Burr Junior

by George Manville Fenn

  CHAPTER TWENTY.

  Nearly a week had gone by before I saw Lomax, and of course there hadbeen no more riding lessons. Mr Rebble had given us our impositions,and we had taken our punishment patiently enough, for, as the smartingand pain went off, we could not help feeling proud and satisfied. Theboys had all turned wonderfully friendly, and I was evidently a greatauthority. In fact, I had completely succeeded to Burr major's thronein the boys' estimation, while he went about the place almost alone,Hodson being the only fellow who tried to associate with him.

  As for the Doctor, he never alluded to the encounter again.

  The week, then, had passed, and Mercer and I had nearly grownrespectable again, when one night, as we were going to bed, my companionturned to me.

  "I say," he whispered, "let's get up early to-morrow morning, and go andsee old Lom."

  I shook my head.

  "I've had lessons enough in boxing," I said; "I don't want to fight anymore."

  "I didn't mean a lesson," said Mercer. "I want to go and tell him allabout how we got on."

  I agreed that I should like to do that; and I awoke at sunrise, rousedMercer, and, leaving the other boys sleeping, we started for the lodge.

  "Oh, I say, what a lovely morning!" cried Mercer. "Look at the dew onthe leaves; it's all colours like a rainbow. When are we going fishingagain? and I want some birds to stuff; and to go rabbiting, andcollecting, and all sorts, and we seem to have done nothing lately."

  "Hallo, Magglin!" I cried, as we turned a corner, and came suddenlyupon that individual, looking as if he had just come from the big yard.

  "Why, what are you doing here?" said Mercer.

  "No sir; on'y wish I was. Just came up to see if the gardener's about,and he'd give me a job."

  "You know he wouldn't," I said. "The Doctor will not have you about theplace again."

  "And it's very hard," he whined. "Everybody's agen me, and takes'vantage of me, even young gents as owes me money and won't pay."

  "Why, who owes you money, Magg?"

  "You do, sir; four shillin', which I wouldn't ask you for, but--"

  "I don't, Magg; I paid you everything I owed you," cried Mercer.

  "Oh no, sir; don't you go for to say that which you know aren't true.It's four shillin', and I wouldn't have asked you, only I'm that hungryas never was."

  "But I don't owe you anything; do I, Frank?"

  "No; he paid you," I said.

  "Oh, sir! Master Burr junior knows as it's wicked to tell a lie. Ilikes mates to stick up for one another, but it ain't right to get atrampling down of the pore. Do pay me, Master Tom Mercer. It's fourshillin'."

  "I don't owe you a penny, Magg; and you're a cheat."

  "Nay, sir, that I aren't. Well, pay me two on it, and I'll go ontrusting you the rest."

  "But I'm sure I paid you everything I owed you, Magg."

  "Oh no, sir. That's the way with you young gents. You forgets, that'swhat you does. I've lost lots o' money through the Doctor's boys; andit's very hard on a pore fellow who's trying his best to get a honestliving, but as every one's agen."

  "Ah, that's all gammon, Magg!" cried Mercer. "See how you left us inthe lurch over our ferreting."

  "I was obliged to, sir; every one's agen me so. Nobody believes in me.Do pay me the two shillin', sir."

  "I won't. It's all humbug, and you don't deserve it," cried Mercer.

  "There, hark at him, Master Burr junior! Aren't he hard on a porefellow, who was always doing him kindnesses? Look at the times I've satup o' nights to ketch him rats and mice or mouldy-warps. Didn't I climband get you two squirls, and dig out the snake from the big bank foryou?"

  "Yes; and cut his tail off with the spade," cried Mercer. "You spoiledhim."

  "Well, I couldn't help that, sir; and I must go now, 'fore the gardenercomes along."

  "Why, you said you wanted to see him."

  "So I did, sir; but I don't think I will. Everybody's so agen me now.Pay me the two shillin' you owe me."

  "I won't. I don't owe you a penny."

  "Then pay a shilling of it now, sir. I wouldn't ask you, sir, but I amso hungry, sir."

  "Let's give him a shilling, Tom," I said; "I'll be half."

  "Oh, very well," cried Mercer; and as I was banker that time, I placed ashilling in the man's very dirty hand.

  "Thank-ye, sir," he said. "Then that makes three left, but I won't askyou for them to-day."

  "That's the worst of getting in debt," said Mercer, "and not keepingaccount of it. I know I've bought things of him, and he has made me payfor 'em over and over again. I wonder what he was doing about here sosoon."

  We watched Magglin go off in a furtive way, with his head down and hisback bent, so that people should not see him above the hedge, and thenturned along down the path, with the gilt hands and figures of the clocklooking quite orange in the morning sun. In a few minutes after, wecould smell tobacco smoke, and found Lomax bending his stiff back overone of the beds in his garden, which he was busily digging.

