Transcriber's Note
The cover image was created by the transcriber and is placed in the public domain.
Obvious typographical errors have been silently corrected. Variations in hyphenation have been standardised but all other spelling and punctuation remains unchanged.
Anak Astonishes the Farmer.
ATLANTIC SERIES.
THE
Young Circus Rider;
OR,
THE MYSTERY OF ROBERT RUDD.
BY
HORATIO ALGER, Jr.
PHILADELPHIA
HENRY T. COATES & CO.
FAMOUS ALGER BOOKS.
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Copyright, 1883, by Porter & Coates.
PREFACE.
As the Pacific Series, just completed, is devoted to stories of life and adventure on the Pacific coast, the Atlantic Series, of which the Young Circus Rider is the initial volume, will comprise stories located nearer home. The author will feel at liberty, however, should the exigencies of the plot require it, to change the scene temporarily to other parts of the continent.
The fascinations which the circus has always exercised over the minds of young people is so well known, that the author has felt justified in selecting the hero of the present story from that class of public performers who appeal so powerfully to the imagination of his young readers. In order to prepare himself for his task, he has made personal acquaintance with more than one hero of the ring, and has sought to furnish an inside view of the life which he describes. He hopes that the result may prove acceptable to the juvenile public in whose behalf he is always glad to labor.
Horatio Alger, Jr.
March 13, 1883.
CONTENTS
| CHAPTER. | PAGE | |
| I. | Anak, the Norwegian Giant | [7] |
| II. | Anak's Exploits | [15] |
| III. | The Wrath of Mr. Tarbox | [24] |
| IV. | Mr. Tarbox Invokes the Majesty of the Law | [32] |
| V. | Tarbox and the Constable go to the Circus | [41] |
| VI. | Tarbox is Defeated | [50] |
| VII. | The Evening Entertainment | [59] |
| VIII. | A Scheming Nephew | [68] |
| IX. | Two Boys on a Tramp | [77] |
| X. | Trapped | [85] |
| XI. | Dismay at the Home of Tarbox | [94] |
| XII. | The Canvas Man | [102] |
| XIII. | Catching a Thief | [110] |
| XIV. | Chestnutwood | [115] |
| XV. | A Compact | [120] |
| XVI. | The Canvas Man | [127] |
| XVII. | An Athletic Contest | [136] |
| XVIII. | The Canvas Man finds a Bonanza | [144] |
| XIX. | A Farce and a Tragedy | [153] |
| XX. | The Amateur Detectives | [162] |
| XXI. | Catching a Burglar | [171] |
| XXII. | Robert Rudd Leaves the Circus | [180] |
| XXIII. | What the Letter Contained | [188] |
| XXIV. | Robert Meets his Employer | [193] |
| XXV. | At Niagara Falls | [198] |
| XXVI. | A Victim of Treachery | [207] |
| XXVII. | Robert finds Himself in a Tight Place | [216] |
| XXVIII. | Robert Subdues a Horse | [225] |
| XXIX. | An Unpleasant Acquaintance | [234] |
| XXX. | The Tree of Refuge | [241] |
| XXXI. | Hercules—the Strong Man | [247] |
| XXXII. | Fitzgerald's Disappointment | [253] |
| XXXIII. | Fitzgerald Sees an Apparition | [262] |
| XXXIV. | The Mystery of Robert Rudd is Solved | [266] |
THE
STAR OF THE CIRCUS.
CHAPTER I.
ANAK, THE NORWEGIAN GIANT.
About three o'clock in the afternoon an oddly assorted couple walked through the main street in the manufacturing town of Crampton. One was a man of herculean proportions, fully seven and a half feet high, but with a good-natured face that relieved the fears which he might otherwise have inspired. The other was a boy of fifteen, tall and slender, with a dark complexion and bright eyes. He found some difficulty in keeping pace with his tall companion.
"You're going too fast for me, Anak," he said at last. "Remember, my legs are not quite so long as yours."
The giant laughed—a deep, resonant and not unmusical laugh, and answered: "I'm always forgetting that, Robert. I suppose I ought to walk alone, for I can't find any one to match me."
"See how people are looking at us," continued the boy, glancing quickly back. "There's an army of small boys following us."
"Do you want to see me scatter them?" asked Anak.
"Yes; it will be fun."
The burly giant turned, and assuming a terrific frown, ran back, his long limbs carrying him on at remarkable speed. Instantly the boys, with loud shouts of dismay, broke ranks and scattered in every direction, not daring even to look over their shoulders.
