TOMMY IS IN DANGER
“Oh, that’s a dandy!” exclaimed Tommy. “A regular dandy! A few more
like that, and I’ll have enough for supper!”
He had pulled up his line, after having fished for about an hour,
and, dangling from the hook, was a fine, fat chub, a very delicious
white fish.
“No, you don’t!” exclaimed the lad as the fish dropped off the hook
to the grass and tried to flop toward the water. “I can’t lose you
that way!” And he made a grab for his prize. “You’re the biggest one
yet. Wait a minute and I’ll have you in the water again, but you
can’t swim away. Sorry, but it’s got to be,” and he passed a string
through the gills of the fish, and then, fastening one end of the
cord to a stone, Tommy let the big fish and a few other smaller ones
he had previously caught swim about in a little pool.
Tommy once more baited his hook and tossed it into the water. But the
catching of the big chub must have frightened the others, for there
were no more bites for some time.
“Guess this hole is fished out,” remarked Tommy. “I’m going to try
the lower one. If I get one more big fellow, I’ll quit.”
Winding up his line, he took his string of fish and tramped along the
edge of the creek to another fishing hole. There, after putting his
fish in the water to keep them alive and fresh, he sat down on the
bank, baited the hook with a green grasshopper instead of a worm and
awaited results.
They were not long in coming, for in less than two minutes he had
caught a perch about as large as his big chub. And then, instead of
doing as he had said he would, go home, after another fair catch, he
threw in his line again.
“Fishing is good here. I might as well stay a little longer,” he
said. “If I get two more fat ones——”
He stopped suddenly, for he felt a tug on his line, and he pulled in
sharply. To his surprise, a black, heavy body, with short, wriggling
legs, arose from the water.
“Oh, I don’t want you!” exclaimed the lad as he saw that he had
caught a mud turtle. “Now I’ll have a hard time getting my hook out!”
And indeed he did have, for the turtle had all but swallowed the
barb. But finally Tommy managed to cut it out, without hurting the
turtle much. Then he tossed the turtle back into the stream, baited
up afresh and waited patiently for another bite.
It came with a rush about ten minutes later, and proved to be one of
the biggest perches Tommy had ever caught.
“That’s a dandy!” he exclaimed. “I’m glad I came here. I guess I
won’t fish for any more. I’ve got enough. Oh, no, I’ll try for one
more, and if I don’t get it by the time the sun is even with the top
of the oak tree, I’ll go home. I wish some of the fellows would come
along. It’s getting lonesome. They must be out of school by this
time.”
As Tommy went to put his latest catch on the string that held his
other fish, he saw a splashing in a pool of water not far away. The
sun shone on the silver sides of a big fish, as with its tail it
slapped the water.
“That’s queer, a big fish so near shore!” said Tommy to himself, and,
after he had made his own prizes secure, he walked over to see what
had caused the commotion.
“Why, somebody else has been fishing here!” he exclaimed as he saw
two or three fish in a little pool of water. They were strung on a
string, as were his own. “They’ve been fishing and they’ve forgotten
to take ’em away,” he went on. “Nice big ones, too,” he said. “I
wonder whose they are?”
He stooped over to examine the fish, lifting them from the water by
the string. As he did so the cord suddenly broke, and, like flashes
of silver, the beauties dropped into the water and swam away.
“Well, now I _have_ done it!” exclaimed Tommy. “If the fellow who
owns these fish comes along, I’m in——”
“Here! What are you doing there?” suddenly asked a rough voice, and,
looking behind him, Tommy saw Jakie Norton, standing and looking at
him with anger in his eyes.
“What are you doing here?” repeated Jakie.
“Fishing, of course,” answered Tommy, shortly, for he did not like
the way in which the bully talked to him.
“Fishing, eh? And in my place, too. Now you get out of here!”
“I didn’t know this was your special place,” replied Tommy, sturdily,
“and I don’t think you’ve got any more rights here than I have.
Anyhow, I’m done fishing, so I’m going.”
“What have you got there?” suddenly asked Jakie, catching sight of
the string in Tommy’s hand—the string that was now empty of fish.
“What are you doing with my string?” demanded the bully.
“Is—is this your string?” asked Tommy, and he did not know what to
say next. “I—I found it here,” he went on slowly, “and I—er——”
“Where are the fish that were on it?” demanded Jakie, angrily.
“They—well, I guess you didn’t have ’em fastened good!” replied our
hero. “Anyhow, when I lifted ’em up they slipped off, and—well, they
got away.”
“But what right did you have to lift ’em up?” screamed Jakie.
“I wanted to see whose they were.”
“They were mine, that’s whose they were, and I believe you let them
go on purpose!” exclaimed the bully.
“No, I didn’t; honestly,” replied Tommy. “I just lifted ’em up, and
they slipped off the string. It broke, and the end came untied.”
