At the Little Brown House

by Edward Stratemeyer

  CHAPTER XIII

  PEACE GETS EVEN

  "Peace, come here, I want to talk with you," called Mr. Hartman, leaningover the fence and beckoning to the child at work in her melon patch,measuring the mottled green fruit thickly dotted through the vines.

  "It's grown two inches since I measured it last," said the brown-eyedgardener to herself, leaving her task to see what the man wanted. "HereI am."

  "Do you know what kind of a mess you have got me into now?"

  Peace looked her surprise, and answered saucily, "You don't fool me anymore, my friend. You've teased me so often that it is an old story now.I know just what to 'xpect when I meet you."

  At any other time he would have been delighted with this reply, butunder the circumstances--for he was really much disturbed over herlatest prank--her jaunty, don't-care air nettled him, and he saidsharply, "_This_ is no joking matter, Miss Greenfield, I can tell youthat! Why did you tie red rags all over my pasture fence?"

  "So's to keep the deacon's bull busy. We couldn't get those berries anyother way."

  "Well, I guess you succeeded. He broke one horn off and pretty nearskinned himself, I judge. The only wonder is that he didn't tear thefence down and get loose."

  "As long as he didn't, I shouldn't care about his horns," answered Peacewith provoking indifference. "The deacon said I could have all theberries I could get, and he didn't say how I was to get them, either. Ithought and thought, and I couldn't see any way out but the red flags.It worked beau--ti--fully. We got two buckets chock-full!"

  "Yes," groaned Mr. Hartman; "and got old Skinner red hot at me! I signeda note a year or two ago for a friend of mine, expecting by this timethat he would be on his feet and able to take care of it, but he isn't,and I've got to settle. Where the money is coming from is more than Ican tell. It took all my ready cash to build that new barn, and oldSkinner is so blamed mad that he won't give me any more time. And allthis fuss on account of those berries. Plague take the old bushes, andyou, too, you little rascal!"

  Peace drew herself up haughtily and with eyes flashing fire, demanded,"Do you mean that?"

  "Every word. I'd just like the chance to give you a good trouncing."

  He was not in earnest, but he looked so harsh and stern that Peace fora moment trembled in her shoes. Then all her natural childish passionwas aroused, and stamping her foot, she declared wrathfully, "I'll notbe friends with you any longer. You said I could have the berries, andthe deacon said I could have all I could get. You aren't being squarewith me, and I won't have anything more to do with you." She turned onher heel and flung herself indignantly across the garden to the road,leaving Mr. Hartman still leaning against the fence, lost in thought.

  The forest was her favorite retreat in times of trouble, but today thecool shadows and whispering trees did not soothe her, and afterwandering about until the afternoon began to wane, she started for home,still wrathful and passionate, for she felt that Mr. Hartman had beenvery unfair in his treatment of her.

  While she was still some distance from the little brown house, acarriage drove up to their gate, and stopped, but she did not recognizethe rig, nor could she make out who had alighted; and for the timebeing, her rage was lost in her greater curiosity. "Wonder who it canbe," she said to herself. "It isn't the doctor's horse, nor the Judge'sbuggy, and that woman is too little for Mrs. Lacy or Mrs. Edwards. She'sgot a big bundle. Maybe it's the Salvation Army bringing us some oldduds like they did the German family last week. But s'posing it was somerich aunt or grandmother we didn't know we had. It's awfully hard not tohave any relations like other folks. I am going through oldCross-Patch's cornfield, 'stead of running clear around by the road."

  She crawled between the strands of barbed wire and ran swiftly down therows of rustling, whispering, silken corn, thinking only of theunexpected visitors at home, until a big barn loomed up before her,shining in its newness. Then she stopped abruptly, having suddenlyremembered her grievance.

  "He _isn't_ square!" she cried. "I'd like to fight him good. I'll geteven with you some day, Mr. Hardman! Bet he's going to paint his oldbarn. Here is a whole ocean of red paint in this pail, and there is astack of brushes. I--I'm going--to tell--him what I think of him in redpaint. Yes, sir, I'm going to do it this very minute!"

