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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6833f05 --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,3 @@ +* text=auto +*.txt text +*.md text diff --git a/16631-h.zip b/16631-h.zip Binary files differnew file mode 100644 index 0000000..92e23d9 --- /dev/null +++ b/16631-h.zip diff --git a/16631-h/16631-h.htm b/16631-h/16631-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f23e546 --- /dev/null +++ b/16631-h/16631-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,14373 @@ +<!DOCTYPE HTML PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD HTML 4.01 Transitional//EN"> + +<head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html; charset=ISO-8859-1"> + <title>The Project Gutenburg eBook of The Skipper and the Skipped, by Holman Day</title> +</head> + +<body> + + +<pre> + +The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Skipper and the Skipped, by Holman Day + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Skipper and the Skipped + Being the Shore Log of Cap'n Aaron Sproul + +Author: Holman Day + +Release Date: September 5, 2005 [EBook #16631] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SKIPPER AND THE SKIPPED *** + + + + +Produced by Ron Swanson + + + + + +</pre> + + +<center> + +<img src="images/SkipperFrontispiece.jpg" alt="Frontispiece"> +<p>THE SKIPPER TELLS OF "THE GLORIOUS, FASCINATING SEA."<br> +See Chapter II.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<h1>THE SKIPPER AND THE SKIPPED</h1> + +<h3>BEING THE SHORE LOG OF CAP'N AARON SPROUL</h3> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<h4>BY</h4> +<h2>HOLMAN DAY</h2> + +AUTHOR OF<br> +"THE RAMRODDERS"<br> +"KING SPRUCE" ETC.<br> + +<br><br> + +ILLUSTRATED<br> + +<br><br> + +NEW YORK AND LONDON<br> +HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS<br> +MCMXI<br><br> + +<br><br><br><br> + +BOOKS BY<br> +HOLMAN DAY<br> +<br> +<big>T</big>HE <big>S</big>KIPPER AND THE <big>S</big>KIPPED. Post 8vo . . $1.50<br> +<big>T</big>HE <big>R</big>AMRODDERS. Post 8vo . . . . . . . . . $1.50<br> +<big>K</big>ING <big>S</big>PRUCE. Ill'd. Post 8vo . . . . . . . . $1.50<br> +<big>T</big>HE <big>E</big>AGLE'S <big>B</big>ADGE. Ill'd. Post 8vo . . . $1.25<br> +<br> +HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, N.Y.<br><br> + +<br><br><br><br> + + +COPYRIGHT, 1911. BY HARPER & BROTHERS<br> +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA<br> +PUBLISHED FEBRUARY, 1911<br><br> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<h2>THE SKIPPER AND THE SKIPPED</h2> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<h3>I</h3> + +</center> +<br> + +<p>Cap'n Aaron Sproul, late skipper of the <i>Jefferson P. Benn</i>, sat by +the bedside of his uncle, "One-arm" Jerry, and gazed into the +latter's dimming eyes.</p> + +<p>"It ain't bein' a crowned head, but it's honer'ble," pleaded the sick +man, continuing the conversation.</p> + +<p>His eager gaze found only gloominess in his nephew's countenance.</p> + +<p>"One way you look at it, Uncle Jed," said the Cap'n, "it's a come-down +swifter'n a slide from the foretop the whole length of the boomstay. +I've been master since I was twenty-four, and I'm goin' onto +fifty-six now. I've licked every kind in the sailorman line, from +a nigger up to Six-fingered Jack the Portugee. If it wa'n't for—ow, +Josephus Henry!—for this rheumatiz, I'd be aboard the <i>Benn</i> this +minute with a marlinespike in my hand, and op'nin' a fresh package +of language."</p> + +<p>"But you ain't fit for the sea no longer," mumbled One-arm Jerry +through one corner of the mouth that paralysis had drawn awry.</p> + +<p>"That's what I told the owners of the <i>Benn</i> when I fit 'em off'm +me and resigned," agreed the Cap'n. "I tell ye, good skippers ain't +born ev'ry minute—and they knowed it. I've been turnin' 'em in ten +per cent. on her, and that's good property. I've got an eighth into +her myself, and with a man as good as I am to run her, I shouldn't +need to worry about doin' anything else all my life—me a single man +with no one dependent. I reckon I'll sell. Shipmasters ain't what +they used to be."</p> + +<p>"Better leave it where it is," counselled Jerry, his cautious thrift +dominating even in that hour of death. "Land-sharks is allus lookin' +out sharp for sailormen that git on shore."</p> + +<p>"It's why I don't dast to go into business—me that's follered the +sea so long," returned the skipper, nursing his aching leg.</p> + +<p>"Then do as I tell ye to do," said the old man on the bed. "It may +be a come-down for a man that's had men under him all his life, but +it amounts to more'n five hundred a year, sure and stiddy. It's +something to do, and you couldn't stand it to loaf—you that's always +been so active. It ain't reskin' anything, and with all the passin' +and the meetin' folks, and the gossipin' and the chattin', and all +that, all your time is took up. It's honer'ble, it's stiddy. Leave +your money where it is, take my place, and keep this job in the +family."</p> + +<p>The two men were talking in a little cottage at the end of a long +covered bridge. A painted board above the door heralded the fact that +the cottage was the toll-house, and gave the rates of toll.</p> + +<p>"It's Providence that has sent you here jest as I was bein' took out +of the world," went on Uncle Jerry. "You're my only rel'tive. I'm +leavin' you the three thousand I've accumulated. I want to leave you +the job, too. I—"</p> + +<p>A hoarse hail outside interrupted. The Cap'n, scowling, shuffled out +and came in, jingling some pennies in his brown hand.</p> + +<p>"I feel like a hand-organ monkey every time I go out there," he +muttered.</p> + +<p>"I tell ye," protested the old man, as earnestly as his feebleness +would permit, "there's lots of big business in this world that don't +need so long a head as this one does—bein' as how you're goin' to +run it shipshape. You need brains; that you do, nephy. It'll keep +you studyin' all the time. When you git interested in it you ain't +never goin' to have time to be lonesome. There's the plain hello folks +to be treated one way, the good-day folks, the pass-the-time-o'-day +folks, the folks that need the tip o' the hat—jest for politeness, +and not because you're beneath 'em," he hastened to add, noting the +skipper's scowl; "the folks that swing up to the platform, the folks +that you've got to chase a little, even if it is muddy; the folks +that pay in advance and want you to remember it and save 'em trouble, +the folks that pay when they come back, and the folks that never pay +at all—and I tell ye, nephy, there's where your work is cut out for +ye! I've only had one arm, but there's mighty few that have ever done +me out of toll, and I'm goin' to give ye a tip on the old bell-wether +of 'em all. I'm goin' to advise ye to stand to one side and let him +pass. He's—"</p> + +<p>"And me a man that's licked every—"</p> + +<p>"Hold on! He's diff'runt from all you've ever tackled."</p> + +<p>In his excitement the old toll-gatherer attempted to struggle upon +his elbow. He choked. The nurse came and laid him back with gentle +remonstrance. Before he had regained his voice to talk more the +minister came, obeying a summons of grave import. Then came One who +sealed One-arm Jerry's lips and quieted the fingers that had been +picking at the faded coverlet as though they were gathering pennies.</p> + +<p>And a day later, half sullenly, the Cap'n accepted the proposition +of the directors of the bridge company, who had said some very +flattering things to him about the reliability of the Sproul family. +He reflected that he was far enough from tide-water to avoid the +mariners who had known him in his former state. "I'll dock and repair +riggin'," he pondered. "It's a come-down, but I'll clear and cruise +again when the notion strikes me."</p> + +<p>His possessions came promptly by express—his sea-chest, two parrots, +and a most amazing collection of curios that fairly transformed the +little cottage where the skipper, with seaman's facility in +housekeeping, set up bachelor's hall.</p> + +<p>He grudgingly allowed to himself that he was going to like it. The +sun beamed blandly warm on the little bench before the toll-house. +His rheumatism felt better. People commented admiringly on such of +the curios as were displayed in the windows of the cottage. And when +the parrots—"Port" and "Starboard"—ripped out such remarks as +"Ahoy!" "Heave to!" "Down hellum!" and larded the conversation with +horrible oaths, the wayfarers professed to see great humor in the +performance.</p> + +<p>In a little while the parrots would squall as soon as a traveller +appeared at the brow of the river hill or poked out from the dim depths +of the covered bridge. Even when the Cap'n was busy in his little +kitchen he never failed to receive due notice of the approach of +persons either in wagons or on foot.</p> + +<p>"It will be a good man who runs toll on this bridge," he mused one +day, as he poked dainties between the bars of the parrots' cages. +"The old 'un was a good man in his day, like all the Sprouls. He didn't +have but one arm, but there wa'n't many that ever come it over him. +I've been thinkin' about one that did, and that he was scart of. If +there was ever a man that scart him, and kept him scart till the day +he died, then I'd like to see that same. It will be for me to show +him that the nephy has some accounts of the poor old uncle to square."</p> + +<p>Up the slope where the road to Smyrna Bridge wound behind the willows +there was the growing rattle of wheels. The Cap'n cocked his head. +His seaman's instinct detected something stormy in that impetuous +approach. He fixed his gaze on the bend of the road.</p> + +<p>Into sight came tearing a tall, gaunt horse, dragging a wagon equally +tall and gaunt. The horse was galloping, and a tall man in the wagon +stood up and began to crack a great whip, with reports like a pistol +fusillade.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul took three defiant steps into the middle of the road, +and then took one big step back—a stride that made his "rheumatiz +speak up," but a stride that carried him safely to his platform. The +team roared past. The big whip swished over his head, and the snapper +barked in his ear. He got one fleeting glimpse at the man who was +driving—a man with a face as hard as a pine knot. His lips were rolled +away from his yellow teeth in a grimace that was partly a grin, partly +a sneer. A queer, tall, pointed cap with a knob on its top was perched +on his head like a candle-snuffer on a taper. With a shrill yell and +more crackings of his whip he disappeared into the gloomy mouth of +the covered bridge, and the roaring echoes followed him.</p> + +<p>The skipper stood looking first at the mouth of the bridge and then +at the sign above it that warned:</p> + +<center><p>THREE DOLLARS' FINE<br> +FOR DRIVING FASTER THAN A WALK</p></center> + +<p>"As I was jest sayin'," he muttered, as the noise of the wheels died +away, "I should like to see that man—and I reckon as how I have."</p> + +<p>He sat down under the woodbine that wreathed the little porch and +slowly filled his pipe, his gaze still on the bridge opening. As he +crooked his leg and dragged the match across the faded blue of his +trousers he growled:</p> + +<p>"I dunno who he is, nor where he's come from, nor where he's goin' +to, nor when he expects to get back, but, as near as I can figger +it, he owes me ten cents' toll and three dollars' fine-money, makin' +a total of three ten, to be charged and collected, as I understand +it."</p> + +<p>When he had got his pipe to going, after some little gruntings, he +pulled out a note-book and a stubby pencil and marked down the figures. +At the head of the page he scrawled:</p> + +<center><p>"Old Hurrycain, Dr."</p></center> + +<p>"That name 'll have to do till I git a better one," he mused, and +then stood up to receive toll from a farmer who drove slowly out from +the bridge, his elbows on his knees, his horse walking slouchily.</p> + +<p>"If it ain't no great output to you, mister, to tell, do you happen +to know who was the nub of that streak of wind and cuss-words that +jest went past here?"</p> + +<p>The farmer bored him strangely a moment with his little gimlet eyes, +snorted out a laugh, clapped his reins, and started on.</p> + +<p>"I heard ye was a joker!" he shouted back, his beard trailing over +his shoulder as he turned his head.</p> + +<p>"There ain't no joke to this!" roared the skipper. But the man kept +on.</p> + +<p>Another patron emerged from the bridge, digging from his trousers +pocket.</p> + +<p>"You spoke it, didn't ye?" demanded the skipper. "Chain lightnin' +on wheels. Who is he?"</p> + +<p>The man grinned amiably and appreciatively.</p> + +<p>"Quite a hand to hector, ain't ye, toll-keeper? He was goin' so fast +I didn't know him, neither." He drove on, though the Cap'n hobbled +after him, shouting strong language, in which the parrots joined.</p> + +<p>"You needn't try to make me think that there ain't nobody who don't +know the Kun'l," was the retort the man flung over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Nice and accommodatin' class of paternage that's passin'," growled +the Cap'n, kicking an inoffensive chair as he came back to his +platform. "They talk about him as though he was Lord Gull and ruler +of the stars. Jest as though a man that had sailed deep water all +his days knowed all the old land-pirut's 'round here!"</p> + +<p>It was a pedestrian—Old Man Jordan, bound to the village with a few +pats of butter in a bucket—that the skipper finally held up.</p> + +<p>"Oh, sho!" said Old Man Jordan. "'Course ye know him. Every one does."</p> + +<p>"I tell you I don't!" bawled the skipper.</p> + +<p>"Why, yas you do."</p> + +<p>"Say, look a-here, What's-your-name, I'm goin' to give ye ten seconds +to tell me the name of that critter."</p> + +<p>He made a clutch to one side, and then remembered with a flush that +he was no longer in reach of a spike-rack.</p> + +<p>"Why, that was Kun'l Gideon Ward," faltered Uncle Jordan, impressed +at last by the Cap'n's fury. "I thought ye knew."</p> + +<p>"Thought! Thought! Why, ye never thought in your life. You only +thought you thought. I dunno no more who you mean by 'Kun'l Gideon +Ward' than as though you said General Bill Beelzebub."</p> + +<p>"Why, yas you do—"</p> + +<p>"There you go again! Do you mean to stand here and tell me I'm a liar?"</p> + +<p>The glare in the seaman's eyes was too fierce to be fronted.</p> + +<p>"Kun'l Gideon Ward is—is—wall, he's Kun'l Gideon Ward."</p> + +<p>Jordan backed away suddenly at the oath the Cap'n ripped out.</p> + +<p>"He owns more timber land than any other man in the county. He hires +more men than any one else. He ain't never been downed in a trade +or a fight yet. He's got double teeth, upper and lower, all the way +round, drinks kairosene in the winter 'cause it's more warmin' than +rum, and—and—"</p> + +<p>"Well, what's that got to do with his runnin' toll on this bridge?" +demanded the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Bridge piers hold up his logs, he says, and he ain't never goin' +to pay toll till the bridgemen pay him for loss of time on logs. It's +been what you might call a stand-off for a good many years. Best thing +is to let him run toll. That's what your uncle thought. I reckoned +you knew all about Kun'l Gid Ward. Why, everybody knows—"</p> + +<p>"Say, you let up on that string right now and here," snorted the +Cap'n.</p> + +<p>Old Man Jordan trotted away.</p> + +<p>While the skipper was still pondering on the matter of Colonel +Ward—the meditation had lasted over into the next day—there was +a roar on the bridge, and the subject of his reflections passed in +a swirl of dust on his return trip. He was standing up in his wagon +as before, and he saluted the indignant toll-man with a flick of his +whip that started the dust from the latter's pea-jacket.</p> + +<p>"He's been over to the home place to see his sister Jane," volunteered +Uncle Jordan, again on his way to the village with eggs. "She ain't +never got married, and he ain't never got married. Old Squire Ward +left his whole property to the two of 'em, and the Kun'l ain't ever +let it be divided. He runs the whole estate and domineers over her, +and she don't dast to say her soul's her own. If I was Jane I'd have +my half out and git married to some nice man, and git a little comfort +out'n life. He don't give her none—don't let her have the handlin' +of a cent of money. She's a turrible nice sort of woman. There's +risin' a hundred thousand dollars in her share, if the truth was known, +and there's been some pretty good men shine up around her a little, +but the Kun'l has run 'em away with a picked stick."</p> + +<p>"Has, hey?"</p> + +<p>"There ain't no Jack the Giant-Killers in these parts," sighed Old +Man Jordan, hooking his bucket upon his arm and shambling away.</p> + +<p>For several days Cap'n Sproul was busy about the gable end of the +bridge during his spare moments and hours, climbing up and down the +ladder, and handling a rope and certain pulleys with sailor dexterity. +All the time his grim jaw-muscles ridged his cheeks. When he had +finished he had a rope running through pulleys from the big gate up +over the gable of the bridge and to the porch of the toll-house.</p> + +<p>"There," he muttered, with great satisfaction, "that's the first +bear-trap I ever set, and it ain't no extra sort of job, but I reckon +when old grizzly goes ag'inst it he'll cal'late that this 'ere is +a toll-bridge."</p> + +<p>Then came days of anxious waiting. Sometimes a teamster's shouts to +his horses up around the willows sent the Cap'n hobbling to the end +of the rope. An unusual rattling in the bridge put him at his post +with his teeth set and his eyes gleaming.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>II</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>One day a mild and placid little woman in dove-gray came walking from +the bridge and handed over her penny. She eyed the skipper with +interest, and cocked her head with the pert demureness of a sparrow +while she studied the parrots who were waddling about their cages.</p> + +<p>"I never heard a parrot talk, sir," she said. "I hear that yours talk. +I should dearly love to hear them."</p> + +<p>"Their language is mostly deep-water flavor," said the Cap'n, curtly, +"and 'tain't flavored edsackly like vanilla ice-cream. There's more +of the peppersass tang to it than ladies us'ly enjoys."</p> + +<p>The little woman gave a chirrup at the birds, and, to the skipper's +utter astonishment, both Port and Starboard chirruped back sociably. +Port then remarked: "Pretty Polly!" Starboard chirruped a few cheery +bars from "A Sailor's Wife a Sailor's Star Should Be." Then both +parrots rapped their beaks genially against the bars of the cages +and beamed on the lady with their little button eyes.</p> + +<p>"Well, I swow!" ejaculated the Cap'n, rubbing his knurly forefinger +under his nose, and glancing first at the parrots and then at the +lady. "If that ain't as much of an astonisher as when the scuttle-butt +danced a jig on the dog-vane! Them two us'ly cusses strangers, no +matter what age or sect. They was learnt to do it." He gazed +doubtfully at the birds, as though they might possibly be +deteriorating in the effeminacies of shore life.</p> + +<p>"I always was a great hand with pets of all kinds," said the lady, +modestly. "Animals seem to take to me sort of naturally. I hear you +have long followed the sea, Cap'n Sproul—I believe that's the name, +Cap'n Sproul?"</p> + +<p>"Sproul it is, ma'am—Aaron for fore-riggin'. Them as said I follered +the sea was nearer than shore-folks us'ly be. Took my dunnage aboard +at fourteen, master at twenty-four, keel-hauled by rheumatiz at +fifty-six—wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that. I ain't stuck on +a penny-flippin' job of this sort."</p> + +<p>"I should think it would be very pleasant after all the storms and +the tossings. And yet the sea—the sea, the glorious sea—has always +had a great fascination for me—even though I've never seen it."</p> + +<p>"Nev—nev—never seen salt water!" This amazedly.</p> + +<p>"Never." This sadly. "I've been kept—I've stayed very closely at +my home. Being a single lady, I've had no one to talk to me or take +me about. I have read books about the ocean, but I've never had any +chance to hear a real and truly mariner tell about the wonderful waste +of waters and describe foreign countries. I suppose you have been +'way, 'way out to sea, Cap'n Sproul—across the ocean, I mean."</p> + +<p>She had timidly edged up and taken one of the chairs on the porch, +gazing about her at the curios.</p> + +<p>"Well, ma'am," remarked the Cap'n, dryly, as he seated himself in +another chair, "I've waded across a cove wunst or twice at low water."</p> + +<p>"I should love so to hear a mariner talk of his adventures. I have +never had much chance to talk with any man—I mean any sailor. I have +been kept—I mean I have stayed very closely at home all my life."</p> + +<p>"It broadens a man, it sartain does, to travel," said the skipper, +furtively slipping a sliver of tobacco into his cheek and clearing +his throat preparatory to yarning a bit. The frank admiration and +trustful innocence in the eyes of the pretty woman touched him.</p> + +<p>"I suppose you have been out at sea in some awful storms, Cap'n. I +often think of the sailormen at sea when the snow beats against the +window and the winds howl around the corner."</p> + +<p>"The wu'st blow I ever remember," began the skipper, leaning back +and hooking his brown hands behind his head like a basket, "was my +second trip to Bonis Airis—general cargo out, to fetch back hides. +It was that trip we found the shark that had starved to death, and +that was a story that was worth speakin' of. It—"</p> + +<p>There was a hoarse bellow of "Giddap!" up behind the willows. Then +into sight came galloping the tall, gaunt horse of Colonel Gideon +Ward. The Colonel stood up, smacking his whip.</p> + +<p>With one leap the Cap'n was at his rope, and began to haul in hand +over hand.</p> + +<p>The big gate at the mouth of the bridge squalled on its rusty hinges.</p> + +<p>"You mustn't shut that gate—you mustn't!" shrieked the little woman. +She ran and clutched at his sturdy arms. "That's my brother that's +coming! You'll break his neck!"</p> + +<p>The gate was already half shut, and the doughty skipper kept on +pulling at the rope.</p> + +<p>"Can't help it, ma'am, if it's the apostle Paul," he gritted. "There +ain't nobody goin' to run toll on this bridge."</p> + +<p>"It will kill him."</p> + +<p>"It's him that's lickin' that hoss. 'Tain't me."</p> + +<p>"It's my brother, I tell you!" She tried to drag the rope out of his +hands, but he shook her off, pulled the big gate shut, set his teeth, +clung to the rope, and waited.</p> + +<p>The rush down the hill had been so impetuous and the horse was now +running so madly under the whip that there was no such thing as +checking him. With a crash of splintering wood he drove breast-on +against the gate, throwing up his bony head at the end of his scraggy +neck. At the crash the woman screamed and covered her eyes. But the +outfit was too much of a catapult to be stopped. Through the gate +it went, and the wagon roared away through the bridge, the driver +yelling oaths behind him.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Aaron Sproul walked out and strolled among the scattered debris, +kicking it gloomily to right and left. The woman followed him.</p> + +<p>"It was awful," she half sobbed.</p> + +<p>"So you're Miss Jane Ward, be ye?" he growled, glancing at her from +under his knotted eyebrows. "Speakin' of your pets, I should reckon +that 'ere brother of yourn wa'n't one that you had tamed down fit +to be turned loose. But you tell him for me, the next time you see +him, that I'll plug the end of that bridge against him if it takes +ev'ry dum cent of the prop'ty I'm wuth—and that's thutty thousand +dollars, if it's a cent. I ain't none of your two-cent chaps!" he +roared, visiting his wrath vicariously on her as a representative +of the family. "I've got money of my own. Your brother seems to have +made door-mats out'n most of the folks round here, but I'll tell ye +that he's wiped his feet on me for the last time. You tell him that, +dum him!"</p> + +<p>Her face was white, and her eyes were shining as she looked at him.</p> + +<p>"Gideon has always had his own way, Cap'n Sproul," she faltered. "I +hope you won't feel too bitter against him. It would be awful—he +so headstrong—and you so—so—brave!" She choked this last out, +unclasping her hands.</p> + +<p>"Well, I ain't no coward, and I never was," blurted the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"It's the bravest man that overcomes himself," she said. "Now, you +have good judgment, Cap'n. My brother is hot-headed. Every one knows +that you are a brave man. You can afford to let him go over the bridge +without—"</p> + +<p>"Never!" the skipper howled, in his best sea tones. "You're the last +woman to coax and beg for him, if half what they tell me is true. +He has abused you wuss'n he has any one else. If you and the rest +ain't got any spunk, I have. You'll be one brother out if he comes +slam-bangin' this way ag'in."</p> + +<p>She looked at him appealingly for a moment, then tiptoed over the +fragments of the gate, and hurried away through the bridge.</p> + +<p>"You ain't no iron-clad, Kun'l Ward," muttered Sproul. "I'll hold +ye next time."</p> + +<p>He set to work on the river-bank that afternoon, cutting saplings, +trusting to the squall of the faithful parrots to signal the approach +of passers.</p> + +<p>But the next day, when he was nailing the saplings to make a truly +Brobdingnagian grid, one of the directors of the bridge company +appeared to him.</p> + +<p>"We're not giving you license to let any one run toll on this bridge, +you understand," said the director, "but this fighting Colonel Ward +with our property is another matter. It's like fighting a bear with +your fists. And even if you killed the bear, the hide wouldn't be +worth the damage. He has got too many ways of hurting us, Cap'n. He +has always had his own way in these parts, and he probably always +will. Let him go. We won't get the toll, nor the fines, but we'll +have our bridge left."</p> + +<p>"I was thinking of resigning this job," returned the Cap'n; "it was +not stirrin' enough for a seafarin' man; but I'm sort of gittin' +int'rested. How much will ye take for your bridge?"</p> + +<p>But the director curtly refused to sell.</p> + +<p>"All right, then," said the skipper, chocking his axe viciously into +a sapling birch and leaving it there, "I'll fill away on another +tack."</p> + +<p>For the next two weeks, as though to exult in his victory, the Colonel +made many trips past the toll-house.</p> + +<p>He hurled much violent language at the Cap'n. The Cap'n, reinforced +with his vociferous parrots, returned the language with great +enthusiasm and volubility.</p> + +<p>Then came the day once more when the little woman sat down in a chair +in the shade of the woodbine.</p> + +<p>"I took the first chance, Cap'n, while my brother has gone up-country, +to come to tell you how much I appreciate your generous way of doing +what I asked of you. You are the first man that ever put away selfish +pride and did just what I asked."</p> + +<p>The seaman started to repudiate vigorously, but looked into her +brimming eyes a moment, choked, and was silent.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, you're what I call noble, not to pay any attention to the +boasts my brother is making of how he has backed you down."</p> + +<p>"He is, is he?" The Cap'n rolled up his lip and growled.</p> + +<p>"But I know just how brave you are, to put down all your anger at +the word of a poor woman. And a true gentleman, too. There are only +a few real gentlemen in the world, after all."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n slid his thumb into the armhole of his waistcoat and swelled +his chest out a little.</p> + +<p>"There was no man ever come it over me, and some good ones have tried +it, ma'am. So fur as women goes, I ain't never been married, but I +reckon I know what politeness to a lady means."</p> + +<p>She smiled at him brightly, and with such earnest admiration that +he felt a flush crawling up from under his collar. He blinked at her +and looked away. Starboard, with an embarrassing aptness that is +sometimes displayed by children, whistled a few bars of "A Sailor's +Wife a Sailor's Star Should Be."</p> + +<p>"I don't mind owning up to you that my brother has imposed upon me +in a great many ways," said the little lady, her eyes flashing. "I +have endured a good deal from him because he is my brother. I know +just how you feel about him, Cap'n, and that's why it makes me feel +that we have a—a sort of what you might call common interest. I don't +know why I'm talking so frankly with you, who are almost a stranger, +but I've been—I have always lacked friends so much, that now I can't +seem to help it. You truly do seem like an old friend, you have been +so willing to do what I asked of you, after you had time to think +it over."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n was now congratulating himself that he hadn't blurted out +anything about the bridge director and that sapling fence. It +certainly was a grateful sound—that praise from the pretty lady! +He didn't want to interrupt it.</p> + +<p>"Now will you go on with that story of the storm?" she begged, +hitching the chair a bit nearer. "I want to hear about your +adventures."</p> + +<p>She had all the instincts of Desdemona, did that pretty little lady. +Three times that week she came to the toll-house and listened with +lips apart and eyes shining. Cap'n Sproul had never heard of Othello +and his wooing, but after a time his heart began to glow under the +reverent regard she bent on him. Never did mutual selection more +naturally come about. She loved him for the perils he had braved, +and he—robbed of his mistress, the sea—yearned for just such +companionship as she was giving him. He had known that life lacked +something. This was it.</p> + +<p>And when one day, after a stuttering preamble that lasted a full half +hour, he finally blurted out his heart-hankering, she wept a little +while on his shoulder—it being luckily a time when there was no one +passing—and then sobbingly declared it could never be.</p> + +<p>"'Fraid of your brother, hey?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>She bumped her forehead gently on his shoulder in nod of assent.</p> + +<p>"I reckon ye like me?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Aaron!" It was a volume of rebuke, appeal, and affection in two +words.</p> + +<p>"Then there ain't nothin' more to say, little woman. You ain't never +had any one to look out for your int'rests in this life. After this, +it's me that does it. I don't want your money. I've got plenty of +my own. But your interests bein' my interests after this, you hand +ev'rything over to me, and I'll put a twist in the tail of that Bengal +tiger in your fam'ly that 'll last him all his life."</p> + +<p>At the end of a long talk he sent her away with a pat on her shoulder +and a cheery word in her ear.</p> + +<p>It was Old Man Jordan who, a week or so later, on his way to the village +with butter in his bucket, stood in the middle of the road and tossed +his arms so frenziedly that Colonel Ward, gathering up his speed +behind the willows, pulled up with an oath.</p> + +<p>"Ye're jest gittin' back from up-country, ain't ye?" asked Uncle +Jordan.</p> + +<p>"What do you mean, you old fool, by stoppin' me when I'm busy? What +be ye, gittin' items for newspapers?"</p> + +<p>"No, Kun'l Ward, but I've got some news that I thought ye might like +to hear before ye went past the toll-house this time. Intentions +between Cap'n Aaron Sproul and Miss Jane Ward has been published."</p> + +<p>"Wha-a-at!"</p> + +<p>"They were married yistiddy."</p> + +<p>"Wha—" The cry broke into inarticulateness.</p> + +<p>"The Cap'n ain't goin' to be toll-man after to-day. Says he's goin' +to live on the home place with his wife. There!" Uncle Jordan stepped +to one side just in time, for the gaunt horse sprung under the lash +as though he had the wings of Pegasus.</p> + +<p>The Cap'n was sitting in front of the toll-house. The tall horse +galloped down the hill, but the Colonel stood up, and, with elbows +akimbo and hands under his chin, yanked the animal to a standstill, +his splay feet skating through the highway dust. The Colonel leaped +over the wheel and reversed his heavy whip-butt. The Cap'n stood up, +gripping a stout cudgel that he had been whittling at for many hours.</p> + +<p>While the new arrival was choking with an awful word that he was +trying his best to work out of his throat, the Cap'n pulled his little +note-book out of his pocket and slowly drawled:</p> + +<p>"I reckoned as how ye might find time to stop some day, and I've got +your account all figgered. You owe thirteen tolls at ten cents each, +one thutty, and thirteen times three dollars fine—the whole +amountin' to jest forty dollars and thutty cents. Then there's a gate +to—"</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' to kill you right in your tracks where you stand!" bellowed +the Colonel.</p> + +<p>The Cap'n didn't wait for the attack. He leaped down off his porch, +and advanced with the fierce intrepidity of a sea tyrant.</p> + +<p>"You'll pay that toll bill," he gritted, "if I have to pick it out +of your pockets whilst the coroner is settin' on your remains."</p> + +<p>The bully of the countryside quailed.</p> + +<p>"You've stole my sister!" he screamed. "This ain't about toll I'm +talkin'. You've been and robbed me of my sister!"</p> + +<p>"Do you want to hear a word on that?" demanded the Cap'n, grimly. +He came close up, whirling the cudgel. "You're an old, cheap, +ploughed-land blowhard, that's what you are! You've cuffed 'round +hired men and abused weak wimmen-folks. I knowed you was a coward +when I got that line on ye. You don't dast to stand up to a man like +me. I'll split your head for a cent." He kept advancing step by step, +his mien absolutely demoniac. "I've married your sister because she +wanted me. Now I'm goin' to take care of her. I've got thutty thousand +dollars of my own, and she's giv' me power of attorney over hers. +I'll take every cent of what belongs to her out of your business, +and I know enough of the way that your business is tied up to know +that I can crowd you right to the wall. Now do ye want to fight?"</p> + +<p>The tyrant's face grew sickly white, for he realized all that threat +meant.</p> + +<p>"But there ain't no need of a fight in the fam'ly—and I want you +to understand that I'm a pretty dum big part of the fam'ly after this. +Be ye ready to listen to reason?"</p> + +<p>"You're a robber!" gasped the Colonel, trying again to muster his +anger.</p> + +<p>"I've got a proposition to make so that there won't be no pull-haulin' +and lawyers to pay, and all that."</p> + +<p>"What is it?"</p> + +<p>"Pardnership between you and me—equal pardners. I've been lookin' +for jest this chance to go into business."</p> + +<p>The Colonel leaped up, and began to stamp round his wagon.</p> + +<p>"No, sir," he howled at each stamp. "I'll go to the poor-farm first."</p> + +<p>"Shouldn't wonder if I could put you there," calmly rejoined the +Cap'n. "These forced lickidations to settle estates is something +awful when the books ain't been kept any better'n yours. I shouldn't +be a mite surprised to find that the law would get a nab on you for +cheatin' your poor sister."</p> + +<p>Again the Colonel's face grew white.</p> + +<p>"All is," continued the Cap'n, patronizingly, "if we can keep it all +in the fam'ly, nice and quiet, you ain't goin' to git showed up. Now, +I ain't goin' to listen to no more abuse out of you. I'll give you +jest one minute to decide. Look me in the eye. I mean business."</p> + +<p>"You've got me where I'll have to," wailed the Colonel.</p> + +<p>"Is it pardnership?"</p> + +<p>"Yas!" He barked the word.</p> + +<p>"Now, Colonel Ward, there's only one way for you and me to do bus'ness +the rest of our lives, and that's on the square, cent for cent. We +might as well settle that p'int now. Fix up that toll bill, or it's +all off. I won't go into business with a man that don't pay his honest +debts."</p> + +<p>He came forward with his hand out.</p> + +<p>The Colonel paid.</p> + +<p>"Now," said the Cap'n, "seein' that the new man is here, ready to +take holt, and the books are all square, I'll ride home with you. +I've been callin' it home now for a couple of days."</p> + +<p>The new man at the toll-house heard the Cap'n talking serenely as +they drove away.</p> + +<p>"I didn't have any idee, Colonel, I was goin' to like it so well on +shore as I do. Of course, you meet some pleasant and some unpleasant +people, but that sister of yours is sartinly the finest woman that +ever trod shoe-leather, and it was Providunce a-speakin' to me when +she—"</p> + +<p>The team passed away into the gloomy mouth of the Smyrna bridge.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>III</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>Once on a time when the Wixon boy put Paris-green in the Trufants' +well, because the oldest Trufant girl had given him the mitten, Marm +Gossip gabbled in Smyrna until flecks of foam gathered in the corners +of her mouth.</p> + +<p>But when Cap'n Aaron Sproul, late of the deep sea, so promptly, so +masterfully married Col. Gideon Ward's sister—after the irascible +Colonel had driven every other suitor away from that patient +lady—and then gave the Colonel his "everlasting comeuppance," and +settled down in Smyrna as boss of the Ward household, that event +nearly wore Gossip's tongue into ribbons.</p> + +<p>"I see'd it from a distance—the part that happened in front of the +toll-house," said Old Man Jordan. "Now, all of ye know that Kun'l +Gid most gin'ly cal'lates to eat up folks that says 'Boo' to him, +and pick his teeth with slivers of their bones. But talk about your +r'yal Peeruvian ragin' lions—of wherever they come from—why, that +Cap'n Sproul could back a 'Rabian caterwouser right off'm +Caterwouser Township! I couldn't hear what was said, but I see Kun'l +Gid, hoss-gad and all, backed right up into his own wagon; and Cap'n +Sproul got in, and took the reins away from him as if he'd been a +pindlin' ten-year-old, and drove off toward the Ward home place. And +that Cap'n don't seem savage, nuther."</p> + +<p>"Wal, near's I can find out," said Odbar Broadway from behind his +counter, where he was counting eggs out of Old Man Jordan's bucket, +"the Cap'n had a club in one hand and power of attorney from Kun'l +Gid's sister in the other—and a threat to divide the Ward estate. +The way Gid's bus'ness is tied up jest at present would put a knot +into the tail of 'most any kind of a temper."</p> + +<p>"I'm told the Cap'n is makin' her a turrible nice husband," observed +one of the store loungers.</p> + +<p>Broadway folded his specs into their case and came from behind the +counter.</p> + +<p>"Bein' a bus'ness man myself," he said, "I come pretty nigh knowin' +what I'm talkin' about. Kun'l Gid Ward can never flout and jeer that +the man that has married his sister was nothin' but a prop'ty-hunter. +I'm knowin' to it that Cap'n Sproul has got thutty thousand in vessel +prop'ty of his own, 'sides what his own uncle Jerry here left to him. +Gid Ward has trompled round this town for twenty-five years, and +bossed and browbeat and cussed, and got the best end of every trade. +If there's some one come along that can put the wickin' to him in +good shape, I swow if this town don't owe him a vote of thanks."</p> + +<p>"There's a movement on already to ask Cap'n Sproul to take the office +of first s'lec'man at the March meetin'," said one of the loafers.</p> + +<p>"I sha'n't begretch him one mite of his popularity," vowed the +storekeeper. "Any man that can put Kun'l Gid Ward where he belongs +is a better thing for the town than a new meetin'-house would be."</p> + +<p>But during all this flurry of gossip Cap'n Aaron Sproul spent his +bland and blissful days up under the shade of the big maple in the +Ward dooryard, smoking his pipe, and gazing out over the expanse of +meadow and woodland stretching away to the horizon.</p> + +<p>Most of the time his wife was at his elbow, peering with a species +of adoration into his browned countenance as he related his tales +of the sea. She constantly carried a little blank-book, its ribbon +looped about her neck, and made copious entries as he talked. She +had conceived the fond ambition of writing the story of his life. +On the cover was inscribed, in her best hand:</p> + +<center><h3>FROM SHORE TO SHORE</h3> + +<p>LINES FROM A MARINER'S ADVENTURES</p> + +<p><i>The Life Story of the Gallant Captain Aaron Sproul</i></p> + +<p><i>Written by His Affectionate Wife</i></p></center> + +<p>"I reckon that Providunce put her finger on my compass when I steered +this way. Louada Murilla," said the Cap'n one day, pausing to relight +his pipe.</p> + +<p>He had insisted on renaming his wife "Louada Murilla," and she had +patiently accepted the new name with the resignation of her patient +nature. But the name pleased her after her beloved lord had +explained.</p> + +<p>"I was saving that name for the handsomest clipper-ship that money +could build," he said. "But when I married you, little woman, I got +something better than a clipper-ship; and when you know sailorman's +natur' better, you'll know what that compliment means. Yes, +Providunce sent me here," continued the Cap'n, poking down his +tobacco with broad thumb. "There I was, swashin' from Hackenny to +t'other place, livin' on lobscouse and hoss-meat; and here you was, +pinin' away for some one to love you and to talk to you about something +sensibler than dropped stitches and croshayed lamp-mats. Near's I +can find out about your 'sociates round here, you would have got more +real sense out of talkin' with Port and Starboard up there," he added, +pointing to his pet parrots, which had followed him in his wanderings. +"We was both of us hankerin' for a companion—I mean a married +companion. And I reckon that two more suiteder persons never started +down the shady side—holt of hands, hey?"</p> + +<p>He caught her hands and pulled her near him, and she bent down and +kissed his weather-beaten forehead.</p> + +<p>At that instant Col. Gideon Ward came clattering into the yard in +his tall wagon. He glared at this scene of conjugal affection, and +then lashed his horse savagely and disappeared in the direction of +the barn.</p> + +<p>"I read once about a skelington at a feast that rattled his dry bones +every time folks there started in to enjoy themselves," said the +Cap'n, after he watched the scowling Colonel out of sight. "For the +last two weeks, Louada Murilla, it don't seem as if I've smacked you +or you've smacked me but when I've jibed my head I've seen that ga'nt +brother-in-law o' mine standing off to one side sourer'n a home-made +cucumber pickle."</p> + +<p>"It's aggravatin' for you, I know it is," she faltered. "But I've +been thinkin' that perhaps he'd get more reconciled as the time goes +on."</p> + +<p>"Reconciled?" snapped the Cap'n, a little of the pepper in his nature +coming to the surface. "If it was any one but you little woman, that +talked about me as though I was death or an amputated leg in this +family, I'd get hot under the collar. But I tell ye, we ain't got +many years left to love each other in. We started pritty late. We +can't afford to waste any time. And we can't afford to have the edge +taken off by that Chinese image standin' around and makin' faces. +I've been thinkin' of tellin' him so. But the trouble is with me that +when I git to arguin' with a man I'm apt to forgit that I ain't on +shipboard and talkin' to a tar-heel."</p> + +<p>He surveyed his brown fists with a certain apprehensiveness, as +though they were dangerous parties over whom he had no control.</p> + +<p>"I should dretfully hate to have anything come up between you and +Gideon, Cap'n," she faltered, a frightened look in her brown eyes. +"It wouldn't settle anything to have trouble. But you've been about +so much and seen human nature so much that it seems as though you +could handle him different than with—with—"</p> + +<p>"Poundin' him, eh?" Smiles broke over the skipper's face. "See how +I'm softened, little woman!" he cried. "Time was when I would have +chased a man that made faces at me as he done just now, and I'd have +pegged him into the ground. But love has done a lot for me in makin' +me decent. If I keep on, I'll forgit I've got two fists—and that's +something for a shipmaster to say, now, I'll tell ye! A man has got +to git into love himself to know how it feels."</p> + +<p>Sudden reflection illuminated his face.</p> + +<p>"Ain't old pickalilly—that brother of yourn—ever been in love?" +he asked.</p> + +<p>"Why—why," she stammered, "he's been in—well, sometimes now I +think perhaps it ain't love, knowin' what I do now—but he's been +engaged to Pharlina Pike goin' on fifteen years. And he's been +showin' her attentions longer'n that. But since I've met you and +found out how folks don't usually wait so long if they—they're in +love—well, I've—"</p> + +<p>"Fifteen years!" he snorted. "What is he waitin' for—for her to grow +up?"</p> + +<p>"Land sakes, no! She's about as old as he is. She's old Seth Pike's +daughter, and since Seth died she has run the Pike farm with hired +help, and has done real well at it. Long engagements ain't thought +strange of 'round here. Why, there's—"</p> + +<p>"Fifteen years!" he repeated. "That's longer'n old Methus'lum +courted."</p> + +<p>"But Gideon has been so busy and away from home so much in the woods, +and Pharlina ain't been in no great pucker, seein' that the farm was +gettin' on well, and—"</p> + +<p>"There ain't no excuse for him," broke in the Cap'n, with vigor. He +was greatly interested in this new discovery. His eyes gleamed. +"'Tain't usin' her right. She can't step up to him and set the day. +'Tain't woman's sp'ere, that ain't. I didn't ask you to set the day. +I set it myself. I told you to be ready."</p> + +<p>Her cheek flushed prettily at the remembrance of that impetuous +courtship, when even her dread of her ogre brother had been overborne +by the Cap'n's masterful manner, once she had confessed her love.</p> + +<p>"I know what love is myself," went on the Cap'n. "He don't know; +that's what the trouble is with him. He ain't been waked up. Let him +be waked up good and plenty, and he won't be standin' around makin' +faces at us. I see what's got to be done to make a happy home of this. +You leave it to me."</p> + +<p>They saw the Colonel stamping in their direction from the barn.</p> + +<p>"You run into the house, Louada Murilla," directed the Cap'n, "and +leave me have a word with him."</p> + +<p>The Colonel was evidently as anxious as the Cap'n for a word.</p> + +<p>"Say, Sproul," he gritted, as he came under the tree, "I've got an +offer for the stumpage on township number eight. Seein' that you're +in equal partners with me on my sister's money," he sneered, "I reckon +I've got to give ye figures and prices, and ask for a permit to run +my own business."</p> + +<p>"Seems 'most as if you don't enj'y talkin' business with me," +observed the Cap'n, with a meek wistfulness that was peculiarly +aggravating to his grouchy partner.</p> + +<p>"I'd about as soon eat pizen!" stormed the other.</p> + +<p>"Then let's not do it jest now," the Cap'n returned, sweetly. "I've +got something more important to talk about than stumpage. Money and +business ain't much in this world, after all, when you come to know +there's something diff'runt. Love is what I'm referrin' to. Word has +jest come to me that you're in love, too, the same as I am."</p> + +<p>The gaunt Colonel glared malevolently down on the sturdy figure +sprawling in the garden chair. The Cap'n's pipe clouds curled about +his head, and his hands were stuffed comfortably into his trousers +pockets. His face beamed.</p> + +<p>"Some might think to hear you talk that you was a soft old fool that +had gone love-cracked 'cause a woman jest as soft as you be has showed +you some attention," choked the Colonel. "But I know what you're +hidin' under your innocent-Abigail style. I know you're a +jill-poke."</p> + +<p>"A what?" blandly asked Sproul.</p> + +<p>"That's woods talk for the log that makes the most trouble on the +drive—and it's a mighty ornery word."</p> + +<p>"Er—something like 'the stabboard pi-oogle,' which same is a +seafarin' term, and is worse," replied the Cap'n, with bland interest +in this philological comparison. "But let's not git strayed off'm +the subject. Your sister, Louada Murilla—"</p> + +<p>The gaunt man clacked his bony fists together in ecstasy of rage.</p> + +<p>"She was christened Sarah Jane, and that's her name. Don't ye insult +the father and mother that gave it to her by tackin' on another. I've +told ye so once; I tell ye so—"</p> + +<p>"Louada Murilla," went on the Cap'n, taking his huge fists out of +his pockets and cocking them on his knees, not belligerently, but +in a mildly precautionary way, "told me that you had been engaged +to a woman named Phar—Phar—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, give her any name to suit ye!" snarled the Colonel. "That's what +ye're doin' with wimmen round here."</p> + +<p>"You know who I mean," pursued Sproul, complacently, "seein' that +you've had fifteen years to study on her name. Now, bein' as I'm one +of the fam'ly, I'm going to ask you what ye're lally-gaggin' along +for? Wimmen don't like to be on the chips so long. I am speakin' to +you like a man and a brother when I say that married life is what +the poet says it is. It's—"</p> + +<p>"I've stood a good deal from you up to now!" roared Ward, coming close +and leaning over threateningly. "You come here to town with so much +tar on ye that your feet stuck every time you stood still in one place; +you married my sister like you'd ketch a woodchuck; you've stuck your +fingers into my business in her name—but that's jest about as fur +as you can go with me. There was only one man ever tried to advise +me about gitting married—and he's still a cripple. There was no man +ever tried to recite love poetry to me. You take fair warnin'."</p> + +<p>"Then you ain't willin' to listen to my experience, considerin' that +I've been a worse hard-shell than you ever was in marriage matters, +and now see the errors of my ways?" The Cap'n was blinking up +wistfully.</p> + +<p>"It means that I take ye by your heels and snap your head off," rasped +Ward, tucking his sleeves away from his corded wrists. "You ain't +got your club with you this time."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n sighed resignedly.</p> + +<p>"Now," went on the Colonel, with the vigorous decision of a man who +feels that he has got the ascendency, "you talk about something that +amounts to something. That stumpage on number eight is mostly cedar +and hackmatack, and I've got an offer from the folks that want +sleepers for the railroad extension."</p> + +<p>He went on with facts and figures, but the Cap'n listened with only +languid interest. He kept sighing and wrinkling his brows, as though +in deep rumination on a matter far removed from the stumpage question. +When the agreement of sale was laid before him he signed with a +blunted lead-pencil, still in his trance.</p> + +<p>"Northin' but a cross-cut saw with two axe-handles for legs," he said +to himself, his eyes on the Colonel's back as that individual stamped +wrathfully away. "Teeth and edge are hard as iron! It's no good to +talk mattermony to him. Prob'ly it wouldn't do no good for me to talk +mattermony to Phar—Phar—to t'other one. She couldn't ask him to +go git a minister. 'Tain't right to put that much onto a woman's +shoulders. The trouble with him is that he's too sure of wimmen. Had +his sister under his thumb all them years, and thought less and less +of her for stayin' there. He's too sure of t'other. Thinks nobody +else wants her. Thinks all he's got to do is step round and git her +some day. Ain't got no high idee of wimmen like I have. Thinks they +ought to wait patient as a tree in a wood-lot. Has had things too +much his own way, I say. Hain't never had his lesson. Thinks nobody +else don't want her, hey? And she can wait his motions! He needs his +lesson. Lemme see!"</p> + +<p>With his knurly forefinger at his puckered forehead he sat and +pondered.</p> + +<p>He was very silent at supper.</p> + +<p>The Colonel, still exulting in his apparent victory, said many +sneering and savage things, and clattered his knife truculently on +his plate. Sproul merely looked at him with that wistful +preoccupation that still marked his countenance.</p> + +<p>"He's a quitter," pondered the Colonel. "I reckon he ain't playin' +lamb so's to tole me on. He's growed soft—that's what he's done."</p> + +<p>Ward went to sleep that night planning retaliation.</p> + +<p>Sproul stayed awake when the house was quiet, still pondering.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>IV</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>During the next few days, as one treads farther and farther out upon +thin ice to test it, the Colonel craftily set about regaining, +inch by inch, his lost throne as tyrant. Occasionally he checked +himself in some alarm, to wonder what meant that ridging of the +Cap'n's jaw-muscles, and whether he really heard the seaman's teeth +gritting. Once, when he recoiled before an unusually demoniac glare +from Sproul, the latter whined, after a violent inward struggle:</p> + +<p>"It beats all how my rheumaticks has been talkin' up lately. I don't +seem to have no ginger nor spirit left in me. I reckon I got away +from the sea jest in time. I wouldn't even dare to order a nigger +to swab decks, the way I'm feelin' now."</p> + +<p>"You've allus made a good deal of talk about how many men you've +handled in your day," said the Colonel, tucking a thumb under his +suspender and leaning back with supercilious cock of his gray +eyebrows. "It's bein' hinted round town here more or less that you're +northin' but bluff. I don't realize, come to think it over, how I +ever come to let you git such a holt in my fam'ly. I—"</p> + +<p>The two were sitting, as was their custom in those days of the +Colonel's espionage, under the big maple in the yard. A man who was +passing in the highway paused and leaned on the fence.