Don Alonzo
"Don Alonzo! Don Alonzo Pitkin! Where be you?"There was no answer."Don Alonzo! Deacon Bassett's here, and wishful to see you. DonAlonzo Pit-kin!"Mrs. Joe Pitkin stood at the door a moment, waiting; then she shookher shoulders with a despairing gesture, and went back into thesitting-room. "I don't know where he is, Deacon Bassett," she said."There! I'm sorry; but he's so bashful, Don Alonzo is, he'll creepoff and hide anywheres sooner than see folks. I do feel mortified,but I can't seem to help it, no way in the world.""No need to, Mis' Pitkin," said Deacon Bassett, rising slowly andreaching for his hat. "No need to. I should have been pleased to seeDon 'Lonzo, and ask if he got benefit from those pills I left for himlast time I called; what he wants is to doctor reg'lar, and keepstraight on doctorin'. But I can call again; and I felt it a duty tolet you know what's goin' on at your own yard-gate, I may say. Mis'Pegrum's house ain't but a stone's throw from yourn, is it? Well,I'll be wishing you good day, and I hope Joseph will be home beforethere's any trouble. I don't suppose you've noticed whether DonAlonzo has growed any, sence he took those pills?""No, I haven't!" said Mrs. Pitkin, shortly. "Good day, Deacon Bassett.""Yes, you can call again," she added, mentally, as she watched thedeacon making his way slowly down the garden walk, stopping thewhile to inspect every plant that looked promising. "You can callagain, but you will not see him, if you come every day. It does beatall, the way folks can't let that boy alone. Talk about his beingcranky! I'd be ten times as cranky as he is, if I was pestered byevery old podogger that's got stuff to sell."She closed the door, and addressed the house, apparently empty andstill. "He's gone!" she said, speaking rather loudly, "Don 'Lonzo,he's gone, and you can come out. I expect you're hid somewheresabout here, for I didn't hear you go out."There was no sound. She opened the door of the ground-floor bedroomand looked in. All was tidy and pleasant as usual. Every mat lay inits place; the chairs were set against the wall as she loved to seethem; the rows of books, the shelves of chemicals, at which shehardly dared to look, and which she never dared to touch for fearsomething would "go off" and kill her instantly, the specimens intheir tall glass jars, the case of butterflies, all were in theirplace; but there was no sign of life in the room, save the canary inthe window."Deacon Bassett's gone!" she said, speaking to the canary.There was a scuffling sound from under the bed; the valance waslifted, and a head emerged cautiously."I tell you he's gone!" repeated Mira Pitkin, rather impatiently."Come out, Don Alonzo! There! you are foolish, I must say!"The head came out, followed by a figure. The figure was that of aboy of twelve, but the head belonged to a youth of seventeen. Therounded shoulders, the sharp features, the dark, sunken eyes, alltold a tale of suffering; Don Alonzo Pitkin was a hunchback.His pretty, silly mother had given him the foolish name which seemeda perpetual mockery of his feeble person. She had found it in an oldromance, and had only wavered between it and Senor Gonzalez,--whichshe pronounced Seener Gon-zallies,--the other dark-eyed hero of thebook. Perhaps she pictured to herself her baby growing up into suchanother lofty, black-plumed hidalgo as those whose magnificentlanguage and mustachios had so deeply impressed her. It was truethat she herself had pinkish eyes and white eyelashes, while herhusband was familiarly known as "Carrots,"--but what of that?But he had a fall, this poor baby,--a cruel fall, from theconsequences of which no high-sounding name could save him; and thenpresently the little mother died, and the father married again.The boy's childhood had been a sad one, and all the happiness he hadknown had been lately, since his elder brother married. Big,good-natured Joe Pitkin, marrying the prettiest girl in the village,had been sore at heart, even in his new-wedded happiness, at thethought of leaving the deformed, sensitive boy alone with thecareless father and the shrewish stepmother. But his young wife hadbeen the first to say:"Let Don Alonzo come and live with us, Joe! Where there is room fortwo, there is room for three, and that boy wants to be made of!"So the strong, cheerful, wholesome young woman took the sickly ladinto her house and heart, and "made of him," to use her own quaintphrase; and she became mother and sister and sweetheart, all in one,to Don