  All thought of the mysterious visitor at home had vanished, all thoughtof the consequences were stifled, and choosing the smallest brush in theheap beside the pail, she began daubing scrawly, tipsy letters acrossthe new, white boards: _Mister Hardman isnt square_.

  "There!" she breathed, as the last straggling "r" was finished. "I'llbet that makes him mad, but maybe next time he won't blame me for hisold fusses. He _said_ I could have those raspberries."

  She dipped the brush into the paint once more, made a few little redspots below the printed letters, and labelled them _raspberries_ forfear they might not otherwise be recognized. Then dropping the brushback where she had found it, she skipped off home, feeling anuncomfortable sense of guilt and shame in her heart for having wreakedher revenge in such a manner.

  At the gate Allee met her, shouting, "Mrs. Strong is here with the baby,and she's going to stay for supper. Elva Munson brought her in their newbuggy. Come see Glen. We've hunted all over for you, and even blew thehorn."

  The excited child danced up the path, and Peace followed, forgetting hermean prank in her pleasure at seeing her beloved friends. Nor did sheremember any more about it until the next morning, when, seated on theshed-roof, under the overhanging boughs of a great elm, she saw Mr.Hartman striding angrily up the path to the kitchen door. Then her heartgave a great thump and seemed to sink clear to her toes, as she thoughtof her miserable method of getting even. Her passion had subsided duringthe night, and try as she would, she could now think of no justifiableexcuse for her mean act.

  Gail answered the imperative knock, and Peace heard him demandwrathfully, "Where is Peace?"

  "Somewhere around the place. She was under the maple there at thecorner a few moments ago. Is something wrong? Has she been annoying youagain?"

  "Annoying me? She has daubed letters all over the back of my new barn. Ishall have to paint the whole building now, and it isn't very funnybusiness. If I had got hold of her when I first saw her work, I'd havegiven her a thrashing she wouldn't have forgotten in one while. You willwhip that child like she deserves, or pay for the damage she hasdone,--one or the other, and I mean it, too!" Without waiting for herreply, he started down the path again, leaving Gail white-faced anddistressed in the kitchen door.

  As soon as he was out of sight Peace slid from her perch to the groundbelow, deserting the corncob doll she had been dressing, and scurriedaway to the barn loft to face the new and undreamed-of situation. Alicking or pay for the damage done! Why had she been so thoughtless andmean? She might have known that Gail would be the one to suffer. Shehated herself, as she always did after her mischievous pranks, but thatdidn't help matters any. She must take her medicine. There was no moneyto settle for her wanton mischief; it would have to be the licking.

  "I wonder whether she'll use a shingle or her shoe," she thoughtnervously, making ready to descend and brave Gail's displeasure, whenCherry's head appeared on the ladder, and the older girl announcedexcitedly, "Now you've done it, Peace Greenfield! Mr. Hartman is as madas a hornet about your painting his barn, and he says Gail must eitherwhip you hard, or pay for it. There isn't any money to pay--"

  "Then I s'pose I'll have to take the licking," answered Peace with agreat show of indifference, though the pounding of her heart nearlystifled her.

  "But Gail says she can't lick you, and even Faith has backed out, thoughat first she said she would give it to you good."

  Here was an unlooked-for state of affairs--no money, and no one willingto use the rod, though she undoubtedly deserved it.

  "What are you going to do about it?" asked Cherry curiously.

  "Lick myself likely," retorted Peace sarcastically. "You better lugthose eggs up to the doctor's. I've d'livered my
bunch."

  Cherry vanished as quickly as she had come, and as the sound of herfootsteps died away in the distance, Peace slid down the ladder. Butinstead of going to the house for an interview with Gail, she slippedthrough the garden, crawled under the fence, and presented herself atthe door of the new barn where Mr. Hartman, still in a blaze of anger,was at work.

