David Dunne Part 6

When David was on his way to bring Janey from school that afternoon he was again overtaken by Joe Forbes.

"Dave, I am going to Chicago in a few days, and I shall stop there long enough to buy a few presents to send back to some of my friends.

Here's my list. Let me see, Uncle Larimy, a new-fangled fishing outfit; Barnabas, a pipe; Miss M'ri--guess, Dave."

"You're the guesser, you know," reminded David.

"It's a new kind of ice-cream freezer, of course."

"She's going to freeze ice to-night," recalled David antic.i.p.atingly.

"Freeze ice! What a paradoxical process! But what I want you to suggest is something for Miss Rhody--something very nice."

"What she wants most is something you can't get her," thought David, looking up with a tantalizing little smile. Then her second wish occurred to him.

"I know something she wants dreadfully; something she never expects to have."

"That is just what I want to get for her."

"It'll cost a lot."

Joe disposed of that consideration by a munificent wave of the hand.

"What is it?"

"A black silk dress," informed the boy delightedly.

"She shall have it. How many yards does it take, I wonder?"

"We can ask Janey's teacher when we get to school," suggested the boy.

"So we can. I contrived to find out that Janey's heart is set on a string of beads--blue beads. I suppose, to be decent, I shall have to include Jud. What will it be?"

"He wants a gun. He's a good shot, too."

They loitered on the way, discussing Joe's gifts, until they met Janey and Little Teacher coming toward them hand in hand. David quickly secured the pail and books before Joe could appropriate them. He wasn't going to be cut out a second time in one day.

"Miss Williams," asked the young ranchman, "will your knowledge of mathematics tell me how many yards of black silk I must get to make a dress, and what kind of fixings I shall need for it?"

"You don't have to know," she replied. "Just go into any department store and tell them you want a dress pattern and the findings. They will do the rest."

"Shopping made easy. You shall have your reward now. My shanty boat is just about opposite here. Suppose the four of us go down to the river and have supper on board?"

Little Teacher, to whom life was a vista of blackboards dotted with vacations, thought this would be delightful. A pa.s.sing child was made a messenger to the farm, and they continued their way woodward to the river, where the shanty boat was anch.o.r.ed. Little Teacher set the table, Joe prepared the meal, while David sat out on deck, beguiling Janey with wonderful stories.

"This seems beautifully domestic to a cowboy," sighed Joe, looking around the supper table, his gaze lingering on Little Teacher, who was dimpling happily. Imaginative David proceeded to weave his third romance that day, with a glad little beating of the heart, for he had feared that Joe might be planning to wait for Janey, as the Judge was doubtless waiting for M'ri.

The children went directly home after supper, Joe accompanying Little Teacher. Despite the keenness of David's sorrow the day had been a peaceful, contented one, but when the shadows began to lengthen to that most lonesome hour of lonesome days, when from home-coming cows comes the sound of tinkling bells, a wave of longing swept over him, and he stole away to the orchard. Again, a soft, sustaining little hand crept into his.

"Don't, Davey," pleaded a caressing voice, "don't make me cry."

CHAPTER IV

Outside of the time allotted for the performance of a wholesome amount of farm work and the preparation of his daily lessons, David was free for diversions which had hitherto entered sparingly into his life.

After school hours and on Sat.u.r.days the Barnabas farm was the general rendezvous for all the children within a three-mile radius. The old woods by the river rang with the gay treble of childish laughter and the ecstatic barking of dogs dashing in frantic pursuit. There was always an open sesame to the cookie jar and the apple barrel.

David suffered the common fate of all in having a dark cloud. Jud was the dark cloud, and his silver lining had not yet materialized.

In height and physical strength Jud was the superior, so he delighted in taunting and goading the younger boy. There finally came a day when instinctive self-respect upheld David in no longer resisting the call to arms. Knowing Barnabas' disapproval of fighting, and with his mother's parting admonition p.r.i.c.king his conscience, he went into battle reluctantly and half-heartedly, so the fight was not prolonged, and Jud's victory came easily. Barnabas, hurrying to the scene of action, called Jud off and reprimanded him for fighting a smaller boy, which hurt David far more than did the pummeling he had received.

"What wuz you fighting fer, anyway?" he demanded of David.

"Nothing," replied David laconically, "just fighting."

"Jud picks on Davey all the time," was the information furnished by the indignant Janey, who had followed her father.

"Well, I forbid either one of you to fight again. Now, Jud, see that you leave Dave alone after this."

Emboldened by his easily won conquest and David's apparent lack of prowess, Jud continued his jeering and nagging, but David set his lips in a taut line of finality and endured in silence until there came the taunt superlative.

"Your mother was a washerwoman, and your father a convict."

There surged through David a fierce animal hate. With a tight closing of his hardy young fist, he rushed to the onslaught so swiftly and so impetuously that Jud recoiled in fear and surprise. With his first tiger-like leap David had the older boy by the throat and bore him to the ground, maintaining and tightening his grip as they went down.

"I'll kill you!"

David's voice was steady and calm, but the boy on the ground underneath felt the very hairs of his head rising at the look in the dark eyes above his own.

Fortunately for both of them Barnabas was again at hand.

He jerked David to his feet.

"Fightin' again, are you, after I told you not to!"

"It was him, David, that began it. I never struck him," whimpered Jud, edging away behind his father.

"Did you, David?" asked Barnabas bluntly, still keeping his hold on the boy, who was quivering with pa.s.sion.

"Yes."

His voice sounded odd and tired, and there was an ache of bafflement in his young eyes.

"What fer? What did he do to make you so mad?"

"He said my mother was a washerwoman and my father a convict! Let me go! I'll kill him!"