Chapter 8

DOGS IN THE MANGER.

David would not have been as happy as he was if he had known all that was going on in the settlement. As it happened, his father and brother were not the only ones he had to fear. These two had an eye on the money he expected to earn by trapping the quails, and for that reason they were not disposed to interfere with him until his work was all done and he had reaped the reward of it; but there were two others who had suddenly made up their minds that it was unsportsmanlike to trap birds and that it should not be done if they could prevent it. They were Lester Brigham and his particular friend and crony--almost the only one he had in the settlement, in fact--Bob Owens.

Bob lived about two miles from General Gordon's, and might have made one of the select little company of fellows with whom Don and Bert delighted to associate, if he had been so inclined. But he was much like Dan Evans in a good many respects, and had been guilty of so many mean actions that he had driven almost all his friends away from him. He rode over to the General's about twice each week, and while he was there he was treated as civilly and kindly as every other visitor was: but the brothers never returned his visits, and would have been much better satisfied if Bob had stayed at home.

These two boys, Lester and Bob, were determined that David should not earn the hundred and fifty dollars if they could help it, and they knew that by annoying him in every possible way, they would annoy Don and Bert, too: and that was really what they wanted to do. What reason had they for wishing to annoy Don and Bert? No good reason. Did you ever see a youth who was popular among his fellows, and who was liked by almost everybody, both old and young, who did not have at least one enemy in some sneaking boy, who would gladly injure him by every means in his power? Lester and Bob were jealous of Don and Bert, that was the secret of the matter; and more than that, they were disappointed applicants for the very contract which Don had secured for David.

Bob regularly borrowed and read the "_Rod and Gun_," and when his eye fell upon the advertisement calling for fifty dozen live quails, he thought he saw a chance to make a goodly sum of pocket money, and hurried off to lay the matter before his friend Lester, proposing that they should go into partnership and divide the profits. Of course Lester entered heartily into the scheme. He knew nothing about building and setting traps, but Bob did, and when they had discussed the matter and calculated their chances for success, they told each other that in two weeks' time the required number of birds would be on their way up the river. That very day Bob addressed a letter to the advertiser, and as soon as it was sent off he and Lester went to work on the traps.

It is hardly necessary to say that they lived in a fever of excitement and suspense after that, and anxiously awaited an answer from the gentleman who wanted the quails. The mail was brought in by the carrier from the county seat, on Wednesday and Friday afternoons, and Bob and Lester made it a point to be on hand when the letters were distributed. One Wednesday, about two weeks after the letter applying for the order was mailed, Bob went down to the post-office alone, and the first person he met there was Bert Gordon. They leaned against the counter and talked while the mail was being put into the boxes, and when the pigeon-hole was opened, the postmaster handed each of them a good-sized bundle of letters and papers, which they began to stow away in their pockets, glancing hastily at the addresses as they did so. It happened that each of them found a letter in his bundle, which attracted his attention, and, as if moved by a common impulse, they walked toward opposite ends of the counter to read them.

The letter Bert found was addressed to Don; but he was pretty certain he could tell where it came from, and knowing that his brother wouldn't care--there were no secrets between them, now--he opened and read it. He was entirely satisfied with its contents, but the other boy was not so well satisfied with the contents of his. When Bert picked up his riding-whip and turned to leave the store, he saw Bob leaning against the counter, mechanically folding his letter, while his eyes were fastened upon the floor, at which he was scowling savagely.

"What's the matter?" asked Bert. "No bad news, I hope."

"Well, it is bad news," replied Bob, so snappishly, that Bert was sorry that he had spoken to him at all. "You see, I found an advertisement in one of your father's papers, asking for live quails. I wrote to the man that I could furnish them, and I have just received an answer from him, stating that he has already sent the order to another party, and one who lives in my immediate neighborhood. What's the matter with you?" exclaimed Bob, as Bert broke out into a cheery laugh.

"When did you write to him?" asked Bert.

"On the very day I borrowed the paper."

"Well, Don was just three days ahead of you. I've got the order in my pocket."

"What do you and Don want to go into the trapping business for?" asked Bob, with ill-concealed disgust. "You don't need the money."

"Neither do you," replied Bert.

"Yes, I do. I intended to buy a new shot-gun with it. I am almost the only decent fellow in the settlement who doesn't own a breech-loader. I have racked my brain for months, to think up some way to earn money enough to get one, and when I am just about to accomplish my object, you and Don have to jump up and rob me of the chance. The man tells me that he would be glad to give me the contract, if he hadn't given it to you. I've a good notion to slap you over."

