Amos's face was almost livid in its paleness, as he stepped quickly forward and seized by the collar the apprentice, who, in his alarm, attempted to seek refuge behind the mulatto.

"If you ever so much as mention my uncle to me again, Hardy Baker, there will be serious trouble for you, and neither the 'b.l.o.o.d.y backs'

nor those who love liberty will interfere between us."

Then Amos, shaking Master Piemont's a.s.sistant much as a terrier shakes a rat, released his hold, and, as he walked away with his arm in Jim's, he heard Hardy cry, threateningly:

"Before this trouble is ended, you shall see what I can do!"

"It is such fellows as he who will bring discredit on the cause of liberty," Jim whispered. "You must be careful from this out, Amos, or that braggart will make good his threat."

[Footnote D: John Gray's ropewalk was situated near the present Post Office Square.]

[Footnote E: Near the former site of Brattle Street Church.]

CHAPTER IV.

A DISCOMFITED CREDITOR.

On Sat.u.r.day morning the city of Boston was in an ominous state of quietude.

That the citizens were restless and uneasy, even the most casual observer would have noted, as he walked through the streets where knots of men and boys were congregated at different points, discussing some subject with bated breath, and moving away whenever a stranger approached.

That the troops were defiant and suspicious was also evident. The soldiers did not walk through the streets singly, as had been their custom; but in groups--squads would be a more appropriate term, for they preserved some semblance of formation, even while lounging, as if prepared for an expected attack.

It had not been Amos's purpose to venture out on this morning, and he had very good reasons for remaining at home.

That which Hardy Baker had taunted him with on the evening previous still rankled in his mind, and he understood better now than before the encounter at Liberty Hall, that there were many who would not hesitate to remind him of the fact that it was his uncle who had deprived little Chris Snyder of life--his uncle, the informer, who had been the first to resist, with deadly weapons, the citizens in a demand for justice.

Amos was not a quarrelsome lad; although the acknowledged leader in his particular circle of friends, he had never been a bully, neither had he submitted tamely to an imposition.

He was fully determined to give Hardy Baker such a lesson on the evils of using his tongue ill-advisedly and without precaution, as he would not soon forget, although he did not intend to seek an interview with the apprentice, who fancied himself rapidly becoming a leader of men; but proposed to wait until he met the barber by chance rather than intention, and then he was resolved that Hardy should receive a very clear idea as to the necessity of curbing his speech.

The forenoon was well advanced when Jim Gray entered the house with an exclamation of surprise and satisfaction.

"I never counted on finding you at home on this day of all others; but just dropped in on the chance you might be here, since I have looked everywhere else. Why are you keeping so snug when there is so much going on?"

"What is being done? I heard no noise, and thought everything was quiet."

"It is not what is being done, as what may happen at any time," Jim replied, thoughtfully. "There is mischief in the air, and Liberty Hall is packed as full as it was last night."

"Surely the people will do nothing to-day, for it was understood yesterday that no demonstration was to be made until Monday."

"According to my way of thinking only a word is necessary to bring about considerable trouble. It is said that the citizens have demanded the removal of the troops, but Master Hutchinson will not listen to their complaints."

"And if he does not, how can anything be effected? Surely the people of Boston will not try conclusions against a regiment of soldiers."

"Some of the crowd are in the humour for anything desperate, and they are the ones with whom Hardy Baker has made friends. He is talking very fiercely now, and showing his blackened eye freely as a reason why there should be no delay in forcing the soldiers to leave the city."

"A blackened eye? Has he been fighting already?"

"I don't think he had much chance to do anything of that sort; but this is the story he told Chris Gore, from whose home I have just come: After the meeting last night, and when it had been fully decided that nothing should be done until Monday, Hardy, having an idea the Britishers would be frightened, thought it a good time to demand payment from Lieutenant Draper. Without heeding the warning which the officer gave him on the morning poor little Chris Snyder was killed, Hardy went to the Custom House again this forenoon, and says he simply asked to see the lieutenant; but most likely he was as insulting as when he met that officer on Hanover Street. The sentry knocked him down, and now Hardy shows the wound as his claim to be considered a living martyr. It may be exactly as he says, that the soldier had no provocation, other than the demand to see the lieutenant; but I don't believe that portion of the story, for after yesterday's troubles it isn't reasonable to suppose the troops would invite another conflict with the citizens. It is said they have been ordered to hold no communication whatever with the people, and it is positive that the sentry at the Custom House struck Hardy."

"I suppose he is now more violent than ever?"

"Yes, and has a stronger belief that his countrymen depend upon him to avenge their wrongs. Come down to Liberty Hall, and see him make a spectacle of himself."

"I think it is wiser for me to stay here."

"Why?" Jim asked, in surprise.

"Because, if I should meet Hardy now, while he is so puffed up with pride because he has been attacked by one of the enemy, he might say something which would lead to an encounter between us; and I don't think it would be well to raise any disturbance on the street at this time."

"Perhaps you are right; but yet--"

Jim was interrupted by the noise as of a heavy blow against the side of the house, which was repeated half a dozen times before either of the boys could step to the window.

Then came threatening cries:

"We have got one Richardson in jail; now bring out the others!"

"Drive out the informers!"

[Ill.u.s.tration]

"Boston is no place for a.s.sa.s.sins!"

By this time Amos and Jim were where they could look into the street; but a view of what was taking place there was not necessary to explain to them the cause of this sudden attack.

They knew that Master Piemont's a.s.sistant was making good his threat of the previous evening.

Ten or a dozen half-grown boys, with the barber's apprentice at their head, were pelting the house with missiles of every kind, and Amos's mother cried frantically, as her son was on the point of rushing out to put an end to the disturbance:

"Don't show yourself, my boy, don't show yourself! After what has happened, we must expect that the sins of your uncle will in some degree be visited upon us, and you must do nothing rash, particularly while your father is away from home."

"But, mother, this is only some of Hardy Baker's doings, and I can soon put an end to it, once I get that precious little villain by the throat."

"You would add to the disgrace by fighting on the street?"

"I would show the barber's apprentice that he can't insult honest people without bearing the consequences."

"Come on!" Jim cried, impatiently. "Two of us can handle that crowd!"

Mrs. Richardson clung to her son imploringly, crying that he would be killed if he ventured into the street, and there seemed good reason for her fears, since if any one of the missiles, which were being hurled so freely against the building, should strike him, it would inflict serious injury.