THE NIGHT-HAWKS IN ACTION.
Before Tom’s arrival on the common, the Night-hawks had been debating
a knotty question. For nearly three weeks, the society had been
inactive, not a single exploit having been performed to add to their
glory; and one of the members, becoming weary of the monotony, had
studied up a plan to “put a little life into the boys.” The scheme he
proposed rendered it necessary that some one should run considerable
risk; and the trouble among the Night-hawks had been occasioned by
the effort to decide who that some one should be.
It was proposed to present ’Squire Thompson--a crusty, nervous old
gentleman, whom all the boys delighted in teasing--with some of his
own fruit and vegetables. The ’squire lived in the village, but he
owned a farm about two miles back in the country, and it was there
the vegetables grew. In order to convey their present from the farm
to the village, it had been proposed to “borrow” the ’squire’s horse
and wagon; and it was when the question arose, who shall be the one
to go into the stable and harness the horse that the trouble began.
The Night-hawks were all delighted with the idea; but the difficulty
was to find a boy courageous enough to do the dangerous part of
the work. They were quite willing, and even eager, to engage in the
sport, but they did not like the idea of going into a man’s stable
after night, and “borrowing” his horse and wagon. It was a common
saying among the members of the society, that “’Squire Thompson slept
with one eye and both ears open;” besides, he kept two fierce dogs,
and the chances were not one in ten that they could harness the
horse, hitch him to the wagon, and escape without disturbing either
the dogs or some member of the ’squire’s family. It had at first been
suggested that the commander should appoint some one to do the work;
but the boys would not agree to this, neither would they allow the
“forlorn hope” to be selected by ballot. In short, the scheme was in
danger of being abandoned, when Tom’s arrival showed the Night-hawks
a way out of their difficulty. He was “just the man they wanted;” for
he was “the strongest and bravest fellow in the party, and wasn’t
afraid of any thing.”
“Well, Tom, what do you think of it?” asked Johnny Harding, after he
had explained the scheme, and described, in glowing language, the
astonishment and vexation ’Squire Thompson would experience when he
awoke the next morning and found his wagon before his door, loaded
with onions, cabbage, peaches, and green pumpkins. “Wouldn’t it be
gay?”
“Yes,” answered Tom, “it would be glorious. But who is to get the
horse and wagon?”
“Why, you are, of course!” answered Johnny. “If you refuse, it will
be the first time since we organized our society. You see, it’s
rather a difficult job, and no one but a very brave, strong, and
skillful fellow should be allowed to undertake it; for it isn’t
every boy that can go into a man’s stable, harness a horse, and bring
him out, without awakening some one. I acknowledge that I can’t do
it, but I know you can.”
“Yes, Newcombe,” chimed in several of the Night-hawks, “you’re the
only man in the party that we can trust. You know just how it ought
to be done.”
But Tom, just then, thought differently. He did not believe that he
was the bravest and most skillful member of the society, neither
did he like the idea of being obliged to secure the horse and wagon
for the expedition, for he knew there was danger in it. But still,
the thought of refusing to attempt it, never once entered into
his head--that would injure his reputation, for it would show the
Night-hawks that their grand commander was not half as brave as
they had imagined him to be. So, summoning up courage, he replied,
desperately:
“Well, I’ll do it! I am not afraid of ’Squire Thompson, nor his big
bull dogs either. But, before we go any further, I want one thing
understood. If I succeed in getting the horse and wagon, I am going
to do all the driving, and you mustn’t expect me to help load the
vegetables when we get to the farm.”
The Night-hawks, without hesitation, agreed to this arrangement, for
they knew, that in order to succeed in their undertaking, they must
allow Tom to have his own way in some things. They were delighted
that he had so readily yielded to their demands, and, in high glee,
they set out for ’Squire Thompson’s house. They did not all go
together, for, as it was only about half past eight o’clock, the
streets were not yet deserted, and the Night-hawks did not wish to
attract attention by marching through the village in a body.
