Part 7 (2/2)

All of this information was eagerly devoured by his successor, who felt that it was certainly up to him to do his share toward supporting the little family of the life saver who had been so kind to him.

He wandered out late one afternoon to look around and see what prospect there might be for game; since the fall season was now on, and the boom of guns beginning to be heard on the bay, where the ducks were commencing to congregate.

As he drew near the cabin just at dusk he was surprised to discover a figure making off in a suspicious way, as though not desirous of being seen.

He recognized the lurker as Jim Dilks, and the fact gave him considerable uneasiness, for he had not forgotten how the other vowed to get even for his discomfiture, and Jim's methods of wiping out a score were sometimes little short of shocking, if Darry could believe half he had heard.

Had the fellow been prowling around in hopes of meeting him again, and trying conclusions a second time?

Darry could not believe it, for such a thing would not be in line with the reputation of the village bully.

He would be more apt to try and obtain a mean revenge by doing some injury to the kind woman who had given refuge to this s.h.i.+pwrecked lad.

Evidently Mrs. Peake should know what he had seen, and so as soon as he entered the kitchen, he spoke of it.

”Jim Dilks hanging about here,” she echoed, in rising anger; ”I'd just like to know what that scamp wants, that's all. No good follows his visits, as every one about this section knows to their sorrow.”

”I'm afraid I'm the cause of it all. Unfortunately my being here is apt to bring trouble down upon you. Perhaps it might be as well if I moved on, as he said,” remarked the boy, dejectedly.

The woman looked at him quickly, almost sharply.

”Do you want to go?” she demanded.

”No, oh, never; but it would save you trouble, and I have no right to bring that on you,” he cried, hastily, and with emotion.

”Then I say you shan't go away, not for a dozen Jim Dilks. You belong here now. I've done what I said I never would do, given away my Joey's things, and you're my boy, I say. I won't let you go away! This is your home as long as you want to stay. Let me catch that Jim Dilks trying to chase you off, that's all.”

Darry could not trust his voice to say one word, only caught up her work-stained hand and pressed it to his lips, then fled from the house.

And yet as Darry stood out under the old oak that s.h.i.+elded the cottage from the burning sun in summer, and the biting winds of the ”northers”

in winter, looking up at the first bright evening star that peeped into view, he felt a happiness deep down in his boyish heart that could not be excelled by a prince of the royal blood coming into his palace home.

He was merry all evening, and the twins romped as they had not done for many a day, in fact, ever since their brother had left them.

The mother looked on in silent approval, thinking that once more home seemed to have a brightness about it that had been long lacking.

When all had retired save Darry he sat by the fire thinking.

Somehow he could not forget that skulking figure he had seen leaving the vicinity of the cabin at dusk, and he would have given much to have known just what mission brought the vindictive Jim out there.

The bully's home was in the village, and he had no business so far away, unless bent on an errand that would not bear the light of day.

A sense of responsibility came upon the boy as he sat there.

What if this young wretch should be cruel enough to poison the chickens, or the three pigs that were expected to help carry the family over the winter?

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