CHAPTER IV.
SAM FRIGHTENS THE HOUSEHOLD.
Sam usually slept the whole night through; but to-night was anexception. It might have been because he was in a strange bed, and ina strange house. At any rate, he woke in time to hear the clock on thechurch, of which his guardian was deacon, strike two.
"Where am I?" was his first thought.
He remembered almost immediately, and the thought made him broadawake. He ought not to have been hungry at that hour, and in fact hewas not, but the thought of the pie forced itself upon his mind, andhe felt a longing for the slice that was left over from supper. Quickupon this thought came another, "Why couldn't he creep downstairssoftly, and get it? The deacon and his wife were fast asleep, Whowould find him out?"
A boy better brought up than Sam might have reflected that it waswrong; but, as the deacon said, Sam had no "conceptions of duty," or,more properly, his conscience was not very active. He got out of bed,slipped on his stockings, and crept softly downstairs, feeling hisway. It was very dark, for the entries were unlighted, but finally hereached the kitchen without creating any alarm.
Now for the closet. It was not locked, and Sam opened the door withoutdifficulty.
"I wish I had a match, so's to see where the pie is," he thought.
He felt around, but the pie must have been placed elsewhere, for hecould not find it. It had really been placed on the highest shelf,which Sam had not as yet explored. But there are dangers in feelingaround in the dark. Our hero managed to dislodge a pile of plates,which fell with a crash upon his feet. There was a loud crash ofbroken crockery, and the noise was increased by the howls of Sam, whodanced up and down with pain.
The noise reached the chamber where the deacon and his wife werecalmly reposing. Mrs. Hopkins was a light sleeper, and was awakened atonce.
She was startled and terrified, and, sitting up in bed, shook herhusband violently by the shoulder.
"Deacon--Deacon Hopkins!" she exclaimed.
"What's the matter?" asked the deacon, drowsily.
"Matter enough. There's robbers downstairs."
Now the deacon was broad awake.
"Robbers!" he exclaimed. "Pooh! Nonsense! You're dreamin', wife."
Just then there was another racket. Sam, in trying to effect hisescape, tumbled over a chair, and there was a yell of pain.
"Am I dreaming now, deacon?" demanded his wife, triumphantly.
"You're right, wife," said the deacon, turning pale, and trembling."It's an awful situation. What shall we do?"
"Do? Go downstairs, and confront the villains!" returned his wife,energetically.
"They might shoot me," said her husband, panic-stricken."They're--they're said to be very desperate fellows."
"Are you a man, and won't defend your property?" exclaimed his wife,taunting him, "Do you want me to go down?"
"Perhaps you'd better," said the deacon, accepting the suggestion withalacrity.
"What!" shrieked Mrs. Hopkins. "You are willing they should shootme?"
"They wouldn't shoot a woman," said the deacon.
But his wife was not appeased.
Just then the unlucky Sam trod on the tail of the cat, who was quietlyasleep on the hearth. With the instinct of self-defence, she scratchedhis leg, which was undefended by the customary clothing, and our hero,who did not feel at all heroic in the dark, not knowing what had gothold of him, roared with pain and fright.
"This is terrible!" gasped the deacon. "Martha, is the door locked?"
"No."
"Then I'll get up and lock it. O Lord, what will become of us?"
Sam was now ascending the stairs, and, though he tried to walk softly,the stairs creaked beneath his weight.
"They're comin' upstairs," exclaimed Mrs. Hopkins. "Lock the doorquick, deacon, or we shall be murdered in our bed."
The deacon reached the door in less time than he would haveaccomplished the same feat in the daytime, and hurriedly locked it.
"It's locked, Martha," he said, "but they may break it down."
"Or fire through the door--"
"Let's hide under the bed," suggested the heroic deacon.
"Don't speak so loud. They'll hear. I wish it was mornin'."
The deacon stood at the door listening, and made a discovery.
"They're goin up into the garret," he announced. "That's strange--"
"What do they want up there, I wonder?"
"They can't think we've got anything valuable up there."
"Deacon," burst out Mrs. Hopkins, with a sudden idea, "I believe we'vebeen fooled."
"Fooled! What do you mean?"
"I believe it isn't robbers."
"Not robbers? Why, you told me it was," said her husband, bewildered.
"_I believe it's that boy._"
"What,--Sam?"
"Yes."
"What would he want downstairs?"
"I don't know, but it's him, I'll be bound. Light the lamp, deacon,and go up and see."
"But it might be robbers," objected the deacon, in alarm. "They mightget hold of me, and kill me."
"I didn't think you were such a coward, _Mr._ Hopkins," said his wife,contemptuously. When she indulged in severe sarcasm, she wasaccustomed to omit her husband's title.
"I aint a coward, but I don't want to risk my life. It's a clearflyin' in the face of Providence. You'd ought to see that it is,Martha," said the deacon, reproachfully.
"I don't see it. I see that you are frightened, that's what I see.Light the lamp, and I'll go up myself."
"Well, Martha, it's better for you to go. They won't touch a woman."
He lighted the lamp, and his wife departed on her errand. It mighthave been an unconscious action on the part of the deacon, but helocked the door after his wife.
Mrs. Hopkins proceeded to the door of Sam's bed-chamber, and, as thedoor was unfastened, she entered. Of course he was still awake, but hepretended to be asleep.
"Sam," said Mrs. Hopkins.
There was a counterfeited snore.
"Sam--say!"
Sam took no notice.
The lady took him by the shoulder, and shook him with no gentle hand,so that our hero was compelled to rouse himself.
"What's up?" he asked, rubbing his eyes in apparent surprise.
"I am," said Mrs. Hopkins, shortly, "and you have been."
"I!" protested Sam, innocently. "Why, I was sound asleep when you camein. I don't know what's been goin on. Is it time to get up?"
"What have you been doing downstairs?" demanded Mrs. Hopkins,sternly.
"Who says I've been downstairs?" asked Sam.
"I'm sure you have. I heard you."
"It must have been somebody else."
"There is no one else to go down. Neither the deacon nor myself hasbeen down."
"Likely it's thieves."
But Mrs. Hopkins felt convinced, from Sam's manner, that he was theoffender, and she determined to make him confess it.
"Get up," she said, "and go down with me."
"I'm sleepy," objected Sam.
"So am I, but I mean to find out all about this matter."
Sam jumped out of bed, and unwillingly accompanied Mrs. Hopkinsdownstairs. The latter stopped at her own chamber-door, and tried toopen it.
"Who's there?" asked the deacon, tremulously.
"I am," said his wife, emphatically.
"So you locked the door on your wife, did you, because you thoughtthere was danger. It does you great credit, upon my word."
"What have you found out?" asked her husband, evading the reproach."Was it Sam that made all the noise?"
"How could I," said Sam, "when I was fast asleep?"
"I'm goin to take him down with me to see what mischief's done," saidMrs. Hopkins. "Do you want to go too?"
The deacon, after a little hesitation, followed his more courageousspouse, at a safe distance, however,--and the three entered thekitchen, which had been the scene of Sam's noisy exploits. It showedtraces of his presence in an overtu
rned chair. Moreover, thecloset-door was wide open, and broken pieces of crockery werescattered over the floor.
A light dawned upon Mrs. Hopkins. She had solved the mystery!
The Young Outlaw; or, Adrift in the Streets Page 6