Bernard Brooks' Adventures: The Experience of a Plucky Boy Page 2

  CHAPTER II. BERNARD'S BOLDNESS.

  |On his way to the post-office Bernard met Nat Barclay.

  "Where are you bound, Bernard?" he asked.

  "To the post-office."

  "How are you getting on with Ezekiel?"

  "There is no love lost between us. He says I am a bad lot. In fact, hesays he never knew a wuss boy."

  Both boys laughed.

  "What bad things do you do?"

  "Associate with you, for one thing."

  "Has Ezekiel forbidden it?"

  "Yes."

  "Then perhaps I had better leave you?"

  "By no means. I don't propose to obey Mr. Snowdon in that."

  "Thank you, but I don't want you to get into trouble."

  "What trouble can I get into?"

  "He may undertake to flog you."

  "Let him try it," said Bernard in a significant tone. "What do you thinkI would be doing? Did he ever undertake to chastise you?"

  "No. He knew my father would not permit it."

  "If he would whip his own son it might do him good. Septimus is a youngimp."

  "There he is now! I wonder what he is up to." Septimus Snowdon was anill-favored boy of fifteen with red hair and freckles seeming likeextensive patches upon a face in which even the most partial eyes couldnot have seen a redeeming feature. He was standing a little distanceahead, looking up into the branches of a tree in which a terrifiedkitten had taken refuge. Standing beside him was a young boy of twelvewho seemed to be concerned for the safety of the kitten.

  Septimus raised a large stone, and taking aim, sent it through the air,aiming at the cat. It came very near hitting her.

  "Don't stone my kitty," remonstrated Frank Fisk, the young boy.

  "Stop your noise!" said Septimus roughly. "I shall stone her all I wantto."

  As he spoke he threw another stone, which just grazed the kitten's faceand elicited a terrified cry.

  "There, you bad boy, you hit my kitty."

  "Who calls me a bad boy?" demanded Septimus, with an ugly look on hisface.

  "I did, and you are one, or you wouldn't throw stones at my kitten."

  "I'll throw stones at you if you like it any better."

  "You wouldn't dare to. I'd tell my father, and he'd----"

  "What would he do?"

  "He'd stop you."

  "We'll see if he will."

  Septimus took a strong cord from his pocket, and seizing the boy'shands, prepared to tie them together in spite of his cries.

  "What are you going to do?" asked Frank in a tone of apprehension.

  "I am going to give you a lesson," answered Septimus coolly.

  Frank struggled to free himself, but Septimus was too strong for him.

  Nat Barclay turned to Bernard.

  "Shall we let him hurt little Frank?" he asked.

  "Not much."

  As Bernard spoke he strode towards Septimus, who thus far had notobserved him.

  "Stop that, you young brute!" he said in an imperious tone. "Do you hearme?"

  Septimus turned quickly, and his scowl became deeper when he saw who hadspoken to him; for if there was any boy he hated it was Bernard, who hadinterfered with him more than once.

  "Yes," he said. "I hear and I won't do it."

  "You won't, eh?"

  "No, I won't, and you'd better be careful what you say or do, or I'lltell pa, and then----"

  "And then what?"

  "You'll get a flogging."

  "That doesn't frighten me much. Are you going to stop?"

  "No, I'm not." and Septimus gave an extra twist that made Frank cry out.

  Bernard concluded that the time for remonstrance was past. He sprangforward, and seizing Septimus in his powerful grasp, tore him from hisyoung victim.

  "I'll pay you up for this!" shrieked Septimus, as he flung himself uponBernard.

  Bernard laid him on his back in less than a minute.

  "Do you want any more?" he asked, rather contemptuously.

  Just at this moment the kitten saw a favorable opportunity to escape,and ran down the trunk of the tree. As she was running away Septimuscaught sight of her, and his cruel instincts were aroused. He seized arock and flung it at her. Had it struck the kitten she would have beenseriously hurt.

  Bernard was fond of pets, and his soul revolted at cruelty in any form.

