Bob, Son of Battle
Page 11
Chapter XI. OOR BOB
M'ADAM'S pride in the great Cup that now graced his kitchen was supreme.It stood alone in the very centre of the mantelpiece, just below the oldbell-mouthed blunderbuss that hung upon the wall. The only ornament inthe bare room, it shone out in its silvery chastity like the moon in agloomy sky.
For once the little man was content. Since his mother's death David hadnever known such peace. It was not that his father became actively kind;rather that he forgot to be actively unkind.
"Not as I care a brazen button one way or t'ither," the boy informedMaggie.
"Then yo' should," that proper little person replied.
M'Adam was, indeed, a changed being. He forgot to curse James Moore; heforgot to sneer at Owd Bob; he rarely visited the Sylvester Arms, to thedetriment of Jem Burton's pocket and temper; and he was never drunk.
"Soaks 'isseif at home, instead," suggested Tammas, the prejudiced. Butthe accusation was untrue.
"Too drunk to git so far," said Long Kirby, kindly man.
"I reck'n the Cup is kind o' company to him," said Jim Mason. "Happenit's lonesomeness as drives him here so much." And happen you wereright, charitable Jim.
"Best mak' maist on it while he has it, 'cos he'll not have it forlong," Tammas remarked amid applause.
Even Parson Leggy allowed--rather reluctantly, indeed, for he was buthuman--that the little man was changed wonderfully for the better.
"But I am afraid it may not last," he said. "We shall see what happenswhen Owd Bob beats him for the Cup, as he certainly will. That'll be thecritical moment."
As things were, the little man spent all his spare moments with the Cupbetween his knees, burnishing it and crooning to Wullie:
"I never saw a fairer, I never lo'ed a dearer, And neist my heart I'll wear her, For fear my jewel tine."
"There, Wullie! look at her! is she no bonnie? She shines like atwinkle--twinkle in the sky." And he would hold it out at arm's length,his head cocked sideways the better to scan its bright beauties.
The little man was very jealous for his treasure. David might not touchit; might not smoke in the kitchen lest the fumes should tarnish itsglory; while if he approached too closely he was ordered abruptly away.
"As if I wanted to touch his nasty Cup!" he complained to Maggie. "I'dsooner ony day--"
"Hands aff, Mr. David, immediate!" she cried indignantly. "'Pertinence,indeed!" as she tossed her head clear of the big fingers that werefondling her pretty hair.
So it was that M'Adam, on coming quietly into the kitchen one day,was consumed with angry resentment to find David actually handlingthe object of his reverence; and the manner of his doing it added athousandfold to the offence.
The boy was lolling indolently against the mantelpiece, his fair headshoved right into the Cup, his breath dimming its lustre, and his twohands, big and dirty, slowly revolving it before his eyes.
Bursting with indignation, the little man crept up behind the boy. Davidwas reading through the long list of winners.
"Theer's the first on 'em," he muttered, shooting out his tongue toindicate the locality: "'Andrew Moore's Rough, 178--.' And theer agin--'James Moore's Pinch, 179--.' And agin--'Beck, 182--.' Ah, and theer's'im Tammas tells on! 'Rex, 183--,' and Rex, 183--.' Ay, but he was arare un by all tell-in's! If he'd nob'but won but onst agin! Ah, andtheer's none like the Gray Dogs--they all says that, and I say somasel'; none like the Gray Dogs o' Kenmuir, bless 'em! And we'll winagin too--" he broke off short; his eye had travelled down to the lastname on the list.
"'M'Adam's Wull'!" he read with unspeakable contempt, and put his greatthumb across the name as though to wipe it out. "'M'Adam's Wull'! Goo'gracious sakes! P-hg-h-r-r! "--and he made a motion as though to spitupon the ground.
But a little shoulder was into his side, two small fists were beatingat his chest, and a shrill voice was yelling: "Devil! devil! stan'awa'!"--and he was tumbled precipitately away from the mantelpiece, andbrought up abruptly against the side-wall.
The precious Cup swayed on its ebony stand, the boy's hands, rudelywithdrawn, almost overthrowing it. But the little man's first impulse,cursing and screaming though he was, was to steady it.
"'M'Adam's Wull'! I wish he was here to teach ye, ye snod-faced,ox-limbed profleegit!" he cried, standing in front of the Cup, his eyesblazing.
"Ay, 'M'Adam's Wull'! And why not 'M'Adam's Wull'? Ha' ye ony objectionsto the name?"
"I didn't know yo' was theer," said David, a thought sheepishly.
"Na; or ye'd not ha' said it."
"I'd ha' thought it, though," muttered the boy.
Luckily, however, his father did not hear. He stretched his hands uptenderly for the Cup, lifted it down, and began reverently to polish thedimmed sides with his handkerchief.
"Ye're thinkin', nae doot," he cried, casting up a vicious glance atDavid, "that Wullie's no gude enough to ha' his name alangside o'they cursed Gray Dogs. Are ye no? Let's ha' the truth for aince--for adiversion."
"Reck'n he's good enough if there's none better," David replieddispassionately.
"And wha should there be better? Tell me that, ye muckle gowk."
David smiled.
"Eh, but that'd be long tellin', he said.
"And what wad ye mean by that?" his father cried.
"Nay; I was but thinkin' that Mr. Moore's Bob'll look gradely writ underyon." He pointed to the vacant space below Red Wull's name.
The little man put the Cup back on its pedestal with hurried hands. Thehandkerchief dropped unconsidered to the floor; he turned and sprangfuriously at the boy, who stood against the wall, still smiling; and,seizing him by the collar of his coat, shook him to and fro with fieryenergy.
"So ye're hopin', prayin', nae doot, that James Moore--curse him!--willwin ma Cup awa' from me, yer ain dad. I wonder ye're no 'shamed to crassma door! Ye live on me; ye suck ma blood, ye foul-mouthed leech. Wullieand me brak' oorsel's to keep ye in hoose and hame--and what's yergratitude? Ye plot to rob us of oor rights."
He dropped the boy's coat and stood back.
"No rights about it," said David, still keeping his temper.
"If I win is it no ma right as muckle as ony Englishman's?"
Red Wull, who had heard the rising voices, came trotting in, scowled atDavid, and took his stand beside his master.
"Ah, _if_ yo' win it," said David, with significant emphasis on theconjunction.
"And wha's to beat us?"
David looked at his father in well-affected surprise.
"I tell yo' Owd Bob's rinin'," he answered.
"And what if he is?" the other cried.
"Why, even yo' should know so much," the boy sneered.
The little man could not fail to understand.
"So that's it!" he said. Then, in a scream, with one finger pointing tothe great dog: "And what o' him? What'll ma Wullie be doin' the while?Tell me that, and ha' a care! Mind ye, he stan's here hearkenin'!" And,indeed, the Tailless Tyke was bristling for battle.
David did not like the look of things; and edged away toward the door.
"What'll Wullie be doin', ye chicken-hearted brock?" his father cried.
"Im?" said the boy, now close on the door. "Im!" he said, with a slowcontempt that made the red bristles quiver on the dog's neck. "Lookin'on, I should think--lookin' on. What else is he fit for? I tell yo' oorBob--"
"--'Oor Bob'!" screamed the little man darting forward. "'Oor Bob'! Harkto him. I'll 'oor--' At him, Wullie! at him!"
But the Tailless Tyke needed no encouragement. With a harsh roar hesprang through the air, only to crash against the closing door!
The outer door banged, and in another second a mocking finger tapped onthe windowpane.
"Better luck to the two on yo' next time!" laughed a scornful voice; andDavid ran down the hill toward Kenmuir.