XLVIII.
ROUNDING UP A CHICKEN THIEF.
I was not the chief actor in the story which I shall now tell. I played only a minor part. My father-in-law was “leading man.” Soon after I married I accepted a very cordial invitation to take up my residence with my wife’s parents. Our bed-rooms happened to be on the same floor, so that it was very easy for us to hear in one room any unusual noise made in the other. My mother-in-law was a great hand at the poultry business. She had a large number of the choicest breeds, and she found great pleasure in looking after them. Now, the old-folk’s bed-room was at the rear. Our room was in front. Late one night I heard a voice calling.
“Thomas! Thomas!”
It sounded sad and far-away. At first I thought it might have been a ghost. I raised myself up and listened. Pretty soon I heard the voice again, calling in strangely sepulchral tones.
“Thomas! Thomas!”
And then I could not be mistaken. It was my mother calling the old man. Father drawled out sleepily,——
“What is it?”
“There’s somebody out there at my hen house, just as sure as you’re born. Don’t you hear the chickens calling for help?”
There was a short silence. After awhile I heard the old lady say impetuously,——
“Thomas, why don’t you get up and go and see after them chickens?”
There was another pause. By-and-by mother spoke again,——
“Thomas, you don’t need on your top-shirt. Go on, just as you are. My chickens are in danger. If I were a man, I wouldn’t have stopped to put on my pants even. You’re a coward—that’s what you are!”
Next I heard the old man speak. I do not know whether he was looking out of the window or not, but I heard his say,——
“Hi, there, look out! I’m coming out there! Look out, I’m going to blow your daylights out!”
If the old man meant this remark to impress his wife with his bravery the effect was certainly lost on the woman, because I heard her say louder than ever,——
“Get out of the way, you coward baby, you! I’ll go myself! Where’s my slippers?”
In less than a minute I heard the old lady’s voice at the back door, at the head of the steps which ran down into the yard. She said,——
“Bring the lamp, Thomas! Bring the lamp!”
“Son, its a Mighty Lucky Thing for You and Nannie that I Didn’t Have My Gun.”
Curiosity pulled me and my wife out of bed. I stepped quietly into the hall, and stood well in the dark, not desiring to be in any way conspicuous in the investigations which were proceeding. My wife was by my side—trembling, anxious. Her angelic mother had already descended the steps, and neither of us knew what fate might befall her there. Wife whispered that we had better go to the rescue. We started for the door where father stood with the lamp. On the way I stumbled against a little table and knocked off a pitcher of ice-water, which fell to the floor with a terrific crash. It sounded louder than usual, not only on account of the stillness of the night but also on account of the fact that our nerves were already keyed up to a very high tension by the exciting events then taking place. At the sound in the hall, father turned quickly and looked behind. The light flashed into our faces. He must have thought we were ghosts or burglars. Immediately the lamp fell out of the old man’s hands, and he went sailing down the back stairs, hallooing at the top of his voice,——
“They’re in the house, wife! They’re in the house!”
When wife and I reached the door father was already, as I afterwards learned, safely buried behind the chicken house, and mother was lodged under the steps.
“Father!” I called out. “Father!”
There was no response.
“It’s me and Nannie, mother,” I said.
Still we heard nothing.
I went back to our room, and got our lamp. My wife was following me, foot to foot. Returning, I descended the steps and stood on the last one. Wife remained at the head of the steps, anxious, waiting, and ready to fly back into the house at the first outcry.
“Father!” I called again. “Father! Mother! There’s nobody in the house but me and Nannie. I made that noise myself, father. Where are you?”
Simultaneously the old folks emerged from their hiding-places.
The old lady said,——
“Thomas, you’re the biggest coward in all the world! I’ll never speak to you again!”
Father addressed me, ignoring his wife’s complaint. Said he,——
“Son, it’s a mighty lucky thing for you and Nannie that I didn’t have my gun.”