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Discourse on the theme of the captain's daughter. Composition on the theme of the captain's daughter

O.Henry
The work "Leader of the Redskins"

Two adventurers - the narrator Sam and Bill Driscoll - have already earned something, and now they need a little more to start speculating in land. They decide to kidnap the son of one of the wealthiest residents of a small town in Alabama, Colonel Ebenezer Dorsett. The heroes have no doubt that dad will calmly pay two thousand dollars for his beloved child. Having seized the moment, the friends attack the boy and, although he “fighted like a brown bear of medium weight”, they take him on a wagon to the mountains, where they hide in a cave. However, the boy is delighted with his new position and does not want to go home at all. He declares himself the leader of the Redskins, Bill - the old hunter Hank, a prisoner of the formidable Indian, and Sam receives the nickname Snake Eyes. The child promises to scalp Bill, and, as it turns out, his words do not differ from his deeds. At dawn, Sam is awakened by wild screams. He sees that a boy is sitting on Bill and is trying to scalp him with the knife they used to cut the brisket. Bill has

The first doubts that anyone in their right mind would be willing to pay money for the return of such a treasure. However, having gone on reconnaissance, Sam really does not notice signs of anxiety in the Dorsett house.
Meanwhile, the situation in the camp is heating up, and the battered crooks are helpless in front of the antics of their captive, who perfectly entered the role of the leader of the Redskins. At the insistence of Bill, on whose shoulders the main burden of protecting the captive falls, the ransom is reduced to one and a half thousand. After that, Sam goes with a letter to the nearest mailbox, and Bill remains to guard the child.
Upon his return, Sam learns that Bill could not stand the test and sent the boy home. “I rode all ninety miles to the outpost, not an inch less. And then, when the settlers were rescued, they gave me oats. Sand is an unimportant substitute for oats. And then I dead hour I had to explain why there is emptiness in the holes, why the road goes both ways and why the grass is green.” Bill admits his guilt to his partner, but assures that if the child had stayed, he, Bill, would have to be sent to an insane asylum. But Bill's happiness is short-lived. Sam asks him to turn around, and behind his back his friend discovers the leader of the redskins. However, the case is drawing to a close. Colonel Dorsett thinks that the kidnappers asked too much. For his part, he makes a counteroffer. For two hundred and fifty dollars he is ready to take his son back. He only asks to bring the child under the cover of darkness, since the neighbors hope he is missing, and the father does not vouch for what they can do with those who bring him back, Sam is outraged, but Bill begs him to agree to Colonel Dorsett's generous offer (“he is not only a gentleman, he is also a spendthrift”).
Exactly at midnight, Sam and Bill betray the boy they brought home by deceit to their father. Realizing that he was cheated, he clings to Bill's leg with a death grip, and his father rips him off, "like a sticky plaster." When asked how long the colonel can hold the child, Dorsett says that his strength is no longer the same, but in ten minutes he vouches. "In ten minutes," says Bill, "I'll cross the Central, Southern, and Midwestern states and make it to the Canadian border."

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Title of the work: The leader of the Redskins

Year of writing: 1907

Genre of work: story

Main characters: Sam And Bill- swindlers, The leader of the Redskins- kidnapped boy Mr Dorsett- father.

Plot

The action takes place in a small town in Alabama. Sam and Bill want to succeed in land speculation. There are not enough funds to achieve this goal. Namely, you need to get 2 thousand dollars. They decide to kidnap the boy, Colonel Dorsett's son. An appropriate ransom amount has been set. The bandits managed to bring the child into the cave. But he, on the contrary, was delighted with the “journey” and decided to involve the crooks in the game of Indians. The boy's antics were unbearable. Bill he called his prisoner, and himself the Leader of the Redskins. The terrible antics of the prisoner are forced to send a letter to his father about reducing the amount to 1500. But he has his own conditions - the kidnappers pay 250 dollars, and he will take the boy. The swindlers nevertheless agreed to this proposal and, having given the “Leader”, they hurried to hide so that he would not find them.

