Read Ebook: The Young Scout: The Story of a West Point Lieutenant by Ellis Edward Sylvester

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Ebook has 1473 lines and 66250 words, and 30 pages

THE YOUNG CHAMPION.

One warm summer afternoon, a half dozen boys on their way home from the Burkville School, stopped to rest under the trees, which afforded a grateful shade at the side of the dusty highway.

No matter how tired such a lot of youngsters may be, they are sure to be brimming over with mischief, and on the alert for boisterous amusement. To picture them seated quiet, thoughtful and well behaved is to picture what was never seen. No such an occurrence is on record or within the memory of the "oldest inhabitant."

Among the group who reclined on the grass was little Almon Goodwin, a cripple, with a withered leg, which compelled him to use a crutch in walking and debarred him from the more active sports of his playfellows. His sunny disposition, genial nature and scholarly ability made him a favorite with the rest, who were always glad to favor him and to accept playful annoyances at his hands which would have been quickly resented on the part of the other lusty youths.

The largest boy of the group was Buck Kennon, a new pupil, whose folks had lately removed to the neighborhood. He was two years older than the eldest of the party, and in growth and appearance seemed to be fully sixteen years of age. He was a rough, coarse, overbearing lad, who was feared and disliked by the rest. Three of the boys, who resisted his tyrannous conduct, had been beaten into submission, and every one felt that a most disagreeable and unwelcome member had joined the school. They would have been glad to be rid of him, but there he was and likely to stay with all his detested qualities.

The party had been lolling on the grass in the shade for some minutes, when Buck snatched off the hat of the crippled boy and dashed off with it. Almon hobbled after him, but of course could not overtake his persecutor.

"That isn't fair; let me have my hat," called Almon, halting in his pursuit; "why don't you take some one else's hat?"

The bully, seeing he was not pursued, now picked up a stone, flung the hat aloft and as it turned to descend, let fly with the stone, which was aimed so well that it passed through the crown, leaving a jagged hole. The owner crooked his arm and raised it to his face. His parents were poor and he could not help crying over the damage done to his property.

"Oh, what a baby!" called Buck, making ready to fling the hat up again for another shot; "I 'spose your mother will give you a whipping for not taking care of that purty head piece."

Before the hat could leave the hand of the bully, a boy dashed forward, snatched it from his grasp, and returned it to the sobbing owner.

The boy who had the courage to do this was James Decker, two years younger than the bully and of much slighter frame. He was the best scholar in school and liked by playmates and teacher. Having handed the property of the cripple to him, he turned about and confronted the big lad, who stood a moment amazed at his daring. The face of Buck was crimson with anger and all saw that trouble was impending.

"What business is it of yours?" he demanded; "I'll do as I please without asking you about it. I'll teach you better than to interfere."

He made a snatch at the young champion's hat, but James dodged and in a twinkling snatched off that of his assailant. James was much more active than his bulky pursuer, and, dashing a few rods, suddenly stopped, flung the handsome hat in air, and then with the accuracy of a rifle-shot hurled a stone clean through it.

"There!" he said, "see how you like it yourself." The other boys laughed in their delight, and the bully boiled with rage. He never had had the tables turned so completely upon him. It was exasperating beyond endurance. Like a mad bull, he rushed upon young Decker, his fists clenched and his eyes glaring. He meant to teach the audacious youngster a lesson that he would remember all his life.

James was through running away from his enemy. He might have dodged and eluded him, or sped down the highway and escaped him altogether, but the bully would take his revenge upon the cripple, for it was just like him. Besides, a fight for the supremacy, must come sooner or later, and it might as well come now.

So Decker braced himself for the shock, and, when the big fellow was upon him, he struck him twice quickly and with all his strength, directly in the face. The shock, made the greater by the momentum of his own body, sent Buck staggering backward and almost upon his back. The blow was a fierce one for a boy, and big as was the bully he could not help howling with pain. He stopped, put his hands to his face as if to assure himself that it was still on his shoulders, while Decker, cool and collected, with one foot thrust forward, his fists ready, his face pale and his eyes flashing, awaited the next onset.

"You are a coward!" he called; "if there was a boy here of your size, you would run like a rabbit, but I'm not afraid of you."

The fury of the bully was greater, if possible, than before, but he had been taught a lesson. He now approached more warily, but with the resolve that he would hammer this audacious champion till he couldn't stand.

"Decker, do you want me to help you?" called Almon Goodwin, hobbling a few steps forward; "I can give him one whack with my crutch."

"No; keep out of the way and don't bother me," replied James, never once removing his eyes from his assailant; "I'm not afraid of him."

