"If I _should_ miss that place," he reasoned to himself, "I am sure to

get somewhere. Perhaps to Los Angeles that Mercy goes so crazy about.

Say, that's just the thing! It takes only about twelve hours to get

there by train; I ought to be able to walk it in two days, and I'll

join the navy. I always did want to be a sailor!"

So he trudged sturdily on through the heavy sand of the flats, building

air castles and nursing his wrath, but paying little heed to the course

he was taking, until with a shiver of alarm he discovered that the

afternoon sun had set and the range of white-capped mountains which

sheltered Crystal City was seemingly no nearer than when he had set

out. He began to feel faint with hunger and thirst, and was appalled

to think he had forgotten in his flight to pack any lunch in his small

store of belongings, and was now what seemed miles from civilization,

in the midst of the pathless desert with neither food nor drink, and

night coming on.

Night! He shuddered. How could he have forgotten the night part of

it? Where was he to stay? He was afraid of the desert darkness.

Somehow, it always seemed blacker and stiller there than anywhere else

on earth. But perhaps the moon would come up. That would be lots of

company, and the weather was so warm that he would really enjoy

sleeping out in the open air. Eagerly he scanned the evening sky, and

perceiving that the east appeared to be growing lighter, his spirits

began to rise. After all, he was not sorry he had run away. Wouldn't

there be consternation in the Eagles' Nest when his absence was

discovered? How Tabitha would regret her unwarranted harshness! And

Toady--Toady would cry and snivel because he had deserted his dear, big

brother in his hour of need. And searching parties would be sent all

over the country to find him. How he gloated over the pictures his

vivid imagination had drawn!

But all the while he stumbled on, it was growing darker, the landscape

had become an indistinct blur, and night sounds filled the air. The

lonely howl of a wolf in the distance sent a chill of fear down

Billiard's spine; the scream of a night-hawk overhead made him jump

almost out of his shoes, and he was just beginning to consider where he

should lie down to sleep when a sudden scurry in the underbrush froze

him in his tracks. The next minute, however, he laughed at his fright,

for it was merely a mother burro and her baby colt which his steps had

routed from their hiding-place and sent flying across the flats for

safety. A twig snapping sharply under his feet startled him; what

sounded like a warning hiss close by brought his heart into his mouth;

and trembling from head to foot he paused by a clump of Spanish

bayonets, uncertain what to do next.

Oh, if only he had not run away! If only he were sitting with the rest

of the lively troop of children around the supper table! Or perhaps it

was too late for supper now. More likely they would be preparing for

bed. What frolics they had enjoyed in the evenings when Tabitha made

taffy and recited stirring ballads to fill in the moments while the

toothsome sweet was cooking. What exciting tales his cousins told of

the brave, black-haired maid whom he was trying so hard to hate. He

did hate her! That is, sometimes he did. But he could not help

admiring her pluck, even though he stood in awe of the fierce temper

that blazed up so quickly, and as quickly died away again. She was

certainly a wonder for a girl. There was no 'fraid cat about her. He

wished she liked him better. But how could she, when he was so

tantalizing, mean and sly? Perhaps if he went back home, that is, to

Aunt----

"Hands up! We've got you at last!" growled a stern voice almost in his

ear, it seemed; and poor Billiard's hands shot high into the air, he

shut his eyes, held his breath and waited for the end. But to his

utter amazement, a second voice huskily replied, after an instant,

"Yes, you've got me, boys. I knew it was no use to run away,

but--I--couldn't bear--to stay--and know that everyone looked at me as

a thief. I never took the money."

The moon, which had seemed so slow in rising, had finally mounted to

the crest of the surrounding hills, and poured a stream of mellow light

upon the waste below. Billiard, his hands still thrust stiffly above

his head, now distinguished a few feet in front of him the dark shapes

of a dozen or more men, armed with revolvers, clustering around one

whom he recognized as Atwater, the runaway post-master of Silver Bow.

"That's all right, Atwater," growled the first speaker, who was

evidently leader of the posse. "Tell your tale in court, but be a man

and face the music. Fall in, boys!"

For a long time, Billiard watched them as they marched their hapless

prisoner back to town, and the leader's words kept ringing in his ears,

"Be a man and face the music!" Suddenly a new thought flashed through

his brain. Why had he not followed them? It wasn't too late yet. He

could still see their forms indistinctly moving across the desert, and

by following their lead, would sooner or later reach Silver Bow

himself. Stepping out from the clump of Spanish bayonets which had

formed his retreat, he set out on a dog-trot in the direction the men

had taken, and after a long, rough, weary journey, actually found

himself trailing up the familiar path to the Eagles' Nest.

He paused as he reached the children's play house and took a furtive

survey of the place. One lone light burned in the low cottage.

Probably Tabitha had missed him and was waiting for his return.

Supposing she should lick him again for running away?

"Billiard!"

'Twas only a whisper from a rock nearby? but the boy almost screamed

aloud in his fright at the unexpectedness of it.

"Sh!" the voice continued. "It's only I,--Glory. I had to go to the

drug-store for some alum,--Janie has the croup,--and I saw you coming

up the trail. Tabitha hasn't missed you yet. She has been so anxious

over the baby. So sneak back to your room and I'll bring you something

to eat as soon as I can. Run now! Tabitha will be expecting me."

"But Glory, doesn't _anyone_ know I--" began bewildered Billiard, much

taken back at his reception.

"Ran away?" finished Gloriana. "No one but Toady and myself. He won't

tell. I made him promise. Of course we'd have had to, if you hadn't

come back, but I knew--I thought you would--" How could she tell him

that she knew he was too much of a coward to persist in running away?

"Scramble into your room as quietly as possible," she continued, "so as

not to disturb the others, and I will bring you some supper in a minute

or so."

"You're--you're awfully good to a feller," mumbled the abashed boy,

wondering how he ever could have disliked the red-haired Glory.

"I--I'll not forget it." And as the girl hurried up the path to the

kitchen door, he skirted the house till he reached the window of his

room, through which he wriggled cautiously and disappeared in the

friendly darkness within, thankful that he was home again.

Tabitha's Vacation · 第 8 / 15 章