Dab Kinzer: A Story of a Growing Boy, William O. Stoddard [motivational books to read .TXT] 📗

mine. Put dat back, now, will you?"

Dick had promptly retreated against the fence, in his surprise and vexation, and was defending himself and his cargo vigorously, but he was sadly outnumbered.

They were a cowardly lot: for their all but helpless victim had even received several sharp blows, in return for his grasps and pushes; and the matter threatened to end unpleasantly for him, when suddenly Joe Hart felt his feet jerked from under him. Down he went, and over went Fuz on top of him; and then there were four or five boys all in a heap, with Dick's basket upset just beyond them, and Dick himself diving hither and thither after its late contents, and exclaiming,—

"Cap'n Dab's come! I's all right now. Jes' let me pick up some ob dese t'ings."

There was a resentful ring in the last remark, as if he were thinking of something like war after the recovery of his groceries; but it was indeed the voice of Dab Kinzer, shouting full and clear,—

"Pick 'em up, Dick! we're just in time."

A boy somewhat larger than the rest, a good half-head taller than
Dabney, but with a somewhat pasty and unhealthy complexion, had selected
Ford Foster, as the shortest of the new arrivals, and demanded,—

"What are you meddling for?" just as he aimed a clumsy blow at his head. That blow did not hit Ford; but a shorter young ruffian had also picked him out, perhaps for the same reason, and the hit he aimed reached its mark, for Ford had no extra pair of arms behind to box with. Frank Harley seemed, just then, to be remarkably busy with the heap of boys on the ground.

"Spat!"—that was the way something sounded; and Dab Kinzer added,—

"Go for that fellow on the grass, Ford: I'll take care of the long one."

"You will,—will you?"

Spat—spat—spat!

"Oh! I see: you don't know how to box; weak in the arms too. Better go home."

The tall boy was stepping backwards quite rapidly, with one hand on his nose, and the other swinging wildly in the air above him; and Ford was keeping the "fellow on the grass" from getting up, when all the noise around them suddenly ceased.

"Dr. Brandegee!"

"Where? Where?"

"Coming across the green, at the upper end."

"He's coming this way."

Several of the late assailants started on a run at once; but Dab Kinzer had caught a sharp whisper from Frank Harley, and he shouted,—

"No you won't, Joe Hart! Hold on, Fuz! That other chap must stay too.
Give Dick back his groceries."

"Dey's hooked a pile ob 'em," said Dick, his eyes dancing with triumph.
"Jes' make 'em hand ober."

"Do you mean to say we've been stealing?" fiercely demanded Joe.

"What, me? me, steal?" almost gasped Fuz.

"They wouldn't do such a thing as that," said Ford, not quite comprehending the situation.

"That's it," said Dab: "let 'em empty their pockets"—

Joe was indignantly turning inside out the side pockets of his neat "cut-away," and a small, brown-paper-covered parcel dropped upon the ground.

"Dem's de cloves," shouted Dick, as he darted forward, and picked it up.

The fingers of Fuz almost unconsciously imitated those of his elder brother, and with a like result.

"Dat's de cinnamon. If de oder feller didn't git de tea an' de sal'ratus! Whar's de nutmegs?"

These, too, were forthcoming, as well as a paper of "indigo blue" for the next Monday's washing, and other items which testified strongly as to "how much at a time" Mrs. Myers was in the habit of buying.

It was all over in less than half a minute, but Dick's assailants looked very much as if they wanted to sink right down through the grass.

"Go home, Joseph," said Ford; "go home, Foster. I'll write to your father that you're out of these things at your boarding-house. We buy all our groceries, where we live."

"I never touched a thing," roared Joe. "Somebody put 'em in my pockets."

"Don't say any thing more, Joseph," said Ford calmly. "If you don't get enough to eat, come over to our house: we won't let you starve. Give you all the bluing you want too."

They did not seem to need any just then; and there was such a crowd of boys gathering that they were glad to take Ford's advice, and hurry away. Even then a good deal more attention might have been paid them, all around, but for the excitement created in the mind of every boy who looked at the great strings of fish Dab and his friends had dropped when they went in to the rescue of Dick Lee.

Questions as to where they were caught, and how, poured upon the young fishermen so fast that it was not easy to dodge them all at once, or prevent a general stampede of the academy boys to Green Pond.

"They'd use up the boat in one day, and all the fish in the next," said
Dab to Frank; "but where'd you learn to do what you did for Fuz and
Joe?"

"Sleight-of-hand? Oh! one of father's Hindu converts had been a juggler. He taught me. They're the best in the world, but father doesn't like me to do much of it. We can have some fun with it yet, though. It came to me like a flash when I saw those things on the ground."

"Served 'em right. Spoiling 'em on the ground was next thing to stealing."

"Come on, boys," said Ford. "It's after five o'clock."

They were all glad to escape from the crowd, especially Dick Lee; and it was not until they were across the street that the tall form of Dr. Brandegee came slowly down past the ball-players. He seemed particularly interested in that game. It was currently reported, indeed, that he had been a first-class athlete in his younger days, and that he took a quiet half-hour in the morning with his dumb-bells now, before doing any thing at all with his Greek and Latin.

The "short-stop" was a well-built, sunburned student of at least twenty; and the doctor noticed how neatly he had been doing his work.

"Wish I could catch an equation as well as I can a ball," said the young fellow, coloring a little, perhaps at the memory of something in mathematics which had "got by him."