Tom, accompanied by Johnny Harding and two more of his particular
friends, stopped to hold a consultation, when they arrived within a
short distance of the house, while the others kept on up the road
and sat down by the fence, to wait until Tom should bring out the
horse and wagon. After a few moments’ whispered conversation, Tom
and Johnny decided that their first care must be to reconnoiter the
premises, and ascertain exactly where the ’squire’s team was kept.
The coast was not altogether clear, for a light shone from the
windows of the house, showing that the ’squire’s family had not yet
retired; and, as Tom and his companions approached, a loud, fierce
bark told them that the dogs were on the watch. The stable was but
a short distance from the house, and in the same yard, and Tom knew
that his only chance for success was to devise some plan to occupy
the attention of the dogs until he could perform the work allotted to
him. The dogs evidently suspected that something unusual was going
on, for they followed the Night-hawks as they moved down the fence,
barking fierce and loud, as if to warn them that they intended to
keep a close watch on all their movements. Tom appeared perfectly
unconcerned, but the truth was, he was very glad indeed that there
was a high fence between him and the savage brutes.
“To tell what’s a fact, boys,” said he; “I don’t feel much like
taking a hand in this business to-night. I have walked a long way
through the hot sun to-day, and I’ve got a little touch of the
headache. I believe I have sprained my ankle, too,” he added,
suddenly beginning to limp, as if he found it exceedingly difficult
to walk. “I can hardly move.”
“That’s too bad,” said Johnny, offering his arm to support Tom. “But,
Newcombe, I know you are too spunky to allow a sprained ankle or a
little headache to stand between you and such fun as we are going to
have to-night.”
“It will soon wear off,” said the others.
The Night-hawks understood the motives of their chief as well as
he did himself, and it was plain that they did not intend to give
him an opportunity to back out. Tom, being well aware of this,
and seeing no possible chance for escape, again formed a reckless
determination to go through with his part of the work, if within
the bounds of possibility. They kept on down the fence until they
reached the stable, and, as they walked slowly along, Tom made a
close but rapid examination of the premises, and, to his delight,
found the two principal obstacles which he had imagined would stand
in his way removed. The horse had not been confined in the stable,
but was quietly grazing in a small pasture adjoining the barn-yard.
The wagon stood just inside the gate, and the harness lay upon the
seat, where the ’squire had thrown it before turning out his horse.
If the Night-hawks had had a faithful friend in the ’squire’s family,
who had been instructed to have every thing in readiness for the
expedition, he could not have arranged matters more to Tom’s liking.
“That’s lucky, isn’t it, fellows?” whispered Johnny, when he had
noticed these two points. “It’s just as we want it.”
“O, it’s all the same to me!” replied Tom, carelessly. “If the horse
and the wagon were both in the barn and locked up, I know I could get
them out!”
Tom’s courage always arose or fell in proportion to the number
of obstacles he found in his way. Up to this moment he had been
impatiently asking himself the question, how should he shirk his part
of the work if he found the horse and wagon locked up in the stable?
Had they been safe under lock and key, it is probable that Tom would
have refused to proceed further on account of his lame ankle and
severe headache; but when he found that they were in a position to be
secured with very little difficulty, he forgot to limp, his headache
left him as suddenly as it had come, and he became very courageous.
“Now, Newcombe,” said one of the boys, when they had walked entirely
around the ’squire’s yard, and had thoroughly reconnoitered the
situation, “how are you going to work it?”
“I’ll tell you what we’ll do,” said Johnny, who was always ready for
any emergency; “we’ll keep the dogs here, while Newcombe goes and
gets the horse.”
“But how are you going to do it?” asked Tom.
“With this!” replied Johnny, showing a stick, which he carried in his
hand. “Every time the dogs start to go away, I’ll pound on the fence
with this cane. That will make them mad, and they won’t leave here as
long as we are in sight.”
“I’d like to see that plan tried before I risk it,” said Tom,
doubtfully. “Perhaps it won’t work.”
As he spoke, he walked off toward the barn. The dogs followed him;
but when Johnny rattled his stick between the pickets, they bounded
back, and the larger of the dogs made a desperate attempt to leap
the fence to get at Johnny.
“They’re savage, aint they?” whispered the latter.