Conclusion (my opinion)

The writer clearly does not support the view that honesty and decency can be sacrificed to make money. The situation did not develop at all as the invaders had originally planned. It reminds you that life loves surprises. Children left to themselves are completely out of control. Education has always been essential.

The business, at first glance, seemed profitable to us ... But wait, let me tell you everything in order.

Bill Driscoll and I were then working in the South, in Alabama. It was there that we had a brilliant idea about the kidnapping. It must have been, as Bill later said, a temporary clouding of the mind that came over us, but we only realized it much later.

There is one small town there, flat as the bottom of a frying pan, and, of course, it is called Vertis, that is, "Peaks". Lives in it harmless and everything in the world happy redneck.

The capital Bill and I had at the time was six hundred dollars between us, and we needed at least another two thousand for one operation with land in Western Illinois. So we talked about it, sitting on the porch of the hotel in Vertis. A kidnapping with a subsequent ransom, Bill assured me, was much easier to pull off here than where newspapers were regularly published, which would immediately raise a howl and send reporters in disguise in all directions. Besides, the town won't be able to send anyone after us, except some deputy sheriff and a couple of the victim's neighbors.

It looked like it wasn't bad.

We chose the only son of the most prominent inhabitant of Vertis as our victim. His name was Ebenezer Dorset. He was a respectable and very tight-fisted man who bought up overdue mortgages and was in charge of Sunday church fees. The boy looked about ten years old, his face was completely covered with freckles, and his hair was about the same color as the covers of magazines in the newsstands on railway stations. Bill and I figured that Dorset Sr. would not hesitate to pay us two thousand for his child, and decided not to settle for less.

About two miles from the town there was a small mountain with gentle slopes, overgrown with dense pine forests. There was a cave on the far side of this hill. There we stocked up on provisions and began to carry out our plan.

One evening we rode in a buggy past old Dorset's house. The boy was wandering in the street and shooting stones at a kitten that had climbed a fence.

- Hey guy! Bill called out. “Do you want to ride and get a bag of candy?”

The boy, without hesitation, hit Bill right in the eye with a piece of brick.

“Yes,” Bill said, climbing over the side of the wagon and holding onto his face. “It will cost the old man an extra five hundred dollars…”

The guy, let's face it, fought like a medium-sized grizzly, but we still twisted him and pushed him to the bottom of the wagon. Having reached the place, we took him to a cave, and I tied the horse in a pine forest. As soon as it got dark, I took the gig to the farm where we rented it, and from there I returned on foot.

I look: Bill is patching up abrasions on his face with a band-aid. A fire is burning behind the rock at the entrance to the cave, and our guy with two hawk feathers in red tresses does not take his eyes off the boiling coffee pot.

I come closer, and he aims a stick at me and says:

“Damned pale-face, how dare you come to the camp of the leader of the redskins named Prairie Thunder?”

“We play Indians with him,” Bill says, pulling up his pants so he can better see the bruises on his ankles. “The circus, compared to us, is just views of the Holy Land in a picture album. You see, I'm an old hunter Hank, a prisoner of the chief, and in the morning they'll scalp me, and then they'll burn me to hell. Holy great martyrs! And this guy is healthy to fight with his feet!

Yes, sir, the boy was running wild. He liked living in a cave, he forgot to think that he himself was a hostage. He, without thinking twice, named me Snake Eyes and announced that when his best warriors returned from the campaign, I, too, would be roasted at the stake at sunrise. When we sat down to dinner, our guy, stuffing his mouth with bread and bacon, delivered a table speech that went something like this:

- You are great here! I have never lived in a forest; but I once had a pet possum, and on my last birthday I turned nine years old ... I hate going to school. And there are real Indians in the forest? .. I want more gravy ... Why is the wind blowing? Because the trees sway?.. We had five puppies.. Hank, why is your nose so red?.. My daddy has a lot of money... And the stars are hot?.. On Saturday I beat Ed Walker twice in a row... I don't like girls!.. Why are oranges round?.. Do you have beds in the cave?.. A parrot can talk, but no fish... A dozen - how much will it be?..

