CHAPTER XII.WOLF’S FORTRESS.Under the influence of the better thoughts which my good mother had suggested to me, I was willing to do better deeds. I was ready to apologize; I had done so, but I could not go down upon my knees before such a fellow as Waddie Wimpleton, or any fellow, for that matter. It was hard enough for me to say I was sorry; and I had done so for my mother’s sake, rather than my own.“I don’t think you are very sorry for what you said,” sneered Waddie.“I am sorry enough to apologize. I really regret that I made use of any hard expressions,” I replied.“Then get down on your knees, and beg my pardon, as I tell you,” persisted Waddie, flourishing his stick. “If you do, I’ll let you off on part of the punishment.”“I apologized because I had done wrong, and not because I was afraid of the punishment,” I added, still schooling my tongue to gentle speech.“Humph!” exclaimed the scion; and my remark was based on a philosophy so subtle that he could not comprehend it.“Go in! Go in! Give it to him!” shouted the supporting ruffians. “He’s fooling you, Waddie.”“If you are not going to do what I tell you, look out for the consequences,” blustered the young gentleman, who still seemed to have some doubts in regard to the prudence of his present conduct.“Waddie Wimpleton,” said I.“Well, what do you want now?” demanded he, dropping his weapon again.“If you strike me with that stick, you must look out for consequences. I shall defend myself as well as I know how.”Waddie glanced at his companions.“Hit him! What are you waiting for?” cried his friends; and I have always observed, in such cases, that it is easier to give advice than to strike the blow.Mr. Waddie had placed himself in a position which he could not well evacuate. He evidently had no heart for the encounter which he foresaw must take place if he struck me, and perhaps he had not entire confidence in the character of the support which he was to receive. At any rate he could not help realizing that the first blows of the battle were likely to be dealt upon his own head.“You called me a liar,” said he, working up his courage again by a new recital of his wrongs.“I did, and apologized for it,” I replied.“Go down on your knees, then, and say you are sorry.”“I will not.”“Then mind your eye,” continued Waddie, as with a sudden spring he hit me on the arm, which I had raised to ward off the blow.I did mind my eye, and I minded his, too; for, before he could bring up his supports, I leaped upon him. Though he was of my own size and age, he was only a baby in my hands. I grasped his stick, wrenched and twisted it a few times, and then threw him over backwards into a pool of soft mud, whichI had chosen to flank my position and save me from an attack in the rear. He was half buried in the soft compound of black mud and decayed leaves which filled the hole, and his good clothes suffered severely from the effects of his disaster.The moment the conflict commenced the supports moved up; but, before they could come into action, I had overthrown my assailant, and stood against the tree with the club in my hand. When Waddie went over backwards, a new duty seemed to be suggested to his backers; and, instead of turning on me, they proceeded to help their principal out of his uncomfortable position. Encouraged and thoroughly waked up by my victory, I think I could have thrashed the whole party; but I had not wholly escaped the influence of my mother’s teachings, and was disposed to act strictly in self-defence.The quagmire into which Waddie had fallen was near the bank of the brook which meandered through the grove, and which had been bridged in several places, as well to add to the convenience of passers-by, as to increase the picturesque beauty of the place. I deemed it best to retreat to one of these bridges,which was not more than three feet wide, and which would enable me to defend myself from an assault to the best advantage.“Humph! you cowards!” snarled Waddie, as his companions lifted him out of the slough, and he spit out the mud and water which filled his mouth. “Why didn’t you stand by me, as you promised?”“We expected you to make a better fight than that,” replied one of them; and it was doubtful to me whether they could assign any good reason why they had not stood by him.“I did the best I could, and you did not come near me. I’m in a pretty pickle,” sputtered Waddie, as he glanced at his soiled garments.“We’ll give it to him yet,” said one of the party, as he glanced at me securely posted on the bridge.“Where is he?” asked Waddie.I was pointed out to him, and the sight of me inflamed all his zeal again.“Come on, fellows; and stand by me this time, I wish I had my revolver here.”I was very glad he had not that formidable weapon about him, though I don’t think he could have hitme if he had fired at me; but he sometimes struck the mark by accident. Waddie took a club from the hand of one of his supporters, and rushed towards the bridge. Though he was not a master of strategy, he could not help seeing that I was well posted, and he halted suddenly before he reached the brook.