“I should say they were!” replied Tom, his courage gradually melting
away again. “Boys, my head aches awfully, and my ankle grows worse
every minute.”
“Never mind that!” said Johnny. “It’ll soon wear off. My plan works
first rate, don’t it, boys? Go on, Newcombe; we’ll agree to keep the
dogs here.”
“But, fellows,” said Tom, who did not like to be required to do all
the work alone, “one of you ought to go with me and help me pull that
wagon out of the yard. It’s too heavy for me!”
“O, nonsense!” exclaimed Johnny. “You’re the strongest fellow in the
party, and you could pull that wagon from here to the farm and back
again, with all the boys in it. Go ahead, Newcombe! We’ll keep the
dogs here!”
“But suppose I can’t catch the horse?” persisted Tom. “Perhaps he
kicks or bites strangers.”
“O, no, he don’t. He’s as gentle as an old cow. You’ll have no
trouble. Go on, Newcombe! We haven’t got much more time to waste.”
Tom, finding that the boys were determined that he should do all the
work, at length succeeded in mustering up courage enough to start off
alone. As he walked by the house, he glanced in at the window, the
curtain of which was raised, and saw the ’squire, sitting in his easy
chair, and the other members of his family gathered about a table,
engaged in various evening occupations. The ’squire had, of course,
heard the noise made by his dogs, but, thinking that they were
barking at persons who every evening passed by his house on the way
to their own homes, he did not trouble himself about the matter.
After satisfying himself that none of the family had been alarmed,
Tom again started off. Reaching the stable, he carefully unlatched
the gate, and placed a stick of wood against it to keep it open;
then, seizing the thills of the wagon, he prepared to make an
exhibition of that tremendous strength which had won for him from the
Night-hawks the name of being the “strongest fellow in the party.”
The wagon was not a heavy one, but it must have been rooted to the
ground; for Tom, for a long time, exerted his muscles in vain. The
grand commander, however, always worked harder and more perseveringly
in a bad cause than he did in a good one, and at last the wagon
moved; and after considerable pulling and grunting, Tom succeeded in
drawing it through the gate into the road. After listening again, to
be sure that no one in the house had heard what was going on, and
that Johnny was still successful in occupying the attention of the
dogs, Tom closed and fastened the gate; and again taking hold of the
wagon, pulled it down the road toward the place where the main body
of the Night-hawks were hidden behind the fence, impatiently waiting
for him. Tom’s spirits rose considerably when he found that he had
successfully accomplished part of his work; and when the Night-hawks
sprang from their concealments, and took hold to help him along with
the wagon, he did not ask any of them to assist him in catching the
horse. The numerous congratulations he received from his friends,
who called him a “jolly old brick,” and a “spunky boy,” accompanied
by repeated assurances that they had always known that he was the
“strongest and bravest fellow in the society,” greatly encouraged
him; and had the horse been locked up in the stable, he would not
have hesitated to make the attempt to bring him out.
When they had pulled the wagon as far as the fence which bounded the
lower end of the pasture, Tom ordered a halt, and taking the bridle
out of the wagon, climbed over into the inclosure to catch the horse.
This was a signal to the Night-hawks, who, thinking that there was
still a chance for discovery, hid themselves behind the fence, or
stood in readiness to run off, should the ’squire’s dogs make their
appearance. As for Tom, he had suddenly become very reckless, and he
did not trouble his head about the dogs, or the ’squire either. The
horse proved to be very gentle, as Johnny had said he would, and the
grand commander had no difficulty in catching him and slipping the
bridle over his head. He then led him up to the fence, a portion of
which--it being built of rails--was thrown down by the Night-hawks,
who again made their appearance; and, after the horse had been led
into the road, some built up the fence again, others began to harness
the horse, and two of the members, in obedience to Tom’s orders, ran
off to inform Johnny that every thing was ready for the start. By the
time Harding and his friends arrived, the horse had been hitched to
the wagon, and Tom sat on the seat, with a whip in one hand and the
reins in the other.
“All aboard, fellows!” whispered the grand commander, and the
Night-hawks, thirteen in number, tumbled into the wagon, which moved
off on the road to ’Squire Thompson’s farm. Tom had conducted all
his operations in a very cautious manner, and no one in the house had
been alarmed.
