Frank and Fearless Part 31

"Didn't you shoot anything?" she ventured to ask.

"I haven't been hunting."

"I thought you took out your gun."

"What if I did? I don't always hunt when I take my gun. I expected to hear from the friends of that brat this morning, but I didn't. They must hurry up with their money if they don't want me to strangle him."

"Perhaps they didn't get your letter, d.i.c.k."

"Yes, they did. I took care of that. I s'pose they're hatching up some plot to have me arrested. If they do, it'll be a bad day for the brat."

He looked fierce and brutal enough to execute the dark threat at which he indirectly hinted. There was a cruel look in his eye which showed that he would have had small scruples about injuring an innocent child, if provoked by the desire for revenge.

While his wife was cooking the eggs he filled his pipe and began to smoke. She made all the haste she could, knowing that her husband was far from patient. Soon the frugal repast was ready. She set it on the table, and said:

"It's all ready, d.i.c.k. Better eat it while it's hot."

"I'll eat it when I choose," he growled, in his usual spirit of contradiction.

However, he was hungry, and laying aside his pipe, did as she requested.

Soon he had dispatched all the food set before him.

"There isn't enough to keep a kitten from starving," he said.

"I'm sorry, d.i.c.k."

"Much you are sorry," he growled. "A pretty wife you are."

"I wish there were more. If you'll give me some money I'll go out and buy something."

"Money!" he snarled. "You're always wanting money. Do you think I am made of money?"

"No, d.i.c.k; but you know I have none. I wish I knew of any way to earn it."

"You do?"

"Yes, d.i.c.k."

"Then I suppose you'd be leaving me," he said, suspiciously.

"No, I wouldn't. You know I wouldn't, d.i.c.k."

"So you say," he answered, brutally, "How's the brat? Has it been crying?"

"No; it is a very good child."

"I'll go up and take a look at it."

He arose from his seat, and advanced toward the door.

His wife followed him.

"Where are you going?" he asked, turning upon her.

"I'm going up, too," she answered, meekly.

"What for? Can't you trust me with the brat?"

"Yes, d.i.c.k, but it isn't much used to you. You might frighten it, and make it cry."

"That's all right," he answered, smiling grimly. "I like to hear children cry."

"How can you enjoy the sufferings of a child?"

"Halloo! What's that?" he said, looking sharply at her. "You dare to find fault with me, do you?"

"I didn't mean that, d.i.c.k," she said, submissively.

"It's lucky you didn't," he said, warningly. "I don't allow none of that, wife or no wife."

"May I go up?"

"If you want to."

So the two went up stairs together.

The wife was nervous lest the child in some way might excite the suspicions of her husband and betray the presence of Jasper. She felt, therefore, very ill at ease.

The child was sitting up in bed.

"Halloo, young 'un, how yer gettin' along?" asked the man, roughly.

The child did not answer, but looked frightened.

"Why don't you answer?" demanded the man, frowning.

The child looked toward the woman, and seemed on the point of crying.

"Can't you say something to the gentleman?" said the woman, soothingly.

Thus adjured, the little boy said:

"Won't you take me to my mamma?"

"Oh, yes, I'll take you as soon as your mamma sends me some money," said the man named d.i.c.k, "and she'd better do it pretty soon, too," he muttered.

He threw himself into a chair, and ceased to notice the child.