Anak came back, laughing heartily.
"I wonder what the boys thought I would do to them," he said. "The fact is, I like young people, and am always ready to take their parts; but then, they don't know that. Did I look very alarming just now?"
"Yes," answered Robert; "if I hadn't known you, I might have run too."
"I don't know about that, Robert. No one can accuse you of want of courage."
Robert smiled, and his dark face looked very attractive when he smiled.
"I am not afraid of horses," he said.
"No; you are the most daring bareback rider I ever knew."
"I don't think I ever was afraid of horses," continued the boy, thoughtfully. "I can't remember the time when I was not used to them."
"How long have you been a bareback rider?" asked Anak.
"I think I commenced when I was nine years old."
"And now you are—how old?"
"Fifteen."
"You never told me how you came to join a circus, Robert."
"I was wandering about the country—tramping—without a friend, and without any means of living, when a circus man offered to train me as a rider. Anything was better than tramping, and I accepted—"
"And now you are
ROBERT RUDD,
THE BOY WONDER!
The Best Bareback Rider in the World."
"That's what the circus bills say," replied Robert, smiling. "Now let me introduce you. Gentlemen and ladies," said the boy, waving his hand, as if addressing an audience, "I have the pleasure of introducing to you,
ANAK!
THE CELEBRATED NORWEGIAN GIANT!Eight feet in height, and weighing four hundred and twenty pounds, who has been exhibited before all the crowned heads of Europe, and is generally acknowledged to be the tallest giant in the world!"
"Good for you, Robert!" said the giant, good naturedly. "You've got it by heart, my boy."
"I want to ask you a favor, Anak," said Robert, slyly: "Speak a little Norwegian; I want to know how it sounds."
"Oh go away with you! I don't know any more Norwegian than you do."
"How is that? You don't mean to say you've forgotten your native language?"
"I never knew a bit of Norwegian, Rob, my boy; and as for native language, I'm minded to tell you a secret."
"Go ahead!"
"I was born in Tipperary, and they didn't use to speak Norwegian there when I was a boy."
"Then why do they call you a Norwegian?"
"It sounds better than Irish, you see."
"But haven't you ever been caught? Didn't you ever have a Norwegian come up and try to talk to you in his own language?"
"Yes," said Anak, laughing, "and mighty embarrassing it was, too."
"What did you do?"
"Faith, I opened upon him in old Irish. You ought to have seen the fellow stare. I shrugged my shoulders, and said I, 'You speak bad Norwegian,' and the crowd believed me. He slunk away, and that's the way I got over that."
"What's your real name, Anak?"
Anak looked about him guardedly, and finding that no one was within earshot, he answered, "Tom O'Connor, but don't give me away, Robert!"
"I don't believe I could, Anak," said the boy, laughing.
Anak joined in the laugh, and Robert continued, "When did you get your growth? I mean, how old were you?"
"I kept on growing till I was twenty-one. When I was sixteen I was six feet high, and everybody thought I was through, but I kept on till I reached seven and a half feet, and then was tall enough to show."
"How about that eight feet, Anak?"
"You must ask the manager. They always make giants taller than they are. It's equal all round, and nobody's hurt. And now, Robert, I'm going to ask you a question."
"What is it, Anak?"
"Do you expect always to be in this business?"
"Bareback riding, you mean? No, I hope not," said the boy, gravely.
"I hope not, too. It'll do for a time, and there isn't anything else open to a big overgrown fellow like me, but you are a smart boy, and there are plenty of chances for you to get into something else. You never told me about when you were a little boy; can you remember as far back?"
"Not much," answered the boy, soberly. "Sometimes I seem to remember a fine house and grounds, and it seems as if I were riding on a beautiful lawn, on a pony, with a servant at my side. But it is provoking that I can't remember any more, and the whole seems dim, and melts away, and it may be all imagination, after all."
"It may be all true, Robert. Was it in America, do you think, now?"
"That is more than I can tell. It may be all fancy."
"Have you any relations living?"
"Not that I know of," said the boy sadly; "I wish I had. I feel very lonely sometimes, and there doesn't seem much to live for."
"You've plenty of friends, Rob—all of us like you."
"Yes, you all treat me well."
"You have always been a favorite in the circus, my lad."
"Yes; I never had anything to complain of except that my trainer was sometimes a little rough. But it isn't as if I had somebody belonging to me—a brother, or a cousin, at the least. Have you any relations, Anak?"
