Author: Oliver Optic
Category: Adventure
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CHAPTER IV.
WHO IS MASTER.
I remained in the back room long enough to assure myself that Mrs.Fishley did not intend to put a rude hand upon Flora. I even ventured tohope that she was ashamed of herself, and would not repeat the dastardlyact. I went to the barn to consider the situation. I felt just as thoughI had won the victory over my tyrants in the present battle; but I wasconfident that the conflict would be renewed at some more favorabletime.
Like all small-minded men, like all tyrants and oppressors, CaptainFishley was a revengeful person. He would wait till he caught menapping, and then spring some trap upon me. He would delay his vengeancetill some circumstances conspired against me, and then come down upon mewith the whole weight of his malignity. I determined to keep a sharplookout upon all his movements, and especially to avoid all cause ofoffence myself. I meant to keep myself as straight as I possibly could.
I had time only to run my course through my mind before the supper-bellwas rung at the back door by Mrs. Fishley. Should I go in to supper asusual, and meet the whole family, including Ham? I answered thisquestion in the affirmative, deciding that I would not sulk, or make anyunnecessary trouble to any one. I went in, and took my seat as usual atthe table, by the side of Flora. It was a very solemn occasion, forhardly a word was spoken during the meal. If I had been ugly, I mighthave congratulated myself upon the sensation I had produced.
The head of the family sweetened his tea twice, and upset themilk-pitcher upon the table-cloth, which, under ordinary circumstances,would have brought forth some sharp criticisms from his wife; but Mrs.Fishley neglected to express her disapprobation of her spouse'scarelessness, even in the mildest terms. All these things assured methat our host and hostess were busy thinking of the great event of theafternoon. The captain looked morose and savage, and Mrs. Fishley lookedas though a new burden, or a new grief, had been added to her heavy loadof worldly cares.
I half suspected that Captain Fishley was not entirely satisfied withthe conduct of either his wife or his son. It was even possible that hehad spoken to them in disapprobation of their course; but I had no meansof knowing. It seemed to me that otherwise father, mother, and son wouldhave joined in a general jaw at me, as they had often done before.Whatever good or evil had been wrought by my vigorous action, myappetite was not impaired. I ate a hearty supper, and then went into thestore for the mail-bag, which was to be carried down to Riverport.
"Are you going after the mail, Buck?" asked Captain Fishley, in an ugly,taunting tone, which assured me that he had not recovered from theshock.
"Yes, sir."
"O, you are! I didn't know but you would give up work altogether,"sneered he, apparently disappointed to find me no longer a rebel.
"I told you I should do my work just as I always did. All I want is fairtreatment for my sister and myself," I replied in the least offensivetones I could command.
"I expect my brother, Squire Fishley, will come up to-night," added thecaptain, more mildly. "You will go to the hotel in Riverport for him,and bring him up. Take a lantern with you; it will be dark to-night."
Squire Fishley had been a state senator, and the captain regarded him asone of the greatest men in Wisconsin. I was rather pleased to have hiscompany home on the lonely ride from Riverport, and I confess that I wassomewhat proud of making the acquaintance of the distinguishedgentleman.
"Don't be in a hurry, Buck," said Ham Fishley, as I picked up themail-bag.
I stopped and looked at him, for his tones were more conciliatory than Ihad heard him use within my remembrance. I actually flattered myselfthat I had conquered a peace.
"I want to ride with you as far as Crofton's," he added. "I have beenvery busy getting ready, and haven't had time to black my boots yet.It's a pretty stylish party I'm going to, and I want to look asscrumptious as any of them. Will you black them for me? I'll be muchobliged to you if you will."
"Certainly I will, Ham, when you ask me in that way, and glad to do itfor you," I replied, without hesitating an instant.
I took the boots and went to work upon them. There was an unmistakablesmile of triumph on his face as I did so; but I was perfectly satisfiedthat the triumph was mine, not his. Doubtless those civil, polite wordswere an invention of the enemy, to win my compliance; and Ham,forgetting that I had not rebelled against the work, but only thetyrannical style of his order, was weak enough to believe that he hadconquered me. I made up my mind to review the circumstances, and explainmy position to him, on the way to Crofton's.
"Hasn't that letter come yet, Captain Fishley?" asked an ancient maidenlady, who entered the store while I was polishing Ham's boots.
"I haven't seen anything of it yet, Miss Larrabee," replied thepostmaster.
"Dear me! What shall I do!" exclaimed the venerable spinster. "Mybrother, down in Ohio, promised to send me forty dollars; and I want themoney awfully. I was going down to see Jim's folks, but I can't go, nornothin', till that money comes. I hain't got nothin' to pay for goin'with, you see."
