Canoe Boys and Campfires | Page 8

the tree, and came timidly forward. At the same
moment Randy crept out of the shadows and joined them.
The farmer caught sight of the boys and took a step toward them, still
keeping a tight hold on his dog. "What do you mean by trespassin' here,
you impudent young rascals?" he demanded savagely. "Get out of this
as quick as you can, or I'll give you a taste of this."
He shook his club menacingly.
"I'm very sorry if we have offended you," said Ned quietly. "We did
not suppose there would be any objection to our camping here. I don't
think we have done any damage."
"Damage!" growled the farmer. "No, I reckon not. You hain't had time
for that yet. It was only last night I run two thieving rascals off my land.
They hed a camp a little ways down the creek, an' fur two whole days
they were livin' at my expense, stealing applies, an' eggs, an' chickens,
an' whatever else they could lay their hands on. You people are all alike.
You don't have no regards fur a farmer's rights."
"I'm very sorry you have such a bad opinion of us," said Ned. "I assure
you we don't deserve it. If you will let us stay here to-night we will go
quietly away in the morning."

"No," snarled the farmer. "You can't stay. I won't have it. Pack up at
once and git out. And mind you don't stop anywhere within half a mile.
I own the land that fur on both sides of the creek."
Just then a diversion was created by the dog. He tore loose from his
master and rushed at Nugget, who had meanwhile crawled out from the
fallen canvas, and was standing with open mouth and eyes, listening
eagerly to the conversation.
"Here, Bowser," shouted the farmer sternly. "Come here, I say."
The brute reluctantly obeyed, while Nugget sought shelter in a young
tree.
The angry man turned to the three boys--for Clay had by this time
joined the others.
"Get out as quick as you can," he resumed. "I can't stand here all night."
For an instant no one replied. Ned was bent on making another appeal,
and was thinking how he could best word it. The chances were that a
little persuasion would have induced the farmer to relent, and permit
the boys to remain where they were until morning.
But Randy's unfortunate temper blazed up just then, and made a breach
that was too wide to be healed.
"It's a confounded shame to turn us off at this time of night," he
muttered angrily. "I wouldn't treat a dog that way. If this is a sample of
country breeding I'm glad I don't--"
"Keep quiet, Randy," whispered Ned; "you're only making things
worse."
The warning came too late.
"You audacious sauce box," cried the farmer. "I'll learn you manners.
Take that--and that."

He seized Randy by the collar, and cuffed him soundly on the ears
three or four times. Then he dropped him and turned to the others.
"Now git out o' here, or I'll treat you-uns the same way," he snarled.
Randy was boiling with rage, but he dared not open his mouth again.
Ned and Clay realized that further entreaty was now useless. Without a
word they began to pack up, and were finally assisted by Randy and
Nugget.
The farmer stood at one side, watching the operation keenly. In a brief
space of time the tent and the unwashed dishes were tumbled into the
hatches. Then the boys pushed the canoes into the water, and took their
seats.
The farmer came down to the shore to see them off.
"Mind what I told you," he said; "no stoppin' within a good half mile."
"Don't say a word," whispered Ned.
His companions wisely obeyed, and in utter silence they paddled out
from the shore and headed down stream. Soon a curve in the channel
hid from view the dying embers of the campfire and the twinkle of the
farmer's lantern.
"Wouldn't I like to get square with that old curmudgeon!" exclaimed
Randy; "my ears sting yet. For half a cent I'd go back and trample down
his grain or break his fences."
"I wish you'd poison the dog," drawled Nugget. "The brute gave me a
horrid fright. The falling of the tent was all that saved me from being
chewed up."
"See here, Randy," said Ned in a grave tone. "If you had kept your
temper down and your mouth shut, things would have turned out all
right. A little reasoning would have pacified that farmer. I thought you
had more sense. You heard what the man said, didn't you?

"Two men--tramps or fishermen, probably--had been camping on his
land, and doing all the damage they could,