Every five minutes the guy remembered that he was an Indian, and, grabbing his stick, which he called a gun, he would sneak to the exit from the cave - to hunt down the scouts of the damned pale faces. From time to time he let out a war cry that made the old hunter Hank shudder. Yes, sir, poor Bill was scared out of his wits from the very beginning by this boy.

“Hey,” I tell him, “Thunderstorm of the Prairie, don’t you want to go home?”

“What didn’t I see there?” he answers. - I like the forest. You won't drag me home, Snake Eyes, will you?

“Until I get it,” I say. We'll live in a cave for a while.

- That's great! he says. “I have never had so much fun in my life.

We went to bed shortly before midnight. They spread blankets in the cave, laid the leader of the redskins, and themselves lay down on both sides. For three hours in a row he would not let us sleep - every now and then he jumped up, clutching at his gun. At every crack of a branch or a rustle of leaves, it seemed to him that either a gang of robbers or a hostile tribe was creeping up to the cave. In the end, I did fall into an uneasy sleep, and I imagined that I was kidnapped and chained to a tree by a burly red-haired pirate with a wooden leg and a rusty cleaver.

But I didn’t have to bask for a long time: at dawn, Bill’s heart-rending squeal literally pulled me out of sleep. Not a scream, not a scream, not a roar, as one would expect from the vocal cords of an adult male, but a completely obscene, terrible, humiliating, tearing eardrum screeching. This is how women squeal at the sight of a ghost or a hairy caterpillar. Terrible, I tell you, when a plump, strong and, in general, brave man squeals in a cave at an early dawn.

I jumped up to see what happened. Prairie Thunder sat on Bill's chest, one hand tugging at his hair. In the other, he held a sharply honed knife and was busily trying to rip off Bill's scalp, that is, in the most unambiguous way, he carried out the sentence that he himself had pronounced on him the night before.

With difficulty I took the knife from the boy and put it back down. But from that fateful moment, Bill's spirit finally broke. He stretched out on his side of the bed, but in all the time that the guy stayed with us, he never closed his eyes again. I dozed a little, but by sunrise I suddenly remembered that the leader of the Redskins had threatened to roast me at the stake at that very time. Not to say that I was very nervous, but nevertheless I got out of the cave, filled my pipe, lit a cigarette from the still smoldering coal and leaned back against the rock.

Why are you up so early, Sam? Bill asks.

- I? Yes, the shoulder is broken. I think it might be easier if you sit.

“You're lying,” Bill says. “You're just afraid. He promised to burn you at dawn, and you think he will. And I would burn it if I figured out where I hid the matches. Look, Sam, this is terrible. Are you really sure that someone will pay at least a quarter to bring this fiend home?

“I'm sure,” I say. “That’s just the kind of thing dads and moms idolize. Now you and Prairie Thunder get up and get to work, and I'll go up the mountain and take a good look around.

I climbed to the top of our hill and looked around the surroundings. On the side where the town was, I expected to see a crowd of farmers with scythes and pitchforks, rummaging through every bush in search of insidious kidnappers. Instead, a completely peaceful landscape appeared before me. No one wandered with hooks along the river; the riders did not gallop back and forth, bringing disappointing news to their mourning parents. A sleepy calm emanated from all that part of the state of Alabama that stretched out in front of me.

“Perhaps,” I said to myself to console myself, “they haven't found out yet that the lamb has disappeared from the paddock. God help the wolves!

Then I went down from the top - it was time for breakfast.

I go up to the cave and see: Bill is standing, pressed against a rock, and barely breathing, and the boy is about to hit him with a stone almost the size of a coconut.

“He slipped a hot baked potato down my collar,” explains Bill, “and crushed it into the bargain, and I tore his ears. Do you have a gun, Sam?

I took the stone from the leader and somehow pacified them both.

- But you beware! the boy says to Bill. “No man has ever plucked the ears of the Prairie Storm without paying the price.

After breakfast, the guy takes out a piece of leather wrapped with twine from his pocket and leaves the cave, unwinding the twine as he goes.

- What was he thinking? Bill asks worriedly. “Do you think he won’t run away, Sam?”

