UNCLE EPHRAIM DISPLAYS GREAT INTEREST
The boys had scarcely gripped each other when Lon realized that he was
now no better able to cope with his rival in a wrestling bout than he
was at their last encounter, months previous. The stableboy of the
Three Oaks Inn had been in perfect training every day of his active
life. Lon was lazy, and had to be fairly driven to work by his father.
He would much rather roam the woods with a gun and dog, or go fishing,
than do those tasks which fell to the share of the other lads of the
neighborhood, and leaping and running, and frolicking with his friends
in their off-hours, had not hardened his muscles as Hadley’s toil
hardened his.
The latter obtained a good hold on his enemy and, with a sudden
squeeze, almost drove the breath out of Lon’s lungs. The Tory youth
gasped as he felt this sudden strength. “Oh! oh!” he groaned. And then,
kicking frantically and endeavoring to beat his antagonist in the face
with his fists, cried aloud to the excited dog: “Sic ’im, sir! Go at
’im!”
The mongrel, as cruel as its master, plunged into the fray and grabbed
at Hadley’s leg. Fortunately, the stableboy wore high riding boots, and
instead of seizing the calf of his leg, the brute sunk its teeth in the
leather. The attack, however, brought Hadley to the ground, with the
dog chewing at the bootleg and snarling, and Lon Alwood on top. But the
under boy still hugged his human antagonist tightly to him, and for the
moment his brute enemy did little harm.
All the time Lon was encouraging the dog in his attack, but Hadley
would not strike him. “Call off the beast and fight fair, Alwood!” he
said. “Call him off and try it over again. This is no fair game.”
Lon’s only answer was a more desperate attempt to get his arms free
and so strike his enemy with more precision. But the unequal contest
was exhausting Hadley’s strength, and he knew he could not keep his
advantage for long. So, putting forth all his remaining energy, he
suddenly rolled Lon over and came uppermost himself. The dog yelped
loudly and let go the boot, for Hadley had managed to give him a
well-placed kick at the same moment, and while the brute was recovering
from this the boy broke away from Lon and sprang to his feet.
The dog seeing its master on the ground, growled savagely and leaped
for Hadley again--this time for his throat. But the boy was ready for
the attack, and the toe of his riding boot caught the animal under
the jaw and sent it backward with terrific force. Lon had secured his
footing, too, and seeing his canine friend so badly treated, came at
Hadley with redoubled fury. The latter caught him at arms’ length and
before Lon could secure any hold, threw him forcibly to the ground.
The dog happened to be in the way and his master fell flat upon him and
with sufficient force to break the animal’s spine. The dog’s almost
humanlike cry of agony shocked Hadley, and his anger was gone in an
instant. “Oh, the poor creature!” he cried, and as Lon got up, bleeding
at the nose and much bruised, Hadley knelt down beside the beast to
see how badly it was hurt. But with a few spasmodic jerks of its limbs
the dog lay still; its master’s fall had killed it.
Alwood, however, little interested in the death of the faithful
creature, was searching about the pasture, and suddenly finding a
smooth cobble, hurled it with all his might at the kneeling boy.
Fortunately, Hadley turned in time to see the action and dodge the
stone. He leaped up, and Lon turned tail and ran to escape merited
punishment for this cowardly act.
“That fellow hasn’t a spark of honor,” thought the victor of this
rather sanguinary encounter. “He can’t fight fair. I’m sorry I killed
his dog; but I don’t believe Lon thought of the poor brute at all.
He was just mad at me and cared nothing about it. I’ll have to watch
out for Lon Alwood, for he’ll seek to injure me without giving fair
warning, I know.”
His encounter with the Tory youth had detained him, until now it was
growing dusk along the edges of the wood which bordered the pasture.
He hurried on and soon arrived at the outbuildings and barns belonging
to his uncle. The cattle had come up to the barnyard and the cows were
being milked by the hired hands, while Ephraim overlooked the feeding.
