In School and Out Part 8

"I shall, if you are; we shall both be in the same boat, and if one goes down the other must."

"I don't know about that," said Sandy; "your father is rich, and he will get you off. I shall have to stand all the racket."

"Shut up, Sandy! I have gone too far to back out now," added Richard, decidedly, as he took a bunch of matches from his pocket.

"Hold on a moment, d.i.c.k, before it is too late. It will be cheaper to do our thinking now than it will be after the barn is burned down."

"I have done all the thinking I care to do already. The die is cast, Sandy. I won't back out now, and you shall not."

"It's too bad to burn up the horses and oxen in the barn. That's cruel.

If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't say a word."

"Very well; we will go round and turn out the horses and oxen. I don't want to burn them any more than you do."

"But the noise will wake the farmer and his man."

"No, it won't. I have thought a great deal about the animals, and it goes right against my grain to hurt them, especially the horses."

"I don't want to burn the barn, any way."

"You are a coward and a fool, Sandy."

"It's easy enough for you to say so, when you know your father has money enough to buy up Old Batterbones, if we get into any sc.r.a.pe."

"Come, no more whining, Sandy; I'm going to get the horses and oxen out, and then I'm going to burn the barn."

"I'm off, then."

"Very good; but if I get into trouble, I will blow on you."

This consideration staggered Sandy, and he concluded to stay and see the end of the wicked enterprise. The house of Mr. Batterman was at a considerable distance from the barn, and there was but little danger that the humane policy of the young incendiaries would expose them to any additional peril.

Richard, followed by Sandy, entered the barn, and turned all the animals loose. They drove them into a lot where they could not get near the fire. The only thing that had weighed upon the mind of the broker's son, in the prosecution of his mad enterprise, was now removed, and he returned to the place where he had prepared the materials for starting the conflagration. Again Sandy stated his objections, and urged Richard to abandon the scheme; but the latter, without any reply to this remonstrance, drew a card of matches across a stone, and applied the burning ma.s.s to the hay which had been saturated with turpentine.

The heap of combustible matter suddenly blazed up, lighting all the fields around them. The work had been surely done, and it was too late for Sandy to urge any more of his objections.

"Come, Sandy, the work is done. Now use your legs," said Richard, as he started at the top of his speed towards the inlet where the Greyhound lay.

Sandy's legs did not fail him on this emergency, for he soon outstripped his companion. They had gone but a few rods, when both were appalled at the discovery of two men, who were running towards the fire with all their might--which was not saying much, for both of them seemed to be old and stiff, and incapable of making very good time even on so pressing an emergency as the present.

The guilty boys were filled with terror. The shock was so great that it seemed to deprive them of their strength, and they found their legs giving out under them.

"We are caught, d.i.c.k," gasped Sandy, when he could regain breath enough to speak.

"No, we are not; come along. Don't stop here," answered Richard, who was beginning to recover his self-possession.

They ran as fast as their weakened limbs would permit, till they reached the bank of the river. Richard jumped into the boat and hoisted the sails, while Sandy cast off the painter, and they were soon standing out from the sh.o.r.e before the fresh breeze. Neither of them spoke for some minutes, for neither of them had breath enough left in his body to do so.

"The fire don't burn," said Richard, when the boat had gone far enough to enable him to see over the high bank of the river.

"Don't it?" asked Sandy, hoa.r.s.ely, for the terror and exhaustion of the awful moments through which he had just pa.s.sed seemed to have choked up his throat, and deprived him of his voice.

"No; it is as dark up there as it was before we landed."

"I am glad of it," gasped Sandy, who was beginning to breathe a little easier.

"I'm not," added Richard, firmly. "We shall only have the job to do over again."

"If you ever catch me in such a sc.r.a.pe as this again, you may let me know it when you do."

"You might as well have the game as the name."

"I don't know about that. I am glad the barn didn't burn. Are you sure the fire has gone out?"

"No doubt of it. There isn't enough to light your cigar."

"I suppose those men put it out. Who do you think they were?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. I wish they had been somewhere else.

They have spoiled my night's work."

"I am glad they have; and I thank them with all my heart for what they have done."

"I don't; you might as well be hung for an old sheep as a lamb. If we are caught it will be all the same with us as though we had burned the barn."

"Who do you suppose the men were?"

"I haven't the least idea. I don't care."

"Yes, you do care, d.i.c.k. What's the use of talking in that way? You don't want to be found out any more than I do."

"I know that, but we are not found out; and that isn't all--we shall not be."

"I should like to be satisfied on that point."

"The men didn't take any notice at all of us, and I am certain they did not see us."

"They couldn't help seeing us, d.i.c.k. The fire lit up the whole field, so that it was as light as broad day."

"Suppose they did see us; they couldn't tell who we were. Keep a stiff upper lip, Sandy, and it will be all right."

"I can only hope for the best, but I shall be scared at my own shadow for a month to come," added Sandy, in whose nature a vein of candor appeared to be suddenly developed, for he was not in the habit of acknowledging that he was afraid of any thing.

"You don't talk a bit like Sandy Brimblecom," sneered Richard; "and you act more like an old woman than a fellow of any s.p.u.n.k."

"Humph! I'll bet you are as scared as I am, only you won't own it."

"I don't know what fear means, Sandy."