“Don’t worry about that,” I say. You can't call him a homebody. But it's time for us to make a fuss about the ransom. True, it is not yet clear that the city is particularly alarmed because the boy has disappeared. In any case, today it should be missed. By the evening we will send a letter to his father and demand our two thousand.

And then the battle cry rang out. The thing that Prairie Thunder had pulled out of his pocket turned out to be a sling, and now he whistled it over his head. I managed to dodge and heard behind me a thud and something like a sigh of a horse when the saddle is removed from it at the end of a long haul. A stone the size of an egg hit Bill in the head just behind his left ear. My friend's legs gave way, and he fell headlong into the fire, knocking over a pot of boiling water for washing dishes. I pulled him out of the ashes and pissed for a good half an hour cold water.

Little by little, Bill came to his senses, sat down, felt behind his ear, where a bump the size of a grapefruit was swollen, and says:

Sam, do you know who my favorite character in the Bible is? King Herod.

“Don't be nervous,” I say. - You'll be fine soon.

"But you're not leaving, Sam, are you?" he asks timidly. "Won't you leave me here alone?"

I went out of the cave, caught the leader and shook him so that freckles almost fell off him.

“If you don’t behave properly,” I say, “I’ll send you home in no time.”

“I was just joking,” the guy says, pouting. “I didn't mean to offend old Hank. And then why did he hit me? I'll behave myself, Snake Eyes, but don't send me home and let me play Rangers today.

“I never played this game,” I say. “It's up to you and Mr. Bill to decide. I'm leaving for a short time on business. And you go, make peace with him and ask for forgiveness in a human way.

Anyway, I got them to shake hands, then took Bill aside and told him I was going to the village of Poplar Grove, three miles from the cave, to see if there were rumors out of town about the missing boy. Besides, it's time to send Dorset Sr. a ransom letter with instructions on how he should deliver it to us.

- You know, Sam, - says Bill, - I was always ready for you, even in fire, even in water. I wouldn't blink an eye during an earthquake, a poker scam, a hundred pounds of dynamite, a police raid, or a hurricane. I was not afraid of anything in the world until we kidnapped this leader of the Iroquois. But he got me. Don't leave me with him for too long, okay?

“I'll be back by sunset,” I say. Your job is to entertain the child. And now let's compose a scribble for his dad.

Bill and I began to write the letter, while Prairie Thunder paced back and forth, wrapped in a blanket, and guarded the entrance to the cave. Bill, almost with tears in his eyes, begged me to set a ransom of fifteen hundred dollars instead of two.

“I am not trying in this way to undermine faith in parental love, he explained his position. “That would be simply immoral. But after all, we are dealing with living people, and what kind of person will find the strength to pay as much as two thousand for this freckled ocelot! Let it be one and a half thousand dollars. The difference, if you like, you can compensate to my account.

I did not argue, and Bill and I wrote something like this:

Ebenezer Dorset, Esq.

We hid your boy in a safe place away from the city. Not only you, but even the most experienced detectives will waste their energy trying to find it. Our final and non-negotiable terms: You can have him back safe and sound for fifteen hundred dollars. The money must be left today at midnight in the same place and in the same box as your answer. Where exactly, will be discussed below. If you agree to our terms, please reply by email. It must be delivered by one (no more) messengers by half past eight to the place indicated here. Beyond the ford over Oal Creek on the road to Poplar Grove are three large trees, one hundred yards apart, set against a hedge that runs past a wheat field. Under this fence post, opposite the third tree, your messenger will find a small cardboard box.

He must put the answer in this box and immediately return to the city. If you try to contact the police or do not follow our requirements exactly, you will never see your son again.

If you pay the specified amount, the child will be returned within three hours. If our terms are not accepted, all further negotiations are precluded.

Two villains

I wrote Dorset's address on the envelope and slipped the letter into my pocket. When I was about to leave, the guy rolls up to me and says:

“Snake Eyes, you said I could play Rangers while you were gone.

“Play what it’s about,” I say. “And Mr. Bill will keep you company. And what kind of game is this?

“I am a ranger,” says the Chief of the Redskins, “and I must ride to the fort, warn the settlers that the Indians are approaching. I'm already tired of being the leader of the redskins. I want to be a ranger.