“We must drive him from the bridge, where we can have fair play,” said Waddie.I did not just then see how this was to be done; but I was soon able to perceive his plan. The scion led his forces to a position on the brook above me, and, taking some stones from the shallow stream, began to pelt me with a vigor which soon rendered my place untenable. Several of the missiles hit me, though I was not much hurt by them. Under these circumstances, I was helpless for defensive purposes, for I had nothing with which to return the fire. It was useless for me to stand there, and be peppered with stones. I concluded to retreat in good order, and brought myself off without any material damage.WOLF’S FORTRESS.—Page 133.The only safe line by which I could retire was in the direction of the mansion of Colonel Wimpleton. I crossed the brook farther down, and came to arustic summer house, on the bank of the stream. It was built on a high foundation, to afford a prospect of the lake, and the only admission was through the door, which was reached by a long flight of steps. I immediately took possession of this structure, assured that I could defend the door, while its walls would protect me from the missiles of my assailants.Waddie led his forces up to my fortress, and surveyed the situation. They attempted to drive me out with stones; but they fell harmless upon the building. The besiegers consulted together, and decided to make an assault on the works. I was entirely willing they should do so, for I could knock them over with the club as fast as they came up, having all the advantage of position. Ben Pinkerton volunteered to lead the forlorn hope, and advanced with considerable boldness to the attack. I gave him a gentle rap on the head as he appeared at the door, and he fell back, unable to reach me with his stick, as I stood so much higher than he.“Better keep back,” I remonstrated with him. “If there are any broken heads, they will be yours.”Dick Bayard then attempted to climb up the railing of the stairs, so as to be on a level with me; but I knocked his fingers with my stick, and he desisted. It was plain to them, after this trial, that a direct assault was not practicable, and they retired to the ground below. Another consultation followed in the ranks of the enemy; and by this time Waddie’s friends were quite as much interested in the affair as he was himself.“I wish I had my revolver,” said the scion. “Hold on! I will go to the house and get it; you stay here, and don’t let him come down.”“Oh, no! We don’t want any pistol,” protested Ben Pinkerton. “You mustn’t shoot him!”“Why not? I would shoot him as quick as I would a cat. I wouldn’t kill him, of course; but I would make him come down, and give us fair play on the ground,” added Waddie.Fair play! Seven of them, armed with clubs, against one! That was Waddie’s idea of fair play.“No; we don’t want any pistols,” persisted Ben. “Some one might get hurt, and then we should be in a bad scrape.”“What are you going to do?” demanded the young gentleman. “Are you going to let him stay up there and crow over us? I’m wet through, and I don’t want to stay here all day. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll set the summer house on fire. That will bring him down.”This was a brilliant idea of Waddie, and I was afraid he would put it into operation, for he was reckless enough to do anything.“That won’t do,” replied the prudent Pinkerton. “We don’t want to get into any scrape.”“No; don’t set it on fire,” added Dick Bayard; and so said all of them but Waddie; for probably they foresaw that they would have to bear all the blame of the deed.“I don’t want to stay here all day,” fretted Waddie.“Put it through by daylight!” I ventured to suggest, as I sat on the upper step, listening to the interview.“He is laughing at us,” said the scion, angrily.“Let him laugh; he is safe,” replied Ben. “I’ll tell you what we can do.”“Well, what?” asked Waddie, as he cast a discontented glance at me.“Let us camp out here to-night,” continued Ben.“Camp out!” repeated several of the party, not fully comprehending the idea of the fertile Pinkerton’s brilliant mind.“Starve him out, I mean,” explained Ben. “We will stay here and keep him a close prisoner till he is willing to come down and take his licking like a man.”Stupid as this plan seemed to me, it was promptly adopted. But the enemy retired out of hearing to complete the arrangement, though they were near enough to fall upon me if I attempted to escape. I did not consider myself a match for the whole of them on the ground, and I had expected to be terribly mauled, as I should have been if my wits had not served me well.Presently I saw Waddie leave the party, and walk towards his father’s house. I concluded that he had gone to change his clothes, for his plight was as disagreeable as it could be. His companions took position near the foot of the steps, with the clubs in their hands, ready to receive me if I attempted to evacuate my fortress. I was quite comfortable,and rather curious to know what they intended to do.I waited an hour for the return of Waddie, during which time I studied the structure in which I was a prisoner, and its surroundings, in order to prepare myself for action when it should be necessary. It was plain to me that the scion was taking more time than was needed to change his clothes. I thought something had happened at the house; and in this impression I was soon confirmed by the appearance of Colonel Wimpleton, attended by two men.
WOLF’S FORTRESS.