  "Ah! Mornin', young gentlemen," he shouted. "Come for a quiet lesson?"

  "Not this morning, Lomax," cried Mercer.

  "Going for a walk, then?"

  "Only as far as here," I replied, looking at him merrily.

  "Eh? What? Why, hallo!" he cried. "I didn't know. They said you wereunder punishment for something, but I didn't know what. Why, yes: bothof you. Look at your eyes. You've been fighting!"

  I nodded, and Mercer laughed.

  "We've come to tell you all about it."

  Lomax drove his spade down into the ground and left it standing in thebed.

  "Here, come along," he cried excitedly, and he led the way into thelodge, placed chairs for us, and re-lit his pipe, before standingsmoking with his back to the fire. "Now then," he cried, "let's haveit."

  We described our encounter, and the old soldier laughed and chuckledwith satisfaction.

  "Yes, that's it," he cried, as we came to an end, first one and then theother carrying on the thread of the narration to the conclusion."That's science; that is just the same as with a well-drilled regiment,which can beat a mob of fifty times its size. Well, I'm glad you won,and were such good pupils. Shows you remembered all I taught you. Nowtake my advice, both of you. Don't you fight again till you areregularly obliged."

  "Not going to," I said.

  "That's right, boy. You'll be like a man now who has got a blunderbussin his house. Thieves all about know that he has got one, and so theyleave him alone. Well when are you going to have another ridinglesson?"

  "Let's begin again at once," I said; and he promised to send or go downto the General's, to ask the groom to bring up the horse in the morning.

  "I'll go myself if I can," said Lomax, "and ride him up pretty quickly.He'll have had such a rest that he'll be quite skittish."

  All this being settled, and it being yet early, we had time for a walk,and the discovery of sundry objects, which Mercer looked upon astreasures, and carefully placed in boxes and pieces of paper.

  The first was an unhappy-looking stag beetle which seemed to have beenin the wars, for one of its horns was gone, while not a dozen yardsfarther on we came upon a dissipated cockchafer, with a dent in hishorny case, and upon both of these Mercer pounced with delight,transferring them to a flat tin paste-blacking box, inside which wecould hear them scratching to get out.

  The next thing to attract his attention was a fat worm, which, after acrawl in the cool, dewy night, had lost his way back to his hole, andwas now crawling slowly by the roadside, with more sand sticking to himthan could have been comfortable.

  "Oh, what a big one!" cried Mercer. "I say, I must have him."

  "For a bait for an eel or carp?" I said.

  "No. To preserve."

  "Let the poor thing be," I cried, and, thrusting a piece of stick underthe worm, I sent it flying amongst the wet grass.

  "Ugh! you cruel wretch!" cried Mercer.

  "Come, t
hat's nice," I said. "Better than letting you put it in a box,and carrying it in your hot pocket to kill."

  "I shouldn't kill it, I should keep it in a pot of earth."

  "Which would dry up, and the poor thing would crawl out and be troddenupon. Come along."

  But he would not come along, for Tom Mercer was a true naturalist atheart, and found interest in hundreds of things I should have passedover. For instance, that morning, as we strolled a little way along thelane, we stopped to peer over the gate into a newly ploughed field atsome round-looking birds which rose directly with a loud whirr, and thenwent skimming along, to glide over the hedge at the bottom anddisappear.

  "Partridges," cried Mercer. "Daresay they've got a nest somewhere notfar from here. Oh, I do wish we had bought Magglin's gun. It is such ahandy one. You see we could keep it up in the loft, and take it topieces and bring it out without any one knowing, and shoot our own birdsto stuff."

  "Mustn't shoot partridges. They're game," I said.

  "Oh, I don't know," he replied. "We shouldn't want them to eat, only tostuff, and--Hallo, look there! I haven't found one of those for ever solong."

  He climbed over the gate, and picked up something cream-coloured fromthe hollow between two furrows.

  "What is it?" I said, as he came back.

  "Worm-eater," and he opened his hand.

  "Why, it's a slug," I said. "Throw the nasty slimy thing away."

  "'Tisn't slimy," he said, as I looked on with disgust at him poking thelong-shaped creamy creature with one finger, as it lay in the palm ofhis left hand. "You feel it. Quite cool and dry."

  "I'm not going to touch the nasty thing," I cried. "And what do youmean by a worm-eater?"

  "Mean he's one. See how long and thin he is. That's so that he cancreep down the worm-holes and catch the worms and eat 'em."

  "Nonsense! Slugs live on lettuces and cabbages, and other greenthings."

  "These don't," said Mercer quietly; "they live on worms."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because my father told me, and I've kept 'em in boxes and fed 'em withworms."

