It was apparent from the looks of the spectators that they had anything
but a friendly greeting for the newcomers. Among them Rob saw ’Squire
Hardy seated on a big box, closely watching their approach. A number
of boys, whose ages ranged from twelve years to twenty, had hastily
collected, and these pushed themselves forward into the pathway of the
three from Break o’ Day.
One of these, whom Rob was soon to learn was the son of ’Squire Hardy,
immediately made himself prominent, saying, in a sneering tone, as he
pointed at Rob:
“Ain’t he a pretty duck, boys?”
“I wish to ask where Deacon Cornhill lives,” said Rob, concealing his
chagrin at the words of Ralph Hardy.
His intended question was followed by a painful silence, until the
’squire said:
“Well, why don’t you ask your question and have done with it? I should
think you would want to know the fix you have got the pious old deacon
into. Whose barn did you sleep in last night?”
“Nobody’s barn, sir. Will you tell me where Deacon Cornhill lives?”
At this point the ’squire held a hurried consultation with one of his
companions without heeding the words of Rob.
Not caring to have more to say to this crowd, Rob started to go on up
the village, when young Hardy stepped in front of him, saying:
“You ain’t answered the old man’s question yet. Where’d you stop last
night?”
“I do not know as that matters to you as long----”
“Mean to sass me, do you?” demanded Ralph Hardy, doubling up his fist
and acting as if he meant to fight. Half a dozen other boys, evidently
thinking there was going to be some “fun,” pressed forward closely upon
his heels.
By this time Rob and his companions were surrounded, so it looked as if
they would have trouble before they could get away.
“Punch him, Ralph; he’s nothing but a cooner!” called out the voice of
the tow-headed youth from the rear.
None of the men offered to stop the boys, but they watched the
proceedings with evident pleasure.
“I’m not meddling with you; let me go,” said Rob.
“You ain’t answered dad’s question. You can’t go till you have answered
that, you New York hoodlum.”
Though the words and tone of the speaker nettled Rob, he did not like
to begin a quarrel there, which he knew would likely work against
him, whatever the immediate result, so he started to move away without
paying further heed to the pugilistic young Hardy.
At that moment some one threw a ball of mud which struck him upon the
cheek, where the most of it stuck until he had wiped it away.
At this loud laughter, in which the men joined, rang tauntingly on his
ears.
“Looks well!” cried out one of the spectators. “Let me see if I can’t
fix the other cheek like it,” and a second mud-ball struck Rob in the
face, the moist dirt filling one eye so that he could not see plainly
with it. Abused nature could stand no more, and Little Hickory was
aroused. As soon as he could make himself heard for the loud huzzas
that followed this last insult, he said, in a tone that showed he was
in earnest:
“Stand aside, sir, and let me pass.”
“Lay so much as a finger on me if you dare!” replied Ralph Hardy,
without offering to let him pass. “I dare you to touch me!”
“I don’t want any trouble with you,” replied Rob. “We came here
peacefully, and it is you who are making the fuss.”
“You lie!” exclaimed young Hardy, shaking his fist in Little Hickory’s
face, “and daresn’t say you don’t!”
“If it were you alone and myself alone I’d make you eat them words,”
retorted Rob, his face now showing his righteous anger, while he
continued to advance.
“You’re a sneaking, low-lived, dirt-covered hoodlum of the alleys of
New York, and you have no business----”
Ralph Hardy had got so far, when, flourishing his fist in the face of
Little Hickory, he hit him plump on the nose.
It is doubtful if young Hardy had really intended to strike Rob, as it
was his purpose to make the latter begin the fight if he could, and the
blow was not a severe one. But, coupled with what had been said, it
was more than undaunted Little Hickory could bear, and he caught the
surprised bully by the waist with a strength which enabled him to lift
the other clear from the ground.
Just how it was done none of the spectators could say, but they saw
’Squire Hardy’s son descrying a circle in the air, and then he was
carried upward until he fell sprawling in the midst of a big mud puddle
half a rod away.
“Hooray!” cried Chick, who, with Ruddy, had been an anxious witness of
the preceding scene, but his cry was drowned by the uproar coming from
the crowd of men and boys.
“He’s killed Ralph!” shouted ’Squire Hardy. “Take him, boys!”
The onlookers immediately made a rush for the intrepid youth and his
two companions.
For a moment it looked as if Rob would be torn limb from limb, but in
order to do that it was first necessary to catch him.
If Little Hickory did not possess a pair of light feet, he did own a
pair of strong arms.
The first boy to reach him after Ralph shared the fate of the other.
The next was sent headlong to the ground at the foot of the steps
leading to the store.
By this time some of the crowd had rushed upon the rear, to be met by
Chick and Ruddy. This twain, if small, proved themselves to be worthy
of their leader. The first boy to feel their furious resistance was the
tow-headed youth already mentioned, and he was doubled to the earth by
their united efforts. Then they came in pairs, and so thick and fast
that the doughty Chick and Ruddy soon found more on their hands than
they could well handle.
Finding himself so hard pressed that he was likely to be borne to the
ground--crushed by an overwhelming power--Chick nimbly climbed the
tall figure of a stalwart young man, where he perched himself on his
shoulders, keeping his position in spite of the efforts of the other to
take him off.
Ruddy was scarcely less nimble, and finding himself beset by so many
enemies that he could not hold his own, dodged between the legs of the
nearest, sending him heels over head to the ground.
A second shared his fate, and, by dodging to and fro, squirming like
an eel as he passed one after another of the excited assailants, Ruddy
reached the outskirts of the crowd.
He might have easily escaped then, but seeing the desperate situation
of Rob, to say nothing of Chick, he sprang back into the fight like a
little game-cock, that never knows when it is getting the worst of it.
Assailed upon every hand, Little Hickory, as valiant a battle as he was
waging, sorely needed whatever assistance he could have. Regardless
of what might follow, in his excitement and awakened determination to
win at any cost, he sent his enemies reeling backward on either hand,
fairly forcing his way through the crowd.
“Don’t let the hoodlums get away!” cried ’Squire Hardy, hurrying
forward to join in the fray if necessary. “He’s killed Ralph!”
This announcement was enough to cause the men to take a hand in the
affray, and they rushed into the exciting scene just as Rob had finally
succeeded in reaching the side of Ruddy.
At that moment some one threw a stone the size of a man’s fist, and
the missile striking Little Hickory, he fell to the ground with a low
cry of pain.
“They’ve killed Rob!” cried Ruddy. “I’ll kill the hull scab of ’em!”
Catching up a handful of stones that lay only too handy for him, he
began to hurl them into the midst of the crowd, which so frightened the
men and boys that a hasty retreat was begun.
Crash went a pane of glass, where one of the rocks went hurling through
the store window, followed by a series of wild cries:
“Look out for the little devil or he’ll kill us!”