CHAPTER II.
"WE'RE GOING TO JOIN THE NAVY."
Old Zack Strong was not one of those men who can distinguish betweenboyish high spirits and what he would have termed "downright peskycussedness." In this latter quality, indeed, he believed both hisgrandsons--Ned, and his dead second son's offspring, Herc,--to beplentifully endowed. Not naturally bad-hearted, however, the old manhad assumed the care of the cousins on the death of their parents, buteven with his act of adoption there came the thought to his frugalmind: "They'll be a great help 'round the farm."
In his hopes in this direction the old man had not been disappointed.Both boys had entered into the work with painstaking thoroughness; butit must be admitted that to adventurous lads, the monotonous grind of aremote farm in the hills is somewhat dampening. Ever since Ned and Herchad left the district school and become, in a more thorough sense thanever, "helps" to their grandfather, the old man had chafed at theirhunting expeditions and proclivities toward baseball and other games.He could not see that pitching hay, milking, and doing chores, was notthe full-rounded end of existence for any lads.
So, when, on this bitter December afternoon, he entered the storeunexpectedly on his way back from delivering a wagon-load of grist atthe water-driven mill at Westerlo, a nearby village, his chagrin may beimagined when he discovered his two young charges occupying the centreof the scene depicted in the last chapter.
In Zack Strong's hard creed there was only one sin worse thanplaying--or "fooling," as he called it--and that was fighting.
And it was only too evident that in the latter of these heinousoffences one at least of the boys had been indulging.
Worse still, in the wrecked stove the old farmer foresaw a demand fordamages on the storekeeper's part, and there was only one thing harderto wring from Zack than a smile, and that article was money. If theaverage farmer is what may be described as "close-fisted," old Zack was"cement-fisted."
With this side-light on their grandfather's character in view, theconsternation of the boys may be understood when they met his amazedand indignant gaze resting accusingly on them.
"Mean?" stammered Hank, wiping as best he could some of the soot offhis mottled countenance and echoing the old man's last words. "It meansthat your two boys here have made a brutal and unprovoked attack on meand that----"
"And that my stove is busted to Kingdom Come!" disgustedly sputteredPaul Stevens, whose cadaverous features had been busily scanning thewreckage in the brief interval of time that had elapsed between theentrance of himself and Zack Strong and the seemingly righteouslyindignant outburst of the bully.
"Never mind your stove now," grated out the hard-featured old farmer,wishing devoutly that the stove could be "never-minded" altogether,"what I want to find out is what these boys here have been up to. Whatkind of deviltry they have been at."
"We haven't been at any deviltry, as you please to call it, grandpa,"burst out Ned, striving to keep cool, though he was burning inwardlywith indignation and humiliation.
"Eh-eh-eh?" grunted the old man incredulously, "that's fine talking,but what's all this I see? How did that young man come to be all mixedup in the stove?"
"Through no wish of his own you may be sure," chuckled theirrepressible Herc. "Say, Hank, you look like a skunk--all black andwhite, you know----"
"Silence, sir," roared his grandfather, with as near an approach to astern bass as his wheezy voice would allow. "Who started this?"
Ned remained silent. It was not his wish to tell tales, and he had nodesire to act as an informer.
"Why, Hank Harkins here started it," spoke up Si Ingalls, a youngfarmer who had formed one of the group about the demolished stove, "heslapped Ned in the jaw and Ned--rightly, too--came back at him. Am Icorrect?" he asked, turning to the others.
"Hank's face looks it," grinned Luke Bates, the village wit, regardingHank, who was quivering with fury, in an amused way, "never mix it upwith a stove, Hank," he went on, "it'll get the best of you every time."
"Is this right?" demanded old Zack, turning to his grandson as soon asthe laugh at Hank's expense subsided.
"Oh, yes, that's about the way it happened, I guess," said Ned in a lowvoice.
"What I want to know is who's going to settle for my stove," wailedPaul Stevens. "Here's a cracked draught-piece, a busted door, twolengths of stove-pipe flattened out like pancakes and soot all over afine piece of dress goods."
"Name your price," groaned old Zack, wincing as if a twinge ofrheumatism had passed through him, "but don't make it too steep," headded, cautiously, "or I won't pay it. How much, now?"
The storekeeper made a rapid mental calculation, in which his fingersand various grimaces played an important part.
"There's the stove door, say seventy-five cents; and the pipe, twolengths, a dollar; and the draught-piece--I'll have to send to New Yorkfor another, sixty cents; and the spoiled dress goods----"
"You'll only have to cut the outside edge off them," objected old Zack,his lips twitching nervously as the rising tide of expenses swamped hiscautious senses.
"Wall, that'll be a yard, anyhow," announced the storekeeper, "thatis twenty-five cents, we'll say. Two dollars thirty-five for the wholeshebang."
"Two dollars thirty-five. It's rank robbery," objected the old farmer,almost giving utterance to a groan.
"Of course I may be able to straighten out the stove pipe," admittedPaul Stevens, reluctantly, "and you are an old customer. I'll make ittwo dollars and ten cents to you."
Reluctantly old Zack drew out a battered wallet and drew from ittwo one-dollar bills, being careful not to display the rest of itscontents. Then, after much fumbling in the recesses of his clothing,he produced a small leather purse from which he drew a ten cent piece.These he tendered with an agonized expression to the storekeeper.
