Tommy Brackett may have been an angel in the eyes of an indulgent mother, but most people who had anything to do with him regarded him as a perverse and mischievous imp. He had always been a thorn in the side of the successive boys who had been employed by Mr. Brackett. The little boy was quite aware of his position as the son of the master of the house, and felt at liberty to tease and annoy his father’s hired boys in any manner that presented itself to his ingenious fancy.

As we already know, he had made a beginning with Andy at the very first meal of which the latter partook of at the farm, but somehow the experiment did not succeed. Instead of submitting, our hero had very coolly and composedly deprived him of the pin, which he had selected as a means of annoyance.

Tommy was rather surprised, but he was not disposed to give up at the failure of the first attempt. He was encouraged, indeed, by his mother taking his part against Andy, though she resented any trick upon herself.

Andy was naturally fond of children. Had Tommy been a well-behaved boy, he would have regarded him with favor and affection, but he very soon decided that any such feeling for his employer’s son was not deserved and would be thrown away.

One morning, as Tommy was wondering what he should do for amusement, his attention was drawn to the family cat, which was dozing in the yard, unconscious of danger.

“I’ll have some fun with you, puss,” said he. “Come along!”

He took the cat and drew her to the trough at which the cattle were accustomed to drink. Seizing the poor animal by the head, he thrust it into the water till the poor thing was near strangulation. Of course, she made her dissatisfaction known by shrill cries.

They attracted the attention of Andy, who was splitting wood only a few rods distant. Looking up, he saw the poor cat’s predicament, and became justly indignant.

“What are you doing there, Tommy?” he demanded, sternly.

Tommy looked up and answered with characteristic impudence:

“None of your business!”

“Stop hurting the cat!” said Andy, imperatively.

“Go on with your work and let me alone,” answered Tommy, preparing to plunge the cat’s head into the trough once more.

Andy’s answer was to drop the ax and rush to the trough. Seizing the boy by the collar, he forcibly took away the cat and said:

“You ought to be ashamed of your cruelty!

“How dare you touch me?” demanded Tommy, furiously, stamping his foot.

“It doesn’t require much daring, you mischievous little scamp!” said Andy.

“I’ll get my father to turn you away,” threatened Tommy.

“Just as you like,” said Andy, amused. “I am doing him a favor by staying; and he knows it.”

“I’ll get him to give you a flogging!” said Tommy, finding that the first threat had very little effect.

“If he would give you a sound whipping, it’s only what you deserve,” said our hero, going back to his work.

“He wouldn’t whip me. My mother wouldn’t let him!” said Tommy.

Andy laughed. He was disposed to think that the boy was only telling the truth, since Mrs. Brackett appeared to have her husband under her thumb, as he had already found out.

Tommy felt outraged by the thought that his father’s hired boy had dared to lay hands on him, and thirsted for revenge. If he had only been stronger than Andy, our hero would have stood a chance of a thrashing then and there; but, unfortunately for Tommy, his strength was not equal to his spirit.

“What shall I do?” he thought.

He waited till he got a few rods away, and picking up a pebble, threw it at Andy. It whizzed within a foot of our hero’s face.

Andy looked up, and saw the boy laughing with evident enjoyment.

“Did you fire that stone, Tommy?” he asked.

“Yes, I did.”

“What did you do it for?”

“I’ll do it again!”

And Tommy suited the action to the word.

Andy was upon him in a moment, and seized him as he was entering the back door.

“Ma!” yelled Tommy, at the top of his voice. “Come here! Henry’s murdering me!”

Mrs. Brackett rushed to the door, her hands covered with dough, and her indignation was intense when she saw her darling in the grasp of her husband’s hired boy.

“What’s all this?” she exclaimed. “Let go my child, you young ruffian! How dare you?”

“Mrs. Brackett,” said Andy, “Tommy has been firing stones at me. If you will make him stop, I shall let him alone.”

“You have no business to touch him, anyway! I’ll make you smart for it!” exclaimed the angry woman. “I presume you are telling lies about my poor child. Tell me all about it, Tommy. Did you fire a stone at him?”

“Yes; but he began it.”

“How did he begin it?”

“He took the cat away from me,” exclaimed the virtuous Tommy.

“Did you take the cat away from my boy?” demanded Mrs. Brackett, in a tragical tone.

“Yes, ma’am.”

“How dared you do it?”

“Because he was teasing it. If I had not interfered, he would have drowned her. He was putting her head into the trough.”

“‘Tain’t so, ma! Don’t you believe him!” vociferated Tommy, with unblushing falsehood.

“I don’t believe it,” said Mrs. Brackett, forcibly. “I know he is telling lies about you, my angel!”

Andy was not in the least excited, but he was rather amused.

“You may believe it or not, Mrs. Brackett,” he said. “I only tell you that it is so.”

“Tain’t so! ’tain’t so!” yelled Tommy.

“Of course it isn’t,” said his mother. “I won’t believe any of that bad boy’s lies. Go back to your work, you young brute; and take care how you touch my darling boy again.”

“You had better advise him not to touch me again, Mrs. Brackett,” said Andy.

And, without waiting for an answer, he went back to his work.

Not a word was said to Tommy about what he had done, and he was emboldened to continue his persecutions.

Five minutes afterward, he went out into the yard again and shied a stone at Andy’s head.

Our hero was prepared. He sprang for Tommy, seized him, and drawing him to the trough, took a dipper of water, and dashed it into his face.

“The next time you’ll get something worse,” he said, coolly.

Tommy roared with anger and mortification, and again ran into the house, to complain to his mother.

She came out like an avenging fury, and began to revile Andy, and threaten all sorts of punishment when her husband got home.

“Do you expect me to stand still, and let Tommy throw stones at me?” asked Andy.

“I didn’t throw a stone,” denied Tommy.

“Of course you didn’t, my angel!” said Mrs. Brackett. “Henry Miller, when Mr. Brackett gets home, he shall whip you till you are black and blue.”

“Mrs. Brackett,” said an indignant voice behind her, “you are blaming the wrong boy. Tommy did throw stones at Henry, for I saw the whole transaction from my window. Henry treated him just as he ought to be treated. If he were my boy, I would give him a good, sound whipping.”

Knowing that Mr. Dodge had money to leave, Mrs. Brackett did not dare to reply as she wished to do.

“So you turn against my poor boy, too,” she said.

“I tell the truth about him,” said the old man, disgusted. “Had he treated me as he has Henry, I would make him suffer.”

Mrs. Brackett was white with anger, but she did not dare to show it.

“Come into the house, Tommy,” she said. “It seems you have no friends but your mother. Even your grandpa turns against you.”

“I thank Heaven he is not my grandson!” said Mr. Dodge, after mother and child had left the scene. “Henry, don’t let that little rascal impose upon you, or his mother either.”

“I won’t, sir,” assured Andy, firmly.

From that moment Mrs. Brackett positively hated Andy, and anxiously sought for some means of revenge.