第15章 A LICKING OR A LIE(3)

James Moore and Parson Leggy accompanied him to the bridge over the Wastrel, and stood a while watching as he disappeared into the summer night.

"Yon's a good lad," said the Master half to himself.

"Yes," the parson replied ; "I always thought there was good in the boy, if only his father'd give him a chance. And look at the way Owd Bob there follows him. There's not another soul outside Kenmuir he'd do that for.""Ay, sir," said the Master. "Bob knows a mon when he sees one.""He does," acquiesced the other. "And by the by, James, the talk in the village is that you've settled not to run him for the Cup. Is, that so?"The Master nodded.

"It is, sir. They're all mad I should, but I mun cross 'em. They say he's reached his prime--and so he has o' his body, but not o' his brain. And a sheep-dog--unlike other dogs--is not at his best till his brain is at its best--and that takes a while developin', same as in a mon, I reck'n.""Well, well," said the parson, pulling out a favorite phrase, "waiting's winning--waiting's winning."David slipped up into his room and into bed unseen, he hoped.

Alone with the darkness, he allowed himself the rare relief of tears; and at length fell asleep. He awoke to find his father standing at his bedside. The little man held a feeble dip-candle in his hand, which lit his sallow face in crude black and white. In the doorway, dimly outlined, was the great figure of Red Wull.

"Whaur ha' ye been the day?" the little man asked. Then, looking down on the white stained face beneath him, he added hurriedly:

"If ye like to lie, I'll believe ye."

David was out of bed and standing up in his night-shirt. He looked at his father contemptuously.

"I ha' bin at Kenmuir. I'll not lie for yo' ur your likes," he said proudly.

The little man shrugged his shoulders.

" 'Tell a lee and stick to it,'is my rule, and. a good one, too, in honest England. I for one 'II no think ony the worse o' ye if yer memory plays yer false.""D'yo' think I care a kick what yo' think o' me?" the boy asked brutally. "Nay; there's 'nough liars in this fam'ly wi'oot me."The candle trembled and was still again.

"A lickin' or a lie--tak' yer choice!"

The boy looked scornfully down on his father. Standing on his naked feet, he already towered half a head above the other and was twice the man.

"D'yo' think I'm fear'd o' a thrashin' fra yo'? Goo' gracious me!" he sneered. "Why, I'd as lief let owd Grammer Maddox lick me, for all I care."A reference to his physical insufficiencies fired the little man as surely as a lighted match powder.

"Ye maun be cauld, standin' there so. Rin ye doon and fetch oor little frien' "--a reference to a certain strap hanging in the kitchen.

"I'll see if I can warm ye."

David turned and stumbled down the unlit, narrow stairs. The hard, cold boards struck like death against his naked feet. At his heels followed Red Wull, his hot breath fanning the boy's bare legs.

So into the kitchen and back up the stairs, and Red Wull always following.

"I'll no despair yet o' teachin' ye the fifth commandment, though Ikill masel' in doin' it!" cried the little man, seizing the strap from the boy's numb grasp.

When it was over, M'Adam turned, breathless, away. At the threshold of the room he stopped and looked round: a little, dim-lit, devilish figure, framed in the door; while from the blackness behind, Red Wull's eyes gleamed yellow.

Glancing back, the little man caught such an expression on David's face that for once he was fairly afraid. He banged the door and hobbled actively down the stairs.