Edward Ellis - The Campers Out - or, The Right Path and the Wrong

In the gathering gloom, they observed a barn near the highway, in which they concluded to take refuge, for it was impossible to walk farther, and no better shelter was likely to present itself.

But for the cruel reception received at the first house earlier in the afternoon, they would have asked for charity of some of the neighbors, and doubtless would have received kind treatment, for it would be unjust to describe all the people of that section as unfeeling and heartless.

Had they made their predicament known in any one of the towns, they would have been taken care of until their families could be communicated with; but they were too frightened to think of anything of that nature.

Halting a short way from the barn, Tommy cautiously advanced to make a reconnoissance. He walked timidly around it, but discovered nothing of any person, nor did he hear the growl of a watch-dog. The dwelling-house stood so far off that it was distinguished only by the lights twinkling from within.

When Tommy came to try the main door, however, it was locked, and he feared they were barred out. He persevered, and with a thrill of hope found the stable-door unfastened – a piece of carelessness on the part of the owner, unless he meant to return shortly.

The lad whistled to his companions waiting in the road, and they hurried to his side. Telling them the cheering news, he let them pass in ahead of him, after which he carefully closed the door as it was before.

Then followed several minutes of groping in the dark, during which Jimmy narrowly missed receiving a dangerous kick from one of the horses, and at last the hay-mow was located. With considerable labor they crawled to the top, covered their shivering bodies as best they could, and, nestling close together, to secure what warmth they could, sank almost immediately into deep slumber.

They were so utterly worn out that neither opened his eyes until the sun was above the horizon. The storm had cleared away, the air was cool, and though their bodies were stiffened and half-famished, they were in better spirits than when they clambered into the refuge.

When all had fully awakened and rubbed their eyes, they sat for a moment or two on the hay, considering what could be done.

“I’m so hungry,” said Billy Waylett, “that I feel as though I could eat this hay.”

“And I’ll chew some of the meal if we can’t do any better,” added Jim.

“Both of you together aint half as hungry as I am,” said Tommy, “and I’m going to the house to ask for something to eat.”

“Maybe they’ve got a dog,” suggested Billy, with a shudder.

“I don’t care if they have; I’ll kill and eat him .”

From this it will be seen that the young Indian slayers were in a sorry plight indeed.

“You fellers stay here,” said Tommy, “while I fix things, and then I’ll send for you; I’m bound to do something or die, for I can’t stand this any longer – ”

Just then the barn door opened, and several persons entered.

“I think we’ll find them in here,” remarked one; “they couldn’t have traveled much farther.”

“But I don’t see how the young rascals could get in my barn.”

“We’ll take a look through that haymow.”

And the next minute the head and shoulders of a burly man rose to view, and the runaways were discovered.

Two men remained standing on the floor below, and the one who climbed the hay-mow was Hungerford, Chief of Police of Ashton. He had struck the trail of the runaways in Jersey City, and when he learned of three boys that had left the train at New Brunswick, he was certain they were the young rogues whom he was looking for.

He hired a horse and wagon in the city, secured the help and guidance of an officer well acquainted with the country, and by judicious inquiry retained the trail. He was so far behind the boys, however, that it was growing dark when he was only half a dozen miles out of the city, and he was obliged to put up for the night.

He was at it again before daylight, and the couple used their wits with such effect that before long they fixed upon the barn where the boys had taken refuge. An examination of the road and damp earth revealed the tell-tale footprints, and they applied to the farmer for his aid in searching the barn.

That gentleman was surprised to find he had forgotten to lock the stable-door, but such was the fact, and a brief search brought the runaways to light.

When they recognized the chief of police, they broke down and cried so pitifully that the heart of the officer was touched. He cheered them as best he could, and after they were taken to the house, given a warm breakfast and their clothing was dried, they felt, as may be said, like giants refreshed with new wine.

All were eager to be taken home. They had had enough of adventure, and were willing to face any punishment awaiting them, if they could only see Ashton again. Mr. Hungerford was confident that the three would receive the chastisement they merited, but he gave no hint of his belief, and prepared to take them thither.

He paid the farmer for the meal, and then decided to drive back to New Brunswick, and make the real start from that point.

He had learned of the robbery the boys suffered, and he was determined to recover the valuable watch of Mr. Wagstaff from thieving Snakeroot Sam. His brother officer offered to give him all the help possible, though he warned him that the task would be both difficult and dangerous, because of the large number of vicious tramps in that section.

The first thing done, upon reaching New Brunswick, was to telegraph to Mr. Wagstaff that the runaways were found, with no harm having befallen them, and they might be expected home that evening. Then, leaving the boys by themselves, the officers set out for the tramp rendezvous, where better fortune than they anticipated awaited them.

Snakeroot Sam was well known to the New Brunswick officer, and they were fortunate enough to come upon him in the highway, where he had no companions. He was collared before he suspected their business, and the watch and chain were found on his person. Inasmuch as it would have involved considerable delay to bring the scamp to trial and conviction, besides getting the names of the runaways in the papers, Chief Hungerford took his satisfaction out of the tramp personally. The kick administered to Tommy Wagstaff was repaid with interest. Indeed, there is reason to believe that Sam felt the effects throughout most of the following summer. Certain it is that he never received such a shaking up in his life.

Just as it was growing dark, the boys arrived in Ashton and were at their respective homes to supper.

And then and there was made a mistake, so serious in its nature and so far-reaching in its consequences that it forms the basis of the narrative recorded in the following pages.

It will be remembered that each father concerned declared that, upon their return home, the boys should receive severe punishment for their flagrant offenses. Such was their resolve, and yet only one of the gentlemen carried it out.

Mr. Wagstaff and his wife were so grateful for the restoration of their son that they accepted his promise to be a better boy, and, after a mild reproof, he was restored to their grace and favor.

It was the same with the parents of Jimmy McGovern. He professed great contrition for his wrong-doing, and several days were devoted to a consideration of the matter, when he, too, was allowed to escape all punishment.

Billy Waylett, the youngest and least guilty, was the only one who suffered at the hands of his father. The latter loved his child as much as any parent could, and he felt more pain in inflicting the chastisement than did the lad in receiving it. But it was given from a sense of duty, and, as is always and invariably the case, the boy respected his parent for what he did. He knew he deserved it, and that it was meant for his own good.