Alonzo.Now she stood looking at him, shaking her head, yet smiling."Don 'Lonzo, how can you behave so?" she asked. "This is the thirdtime Deacon Bassett has been here to see you, and he's coming again;and what be I to say to him next time he comes? You can't go throughlife without seeing folks, you know."Don Alonzo shook his shoulders, and pretended to look for dust onhis coat. He would have been deeply mortified to find any, for hetook care of his own room, and prided himself, with reason, on itsneatness. Also, the space beneath his bedstead was cupboard as wellas hiding-place."He troubles me," he said, meekly. "Deacon Bassett troubles me morethan any of 'em. Did he ask if I'd grown any?""Well, he did," Mira admitted. "But I expect he didn't mean anythingby it.""He's asked that ever since I can remember," said Don Alonzo;"and I'm weary of it. There! And then he says that if I would onlytake his Green Elixir three times a day for three months, I'd growlike a sapling willow. He hopes to make his living out of me, yet!"Mrs. Pitkin laughed, comfortably, and smoothed the lad's hair backwith a motherly touch. "All the same," she said, "you must quithiding under the bed when folks come to call, Don 'Lonzo. You don'twant 'em to think I treat you bad, and keep you out o' sight, so'sthey'll not find it out." Then, seeing the boy's face flush withdistress, she added, hastily, "Besides, you're getting to be 'most aman now; I want strangers should know there's men-folks about theplace, now Joe's away. There's burglars in town, Don 'Lonzo, and wemust look out and keep things shut up close, nights.""Burglars!" repeated the youth."Yes; Deacon Bassett was telling me about 'em just now. I guesslikely half what he came for was to give me a good scare, knowingJoe was away. Now, ain't I uncharitable! 'Twas just as likely to bea friendly warning. Anyway, he was telling me they came through fromTupham Corner day before yesterday, and they've been lurking andspying round.""Some boys saw them, coming through Green Gully, and were scared todeath at their looks; they said they were big, black-looking men,strangers to these parts; and they swore at the boys and ordered 'emoff real ugly. Nobody else has seen them in honest daylight, butthey broke into Dan'l Brown's house last night. He's deaf, you know,and didn't hear a sound. They came right into the room where he slept,--Deacon Bassett was there the next day, and saw their tracks allover the floor,--and took ten dollars out of his pants pocket. Thepants was hanging right beside the bed, and they turned them cleaninside out, and Dan'l never stirred.""My, oh!" exclaimed Don Alonzo."Why, it's terrible!" Mira went on. "Then, last night, they got intoMis' Pegrum's house, too. She's a lone woman, you know, same asDan'l is a man. Seems as if they had took note of every house wherethere wasn't plenty of folks to be stirring and taking notice. Theygot into the pantry window, and took every living thing she had toeat. They might do that, and still go hungry, Deacon Bassett says;you know there's always been a little feeling between him and Mis'Pegrum; her cat and his hens--it's an old story. Well, and she didhear a noise, and came out into the kitchen, and there sat two great,black men, eating her best peach preserves, and the cake she'd madefor the Ladies' Aid, to-day. She was so scare't, she couldn't speaka word; and they just laughed and told her to go back to bed, andshe went. Poor-spirited, it seems, but I don't know as I should havedone a bit better in her place. There! I wish Joe'd come back! Ifeel real nervous, hearing about it all. Oh, and her gold watch, too,they got, and three solid silver teaspoons that belonged to hermother. She's sick abed, Deacon Bassett says, and I don't wonder. Idon't feel as if I should sleep a wink to-night!"The color came into Don Alonzo's thin cheeks. "There sha'n't no onedo you any hurt while I'm round, Mira!" he said; and for a moment heforgot his deformity, and straightened his poor shoulders, and heldup his head like a man.There was no shade of amusement in Mira Pitkin's honest smile."I expect you'd be as brave as a lion, Don 'Lonzo," she said."I expect you'd shoo 'em right out of the yard, same as you did theturkey gobbler when he run at my red shawl; don't you remember? Butall the same, I hope they will not come; and I shall be glad to seeJoe back again."At that moment the lad caught sight of himself in the littlelooking-glass that hung over his chest of drawers. Mira, watching him,saw the sparkle