Under the influence of the better thoughts which my good mother had suggested to me, I was willing to do better deeds. I was ready to apologize; I had done so, but I could not go down upon my knees before such a fellow as Waddie Wimpleton, or any fellow, for that matter. It was hard enough for me to say I was sorry; and I had done so for my mother’s sake, rather than my own.
“I don’t think you are very sorry for what you said,” sneered Waddie.
“I am sorry enough to apologize. I really regret that I made use of any hard expressions,” I replied.
“Then get down on your knees, and beg my pardon, as I tell you,” persisted Waddie, flourishing his stick. “If you do, I’ll let you off on part of the punishment.”
“I apologized because I had done wrong, and not because I was afraid of the punishment,” I added, still schooling my tongue to gentle speech.
“Humph!” exclaimed the scion; and my remark was based on a philosophy so subtle that he could not comprehend it.
“Go in! Go in! Give it to him!” shouted the supporting ruffians. “He’s fooling you, Waddie.”
“If you are not going to do what I tell you, look out for the consequences,” blustered the young gentleman, who still seemed to have some doubts in regard to the prudence of his present conduct.
“Waddie Wimpleton,” said I.
“Well, what do you want now?” demanded he, dropping his weapon again.
“If you strike me with that stick, you must look out for consequences. I shall defend myself as well as I know how.”
Waddie glanced at his companions.
“Hit him! What are you waiting for?” cried his friends; and I have always observed, in such cases, that it is easier to give advice than to strike the blow.
Mr. Waddie had placed himself in a position which he could not well evacuate. He evidently had no heart for the encounter which he foresaw must take place if he struck me, and perhaps he had not entire confidence in the character of the support which he was to receive. At any rate he could not help realizing that the first blows of the battle were likely to be dealt upon his own head.
“You called me a liar,” said he, working up his courage again by a new recital of his wrongs.
“I did, and apologized for it,” I replied.
“Go down on your knees, then, and say you are sorry.”
“I will not.”
“Then mind your eye,” continued Waddie, as with a sudden spring he hit me on the arm, which I had raised to ward off the blow.
I did mind my eye, and I minded his, too; for, before he could bring up his supports, I leaped upon him. Though he was of my own size and age, he was only a baby in my hands. I grasped his stick, wrenched and twisted it a few times, and then threw him over backwards into a pool of soft mud, whichI had chosen to flank my position and save me from an attack in the rear. He was half buried in the soft compound of black mud and decayed leaves which filled the hole, and his good clothes suffered severely from the effects of his disaster.
The moment the conflict commenced the supports moved up; but, before they could come into action, I had overthrown my assailant, and stood against the tree with the club in my hand. When Waddie went over backwards, a new duty seemed to be suggested to his backers; and, instead of turning on me, they proceeded to help their principal out of his uncomfortable position. Encouraged and thoroughly waked up by my victory, I think I could have thrashed the whole party; but I had not wholly escaped the influence of my mother’s teachings, and was disposed to act strictly in self-defence.
The quagmire into which Waddie had fallen was near the bank of the brook which meandered through the grove, and which had been bridged in several places, as well to add to the convenience of passers-by, as to increase the picturesque beauty of the place. I deemed it best to retreat to one of these bridges,which was not more than three feet wide, and which would enable me to defend myself from an assault to the best advantage.
“Humph! you cowards!” snarled Waddie, as his companions lifted him out of the slough, and he spit out the mud and water which filled his mouth. “Why didn’t you stand by me, as you promised?”
“We expected you to make a better fight than that,” replied one of them; and it was doubtful to me whether they could assign any good reason why they had not stood by him.
“I did the best I could, and you did not come near me. I’m in a pretty pickle,” sputtered Waddie, as he glanced at his soiled garments.
“We’ll give it to him yet,” said one of the party, as he glanced at me securely posted on the bridge.
“Where is he?” asked Waddie.
I was pointed out to him, and the sight of me inflamed all his zeal again.
“Come on, fellows; and stand by me this time, I wish I had my revolver here.”
I was very glad he had not that formidable weapon about him, though I don’t think he could have hitme if he had fired at me; but he sometimes struck the mark by accident. Waddie took a club from the hand of one of his supporters, and rushed towards the bridge. Though he was not a master of strategy, he could not help seeing that I was well posted, and he halted suddenly before he reached the brook.
“We must drive him from the bridge, where we can have fair play,” said Waddie.