  "Well, throw it away, and come along; we ought to be getting back now."

  "Yes, so as to have time to go up to the museum first," he replied, buthe did not throw away his last find. That was tucked into a pill-box,with the promise that I should see it eat a live worm that night.

  We turned back and took the side lane which would lead us round by thekeeper's cottage.

  "Let's see what Bob has got stuck up on the barn side," said Mercer. "Idaresay there'll be something fresh. He always says he'll save me allthe good things he shoots, but he forgets and nails them on. Come onthrough the wood."

  "But we shall get our feet so wet," I said, as Mercer jumped the ditch.

  "That we won't. It will be drier here."

  I followed him, and, knowing his way well, Mercer took me by a short cutamong the trees, which brought us just to the back of the keeper'scottage, where dozens of the supposed enemies of the game were gibbeted.Jays, hawks, owls, little falcons, shrikes, weasels, stoats, andpolecats.

  "There," said Mercer, pointing, "look at that beautiful fresh jay. Hemight have let me--"

  Mercer stopped short, for we heard Polly Hopley's voice speaking loudly,evidently at the front of the cottage.

  "I don't want it, and I won't have it. Give it to some one else."

  "No, I shan't," said a harsh voice, which we knew at once as Magglin's."I bought it o' porpos for you, and you've got to wear it."

  "Then I shan't, and if you come talking to me again like that, I shalltell father."

  "No, you won't."

  "Indeed and I shall, and the sooner you go the better. He isn't faroff."

  "Yes, he is," said Magglin, "and won't be back for hours."

  "How do you know?"

  "Because I watched him."

  "Yes, that's what you poaching chaps always do, watch the keeper tillhe's out of the way," said Polly sharply.

  "Don't call me a poacher, Polly."

  "Yes, I shall; and that's what you are."

  "Come away," I whispered; "don't let's stop listening."

  "We can't help it, without going all the way back."

  "Poachers always make the best keepers, Polly, and I'm going to be akeeper now, and marry you."

  "Are you, indeed?" said the girl indignantly. "That you just aren't,and if you ever dare to call me Polly again, I'll throw a bucket o'water over you."

  "Not you," said Magglin. "I say, do have it. It's real gold."

  "I don't care if it's real silver!" cried Polly. "I've got brooches ofmy own, thank you, and I'll trouble you to go."

  "'Tarn't good enough for you, I suppose. Well, I'll bring you somethingbetter."

  _Bang_.

  The cottage door was closed violently. Then we heard footsteps, whichceased after a minute, and we went on out toward the lane.

  "Make haste!" I said; "it must be getting late."

  "Ah," said Mercer, "if I'd got a watch like old Eely's, we could tellthe time."

  "And as you haven't, we must guess it," I said. "Look!"

  Mercer turned at my words, for he was looking back to see if PollyHopley was visible at the cottage door, the news we had heard of herfather being away robbing us of any desire to call.

  There, about fifty yards away, with his back to us, was Magglin, rubbingsomething on his sleeve. Then he breathed upon it, and gave it anotherrub, before holding it up in the sunshine, and we could see that it wasbright and yellow, possibly a brooch.

  The next minute the poacher had leaped into the wood and passed amongthe trees.

  "Oh, what a game!" said Mercer, as we walked away. "If Bob Hopleyknows, he'll lick old Magglin with a ramrod. There, come on."

  We reached the school in good time, only two or three of the boys beingabout, and spent the next half-hour turning over Mercer'smelancholy-looking specimens of the taxidermist's art, one of the mostwretched being a half finished rabbit, all skin and tow.

  "Well, I would burn that," I said. "It does look a brute."

  "Burn it? I should think not," he cried indignantly. "It looks queer,because it isn't finished. I'm going to make a natural history scene ofthat in a glass case. That's to be a rabbit just caught by a weasel,and I shall have the weasel holding on by the back of its neck, and therabbit squealing."

  "Where's your weasel?"

  "Oh, I shall get Magglin or Bob Hopley to shoot me one some day. WishI'd got a gun of my own!"

  "You're always wishing for guns and watches, or something else youhaven't got," I said, laughing.

  "Well, that's quite natural, isn't it?" cried Mercer good-humouredly."I always feel like that, and it does seem a shame that old Eely shouldhave tail coats and white waistcoats and watches, and I shouldn't. But,I say, Frank, he can't fight, can he?"

  "No," I said, "but don't talk about it. I hate thinking of it now."

  "I don't," said Mercer. "I shall always think about it when I come uphere, and feel as I did then, punching poor old Dicksee's big fat head.I say, won't it do him good and make him civil? Look here," hecontinued, making a bound and pointing to a knot on the rough floorboards, "that's the exact spot where his head came down whop."