After the brief encounters between the Hedge boy and Jimmie Trescott
and the Hedge boy and Willie Dalzel, the neighborhood which contained
the homes of the boys was, as far as child life is concerned, in a
state resembling anarchy. This was owing to the signal overthrow and
shameful retreat of the boy who had for several years led a certain
little clan by the nose. The adherence of the little community did not
go necessarily to the boy who could whip all the others, but it
certainly could not go to a boy who had run away in a manner that made
his shame patent to the whole world. Willie Dalzel found himself in a
painful position. This tiny tribe which had followed him with such
unwavering faith was now largely engaged in whistling and catcalling
and hooting. He chased a number of them into the sanctity of their
own yards, but from these coigns they continued to ridicule him.
But it must not be supposed that the fickle tribe went over in a body
to the new light. They did nothing of the sort. They occupied
themselves with avenging all which they had endured--gladly enough,
too--for many months. As for the Hedge boy, he maintained a curious
timid reserve, minding his own business with extreme care, and going
to school with that deadly punctuality of which his mother was the
genius. Jimmie Trescott suffered no adverse criticism from his
fellows. He was entitled to be beaten by a boy who had made Willie
Dalzel bellow like a bull-calf and run away. Indeed, he received some
honors. He had confronted a very superior boy and received a bang in
the eye which for a time was the wonder of the children, and he had
not bellowed like a bull-calf. As a matter of fact, he was often
invited to tell how it had felt, and this he did with some pride,
claiming arrogantly that he had been superior to any particular pain.
Early in the episode he and the Hedge boy had patched up a treaty.
Living next door to each other, they could not fail to have each
other often in sight. One afternoon they wandered together in the
strange indefinite diplomacy of boyhood. As they drew close the new
boy suddenly said, "Napple?"
"Yes," said Jimmie, and the new boy bestowed upon him an apple. It was
one of those green-coated winter-apples which lie for many months in
safe and dry places, and can at any time be brought forth for the
persecution of the unwary and inexperienced. An older age would have
fled from this apple, but to the unguided youth of Jimmie Trescott it
was a thing to be possessed and cherished. Wherefore this apple was
the emblem of something more than a truce, despite the fact that it
tasted like wet Indian meal; and Jimmie looked at the Hedge boy out of
one good eye and one bunged eye. The long-drawn animosities of men
have no place in the life of a boy. The boy's mind is flexible; he
readjusts his position with an ease which is derived from the
fact--simply--that he is not yet a man.
But there were other and more important matters. Johnnie Hedge's
exploits had brought him into such prominence among the school-boys
that it was necessary to settle a number of points once and for all.
There was the usual number of boys in the school who were popularly
known to be champions in their various classes. Among these Johnnie
Hedge now had to thread his way, every boy taking it upon himself to
feel anxious that Johnnie's exact position should be soon established.
His fame as a fighter had gone forth to the world, but there were
other boys who had fame as fighters, and the world was extremely
anxious to know where to place the new-comer. Various heroes were
urged to attempt this classification. Usually it was not accounted a
matter of supreme importance, but in this boy life it was essential.
In all cases the heroes were backward enough. It was their followings
who agitated the question. And so Johnnie Hedge was more or less
beset.
He maintained his bashfulness. He backed away from altercation. It was
plain that to bring matters to a point he must be forced into a
quarrel. It was also plain that the proper person for the business was
some boy who could whip Willie Dalzel, and these formidable warriors
were distinctly averse to undertaking the new contract. It is a kind
of a law in boy life that a quiet, decent, peace-loving lad is able to
thrash a wide-mouthed talker. And so it had transpired that by a
peculiar system of elimination most of the real chiefs were quiet,
decent, peace-loving boys, and they had no desire to engage in a fight
with a boy on the sole grounds that it was not known who could whip.
Johnnie Hedge attended his affairs, they attended their affairs, and
around them waged this discussion of relative merit. Jimmie Trescott
took a prominent part in these arguments. He contended that Johnnie
Hedge could thrash any boy in the world. He was certain of it, and to
any one who opposed him he said, "You just get one of those smashes in
the eye, and then you'll see." In the mean time there was a grand and
impressive silence in the direction of Willie Dalzel. He had gathered
remnants of his clan, but the main parts of his sovereignty were
scattered to the winds. He was an enemy.
Owing to the circumspect behavior of the new boy, the commotions on
the school grounds came to nothing. He was often asked, "Kin you lick
him?" And he invariably replied, "I dun'no'." This idea of waging
battle with the entire world appalled him.
