THE BATTLE IN THE BOAT.
Lon Trustleton may be excused for being astonished at the very
remarkable conduct of Wade Brooks, who had never before lifted a finger
against his persecutors. All of a sudden he had struck a blow which
upset his foe as though he had been a baby. But Lon was not badly
damaged, though he saw a numerous body of stars. He picked himself up;
and, as he had plenty of pluck, he rushed upon the object of his wrath,
intending to take the stick from him, and use it over his head.
But Wade was not asleep; and he was prepared for his assailant. Before
Lon could get hold of him or the stick, another blow fell on his head,
and he staggered back towards the cuddy. The second blow wilted him;
and, though he was very angry, he found it necessary to be prudent.
He stood by the door of the cuddy, with his fists doubled up, and his
chest heaving with the fury of his rage, regarding his enemy with
mingled astonishment and indignation. The noise of the encounter had
waked Matt; and he crawled out of the cuddy to ascertain the cause of
the tempest.
If Lon had been surprised to see Wade Brooks in the boat, Matt was
still more so. He could not realize how it was possible for him to be
there, for he had seen him go up to his garret to bed the night before.
Both Lon and himself had slept in the cuddy, and certainly the boy of
all work had not been in the standing-room when he retired. A little
reflection led him to the conclusion that Wade could not have been in
the boat during the night. He thought he could explain it: a party had
set out to pursue them, and Wade had followed the boat down the river
on the shore, and had come on board of her in the morning. The water
was very shallow where the boat was anchored, and he could have waded
off to her.
“Wade Brooks here!” exclaimed he, when he found a tongue.
“Yes; and he has hit me twice over the head with that stick,” replied
Lon, still eying the enemy with a savage gaze.
“How came he here? when did he come into the boat?” asked Matt, though
he had settled all these questions in his own mind before he said a
word.
“He says he went to sleep in the boat last night, and we sailed off
with him,” replied Lon. “Is there any kind of a club in the cuddy,
Matt? We are in for a fight; and I will break that fellow’s head, as I
told you I would.”
“We are going to divide up the broken heads more than they used to be,”
said Wade coolly; for he had made up his mind for this thing, and he
was ready for whatever might come.
Matt looked for a stick; but the stock of fish-pole in the boat had
given out when Wade was supplied. Nothing could be found but the pieces
of the door Lon had stove in the night before. These were all small,
and no club was at hand. But Lon picked up the splinters, and began to
hurl them at his foe. He cast them with all his might; and, if any of
them had hit Wade in the head, they would have hurt him.
“That will do of that,” said Wade, gathering up his stick again. “Don’t
you fling another one of them at me!”
“Yes, I will! I’ll break your head before I’ve done with you!” replied
Lon; and he picked up what was left of the door, intending to overwhelm
his antagonist in one crushing blow.
But Wade did not wait for him to get the door in position: he rushed
upon him, and began to belabor him over the shoulders with the stick.
Lon howled with rage and pain, and vainly struggled to get hold of the
stick or his assailant. But Wade was too much for him. As for Matt, he
made for the cuddy as soon as Wade began to press his companion. After
a brief contest, Lon went down under the force of the blows that were
rained upon him.
“When you want any more, all you got to do is to say so,” said the
conqueror. “I didn’t begin this fight; but I’m going to see the end of
it.”
“You don’t fight fair,” gasped Lon, using the common argument of the
defeated bully.
“I fight any way I can. I don’t believe in fighting at all, and I never
did any such thing before in my life,” replied Wade, still holding his
weapon ready for use. “You’ve always hit me just when you had a mind
to, and I have always stood it; but I’m not going to stand it any more.
When you hit me, I’m going to hit back again, whatever comes of it. I
won’t hurt anybody that lets me alone.”
“Why didn’t you stand by me, Matt Swikes?” demanded Lon, as Matt
crawled out of the cuddy again; which he did not do till Wade had
assumed a more peaceable aspect.
“I wasn’t going to be hit over the head with that stick,” replied Matt,
seating himself by the door of the cuddy.
“You’re a coward, Matt Swikes, as you always were; and I have half
a mind to hit you over the head,” added Lon, disgusted with his
companion, and entirely unable to account for his defeat in a battle
with a fellow whom he had always regarded as an insignificant foe.
“It’s no use to call names: they won’t hurt anybody,” growled Matt, who
could not see why his crony should turn against him. “You’ve licked
Wade Brooks times enough to know how to do it; and I don’t think it is
fair for two of us to set on one fellow.”