“Okay,” I say. - In my opinion, the game is quite harmless. Mr. Bill will help you repel the attack of the ferocious Hurons.

– What should I do? Bill asks and looks at the guy suspiciously.

“You will be my horse,” the ranger says. - How can I get to the outpost without a horse? So come on, get on all fours.

“Be patient, Bill,” I say, “until our plan works. Relax a little here.

Bill gets on all fours, and in his eyes there is an expression like that of a rabbit caught in a snare.

“Is it far to the outpost, lad?” he asks hoarsely.

“Ninety miles,” the ranger replies. “And we’ll have to hurry to make it on time.” Well, let's go!

The guy with a run jumps up on Bill's back and, well, pound with his heels on his sides!

I went to Poplar Grove, visited the post office and the shop, chatted with the farmers who were shopping in the shop. One bearded lout seemed to hear that the whole town was in a panic because Ebenezer Dorset's son was either missing or kidnapped. It was just what I needed. I bought tobacco, inquired as if by chance, how much soy is now, put the letter in the box and was like that. The postmaster said that in an hour a postman would drive by and pick up the letters addressed to the city.

When I got back, neither Bill nor our boyfriend was anywhere. I searched the surroundings of the cave, shouted softly a couple of times, but no one answered. I lit a cigarette and crouched under a pine tree to await developments.

About half an hour later there was a crackling and rustling in the bushes, and Bill rolled out into the clearing under the rock. Behind him, stepping silently, crept the ranger, grinning at the same time in the entire width of the freckled face. Bill stopped, took off his hat, and wiped his wet face with a handkerchief. The boy froze about ten feet behind him.

“Sam,” Bill said, barely moving his tongue, “you can call me a traitor, but I no longer had the strength to endure. I am an adult, I can stand up for myself, but there are times when everything goes to dust - both courage and self-control. Our guy is gone. I sent him home. It's all over, thank God. There were martyrs in the old days who were more ready to accept death than to part with their favorite idea. I am not one of them, but perhaps not one of them was subjected to such supernatural torture as I was. I wanted to stay true to our cause, but my strength was over.

What happened here, Bill? I ask.

“I galloped the whole ninety miles to the fort, not an inch less,” Bill replies. “Then, when the settlers were warned, I was bombarded with oats. Sand is a lousy substitute for oats. And then I had to explain for an hour and a half why the holes were empty, why the road leads in both directions, and why the grass is green. Once again I tell you, Sam, there is a limit to human patience. I grab the brat by the collar and drag him down the mountain. On the way, he kicks me, all my legs are now bruised, there are a couple of bites on my arm, and my thumb is bleeding. But he is no more, Bill continues, he went home. I showed him the way to the city. To hell with him, with the ransom, because the question was: either we will end this, or I will go straight to the lunatic asylum.

Bill huffs and puffs, but his round, ruddy face expresses complete bliss.

“Bill,” I say, “didn’t anyone in your family have a heart disease?”

“No,” he replies, “nothing like that, except malaria and accidents.” And what are you from?

“Well, then turn around,” I say, “and look what’s behind you.”

Bill turns around, sees our guy and becomes as pale as skimmed milk. Then he flops down on the ground under a rock and starts stupidly tearing the grass. For an hour I was not sure if he would regain his sanity. When he did begin to recover, I told him that, as far as I was concerned, this should be done quickly, and that we would have time to get the money and be gone before midnight if old Dorset would agree to our terms. Bill cheered up a little and forced a smile at the boy.

The plan I devised to get the ransom without the slightest risk was as simple as all genius. I think even a professional child abductor would approve of him. The tree, under which the answer, and then the money, were to be laid first, stood by the road itself; a hedge stretched along the road, and on both sides of it were spacious, bare fields at that time. If a gang of policemen had been waiting for a letter to the tree indicated in the letter, they would have seen him from afar, either on the road or in the field. But no such luck: at half past eight I was already sitting on this very tree, hiding among the foliage, like a hefty tree frog. Exactly at the appointed hour, a teenage boy rides up on a bicycle, finds a cardboard box under a fence post, stuffs a piece of paper folded in four into it and rolls back to the city.