"Yes, I've got any number of cousins, and my old mother's living, too, bless her heart."
"In Norway?" asked Robert, slyly.
"Oh go away! they know no more about Norway than you do. It is in Tipperary they all live. I've forty or fifty cousins at the least, and I'll give you a half a dozen with pleasure, if it'll do you any good."
"I don't think they would answer my purpose, Anak," answered the boy, smiling.
"Well, as I was sayin', Robert, I wouldn't stay with the circus always if I was you."
"What else is there for me to do?"
"Wait and see. You're young yet."
"My education is very poor, you know, Anak."
"Can't you read and write?"
"Yes, but not much more. I should like to go to school for two years."
"Sure you look like a gentleman, and you'll be one some day, I shouldn't wonder."
"Look there, Anak!" said the boy, suddenly; "there's a man who appears to be in trouble."
As he spoke he pointed to the driver of a team, which seemed to have settled in the mud, for it was now spring-time, and the roads were in a bad condition. The driver was shouting frantically to the horse, who was making desperate efforts to pull the wagon out of the mire, but without success.
CHAPTER II.
ANAK'S EXPLOITS.
"What's the matter, my friend?" inquired Anak, addressing the driver of the team.
The latter stared in amazement at the gigantic querist, but his trouble overcame his surprise, and he answered, "You can see for yourself. My wagon's mired and my horse is too lazy to draw it out."
"Indeed the poor beast is unable," said Anak.
"He can do it if he wants to," said the driver, angrily. "I'll see if I can't persuade him," and he flourished a whip in a menacing manner.
"Hold there!" said Anak. "We'll see if we can't help him."
So saying he went round to the back of the wagon, and, seizing it in his powerful hands, cried, "Now start your horse!"
The driver did so, and, with Anak's powerful help, the horse had small difficulty in extricating the wagon from the mire.
"There, that's better than beating your horse," said Anak, stepping once more to the side of the road.
"You're powerful strong, sir," said the teamster, respectfully, surveying the colossal proportions of Anak.
"I ought to be, oughtn't I?" returned Anak.
"Excuse me, sir, but do you belong to the circus?"
"Yes, you'll find me there if you take the trouble to visit it."
"Are you the Norwegian giant?"
"That's what they call me," answered Anak, smiling.
"Well, at any rate, I'm obliged to you for helping me."
"And so is the horse, I'm thinking."
"Yes; you are as strong as a horse yourself," said the teamster, admiringly.
"That is convenient sometimes, my friend."
The teamster drove on, and Anak and Robert also continued their walk.
"The manager doesn't like to have me show myself for nothing," said Anak, "but I can't stay under canvas all day to oblige him. My health requires me to walk out in the open air."
"Does it require you to walk so fast, Anak?"
"Excuse me, Robert; I'm always forgetting."
"The manager has less trouble in keeping Madame Leonora in," said Robert.
"That's true; she's too fat to walk much. She weighs more than I do, though she's two feet shorter."
They had drawn out of the village, and got into the comparatively open country among the farms. They were talking of one subject and another, when suddenly their attention was drawn to a small boy who was running towards them in terror and dismay.
"What's the matter?" asked Robert, his sympathy quickly aroused; "are you hurt?"
"No," answered the boy, slackening his speed, "but Mr. Tarbox is going to whip Jimmy."
"And who is Jimmy?"
"Jimmy's my brother."
"And what have you been doing?"
"We were only cutting across his lot, when he came out and chased us, swearin' awful. I got away, but he's got poor Jimmy, and he's going to horsewhip him," and the poor boy burst into terrified tears.
Robert afterwards learned that this Tarbox was a rough, tyrannical old farmer, noted for his bad temper, who appeared to cherish a special antipathy to boys. There was a footpath around his field, which considerably lessened the distance to the main road for some of his neighbors, but in the ugliness of his disposition he forbade it to be used. Men he did not venture to attack, but woe betide the boy who ventured to enter his enclosure.
"Where is this Tarbox and your brother?" asked Anak.
The boy pointed to a house and lot a little farther on.
"We wouldn't have gone across-lots," he explained, "but mother was taken sick, and we got frightened and wanted to call the doctor as soon as we could, and we thought we might do it for once."
"Did you tell this man Tarbox the reason you went across his field?" asked Anak.
"Yes, but he said it was no excuse, and I am afraid he'll kill poor Jimmy."
The little boy fell to weeping again.
"There they are!" said Robert.