“Newcombe,” whispered Johnny, as Tom drove off, “if there was no
danger of being overheard, we’d give you nine rousing cheers. You’re
a genuine brick.”
The congratulations the chief received for the skill and bravery he
had exhibited, were much more numerous than refined. The Night-hawks
said and did every thing they could to convince him that they held
his services in high appreciation; and Tom listened eagerly to all
their compliments.
It was two miles to the farm; but Tom, being anxious to reach home
again as soon as possible, put whip to the horse, which whirled his
wagon load of mischievous Night-hawks rapidly over the road; and,
at the end of half an hour, Tom drew up before the gate of ’Squire
Thompson’s farm and stopped. Johnny Harding sprang out of the wagon
and opened the gate; after which Tom drove on, until he reached a
barn, which was situated near the middle of the farm. Here he stopped
again, and the Night-hawks, springing out of the wagon, started
off in different directions to hunt up the vegetables--all except
the grand commander, who, according to the agreement made before
starting, was not required to assist in loading the cargo. There was
now no danger of discovery. There was a house on the farm, but no one
lived in it, and it was an easy matter to conduct their operations
without making noise enough to alarm any of the neighbors.
The Night-hawks were not at all particular as to the nature of their
“present,” for whatever articles came first to their hands--such
as shovels, rakes, hoes, sticks of wood and chips--were seized and
thrown into the wagon. But still there was room for a few vegetables,
and presently a boy appeared with his arms filled with onions,
followed by two or three loaded with green pumpkins, and Johnny
Harding brought up the rear, bringing a goose, which he had captured
after a long race.
“O, now, let him go!” exclaimed Tom. “Don’t bring him here. He’ll
arouse every body within a mile around.”
“No fear of that,” replied Johnny, confidently. “I’ll carry him in my
arms, and every time he tries to make a noise I’ll choke him.”
This suggested a slight change in the original programme, for all the
Night-hawks now turned their attention to the ’squire’s live stock.
Some climbed over the fence into the barn-yard, and endeavored to
capture one of the calves, others attempted to run down the remainder
of the geese, and the result was that, in a very few moments, all
the dogs in the neighborhood had been aroused, and were barking
vociferously.
“Our game is up now, boys,” said Johnny. “Let’s be off, or we’ll have
the Philistines down on us. I wish we could have caught two or three
of those calves, and the rest of the geese. However, we have got as
large a load already as this old horse can pull. All aboard, fellows!
Drive on, Tom.”
The retreat from the farm was easily accomplished, and as soon as the
Night-hawks were satisfied that they were out of danger, they began
to indulge in speculations as to what ’Squire Thompson would say
when he found what a present they had brought him; and Tom declared
that he would like to be “hidden behind a tree somewhere, so that he
might hear all the ’squire had to say about it.” Had he known what
was to happen before he got through with his night’s work, it is
probable that he never would have given utterance to this wish. But
Tom was not as happy as he pretended to be. He was thinking of a most
unpleasant task he had yet to perform, and that was to put the horse
and wagon where he had found them. This was a particularly dangerous
piece of work, and he would have been glad, indeed, could he have
thought of some plan to shift the responsibility upon the shoulders
of some body else.
“Boys,” said he, after thinking the matter over, “I propose that we
don’t put the wagon back in the yard. Let’s leave it outside the
gate.”
“O, no, Newcombe,” replied Johnny, quickly, “that would spoil it all.
In order to do the business up nicely, we must put every thing back
where we found it.”
“But just look at the risk I shall run,” said Tom. “You must remember
that the wagon is loaded, and that I can’t pull it from the pasture
to the barn. It’s too heavy.”
“Of course it is. You will have to drive right into the stable-yard.”
“It’s dangerous!” repeated Tom.
“I know it is,” said Johnny; “but I know also that you are not afraid
to do it.”
“Of course he isn’t,” chimed in another. “I don’t believe that
Newcombe knows what fear is.”
