THE FALLING CHIMNEY
For a moment Dan did not know what to do. He was too surprised to
speak, and, though he had been caught, almost like a burglar, he knew
he morally had the right to do what he had done.
“So it was you, makin’ th’ noise that woke us up, was it, Dan Hardy?”
asked Mr. Savage, advancing into the room. “Ye’re goin’ t’ th’ bad
fast. Now ye’ll have t’ deliver up whatever ye stole from my house, an’
then I’ll send fer th’ constables.”
“I haven’t stolen anything from your house, Mr. Savage!”
“Then what did ye come sneakin’ in here fer, like a thief in th’ night?”
“I came after my books, which you refused to let me have. Now that I
have them I am going to leave.”
“Ye be, eh? Wa’al, I guess I’ll have suthin’ t’ say about that. Likely
story! Come here t’ git a few wuthless books! More like ye come here
t’ git th’ money ye heard I drawed out th’ bank!”
“I didn’t know you drew any money out of the bank.”
“Ye’re a thief, Dan Hardy, an’ ye know it!” exclaimed Mrs. Savage.
“Catch him, Peter. I’ll hold him while ye’ go over t’ Mr. Lane’s an’
telephone fer th’ constables.”
“I tell you I only came here for my books, and you have no right to
molest me,” declared Dan.
“We’ll see how much of that th’ judge will believe,” sneered Mr.
Savage. “Ye’d better come along with me, an’ make no trouble.”
“I’ll not come with you.”
Dan formed a sudden resolution. With a quick motion he threw his books
from the window. Then he turned and made for it himself. It did not
take long to get out on the limb, and, a few seconds later he was
climbing down to the ground.
“Catch him! Stop him! Hold him!” cried Mrs. Savage. “Why don’t ye hold
him, Peter?”
“Hold him, Susan? Might as well try t’ hold an eel after it’s got away
from ye. Can’t ye see he’s gone?”
“Thieves! Robbers!” cried the woman. “Dan Hardy tried to rob th’
house!”
Her cries awakened the hired men, but, by the time they had slipped
on their trousers and come out, Dan was far away. He had grabbed up
his books and run across the fields to the road. Then he walked to Mr.
Harrison’s house.
“Well, I got my books,” said the boy as he undressed and went to bed,
“but I suppose there’ll be a row over it.”
The blacksmith came back early the next day, and Dan told him all about
it.
“I am a little sorry you did that,” said Mr. Harrison, “yet I don’t
know as I blame you. Mr. Savage was a mean man to retain the books,
and, though you were not proceeding strictly according to law, you
were morally in the right. I think whatever violation of law there
was, is so slight that it need cause you no worry. Still I will go and
see Squire Perkfell, as Mr. Savage will probably try to have a warrant
issued for your arrest.”
Nor was the old soldier mistaken in his surmise. When he got to the
Squire’s office he found the angry farmer there.
“Ah, good morning,” remarked the Justice pleasantly, when he saw the
blacksmith. It was quite a different greeting than the one he had given
when Mr. Harrison wanted to represent Dan at the trial. But then
matters were different now. Mr. Harrison was quite wealthy, according
to the Hayden standard, and the justice thought perhaps he might be
given some legal work to do for the rich blacksmith.
“Good morning,” returned Mr. Harrison. “I came in to see you about a
certain matter, when you have finished with Mr. Savage.”
“Wa’al, my business has got t’ be attended to, an’ I don’t care who
knows it,” said the farmer. “I want a warrant fer th’ arrest of that
Hardy boy.”
“Then my business is the same as yours,” said the blacksmith. “We will
discuss it together.”
“No, we won’t discuss nothin’. I want him arrested, that’s all.”
“Yes, yes. Of course,” said the Squire. “Certainly. I will attend to
it. Now what do you charge him with Mr. Savage?”
The truth was Squire Perkfell was between two fires. He wanted to
please the blacksmith, because he knew he had money, and he wanted to
keep on friendly terms with Mr. Savage, who was also wealthy and a
power in the community, and who was to be reckoned with on election day.
“I charge him with bein’ a burglar, an’ with comin’ inter my house at
midnight t’ rob an’ steal,” declared Mr. Savage.
“Perhaps we can simplify matters” interposed Mr. Harrison. “Did he
break into your house, Mr. Savage?”
“No, he come in a winder that was left open.”