In a field, just off the road, was a strong, brutal-looking man deliberately engaged in tying a boy of twelve to a tree. The whip in his hand showed what he intended to do afterwards. He might indeed have dispensed with tying the boy, for he was quite unable to escape, but he did it on the same principle that a cat plays with a mouse, to increase the terror of the poor victim.
His back was turned, so that he did not see the approach of Anak and the two boys.
This was what the new-comer heard as they approached:
"Oh, please don't whip me, Mr. Tarbox," pleaded the poor boy, in an agony of apprehension.
"Then why did you come across my lot, you little rascal?"
"I was in a hurry to call the doctor, because mother was sick. Indeed that was the only reason."
"I've got nothing to do with your sick mother," said Tarbox. "That was no reason for coming across my field."
"I didn't hurt anything, sir; I just walked along the path."
"I'll larn you not to try it again, Jim Benton; I'm goin' to give you as good a floggin' as ever you had. You can just tell the other boys how it feels and mebbe they'll want to try it."
"Oh, please don't whip me! I ought to be goin' for a doctor. My mother may die."
"She can die for all I care," said the brutal Tarbox. "Now I've got you tied, and I'm goin' to give your jacket a good warmin'."
He raised the whip and was about to bring it down upon the shrinking limbs of the poor boy, when he was startled by a deep, stern voice only a rod behind him, "Don't touch that boy!"
Tarbox looked back and saw Anak striding towards him. He had not seen him before, but he knew who he was, for he had seen the posters of the circus. Though rather startled, he was not disposed to yield his victim easily.
"Get out of my field!" he snarled; "you're trespassin'."
"I can't help it," said Anak; "I'm not going to see a brute like you whip a poor child while I am here to defend him."
"You ain't, hey?" snarled Tarbox. "I've got the law on my side, and I'm goin' to do it. Just you clear out, you two, or I'll have the law on you."
He raised the whip, but did not get a chance to use it. Anak reached him in one stride, snatched the whip from his hand and flung it into the road; then, grasping the stalwart farmer by the collar, shook him till his teeth chattered, with as much ease as Tarbox himself would have handled the twelve-year-old boy.
"Perhaps you'll change your opinion now?" he said.
Tarbox was astonished and cowed. There wasn't a man in town that could cope with him, yet he was but a child in the hands of the Norwegian giant.
"I'll have the law of you!" he shrieked in furious anger.
"So you may, but first you've got to untie that boy."
"I won't!"
"You won't, hey?"
Again Anak seized him, and shook him vigorously in spite of his struggles.
When he let him go, Tarbox, with an evil look, called, "Here, Bruiser! come here, sir."
A large, wicked-looking bull-dog bounded over a stone wall, and rushed forward evidently bent on mischief.
"Sik him!" he exclaimed, pointing to Anak.
"Is your dog's life insured?" asked Anak, calmly.
He waited till the dog was within a foot or two, aiming to attack his leg; then he raised one of his powerful feet, aimed a tremendous kick at Bruiser, and the dog was stretched senseless at his feet.
"It's your own fault," said Anak, turning to the farmer; "your dog is probably dead. Now, untie that boy."
Tarbox by this time seemed thoroughly frightened. With dark, sullen looks he obeyed the giant, and Jimmy, overjoyed to recover his freedom, stretched his arms and legs.
"Now, go for the doctor as fast as you please," said Anak.
The two brothers quickly started on their errand, and Anak, turning to Tarbox, said, "You miserable brute, if I ever hear of your attempting to abuse a poor boy again, I'll travel five hundred miles if necessary to kick you as I have kicked your dog. Go back to your house or I may do it now."
Tarbox needed no second order. He was rather afraid that he too might feel the weight of the giant's boot, and he hurried away. Safe in his own yard, he shouted, "I'll have you punished for this, you big rascal!"
Anak only laughed.
"We may as well be going back, Robert," he said; "I don't want to get into any more fights."
CHAPTER III.
THE WRATH OF MR. TARBOX.
Colman's Grand Combined Circus and Menagerie, with its line of showy chariots, its collection of animals from all parts of the habitable world, and its general array of wonders, had pitched its tent in a large otherwise unoccupied lot in the eastern part of the town.
An immense tent, capable of containing six thousand spectators, had been erected, and presented a picturesque appearance. All was hurry and bustle in and around the circus tent. Crowds of staring urchins were gathered as near as possible, on the chance of seeing something of the wonders hidden by the canvas. I am afraid more boys played truant on that day than had done so for many previous weeks, for to the mind of the average school-boy there is nothing more seductive than a travelling show.
