The Knights of the White Shield Part 9

The wrathful Charlie gave Tim a look of contempt and turned away.

"O, so he wont turn his pretty face this way, wont he?"

Having said this, Tim changed his tone and shouted fiercely, "You've got to look this way, sir. Bob, you get on that other raft and I will take this one here, and we will catch that young saint."

The two unoccupied rafts were immediately brought into service. Never did an innocent merchantman fleeing from two pirates make a harder exertion than did Charlie to get away from Tim and Bob. They gained on him, though, rapidly.

"There they come," thought Charlie, giving one look back at the dirty, saucy buccaneers. Tim had now reached the middle of the little pond when a thing greatly in his favor proved to be a serious thing against him, and that was the strength of his push. The fastenings of the log-raft were not equal to any violent pressure upon them, and suddenly they gave way and the logs separated. Tim's legs separated with them till they could part no farther, and then he tried to spring from one log to the other. Alas for him, he put his foot in the wrong place, and that wrong place was the water! Down he went into as thorough a bath as ever a young rascal got in this world. The water was not over his head, and he was soon on his feet, but the dip had been complete enough to satisfy the most vindictive members of the Up-the-Ladder Club, and Tim was spitting and sputtering, then spitting and sputtering again, trying to clear month, eyes, nose, ears, of the unwelcome, dirty ditch-water.

"Give--us--a--hand, Bob," he gasped.

Charlie did not stay to see any further developments, but pushed for the sh.o.r.e, safely reaching it, and then made his way to the fence, climbing it and gaining the wood-lot. In the meantime, the other members of the club had halted and were consulting together. It was Juggie who arrested their flight. "It is too bad," he said, "to leave Charlie."

That remark detained Billy, and then Sid, Wort, and Pip stopped.

Sid laughed and said, "My father has been in the army and he would call this the flying artillery. So you see it is all right."

"I'm afraid it's all wrong," said Billy, "to leave Charlie behind."

"Yes," said Wort, "to run away from a member of the club."

There was now a general feeling of indignation toward any member of the club that had deserted Charlie, if that member could be found, as each one's motive had not been to desert another, but the prudent impulse to save himself.

Sid was among the fiercest to shout and the most furious to propose.

"Charlie deserted!" he said. "Who's deserted Charlie? That wont do! Back, fellers, to the rescue!"

A brave, sympathetic shout arose. A few minutes ago Sid would have been afraid of it as something that might attract the enemy's attention, but he calculated that they must now be at a safe distance from the down-townies.

"Let's make a flank movement on the enemy," said the president.

"What ith that?" asked Pip.

"Why, not so much to go _at_ them as to go about them and take them unawares in the rear."

This mode of attack, which did not necessitate the actual facing of the enemy, was very popular and took wonderfully with the club. To Sid, in particular, it was a very agreeable mode. He boldly headed this movement.

He intended to go off in a direction where no enemy would ever be met, but in his ignorance of the woods, he took a course that would have led the club back to the pond, and it was an agreeable thing for Charlie that he did, as that fugitive from the pirates soon was met.

"Hullo, there he is!" shouted Wort.

"Who?" asked Sid, trembling, and fearful that it might be Tim Taylor.

"Here I am, boys," shouted Charlie.

"Ho, to the rescue!" cried Sid, now taking long leaps forward. "Charlie, I rescue thee!"

"We are coming to fank de enemy," said Juggie, anxious to have a hand in winning the laurels now coming so rapidly to the Knights of the White s.h.i.+eld.

"Going to surround the enemy," exclaimed the warlike Sid, "and also rescue Charlie, but--but--we might as well go back now. Did you have a hard time, Charlie?"

"I did have a time, I tell you," and Charlie eagerly told the story of his adventures.

"How we will go back, boys," said the president, "and go round home through the woods."

"No, sir," declared Billy, who had somewhat of his cousin's resoluteness; "I'm going home the way we came, and if any body stops me, it is his lookout."

The heroic sentiment was loudly applauded, and the club returning valiantly stormed the railroad fence and carried it--a remarkable feat considering that there was n.o.body on it to oppose them.