If the old gentleman deprived himself of everything but the bare
necessities of life, he was careful that his stock was well fed.
The men were mostly lads from neighboring farms, who went home at
night, working for their monthly wage for Master Morris because there
was not enough to do to keep them busy at home. They cordially greeted
the miser’s nephew, for though they were nearly all from Tory families,
Hadley was popular with them. Ephraim Morris, however, had but a cold
welcome for the stableboy.
“Well,” he said, in an unpleasant voice, “what have you got to say for
yourself, Hadley?”
“About what, uncle?” demanded the boy.
“Oh, I’ve heard all about it. I let you work for that innkeeper and
this is what it comes to, hey? I thought so--I thought so! Hanging
around a place like that would spoil anybody’s morals. I’m surprised at
you, Hadley--and your mother was a good woman. And for you, who were
born a British subject on English soil yourself, to help these crazy
colonists along--”
“But I believe they are right, uncle, just as you believe the king and
the king’s men are right.”
“Pah! pah!” exclaimed the old man, savagely. “What does a boy like
you know of such matters? You have hung about that Jonas Benson, and
his inn, which is a hotbed of rebellion, so long that you talk like a
lawyer. It is ruining you, and I won’t have a nephew of mine--”
“But Master Benson pays you my wages regularly, doesn’t he?” demanded
Hadley, before the old man could say anything rash.
“Hem--well, I can say he does,” admitted Uncle Ephraim, and subsided
for a moment. Soon, however, he started on a new tack. “Who is this
English officer who is a guest at the inn, nephew?” he asked. “It is
said that he is a great man from York way. And to think that you should
oppose a gentleman and an officer of His Majesty’s army!”
“I don’t know how great a man he is,” Hadley returned. “He calls
himself Colonel Creston Knowles--”
The old man started and leaned forward so that his wrinkled face came
within the candlelight. Wonder, and an expression which seemed like
fear, slowly grew upon his countenance. “Who did you say he was?” he
demanded, his lean fingers clutching the edge of the table.
“Colonel Creston Knowles, uncle. His daughter, Mistress Lillian, is
with him. They have come into Jersey to find a family by our name, I
understand. Both of them have asked me about you, sir.” While he said
this, Hadley scrutinized Uncle Ephraim closely. The old man was much
disturbed, for he sat silent for several minutes and his face showed
plainly that he was the man Colonel Knowles was so anxious to see. “Who
is Colonel Knowles?” the boy asked, at length. “What does he want to
see you for? Is he--is he related to us in any way?”
“No, no!” snarled the miser. “He’s nothing to either you or me. I--I
don’t know him--I don’t know him, I tell you! Now, go to bed, and don’t
disturb me with your questions.”
Hadley cleared up the untidy kitchen as best he could, and then lit a
tallow dip at the single candle on the table, and obeyed his uncle’s
behest by mounting the stairs to the loft over the room. He went to bed
at once, for he was tired enough, but he could not sleep for thinking
of his uncle’s strange manner and words. There was some mysterious
connection between Colonel Knowles and the Morrises; but Uncle Ephraim
did not intend to admit it.
Hadley fell into a doze at last, but only for a short time. The squeak
of a door below aroused him, and after listening a moment and fancying
all sort of noises, as one will in the night when the house is still,
he crept out of bed, slipped on his outer clothes again, and tiptoed
to the head of the stairs to see if his uncle had himself gone to bed.
There was a faint light below, and the boy was confident that the
candle must be burning, for Uncle Ephraim would never leave a fire on
the hearth at this time of the year.
Carefully going down several steps in perfect silence, he managed to
get a view of the whole kitchen, including the fireplace, and what was
his astonishment to see Ephraim Morris standing upon a chair before
an old brick oven built high in the chimney, and which Hadley never
remembered seeing opened before. It was open now, however, and the old
gentleman had his head and shoulders thrust inside, as though reaching
for something concealed at the extreme back of the oven.