The long and short of the matter was, that, by the time the
Night-hawks reached the fence that bounded the lower end of ’Squire
Thompson’s pasture, Tom had been so skillfully handled by his
companions, that he promised to put the wagon where he had found
it, no matter if the ’squire and both his dogs were there to oppose
him. But still he thought it best to be cautious, and, when they had
arrived within a short distance of the house, Tom told Johnny to go
round to the front of the lot and occupy the attention of the dogs as
he had done before.
“All right, I’ll do it,” replied Johnny. “Here, Harry Green, hold my
goose till I come back.”
“Now, boys, I’m afraid of that goose,” said Tom. “You had better let
him go.”
“O, no,” replied Harry, “I’ll watch him.”
Tom was not satisfied with this arrangement, but he was obliged to
submit to it; and Johnny, after cautioning the grand commander to be
very careful, set off to find the dogs, accompanied by two or three
of his friends. The dogs, being on the alert, soon became aware of
the presence of the Night-hawks, and Johnny had no difficulty in
inducing them to follow him to the lower end of the lot, where he
stopped, and sent one of the boys back to inform Tom that the coast
was clear. The grand commander reluctantly mounted to his seat in
the wagon, and drove toward the barn. He drove very slowly, but the
wagon, being heavily loaded, made a great deal of noise, and Tom was
more than once on the point of going back to his companions, and
informing them that, if they wished the wagon left in the barn-yard,
they must send some one besides himself to put it there. But he knew
just what would happen if he backed out, and, fearing ridicule more
than the wrath of the ’squire, he kept on, resolved to make the
attempt, and, if he failed, to effect his escape as best he could. He
was followed by several of the Night-hawks, one of whom opened the
gate when he reached the stable, and Tom drove into the yard. At this
moment the goose, which Harry Green held in his arms, and which he
intended to tie with his handkerchief and put into the wagon as soon
as the horse was unharnessed, escaped from its captor and flew over
the fence into the yard, making noise enough to awaken the soundest
sleeper in the ’squire’s family.
“There,” exclaimed Tom; “I told you just how it would be.”
“Hurry up, Newcombe,” whispered several of the boys. “It’s getting
unhealthy about here.”
Before Tom could jump down from the wagon, however, a low whistle
from Johnny Harding told him that something was wrong in that quarter
also. This was followed by a commotion in the house, the door opened,
and ’Squire Thompson, with a lantern in one hand and a huge cane in
the other, sprang down the steps, shouting:
“Here they are! Take ’em dogs, take ’em!”
All this happened in less time than it takes to write it, but the
angry ’squire had scarcely made his appearance when the nimble
Night-hawks, who had held themselves in readiness for this emergency,
closed the gate and took to their heels, leaving the grand commander
to fight his enemies, or to escape if he could. Tom saw, at a glance,
that he had got himself into trouble, and that his chances for flight
were very slim indeed. But he could not surrender without making
an attempt to save himself; so he sprang down from the wagon and
started for the gate; but a loud, fierce bark, accompanied by an
encouraging yell from the ’squire, told him that his pursuers were
not far behind, and that his escape in that direction was cut off.
Even if he succeeded in opening the gate before the dogs arrived,
they would follow him down the road, and overtake him before he
had gone twenty yards. Tom gave himself up for lost, and his only
desire was to get out of reach of the dogs. He feared them more than
the ’squire. There was a cherry-tree close at hand, and the grand
commander sprang into its branches with the agility of a cat; but
scarcely had he climbed out of reach, when the dogs arrived. To
Tom’s surprise and delight, they did not stop under the tree, but
ran straight to the gate, where they stood, and kept up a furious
barking, until the ’squire appeared on the scene.
“Catch ’em, dogs--catch the young scoundrels,” he exclaimed, opening
the gate.
The dogs bounded out into the road, and disappeared in the direction
taken by the Night-hawks. But the latter had made good use of their
time, and presently the dogs returned without having overtaken any
of them. They were all safe except the grand commander, who sat in
his tree and awaited the issue of events in a most unpleasant frame
of mind. He had assured his friends that he would like to be in a
position to “hear what the ’squire had to say about it;” and he
seemed in a fair way to have his wish gratified.
“The young scoundrels!” exclaimed the ’squire, as he closed the gate.
