Chapter III

DANIEL AND HIS FATHER—A TROUBLED CONSCIENCE.

IN the meantime what has become of Daniel?

When he reached home he found his father at work on a patch of ground behind the house and his older brother cleaning fish in the stoop.

"Where have you been, you young scamp?" inquired Mr. Crawson, sternly gazing at his son.

"To school, sir," was the prompt reply.

"Where were you at recess? I was going by, and stopped to speak to you; but you were not in the playground."

"Oh!" murmured Daniel in some confusion, "I didn't know my lesson, and I had to stay in. Teacher kept me an hour after school to get it and recite it."

"I should like to know what you go to school for; but to get your lessons? If I hear of such conduct again I'll take you away mighty quick. I'm not going to slave myself going of errands to have you lounging away your time over your books. Now go right into the house and change your clothes, and help Amos about those fish. Every one of 'em has got to be cleaned, and salted down in the tubs before supper. Don't be gone a minute if you know what is good for yourself," shouted his father, as he saw an ugly pout on the boy's face.

"I'll be just as long as I please," muttered Daniel between his teeth, "and I wont clean many fish you'd better believe."

But though. Daniel was angry that he had been questioned, and that he had been set to the business which he specially disliked, though he muttered over and over that he would not be ordered about by anybody; yet he knew too well what would happen if he did not obey. He therefore kicked off his shoes, threw his school pants across the room, and dressed himself for work without any unnecessary delay.

Amos Crawson was fifteen years old; and Daniel, eleven. They did not agree very well either at their work or play.

"There's your part," said Amos pointing to a large pile separate from the other.

"I wont do all those," growled Dan, casting a glance over the fence toward his father.

Amos only laughed.

"My knife is awful dull; I shall never get done with this old thing."

"Sharpen his knife, Amos," said Mr. Crawson sternly; "the steel is on the window sill."

The first, fish was only half cleaned when Daniel screamed and held up his finger where there was a slight cut.

"I can't do any more, it smarts so," he said in a sulky tone.

"Very well, mine will be done presently," said Amos beginning to whistle.

"Mother, I want a rag. I've cut my finger," shouted Dan at the foot of the stairs.

"Get one then. You know where they are," said his mother.

Tearing off a piece of cloth from a bundle in the drawer, the boy presently made his appearance on the stoop holding his cut finger with his well hand.

"You think you've got off finely; but I guess you're mistaken," said Amos, jerking his brother's elbow with a disagreeable laugh.

"I shan't touch one of them fish with my sore finger."

"What'll you bet?" queried Amos, glancing in his brother's face with a sneer.

"Boys you'd better be at work than to spend your time jabbering," said Mr. Crawson sternly.

"Where were you going with Jimmy Dodge?" whispered Amos with another laugh. "Down to the pond to get your lessons on the boat, hey?"

Daniel started to his feet, his face growing very red, and caught the knife in a hurry. Notwithstanding his cut, he threw one fish after another into the basket behind him, while Amos laughed, and shook his sides.

"That's something like," exclaimed his father, leaning his hoe against the fence and coming to the stoop. "Amos bring me the salt. Dan, you're a smart chap, if you only set about a thing in earnest. Now we'll have 'em out of the way in ten minutes."

"Hold on there, wife?" as he heard the supper bell. "I can't leave this 'ere job."

Mrs. Crawson had a good supper of fried fish and fried potatoes ready for them, of which the family partook with a relish, talking and laughing meanwhile. Daniel did not talk nor laugh. He was wondering why Amos had not told his father what he had seen, and what the old man, as he called his father, would do to him, if he knew that he had played truant again; been out in the boat and lied about it.

"What's the matter?" whispered Amos punching his brother under the table.

"Nothing," muttered Dan. "You just let me alone."

"You needn't be so cross. Water don't agree with you, does it?"

"Don't!" plead Daniel. "I'll give yer my jack knife if yer'll keep quiet."

Amos laughed and nodded as a token that he accepted the bargain, and presently they rose from the table.

"Get the wheelbarrow, boys; and carry off those weeds. I'm going to finish the sarse-garden if it don't get too dark. You must do up the rest of the chores. Amos, you feed the horse well, and scrape up that fish offal for the chickens."

It was nearly nine before Daniel went up into the rough attic chamber where he and his brother slept. He was out of sorts, and ready to quarrel with anybody. This was not the first nor the twentieth time that he had played truant, and told lies to cover his sin. His conscience had often plead with him to confess to his parents, and begin to do better; but as he had never heeded the still small voice, it now seldom troubled him. But Amos had seen him going toward the pond, and had shrewdly guessed the rest. He was angry that he had been obliged to give up his new jack knife, a present from his cousin on his birth-day. Perhaps Amos would not keep to the bargain after all, and then he knew what there would be to pay.

Daniel shivered. He could almost hear the leather strap whiz through the air. The old man believed in whipping bad boys; and he had not a very light hand, as his two sons well knew.

Daniel threw off his clothes and stretched himself on the bed; but he could hear Amos laughing and talking to their mother in his coarse voice, and he could not sleep.

"I don't think boating pays," he said at last; "though we did have a good time; but there's always such a fuss."