“Oh, it did, eh? Well, maybe that’s so, and maybe it isn’t. Anyhow,
I’m going to take your fish to make things even, and we’ll see
how you’ll like that!” And before Tommy could stop him, Jakie had
scrambled down to the edge of the creek, and had grabbed up Tommy’s
string of fish from the pool between the rocks.
“Huh! You’ve got some good-sized ones,” Jakie said, half admiringly.
“’Most as good as mine were. Well, I’ll take ’em home. They’ll come
in handy for supper.”
“They’re bigger than the fish you had!” cried Tommy, “and there’s
more of ’em. You only had about three. Maybe it was my fault that
your fish got away, but it was an accident. I’ll give you three of
mine to make up for it, but don’t you dare take my whole string!”
“Ha! Don’t you say ‘dare’ to me!” commanded Jakie. “I’ll do as I
please. Get out of my way!” he exclaimed, roughly, as he shoved Tommy
to one side, and hurried up the bank, taking our hero’s string of
fish with him.
“Give me back those fish!” cried Tommy.
“Not to-day,” sneered the bully, and, as Tommy made a grab for them,
Jakie hit him on the chest.
Poor Tommy staggered back. He was not a boy in the habit of fighting,
for his parents, he knew, did not like him to use his fists. Yet he
did not want to be imposed upon. He felt that Jakie could get the
best of him in a fight; still, somehow, Tommy was not afraid.
“Are you going to take my fish?” Tommy asked, quietly, for he thought
Jakie might, after all, be only playing a joke.
“Of course I am,” answered the older boy, sneeringly.
“Then I’m going to take them away from you,” retorted Tommy. “Look
out!”
He was about to make a spring for his antagonist, when he heard
someone approaching through the bushes. Both boys half turned their
heads to see who it was. It might be a friend of either of them.
Jakie was on the alert to run away, for he realized that if one of
Tommy’s friends came along the two boys would more than be a match
for him.
And then the figure that was coming through the bushes came into
view. At the sight of another lad, who quickly advanced, Jakie called
out:
“Hello, Sam! Glad you came. This lad here let my string of fish go,
and when I want to take his string, he says I can’t.”
“It was an accident!” explained Tommy, who had heard about the other
boy—a crony of Jakie’s, and as cruel and mean as the bully himself.
“It was an accident,” insisted Tommy. “I was only looking at his
fish, but I’m willing to give him as many back as he had.”
“Oh, take ’em all, Jakie,” advised Sam Belton, the newcomer, with
a short laugh. “He doesn’t need fish. We’ll divide ’em between us,
Jakie.”
“No, you won’t!” cried Tommy, driven to anger, and he made a move
toward the two boys.
“Say, I believe he wants to fight us!” exclaimed Sam. “Come on,
Jakie, and we’ll throw him in the brook. It’ll do him good.”
Tommy paused. He could swim fairly well, but he knew it would be hard
work with his clothes on. Besides, he did not want to get wet, as his
suit was a good one, and the creek was deep at that point.
“That’s right, we’ll duck him!” agreed Jakie. “I owe him something
for being so fresh about that bat.”
“It was my bat!” cried Tommy, “and those are my fish, and——”
He was going to add something about his shoes being hidden at the
swimming hole, but thought better of it.
“Grab him, and toss him in!” suddenly called Sam, and he and his
crony made a move for Tommy at the same time.
Now, Tommy was not a coward, but, he hastily reflected, he would be
no match for two big boys. It was hardly worth while to be tossed in
the creek for the sake of a few fish, and, even if they did throw
him in, he would not get the fish after all. Besides, there was the
danger of drowning.
“I guess I’ll have to run for it, though I hate to,” decided Tommy.
Now, I hope none of my readers will think less of him for running
away. There are times when it is better to run than to fight,
especially if you are certain why you run. Tommy did not mind a few
hard knocks, and he might even have tackled Jakie or Sam alone. But
the two together were too much for him, and then, too, he did not
want to make his mother worry by coming home wet. So he decided to
run, though it might look cowardly.
Holding his fishing pole firmly, he made a dash for an open place
in the bushes. His two enemies saw his plan at once, and made leaps
toward him.
“He’s trying to skip!” cried Sam.
“Yes, grab him!” added Jakie.
But Tommy’s baseball training served him in good stead, and he was
soon ahead of his pursuers, who came on crashing through the bushes
after him.
“Coward! Coward!” they yelled, tauntingly, but Tommy was no coward,
and they knew it.
“We’ll catch you, and when we do we’ll duck you twice for running!”
yelled Sam.
“You haven’t caught me yet,” reflected Tommy, with a laugh. Somehow,
he did not mind the loss of his fish very much, for Jakie still had
his string of prizes.
