The Clock by James Lincoln Collier Page A

Brown, was there.
    â€œWhat’s this, Annie?”
    â€œHe’s trying to kill Robert. I know he is.” I stood there, my heart pounding.
    Mr. Brown stood there for a minute, thinking. Then he said, “It doesn’t sound right putting a boy with that lame foot up on the wheel. I’d better go have a look.”
    â€œPlease, sir, hurry.”
    He grabbed his coat, and began to run out of the house, putting his coat on as he went. I came running on behind him, but he was going a good deal faster than I could go. He reached the mill road when I was still a good piece away. I saw him turn up the mill road, stagger on a patch of ice, straighten up, and go on up the road. In a minute he disappeared around the side of the mill. I went on running. I turned into the mill road and began to work my way up it as quick as I could. I reached the mill, and started for the side when Mr. Brown suddenly appeared.
    He stood in front of me, barring my way. I stopped. Then he put his arm around my shoulder and gently turned me around. “Better not go back there, Annie,” he said. “You don’t want to see it.”
    I screamed, broke away from him, and dashed around the corner toward the waterwheel. Two boys were coming toward me, carrying something heavy. I screamed again, and then they came by me.
    Robert’s body was soaked in water, and already the ice was forming on his face, his eyes, his clothes. His nose was squashed down and one eye was just a pool of blood. His other pale blue eye was open and just stared out. His clothes were torn, and his body was limp as an empty sack, for most of his bones had been broken by the wheel. The one thing I never forgot was his foot. It was bare, and twisted all the way around so that it was pointed backward. I screamed, and then Mr. Brown picked me up and carried me away.

CHAPTER ELEVEN
    T HERE WAS PLENTY OF TALK in the village about it. A lot of people said that Mr. Hoggart was in the wrong of it, and thought he ought to be dismissed before he hurt somebody else. A lot of other people said he wasn’t to blame; it was an accident. The boys had all been taking turns and it was just Robert’s hard luck that he was the one on the wheel when it started to move. Besides, it wasn’t Mr. Hoggart’s fault that Robert hadn’t been able to jump off quick enough.
    Robert’s pa went to the justice of the peace and talked about bringing charges against Mr. Hoggart. The justice of the peace told him there wasn’t anything to be done about it. It was an accident. There were always accidents in mills, everybody knew that; and if you went to work in a mill you had to watch out for yourself. Just as there were always accidents on farms too. If Robert hadn’t got his foot hurt in a farm accident, he wouldn’t have been in the mill in the first place.
    Pa and Ma felt just dreadful about it. They were good friends of the Bronsons, and it hurt them something awful to see how stricken the Bronsons were. “Poor Robert,” Pa said. “He never had a bit of luck. First his foot, and now this.”
    â€œIt wasn’t any accident, Pa,” I cried. “Mr. Hoggart did it on purpose.”
    â€œNow, Annie. I know how you felt about Robert, but we can’t blame Mr. Hoggart for this.”
    Even Ma agreed. “I don’t like Mr. Hoggart, and I don’t trust him, Annie. But I can’t believe he’d do this to Robert deliberately.”
    The tears began to leak out of my eyes. “He did. Yes, he did.”
    Ma put her arms around me. “Poor Annie. It’s been hard for you.”
    â€œIt’s God’s will,” Pa said. “There’s always death in life, and the dead must bury the dead. In time, we’ll be reconciled to it.”
    But then George spoke up. “I believe Annie,” he said quietly. “I believe Hoggart did it on purpose.
    We all looked at him. “What makes you think that,