Every one knew that Tip’s life depended on their getting home quickly, and all the strength they could command was expended on the oars to such purpose that in a trifle more than two hours the boat was moored alongside Dunham’s wharf again.
Without stopping for anything, the entire party followed Tim and Bill to Dr. Abbott’s office, and there they could hardly prevent themselves from cheering when the doctor told them that Tip’s injuries were by no means serious, and that he would soon be well, although it was possible that he might always be lame in one hind-leg.
The shots were soon extracted, and Tip taken to the most comfortable spot in Mr. Tucker’s barn, where it is safe to say he did not suffer from want of attention.
That night, after Bobby and Tim had told the story of their camping-out, Mr. Tucker thoroughly frightened them by saying that on the next day he was going to take Tim back to Selman, to see Captain Babbige.
Tim’s face grew very pale, and it was plain to be seen that he was in the greatest terror, while Bobby was thrown into a perfect fever of excitement.
“I am not going to leave you there, Tim, if I can help it, for I intend to do by you as I would some one should do by my Bobby if I had been called to meet the Great Father. As matters now stand, you have no right to be here, nor I to keep you; for Captain Babbige is your lawful guardian, whom I hope you did not leave without sufficient cause. To-morrow night we will start for Selman, and there the law shall decide whether you may not be permitted to choose another guardian.”
Bobby caught eagerly at the idea that Tim would soon return, with a perfect right to stay on Minchin’s Island; but the homeless boy took a more gloomy view of the case. He felt certain that Captain Babbige would force him to remain with him, and the future now looked as dark as a day or two before it had looked bright.
So positive did he feel that he should not be allowed to return that if Tip’s wound had been any less severe he would have taken him with him; but as it was he made Bobby promise faithfully to send him as soon as he should be able to travel.
The next day, when the boy population of Minchin’s Island learned that Tim was to be taken back to the man who had abused him so cruelly, they held a sort of indignation meeting back of Mr. Tucker’s barn, where the matter was discussed.
Some of the more excitable among them proposed that, since the steamer on which Tim was to leave would not touch at the island until nearly six o’clock, there was plenty of time for him to run away again, making it impossible for Mr. Tucker to take him back. They argued that he could build himself a hut in the woods, where, protected by Tip, he could live the jolliest kind of a life, and they could all come to see him, as summer boarders.
But Tim rejected all such counsel, giving good reason for doing so:
“Mr. Tucker says I ought not have run away in the first place, and I s’pose he knows, though it does seem hard to have to stay where folks are so awful ugly to you. Now he says I must go back, an’ I wouldn’t be any kind of a feller if I run away from him after he’s been so good to me. I’d like to go out in the woods to live, if it wouldn’t rain any, and I’d do anything rather than go back to Selman; but Mr. Tucker says I ought to go, an’ I’m goin’, whatever Captain Babbige does to me.”
Every boy present knew that Tim was right, and those who had first advised him felt ashamed of having done so, while all united in cheering him for his resolution, until Tip, awakened by the noise, barked loudly, which to Tim’s mind at least was proof that he approved of his master’s decision.
That night Tim was escorted to the steamer by a large number of boys, and while he was on the wharf he felt reasonably brave, even though he was obliged to pass directly in front of Captain Pratt. But when the steamer left the dock, and the cheers of the boys died away in the distance, he fully expected to be summoned to the wheel-house.
But Captain Pratt paid no attention to him, and on the following day Selman was reached without any incident worthy of mention.
There Tim was never exactly certain how the matter was arranged. He knew that he was taken into court almost as if he had been a criminal, that many questions were asked him by the judge, and that a number of gentlemen whom he knew told of the ill-treatment he had received from Captain Babbige.
Then it seemed as if Mr. Tucker had been accused of something, for he told about his business and himself, and showed a great number of letters from people on Minchin’s Island, all speaking of him as a kind and good man.
Captain Babbige was there, apparently in a very uncomfortable frame of mind, and he spoke to Tim in the kindest manner possible, asking if he hadn’t always treated him as a son.
Tim was not sure how fathers did treat sons, except in one or two cases; but he told the captain of what he had said about wanting him to die, and then coaxed the judge—oh, so hard!—to let him go back with Mr. Tucker.
Then some other people had a good deal to say, and the judge talked some more; after they were all through Mr. Tucker told Tim it had been decided he could go back to Minchin’s Island.
Tim’s delight was so great that it seemed impossible for him to keep his feet on the ground, and when he was back at the island again, in the midst of the crowd of boys who had come to welcome him for the second time, his joy found vent in words.
And when Tim got into Mr. Tucker’s house, where Bobby cheered until he was hoarse, and Mrs. Tucker kissed him again and again, he found it impossible even to speak, because of a great lump in his throat, which was not caused by sorrow; but he said over and over again to himself that no one should regret in the man what they had done for the homeless orphan boy.