“Then I think I am right, Squire, in saying there can be no charge of
breaking entered against Dan.”
“No, no. You’re right. If he didn’t break any doors or windows to get
in, he can’t be charged with breaking,” agreed the Justice. “To arrest
a burglar, charged with breaking, entering and stealing, he must be
guilty of all three things.”
“So, then, Dan broke nothing,” resumed the blacksmith. “Did he steal
anything, Mr. Savage?”
“He took some books.”
“Whose were they?”
“Wa’al, his own, I s’pose, but I was holdin’ em.”
“Which you had no legal right to do. Then Dan did not steal anything.”
“Guess you’re right,” agreed the Justice. “You can’t properly charge
him with stealing, Mr. Savage.”
“Wa’al, he entered, didn’t he?” asked the farmer, satisfied that he
could have Dan arrested on this charge.
“He entered, through a window, which was not fastened, and took
property that belonged to him, which you unlawfully retained,” said
Mr. Harrison. “I admit there might have been a technical violation of
the law on Dan’s part, but there was also a violation on the part of
Mr. Savage. If he insists on having a warrant for Dan on the charge of
entering, I shall ask for one, on Dan’s behalf, for the arrest of Mr.
Savage.”
“On what charge?” asked the Justice nervously, for he did not want to
have to arrest such an influential and rich man as Mr. Savage.
“On the charge of unlawfully converting to his own use the property of
another,” answered the blacksmith. “Now you can take your choice, Mr.
Savage. Either drop this silly charge, or I will make one against you.”
“I--I think Mr. Harrison is right,” said Squire Perkfell, nervously
rubbing his hands together.
“Humph! I’ll git even with him, an’ Dan too,” growled the farmer as
he left the office of the Justice. He had decided that discretion was
the better part of valor, and he was not sure but that he had acted
unlawfully, as indeed he had, in keeping Dan’s books.
“Well, it’s all settled,” said the blacksmith to Dan, when he came back
home. “Now you can rest easy.”
“No, not exactly,” answered Dan. “I have still to find the rascals who
robbed the doctor’s house.”
“Perhaps we may in time. Don’t worry.”
But Dan did, though it did no good. The weeks passed, and there was no
clue to those who had burglarized the doctor’s house. Of course Dan
had, with the aid of Mr. Harrison, made a search in the woods, where he
had seen the mysterious men, but nothing was found. Either it was well
hidden, or the robbers, if such they were, had taken their booty away
again.
The summer began to wane. Mr. Harrison had not yet found a purchaser
for his smithy, and he continued to work there, as the machine shop he
had started to build was not ready for operations. It might seem queer
for a man with ten thousand dollars to be working at the forge, like
a common blacksmith, but Mr. Harrison liked the exercise, and he knew
if he stopped, the people in the neighborhood would have to go a long
distance to get any work of that nature done. Besides he had some
special machinery to put in his new shop, and part of it he could build
better himself than he could hire done.
So he and Dan continued to live together, working in the smithy from
day to day. The boy was acquiring valuable information, and he had
plenty of time to study.
One day, Dan and his friend were working on a large iron frame that
needed welding. It was so large that Mr. Harrison had to stand inside
it, while it rested on the anvil. Dan stood in front to steady it.
It had just been taken from the fire, where one part was heated white
hot, for welding, and Mr. Harrison was raining blows on it with a small
sledge hammer when Dan, looking up, uttered an exclamation of fear.
The big brick chimney, in which the forge was constructed was cracking,
for it was quite old. As Dan watched he saw it start to topple over,
right on Mr. Harrison, who could not get out of the way because he was
inside the frame, which was like a big cage.
“Look out!” cried Dan. “The chimney is falling!”
Nearer and nearer to Mr. Harrison, who was trying in vain to extricate
himself from the framework, came the heavy mass of bricks and mortar.
He was in danger of being crushed to death.
Then Dan did a risky thing. Dropping his end of the frame he ran around
in behind the anvil, and, exerting all his strength, he raised the mass
of iron rods, holding the frame up so Mr. Harrison could crawl to one
side.
“Quick! Come out!” cried the boy.
The blacksmith saw his opportunity and made a rapid move to safety.
Then Dan leaped out of the way, and not an instant too soon, for, a
second later the bricks toppled down, burying the anvil and frame out
of sight.
[Illustration: “QUICK--COME OUT!” CRIED THE BOY.--_Page 156._]