go out of his eyes, saw his shoulders droop, and hishead sink forward; and she said, quickly:"But there! we've said enough about the burglars, I should think!How's the experiments, Don 'Lonzo? I heard an awful fizzing going on,just before Deacon Bassett came in. I expect you've got great thingshidden under that bed; I expect there's other perils round besidesburglars! Joe may come back and find us both blown into kindlin'-wood,after all!"This was a favorite joke of theirs; she had the pleasure of seeing asmile come into the boy's sad eyes; then, with another of thosemotherly touches on his hair, she went away, singing, to her work.Don Alonzo looked after her. From the way his eyes followed her, shemight have been a glorified saint in robe and crown, instead of arosy-cheeked young woman in a calico gown. "There sha'n't nothinghurt her while I'm round!" he muttered again.The night fell, dark and cloudy. Mrs. Pitkin went to bed early,after shaking every door and trying every window to make sure thatall was safe. Don Alonzo went through the same process twice aftershe was gone, but he did not feel like sleeping, himself. He laydown on his bed, but his thoughts seemed dancing from one thing toanother,--to Brother Joe, travelling homeward now, he hoped, after aweek's absence; to Mira's goodness, her patience with his waywardself, her kindness in letting him mess with chemicals, and turn theshed into a laboratory, and frighten her with explosions; to Dan'lBrown and Mis' Pegrum and the burglars.Ah, the burglars! What could he do, if they should really come tothe house? They were two men, probably well-grown; he--he knew whathe was! How could he carry out his promise to Mira, if she should bein actual danger? Not by strength, clearly; but there must be someway; bodily strength was not the only thing in the world. He lookedabout him, seeking for inspiration; his eyes, wandering here andthere, lighted upon something, then remained fixed. The room wasdimly lighted by a small lamp, but the corners were dark, and in oneof these dark corners something was shining with a faint, uncertainlight. The phosphorescent match-box! He had made it himself, and hadornamented it with a grotesque face in luminous paint. This face nowglimmered and glowered at him from the darkness; and Don Alonzo laystill and looked back at it. Lying so and looking, there crept intohis mind an old story that he had once read; and he laughed tohimself, and then nodded at the glimmering face. "Thank you, oldfellow!" said Don Alonzo.Was there a noise? Was it his imagination, or did a branch snap, atwig rustle down the road? The hunchback had ears like a fox, and inan instant he was at the window, peering out into the darkness. Atfirst he could see nothing; but gradually the lilac bushes at thegate came into sight, and the clumps of flowers in the little gardenplot. Not a breath was stirring, yet--hark! Again a twig snapped, abranch crackled; and now again! and nearer each time. Don Alonzostrained his eyes to pierce the darkness. Were those bushes, thosetwo shapes by the gate? They were not there a moment ago. Ha! theymoved; they were coming nearer. Their feet made no sound on thesoft earth, but his sharp ears caught a new sound,--a whisper, faint,yet harsh, like a hiss. Don Alonzo had seen and heard enough. Heleft the window, and the next moment was diving under the bed.* * * * *Mira Pitkin usually slept like a child, from the moment her headtouched the pillow till the precise second when something woke inher brain and said "Five o'clock!" But to-night her sleep was broken.She tossed and muttered in her dreams; and suddenly she sat up in bedwith eyes wide open and a distinct sense of something wrong. Herfirst thought was of fire; she sniffed; the air was pure and clear.Then, like a cry in her ears, came--"The burglars!" She held herbreath and listened; was the night as still as it was dark? No! afaint, steady sound came to her ears. A mouse, was it, or--the soundof a tool?And then, almost noiselessly, a window was opened, the window of theupper entry, next her room. Mira was at her own window in an instant,raising it; that, too, opened silently, for Joe was a carpenter anddetested noisy windows. She peered out into the thick darkness. Black,black! Was the blackness deeper there, just at the front door?Surely it was! Surely something, somebody, was busy with the lock ofthe door; and then she heard, as Don Alonzo had heard, a low soundlike a hiss, beside the soft scraping of the tool. What should