Eyes glaring, nostrils snorting, Buck Kennon began slowly circling around the lad, looking for a chance to leap upon him unawares; but James was alert. He turned so as to confront him all the time, and did not intend to be surprised.

Suddenly the bully lunged forward. James met him as before, but in one sense Buck was braced against the reception which awaited him. He knew he would be struck and the blows that landed in his face were as severe as before, but they did not check him. He plowed ahead, and while Decker was trying to fight him off the latter retaliated several times and then clinched with him.

Buck was stronger than his more youthful antagonist, and despite the strenuous exertion of Decker, he went down on his back, with the bully on top. In a flash Decker turned him, and over and over they went, fighting like a couple of wild cats.

The probabilities are that, despite the courage and quickness of James Decker, he would have come out second best in the furious struggle. Could he have been able to hold his feet and prevent his foe from closing in, he would have defeated him, but when it became a contest of brute strength he must succumb.

Fortunately at this crisis, a newcomer appeared on the scene and proceeded straightway to take a decisive part in it. The individual was a portly, middle-aged gentleman, Mr. Elgin Willard, the most prominent citizen in the neighborhood. He had lately been elected to congress, and was taking a stroll, when he came upon the group of boys, all of whom were so interested in the fight that they did not notice him, until he made known his presence in what literally was a striking manner.

Mr. Willard always carried his gold-headed cane with him. It was a present from his admiring constituents and he was very proud of it. It pleased them, and it pleased him, to take it with him to church, to his office and wherever he went.

He arrived at the moment that Buck Kennon by sheer strength had twisted James Decker off his breast and swung himself over upon him. Decker held his assailant as close down as he could, so as to prevent his doing too much execution, but Buck was savage and was forcing matters. He was one of those boys who grow so fast that their clothing is always too tight for them, so he was peculiarly exposed to the new attack that was now made in hurricane fashion.

"Bless me! this is shameful!" exclaimed Mr. Willard striding forward; "two boys fighting, and one of them twice as big as the other! He will beat the life out of the little fellow! It was providential that I arrived when I did! There!"

The uplifted cane whizzed through the air and came down with a whack like the report of a fire cracker. It landed where it was intended, and Buck Kennon, with a yell of pain, leaped to his feet, vigorously rubbing the wounded portion of his body, caught up his hat and still insisting in a loud voice that he had been killed, disappeared down the road in a cloud of dust.

Now that he was out of the way, the Honorable Mr. Willard turned upon young Decker, who was climbing to his feet and brushing his clothes.

"Aren't you ashamed of yourself, young man? What do you mean by fighting that boy?"

"I was trying to prevent his licking me," replied James so demurely that the gentleman smiled in spite of himself.

"You ought to know better than to attack a boy of that size."

"I guess he'll know better than to attack me next time; I'm not afraid of him."

"Did he begin this fight?"

"Yes, sir."

"The coward! if I had known that I would have caned him harder than ever," exclaimed the congressman, turning and looking at the yelling youngster, who was far down the highway, as if he meditated starting after him; "why did he attack you?"

"Please, Mr. Willard, I'll tell you."

It was Almon Goodwin who came limping forward. Everybody knew the cripple, and Mr. Willard said kindly:

"Why, Almon, I didn't see you before; are you mixed up in this shameful business?"

"The only shameful part of it is what that big boy did. He took off my hat and threw a stone through it. Look what a hole he made, and it's the only hat I have; I cried and asked him to give it back, but he laughed at me and was going to throw another stone through it, when Decker there called him a coward, served his hat the same way, and then Buck Kennon went for him. My! didn't Jim let him have it! He must have loosened all his teeth and made his nose flatter than it ever was before. If he hadn't got down, he would have given him the worst licking he ever had."

Mr. Willard turned toward young Decker, who had replaced his hat, brushed his soiled garments, and was so well over his rough usage that he smiled at the words of little Almon Goodwin.

"Young man, is that so?" demanded the gentleman in a stern voice. "Did that bully attack you because you were defending Almon from his persecution?"

"Yes, sir," modestly replied Decker.

"Young man, come here, sir," thundered the congressman.

James stepped forward, wondering whether he, too, was to feel the weight of that black, shining cane.

"Give me your hand, sir; I'm proud of you, sir."

And warmly clasping the hand of James, the happy Mr. Willard shook it with fervor, while the other boys looked on and felt that it was deserved.

"What is your name?" asked Mr. Willard, releasing the hand and looking down into the handsome face of the boy.

"Decker."

"The son of Herbert Decker?"

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