Billy Grimes in his earnestness even brought down the top-rail with him.

"Stop, fellers!" warned Sid. "The enemy!" Lifting their eyes to the top of the high railroad embankment, they saw Tim in the act of chastising Bob.

It was afterward ascertained that Tim was rewarding Bob for not helping him more efficiently at the time of the raft accident. Tim completed the bestowal of this reward, and then noticing the club, he shook his fist at them. He did not linger, but followed sullenly by Bob, pa.s.sed down the other side of the embankment. The club did not find out whether this was an intended retreat, or simply the taking of a convenient route to reach home. They put their own construction on it, and the movement was judged to be "a shameful retreat by the enemy." Billy led off in a brave, determined charge up the embankment--Sid shouting, "Hurrah! Glory for us!

Those getting the battle-field are victors, you know!"

n.o.body disputed this, and the valiant knights continued their triumphant advance to their very homes.

The Fourth was drawing to a close. The sun was breaking out through the clouds that had covered the heavens, and so brilliant was the outburst of colors, it seemed as if the folds of an immense star-spangled banner had been suddenly let loose in the western sky. It very soon paled though. The clouds thickened everywhere and the easterly wind that had been blowing all the afternoon, bringing occasional mist, now drove to land a blinding fog. Finally it began to rain, and yet gently, as if reluctant to spoil any festivities of the Fourth. Gathering up all their pyrotechnic resources, it was found that the club boys could muster a few pin-wheels, five Roman candles, and a "flower-pot." Most of these had been stored in the barn, but were now moved out-doors and taken to the shelter of a stout leafy maple by the side of the lane.

"The rain wont trouble us here," said the president. "Where is Charlie?"

"He has gone to get his fire-works," replied Billy Grimes. "He left them in the house and it is locked, for his Aunt Stanshy has gone out, and he's waiting for her, I guess."

"We had better begin, fellers, and he will come soon. The rain is coming,"

said Sid, warned by a big drop that glancing through the branches smote him on the nose. Pin-wheels, candles, and the other attraction were p.r.o.nounced a success, though their discharge was hastened on account of the thickening rain.

The boys separated, tired and sleepy, sorry to part with the Fourth, and yet secretly glad that there was such a thing as "bed."

"Whar's Charlie," asked Juggie, as the boys separated. No one knew.

"Good-bye, Charlie!" shouted one after the other, and all hastened to their homes.

Charlie was where he had been the last twenty minutes, occupying a seat out in the porch at the back door and waiting for Aunt Stanshy. He had fallen asleep, so thoroughly tired was this patriotic young American, and the day for him was ending as it began--in a chair. Aunt Stanshy came at last, feeling her way through the shadows in the porch and striving to reach the back door, whose key she carried.

"What's this?" she said, running against the sleeper. "If it isn't that boy! And here the rain has been working round into the porch and it is coming on him! If you don't take cold, Charles Pitt Macomber, then I am mistaken! Wake up, wake up!"

CHAPTER VI.

A SICK PATRIOT.

The next morning, Aunt Stanshy was stirring at the usual hour, and her usual hour in summer was five. She did not generally expect to see Charlie down stairs until half past six. This morning, Aunt Stanshy; looked up at the clock on the high mantel-piece and saw that it was seven, then half after seven, then eight, and half after eight; but all this time there was neither sound nor sight of Charlie.

"Ma.s.sy, where is that boy? I thought I would let him sleep, he was so tired, but he ought to be around now," reflected Aunt Stanshy.

She opened the door that led up to his chamber and slowly mounted the steep, narrow, yellow stairs, turning to the right into Charlie's sanctum.

A turn to the left would have taken her to her own room. Peeping into Charlie's room, she saw the boy fast asleep on the bed. Stealing softly across the bare floor and reaching the red and yellow home-braided rug before his bed, she looked down on the sleeping Charlie. A smile parted his lips, and be murmured something unintelligible to Aunt Stanshy. Then she laid her hand on his head, giving a little start.

"That boy took cold last night, and is a bit feverish. I'll let him lie here a spell longer."