"What did you do with it, you villain?" gasped Ezekiel.

"I dropped it off the railroad wharf upon the rocks; and there isn't a piece left of it big enough to stop a mouse hole."

"You did--did you?"

"I did," added Robert, desperately, as he braced himself to brave the consequences of his bold deed.

"What business had you to meddle with my property?" demanded Ezekiel, furiously.

"It was a kind of property that don't make any man the richer," replied the youth.

"Who told you to do it?" asked the inebriate, glancing at his wife.

"No one told me, and no one knew anything about it."

"Then I'll teach you to steal my property! I'll take it out of your hide, you rascal."

"There isn't any of it in my hide, and I don't mean there ever shall be."

Ezekiel took down a clothes-stick which was hanging against the wall, and with it he made a dive and a plunge at Robert. The boy was too active to be caught by a man whose footing was none too steady. He easily dodged the blows which were aimed at him, till the tippler, out of breath from his exertions, placed himself before the door to prevent the escape of the culprit, and there rested himself from the fatigue of the onslaught.

"Don't you strike that boy," said Mrs. Taylor, warmly; and she had before essayed to suspend the strife.

"Yes I will! I'll flog him within an inch of his life. I'll teach him to meddle with my property," gasped Ezekiel.

"If you do, I'll leave this house, and never come into it again. I won't have no such goings on where I am," said the woman, warmly and energetically.

"That's right, mother; you leave," added Robert, who had remained in the room only to turn the wrath of the husband from her to himself.

"He shan't hurt you, Robert. I'll stand up for you to the end," added Mrs. Taylor, as she pa.s.sed into her chamber, which was next to the "living-room."

"I don't care who goes, nor who stays. I ain't a going to have any such works as this," continued Ezekiel, as he gathered himself up for another attack. "I ain't a going to have my property, that cost money, destroyed, and you won't want to do such a thing again, I can tell you."

The angry man rushed towards Robert, who stood near the door which opened into the front entry; but he knew that it was locked, and so he did not attempt to escape in that direction. Being in the corner, his furious a.s.sailant attempted to pin him there; but Robert, by a flank movement, reached the door which led to the wood-shed, and pa.s.sed out.

He was closely pursued by Ezekiel; but the tipsy man might as well have attempted to catch a wild antelope. The boy dodged around the wood-shed and other buildings till he had thrown his pursuer off the track; then he went to the back window of his mother's chamber to a.s.sure himself that she was still safe. She was putting on her bonnet and shawl, with the evident intention of leaving the house.

"Did he strike you, Robert?" she asked, through the open window, with more of indignation than terror in her manner.

"Not he," replied Robert. "I can keep out of his way easy enough."

"Don't go near him again--that's a good boy. There's no knowing what he may do. He's as ugly as sin when he has had two or three gla.s.ses and wants more."

"But where are you going, mother?" asked the boy.

"I don't know where to go yet; but I'm not going to stay here to-day. I can't bear it any longer. You will keep out of his way--won't you, Robert?"

"I'm not afraid of him; but I'm going out a fishing as soon as the tide makes enough to get the boat off."

"Well, I'll go up and spend the day with Mrs. Paine," added Mrs. Taylor.

"I hope your father will get over it before night."

"I've got about enough of this, mother; and if it wasn't for you, I'd clear out this very day."

"Don't leave me yet, Robert," pleaded the poor woman. "I mean to leave him myself if he don't behave better. He shan't abuse you."

"I don't mean he shall. But I think I can take care of myself better than you can of yourself."

Mrs. Taylor did not think so; but she did not dispute the point. The approach of Ezekiel caused the youth to beat another retreat; but, from the other side of the street, he saw his mother leave the house and walk towards the village. Satisfied that she was safe from the wrath of her brutal husband, he soon followed her, though he did not overtake her, for his course, after a short distance, led him in another direction.

"I'm glad that man is not my father," muttered Robert to himself, as he walked towards the village.

A knowledge of this fact had come to him only a few days before, and it was a great relief to him, for certainly there was no meaner man in Camden than Ezekiel Taylor. He was sorry that he had ever been permitted even to bear his name. He was sixteen years old, though, for his age, he was rather short. But he was a stout, wiry, athletic little fellow. He was just as much puzzled as the rest of the town's people to know how his mother contrived to feed and clothe herself and him, when it was patent to everybody that her husband spent all that he earned for rum.