</p> + +<p>"Can one of you gents tell me," he asked, "where such a lady as Miss +Phar"—he consulted a folded paper that he held in his +hand—"Pharleena Pike lives about here?"</p> + +<p>He was an elderly man with a swollen nose, striated with purple veins. +Under his arm he carried a bundle done up in meat-paper.</p> + +<p>There was a queer glint of excitement in the eyes of the Cap'n. But +he did not speak. He referred the matter to Ward with a jab of his +thumb.</p> + +<p>"What do you want to know where Miss Pike lives for?" demanded the +Colonel, looking the stranger over with great disfavor.</p> + +<p>"None of your business," replied the man of the swollen nose, +promptly. "I've asked a gent's question of one I took to be a gent, +and I'd like a gent's reply."</p> + +<p>"You see," said Cap'n Sproul to the stranger, with a confidential +air, as though he were proposing to impart the secret of the Colonel's +acerbity, "Colonel Ward here is—"</p> + +<p>"You go 'long two miles, swing at the drab school-house, and go to +the second white house on the left-hand side of the road!" shouted +Ward, hastily breaking in on the explanation. His thin cheeks flushed +angrily. The man shuffled on.</p> + +<p>"Why don't you print it on a play-card that I'm engaged to Pharlina +Pike and hang it on the fence there?" the Colonel snorted, wrathfully, +whirling on the Cap'n. "Didn't it ever occur to you that some things +in this world ain't none of your business?"</p> + +<p>The Cap'n sighed with the resigned air that he had been displaying +during the week past.</p> + +<p>"Lemme see, where was I?" went on the Colonel, surlily. "I was sayin', +wasn't I, that I didn't see how I'd let you stick yourself into this +fam'ly as you've done? It's time now for you and me to git to a +reck'nin'. There's blamed liars round here snick'rin' in their +whiskers, and sayin' that you've backed me down. Now—"</p> + +<p>Another man was at the fence, and interrupted with aggravating +disregard of the Colonel's intentness on the business in hand. This +stranger was short and squat, stood with his feet braced wide apart, +and had a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. His broad face wore +a cheery smile.</p> + +<p>"I've beat nor'west from the railroad, fetched a covered bridge on +the port quarter, shipmates," he roared, jovially, "and here I be, +bearin's lost and dead-reck'nin' skow-wowed."</p> + +<p>"Seems to be your breed," sneered Ward to the Cap'n. "What's that +he's sayin', put in human language?"</p> + +<p>"I'm chartered for port—port"—he also referred to a folded +paper—"to port Furliny Pike, som'eres in this latitude. Give me +p'ints o' compass, will ye?"</p> + +<p>Ward leaped to his feet and strode toward the fence, his long legs +working like calipers.</p> + +<p>"What do ye want of Pharline Pike?" he demanded, angrily.</p> + +<p>"None of your business," replied the cheerful sailor. "If this is +the way landlubbers take an honest man's hail, ye're all jest as bad +as I've heard ye was."</p> + +<p>"I'm a mind to cuff your ears," yapped the Colonel.</p> + +<p>The other glanced up the angular height of his antagonist.</p> + +<p>"Try it," he said, squaring his sturdy little figure. "Try it, and +I'll climb your main riggin' and dance a jig on that dog-vane of a +head of yourn."</p> + +<p>This alacrity for combat clearly backed down Ward. In his rampageous +life his tongue had usually served him better than his fists.</p> + +<p>"Avast, shipmate!" called the Cap'n, in his best sea tones. The +sailor beamed delighted recognition of marine masonry. "The fact of +the matter is, my friend here has some claim—the truth is, he's—"</p> + +<p>"You go 'long two miles, swing at the drab school-house, and then +take the second house—white one—on the left-hand side of the road," +bawled Ward, "and you go mighty quick!"</p> + +<p>The sailor ducked acknowledgment and rolled away.</p> + +<p>"If you'd unpinned that mouth of yourn fur enough to tell that tramp +that I'm engaged to Pharline Pike," growled Ward, returning to the +tree, "I'd 'a' broke in your head—and you might as well know it first +as last."</p> + +<p>"Ain't you engaged to her?"</p> + +<p>"You know I be."</p> + +<p>"Well, I've allus told the truth all my life—and I reckon I shall +continner to tell it. If you're ashamed to have it knowed that you're +engaged to Pharlina Pike, then it's time she heard so. I'd jest as +soon tell her as not."</p> + +<p>"I started to say to you," raged Ward, "that you'd stuck your finger +into my pie altogether too deep. I ain't killed as many sailors as +you're braggin' on, but there ain't no man ever licked Gid Ward, +and—"</p> + +<p>"Near's I can tell from what I hear about you," retorted the Cap'n, +"built on racin' lines as you be, you've never let a man git near +enough to lick ye."</p> + +<p>Again the Colonel noted that red vengefulness in the skipper's eyes, +and recoiled suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"Oh, my rheumaticks!" the seaman hastened to moan.</p> + +<p>Ward had his back to the fence.</p> + +<p>"I cal'late as how there's another party that wants his bearin's," +suggested Sproul.</p> + +<p>A rather decayed-looking gentleman, wearing a frock-coat shiny at +the elbows, and a fuzzy plug-hat, was tapping his cane against one +of the pickets to attract attention.</p> + +<p>"I am looking for the residence of Miss Pharlina Pike," he announced, +with a precise puckering of his lips. "I'll thank you for a word of +direction. But I want to say, as a lowly follower of the Lord—in +evangelical lines—that it is not seemly for two men to quarrel in +public."</p> + +<p>Ward had been gaping at him in amazement.</p> + +<p>"I can tell ye right now," he cried, "that Miss Pharline Pike ain't +hirin' no farm-hand that wears a plug-hat! There ain't no need of +your goin' to her place."</p> + +<p>"My dear sir," smiled the decayed gentleman, "it is a delicate matter +not to be canvassed in public; but I can assure you that I shall not +remain with Miss Pike as a menial or a bond-servant. Oh no! Not by +any means, sir!"</p> + +<p>Ward scruffed his hand over his forehead, blinking with puzzled +astonishment.</p> + +<p>"I'll thank you for the directions," said the stranger. "They were +not able to give me exact instructions at the village—at least, I +cannot remember them."</p> + +<p>"I ain't no dadfired guide-board to stand here all day and p'int the +way to Pharline Pike's," roared Ward, with a heat that astonished +the decayed gentleman.</p> + +<p>"I don't want no elder to go away from this place and report that +he wa'n't used respectful," said Sproul, meekly, addressing the +stranger. "You'll have to excuse Colonel Ward here. P'r'aps I can +say for him, as a pertickler friend, what it wouldn't be modest for +him to say himself. The fact is, he's en—"</p> + +<p>The infuriated Ward leaped up and down on the sward and shrieked the +road instructions to the wayfarer, who hustled away, casting +apprehensive glances over his shoulder.</p> + +<p>But when the Colonel turned again on the Cap'n, the latter rose and +hobbled with extravagant limpings toward the house.</p> + +<p>"I don't reckon I can stay out here and pass talk with you, +brother-in-law," he called back, reproachfully. "Strangers, passin' +as they be, don't like to hear no such language as you're usin'. Jest +think of what that elder said!"</p> + +<p>Ward planted himself upon a garden chair, and gazed down the road +in the direction in which the strangers had gone. He seemed to be +thinking deeply, and the Cap'n watched him from behind one of the +front-room curtains.</p> + +<p>Two more men passed up the road. At the first, the Colonel flourished +his arms and indulged in violent language, the gist of which the Cap'n +did not catch. He ran to the fence when the second accosted him, tore +off a picket, and flung it after the fleeing man.</p> + +<p>Then he sat down and pondered more deeply still.</p> + +<p>He cast occasional glances toward the house, and once or twice arose +as though to come in. But he sat down and continued to gaze in the +direction of Pharlina Pike's house.</p> + +<p>It was late in the afternoon when a woman came hurrying down the slope +through the maple-sugar grove. The Cap'n, at his curtain with his +keen sea eye, saw her first. He had been expecting her arrival. He +knew her in the distance for Pharlina Pike, and realized that she +had come hot-foot across lots.</p> + +<p>Sproul was under the big maple as soon as she.</p> + +<p>"For mercy sakes, Colonel Gid," she gasped, "come over to my house +as quick's you can!"</p> + +<p>She had come up behind him, and he leaped out of his chair with a +snap like a jack-in-the-box.</p> + +<p>"There's somethin' on, and I knowed it!" he squalled. "What be them +men peradin' past here to your house for, and tellin' me it ain't +none of my business? You jest tell me, Pharline Pike, what you mean +by triflin' in this way?"</p> + +<p>"Lord knows what it's all about! I don't!" she quavered.</p> + +<p>"You do know, too!" he yelled. "Don't ye try to pull wool over my +eyes! You do know, too!"</p> + +<p>"It's a turrible thing to be jealous," cooed Cap'n Sproul to his +trembling little wife, who had followed at his heels.</p> + +<p>"I don't know, either," wailed the spinster. "There's one of 'em in +the settin'-room balancin' a plug-hat on his knees and sayin', 'Lo! +the bridegroom cometh'; and there's two on the front steps kickin' +the dog ev'ry time he comes at 'em; and there's one in the kitchen +that smells o' tar, and has got a bagful of shells and sech things +for presents to me; there's one in the barn lookin' over the +stock—and I s'pose they're comin' down the chimbly and up the suller +stairs by this time. You're the only one I've got in the world to +depend on, Colonel Gid. For mercy sakes, come!"</p> + +<p>"What do they say—what's their excuse?" he demanded, suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"They say—they say," she wailed—"they say they want to marry me, +but I don't know what they've all come hov'rin' round me for—honest +to Moses I don't!" She folded her hands in her apron and wrung them. +"I'm pretty nigh scart to death of 'em," she sobbed.</p> + +<p>"I reckon you can give 'em an earful when you git down there," said +the Cap'n, "when you tell 'em that you've been engaged to her for +fifteen years. But it ain't none surprisin' that men that hear of +that engagement should most natch'ally conclude that a woman would +like to git married after a while. I cal'late ye see now, +brother-in-law, that you ain't the only man that appreciates what +a good woman Miss Pharlina Pike is."</p> + +<p>"You come along, Pharline," said the Colonel, taking her arm, after +he had bored the Cap'n for a moment with flaming eye. "I reckon I +can pertect ye from all the tramps ever let loose out of +jails—and—and when I git to the bottom of this I predict there'll +be bloodshed—there'll be bones broke, anyway." With one more +malevolent look at the Cap'n he started away.</p> + +<p>"It's only a short cut through the maple growth, Louada Murilla," +said Sproul. "My rheumaticks is a good deal better of a sudden. Let's +you and me go along."</p> + +<p>As they trudged he saw farmers at a distance here and there, and +called to them to follow.</p> + +<p>"Look here, I don't need no bee!" howled the Colonel. "This ain't +nothing to spread broadcast in this community."</p> + +<p>"Never can tell what's li'ble to happen," retorted Sproul. +"Witnesses don't never hurt cases like this."</p> + +<p>He continued to call the farmers, despite Ward's objurgations. +Farmers called their wives. All followed behind the engaged couple. +As usually happens in country communities, word had gone abroad in +other directions that there were strange doings at the Pike place. +With huge satisfaction the Cap'n noted that the yard was packed with +spectators.</p> + +<p>"Where be ye?" bellowed Colonel Ward, now in a frenzy. "Where be ye, +ye scalawags that are round tryin' to hector a respectable woman that +wouldn't wipe her feet on ye? Come out here and talk to me!"</p> + +<p>The neighbors fell back, recognizing his authority in the matter; +and the men who were suing this modern Penelope appeared from various +parts of the premises.</p> + +<p>"I desire to say, as a clergyman along evangelical lines, and not +a settled pastor," said the man in the fuzzy plug-hat, "that I do +not approve of this person's violent language. I have seen him once +before to-day, and he appeared singularly vulgar and unrefined. He +used violent language then. I desire to say to you, sir, that I am +here on the best of authority"—he tapped his breast pocket—"and +here I shall remain until I have discussed the main question +thoroughly with the estimable woman who has invited me here."</p> + +<p>"It's a lie—I never invited him, Colonel Gid!" cried the spinster. +"If you're any part of a man, and mean any part of what you have allus +said to me, you'll make him take that back."</p> + +<p>For a moment the Colonel's jealous suspicion had flamed again, but +the woman's appeal fired him in another direction.</p> + +<p>"Look here, you men," he shouted, his gaze running over plug-hat, +swollen nose, seaman's broad face, and the faces of the other suitors, +"I'm Gideon Ward, of Smyrna, and I've been engaged to Miss Pharline +Pike for fifteen years, and—"</p> + +<p>"Then I don't blame her for changing her mind, ye bloody landlubber!" +snorted the seaman, smacking his hand upon his folded paper.</p> + +<p>"Being engaged signifies little in the courts of matrimony," said +the decayed-looking man with dignity. "She has decided to choose +another, and—"</p> + +<p>Colonel Ward threw back his shoulders and faced them all with +glittering eyes.</p> + +<p>"I'd like to see the man that can step into this town and lug off +the woman that's promised to me," he raved. "Engagements don't hold, +hey? Then you come this way a week from to-day, and you'll see Gideon +Ward and Pharline Pike married as tight as a parson can tie the knot. +I mean it!" The excitement of the moment, his rage at interference +in his affairs, his desire to triumph thus publicly over these +strangers, had led him into the declaration.</p> + +<p>The spinster gasped, but she came to him and trustfully put her hand +on his arm.</p> + +<p>"P'raps some can be put off by that bluff," said the man with the +swollen nose, "but not me that has travelled. I'm here on business, +and I've got the dockyments, and if there's any shenanigan, then some +one's got to pay me my expenses, and for wear and tear." He waved +a paper.</p> + +<p>Ward leaped forward and snatched the paper from his grasp.</p> + +<p>"It's about time for me to see what you're flourishing round here +promiskous, like a bill o' sale of these primises," he snarled.</p> + +<p>"You can read it, and read it out jest as loud as you want to," said +the man, coming forward and putting a grimy finger on a paragraph +displayed prominently on the folded sheet of newspaper.</p> + +<p>The Colonel took one look and choked. An officious neighbor grabbed +away the paper when Ward made a sign as though to tuck it into his +pocket.</p> + +<p>"I'll read it," said the neighbor. "Mebbe my eyesight is better'n +yourn." Then he read, in shrill tones:</p> + +<center><h3>"NOTICE TO BACHELORS</h3></center> + +<p>"Unmarried maiden lady, smart and good-looking, desires good husband. +Has two-hundred-and-thirty-acre farm in good state of cultivation, +well stocked, and will promise right party a home and much affection. +Apply on premises to Pharlina Pike, Smyrna."</p> + +<p>"I never—I never—dadrat the liar that ever wrote that!" screamed +the spinster.</p> + +<p>"You see for yourself," said the man of the swollen nose, ignoring +her disclaimer. "We're here on business, and expect to be treated +like business men—or expenses refunded to us."</p> + +<p>But the Colonel roared wordlessly, like some angry animal, seized +a pitchfork that was leaning against the side of the spinster's ell, +and charged the group of suitors. His mien was too furious. They fled, +and fled far and forever.</p> + +<p>"There's some one," said Ward, returning into the yard and driving +the fork-tines into the ground, "who has insulted Miss Pike. I'd give +a thousand dollars to know who done that writin'."</p> + +<p>Only bewildered stares met his furious gaze.</p> + +<p>"I want you to understand," he went on, "that no one can drive me +to git married till I'm ready. But I'm standin' here now and tellin' +the nosy citizens of this place that I'm ready to be married, and +so's she who is goin' to be my companion, and we'll 'tend to our own +business in spite of the gossips of Smyrna. It's for this day week! +I don't want no more lyin' gossip about it. You're gittin' it straight +this time. It's for this day week; no invitations, no cards, no +flowers, no one's durnation business. There, take that home and chaw +on it. Pharline, let's you and me go into the house."</p> + +<p>"I reckon there's witnesses enough to make that bindin'," muttered +Cap'n Sproul under his breath.</p> + +<p>He bent forward and tapped the Colonel on the arm as Ward was about +to step upon the piazza.</p> + +<p>"Who do ye suspect?" he whispered, hoarsely.</p> + +<p>It was a perfectly lurid gaze that his brother-in-law turned on him.</p> + +<p>What clutched Ward's arm was a grip like a vise. He glared into the +Colonel's eyes with light fully as lurid as that which met his gaze. +He spoke low, but his voice had the grating in it that is more ominous +than vociferation.</p> + +<p>"I thought I'd warn ye not to twit. My rheumaticks is a good deal +better at this writin', and my mind ain't so much occupied by other +matters as it has been for a week or so. When you come home don't +talk northin' but business, jest as you natch'ally would to a +brother-in-law and an equal pardner. That advice don't cost northin', +but it's vallyble."</p> + +<p>As Cap'n Sproul trudged home, his little wife's arm tucked snugly +in the hook of his own, he observed, soulfully:</p> + +<p>"Mattermony, Louada Murilla—mattermony, it is a blessed state that +it does the heart good to see folks git into as ought to git into +it. As the poet says—um-m-m, well, it's in that book on the +settin'-room what-not. I'll read it to ye when we git home."</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>V</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>Cap'n Aaron Sproul was posted that bright afternoon on the end of +his piazza. He sat bolt upright and twiddled his gnarled thumbs +nervously. His wife came out and sat down beside him.</p> + +<p>"Where you left off, Cap'n," she prompted meekly, "was when the black, +whirling cloud was coming and you sent the men up-stairs—"</p> + +<p>"Aloft!" snapped Cap'n Sproul.</p> + +<p>"I mean aloft—and they were unfastening the sails off the ropes, +and—"</p> + +<p>"Don't talk of snuggin' a ship like you was takin' in a wash," roared +the ship-master, in sudden and ungallant passion. It was the first +impatient word she had received from him in that initial, cozy year +of their marriage. Her mild brown eyes swam in tears as she looked +at him wonderingly.</p> + +<p>"I—I haven't ever seen a ship or the sea, but I'm trying so hard +to learn, and I love so to hear you talk of the deep blue ocean. It +was what first attracted me to you." Her tone was almost a whimper.</p> + +<p>But her meekness only seemed to increase the Cap'n's impatience.</p> + +<p>"You haven't seemed to be like your natural self for a week," she +complained, wistfully. "You haven't seemed to relish telling me +stories of the sea and your narrow escapes. You haven't even seemed +to relish vittles and the scenery. Oh, haven't you been weaned from +the sea yet, Aaron?"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul continued to regard his left foot with fierce gloom. +He was giving it his undivided attention. It rested on a wooden +"cricket," and was encased in a carpet slipper that contrasted +strikingly with the congress boot that shod his other foot. Red roses +and sprays of sickly green vine formed the pattern of the carpet +slipper. The heart of a red rose on the toe had been cut out, as though +the cankerworm had eaten it; and on a beragged projection that stuck +through and exhaled the pungent odor of liniment, the Cap'n's +lowering gaze was fixed.</p> + +<p>"There's always somethin' to be thankful for," said his meek wife, +her eyes following his gaze. "You've only sprained it, and didn't +break it. Does it still ache, dear?"</p> + +<p>"It aches like—of course it aches!" roared the Cap'n. "Don't ask +that jeebasted, fool question ag'in. I don't mean to be tetchy, +Louada Murilla," he went on, after a little pause, a bit of mildness +in his tone, "but you've got to make allowance for the way I feel. +The more I set and look at that toe the madder I git at myself. Oh, +I hadn't ought to have kicked that cousin of yourn, that's what I +hadn't!"</p> + +<p>"You don't know how glad I am to hear you say that, Aaron," she cried, +with fervor. "I was afraid you hadn't repented."</p> + +<p>"I ought to 'a' hit him with a club and saved my toe, that's what +I mean," he snorted, with grim viciousness.</p> + +<p>She sighed, and he resumed his dismal survey of the liniment-soaked +rags.</p> + +<p>"Once when I was—" he resumed, in a low growl, after a time.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm so glad you're goin' to tell a story, Cap'n," she chirped, +welcoming his first return of good-nature since his mishap.</p> + +<p>"There ain't no story to it," he snapped. "I only want to say that +there's a place down in Africa where I put in with the <i>Jefferson +P. Benn</i> one time, where they daub honey on folks that they want to +git red of, and anchor 'em on an ant-bed. That's jest what's happenin' +to me here in Smyrna, and my thutty thousand dollars that I've worked +hard for and earnt and saved is the honey. You've lived among them +here all your life, Louada Murilla, and I s'pose you've got more or +less wonted to 'em. But if I hadn't squirmed and thrashed round a +little durin' the time I've lived here, after marryin' you and +settlin' down among 'em, they'd have et me, honey, money, hide, and +hair. As it is, they've got their little lunch off'm me. I haven't +thrashed round enough till—till yistiddy."</p> + +<p>He wriggled the toe in the centre of the rose, and grunted.</p> + +<p>"I was in hopes we wouldn't have any more trouble in the family, only +what we've had with brother Gideon since we've been married," she +said mildly. "Of course, Marengo Todd is only a second cousin of mine, +but still, he's in the family, you know, and families hang together, +'cause blood—"</p> + +<p>"Blood is what they want, blast 'em!" he bawled, angrily. "I've used +Marengo Orango, there, or whatever you call him, all right, ain't +I? I've let him do me! He knowed I was used to sea ways, and wa'n't +used to land ways, and that he <i>could</i> do me. I lent him money, first +off, because I liked you. And I've lent him money sence because I +like a liar—and he's a good one! I've used all your relatives the +best I've knowed how, and—and they've turned round and used me! But +I've put a dot, full-stop, period to it—and I done it with that toe," +he added, scowling at the pathetic heart of the red rose.</p> + +<p>"I wish it hadn't been one of the family," she sighed.</p> + +<p>"It couldn't well help bein' one," snarled the Cap'n. "They're about +all named Todd or Ward round here but one, and his name is Todd Ward +Brackett, and he's due next. And they're all tryin' to borry money +off'm me and sell me spavined hosses. Now, let's see if they can take +a hint." He tentatively wriggled the toe some more, and groaned. "The +Todds and the Wards better keep away from me."</p> + +<p>Then he suddenly pricked up his ears at the sound of the slow rumble +of a wagon turning into the yard. The wagon halted, and they heard +the buzzing twang of a jew's-harp, played vigorously.</p> + +<p>"There's your Todd Ward Brackett. I predicted him! 'Round here to +sell ye rotten thread and rusted tinware and his all-fired Balm o' +Joy liniment."</p> + +<p>"It's good liniment, and I need some more for your toe, Aaron," +pleaded his wife, putting her worsted out of her lap.</p> + +<p>"I'll chop that toe off and use it for cod bait before I'll cure it +by buying any more liniment off'm him," the Cap'n retorted. "You jest +keep your settin', Louada Murilla. I'll tend to your fam'ly end after +this."</p> + +<p>He struggled up and began to hop toward the end of the piazza. The +new arrival had burst into cheery song:</p> + +<p> "There was old Hip Huff, who went by freight<br> + To Newry Corner, in this State.<br> + Packed him in a—"</p> + +<p>There was a red van in the yard, its side bearing the legend:</p> + +<center><h4>T. BRACKETT,</h4> + +<h4>TINWARE AND YANKEE NOTIONS.</h4> + +<h4>LICENSED BY C. C.</h4></center> + +<p>A brisk, little, round-faced man sat on the high seat, bolt upright +in the middle of it, carolling lustily. It was "Balm o' Joy" Brackett, +pursuing his humble vocation and using his familiar method of +attracting customers to their doors.</p> + +<p>"Shet up that clack!" roared the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Hillo, hullo, hallah, gallant Captain," chirped Brackett, +imperturbable under the seaman's glare. "I trust that glory floods +your soul and all the world seems gay." And he went on breathlessly:</p> + +<p>"May ev'ry hour of your life seem like a pan of Jersey milk, and may +you skim the cream off'm it. Let's be happy, let's be gay, trade with +me when I come your way. Tinware shines like the new-ris' sun, twist, +braid, needles beat by none; here's your values, cent by cent, and +Balm o' Joy lin-i-ment. Trade with—"</p> + +<p>"Git out o' this yard!" bawled the Cap'n, in his storm-and-tempest +tones. "You crack-brained, rag-and-bone-land-pirate, git off'm my +premises! I don't want your stuff. I've bought the last cent's wu'th +of you I'll ever buy. Git out!"</p> + +<p>"The Cap'n isn't well to-day, Todd," quavered Mrs. Sproul. Fear +prompted her to keep still. But many years of confidential barter +of rags for knicknacks had made Todd Brackett seem like "own folks," +as she expressed it. "We won't trade any to-day," she added, +apologetically.</p> + +<p>"Nor we won't trade ever," bawled the Cap'n, poising himself on one +foot like an angry hawk. "You go 'long out of this yard."</p> + +<p>Without losing his smile—for he had been long accustomed to the +taunts and tirades of dissatisfied housewives—the peddler backed +his cart around and drove away, crying over his shoulder with great +good-humor:</p> + +<p>"A merry life and a jolly life is the life for you and me!"</p> + +<p>"I'll make life merry for ye, if ye come into this yard ag'in, you +whiffle-headed dog-vane, you!" the Cap'n squalled after him. But +Brackett again struck up his roundelay:</p> + +<p> "There was old Hip Huff, who went by freight<br> + To Newry Corner, in this State.<br> + Put him in a crate to git him there,<br> + With a two-cent stamp to pay his fare.<br> + Rowl de fang-go—old Smith's mare."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n hopped into the house and set his foot again on the cricket +that his wife brought dutifully. He gritted his teeth as long as the +voice of the singer came to his ears.</p> + +<p>"I wish you hadn't," mourned his wife; "he's as good-meaning a man +as there is in town, even if he is a little light-headed. He's always +given me good trades, and his st'ilyards don't cheat on rags."</p> + +<p>The old mariner was evidently preparing a stinging reply, but a knock +on the door interrupted him. Louada Murilla admitted three men, who +marched in solemnly, one behind the other, all beaming with great +cordiality. Cap'n Sproul, not yet out of the doldrums, simply +glowered and grunted as they took seats.</p> + +<p>Then one of them, whom Sproul knew as Ludelphus Murray, the local +blacksmith, arose and cleared his throat with ominous formality.</p> + +<p>"It's best to hammer while the iron is hot, Cap'n," he said. "It won't +take many clips o' the tongue to tell you what we've come for. We +three here are a committee from the Smyrna Ancient and Honer'ble +Firemen's Association to notify you that at a meetin' last ev'nin' +you was unanimously elected a member of that organization, and—"</p> + +<p>"Oh, Aaron!" cried Louada Murilla, ecstatically. "How glad I am this +honor has been given to you! My own father belonged."</p> + +<p>"And," continued Murray, with a satisfied smile, and throwing back +his shoulders as one who brings great tidings, "it has been realized +for a long time that there ain't been the discipline in the +association that there ought to be. We have now among us in our midst +one who has commanded men and understands how to command men; one +who has sailed the ragin' deep in times of danger, and—and, well, +a man that understands how to go ahead and take the lead in tittlish +times. So the association"—he took a long breath—"has elected you +foreman, and I hereby hand you notice of the same and the book of +rules."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n scowled and put his hand behind the rocking-chair in which +he was seated.</p> + +<p>"Not by a—" he began, but Murray went on with cheerful explanation.</p> + +<p>"I want to say to you that this association is over a hundred years +old, and our hand tub, the 'Hecla,' is ninety-seven years old, and +has took more prizes squirtin' at musters than any other tub in the +State. We ain't had many fires ever in Smyrna, but the Ancients take +the leadin' rank in all social events, and our dances and banquets +are patronized by the best."</p> + +<p>"It's an awful big honor, Aaron," gasped his wife. She turned to the +committee. "The Cap'n hasn't been feelin' well, gentlemen, and this +honor has kind of overcome him. But I know he appreciates it. My own +father was foreman once, and it's a wonderful thing to think that +my husband is now."</p> + +<p>"'Tain't likely that the Ancients will ever forgit them dinners we +had here, Mis' Sproul," remarked one of the men, 'suffling' the +moisture at the corners of his mouth.</p> + +<p>"Seein' that you ain't well, we don't expect no speech, Cap'n," said +Murray, laying the documents upon Sproul's knee. "I see that the +honor has overcome you, as it nat'rally might any man. We will now +take our leave with a very good-day, and wishin' you all of the best, +yours truly, and so forth." He backed away, and the others rose.</p> + +<p>"Pass through the kitchen, gentlemen," said Mrs. Sproul, eagerly. +"I will set out a treat." They trudged that way with deep bows at +the threshold to their newly drafted foreman, who still glared at +them speechlessly.</p> + +<p>When Mrs. Sproul returned at length, still fluttering in her +excitement, he was reading the little pamphlet that had been left +with him, a brick-red color slowly crawling up the back of his neck.</p> + +<p>"Just think of it for an honor, Aaron," she stammered, "and you here +in town only such a little while! Oh, I am so proud of you! Mr. Murray +brought the things in his team and left them on the piazza. I'll run +and get them."</p> + +<p>She spread them on the sitting-room floor, kneeling before him like +a priestess offering sacrifice. With his thumb in the pamphlet, he +stared at the array.</p> + +<p>There was a battered leather hat with a broad apron, or scoop, behind +to protect the back. On a faded red shield above the visor was the +word "Foreman." There were two equally battered leather buckets. +There was a dented speaking-trumpet. These the Cap'n dismissed one +by one with an impatient scowl. But he kicked at one object with his +well foot.</p> + +<p>"What's that infernal thing?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"A bed-wrench, Aaron. It's to take apart corded beds so as to get +them out of houses that are on fire. There aren't hardly any corded +beds now, of course, but it's a very old association that you're +foreman of, and the members keep the old things. It's awfully nice +to do so, I think. It's like keeping the furniture in old families. +And that big bag there, with the puckerin'-string run around it, is +the bag to put china and valuables into and lug away."</p> + +<p>"And your idee of an honor, is it," he sneered, "is that I'm goin' +to put that dingbusset with a leather back-fin onto my head and grab +up them two leather swill-pails and stick that iron thing there under +my arm and grab that puckering-string bag in my teeth and start +tophet-te-larrup over this town a-chasin' fires? Say—" but his +voice choked, and he began to read once more the pamphlet. The red +on the back of his neck grew deeper.</p> + +<p>At last the explosion occurred.</p> + +<p>"Louada Murilla Sproul, do you mean to say that you've had this thing +in your fam'ly once, and was knowin' what it meant, and then let them +three Shanghaiers come in here and shove this bloodsucker bus'ness +onto me, and git away all safe and sound? I had been thinkin' that +your Todds and Wards was spreadin' some sail for villuns, but they're +only moskeeters to Barb'ry pirates compared with this."</p> + +<p>He cuffed his hand against the open pages of the pamphlet.</p> + +<p>"It says here that the foreman has to set up a free dinner for 'em +four times a year and ev'ry holiday. It says that the foreman is fined +two dollars for ev'ry monthly meetin' that he misses, other members +ten cents. He's fined ten dollars for ev'ry fire that he isn't at, +other members a quarter of a dollar. He's fined one dollar for ev'ry +time he's ketched without his hat, buckets, bag, and bed-wrench hung +in his front hall where they belong, other members ten cents. And +he's taxed a quarter of the whole expenses of gittin' to firemen's +muster and back. Talk about lettin' blood with a gimlet! Why, they're +after me with a pod-auger!"</p> + +<p>All the afternoon he read the little book, cuffed it, and cursed. +He snapped up Louada Murilla with scant courtesy when she tried to +give him the history of Smyrna's most famous organization, and +timorously represented to him the social eminence he had attained.</p> + +<p>"It isn't as though you didn't have money, and plenty of it," she +pleaded. "You can't get any more good out of it than by spending it +that way. I tell you, Aaron, it isn't to be sneezed at, leading all +the grand marches at the Ancients' dances and being boss of 'em all +at the muster, with the band a-playin' and you leading 'em right up +the middle of the street. It's worth it, Aaron—and I shall be so +proud of you!"</p> + +<p>He grumbled less angrily the next morning. But he still insisted that +he didn't propose to let the consolidated Todds and Wards of Smyrna +bunco him into taking the position, and said that he should attend +the next meeting of the Ancients and resign.</p> + +<p>But when, on the third evening after his election, the enthusiastic +members of the Smyrna A. & H.F.A. came marching up from the village, +the brass band tearing the air into ribbons with cornets and +trombones, his stiff resolve wilted suddenly. He began to grin +shamefacedly under his grizzled beard, and hobbled out onto the porch +and made them a stammering speech, and turned scarlet with pride when +they cheered him, and basked in the glory of their compliments, and +thrilled when they respectfully called him "Chief." He even told +Louada Murilla that she was a darling, when she, who had been +forewarned, produced a "treat" from a hiding-place in the cellar.</p> + +<p>"I knew you'd appreciate it all as soon as you got wonted to the honor, +Aaron," she whispered, happy tears in her eyes. "It's the social +prominence—that's all there is to it. There hasn't been a fire in +the town for fifteen years, and you aren't going to be bothered one +mite. Oh, isn't that band just lovely?"</p> + +<p>The Cap'n went to bed late that night, his ears tingling with the +adulation of the multitude, and in his excited insomnia +understanding for the first time in his life the words: "Uneasy lies +the head that wears a crown." He realized more fully now that his +shipmaster days had given him a taste for command, and that he had +come into his own again.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>VI</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>The new chief of the Ancients devoted the first hours of the next +morning to the arrangement of his fire-fighting gear in the front +hall, and when all the items had been suspended, so that they would +be ready to his hand as well as serve as ornament, he went out on +the porch and sunned himself, revelling in a certain snug and +contented sense of importance, such as he hadn't felt since he had +stepped down from the quarter-deck of his own vessel. He even gazed +at the protruding and poignant centre of that rose on his carpet +slipper with milder eyes, and sniffed aromatic whiffs of liniment +with appreciation of its invigorating odor.</p> + +<p>It was a particularly peaceful day. From his porch he could view a +wide expanse of rural scenery, and, once in a while, a flash of sun +against steel marked the location of some distant farmer in his +fields. There were no teams in sight on the highway, for the men of +Smyrna were too busily engaged on their acres. He idly watched a trail +of dun smoke that rose from behind a distant ridge and zigzagged +across the blue sky. He admired it as a scenic attraction, without +attaching any importance to it. Even when a woman appeared on the +far-off ridge and flapped her apron and hopped up and down and +appeared to be frantically signalling either the village in the +valley or the men in the fields, he only squinted at her through the +sunlight and wondered what ailed her. A sudden inspiring thought +suggested that perhaps she had struck a hornets' nest. He chuckled.</p> + +<p>A little later a ballooning cloud of dust came rolling down the road +toward him and the toll-bridge that led to Smyrna village. He noted +that the core of the cloud was a small boy, running so hard that his +knees almost knocked under his chin. He spun to a halt in front of +the Cap'n's gate and gasped:</p> + +<p>"Fi-ah, fi-ah, fi-ah-h-h-h, Chief! Ben Ide's house is a-fi-ah. I'll +holler it in the village and git 'em to ring the bell and start +'Hecla.'" Away he tore.</p> + +<p>"Fire!" bawled Cap'n Aaron, starting for the front hall with a scuff, +a hop, a skip, and jump, in order to favor his sprained toe. "Fire +over to Ben Ide's!"</p> + +<p>He had his foreman's hat on wrong side to when his wife came bursting +out of the sitting-room into the hall. She, loyal though excited lady +of the castle, shifted her knight's helmet to the right-about and +stuffed his buckets, bag, and bed-wrench into his hands. The cord +of his speaking-trumpet she slung over his neck.</p> + +<p>"I helped get father ready once, twenty years ago," she stuttered, +"and I haven't forgot! Oh, Aaron, I wish you hadn't got such a +prejudice against owning a horse and against Marengo when he tried +to sell you that one. Now you've got to wait till some one gives you +a lift. You can't go on that foot to Ide's."</p> + +<p>"Hoss!" he snorted. "Marengo! What he tried to sell me would be a +nice thing to git to a fire with! Spavined wusser'n a carpenter's +saw-hoss, and with heaves like a gasoline dory! I can hop there on +one foot quicker'n he could trot that hoss there! But I'll git there. +I'll git there!"</p> + +<p>He went limping out of the door, loaded with his equipment.</p> + +<p>The Methodist bell had not begun to ring, and it was evident that +the messenger of ill tidings had not pattered into the village as +yet.</p> + +<p>But there was a team in sight. It was "Balm o' Joy" Brackett, his +arms akimbo as he fished on the reins to hurry his horse. He was coming +from the direction of the toll-bridge, and had evidently met the boy.</p> + +<p>"I've got my lo'd—I've got my lo'd, but I'll leave behind me all +o' the ro'd," he chirped, when the Cap'n went plunging toward him +with the evident intention of getting on board.</p> + +<p>"I'm foreman of the Ancients," roared the Cap'n, "and I have the right +to press into service any craft I see passin'. Take me aboard, I say, +dumblast ye!"</p> + +<p>"This ain't no high seas," retorted Brackett, trying to lick past. +"You can drive gents out of your dooryard, but you can't do no +press-gang bus'ness on 'em."</p> + +<p>It was apparent that even "Balm o' Joy's" bland nature could +entertain resentment.</p> + +<p>"'Tain't right to lay up grudges ag'inst a man that was fussed up +like I was, Mister Brackett," pleaded the Cap'n, hopping along beside +the van. "I've got to git to that fire, I tell you. I'm the foreman! +I'll use you right, after this. I will, I tell you. Lemme on board."</p> + +<p>"Promus' flies high when it's hot and dry!" twittered the peddler, +still cheerful but obstinate.</p> + +<p>"I'll give ye five dollars to take me to Ben Ide's—ten!" he roared, +when Brackett showed no sign of stopping.</p> + +<p>"Promus' on the ground can be better found. Whoa!" cried Brackett, +promptly. "I'll take the fare before you climb up! You'll be so busy +when you git to the fire that I wouldn't want to bother you then."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n glowered but chewed his lips to prevent retort, pulled his +wallet, and paid. Then he gathered his apparatus and grunted up to +the high seat.</p> + +<p>Far behind them the excited clang-clang of the Methodist bell was +pealing its first alarm.</p> + +<p>"By the time they git hosses up out of the fields and hitched onto +'Hecla,' and git their buckets and didoes and git started, I reckon +things will be fried on both sides at Ben Ide's," chatted the peddler.</p> + +<p>"Lick up! Lick up!" barked the Cap'n. "I'm payin' for a quick ride +and not conversation."</p> + +<p>Brackett clapped the reins along his nag's skinny flank, set his +elbows on his knees, and began:</p> + +<p> "There was old Hip Huff, who went by freight,<br> + To Newry Corner, in—"</p> + +<p>"Luff, luff!" snorted the Cap'n, in disgust.</p> + +<p>"Luff, luff?" queried the songster.</p> + +<p>"Yes, luff! Avast! Belay! Heave to! I don't like caterwaulin'. You +keep your mind right on drivin' that hoss."</p> + +<p>"You must have been a pop'lar man all your life," remarked the peddler, +with a baleful side-glance. "Does politeness come nat'ral to you, +or did you learn it out of a book?"</p> + +<p>The Cap'n made no reply. He only hitched himself forward as though +trying to assist the momentum of the cart, and clutched his buckets, +one in each hand.</p> + +<p>A woman came flying out of the first house they passed and squalled:</p> + +<p>"Where's the fire, Mr. Brackett, and is anybody burnt up, and hadn't +you jest as liv' take my rags now? I've got 'em all sacked and ready +to weigh, and I sha'n't be to home after to-day."</p> + +<p>Brackett pulled up.</p> + +<p>"Blast your infernal pelt," howled the Cap'n, "you drive on!"</p> + +<p>"Bus'ness is bus'ness," muttered the peddler, "and you ain't bought +me and my team with that little old ten dollars of yourn, and you +can't do northin', anyway, till Hecla gits there with the boys, and +when you're there I don't see what you're goin' to amount to with +that sore toe."</p> + +<p>He was clearly rebellious. Cap'n Sproul had touched the tenderest +spot in T.W. Brackett's nature by that savage yelp at his vocal +efforts. But the chief of the Ancients had been wounded as cruelly +in his own pride. He stood up and swung a bucket over the crouching +peddler.</p> + +<p>"Drive on, you lubber," he howled, "or I'll peg you down through that +seat like I'd drive a tack. Drive on!"</p> + +<p>Brackett ducked his head and drove. And the Cap'n, summoning all the +resources of a vocabulary enriched by a sea experience of thirty +years, yelled at him and his horse without ceasing.</p> + +<p>When they topped the ridge they were in full view of Ide's doomed +buildings, and saw the red tongues of flame curling through the +rolling smoke.</p> + +<p>But a growing clamor behind made the Chief crane his neck and gaze +over the top of the van.</p> + +<p>"Hecla" was coming!</p> + +<p>Four horses were dragging it, and two-score men were howling along +with it, some riding, but the most of them clinging to the brake-beams +and slamming along through the dust on foot. A man, perched beside +the driver, was bellowing something through a trumpet that sounded +like:</p> + +<p>"Goff-off-errow, goff-off-errow, goff-off-errow!"</p> + +<p>The peddler was driving sullenly, and without any particular +enterprise. But this tumult behind made his horse prick up his ears +and snort. When the nag mended his pace and began to lash out with +straddling legs, the Cap'n yelled:</p> + +<p>"Let him go! Let him go! They want us to get off the road!"</p> + +<p>"Goff-off-errow!" the man still bellowed through the trumpet.</p> + +<p>"I've got goods that will break and I'll be cuss-fired if I'll break +'em for you nor the whole Smyrna Fire Department!" screamed Brackett; +but when he tried to pull up his steed, the Cap'n, now wholly beside +himself and intent only on unrestricted speed, banged a leather +bucket down across the driver's hands.</p> + +<p>Brackett dropped the reins, with a yell of pain, and they fell into +the dust and dragged. The horse broke into a bunchy, jerky gallop, +and lunged down the hill, the big van swaying wildly with an ominous +rattling and crashing in its mysterious interior.</p> + +<p>There were teams coming along a cross-road ahead of them and teams +rattling from the opposite direction toward the fire, approaching +along the highway they were travelling. Collisions seemed inevitable. +But in a moment of inspiration the Cap'n grabbed the trumpet that +hung from its red cord around his neck and began to bellow in his +turn:</p> + +<p>"Goff-off-errow, goff-off-errow!" It was as nearly as human voice +could phrase "Get off the road" through the thing.</p> + +<p>The terrifying bulk of the big van cleared the way ahead, even though +people desperately risked tip-ups in the gutter. As it tore along, +horses climbed fences with heads and tails up. There were men +floundering in bushes and women squalling from the tops of +rock-heaps.</p> + +<p>The Chief of the Ancients did not halt to attend to his duties at +the fire. He went howling past on the high seat of the van, over the +next ridge and out of sight.</p> + +<p>"We're goin' to tophet, and you done it, and you've got to pay for +it," Brackett wailed over and over, bobbing about on the seat. But +the Cap'n did not reply. Teams kept coming into sight ahead, and he +had thought only for his monotonous bellow of "Goff-off-errow!"</p> + +<p>Disaster—the certain disaster that they had despairingly +accepted—met them at the foot of Rines' hill, two miles beyond Ide's. +The road curved sharply there to avoid "the Pugwash," as a +particularly mushy and malodorous bog was called in local +terminology.</p> + +<p>At the foot of the hill the van toppled over with a crash and anchored +the steaming horse, already staggering in his exhaustion. Both men +had scrambled to the top of the van, ready to jump into the Pugwash +as they passed. The Cap'n still carried his equipment, both buckets +slung upon one arm, and even in this imminent peril it never occurred +to him to drop them. Lucky fate made their desperate leap for life +a tame affair. When the van toppled they were tossed over the roadside +into the bog, lighted on their hands and knees, and sank slowly into +its mushiness like two Brobdingnagian frogs.</p> + +<p>It was another queer play of fate that the next passer was Marengo +Todd, whipping his way to the fire behind a horse that had a bit of +wire pinched over his nose to stifle his "whistling."</p> + +<p>Marengo Todd leaped out and presented the end of a fence-rail to +Brackett first, and pulled him out.</p> + +<p>When he stuck the end of the rail under the Cap'n's nose the Cap'n +pushed it away with mud-smeared hands.</p> + +<p>"I don't, myself, nuss grudges in times of distress, Cap Sproul," +shouted Todd. "You kicked me. I know that. But you was in the wrong, +and you got the wu'st of it. Proverdunce has allus settled my grudges +for me in jest that way. I forgive and pass on, but Proverdunce don't. +Take that fence-rail. It sha'n't ever be said by man that Marengo +Todd nussed a grudge."</p> + +<p>When the Cap'n was once more on solid ground, Todd, still iterating +his forgiveness of past injuries, picked up a tin pie-plate that had +been jarred out of the van among other litter, and began to scrape +the black mud off the foreman of the Ancients in as matter-of-fact +a way as though he were currycombing a horse.</p> + +<p>The spirit of the doughty mariner seemed broken at last. He looked +down at himself, at the mud-clogged buckets and his unspeakable +bedragglement.</p> + +<p>"I've only got one word to say to you right here and now, Cap'n," +went on Todd, meekly, "and it's this, that no man ever gits jest where +he wants to git, unless he has a ree-li'ble hoss. I've tried to tell +you so before, but—but, well, you didn't listen to me the way you +ought to." He continued to scrape, and the Cap'n stared mutely down +at the foot that was encased in a muddy slipper.</p> + +<p>"Now, there's a hoss standin' there—" pursued Todd.</p> + +<p>"What will you take for that team jest as it stands?" blurted the +mariner, desperately. The fire, the smoke of which was rolling up +above the distant tree-tops, and his duty there made him reckless. +As he looked down on Todd he hadn't the heart to demand of that meek +and injured person that he should forget and forgive sufficiently +to take him in and put him down at Ide's. It seemed like crowding +the mourners. Furthermore, Cap'n Aaron Sproul was not a man who +traded in humble apologies. His independence demanded a different +footing with Todd, and the bitter need of the moment eclipsed economy. +"Name your price!"</p> + +<p>"A hundred and thutty, ev'rything throwed in, and I'll drive you +there a mile a minit," gasped Todd, grasping the situation.</p> + +<p>With muddy hands, trembling in haste, the Cap'n drew his long, fat +wallet and counted out the bills. Brackett eyed him hungrily.</p> + +<p>"You might jest as well settle with me now as later through the law," +he cried.</p> + +<p>But the Cap'n butted him aside, with an oath, and climbed into the +wagon.</p> + +<p>"You drive as though the devil had kicked ye," he yelled to Todd. +"It's my hoss, and I don't care if you run the four legs off'm him."</p> + +<p>Half-way to Ide's, a man leaped the roadside fence and jumped up and +down before them in the highway. He had a shotgun in his hands.</p> + +<p>"It's my brother—Voltaire," shouted Marengo, pulling up, though +Cap'n Sproul swore tempestuously. "You've got to take him on. He +b'longs to your fire comp'ny."</p> + +<p>"I was out huntin' when I heard the bell," bellowed the new passenger, +when he had scrambled to a place behind the wagon-seat, his back +toward them and his legs hanging down. "I'm fu'st hoseman, and it's +lucky you came along and giv' me a lift." He set his gun-butt down +between his knees, the muzzle pointing up.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul had his teeth set hard upon a hank of his grizzled +whiskers, and his eyes on the smoke ahead. Todd ran his wheezing horse +up the ridge, and when they topped it they beheld the whole moving +scene below them.</p> + +<p>Men were running out of the burning house, throwing armfuls of goods +right and left. The "Hecla" was a-straddle of the well, and rows of +men were tossing at her brake-beams.</p> + +<p>"Give her tar, give her tar!" yelled the man behind, craning his thin +neck. Todd lashed at the horse and sent him running down the slope. +At the foot of the declivity, just before they came to the lane +leading into Ide's place, there was a culvert where the road crossed +a brook.</p> + +<p>The boarding in the culvert made a jog in the road, and when the wagon +struck this at top speed its body flipped behind like the tongue of +a catapult.</p> + +<p>The man with the gun, having eyes and senses only for the fire and +his toiling fellow-Ancients, was unprepared. He went up, out, and +down in the dust, doggedly clinging to his gun. He struck the ground +with it still between his knees. The impact of the butt discharged +both barrels straight into the air.</p> + +<p>Flanked by a roaring fire and howling crowd, and bombarded in the +rear, even a horse with a bone spavin and the heaves will exhibit +the spirit of Bucephalus. One of the rotten reins broke at Marengo's +first terrified tug. In less time than it takes to tell, Cap'n Aaron +Sproul, desperate and beholding only one resource—the tail +flaunting over the dasher—seized it and gave a seaman's sturdy pull. +The tail came away in his hands and left only a wildly brandishing +stump. Even in that moment of horror, the Cap'n had eyes to see and +wit to understand that this false tail was more of Marengo Todd's +horse-jockey guile. The look that he turned on the enterprising +doctor of caudal baldness was so perfectly diabolical that Marengo +chose what seemed the lesser of two evils. He precipitated himself +over the back of the seat, dropped to the ground as lightly as a cat, +ran wildly until he lost his footing, and dove into some wayside +alders. Cap'n Aaron Sproul was left alone with his newly acquired +property!</p> + +<p>When he hove in sight of his own house he saw Louada Murilla on the +porch, gazing off at the smoke of the fire and evidently luxuriating +in the consciousness that it was her husband who was that day leading +the gallant forces of the Ancients.</p> + +<p>As he stared wildly, home seemed his haven and the old house his rock +of safety. He did not understand enough about the vagaries of horses +and wagons to appreciate the risk. One rein still hung over the +dasher.</p> + +<p>"Only one jib down-haul left of all the riggin'," he groaned, and +then grabbed it and surged on it.</p> + +<p>The horse swung out of the road, the wagon careering wildly on two +wheels. Sproul crossed the corner of some ploughed land, swept down +a length of picket-fence, and came into his own lane, up which the +horse staggered, near the end of his endurance. The wagon swung and +came to grief against the stone hitching-post at the corner of the +porch. Cap'n Sproul, encumbered still with buckets and bag and +trumpet, floundered over the porch rail, through a tangled mass of +woodbine vines, and into the arms of his distracted wife.</p> + +<p>For five minutes after she had supported him to a chair she could +do nothing but stare at him, with her hands clasped and her eyes +goggling, and cry, "Aaron, Aaron, dear!" in crescendo. His sole +replies to her were hollow sounds in his throat that sounded like +"unk!"