"Canadian," sniffed the storekeeper, regarding the bit of silver.
"It's good," objected old Zack.
"Not to me. Come, I let you off light on the stove and the other damagethem boys have done; give me a good dime."
Reluctantly old Zack took back the rejected coin and substituted forit a piece of United States silver.
"There you are," he grumbled, "those pesky boys will bankrupt me yet."
All this time the boys, standing aloof from the crowd of loungers,had regarded the scene with very different expressions. Herc's lipstrembled with suppressed laughter as he witnessed the painful operationof separating old Zack from his beloved money, while Ned's face bore athoughtful look, as if he were revolving some serious project in hismind. Hank Harkins had taken advantage of the temporary diversion fromhimself as a centre of interest to shuffle off, and was by this timewell on his way home, considering, as he went, the best way in which hecould explain his soot-smeared face and rapidly swelling eye.
A short time afterwards the boys accompanied their elder to hisspring-wagon and, as they had walked down to the store, prepared toaccompany him home.
"Look out for squalls," Herc whispered to Ned, as the two ladsunhitched the team. His warning was not ill-judged. The vials of oldZack's wrath burst with the fury of a midsummer storm above the boys'heads as soon as the wagon had clattered out of the village and wasclimbing the steep ascent to Zack Strong's farm.
"Of all the useless, idle scamps that I ever had on the farm, you arethe worst," began the querulous old man, "and then, to cap it all,you go to fighting and brawling in public and cost me two dollars andan American dime to settle it. I don't see why Paul Stevens couldn'thave taken that Canadian one. They're as good as any others, in someplaces," he went on, his mind reverting to his other grievance, "butthat's the way in this world, nothing but ingratitude everywhere youturn. I've nourished a pair of sar-pints, that's what I've done. You'rerattle-brains, both on yer."
He turned a sour enough countenance on the two lads as he spoke.
"Sort of rattlesnakes, eh?" cheerfully remarked the irrepressibleHerc. "It's no use being angry, gran'pa," he went on, "we'd finishedsplitting the last o
f that tough hickory before we came down to thevillage and, as there was nothing else to do till chore-time----"
"You spent it in disgracing yourselves, eh?" grimly rejoined old Zack."I'm tired of it, I tell you," he railed on, "and----"
"And so are we," quietly broke in Ned, whose face still wore the samethoughtful look that had come over it just before they left the store.
"What?" quavered the old man, as if he thought he had not heard aright.
"I mean 'so are we tired of it,'" repeated Ned, slowly, but in a firmvoice, "we work for you early and late, grandpa, and nothing ever comesof it but scolding and fault-finding."
"Didn't I pay two dollars ten cents for that busted stove, Ned?"complained old Zack, "and I'll swear the damage wasn't more'n oneninety-eight, and----"
"That's not the question, now," went on Ned, in the same quiet,determined voice, "as it was partly my fault that the stove wasoverturned I'll pay you back that out of my own pocket."
"What,--you ain't got no money!" exclaimed old Zack incredulously andin somewhat alarmed tones. There was a note in Ned's voice he had neverheard there before and he saw his authority melting away like snow inthe spring, "and besides, maybe I was a bit hasty, Ned. Come, we'llcall it square and you do your work right in future and we'll say nomore about it."
"I shall do only a little more work for you, gran'pa," was Ned'samazing reply, which almost caused the old man to drop his lines andfall backward off his seat.
"What's that?" he cried, and his voice fairly squeaked under the stressof his great astonishment.
"I said," calmly repeated Ned, "that I shall not do much more work foryou, grandpa, and neither will Herc here, I guess. We are going away."
It was Herc's turn to look astonished. Accustomed as he was to acceptNed's opinion in most things, this latest resolve seemed somewhatdrastic even to the impetuous red-headed youth.
"Why, you ain't got no money?" stammered old Zack, not being able tothink of anything else to say in his great amazement.
"Oh, yes, I have," quietly rejoined Ned. "I have fifty dollars saved upthat I got for skins last winter and Herc has about the same sum. Thatwill carry us a little way, I guess."
"Why, Ned, boy! Land o' Goshen, what have yer set yer mind on doin'?"gasped the farmer.
"We're going to enter the navy," announced Ned, in these same quiet,determined tones; which unmistakably meant to anyone who knew him thathis mind was made up beyond the possibility of change.
"What, out on the water?" gasped old Zack, his mind in a whirl at thissudden kicking over the traces of authority.
"I believe they usually sail the vessels of Uncle Sam's navy on thewater," chirped the irrepressible Herc, who, his first astonishmentover, had quite resolved to follow his cousin's footsteps wherever theymight lead.
The sarcasm was lost on old Zack, however. He even forgot to emit hiscustomary minute interval cry of "Geddap!" to his old team which, inconsequence, came to a dead standstill in the middle of the road.
"Of course we shall stay and help you till you get a hired man to suityou," went on Ned, with quiet sarcasm.
"Yes--yes," quavered the old man, chirruping to his stationary team,and seemingly dazed by the sudden announcement of the boys' intentions.
"In the navy--out on the water," he muttered as they drove on, "Land o'Goshen!--two dollars!--fights!--busted stoves!--the navy!"
The Dreadnought Boys on Battle Practice Page 2
