As Budd drew near to the farm of Mr. Wright he was greatly tempted to go
in and talk over with him the unfortunate predicament into which his
adventure had brought him; but he was saved that trouble, for as he got
opposite that gentleman's residence he came out and hailed the lad.
"Hello, Budd!" he exclaimed. "You have, then, survived last night's
storm. We are glad to know it, for we had given you up for lost."
His words re-assured Budd's troubled spirit somewhat, for he now knew
that he had been missed, and possibly searched for. Anxious, therefore,
to know just how his absence had been regarded, he went forward to meet
Mr. Wright, saying:
"Yes, I pulled through, though at one time I did not expect to do so.
What did you think had become of me and my team?"
"Oh, when night came and you didn't return home, Benton thought you
probably had got shut onto the lower hummock by the tide, and would be
around all right in a few hours, so he said nothing to any of us about
your prolonged absence; but this morning, when the oxen arrived home
without you or the cart, he was a little frightened, and came directly
over here for me and my man to go with him to look you up. As we went
along down to 'The Hummocks' we made inquiries about you, but could not
ascertain that you had been seen since one o'clock yesterday, when you
were on your downward trip for seaweed. Arriving at 'The Hummocks,' we
carefully searched them from one end to the other, but found no trace of
you or the cart, though we came across a sheltered spot, back of a clump
of trees, where the oxen had evidently stayed all night. The sea-weed
we saw had not been taken, and so we knew that you hadn't got across to
the lower hummock. There was but one inference--that the wind and tide
had carried you out to sea.
"'Benton,' says I, 'the oxen, cart and lad were all taken off the
roadway by some huge billow, and the first thing the lad thought of was
to free the oxen, and they got ashore; but the cart and boy have gone no
one knows where. Just as likely as not they are lying out there under
the tossing waves. I guess we'd better go up the shore a piece,
however, and see if we can find anything of them.' So we went up the
coast as far as the village, but saw nothing of you, and could find no
one that had. Finally we gave up the search and came home. Tell me,
though, how you escaped?"
Budd related in substance the story already familiar to the reader--not,
however, without frequent interruptions from Mr. Wright, who seemed
anxious to know more of the details, and also repeatedly declared it was
the most marvelous escape he ever heard of. At length Mr. Wright seemed
satisfied, and Budd was permitted to ask the question he cared most of
all to ask:
"How did Mr. Benton seem to feel when he came to the conclusion that I
and the cart had been swept out to sea?"
"Well, to tell you the truth," replied Mr. Wright, bluntly, "he seemed
to care a good deal more for the loss of the cart than he did for you.
He danced around there on the beach, cursing what he called your folly,
and telling how much the cart had cost him only last fall. I at last
got tired of his talking, and told him you were of more account than all
the carts that had been made since the world began, and that if he had a
spark of decency about him he would shut his mouth. I suggested, also,
that you would never have been lost if he hadn't set you to drawing
sea-weed on a day that he was old enough and experienced enough to know
it wasn't a safe thing to do in that particular locality, and that I
wasn't sure but he could be held accountable to the law for your death.
That scared him, so he came right off home, and was as dumb as a beast
all the way."
"What do you think he'll do when he finds I'm alive, but the cart is
lost?" asked Budd, a little anxiously, it must be confessed.
"Well, he ought not to say or do anything," answered Mr. Wright, with a
little show of indignation in his tones. "The body of the cart can be
towed back to 'The Hummocks,' and it is possible that the wheels and
under-gear may yet turn up. But even if they are not recovered, what
does the loss amount to compared with your safety? Still I have already
learned that you can never know what John Benton may do, and I guess I
had better be somewhere around when you tell him your story. You go on
over and face the music, and I'll follow along in time to interfere if
there is any serious trouble between you."
Thanking Mr. Wright for his kind offer, Budd, with a much lighter heart
than he had had for twenty-four hours, went on toward home. He went
directly into the house, on arriving there, and almost frightened Mrs.
Benton to death by his sudden and unexpected appearance. He succeeded
in convincing her, however, that it was really he, and that he had
providentially been saved. Nor could he help noticing that she seemed
greatly relieved in mind to find that he was really alive and unharmed;
and taking encouragement from that fact, he went off to the barn, where
he had learned Mr. Benton was.
The farmer was down upon his knees on the threshing-floor mending a
horse-cultivator when the lad entered and said:
"Well, Mr. Benton, I'm back at last, and ready to report for my
prolonged absence."
At his words Mr. Benton leaped to his feet, and for a moment seemed not
to know what to say. It was very evident that he had never expected to
see the boy again. Taking advantage of his embarrassment, Budd went on:
"I'm glad, too, to learn that the oxen reached home unharmed. I did my
best to save them, though I nearly lost my own life doing so."
Before he could say more Mr. Benton broke angrily in upon him:
"But ye lost the cart, ye little rascal, an' I gin twenty-five dollers
fer it at auction only las' fall; an' I'd like to know who's goin' to
pay me fer that?"
"I can, if it is necessary," replied Budd, swelling with indignation;
"but before I do it I shall want some one else's opinion about it other
than your own. Though I may have been a little rash in undertaking to
cross the roadbed while the tide was so high, I am in no other sense to
blame, and I would like to see anyone else do better than I did under
the circumstances;" and Budd rapidly described the trying ordeal through
which he had passed.
"Hum!" remarked Mr. Benton, sneeringly, as the lad finished his story.
"Ye were sca't to death at a little runnin' water. If ye'd stayed in
the cart an' let the oxen alone, they'd have fetched ye an' the cart out
all rite. 'Twas all yer own fault."
Budd's cheeks burned with resentment.
"It was not," he emphatically declared.