  "I see you can't be trusted, Septimus," he said composedly. "Nat, comehere and help secure him."

  "What shall I do?" asked Nat.

  "Hold his hands."

  Nat Barclay complied with his request, and Bernard taking the cord whichSeptimus had used on Frank, quickly and securely tied the hands of theyoung tyrant.

  Septimus struggled and threatened, but without effect. In less than aminute he was securely bound.

  "There," said Bernard, "you are safe for a short time."

  "Untie my hands, or I'll get my father to flog you!" screamed Septimus.

  "Perhaps you'd better," said Nat Barclay in a low voice. He was afraidhis friend would get into trouble.

  "No, I won't. Septimus needs the lesson. You needn't worry about me. Nowwe'll go to the post-office."

  The two boys kept on their way, and Septimus, his hands tied, with wrathin his heart, started for home.

  Mr. Snowdon was just coming out of the front door, when to hisastonished gaze was revealed his son and heir walking towards the house,with his hands close together, like a prisoner in handcuffs.

  "What does all this mean?" he asked in surprise. "What have you beentying your hands for?"

  "I didn't tie my hands," said Septimus sullenly. "Do you think I am afool?"

  "Septimus, you should not speak to your father like this. If you did nottie your hands, who did?"

  "Who did? That young loafer Bernard Brooks. I want you to flog himwithin an inch of his life."

  "Bernard Brooks tied your hands?"

  "Didn't I say so?"

  "But why did you let him do it?"

  "How could I help it, when he had Nat Barclay with him?"

  "So Nat Barclay was with him?"

  "Yes, he was."

  "I forbade him to associate with that Barclay."

  "Much he cares for your orders. When I told him you would flog him, helaughed!"

  "Oh, he laughed, did he?" said Mr. Snowdon, much incensed.

  "Yes, he doesn't care for you," said Septimus, craftily fanning hisfather's wrath.

  "I'll learn him," said Mr. Snowdon, shaking his head vigorously. "He'llsee that I am not to be trifled with. But what did he tie your handsfor?"

  "Just cut the cord and I'll tell you. It hurts like all possessed."

  Mr. Snowdon drew a jack knife from his pocket and severed the cord.Septimus breathed a sigh of relief.

  "See how very red my wrists are?" he said. "Pa, do me a favor."

  "Well, what is it?"

  "Keep this cord, and let me tie Bernard's hands with it."

  "A good idea, Septimus. Now tell me what he tied your hands for "

  "For just nothing at all."

  "There must have been something."

  "Well, you see Frank Fisk's kitten was up in a tree, and I was shyingstones at it. Frank made such a fuss that I took out a cord and thoughtI would tie his hands just to give him a lesson. Just then those twoloafers came along, and had the impudence to tell me to stop, just as ifthey had any authority over me. Of course I told them it was none oftheir business, and defied them."

  "Very proper, Septimus. You are only responsible for your conduct tome."

  "Then Bernard Brooks made a savage attack upon me, and getting NatBarclay to hold my hands, he tied them. What do you say to that, pa?"

  "What do I say? That it was a high-handed and outrageous proceeding."

  "Bully for you, pa! You express my sentiments. Now what are you goin' todo about it?"

  "I shall call the Brooks boy to account. He forgets that he is under mycharge."

  "He seems to think I am under his charge. Say, pa, you won't
allow yourson to be insulted and trod upon, will you?"

  "No, I won't, Septimus. For some time I have been thinking that it wouldbe necessary to flog Bernard Brooks, and now I have made up my mind todo it."

  "Good, pa! You'll let me see you tackle him, won't you?"

  "Yes, Septimus, I will. I can understand the gratification it will giveyou."

  "If you do that will pay me for what he did to me."

  "But perhaps he won't come back," said Mr. Snowdon in an apprehensivetone. "In that case I shall lose the quarterly sum his guardian paysme."

  "You don't think he'll run away?" asked Septimus.

  Half an hour later this question was answered. Bernard was seenapproaching the house, his manner cool and composed, while he lookedneither troubled nor flurried.