  "What do you want here, you tormented rascal?" he yelled in fury,shaking a hazel switch threateningly at her.

  "I came to get licked," she answered steadily, though quaking inwardly.

  "Wh-at?" he gasped in unbelieving amazement.

  "I heard what you said to Gail about paying or licking me, and shehasn't got any money to pay for my meanness, and she says--she says shecan't whip me; so I've come to you for it."

  She really did not expect him to punish her in that manner, forordinarily he was not a hard-hearted man; but in view of Peace'smisdemeanor, Gail's hesitation angered him only the more, and catchingthe child by her shoulder, he gave her a dozen sharp, stinging lasheswith his switch, then released her, thoroughly ashamed of himself.

  He expected her to cry and scream, but she bit her lips, blinked herbrown eyes rapidly to keep the tears back, and stood like a statue untilhe dropped his stick. Then choking back the sobs in her throat, shefaced him with the curt demand, "Give me a receipt, please."

  "A--a what?"

  "A receipt. Gail says we should never settle a bill without getting areceipt."

  "What do you want of a receipt?"

  "So's I can show Gail that this bill is settled."

  "Aha!" he mocked. "You are afraid Gail will repent and give you anotherthrashing, are you?"

  "No, I'm not! But I want to be sure you don't try to c'llect twice."

  He stared at her open-mouthed, too hurt for words; and she, unaware thatshe had deeply offended him, urged impatiently, as she rubbed hersmarting shoulders, "Hurry up! Write it on a piece of paper, so's I canhave it to keep always. Haven't you got any in your pocket?"

  Mechanically he searched his pockets, drew forth a scrap of an envelope,wrote the receipt she demanded, and handed it to her gravely. Sheaccepted it as gravely, spelled it through, and turned to go, sayingpiously, "Thank you, Mr. Hardman. I hope you will get your reward inheaven." She meant this in all reverence, thinking only of the receipthe had given her, but he thought she was sarcastically referring to thewhipping she had suffered at his hands; and with a queer tightening ofhis throat, he returned to his work, while she hurried homeward with herprecious bit of paper.

  "Here is Mr. Hardman's receipt, Gail," she announced, briefly, enteringthe kitchen where the two older girls were still discussing the newproblem.

  "Where did you get the money!" asked Faith severely.

  "I took the licking," was the short answer.

  "Took the licking! From whom!"

  "Mr. Hardman."

  "Do you mean to say that Mr. Hardman whipped you!"

  "Yes, I do. I went over and told him to."

  "Did it hurt?" whispered Allee, with eyes brimming full of sympathy.

  "It might have been worse, s'posing he had used a piece of iron insteadof a stick."

  Profound silence reigned in the little room. Then Gail said abruptly,"Come upstairs with me. I want to see you alone."

  Peace glanced apprehensively at the pale face, which looked unusuallystern and severe, and said, "That is a sure-enough receipt, but if youdon't b'lieve it, you can ask Mr. Hardman about it."

  "I am not doubting your story in the least," answered the big sister,smiling in spite of herself, "but I want to talk to you, dear."

  When Gail said "dear," she was never angry, so, without furtherhesitation, Peace followed her to the small room under the eaves,wondering what was coming next. Gail seated herself in the rickety chairby the window, and drawing the small girl down into her lap, she asked,"Now what is all this trouble about? Tell sister everything."

  So Peace related the story of the raspberries and her anger at theirneighbor, which had led to the painting of the barn.

  "What did you write on the building?" questioned Gail when Peace pausedat this point in her recital.

  "Just the truth. I said, 'Mr. Hardman isn't square.' Then, so's he wouldknow what he wasn't square about, I made a lot of raspberries under theprinting."

  "Peace! After Mr. Hartman has been so kind to us! What do you think of alittle girl who will do a thing like that!"

  "At first I thought she was all right," answered the candid maiden. "Butnow I've changed my mind, and I guess she was pretty bad when she didit. Though he needn't have said what he did to me. He told me we couldhave the berries."