"I'm very sorry, Miss Larrabee. Perhaps the letter will come into-night's mail," added the captain.
"But the mail don't git in till nine or ten o'clock, and that's afterbedtime. Ethan writ me the money would be here by to-day, at thefurthest. You don't suppose it's got lost--do you?"
"I think not. We've never lost anything in our office, leastwise notsince I've been postmaster," answered Captain Fishley, who seemed toattribute the fact to his own superior management.
"It may come up to-night, as you say, and I will be down again in themorning to see about it," replied Miss Larrabee, as she left the store,hopeful that the money would arrive in season to enable her to departthe next day on her journey.
I finished blacking Ham's boots, and he put them on. He was going to aparty at Crofton's, and had already dressed himself as sprucely as theresources of Torrentville would permit. He was seventeen years old, andsomewhat inclined to be "fast." He was rather a good-looking fellow--anexceedingly good-looking fellow in his own estimation. Being an onlyson, his father and mother were disposed to spoil him, though not evenHam wholly escaped the sharp points and obliquities of his mother'stemper. His father gave him what he believed to be a liberal allowanceof spending money; but on this subject there was a disagreement betweenHam and the "old man."
The young man always wanted more money, and the old man thought he hadenough. Ham was pleasantly inclined towards some of the young ladies,and some of the young ladies were pleasantly inclined towards him. Hamliked to take them out to ride, especially Squire Crofton's youngestdaughter, in the stable-keeper's new buggy; but his father thought thelight wagon, used as a pleasure vehicle by the family, was good enougheven for Elsie Crofton. I had heard some sharp disputes between them onthis subject.
There was to be a party that evening at Crofton's. Ham was invited ofcourse; I was not. Ham was considered a young man. I was deemed a boy,not competent to go to parties yet. As long as Flora could not go, I wascontent to stay at home with her.
I placed the mail-bag in the wagon, Ham took his seat by my side, and Idrove off. As the reader already knows my position in regard to mytyrants, I need not repeat what passed between Ham and me. I told him Ihad made up my mind to do all the work I had been in the habit of doing,without grumbling, until October, but that I would not be treated like adog any longer; I would take to the woods and live like a bear before Iwould stand it. My remarks were evidently very distasteful to mycompanion. He did not say much, and I was sorry to see that he wasnursing his wrath against me. He regarded me as a being vastly inferiorto himself, and the decided stand I had taken filled him with the samekind of indignation which a brutal teamster feels towards his contraryhorse.
"Hold on a minute, Buck; I want to get a drink of water," said Ham, aswe approached a spring by the roadside, half a mile before we reachedCrofton's.
I drew up the black horse, and he jumped out of the wagon. He did notdrink more than a swallow; and I did not think he was very thirsty.
"Go ahead!" said he, leaping into the rear of the wagon, behind theseat, where I had thrown the mail-bag.
He sat down on the end-board of the wagon, and though I thought it alittle strange that he should take such an uncomfortable seat,especially when he had on his best clothes, I did not suspect anymischief. The first thing I knew after I had started the horse, themail-bag came down upon my head with a force which made me see morestars than ever before twinkled in the firmament of my imagination. Atthe next instant, Ham seized me by the collar of my coat with bothhands, in such a way that I could not easily move.
"Now, Buck Bradford, we'll settle this business. I'm going to know who'smaster, you or I," cried Ham.
"All right, Ham; you shall know in about two minutes and a half," Ireplied, choking with wrath, as I hauled in the horse.
Then commenced a struggle which it is impossible to describe. I do notmyself know what I did, only that I thrashed, squirmed, and twisted tillI found myself behind the seat with my antagonist; but he held on to mycoat-collar as though his salvation depended upon the tenacity of hisgrip. Finally I doubled myself up, and came out of my coat. In thetwinkling of an eye, I sprang upon him, and tumbled him out of thewagon, into the dirt of the road. Though he was a year older and twoinches taller than I was, while he had been clerking it in the store, Ihad been nursing my muscles with the shovel and the hoe, the pitchforkand the axe; and I was the stronger and tougher of the two. I could domore, and bear more, than he. A fight depends as much upon the abilityto endure injury as it does to inflict it.
The rough usage I had given Ham was very disheartening to him; while I,with the exception of being a little shaky about the head from the blowof the mail-bag, was as fresh as ever.
"Have you found out who's master yet, Ham?" I demanded, edging up tohim.
He looked sheepish, and retreated a pace at every step I advanced. Atthis point, however, the black horse started, and I was obliged toabandon the field for a moment to attend to him, for the reins hadfallen under his feet. I turned the horse around, and then I saw that mycowardly assailant had armed himself with a club.