How Frank and Will Escaped.
By F. E. Wadleigh
"HERE, Frank! I say, Frank Leslie, come here a minute!" shouted Jim Haley rather imperatively, as little Frank Leslie and his cousin, Will Carter, were running past the engine-house, Jim's usual lounging place, on their way home from school. "That's Jim Haley calling you! Are you going to speak to him? Your father will scold you if you do—but Jim'll hit you if you don't," was Will's whispered remark to Frank. "Well, what's wanted?" answered Frank, halting, but not exactly standing still. He was afraid of his father's reprimand, and equally afraid not to answer Jim. This Jim Haley and his half a dozen intimate friends were the worst boys in the whole town; they were always avoided by any one who respected himself. "Why, Pat O'Connor, here, says that that big dog of Tom Kelley's used to belong to your father. Is that the truth?" asked Jim, quite peaceably. "Mr. Kelley's dog Carlo, do you mean? Yes, indeed, my father raised him from a pup; he had hardly got his eyes open when father brought him home." And in their eagerness to "talk dog," a topic beloved by every boy, Frank and Will quite unintentionally drew a little nearer to the forbidden group. "How many times did he bite any of you?" "Not once!" exclaimed Frank, with enthusiasm. "He's a tip-top watch-dog, but he never harms any one he knows. Mr. Kelley says he's never had a chicken or an apple stolen since he had Carlo." "That's what I told Pat, and he bet me a dollar against a dime, that he was as cross to you two fellows as he is to us." "Of course, I can take your word for it, but that will not settle our bet. Look here, let's settle it now. We fellows will go along as far as old Kelley's front gate, and then you call Carlo and prove to Pat that he isn't cross to you." In cooler moments Frank would have declined the proposal; he knew that dinner would be ready in five minutes, and as punctuality to meals was rigidly enforced by Mr. Leslie, he could truthfully have excused himself from thus dallying on the way. In a few moments, Frank, Will, and the group of half-grown loafers, stood in front of Mr. Kelley's gate; a whistle from Will was enough to bring Carlo bounding to the side of his old master; he was unfeignedly glad to see them, and not only offered no resistance to their caresses, but had plenty of his own to bestow. "Didn't I tell you so?" shouted Frank, with glee. "It's all very well, out here in the street, but you know he would act very differently if he was in the garden," grumbled Pat. "Indeed he wouldn't! Just come in the garden and see." So into the garden they trooped. Will and Frank were so busy fondling Carlo that they did not notice four of the other boys slip away, one after another. The first thing that disturbed them was a yell and a scuffling of feet, as three or four of them took to their heels, and a sudden grip on their collars, which was not at all comfortable. Three stalwart policemen surrounded what was left of the party, including Jim Haley, Pat O'Connor, and one of the worst of their congenial spirits, as well as Frank and Will. "Caught in the act this time?" one of the policemen exclaimed. "I heard that you were planning a robbery here, and we've had our eyes on you all day. I think Judge Anderson will have a word for you, you young thieves!" Frightened as they were, Frank and Will now saw that the other three boys had their hands and pockets full of Mr. Kelley's rarest plants, some torn up by the roots, others only broken and crushed. "Please, Mr. Policeman, let Will and me go! We didn't touch the flowers, we are not thieves! We were only playing with dear old Carlo. Wasn't that all, Jim?" cried Frank. There is not always "honor among thieves;" neither Jim nor Pat uttered a word of denial when the policeman said:— "Oh! only playing with the dog, eh? Only keeping the dog quiet while your accomplices robbed the garden? To Judge Anderson you'll all go this minute, and if I don't miss my guess you'll have a nice ride in the Black Maria before long?" No tears or persuasions availed the least, and in a few moments the boys were before the Judge. It happened to be a very dull day in the Police Court, so Judge Anderson listened at once to the policeman's story. "Caught in the act, were they?" the Judge said. "I am not sorry to have a short interview with these young scamps, they've been the terror of the neighborhood long enough. As for you Jim Haley and Pat O'Connor, I have little mercy for you; you have been up before me two often, and I promise you a few weeks where you can't study any more poisonous dime novels. And you—why, bless my soul! policeman, you've surely made a mistake! Little Will Carter is in my daughter's Sunday-school class; and it is not a month since I myself saw our minister present Frank Leslie with a prize for being the best-behaved boy in our Sunday-school! What are they here for?" "Sure, sir, there is no mistake; birds of a feather flock together, and I caught them all together," was the reply. A few questions from the Judge elicited the whole story, even a confession from Jim that the two little boys were used by him as an innocent trap for Carlo, to keep the dog still while the others stole the plants. "Knowing your previous reputation as well as I do, Frank and Will, I dismiss your case at once. But bear this in mind: you cannot touch pitch without being defiled, and a man (or boy) is apt to be judged by the company he keeps. I must say I am surprised that your fathers have not warned you to have nothing to do with such boys as Jim Haley—" "Please Judge, he has! He has told us never to be seen with them," Frank cried; and Will added:— "My father told me never to even speak to them; but we forgot. And then all of us little fellows are afraid of those big boys; they lick us if we are not civil to them." "Next time one of them troubles you, just let me know! But, after all, which is the worst, to disobey your father or to run the risk of a 'licking'? The latter hurts worst just now; but, boys, each disobedience, small as it may be, makes the next one come easier and easier, and no one knows where it may lead to. My colleague, Judge Brown, is a stranger to you; suppose he had been acting in my place to-day? Your story might not have been believed by him, and think what a disgraceful punishment your disobedience would have brought to you if you had been sent down with these rogues! Go home now, and hereafter choose your company a little more carefully. Your good character clears you now; see that it remains with you through life."—F. E. Wadleigh, in S. S. Times.