I did not just then see how this was to be done; but I was soon able to perceive his plan. The scion led his forces to a position on the brook above me, and, taking some stones from the shallow stream, began to pelt me with a vigor which soon rendered my place untenable. Several of the missiles hit me, though I was not much hurt by them. Under these circumstances, I was helpless for defensive purposes, for I had nothing with which to return the fire. It was useless for me to stand there, and be peppered with stones. I concluded to retreat in good order, and brought myself off without any material damage.
WOLF’S FORTRESS.—Page 133.
WOLF’S FORTRESS.—Page 133.
The only safe line by which I could retire was in the direction of the mansion of Colonel Wimpleton. I crossed the brook farther down, and came to arustic summer house, on the bank of the stream. It was built on a high foundation, to afford a prospect of the lake, and the only admission was through the door, which was reached by a long flight of steps. I immediately took possession of this structure, assured that I could defend the door, while its walls would protect me from the missiles of my assailants.
Waddie led his forces up to my fortress, and surveyed the situation. They attempted to drive me out with stones; but they fell harmless upon the building. The besiegers consulted together, and decided to make an assault on the works. I was entirely willing they should do so, for I could knock them over with the club as fast as they came up, having all the advantage of position. Ben Pinkerton volunteered to lead the forlorn hope, and advanced with considerable boldness to the attack. I gave him a gentle rap on the head as he appeared at the door, and he fell back, unable to reach me with his stick, as I stood so much higher than he.
“Better keep back,” I remonstrated with him. “If there are any broken heads, they will be yours.”
Dick Bayard then attempted to climb up the railing of the stairs, so as to be on a level with me; but I knocked his fingers with my stick, and he desisted. It was plain to them, after this trial, that a direct assault was not practicable, and they retired to the ground below. Another consultation followed in the ranks of the enemy; and by this time Waddie’s friends were quite as much interested in the affair as he was himself.
“I wish I had my revolver,” said the scion. “Hold on! I will go to the house and get it; you stay here, and don’t let him come down.”
“Oh, no! We don’t want any pistol,” protested Ben Pinkerton. “You mustn’t shoot him!”
“Why not? I would shoot him as quick as I would a cat. I wouldn’t kill him, of course; but I would make him come down, and give us fair play on the ground,” added Waddie.
Fair play! Seven of them, armed with clubs, against one! That was Waddie’s idea of fair play.
“No; we don’t want any pistols,” persisted Ben. “Some one might get hurt, and then we should be in a bad scrape.”
“What are you going to do?” demanded the young gentleman. “Are you going to let him stay up there and crow over us? I’m wet through, and I don’t want to stay here all day. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll set the summer house on fire. That will bring him down.”
This was a brilliant idea of Waddie, and I was afraid he would put it into operation, for he was reckless enough to do anything.
“That won’t do,” replied the prudent Pinkerton. “We don’t want to get into any scrape.”
“No; don’t set it on fire,” added Dick Bayard; and so said all of them but Waddie; for probably they foresaw that they would have to bear all the blame of the deed.
“I don’t want to stay here all day,” fretted Waddie.
“Put it through by daylight!” I ventured to suggest, as I sat on the upper step, listening to the interview.
“He is laughing at us,” said the scion, angrily.
“Let him laugh; he is safe,” replied Ben. “I’ll tell you what we can do.”
“Well, what?” asked Waddie, as he cast a discontented glance at me.
“Let us camp out here to-night,” continued Ben.
“Camp out!” repeated several of the party, not fully comprehending the idea of the fertile Pinkerton’s brilliant mind.
“Starve him out, I mean,” explained Ben. “We will stay here and keep him a close prisoner till he is willing to come down and take his licking like a man.”
Stupid as this plan seemed to me, it was promptly adopted. But the enemy retired out of hearing to complete the arrangement, though they were near enough to fall upon me if I attempted to escape. I did not consider myself a match for the whole of them on the ground, and I had expected to be terribly mauled, as I should have been if my wits had not served me well.
Presently I saw Waddie leave the party, and walk towards his father’s house. I concluded that he had gone to change his clothes, for his plight was as disagreeable as it could be. His companions took position near the foot of the steps, with the clubs in their hands, ready to receive me if I attempted to evacuate my fortress. I was quite comfortable,and rather curious to know what they intended to do.
I waited an hour for the return of Waddie, during which time I studied the structure in which I was a prisoner, and its surroundings, in order to prepare myself for action when it should be necessary. It was plain to me that the scion was taking more time than was needed to change his clothes. I thought something had happened at the house; and in this impression I was soon confirmed by the appearance of Colonel Wimpleton, attended by two men.