  "At the same time he warned you about Mr. Skinner's bull."

  "Yes, and I warned Mr. Skinflint--I mean Mr. Skinner."

  "Mr. Skinner is a hot-tempered man, and I am afraid if the Hartmans owehim money, as you say, he will make it very uncomfortable for them."

  "Maybe I better go see old Skinflint--I mean Mr. Skinner--and tellhim--"

  "No, indeed!" cried Gail in alarm. "You have done damage enough already.Promise me that you won't say anything to him about it, Peace."

  "I promise. I ain't anxious to see him anyway, only I thought if itwould do any good I would go and tell him how it happened. I am awfullysorry now."

  "Then don't you think you better apologize to Mr. Hartman?"

  "Wasn't the licking a napology enough?"

  "The whipping only settled your account. It didn't say you were sorry.And it was wrong to tell him that you hoped he would get his reward inheaven."

  "Why?" cried Peace in genuine astonishment. "That's what the lamepeddler woman always tells you when you buy a paper of needles or pins."

  "That is different. She means what she says. The words are no idlemockery to her. Every penny she can earn, helps her that much, and sheis truly grateful--"

  "And I am truly grateful for my receipt, too! It isn't every man thatwould give me one. Old Skinner now--"

  "Oh, Peace!"

  "But, Gail, dear, I wasn't mocking him. I wanted him to know that I knewhow much that receipt was worth. S'posing he hadn't written it, howwould you have known that I had settled that fuss?"

  Gail gave up in despair. She never could argue with this small sister,who so sadly needed a mother's wisdom to keep her sweet and good; so sheabruptly ended her lecture by gently insisting, "Mr. Hartman deservesyour apology. What if he had made us pay for the damage you did, or hadhad you arrested? He was good to let you off with just a licking, Peace,even if you do think it was hard punishment. If you are going to be abad girl, you must expect whippings."

  "I don't think he likes me any more. He may chase me home before I canapologize," suggested the unhappy culprit, with hanging head.

  "I guess not," smiled Gail behind her hand. "Try it and see."

  "Well," sighed miserable Peace, "I s'pose I must, then."

  She reluctantly descended the stairs again, and disappeared down thepath toward the Hartman house, wishing with all her heart that theground would swallow her up before she had to meet the enemy. Suddenly away out of the dilemma presented itself. She searched hastily throughher pockets for paper and pencil, and folding both among the clutter,she wrote her apology on a ragged, dirty scrap, and carried it to thegreen house, intending to leave it on the doorstep and hurry away, butas she peered cautiously around the corner of the shed she saw Mrs.Hartman sitting on the porch, and retreated, murmuring, "Oh, dear, Is'pose I'll have to say it to him after all. I _might_ pin it to thebarn door, or--maybe 'twould be better if I fastened it beside thepainting. That's what I'll do!"

  She stole away to the barn, tacked the paper to the new boards, and wasabout to depart when her eyes chanced to fall upon her sprawlingdecorations of the previous day; and she halted, horrified at theglaring scarlet letters. "Mercy! How they look! No wonder Mr. Hartmangave me such a tre--men--jous switching. The paint is still here. Iwill cover it all up."

  The big brush did the work this time, and in a brief period
a wide,brilliant stripe of red hid the uneven letters from sight. But somehowMr. Hartman did not think the barn had been improved very much when hefound it, and was wrathfully; setting out in search of the artist whenthe fluttering paper caught his eye.

  "She's a great one for notes," he muttered, jerking the scrawl down,half impatiently, half amused. "What does she say this time? Whew!"Involuntarily he whistled a long-drawn-out whistle, for this is whatPeace had written:

  "I ipolijize for painting your barn cause Gale says I otto and anyway I didn't know it was going to look so bad so Ive erased the letters with some more paint but I still feel the same way about the raspberries. Also I hope you don't get your reward in Heaven.

  Peace Greenfield.

  "P.s. Gale said I should come myself and say this but I thot it was safest to rite as long as youre still mad."