FullReads

Notice

Anyone found fishing on my pond at Carleton after
date will be prosecuted according to law, without
respect of persons.

June First.
H.C. Walters.

“Oh, Danny, what does it mean?”

Dan went and carefully closed the door of Ella May’s room before he replied. His face was pale and his voice shaky.

“Mean? Well, Mother, it just means that I’ve been stealing Mr. Walters’s trout all summer–stealing them. That’s what it means.”

“Oh, Danny! But you didn’t know.”

“No, but I ought to have remembered that he was the new owner, and have asked him. I never thought. Mother, what does ‘prosecuted according to law’ mean?”

“I don’t know, I’m sure, Danny. But if this is so, there’s only one thing to be done. You must go straight to Mr. Walters and tell him all about it.”

“Mother, I don’t dare to. He is a dreadfully hard man. Sam French’s father says–“

“I wouldn’t believe a word Sam French’s father says about Mr. Walters!” said Mrs. Phillips firmly. “He’s got a spite against him because he was dismissed. Besides, Danny, it’s the only right thing to do. You know that. We’re poor, but we have never done anything underhand yet.”

“Yes, Mother, I know,” said Dan, gulping his fear bravely down. “I’ll go, of course, right after dinner. I was only scared at first. I’ll tell you what I’ll do. I’ll clean these trout nicely and take them to Mr. Walters, and tell him that, if he’ll only give me time, I’ll pay him back every cent of money I got for all I sold this summer. Then maybe he’ll let me off, seeing as I didn’t know about the notice.”

“I’ll go with you, Danny.”

“No, I’ll go alone, Mother. You needn’t go with me,” said Dan heroically. To himself he said that his mother had troubles enough. He would never subject her to the added ordeal of an interview with the stern factory owner. He would beard the lion in his den himself, if it had to be done.

“Don’t tell Ella May anything about it. It would worry her. And don’t cry, Mother, I guess it’ll be all right. Let me have my dinner now and I’ll go straight off.”

Dan ate his dinner rapidly; then he carefully cleaned his trout, put them in a long basket, with rhubarb leaves over them, and started with an assumed cheerfulness very far from his real feelings.

He had barely passed the gate when another boy came shuffling along–a tall, raw-boned lad, with an insinuating smile and shifty, cunning eyes. The newcomer nodded familiarly to Dan.

“Hello, sonny. Going over to the Lake with your catch, are you? You’ll fry up before you get there. There’ll be nothing left of you but a crisp.”

“No, I’m not going to the Lake. I’m going up to the factory to see Mr. Walters.”

Sam French gave a long whistle of surprise.

“Why, Dan, what’s taking you there? You surely ain’t thinking of trying for that place, are you? Walters wouldn’t look at you. Why, he wouldn’t take me! You haven’t the ghost of a chance.”

“No, I’m not going for that. Sam, did you know that Mr. Walters had a notice in the Lake Advertiser that nobody could fish in his pond this summer?”

“Course I did–the old skinflint! He’s too mean to live, that’s what. He never goes near the pond himself. Regular dog in the manger, he is. Dad says–“

“Sam, why didn’t you tell me about that notice?”

“Gracious, didn’t you know? I s’posed everybody did, and here I’ve been taking you for the cutest chap this side of sunset–fishing away up in that creek where no one could see you, and cutting home through the woods on the sly. You don’t mean to tell me you never saw that notice?”

“No, I didn’t. Do you think I’d have gone near the pond if I had? I never saw it till today, and I’m going straight to Mr. Walters now to tell him about it.”