Down the Slope Part 3

"That's about the size of it. Skip says you'll be laid up for a week when the s'ciety gets through with you."

"I'm much obliged for the promise; but don't believe quite all he says."

Chunky shook his head as if to intimate that the case was a desperate one, and then the nooning had come to an end. The clouds of coal dust which had but just settled rose again as the machinery was put in motion, and all was activity once more.

Although Fred had spoken so bravely he felt seriously disturbed, and during the remainder of the day his mind was fully occupied with thoughts of how he might successfully resist his enemies.

When night came he had arrived at no satisfactory conclusion, and at the signal to cease work Chunky ran swiftly away thus showing that while he would not join with the society as against his mate, he did not intend to take sides with him.

Donovan's promise of a.s.sistance was not a vain one. When Fred emerged from the breaker a few paces behind Chunky he saw the boss waiting for him, and the latter said in a friendly tone:

"It don't do you much good to be seen talkin' to me, for both men an'

boys hate what are called bosses' pets; but we'll stave off this row till you get used to the ropes, when it's a case of taking care of yourself."

Under the protection of Donovan, Fred walked to his home, feeling a bit ashamed of thus avoiding the meeting with the regulators, and more than one jeering cry did he hear before reaching the house.

"Be careful of yourself now," Donovan said, as they arrived at the cottage. "This won't make the lads any better disposed toward you, an'

it isn't safe to move 'round very much in the dark."

"I'll come home alone to-morrow an' have it out."

"Don't be rash. Wait for a chance, an' if Skip gets hurt pretty bad n.o.body here'll feel sorry."

Then Fred entered the house, and after a bath, a hot supper, during which his mother spoke many encouraging words, and a long consultation to his best course, he felt little fear of the regulators.

Mrs. Byram had good news for her son. The wife of the superintendent had introduced her to several other ladies who promised to give her employment, and the prospect of earning money seemed better than was antic.i.p.ated when the question of moving to the settlement had been under discussion.

"We shall get along famously," she said, "and, perhaps, it won't be many months before it will be possible to get enough ahead so we can venture to the city. I am going to open an account at the store in your name, for what little cash we had is very nearly exhausted."

"When are you going?"

"Now. I shall be busy to-morrow, and you must have a hearty supper."

"I'll go; the store isn't the nicest place possible during the evening."

"But the boys who are watching for you?"

"They won't dare to do anything when the men are around," Fred replied, carelessly, and taking the memorandum which his mother had prepared, he left the house.

The one street of the settlement was almost deserted, for it was yet too early to see the toilers who would spend the short time of rest in the open air near the store, and Fred's business was soon transacted. The desired credit was readily granted, and with his arms filled with packages he started toward home once more.

For the first time in the past twenty-four hours he had forgotten the existence of the regulators, and the fact that Skip Miller with half a dozen companions was waiting for him never came into his mind until a hand was suddenly pressed over his mouth, as a hoa.r.s.e voice whispered:

"Catch hold his legs an' arms, fellers! Never mind the stuff now."

In a twinkling Fred was lifted from the ground by a boy at each limb, while the one who had spoken kept a firm hold upon his mouth, and in this fas.h.i.+on he was carried swiftly along in the direction of the breaker, as he thought.

"We'll have to fetch them bundles so's to make it look as if he fell in," some one said, and a voice, which he recognized as Skip's, replied:

"That's so. You fellers what ain't doing anything pick 'em up."

"Who's got the rope?"

"I have."

"Why not throw him in an' run the chances? It's too bad to lose what cost half a dollar."

"There's time enough to fix that after we've got him to the shaft."

"Hold your tongues, or somebody will hear us!" Skip whispered, angrily, as his companions thus discussed the preliminaries.

Then came a long time of silence broken by the footsteps of the party, or the loud breathing of those who were carrying the burden.

Several times Fred tried to give an alarm; but his mouth was held so firmly that not a sound could escape his lips, and after a while he contented himself with simply trying to form some idea of the direction in which he was being taken.

When the party had carried him for ten or fifteen minutes a halt was made, and then his captors took the precaution of enveloping his head in a coat, which shut out every sound, save the loudly uttered remarks of the regulators.

He heard Skip berating one of the party, because some reference was made to their destination, and then ensued a noisy discussion as to what should be done with him.

"If he don't turn up to-morrer mornin' old Donovan will swear we took him off, an' there'll be a heap of trouble for all hands," one of the boys suggested.

"What of that? n.o.body can say we did it, an' after he's had one night of it, I reckon he'll be willin' to do as we say."

"But how'll he get out?"

"That's for him to say. We'll show him what it is to go agin our crowd, an' the rest is his business."

Then Fred was borne forward again until it seemed as if fully half a mile had been traversed, when the regulators halted for the second time.

The wrappings were removed from his head, and as nearly as the prisoner could tell he was some distance from the breaker; at the mouth of what appeared to be an abandoned shaft.

"Now, look here," Skip Miller said, as he stood before his prisoner.

"You've taken it into your head that us reg'lators don't 'mount to nothin'; but by to-morrer mornin' you'll think different. What we say we mean an' don't you forget it. If you'd been man enough to do like every other feller it would 'a been all right; but instead of that you go babyin' to old Donovan, an' we don't 'low sich funny business."

"What are you going to do now?"

"Show what the reg'lators 'mount to. When you come out of this I reckon you'll be willin' to pay up like a man, an' join us."

"It will have to be a pretty stiff dose to make me do anything of the kind," Fred said, angrily.

"That's jest what this is goin' to be. We're lettin' you off of a poundin' so's to show what can be done, an' if you say so much as a word to old Donovan we'll pretty near kill you."

"I shall talk to whoever I please."

"Not after you come out of this. Don't think we'll allers let you off so cheap, an' at the first show of tellin' what's been done to-night we'll give you another lesson."

Fred realized that it was useless to bandy words with those who held him so completely in their power, and understanding also that he could do nothing to better his condition, held his peace.