</p> + +<p>"Where have you been?" she cried. "All gurry, and wet as sop? If you +are hurt what made 'em let their Chief come home all alone with that +wild hoss? Aaron, can't you speak?"</p> + +<p>He only flapped a muddy hand at her, and seemed to be beyond speech. +There was a dull, wondering look in his eyes, as though he were trying +to figure out some abstruse problem. He did not brighten until a team +came tearing up to the gate, and a man with a scoop fireman's hat +on came running to the porch. The man saluted.</p> + +<p>"Chief," he said, with the air of an aide reporting on the field of +battle, "that house and barn got away from us, but we fit well for +'em—yas s'r, we fit well! It is thought queer in some quarters that +you wasn't there to take charge, but I told the boys that you'd +prob'ly got good reasons, and they'll git over their mad, all right. +You needn't worry none about that!"</p> + +<p>The Cap'n's sole reply was another of those hollow "unks!"</p> + +<p>"But the boys is pretty well beat out, and so I've run over to ask +if you'll let us use your ten-dollar fine for a treat? That will help +their feelin's to'ards you a good deal, and—"</p> + +<p>The Cap'n, without taking his eyes from the smug face of the man, +swung one of the buckets and let drive at him. It missed. But he had +got his range, and the next bucket knocked off the scoop hat. When +the Cap'n scrambled to his feet, loaded with the bed-wrench for his +next volley, the man turned and ran for his team. The bed-wrench +caught him directly between the shoulders—a masterly shot. The +trumpet flew wild, but by that time the emissary of the Ancients was +in his wagon and away.</p> + +<p>"Aaron!" his wife began, quaveringly, but the Cap'n leaped toward +her, pulled the mouth of the puckering-bag over her head, and hopped +into the house. When at last she ventured to peer in at the +sitting-room window, he was tearing the book of "Rules of the Smyrna +Ancient and Honorable Firemen's Association," using both his hands +and his teeth, and worrying it as a dog worries a bone.</p> + +<p>That was his unofficial resignation. The official one came as soon +as he could control his language.</p> + +<p>And for a certain, prolonged period in the history of the town of +Smyrna it was well understood that Cap'n Aaron Sproul was definitely +out of public affairs. But in public affairs it often happens that +honors that are elusive when pursued are thrust upon him who does +not seek them.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>VII</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>The moderator of the Smyrna town meeting held his breath for just +a moment so as to accentuate the hush in which the voters listened +for his words, and then announced the result of the vote for first +selectman of Smyrna:</p> + +<p>"Whole number cast, one hundred thutty-two; necessary for a choice, +sixty-seven; of which Colonel Gideon Ward has thutty-one."</p> + +<p>A series of barking, derisive yells cut in upon his solemn +announcement, and he rapped his cane on the marred table of the town +hall and glared over his spectacles at the voters.</p> + +<p>"And Cap'n Aaron Sproul has one hundred and—"</p> + +<p>The howl that followed clipped his last words. Men hopped upon the +knife-nicked settees of the town house and waved their hats while +they hooted. A group of voters, off at one side, sat and glowered +at this hilarity. Out of the group rose Colonel Gideon, his long frame +unfolding with the angularity of a carpenter's two-foot rule. There +were little dabs of purple on his knobby cheek-bones. His hair and +his beard bristled. He put up his two fists as far as his arms would +reach and vibrated them, like a furious Jeremiah calling down curses.</p> + +<p>Such ferocious mien had its effect on the spectators after a time. +Smyrna quailed before her ancient tyrant, even though he was +dethroned.</p> + +<p>"Almighty God has always wanted an excuse to destroy this town like +Sodom and Gomorrah was destroyed," he shouted, his voice breaking +into a squeal of rage; "now He's got it."</p> + +<p>He drove his pointed cap onto his head, gave a parting shake of his +fists that embraced moderator, voters, walls, floor, roof, and all +appurtenances of the town house, and stalked down the aisle and out. +The silence in town meeting was so profound that the voters heard +him welting his horse as he drove away.</p> + +<p>After a time the moderator drew a long breath, and stated that he +did not see Cap'n Aaron Sproul in the meeting, and had been informed +that he was not present.</p> + +<p>"I come past his place this mornin'," whispered Old Man Jordan to +his neighbor on the settee, "and he was out shovelin' snow off'm the +front walk, and when I asked him if he wa'n't comin' to town meetin', +he said that a run of the seven years' itch and the scurvy was pretty +bad, but he reckoned that politics was wuss. I should hate to be the +one that has to break this news to him."</p> + +<p>"And seein' how it's necessary to have the first selectman here to +be sworn in before the meetin' closes this afternoon," went on the +moderator, "I'll appoint a committee of three to wait on Cap'n Aaron +Sproul and notify him of the distinguished honor that has been done +him this day by his feller townsmen."</p> + +<p>He settled his spectacles more firmly upon his nose, and ran his gaze +calculatingly over the assembled voters. No one of those patriotic +citizens seemed to desire to be obtrusive at that moment.</p> + +<p>"I'll appoint as chairman of that notifying committee," proceeded +the moderator, "Entwistle Harvey, and as—"</p> + +<p>"I shall have to decline the honor," interrupted Mr. Entwistle Harvey, +rising promptly. The voters grinned. They thoroughly understood the +reason for Mr. Harvey's reluctance.</p> + +<p>"It ain't that I'm any less a reformer than the others that has to-day +redeemed this town from ring rule and bossism," declared Mr. Harvey, +amid applause; "it ain't that I don't admire the able man that has +been selected to lead us up out of the vale of political sorrow—and +I should be proud to stand before him and offer this distinguished +honor from the voters of this town, but I decline because I—I—well, +there ain't any need of goin' into personal reasons. I ain't the man +for the place, that's all." He sat down.</p> + +<p>"I don't blame him none for duckin'," murmured Old Man Jordan to his +seat companion. "Any man that was in the crowd that coaxed Cap'n +Sproul into takin' the foremanship of Heckly Fire Comp'ny has got +a good excuse. I b'lieve the law says that ye can't put a man twice +in peril of his life."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul's stormy relinquishment of the hateful honor that had +been foisted upon him by the Smyrna fire-fighters was history recent +enough to give piquant relish to the present situation. He had not +withheld nor modified his threats as to what would happen to any other +committee that came to him proffering public office.</p> + +<p>The more prudent among Smyrna's voters had hesitated about making +the irascible ex-mariner a candidate for selectman's berth.</p> + +<p>But Smyrna, in its placid New England eddy, had felt its own little +thrill from the great tidal wave of municipal reform sweeping the +country. It immediately gazed askance at Colonel Gideon Ward, for +twenty years first selectman of Smyrna, and growled under its breath +about "bossism." But when the search was made for a candidate to run +against him, Smyrna men were wary. Colonel Ward held too many +mortgages and had advanced too many call loans not to be well +fortified against rivals.</p> + +<p>"The only one who has ever dared to twist his tail is his +brother-in-law, the Cap'n," said Odbar Broadway, oracularly, to the +leaders who had met in his store to canvass the political situation. +"The Cap'n won't be as supple as some in town office, but he ain't +no more hell 'n' repeat than what we've been used to for the last +twenty years. He's wuth thutty thousand dollars, and Gid Ward can't +foreclose no mo'gidge on him nor club him with no bill o' sale. He's +the only prominunt man in town that can afford to take the office +away from the Colonel. What ye've got to do is to go ahead and elect +him, and then trust to the Lord to make him take it."</p> + +<p>So that was what Smyrna had done on that slushy winter's day.</p> + +<p>It did it with secret joy and with ballots hidden in its palms, where +the snapping eyes of Colonel Ward could not spy.</p> + +<p>And now, instead of invoking the higher power mentioned as a resource +by Broadway, the moderator of the town meeting was struggling with +human tools, and very rickety human tools they seemed to be.</p> + +<p>Five different chairmen did he nominate, and with great alacrity the +five refused to serve.</p> + +<p>The moderator took off his glasses, and testily rapped the dented +table.</p> + +<p>"Feller citizens," he snapped, "this is gittin' to be boys' play. +I realize puffickly that Cap'n Aaron Sproul, our first +selectman-elect, has not been a seeker after public office since he +retired as foreman of the Hecla Fire Company. I realize puffickly +that he entertained some feelin' at the time that—that—he wasn't +exactly cal'lated to be foreman of an engine company. But that ain't +sayin' that he won't receive like gentlemen the committee that comes +to tell him that he has been elected to the highest office in this +town. I ain't got any more time to waste on cowards. There's one man +here that ain't afraid of his own shadder. I call on Constable Zeburee +Nute to head the committee, and take along with him Constables Wade +and Swanton. And I want to say to the voters here that it's a nice +report to go abroad from this town that we have to pick from the police +force to get men with enough courage to tell a citizen that he's been +elected first selectman. But the call has gone out for Cincinnatus, +and he must be brought here."</p> + +<p>The moderator's tone was decisive and his mien was stern. Otherwise, +even the doughty Constable Nute might have refused to take orders, +though they were given in the face and eyes of his admiring neighbors. +He gnawed at his grizzled beard and fingered doubtfully the badge +that, as chief constable of the town, he wore on the outside of his +coat.</p> + +<p>"Gents of the committee, please 'tend promptly to the duties +assigned," commanded the moderator, "and we will pass on to the next +article in the town warrant."</p> + +<p>Mr. Nute rose slowly and marched out of the hall, the other two +victims following without any especial signs of enthusiasm.</p> + +<p>In the yard of the town house Mr. Nute faced them, and remarked:</p> + +<p>"I have some ideas of my own as to a genteel way of gittin' him +interested in this honor that we are about to bestow. Has any one +else ideas?"</p> + +<p>The other two constables shook their heads gloomily.</p> + +<p>"Then I'll take the brunt of the talk on me and foller my ideas," +announced Mr. Nute. "I've been studyin' reform, and, furthermore, +I know who Cincinnatus was!"</p> + +<p>The three men unhitched each his own team, and drove slowly, in single +file, along the mushy highway.</p> + +<p>It was one of Cap'n Aaron Sproul's mentally mild, mellow, and benign +days, when his heart seemed to expand like a flower in the comforts +of his latter-life domestic bliss. Never had home seemed so +good—never the little flush on Louada Murilla's cheeks so +attractive in his eyes as they dwelt fondly on her.</p> + +<p>In the night he had heard the sleet clattering against the pane and +the snow slishing across the clapboards, and he had turned on his +pillow with a little grunt of thankfulness.</p> + +<p>"There's things about dry land and the people on it that ain't so +full of plums as a sailor's duff ought to be," he mused, "but—" And +then he dozed off, listening to the wind.</p> + +<p>In the morning, just for a taste of rough weather, he had put on his +slicker and sea-boots and shovelled the slush off the front walk. +Then he sat down with stockinged feet held in the radiance of an open +Franklin stove, and mused over some old log-books that he liked to +thumb occasionally for the sake of adding new comfort to a fit of +shore contentment.</p> + +<p>This day he was taking especial interest in the log-books, for he +was again collaborating with Louada Murilla in that spasmodic +literary effort that she had termed:</p> + +<center><h3>FROM SHORE TO SHORE</h3> + +<p>LINES FROM A MARINER'S ADVENTURES</p> + +<p><i>The Life Story of the Gallant Captain Aaron Sproul</i></p> + +<p><i>Written by His Affectionate Wife</i></p></center> + +<p>"You can put down what's true," he said, continuing a topic that they +had been pursuing, "that boxin' the compass and knowin' a jib +down-haul from a pound of saleratus ain't all there is to a master +mariner's business, not by a blamed sight. Them passuls of cat's meat +that they call sailormen in these days has to be handled,—well, the +superintendent of a Sunday-school wouldn't be fit for the job, unless +he had a little special trainin'."</p> + +<p>Louada Murilla, the point of her pencil at her lips, caught a +vindictive gleam in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"But it seems awful cruel, some of the things that you—you—I +suppose you had to do 'em, Aaron! And yet when you stop and think +that they've got immortal souls to save—"</p> + +<p>"They don't carry any such duffle to sea in their dunnage-bags," +snapped the skipper. "Moral suasion on them would be about like +tryin' to whittle through a turkle's shell with a hummin'-bird's +pin-feather. My rule most generally was to find one soft spot on 'em +somewhere that a marlin-spike would hurt, and then hit that spot hard +and often. That's the only way I ever got somewhere with a cargo and +got back ag'in the same year."</p> + +<p>"I suppose it has to be," sighed his wife, making a note. "It's like +killing little calves for veal, and all such things that make the +fond heart ache."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n was "leaving" the grimy pages of a log-book. He paused over +certain entries, and his face darkened. There was no more +vindictiveness in his expression. It was regret and a sort of vague +worry.</p> + +<p>"What is it, Aaron?" asked his wife, with wistful apprehensiveness.</p> + +<p>"Northin'," he growled.</p> + +<p>"But I know it's something," she insisted, "and I'm always ready to +share your burdens."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul looked around on the peace of his home, and some deep +feeling seemed to surge in his soul.</p> + +<p>"Louada Murilla," he said, sadly, "this isn't anything to be written +in the book, and I didn't ever mean to speak of it to you. But there +are times when a man jest has to talk about things, and he can't help +it. There was one thing that I've been sorry for. I've said so to +myself, and I'm goin' to say as much to you. Confession is good for +the soul, so they say, and it may help me out some to tell you."</p> + +<p>The horrified look on her face pricked him to speak further. 'Tis +a titillating sensation, sometimes, to awe or shock those whom we +love, when we know that forgiveness waits ready at hand.</p> + +<p>"There was once—there was one man—I hit him dretful hard. He was +a Portygee. But I hit him too hard. It was a case of mutiny. I reckon +I could have proved it was mutiny, with the witnesses. But I hit him +hard."</p> + +<p>"Did he—?" gasped his wife.</p> + +<p>"He did," replied the Cap'n, shortly, and was silent for a time.</p> + +<p>"The thing for me to have done," he went on, despondently, "was to +report it, and stood hearin'. But it was six weeks after we'd dropped +him overboard—after the funeral, ye know—before we reached port. +And there was a cargo ashore jest dancin' up and down to slip through +the main hatch as soon as t' other one was over the rail—and freights +'way up and owners anxious for results, and me tryin' for a record, +and all that, ye know. All is, there wa'n't nothin' said by the crew, +for they wa'n't lookin' for trouble, and knowed the circumstances, +and so I lo'ded and sailed. And that's all to date."</p> + +<p>"But they say 'murder will out.'" Her face was white.</p> + +<p>"It wa'n't murder. It was discipline. And I didn't mean to. But either +his soft spot was too soft, or else I hit too hard. What I ought to +have done was to report when my witnesses was right handy. Since I've +settled and married and got property, I've woke up in the night, +sometimes, and thought what would happen to me if that Portygee's +relatives got track of me through one of the crew standin' in with +'em—blabbin' for what he could git out of it. I have to think about +those things, now that I've got time to worry. Things looks different +ashore from what they do aflo't, with your own ship under you and +hustlin' to make money." He gazed round the room again, and seemed +to luxuriate in his repentance.</p> + +<p>"But if anything should be said, you could hunt up those men and—"</p> + +<p>"Hunt what?" the Cap'n blurted. "Hunt tarheels once they've took +their dunnage-bags over the rail? Hunt whiskers on a flea! What are +you talkin' about? Why, Louada Murilla, I never even knowed what the +Portygee's name was, except that I called him Joe. A skipper don't +lo'd his mem'ry with that sculch any more'n he'd try to find names +for the hens in the deck-coop.</p> + +<p>"I made a mistake," he continued, after a time, "in not havin' it +cleaned up, decks washed, and everything clewed snug at the time of +it. But ev'ry man makes mistakes. I made mine then. It would be +God-awful to have it come down on me when I couldn't prove nothin' +except that I give him the best funeral I could. There ain't much +of anything except grit in the gizzard of a United States court. They +seem to think the Govumment wants every one hung. I remember a captain +once who—"</p> + +<p>He paused suddenly, for he caught sight of three muddy wagons +trundling in procession into the yard. In the first one sat Constable +Zeburee Nute, his obtrusive nickel badge on his overcoat.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul looked at Louada Murilla, and she stared at him, and +in sudden panic both licked dry lips and were silent. The topic they +had been pursuing left their hearts open to terror. There are moments +when a healthy body suddenly absorbs germs of consumption that it +has hitherto thrown off in hale disregard. There are moments when +the mind and courage are overwhelmed by panic that reason does not +pause to analyze.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>VIII</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>Louada Murilla opened the front door when the chief constable knocked, +after an exasperatingly elaborate hitching and blanketing of horses. +She staggered to the door rather than walked. The Cap'n sat with rigid +legs still extended toward the fire.</p> + +<p>The three men filed into the room, and remained standing in solemn +row. Mr. Nute, on behalf of the delegation, refused chairs that were +offered by Mrs. Sproul. He had his own ideas as to how a committee +of notification should conduct business. He stood silent and looked +at Louada Murilla steadily and severely until she realized that her +absence was desired.</p> + +<p>She tottered out of the room, her terrified eyes held in lingering +thrall by the woe-stricken orbs of the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>Constable Nute eyed the door that she closed, waiting a satisfactory +lapse of time, and then cleared his throat and announced:</p> + +<p>"I want you to realize, Cap'n Sproul, that me and my feller constables +here has been put in a sort of a hard position. I hope you'll consider +that and govern yourself accordin'. First of all, we're obeyin' +orders from them as has authority. I will say, however, that I have +ideas as to how a thing ought to be handled, and my associates have +agreed to leave the talkin' to me. I want to read you somethin' +first," he said, fumbling at the buttons on his coat, "but that you +may have some notion as to what it all points and be thinkin' it over, +I'll give you a hint. To a man of your understandin', I don't s'pose +I have to say more than 'Cincinnatus,' That one word explains itself +and our errunt."</p> + +<p>"I never knowed his last name," mumbled the Cap'n, enigmatically. +"But I s'pose they've got it in the warrant, all right!" He was eying +the hand that was seeking the constable's inside pocket. "I never +was strong on Portygee names. I called him Joe."</p> + +<p>Mr. Nute merely stared, without trying to catch the drift of this +indistinct muttering.</p> + +<p>While the Cap'n watched him in an agony of impatience and suspense, +he slowly drew out a spectacle-case, settled his glasses upon his +puffy nose, unfolded a sheet of paper on which a dirty newspaper +clipping was pasted, and began to read:</p> + +<p>"More than ever before in the history of the United States of America +are loyal citizens called upon to throw themselves into the breach +of municipal affairs, and wrest from the hands of the guilty—"</p> + +<p>The ears of Cap'n Sproul, buzzing with his emotions, caught only a +few words, nor grasped any part of the meaning. But the sonorous +"United States of America" chilled his blood, and the word "guilty" +made his teeth chatter.</p> + +<p>He felt an imperious need of getting out of that room for a moment—of +getting where he could think for a little while, out from under the +starings of those three solemn men.</p> + +<p>"I want to—I want to—" he floundered; "I would like to get on my +shoes and my co't and—and—I'll be right back. I won't try to—I'll +be right back, I say."</p> + +<p>Mr. Nute suspended his reading, looked over his spectacles, and gave +the required permission. Perhaps it occurred to his official sense +that a bit more dignified attire would suit the occasion better. A +flicker of gratification shone on his face at the thought that the +Cap'n was so nobly and graciously rising to the spirit of the thing.</p> + +<p>"It's come, Louada Murilla—it's come!" gulped Cap'n Sproul, as he +staggered into the kitchen, where his wife cowered in a corner. "He's +readin' a warrant. He's even got the Portygee's name. My Gawd, +they'll hang me! I can't prove northin'."</p> + +<p>"Oh, Aaron," sobbed his wife, and continued to moan. "Oh, Aaron—" +with soft, heartbreaking cluckings.</p> + +<p>"Once the law of land-piruts gets a bight 'round ye, ye never git +away from it," groaned the Cap'n. "The law sharks is always waitin' +for seafarin' men. There ain't no hope for me."</p> + +<p>His wife had no encouragement to offer.</p> + +<p>"Murder will out, Aaron," she quaked. "And they've sent three +constables."</p> + +<p>"Them other two—be they—?"</p> + +<p>"They're constables."</p> + +<p>"There ain't no hope. And it shows how desp'rit' they think I be. +It shows they're bound to have me. It's life and death, Louada Murilla. +If I don't git anything but State Prison, it's goin' to kill me, for +I've lived too free and open to be penned up at my time o' life. It +ain't fair—it ain't noways fair!" His voice broke. "It was all a +matter of discipline. But you can't prove it to land-sharks. If they +git me into their clutches I'm a goner."</p> + +<p>His pistols hung on the wall where Louada Murilla had suspended them, +draped with the ribbons of peace.</p> + +<p>"There's only one thing to do," he whispered, huskily, pointing at +the weapons with quivering finger. "I'll shoot 'em in the legs, jest +to hold 'em up. I'll git to salt water. I know skippers that will +take me aboard, even if they have to stand off the whole United States. +I've got friends, Louada, as soon as I git to tide-water. It won't +hurt 'em in there—a bullet in the leg. And it's life and death for +me. There's foreign countries where they can't take me up. I know +'em, I've been there. And I'll send for you, Louada Murilla. It's +the best I can think of now. It ain't what I should choose, but it's +the best I can think of. I've had short notice. I can't let 'em take +me."</p> + +<p>As he talked he seemed to derive some comfort from action. He pulled +on his boots. He wriggled into his coat. From a pewter pitcher high +up on a dresser shelf he secured a fat wallet. But when he rushed +to take down the pistols his wife threw herself into his arms.</p> + +<p>"You sha'n't do that, Aaron," she cried. "I'll go to State Prison +with you—I'll go to the ends of the world to meet you. But I couldn't +have those old men shot in our own house. I realize you've got to +get away. But blood will never wash out blood. Take one of their teams. +Run the horse to the railroad-station. It's only four miles, and +you've got a half-hour before the down-train. And I'll lock 'em into +the setting-room, Aaron, and keep 'em as long as I can. And I'll come +to you, Aaron, though I have to follow you clear around the world."</p> + +<p>In the last, desperate straits of an emergency, many a woman's wits +ring truer than a man's. When she had kissed him and departed on her +errand to lock the front door he realized that her counsel was good.</p> + +<p>He left the pistols on the wall. As he ran into the yard, he got a +glimpse, through the sitting-room window, of the constables standing +in solemn row. Never were innocent members of committee of +notification more blissfully unconscious of what they had escaped. +They were blandly gazing at the Cap'n's curios ranged on mantel and +what-not.</p> + +<p>It was a snort from Constable Swanton that gave the alarm. Mr. Nute's +team was spinning away down the road, the wagon-wheels throwing slush +with a sort of fireworks effect. Cap'n Sproul, like most sailors, +was not a skilful driver, but he was an energetic one. The horse was +galloping.</p> + +<p>"He's bound for the town house before he's been notified officially," +stammered Mr. Swanton.</p> + +<p>"It ain't regular," said Constable Wade.</p> + +<p>Mr. Nute made no remark. He looked puzzled, but he acted promptly. +He found the front door locked and the kitchen door locked. But the +window-catches were on the inside, and he slammed up the nearest sash +and leaped out. The others followed. The pursuit was on as soon as +they could get to their wagons, Mr. Wade riding with the chief +constable.</p> + +<p>The town house of Smyrna is on the main road leading to the +railway-station. The constables, topping a hill an eighth of a mile +behind the fugitive, expected to see him turn in at the town house. +But he tore past, his horse still on the run, the wagon swaying wildly +as he turned the corner beyond the Merrithew sugar orchard.</p> + +<p>"Well, I swow," grunted Mr. Nute, and licked on.</p> + +<p>The usual crowd of horse-swappers was gathered in the town-house yard, +and beheld this tumultuous passage with professional interest. And, +recognizing the first selectman-elect of Smyrna, their interest had +an added flavor.</p> + +<p>Next came the two teams containing the constables, lashing past on +the run. They paid no attention to the amazed yells of inquiry from +the horse-swappers, and disappeared behind the sugar orchard.</p> + +<p>"You've got me!" said Uncle Silas Drake to the first out-rush of the +curious from the town house. In his amazement, Uncle Silas was still +holding to the patient nose of the horse whose teeth he had been +examining. "They went past like soft-soap slidin' down the suller +stairs, and that's as fur's I'm knowin'. But I want to remark, as +my personal opinion, that a first seeleckman of this town ought to +be 'tendin' to his duties made and pervided, instead of razooin' +hosses up and down in front of this house when town meetin' is goin' +on."</p> + +<p>One by one, voters, mumbling their amazement, unhitched their horses +and started along the highway in the direction the fugitives had +taken. It seemed to all that this case required to be investigated. +The procession whipped along briskly and noisily.</p> + +<p>Colonel Gideon Ward, returning from the railroad-station, where he +had been to order flat-cars for lumber, heard the distant clamor of +voices, and stood up in his tall cart to listen. At that instant, +around the bend of the road, twenty feet away, came a horse galloping +wildly. Colonel Ward was halted squarely in the middle of the way. +He caught an amazed glimpse of Cap'n Sproul trying to rein to one +side with unskilled hands, and then the wagons met. Colonel Ward's +wagon stood like a rock. The lighter vehicle, locking wheels, went +down with a crash, and Cap'n Sproul shot head-on over the dasher into +his brother-in-law's lap, as he crouched on his seat.</p> + +<p>The advantage was with Cap'n Sproul, for the Colonel was underneath. +Furthermore, Cap'n Sproul was thrice armed with the resolution of +a desperate man. Without an instant's hesitation he drew back, hit +Ward a few resounding buffets on either side of his head, and then +tossed the dizzied man out of his wagon into the roadside slush. An +instant later he had the reins, swung the frightened horse across +the gutter and around into the road, and continued his flight in the +direction of the railroad-station.</p> + +<p>The constables, leading the pursuing voters by a few lengths, found +Colonel Ward sitting up in the ditch and gaping in utter amazement +and dire wrath at the turn of the road where Cap'n Sproul had swept +out of sight.</p> + +<p>The wreck of the wagon halted them.</p> + +<p>"I s'pose you've jest seen our first selectman-elect pass this way, +haven't ye?" inquired Mr. Nute, with official conservatism.</p> + +<p>The Colonel had not yet regained his powers of speech. He jabbed with +bony finger in the direction of the railroad, and moved his jaws +voicelessly. Mr. Swanton descended from the wagon, helped him out +of the ditch, and began to stroke the slush from his garments with +mittened hand. As he still continued to gasp ineffectually, Mr. Nute +drove on, leaving him standing by the roadside.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul was at bay on the station platform, feet braced +defiantly apart, hat on the back of his head, and desperate resolve +flaming from his eyes.</p> + +<p>"Don't ye git out of your wagon, Nute," he rasped. "It's been touch +and go once with the three of ye to-day. I could have killed ye like +sheep. Don't git in my way ag'in. Take warnin'! It's life or death, +and a few more don't make much difference to me now."</p> + +<p>The chief constable stared at him with bulging eyes.</p> + +<p>"I could have killed ye and I didn't," repeated the Cap'n. "Let that +show ye that I'm square till I have to be otherwise. But I'm a +desp'rit' man, Nute. I'm goin' to take that train." He brandished +his fist at a trail of smoke up behind the spruces. "Gawd pity the +man that gits in my way!"</p> + +<p>"Somethin' has happened to his mind all of a sudden," whispered Mr. +Wade. "He ought to be took care of till he gits over it. It would +be a pity and a shame to let a prominent man like that git away and +fall into the hands of strangers."</p> + +<p>"All of ye take warnin'," bawled the Cap'n to his townsmen, who were +crowding their wagons into the station square.</p> + +<p>Constable Zeburee Nute drove his whip into the socket, threw down +his reins, and stood up. The hollow hoot of the locomotive had sounded +up the track.</p> + +<p>"Feller citizens," he cried, "as chairman of the committee of +notification, I desire to report that I have 'tended to my duties +in so far as I could to date. But there has things happened that I +can't figger out, and for which I ain't responsible. There ain't no +time now for ifs, buts, or ands. That train is too near. A certain +prominunt citizen that I don't need to name is thinkin' of takin' +that train when he ain't fit to do so. There'll be time to talk it +over afterward."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul was backing away to turn the corner of the station.</p> + +<p>"I call on all of ye as a posse," bawled Mr. Nute. "Bring along your +halters and don't use no vi'lence."</p> + +<p>Samson himself, even though his weapon had been the jaw-bone of a +megatherium, couldn't have resisted that onrush of the willing +populace. In five minutes, the Cap'n, trussed hand and foot, and +crowded in between Constables Nute and Wade, was riding back toward +Smyrna town house, helpless as a veal calf bound for market.</p> + +<p>"Now," resumed Mr. Nute, calmly, "now that you're with us, Cap'n, +and seem to be quieted down a little, I'll perceed to execute the +errunt put upon me as chairman of the notification committee."</p> + +<p>With Mr. Wade driving slowly, he read the newspaper clipping that +sounded the clarion call that summoned men of probity to public +office, and at the close formally notified Cap'n Sproul that he had +been elected first selectman of Smyrna. He did all this without +enthusiasm, and sighed with official relief when it was over.</p> + +<p>"And," he wound up, "it is the sentiment of this town that there ain't +another man in it so well qualified to lead us up out of the valley +of darkness where we've been wallerin'. We have called our +Cincinnatus to his duty."</p> + +<p>They had come around a bend of the road and now faced Colonel Ward, +stumping along stolidly through the slush, following the trail of +his team.</p> + +<p>"That's the way he ought to be," roared the Colonel. "Rope him up! +Put ox-chains on him. And I'll give a thousand dollars to build an +iron cage for him. You're all crazy and he's your head lunatic."</p> + +<p>Mr. Nute, inwardly, during all the time that he had been so calmly +addressing his captive, was tortured with cruel doubts as to the +Cap'n's sanity. But he believed in discharging his duty first. And +he remembered that insane people were more easily prevailed upon by +those who appeared to make no account of their whims.</p> + +<p>During it all, Cap'n Sproul had been silent in utter amazement. The +truth had come in a blinding flash that would have unsettled a man +not so well trained to control emotion.</p> + +<p>"Drive along," he curtly commanded Nute, paying no heed to the +incensed Colonel's railings. "You look me in the eye," he continued, +as soon as they were out of hearing. "Do you see any signs that I +am out of my head, or that I need these ropes on me?"</p> + +<p>"I can't say as I do," admitted the constable, after he had quailed +a bit under the keen, straightforward stare of the ex-mariner's hard, +gray eyes.</p> + +<p>"Take 'em off, then," directed the Cap'n, in tones of authority. And +when it was done, he straightened his hat, set back his shoulders, +and said:</p> + +<p>"Drive me to the town house where I was bound when that hoss of yours +run away with me." Mr. Nute stared at him wildly, and drove on.</p> + +<p>They were nearly to their destination before Constable Nute ventured +upon what his twisted brow and working lips testified he had been +pondering long.</p> + +<p>"It ain't that I'm tryin' to pry into your business, Cap'n Sproul, +nor anything of the kind, but, bein' a man that never intended to +do any harm to any one, I can't figger out what grudge you've got +against me. You said on the station platform that—"</p> + +<p>"Nute," said the Cap'n, briskly, "as I understand it, you never went +to sea, and you and the folks round here don't understand much about +sailormen, hey?"</p> + +<p>The constable shook his head.</p> + +<p>"Then don't try to find out much about 'em. You wouldn't understand. +The folks round here wouldn't understand. We have our ways. You have +your ways. Some of the things you do and some of the things you say +could be called names by me, providin' I wanted to be disagreeable +and pick flaws. All men in this world are different—especially +sailormen from them that have always lived inshore. We've got to take +our feller man as we find him."</p> + +<p>They were in the town-house yard—a long procession of teams +following.</p> + +<p>"And by-the-way, Nute," bawled the Cap'n, from the steps of the +building as he was going in, using his best sea tones so that all +might hear, "it was the fault of your horse that he run away, and +you ought to be prosecuted for leavin' such an animile 'round where +a sailorman that ain't used to hosses could get holt of him. But I'm +always liberal about other folks' faults. Bring in your bill for the +wagon."</p> + +<p>Setting his teeth hard, he walked upon the platform of the town-hall, +and faced the voters with such an air of authority and such +self-possession that they cheered him lustily. And then, with an +intrepidity that filled his secret heart with amazement as he talked, +he made the first real speech of his life—a speech of acceptance.</p> + +<p>"Yes, s'r, it was a speech, Louada Murilla," he declared that evening, +as he sat again in their sitting-room with his stockinged feet to +the blaze of the Franklin. "I walked that platform like it was a +quarter-deck, and my line of talk run jest as free as a britches-buoy +coil. And when I got done, they was up on the settees howlin' for +me. If any man came back into that town-house thinkin' I was a lunatic +on account of what happened to-day, they got a diff'runt notion +before I got done. Why, they all come 'round and shook my hand, and +said they must have been crazy to tackle a prominunt citizen that +way on the word of old Nute. It must have been a great speech I made. +They all said so."</p> + +<p>He relighted his pipe.</p> + +<p>"What did you say, Aaron?" eagerly asked his wife. "Repeat it over."</p> + +<p>He smoked awhile.</p> + +<p>"Louada Murilla," he said, "when I walked onto that platform my heart +was goin' like a donkey-engine workin' a winch, there was a +sixty-mile gale blowin' past my ears, and a fog-bank was front of +my eyes. And when the sun came out ag'in and it cleared off, the +moderator was standin' there shaking my hand and tellin' me what a +speech it was. It was a speech that had to be made. They had to be +bluffed. But as to knowin' a word of what I said, why, I might jest +as well try to tell you what the mermaid said when the feller brought +her stockin's for her birthday present.</p> + +<p>"The only thing that I can remember about that speech," he resumed, +after a pause, and she gazed on him hopefully, "is that your brother +Gideon busted into the town house and tried to break up my speech +by tellin' 'em I was a lunatic. I ordered the constables to put him +out."</p> + +<p>"Did they?" she asked, with solicitude.</p> + +<p>"No," he replied, rubbing his nose, reflectively. "'Fore the +constables got to him, the boys took holt and throwed him out of the +window. I reckon he's come to a realizin' sense by this time that +the town don't want him for selectman."</p> + +<p>He rapped out the ashes and put the pipe on the hearth of the Franklin.</p> + +<p>"I'm fair about an enemy, Louada Murilla, and I kind of hate to rub +it into Gideon. But now that I'm on this bluff about what happened +to-day, I've got to work it to a finish. I'm goin' to sue Gid for +obstructin' the ro'd and smashin' Nute's wagon, and then jumpin' out +and leavin' me to be run away with. The idea is, there are some fine +touches needed in lyin' out of that part of the scrape, and, as the +first selectman of Smyrna, I can't afford to take chances and depend +on myself, and be showed up. I don't hold any A.B. certificate when +it comes to lyin'. So for them fancy touches, I reckon I'll have to +break my usual rule and hire a lawyer."</p> + +<p>He rose and yawned.</p> + +<p>"Is the cat put out, Louada?"</p> + +<p>And when she had replied in the affirmative, he said:</p> + +<p>"Seein' it has been quite a busy day, let's go to bed."</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>IX</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>Mrs. Hiram Look, lately "Widder Snell," appearing as plump, radiant, +and roseate as a bride in her honeymoon should appear—her color +assisted by the caloric of a cook-stove in June—put her head out +of the buttery window and informed the inquiring Cap'n Aaron Sproul +that Hiram was out behind the barn.</p> + +<p>"Married life seems still to be agreein' with all concerned," +suggested Cap'n Sproul, quizzically. "Even that flour on your nose +is becomin'."</p> + +<p>"Go 'long, you old rat!" tittered Mrs. Look. "Better save all your +compliments for your own wife!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I tell her sweeter things than that," replied the Cap'n, +serenely. With a grin under his beard, he went on toward the barn.</p> + +<p>Smyrna gossips were beginning to comment, with more or less spite, +on the sudden friendship between their first selectman and Hiram Look, +since Look—once owner of a road circus—had retired from the road, +had married his old love, and had settled down on the Snell farm. +Considering the fact that the selectman and showman had bristled at +each other like game-cocks the first time they met, Smyrna wondered +at the sudden effusion of affection that now kept them trotting back +and forth on almost daily visits to each other.</p> + +<p>Batson Reeves, second selectman of Smyrna, understood better than +most of the others. It was on him as a common anvil that the two of +them had pounded their mutual spite cool. Hiram, suddenly +reappearing with a plug hat and a pet elephant, after twenty years +of wandering, had won promptly the hand of Widow Snell, <i>nee</i> Amanda +Purkis, whose self and whose acres Widower Reeves was just ready to +annex. And Hiram had thereby partially satisfied the old boyhood +grudge planted deep in his stormy temper when Batson Reeves had +broken up the early attachment between Hiram Look and Amanda Purkis. +As for First Selectman Sproul, hot in his fight with Reeves for +official supremacy, his league with Hiram, after an initial combat +to try spurs, was instant and cordial as soon as he had understood +a few things about the showman's character and purpose.</p> + +<p>"Birds of a feather!" gritted Reeves, in his confidences with his +intimates. "An' old turkle-back of a sea-capt'in runnin' things in +this town 'fore he's been here two years, jest 'cause he's got cheek +enough and thutty thousand dollars—and now comes that old gas-bag +with a plug hat on it, braggin' of his own thutty thousand dollars, +and they hitch up! Gawd help Smyrna, that's all I say!"</p> + +<p>And yet, had all the spiteful eyes in Smyrna peered around the corner +of the barn on that serene June forenoon, they must have softened +just a bit at sight of the placid peace of it all.</p> + +<p>The big doors were rolled back, and "Imogene," the ancient elephant +whose fond attachment to Hiram had preserved her from the +auction-block, bent her wrinkled front to the soothing sunshine and +"weaved" contentedly on her slouchy legs. She was watching her master +with the thorough appreciation of one who has understood and loved +the "sportin' life."</p> + +<p>Hiram was in shirt-sleeves and bareheaded, his stringy hair combed +over his bald spot. His long-tailed coat and plug hat hung from a +wooden peg on the side of the barn. In front of him was a loose square +of burlap, pegged to the ground at one edge, its opposite edge nailed +to the barn, and sloping at an angle of forty-five degrees.</p> + +<p>As Cap'n Sproul rounded the corner Hiram had just tossed a rooster +in the air over the burlap. The bird came down flapping its wings; +its legs stuck out stiffly. When it struck the rude net it bounded +high, and came down again, and continued its grotesque hornpipe until +it finally lost its spring.</p> + +<p>"I'm only givin' P.T. Barnum his leg-exercise," said Hiram, +recovering the rooster and sticking him under one arm while he shook +hands with his caller. "I don't expect to ever match him again in +this God-forsaken country, but there's some comfort in keepin' him +in trainin'. Pinch them thighs, Cap'n! Ain't they the wickin'?"</p> + +<p>"I sh'd hate to try to eat 'em," said the Cap'n, gingerly poking his +stubby finger against the rooster's leg.</p> + +<p>"Eat 'em!" snapped the showman, raking the horns of his long mustache +irritably away from his mouth. "You talk like the rest of these +farmers round here that never heard of a hen bein' good for anything +except to lay eggs and be et for a Thanksgivin' dinner." He held the +rooster a-straddle his arm, his broad hand on its back, and shook +him under the Cap'n's nose. "I've earnt more'n a thousand dollars +with P.T.—and that's a profit in the hen business that all the +condition powders this side of Tophet couldn't fetch."</p> + +<p>"A thousand dollars!" echoed Cap'n Sproul, stuffing his pipe. He +gazed at P.T. with new interest. "He must have done some fightin' +in his day."</p> + +<p>"Fight!" cried the showman. He tossed the rooster upon the burlap +once more. "Fight! Look at that leg action! That's the best +yaller-legged, high-station game-cock that ever pecked his way out +of a shell. I've taken all comers 'twixt Hoorah and Hackenny, and +he ain't let me down yet. Look at them brad-awls of his!"</p> + +<p>"Mebbe all so, but I don't like hens, not for a minit," growled the +first selectman, squinting sourly through his tobacco-smoke at the +dancing fowl.</p> + +<p>Hiram got a saucer from a shelf inside the barn and set it on the +ground.</p> + +<p>"Eat your chopped liver, P.T.," he commanded; "trainin' is over."</p> + +<p>He relighted his stub of cigar and bent proud gaze on the bird.</p> + +<p>"No, sir," pursued the Cap'n, "I ain't got no use for a hen unless +it's settin', legs up, on a platter, and me with a carvin'-knife."</p> + +<p>"Always felt that way?" inquired Hiram.</p> + +<p>"Not so much as I have sence I've been tryin' to start my garden this +spring. As fur back as the time I was gittin' the seed in, them hens +of Widder Sidene Pike, that lives next farm to mine, began their +hellishness, with that old wart-legged ostrich of a rooster of her'n +to lead 'em. They'd almost peck the seeds out of my hand, and the +minit I'd turn my back they was over into that patch, right foot, +left foot, kick heel and toe, and swing to pardners—and you couldn't +see the sun for dirt. And at every rake that rooster lifts soil enough +to fill a stevedore's coal-bucket."</p> + +<p>"Why don't you shoot 'em?" advised Hiram, calmly.</p> + +<p>"Me—the first s'lectman of this town out poppin' off a widder's +hens? That would be a nice soundin' case when it got into court, +wouldn't it?"</p> + +<p>"Get into court first and sue her," advised the militant Hiram.</p> + +<p>"I donno as I've ever said it to you, but I've al'ays said it to close +friends," stated the Cap'n, earnestly, "that there are only three +things on earth I'm afraid of, and them are: pneumony, bein' struck +by lightnin', and havin' a land-shark git the law on me. There ain't +us'ly no help for ye."</p> + +<p>He sighed and smoked reflectively. Then his face hardened.</p> + +<p>"There's grown to be more to it lately than the hen end. Have you +heard that sence Bat Reeves got let down by she that was Widder +Snell"—he nodded toward the house—"he has been sort of caught on +the bounce, as ye might say, by the Widder Pike? Well, bein' her close +neighbor, I know it's so. And, furdermore, the widder's told my wife, +bein' so tickled over ketchin' him that she couldn't hold it to +herself. Now, for the last week, every time that old red-gilled +dirt-walloper has led them hens into my garden, I've caught Bat +Reeves peekin' around the corner of the widder's house watchin' 'em. +If there's any such thing as a man bein' able to talk human language +to a rooster, and put sin and Satan into him, Reeves is doin' it. +But what's the good of my goin' and lickin' him? It'll mean law. +That's what he's lookin' for—and him with that old gandershanked +lawyer for a brother! See what they done to you!"</p> + +<p>Hiram's eyes grew hard, and he muttered irefully. For cuffing Batson +Reeves off the Widow Snell's door-step he had paid a fat fine, +assessed for the benefit of the assaulted, along with liberal costs +allowed to Squire Alcander Reeves.</p> + +<p>"They can't get any of my money that way," pursued the Cap'n. "I'd +pay suthin' for the privilege of drawin' and quarterin' him, but a +plain lickin' ain't much object. A lickin' does him good."</p> + +<p>"And it's so much ready money for that skunk," added the showman. +He cocked his head to one side to avoid his cigar smoke, and stared +down on P.T. pecking the last scraps of raw liver from the saucer.</p> + +<p>"I understand you to say, do I," resumed Hiram, "that he is shooing +them hens—or, at least, condonin' their comin' down into your garden +ev'ry day?"</p> + +<p>"I run full half a mile jest before I came acrost to see you, chasin' +'em out," said the Cap'n, gloomily, "and I'll bet they was back in +there before I got to the first bars on my way over here."</p> + +<p>P.T., feeling the stimulus of the liver, crooked his neck and crowed +spiritedly. Then he scratched the side of his head with one toe, shook +himself, and squatted down contentedly in the sun.</p> + +<p>"In the show business," said Hiram, "when I found a feller with a +game that I could play better 'n him, I was always willin' to play +his game." He stuck up his hand with the fingers spread like a fan, +and began to check items. "A gun won't do, because it's a widder's +hens; a fight won't do, because it's Bat Reeves; law won't do, because +he's got old heron-legged Alcander right in his family. Now this +thing is gittin' onto your sperits, and I can see it!"</p> + +<p>"It is heiferin' me bad," admitted the Cap'n. "It ain't so much the +hens—though Gawd knows I hate a hen bad enough—but it's Bat Reeves +standin' up there grinnin' and watchin' me play tag-you're-it with +Old Scuff-and-kick and them female friends of his. For a man that's +dreamed of garden-truck jest as he wants it, and never had veg'tables +enough in twenty years of sloshin' round the world on shipboard, it's +about the most cussed, aggravatin' thing I ever got against. And +there I am! Swear and chase—and northin' comin' of it!"</p> + +<p>Hiram clenched his cigar more firmly in his teeth, leaned over +carefully, and picked up the recumbent P.T.</p> + +<p>He tucked the rooster under his arm and started off.</p> + +<p>"Let's go 'crost back lots," he advised. "What people don't see and +don't know about won't hurt 'em, and that includes your wife and mine.</p> + +<p>"It won't be no kind of a hen-fight, you understand," Hiram chatted +as they walked, "'cause that compost-heap scratcher won't last so +long as old Brown stayed in heaven. For P.T., here, it will be jest +bristle, shuffle, one, two—brad through each eye, +and—'Cock-a-doodle-doo!' All over! But it will give you a chance +to see some of his leg-work, and a touch or two of his fancy +spurrin'—and then you can take old Sculch-scratcher by the legs and +hold him up and inform Bat Reeves that he can come and claim property. +It's his own game—and we're playin' it! There ain't any chance for +law where one rooster comes over into another rooster's yard and gets +done up. Moral: Keep roosters in where the lightnin' won't strike +'em."</p> + +<p>When they topped Hickory Hill they had a survey of Cap'n Sproul's +acres. Here and there on the brown mould of his garden behind the +big barn were scattered yellow and gray specks.</p> + +<p>"There they be, blast 'em to fury!" growled the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>His eyes then wandered farther, as though seeking something familiar, +and he clutched the showman's arm as they walked along.</p> + +<p>"And there's Bat Reeves's gray hoss hitched in the widder's +dooryard."</p> + +<p>"Mebbe he'll wait and have fricasseed rooster for dinner," suggested +Hiram, grimly. "That's all his rooster'll be good for in fifteen +minutes."</p> + +<p>"It would be the devil and repeat for us if the widder's rooster +should lick—and Bat Reeves standin' and lookin' on," suggested the +Cap'n, bodingly.</p> + +<p>Hiram stopped short, looked this faltering faint-heart all over from +head to heel with withering scorn, and demanded: "Ain't you got +sportin' blood enough to know the difference between a high-station +game-cock and that old bow-legged Mormon down there scratchin' your +garden-seeds?"</p> + +<p>"Well," replied the Cap'n, rather surlily, "I ain't to blame for what +I don't know about, and I don't know about hens, and I don't want +to know. But I do know that he's more'n twice as big as your rooster, +and he's had exercise enough in my garden this spring to be more'n +twice as strong. All is, don't lay it to me not warnin' you, if you +lose your thousand-dollar hen!"</p> + +<p>"Don't you wear your voice out tryin' to tell me about my business +in the hen-fightin' line," snapped the showman, fondly "huggling" +P.T. more closely under his arm. "This is where size don't count. +It's skill. There won't be enough to call it a scrap."</p> + +<p>They made a detour through the Sproul orchard to avoid possible +observation by Louada Murilla, the Cap'n's wife, and by so doing +showed themselves plainly to any one who might be looking that way +from the widow's premises. This was a part of the showman's plan. +He hoped to attract Reeves's attention. He did. They saw him peering +under his palm from the shed door, evidently suspecting that this +combination of his two chief foes meant something sinister. He came +out of the shed and walked down toward the fence when he saw them +headed for the garden.</p> + +<p>"Watchin' out for evidence in a law case, probably," growled Cap'n +Sproul, the fear of onshore artfulness ever with him. "He'd ruther +law it any time than have a fair fight, man to man, and that's the +kind of a critter I hate."</p> + +<p>"The widder's lookin' out of the kitchen winder," Hiram announced, +"and I'm encouraged to think that mebbe he'll want to shine a little +as her protector, and will come over into the garden to save her hen. +Then will be your time. He'll be trespassin', and I'll be your witness. +Go ahead and baste the stuffin' out of him."</p> + +<p>He squatted down at the edge of the garden-patch, holding the +impatient P.T. between his hands.</p> + +<p>"Usually in a reg'lar match I scruffle his feathers and blow in his +eye, Cap'n, but I won't have to do it this time. It's too easy a +proposition. I'm jest tellin' you about it so that if you ever git +interested in fightin' hens after this, you'll be thankful to me for +a pointer or two."</p> + +<p>"I won't begin to take lessons yet a while," the Cap'n grunted. "It +ain't in my line."</p> + +<p>Hiram tossed his feathered gladiator out upon the garden mould.</p> + +<p>"S-s-s-s-! Eat him up, boy!" he commanded.</p> + +<p>P.T. had his eye on the foe, but, with the true instinct of sporting +blood, he would take no unfair advantage by stealthy advance on the +preoccupied scratcher. He straddled, shook out his glossy ruff, and +crowed shrilly.