The Soldier Boy | Page 6

in Pinchbrook. If we can't cure him, we'll ride him on a rail out of the town."
"I don't know as you and I ought to get into this scrape," added Thomas, thoughtfully.
"Why not?"
"You know the squire has a mortgage on our house, and he may get ugly."
"Let him, if he likes. I'm not going to tolerate a traitor because he has a mortgage on my father's house. Besides, that is a fair business transaction; the squire gets his interest."
"Mother is afraid of him, as she is of the evil spirit."
"Women are always timid," said John, sagely.
"By George! there comes the very man himself!" exclaimed Thomas, as he discovered a horse and chaise slowly approaching.
"So it is; that old chaise looks rather the worse for the wear. It looks as though it had been through the wars."
The vehicle did bear very evident marks of hard usage. One of the shafts was broken, the dasher wrenched off, and the top stove in. The horse was covered with mud, and limped badly from the effects of his fall. The broken shaft and the harness were now plentifully adorned with ropes and old straps. In fact, the catastrophe had utterly ruined all claim which the chaise ever might have had to be considered a "hahnsome kerridge."
"There'll be fun nearer home, I reckon," said John, as he obtained his first view of the sour visage of the squire.
"Can't help it," added Thomas.
"Keep a stiff upper lip, Tom."
"I intend to do so."
"Don't say a word about to-night, Tom."
"Of course not."
When the chaise had approached near enough to enable the squire to recognize the author of his misfortunes, he stopped the horse, and got out of the vehicle, with the whip in his hand.
"Now, you young scoundrel, I will teach you to insult me and my son, and destroy my property. Stay in the chaise, Fred, and hold the horse," he added to his son.
But there was not much need of holding the horse now, for he was too lame to run fast or far. Thomas and John came to a halt; and if the squire had been a prudent man, he might have seen by the flash of their eyes, that he was about to engage in an unsafe operation.
"I am going to horsewhip you within an inch of your life, you villain, you!" roared the squire, brandishing the whip.
"No, you are not," replied Thomas, coolly.
"If you drop the weight of that lash on my brother, I'll smash your head," added John.
The squire paused, and glanced at the wiry form of the young sailor. Better thoughts, or at least wiser ones, came to his aid.
"I can bring you to your senses in another way," said he, dropping his whip, and getting into the chaise again. "You will hear from me before the week is out."
"Let him go; don't say a word, Tom," added John.
"He will prosecute me, I suppose he means by that."
"Let him prosecute and be hanged! I'll bet by to-morrow morning he will think better of it. At any rate, he will find out what the people of Pinchbrook think of him."
The boys resumed their walk, and soon reached the store, where they found the group of idlers, that always frequent shops in the country, busily engaged in discussing the affair in which Thomas had been the principal actor. As the boys entered, the hero of the Pinchbrook Battle was saluted with a volley of applause, and his conduct fully approved and commended, for a copperhead in that day was an abomination to the people.


CHAPTER III
.
TAMING A TRAITOR.
With the exception of Squire Pemberton, Pinchbrook was a thoroughly loyal town; and the people felt that it was a scandal and a disgrace to have even a single traitor within its border. The squire took no pains to conceal his treasonable sentiments, though the whole town was in a blaze of patriotic excitement. On the contrary, he had gone out of his way, and taken a great deal of pains, to condemn the government and the people of the North.
Squire Pemberton was a wealthy man, and he had always been a person of great influence in the place. He had occupied all the principal official positions in town and county. He had come to regard himself, as his townsmen were for the most part willing to regard him, as the social and political oracle of the place. What he thought in town meeting was generally the sense of his fellow-citizens, and when he expressed himself in words, his word was law.
When, on Sunday morning, with Fort Sumter in ruins, with the national flag trodden under the feet of traitors, with the government insulted and threatened, Squire Pemberton ventured to speak in tones of condemnation of the free North, the people of Pinchbrook listened coldly, at first,