“Not fair, you ninny!” exclaimed Lon, slapping the face of his
companion in crime.
“What are you hitting me for? I haven’t touched you. You needn’t lick
me because you can’t lick Wade,” whined Matt. “I’ve got about enough of
this thing.”
“I’ll bet they are looking for you at home about this time,” interposed
Wade; “and the best thing you can do is to go back before you’ve made
the matter any worse.”
“I’ve half a mind to do it,” replied Matt, who was so much injured in
his feeling by the blow of Lon, that he could not help crying. “I’m not
going off to New York with Lon, to be kicked and slapped as if I wasn’t
nobody.”
“Shut up, Matt!” said Lon sharply. “What do you mean by telling him
what we are going to do?”
“I’m not going to do any thing, if I’m to be treated in this way.”
“Keep still,” continued Lon in a gentler tone. “I was mad, and I didn’t
mean any thing. Don’t mind it, Matt, and I won’t do it again.”
It was a great deal for Lon to say any thing in the shape of an
apology; and the insulted Matt was appeased at once. He wanted to go
to New York; and he did not like the idea of going home to take the
consequences of setting the barn on fire. Lon seated himself opposite
his companion in crime, as though he had concluded that it was best to
suspend hostilities, at least for the present.
“I didn’t sleep much last night, and I was out of temper when I got
up,” said Lon, who was willing to make peace, even with Wade Brooks,
rather than give up the expedition, as he was afraid that Matt might be
persuaded to do; and he had all the money, so it was not possible to go
without him.
“I don’t see what made you turn on me,” replied Matt, wiping the tears
from his eyes.
“I didn’t mean to do it. The sight of Wade Brooks here in the boat with
us made me mad. But perhaps it is all for the best. Wade knows how to
sail a boat better than I do; and he will do that for us.”
“No, I won’t,” replied Wade squarely.
“How came you in the boat, Wade?” asked Matt, as it occurred to him
that this matter had not yet been cleared up.
“I came on board of her to sleep after the fire,” replied Wade, who was
willing to tell all he knew about almost any subject.
“What did you want to sleep in the boat for? Why couldn’t you sleep in
your own bed in the house?”
“There was a good reason for it.”
Wade considered a moment; and then he concluded to tell the whole story.
“What was the reason?” asked Matt.
“I’ll tell you all I know about it; and I know more than you think I
do,” replied Wade, looking Matt sharp in the eye. “You lied to your
mother when you told her I stole the peaches; and she sent me to bed
without any supper. I was so confounded hungry that I could not go to
sleep; and I got up, and went down to the buttery to get something to
eat. I was in there when you got up in that chair, and took the money
out of that closet over the mantle-piece.”
“What money?” asked Matt, turning pale, and trembling with terror.
“I guess you know what money as well as I do. The money that was in the
closet. You stole it, and then cleared out.”
“Do you mean to say that I stole any money, Wade Brooks?” demanded
Matt, making a lame attempt to bluster, which was a failure.
“That’s just what I mean to say, and I do say it. It’s no use to deny
it.”
“Let him go on,” added Lon, in a low tone.
“I deny that I took any money from any closet,” said Matt; “but go on
with your story.”
“I guess I could prove that you did it, right here, if I had a mind
to,” added Wade.
He was tempted to do so, and to take the money from his pocket as
evidence of what he asserted; but just then it came into his mind,
that, if Matt knew he had it, he would say he stole it; and, if he went
back to Midhampton, the possession of the two hundred dollars might be
evidence that he did steal it. If he told Mrs. Swikes that her son took
the wallet, she would not believe him. Wade concluded not to say just
yet that he had the plunder.
“I don’t see what all this has to do with sleeping in the boat.”
“That’s what I was going to tell you when you broke in on me. After you
took the money, your father came out of the room. Your mother said she
heard somebody in the house, and told your father to see if the money
in the closet was all right. He felt in the closet, and found that it
was gone. In that house they always lay every thing to me, and your
mother said I must have taken it.”
“If any money was taken, I guess you did,” interposed Matt; and, if he
was caught, he could lay it to him with a full knowledge of the case.
“You know better, Matt Swikes; but no matter now. Your father went up
to the garret, and found I was not there. Then they were sure I took
the money. I’d been licked once that day for what I didn’t do, and I
couldn’t stand it again. Just then the fire broke out, and your father
and mother went out of the house; and I hooked it out, and after a
while went down to the boat to sleep. I meant to call on Mr. Garlick
this morning, and tell him what I knew about matters and things in
general. That’s why I slept in the boat.”