</p> + +<p>The other rooster straightened up from his agricultural labors, and +stared at this lone intruder on his family privacy. He was a tall, +rakish-looking fowl, whose erect carriage and lack of tail-feathers +made him look like a spindle-shanked urchin as he towered there among +the busy hens.</p> + +<p>In order that there might be no mistake as to his belligerent +intentions, P.T. crowed again.</p> + +<p>The other replied with a sort of croupy hoarseness.</p> + +<p>"Sounds like he was full to the neck with your garden-seeds," +commented Hiram. "Well, he won't ever eat no more, and that's +something to be thankful for."</p> + +<p>The game-cock, apparently having understood the word to come on, +tiptoed briskly across the garden. The other waited his approach, +craning his long neck and twisting his head from side to side.</p> + +<p>Reeves was now at the fence.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet ye ten dollars," shouted Hiram, "that down goes your hen +the first shuffle."</p> + +<p>"You will, hey?" bawled Reeves, sarcastically. "Say, you didn't +bring them three shells and rubber pea that you used to make your +livin' with, did ye?"</p> + +<p>The old showman gasped, and his face grew purple. "I licked him twenty +years ago for startin' that lie about me," he said, bending blazing +glance on the Cap'n. "Damn the expense! I'm goin' over there and kill +him!"</p> + +<p>"Wait till your rooster kills his, and then take the remains and bat +his brains out with 'em," advised the Cap'n, swelling with equal +wrath. "Look! He's gettin' at him!"</p> + +<p>P.T. put his head close to the ground, his ring of neck-feathers +glistening in the sun, then darted forward, rising in air as he did +so. The other rooster, who had been awaiting his approach, stiffly +erect, ducked to one side, and the game-cock went hurtling past.</p> + +<p>"Like rooster, like master!" Hiram yelled, savagely. "He's a coward. +Why don't he run and git your brother, Alcander, to put P.T. under +bonds to keep the peace? Yah-h-h-h! You're all cowards."</p> + +<p>The game-cock, accustomed to meet the bravery of true champions of +the pit, stood for a little while and stared at this shifty foe. He +must have decided that he was dealing with a poltroon with whom +science and prudence were not needed. He stuck out his neck and ran +at Long-legs, evidently expecting that Long-legs would turn and flee +in a panic. Long-legs jumped to let him pass under, and came down +on the unwary P.T. with the crushing force of his double bulk. The +splay feet flattened the game-cock to the ground, and, while he lay +there helpless, this victor-by-a-fluke began to peck and tear at his +head and comb in a most brutal and unsportsmanlike manner.</p> + +<p>With a hoarse howl of rage and concern, Hiram rushed across the garden, +the dirt flying behind him. The hens squawked and fled, and the +conqueror, giving one startled look at the approaching vengeance, +abandoned his victim, and closed the line of retreat over the fence.</p> + +<p>"He didn't git at his eyes," shouted Hiram, grabbing up his champion +from the dirt, "but"—making hasty survey of the bleeding head—"but +the jeebingoed cannibal has et one gill and pretty near pecked his +comb off. It wa'n't square! It wa'n't square!" he bellowed, advancing +toward the fence where Reeves was leaning. "Ye tried to kill a +thousand-dollar bird by a skin-game, and I'll have it out of your +hide."</p> + +<p>Reeves pulled a pole out of the fence.</p> + +<p>"Don't ye come across here," he gritted. "I'll brain ye! It was your +own rooster-fight. You put it up. You got licked. What's the matter +with you?" A grin of pure satisfaction curled under his beard.</p> + +<p>"You never heard of true sport. You don't know what it means. He stood +on him and started to eat him. All he thinks of is eatin' up something. +It wa'n't fair." Hiram caressed the bleeding head of P.T. with +quivering hand.</p> + +<p>"Fair!" sneered Reeves. "You're talkin' as though this was a +prize-fight for the championship of the world! My—I mean, Mis' +Pike's rooster licked, didn't he? Well, when a rooster's licked, he's +licked, and there ain't nothin' more to it."</p> + +<p>"That's your idee of sport, is it?" demanded Hiram, stooping to wipe +his bloody hand on the grass.</p> + +<p>"It's my idee of a rooster-fight," retorted Reeves. In his triumph +he was not unwilling to banter repartee with the hateful Hiram. "You +fellers with what you call sportin' blood"—he sneered the +words—"come along and think nobody else can't do anything right but +you. You fetch along cat-meat with feathers on it"—he pointed at +the vanquished P.T.—"and expect it to stand any show with a real +fighter." Now he pointed to the Widow Pike's rooster sauntering away +with his harem about him. "He ain't rid' around with a circus nor +followed the sportin' life, and he's al'ays lived in the country and +minded his own business, but he's good for a whole crateful of your +sportin' blooders—and so long as he licks, it don't make no +difference how he does it."</p> + +<p>The personal reference in this little speech was too plain for Hiram +to disregard.</p> + +<p>His hard eyes narrowed, and hatred of this insolent countryman blazed +there. The countryman glared back with just as fierce bitterness.</p> + +<p>"Mebbe you've got money to back your opinion of Widder Pike's hen +there?" suggested the showman. "Money's the only thing that seems +to interest you, and you don't seem to care how you make it."</p> + +<p>Reeves glanced from the maimed P.T., gasping on Hiram's arm, to the +victorious champion who had defeated this redoubtable bird so easily. +His Yankee shrewdness told him that the showman had undoubtedly +produced his best for this conflict; his Yankee cupidity hinted that +by taking advantage of Hiram's present flustered state of mind he +might turn a dollar. He glanced from Hiram to Cap'n Sproul, standing +at one side, and said with careless superiority:</p> + +<p>"Make your talk!"</p> + +<p>"I've got five hundred that says I've got the best hen."</p> + +<p>"There ain't goin' to be no foolishness about rules and sport, and +hitchin' and hawin', is there? It's jest hen that counts!"</p> + +<p>"Jest hen!" Hiram set his teeth hard.</p> + +<p>"Five hundred it is," agreed Reeves. "But I need a fortni't to collect +in some that's due me. Farmin' ain't such ready-money as the circus +bus'ness."</p> + +<p>"Take your fortni't! And we'll settle place later. And that's all, +'cause it makes me sick to stand anywhere within ten feet of you."</p> + +<p>Hiram strode away across the fields, his wounded gladiator on his +arm.</p> + +<p>And, as it was near dinner-time, Cap'n Sproul trudged into his own +house, his mien thoughtful and his air subdued.</p> + +<p>On his next visit to Hiram, the Cap'n didn't know which was the most +preoccupied—the showman sitting in the barn door at Imogene's feet, +or the battered P.T. propped disconsolately on one leg. Both were +gazing at the ground with far-away stare, and Hiram was not much more +conversational than the rooster.</p> + +<p>The next day Hiram drove into the Sproul dooryard and called out the +Cap'n, refusing to get out of his wagon.</p> + +<p>"I shall be away a few days—mebbe more, mebbe less. I leave time +and place to you." And he slashed at his horse and drove away.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>X</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>It was certainly a queer place that Cap'n Sproul decided upon after +several days of rumination. His own abstraction during that time, +and the unexplained absence of Hiram, the bridegroom of a month, an +absence that was prolonged into a week, caused secret tears and +apprehensive imaginings in both households.</p> + +<p>Hiram came back, mysterious as the Sphinx.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul arranged for a secret meeting of the principals behind +his barn, and announced his decision as to place.</p> + +<p>"The poor-farm!" both snorted in unison. "What—"</p> + +<p>"Hold right on!" interrupted the Cap'n, holding up his broad palms; +"it can't be in <i>his</i> barn on account of his wife; it can't be in +<i>my</i> barn on account of my wife. Both of 'em are all wrought up and +suspectin' somethin'. Some old pick-ed nose in this place is bound +to see us if we try to sneak away into the woods. Jim Wixon, the +poor-farm keeper, holds his job through me. He's square, straight, +and minds his own business. I can depend on him. He'll hold the stakes. +There ain't another man in town we can trust. There ain't a place +as safe as the poor-farm barn. Folks don't go hangin' round a +poor-farm unless they have to. It's for there the ev'nin' before the +Fourth. Agree, or count me out. The first selectman of this town can't +afford to take too many chances, aidin' and abettin' a hen-fight."</p> + +<p>Therefore there was nothing else for it. The principals accepted +sullenly, and went their ways.</p> + +<p>The taciturnity of Hiram Look was such during the few days before +the meeting that Cap'n Sproul regretfully concluded to keep to his +own hearthstone. Hiram seemed to be nursing a secret. The Cap'n felt +hurt, and admitted as much to himself in his musings.</p> + +<p>He went alone to the rendezvous at early dusk. Keeper Wixon, of the +poor-farm, had the big floor of the barn nicely swept, had hung +lanterns about on the wooden harness-pegs, and was in a state of great +excitement and impatience.</p> + +<p>Second Selectman Reeves came first, lugging his crate from his +beach-wagon. The crate held the Widow Pike's rooster. His nomination +had his head up between the slats, and was crowing regularly and +raucously.</p> + +<p>"Choke that dam fog-horn off!" commanded the Cap'n. "What are ye +tryin' to do, advertise this sociable?"</p> + +<p>"You talk like I was doin' that crowin' myself," returned Reeves, +sulkily. "And nobody ain't goin' to squat his wizen and git him out +of breath. Hands off, and a fair show!"</p> + +<p>Hiram Look was no laggard at the meeting. He rumbled into the yard +on the box of one of his animal cages, pulled out a huge bag containing +something that kicked and wriggled, and deposited his burden on the +barn floor.</p> + +<p>"Now," said he, brusquely, "business before pleasure! You've got the +stakes, eh, Wixon?"</p> + +<p>"In my wallet here—a thousand dollars," replied the keeper, a little +catch in his voice at thought of the fortune next his anxious heart.</p> + +<p>"And the best hen takes the money; no flummery, no filigree!" put +in Reeves.</p> + +<p>Hiram was kneeling beside his agitated bag, and was picking at the +knots in its fastening. "This will be a hen-fight served up Smyrna +style," he said, grimly. "And, as near as I can find out, that style +is mostly—scrambled!"</p> + +<p>"I've got a favor to ask," stammered Wixon, hesitatingly. "It don't +mean much to you, but it means a good deal to others. Bein' penned +up on a poor-farm, with nothin' except three meals a day to take up +your mind, is pretty tough on them as have seen better days. I'll +leave it to Cap'n Sproul, here, if I ain't tried to put a little +kindness and human feelin' into runnin' this place, and—"</p> + +<p>Hiram was untying the last knot. "Spit out what you're drivin' at," +he cried bluntly; "this ain't no time for sideshow barkin'. The big +show is about to begin."</p> + +<p>"I want to invite in the boys," blurted Wixon. And when they blinked +at him amazedly, he said:</p> + +<p>"The five old fellers that's here, I mean. They're safe and mum, and +they're jest dyin' for a little entertainment, and it's only kindness +to them that's unfortunate, if you—"</p> + +<p>"What do you think this is, a livin'-picture show got up to amuse +a set of droolin' old paupers?" demanded Hiram, with heat.</p> + +<p>"Well, as it is, they suspect suthin'," persisted Wixon. "All they +have to do to pass time is to suspect and projick on what's goin' +on and what's goin' to happen. If you'll let me bring 'em, I can shet +their mouths. If they don't come in, they're goin' to suspect suthin' +worse than what it is—and that's only human natur'—and not to blame +for it."</p> + +<p>The two selectmen protested, official alarm in their faces, but Hiram +suddenly took the keeper's side, after the manner of his impetuous +nature, and after he had shrewdly noted that Reeves seemed to be most +alarmed.</p> + +<p>"I'm the challenger," he roared. "I've got something to say. Bring +'em, Wixon. Let 'em have a taste of fun. I may wind up on the poor-farm +myself. Bring 'em in. There's prob'ly more sportin' blood in the +paupers of this town than in the citizens. Bring 'em in, and let's +have talkin' done with."</p> + +<p>In a suspiciously short time Wixon led in his charges—five hobbling +old men, all chewing tobacco and looking wondrously interested.</p> + +<p>"There!" said Hiram, an appreciative glint in his eyes. "Nothin' like +havin' an audience, even if they did come in on passes. I've never +given a show before empty benches yet. And now, gents"—the old +spirit of the "barker" entered into him—"you are about to behold +a moral and elevatin' exhibition of the wonders of natur'. I have +explored the jungles of Palermo, the hills of Peru Corners, the +valleys of North Belgrade, never mindin' time and expense, and I've +got something that beats the wild boy Tom and his little sister Mary. +Without takin' more of your valuable time, I will now present to your +attention"—he tore open the bag—"Cap'n Kidd, the Terror of the +Mountains."</p> + +<p>The wagging jaws of the old paupers stopped as if petrified. Keeper +Wixon peered under his hand and retreated a few paces. Even doughty +Cap'n Sproul, accustomed to the marvels of land and sea, snapped his +eyes. As for Reeves, he gasped "Great gorlemity!" under his breath, +and sat down on the edge of his crate, as though his legs had given +out.</p> + +<p>The creature that rose solemnly up from the billowing folds of the +bagging had a head as smooth and round as a door-knob, dangling, +purple wattles under its bill, and breast of a sanguinary red, picked +clean of feathers. There were not many feathers on the fowl, anyway. +Its tail was merely a spreading of quills like spikes. It was propped +on legs like stilts, and when it stretched to crow it stood up as +tall as a yard-stick.</p> + +<p>"Let out your old doostrabulus, there!" Hiram commanded.</p> + +<p>"That ain't no hen," wailed his adversary.</p> + +<p>"It's got two legs, a bill, and a place for tail-feathers, and that's +near enough to a hen for fightin' purposes in this town—accordin' +to what I've seen of the sport here," insisted the showman. "The +principal hen-fightin' science in Smyrna seems to be to stand on t' +other hen and peck him to pieces! Well, Reeves, Cap'n Kidd there ain't +got so much pedigree as some I've owned, but as a stander and pecker +I'm thinkin' he'll give a good, fair account of himself."</p> + +<p>"It's a gum-game," protested Reeves, agitatedly, "and I ain't goin' +to fight no ostrich nor hen-hawk."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll take the stakes without further wear or tear," said Hiram. +"Am I right, boys?" A unanimous chorus indorsed him. "And this here +is something that I reckon ye won't go to law about," the showman +went on, ominously, "even if you have got a lawyer in the family. +You ketch, don't you?"</p> + +<p>The unhappy second selectman realized his situation, sighed, and +pried a slat off the crate. His nomination was more sanguine than +he. The rooster hopped upon the crate, crowed, and stalked out onto +the barn floor with a confidence that made Reeves perk up courage +a bit.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Kidd showed abstraction rather than zeal. He was busily engaged +in squinting along his warty legs, and at last detected two or three +objects that were annoying him. He picked them off leisurely. Then +he ran his stiff and scratchy wing down his leg, yawned, and seemed +bored.</p> + +<p>When the other rooster ran across and pecked him viciously on his +red expanse of breast, he cocked his head sideways and looked down +wonderingly on this rude assailant. Blood trickled from the wound, +and Reeves giggled nervously. Cap'n Sproul muttered something and +looked apprehensive, but Hiram, his eyes hard and his lips set, +crouched at the side of the floor, and seemed to be waiting +confidently.</p> + +<p>Widow Pike's favorite stepped back, rapped his bill on the floor +several times, and then ran at his foe once more. A second trail of +blood followed his blow. This time the unknown ducked his knobby head +at the attacker. It looked like a blow with a slung-shot. But it +missed, and Reeves tittered again.</p> + +<p>"Fly up and peck his eye out, Pete!" he called, cheerily.</p> + +<p>It is not likely that Peter understood this adjuration, +notwithstanding Cap'n Sproul's gloomy convictions on that score in +the past. But, apparently having tested the courage of this enemy, +he changed his tactics, leaped, and flew at Cap'n Kidd with spurring +feet.</p> + +<p>Then it happened!</p> + +<p>It happened almost before the little group of spectators could gasp.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Kidd threw himself back on the bristling spines of his tail, +both claws off the floor. Peter's spurring feet met only empty air, +and he fell on the foe.</p> + +<p>Foe's splay claws grabbed him around the neck and clutched him like +a vise, shutting off his last, startled squawk. Then Cap'n Kidd +darted forward that knobby head with its ugly beak, and tore off +Peter's caput with one mighty wrench.</p> + +<p>"'Tain't fair! It's jest as I said it was! 'Tain't square!" screamed +Reeves.</p> + +<p>But Hiram strode forward, snapping authoritative fingers under +Wixon's nose. "Hand me that money!" he gritted, and Wixon, his eyes +on the unhappy bird writhing in Cap'n Kidd's wicked grasp, made no +demur. The showman took it, even as the maddened Reeves was clutching +for the packet, tucked it into his breast pocket, and drove the second +selectman back with a mighty thrust of his arm. The selectman +stumbled over the combatants and sat down with a shock that clicked +his teeth. Cap'n Kidd fled from under, and flew to a high beam.</p> + +<p>"He ain't a hen!" squalled Reeves.</p> + +<p>At that moment the barn door was opened from the outside, and through +this exit Cap'n Kidd flapped with hoarse cries, whether of triumph +or fright no one could say.</p> + +<p>The lanterns' light shone on Widow Sidenia Pike, her face white from +the scare "Cap'n Kidd's" rush past her head had given her, but with +determination written large in her features.</p> + +<p>She gazed long at Reeves, sitting on the floor beside the defunct +rooster. She pointed an accusatory finger at it.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Reeves," she said, "you've been lyin' to me two weeks, tryin' +to buy that rooster that I wouldn't sell no more'n I'd sell my first +husband's gravestun'. And when you couldn't git it by lyin', you +stole it off'm the roost to-night. And to make sure there won't be +any more lies, I've followed you right here to find out the truth. +Now what does this mean?"</p> + +<p>There was a soulful pause.</p> + +<p>"Lie in small things, lie in big!" she snapped. "I reckon I've found +ye out for a missabul thing!"</p> + +<p>Hiram, standing back in the shadows, nudged Cap'n Sproul beside him, +and wagged his head toward the open door. They went out on tiptoe.</p> + +<p>"If he wants to lie some more, our bein' round might embarrass him," +whispered Hiram. "I never like to embarrass a man when he's +down—and—and her eyes was so much on Reeves and the rooster I don't +believe she noticed us. And what she don't know won't hurt her none. +But"—he yawned—"I shouldn't be a mite surprised if another one of +Bat Reeves's engagements was busted in this town. He don't seem to +have no luck at all in marryin' farms with the wimmen throwed in." +The Cap'n didn't appear interested in Reeves's troubles. His eyes +were searching the dim heavens.</p> + +<p>"What do you call that thing you brought in the bag?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Blamed if I know!" confessed Hiram, climbing upon his chariot. "And +I'm pretty well up on freaks, too, as a circus man ought to be. I +jest went out huntin' for suthin' to fit in with the sportin' blood +as I found it in this place—and I reckon I got it! Mebbe 'twas a +cassowary, mebbe 'twas a dodo—the man himself didn't know—said +even the hen that hatched it didn't seem to know. 'Pologized to me +for asking me two dollars for it, and I gave him five. I hope it will +go back where it come from. It hurt my eyes to look at it. But it +was a good bargain!" He patted his breast pocket.</p> + +<p>"Come over to-morrow," he called to the Cap'n as he drove away. "I +sha'n't have so much on my mind, and I'll be a little more sociable! +Listen to that bagpipe selection!"</p> + +<p>Behind them they heard the whining drone of a man's pleading voice +and a woman's shrill, insistent tones, a monotony of sound flowing +on—and on—and on!</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XI</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>The president of the "Smyrna Agricultural Fair and Gents' Driving +Association" had been carrying something on his mind throughout the +meeting of the trustees of the society—the last meeting before the +date advertised for the fair. And now, not without a bit of +apprehensiveness, he let it out.</p> + +<p>"I've invited the Honer'ble J. Percival Bickford to act as the +starter and one of the judges of the races," he announced.</p> + +<p>Trustee Silas Wallace, superintendent of horses, had put on his hat. +Now he took it off again.</p> + +<p>"What!" he almost squalled.</p> + +<p>"You see," explained the president, with eager conciliatoriness, +"we've only got to scratch his back just a little to have him—"</p> + +<p>"Why, 'Kittle-belly' Bickford don't know no more about hoss-trottin' +than a goose knows about the hard-shell Baptist doctrine," raved +Wallace, his little eyes popping like marbles.</p> + +<p>"I don't like to hear a man that's done so much for his native town +called by any such names," retorted the president, ready to show +temper himself, to hide his embarrassment. "He's come back here +and—"</p> + +<p>Trustee Wallace now stood up and cracked his bony knuckles on the +table, his weazened face puckered with angry ridges.</p> + +<p>"I don't need to have a printed catalogue of what Jabe Bickford has +done for this town. And I don't need to be told what he's done it +for. He's come back from out West, where he stole more money than +he knew what to do with, and—"</p> + +<p>"I protest!" cried President Thurlow Kitchen. "When you say that the +Honer'ble J. Percival Bickford has stolen—"</p> + +<p>"Well, promoted gold-mines, then! It's only more words to say the +same thing. And he's back here spendin' his loose change for daily +doses of hair-oil talk fetched to him by the beggin' old suckers of +this place."</p> + +<p>"I may be a beggin' old sucker," flared the president, "but I've had +enterprise enough and interest in this fair enough to get Mr. +Bickford to promise us a present of a new exhibition hall, and it's +only right to extend some courtesy to him in return."</p> + +<p>"It was all right to make him president of the lib'ry association +when he built the lib'ry, make him a deacon when he gave the organ +for the meetin'-house, give him a banquet and nineteen speeches +tellin' him he was the biggest man on earth when he put the stone +watering-trough in—all that was all right for them that thought it +was all right. But when you let 'Kittle-belly' Bickford—"</p> + +<p>"Don't you call him that," roared President Kitchen, thumping the +table.</p> + +<p>"Duke, then! Dammit, crown him lord of all! But when you let him hang +that pod of his out over the rail of that judges' stand and bust up +a hoss-trot programmy that I've been three months gettin' entries +for—and all jest so he can show off a white vest and a plug hat and +a new gold stop-watch and have the band play 'Hail to the Chief'—I +don't stand for it—no, sir!"</p> + +<p>"The trouble is with you," retorted the president with spirit, +"you've razoo-ed and hoss-jockeyed so long you've got the idea that +all there is to a fair is a plug of chaw-tobacco, a bag of peanuts, +and a posse of nose-whistlin' old pelters skatin' round a half-mile +track."</p> + +<p>"And you and 'Kit'—you and Duke Jabe, leave you alone to run a +fair—wouldn't have northin' but his new exhibition hall filled with +croshayed tidies and hooked rugs."</p> + +<p>"Well, I move," broke in Trustee Dunham, "that we git som'ers. I'm +personally in favor of pleasin' Honer'ble Bickford and takin' the +exhibition hall."</p> + +<p>"That's right! That's business!" came decisive chorus from the other +three trustees. "Let's take the hall."</p> + +<p>Wallace doubled his gaunt form, propped himself on the table by his +skinny arms, and stared from face to face in disgust unutterable.</p> + +<p>"Take it?" he sneered. "Why, you'll take anything! You're takin' up +the air in this room, like pumpin' up a sulky tire, and ain't lettin' +it out again! Good-day! I'm goin' out where I can get a full breath."</p> + +<p>He whirled on them at the door.</p> + +<p>"But you hark to what I'm predictin' to you! If you don't wish the +devil had ye before you're done with that old balloon with a plug +hat on it in your judges' stand, then I'll trot an exhibition half +mile on my hands and knees against Star Pointer for a bag of oats. +And I'm speakin' for all the hossmen in this county."</p> + +<p>When this uncomfortable Jeremiah had departed, leaving in his wake +a trailing of oaths and a bouquet of stable aroma, the trustees showed +relief, even if enthusiasm was notably absent.</p> + +<p>"It's going to raise the tone of the fair, having him in the +stand—there ain't any getting round that," said the president. "The +notion seemed to strike him mighty favorable. 'It's an idea!' said +he to me. 'Yes, a real idea. I will have other prominent gentlemen +to serve with me, and we will be announced as paytrons of the races. +That will sound well, I think.' And he asked me what two men in town +was best fixed financially, and, of course, I told him Cap'n Aaron +Sproul, our first selectman, and Hiram Look. He said he hadn't been +in town long enough to get real well acquainted with either of them +yet, but hoped they were gentlemen. I told him they were. I reckon +that being skipper of a ship and ownin' a circus stands as high as +the gold-mine business."</p> + +<p>"Well," said one of the trustees, with some venom, "Jabe Bickford +is doin' a good deal for this town, one way and another, but he wants +to remember that his gran'ther had to call on us for town aid, and +that there wa'n't nary ever another Bickford that lived in this town +or went out of it, except Jabe, that could get trusted for a barrel +of flour. Puttin' on his airs out West is all right, but puttin' 'em +on here to home, among us that knows him and all his breed, is makin' +some of the old residents kind of sick. Si Wallace hadn't ought to +call him by that name he did, but Si is talkin' the way a good many +feel."</p> + +<p>"If an angel from heaven should descend on this town with the gift +of abidin' grace," said President Kitchen, sarcastically, "a lot of +folks here would get behind his back and make faces at him."</p> + +<p>"Prob'ly would," returned the trustee, imperturbably, "if said angel +wore a plug hat and kid gloves from mornin' till night, said 'Me good +man' to old codgers who knowed him when he had stone-bruises on his +heels as big as pigeon's aigs, and otherwise acted as though he was +cream and every one else was buttermilk."</p> + +<p>"Well, when some of the rest of you have done as much for this town +as Honer'ble Bickford," broke in the president, testily, "you can +have the right to criticise. As it is, I can't see anything but +jealousy in it. And I've heard enough of it. Now, to make this thing +all pleasant and agreeable to the Honer'ble Bickford, we've got to +have Cap'n Sproul and Hiram Look act as judges with him. 'Tis a vote! +Now, who will see Cap'n Sproul and—"</p> + +<p>"Considerin' what has happened to those who have in times past tried +to notify Cap'n Sproul of honors tendered to him in this town, you'd +better pick out some one who knows how to use the wireless telegraph," +suggested one of the trustees.</p> + +<p>"There won't be any trouble in gettin' Hiram Look to act," said the +president. "He's just enough of a circus feller to like to stand up +before the crowd and show authority. Well, then"—the president's +wits were sharpened by his anxiety over the proposed exhibition +hall—"let Mr. Look arrange it with Cap'n Sproul. They're suckin' +cider through the same straw these days."</p> + +<p>And this suggestion was so eminently good that the meeting adjourned +in excellent humor that made light of all the gloomy prognostications +of Trustee Wallace.</p> + +<p>As though good-fortune were in sooth ruling the affairs of the Smyrna +A.F. & G.D.A., Hiram Look came driving past as the trustees came out +of the tavern, their meeting-place.</p> + +<p>He stroked his long mustache and listened. At first his silk hat stuck +up rigidly, but soon it began to nod gratified assent.</p> + +<p>"I don't know much about hoss-trottin' rules, but a man that's been +in the show business for thirty years has got enough sportin' blood +in him for the job, I reckon. Bickford and Sproul, hey? Why, yes! +I'll hunt up the Cap, and take him over to Bickford's, and we'll +settle preliminaries, or whatever the hoss-talk is for gettin' +together. I'd rather referee a prize-fight, but you're too dead up +this way for real sport to take well. Nothing been said to Sproul? +All right! I'll fix him."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul was in his garden, surveying the growing "sass" with +much content of spirit. He cheerfully accepted Hiram's invitation +to take a ride, destination not mentioned, and they jogged away +toward "Bickburn Towers," as the Honorable J. Percival had named the +remodelled farm-house of his ancestors.</p> + +<p>Hiram, whose gift was language, impetuous in flow and convincing in +argument, whether as barker or friend, conveyed the message of the +trustees to Cap'n Sproul. But the first selectman of Smyrna did not +display enthusiasm. He scowled at the buggy dasher and was silent.</p> + +<p>"Men that have been out and about, like you and I have been, need +something once in a while to break the monotony of country life," +concluded Hiram, slashing his whip at the wayside alders.</p> + +<p>"You and me and him," observed the Cap'n, with sullen prod of his +thumb in direction of the "gingerbready" tower of the Bickford place +rising over the ridge, "marooned in that judges' stand like penguins +on a ledge—we'll be li'ble to break the monotony. Oh yes! There ain't +no doubt about that."</p> + +<p>"Why, there'll be northin' to it!" blustered Hiram, encouragingly. +"I'll swear 'em into line, you holler 'Go!' and the Honer'ble +Bickford will finger that new gold stop-watch of his and see how fast +they do it. Northin' to it, I say!"</p> + +<p>"This is the blastedest town a man ever settled down in to spend his +last days in peace and quietness," growled the Cap'n. "There's a set +of men here that seem to be perfickly happy so long as they're rollin' +up a gob of trouble, sloppin' a little sweet-oil and molasses on the +outside and foolin' some one into swallerin' it. I tell ye, Look, +I've lived here a little longer than you have, and when you see a +man comin' to offer you what they call an honor, kick him on general +principles, and kick him hard."</p> + +<p>"Doctors ought to be willin' to take their own medicine," retorted +Hiram, grimly. "Here you be, first selec'man and—"</p> + +<p>"They caught me when I wa'n't lookin'—not bein' used to the ways +of land-piruts," replied the Cap'n, gloomily. "I was tryin' to warn +you as one that's been ahead and knows."</p> + +<p>"Why, that's just what I like about this town," blurted Hiram, +undismayed. "When I came home to Palermo a year ago or so, after all +my wanderin's, they wouldn't elect me so much as hog-reeve—seemed +to be down on me all 'round. But here—heard what they did last +night?" There was pride in his tones. "They elected me foreman of +the Smyrna Ancient and Honer'ble Firemen's Association."</p> + +<p>"And you let 'em hornswoggle you into takin' it?" demanded the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Leather buckets, piazzy hat, speakin'-trumpet, bed-wrench, and +puckerin'-string bag are in my front hall this minit," said Hiram, +cheerily, "and the wife is gittin' the stuff together for the feed +and blow-out next week. I'm goin' to do it up brown!"</p> + +<p>The Cap'n opened his mouth as though to enter upon revelations. But +he shut it without a word.</p> + +<p>"It ain't no use," he reflected, his mind bitter with the memories +of his own occupancy of that office. "It's like the smallpox and the +measles; you've got to have a run of 'em yourself before you're safe +from ketchin' 'em."</p> + +<p>The Honorable J. Percival Bickford, rotund and suave with the +mushiness of the near-gentleman, met them graciously in the hall, +having waited for the servant to announce them.</p> + +<p>Hiram did most of the talking, puffing at one of the host's long +cigars. Cap'n Sproul sat on the edge of a spider-legged chair, great +unhappiness on his countenance. Mr. Bickford was both charmed and +delighted, so he said, by their acceptance, and made it known that +he had suggested them, in his anxiety to have only gentlemen of +standing associated with him.</p> + +<p>"As the landed proprietors of the town, as you might say," he observed, +"it becomes us as due our position to remove ourselves a little from +the herd. In the judges' stand we can, as you might say, be patrons +of the sports of the day, without loss of dignity. I believe—and +this is also my suggestion—that the trustees are to provide an open +barouche, and we will be escorted from the gate to the stand by a +band of music. That will be nice. And when it is over we will award +the prizes, as I believe they call it—"</p> + +<p>"Announce winners of heats and division of purses," corrected Hiram, +out of his greater knowledge of sporting affairs. "I'll do that +through a megaphone. When I barked in front of my show you could hear +me a mile."</p> + +<p>"It will all be very nice," said Mr. Bickford, daintily flecking +cigar ash from his glorious white waistcoat. "Er—by the way—I see +that you customarily wear a silk hat, Mr. Look."</p> + +<p>"It needs a plug hat, a lemon, and a hunk of glass to run a circus," +said the ex-showman.</p> + +<p>"Yes, men may say what they like, Mr. Look, the people expect certain +things in the way of garb from those whom they honor with position. +Er—do you wear a silk hat officially, Captain Sproul, as selectman?"</p> + +<p>"Not by a—never had one of the things on!" replied the Cap'n, +moderating his first indignant outburst.</p> + +<p>"I'm going to do you a bit of neighborly kindness," said Mr. Bickford, +blandly. "James," he called to the servant, "bring the brown bandbox +in the hall closet. It's one of my hats," he explained. "I have +several. You may wear it in the stand, with my compliments, Captain +Sproul. Then we'll be three of a kind, eh? Ha, ha!"</p> + +<p>The Cap'n licked his lips as though fever burned there, and worked +his Adam's apple vigorously. Probably if he had been in the +accustomed freedom of outdoors he would have sworn soulfully and +smashed the bandbox over the Honorable J. Percival's bald head. Now, +in the stilted confines of that ornate parlor, he nursed the bandbox +on his knees, as part of the rest of the spider-legged and frail +surroundings. When they retired to their team he carried the bandbox +held gingerly out in front of him, tiptoeing across the polished +floor.</p> + +<p>"What? Me wear that bird-cage?" he roared, when they were out of +hearing. "Not by the great jeehookibus!"</p> + +<p>"Yes, you will," returned Hiram, with the calm insistence of a friend. +"You ain't tryin' to make out that what I do ain't all right and proper, +are you?"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul checked an apparent impulse to toss the bandbox into +the roadside bushes, and after a moment tucked the thing under the +seat to have it out of the way of his tempted hands. Then he wrenched +off a huge chew of tobacco whose rumination might check his impulse +toward tempestuous language.</p> + +<p>He tried the hat on that night in the presence of his admiring wife, +gritting curses under his breath, his skin prickling with resentment. +He swore then that he would never wear it. But on the day of the race +he carried it in its box to the selectman's office, at which common +meeting-place the three judges were to be taken up by the official +barouche of the Smyrna Fair Association.</p> + +<p>Under the commanding eye of Hiram Look he put on the head-gear when +the barouche was announced at the door, and went forth into the glare +of publicity with a furtive sense of shame that flushed his cheek. +By splitting the top of his hack, Ferd Parrott, landlord of Smyrna +tavern, had produced a vehicle that somewhat resembled half a +watermelon. Ferd drove, adorned also with a plug hat from the stock +of the Honorable Percival.</p> + +<p>Just inside the gate of the fair-grounds waited the Smyrna "Silver +Cornet Band." It struck up "Hail to the Chief," to the violent alarm +of the hack-horses.</p> + +<p>"We're goin' to get run away with sure's you're above hatches!" +bellowed Cap'n Sproul, standing up and making ready to leap over the +edge of the watermelon. But Hiram Look restrained him, and the band, +its trombones splitting the atmosphere, led away with a merry march.</p> + +<p>When they had circled the track, from the three-quarters pole to the +stand, and the crowd broke into plaudits, Cap'n Sproul felt a bit +more comfortable, and dared to straighten his neck and lift his +head-gear further into the sunshine.</p> + +<p>He even forgot the hateful presence of his seat-mate, a huge dog that +Mr. Bickford had invited into the fourth place in the carriage.</p> + +<p>"A very valuable animal, gentlemen," he said. "Intelligent as a man, +and my constant companion. To-day is the day of two of man's best +friends—the horse and the dog—and Hector will be in his element."</p> + +<p>But Hector, wagging and slavering amiably about in the narrow +confines of the little stand to which they climbed, snapped the +Cap'n's leash of self-control ere five minutes passed.</p> + +<p>"Say, Mr. Bickford," he growled, after one or two efforts to crowd +past the ubiquitous canine and get to the rail, "either me or your +dog is in the way here."</p> + +<p>"Charge, Hector!" commanded Mr. Bickford, taking one eye from the +cheering multitude. The dog "clumped" down reluctantly.</p> + +<p>"We might just as well get to an understandin'," said the Cap'n, not +yet placated. "I ain't used to a dog underfoot, I don't like a dog, +and I won't associate with a dog. Next thing I know I'll be makin' +a misstep onto him, and he'll have a hunk out of me."</p> + +<p>"Why, my dear captain," oozed Hector's proprietor, "that dog is as +intelligent as a man, as mild as a kitten, and a very—"</p> + +<p>"Don't care if he's writ a dictionary and nussed infants," cried the +Cap'n, slatting out his arm defiantly; "it's him or me, here; take +your choice!"</p> + +<p>"I—I think your dog would be all right if you let him stay +down-stairs under the stand," ventured President Kitchen, +diplomatically.</p> + +<p>"He's a valuable animal," demurred Mr. Bickford, "and—" He caught +the flaming eye of the Cap'n, and added: "But if you'll have a man +sit with him he may go.</p> + +<p>"Now we'll settle down for a real nice afternoon," he went on, +conciliatingly. "Let's see: This here is the cord that I pull to +signal the horses to start, is it?"</p> + +<p>"No, no!" expostulated President Kitchen, "you pull that bell-cord +to call them back if the field isn't bunched all right at the wire +when they score down for the word. If all the horses are in position +and are all leveled, you shout 'Go!' and start your watch."</p> + +<p>"Precisely," said Mr. Bickford.</p> + +<p>"It's the custom," went on the president, solicitous for the success +of his strange assortment of judges, yet with heart almost failing +him, "for each judge to have certain horses that he watches during +the mile for breaks or fouls. Then he places them as they come under +the wire. That is so one man won't have too much on his mind."</p> + +<p>"Very, very nice!" murmured the Honorable J. Percival. "We are here +to enjoy the beautiful day and the music and the happy throngs, and +we don't want to be too much taken up with our duties." He pushed +himself well out into view over the rail, held his new gold watch +in one gloved hand, and tapped time to the band with the other.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XII</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>A narrow flight of rickety, dusty stairs conducted one from the dim, +lower region of the little stand through an opening in the floor of +the judge's aerie. There was a drop-door over the opening, held up +by a hasp.</p> + +<p>Now came a thumping of resolute feet on the stairs; a head projected +just above the edge of the opening, and stopped there.</p> + +<p>"President, trustees, and judges!" hailed a squeaky voice.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul recognized the speaker with an uncontrollable snort of +disgust.</p> + +<p>It was Marengo Todd, most obnoxious of all that hateful crowd of the +Cap'n's "wife's relations"—the man who had misused the Cap'n's +honeymoon guilelessness in order to borrow money and sell him +spavined horses.</p> + +<p>Marengo surveyed them gloomily from under a driving-cap visor huge +as a sugar-scoop. He flourished at them a grimy sheet of paper.</p> + +<p>"Mister President, trustees, and judges, I've got here a dockyment +signed by seventeen—"</p> + +<p>President Kitchen knew that Marengo Todd had been running his +bow-legs off all the forenoon securing signatures to a petition of +protest that had been inspired by Trustee Silas Wallace. The +president pushed away the hand that brandished the paper.</p> + +<p>"What do you take this for—an afternoon readin'-circle?" he +demanded. "If you're goin' to start your hoss in this thirty-four +class you want to get harnessed. We're here to trot hosses, not to +peruse dockyments."</p> + +<p>"This 'ere ain't no pome on spring," yelled Marengo, banging the dust +out of the floor with his whip-butt and courageously coming up one +step on the stairs. "It's a protest, signed by seventeen drivers, +and says if you start these events with them three old sofy pillers, +there, stuffed into plug hats, for judges, we'll take this thing +clear up to the Nayshunal 'Sociation and show up this fair management. +There, chaw on that!"</p> + +<p>"Why, bless my soul!" chirruped the Honorable Bickford, "this man +seems very much excited. You'll have to run away, my good man! We're +very busy up here, and have no time to subscribe to any papers."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford evidently believed that this was one of the daily +"touches" to which he had become accustomed.</p> + +<p>"Don't ye talk to me like I was one of your salaried +spittoon-cleaners," squealed Marengo, emboldened by the hoarse and +encouraging whispers of Trustee Wallace in the dim depths below. The +name that much repetition by Wallace had made familiar slipped out +before he had time for second thought. "I knowed ye, Kittle-belly +Bickford, when ye wore patches on your pants bigger'n dinner-plates +and—"</p> + +<p>President Kitchen let loose the hasp that held up the drop-door and +fairly "pegged" Mr. Todd out of sight. He grinned apologetically at +a furious Mr. Bickford.</p> + +<p>"Order the marshal to call the hosses for the thirty-four trot, +Honer'ble," he directed, anxious to give the starter something to +do to take his mind off present matters.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford obeyed, finding this exercise of authority a partial +sop to his wounded feelings.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul pendulumed dispiritedly to and fro in the little +enclosure, gloomily and obstinately waiting for the disaster that +his seaman's sense of impending trouble scented. Hiram Look was +frankly and joyously enjoying a scene that revived his old circus +memories.</p> + +<p>Eleven starters finally appeared, mostly green horses. The drivers +were sullen and resentful. Marengo Todd was up behind a Gothic ruin +that he called "Maria M." When he jogged past the judges' stand to +get position, elbows on his knees and shoulders hunched up, the glare +that he levelled on Bickford from under his scoop visor was +absolutely demoniac. The mutter of his denunciation could be heard +above the yells of the fakers and the squawk of penny whistles.</p> + +<p>Occasionally he scruffed his forearm over his head as though fondling +something that hurt him.</p> + +<p>To start those eleven rank brutes on that cow-lane of a track would +have tested the resources and language of a professional. When they +swung at the foot of the stretch and came scoring for the first time +it was a mix-up that excited the vociferous derision of the crowd. +Nearly every horse was off his stride, the drivers sawing at the bits.</p> + +<p>Marengo Todd had drawn the pole, but by delaying, in order to blast +the Honorable J. Percival with his glances, he was not down to turn +with the others, and now came pelting a dozen lengths behind, howling +like a Modoc.</p> + +<p>Some railbird satirist near the wire bawled "Go!" as the unspeakable +riot swept past in dust-clouds. The Honorable Bickford had early +possessed himself of the bell-cord as his inalienable privilege. He +did not ring the bell to call the field back. He merely leaned far +out, clutching the cord, endeavoring to get his eye on the man who +had shouted "Go!" He declaimed above the uproar that the man who would +do such a thing as that was no gentleman, and declared that he should +certainly have a constable arrest the next man who interfered with +his duties.</p> + +<p>In the mean time President Kitchen was frantically calling to him +to ring the gong. The horses kept going, for a driver takes no chances +of losing a heat by coming back to ask questions. It was different +in the case of Marengo Todd, driver of the pole-horse, and entitled +to "protection." He pulled "Maria M." to a snorting halt under the +wire and poured forth the vials of his artistic profanity in a way +that piqued Cap'n Sproul's professional interest, he having heard +more or less eminent efforts in his days of seafaring.</p> + +<p>Lashed in this manner, the Honorable J. Percival Bickford began +retort of a nature that reminded his fellow-townsmen that he was +"Jabe" Bickford, of Smyrna, before he was donor of public benefits +and libraries.</p> + +<p>The grimness of Cap'n Sproul's face relaxed a little. He forgot even +the incubus of the plug hat. He nudged Hiram.</p> + +<p>"I didn't know he had it in him," he whispered. "I was afraid he was +jest a dude and northin' else."</p> + +<p>In this instance the dog Hector seemed to know his master's voice, +and realized that something untoward was occurring. He came bounding +out from under the stand and frisked backward toward the centre of +the track in order to get a square look at his lord. In this blind +progress he bumped against the nervous legs of "Maria M." She +promptly expressed her opinion of the Bickford family and its +attaches by rattling the ribs of Hector by a swift poke with her hoof.</p> + +<p>The dog barked one astonished yap of indignation and came back with +a snap that started the crimson on "Maria's" fetlock. She kicked him +between the eyes this time—a blow that floored him. The next instant +"Maria M." was away, Todd vainly struggling with the reins and +trailing the last of his remarks over his shoulder. The dog was no +quitter. He appeared to have the noble blood of which his master had +boasted. After a dizzy stagger, he shot away after his assailant—a +cloud of dust with a core of dog.</p> + +<p>The other drivers, their chins apprehensively over their shoulders, +took to the inner oval of the course or to the side lines. Todd, "Maria +M.," and Hector were, by general impulse, allowed to become the whole +show.</p> + +<p>When the mare came under the wire the first time two swipes attempted +to stop her by the usual method of suddenly stretching a blanket +before her. She spread her legs and squatted. Todd shot forward. The +mare had a long, stiff neck. Her driver went astraddle of it and stuck +there like a clothes-pin on a line. Hector, in his cloud of dust, +dove under the sulky and once more snapped the mare's leg, this time +with a vigor that brought a squeal of fright and pain out of her. +She went over the blanket and away again. The dog, having received +another kick, and evidently realizing that he was still "it" in this +grotesque game of tag, kept up the chase.</p> + +<p>No one who was at Smyrna fair that day ever remembered just how many +times the antagonists circled the track. But when the mare at last +began to labor under the weight of her rider, a half-dozen men rushed +out and anchored her. The dog growled, dodged the men's kicking feet, +and went back under the stand.</p> + +<p>"What is this, jedges, a dog-fight or a hoss-trot?" raved Todd, +staggering in front of the stand and quivering his thin arms above +his head. "Whose is that dog? I've got a right to kill him, and I'm +going to. Show yourself over that rail, you old sausage, with a plug +hat on it, and tell me what you mean by a send-off like that! What +did I tell ye, trustees? It's happened. I'll kill that dog."</p> + +<p>"I want you to understand," bellowed the Honorable Bickford, using +the megaphone, "you are talking about my dog—a dog that is worth +more dollars than that old knock-kneed plug of yours has got hairs +in her mane. Put your hand on that dog, and you'll go to State Prison."</p> + +<p>"Then I'll bet a thousand dollars to a doughnut ye set that dog on +me," howled Marengo. "I heard ye siss him!"</p> + +<p>The Honorable J. Percival seemed to be getting more into the spirit +of the occasion.</p> + +<p>"You're a cross-eyed, wart-nosed liar!" he retorted, with great +alacrity.</p> + +<p>"I'll stump ye down here," screamed Todd. "I can lick you and your +dog, both together."</p> + +<p>"If I was in your place," said "Judge" Hiram Look, his interest in +horse-trotting paling beside this more familiar phase of sport, "I'd +go down and cuff his old chops. You'll have the crowd with you if +you do."</p> + +<p>But Mr. Bickford, though trembling with rage, could not bring himself +to correlate fisticuffs and dignity.</p> + +<p>"He is a miserable, cheap horse-jockey, and I shall treat him with +the contempt he deserves," he blustered. "If it hadn't been for my +dog his old boneyard could never have gone twice around the track, +anyway."</p> + +<p>The crowds on the grand stand were bellowing: "Trot hosses! Shut up! +Trot hosses!"</p> + +<p>"Er—what other races have we?" inquired the Honorable J. Percival, +as blandly as his violated feelings would allow.</p> + +<p>"We haven't had any yet," cried a new voice in the stand—the wrathful +voice of Trustee Silas Wallace, of the horse department. After quite +a struggle he had managed to tip President Kitchen off the trap-door +and had ascended. "We never will have any, either," he shouted, +shaking his finger under the president's nose. "What did I tell you +would happen? We'll be reported to the National Association."</p> + +<p>The crowd across the way roared and barked like beasts of prey, and +the insistent and shrill staccato of Marengo Todd sounded over all.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul deliberately and with much decision took off his silk +hat and held it toward the Honorable Bickford.</p> + +<p>"I resign!" he said. "I was shanghaied into this thing against my +good judgment, and it's come out just as I expected it would. It ain't +no place for me, and I resign!"</p> + +<p>"It isn't any place for gentlemen," agreed Mr. Bickford, ignoring +the proffered hat. "We seem to be thrown in among some very vulgar +people," he went on, his ear out for Marengo's taunts, his eyes boring +Trustee Wallace. "It is not at all as I supposed it would be. You +cannot expect us to be patrons of the races under these circumstances, +Mr. Kitchen. You will please call our barouche. We leave in great +displeasure."</p> + +<p>"I don't give a red hoorah how you leave, so long as you leave before +you've busted up this fair—trot programmy and all," retorted Mr. +Wallace, bridling. "I've got three men waitin' ready to come into +this stand. They don't wear plug hats, but they know the diff'runce +between a dog-fight and a hoss-trot."</p> + +<p>"Take this! I don't want it no more," insisted the Cap'n, stung by +this repeated reference to plug hats. He poked the head-gear at Mr. +Bickford. But that gentleman brushed past him, stumped down the +stairs, and strode into the stretch before the stand, loudly calling +for the carriage.</p> + +<p>Marengo Todd, accepting his sudden and defiant appearance as gage +of battle, precipitately withdrew, leaping the fence and +disappearing under the grand-stand.</p> + +<p>It was five minutes or more ere the barouche appeared, Mr. Parrott +requiring to be coaxed by President Kitchen to haul the three +disgraced dignitaries away. He seemed to sniff a mob sentiment that +might damage his vehicle.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford's two associates followed him from the stand, the Cap'n +abashed and carrying the tall hat behind his back, Hiram Look +muttering disgusted profanity under his long mustache.</p> + +<p>"I want to say, gentlemen," cried Mr. Bickford, utilizing the +interval of waiting to address the throng about him, "that you have +no right to blame my dog. He is a valuable animal and a great family +pet, and he only did what it is his nature to do."</p> + +<p>Marengo Todd was edging back into the crowd, his coat off and +something wrapped in the garment.</p> + +<p>"Blame no creature for that which it is his nature to do," said Mr. +Bickford. "He was attacked first, and he used the weapons nature +provided."</p> + +<p>"Fam'ly pets, then, has a right to do as it is their nature for to +do?" squealed Todd, working nearer.