A war for complete supremacy of the tribe which had been headed by
Willie Dalzel was fought out in the country of the tribe. It came to
pass that a certain half-dime blood-and-thunder pamphlet had a great
vogue in the tribe at this particular time. This story relates the
experience of a lad who began his career as cabin-boy on a pirate
ship. Throughout the first fifteen chapters he was rope's-ended from
one end of the ship to the other end, and very often he was felled to
the deck by a heavy fist. He lived through enough hardships to have
killed a battalion of Turkish soldiers, but in the end he rose upon
them. Yes, he rose upon them. Hordes of pirates fell before his
intrepid arm, and in the last chapters of the book he is seen jauntily
careering on his own hook as one of the most gallous pirate captains
that ever sailed the seas.
Naturally, when this tale was thoroughly understood by the tribe, they
had to dramatize it, although it was a dramatization that would gain
no royalties for the author. Now it was plain that the urchin who was
cast for the cabin-boy's part would lead a life throughout the first
fifteen chapters which would attract few actors. Willie Dalzel
developed a scheme by which some small lad would play cabin-boy during
this period of misfortune and abuse, and then, when the cabin-boy came
to the part where he slew all his enemies and reached his zenith,
that he, Willie Dalzel, should take the part.
This fugitive and disconnected rendering of a great play opened in
Jimmie Trescott's back garden. The path between the two lines of
gooseberry-bushes was elected unanimously to be the ship. Then Willie
Dalzel insisted that Homer Phelps should be the cabin-boy. Homer tried
the position for a time, and then elected that he would resign in
favor of some other victim. There was no other applicant to succeed
him, whereupon it became necessary to press some boy. Jimmie Trescott
was a great actor, as is well known, but he steadfastly refused to
engage for the part. Ultimately they seized upon little Dan Earl,
whose disposition was so milky and docile that he would do whatever
anybody asked of him. But Dan Earl made the one firm revolt of his
life after trying existence as cabin-boy for some ten minutes. Willie
Dalzel was in despair. Then he suddenly sighted the little
brother of Johnnie Hedge, who had come into the garden, and in a
poor-little-stranger sort of fashion was looking wistfully at the
play. When he was invited to become the cabin-boy he accepted
joyfully, thinking that it was his initiation into the tribe. Then
they proceeded to give him the rope's end and to punch him with a
realism which was not altogether painless. Directly he began to cry
out. They exhorted him not to cry out, not to mind it, but still they
continued to hurt him.
There was a commotion among the gooseberry-bushes, two branches were
swept aside, and Johnnie Hedge walked down upon them. Every boy
stopped in his tracks. Johnnie was boiling with rage.
"Who hurt him?" he said, ferociously. "Did _you_?" He had looked at
Willie Dalzel.
Willie Dalzel began to mumble: "We was on'y playin'. Wasn't nothin'
fer him to cry fer."
The new boy had at his command some big phrases, and he used them. "I
am goin' to whip you within an inch of your life. I am goin' to tan
the hide off'n you." And immediately there was a mixture--an infusion
of two boys which looked as if it had been done by a chemist. The
other children stood back, stricken with horror. But out of this whirl
they presently perceived the figure of Willie Dalzel seated upon the
chest of the Hedge boy.
"Got enough?" asked Willie, hoarsely.
"No," choked out the Hedge boy. Then there was another flapping and
floundering, and finally another calm.
[Illustration: "'WHO HURT HIM?' HE SAID FEROCIOUSLY"]
"Got enough?" asked Willie.
"No," said the Hedge boy. A sort of war-cloud again puzzled the sight
of the observers. Both combatants were breathless, bloodless in their
faces, and very weak.
"Got enough?" said Willie.
"No," said the Hedge boy. The carnage was again renewed. All the
spectators were silent but Johnnie Hedge's little brother, who shrilly
exhorted him to continue the struggle. But it was not plain that the
Hedge boy needed any encouragement, for he was crying bitterly, and it
has been explained that when a boy cried it was a bad time to hope for
peace. He had managed to wriggle over upon his hands and knees. But
Willie Dalzel was tenaciously gripping him from the back, and it
seemed that his strength would spend itself in futility. The bear cub
seemed to have the advantage of the working model of the windmill.
They heaved, uttered strange words, wept, and the sun looked down upon
them with steady, unwinking eye.
Peter Washington came out of the stable and observed this tragedy of
the back garden. He stood transfixed for a moment, and then ran
towards it, shouting: "Hi! What's all dish yere? Hi! Stopper dat,
stopper dat, you two! For lan' sake, what's all dish yere?" He grabbed
the struggling boys and pulled them apart. He was stormy and fine in
his indignation. "For lan' sake! You two kids act like you gwine mad
dogs. Stopper dat!" The whitened, tearful, soiled combatants, their
clothing all awry, glared fiercely at each other as Peter stood
between them, lecturing. They made several futile attempts to
circumvent him and again come to battle. As he fended them off with
his open hands he delivered his reproaches at Jimmie. "I's s'prised at
_you_! I suhtainly is!"
"Why?" said Jimmie. "I 'ain't done nothin'. What have I done?"
"Y-y-you done 'courage dese yere kids ter scrap," said Peter,
virtuously.