"It isn't for us," replied Bert. "It is for Dave Evans; and I think you will acknowledge that he needs the money if anybody does."

"Dave Evans!" sneered Bob.

"Yes; and he needs clothes and food more than you need a new shot-gun."

"I guess I know what I want and how much I want it," retorted Bob. "I'm to be shoved aside to give place to that lazy ragamuffin, am I? If I don't make you wish that you had kept your nose out of my business, I'm a Dutchman."

Bert did not wait to hear all of this speech. Seeing that Bob was getting angrier every minute, and that his rage was likely to get the better of him, he drew on his gloves, mounted his pony and set out for home. Bob followed a quarter of a mile or so in his rear, and once or twice he whipped up his horse and closed in on Bert as if he had made up his mind to carry out his threat of slapping him over. But every time he did so a sturdy, broad-shouldered figure, with a face that looked wonderfully like Don Gordon's, seemed to come between him and the unconscious object of his pursuit, and then Bob would rein in his horse and let Bert get farther ahead of him. Presently Bob came to a road running at right angles with the one he was following, and there he stopped, for he saw Lester Brigham approaching at a full gallop. The latter was by his side in a few seconds, and his first question was:--

"Been to the post-office?"

"I have, and there's the letter on which I built so many hopes," replied Bob, handing out the document which he had crumpled into a little round ball. "We were too late. The order has been given to that meddlesome fellow, Don."

Lester looked first at his companion, then at Bert, who was now almost out of sight, and began to gather up his reins.

"You'd better not do it, unless you want to feel the weight of his brother's arm," said Bob, who seemed to read the thoughts that were passing through Lester's mind. "I gave him a good going-over, and told him I had a notion to knock him down."

"Why didn't you do it?" exclaimed Lester. "I'd have backed you against Don or anybody else."

"Haw! haw!" laughed Bob. "I shall want _good_ backing before I willingly raise a row in that quarter, I tell you."

"What do you mean by that?" demanded Lester.

"O, I was just joking, of course. But what's to be done about this business? Don got the contract for Dave Evans, and I want to know if we are to be kicked out of the way to make room for him."

Lester did not reply at once. He did not feel very highly flattered by the low estimate Bob seemed to put upon him as a "backer" in case of trouble with Don Gordon, and while he was trying to make up his mind whether he ought to let it pass or get sulky over it, he was unfolding and smoothing out the letter he held in his hand. When he had made himself master of its contents, he said:--

"You come over and stay with me to-night, and we'll put our heads together and see what we can make of this. I must go down to the store now, and I'll meet you here in half an hour. That will give you time enough to go home and speak to your folks."

Bob spent the night at Lester's house, and it was during the long conversation they had before they went to sleep, that they made up their minds that it was a mean piece of business to trap quails, and that nobody but a miserable pot-hunter would do it. They adopted the dog-in-the-manger policy at once. If they could not trap the birds, nobody should; and that was about all they could decide on just then.

The next morning after breakfast they mounted their horses and rode in company, until they came to the lane that led to Bob's home and there they parted, Lester directing his course down the main road toward the cabin in which David Evans lived. He met David in the road, as we know, and laid down the law to him in pretty strong language; but strange enough the latter could not be coaxed or frightened into promising that he would give up his chance of earning a hundred and fifty dollars.

Lester was in a towering passion when he rode away after his conversation with David. Lashing his horse into a run, he turned into the first road he came to, and after a two-mile gallop, drew rein in front of the double log-house in which Bob Owens lived. There was an empty wagon-shed on the opposite side of the road, and there he found Bob, standing with his hands in his pockets, and gazing ruefully at the pile of traps upon which he and Lester had worked so industriously, and which he had hoped would bring them in a nice little sum of spending money.

"Well, did you see him?" asked Bob, as his friend rode up to the shed and swung himself out of the saddle.

"I did," was the reply, "and he was as defiant as you please. He was downright insolent."

"These white trash are as impudent as the niggers," said Bob, "and no one who has the least respect for himself will have anything to do with them. I used to think that Don Gordon was something of an aristocrat, but now I know better."

"I wish I had given him a good cowhiding," continued Lester, who did not think it worth while to state that he had been on the point of attempting that very thing, but had thought better of it when he saw how resolutely David stood his ground. "But never mind. We'll get even with him. We'll touch his pocket, and that will hurt him worse than a whipping. It will hurt the Gordons, too."