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford scornfully turned his back on this vulgar railer. The +carriage was at hand.</p> + +<p>"How about pets known as medder hummin'-birds?" demanded Todd.</p> + +<p>The Cap'n was the first in. Hiram came next, kicking out at the +amiable Hector, who would have preceded him. When the Honorable J. +Percival stepped in, some one slammed the carriage-door so quickly +on his heels that his long-tailed coat was caught in the crack.</p> + +<p>Todd forced his way close to the carriage as it was about to start. +His weak nature was in a state of anger bordering on the maniacal.</p> + +<p>"Here's some more family pets for you that ain't any dangerouser than +them you're cultivatin'. Take 'em home and study 'em."</p> + +<p>He climbed on the wheel and shook out of the folds of his coat a +hornets' nest that he had discovered during his temporary exile under +the grand-stand. It dropped into Mr. Bickford's lap, and with a swat +of his coat Todd crushed it where it lay. It was a coward's revenge, +but it was an effective one.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford leaped, either in pain or in order to pursue the fleeing +Marengo, and fell over the side of the carriage. His coat-tail held +fast in the door, and suspended him, his toes and fingers just +touching the ground. When he jumped he threw the nest as far as he +could, and it fell under the horses. Hiram endeavored to open the +hack-door as the animals started—but who ever yet opened a hack-door +in a hurry?</p> + +<p>Cap'n Aaron Sproul's first impulse was the impulse of the sailor who +beholds dangerous top-hamper dragging at a craft's side in a squall. +He out with his big knife and cut off the Honorable Bickford's +coat-tails with one mighty slash, and that gentleman rolled in the +dust over the hornets' nest, just outside the wheels, as the carriage +roared away down the stretch.</p> + +<p>Landlord Parrott was obliged to make one circuit of the track before +he could control his steeds, but the triumphal rush down the length +of the yelling grand-stand was an ovation that Cap'n Sproul did not +relish. He concealed the hateful plug hat between his knees, and +scowled straight ahead.</p> + +<p>Parrott did not go back after the Honorable Bickford.</p> + +<p>The loyal and apologetic Kitchen assisted that gentleman to rise, +brushed off his clothes—what were left of them—and carried him to +"Bickburn Towers" in his buggy, with Hector wagging sociably in the +dust behind.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bickford fingered the ragged edge of his severed coat-tails, and +kept his thoughts to himself during his ride.</p> + +<p>When the old lady Sampson called at the Towers next day with a +subscription paper to buy a carpet for the Baptist vestry, James +informed her that Mr. Bickford had gone out West to look after his +business interests.</p> + +<p>When Hiram Look set Cap'n Aaron Sproul down at his door that afternoon +he emphasized the embarrassed silence that had continued during the +ride by driving away without a word. Equally as saturnine, Cap'n +Sproul walked through his dooryard, the battered plug hat in his hand, +paying no heed to the somewhat agitated questions of his wife. She +watched his march into the corn-field with concern.</p> + +<p>She saw him set the hat on the head of a scarecrow whose construction +had occupied his spare hours, and in which he felt some little pride. +But after surveying the result a moment he seemed to feel that he +had insulted a helpless object, for he took the hat off, spat into +it, and kicked it into shapeless pulp. Then he came back to the house +and grimly asked his wife if she had anything handy to take the poison +out of hornet stings.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XIII</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>In Newry, on the glorious Fourth of July, the Proud Bird of Freedom +wears a red shirt, a shield hat, and carries a speaking-trumpet +clutched under one wing. From the court-house—Newry is the county's +shire town—across to the post-office is stretched the well-worn +banner:</p> + +<center><h3>WELCOME TO THE COUNTY'S<br> +BRAVE FIRE-LADDIES</h3></center> + +<p>That banner pitches the key for Independence Day in Newry. The shire +patriotically jangles her half-dozen bells in the steeples at +daylight in honor of Liberty, and then gives Liberty a stick of candy +and a bag of peanuts, and tells her to sit in the shade and keep her +eye out sharp for the crowding events of the annual firemen's muster. +This may be a cavalier way of treating Liberty, but perhaps Liberty +enjoys it better than being kept on her feet all day, listening to +speeches and having her ear-drums split by cannon. Who knows? At all +events, Newry's programme certainly suits the firemen of the county, +from Smyrna in the north to Carthage in the south. And the firemen +of the county and their women are the ones who do their shopping in +Newry! Liberty was never known to buy as much as a ribbon for her +kimono there.</p> + +<p>So it's the annual firemen's muster for Newry's Fourth! Red shirts +in the forenoon parade, red language at the afternoon tub-trials, +red fire in the evening till the last cheer is yawped.</p> + +<p>So it was on the day of which this truthful chronicle treats.</p> + +<p>Court Street, at ten, ante-meridian, was banked with eager faces. +Band music, muffled and mellow, away off somewhere where the parade +was forming! Small boys whiling away the tedium of waiting with +snap-crackers. Country teams loaded to the edges, and with little +Johnny scooched on a cricket in front, hustling down the line of +parade to find a nook. Anxious parents scuttling from side to side +of the street, dragging red-faced offspring with the same haste and +uncertainty hens display to get on the other side of the road—having +no especial object in changing, except to change. Chatter of voices, +hailings of old friends who signified delighted surprise by +profanity and affectionate abuse. Everlasting wailings of penny +squawkers!</p> + +<p>Behold Newry ready for its annual: "See the Conquering Heroes Come!"</p> + +<p>Uncle Brad Trufant stood on the post-office steps, dim and +discontented eyes on the vista of Court Street, framed in the +drooping elms.</p> + +<p>"They don't get the pepper sass into it these days they used to," +he said. "These last two years, if it wa'n't for the red shirts and +some one forgettin' and cussin' once in a while, you'd think they +was classes from a theological seminary marchin' to get their degrees. +I can remember when we came down from Vienny twenty years ago with +old Niag'ry, and ev'ry man was over six feet tall, and most of 'em +had double teeth, upper and lower, all the way 'round. And all wore +red shirts. And ev'ry man had one horn, and most of 'em tew. We broke +glass when we hollered. We tore up ground when we jumped. We cracked +the earth when we lit. Them was real days for firemen!"</p> + +<p>"Ain't seen the Smyrna Ancient and Honorable Firemen's Association, +Hiram Look foreman, and his new fife-and-drum corps, and the rest +of the trimmin's, have you, Uncle Brad?" drawled a man near him. "Well, +don't commit yourself too far on old Vienny till the Smyrna part of +the parade gets past. I see 'em this mornin' when they unloaded Hecly +One and the trimmin's 'foresaid, and I'd advise you to wait a spell +before you go to callin' this muster names."</p> + +<p>It became apparent a little later that hints of this sort were having +their effect on the multitude. Even the head of the great parade, +with old John Burt, chief marshal, titupping to the grunt of brass +horns, stirred only perfunctory applause. The shouts for Avon's +stalwart fifty, with their mascot gander waddling on the right flank, +were evidently confined to the Avon excursionists. Starks, Carthage, +Salem, Vienna strode past with various evolutions—open order, fours +by the right, double-quick, and all the rest, but still the heads +turned toward the elm-framed vista of the street. The people were +expecting something. It came.</p> + +<p>Away down the street there sounded—raggity-tag! raggity-tag!—the +tuck of a single drum. Then—pur-r-r-r!</p> + +<p>"There's old Smyrna talkin' up!" shrilled a voice in the crowd.</p> + +<p>And the jubilant plangor of a fife-and-drum corps burst on the +listening ears.</p> + +<p>"And there's his pet elephant for a mascot! How's that for Foreman +Hiram Look and the Smyrna Ancients and Honer'bles?" squealed the +voice once more.</p> + +<p>The drum corps came first, twenty strong, snares and basses rattling +and booming, the fifers with arms akimbo and cheeks like bladders.</p> + +<p>Hiram Look, ex-showman and once proprietor of "Look's Leviathan +Circus and Menagerie," came next, lonely in his grandeur. He wore +his leather hat, with the huge shield-fin hanging down his back, the +word "Foreman" newly lettered on its curved front. He carried two +leather buckets on his left arm, and in his right hand flourished +his speaking-trumpet. The bed-wrench, chief token of the antiquity +of the Ancients, hung from a cord about his neck, and the huge bag, +with a puckering-string run about its mouth, dangled from his waist.</p> + +<p>At his heels shambled the elephant, companion of his circus +wanderings, and whose old age he had sworn to protect and make +peaceful. A banner was hung from each ear, and she slouched along +at a brisk pace, in order to keep the person of her lord and master +within reach of her moist and wistful trunk. She wore a blanket on +which was printed: "Imogene, Mascot of the Smyrna Ancients." Imogene +was making herself useful as well as ornamental, for she was +harnessed to the pole of "Hecla Number One," and the old tub +"ruckle-chuckled" along at her heels on its little red trucks. From +its brake-bars hung the banners won in the past-and-gone victories +of twenty years of musters. Among these was one inscribed +"Champions."</p> + +<p>And behind Hecla marched, seventy-five strong, the Ancients of +Smyrna, augmented, by Hiram Look's enterprise, until they comprised +nearly every able-bodied man in the old town.</p> + +<p>To beat and pulse of riotous drums and shrilling fifes they were +roaring choruses. It was the old war song of the organization, +product of a quarter-century of rip-roaring defiance, crystallized +from the lyrics of the hard-fisted.</p> + +<p>They let the bass drums accent for them.</p> + +<p> "Here wec-come from old Sy-myrná<br> + Here wec-come with Hecly One;<br> + She's the prunes for a squirt, gol durn her—<br> + We've come down for fight or fun.<br> + Shang, de-rango! We're the bo-kay,<br> + Don't giveadam for no one no way.</p> + +<p> "Here wec-come—sing old A'nt Rhody!<br> + See old Hecly paw up dirt.<br> + Stuff her pod with rocks and sody,<br> + Jee-ro C'ris'mus, how she'll squirt!<br> + Rip-te-hoo! And a hip, hip, holler,<br> + We'll lick hell for a half a dollar!"</p> + +<p>The post-office windows rattled and shivered in the sunshine. Horses +along the line of march crouched, ducked sideways, and snorted in +panic. Women put their fingers in their ears as the drums passed. +And when at the end of each verse the Ancients swelled their +red-shirted bosoms and screamed, Uncle Trufant hissed in the ear of +his nearest neighbor on the post-office steps: "The only thing we +need is the old Vienny company here to give 'em the stump! Old Vienny, +as it used to be, could lick 'em, el'funt and all."</p> + +<p>The Smyrna Ancients were file-closers of the parade; Hiram Look had +chosen his position with an eye to effect that made all the other +companies seem to do mere escort duty. The orderly lines of +spectators poured together into the street behind, and went elbowing +in noisy rout to the village square, the grand rallying-point and +arena of the day's contests. There, taking their warriors' ease +before the battle, the Ancients, as disposed by their assiduous +foreman, continued the centre of observation.</p> + +<p>Uncle Brad Trufant, nursing ancient memories of the prowess of +Niagara and the Viennese, voiced some of the sentiment of the envious +when he muttered: "Eatin', allus eatin'! The only fire they can +handle is a fire in a cook-stove."</p> + +<p>On this occasion Foreman Look had responded nobly to the well-known +gastronomic call of his Ancients. No one understood better than he +the importance of the commissary in a campaign. The dinner he had +given the Ancients to celebrate his election as foreman had shown +him the way to their hearts.</p> + +<p>Bringing up the rear had rumbled one of his circus-vans. Now, with +the eyes of the hungry multitude on him, he unlocked the doors and +disclosed an interior packed full of individual lunch-baskets. His +men cheered lustily and formed in line.</p> + +<p>Foreman Look gazed on his cohorts with pride and fondness.</p> + +<p>"Gents," he said, in a clarion voice that took all the bystanders +into his confidence, "you're never goin' to make any mistake in +followin' me. Follow me when duty calls—follow me when pleasure +speaks, and you'll always find me with the goods."</p> + +<p>He waved his hand at the open door of the van.</p> + +<p>Two ladies had been awaiting the arrival of the Ancients in the square, +squired by a stout man in blue, who scruffed his fingers through his +stubbly gray beard from time to time with no great ease of manner. +Most of the spectators knew him. He was the first selectman of Smyrna, +Cap'n Aaron Sproul. And when the ladies, at a signal from Foreman +Look, took stations at the van door and began to distribute the +baskets, whisperings announced that they were respectively the wives +of Cap'n Sproul and the foreman of Hecla One. The ladies wore red, +white, and blue aprons, and rosettes of patriotic hues, and their +smiling faces indicated their zest in their duties.</p> + +<p>Uncle Trufant, as a hound scents game, sniffed Cap'n Sproul's uneasy +rebelliousness, and seemed to know with a sixth sense that only +Hiram's most insistent appeals to his friendship, coupled with the +coaxings of the women-folk, had dragged him down from Smyrna. Uncle +Trufant edged up to him and pointed wavering cane at the festive scene +of distribution.</p> + +<p>"Seems to be spendin' his money on 'em, all free and easy, Cap'n."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n scowled and grunted.</p> + +<p>"It's good to have a lot of money like he's got. That's the kind of +a foreman them caterpillars is lookin' for. But if greenbacks growed +all over him, like leaves on a tree, they'd keep at him till they'd +gnawed 'em all off."</p> + +<p>He glowered at the briskly wagging jaws and stuffed cheeks of the +feeding protégés of Foreman Look.</p> + +<p>"I reckon he'll wake up some day, same's you did, and reelize what +they're tryin' to do to him. What you ought to done was settle in +Vienny. We've heard out our way how them Smyrna bloodsuckers have—"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul whirled on the ancient detractor, whiskers bristling +angrily. He had never been backward in pointing out Smyrna's faults. +But to have an outsider do it in the open forum of a firemen's muster +was a different matter.</p> + +<p>"Before I started in to criticise other towns or brag about my own, +Trufant," he snorted, "I'd move over into some place where citizens +like you, that's been dead ten years and ought to be buried, ain't +walkin' round because there ain't soil enough left in town to bury +'em in." This was biting reference to Vienna's ledgy surface.</p> + +<p>"I'd ruther walk on granite than have web feet and paddle in muck," +retorted Uncle Trufant, ready with the ancient taunt as to the big +bog that occupied Smyrna's interior.</p> + +<p>"Ducks are good property," rejoined the Cap'n, serenely, "but I never +heard of any one keepin' crows for pets nor raisin' 'em for market. +There ain't anything but a crow will light on your town, and they +only do it because the sight of it makes 'em faint."</p> + +<p>Stimulated because bystanders were listening to the colloquy, Uncle +Trufant shook his cane under Cap'n Sproul's nose.</p> + +<p>"That's what ye be in Smyrna—ducks!" he squealed. "You yourself come +to your own when ye waddled off'm the deck of a ship and settled there. +Down here to-day with an el'funt and what's left of a busted circus, +and singin' brag songs, when there ain't a man in this county but +what knows Smyrna never had the gristle to put up a fight man-fashion +at a firemen's muster. Vienny can shake one fist at ye and run ye +up a tree. Vienny has allus done it. Vienny allus will do it. Ye can't +fight!"</p> + +<p>Hiram had cocked his ear at sound of Uncle Trufant's petulant squeal. +He thrust close to them, elbowing the crowd.</p> + +<p>"Fight! Why, you old black and tan, what has fightin' got to do with +the makin' of a fire department? There's been too much fightin' in +years past. It's a lot of old terriers like you that had made firemen +looked down on. Your idee of fire equipment was a kag of new rum and +plenty of brass knuckles. I can show ye that times has changed! Look +at that picture there!" He waved his hairy hand at the ladies who +were distributing the last of the lunch-baskets. "That's the way to +come to muster—come like gents, act like gents, eat like gents, and +when it's all over march with your lady on your arm."</p> + +<p>"Three cheers for the ladies!" yelled an enthusiastic member of the +Smyrna company. The cheers coming up had to crowd past food going +down, but the effect was good, nevertheless.</p> + +<p>"That's the idea!" shouted Hiram. "Peace and politeness, and +everybody happy. If that kind of a firemen's muster don't suit Vienny, +then her company better take the next train back home and put in the +rest of the day firin' rocks at each other. If Vienny stays here she's +got to be genteel, like the rest of us—and the Smyrna Ancients will +set the pace. Ain't that so, boys?"</p> + +<p>His men yelled jubilant assent.</p> + +<p>Uncle Trufant's little eyes shuttled balefully.</p> + +<p>"Oh, that's it, is it?" he jeered. "I didn't know I'd got into the +ladies' sewin'-circle. But if you've got fancy-work in them +shoppin'-bags of your'n, and propose to set under the trees this +afternoon and do tattin', I wouldn't advise ye to keep singin' that +song you marched in here with. It ain't ladylike. Better sing, 'Oh, +how we love our teacher dear!'"</p> + +<p>"Don't you fuss your mind about us in any way, shape, or manner," +retorted the foreman. "When we march we march, when we eat we eat, +when we sing we sing, when we squirt"—he raised his voice and glared +at the crowd surrounding—"we'll give ye a stream that the whole +Vienny fire company can straddle and ride home on like it was a +hobby-horse." And, concluding thus, he fondled his long mustaches +away from his mouth and gazed on the populace with calm pride. Cæsar +on the plains of Pharsalia, Pompey triumphant on the shores of Africa, +Alexander at the head of his conquering Macedonians had not more +serenity of countenance to display to the multitude.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XIV</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>Up came trotting a brisk little man with a notebook in one hand, a +stubby lead-pencil in the other, a look of importance spread over +his flushed features, and on his breast a broad, blue ribbon, +inscribed: "Chief Marshal."</p> + +<p>"Smyrna has drawed number five for the squirt," he announced, +"fallerin' Vienny. Committee on tub contests has selected Colonel +Gideon Ward as referee."</p> + +<p>Hiram's eyes began to blaze, and Cap'n Sproul growled oaths under +his breath. During the weeks of their growing intimacy the Cap'n had +detailed to his friend the various phases of Colonel Gideon's +iniquity as displayed toward him. Though the affairs of Hiram Look +had not yet brought him into conflict with the ancient tyrant of +Smyrna, Hiram had warmly espoused the cause and the grudge of the +Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"I'll bet a thousand dollars against a jelly-fish's hind leg that +he begged the job so as to do you," whispered Sproul. "I ain't been +a brother-in-law of his goin' on two years not to know his shenanigan. +It's a plot."</p> + +<p>"Who picked out that old cross between a split-saw and a bull-thistle +to umpire this muster?" shouted the foreman of the Ancients, to the +amazement of the brisk little man.</p> + +<p>"Why, he's the leadin' man in this section, and a Smyrna man at that," +explained the marshal. "I don't see how your company has got any kick +comin'. He's one of your own townsmen."</p> + +<p>"And that's why we know him better than you do," protested Hiram, +taking further cue from the glowering gaze of Cap'n Sproul. "You put +him out there with the tape, and you'll see—"</p> + +<p>"'Peace and politeness, and everybody happy,'" quoted Uncle Trufant, +maliciously. The serenity had departed from Foreman Look's face.</p> + +<p>"You don't pretend to tell me, do ye, that the Smyrna Ancients are +afraid to have one of their own citizens as a referee?" demanded the +brisk little man suspiciously. "If that's so, then there must be +something decayed about your organization."</p> + +<p>"I don't think they're down here to squirt accordin' to the rules +made and pervided," went on the ancient Vienna satirist. "They've +brought Bostin bags and a couple of wimmen, and are goin' to have +a quiltin'-bee. P'raps they think that Kunnel Gid Ward don't know +a fish-bone stitch from an over-and-over. P'raps they think Kunnel +Ward ain't ladylike enough for 'em."</p> + +<p>Not only had the serenity departed from the face of Foreman Look, +the furious anger of his notoriously short temper had taken its +place.</p> + +<p>"By the jumped-up jedux," he shouted, "you pass me any more of that +talk, you old hook-nosed cockatoo, and I'll slap your chops!"</p> + +<p>The unterrified veteran of the Viennese brandished his cane to +embrace the throng of his red-shirted townsmen, who had been crowding +close to hear. At last his flint had struck the spark that flashed +with something of the good old times about it.</p> + +<p>"And what do you suppose the town of Vienny would be doin' whilst +you was insultin' the man who was the chief of old Niag'ry Company +for twenty years?" he screamed.</p> + +<p>"There's one elephant that I know about that would be an orphin in +about fifteen seconds," growled one of the loyal members of the +Vienna company, the lust of old days of rivalry beginning to stir +in his blood.</p> + +<p>"Would, hey?" shouted an Ancient, with the alacrity of one who has +old-time grudges still unsettled. He put a sandwich back into his +basket untasted, an ominous sign of how belligerency was overcoming +appetite. "Well, make b'lieve I'm the front door of the orphin asylum, +and come up and rap on me!"</p> + +<p>With a promptitude that was absolutely terrifying the two lines of +red shirts began to draw together, voices growling bodingly, fists +clinching, eyes narrowing with the reviving hatred of old contests. +The triumphal entry of the Smyrna Ancients, their display of +prosperity, their monopoly of the plaudits and attention of the +throngs, the assumption of superior caste and manners, had stirred +resentment under every red shirt in the parade. But Vienna, +hereditary foe, seemed to be the one tacitly selected for the brunt +of the conflict.</p> + +<p>"Hiram!" pleaded his wife, running to him and patting his convulsed +features with trembling fingers. "You said this was all goin' to be +genteel. You said you were goin' to show 'em how good manners and +politeness ought to run a firemen's muster. You said you were!"</p> + +<p>By as mighty an effort of self-control as he ever exercised in his +life, Hiram managed to gulp back the sulphurous vilification he had +ready at his tongue's end, and paused a moment.</p> + +<p>"That's right! I did say it!" he bellowed, his eyes sweeping the crowd +over his wife's shoulder. "And I mean it. It sha'n't be said that +the Smyrna Ancients were anything but gents. Let them that think a +bunged eye and a bloody nose is the right kind of badges to wear away +from a firemen's muster keep right on in their hellish career. As +for us"—he tucked his wife's arm under his own—"we remember there's +ladies present."</p> + +<p>"Includin' the elephant," suggested the irrepressible Uncle Trufant, +indicating with his cane Imogene "weaving" amiably in the sunshine.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul crowded close and growled into the ear of the venerable +mischief-maker: "I don't know who set you on to thorn this crowd of +men into a fight, and I don't care. But there ain't goin' to be no +trouble here, and, if you keep on tryin' to make it, I'll give you +one figger of the Portygee fandle-dingo."</p> + +<p>"What's that?" inquired Uncle Trufant, with interest.</p> + +<p>"An almighty good lickin'," quoth the peacemaker. "I ain't a member +of a fire company, and I ain't under no word of honor not to fight."</p> + +<p>The two men snapped their angry eyes at each other, and Uncle Trufant +turned away, intimidated for the moment. He confessed to himself that +he didn't exactly understand how far a seafaring man could be trifled +with.</p> + +<p>Vienna gazed truculently on Smyrna for a time, but Smyrna, obeying +their foreman's adjurations, mellowed into amiable grins and went +on with their lunches.</p> + +<p>"Where's that Spitz poodle with the blue ribbon?" inquired the Cap'n +of Hiram, having reference to the brisk little man and his side +whiskers. "It don't appear to me that you pounded it into his head +solid enough about our not standin' for Gid Ward."</p> + +<p>In the stress of other difficulties Hiram had forgotten the dispute +that started the quarrel.</p> + +<p>"Don't let's have any more argument, Hiram," pleaded his wife.</p> + +<p>"She's right, Cap'n," said the foreman. "Standin' up for your rights +is good and proper business, but it's a darn slippery place we're +tryin' to stand on. Let the old pirate referee. We can outsquirt 'em. +He won't dast to cheat us. I'm goin' to appoint you to represent +Smyrna up there at the head of the stream. Keep your eye out for a +square deal."</p> + +<p>"I don't know a thing about squirtin', and I won't get mixed in," +protested the Cap'n. But the members of the Smyrna company crowded +around him with appeals.</p> + +<p>"There's only this to know," urged Hiram. "The judges lay down sheets +of brown paper and measure to the farthest drop. All you've got to +do is keep your eye out and see that we get our rights. You'll only +be actin' as a citizen of our town—and as first selectman you can +insist on our rights. And you can do it in a gentlemanly way, +accordin' to the programme we've mapped out. Peace and +politeness—that's the motto for Smyrna."</p> + +<p>And in the end Cap'n Sproul allowed himself to be persuaded.</p> + +<p>But it was scarcely persuasion that did it.</p> + +<p>It was this plaintive remark of the foreman: "Are you goin' to stand +by and see Gideon Ward do us, and then give you the laugh?"</p> + +<p>Therefore the Cap'n buttoned his blue coat tightly and trudged up +to where the committee was busy with the sheets of brown paper, +weighting them with stones so that the July breeze could not flutter +them away.</p> + +<p>Starks, Carthage, and Salem made but passable showing. They seemed +to feel that the crowd took but little interest in them. The listless +applause that had greeted them in the parade showed that.</p> + +<p>Then, with a howl, half-sullen, half-ferocious, Vienna trundled old +Niagara to the reservoir, stuck her intake pipe deep in the water, +and manned her brake-beams. To the surprise of the onlookers her +regular foreman took his station with the rest of the crew. Uncle +Brad Trufant, foreman emeritus, took command. He climbed slowly upon +her tank, braced himself against the bell-hanger, and shook his cane +in the air.</p> + +<p>"Look at me!" he yelled, his voice cracking into a squall. "Look at +me and remember them that's dead and gone, your fathers and your +grands'rs, whose old fists used to grip them bars right where you've +got your hands. Think of 'em, and then set your teeth and yank the +'tarnal daylights out of her. Are ye goin' to let me stand here—me +that has seen your grands'rs pump—and have it said that old Niag'ry +was licked by a passul of knittin'-work old-maids, led by an elephant +and a peep-show man? Be ye goin' to let 'em outsquirt ye? Why, the +wimmen-folks of Vienny will put p'isen in your biscuits if you go +home beat by anything that Smyrna can turn out. Git a-holt them bars! +Clench your chaws! Now, damye, ye toggle-j'inted, dough-fingered, +wall-eyed sons of sea-cooks, give her tar—<i>give</i>—<i>her</i>—<i>tar!</i>"</p> + +<p>It was the old-fashioned style of exordium by an old-fashioned +foreman, who believed that the best results could be obtained by the +most scurrilous abuse of his men—and the immediate efforts of Vienna +seemed to endorse his opinion.</p> + +<p>With the foreman marking time with "Hoomp!—hoomp!" they began to +surge at the bars, arms interlaced, hands, brown and gristly, +covering the leather from end to end. The long, snaking hose filled +and plumped out with snappings.</p> + +<p>Uncle Trufant flung his hat afar, doubled forward, and with white +hair bristling on his head began to curse horribly. Occasionally he +rapped at a laggard with his cane. Then, like an insane +orchestra-leader, he sliced the air about his head and launched fresh +volleys of picturesque profanity.</p> + +<p>Old Niagara rocked and danced. The four hosemen staggered as the +stream ripped from the nozzle, crackling like pistol discharges. +There was no question as to Uncle Trufant's ability to get the most +out of the ancient pride of Vienna. He knew Niagara's resources.</p> + +<p>"Ease her!" he screamed, after the first dizzy staccato of the beams. +"Ease her! Steady! Get your motion! Up—down! Up—down! Get your +motion! Take holt of her! Lift her! Now—now—<i>now!</i> For the last +ounce of wickin' that's in ye! Give her—<i>hell!</i>"</p> + +<p>It was the crucial effort. Men flung themselves at the beams. Legs +flapped like garments on a clothes-line in a crazy gale. And when +Uncle Trufant clashed the bell they staggered away, one by one, and +fell upon the grass of the square.</p> + +<p>"A hundred and seventeen feet, eight inches and one-half!" came the +yell down the line, and at the word Vienna rose on her elbows and +bawled hoarse cheers.</p> + +<p>The cheer was echoed tumultuously, for every man in the crowd of +spectators knew that this was full twenty feet better than the record +score of all musters—made by Smyrna two years before, with wind and +all conditions favoring.</p> + +<p>"That's what old times and old-fashioned cussin' can do for ye," +declared Uncle Trufant.</p> + +<p>A man—a short, squat man in a blue coat—came pelting down the street +from the direction of the judges. It was Cap'n Aaron Sproul. People +got out of his way when they got a glimpse of the fury on his face. +He tore into the press of Smyrna fire-fighters, who were massed about +Hecla, their faces downcast at announcement of this astonishing +squirt.</p> + +<p>"A hunderd and seventeen northin'! A hunderd and seventeen +northin'!" Cap'n Sproul gasped over and over. "I knowed he was in +to do us! I see him do it! It wa'n't no hunderd and seventeen! It's +a fraud!"</p> + +<p>"You're a liar!" cried Uncle Trufant, promptly. But the Cap'n refused +to be diverted into argument.</p> + +<p>"I went up there to watch Gid Ward, and I watched him," he informed +the Ancients. "The rest of 'em was watchin' the squirt, but I was +watchin' that land-pirut. I see him spit on that paper twenty feet +further'n the furthest drop of water, and then he measured from that +spit. That's the kind of a man that's refereein' this thing. He's +here to do us! He's paying off his old town-meetin' grudge!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I can't think that of my brother!" cried the Cap'n's wife.</p> + +<p>"Remember, Hiram, that you've agreed—" began the cautious spouse +of the foreman, noting with alarm the rigid lines beginning to crease +her husband's face.</p> + +<p>"There ain't no mistake about his measurin' to that spit?" demanded +Hiram of the Cap'n, in the level tones of one already convinced but +willing to give the accused one a last chance.</p> + +<p>"He done it—I swear he done it."</p> + +<p>"I'd thought," pursued the foreman of the Ancients, "that a firemen's +muster could be made genteel, and would make a pleasant little trip +for the ladies. I was mistaken." At the look in his eyes his wife +began eager appeal, but he simply picked her up and placed her in +the van from which the lunch-baskets had been taken. "There's Mis' +Look," he said to the Cap'n. "She'll be glad to have the company of +Mis' Sproul."</p> + +<p>Without a word the Cap'n picked up Louada Murilla and placed her +beside the half-fainting Mrs. Look. Hiram closed the doors of the +van.</p> + +<p>"Drive out about two miles," he ordered the man on the box, "and then +let the ladies git out and pick bokays and enjoy nature for the rest +of the afternoon. It's—it's—apt to be kind of stuffy here in the +village."</p> + +<p>And the van rumbled away down the street toward the vista framed in +the drooping elms.</p> + +<p>"Now, gents," said Hiram to his men, "if this is a +spittin'-at-a-crack contest instead of a tub-squirt, I reckon we'd +better go to headquarters and find out about it."</p> + +<p>But at Smyrna's announced determination to raid the referee, Vienna +massed itself in the way. It began to look like the good old times, +and the spectators started a hasty rush to withdraw from the scene.</p> + +<p>But Vienna was too openly eager for pitched battle.</p> + +<p>To stop then and give them what they had been soliciting all day +seemed too much like gracious accommodation in the view of Foreman +Look. His business just at that moment was with Colonel Gideon Ward, +and he promptly thought of a way to get to him.</p> + +<p>At a signal the intelligent Imogene hooped her trunk about him and +hoisted him to her neck. Then she started up the street, brandishing +the trunk before her like a policeman's billy and "roomping" in +hoarse warning to those who encumbered her path.</p> + +<p>A charge led by an elephant was not in the martial calculations of +the Viennese. They broke and fled incontinently.</p> + +<p>Perhaps Colonel Gideon Ward would have fled also, but the crowd that +had gathered to watch the results of the hose-play was banked closely +in the street.</p> + +<p>"Make way!" bellowed Foreman Look. "There's only one man I want, and +I'm goin' to have him. Keep out of my road and you won't get hurt. +Now, Colonel Gideon Ward," he shouted, from his grotesque mount, as +that gentleman, held at bay partly by his pride and partly by the +populace, came face to face with him, "I've been in the circus +business long enough to know a fake when I see one. You've been caught +at it. Own up!"</p> + +<p>The Colonel snorted indignantly and scornfully.</p> + +<p>"You don't own up, then?" queried Hiram.</p> + +<p>"I'll give you five minutes to stop circusin' and get your tub +astraddle that reservoir," snapped the referee.</p> + +<p>"It occurs to me," went on Hiram, "that you can spit farther if you're +up a tree. We want you to do your best when you spit for us."</p> + +<p>Colonel Ward blinked without appearing to understand.</p> + +<p>But the foreman of the Smyrna Ancients immediately made it evident +that he had evolved a peculiar method of dealing with the case in +hand. He drove Imogene straight at the goggling referee.</p> + +<p>"Up that tree!" roared Hiram. "She'll kill you if you don't."</p> + +<p>Indeed, the elephant was brandishing her trunk in a ferocious manner. +A ladder was leaning against a near-by elm, and Colonel Ward, almost +under the trudging feet of the huge beast, tossed dignity to the winds. +He ran up the ladder, and Imogene, responding to a cuff on her head, +promptly dragged it away from the tree.</p> + +<p>"Only three minutes left to get Hecla into position," Hiram shouted. +"Referee says so. Lively with her!"</p> + +<p>Around and around in a circle he kept Imogene shambling, driving the +crowd back from the tree. The unhappy Colonel was marooned there in +solitary state.</p> + +<p>At first the Vienna company showed a hesitating inclination to +interfere with the placing of Hecla, suspecting something untoward +in the astonishing elevation of the referee. But even Uncle Trufant +was slow to assume the responsibility of interfering with a company's +right of contest.</p> + +<p>The Ancients located their engine, coupled the hose, and ran it out +with alacrity.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Ward," shouted Hiram, "you've tried to do it, but you can't. +If it's got to be dog eat dog, and no gents need apply at a firemen's +muster, then here's where we have our part of the lunch. Did you +measure in twenty extry feet up to your spit mark? Speak up! A quick +answer turneth away the hose!"</p> + +<p>By this time the crew was gently working the brakes of old Hecla. +The hose quivered, and the four men at the nozzle felt it twitching +as the water pressed at the closed valve. They were grinning, for +now they realized the nature of their foreman's mode of persuasion.</p> + +<p>Vienna realized it, too, for with a howl of protest her men came +swarming into the square.</p> + +<p>"Souse the hide off'm the red-bellied sons of Gehenna!" Hiram yelled, +and the hosemen, obedient to the word, swept the hissing stream on +the enemy.</p> + +<p>Men who will face bullets will run from hornets.</p> + +<p>Men who will charge cannon can be routed by water.</p> + +<p>The men at the brakes of old Hecla pumped till the tub jigged on her +trucks like a fantastic dancer. To right, to left, in whooshing +circles, or dwelling for an instant on some particularly +obstreperous Vienna man, the great stream played. Some were knocked +flat, some fell and were rolled bodily out of the square by the stream, +others ran wildly with their arms over their heads. The air was full +of leather hats, spinning as the water struck them. Every now and +then the hosemen elevated the nozzle and gave Colonel Gideon Ward +his share. A half-dozen times he nearly fell off his perch and flapped +out like a rag on a bush.</p> + +<p>"It certainly ain't no place for ladies!" communed Hiram with himself, +gazing abroad from his elevated position on Imogene's neck. "I +thought it was once, but it ain't."</p> + +<p>"Colonel Gideon Ward," he shouted to the limp and dripping figure +in the tree, "do you own up?"</p> + +<p>The Colonel withdrew one arm to shake his fist at the speaker, and +narrowly saved himself by instantly clutching again, for the +crackling stream tore at him viciously.</p> + +<p>"We'll drownd ye where ye hang," roared the foreman of the Ancients, +"before we'll let you or any other pirate rinky-dink us out of what +belongs to us."</p> + +<p>Like some Hindu magician transplanted to Yankeedom he bestrode the +neck of his elephant, and with his hand summoned the waving stream +to do his will. Now he directed its spitting force on the infuriated +Colonel; now he put to flight some Vienna man who plucked up a little +fleeting courage.</p> + +<p>And at last Colonel Ward knuckled. There was nothing else to do.</p> + +<p>"I made a mistake," he said, in a moment of respite from the stream.</p> + +<p>"You spit on the paper and measured in twenty extry feet jest as Cap'n +Aaron Sproul said you did," insisted Hiram. "Say that, and say it +loud, or we'll give old Hecly the wickin' and blow you out of that +tree."</p> + +<p>And after ineffectual oaths the Colonel said it—said it twice, and +the second time much the louder.</p> + +<p>"Then," bellowed the triumphant Hiram, "the record of old Hecly +Number One still stands, and the championship banner travels back +to Smyrna with us to-night, jest as it travelled down this mornin'."</p> + +<p>"Hain't you goin' to squirt?" asked some one posted safely behind +a distant tree.</p> + +<p>"If you'd been payin' 'tention as you ought to be you'd have jest +seen us squirtin'," replied the foreman of the Ancients with quiet +satire. "And when we squirt, we squirt to win."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Aaron Sproul turned away from a rapt and lengthy survey of +Colonel Ward in the tree.</p> + +<p>"Did you ever ride on an elephant, Cap'n Sproul?" inquired Hiram.</p> + +<p>"Never tried it," said the seaman.</p> + +<p>"Well, I want you to come up here with me. Imogene will h'ist you. +I was thinkin', as it's gettin' rather dull here in the village just +now"—Hiram yawned obtrusively—"we'd go out and join the ladies. +I reckon the company'd like to go along and set on the grass, and +pee-ruse nature for a little while, and eat up what's left in them +lunch-baskets."</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later the Smyrna Ancients and Honorables took their +departure down the street bordered by the elms. Hiram Look and Cap'n +Aaron Sproul swayed comfortably on Imogene's broad back. The +fife-and-drum corps followed, and behind marched the champions, +dragging Hecla Number One on its ruckling trucks.</p> + +<p>Then, with the bass drums punctuating and accenting, they sang:</p> + +<p> "Rip-te-hoo! And a hip, hip, holler!<br> + We'll lick hell for a half a dollar!"</p> + +<p>And it wasn't till then that some bystander tore his attention away +long enough to stick a ladder up the elm-tree and let Colonel Gideon +Ward scrape his way despondently down.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XV</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>Probably Constable Zeburee Nute could not have picked out a moment +more inauspicious for tackling First Selectman Aaron Sproul on +business not immediately connected with the matter then in hand.</p> + +<p>First Selectman Sproul was standing beside a granite post, pounding +his fist on it with little regard to barked knuckles and uttering +some perfectly awful profanity.</p> + +<p>A man stood on the other side of the post, swearing with just as much +gusto; the burden of his remarks being that he wasn't afraid of any +by-joosly old split codfish that ever came ashore—insulting +reference to Cap'n Sproul's seafaring life.</p> + +<p>Behind Cap'n Sproul were men with pickaxes, shovels, and +hoes—listening.</p> + +<p>Behind the decrier of mariners were men with other shovels, hoes, +and pickaxes—listening.</p> + +<p>The granite post marked the town line between Smyrna and Vienna.</p> + +<p>The post was four miles or so from Smyrna village, and Constable Nute +had driven out to interview the first selectman, bringing as a +passenger a slim, pale young man, who was smoking cigarettes, one +after the other.</p> + +<p>They arrived right at the climax of trouble that had been brooding +sullenly for a week. In annual town-meeting Smyrna and Vienna had +voted to change over the inter-urban highway so that it would skirt +Rattledown Hill instead of climbing straight over it, as the fathers +had laid it out in the old days for the sake of directness; forgetting +that a pail bail upright is just as long as a pail bail lying +horizontal.</p> + +<p>First Selectman Sproul had ordered his men to take a certain +direction with the new road in order to avoid some obstructions that +would entail extra expense on the town of Smyrna.</p> + +<p>Selectman Trufant, of Vienna, was equally as solicitous about saving +expense on behalf of his own town, and refused to swing his road to +meet Smyrna's highway. Result: the two pieces of highway came to the +town line and there stopped doggedly. There were at least a dozen +rods between the two ends. To judge from the language that the two +town officers were now exchanging across the granite post, it seemed +likely that the roads would stay separated.</p> + +<p>"Our s'leckman can outtalk him three to one," confided one of the +Smyrna supporters to Constable Nute. "I never heard deep-water +cussin' before, with all the trimmin's. Old Trufant ain't got +northin' but side-hill conversation, and I reckon he's about run +down."</p> + +<p>Constable Nute should have awaited more fitting opportunity, but +Constable Nute was a rather direct and one-ideaed person. As manager +of the town hall he had business to transact with the first selectman, +and he proceeded to transact it.</p> + +<p>"Mister S'leckman," he shouted, "I want to introduce you to +Perfessor—Perfessor—I ain't got your name yit so I can speak it," +he said, turning to his passenger.</p> + +<p>"Professor Derolli," prompted the passenger, flicking his cigarette +ash.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul merely shot one red glance over his shoulder, and then +proceeded with his arraignment of Vienna in general—mentally, +morally, socially, politically, and commercially.</p> + +<p>"The perfessor," bawled Constable Nute, unable to get his team very +near the selectman on account of the upheaved condition of the road, +"has jest arranged with me to hire the town hall for a week, and he +wants to arrange with the selectmen to borrow the use of the graveyard +for a day or so."</p> + +<p>The constable's vociferousness put the Cap'n out of voice, and he +whirled to find that his auditors had lost all interest in the road +dispute, and naturally, too.</p> + +<p>"To borrow the use of the graveyard, said privilege bein' throwed +in, considerin' that he hires the town hall for a week," repeated +the constable.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul hated cigarettes; and he hated slim, pale young men who +dressed foppishly, classing all such under the general term "dude." +The combination of the two, attending the interruption of his +absorbing business of the moment, put a wire edge on his temper.</p> + +<p>"Graveyard! Yes!" he roared. "I'll appoint his funeral for two +o'clock this afternoon, and I'll guarantee to have the corpse ready."</p> + +<p>"In transactin' business it ain't no time for jokin'," protested the +direct Mr. Nute.</p> + +<p>"There's no joke to it," returned the Cap'n, viciously, seizing a +pickaxe.</p> + +<p>"It ain't much of a way for a first selectman of a town to act in +public," persisted Constable Nute, "when town business is put before +him."</p> + +<p>That remark and a supercilious glance from the professor through his +cigarette smoke brought the Cap'n on the trot to the side of the +wagon.</p> + +<p>"I'm 'tendin' to town business—don't you forget that! And I'm +'tendin' to it so close that I ain't got time to waste on any cheap +peep-show critters. Don't want 'em in town. Clear out!"</p> + +<p>"I'll make you sorry for insulting a gentleman," the professor +threatened.</p> + +<p>"Clear out!" insisted the Cap'n. "You ain't got any right drivin' +onto this road. It ain't been opened to travel—"</p> + +<p>"And it looks as though it never would be," remarked Constable Nute, +sarcastically; but, daunted by the glare in the Cap'n's eyes, he +began to turn his horse. "I want you to understand, S'leckman Sproul, +that there are two other s'leckmen in this town, and you can't run +everything, even if you've started in to do it."</p> + +<p>It was pointed reference to the differences that existed in the board +of selectmen, on account of Cap'n Sproul's determination to command.</p> + +<p>Two very indignant men rode away, leaving a perfectly furious one +standing in the road shaking his fists after them. And he was the +more angry because he felt that he had been hastier with the constable +than even his overwrought state of mind warranted. Then, as he +reflected on the graveyard matter, his curiosity began to get the +better of his wrath, and to the surprise of his Vienna antagonist +he abandoned the field without another word and started for Smyrna +village with his men and dump-carts.</p> + +<p>But dump-carts move slowly, and when the Cap'n arrived at the town +house Constable Zeburee Nute was nailing up a hand-bill that +announced that Professor Derolli, the celebrated hypnotist, would +occupy the town hall for a week, and that he would perform the +remarkable feat of burying a subject in the local graveyard for +forty-eight hours, and that he would "raise this subject from the +dead," alive and well. The ink was just dry on a permit to use the +graveyard, signed by Selectmen Batson Reeves and Philias Blodgett. +The grim experiment was to wind up the professor's engagement. In +the mean time he was to give a nightly entertainment at the hall, +consisting of hypnotism and psychic readings, the latter by "that +astounding occult seer and prophetess, Madame Dawn."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul went home growling strong language, but confessing to +himself that he was a little ashamed to enter into any further contest +with the cigarette-smoking showman and the two men who were the +Cap'n's hated associates on the board of selectmen.</p> + +<p>That evening neighbor Hiram Look called with Mrs. Look on their way +to the village to attend the show, but Cap'n Sproul doggedly resisted +their appeals that he take his wife and go along, too. He opposed +no objection, however, when Louada Murilla decided that she would +accept neighbor Look's offer of escort.</p> + +<p>But when she came back and looked at him, and sighed, and sighed, +and looked at him till bedtime, shaking her head sadly when he +demanded the reason for her pensiveness, he wished he had made her +stay at home. He decided that Zeburee Nute had probably been busy +with his tongue as to that boyish display of temper on the Rattledown +Hill road.</p> + +<p>Hiram Look came over early the next morning and found the Cap'n +thinning beets in his garden. The expression on the visitor's face +did not harmonize with the brightness of the sunshine.</p> + +<p>"I don't blame you for not goin'," he growled. "But if you had an +idea of what they was goin' to do to get even, I should 'a' most +thought you'd 'a' tipped me off. It would have been the part of a +friend, anyway."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n blinked up at him in mute query.</p> + +<p>"It ain't ever safe to sass people that's got the ear of the public, +like reporters and show people," proceeded Hiram, rebukingly. "I've +been in the show business, and I know. They can do you, and do you +plenty, and you don't stand the show of an isuckle in a hot spider."</p> + +<p>"What are ye tryin' to get through you, anyway?" demanded the first +selectman.</p> + +<p>"Hain't your wife said northin' about it?"</p> + +<p>"She's set and looked at me like I was a cake that she'd forgot in +the oven," confided the Cap'n, sullenly; "but that's all I know about +it."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's about what I've had to stand in my fam'ly, too. I tell +ye, ye hadn't ought to have sassed that mesmerist feller. Oh, I heard +all about it," he cried, flapping hand of protest as the Cap'n tried +to speak. "I don't know why you done it. What I say is, you ought +to have consulted me. I know show people better'n you do. Then you +ain't heard northin' of what she said?"</p> + +<p>"If you've got anything to tell me, why in the name of the three-toed +Cicero don't you tell it?" blurted the Cap'n, indignantly.</p> + +<p>He got up and brushed the dirt off his knees. "If there's anything +that stirs my temper, it's this mumble-grumble, whiffle-and-hint +business. Out and open, that's my style." He was reflecting testily +on the peculiar reticence of his wife.</p> + +<p>"I agree with you," replied Hiram, calmly. But his mind was on another +phase of the question. "If she had been out and open it wouldn't have +been so bad. It's this hintin' that does the most mischief. Give folks +a hint, and a nasty imagination will do the rest. That's the way she's +workin' it."</p> + +<p>"She? Who?"</p> + +<p>"Your mesmerist fellow's runnin' mate—that woman that calls herself +Madame Dawn, and reads the past and tells the future."</p> + +<p>"There ain't nobody can do no such thing," snapped Cap'n Sproul. +"They're both frauds, and I didn't want 'em in town, and I was right +about it."</p> + +<p>"Bein' as how I was in the show business thirty years, you needn't +feel called on to post me on fakes," said Hiram, tartly. "But the +bigger the fake is the better it catches the crowd. If she'd simply +been an old scandal-monger at a quiltin'-bee and started a story +about us, we could run down the story and run old scandal-grabber +up a tree. But when a woman goes into a trance and a sperit comes +teeterin' out from the dark behind the stage and drops a white robe +over her, and she begins to occult, or whatever they call it, and +speaks of them in high places, and them with fat moneybags, and that +ain't been long in our midst, and has come from no one jest knows +where, and that she sees black shadders followin' 'em, along with +wimmen weepin' and wringin' of their hands—well, when a woman sets +on the town-hall stage and goes on in that strain for a half-hour, +it ain't the kind of a show that I want to be at—not with my wife +and yourn on the same settee with me."</p> + +<p>He scowled on the Cap'n's increasing perturbation.</p> + +<p>"A man is a darned fool to fight a polecat, Cap'n Sproul, and you +ought to have known better than to let drive at him as you did."</p> + +<p>"She didn't call names, did she?" asked the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Call names! Of course she didn't call names. Didn't have to. There's +the difference between scandal and occultin'. We can't get no bind +on her for what she said. Now here are you and me, back here to settle +down after roamin' the wide world over; jest got our feet placed, +as you might say, and new married to good wimmen—and because we're +a little forehanded and independent, and seem to be enjoyin' life, +every one is all ready to believe the worst about us on general +principles. Mossbacks are always ready to believe that a man that's +travelled any has been raising seventeen kinds of tophet all his life. +All she had to do was go into a trance, talk a little Injun, and then +hint enough to set their imaginations to workin' about us. Up to now, +judgin' by the way she's been lookin' at me, my wife believes I've +got seven wives strewed around the country somewhere, either alive +or buried in cellars. As to your wife, you bein' a seafarin' character, +she's prob'ly got it figgered that a round-up of your fam'ly circle, +admittin' all that's got a claim on you, would range all the way from +a Hindu to a Hottentot, and would look like a congress of nations. +In about two days more—imagination still workin', and a few old she +devils in this place startin' stories to help it along—our wives +will be hoppin' up every ten minutes to look down the road and see +if any of the victims have hove in sight. And what can we do?"