she do?The windows were fast, there was a bar and chain inside the door,but what of that? Two desperate men could force an entrance anywherein a moment. What could she do, a woman, with only a sickly boy tohelp her? And--who had opened that upper window? Was there a thirdaccomplice--for she thought she could see two spots of deeperblackness by the door--hidden in the house? Oh, if only Joe hadborrowed his father's old pistol for her, as she had begged him to do!Mira opened her lips to shout, in the hope of rousing the nearestneighbors, though they were not very near. Opened her lips--but nosound came from them. For at that instant something appeared at thewindow next her own; something stepped from it, out on to the littleporch over the front door. Mira Pitkin gasped, and felt her heartfail within her. A skeleton! Every limb outlined in pale fire, thebony fingers points of wavering flame. What awful portent was this?The Thing paused and turned, a frightful face gazed at her for aninstant, a hand waved, then the Thing dropped, silent as a shadow, onthat spot of deeper blackness that was stooping at the front door.Then rose an outcry wild and hideous. The burglar shouted hoarsely,and tried to shake off the Thing that sat on his shoulders, grippinghis neck with hands of iron, digging his sides with bony knees andfeet; but the second thief, who saw by what his comrade was ridden,shrieked in pure animal terror, uttering unearthly sounds that cutthe air like a knife. For a moment he could only stand and shriek;then he turned and fled through the yard, and the other fled afterhim, the glimmering phantom clutching him tight. Down the road theyfled. Mira could now see nothing save the riding Thing, apparentlyhorsed on empty air; but now she saw it, still clutching close withits left hand, raise the right, holding what looked like a shiningsnake, and bring it down hissing and curling. Again, and again! andwith every blow the shrieks grew more and more hideous, till nowthey had reached the cluster of houses at the head of the street,and every window was flung open, and lights appeared, and voicesclamored in terror and amaze. The village was roused; and now--now,the glimmering skeleton was seen to loose its hold. It dropped fromits perch, and turning that awful face toward her once more, cameloping back, silent as a shadow. But when she saw that, Mira Pitkin,for the first and last time in her sensible life, fainted away.When she came to herself, the skeleton was bending over her anxiously,but its face was no longer frightful; it was white and anxious, andthe eyes that met hers were piteous with distress."My, oh!" cried Don Alonzo. "I vowed no one should do her any hurt,and now I've done it myself."There was little sleep in the Pitkin house that night. The neighborscame flocking in with cries and questions; and when all was explained,Don Alonzo found himself the hero of the hour. For once he did nothide under the bed, but received everybody--from Deacon Bassett downto the smallest boy who came running in shirt and trousers,half-awake, and athirst for marvels--with modest pride, and toldover and over again how it all happened.'Twas no great thing, he maintained. He had fooled considerable withphosphorus, and had some of the luminous paint that he had mixedsome time before. Thinking about these fellows, he remembered astory he read once, where they painted up a dead body to scare awaysome murdering robbers. He thought a living person was as good as adead one, any day; so he tried it on, and it appeared to succeed. Hedidn't think likely those men would stop short of the next township,from the way they were running when he got down. Oh, the snake? Thatwas Joe's whip. He presumed likely it hurt some, from the way theyyelled.But the best of all was when Joe came home, the very next day, andwhen, the three of them sitting about the supper-table, Mira herselftold the great story, from the first moment of Deacon Bassett'svisit down to the triumphant close--"And I see him coming back,shining like a corpse-candle, and I fell like dead on the floor!""There!" she continued, beaming across the table at Joe, as shehanded him his fourth cup of coffee, "you may go away again wheneveryou're a mind to; I sha'n't be afraid. You ain't half the man Don'Lonzo is!""I don't expect I be!" said big Joe, beaming back again.It seemed to Don Alonzo that their smiles made the kitchen warm asJune, though October was falling cold that year.
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