"I don't believe it was Pud who set fire to Mr. Brown's house,"
exclaimed Harry, as they walked along.
"Don't you s'pose I know him when I see him? I have good reason to!"
retorted the crippled veteran.
"What makes you think it wasn't he, Harry?" asked Mr. Martin.
"Because he was going on a sleigh ride with Socker Gales and some of the
other boys and girls," returned Harry.
"But evidently he didn't go, for he was at the fire after it was burning
fiercely," asserted the venerable man. Nobody knew the cause for the
bully's remaining at home.
Stung deeply by the words Nettie had uttered when he had come up behind
them when the two girls were walking home, Snooks had asked his father
for some money that he might join his friends in driving to the Lake
House at Cardell for the dance, only to be gruffly refused.
Angry at his father, his friends and himself, the bully had eaten his
supper in sullen hastiness, and then left the house by the back way for
the purpose of watching his friends depart on the sleigh ride. The route
he took, however, led him past the house of the crippled veteran whom he
hated so deeply, and the sight of it suggested to him that he might work
off his ill-humor by playing some trick on old Jed.
Entering the shed, he lighted a match and was looking about the shop,
when he had heard the crippled veteran opening the door of the kitchen,
and, thinking only that he must escape, the boy had thrown the match on
the floor and rushed to leave the shed. Instead of going out, the match
had fallen into a pile of shavings, quickly igniting them, and the
flames found ready food in the pieces of wood, oil-soaked leather and
other odds and ends with which the shop was littered, and in a few
moments had gained such headway that they were irresistible.
Such was the story which Mr. Martin and the bully's father extorted from
the boy after they had questioned him closely in the presence of the
crippled veteran for a half hour.
Though the fire was purely an accident, it was so evident that Pud had
gone to his arch-enemy's house bent on mischief, that the butcher and
Mr. Martin were at a loss how to proceed in the matter of meting out
punishment; and as they sat in silence, pondering over the confession,
it was Jed himself who solved the problem.
"Well, I'm glad you didn't come to the house with the intention of
burning it, Pud," he exclaimed. "You and I know I hadn't occasion for
being fond of you, but I'd hate to think there was any boy, or man
either for that matter, in Rivertown who was so down on me that he would
want to burn the roof over my head.
"Now, I've carried a bit of insurance on the place and I'm not going to
live very much longer, so if----"
"Jed, I ain't liked you no better than my boy," interrupted the butcher,
"but you've been so decent, and not asked me to punish Pud or send him
away where they'll take care of him, that if it's agreeable to you I'll
give you two hundred and fifty dollars. Pud, go get my check book."
"No need to bother about that to-night, Snooks. You can give me the
money to-morrow," declared Jed. And with this understanding Mr. Martin
and the crippled veteran took their departure.
Once they were outside, the village patriarch seized the hand of the
crippled veteran and shook it heartily.
"Jed, you certainly are a man!" he exclaimed, feelingly. "But where will
you go to live, now?"
Ere the old man could answer, Harry and Paul, who had been waiting
outside the house, joined them just in time to hear Mr. Martin ask this
question.
"If you'd care to, I should like to have you come around to our house!"
exclaimed Harry. "I know Aunt Mary would like it, and then as you're an
old friend of dad's he'd want me to ask you."
"That would be just the thing," asserted Mr. Martin, "and I don't doubt
but that you can make arrangements to live at her house with Mary as
long as you care to stay in Rivertown. I'll go and explain things."
Surprised at first, after the incidents of the evening had been made
clear to her, Mrs. Watson readily agreed to board the veteran as long as
he cared to remain; and after bidding them all a cordial good-night, Mr.
Martin and Paul went to their home.
Many were the glances that were cast at the bully and Harry when they
appeared at the high school the following day, but no one had the
temerity to speak to them about the incident of the fire, although there
were many whispered conversations held in which the sympathy was
entirely with the new student.
As Paul had said, the only lesson of importance the freshman class were
called upon to attend was the Latin, of which the crusty old Prof. Isaac
Plummer, often called "Grouch" by the students, was instructor.
As the boys and girls filed into the classroom, the professor, who was a
little squat man, with a scrubby beard, so thin that one of the girls
had said it was really an individual beard, glanced at them over the
tops of his spectacles.
"There's no use asking any of you, I suppose, whether you have your
lesson or not," he snapped, in a high-pitched, jerky voice. "The fire
last night would have been a sufficient excuse, I suppose, even if it
wasn't for the fact that you never do have your lesson anyway."
Then, his eyes resting on Harry, he exclaimed:
"What are you doing in here?"
"I came to recite, sir."
"Listen, the rest of you. Here's a boy who has come to recite. Do you,
by any chance, happen to be a member of the Rivertown High School, or
have you just dropped in like manna sent from Heaven to show the rest of
these young idiots that it is possible for a child to know its Latin
lesson? What's your name?"
"Harry Watson," stammered the boy, his face scarlet at the brusqueness
of the Latin instructor's greeting.
"Where do you come from?"
"Lawrenceburgh, sir."
"Do you like Latin?"
"Yes, sir."
"Then that explains it. I don't wonder you left Lawrenceburgh. No man
who cared for Latin would ever live there, let alone learn it in any of
their schools. How far have you gone in Caesar?"
"Through the first two books."
"Indeed! I didn't suppose anyone ever got beyond the grammar in
Lawrenceburgh. Suppose you start in at the beginning of the second book,
which is our lesson to-day, and read as far as you can."
During this tirade many were the nudges in which the boys and girls
indulged themselves; and Elmer and Pud had reveled in it, gleefully,
believing that they were about to witness the discomfiture of the boy
for whom they had conceived such a dislike.
But Harry was fond of Latin and was also well grounded in his
fundamentals. Opening his book at the part indicated, he began to
translate, and Prof. Plummer allowed him to finish two sections before
he began to ask him questions on construction. But though he tried his
best to confuse the boy, Harry did not get rattled, and acquitted
himself creditably.
"Watson, I want you to come up here," the instructor exclaimed, when he
had finished. "Let me shake hands with you. I'm glad to know there is
one scholar in Rivertown High School who has even the faintest
conception of the Latin fundamentals."
Blushing even more furiously than he had while he was being baited,
Harry stood in his place uncertain whether the professor meant what he
said or not, and hoping in his heart that he did not.
"Ah, you hesitate, I see," grinned Prof. Plummer, sardonically. "After
you know me better you will know I never mean what I say. Never to my
knowledge have I willingly had one of the pupils of Rivertown High
School approach any nearer than you are now. Kindly remember that."
And after calling upon one after another of the members of the class
only to have them answer "Not prepared," old Grouch dismissed the class
in disgust.