Anak and Robert had been missed, for it was not often they absented themselves so long, and it is possible that the heart of the manager might have been stirred by apprehensions lest two of his greatest attractions should have taken French leave and forsaken him on the eve of battle.
When they were seen approaching, a boy smaller than Robert ran to meet them.
This was Charlie Davis, also a bareback rider, but a year younger than Robert, who performed an act with him.
"Where have you been, you two?" he asked. "I thought you'd run away?"
"If Anak ran away, it would take a fast runner to catch him," said Robert. "No, we've been taking a walk."
"Why didn't you tell me? I should like to have gone, too."
"You're not much of a walker, you know, Charlie. Still you might have helped us. We got into a fight."
"Where? Who did you fight with?" asked Charlie, his curiosity aroused.
"With a brutal old farmer, who had tied a boy to a tree, and was going to flog him. You ought to have seen how Anak tamed him down. He just took him by the collar, and shook him as a cat would a rat."
"What did he do?"
"He called his dog, a big, ugly brute, named Bruiser. Bruiser's funeral will take place to-morrow."
"I wish I had been with you," said Charlie, in a tone of disappointment.
"If you had, I should have let you do the fighting," said Anak. "Well, Charlie, how are things getting on?"
"Oh, everything is about ready. They've laid out the ring, and are putting up the seats. The bearded lady's sick, and says she shan't appear if she doesn't feel better. But they can spare her better than they could us."
"I don't know," said Robert, smiling. "At any rate, we have harder work to do than she, though we may not get as much money."
"And it isn't as good fun, either," remarked Charlie.
"That's true. Well, let us go in and see how things are going on."
Charlie Davis was a year younger and considerably smaller than Robert, but his line of business was the same, and the two rode together well. Young performers are always popular, and the two boys always received their share of applause. Charlie had a more lively temperament than Robert, and being a little fellow was a general favorite among the other performers.
Leaving the circus for a time we will go back to Mr. Nathan Tarbox, who had been so signally defeated in his plans of revenge upon his young victim by Anak. As he entered the house he was met by Mrs. Tarbox, who from the window had witnessed with dismay the conflict between her husband and the Norwegian giant.
She was a tall, bony woman, not usually demonstrative, but she rushed up to her husband on this occasion in a tremor of excitement and threw her arms round his neck.
"Oh, Nathan!" she exclaimed, "I thought that monster would kill you. I shook like a leaf when I saw you in his grasp."
"Quit your fooling," returned the affectionate husband. "Why didn't you come out and help me?"
"How could I—a delicate woman like me?" asked Mrs. Tarbox, reproachfully.
"I suppose you wouldn't have minded seeing me killed before your eyes," retorted Nathan with sarcasm; "you wasn't too delicate for that. I dare say you'd like to be a widow."
"How can you talk so, Nathan? You hurt my feelings. Do be reasonable, now. What could I do?"
"What could you do? I'll tell you what you could do. You could have taken the frying-pan and laid it over his head. That's what you ought to have done. Between us we could have managed the big brute."
"You know, Nathan, I couldn't have reached his head. Who is he? I never saw such a monster before in all my born days."
"He's the Norwegian giant at the circus. If he hadn't been a giant I could have managed him. There isn't a man in town but I can handle."
"Of course there isn't. What made him touch you?"
"It's all the fault of them bad Graham children that tramped across my fields when I'd told 'em not to. I was goin' to give the biggest one a lesson with a horsewhip, when that overgrown ruffian broke in and seized me. I wish I had him tied to a tree just for five minutes," said Tarbox, walking the room in his fury. "Big as he is I'd lash him till he bellowed for mercy."
"That would be nice, Nathan dear," said Mrs. Tarbox, complacently.
"Nice, Mrs. Tarbox!" exclaimed her husband, turning the vials of his anger upon her; "we might have done it, too, if you had had the courage to come out and stand by your husband. You could have seized him from behind, while I gave him a lashing. Instead of that you were standing at the window smirking in your foolish way, I've no doubt. A pretty wife you are!"
"O Nathan, I am sure you don't know what you are saying. You forget I am a weak, delicate woman."
Though Mrs. Tarbox was tall, strong, gaunt and bony, she was accustomed to consider herself delicate. It was fortunate that she was not so, and that she was not particularly sensitive, or the brutal temper of her husband would have worn upon her more than it did. She was fortunate in being a silly woman. It saved her much mental suffering.