</p> + +<p>Hiram lunged a vigorous kick straight before him.</p> + +<p>"Find me that hole I just made in the air and I'll tell you, Cap'n," +he added, with bitter irony.</p> + +<p>"It's—it's worse than what I figgered on," remarked the Cap'n, +despondently, after a thoughtful pause. "If a woman like Louada +Murilla will let herself get fooled and stirred up in that kind of +a way by a fly-by-night critter, there ain't much hope of the rest +of the neighborhood."</p> + +<p>"It's a kind of lyin' that there ain't no fightin'," Hiram asserted. +"And there are certain ones in this place that will keep it in the +air. Now I didn't sass that mesmerist. But I got it about as tough +as you did. I'll bet a thousand to one that Bat Reeves is gettin' +back at me for cuttin' him out with the widder. It's reasonable," +he declared, warming to the topic and checking items off on his stubby +fingers. "Here's your mesmerist rushin' hot to Reeves complainin' +about you and gettin' a permit from Reeves, along with a few pointers +about you for occult use. Reeves hates you bad enough, but he hates +me worse. And he sees to it that I get occulted, too. He ain't lettin' +a chance like that slip past as soon as that perfessor lets him see +what occultin' will do to a man. Why, condemn his hide and haslet, +I believe he swapped that permit for a dose of so much occultin'—and +I've got the dose."</p> + +<p>"I should hate at my age to have to start in and go to sea again," +mourned the Cap'n, after long meditation; "but I reckon I'll either +have to do that or go up in a balloon and stay there. There's too +many tricks for me on land. They ring in all they can think of +themselves, and then they go to work and get a ghost to help. I can't +whale the daylights out of the ghost, and I don't suppose it would +be proper for a first selectman to cuff the ears of the woman that +said females was followin' me, wailin' and gnashin' their teeth, but +I can lick that yaller-fingered, cigarette-suckin' dude, and pay the +fine for so doin'—and reckon I've got my money's worth."</p> + +<p>"You need a guardeen," snorted Hiram. "She will put on her robe and +accuse you of havin' the ghost of a murdered man a-chasin' you."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n grew white under his tan at this remark, made by Hiram in +all guilelessness, and the memory of a certain Portuguese sailor, +slipped overboard after a brief but busy mutiny, went shuddering +through his thoughts.</p> + +<p>"Ain't got anything like that on your conscience, have you?" demanded +the old showman, bluntly.</p> + +<p>"She didn't say anything only about women, did she?" evaded the +Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Didn't notice anything last night. She may be savin' something else +for this evenin'," was Hiram's consoling answer. His air and the +baleful glance he bent on his neighbor indicated that he still held +that irascible gentleman responsible for their joint misfortune. And, +to show further displeasure, he whirled and stumped away across the +fields toward his home.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Aaron Sproul attended the show at the town hall that evening.</p> + +<p>He went alone, after his wife had plaintively sighed her refusal to +accompany him. He hadn't intended to go. But he was drawn by a certain +fatal fascination. He had a sailor's superstitious half-belief in +the supernatural. He had caught word during the day of some +astonishing revelations made by the seeress as to other persons in +town, either by lucky guess or through secret pre-information, as +his common sense told him. And yet his sneaking superstition +whispered that there was "something in it, after all." If that +mesmerist's spirit of retaliation should carry him to the extent of +hinting about that Portuguese sailor, Cap'n Sproul resolved to be +in that hall, ready to stand up and beard his defamers.</p> + +<p>Evidently Professor Derolli spotted his enemy; for Madame Dawn, in +order that vengeance should be certain of its mark, repeated the +vague yet perfectly obvious hints of the preceding evening; and Cap'n +Sproul was thankful for the mystic gloom of the hall that hid his +fury and his shame. He stole out of the place while the lights were +still low. He feared for his self-restraint if he were to remain, +and he realized what a poor figure he would make standing up there +and replying to the malicious farrago of the woman under the veil.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XVI</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>For the rest of the professor's engagement Cap'n Aaron Sproul and +Hiram Look kept sullenly to their castles, nursing indignant sense +of their wrongs. They got an occasional whiff of the scandal that +was pursuing their names. Though their respective wives strove with +pathetic loyalty to disbelieve all that the seeress had hinted at, +and moved in sad silence about their duties, it was plain that the +seed of evil had been planted deep in their imaginations. Poor human +nature is only what it is, after all!</p> + +<p>"Two better women never lived than them of ourn, and two that would +be harder to turn," said Hiram to the Cap'n, "but it wouldn't be human +nature if they didn't wonder sometimes what we'd been up to all them +years before we showed up here, and what that cussed occulter said +has torched 'em on to thinkin' mighty hard. The only thing to do is +to keep a stiff upper lip and wait till the clouds roll by. They'll +come to their senses and be ashamed of themselves, give 'em time and +rope enough."</p> + +<p>Second Selectman Batson Reeves busied himself as a sort of master +of ceremonies for Professor Derolli, acted as committee of +investigation when the professor's "stock subject" remained for a +day and night in a shallow trench in the village cemetery, and even +gave them the best that his widower's house could afford at a Sunday +dinner.</p> + +<p>In the early flush of an August morning about a week after the +departure of the hypnotic marvel and his companions, a mutual impulse +seemed to actuate Selectman Sproul and Hiram Look at a moment +surprisingly simultaneous. They started out their back doors, took +the path leading over the hill between their farms, and met under +the poplars at a point almost exactly half-way. It would be difficult +to state which face expressed the most of embarrassed concern as they +stood silently gazing at each other.</p> + +<p>"I was comin' over to your house," said Hiram.</p> + +<p>"I was startin' for yourn," said the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>Then both, like automatons pulled by the same string, dove hand into +breast-pocket and pulled out a crumpled letter.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'll be dummed!" quoth the two in one voice.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand northin' about it," said Hiram, plaintively. +"But whatever it is, it has put me in a devil of a fix."</p> + +<p>"If you're havin' any more trouble to your house than I'm havin' over +to mine, then you've somethin' that I don't begrudge you none," added +the Cap'n, gloomily.</p> + +<p>"Woman left it," related Hiram. "It was in the edge of the evenin', +and I hadn't come in from the barn. Woman throwed it onto the piazza +and run. Reckon she waited her chance so't my wife would get holt +of it. She did. She read it. And it's hell 'n' repeat on the Look +premises."</p> + +<p>"Ditto and the same, word for word," said the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"The handwritin' ain't much different," said the ex-showman, +clutching Sproul's letter and comparing the two sheets. "But it's +wimmen's work with a pen—there ain't no gettin' round that."</p> + +<p>Then his voice broke into quavering rage as he went on.</p> + +<p>"You jest think of a lovin', trustin', and confidin' woman gettin' +holt of a gob of p'isen like that!" He shook the crackling sheet over +his head. "'Darlin' Hiram, how could you leave me, but if you will +come away with me now all will be forgiven and forgotten, from one +who loves you truly and well, and has followed you to remind you of +your promise.' My Gawd, Cap'n, ain't that something to raise a +blister on the motto, 'God Bless Our Home'?"</p> + +<p>"It's done it over to my house," said the Cap'n, lugubriously.</p> + +<p>"There never was any such woman—there never could have been any such +woman," Hiram went on in fervid protest. "There ain't nobody with +a license to chase me up."</p> + +<p>"Ditto and the same," chimed in Cap'n Sproul.</p> + +<p>"No one!"</p> + +<p>"No one!" echoed the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>They stood and looked at each other a little while, and then their +eyes shifted in some embarrassment.</p> + +<p>"Of course," said Hiram, at last, moderating his tone of indignation, +"when a man ain't had no anchor he might have showed attentions such +as ladies expect from gents, and sometimes rash promises is made. +Now, perhaps—you understand I'm only supposin'—perhaps you've got +some one in mind that might have misjudged what you said to her—some +one that's got a little touched in her head, perhaps, and she's come +here. In that case it might give us a clue if you're a mind to own +up."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n flushed at this clumsy attempt of Hiram to secure a +confidence.</p> + +<p>"Seein' that you've thought how it might be done all so quick and +handy, showin' what's on your mind, I reckon you'd better lay down +cards first," he said, significantly.</p> + +<p>"I think it's jest a piece of snigdom by some one tryin' to hurt us," +proceeded Hiram, boring the Cap'n with inquisitive gaze. "But you +never can tell what's what in this world, and so long as we're looking +for clues we might as well have an understandin', so's to see if +there's any such thing as two wimmen meetin' accidental and comparin' +notes and gettin' their heads together."</p> + +<p>"None for me," said the Cap'n, but he said it falteringly.</p> + +<p>"Well, there's none for me, either, but there's such a thing as havin' +what you've said misjudged by wimmen. Where the wimmen ain't +strong-headed, you know." He hesitated for a time, fiddling his +forefinger under his nose. "There was just one woman I made talk to +in my life such as a gent shouldn't have made without backin' it up. +If she'd been stronger in her head I reckon she'd have realized that +bein' sick, like I was, and not used to wimmen, and bein' so grateful +for all her care and attention and kindness and head-rubbin', I was +sort of took unawares, as you might say. A stronger-headed woman +would have said to herself that it wasn't to be laid up against me. +But as soon as I got to settin' up and eatin' solid food I could see +that she was sappy, and prob'ly wanted to get out of nussin' and get +married, and so she had it all written down on her nuss-diary what +I said, mixed in with temperature, pulse, and things. I—"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul's eyes had been widening, and his tongue was nervously +licking wisps of whisker between his lips.</p> + +<p>"Was that in a Bost'n horsepittle?" he asked, with eager interest.</p> + +<p>"That's where. In the fall three years ago. Pneumony."</p> + +<p>"Mine was rheumatic fever two years ago," said the Cap'n. "It's what +drove me off'm deep water. She was fat, wasn't she, and had light +hair and freckles across the bridge of her nose, and used to set side +of the bed and hum: 'I'm a pilgrim, faint and weary'?"</p> + +<p>"Damme if you didn't ring the bell with that shot!" cried the old +showman in astonishment.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's just ditto and the same with me," said the Cap'n, rapping +his knuckles on his breast. "Same horsepittle, same nuss, same thing +generally—only when I was sickest I told her I had property wuth +about thutty thousand dollars."</p> + +<p>"So did I," announced Hiram. "It's funny that when a man's drunk or +sick he's got to tell first comers all he knows, and a good deal more!" +He ran his eyes up and down over Cap'n Sproul with fresh interest. +"If that don't beat tophet! You and me both at that horsepittle and +gettin' mixed up with the same woman!"</p> + +<p>"This world ain't got no special bigness," said the Cap'n. "I've +sailed round it a dozen times, and I know."</p> + +<p>The showman grasped the selectman by the coat-lapel and demanded +earnestly: "Didn't you figger it as I did, when you got so you could +set up and take notice, that she wasn't all right in her head?"</p> + +<p>"Softer'n a jelly-fish!" declared the Cap'n, with unction.</p> + +<p>"Then she's got crazier, and up all of a sudden and followed us—and +don't care which one she gets!"</p> + +<p>"Or else got sensibler and remembered our property and come around +to let blood."</p> + +<p>"Bound to make trouble, anyway."</p> + +<p>"She's made it!" The Cap'n turned doleful gaze over his shoulder at +the chimney of his house.</p> + +<p>"Bein' crazy she can make a lot more of it. I tell you, Cap'n, there's +only this to do, and it ought to work with wimmen-folks as sensible +as our'n are. We'll swap letters, and go back home and tell the whole +story and set ourselves straight. They're bound to see the right side +of it."</p> + +<p>"There ain't any reckonin' on what a woman will do," observed the +Cap'n, gloomily. "The theory of tellin' the truth sounds all right, +and <i>is</i> all right, of course. But I read somewhere, once, that a +woman thrives best on truth diluted with a little careful and +judicious lyin'. And the feller seemed to know what he was talkin' +about."</p> + +<p>"It's the truth for me this time," cried Hiram, stoutly.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, ditto and the same for me. But if it's comin' on to blow, +we might as well get another anchor out. I'll start Constable Denslow +'round town to see what he can see. If he's sly enough and she's still +here he prob'ly can locate her. And if he can scare her off, so much +the better."</p> + +<p>Constable Denslow, intrusted with only scant and vague information, +began his search for a supposed escaped lunatic that day. Before +nightfall he reported to the Cap'n that there were no strangers in +town. However, right on the heels of that consoling information came +again that terror who travelled by night! In the dusk of early evening +another letter was left for Aaron Sproul, nor was the domicile of +Hiram Look slighted by the mysterious correspondent.</p> + +<p>Moved by common impulse the victims met in the path across the fields +next morning.</p> + +<p>"Another one of them bumbs dropped at my house last night!" stated +Hiram, though the expression on his countenance had rendered that +information superfluous.</p> + +<p>"Ditto and the same," admitted the Cap'n. "Haven't brought yourn, +have you?"</p> + +<p>"Wife's holdin' onto it for evidence when she gets her bill of +divorce," said Hiram.</p> + +<p>"Ditto with me," affirmed Cap'n Sproul. "Tellin' mine the truth was +what really started her mad up. It was just plain mystery up to that +time, and she only felt sorry. When I told her the truth she said +if it was that bad it would prob'ly turn out to be worse, and so long's +I'd owned up to a part of it I'd better go ahead and tell the rest, +and so on! And now she won't believe anything I try to tell her."</p> + +<p>"Same over to my place," announced his despondent friend.</p> + +<p>"It's your own cussed fault," blazed the Cap'n. "My notion was to +lie to 'em. You can make a lie smooth and convincin'. The truth of +this thing sounds fishy. It would sound fishy to me if I didn't know +it was so."</p> + +<p>"Since I got out of the circus business I've been tryin' to do +business with less lyin', but it doesn't seem to work," mourned Hiram. +"Maybe what's good for the circus business is good for all kinds. +Seems to be that way! Well, when you'd told her the straight truth +and had been as square as you could, what did you say to her when +she flared up?"</p> + +<p>"Northin'," answered the Cap'n. "Didn't seem to be northin' to say +to fit the case."</p> + +<p>"Not after the way they took the truth when it was offered to 'em," +agreed Hiram. "I didn't say anything out loud. I said it to myself, +and it would have broke up the party if a little bird had twittered +it overhead at a Sunday-school picnic."</p> + +<p>That day Jackson Denslow, pricked by a fee of ten dollars, made more +searching investigation. It was almost a census. Absolutely no trace +of such a stranger! Denslow sullenly said that such a domiciliary +visit was stirring up a lot of talk, distrust, and suspicion, and, +as he couldn't answer any questions as to who she was, where she came +from, and what was wanted of her, nor hint as to who his employers +were, it was currently stated that he had gone daffy over the +detective business. His tone of voice indicated that he thought +others were similarly afflicted. He allowed that no detective could +detect until he had all the facts.</p> + +<p>He demanded information and sneered when it was not given.</p> + +<p>It was an unfortunate attitude to take toward men, the triggers of +whose tempers had been cocked by such events as had beset Hiram Look +and Aaron Sproul. Taking it that the constable was trying to pry into +their business in order to regale the public on their misfortunes, +Hiram threw a town-ledger at him, and the Cap'n kicked at him as he +fled through the door of the office.</p> + +<p>That night each was met at the front door by hysterics, and a third +letter. The mystery was becoming eerie.</p> + +<p>"Dang rabbit her miserable pelt!" growled Hiram at the despairing +morning conference under the poplars. "She must be livin' in a hole +round here, or else come in a balloon. I tell you, Cap'n Sproul, it's +got to be stopped some way or the two families will be in the lunatic +asylum inside of a week."</p> + +<p>"Or more prob'ly in the divorce court. Louada Murilla vows and +declares she'll get a bill if I don't tell her the truth, and when +you've told the truth once and sworn to it, and it don't stick, what +kind of a show is a lie goin' to stand, when a man ain't much of a +liar?"</p> + +<p>"If she's goin' to be caught we've got to catch her," insisted Hiram. +"She's crazy, or else she wouldn't be watchin' for us to leave the +house so as to grab in and toss one of them letters. Looks to me it's +just revenge, and to make trouble. The darned fool can't marry both +of us. I didn't sleep last night—not with that woman of mine settin' +and boohooin'. I just set and thought. And the result of the thinkin' +is that we'll take our valises to-day and march to the +railroad-station in the face and eyes of everybody so that it will +get spread round that we've gone. And we'll come back by team from +some place down the line, and lay low either round your premises or +mine and ketch that infernal, frowzle-headed sister of Jim the Penman +by the hind leg and snap her blasted head off."</p> + +<p>"What be you goin' to tell the wimmen?"</p> + +<p>"Tell 'em northin'."</p> + +<p>"There'll be the devil to pay. They'll think we're elopin'."</p> + +<p>"Well, let 'em think," said Hiram, stubbornly. "They can't do any +harder thinkin' than I've been thinkin', and they can't get a divorce +in one night. When we ketch that woman we can preach a sermon to 'em +with a text, and she'll be the text."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul sighed and went for his valise.</p> + +<p>"What she said to me as I come away curled the leaves in the front +yard," confided Hiram, as they walked together down the road.</p> + +<p>"Ditto and the same," mourned the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>At dusk that evening they dismounted from a Vienna livery-hitch on +a back road in Smyrna, paid the driver and dismissed the team, and +started briskly through the pastures across lots toward Hiram Look's +farm.</p> + +<p>An hour later, moving with the stealth of red Indians, they posted +themselves behind the stone wall opposite the lane leading into the +Look dooryard. They squatted there breathing stertorously, their +eyes goggling into the night.</p> + +<p>The Cap'n, with vision trained by vigils at sea, was the first to +see the dim shape approaching. When she had come nearer they saw a +tall feather nodding against the dim sky.</p> + +<p>"Let's get her before she throws the letter—get her with the goods +on her!" breathed Hiram, huskily. And when she was opposite they +leaped the stone wall.</p> + +<p>She had seasonable alarm, for several big stones rolled off the +wall's top. And she turned and ran down the road with the two men +pounding along fiercely in pursuit.</p> + +<p>"My Gawd!" gasped Aaron, after a dozen rods; "talk +about—gayzelles—she's—she's—"</p> + +<p>He didn't finish the sentence, preferring to save his breath.</p> + +<p>But skirts are an awkward encumbrance in a sprinting match. Hiram, +with longer legs than the pudgy Cap'n, drew ahead and overhauled the +fugitive foot by foot. And at sound of his footsteps behind her, and +his hoarse grunt, "I've got ye!" she whirled and, before the amazed +showman could protect himself, she struck out and knocked him flat +on his back. But when she turned again to run she stepped on her skirt, +staggered forward dizzily, and fell in a heap. The next instant the +Cap'n tripped over Hiram, tumbled heavily, rolled over twice, and +brought up against the prostrate fugitive, whom he clutched in a +grasp there was no breaking.</p> + +<p>"Don't let her hit ye," howled Hiram, struggling up. "She's got an +arm like a mule's hind leg."</p> + +<p>"And whiskers like a goat!" bawled the Cap'n, choking in utter +astonishment. "Strike a match and let's see what kind of a +blamenation catfish this is, anyhow."</p> + +<p>And a moment later, the Cap'n's knees still on the writhing figure, +they beheld, under the torn veil, by the glimmer of the match, the +convulsed features of Batson Reeves, second selectman of the town +of Smyrna.</p> + +<p>"Well, marm," remarked Hiram, after a full thirty seconds of amazed +survey, "you've sartinly picked out a starry night for a ramble."</p> + +<p>Mr. Reeves seemed to have no language for reply except some shocking +oaths.</p> + +<p>"That ain't very lady-like talk," protested Look, lighting another +match that he might gloat still further. "You ought to remember that +you're in the presence of your two 'darlin's.' We can't love any one +that cusses. You'll be smokin' a pipe or chawin' tobacker next." He +chuckled, and then his voice grew hard. "Stop your wigglin', you +blasted, livin' scarecrow, or I'll split your head with a rock, and +this town will call it good reddance. Roll him over onto his face, +Cap'n Sproul."</p> + +<p>A generous strip of skirt, torn off by Reeves's boot, lay on the +ground. Hiram seized it and bound the captive's arms behind his back. +"Now let him up, Cap," he commanded, and the two men helped the +unhappy selectman to his feet.</p> + +<p>"So it's you, hey?" growled Hiram, facing him. "Because I've come +here to this town and found a good woman and married her, and saved +her from bein' fooled into marryin' a skunk like you, you've put up +this job, hey? Because Cap'n Sproul has put you where you belong in +town business, you're tryin' to do him, too, hey? What do you reckon +we're goin' to do with you?"</p> + +<p>It was evident that Mr. Reeves was not prepared to state. He +maintained a stubborn silence.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul had picked up the hat with the tall feather and was +gingerly revolving it in his hands.</p> + +<p>"You're a nice widderer, you are!" snorted Hiram. "A man that will +wear a deceased's clothes in order to help him break up families and +spread sorrow and misery round a neighborhood, would be a second +husband to make a woman both proud and pleased. Cap'n, put that hat +and veil back onto him. I'll hold him."</p> + +<p>Mr. Reeves consented to stand still only after he had received a +half-dozen open-handed buffets that made his head ring.</p> + +<p>"There!" ejaculated Hiram, after the Cap'n's unaccustomed fingers +had arranged the head-gear. "Bein' that you're dressed for company, +we'll make a few calls. Grab a-holt, Cap'n."</p> + +<p>"I'll die in my tracks right here, first," squalled Reeves, guessing +their purpose. But he was helpless in their united clutch. They +rushed him up the lane, tramped along the piazza noisily, jostled +through the front door, and presented him before Hiram's astounded +wife.</p> + +<p>"Mis' Look," said her husband, "here's the lady that's in love with +me, and that has been leavin' me letters. It bein' the same lady that +was once in love with you, I reckon you'll appreciate my feelin's +in the matter. There's just one more clue that we need to clinch this +thing—and that's another one of those letters. The Cap'n and I don't +know how to find a pocket in a woman's dress. We're holdin' this lady. +You hunt for the pocket, Mis' Look."</p> + +<p>The amazement on her comely face changed to sudden and indignant +enlightenment.</p> + +<p>"The miserable scalawag!" she cried. The next instant, with one +thrust of her hand, she had the damning evidence. There were two +letters.</p> + +<p>"She ain't delivered the one to darlin' Cap'n Sproul this evenin'," +Hiram remarked, persisting still in his satiric use of the feminine +pronoun. "If you'll put on your bonnet, Mis' Look, we'll all sa'nter +acrost to the Cap'n's and see that Louada Murilla gets hers. Near's +I can find out, the rules of this special post-office is that all +love-letters to us pass through our wives' hands."</p> + +<p>In the presence of Mrs. Sproul, after the excitement of the dramatic +entrance had subsided, the unhappy captive attempted excuses, +cringing pitifully.</p> + +<p>"I didn't think of it all by myself," he bleated. "It was what the +Dawn woman said, and then when I mentioned that I had some grudges +agin' the same parties she wrote the notes, and the perfessor planned +the rest, so't we could both get even. But it wasn't my notion. I +reckon he mesmerized me into it. I ain't to blame. Them mesmerists +has awful powers."</p> + +<p>"Ya-a-a-as, that's probably just the way of it!" sneered Hiram, with +blistering sarcasm. "But you'll be unmesmerized before we get done +with you. There's nothin' like makin' a good job of your cure, seein' +that you was unfort'nit' enough to get such a dose of it that it's +lasted you a week. Grab him, Cap'n."</p> + +<p>"What be ye goin' to do now?" quavered Reeves.</p> + +<p>"Take you down into the village square, and, as foreman of the Ancient +and Honer'ble Firemen's Association, I'll ring the bell and call out +the department, stand you up in front of them all in your flounces +fine, and tell 'em what you've been doin' to their chief. I guess +all the heavy work of gettin' even with you will be taken off'm my +hands after that."</p> + +<p>Reeves groaned.</p> + +<p>"As first selectman," broke in the Cap'n, "and interested in keepin' +bad characters out of town, I shall suggest that they take and ride +you into Vienny on a rail."</p> + +<p>"With my fife and drum corps ahead," shouted Hiram, warming to the +possibilities.</p> + +<p>"I'll die here in my tracks first!" roared the captive.</p> + +<p>"It's kind of apparent that Madame Dawn didn't give you lessons in +prophesyin', along with the rest of her instruction," remarked Hiram. +"That makes twice this evenin' that you've said you were goin' to +die, and you're still lookin' healthy. Come along! Look happy, for +you're goin' to be queen of the May, mother!"</p> + +<p>But when they started to drag him from the room both women interposed.</p> + +<p>"Hiram, dear," pleaded his wife, "please let the man go. Louada +Murilla and I know now what a scalawag he is, and we know how we've +misjudged both you and Cap'n Sproul, and we'll spend the rest of our +lives showin' you that we're sorry. But let him go! If you make any +such uproar as you're talkin' of it will all come out that he made +your wives believe that you were bad men. It will shame us to death, +Hiram. Please let him go."</p> + +<p>"Please let him go, Aaron," urged Mrs. Sproul, with all the fervor +of her feelings. "It will punish him worst if you drop him here and +now, like a snake that you've picked up by mistake."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul and Hiram Look stared at each other a long time, +meditating. They went apart and mumbled in colloquy. Then the Cap'n +trudged to his front door, opened it, and held it open. Hiram cut +the strip that bound their captive's wrists.</p> + +<p>The second selectman had not the courage to raise his eyes to meet +the stares directed on him. With head bowed and the tall feather +nodding over his face he slunk out into the night. And Hiram and the +Cap'n called after him in jovial chorus:</p> + +<p>"Good-night, marm!"</p> + +<p>"This settling down in life seems to be more or less of a complicated +performance," observed Cap'n Sproul when the four of them were alone, +"but just at this minute I feel pretty well settled. I reckon I've +impressed it on a few disturbers in this town that I'm the sort of +a man that's better left alone. It looks to me like a long, calm spell +of weather ahead."</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XVII</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>Mr. Gammon's entrance into the office of the first selectman of +Smyrna was unobtrusive. In fact, to employ a paradox, it was so +unobtrusive as to be almost spectacular.</p> + +<p>The door opened just about wide enough to admit a cat, were that cat +sufficiently slab-sided, and Mr. Gammon slid his lath-like form in +edgewise. He stood beside the door after he had shut it softly behind +him. He gazed forlornly at Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman. +Outside sounded a plaintive "<i>Squawnk!</i>"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul at that moment had his fist up ready to spack it down +into his palm to add emphasis to some particularly violent +observation he was just then making to Mr. Tate, highway "surveyor" +in Tumble-dick District. Cap'n Sproul jerked his chin around over +his shoulder so as to stare at Mr. Gammon, and held his fist poised +in air.</p> + +<p>"<i>Squawnk!</i>" repeated the plaintive voice outside.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gammon had a head narrowed in the shape of an old-fashioned coffin, +and the impression it produced was fully as doleful. His neighbors +in that remote section of Smyrna known as "Purgatory," having the +saving grace of humor, called him "Cheerful Charles."</p> + +<p>The glare in the Cap'n's eyes failed to dislodge him, and the Cap'n's +mind was just then too intent on a certain topic to admit even the +digression of ordering Mr. Gammon out.</p> + +<p>"What in the name of Josephus Priest do I care what the public +demands?" he continued, shoving his face toward the lowering +countenance of Mr. Tate. "I've built our end of the road to the +town-line accordin' to the line of survey that's best for this town, +and now if Vienny ain't got a mind to finish their road to strike +the end of our'n, then let the both of 'em yaw apart and end in the +sheep-pastur'. The public ain't runnin' this. It's <i>me</i>—the first +selectman. You are takin' orders from <i>me</i>—and you want to +understand it. Don't you nor any one else move a shovelful of dirt +till I tell you to."</p> + +<p>Hiram Look, retired showman and steady loafer in the selectman's +office, rolled his long cigar across his lips and grunted +indorsement.</p> + +<p>"<i>Squawnk!</i>" The appeal outside was a bit more insistent.</p> + +<p>Mr. Gammon sighed. Hiram glanced his way and noted that he had a noose +of clothes-line tied so tightly about his neck that his flabby dewlap +was pinched. He carried the rest of the line in a coil on his arm.</p> + +<p>"Public says—" Mr. Tate began to growl.</p> + +<p>"Well, what does public say?"</p> + +<p>"Public that has to go around six miles by crossro'ds to git into +Vienny says that you wa'n't elected to be no crowned head nor no +Seizer of Rooshy!" Mr. Tate, stung by memories of the taunts flung +at him as surveyor, grew angry in his turn. "I live out there, and +I have to take the brunt of it. They think you and that old fool of +a Vienny selectman that's lettin' a personal row ball up the bus'ness +of two towns are both bedeviled."</p> + +<p>"She's prob'ly got it over them, too," enigmatically observed Mr. +Gammon, in a voice as hollow as wind in a knot-hole.</p> + +<p>This time the outside "<i>Squawnk</i>" was so imperious that Mr. Gammon +opened the door. In waddled the one who had been demanding +admittance.</p> + +<p>"It's my tame garnder," said Mr. Gammon, apologetically. "He was +lonesome to be left outside."</p> + +<p>A fuzzy little cur that had been sitting between Mr. Tate's +earth-stained boots ran at the gander and yapped shrilly. The big +bird curved his neck, bristled his feathers, and hissed.</p> + +<p>"Kick 'em out of here!" snapped the Cap'n, indignantly.</p> + +<p>"Any man that's soft-headed enough to have a gander followin' him +round everywhere he goes ought to have a guardeen appointed," +suggested Mr. Tate, acidulously, after he had recovered his dog and +had cuffed his ears.</p> + +<p>"My garnder is a gent side of any low-lived dog that ever gnawed +carrion," retorted Mr. Gammon, his funereal gloom lifting to show +one flash of resentment.</p> + +<p>"Look here!" sputtered the Cap'n, "this ain't any Nat'ral History +Convention. Shut up, I tell ye, the two of you! Now, Tate, you can +up killick and set sail for home. I've given you your course, and +don't you let her off one point. You tell the public of this town, +and you can stand on the town-line and holler it acrost into Vienny, +that the end of that road stays right there."</p> + +<p>Mr. Tate, his dog under his arm, paused at the door to fling over +his shoulder another muttered taunt about "bedevilment," and +disappeared.</p> + +<p>"Now, old button on a graveyard gate, what do you want?" demanded +Cap'n Sproul, running eye of great disfavor over Mr. Gammon and his +faithful attendant. He had heard various reports concerning this +widower recluse of Purgatory, and was prepared to dislike him.</p> + +<p>"I reckoned she'd prob'ly have it over you, too," said Mr. Gammon, +drearily. "It's like her to aim for shinin' marks."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul blinked at him, and then turned dubious gaze on Hiram, +who leaned back against the whitewashed wall, nesting his head +comfortably in his locked fingers.</p> + +<p>"If she's bedeviled me and bedeviled you, there ain't no tellin' +where she'll stop," Mr. Gammon went on. "And you bein' more of a +shinin' mark, it will be worse for you."</p> + +<p>"Look here," said the first selectman, squaring his elbows on the +table and scowling on "Cheerful Charles," "if you've come to me to +get papers to commit you to the insane horsepittle, you've proved +your case. You needn't say another word. If it's any other business, +get it out of you, and then go off and take a swim with your old +web-foot—<i>there!</i>"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gammon concealed any emotion that the slur provoked. He came +along to the table and tucked a paper under the Cap'n's nose.</p> + +<p>"There's what Squire Alcander Reeves wrote off for me, and told me +to hand it to you. He said it would show you your duty."</p> + +<p>The selectman stared up at Mr. Gammon when he uttered the hateful +name of Reeves. Mr. Gammon twisted the noose on his neck so that the +knot would come under his ear, and endured the stare with equanimity.</p> + +<p>With spectacles settled on a nose that wrinkled irefully, the Cap'n +perused the paper, his eyes growing bigger. Then he looked at the +blank back of the sheet, stared wildly at Mr. Gammon, and whirled +to face his friend Look.</p> + +<p>"Hiram," he blurted, "you listen to this: 'Pers'nally appeared +before me this fifteenth day of September Charles Gammon, of Smyrna, +and deposes and declares that by divers arts, charms, spells, and +magic, incantations, and evil hocus-pocus, one—one—'"</p> + +<p>"Arizima," prompted Mr. Gammon, mournfully. The Cap'n gazed on him +balefully, and resumed:</p> + +<p>"'One Arizima Orff has bewitched and bedeviled him, his cattle, his +chattels, his belongings, including one calf, one churn, and various +ox-chains. It is therefore the opinion of the court that the first +selectman of Smyrna, as chief municipal officer, should investigate +this case under the law made and provided for the detection of witches, +and for that purpose I have put this writing in the hands of Mr. Gammon +that he may summon the proper authority, same being first selectman +aforesaid.'"</p> + +<p>"That is just how he said it to me," confirmed "Cheerful Charles." +"He said that it was a thing for the selectman to take hold of without +a minute's delay. I wish you'd get your hat and start for my place +now and forthwith."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul paid no attention to the request. He was searching the +face of Hiram with eyes in which the light was growing lurid.</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' over to his office and hosswhip him, and I want you to +come along and see me do it." He crumpled the paper into a ball, threw +it into a corner, and stumped to the window.</p> + +<p>"It's just as I reckoned," he raged. "He was lookin' out to see how +the joke worked. I see him dodge back. He's behind the curtain in +his office." Again he whirled on Hiram. "After what the Reeves family +has tried to do to us," he declared, with a flourish of his arm +designed to call up in Mr. Look's soul all the sour memories of things +past, "he's takin' his life in his hands when he starts in to make +fun of me with a lunatic and a witch-story."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gammon had recovered the dishonored document, and was smoothing +it on the table.</p> + +<p>"That's twice you've called me a lunatic," he remonstrated. "You call +me that again, and you'll settle for slander! Now, I've come here +with an order from the court, and your duty is laid before you. When +a town officer has sworn to do his duty and don't do it, a citizen +can make it hot for him." Mr. Gammon, his bony hands caressing his +legal document, was no longer apologetic. "Be you goin' to do your +duty—yes or no?"</p> + +<p>"If—if—you ain't a—say, what have you got that rope around your +neck for?" demanded the first selectman.</p> + +<p>"To show to the people that if I ain't protected from persecution +and relieved of my misery by them that's in duty bound to do the same, +I'll go out and hang myself—and the blame will then be placed where +it ought to be placed," declared Mr. Gammon, shaking a gaunt finger +at the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>As a man of hard common sense the Cap'n wanted to pounce on the paper, +tear it up, announce his practical ideas on the witchcraft question, +and then kick Mr. Gammon and his gander into the middle of the street. +But as town officer he gazed at the end of that monitory finger and +took second thought.</p> + +<p>And as he pondered, Hiram Look broke in with a word.</p> + +<p>"I know it looks suspicious, comin' from a Reeves," said he, "but +I hardly see anything about it to start your temper so, Cap."</p> + +<p>"Why, he might just as well have sent me a writin' to go out and take +a census of the hossflies between here and the Vienny town-line," +sputtered the first selectman; "or catch the moskeeters in Snell's +bog and paint 'em red, white, and blue. I tell you, it's a dirty, +sneakin', underhand way of gettin' me laughed at."</p> + +<p>"I ain't a humorous man myself, and there ain't no—" began Mr. +Gammon.</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" bellowed the Cap'n. "It was only last week, Hiram, that +that old gob of cat-meat over there that calls himself a lawyer said +I'd taken this job of selectman as a license to stick my nose into +everybody's business in town. Now, here he is, rigging me out with +a balloon-jib and stays'ls"—he pointed a quivering finger at the +paper that Mr. Gammon was nursing—"and sendin' me off on a tack that +will pile me up on Fool Rocks. Everybody can say it of me, then—that +I'm stickin' my nose in. Because there ain't any witches, and never +was any witches."</p> + +<p>"Ain't witches?" squealed Mr. Gammon. "Why, you—"</p> + +<p>But Hiram checked the outburst with flapping palm.</p> + +<p>"Here!" he cried. "The two of you wait just a minute. Keep right still +until I come back. Don't say a word to each other. It will only be +wasting breath."</p> + +<p>He went out, and they heard him clumping up the stairs into the upper +part of the town house.</p> + +<p>He came back with several books in the hook of his arm and found the +two mute and not amiable. He surveyed them patronizingly, after he +had placed the books on the table.</p> + +<p>"Gents, once when I was considerably younger and consequently +reckoned that I knew about all there was to know, not only all the +main points, but all the foot-notes, I didn't allow anybody else to +know anything. And I used to lose more or less money betting that +this and that wasn't so. Then up would come the fellow with the +cyclopedy and his facts and his figgers. At last I was so sure of +one thing that I bet a thousand on it, and a fellow hit me over the +head with every cyclopedy printed since the time Noah waited for the +mud to dry. I got my lesson! After that I took my tip from the men +that have spent time findin' out. I'm more or less of a fool now, +but before that I was such a fool that I didn't know that I didn't +know enough to know that I didn't know."</p> + +<p>"What did you bet on?" inquired the Cap'n, with a gleam of interest.</p> + +<p>"None of your business!" snapped Hiram, a red flush on his cheek. +"But if I'd paid more attention to geography in my school than I did +to tamin' toads and playin' circus I wouldn't have bet."</p> + +<p>He opened one of the books that he had secured in his trip to the +town library.</p> + +<p>"Now, you say offhand, Cap, that there never was such a thing as a +witch. Well, right here are the figgers to show that between 1482 +and 1784 more than three hundred thousand wimmen were put to death +in Europe for bein' witches. There's the facts under 'Witches' in +your own town cyclopedy."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul did not appear to be convinced.</p> + +<p>"There it is, down in black and white," persisted Hiram. "Now, how +about there never bein' any witches?" He tapped his finger on the +open page.</p> + +<p>"If the book says that, witches must be extinker than dodos. Your +cyclopedy don't say anything about any of 'em gettin' away and comin' +over to this country, does it?"</p> + +<p>"Of <i>course</i> we've had 'em in this country," said Hiram, opening +another book. "Caught 'em by the dozen in Salem! Cotton Mather made +a business of it. You don't think a man like Cotton Mather is lettin' +himself be fooled on the witch question, do you? Here's the book he +wrote. A man that's as pious as Cotton Mather ain't makin' up lies +and writin' 'em down, and puttin' himself on record."</p> + +<p>"There's just as many witches to-day as there ever was," cried the +corroborative Mr. Gammon. "The trouble is they ain't hunted out and +brought to book for their infernal actions. There's hundreds and +hundreds of folks goin' through this life pestered all the time with +trouble that's made for 'em by a witch, and they don't know what's +the matter with 'em. But they can't fool me. I know witches when I +see 'em. And when she turns herself into a cat and—"</p> + +<p>"Does <i>what</i>?" demanded the Cap'n, testily.</p> + +<p>"Why, it wa'n't more'n three nights ago that I heard her yowlin' away +in my barn chamber, and there she was, turned into a cat most as big +as a ca'f, and I throwed an iron kittle at her and she come right +through the bottom of it like it was a paper hoop. There, now! What +have you got to say to that?"</p> + +<p>"That you are about as handy a liar as I ever had stand up in front +of me," returned the Cap'n, with animation. He whirled on Hiram and +gesticulated at the books. "Do you mean to tell me that you're +standin' in with him on any such jing-bedoozled, blame' foolishness +as this? I took you to be man-grown."</p> + +<p>"It's always easy enough to r'ar up in this world and blart that +things ain't so," snapped Hiram, with some heat. "Fools do that thing +right along. I don't want you to be that kind. Live and learn."</p> + +<p>"Witches or no witches, cyclopedy or no cyclopedy, what I want to +know is, do you want to have it passed round this community that the +two of us set here—men that have been round this world as much as +we have—and heard a man tell a cat-and-kittle story like that, and +lapped it down? They'll be here sellin' us counterfeit money and gold +bricks next."</p> + +<p>Hiram blinked a little doubtfully at Mr. Gammon, and his rope and +gander, and probably, under ordinary circumstances, would have +flouted that gentleman. But the authority of the encyclopedia gave +his naturally disputatious nature a stimulus not to be resisted. +Beating the page with the back of his hand, he assembled his proof +that there had been witches, that there are witches, and that there +will be more witches in the future. And he wound up by declaring that +Mr. Gammon probably knew what he was talking about—a statement that +Mr. Gammon indorsed with a spirited tale of how his ox-chains had +been turned into mighty serpents in his dooryard, and had thrashed +around there all night to his unutterable distress and alarm. Again +he demanded investigation of his case, and protection by the +authorities.</p> + +<p>In this appeal he was backed by Hiram, who volunteered his assistance +in making the investigation. And in the end, Cap'n Sproul, as first +selectman of Smyrna, consented to visit the scene of alleged +enchantment in "Purgatory," though as private citizen he criticised +profanely the state of mind that allowed him to go on such an errand. +He gnawed his beard, and a flush of something like shame settled on +his cheek. It seemed to him that he was allowing himself to be cajoled +into a mild spree of lunacy.</p> + +<p>"And there bein' no time like the present, and my horse bein' hitched +out there in the shed," advised Hiram, briskly, "why not go now? Did +you ride out from your place or walk?" he inquired of "Cheerful +Charles."</p> + +<p>"Walked," replied Mr. Gammon, dejectedly. "My hoss is bewitched, too. +Can't get him out of the stable."</p> + +<p>"We'll take you along with us," was Hiram's kindly proffer.</p> + +<p>"Him and that gander?" protested the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"I can set in behind with the garnder under my arm," urged Mr. Gammon, +meekly.</p> + +<p>The Cap'n came around the table and angrily twitched the rope off +Mr. Gammon's neck. That much concession to the convenances he +demanded with a vigor that his doleful constituent did not gainsay.</p> + +<p>When they drove away the baleful eye of the first selectman spied +Squire Alcander Reeves furtively regarding them through the dingy +glass of his office window.</p> + +<p>"Me off witch-chasin' and him standin' there grinnin' at it like a +jezeboo!" he gritted. And he surveyed, with no very gracious regard, +his companions in this unspeakable quest.</p> + +<p>When they were well out of the village Mr. Gammon twisted his neck +and sought to impart more information over the back of the seat.</p> + +<p>"I tell you, she's a cooler when it comes to bedevilin'. She had an +old Leghorn hen that a mink killed just after the hen had brought +out a brood of chickens. And what do you s'pose she done? Why, she +went right to work and put a cluck onto the cat, and the cat has +brooded 'em ever since."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n emitted a snort of disgust.</p> + +<p>"And here we are, two sensible men, ridin' around over this town an' +tryin' to make head and tail out of such guff as that! Do you pretend +to tell me for one minute, Hiram Look, that you take any kind of stock +in this sort of thing? Now, just forget that cyclopedy business and +your ancient history for a few minutes and be honest. Own up that +you were arguin' to hear yourself talk, and that you're dragging me +out here to pass away the time."</p> + +<p>Hiram scratched his nose and admitted that now the Cap'n had asked +for friendly candor, he really didn't take much stock in witches.</p> + +<p>"There! I knew it!" cried the selectman, with unction and relief. +"And now that you've had your joke and done with it, let's dump out +old coffin-mug and his gander and turn round and go back about our +business."</p> + +<p>But Hiram promptly whipped along.</p> + +<p>"Oh, thunder!" he ejaculated. "While we're about it, we might as well +see it through. My curiosity is sort of stirred up."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n was angry in good earnest again.</p> + +<p>"Curiosity!" he snarled. "Now you've named it. I wouldn't own up to +bein' such a pickid-nosed old maid as that, not for a thousand +dollars!"</p> + +<p>Hiram was wholly unruffled.</p> + +<p>"How do you suppose any one ever knew enough to write a cyclopedy," +said he, "if they didn't go investigate and find out? They went +official, just as we are goin' now."</p> + +<p>Hiram seemed to take much content in that phase of the situation, +feeling that mere personal inquisitiveness was dignified in this +case under the aegis of law and authority. It was exactly this view +of the matter that most disturbed Cap'n Aaron Sproul, for that +hateful Pharisee, Squire Reeves, had supplied the law to compel his +own authority as selectman.</p> + +<p>He sat with elbows on his knees, gloomily surveying a dim reflection +of himself in the dasher of Hiram's wagon. In pondering on the +trammels of responsibility the sour thought occurred to him, as it +had many times in the past year, that commanding a town was a +different proposition from being ruler of the <i>Jefferson P. Benn</i> +on the high seas—with the odds in favor of the <i>Benn</i>.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XVIII</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>The Cap'n had never visited that retired part of the town called +"Purgatory." He found Mr. Gammon's homestead to be a gray and unkempt +farm-house from which the weather had scrubbed the paint. The +front yard was bare of every vestige of grass and contained a clutter +that seemed to embrace everything namable, including a gravestone.</p> + +<p>"What be ye gettin' ready for—an auction?" growled the Cap'n, +groutily, his seaman's sense of tidiness offended. "Who do you expect +will bid in a second-hand gravestone?"</p> + +<p>"It ain't second-hand," replied the owner, reprovingly, as he eased +himself out of the wagon. "Mis' Gammon, my first wife, is buried there. +'Twas by her request. She made her own layin'-out clothes, picked +her bearers and music, and selected the casket. She was a capable +woman."</p> + +<p>"It's most a wonder to me that he ever took the crape off'm the +door-knob," remarked Hiram, in a husky aside to the Cap'n, not +intending to be overheard and somewhat crestfallen to find that he +had been.</p> + +<p>"I didn't for some time, till it got faded," explained Mr. Gammon, +without display of resentment. "I had the casket-plate mounted on +black velvet and framed. It's in the settin'-room. I'll show it to +you before you leave."</p> + +<p>Hiram pulled his mouth to one side and hissed under shelter of his +big mustache: "Well, just what a witch would want of <i>that</i> feller, +unless 'twas to make cracked ice of him, blame me if I know!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gammon began apprehensive survey of his domains.</p> + +<p>"Let's go home," muttered the Cap'n, his one idea of retreat still +with him. "What do you and I know about witches, anyway, even if there +are such things? We've done our duty! We've been here. If he gets +us to investigatin' it will be just like him to want us to dig that +woman up."</p> + +<p>His appeal was suddenly interrupted. Mr. Gammon, peering about his +premises for fresh evidences of witchcraft accomplished during his +absence, bellowed frantic request to "Come, see!" He was behind the +barn, and they hastened thither.</p> + +<p>"My Gawd, gents, they've witched the ca'f!" Their eyes followed the +direction of his quivering finger.</p> + +<p>A calf was placidly surveying them from among the branches of a +"Sopsy-vine" apple-tree, munching an apple that he had been able to +reach. Whatever agency had boosted him there had left him wedged into +the crotch of the limbs so that he could not move, though he appeared +to be comfortable.</p> + +<p>"It jest takes all the buckram out of me—them sights do," wailed +Mr. Gammon. "I can't climb up there and do it. One of you will have +to." He pulled out a big jackknife, opened it with his yellow teeth, +and extended it.</p> + +<p>"Have to do what?" demanded Hiram.</p> + +<p>"Cut off his ears and tail. That's the only way to get him out from +under the charm."</p> + +<p>But Hiram, squinting up to assure himself that the calf was +comfortable, pushed Mr. Gammon back and made him sit down on a pile +of bean-poles.</p> + +<p>"Better put your hat between your knees," he suggested, noting the +way Mr. Gammon's thin knees were jigging. "You might knock a sliver +off the bones, rappin' them together that way."</p> + +<p>He lighted one of his long cigars, his shrewd eyes searching Mr. +Gammon all the time.</p> + +<p>"Now," said he, tipping down a battered wheelbarrow and sitting on +it, "there's nothin' like gettin' down to cases. We're here official. +The first selectman of this town is here. Go ahead, Cap'n Sproul, +and put your questions."</p> + +<p>"Ask 'em yourself," snorted the Cap'n, with just a flicker of +resentful malice; "you're the witch expert. I ain't."</p> + +<p>"Well," retorted Hiram, with an alacrity that showed considerable +zest for the business in hand, "I never shirked duty. First, what's +her name again—the woman that's doin' it all?"</p> + +<p>"I want you to come and see—" began Mr. Gammon, apparently having +his own ideas as to a witch-hunt, but Hiram shook the big cigar at +him fiercely.</p> + +<p>"We ain't got time nor inclination for inspectin' coffin-plates, +wax-flowers, bewitched iron kittles, balky horses, and old ganders. +Who is this woman and where does she live, and what's the matter with +her?"