It must be confessed that the knowledge of
the little sum of money tucked away under the rosebush gave him a
bolder outlook on the future.
Hiram Keppler, who owned the farm just beyond the Peabody place,
gave them a lift as far as their lane, and as they hurried down the
road Betty tried her best to master her dread of the coming
interview. She had not a doubt but that Bob's absence would have been
noticed. Looking ahead fearfully, she saw a sight that confirmed her
worst forebodings.
Joseph Peabody stood at the barnyard gate, a horsewhip in his hand
CHAPTER V
CONSEQUENCES
"Oh, Bob!" Betty clutched the boy's sleeve in a panic. "And the
balers have come!"
"So!" began Mr. Peabody, in tones of cold fury. "That's the way you
carry out my orders! Not one forkful of hay pitched down, and the men
ready to go to work to-morrow. You miserable, sneaking loafer, where
have you been?"
"To the vendue," said Bob defiantly.
"Flatly refuse to mind, do you? Well, I'll give you one lesson you
won't forget!" the man reached over and gripped Bob by his shirt
collar. Struggling violently, he was pulled over the five-barred gate.
"I'll learn you!" snarled Peabody, raising the whip.
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