Bob the Castaway | Page 4

then went out under the apple tree where he had left the paper snappers.
"He's back quick," mused Mrs. Henderson. "I don't see how he had time to do any mischief. Perhaps he didn't play any tricks on any one this time," for Bob seldom went through the village but what he did so. However, Mrs. Henderson was mistaken, as we know.
During this time Mr. Hodge was busy wiping as much of the molasses off the floor as he could with old cloths and pieces of newspaper. While he was doing this a customer came in and inquired:
"What's the matter? Molasses barrel spring a leak, Bill?"
"Leak? No, it was that pesky Bob Henderson. Wait till I git hold of him! I'll make him smart. An' I'm goin' to sue his father."
"What did he do? Why, Bill, you walk lame. What's the matter, got rheumatiz?"
"It's all on account of Bob."
"What did he do?"
"Came here for some lard. When I was down cellar gittin' it he tied a string to the molasses barrel spigot and stretched it across the doorway."
"What, the spigot?"
"No, the string. Ye know what I mean. Then he went out on the stoop an' yelled like sin. I thought somebody was killed an' I run out. I tripped over the string an' it pulled the spigot open. I barked my shins, an' when I looked in the store, after seein' nobody was hurt, the molasses was runnin' all over. Oh, wait till I git hold of that pesky boy!"
"I s'pose if you hadn't been so curious to see who was killed it wouldn't have happened," observed Adiran Meelik.
"Curious! Ain't I got a right to run an' see who's killed in front of my store?"
"I s'pose so. But there wasn't anybody killed; only you came near being."
"That's so. I'll bring an action against Bob Henderson's father for damages for personal injuries, that's what I'll do. Then there's the wasted molasses."
"That boy plays too many tricks," observed Mr. Meelik as he took the brown sugar he had come in to purchase and walked out. "Altogether too many tricks. Still," he added with a smile, "I would like to have seen Bill stumble and watched his face when he seen that molasses runnin' to waste."
The storekeeper lost no time in putting his plan into action. But as he was a cautious man, and did not want to waste money hiring a lawyer to bring suit if he could collect damages without doing so, he decided to call on Mr. Henderson himself.
A short time after Mr. Hodge had succeeded in cleaning up as much of the molasses as possible his wife came in to relieve him of tending the store, as was her custom. She had had an early supper, and was to remain in the place until Mr. Hodge had also satisfied his appetite. By this arrangement there was no need of hiring a clerk. They lived in some rooms over the store.
"Your supper's ready, William," she said.
"I guess supper'll have to wait to-night."
"Why?"
"'Cause I'm goin' to see if I can't collect damages from Enos Henderson fer what his son done."
"What's that?"
Mr. Hodge explained, and his wife agreed with him that it would be wise first to try what a personal demand would do.
It was about six o'clock when Mr. Hodge reached the Henderson home. Mr. Henderson stopped work at five, and he was at supper when the storekeeper entered. Bob knew the object of the visit, and, making an excuse that he wanted to see one of his boy chums, was about to leave the table.
"My business is with him, too," said Mr. Hodge in rather surly tones.
"With Bob?" asked Mr. Henderson, and his heart sank. He realized that his son must have been up to some prank in which the storekeeper was involved, for Mr. Hodge was not a person to pay friendly calls.
"Yes. I've come t' see if ye'll settle my claim fer damages without a lawsuit."
"A lawsuit?" inquired Mr. Henderson, now becoming quite alarmed, while Bob's mother grew pale. Bob himself, not a little frightened as the result of his joke, sank down in a chair,
"I want damages fer personal injuries, as well as fer five gallons of molasses that run to waste."
"It couldn't have been more than three gallons," interrupted Bob. "Molasses runs awful slow, and the spigot wasn't open more than three minutes."
"It runs fast in hot weather," observed the storekeeper.
"What is it all about?" asked Mr. Henderson.
Then Mr. Hodge explained, dwelling on the pain he had suffered as a result of the fall from the string that tripped him and on the loss of the molasses.
"I want ten dollars damage," he concluded. "A dollar fer the molasses an' the rest fer personal injuries."
"I am afraid I cannot afford to pay so much," said Mr. Henderson, who,