"You weak and delicate!" retorted her husband, contemptuously. "So is a ostrich."
"Where's Bruiser? Why didn't you call him?"
Mrs. Tarbox had not witnessed the untimely fate of that amiable quadruped.
At the mention of Bruiser her husband's wrath again overflowed.
"He's dead!" he shouted. "That brute killed him."
"How did he do it?" asked his wife, not without curiosity, for she knew the bull-dog's strength.
"Kicked him to death! That's how he did it."
"He must be very strong," murmured Mrs. Tarbox. "Don't you think we ought to erect a gravestone over Bruiser," she continued, "just as I did over that sweet canary? A piece of board would do, you know."
"Perhaps you'd like to write some lines for it," remarked Mr. Tarbox, sarcastically.
"I was thinking, Nathan, we could put something like this:
HERE LIES BRUISER!
Cut off in the flower of his youth—
Gone to meet old Towser!"
and Mrs. Tarbox looked up to her husband for his approval.
"Mrs. Tarbox," he said, "I believe you are the greatest fool in town. Have you got any common sense?"
"Nathan, you shouldn't talk so to your wife," she answered, placidly. "I only spoke for the best; of course, if you think of anything you like better, I don't care."
"I have no time to think of epitaphs on dogs, Mrs. Tarbox. I've got something more important to do. Do you know what I am going to do, Mrs. Tarbox?"
"Change your shirt, perhaps," said his wife; "you forgot to do it this morning."
Mr. Tarbox came near swearing.
"No," said he, "I'm going to have that brute arrested for assault and battery, for trespassing on my grounds and killing my dog. That's what I'm going to do."
"So I would, Nathan. I wonder you didn't think of it before."
"Then get supper ready, and I'll go round and get a warrant for his arrest as quick as I get through."
CHAPTER IV.
MR. TARBOX INVOKES THE MAJESTY OF THE LAW.
Ezekiel Price, justice of the peace, generally known as Squire Price, was just rising from his supper table when the one maid of all work, Bridget, entered and said: "Mr. Price, old Tarbox is at the door and wishes to see you."
"Old Tarbox!" repeated the squire in a tone of reproof. "Really, you should speak more respectfully of Mr. Nathan Tarbox."
"Everybody calls him old Tarbox," said Bridget, "and he's the meanest man in town."
"Let that pass," said the justice, using a pet phrase. "Tell him to come in."
Mr. Tarbox immediately afterwards was ushered into the room.
"Good evening, Mr. Tarbox," said the squire, in a dignified tone.
"Good evenin', squire."
"All well at home, I trust, Mr. Tarbox."
"Oh yes," answered Tarbox, impatient to come to business. "I've come on law business."
"Indeed!"
"I want justice!" continued the farmer, slapping the table energetically, to the imminent hazard of a cup and saucer standing beside.
"If I can be of any service to you in my—ahem! judicial capacity, I of course should consider it my duty to help you."
"I want a warrant for the arrest of a brute."
"Ahem! my powers do not extend to the arrest of brutes. They are limited to human beings."
"You know what I mean—a brute on two legs, and mighty long ones, too."
"I cannot say I apprehend your meaning, Mr. Tarbox. Whom do you wish to arrest, let me ask?"
"The Norwegian giant."
"The Norwegian giant!" repeated the squire in astonishment.
"Yes; the giant they've got at the show."
"What has he been doing?"
"What hasn't he been doing?" shouted Tarbox. "He came into my lot this afternoon, seized me by the collar, nearly shook me to pieces, and kicked my dog Bruiser to death."
Squire Price listened in undisguised amazement.
"Really," he said, "this was a high-handed outrage. Was he drunk?"
"No; he can't get off on no such plea as that. He was as sober as you or I."
"Did he assign any reason for his extraordinary attack?"
"He was meddling in affairs that he had nothing to do with."
"What affairs?"
This was rather an embarrassing question to answer.
"The fact is, I caught Jimmy Graham and his brother cutting across my lot—a clear case of trespass—and I was about to give Jimmy a lesson when that brute interfered—"
"What sort of a lesson were you going to give him?" asked the squire, shrewdly.
"Why, you see I had tied the boy to a tree, and was going to touch him gently with a horsewhip, when in jumped this overgrown bully and attacked me."
"Ahem! I begin to see. I hear that the Graham boys' mother was taken sick this afternoon, and the boys were probably going for the doctor."
"So they said, but they had no right to go across my lot."
"It strikes me, Mr. Tarbox, they were excusable under the circumstances."