"You will, I think. By the way, didn't I see what looked like a disturbance down here among the boys, just now?"

"Disturbance? Well, yes, I should say there was. Came near interrupting the game."

"Any thing serious?"

"Well, it might have been. Some of the boys made a set on that little colored chap. Mean thing to do. I'd ha' stopped it myself; but that Kinzer boy, and the other two that board with Mrs. Myers, they cleared it all up in no time."

"No fighting, I hope?"

"Well, no; but I tell you what, doctor, the rest of the boys'll let that nigger alone. His friends can box."

"Ah, yes! I understand. They stood by him. Wouldn't see him imposed upon."

"They just wouldn't. They're prime little chaps. The other boys were bigger'n they are. I'd ha' helped 'em, but they didn't need any help."

"No. Yes,—I see. It won't do to have any fighting, but then! H'm! They stood right by him! Good-afternoon, Mr. Pulsifer."

"Good-afternoon, Dr. Brandegee. There, if he hasn't made me lose a hit! I'd ha' fetched it. But I'm glad I had a chance to set him right about that scrimmage. I thought those three chaps were kind o' stuck up, but everybody'll know where to place 'em now."

There was nothing like anger, or even disapproval, on Dr. Brandegee's face when he walked away; but he was muttering,—

"Know how to box, do they? I thought I saw something like it. They're a fine lot of young fellows. I must keep my eye on them. They'll be MEN one of these days!"

They were only boys yet, however; and they were hardly arrived in front of the kitchen-door before they began to make the proposed division of the fish.

Mrs. Myers came to meet Dick, and receive an account of his errand.

"You've been gone twice as long—I declare, Almira, come here and see these fish. You have had wonderful luck, I must say. More'n we'll know what to do with."

"I will attend to the cleaning of them," began Dabney; but Dick interrupted him with,—

"Guess not, Cap'n Dab. I's cleaned loads ob fish. Won't be no time at all puttin' t'rough jes' a string or two."

"Dick will clean them," said Mrs. Myers; "but it's too late to cook any for supper."

She turned away into the house as she spoke, and took Almira with her.

"Now, boys," said Dabney, "we've just time, before supper, to go with these other strings, and get back."

They would have been late indeed, if they had stopped to talk with every one who wanted to admire Dab's big pickerel and Ford's remarkable bass; but a little good management brought them to Dr. Brandegee's in not much more than five times the number of minutes needed to walk the distance. The fish were handed to the door-opener with,—

"The compliments of Mr. Harley, Mr. Kinzer, and Mr. Foster," and a great flourish of a bow from the latter, which could hardly be made to keep that string company till the doctor should see it.

"Now for the minister's."

The good man himself replied to the ring at his door-bell; but Dabney was half sorry he had consented to be spokesman this time.

"My young friends?" said Mr. Fallow inquiringly.

"Fish, sir," said Dab. "Some we caught to-day over in Green Pond. We thought we'd bring you a mess of 'em."

He thought, too, without saying it,—

"Now I've made a mess of it. Why didn't I let Ford do it?"

"Thank you. Thank you, my young friends. Very kind and thoughtful. Won't you walk in?"

"No, sir, thank you. It's most supper-time. We must hurry back."

"Mary! Come and see these fish. Some very fine ones. Going? Indeed? Saw you in church last Sunday. Hope I'll see you there again to morrow. Good-afternoon, my dear young friends."

"Good-afternoon, sir."

They walked away a little rapidly, but with a vivid and decidedly pleasant impression that they had given the pale-faced, earnest-eyed minister an extraordinary amount of comfort.

"The fish ain't worth much," said Ford. "It couldn't have been just them!"

No, indeed, it was not, and they failed to make it out to their satisfaction; but it might have helped them if they had seen him hand the fish to "Mary," and say,—

"There, what do you think of that? The very boys I told you of."

"The ones you saw on the green, fighting?"

"Exactly. I must see Dr. Brandegee. They can't be altogether bad."

"Bad? No! There must be something about it. The doctor always knows. He will be able to explain it, I know."

Great was the confidence of the Grantley people in Dr. Brandegee, as to any and all things relating to "his boys;" and that of Mrs. Fallow was none the less when her husband returned from his evening call.

"Defending that colored boy? You don't say. The dear, brave little fellows! Fighting is dreadful. Did any of them get hurt?"

"Hurt, dear? No; and they gave those young ruffians—H'm! Well—David had to do a great deal of fighting, Mary, but we must not approve too."—

"My dear! I say they did right."

And the little woman's tired face flushed into sudden beauty, with her honest enthusiasm over "those boys."

They had not reached the end of their day's experiences, however, when they left the minister's gate, or even when they arrived at their own.

At that very moment Mrs. Myers was once more standing in the kitchen doorway.

"Dick, as soon as you've had your supper, you may take one of those strings of fish over to Deacon Short's, and another to Mrs. Sunderland's. You may clean all the rest."

"Yes'm," said Dick vaguely, "but dar's on'y one string."

"Only one? Where are all the rest, I'd like to know?"

Dabney and his friends were around the corner of the house now, and her last question was plainly directed to them.

"The rest of what, Mrs. Myers'?"

"Why, the fish. What have you done with them?"

"Oh! they're all right, Mrs. Myers," said Ford. "Fish are good for brains. That's what we've done with 'em."

"Brains? What"—

"Exactly. Next