The Knights of the White Shield eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 202 pages of information about The Knights of the White Shield.

The Knights of the White Shield eBook

This eBook from the Gutenberg Project consists of approximately 202 pages of information about The Knights of the White Shield.

“I am not going to run,” said the governor, with his usual resoluteness.

“Nor I,” said Sid.

“Nor I,” said Charlie.

“Nor I,” said Billy.

Others declared the same.  They all stood their ground, or floor, rather.  The noise on the stairs was continued, and soon a seed-strewn hat appeared in sight, and then a big head of hair, and then a man’s body.  The boys clustered closely together, and when the man turned toward them, they saw that the roughly-dressed man had a roughly featured face, but its expression was kindly.

“He will eat uth up,” whispered Pip, trying to get behind Billy Grimes.  The stranger was not a cannibal though.  He took off his hat, shook it, and said, “If that was an accident, it’s all right.  If any one did it, meaning to do it, was it just the thing?”

The boys felt the appeal and shook their heads.

“We don’t justify it, and I’m the president,” said Sid, with a look of importance, “and no one of us that you see did it.”

“I hope not.  Sometimes folks are not lucky, and if any of your fathers went trampin’ round and couldn’t get work, you wouldn’t like to have any body throw hay-seed on him.”

“No, that’s so,” said Charlie.  “It’s too bad!”

The man turned to go down stairs.

“I—­I guess my aunt could give you a job.  She wanted somebody this morning to saw her wood.”

“Did she?  Where is she?”

“I’ll show you,” and Charlie’s obliging drumsticks followed the man down stairs.  Then he went into the kitchen and made an appeal for the stranger.

“Well, I’ll give him the job,” replied Aunt Stanshy.

In a minute more the man was at the wood-pile driving Aunt Stanshy’s saw rapidly through a stick of pine.

The club had been looking out of the window while Charlie interceded for the man.  When he joined his clubmates some one exclaimed, “What’s that?”

It was a noise from the closet into which Wort had plunged, or, rather, a noise that started there, for it was continued down into the story below, even as the noise of a rushing snow-slide along a roof begins at the ridgepole, but ends on the ground beneath the eaves.

“It’s Wort!” said Charlie, excitedly.  “O dear! he’s gone.”

“Gone where?” inquired Sid.  “Into the bowels of the earth?”

Charlie’s answer was to rush down stairs, followed by the club in a very hasty and undignified way.  There, at the end of a long spout that terminated eight inches from the floor, was a couple of good-sized legs squirming to get out.  Then Wort’s voice was heard, coming from the interior of the box, “Let me out!  Let me out!”

“Can’t you get out?” asked the governor.

“No, no!  Let me out!  Let me out—­quick!”

It was even so.  Wort must be let out.

“O, Aunt Stanshy, Wort—­Wort—­is in the fodder-box, and can’t get out!” shrieked Charlie at the open kitchen window.

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Project Gutenberg
The Knights of the White Shield from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.