“Those boys ought all to be taken care of. I wonder what they were
prowling about here for? Hallo, what’s this?”
[Illustration: TOM CAPTURED BY THE SQUIRE.--Page 205.]
He had, for the first time, discovered that his horse and wagon had
been used; and when he walked up and examined the contents of the
wagon, his rage knew no bounds.
“I wish I had the rascals here,” he exclaimed, in a voice that made
Tom tremble; “I’d teach ’em. Here are hoes, rakes, onions, pumpkins,
and--what’s this? My two-horse plow, that I took out to the farm day
before yesterday. The young rascals! What is it, Tiger? Look to him,
old fellow.”
While the ’squire had been examining the articles in the wagon, Tom
was indulging in the hope that he might not be discovered. The dogs
had not seen him climb into the tree, but they had sharp noses, and
the ’squire’s exclamation had been called forth by the actions of
one of the dogs, which ran to the foot of the tree, and growled and
barked furiously.
“What’s up there, I say?” continued the ’squire, elevating his
lantern, and peering up into the branches. “Ah, I’ve got you, you
rascal! Come down from there! Who are you?”
“O, it’s me; don’t you know me, Mr. Thompson?” whined Tom, who saw
that he was discovered, and that further concealment was useless.
“No, I don’t know me,” shouted the ’squire, in a most savage tone of
voice; “come down from there!”
“Call your dogs off, then!” drawled Tom, “and I’ll come down.”
“Who are you?” demanded the ’squire again, for he did not recognize
Tom, hidden as he was among the branches of the tree. “What’s your
name?”
“O, now, I’m Tom Newcombe! Don’t you know me, Mr. Thompson?”
answered the grand commander in a most pitiful voice.
“Tom Newcombe!” repeated the ’squire, in astonishment. “Why, I am
surprised at you, Tom; I always thought you were a good boy, and I
never imagined that you would disgrace yourself by stealing a man’s
horse and wagon, and--come down from there, you young scoundrel.”
The ’squire was very much astonished when he learned the name of his
prisoner; for Tom, although he had often engaged with the Night-hawks
in expeditions of this kind, had never before been detected in them;
he had been so sly about it, that no one in the village ever thought
he had a hand in their affairs. Those who were not very intimately
acquainted with Tom, looked upon him as a lazy, do-nothing sort of
boy, who could not muster up energy enough to engage in any mischief;
and so the ’squire, little dreaming that he had captured the one
to whose charge could be laid the most of the mischief done within
three miles of the village, was inclined to regard Tom as an innocent
boy, who had got himself into trouble by associating with some of
the young rogues of the village. For this reason he was disposed to
be very easy with him; but when he remembered that Tom had made one
of the number of boys who had taken his horse and wagon without his
permission, it made him angry again.
“I say, come down from there, you young villain!” repeated the
’squire, shaking his cane at the culprit, as if he intended to use it
on him the moment he reached the ground. “Do you hear me?”
“O, yes, I hear you!” drawled Tom; “but I sha’n’t come down till you
send those dogs off.”
Seeing that Tom was resolved not to leave his perch so long as the
dogs remained there, the ’squire called them into the barn and shut
them up, after which he again ordered Tom to come down.
The grand commander obeyed this order very reluctantly, for he had
not yet been able to decide what treatment he would receive from the
’squire. That gentleman had addressed him in the kindest possible
language, and then, almost in the same breath, had called him a young
scoundrel, and had shaken his cane at him, as if impatient to get an
opportunity to lay it over his shoulders. He did not feel altogether
safe; but now, that the dogs were gone, he could offer no excuse for
remaining in the tree; so he slowly descended, and finally stood
before the ’squire, who lifted his lantern and allowed its rays to
fall full in his face.
“You look mean, Tommy,” said he; “don’t you feel so?”
“O, yes, I do,” drawled the grand commander.
The ’squire stood looking at his prisoner for a moment, as if
undecided how to act, and finally continued:
“Go home, and remember to steer clear of bad company in future.”
Tom did not wait for a second bidding, but quickly opened the gate,
and started down the road with all the speed he could command.