"Then he wouldn't promise to give up the idea of catching them quails? I am sorry, for if we could only frighten him off the track, we would write to that man up North telling him that the party with whom he made his contract wasn't able to fill it, but we could catch all the birds he wants in two weeks."

"That's a good idea--a splendid idea!" exclaimed Lester; "and perhaps we'll do it any how, if the plan I have thought of doesn't prove successful."

Lester then went on to repeat the conversation he had had with David, as nearly as he could recall it, and wound up by saying:--

"I told him that we were going to start a Sportsman's Club among the fellows, and that after we got fairly going, our first hard work should be to break up this practice of trapping birds. Of course that wasn't true--I just happened to think of it while I was talking to him--but why can't we make it true? If all the boys will join in with us, I'd like to see him do any trapping this winter."

"But who can we get to go in with us?"

"We'll ask Don and Bert the first thing."

"Nary time," exclaimed Bob, quickly. "If they are the sort you're going to get to join your club, you may just count me out. I don't like them."

"You like them just as well as I do; but we have an object to gain, and we mustn't allow our personal feelings to stand in our way."

"Do you suppose Don would join such a club after getting Dave the job?"

"Perhaps he would. He likes to be first in everything, doesn't he?"

"I should say so," replied Bob, in great disgust. "I never saw a fellow try to shove himself ahead as that Don Gordon does."

"Well, we'll flatter him by offering to make him President of the club; and we'll promise to make Bert Vice or Secretary."

"I'll not vote for either of them."

"Yes, you will. We want to get them on our side; for if they promise to go in with us every boy in the settlement will do the same."

"That's what makes me so mad every time I think of those Gordons," exclaimed Bob, spitefully throwing down a stick which he had been cutting with his knife. "Every fellow about here, except you and me, is ready to hang on to their coat tails and do just what they do. One would think by the way they act that they belonged to some royal family. They don't notice me at all. They've had a crowd of boys in that shooting-box of theirs every spring and fall since I can remember, and I have never had an invitation to go there yet. They take along a nigger to cook for them, and have a high old time shooting over their decoys; but the first thing they know they'll find that shanty missing some fine morning. I'll set fire to it."

"Don't say that out loud," said Lester, quickly, at the same time extending his hand to his companion, as if to show that what he had said met his own views exactly. "Don't so much as hint it to a living person. We'll give them a chance to make friends with us if they want to, and if they don't, let them take the consequences. But we can talk about that some other time. What do you say to getting up a Sportsman's Club?"

Bob did not know what to say, for he had never heard of such a thing until he became acquainted with Lester. The latter explained the objects of such organizations as well as he could, and after some debate they crossed over to the house, intending to go into Bob's room and draw up a constitution for the government of the proposed society. On the way Bob suddenly thought of something.

"You and I want to earn this money, don't we?" said he. "That's what we're working for, isn't it? Well, now, if we put a stop to trapping, how are we going to do it?"

"This is the way we're going to do it: we'll drive Dave Evans off the track first. When that is done, we'll tell that man up North that we are the only one's here who can fill his order. Then we'll go quietly to work and catch our birds, saying nothing to nobody about it, and when we have trapped all we want, we'll ship them off."

"But somebody will see us when we are putting them on the boat."

"No matter for that. The mischief will be done, and we'll see how Don and Dave will help themselves. We can afford to be indifferent to them when we have seventy-five dollars apiece in our pockets, can't we?"

"Lester, you're a brick!" exclaimed Bob. "I never could have thought up such a plot. I'll have my gun after all."

"Of course you will."

"And what will become of the club?"

"We don't care what becomes of it. Having served our purpose, it can go to smash and welcome. Now will you vote for Don and Bert?"

"I'll be only too glad to get the chance. But you'll have to manage the thing, Lester."

"I'll do that. All I ask of you is to talk the matter up among the boys, that is, if Don and Bert agree to join us, and put in your vote when the time comes."

The two friends spent the best part of the day in Bob's room, drawing up the constitution that was to govern their society. Lester, who did all the writing, had never seen a document of the kind, and having nothing to guide him he made rather poor work of it. He had read a few extracts from game laws, and remembered that Greek and Latin names were used therein. He could recall some of these names, and he put them in as they occurred to him, and talked about them so glibly, and appeared to be so thoroughly posted in natural history that Bob was greatly astonished. Of course there was a clause in the instrument prohibiting pot-hunting and the snaring of birds, and that was as strong as language could make it. The work being done at last to the satisfaction of both the boys, Lester mounted his horse and galloped away in the direction of Don Gordon's home.