</p> + +<p>"She's Arizima Orff, and that's her house over the rise of that land +where you can see the chimblys." Mr. Gammon was perfunctory in that +reply, but immediately his little blue eyes began to sparkle and he +launched out into his troubles. "There's them that don't believe in +witches. I know that! And they slur me and slander me. I know it. +I don't get no sympathy. I—"</p> + +<p>"Shut up!" commanded the chief of the inquisition.</p> + +<p>"They say I'm crazy. But I know better. Here I am with rheumaticks! +Don't you s'pose I know where I got 'em? It was by standin' out all +het up where she had hitched me after she'd rid' me to one of the +witch conventions. She—"</p> + +<p>"Say, you look here!" roared the old showman; "you stay on earth. +Don't you try to fly and take us with you. There's the principal +trouble in gettin' at facts," he explained, whirling on the Cap'n. +"Investigators don't get down to cases. Talk with a stutterer, and +if you don't look sharp you'll get to stutterin' yourself. Now, if +we don't look out, Gammon here will have us believin' in witches +before we've investigated."</p> + +<p>"You been sayin' right along that you did believe in 'em," grunted +the first selectman.</p> + +<p>"Northin' of the sort!" declared Hiram. "I was only showin' you that +when you rose up and hollered that there never was any witches you +didn't know what you were talkin' about."</p> + +<p>While Cap'n Sproul was still blinking at him, trying to comprehend +the exact status of Hiram's belief, that forceful inquisitor, who +had been holding his victim in check with upraised and admonitory +digit, resumed:</p> + +<p>"Old maid or widder?"</p> + +<p>"Widder."</p> + +<p>"Did deceased leave her that farm, title clear, and well-fixed +financially?"</p> + +<p>"Yes," acknowledged Mr. Gammon.</p> + +<p>"Now," Hiram leaned forward and wagged that authoritative finger +directly under the other's case-knife nose, "what was it she done +to you to make you get up this witch-story business about her? Here! +Hold on!" he shouted, detecting further inclination on the part of +Mr. Gammon to rail about his bedevilment. "You talk good Yankee +common sense! Down to cases! What started this? You can't fool me, +not for a minute! I've been round the world too much. I know every +fake from a Patagonian cockatoo up to and including the ghost of Bill +Beeswax. She done something to you. Now, what was it?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Gammon was cowed. He fingered his dewlap and closed and unclosed +his lips.</p> + +<p>"Out with it!" insisted Hiram. "If you don't, me and the selectman +will have you sued for slander."</p> + +<p>"Up to a week ago," confessed Mr. Gammon, gazing away from the blazing +eyes of Hiram into the placid orbs of the calf in the tree, "we was +goin' to git married. Farms adjoined. She knowed me and I knowed her. +I've been solemn since Mis' Gammon died, but I've been gittin' over +it. We was goin' to jine farms and I was goin' to live over to her +place, because it wouldn't be so pleasant here with Mis' Gammon—"</p> + +<p>He hesitated, and ducked despondent head in the direction of the +front yard.</p> + +<p>"Well, seconds don't usually want to set in the front parlor window +and read firsts' epitaphs for amusement," remarked Hiram, grimly. +"What then?"</p> + +<p>"Well, then all at once she wouldn't let me into the house, and she +shooed me off'm her front steps like she would a yaller cat, and when +I tried to find out about it that young Haskell feller that she's +hired to do her chores come over here and told me that he wasn't goin' +to stay there much longer, 'cause she had turned witch, and had put +a cluck onto the cat when the old hen—"</p> + +<p>"'Tend to cases! 'Tend to cases!" broke in Hiram, impatiently.</p> + +<p>"And about that time the things began to act out round my place, and +the Haskell boy told me that she was braggin' how she had me +bewitched."</p> + +<p>"And you believed that kind of infernal tomrot?" inquired the showman, +wrathfully. Somewhat to the Cap'n's astonishment, Hiram seemed to +be taking only a sane and normal view of the thing.</p> + +<p>"I did, after I went over and taxed her with it, and she stood off +and pointed her shotgun at me and said that yes, she was a witch, +and if I didn't get away and keep away she would turn me into a +caterpillar and kill me with a fly-spanker. There! When a woman says +that about herself, what be ye goin' to do—tell her she's a liar, +or be a gent and believe her?" Mr. Gammon was bridling a little.</p> + +<p>Hiram looked at "Cheerful Charles" and jerked his head around and +stared at the Cap'n as though hoping for some suggestion. But the +selectman merely shook his head with a pregnant expression of "I told +you so!"</p> + +<p>Hiram got up and stamped around the tree to cover what was evidently +momentary embarrassment. All at once he kicked at something in the +grass, bent over and peered at it, looked up at the calf, then picked +up the object on the ground and stuffed it deep into his trousers +pocket.</p> + +<p>"You said that chore feller's name was Haskell, hey?" he demanded, +returning and standing over Mr. Gammon.</p> + +<p>"Simmy Haskell," said the other.</p> + +<p>"Well, now, what have you done to <i>him</i>?"</p> + +<p>"Nothin'—never—no, sir—never nothin'!" insisted Mr. Gammon, with +such utter conviction that Hiram forebore to question further. He +whirled on his heel and started away toward the chimney that poked +above the rise of land.</p> + +<p>"Come along!" he called, gruffly, over his shoulder, and the two +followed.</p> + +<p>It was a trim little place that was revealed to them. A woman in a +sunbonnet was on her knees near some plants in the cozy front yard, +and a youth was wheeling apples up out of the orchard.</p> + +<p>The youth set down his barrow and surveyed them with some curiosity +as they came up to him, Hiram well ahead, looming with all his six +feet two, his plug-hat flashing in the sun. Hiram did not pause to +palter with the youth. He grabbed him by the back of the neck with +one huge hand, and with the other tapped against the Haskell boy's +nose the object he had picked up from the grass.</p> + +<p>"Next time you put a man's calf up a tree look out that you don't +drop your knife in the wrassle."</p> + +<p>"'Tain't my knife!" gasped the accused.</p> + +<p>"Lie to me, will ye? Lie to me—a man that's associated with liars +all my life? Not your knife, when your name is scratched on the +handle? And don't you know that two officers stood right over behind +the stone wall and saw you do it? Because you wasn't caught in your +cat-yowlin' round and your ox-chain foolishness and your other +didoes, do you think you can fool a detective like me? You come along +to State Prison! I <i>was</i> intendin' to let you off if you owned up +and told all you know—but now that you've lied to me, come along +to State Prison!"</p> + +<p>There was such vengefulness and authority in the big man's visage +that the Haskell boy wilted in unconditional surrender.</p> + +<p>"He got me into the scrape. I'll tell on him. I don't want to go to +State Prison," he wailed, and then confession flowed from him with +the steady gurgle of water from a jug. "He come to me, and he says, +says he, 'He won't ever be no kind of a boss for you. If he marries +her you'll get fed on bannock and salt pork. He's sourer'n +bonny-clabber and meaner'n pig-swill. Like enough he won't keep help, +anyway, and will let everything go to rack and ruin, the same as he +has on his own place. I'm the one to stick to,' says he. 'I've got +a way planned, and all I need is your help and we'll stand together,' +he says, 'and here's ten dollars in advance.' And I took it and done +what he planned. I needed the money, and I done it. He says to me +that we'll do things to him to make him act crazy, and we'll tell +her that he's dangerous, and then you can tell him, says he, that +she's turned witch, and is doin' them things to him; ''cause a man +that has got his first wife buried in front of his doorstep is fool +enough to believe most anything,' says he."</p> + +<p>"Well," remarked Hiram, after a long breath, "this 'sezzer,' whoever +he may be, when he got to sezzin', seems to have made up his mind +that there was one grand, sweet song of love in this locality that +was goin' to be sung by a steam-calliope, and wind up with boiler +bustin'."</p> + +<p>"Why in devilnation don't you ask him who 'twas that engineered it?" +demanded Cap'n Sproul, his eyes blazing with curiosity.</p> + +<p>"An official investigation," declared Hiram, with a relish he could +not conceal, as he returned the Cap'n's earlier taunt upon that +gentleman himself, "is not an old maids' quiltin'-bee, where they +throw out the main point as soon's they get their hoods off, and then +spend the rest of the afternoon talkin' it over. Things has to take +their right and proper course in an official investigation. <i>I'm</i> +the official investigator."</p> + +<p>He turned on Mr. Gammon.</p> + +<p>"What do you think now, old hearse-hoss? Have you heard enough to +let you in on this? Or do you want to be proved out as the original +old Mister Easymark, in a full, illustrated edition, bound in calf? +So fur's I'm concerned, I've heard enough on that line to make me +sick."</p> + +<p>This amazing demolishment of his superstition left Mr. Gammon +gasping. Only one pillar of that mental structure was standing. He +grabbed at it.</p> + +<p>"I didn't believe she was the witch till she told me so herself," +he stammered. "She never lied to me. I believed what she told me with +her own mouth."</p> + +<p>The Haskell boy, still in the clutch of Hiram, evidently believed +that the kind of confession that was good for the soul was full +confession.</p> + +<p>"I told her that the time you was dangerousest was when any one +disputed with you about not havin' the witches. I told her that if +you ever said anything she'd better join in and agree with you, and +humor you, 'cause that's the only way to git along with crazy folks."</p> + +<p>For the first time in many years color showed in the drab cheeks of +the melancholy Mr. Gammon. Two vivid red spots showed that, after +all, it was blood, not water, that flowed in his veins.</p> + +<p>"Dod lather you to a fritter, you little freckle-faced, snub-nosed +son of seco!" he yelped, shrilly. "I've been a mild and peaceable +man all my life, but I'm a good mind to—I'm a good mind to—" He +searched his meek soul for enormities of retribution, and declared: +"I'm a good mind to skin you, hide, pelt, and hair. I'll cuff your +ears up to a pick, any way!" But Hiram pushed him away when he +advanced.</p> + +<p>"There! That's the way to talk up, Gammon," he said, encouragingly. +"You are showin' improvement. Keep on that way and you'll get to be +quite a man. I was afraid you wasn't anything but a rusty marker for +a graveyard lot. If you don't keep your back up <i>some</i> in this world, +you're apt to get your front knocked in. But I can't let you lick +the boy! This investigation is strictly official and according to +the law, and he's turned State's evidence. It's the other critter +that you want to be gettin' your muscle up for—the feller that was +tryin' to get the widder and the property away from you. All the other +evidence now bein' in, you may tell the court, my son, who was that +'sezzer.' You sha'n't be hurt!"</p> + +<p>"It was Mister Batson Reeves, the second selectman," blurted the +youth.</p> + +<p>There are moments in life when language fails, when words are vain; +when even a whisper would take the edge from a situation. Such a +moment seemed that one when Hiram Look and Cap'n Sproul gazed at each +other after the Haskell boy had uttered that name.</p> + +<p>After a time Hiram turned, seized the boy by the scruff of his coat, +and dragged him up to the front-yard fence, where the widow was gazing +at them with increasing curiosity.</p> + +<p>"Haskell boy," commanded Hiram, "tell her—tell her straight, and +do it quick."</p> + +<p>And when the confession, which went more glibly the second time, was +concluded, the investigator gave the culprit a toss in the direction +of the Gammon farm, and shouted after him: "Go get that calf down +out of that apple-tree, and set down with him and trace out your +family relationship. You'll probably find you're first cousins."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Orff had sunk down weakly on a bed of asters, and was staring +from face to face.</p> + +<p>"Marm," said Hiram, taking off his plug hat and advancing close to +the fence, "Cap'n Sproul and myself don't make it our business to +pry into private affairs, or to go around this town saving decent +wimmen from Batson Reeves. But we seem to have more or less of it +shoved onto us as a side-line. You listen to me! Batson Reeves was +the man that lied to the girl I was engaged to thirty years ago, and +broke us up and kept us apart till I came back here and licked him, +and saved her just in the nick of time. What do you think of a man +of that stamp?"</p> + +<p>"I didn't really like him as well—as well as—" quavered the widow, +her eyes on the appealing orbs of Mr. Gammon; "but I was told I was +in danger, and he wanted to be my protector."</p> + +<p>"Protector!" sneered Hiram. "Since he's been a widderer he's been +tryin' to court and marry every woman in the town of Smyrna that's +got a farm and property. We know it. We can prove it. All he wants +is money! You've just escaped by luck, chance, and the skin of your +teeth from a cuss that northin' is too low for him to lay his hand +to. What do you think of a man that, in order to make trouble and +disgrace for his neighbors, will dress up in his dead wife's clothes +and snoop around back doors and write anonymous letters to confidin' +wimmen?"</p> + +<p>"My Lawd!" gasped the widow.</p> + +<p>"We caught him at it! So, as I say, you've escaped from a hyena. Now, +Mr. Gammon only needs a wife like you to get him out of the dumps."</p> + +<p>Mr. Gammon wiped tears from his cheeks and gazed down on her.</p> + +<p>"Charles," she said, gently, "won't you come into the house for a +few minits? I want to talk to you!"</p> + +<p>But as Mr. Gammon was about to obey joyously, Hiram seized his arm.</p> + +<p>"Just a moment," he objected. "We'll send him right in to you, marm, +but we've got just a little matter of business to talk over with him."</p> + +<p>And when they were behind the barn he took Mr. Gammon by his +coat-collar with the air of a friend.</p> + +<p>"Gammon," said he, "what are you goin' to do to him? Me and the Cap'n +are interested. He'll be comin' here this evenin'. He'll be comin' +to court. Now, what are you goin' to do?"</p> + +<p>There was an expression on Mr. Gammon's face that no one had ever +seen there before. His eyes were narrowed. His pointed tongue licked +his lips. His thin hair bristled.</p> + +<p>"What are you goin' to do to him?"</p> + +<p>"Lick him!" replied Mr. Gammon. It was laconic, but it sounded like +a rat-tail file on steel.</p> + +<p>"You can do it!" said Hiram, cheerfully. "The Cap'n and I both have +done it, and it's no trouble at all. I was in hopes you'd say that!"</p> + +<p>"Lick him till his tongue hangs out!" said Mr. Gammon, with bitterer +venom.</p> + +<p>"That will be a good place to lay for him; right down there by the +alders," suggested the Cap'n, pointing his finger.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir, lick him till his own brother won't know him." And Mr. +Gammon clicked together his bony fists, as hard as flints.</p> + +<p>"And that's another point!" said Hiram, hastily. "You've seen to-day +that I'm a pretty shrewd chap to guess. I've been round the world +enough to put two and two together. Makin' man my study is how I've +got my property. Now, Gammon, you've got that writin' by Squire +Alcander Reeves. When you said 'brother' it reminded me of what I've +been ponderin'. Bat Reeves has been making the Widder Orff matter +a still hunt. His brother wasn't on. When you went to the squire to +complain, squire saw a chance to get the Cap'n into a law +scrape—slander, trespass, malicious mischief—something! Them +lawyers are ready for anything!"</p> + +<p>"Reg'lar sharks!" snapped the selectman.</p> + +<p>"Now," continued Hiram, "after you've got Bat Reeves licked to an +extent that will satisfy inquirin' friends and all parties +interested, you hand that writin' to him! It will show him that his +blasted fool of a lawyer brother, by tryin' to feather his own nest, +has lost him the widder and her property, got him his lickin', and +put him into a hole gen'rally. Tell him that if it hadn't been for +that paper drivin' us out here northin' would have been known."</p> + +<p>Hiram put up his nose and drew in a long breath of prophetic +satisfaction.</p> + +<p>"And if I'm any judge of what 'll be the state of Bat Reeves's feelin's +in general when he gets back to the village, the Reeves family will +finish up by lickin' each other—and when they make a lawsuit out +of that it will be worth while wastin' a few hours in court to listen +to. How do you figger it, Cap'n?"</p> + +<p>"It's a stem-windin', self-actin' proposition that's wound up, and +is now tickin' smooth and reg'lar," said the Cap'n, with deep +conviction. "They'll both get it!"</p> + +<p>And they did.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Aaron Sproul and Hiram Look shook hands on the news before nine +o'clock the next morning.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XIX</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>Mr. Loammi Crowther plodded up the road. Mr. Eleazar Bodge stumped +down the road.</p> + +<p>They arrived at the gate of Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman of +Smyrna, simultaneously.</p> + +<p>Bathed in the benignancy of bland Indian summer, Cap'n Sproul and +his friend Hiram Look surveyed these arrivals from the porch of the +Sproul house.</p> + +<p>At the gate, with some apprehensiveness, Mr. Bodge gave Mr. Crowther +precedence. As usual when returning from the deep woods, Mr. Crowther +was bringing a trophy. This time it was a three-legged lynx, which +sullenly squatted on its haunches and allowed itself to be dragged +through the dust by a rope tied into its collar.</p> + +<p>"You needn't be the least mite afeard of that bobcat," protested Mr. +Crowther, cheerily; "he's a perfick pet, and wouldn't hurt the infant +in its cradle."</p> + +<p>The cat rolled back its lips and snarled. Mr. Bodge retreated as +nimbly as a man with a peg-leg could be expected to move.</p> + +<p>"I got him out of a trap and cured his leg, and he's turrible +grateful," continued Mr. Crowther.</p> + +<p>But Mr. Bodge trembled even to his mat of red beard as he backed away.</p> + +<p>"Him and me has got so's we're good friends, and I call him +Robert—Bob for short," explained the captor, wistfully.</p> + +<p>"You call him off—that's what you call him," shouted Mr. Bodge. "I +hain't had one leg chawed off by a mowin'-machine to let a cust hyeny +chaw off the other. Git out of that gateway. I've got business here +with these gents."</p> + +<p>"So've I," returned Mr. Crowther, meekly; and he went in, dragging +his friend.</p> + +<p>"I done your arrunt," he announced to the Cap'n. "I cruised them +timberlands from Dan to Beersheby, and I'm ready to state facts and +figgers."</p> + +<p>"Go ahead and state," commanded the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"I reckon it better be in private," advised the other, his pale-blue +eyes resting dubiously on Hiram.</p> + +<p>"I ain't got no secrets from him," said the Cap'n, smartly. "Break +cargo!"</p> + +<p>"You'll wish you heard it in private," persisted Mr. Crowther, with +deep meaning. "It ain't northin' you'll be proud of."</p> + +<p>"I'll run along, I guess!" broke in the old showman. "It may be +something—"</p> + +<p>"It ain't," snapped the Cap'n. "It's only about them timberlands that +my wife owned with her brother, Colonel Gideon Ward. Estate wasn't +divided when the old man Ward died, and since we've been married I've +had power of attorney from my wife to represent her." His jaw-muscles +ridged under his gray beard, and his eyes narrowed in angry +reminiscence.</p> + +<p>"We've had two annual settlements, me and her brother. First time +'twas a free fight—next time 'twas a riot—third time, well, if +there had been a third time I'd have killed him. So I saved myself +from State Prison by dividin' accordin' to the map, and then I sent +Crowther up to look the property over. There ain't no secret. You +sit down, Hiram."</p> + +<p>"Considerin' the man, I should think you'd have done your lookin' +over before you divided," suggested the showman. He scented doleful +possibilities in Mr. Crowther's mien.</p> + +<p>"If I'd done business with him fifteen minutes longer by the clock +I'd have been in prison now for murder—and it would have been a +bloody murder at that," blurted the Cap'n. "It had to be over and +done with short and sharp. He took half. I took half. Passed papers. +He got away just before I lost control of myself. Narrowest escape +I ever had. All I know about the part I've got is that it's well wooded +and well watered."</p> + +<p>"It is," agreed Mr. Crowther, despondently. "It's the part where the +big reservoir dam flows back for most twenty miles. You can sail all +over it in a bo't, and cut toothpicks from the tops of the +second-growth birch. He collected all the flowage damages. He's +lumbered the rest of your half till there ain't northin' there but +hoop poles and battens. All the standin' timber wuth anything is on +his half. I wouldn't swap a brimstun' dump in Tophet for your half."</p> + +<p>"How in the devil did you ever let yourself get trimmed that way?" +demanded Hiram. "It's all right for ten-year-old boys to swap +jack-knives, sight unseen, but how a man grown would do a thing like +you done I don't understand."</p> + +<p>"Nor I," agreed the Cap'n, gloomily. "I reckon about all I was +thinkin' of was lettin' him get away before I had blood on my hands. +I'm afraid of my own self sometimes. And it's bad in the family when +you kill a brother-in-law. I took half. He took half. Bein' a +sailorman, I reckoned that land was land, acre for acre."</p> + +<p>"The only man I ever heard of as bein' done wuss," continued Mr. +Crowther, "was a city feller that bought a quarter section of +township 'Leven for a game-preserve, and found when he got up there +that it was made up of Misery Bog and the south slope of Squaw Mountain, +a ledge, and juniper bushes. The only game that could stay there was +swamp-swogons, witherlicks, and doodywhackits."</p> + +<p>"What's them?" inquired the Cap'n, as though he hoped that he might +at least have these tenants on his worthless acres.</p> + +<p>"Woods names for things that there ain't none of," vouchsafed Mr. +Crowther. "You owe me for twenty-two days' work, nine shillin's a +day, amountin' to—"</p> + +<p>"Here! Take that and shut up!" barked the Cap'n, shoving bills at +him. Then he wagged a stubby finger under Mr. Crowther's nose. "Now +you mark well what I say to you! This thing stays right here among +us. If I hear of one yip comin' from you about the way I've been done, +I'll come round to your place and chop you into mince-meat and feed +you to that animile there!"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I'm ashamed enough for you so that I won't ever open my mouth," +cried Mr. Crowther. He went out through the gate, dragging his sulky +captive.</p> + +<p>"And you needn't worry about me, neither," affirmed Mr. Bodge, who +had been standing unnoted in the shadow of the woodbine.</p> + +<p>"Of course," he continued, "I ain't got so thick with either of you +gents as some others has in this place, never likin' to push myself +in where I ain't wanted. But I know you are both gents and willin' +to use them right that uses you right."</p> + +<p>It was not exactly a veiled threat, but it was a hint that checked +certain remarks that the Cap'n was about to address to the +eavesdropper.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodge took advantage of the truce, and seated himself on the edge +of the porch, his peg-leg sticking straight out in forlorn nakedness.</p> + +<p>"Investments is resky things in these days, Cap'n Sproul. +Gold-mines—why, you can't see through 'em, nor the ones that run +'em. And mark what has been done to you when you invested in the forest +primeval! I knowed I was comin' here at just the right time. I've +got a wonderful power for knowin' them things. So I came. I'm here. +You need a good investment to square yourself for a poor one. Here +it is!" He pulled off his dented derby and patted his bald head.</p> + +<p>"Skatin'-rink?" inquired the Cap'n, sarcastically.</p> + +<p>"Brains!" boomed Mr. Bodge, solemnly. "But in these days brains have +to be backed with capital. I've tried to fight it out, gents, on my +own hook. I said to myself right along, 'Brains has got to win in +the end, Bodge. Keep on!' But have they? No! Five hundred partunts, +gents, locked up in the brains of Eleazar Bodge! Strugglin' to get +out! And capital pooled against me! Ignoramuses foolin' the world +with makeshifts because they've got capital behind 'em to boost them +and keep others down—and Bodge with five hundred partunts right here +waitin'." Again he patted the shiny sphere shoved above the riot of +hair and whiskers.</p> + +<p>The Cap'n scrutinized the surface with sullen interest.</p> + +<p>"They'd better stay inside, whatever they are you're talkin' about," +he growled. "They couldn't pick up no kind of a livin' on the +outside."</p> + +<p>"Gents, do you know what's the most solemn sound in all nature?" Mr. +Bodge went on. "I heard it as I came away from my house. It was my +woman with the flour-barrel ended up and poundin' on the bottom with +the rollin'-pin to get out enough for the last batch of biscuit. The +long roll beside the graves of departed heroes ain't so sad as that +sound. I see my oldest boy in the dooryard with the toes of his boots +yawed open like sculpins' mouths. My daughter has outgrown her dress +till she has to wear two sets of wristers to keep her arms warm—and +she looks like dressed poultry. And as for me, I don't dare to set +down enough to get real rested, because my pants are so thin I'm +afraid I can't coax 'em along through next winter. I've come to the +place, gents, where I've give up. I can't fight the trusts any longer +without some backin'. I've got to have somebody take holt of me and +get what's in me out. I reelize it now. It's in me. Once out it will +make me and all them round me rich like a—a—"</p> + +<p>When Mr. Bodge halted for a simile Hiram grunted under his breath: +"Like a compost heap."</p> + +<p>"I was born the way I am—with something about me that the common +run of men don't have. How is it my brains gallop when other brains +creep? It's that mysterious force in me. Seein' is believin'. Proof +is better than talkin'. Cap'n Sproul, you just take hold of one of +my whiskers and yank it out. Take any one, so long's it's a good +lengthy one."</p> + +<p>His tone was that of a sleight-of-hand man offering a pack of cards +for a draw.</p> + +<p>The Cap'n obeyed after Mr. Bodge had repeated his request several +times, shoving his mat of beard out invitingly.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodge took the whisker from the Cap'n's hand, pinched its butt +firmly between thumb and forefinger and elevated it in front of his +face. It stuck straight up. Then it began to bend until its tip almost +touched his lips. A moment thus and it bent in the other direction.</p> + +<p>"There!" cried Mr. Bodge, triumphantly. "Thomas A. Edison himself +couldn't do that with one of his whiskers."</p> + +<p>"You're right," returned Hiram, gravely. "He'd have to borrow one."</p> + +<p>"A man that didn't understand electricity and the forces of nature, +and that real brains of a genius are a regular dynamo, might think +that I done that with my breath. But there is a strange power about +me. All it needs is capital to develop it. You've got the capital, +you gents. This ain't any far-away investment. It's right here at +home. I'm all business when it comes to business." He stuck up a grimy +finger. "You've got to concede the mysterious power because you've +seen it for yourselves. Now you come over to my house with me and +I'll show you a few inventions that I've been able to put into shape +in spite of the damnable combination of the trusts."</p> + +<p>He slid off the porch and started away, beckoning them after him with +the battered derby.</p> + +<p>"I've heard 'em buzz in my time, too," sneered Hiram, pushing back +his plug hat, "but that hummin' is about the busiest yet. He could +hold a lighted taller candle in his hand and jump off'm a roof and +think he was a comet."</p> + +<p>But the Cap'n did not seem to be disposed to echo this scorn.</p> + +<p>"This here I've got may be only a notion, and it prob'ly is," he said, +knotting his gray brows, "and it don't seem sensible. First sight +of him you wouldn't think he could be used. But when I laid eyes on +old Dot-and-carry-one there, and when he grabbed into this thing the +way he did just as I was thinkin' hard of what Colonel Gid Ward has +done to me, it came over me that I was goin' to find a use for him."</p> + +<p>"How?" persisted the utilitarian Hiram.</p> + +<p>"Don't have the least idea," confessed the Cap'n. "It's like pickin' +up a stockin' full of wet mud and walkin' along hopin' that you'll +meet the man you want to swat with it. I'm goin' to pick him up."</p> + +<p>He stumped off the piazza and followed Mr. Bodge. And Hiram, stopping +to relight his cigar, went along, too, reflecting that when a man +has plenty of time on his hands he can afford to spend a little of +it on the gratification of curiosity.</p> + +<p>The first exhibits in the domain of Bodge were not cheering or +suggestive of value. For instance, from among the litter in a +tumble-down shop Mr. Bodge produced something in the shape of a +five-pointed star that he called his "Anti-stagger Shoe."</p> + +<p>"I saw old Ike Bradley go past here with a hard-cider jag that looped +over till its aidges dragged on the ground," he explained. "I tied +cross-pieces onto his feet and he went along all level. Now see how +a quick mind like mine acts? Here's the anti-stagger shoe. To be kept +in all city clubs and et cetry. Let like umbrellas. Five places in +each shoe for a man to shove his foot. Can't miss it. Then he starts +off braced front, sides, and behind."</p> + +<p>Hiram sniffed and the Cap'n was pensive, his thoughts apparently +active, but not concerned in any way with the "Anti-stagger Shoe."</p> + +<p>The "Patent Cat Identifier and Introducer," exhibited in actual +operation in the Bodge home, attracted more favorable attention from +inspecting capital. Mr. Bodge explained that this device allowed a +hard-working man to sleep after he once got into bed, and saved his +wife from running around nights in her bare feet and getting cold +and incurring disease and doctors' bills. It was an admitted fact +in natural history, he stated, that the uneasy feline is either +yowling to be let out or meowing on the window-sill to be let in. +With quiet pride the inventor pointed to a panel in the door, hinged +at the top. This permitted egress, but not ingress.</p> + +<p>"An ordinary, cheap inventor would have had the panel swing both +ways," said Mr. Bodge, "and he would have a kitchen full of strange +cats, with a skunk or two throwed in for luck. You see that I've hinged +a pane of winder-glass and hitched it to a bevelled stick that tips +inward. Cat gets up on the sill outside and meows. Dog runs to the +winder and stands up to see, and puts his paws on the stick because +it's his nature for to do so. Pane tips in. If it's our cat, dog don't +stop her comin' in. If it's a strange cat—br-r-r, wow-wow! Off she +goes!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodge noted with satisfaction the gleam of interest in capital's +eyes.</p> + +<p>"You can reckon that at least a million families in this country own +cats—and the nature of cats and dogs can be depended on to be the +same," said Mr. Bodge. "It's a self-actin' proposition, this +identifier and introducer; that means fortunes for all concerned +just as soon as capital gets behind it. And I've got five hundred +bigger partunts wrasslin' around in my head."</p> + +<p>But Cap'n Sproul continued to be absorbed in thought, as though the +solution of a problem still eluded him.</p> + +<p>"But if capital takes holt of me," proceeded Mr. Bodge, "I want +capital to have the full layout. There ain't goin' to be no reserves, +the same as there is with most of these cheatin' corporations these +days. You come with me."</p> + +<p>They followed him into a scraggly orchard, and he broke a crotched +limb from a tree. With a "leg" of this twig clutched firmly in either +hand he stumped about on the sward until the crotch suddenly turned +downward.</p> + +<p>"There's runnin' water there," announced the wizard, stabbing the +soil with his peg-leg. "I can locate a well anywhere, any place. When +I use willer for a wand it will twist in my hands till the bark peels +off. You see, I'm full of it—whatever it is. I showed you that much +with the whisker. I started in easy with you. It makes me dizzy +sometimes to foller myself. I have to be careful and let out a link +at a time, or I'd take folks right off'm their feet. Now you come +with me and keep cool—or as cool as you can, because I'm goin' to +tell you something that will give you sort of a mind-colic if you +ain't careful how you take it in."</p> + +<p>He pegged ahead of them, led the way around behind a barn that was +skeow-wowed in the last stages of dilapidation, and faced them with +excitement vibrating his streaming whiskers.</p> + +<p>"This, now," he declared, "is just as though I took you into a +national bank, throwed open the safe door, and said: 'Gents, help +yourselves!'"</p> + +<p>He drew a curious object out of the breast pocket of his faded jumper. +It was the tip of a cow's horn securely plugged. Into this plug were +inserted two strips of whalebone, and these he grasped, as he had +clutched the "legs" of the apple-tree wand.</p> + +<p>"One of you lay some gold and silver down on the ground," he requested. +"I'd do it, but I ain't got a cent in my pocket."</p> + +<p>Hiram obeyed, his expression plainly showing his curiosity.</p> + +<p>When Mr. Bodge advanced and stood astride over the money, the cow's +horn turned downward and the whalebone strips twisted.</p> + +<p>"It's a divinin'-rod to find buried treasure," said Mr. Bodge; "and +it's the only one in the world like it, because I made it myself, +and I wouldn't tell an angel the secret of the stuff I've plugged +in there. You see for yourself what it will do when it comes near +gold or silver."</p> + +<p>Hiram turned a cold stare on his wistful eagerness.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what you've got in there, nor why it acts that way," +said the showman, "but from what I know about money, the most of it's +well taken care of by the men that own it; and just what good it's +goin' to do to play pointer-dog with that thing there, and go round +and flush loose change and savin's-banks, is more than I can figger."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodge merely smiled a mysterious and superior smile.</p> + +<p>"Cap'n Sproul," said he, "in your seafarin' days didn't you used to +hear the sailormen sing this?" and he piped in weak falsetto:</p> + +<p> "Oh, I've been a ghost on Cod Lead Nubble,<br> + Sence I died—sence I died.<br> + I buried of it deep with a lot of trouble,<br> + And the chist it was in was locked up double,<br> + And I'm a-watchin' of it still on Cod Lead Nubble,<br> + Sence I died—sence I died."</p> + +<p>"It's the old Cap Kidd song," admitted the Cap'n, a gleam of new +interest in his eyes.</p> + +<p>"As a seafarin' man you know that there was a Cap'n Kidd, don't you?"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul wagged nod of assent.</p> + +<p>"He sailed and he sailed, and he robbed, and he buried his treasure, +ain't that so?"</p> + +<p>"I believe that's the idea," said the Cap'n, conservatively.</p> + +<p>"And it's still buried, because it ain't been dug up, or else we'd +have heard of it. Years ago I read all that hist'ry ever had to say +about it. I said then to myself, 'Bodge,' says I, 'if the treasure +of old Cap Kidd is ever found, it will be you with your wonderful +powers that will find it!' I always said that to myself. I know it +now. Here's the tool." He shook the cow's horn under the Cap'n's nose.</p> + +<p>"Why ain't you been down and dug it up?" asked Hiram, with cold +practicality.</p> + +<p>"Diggin' old Cap Kidd's treasure ain't like digging a mess of +potaters for dinner, Mr. Look. The song says 'Cod Lead Nubble.' Old +Cap Kidd composed that song, and he put in the wrong place just to +throw folks off'm the track. But if I had capital behind me I'd hire +a schooner and sail round them islands down there, one after the +other; and with that power that's in me I could tell the right island +the minute I got near it. Then set me ashore and see how quick this +divinin'-rod would put me over that chist! But it's buried deep. It's +goin' to take muscle and grit to dig it up. But the right crew can +do it—and that's where capital comes in. Capital ain't ever tackled +it right, and that's why capital ain't got hold of that treasure."</p> + +<p>"I reckon I'll be movin' along," remarked Hiram, with resentment +bristling the horns of his mustache; "it's the first time I ever had +a man pick me out as a candidate for a gold brick, and the feelin' +ain't a pleasant one."</p> + +<p>But the Cap'n grasped his arm with detaining grip.</p> + +<p>"This thing is openin' up. It ain't all clear, but it's openin'. I +had instink that I could use him. But I couldn't figger it. It ain't +all straightened out in my mind yet. But when you said 'gold brick' +it seemed to be clearer."</p> + +<p>Hiram blinked inquiringly at his enigmatic friend.</p> + +<p>"It was what I was thinkin' of—gold brick," the Cap'n went on. "I +thought that prob'ly you knew some stylish and reliable +gold-bricker—havin' met same when you was travellin' round in the +show business."</p> + +<p>Replying to Mr. Look's indignant snort Cap'n Sproul hastened to say: +"Oh, I don't mean that you had any gold-bricker friends, but that +you knew one I could hire. Probably, though, you don't know of any. +Most like you don't. I realize that the gold-bricker idea ain't the +one to use. There's the trouble in findin' a reliable one. And even +when the feller got afoul of him, the chances are the old land-pirut +would steal the brick. This here"—jabbing thumb at Mr. Bodge—"is +fresher bait. I believe the old shark will gobble it if he's fished +for right. What's your idea?"</p> + +<p>"Well, generally speakin'," drawled Hiram, sarcastically, "it is +that you've got softenin' of the brain. I can't make head or tail +out of anything that you're sayin'."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul waked suddenly from the reverie in which he had been +talking as much to himself as to Hiram.</p> + +<p>"Say, look here, you can understand this, can't you, that I've been +done out of good property—buncoed by a jeeroosly old hunk of +hornbeam?"</p> + +<p>"Oh, I got bulletins on that, all right," assented Hiram.</p> + +<p>"Well, from what you know of me, do you think I'm the kind of a man +that's goin' to squat like a hen in a dust-heap and not do him? Law? +To Tophet with your law! Pneumony, lightnin', and lawyers—they're +the same thing spelled different. I'm just goin' to do him, that's +all, and instink is whisperin' how." He turned his back on the showman +and ran calculating eye over Mr. Bodge.</p> + +<p>"I don't hardly see how that old hair mattress there is goin' to be +rung in on the deal," growled Hiram.</p> + +<p>"Nor I," agreed the Cap'n, frankly; "not so fur as the details appear +to me just now. But there's something about him that gives me hopes." +He pulled out his wallet, licked his thumb, and peeled off a bill.</p> + +<p>"Bodge, so fur's I can see now, you seem to be a good investment. +I don't know just yet how much it is goin' to take to capitalize you, +but here's ten dollars for an option. You understand now that I'm +president of you, and my friend here is sekertary. And you're to keep +your mouth shut."</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodge agreed with effusive gratitude, and capital went its way. +The inventor chased after them with thumping peg-leg to inquire +whether he should first perfect the model of the "cat identifier," +or develop his idea of an automatic chore-doer, started by the +rooster tripping a trigger as he descended to take his matutinal +sniff of air.</p> + +<p>"You just keep in practise with that thing," commanded the Cap'n, +pointing to the cow's horn.</p> + +<p>"I don't see even yet how you are goin' to do it," remarked Hiram, +as they separated a half-hour later at Cap'n Sproul's gate.</p> + +<p>"Nor I," said the Cap'n; "but a lot of meditation and a little prayer +will do wonders in this world, especially when you're mad enough."</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XX</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>The night seemed to afford counsel, for the next day Cap'n Sproul +walked into the dooryard of Colonel Gideon Ward with features +composed to an almost startling expression of amiability. The +Colonel, haunted by memories and stung by a guilty conscience, +appeared at the door, and his mien indicated that he was prepared +for instant and desperate combat.</p> + +<p>At the end of a half-hour's discourse, wholly by the Cap'n, his face +had lost a measure of its belligerency, but sullen fear had taken +its place. For Cap'n Sproul's theme had been the need of peace and +mutual confidence in families, forbearance and forgetfulness of +injuries that had been mutual. The Cap'n explained that almost always +property troubles were the root of family evils, and that as soon +as property disputes were eliminated in his case, he at once had come +to a realizing sense of his own mistakes and unfair attitude, and +had come to make frank and manly confession, and to shake hands. Would +the Colonel shake hands?</p> + +<p>The Colonel shook hands apprehensively, bending back and ready to +duck a blow. Would the Colonel consent to mutual forgiveness, and +to dwell thereafter in bonds of brotherly affection? The Colonel had +only voiceless stammerings for reply, which the Cap'n translated to +his own satisfaction, and went away, casting the radiance of that +startling amiability over his shoulder as he departed. Colonel Ward +stared after the pudgy figure as long as it remained in sight, +muttering his boding thoughts.</p> + +<p>It required daily visits for a week to make satisfactory impress on +the Colonel's mistrustful fears, but the Cap'n was patient. In the +end, Colonel Ward, having carefully viewed this astonishing +conversion from all points, accepted the amity as proof of the +guileless nature of a simple seaman, and on his own part reciprocated +with warmth—laying up treasures of friendship against that possible +day of discovery and wrath that his guilty conscience suggested.</p> + +<p>If Colonel Ward, striving to reciprocate, had not been so anxious +to please Cap'n Sproul in all his vagaries he would have barked +derisive laughter at the mere suggestion of the Captain Kidd treasure, +to the subject of which the simple seaman aforesaid led by easy stages. +The Colonel admitted that Mr. Bodge had located a well for him by +use of a witch-hazel rod, but allowed that the buried-treasure +proposition was too stiff batter for him to swallow. He did come at +last to accept Cap'n Sproul's dictum that there was once a Captain +Kidd, and that he had buried vast wealth somewhere—for Cap'n Sproul +as a sailorman seemed to be entitled to the possession of authority +on that subject. But beyond that point there was reservation that +didn't fit with Cap'n Sproul's calculations.</p> + +<p>"Blast his old pork rind!" confided the Cap'n to Hiram. "I can circle +him round and round the pen easy enough, but when I try to head him +through the gate, he just sets back and blinks them hog eyes at me +and grunts. To get near him at all I had to act simple, and I reckon +I've overdone it. Now he thinks I don't know enough to know that old +Bodge is mostly whiskers and guesses. He's known Bodge longer'n I +have, and Bodge don't seem to be right bait. I can't get into his +wallet by first plan."</p> + +<p>"It wasn't no kind of a plan, anyway," said Hiram, bluntly. "It +wouldn't be stickin' him good and plenty enough to have Bodge +unloaded onto him, just Bodge and northin' else done. 'Twasn't +complicated enough."</p> + +<p>"I ain't no good on complicated plots," mourned Cap'n Sproul.</p> + +<p>"You see," insisted Hiram, "you don't understand dealin' with jay +nature the same as I do. Takes the circus business to post you on +jays. Once in a while they'll bite a bare hook, but not often. Jays +don't get hungry till they see sure things. Your plain word of old +Cap Kidd and buried treasure sounds good, and that's all. In the +shell-game the best operator lets the edge of the shell rest on the +pea carelesslike, as though he didn't notice it, and then joggles +it down over as if by accident; and, honest, the jay hates to take +the money, it looks so easy! In the candy-game there's nothing doin' +until the jay thinks he catches you puttin' a twenty-dollar bill into +the package. Then look troubled, and try to stop him from buyin' that +package! You ain't done anything to show your brother-in-law that +Bodge ain't a blank."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n turned discouraged gaze on his friend. "I've got to give +it up," he complained. "I ain't crook enough. He's done me, and I'll +have to stay done."</p> + +<p>Hiram tapped the ashes from his cigar, musingly surveyed his diamond +ring, and at last said: "I ain't a butter-in. But any time you get +ready to holler for advice from friends, just holler."</p> + +<p>"I holler," said the Cap'n, dispiritedly.</p> + +<p>"Holler heard by friends," snapped Hiram, briskly. "Friends all +ready with results of considerable meditation. You go right over and +tell your esteemed relative that you're organizin' an expedition to +discover Cap Kidd's treasure, and invite him to go along as member +of your family, free gratis for nothin', all bills paid, and much +obleeged to him for pleasant company."</p> + +<p>"Me pay the bills?" demanded the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Money advanced for development work on Bodge, that's all! To be +taken care of when Bodge is watered ready for sale. Have thorough +understandin' with esteemed relative that no shares in Bodge are for +sale. Esteemed relative to be told that any attempt on the trip to +buy into Bodge will be considered fightin' talk. Bodge and all +results from Bodge are yours, and you need him along—esteemed +relative—to see that you have a square deal. That removes suspicion, +and teases at the same time."</p> + +<p>"Will he go?" asked Cap'n Sproul, anxiously.</p> + +<p>"He will," declared Hiram, with conviction. "A free trip combined +with a chance of perhaps doin' over again such an easy thing as you +seem to be won't ever be turned down by Colonel Gideon Ward."</p> + +<p>At nine o'clock that evening Cap'n Sproul knocked at Hiram Look's +front door and stumped in eagerly. "He'll go!" he reported. "Now let +me in on full details of plan."</p> + +<p>"Details of plan will be handed to you from time to time as you need +'em in your business," said Hiram, firmly. "I don't dare to load you. +Your trigger acts too quick."</p> + +<p>"For a man that is handlin' Bodge, and is payin' all the bills, I +don't seem to have much to do with this thing," grunted the Cap'n, +sullenly.</p> + +<p>"I'll give you something to do. To-morrow you go round town and hire +half a dozen men—say, Jackson Denslow, Zeburee Nute, Brad Wade, Seth +Swanton, Ferd Parrott, and Ludelphus Murray. Be sure they're all +members of the Ancient and Honorable Firemen's Association."</p> + +<p>"Hire 'em for what?"</p> + +<p>"Treasure-huntin' crew. I'll go with you. I'm their foreman, and I +can make them keep their mouths shut. I'll show you later why we'll +need just those kind of men."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n took these orders with dogged resignation.</p> + +<p>"Next day you'll start with Bodge and charter a packet in Portland +for a pleasure cruise—you needin' a sniff of salt air after bein' +cooped up on shore for so long. Report when ready, and I'll come along +with men and esteemed relative."</p> + +<p>"It sounds almighty complicated for a plot," said the Cap'n. In his +heart he resented Hiram's masterfulness and his secretiveness.</p> + +<p>"This ain't no timber-land deal," retorted Hiram, smartly, and with +cutting sarcasm. "You may know how to sail a ship and lick Portygee +sailors, but there's some things that you can afford to take advice +in."</p> + +<p>On the second day Cap'n Sproul departed unobtrusively from Smyrna, +with the radiant Mr. Bodge in a new suit of ready-made clothes as +his seat-mate in the train.</p> + +<p>Smyrna perked up and goggled its astonishment when Hiram Look shipped +his pet elephant, Imogene, by freight in a cattle-car, and followed +by next train accompanied by various tight-mouthed members of the +Smyrna fire department and Colonel Gideon Ward.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul had the topmast schooner <i>Aurilla P. Dobson</i> handily +docked at Commercial Wharf, and received his crew and brother-in-law +with cordiality that changed to lowering gloom when Hiram followed +ten minutes later towing the placid Imogene, and followed by a +wondering concourse of men and boys whom his triumphal parade through +the streets from the freight-station had attracted. With a +nimbleness acquired in years of touring the elephant came on board.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul gazed for a time on this unwieldy passenger, surveying +the arrival of various drays laden with tackle, shovels, mysterious +boxes, and baled hay, and then took Hiram aside, deep discontent +wrinkling his forehead.</p> + +<p>"I know pretty well why you wanted Gid Ward along on the trip. I've +got sort of a dim idea why you invited the Hecly fire department; +and perhaps you know what we're goin' to do with all that dunnage +on them trucks. But what in the devil you're goin' to do with that +cust-fired old elephant—and she advertisin' this thing to the four +corners of God's creation—well, it's got my top-riggin' snarled."</p> + +<p>"Sooner you get your crew to work loadin', sooner you'll get away +from sassy questions," replied Hiram, serenely, wagging his head at +the intrusive crowd massing along the dock's edge. And the Cap'n, +impressed by the logic of the advice, and stung by the manner in which +Hiram had emphasized "sassy questions," pulled the peak of his cap +over his eyes, and became for once more in his life the autocrat of +the quarter-deck.</p> + +<p>An hour later the packet was sluggishly butting waves with her blunt +bows in the lower harbor, Cap'n Sproul hanging to the weather-worn +wheel, and roaring perfectly awful profanity at the clumsy attempts +of his makeshift crew.</p> + +<p>"I've gone to sea with most everything in the line of cat-meat on +two legs," he snarled to Hiram, who leaned against the rail puffing +at a long cigar with deep content, "but I'll be billy-hooed if I ever +saw six men before who pulled on the wrong rope every time, and pulled +the wrong way on every wrong rope. You take them and—and that +elephant," he added, grimly returning to that point of dispute, "and +we've got an outfit that I'm ashamed to have the Atlantic Ocean see +me in company with."</p> + +<p>"Don't let that elephant fuss you up," said Hiram, complacently +regarding Imogene couched in the waist.</p> + +<p>"But there ain't northin' sensible you can do with her."</p> + +<p>Hiram cocked his cigar pertly.</p> + +<p>"A remark, Cap'n Sproul, that shows you need a general manager with +foresight like me. When you get to hoistin' dirt in buckets she'll +be worth a hundred dollars an hour, and beat any steam-winch ever +operated."</p> + +<p>Again the Cap'n felt resentment boil sourly within him. This doling +of plans and plot to him seemed to be a reflection on his +intelligence.</p> + +<p>"Reckon it's buried deep, do you?" inquired Colonel Ward, a flavor +of satiric skepticism in his voice. He was gazing quizzically forward +to where Mr. Bodge sat on the capstan's drumhead, his nose elevated +with wistful eagerness, his whiskers flapping about his ears, his +eyes straight ahead.</p> + +<p>"It's buried deep," said Hiram, with conviction. "It's buried deep, +because there's a lot of it, and it was worth while to bury it deep. +A man like Cap Kidd wa'n't scoopin' out a ten-foot hole and buryin' +a million dollars and goin' off and leavin' it to be pulled like a +pa'snip by the first comer."</p> + +<p>"A million dollars!" echoed the Colonel.</p> + +<p>"Northin' less! History says it. There was a lot of money flyin' +around the world in them days, and Cap Kidd knew how to get holt of +it. The trouble is with people, Colonel, they forget that there was +a lot of gold in the world before the 'Forty-niners' got busy."</p> + +<p>"But Bodge," snorted the Colonel. "He—"</p> + +<p>"Certain men for certain things," declared Hiram, firmly. "Most +every genius is more or less a lunatic. It needed capital to develop +Bodge. It's takin' capital to make Bodge and his idea worth anything. +This is straight business run on business principles! Bodge is like +one of them dirt buckets, like a piece of tackle, like Imogene there. +He's capitalized."</p> + +<p>"Well, he gets his share, don't he?" asked Colonel Ward, his business +instinct at the fore.</p> + +<p>"Not by a blame sight," declared Hiram, to the Cap'n's astonished +alarm. "It would be like givin' a dirt bucket or that elephant a +share."</p> + +<p>When the Cap'n was about to expostulate, Hiram kicked him unobserved +and went on: "I'm bein' confidential with you, Colonel, because +you're one of the family, and of course are interested in seein' your +brother-in-law make good. Who is takin' all the resks? The Cap'n. +Bodge is only a hired man. The Cap'n takes all profits. That's +business. But of course it's between us."</p> + +<p>When Colonel Ward strolled away in meditative mood the Cap'n made +indignant remonstrance.