Part 33 (2/2)
”In a new business, eh?” he sneered, as the sloop ran through the draw.
Ralph paid no attention to him, and soon they were too far away from the bridge for Percy to attempt to say more.
”Who is that young man?” asked Mr. Larkins, with a considerable show of interest.
”That is Percy Paget, the son of the village squire,” returned Ralph.
”A friend of yours?”
”No sir,” and there was a decided ring in the boy's tones. ”If anything, he is my worst enemy.”
”I imagine he is not a very nice youth,” went on the gentleman.
”He is not, sir. He is very overbearing, and will do anything, no matter how mean, if he can't have his own way.”
”I believe you, Ralph. I met him once before, at a hotel back of Westville, with a chum of his, and he was telling how he was going to get square with somebody who had done something he did not like.”
”Did he say what he was going to do?” asked Ralph, with not a little curiosity.
”He said something about smas.h.i.+ng some gla.s.s.”
”He did!” Ralph was all attention now. ”And did he mention any names, sir?”
”I did not hear the whole talk. I believe he spoke of scaring the widow to death.”
”I thought so!” returned Ralph, bitterly.
”Why, Ralph, do you know anything of this affair?”
”Indeed I do, sir. The widow he spoke of was my mother. Less than two weeks ago he smashed nearly every pane of gla.s.s in our cottage!”
”Really, is it possible!” e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed Mr. Larkins. ”He must be a thoroughly bad boy.”
”He is, sir.
”Did you suspect him?”
”I did. But I had no proofs, and he is rich, while we are poor.”
”That doesn't make it right to smash windows,” said the young lady, Mr.
Larkins' niece.
”I know it, but it makes it harder for one to obtain justice, especially as in this case, when the boy's father is squire.”
”I suppose that is so,” said Mr. Larkins. ”What was the trouble?”
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