"Don't ye tell me I lie!" said Mr. Benton, savagely, picking up one of
the handles of the cultivator that had been detached from the machine
and lay upon the barn-floor near him.
"I am sure the oxen would have drowned had I not freed them from the
cart," answered Budd, firmly, "and any reasonable person would tell you
the same thing."
"Take that, ye young whelp!" cried Mr. Benton, raising the
cultivator-handle and bringing it down with a force sufficient to have
killed the boy had it hit him.
Fortunately for Budd he saw the stick coming, and jumped quickly to one
side. The force of the blow fell upon the barn-floor; but Mr. Benton
immediately recovered himself and rushed down upon the lad. Seeing that
there was no alternative, Budd grappled with him, and then began a
terrible struggle for the mastery. Had the lad possessed his usual
strength he might have come off victor, for he had caught his antagonist
directly under the armpits with a powerful hug, and thus had decidedly
the advantage in his hold. But he was still weak from his trying
experience of the night before, and that more than counterbalanced the
advantage he had secured in position.
Up and down the threshing-floor the contestants went; against stanchion
and post and door were they hurled; over and upon the heterogeneous
articles scattered about the floor they stumbled; finally Budd's foot
struck upon some unseen object that rolled under it, and he fell heavily
upon the floor, with Mr. Benton on top of him. With a shout of triumph
the angry man sat down upon the lad's breast, and with his clinched fist
began to pound him. He had struck but two blows, however, when he was
caught by the collar, dragged unceremoniously off from the prostrate
boy, and thrown with no gentle hand back against the nearest stanchion.
Then the voice of Mr. Wright was heard sternly saying:
"Stand there, you miserable coward; and let me tell you, if you lay the
weight of your finger on that lad again I'll give you the worst
thrashing you ever had in your life!"
At those words, Mr. Benton cowered back against the nearest mow and
remained motionless. Experience had already taught him that he could not
trifle with Peter Wright.
Helping Budd to his feet, Mr. Wright asked:
"Are you hurt? I was delayed longer at the house than I expected, or
this miserable wretch would not have had a chance to lay his hand upon
you. Tell me just what he has done?"
Budd gave a fair account of the contest from beginning to end, and
declared that he was not seriously hurt, though he did not know what
might have happened but for Mr. Wright's opportune arrival.
Mr. Benton sullenly admitted the truth of the boy's story, but whiningly
declared he had not meant to hurt him, but only to give him a wholesome
lesson, so that he wouldn't destroy any more property for him in such a
reckless manner.
"I might believe your statement had I not caught you in the very act of
pounding him," said Mr. Wright, with emphasis; "and surely striking at
him with one of the handles of that cultivator looks almost as though
you meant to kill him. This, too, when he is not your boy, nor bound
out to you, and you had no more right to chastise him than you have to
strike me. I don't know whether the boy has any friends or not, but as
long as I am a member of the Town Council he shall be regarded as a ward
of the town, and over him we shall throw our protection and care. I
suspect you have imposed upon him ever since he has been with you. What
kind of a bargain have you made with him, anyway?"
"I give him ten dollers a munth an' bord for six munths, which, as he
knowed nuthin' 'bout farm in' when he come, is fair pay," explained Mr.
Benton.
"No it is not, and you know it as well as anyone. He has done a man's
work ever since he has been with you; and admitting his ignorance on
some things, fifteen dollars a month is little enough. Does he pay you?"
This last question was addressed to Budd.
"No, sir," he said. "You see, the night I hired out to him he drew up a
paper for me to sign, and in that, though I did not so understand it at
the time, he is to pay me only at the end of the six months. At least
that is his interpretation of the paper."
"Benton, let me see it," demanded Mr. Wright.
With evident reluctance Mr. Benton took the paper from his pocket-book
and handed it to his neighbor.
Mr. Wright read it over carefully; then he deliberately tore it up,
saying:
"The paper is worthless, for there are no witnesses; but even if there
were, it could be set aside, as you have taken an unfair advantage of
the lad. You meant to get rid of paying him anything, and I suspected
it, for it is an old trick of yours."
Budd here explained how Mr. Benton had used the paper at the time he had
asked for his first month's pay.
"Exactly," said Mr. Wright; "it served his purpose then, and would every
time you asked for money until he had got ready to get rid of you. Then
he would have seen to it that you quitted the farm before the six months
were up, and so refused to pay you your wages. Now admit, Benton, that
that was your game."
Mr. Benton, thus appealed to, looked sheepish enough, but would not
admit that it had been his purpose to defraud the lad. He was afraid
that Budd might demand the amount due him and leave at once. This he
did not want the boy to do, for he preferred to have him remain, even
though he should have to pay him full wages. He was hardly prepared,
however, for Mr. Wright's next demand.
"Here, Benton," he said, as the man was about to return his wallet to
his pocket, "before you put that away I want you to pay Budd twenty
dollars."
"But his two months are not up yet," objected Benton.
"Never mind, he has earned it," said Mr. Wright; and as the man, to
Budd's great astonishment, meekly handed over two ten-dollar bills, Mr.
Wright with a twinkle in his eyes added:
"Now put another ten along with the others, Benton, for the assault you
have made upon the lad. If you don't, I'll have you arrested before
morning for assault and battery, and it will cost you twice that amount
at least."
Mr. Benton refused; begged off; offered half the amount; but Mr. Wright
was inexorable, and the miserable man finally handed Budd another
ten-dollar bill.
"Now," said Mr. Wright to Budd, "go to the house and pack up your
things, and get ready to go with me. I don't propose to leave you in
Benton's clutches any longer; there is no knowing what he might do to
you."
And notwithstanding the pleadings and promises of Mr. Benton, Mr. Wright
fifteen minutes later departed, with Budd by his side.