"Me?" cried Jimmie. "I 'ain't had nothin' to do with it."
"I raikon you 'ain't," retorted Peter, with heavy sarcasm. "I raikon
you been er-prayin', 'ain't you?" Turning to Willie Dalzel, he said,
"You jest take an' run erlong outer dish yere or I'll jest nachually
take an' damnearkill you." Willie Dalzel went. To the new boy Peter
said: "You look like you had some saince, but I raikon you don't
know no more'n er rabbit. You jest take an' trot erlong off home, an'
don' lemme caitch you round yere er-fightin' or I'll break yer back."
The Hedge boy moved away with dignity, followed by his little brother.
The latter, when he had placed a sufficient distance between himself
and Peter, played his fingers at his nose and called out:
[Illustration: "'NIG-GER-R-R! NIG-GER-R-R!'"]
"Nig-ger-r-r! Nig-ger-r-r!"
Peter Washington's resentment poured out upon Jimmie.
"'Pears like you never would understan' you ain't reg'lar common
trash. You take an' 'sociate with an'body what done come erlong."
"Aw, go on," retorted Jimmie, profanely. "Go soak your head, Pete."
The remaining boys retired to the street, whereupon they perceived
Willie Dalzel in the distance. He ran to them.
"I licked him!" he shouted, exultantly. "I licked him! Didn't I, now?"
From the Whilomville point of view he was entitled to a favorable
answer. They made it. "Yes," they said, "you did."
"I run in," cried Willie, "an' I grabbed 'im, an' afore he knew what
it was I throwed 'im. An' then it was easy." He puffed out his chest
and smiled like an English recruiting-sergeant. "An' now," said he,
suddenly facing Jimmie Trescott, "whose side were you on?"
The question was direct and startling. Jimmie gave back two paces. "He
licked you once," he explained, haltingly.
"He never saw the day when he could lick one side of me. I could lick
him with my left hand tied behind me. Why, I could lick him when I was
asleep." Willie Dalzel was magnificent.
A gate clicked, and Johnnie Hedge was seen to be strolling towards
them.
"You said," he remarked, coldly, "you licked me, didn't you?"
Willie Dalzel stood his ground. "Yes," he said, stoutly.
"Well, you're a liar," said the Hedge boy.
"You're another," retorted Willie.
"No, I ain't, either, but _you're_ a liar."
"You're another," retorted Willie.
"Don't you dare tell _me_ I'm a liar, or I'll smack your mouth for
you," said the Hedge boy.
"Well, I did, didn't I?" barked Willie. "An' whatche goin' to do about
it?"
"I'm goin' to lam you," said the Hedge boy.
He approached to attack warily, and the other boys held their breaths.
Willie Dalzel winced back a pace. "Hol' on a minute," he cried,
raising his palm. "I'm not--"
[Illustration: "ONE APPROACHING FROM BEHIND LAID HOLD OF HIS EAR"]
But the comic windmill was again in motion, and between gasps from his
exertions Johnnie Hedge remarked, "I'll show--you--whether--you
kin--lick me--or not."
The first blows did not reach home on Willie, for he backed away with
expedition, keeping up his futile cry, "Hol' on a minute." Soon enough
a swinging fist landed on his cheek. It did not knock him down, but it
hurt him a little and frightened him a great deal. He suddenly opened
his mouth to an amazing and startling extent, tilted back his head,
and howled, while his eyes, glittering with tears, were fixed upon
this scowling butcher of a Johnnie Hedge. The latter was making slow
and vicious circles, evidently intending to renew the massacre.
But the spectators really had been desolated and shocked by the
terrible thing which had happened to Willie Dalzel. They now cried
out: "No, no; don't hit 'im any more! Don't hit 'im any more!"
Jimmie Trescott, in a panic of bravery, yelled, "We'll all jump on you
if you do."
The Hedge boy paused, at bay. He breathed angrily, and flashed his
glance from lad to lad. They still protested: "No, no; don't hit 'im
any more. Don't hit 'im no more."
"I'll hammer him until he can't stand up," said Johnnie, observing
that they all feared him. "I'll fix him so he won't know hisself, an'
if any of you kids bother with _me_--"
Suddenly he ceased, he trembled, he collapsed. The hand of one
approaching from behind had laid hold upon his ear, and it was the
hand of one whom he knew.
The other lads heard a loud, iron-filing voice say, "Caught ye at it
again, ye brat, ye." They saw a dreadful woman with gray hair, with a
sharp red nose, with bare arms, with spectacles of such magnifying
quality that her eyes shone through them like two fierce white moons.
She was Johnnie Hedge's mother. Still holding Johnnie by the ear, she
swung out swiftly and dexterously, and succeeded in boxing the ears of
two boys before the crowd regained its presence of mind and stampeded.
Yes, the war for supremacy was over, and the question was never again
disputed. The supreme power was Mrs. Hedge.