Chapter 9 - Page 2

the barn stole away with him through the deep
grass of the meadow until we came out upon the highroad far
below. We had planned to take him to school and make him a nest
in the woodshed where he could share our luncheon and be out of
the way of peril. After a good deal of difficulty and heavy pulling
we got to the road at last. The old dog, now blind and helpless, sat
contentedly in the wagon while its wheels creaked and groaned
beneath him. We had gone but a short way in the road when we
heard the red bridge roar under rushing wheels and the familiar
yell of Abe.

'We'd better run,' said Hope, ' 'er we'll git swore at.'

I looked about me in a panic for some place to hide the party, but
Abe was coming fast and there was only time to pick up clubs and
stand our ground.

'Here!' the man shouted as he pulled up along side of us, 'where ye
goin' with that dog?'

'Go 'way,' I answered, between anger and tears, lifting my club in a
threatening manner.

He laughed then - a loud guffaw that rang in the near woods.

'What'll ye give me,' he asked leaning forward, his elbows on his
knees, 'What'll ye give me if I don't kill him?'

I thought a moment. Then I put my hand in my pocket and
presently took out my jack-knife - that treasure Uncle Eb had
bought for me - and looked at it fondly.

Then I offered it to him.

Again he laughed loudly.

'Anything else?' he demanded while Hope sat hugging the old dog
that was licking her hands.

'Got forty cents that I saved for the fair,' said I promptly.

Abe backed his horse and turned in the road.

'Wall boy,' he said, 'Tell 'em I've gone home.'

Then his great voice shouted, 'g'lang' the lash of his whip sang in
the air and off he went.

We were first to arrive at the schoolhouse, that morning, and when
the other children came we had Fred on a comfortable bed of
grass in a corner of the woodshed. What with all the worry of that
day I said my lessons poorly and went home with a load on my
heart. Tomorrow would be Saturday; how were we to get food and
water to the dog? They asked at home if we had seen old Fred and
we both declared we had not - the first lie that ever laid its burden
on my conscience. We both saved all our bread and butter and
doughnuts next day, but we had so many chores to do it was
impossible to go to the schoolhouse with them. So we agreed to
steal away that night when all were asleep and take the food from
its hiding place.

In the excitement of the day neither of us had eaten much. They
thought we were ill and sent us to bed early. When Hope came into
my room above stairs late in the evening we were both desperately
hungry. We looked at our store of