The All-Story, March 1914 — page 169: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

642 THE ALL-STORY ALAGAZINE. ference between this and other boys. For Ike's skin was so hot that it seemed fairly to scorch his knuckles. “Perhaps he’s got a fever and I hadn’t ought to wallop hin,” thought Sam.” Ike commenced to whiunper. “You let go of me. Sam Tupper!” he cried. “I tell you there ain't going to be no church in Oxville. and you ain't going to give that spruce to Dr. Foster, If there’s a church built, Uncle Peter will make me go, and I don’t want to go to church.” “Is that it, you young imp?” said Sam. “ Just because you don't want to go to church you don’t want anybody else to! Now let ime tell you Ive de- cided to give that spruce to Dr. Foster, and you can get out of here just as soon as ever you please.” Tle released the boy, who sprang back to a safe distance. There was so ugly an expression on his tace that Sain was almost frightened until he re- membered that after all it was only Peter Jackson’s orphan boy Ike, whom he had known ever since he was a baby. But little by little the lad wiped out the lines of anger and hate and a sly look stole into his eyes. “T didn’t mean no harm. Mr. Tup- per.’ he whined plaintively. ‘‘ Only it didn't seem as if it was just right to ask you to give all that spruce, that’s worth a lot of money; and, besides—”’ “Besides what?’ demanded Sam, filling in the pause. “Tt wouldn’t be lucky for you.” At these words, sounding so much like a threat, Sam made a step toward the boy. Before he could take a second Ike had the door open and was ready to fly. Then Sam’s curiosity’ overcame him. “Tt wouldn't, wouldn’t it? Now, I'd just like to know what you mean by that?” ‘T mean,” said Ike, “ that you'd have a lot of trouble over it. You had some already, didn't you, when the dog bit your old ram the other night?” The farmer stared at Ike Jackson in utter disbelier. Was this the viper Ox- ville had warmed in its bosom? Was this the heipless foundling he and Wes had chanced upon in the lee of a hay- cock 7 {t was the same boy, yet not the same, There was now a suggestion of the sinister and purposeful in his bearing which had never been there before. His ugly face leered, his big eyes blazed with meaning, and Sam felt a cold shiver make a round trip up and down his spine. The next moment he recalled him- selt to life's realities. Once again he repeated that this was only Ike Jackson, and he had had the impudence to try to frighten him. Sam Tupper, a solid and respected citizen of Oxville, with disaster 1 he tollowed his own gener- ous impulses. His anger flared up. “You dumb snippet, P’ve a good mind to take you across my knees and give you a real old-fashioned hiding,” he fumed. ‘Coming round here to sass.tne when I’m busy. Now you get out of here. and if I see your face round my farm again in a month I'll larrup the stuffing out of you. Get out, do you hear?” But the boy did not move. Neither did he answer at first. He seemed about to speak when the injured ram. Bucyrus, took the words out of his mouth, and Sam heard with fresh emotion this counsel: “Keep vour shirt on, Sam. Don't get angry.” He resolved to look at his pet. which fixed him with its light-gray eyes. The situation was quite beyond the farmer’s: understanding. He threw up_ both hands with an expression of bafflement and sank on the upturned bushel-basket he had offered only a short time before to his Uncle Peter. “That's right, Sam: keep cool,” ap- proved the ram. “T told vou animals could talk, Mr. Tupper.” Ike broke in. “ Didn't Ne- cessity speak to me just this afternoon? You ask Dr. Foster. and he will tell you whether or not themareicaps talk. oo