Tommy was now running along the bank of the creek, through a grassy
meadow. He could not see his pursuers behind him, but he could hear
them, for he had taken a short cut through the bushes which Joie
Grubb had shown him one day, and this gave him a good start.
Yet he realized that if he did not soon get away the two big boys
would catch him, for they had longer legs than he had, and were much
stronger.
“But if I can get far enough away from the creek they can’t throw me
in unless they carry me back,” reasoned Tommy, “and if they do carry
me, and the fish, they’re going to have their own troubles.”
So on he raced, and he was just thinking that he was well ahead of
the two bullies, when he heard their voices close behind him, though
still he could not see them.
“We’ll have him in another minute!” exclaimed Sam.
“Yes. I’d like to teach him a lesson. The idea of a new boy like him
coming to town and starting a ball team. He’s got too much nerve!”
said Jakie. “Can you see him?”
“No,” answered Sam.
Neither could our hero get a glimpse of the boys who were after him.
He knew that a screen of bushes hid them from him. Somehow or other,
they had gotten ahead of him, and had missed him.
“Oh, if I could only give them the slip!” he exclaimed.
He looked about for a hiding place, and, just ahead of him, he saw
an old grist mill, that had not been used in several years. The boys
often played in it, and it had many “bunks,” or secret hiding places.
“There’s where I’ll go!” exclaimed Tommy to himself. “They’ll never
get me there, and I can get in before they find out that they’re
ahead of me, instead of behind me.”
It only took a few seconds to work his way through the bushes until
he stood within the dim old mill. He could hear the water from the
race splashing down, but the big wheel, which he could see through
a break in the wall, was still. It was an old-fashioned under-shot
wheel, covered with green moss, and Tommy, who always liked
machinery, went closer to look at it.
As he stood near it, wondering how fast it moved when in working
order, he heard voices in the old mill.
“I shouldn’t wonder but what he slipped in here!” he heard Sam say.
The bullies had come back.
“Yes, just as likely as not,” said Jakie. “Well, there is a good
place to duck him here—right in the mill pond.”
“They found out that I’d given them the slip!” thought Tommy,
quickly, “and they’re back after me. Where can I hide?”
He looked about, half in fun at the idea of giving his enemies the
slip, and half in fear lest they catch him and duck him. There seemed
to be no place where he would be safe from their eyes. He looked
about in vain, and was about to run up a pair of rickety stairs,
though he was sure the boys would hear him. He could catch their
footsteps coming nearer and nearer.
“The big mill wheel!” suddenly exclaimed Tommy. “If I could climb up
on that I’d be out of sight. And it ought to be as easy as going up
stairs.”
In fact, the wheel, with its big wooden pockets, or buckets, was not
a hard place up which to scramble, as it was low down.
In another moment Tommy had made a spring for it, and soon he reached
the top.
He was not a moment too soon, either, for just as he crouched down
on the upper rim of the wheel he heard the voices more plainly, and
he realized that his pursuers had entered the main room of the mill,
from which he had just made his escape.
“He isn’t here,” he heard Sam say.
“No. I guess he got away after all. Say, let’s stay here and have
some fun. Did you ever make the mill wheel go around?”
“No; how do you do it?” asked Sam.
“Why, you just raise the wooden gate over by the mill race. That lets
the water from the pond come down the channel, and the wheel turns
over. It’s sport. I did it one day, and the wheel went around in
great shape. Let’s do it.”
“All right,” agreed Sam. “What are you going to do with your fish?”
“I’ll lay ’em down. It’s kind of hard to raise the gate, and let the
water in. It’ll take two of us, I guess, for it’s rusty. But it’s
fun.”
Tommy, lying there on the big water wheel, heard, and, for the
moment, a cold chill went over him. They were going to set in motion
the very wheel on which he was hiding! He would be carried over with
it—down into the whirling, green water, and he might be drowned, or
crushed. He wanted to cry out, to tell them he was there—to ask them
not to turn on the water—but he could not seem to speak.
He could hear them go laughing from the main room of the mill,
laughing between themselves at the fun they were going to have. They
had forgotten about Tommy now.
“I must get down! I must get away!” thought the young baseball
captain.
For a moment it seemed as if he could not move, and then, as he
thought of what might happen, he gave a spring, and tried to slide
down over the outer edge of the wheel to the mill floor.
To his surprise and terror, he could move only a few inches. One of
his feet had caught in a corner of one of the buckets, and he was
held fast there.
“I’m caught! caught!” gasped Tommy.
Vainly he struggled to free himself. Then, from somewhere in another
part of the mill, he heard the splashing of water, and it seemed to
him that the wheel on which he was held fast was slowly moving.
“Oh, what shall I do?” gasped poor Tommy. “How can I get out of this?”
Louder splashed the water, and the big wheel moved more quickly now,
while Tommy could hear the laughter of the two boys, as they opened
the water gate wider and wider.