CHAPTER I._Tim and Tip

TIM AND TIP

HARPER’S YOUNG PEOPLE’S SERIES

New Large-type Edition

TOBY TYLER James Otis

MR. STUBBS’S BROTHER James Otis

TIM AND TIP James Otis

RAISING THE “PEARL” James Otis

ADVENTURES OF BUFFALO BILL W. F. Cody

DIDDIE, DUMPS AND TOT Mrs. L. C. Pyrnelle

MUSIC AND MUSICIANS Lucy C. Lillie

THE CRUISE OF THE CANOE CLUB W. L. Alden

THE CRUISE OF THE “GHOST” W. L. Alden

MORAL PIRATES W. L. Alden

A NEW ROBINSON CRUSOE W. L. Alden

PRINCE LAZYBONES Mrs. W. J. Hays

THE FLAMINGO FEATHER Kirk Munroe

DERRICK STERLING Kirk Munroe

CHRYSTAL, JACK & CO. Kirk Munroe

WAKULLA Kirk Munroe

THE ICE QUEEN Ernest Ingersoll

THE RED MUSTANG W. O. Stoddard

THE TALKING LEAVES W. O. Stoddard

TWO ARROWS W. O. Stoddard

HARPER & BROTHERS

PUBLISHERS

[Illustration: TIM SHOWS THE MARKS OF CAPTAIN BABBIGE’S WHIP]

TIM AND TIP

The Adventures of a Boy

and a Dog

JAMES OTIS

Author of “MR. STUBBS’S BROTHER,”

“TOBY TYLER,” Etc.

ILLUSTRATED

[Illustration]

HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS

NEW YORK AND LONDON

TIM AND TIP

Printed in the U. S. A.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGE

I. TIM’S FLIGHT 1

II. SAM, THE FAT BOY 10

III. TIP’S INTRODUCTION TO MRS. SIMPSON 25

IV. TIM’S START IN LIFE 41

V. LIFE ON BOARD THE “PRIDE OF THE WAVE” 58

VI. TIM MAKES AN ACQUAINTANCE 74

VII. TIP’S HURRIED LANDING 95

VIII. MINCHIN’S ISLAND 110

IX. THE FAMOUS BEAR-HUNT 129

X. BILL THOMPSON’S TENT 153

XI. ONE COOK SPOILS THE BROTH 168

XII. TIP’S DANGER 185

XIII. IN CONCLUSION 202

ILLUSTRATIONS

Tim Shows the Marks of Captain Babbige’s Whip _Frontispiece_

FACING PAGE

“Peppermint or Lemon?” 20

The Small Passenger with the Large Valise 75

Making Ready to Embark 136

TIM AND TIP

OR,

The Adventures of a Boy and a Dog

CHAPTER I.

TIM’S FLIGHT.

“Strayed.――A boy from the home of the subscriber; and any one

returning him will be suitably rewarded. Said boy is about

eleven years old, has short, light hair, a turned-up nose, and

face very much tanned. When last seen he had on a suit of blue

clothes considerably faded and worn, and had with him a yellow

dog, with a long body, short legs, and a short tail. The boy

answers to the name of Tim, and the dog to that of Tip. Any

information regarding the runaway will be liberally paid for.

Address Captain Rufus Babbige, in care of this office.”

“There, Tim,” said the man who had been reading the advertisement aloud

from the columns of a country newspaper to a very small boy, with

large, dark eyes, and an exceedingly dirty face, who was listening

intently, “you see that Rufe Babbige don’t intend to let you get away

as easy as you thought, for he’s willing to pay something for any news

of you, though I’ll be bound he won’t part with very much money.”

“But he always said he wished I’d have sense enough to die,” replied

the boy, trying to choke down the sob of terror which would rise in his

throat at the idea of being thus advertised for as though he were a

thief; “an’ it don’t seem to me that there’s been a day but what he or

Aunt Betsey have given me a whippin’ since my mother died. Look here!”

As he spoke the boy pushed the ragged coat sleeves up from his thin

arms, showing long discolorations which had evidently been made by a

whip-lash.

“It’s all over me just like that, an’ I don’t see what he wants Tip an’

me back for, ’cause he’s always said he wished he was rid of us.”

“It’s a shame to treat a boy that always behaved himself as well as you

did like that,” said the proprietor of the country store into which the

runaway had entered to purchase a couple of crackers, “an’ I don’t see

what the folks up in Selman were thinking of to let him abuse you so. I

don’t approve of boys running away, but in your case I think the only

fault is that you didn’t run sooner.”

“But now that he’s put it in the paper he’ll be sure to catch me, for

I’m only six miles from Selman;” and the big tears began to roll down

the boy’s cheeks, marking their course by the clean lines they left on

the dirty face.

