Part 28 (1/2)
”You were evidently mistaken, for I see him just across the room there,”
said Cameron quietly.
”Oh! is he a friend of yours?” enquired the red-faced man.
”No, I don't know him at all, but Tim does, and Tim wants him,” said Cameron, beginning to push his way through the crowd towards the vociferating Haley, who appeared to be on the point of backing up some of his statements with money, for he was flouris.h.i.+ng a handful of bills in the face of the young man Sam, who apparently was quite willing to accommodate him with the wager.
Before Cameron could make his way through the swaying, roaring crowd, the red-faced man slipped from his side, and in a very few moments appeared at a side door near Tom Haley's corner. Almost immediately there was a shuffle and Haley and his friends disappeared through the side door.
”h.e.l.lo!” cried Cameron, ”there's something doing! We'll just slip around there, my boy.” So saying, he drew Tim back from the crowd and out of the front door, and, hurrying around the house, came upon Sam, the red-faced man, and Haley in a lane leading past the stable yard. The red-faced man was affectionately urging a bottle upon Haley.
”There they are!” said Tim in an undertone, clutching Cameron's arm.
”You get him away and I'll hitch up.”
”All right, Tim,” said Cameron, ”I'll get him. They are evidently up to no good.”
”What's yer name?” said Tim hurriedly.
”Cameron!”
”Come on, then!” he cried, dragging Cameron at a run towards his father.
”Here, Dad!” he cried, ”this is my friend, Mr. Cameron! Come on home.
I'm going to hitch up. We'll be awful late for the ch.o.r.es and we got them groceries to git. Come on, Dad!”
”Aw, gwan! yer a cheeky kid anyway,” said Sam, giving Tim a shove that nearly sent him on his head.
”Hold on there, my man, you leave the boy alone,” said Cameron.
”What's your business in this, young feller?”
”Never mind!” said Cameron. ”Tim is a friend of mine and no one is going to hurt him. Run along, Tim, and get your horses.”
”Friend o' Tim's, eh!” said Haley, in half drunken good nature. ”Friend o' Tim's, friend o' mine,” he added, gravely shaking Cameron by the hand. ”Have a drink, young man. You look a' right!”
Cameron took the bottle, put it to his lips. The liquor burned like fire.
”Great Caesar!” he gasped, contriving to let the bottle drop upon a stone. ”What do you call that?”
”Pretty hot stuff!” cried Haley, with a shout of laughter.
But Sam, unable to see the humour of the situation, exclaimed in a rage, ”Here, you cursed fool! That is my bottle!”
”Sorry to be so clumsy,” said Cameron apologetically, ”but it surely wasn't anything to drink, was it?”
”Yes, it jest was something to drink, was it?” mocked Sam, approaching Cameron with menace in his eye and att.i.tude. ”I have a blanked good notion to punch your head, too!”
”Oh! I wouldn't do that if I were you,” said Cameron, smiling pleasantly.
”Say, Sam, don't get mad, Sam,” interposed Haley. ”This young feller's a friend o' Tim's. I'll git another bottle a' right. I've got the stuff right here.” He pulled out his roll of bills. ”And lots more where this comes from.”
”Let me have that, Mr. Haley, I'll get the bottle for you,” said Cameron, reaching out for the bills.