I waited another hour or so to make sure that there was no trap. Then he climbed down from the tree, took the note out of the box, crept in the shade of the hedge all the way to the forest, and half an hour later was in our cave. There I unfolded the note, sat close to the fire, and read it to Bill:

Two villains

Gentlemen, today's mail received your letter regarding the ransom you demand in order to return my son to me. I believe that you have asked for too much, and therefore I am making you a counter offer. I think that you will accept it without much hesitation. You bring Johnny home and pay me two hundred and fifty dollars in cash, and I agree to take him from you. It's best to do this at night, otherwise the neighbors think the guy is missing and I'm not responsible for what they do to the person who brings Johnny home.

Yours truly, Ebenezer Dorset

- Powers of heaven! I say. - Such impudence...

But then I looked at Bill and fell silent. In his eyes shone such a prayer, which I have never seen before or since, either in animals or in people.

“Sam,” he finally spoke, “what is, in fact, some two hundred and fifty dollars?” We have money. One more night with that Redskin leader and I'll have to be put in a violent lunatic ward. Not only is Mr. Dorset a true gentleman, he is also an outstanding benefactor to make us such a disinterested offer. After all, Sam, you will not miss such a chance, huh?

“To tell you the truth, Bill,” I say, “the guy is something and he began to get on my nerves. Let's take him to dad, pay the ransom, and only we were seen here.

That very night we brought the boy home. We told him that his father bought him a winchester with a silver notch and brand new moccasins, and tomorrow morning the whole company is going to hunt a bear.

Precisely at midnight we knocked on the front door of Ebenezer Dorset's house. And at the very moment when I was supposed to extract one and a half thousand dollars from a cardboard box under the fence, Bill counted out two hundred and fifty full-weight dollars into the outstretched palm of Mr. Dorset.

As soon as the guy realized that we were going to leave him at home, he howled like a steamship siren and latched on to Bill's leg like a leech.

My father had to peel it off like a sticky plaster.

How long can you keep him like this? Bill asked apprehensively.

Keywords: O. Henry, O. Henry

Year: 1907 Genre: story

Main characters: swindlers Sam and Bill, stolen boy Chief of the Redskins and father of Mr. Dorsett.

Two heroes appear in the novel, both became famous for their deeds, which only brought harm. Their names are Sam and Bill Driscoll. To get more more money, decide on a crime - the kidnapping of the son of a rich man. The criminals are sure that Ebenezer Dorsett will spare no money for the ransom of his beloved son. (final ransom amount - two thousand dollars)

Day X comes, the heroes attack the boy, receiving strong resistance in response. They still manage to grab him and take him to the mountains, hiding him in a cave there. Once in this position, the boy behaves strangely. He starts a game and does not ask to go home. He now calls himself the leader of the redskins, and Bill - the old hunter, Sam gets the name Snake Eyes.

One night, Sam wakes up screaming. What he sees is amazing: the boy has saddled Bill and wants to scalp him. Only when he calms down does he realize that no one has announced the disappearance of the boy, and it is not safe for him to be near him.

They offer a ransom for fifteen hundred, with such a conclusion, Sam goes to send a letter to the colonel. But when he returns home, he finds out that Bill could not restrain the boy's antics and sent him home. An hour later, the leader of the redskins returns, and the house begins again.

Now the new terms of the contract: for two hundred and fifty dollars, the father will finally take his son, but the boy refuses to leave the cave. Friends have to go on a cunning plan, with one condition - you need to bring the boy under the cover of night, otherwise the neighbors will rebel. They will not be happy to see the boy again and find out that he is not really missing. After the boy was fraudulently brought home, he became angry and tried to ruin Bill's leg. The father says he can only hold the child for ten minutes. During this time, the two friends manage to escape.

Discourse on the theme of the captain's daughter. Composition on the theme of the captain's daughter

Plot

Conclusion (my opinion)

Picture or drawing Chief of the Redskins

Other retellings and reviews for the reader's diary