“Anybody that knows him wouldn’t any more think of sending you back

to him than they would of cutting your hand off,” said the man, as he

shook his fist savagely in the direction Captain Babbige was supposed

to be.

“But what does he want us for, when he’s always wanted to get rid of

us?” persisted the boy, stooping down to caress a very queer-looking

dog, whose body seemed to have been stretched out, and whose legs

looked as if they had been worn down by much running.

“I reckon I can tell you why he wants you, Tim, and when you get older

it’ll do you some good to know it. He’s your uncle, an’ your legal

guardian, an’ I’ve been told by them that knows that he’s got quite a

sum of money belonging to you, which would all be his if you should

die. Some day when you are of age you come back here and claim it; but

don’t you let him get hold of you again now.”

“Indeed I won’t,” replied the boy, trembling at the thought of the

fate which would be his if he should be so unlucky as to fall into the

captain’s clutches again.

“Run away from here so far that he can’t find you, and when you get a

place where you can go to work be as good a boy as I’ve always known

you to be, and you’ll come out of this trouble by being a good, honest

man. Here’s a couple of dollars for you, and I only wish it was in my

power to take you home with me and keep you. But Rufe Babbige would

soon break that up, and the best thing you can do is to trudge off as

fast as possible.”

The boy tried to thank the kind-hearted shopkeeper, but the tears were

coming so fast, and the big sob in his throat had got so far up toward

his mouth, that he could not utter a word.

Just then a customer entered the store, and he hurried away at once,

closely followed by the odd-looking dog, who displayed, in his way,

quite as much affection for the boy as the boy did for him.

Down through the one street of the little village, out on to the

country road, the two walked as if they were already foot-sore and

weary; and when at last they came to where the road wound along through

the woods Tim sat down on a rock to rest, while Tip huddled up close

beside him.

“It’s kinder too bad to be called such names in the papers, ain’t it,

Tip?” said the boy, speaking for the first time since they had left the

store, “an’ I think he ought to be ’shamed of hisself to talk so about

you. It ain’t your fault if your legs is short an’ your tail gone;

you’re worth more’n all the dogs in this world, an’ you’re all that

I’ve got to love me, an’ we’ll never go back to let Captain Babbige

beat us any more, will we, Tip?”

Just then the dog, which had been chewing some blades of grass, got one

in his nose, a mishap which caused him to sneeze and shake his head

vigorously; while Tim, who firmly believed that Tip understood all that

was said to him, looked upon this as a token that the dog agreed to

what he had said, and he continued, earnestly:

“I know just as well as you do, Tip, that it wasn’t right for us to run

away, but how could we help it? They kept tellin’ us we was in the way

an’ they wished we’d die, and everybody that was kind to us told us

we’d better do just what we have done. Now we’re off in the big, wide

world all by ourselves, Tip, an’ whether the cap’en catches us or not,

you’ll love me just as much as you always have, won’t you, for you’re

all I’ve got that cares for me?”

The dog was still busy trying to settle the question about the grass

in his nose, and after that was decided in his favor he looked up at

his young master and barked several times, as if expressing his opinion

about something, which the boy interpreted as advice.

“Well, I s’pose you’re right, Tip――we had ought to go along, for if we

don’t we sha’n’t even find a barn to sleep in, as we did last night.”

As he spoke Tim arose wearily from his hard seat, his legs stiff from

long walking, and trudged along, while Tip followed as closely at his

heels as it was possible for him to get.

It was nearly sunset, and as he walked on it seemed as if he was

getting farther into the woods, instead of coming out at some place

where he could find shelter for the night.

“Looks kinder lonesome, don’t it, Tip?” and Tim choked back a sob as he

spoke. “I don’t want to sleep out here in the woods if I can help it;

but it wouldn’t be half so bad if one of us was alone, would it?”

In this fashion, keeping up a sort of a conversation――if it could be

called such where one did all the talking and the other wagged his

short stump of a tail――the two journeyed on until it was almost too

dark to distinguish objects a short distance ahead.

Only once since the store-keeper had given him the two dollars had Tim

thought of what he had said regarding Captain Babbige’s having money

of his, and then he put it out of his mind as an impossibility, for

surely, he thought, he would not have scolded so about what he and his

dog ate if Tim had had any property of his own.

“I guess we shall have to sleep in the woods, Tip,” said Tim,

disconsolately, as the trees appeared to be less thick together, but

yet no signs of a house; “but it won’t be much worse than what Aunt

Betsey calls a bed good enough for boys like me.”

Just at that instant Tim was frightened out of nearly all his senses,

and Tip started on a barking match that threatened to shake his poor

apology of a tail from his thin body, by hearing a shrill voice cry out:

“Look here, feller, where are you goin’ this time of night?”