Bob the Castaway | Page 5

while he made good wages, was trying to save up enough to pay for his home.
"Then I'll sue ye."
"I would not like you to do that, but I cannot afford to pay ten dollars--at least not now. I have some interest to meet this week."
"Well, maybe I might take a little less," said Mr. Hodge, as he saw a prospect of Bob's father coming to a settlement. "I'll make it eight dollars, an' ye can pay me in installments."
"I suppose that will be fair," admitted Mr. Henderson. He spoke very quietly, but he was much exercised over what had happened.
"Can ye pay me anythin' now?" asked Mr. Hodge eagerly, rubbing his shins, which, to tell the truth, were only slightly bruised and did not hurt him in the least now.
"I could give you two dollars. But first I want to ask Bob if he is responsible for this."
To his sorrow Mr. Henderson did not have much doubt of it.
"Oh, I guess he won't deny it," said the storekeeper.
"Did you do this, Bob?" inquired his father.
"I--I guess so, but I didn't mean anything."
Bob was not so happy over his prank as he had been at first.
Mr. Henderson said nothing. He took two dollars from his wallet--a wallet that did not have any too much money in it--and handed the bills to the storekeeper, who eagerly pocketed them.
"When kin ye give me some more?" he asked.
"Next week. I am sorry, Mr. Hodge, that my son did this."
"So am I. But I s'pose boys will be boys."
Mr. Hodge seemed in better mood. The truth was, he had not expected to receive any money, and as he was a sort of miser, it made him feel better to think he was going to get damages without having to pay a lawyer. In reality, not more than fifty cents' worth of molasses had run to waste.
When the storekeeper had left Mr. Henderson further questioned Bob, getting all the particulars of the trick.
"I'm sorry, dad," said Bob when he had finished his recital.
"That is what you say every time, my son. You said it after you frightened Mrs. Anderson's cow and they had to have the veterinarian for the animal, but that did not pay his bill. I had to settle for it,"
"I know, dad. I'll not do it again."
"And that's another thing you always say, Bob. Now this is getting serious. You must mend your ways. This will be quite a heavy expense to me. I was going to spend that two dollars for a new pair of shoes. Now I will have to wait."
"I'm sorry, dad."
"But that doesn't give me my shoes,"
Mr. Henderson spoke gravely, and Bob felt quite badly over what he had done, for he loved his father and mother very much, and would not intentionally pain them. The trouble was he was, like many other boys, thoughtless. He did not count the consequences when indulging in pranks.
A little later, after giving his son quite a severe lecture, and obtaining his promise to be better in the future, Mr. Henderson prepared to go to bed. Bob also retired to his room, for he felt in no mood to go out with the village boys that night.
"I'm sure I don't know what to do with Bob," said Mrs. Henderson to her husband when she was locking up the house. "I'm afraid he'll get into serious trouble."
"I hope not. I think I must punish him severely the next time he plays any tricks."
"He is too big to whip."
"I know it. I must think of some other method."
Bob fell asleep, resolving to mend his ways, or at least to play in the future only harmless tricks to which no one would object. But in the morning his good resolutions had lost some of their power, like many others made during the night.
That day in school Bob snapped several of the paper crackers, and in consequence was kept in. However, his mother was visiting a neighbor, and when he came home late that afternoon she did not see him.
That evening Ted Neefus called for Bob. They were chums of long standing.
"Let's take a walk," suggested Ted.
"Aw, that's no fun."
"What'll we do then?"
Bob thought a few seconds.
"I'll tell you," he said. "We'll put a tic-tac on Mrs. Mooney's window. She lives all alone, and she'll think it's a ghost rapping."
"Good! Come on. Have you got some string?"
"Sure."
So you see how poorly Bob remembered his promise of the night before, and with what thoughtlessness he again started to indulge in a prank--a prank which might throw a nervous woman into hysterics. Yet in this Bob was just like thousands of other boys--he "didn't mean anything." The trouble was he did not think.
So the two boys, their heads full of the project of making a tic-tac, stole quietly through