She always had money enough to buy a beefsteak and to pay her store bill. When everything seemed to have "gone to the dogs," and his last suit of clothes was out at the elbows, she astonished him by getting a new suit. The coat had very brief skirts, after the fashion then prevailing. On his short, stubbed form, it gave him a peculiar appearance, which promptly attracted the attention of his companions, when he went to church and Sunday school, after a long absence caused by the want of suitable clothing. The boys called him "Bob Taylor;" but when this coat appeared, they cut off one syllable, and made his cognomen "Bobtail," which soon became "Little Bobtail," for he was often called little Bob Taylor before, by the larger boys.

Robert was disposed to resent all these liberties with his name; but as Squire Gilfilian, the hotel keeper, and the deputy collector of the port, good-naturedly adopted the fashion of the youngsters, he was compelled to acquiesce. After all, there was not much difference between Little Bobtail and little Bob Taylor, certainly not enough to quarrel about.

Robert went to the post-office, not because he expected any letters,--for he had no correspondence,--but because a great many people went there when the mail arrived. He was always ready to make a quarter when an opportunity presented. He spent half his time on the water in the summer, and knew all about a boat. Sometimes the strangers at the hotel wanted him to go out with them, and indicate the best places to catch cod, haddock, and mackerel, and sometimes there was an errand to be done.

"Little Bobtail!" shouted the post-master through his window, as Robert entered the office.

He went up to the window, and asked what was wanted.

"Here is a letter for Squire Gilfilian, who was in a desperate hurry to get it, if one came," added the post-master. "Will you carry it up to his office?"

"Yes, sir," replied Little Bobtail, promptly.

"Here is another for Captain c.h.i.n.ks. I think he is at the squire's office, for they just went up the street together. You may as well take it along."

Robert took the two letters, and hastened to the squire's office. As he entered, Captain c.h.i.n.ks came out of the rear apartment, where the lawyer held his private conferences with his clients.

"Here's a letter for you, sir," said Robert, as he handed one of them to the captain, who immediately tore it open.

"Thank you, Little Bobtail," said Captain c.h.i.n.ks, taking a quarter in scrip from his vest pocket, and giving it to him.

"I am very much obliged to you, Captain c.h.i.n.ks," replied Robert, glad to earn a quarter so easily. "Is Squire Gilfilian in that room?"

"Yes; but he's busy."

"I have a letter for him."

"Put it on the table, and he will find it when he comes out; on his writing desk there."

Little Bobtail tossed the letter on the desk, and left the office, thinking only of the quarter he had just made, and how he should invest it to the best advantage in provisioning the old boat with which he intended to go a fishing that day. A sheet of gingerbread and a "hunk of cheese," as he expressed it, seemed to suit the emergencies of the occasion; and after purchasing these articles, he walked down the road leading to the Portland steamboat wharf. He had gone but a short distance before he overtook Captain c.h.i.n.ks, who was reading the letter he just received as he walked along the plank sidewalk.

Captain c.h.i.n.ks, who was, possibly, a distant relative of him of the horse-marines, though his name had become corrupted, was a man of doubtful reputation. The officials of the custom-house kept a sharp eye upon him, and endeavored to connect him with certain irregular transactions, whereby sundry cases of brandy and sundry boxes of cigars had come into Camden without paying tribute to the majesty of the custom-house. The goods were seized, and duly confiscated; but there was a link wanting in the chain of testimony which connected Captain c.h.i.n.ks with the affair. Robert supposed he had been consulting Squire Gilfilian about the matter; and the youth judged from the angry look of the captain that the lawyer had not been able to afford him any satisfaction.

Captain c.h.i.n.ks read his letter, and made his way down to the steamboat wharf. As Bobtail ran his old boat by the end of the pier, he saw the man of doubtful reputation go on board of the steamer, and noticed him on her deck when she started.

That afternoon Robert sold a good mess of fish at the market, and went home to the cottage, which was on the road leading to the steamboat wharf. Ezekiel was not there, but his mother was. As the tippler could not obtain the liquor for a spree, he had become sober. He went to work the next day, and a temporary peace was patched up. He offered no violence to the boy while he was sober, but this was only for a brief period. In a few days he obtained another jug of rum, and Robert and his mother were obliged to abandon the house to him.