Part 8 (1/2)
[Ill.u.s.tration]
As the moments pa.s.sed and no reply was made by the inmates of the house to the epithets, Harry's squad grew bolder. Instead of contenting themselves with defacing the building, they proceeded to do all the damage possible.
The more serious mischief was begun by the barber's apprentice himself, as he threw a lump of frozen earth directly through the window, causing the splintered gla.s.s to fly in every direction, and one of the fragments struck Mrs. Richardson on the cheek with sufficient force to draw blood. Amos could no longer control his temper; shaking off his mother's detaining grasp, he flung open the outer door, and, followed closely by Jim, leaped directly into the midst of the throng.
More than one of the missiles struck him; but he was not conscious of the fact. He only saw Hardy Baker, and had no other thought than that by administering swift punishment to him the attack would be brought to an end.
Master Piemont's a.s.sistant saw his late friends making their way directly toward him, regardless of every one else, and understood their purpose.
It had not been his intention to have a personal encounter with Amos.
He had recruited his squad from the more turbulent and violent spirits gathered under the Liberty Tree, and believed it was sufficiently large to protect him. Being their leader, he supposed every member of the party would be on the alert to defend him; but in this he was mistaken.
As soon as Amos and Jim showed themselves, the shower of missiles ceased, and the mischief-makers stepped aside to give them free pa.s.sage.
”Close up here!” Hardy shouted, frantically. ”Why are you fellows backing down now? There are enough of us to flog the life out of this portion of the murderer's family! Stand by me! Are you going to allow both these boys to do as they please, without your lifting a hand?”
”Only one of us will deal with you, Hardy Baker,” Amos cried angrily, as he seized him by the collar. ”Stand back, Jim, and see that I have fair play. There's no need of your doing anything, unless this barber's gang do as he asks them.”
”Help! Help! Come here, some of you fellows! What did you promise before we left Liberty Hall?” Hardy shouted frantically, as he writhed in Amos's clutch.
One or two of the party made a movement, as if they would answer this appeal; but Jim Gray, although he had no appearance of an athlete, looked particularly dangerous as he said, sharply:
”If you are wise, you'll keep your distance. Hardy Baker brought you here to insult honest people who would scorn to have dealings with informers, even though they do chance to be of the same family. He lied to you, and you should let him attend to his own affairs. It is an even-handed battle, and both shall have fair play so far as I am concerned.”
”That is all any fellow could ask for,” one of the party cried, forgetting, in his desire to witness the encounter, that he had come on an alleged public mission. ”If you'll agree not to touch our man, we will see to it that yours has his rights.”
”That's all I want,” Jim replied, grimly, and added to Amos, who, still holding Hardy firmly by the collar, had stopped to learn what part the barber's followers proposed to take: ”Now is your time; the rest of these fellows agree to fair play, and I reckon no one will disturb you.”
Hardy Baker was terrified, as could be told by the expression on his face, and he cried, shrilly:
”Why don't some of you cowards do as you agreed, and stand by me?”
”That's what we're going to do,” the boy who had spoken with Jim replied. ”No one shall interfere, and you said it wouldn't take you five minutes to disable Amos Richardson for life. Now go ahead and do it. If any one attempts to help him, we'll pitch in.”
There was no further opportunity for the barber's apprentice to appeal to his followers.
Shaking him vigorously, as if with the idea that after such treatment he could better understand the words, Amos said, in a tone sufficiently loud for all to hear:
”I came out here simply to give you a flogging, Hardy Baker, and did not intend to waste any time about it; but so long as your friends are willing to stand by honestly, you shall have a chance to prove you can do what you boasted of being able to do.”
Then Amos released his hold of the barber's collar, in order that the latter might be in a position to defend himself.
Hardy could do no less than strike out in his own defence, for it was not possible to beat a retreat; but his efforts were as feeble as they were vain. Before five minutes had pa.s.sed Master Piemont's a.s.sistant was the most thoroughly whipped boy in the Colony of Ma.s.sachusetts, and perfectly willing to acknowledge himself such, if by so doing he could prevent a continuation of the punishment.
”I can't strike a fellow when he will no longer defend himself,” Amos said, as if in apology, after Hardy was so cowed as to remain pa.s.sive under the blows. ”I don't reckon you other fellows really knew what you were about when you came here to raise a row, so we'll let the matter end here. Until last night this barber and I were good friends, and would have been this moment, but for the fact that I refused to make a street brawler of myself, as he demanded. It is true Ebenezer Richardson is my uncle; but neither my father nor myself are of his way of thinking, as this whipped cur knows thoroughly well. I have been as ready to cry down an informer as any of you, therefore why should my father's house be attacked?”
”He told us you were hand in glove with the 'b.l.o.o.d.y backs,'” one of the party said, as he motioned toward the prostrate barber.