In School and Out Part 7

The clocks on the churches in Whitestone struck one, and Richard waited half an hour after he heard them--half an hour, which seemed like half a day to him.

He was afraid that Sandy's heart had failed him, or that his father had discovered him; and Richard decided to proceed alone with the enterprise. Disgusted at the failure of his a.s.sociate, he pushed off from the point. As he did so, he discovered another boat a short distance up the river, moving off from the sh.o.r.e. He watched it for a moment, till it disappeared in the gloom. It was not a common thing to see sail boats out at such an hour, and on such a night as this was; but he concluded that it was some gardener taking his produce to an early market, and he gave himself no uneasiness.

Just as he lost sight of the boat, he heard the familiar whistle of Sandy. Putting the Greyhound about, he ran under the lee of the point, and his friend leaped on board. Richard immediately put off again, and shaped the course of the boat for the inlet near the garden of "Old Batterbones."

"You are late, Sandy," said Richard, in reproachful tones.

"Can't help it. I got asleep, and didn't wake up," replied Sandy, with a long gape.

"Asleep! What did you go to sleep for? I haven't been asleep."

"I didn't mean to, but I was so sleepy I couldn't help it."

"You came pretty near spoiling your share of the fun. I had just cast off, and was going to put the thing through alone."

"I wish you had," answered Sandy, in a tone which did not please his companion any better than the words themselves.

"What do you mean?"

"It's a bad sc.r.a.pe we are getting into, and I wish we were well out of it. If I hadn't promised to go, I wouldn't have any thing to do with it."

"Old Batterbones licked you as well as me."

"I know that, and I should like to pay him off for it; but I don't believe it will do to go in quite so steep as we are going."

"You are chicken-hearted, Sandy. I thought you had more grit than that."

"I think I have got as much as you have, but I don't believe it will pay to rub your nose on a grindstone. Your nose will get the worst of it."

"You can back out, if you want to," added Richard, in an indifferent tone.

"I don't want to back out. I agreed to go, and I am going, if I have to be hung for it. I only say, it is a bad sc.r.a.pe."

"No sc.r.a.pe at all, Sandy. I don't calculate to get found out."

"You didn't calculate to before, but you did; and Old Batterbones got more fun out of the sc.r.a.pe than you did. Perhaps he will this time."

"If you are afraid, Sandy, back out, and we will go home again."

"I'm not afraid: don't use that word to me again, d.i.c.k. If I had been afraid, I shouldn't come, of course."

By this time the Greyhound was off the little inlet, near Mr.

Batterman's garden, and, as a matter of prudence, all conversation was suspended. The boat shot into the inlet, and was made fast to the same tree as on the former occasion. As the business of these hopeful youths was not with the melon patch, they took a different road this time.

They had gone but a short distance before the rushing of a boat through the water was heard. They paused and Richard saw a sail, which he believed he had seen before that night, pa.s.s by the mouth of the inlet.

He caught but a glance of it, as it cut a tangent along the small circle of his vision.

"I don't like the looks of that boat, Sandy," whispered Richard, as the sail disappeared in the gloom.

"Why not?"

"What is any one sailing about the river at this time of night for?"

"I don't know," added Sandy, who did not seem to be at all alarmed at the appearance of the boat.

"I think I have seen her before to-night," continued Richard.

"If you are afraid, we will both back out, and then neither can twit the other."

"I'm not afraid; come along. I've no notion of backing out." And Richard moved on, followed by his reluctant a.s.sociate.

When they had ascended the hill, they carefully walked all over the grounds to satisfy themselves that the farmer and his man were not keeping vigil over the melons; but they could neither see nor hear any thing that betokened the presence of a human being. Satisfied with this survey of the ground, Richard led the way to the barn, where he had received his terrible flagellation. The memories of the place were not pleasant, and they intensified the hatred he bore the owner of the premises, and fanned the flame of vengeance that was burning in his soul.

The barn was an old building, and very much out of repair. It contained the farmer's horses and oxen, his wagons, his hay, and other produce.

On the side nearest to the river, some of the boards had been forced partly off by the pressure of the hay; and against one of these places Richard sat down upon the ground.

"Pull out some of the hay, Sandy," whispered Richard, as he drew from his pocket the bottle which he had taken from the locker of the boat.

Sandy hinted something about backing out again; but a sneer from Richard silenced him, and he obeyed the order. While he was doing so, Richard walked round the barn to satisfy himself that no one was near.

They were alone, and the wicked work proceeded.

CHAPTER VII.

RICHARD KINDLES A LITTLE FIRE.

Sandy continued to pull out the hay from behind the board, till Richard, who, as engineer, conducted the operations, directed him to suspend his labors. The contents of the bottle were poured upon the heap of loose hay.

"What's that, d.i.c.k?" asked Sandy.

"Spirits of turpentine. I intend to make sure work of it," answered Richard.

"I wouldn't use that stuff," added Sandy.

"Why not?"

"To tell the truth, d.i.c.k, I was in hopes the fire wouldn't burn."

"I believe you are a fool, Sandy Brimblecom. Have you come clear over here, in the dead of the night, to kindle a fire that will not burn?"

"I don't like the idea of setting the barn on fire," whispered Sandy, in an earnest tone. "What do you suppose they will do with us, if we should get found out?"

"We shall not get found out."

"We shall be sent to the state prison--at least I shall."