</p> + +<p>"Ain't I got trouble enough on my hands with them six Durham steers +forrads to manage without gettin' into a free fight with old Bodge?" +he demanded. "There ain't any treasure, anyway. You don't believe +it any more'n I do."</p> + +<p>"You're right!" assented Hiram.</p> + +<p>"But Bodge believes it, and when it gets to him that' we're goin' +to do him, you can't handle him any more'n you could a wild hyeny!"</p> + +<p>"When you hollered for my help in this thing," said the old showman, +boring the Cap'n with inexorable eye, "you admitted that you were +no good on complicated plots, and put everything into my hands. It +will stay in my hands, and I don't want any advice. Any time you want +to operate by yourself put me and Imogene ashore and operate."</p> + +<p>For the next twenty-four hours the affairs of the <i>Aurilla P. Dobson</i> +were administered without unnecessary conversations between the +principals.</p> + +<p>On the afternoon of the second day Mr. Bodge, whom no solicitation +could coax from his vigil on the capstan, broke his trance.</p> + +<p>"That's the island," he shouted, flapping both hands to mark his +choice. It wasn't an impressive islet. There were a few acres of sand, +some scraggy spruces, and a thrusting of ledge.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodge was the first man into the yawl, sat in its bow, his head +projected forward like a whiskered figurehead, and was the first on +the beach.</p> + +<p>"He's certainly the spryest peg-legger I ever saw," commented Hiram, +admiringly, as the treasure-hunter started away, his cow's-horn +divining-rod in position. The members of Hecla fire department, glad +to feel land under their country feet once more, capered about on +the beach, surveying the limited attractions with curious eyes. +Zeburee Nute, gathering seaweed to carry home to his wife, stripped +the surface of a bowlder, and called excited attention to an anchor +and a cross rudely hacked into the stone.</p> + +<p>"It's old Cap Kidd's mark," whispered Hiram to Colonel Ward. And with +keen gaze he noted the Colonel's tongue lick his blue lips, and saw +the gold lust beginning to gleam in his eyes.</p> + +<p>Hiram was the only one who noted this fact: that, concealed under +more seaweed, there was a date whose modernity hinted that the +inscription was the work of some loafing yachtsman.</p> + +<p>As he rose from his knees he saw Mr. Bodge pause on a hillock, arms +rigidly akimbo, the point of the cow's horn directed straight down.</p> + +<p>"I've found it!" he squealed. "It's here! Come on, come one, come +all and dig, for God sakes!"</p> + +<p>The excitement of those first few hours was too much for the +self-control of Colonel Gideon Ward's avaricious nature. He +hesitated a long time, blinking hard as each shovelful of dirt +sprayed against the breeze. Then he grasped an opportunity when he +could talk with Cap'n Sproul apart, and said, huskily:</p> + +<p>"It's still all guesswork and uncertain, and you stand to lose a lot +of expense. I know I promised not to talk business with you, but +couldn't you consider a proposition to stand in even?"</p> + +<p>The Cap'n glared on him severely.</p> + +<p>"Do you think it's a decent proposition to step up to me and ask me +to sell you gold dollars for a cent apiece? When you came on this +trip you understood that Bodge was mine, and that he and this scheme +wa'n't for sale. Don't ever mention it again or you and me'll have +trouble."</p> + +<p>And Colonel Ward went back to watch the digging, angry, lusting, and +disheartened.</p> + +<p>The next day the hole was far enough advanced to require the services +of Imogene as bucket-lifter. That docile animal obligingly swam +ashore, to the great admiration of all spectators.</p> + +<p>On that day it was noted first that gloom was settling on the spirits +of Mr. Bodge. The gloom dated from a conversation held very privately +the evening before between Mr. Bodge and Colonel Ward.</p> + +<p>Mr. Bodge, pivoting on his peg-leg, stood at the edge of the deepening +hole with a doleful air that did not accord with his enthusiastic +claims as a treasure-hunter. That night he had another conference +with Colonel Ward, and the next day he stood beside the hole and +muttered constantly in the confidential retirement of his whiskers. +On the third day he had a murderous look in his eyes every time he +turned them in the direction of Cap'n Sproul. On the night of the +fourth day Hiram detected him hopping softly on bare foot across the +cabin of the <i>Dobson</i> toward the stateroom of Cap'n Sproul. He +carried his unstrapped peg-leg in his hand, holding it as he would +a weapon. Detected, he explained to Hiram with guilty confusion that +he was walking in his sleep. The next night, at his own request, he +was left alone on the island, where he might indulge in the frailty +of somnambulism without danger to any one.</p> + +<p>Colonel Ward, having missed his usual private conference with Mr. +Bodge that night, and betraying a certain uneasiness on that account, +gobbled a hurried breakfast, took the dingy, and went ashore alone.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul and Hiram Look, stepping from the yawl upon the beach +a half-hour later, saw the Colonel's gaunt frame outlined against +the morning sun. He was leaning over the hole, hands on his knees, +and appeared to be very intently engaged.</p> + +<p>"There's something underhanded going on here, and I propose to find +out what it is," growled the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Noticed it, have you?" inquired Hiram, cheerfully.</p> + +<p>"I notice some things that I don't talk a whole lot about."</p> + +<p>"I'm glad you have," went on Hiram, serenely overlooking a possible +taunt regarding his own reticence. "It's a part of the plot, and plot +aforesaid is now ripe enough to be picked. Or, to put it another way, +I figger that the esteemed relative has bit and has swallered the +hook."</p> + +<p>"Ain't it about time I got let in on this?" demanded the Cap'n, with +heat.</p> + +<p>With an air as though about to impart a vital secret, Hiram grasped +the Cap'n's arm and whispered: "I'll tell you just what you've got +to do to make the thing go. You say 'Yes' when I tell you to."</p> + +<p>Then he hurried up the hill, Cap'n Sproul puffing at his heels and +revolving venomous thoughts.</p> + +<p>It was a deep hole and a gloomy hole, but when the two arrived at +the edge they could see Mr. Bodge at the bottom. His peg-leg was +unstrapped, and he held it clutched in both hands and brandished it +at them the moment their heads appeared over the edge.</p> + +<p>"And there you be, you robber!" he squalled. "You would pick cents +off'm, a dead man's eyes, and bread out of the mouths of infants." +He stopped his tirade long enough to suck at the neck of a black +bottle.</p> + +<p>"Come on! Come one, come all!" he screamed. "I'll split every head +open. I'll stay here till I starve. Ye'll have to walk over my dead +body to get it."</p> + +<p>"Well, he's good and drunk, and gone crazy into the bargain," snorted +the Cap'n, disgustedly.</p> + +<p>"It's a sad thing," remarked Colonel Ward, his little, hard eyes +gleaming with singular fires, and trying to compose his features. +"I'm afraid of what may happen if any one tries to go down there."</p> + +<p>"I'll come pretty near to goin' down into my own hole if I want to," +blurted the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"I'll kill ye jest so sure's hell's a good place to thaw plumbin'," +cried Mr. Bodge. "I've got ye placed. You was goin' to steal my brains. +You was goin' to suck Bodge dry and laugh behind his back. You're +an old thief and liar."</p> + +<p>"There's no bald-headed old sosh that can call me names—not when +I can stop it by droppin' a rock on his head," stated the Cap'n with +vigor.</p> + +<p>"You don't mean to say you'd hurt that unfortunate man?" inquired +Colonel Ward. "He has gone insane, I think. He ought to be treated +gently. I probably feel different about it than either of you, who +are comparative strangers in Smyrna. But I've always known Eleazar +Bodge, and I should hate to see any harm come to him. As it is, his +brain has been turned by this folly over buried treasure." The +Colonel tried to speak with calmness and dignity, but his tones were +husky and his voice trembled. "Perhaps I can handle him better than +any of the rest of you. I was talkin' with him when you came up."</p> + +<p>"You all go away and leave me with Colonel Gid Ward," bawled Bodge. +"He's the only friend I've got in the world. He'll be good to me."</p> + +<p>"It's pretty bad business," commented Hiram, peering down into the +pit with much apprehension.</p> + +<p>"It's apt to be worse before it's over with," returned the Colonel.</p> + +<p>And, catching a look in Hiram's eyes that seemed to hint at something, +he called the showman aside.</p> + +<p>"I can't talk with my brother-in-law," he began. "He seems to get +very impatient with me when we try to talk business. But I've got +a proposition to make, and perhaps I can make it through you."</p> + +<p>Then, seeing that the Cap'n was bending malevolent gaze on them, he +drew Hiram farther away, and they entered into spirited colloquy.</p> + +<p>"It's this way," reported the showman, returning at last to the Cap'n, +and holding him firmly by the coat lapel. "As you and I have talked +it, you've sort of got cold feet on this treasure proposition." This +was news to the Cap'n, but his eyelids did not so much as quiver. +"Here you are now up against a man that's gone crazy and that's +threatenin' to kill you, and may do so if you try to do more business +with him. Colonel Ward says he's known him a good many years, and +pities him in his present state, and, more than that, has got sort +of interested in this Cap Kidd treasure business himself, and has +a little money he'd like to spend on it—and to help Mr. Bodge. +Proposition by Colonel Ward is that if you'll step out and turn over +Mr. Bodge and this hole to him just as it stands he'll hand you his +check now for fifteen thousand dollars, and"—the showman hastened +to stop the Cap'n's amazed gasping by adding decisively—"as your +friend and general manager of this expedition, and knowin' your +feelin's pretty well, I've accepted and herewith hand you check. +Members of Hecla fire company will please take notice of trade. Do +I state it right, Colonel Ward?"</p> + +<p>The Colonel, with high color mantling his thin cheeks, affirmed +hoarsely.</p> + +<p>"And, bein' induced to do this mostly out of regard for Mr. Bodge, +he thinks it's best for us to sail away so that Mr. Bodge can calm +himself. We'll send a packet from Portland to take 'em off. They would +like to stay here and prospect for a few days. Right, Colonel Ward?"</p> + +<p>The Colonel affirmed once more.</p> + +<p>Casting one more look into the hole, another at his inexplicable +brother-in-law, and almost incredulous gaze at the check in his hand, +Cap'n Sproul turned and marched off down the hill. He promptly went +on board, eager to get that check as far away from its maker as +possible.</p> + +<p>It was an hour later before he had opportunity of a word with Hiram, +who had just finished the embarkation of Imogene.</p> + +<p>"My Gawd, Hiram!" he gasped, "how did you skin this out of him?"</p> + +<p>"I could have got twenty-five thousand just as quick," replied the +showman. "You take a complicated plot like that, and when it does +get ripe it's easy pickin'. When old Dot-and-carry got to pokin' +around in that hole this mornin' and come upon the chist bound with +iron, after scrapin' away about a foot of dirt, he jest naturally +concluded he'd rather be equal partners with Colonel Gid Ward than +be with you what I explained he was to the Colonel."</p> + +<p>"Chist bound with iron?" demanded the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Cover of old planks that Ludelphus and I patched up with strap iron +down in the hold and planted after dark last night. Yes, sir, with +old Bodge standin' there as he was to-day, and reportin' to Ward what +he had under foot, I could have got ten thousand more out of esteemed +relative. But I reckoned that fifteen thousand stood for quite a lot +of profit on timber lands."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n gazed aloft to see that the dingy canvas of the <i>Dobson</i> +was drawing, and again surveyed the check.</p> + +<p>"I reckon I'll cash it in before makin' any arrangements to send a +packet out after 'em," he remarked.</p> + +<p>After a few moments of blissful contemplation he said, with a little +note of regret in his voice: "I wish you had let me know about that +plankin'. I'd have liked to put a little writin' under it—something +sarcastic, that they could sort of meditate on when they sit there +in that hole and look at each other.</p> + +<p>"It was certainly a complicated plot," he went on. "And it had to +be. When you sell a bunch of whiskers and a hole in the ground for +fifteen thousand dollars, it means more brain-work than would be +needed in selling enough gold bricks to build a meetin'-house."</p> + +<p>And with such and similar gratulatory communings they found their +setting forth across the sunlit sea that day an adventuring full of +rich contentment.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XXI</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>"She sails about like a clam-shell in a puddle of Porty Reek +m'lasses," remarked Cap'n Aaron Sproul, casting contemptuous eye +into the swell of the dingy mainsail, and noting the crawl of the +foam-wash under the counter of the <i>Aurilla P. Dobson</i>.</p> + +<p>But he could not infect Hiram Look with his dissatisfaction. The +ex-circus man sat on the deck with his back against the port bulwark, +his knees doubled high before his face as a support for a blank-book +in which he was writing industriously. He stopped to lick the end +of his pencil, and gazed at the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"I was just thinkin' we was havin' about as pleasant a sail as I ever +took," he said. "Warm and sunny, our own fellers on board havin' a +good time, and a complicated plot worked out to the queen's taste."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n, glancing behind, noted that a certain scraggly island had +once more slid into view from behind a wooded head. With his knee +propped against the wheel, he surveyed the island's ridged backbone.</p> + +<p>"Plot seems to be still workin'," he remarked, grimly. "If it was +all worked they'd be out there on them ledges jumpin' about twenty +feet into the air, and hollerin' after us."</p> + +<p>"Let's whoa here and wait for 'em to show in sight," advised Hiram, +eagerly. "It will be worth lookin' at."</p> + +<p>"Hain't no need of slackin' sail," snorted the skipper. "It's about +like bein' anchored, tryin' to ratch this old tin skimmer away from +anywhere. You needn't worry any about our droppin' that island out +of sight right away."</p> + +<p>"For a man that's just got even with Colonel Gideon Ward to the tune +of fifteen thousand dollars, and with the check in your pocket, you +don't seem to be enjoyin' the comforts of religion quite as much as +a man ought to," remonstrated Hiram.</p> + +<p>"It's wadin' a puddle navigatin' this way," complained the Cap'n, +his eyes on the penning shores of the reach; "and it makes me homesick +when I think of my old four-sticker pilin' white water to her +bowsprit's scroll and chewin' foam with her jumper-guys. Deep water, +Hiram! Deep water, with a wind and four sticks, and I'd show ye!"</p> + +<p>"There's something the matter with a man that can't get fun out of +anything except a three-ring circus," said his friend, severely. +"I'm contented with one elephant these days. It's all the +responsibility I want." His eyes dwelt fondly on the placid Imogene, +couchant amidships. Then he lighted a cigar, using his plug hat for +a wind-break, and resumed his labors with the pencil.</p> + +<p>"What be ye writin'—a novel or only a pome?" inquired Cap'n Sproul +at last.</p> + +<p>"Log," replied the unruffled Hiram. "This is the first sea trip I +ever made, and whilst I don't know how to reeve the bowsprit or clew +up the for'rad hatch, I know that a cruise without a log is like +circus-lemonade without a hunk of glass to clink in the mix bowl. +Got it up to date! Listen!"</p> + +<p>He began to read, displaying much pride in his composition:</p> + +<p>"September the fifteen. Got word that Cap'n Aaron Sproul had been +cheated out of wife's interest in timber lands by his brother-in-law, +Colonel Gideon Ward."</p> + +<p>"What in Josephus's name has that got to do with this trip?" demanded +the Cap'n, with rising fire, at this blunt reference to his +humiliation.</p> + +<p>"If it wa'n't for that we wouldn't be on this trip," replied Hiram, +with serene confidence in his own judgment.</p> + +<p>"Well, I don't want that set down."</p> + +<p>"You can keep a log of your own, and needn't set it down." Hiram's +tone was final, and he went on reading:</p> + +<p>"Same date. Discovered Eleazar Bodge and his divinin'-rod. Bought +option on Bodge and his secret of Cap'n Kidd's buried treasure on +Cod Lead Nubble. September the fifteen to seventeen. Thought up plot +to use Bodge to get even with Ward. September the twenty-three. +Raised crew in Smyrna for cruise to Cod Lead, crew consistin' of men +to be depended on for what was wanted—"</p> + +<p>"Not includin' sailin' a vessel," sneered the Cap'n, squinting +forward with deep disfavor to where the members of the Smyrna Ancient +and Honorable Firemen's Association were contentedly fishing over +the side of the sluggish <i>Dobson</i>. "Here, leave hands off'm that +tops'l downhaul!" he yelled, detecting Ludelphus Murray slashing at +it with his jack-knife. "My Gawd, if he ain't cut it off!" he groaned.</p> + +<p>Murray, the Smyrna blacksmith, growled back something about not +seeing what good the rope did, anyway.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul turned his back on the dim gleam of open sea framed by +distant headlands.</p> + +<p>"I'm ashamed to look the Atlantic Ocean in the face, with that bunch +of barn-yarders aboard," he complained.</p> + +<p>"Shipped crew," went on Hiram, who had not paused in his reading. +"Took along my elephant to h'ist dirt. Found Cod Lead Nubble. Began +h'istin' dirt. Dug hole twenty feet deep. Me and L. Murray made fake +treasure-chist cover out of rotten planks. Planted treasure-chist +cover. Let E. Bodge and G. Ward discover same, and made believe we +didn't know of it. Sold out E. Bodge and all chances to G. Ward for +fifteen thousand and left them to dig, promisin' to send off packet +for them. Sailed with crew and elephant to cash check before G. Ward +can get ashore to stop payment. Plot complicated, but it worked, and +has helped to pass away time."</p> + +<p>"That ain't no kind of a ship's log," objected the Cap'n, who had +listened to the reading with an air too sullen for a man who had +profited as much by the plot. "There ain't no mention of wind nor +weather nor compass nor—"</p> + +<p>"You can put 'em all in if you want to," broke in Hiram. "I don't +bother with things I don't know anything about. What I claim is, +here's a log, brief and to the point, and covers all details of plot. +And I'm proud of it. That's because it's my own plot."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n, propping the wheel with his knee, pulled out his wallet, +and again took a long survey of Colonel Ward's check. "For myself, +I ain't so proud of it," he said, despondently. "It seems sort of +like stealin' money."</p> + +<p>"It's a good deal like it," assented Hiram, readily. "But he stole +from you first." He took up the old spy-glass and levelled it across +the rail.</p> + +<p>"That's all of log to date," he mumbled in soliloquy. "Now if I could +see—"</p> + +<p>He uttered an exclamation and peered into the tube with anxiety.</p> + +<p>"Here!" he cried. "You take it, Cap'n. I ain't used to it, and it +wobbles. But it's either them or gulls a-flappin'."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul's brown hands clasped the rope-wound telescope, and he +trained its lens with seaman's steadiness.</p> + +<p>"It's them," he said, with a chuckle of immense satisfaction. They're +hoppin' up and down on the high ridge, and slattin' their arms in +the air. It ain't no joy-dance, that ain't. I've seen Patagonian +Injuns a war-dancin'. It's like that. They've got that plank cover +pried up. I wisht I could hear what they are sayin'."</p> + +<p>"I can imagine," returned Hiram, grimly. "Hold it stiddy, so's I can +look. Them old arms of Colonel Gid is goin' some," he observed, after +a pause. "It will be a wonder if he don't shake his fists off."</p> + +<p>"There certainly is something cheerful about it—lookin' back and +knowin' what they must be sayin'," observed the Cap'n, losing his +temporary gloom. "I reckon I come by this check honest, after all, +considerin' what he done to me on them timber lands."</p> + +<p>"Well, it beats goin' to law," grinned Hiram. "Here you be, so afraid +of lawyers—and with good reason—that you'd have let him get away +with his plunder before you'd have gone to law—and he knew it when +he done you. You've taken back what's your own, in your own way, +without havin' to give law-shysters the biggest part for gettin' it. +Shake!" And chief plotter and the benefited clasped fists with +radiant good-nature. The Cap'n broke his grip in order to twirl the +wheel, it being necessary to take a red buoy to port.</p> + +<p>"We're goin' to slide out of sight of 'em in a few minutes," he said, +looking back over his shoulder regretfully. "I wisht I had a crew! +I could stand straight out through that passage on a long tack to +port, fetch Half-way Rock, and slide into Portland on the starboard +tack, and stay in sight of 'em pretty nigh all day. It would keep +'em busy thinkin' if we stayed in sight."</p> + +<p>"Stand out," advised Hiram, eagerly. "We ain't in any hurry. Let's +rub it into 'em. Stand out."</p> + +<p>"With them pea-bean pullers to work ship?" He pointed to the devoted +band of Smyrna fire-fighters, who were joyously gathering in with +varying luck a supply of tomcod and haddock to furnish the larder +inshore. "When I go huntin' for trouble it won't be with a gang of +hoss-marines like that."</p> + +<p>Hiram, as foreman of the Ancients, felt piqued at this slighting +reference to his men, and showed it.</p> + +<p>"They can pull ropes when you tell 'em to," he said. "Leastways, when +it comes to brains, I reckon they'll stack up better'n them Portygees +you used to have."</p> + +<p>"I never pretended that them Portygees had any brains at all," said +the Cap'n, grimly. "They come aboard without brains, and I took a +belayin'-pin and batted brains into 'em. I can't do that to these +critters here. It would be just like 'em to misunderstand the whole +thing and go home and get me mixed into a lot of law for assaultin' +'em."</p> + +<p>"Oh, if you're afraid to go outside, say so!" sneered Hiram. "But +you've talked so much of deep water, and weatherin' Cape Horn, and—"</p> + +<p>"Afraid? Me afraid?" roared the Cap'n, spatting his broad hand on +his breast. "Me, that kicked my dunnage-bag down the fo'c's'le-hatch +at fifteen years old? I'll show you whether I'm afraid or not."</p> + +<p>He knotted a hitch around the spokes of the wheel and scuffed hastily +forward.</p> + +<p>"Here!" he bawled, cuffing the taut sheets to point his meaning, +"when I get back to the wheel and holler 'Ease away!' you fellers +get hold of these ropes, untie 'em, and let out slow till I tell you +stop. And then tie 'em just as you find 'em."</p> + +<p>They did so clumsily, Cap'n Sproul swearing under his breath, and +at last the <i>Dobson</i> got away on the port tack.</p> + +<p>"Just think of me—master of a four-sticker at twenty-seven—havin' +to stand here in the face and eyes of the old Atlantic Ocean and yell +about untyin' ropes and tyin' 'em up like I was givin' off orders +in a cow-barn!"</p> + +<p>"Well, they done it all right—and they done it pretty slick, so far +as I could see," interjected Hiram.</p> + +<p>"Done it!" sneered the Cap'n. "Eased sheets here in this puddle, in +a breeze about stiff enough to winnow oats! Supposin' it was a blow, +with a gallopin' sea! Me runnin' around this deck taggin' gool on +halyards, lifts, sheets, and downhauls, and them hoss-marines +follerin' me up. Davy Jones would die laughin', unless some one +pounded him on the back to help him get his breath."</p> + +<p>Now that his mariner's nose was turned toward the sea once again after +his two years of landsman's hebetude, all his seaman's instinct, all +his seaman's caution, revived. His nose snuffed the air, his eyes +studied the whirls of the floating clouds. There was nothing +especially ominous in sight.</p> + +<p>The autumn sun was warm. The wind was sprightly but not heavy. And +yet his mariner's sense sniffed something untoward.</p> + +<p>The <i>Dobson</i>, little topmast hooker, age-worn and long before +relegated to the use of Sunday fishing-parties "down the bay," had +for barometer only a broken affair that had been issued to advertise +the virtues of a certain baking-powder. It was roiled permanently +to the degree marked "Tornado."</p> + +<p>"Yes," remarked Hiram, nestling down once more under the bulwark, +after viewing the display of amateur activity, "of course, if you're +afraid to tackle a little deep water once more, just for the sake +of an outin', then I've no more to say. I've heard of railro'd +engineers and sea-capt'ns losin' their nerve. I didn't know but it +had happened to you."</p> + +<p>"Well, it ain't," snapped the Cap'n, indignantly. And yet his sailor +instinct scented menace. He couldn't explain it to that cynical old +circus-man, intent on a day's outing. Had it not been for Hiram's +presence and his taunt, Cap'n Sproul would have promptly turned tail +to the Atlantic and taken his safe and certain way along the reaches +and under shelter of the islands. But reflecting that Hiram Look, +back in Smyrna, might circulate good-natured derogation of his +mariner's courage, Cap'n Sproul set the <i>Dobson's</i> blunt nose to the +heave of the sea, and would not have quailed before a tidal wave.</p> + +<p>The Smyrna contingent hailed this adventuring into greater depths +as a guarantee of bigger fish for the salt-barrel at home, and +proceeded to cut bait with vigor and pleased anticipation.</p> + +<p>Only the Cap'n was saturnine, and even lost his interest in the +animated figures on distant Cod Lead Nubble, though Hiram could not +drag his eyes from them, seeing in their frantic gestures the +denouement of his plot.</p> + +<p>Shortly after noon they were well out to sea, still on the port tack, +the swells swinging underneath in a way that soothed the men of Smyrna +rather than worried them. So steady was the lift and sweep of the +long roll that they gave over fishing and snored wholesomely in the +sun on deck. Hiram dozed over his cigar, having paid zestful +attention to the dinner that Jackson Denslow had spread in the +galley.</p> + +<p>Only Cap'n Sproul, at the wheel, was alert and awake. With some +misgivings he noted that the trawl fishers were skimming toward port +in their Hampton boats. A number of smackmen followed these. Later +he saw several deeply laden Scotiamen lumbering past on the starboard +tack, all apparently intent on making harbor.</p> + +<p>"Them fellers has smelt something outside that don't smell good," +grunted the Cap'n. But he still stood on his way. "I reckon I've got +softenin' of the brain," he muttered; "livin' inshore has given it +to me. 'Cause if I was in my right senses I'd be runnin' a race with +them fellers to see which would get inside Bug Light and to a safe +anchorage first. And yet I'm standin' on with this old bailin'-dish +because I'm afraid of what a landlubber will say to folks in Smyrna +about my bein' a coward, and with no way of my provin' that I ain't. +All that them hoss-marines has got a nose for is a b'iled dinner when +it's ready. They couldn't smell nasty weather even if 'twas daubed +onto their mustaches."</p> + +<p>At the end of another hour, during which the crew of the <i>Dobson</i> +had become thoroughly awake and aware of the fact that the coast-line +was only a blue thread on the northern horizon, Cap'n Sproul had +completely satisfied his suspicions as to a certain bunch of slaty +cloud.</p> + +<p>There was a blow in it—a coming shift of wind preceded by flaws that +made the Cap'n knot his eyebrows dubiously.</p> + +<p>"There!" he blurted, turning his gaze on Hiram, perched on the +grating. "If you reckon you've got enough of a sail out of this, we'll +put about for harbor. But I want it distinctly understood that I ain't +sayin' the word 'enough.' I'd keep on sailin' to the West Injies if +we had grub a-plenty to last us."</p> + +<p>"There ain't grub enough," suggested Jackson Denslow, who came up +from the waist with calm disregard of shipboard etiquette. "The boys +have all caught plenty of fish, and we want to get in before dark. +So gee her round, Cap'n."</p> + +<p>"Don't you give off no orders to me!" roared the Cap'n. "Go back +for'ard where you belong."</p> + +<p>"That's the sense of the boys, just the same," retorted Denslow, +retreating a couple of steps. "'Delphus Murray is seasick, and two +or three of the boys are gettin' so. We ain't enlisted for no +seafarin' trip."</p> + +<p>"Don't you realize that we're on the high seas now and that you're +talkin' mutiny, and that mutiny's a state-prison crime?" clamored +the irate skipper. "I'd have killed a Portygee for sayin' a quarter +as much. I'd have killed him for settin' foot abaft the +gratin'—killed him before he opened his mouth."</p> + +<p>"We ain't Portygees," rejoined Denslow, stubbornly. "We ain't no +sailors."</p> + +<p>"Nor I ain't liar enough to call you sailors," the Cap'n cried, in +scornful fury.</p> + +<p>"If ye want to come right down to straight business," said the +refractory Denslow, "there ain't any man got authority over us except +Mr. Look there, as foreman of the Smyrna Ancients and Honer'bles."</p> + +<p>Mr. Denslow, mistaking the Cap'n's speechlessness for conviction, +proceeded:</p> + +<p>"We was hired to take a sail for our health, dig dirt, and keep our +mouths shut. Same has been done and is bein' done—except in so far +as we open 'em to remark that we want to get back onto dry ground."</p> + +<p>Hiram noted that the Cap'n's trembling hands were taking a half-hitch +with a rope's end about a tiller-spoke. He understood this as meaning +that Cap'n Sproul desired to have his hands free for a moment. He +hastened to interpose.</p> + +<p>"We're goin' to start right back, Denslow. You can tell the boys for +me."</p> + +<p>"All right, Chief!" said the faithful member of the Ancients, and +departed.</p> + +<p>"We be goin' back, hey?" The Cap'n had his voice again, and turned +on Hiram a face mottled with fury. "This firemen's muster is runnin' +this craft, is it? Say, look-a-here, Hiram, there are certain things +'board ship where it's hands off! There is a certain place where +friendship ceases. You can run your Smyrna fire department on shore, +but aboard a vessel where I'm master mariner, by the wall-eyed +jeehookibus, there's no man but me bosses! And so long as a sail is +up and her keel is movin' I say the say!"</p> + +<p>In order to shake both fists under Hiram's nose, he had surrendered +the wheel to the rope-end. The <i>Dobson</i> paid off rapidly, driven by +a sudden squall that sent her lee rail level with the foaming water. +Those forward howled in concert. Even the showman's face grew pale +as he squatted in the gangway, clutching the house for support.</p> + +<p>"Cut away them ropes! She's goin' to tip over!" squalled Murray, the +big blacksmith. Between the two options—to take the wheel and bring +the clumsy hooker into the wind, or to rush forward and flail his +bunglers away from the rigging—Cap'n Sproul shuttled insanely, +rushing to and fro and bellowing furious language. The language had +no effect. With axes and knives the willing crew hacked away every +rope forward that seemed to be anything supporting a sail, and down +came the foresail and two jibs. The Cap'n knocked down the two men +who tried to cut the mainsail halyards. The next moment the <i>Dobson</i> +jibed under the impulse of the mainsail, and the swinging boom +snapped Hiram's plug hat afar into the sea, and left the showman flat +on his back, dizzily rubbing a bump on his bald head.</p> + +<p>For an instant Cap'n Sproul was moved by a wild impulse to let her +slat her way to complete destruction, but the sailorman's instinct +triumphed, and he worked her round, chewing a strand of his beard +with venom.</p> + +<p>"I don't pretend to know as much about ship managin' as you do," Hiram +ventured to say at last, "but if that wa'n't a careless performance, +lettin' her wale round that way, then I'm no judge."</p> + +<p>He got no comment from the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"I don't suppose it's shipshape to cut ropes instead of untie 'em," +pursued Hiram, struggling with lame apology in behalf of the others, +"but I could see for myself that if them sails stayed up we were goin' +to tip over. It's better to sail a little slower and keep right side +up."</p> + +<p>He knotted a big handkerchief around his head and took his place on +the grating once more.</p> + +<p>"What can we do now?" bawled Murray.</p> + +<p>"You're the one that's issuin' orders 'board here now," growled the +Cap'n, bending baleful gaze on the foreman of the Ancients. "Go +for'ard and tell 'em to chop down both masts, and then bore some holes +in the bottom to let out the bilge-water. Then they can set her on +fire. There might be something them blasted Ancients could do to a +vessel on fire."</p> + +<p>"I don't believe in bein' sarcastic when people are tryin' to do the +best they can," objected Hiram. He noted that the <i>Dobson</i> was once +again setting straight out to sea. She was butting her snub nose +furiously into swelling combers. The slaty bench of clouds had lifted +into the zenith. Scud trailed just over the swaying masts. The shore +line was lost in haze. "Don't be stuffy any longer, Cap'n," he pleaded. +"We've gone fur enough. I give up. You are deep-water, all right!"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul made no reply. Suddenly catching a moment that seemed +favorable, he lashed the wheel, and with mighty puffing and grunting +"inched" in the main-sheet. "She ought to have a double reef," he +muttered. "But them petrified sons of secos couldn't take in a week's +wash."</p> + +<p>"You can see for yourself that the boys are seasick," resumed Hiram, +when the Cap'n took the wheel again. "If you don't turn 'round—"</p> + +<p>"Mr. Look," grated the skipper, "I've got just a word or two to say +right now." His sturdy legs were straddled, his brown hands clutched +the spokes of the weather-worn wheel. "I'm runnin' this packet from +now on, and it's without conversation. Understand? Don't you open +your yap. And you go for'ard and tell them steer calves that I'll +kill the first one that steps foot aft the mainmast."</p> + +<p>There was that in the tones and in the skipper's mien of dignity as +he stood there, fronting and defying once again his ancient foe, the +ocean, which took out of Hiram all his courage to retort. And after +a time he went forward, dragging himself cautiously, to join the +little group of misery huddled in the folds of the fallen canvas.</p> + +<p>"A cargo of fools to save!" growled Cap'n Sproul, his eyebrows +knotted in anxiety. "Myself among 'em! And they don't know what the +matter is with 'em. We've struck the line gale—that's what we've +done! Struck it with a choppin'-tray for a bo't and a mess of +rooty-baggy turnips for a crew! And there's only one hole to crawl +out of."</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XXII</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>The wind had shifted when it settled into the blow—a fact that the +Cap'n's shipmates did not realize, and which he was too disgusted +by their general inefficiency to explain to them. In his crippled +condition, in the gathering night, he figured that it would be +impossible for him to make Portland harbor, the only accessible +refuge. The one chance was to ride it out, and this he set himself +to do, grimly silent, contemptuously reticent. He held her nose up +to the open sea, allowing her only steerageway, the gale slithering +off her flattened sail.</p> + +<p>The men who gazed on him from the waist saw in his resolution only +stubborn determination to punish them.</p> + +<p>"He's sartinly the obstinatest man that ever lowered his head at ye," +said Zeburee Nute, breaking in on the apprehensive mumble of his +fellows. "He won't stop at northin' when he's mad. Look what he's +done in Smyrna. But I call this rubbin' it in a darn sight more'n +he's got any right to do."</p> + +<p>His lament ended in a seasick hiccough.</p> + +<p>"I don't understand sailormen very well," observed Jackson Denslow; +"and it may be that a lot of things they do are all right, viewed +from sailorman standpoint. But if Cap Sproul wa'n't plumb crazy and +off'm his nut them times we offered him honors in our town, and if +he ain't jest as crazy now, I don't know lunatics when I see 'em."</p> + +<p>"Headin' straight out to sea when dry ground's off that way," said +Murray, finning feeble hand to starboard, "ain't what Dan'l Webster +would do, with his intellect, if he was here."</p> + +<p>Hiram Look sat among them without speaking, his eyes on his friend +outlined against the gloom at the wheel. One after the other the +miserable members of the Ancients and Honorables appealed to him for +aid and counsel.</p> + +<p>"Boys," he said at last, "I've been figgerin' that he's just madder'n +blazes at what you done to the sails, and that as soon's he works +his mad off he'll turn tail. Judgin' from what he said to me, it ain't +safe to tackle him right away. It will only keep him mad. Hold tight +for a little while and let's see what he'll do when he cools. And +if he don't cool then, I've got quite a habit of gettin' mad myself."</p> + +<p>And, hanging their hopes on this argument and promise, they crouched +there in their misery, their eyes on the dim figure at the wheel, +their ears open to the screech of the gale, their souls as sick within +them as were their stomachs.</p> + +<p>In that sea and that wind the progress of the <i>Dobson</i> was, as the +Cap'n mentally put it, a "sashay." There was way enough on her to +hold her into the wind, but the waves and the tides lugged her slowly +sideways and backward. And yet, with their present sea-room Cap'n +Sproul hoped that he might claw off enough to save her.</p> + +<p>Upon his absorption in these hopes blundered Hiram through the night, +crawling aft on his hands and knees after final and despairing appeal +from his men.</p> + +<p>"I say, Cap'n," he gasped, "you and I have been too good friends to +have this go any further. I've took my medicine. So have the boys. +Now let's shake hands and go ashore."</p> + +<p>No reply from the desperate mariner at the wheel battling for life.</p> + +<p>"You heard me!" cried Hiram, fear and anger rasping in his tones. +"I say, I want to go ashore, and, damme, I'm goin'!"</p> + +<p>"Take your shoes in your hand and wade," gritted the Cap'n. "I ain't +stoppin' you." He still scorned to explain to the meddlesome +landsman.</p> + +<p>"I can carry a grudge myself," blustered Hiram. "But I finally stop +to think of others that's dependent on me. We've got wives ashore, +you and me have, and these men has got families dependent on 'em. +I tell ye to turn round and go ashore!"</p> + +<p>"Turn round, you devilish idjit?" bellowed the Cap'n. "What do you +think this is—one of your circus wagons with a span of hosses hitched +in front of it? I told you once before that I didn't want to be +bothered with conversation. I tell you so ag'in. I've got things on +my mind that you don't know anything about, and that you ain't got +intellect enough to understand. Now, you shut up or I'll kick you +overboard for a mutineer."</p> + +<p>At the end of half an hour of silence—bitter, suffering +silence—Hiram broke out with a husky shout.</p> + +<p>"There ye go, Cap'n," he cried. "Behind you! There's our chance!"</p> + +<p>A wavering red flare lighted the sky, spreading upward on the mists.</p> + +<p>The men forward raised a quavering cheer.</p> + +<p>"Ain't you goin' to sail for it?" asked Hiram, eagerly. "There's our +chance to get ashore." He had crept close to the skipper.</p> + +<p>"I s'pose you feel like puttin' on that piazzy hat of yourn and +grabbin' your speakin'-trumpet, leather buckets, and bed-wrench, +and startin' for it," sneered Cap'n Sproul in a lull of the wind. +"In the old times they had wimmen called sirens to coax men ashore. +But that thing there seems to be better bait of the Smyrna fire +department."</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to tell me that you ain't agoin' to land when there's +dry ground right over there, with people signallin' and waitin' to +help you?" demanded the showman, his temper whetted by his fright.</p> + +<p>The Cap'n esteemed the question too senseless to admit any reply +except a scornful oath. He at the wheel, studying drift and wind, +had pretty clear conception of their whereabouts. The scraggly ridge +dimly outlined by the fire on shore could hardly be other than Cod +Lead, where Colonel Gideon Ward and Eleazar Bodge were languishing. +It was probable that those marooned gentlemen had lighted a fire in +their desperation in order to signal for assistance. The Cap'n +reflected that it was about as much wit as landsmen would possess.</p> + +<p>To Hiram's panicky mind this situation seemed to call for one line +of action. They were skippered by a madman or a brute, he could not +figure which. At any rate, it seemed time to interfere.</p> + +<p>He crawled back again to the huddled group of the Ancients and +enlisted Ludelphus Murray, as biggest and least incapacitated by +seasickness.</p> + +<p>They staggered back in the gloom and, without preface or argument, +fell upon the Cap'n, dragged him, fighting manfully and profanely, +to the companionway of the little house, thrust him down, after an +especially vigorous engagement of some minutes, slammed and bolted +the doors and shot the hatch. They heard him beating about within +and raging horribly, but Murray doubled himself over, his knees +against the doors, his body prone on the hatch.</p> + +<p>His position was fortunate for him, for again the <i>Dobson</i> jibed, +the boom of the mainsail slishing overhead. Hiram was crawling on +hands and knees toward the wheel, and escaped, also. When the little +schooner took the bit in her teeth she promptly eliminated the +question of seamanship. It was as though she realized that the +master-hand was paralyzed. She shook the rotten sail out of the +bolt-ropes with a bang, righted and went sluggishly rolling toward +the flare on shore.</p> + +<p>"I don't know much about vessel managin'," gasped Hiram, "but seein' +that gettin' ashore was what I was drivin' at; the thing seems to +be progressin' all favorable."</p> + +<p>Up to this time one passenger on the schooner appeared to be taking +calm or tempest with the same equanimity. This passenger was Imogene, +couched at the break of the little poop. But the cracking report of +the bursting sail, and now the dreadful clamor of the imprisoned +Cap'n Sproul, stirred her fears. She raised her trunk and trumpeted +with bellowings that shamed the blast.</p> + +<p>"Let him up now, 'Delphus!" shouted Hiram, after twirling the wheel +vainly and finding that the <i>Dobson</i> heeded it not. "If there ain't +no sails up he can't take us out to sea. Let him up before he gives +Imogene hysterics."</p> + +<p>And when Murray released his clutch on the hatch it snapped back, +and out over the closed doors of the companionway shot the Cap'n, +a whiskered jack-in-the-box, gifted with vociferous speech.</p> + +<p>Like the cautious seaman, his first glance was aloft. Then he spun +the useless wheel.</p> + +<p>"You whelps of perdition!" he shrieked. "Lifts cut, mains'l blowed +out, and a lee shore a quarter of a mile away! I've knowed fools, +lunatics, and idjits, and I don't want to insult 'em by callin' you +them names. You—"</p> + +<p>"Well, if we are any crazier for wantin' to go ashore where we belong +than you was for settin' out to cross the Atlantic Ocean in a night +like this, I'd like to have it stated why," declared Hiram.</p> + +<p>"Don't you know enough to understand that I was tryin' to save your +lives by ratchin' her off'm this coast?" bellowed Cap'n Sproul.</p> + +<p>"Just thought you was crazy, and think so now," replied the showman, +now fully as furious as the Cap'n—each in his own mind accusing the +other of being responsible for their present plight. "The place for +us is on shore, and we're goin' there!"</p> + +<p>"What do you suppose is goin' to become of us when she strikes?" +bawled the Cap'n, clutching the backstay and leaning into the night.</p> + +<p>"She'll strike shore, won't she? Well, that's what I want to strike. +It'll sound good and feel good."</p> + +<p>For such gibbering lunacy as this the master mariner had no fit reply. +His jaws worked wordlessly. He kept his clutch on the backstay with +the dizzy notion that this saved him from clutching some one's +throat.</p> + +<p>"You'd better begin to pray, you fellers," he cried at last, with +a quaver in his tones. "We're goin' smash-ti-belter onto them rocks, +and Davy Jones is settin' on extra plates for eight at breakfast +to-morrer mornin'. Do your prayin' now."</p> + +<p>"The only Scripture that occurs to me just now," said Hiram, in a +hush of the gale, "is that 'God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb.'"</p> + +<p>That was veritably a Delphic utterance at that moment, had Hiram only +known it.</p> + +<p>Some one has suggested that there is a providence that watches over +children and fools. It is certain that chance does play strange +antics. Men have fallen from balloons and lived. Other men have +slipped on a banana skin and died. Men have fought to save themselves +from destruction, and have been destroyed. Other men have resigned +themselves and have won out triumphantly.</p> + +<p>The doomed <i>Dobson</i> was swashing toward the roaring shore broadside +on. The first ledge would roll her bottom up, beating in her punky +breast at the same time. This was the programme the doleful skipper +had pictured in his mind. There was no way of winning a chance through +the rocks, such as there might have been with steerageway, a tenuous +chance, and yet a chance. But the Cap'n decided with apathy and +resignation to fate that one man could not raise a sail out of that +wreck forward and at the same time heave her up to a course for the +sake of that chance.</p> + +<p>As to Imogene he had not reckoned.</p> + +<p>Perhaps that faithful pachyderm decided to die with her master +embraced in her trunk. Perhaps she decided that the quarter-deck was +farther above water than the waist.</p> + +<p>At any rate, curving back her trunk and "roomping" out the +perturbation of her spirit, she reared on her hind-legs, boosted +herself upon the roof of the house, and clawed aft. This +auto-shifting of cargo lifted the bow of the little schooner. Her +jibs, swashing soggily about her bow, were hoisted out of the water, +and a gust bellied them. On the pivot of her buried stern the <i>Dobson</i> +swung like a top just as twin ledges threatened her broadside, and +she danced gayly between them, the wind tugging her along by her +far-flung jibs.</p> + +<p>In matter of wrecks, it is the outer rocks that smash; it is the teeth +of these ledges that tear timbers and macerate men. The straggling +remains are found later in the sandy cove.</p> + +<p>But with Imogene as unwitting master mariner in the crisis, the +schooner dodged the danger of the ledges by the skin of her barnacled +bottom, spun frothing up the cove in the yeast of the waves, bumped +half a dozen times as though searching suitable spot for +self-immolation, and at last, finding a bed of white sand, flattened +herself upon it with a racket of demolition—the squall of drawing +spikes her death-wail, the boom of water under her bursting deck her +grunt of dissolution.</p> + +<p>The compelling impulse that drives men to close personal contact in +times of danger had assembled all the crew of the schooner upon the +poop, the distracted Imogene in the centre. She wore the trappings +of servitude—the rude harness in which she had labored to draw up +the buckets of dirt on Cod Lead, the straps to which the tackle had +been fastened to hoist her on board the <i>Dobson</i>.</p> + +<p>When the deck went out from under them, the elephant was the biggest +thing left in reach.</p> + +<p>And as she went sturdily swimming off, trunk elevated above the +surges, the desperate crew of the <i>Dobson</i> grabbed at straps and +dangling traces and went, too, towing behind her. Imogene could reach +the air with the end of her uplifted trunk. The men submerged at her +side gasped and strangled, but clung with the death-grip of drowning +men; and when at last she found bottom and dragged herself up the +beach with the waves beating at her, she carried them all, salvaged +from the sea in a fashion so marvellous that Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first +on his legs, had no voice left with which to express his sentiments.</p> + +<p>He staggered around to the front of the panting animal and solemnly +seized her trunk and waggled it in earnest hand-shake.</p> + +<p>"You're a dumb animile," he muttered, "and you prob'ly can't have +any idea of what I'm meanin' or sayin'. But I want to say to you, +man to elephant, that I wouldn't swap your hind-tail—which don't +seem to be of any use, anyway—for the whole Smyrna fire company. +I'm sayin' to you, frank and outspoken, that I was mad when you first +come aboard. I ask your pardon. Of course, you don't understand that. +But my mind is freer. Your name ought to be changed to Proverdunce, +and the United States Government ought to give you a medal bigger'n +a pie-plate."</p> + +<p>He turned and bent a disgusted stare on the gasping men dimly outlined +in the gloom.</p> + +<p>"I'd throw you back again," he snapped, "if it wa'n't for givin' the +Atlantic Ocean the colic."</p> + +<p>One by one they staggered up from the beach grass, revolved dizzily, +and with the truly homing instinct started away in the direction of +the fire-flare on the higher land of the island.</p> + +<p>Of that muddled company, he was the only one who had the least +knowledge of their whereabouts or guessed that those responsible for +the signal-fire were Colonel Gideon Ward and Eleazar Bodge. He +followed behind, steeling his soul to meet those victims of the +complicated plot. An astonished bleat from Hiram Look, who led the +column, announced them. Colonel Ward was doubled before the fire, +his long arms embracing his thin knees. Eleazar Bodge had just +brought a fresh armful of driftwood to heap on the blaze.</p> + +<p>"We thought it would bring help to us," cried the Colonel, who could +not see clearly through the smoke. "We've been left here by a set +of thieves and murderers." He unfolded himself and stood up. "You +get me in reach of a telegraph-office before nine o'clock to-morrow +and I'll make it worth your while."</p> + +<p>"By the long-horned heifers of Hebron!" bawled Hiram. "We've come +back to just the place we started from! If you built that fire to +tole us ashore here, I'll have you put into State Prison."</p> + +<p>"Here they are, Bodge!" shrieked the Colonel, his teeth chattering, +squirrel-like, in his passion. "Talk about State Prison to me! I'll +have the whole of you put there for bunco-men. You've stolen fifteen +thousand dollars from me. Where is that old hell-hound that's got +my check?"</p> + +<p>"Here are six square and responsible citizens of Smyrna that heard +you make your proposition and saw you pass that check," declared +Hiram, stoutly, awake thoroughly, now that his prized plot was +menaced. "It was a trade."</p> + +<p>"It was a steal!" The Colonel caught sight of Cap'n Sproul on the +outskirts of the group. "You cash that check and I'll have you behind +bars. I've stopped payment on it."</p> + +<p>"Did ye telegraft or ride to the bank on a bicycle?" inquired the +Cap'n, satirically. He came straight up to the fire, pushing the +furious Colonel to one side as he passed him. Angry as Ward was, he +did not dare to resist or attack this grim man who thus came upon +him, dripping, from the sea.</p> + +<p>"Keep out of the way of gentlemen who want to dry themselves," grunted +the skipper, and he calmly took possession of the fire, beckoning +his crew to follow him. The Colonel and Mr. Bodge were shut out from +the cheering blaze.</p> + +<p>The first thing Cap'n Sproul did, as he squatted down, was to pull +out his wallet and inspect the precious check.</p> + +<p>"It's pretty wet," he remarked, "but the ink ain't run any. A little +dryin' out is all it needs."</p> + +<p>And with Ward shouting fearful imprecations at him over the heads +of the group about the fire, he proceeded calmly to warm the check, +turning first one side and then the other to the blaze.</p> + +<p>"If you try to grab that," bawled Hiram, who was squatting beside +the Cap'n, eying him earnestly in his task, "I'll break in your head." +Then he nudged the elbow of the Cap'n, who had remained apparently +oblivious of his presence. "Aaron," he muttered, "there's been some +things between us to-night that I wish hadn't been. But I'm +quick-tempered, and I ain't used to the sea, and what I done was on +the spur of the moment. But I've shown that I'm your friend, and I'll +do more to show—"</p> + +<p>"Hiram," broke in the Cap'n, and his tone was severe, "mutiny ain't +easy overlooked. But considerin' that your elephant has squared +things for you, we'll let it stand as settled. But don't ever talk +about it. I'm havin' too hard work to control my feelin's."</p> + +<p>And then, looking up from the drying check, he fixed the vociferous +Colonel with flaming eyes.</p> + +<p>"Did ye hear me make a remark about my feelin's?" he rasped. "Your +business and my business has been settled, and here's the paper to +show for it." He slapped his hand across the check. "I didn't come +back here to talk it over." He gulped down his wrathful memory of +the reasons that had brought him. "You've bought Bodge. You've bought +Cap Kidd's treasure, wherever it is. You're welcome to Bodge and to +the treasure. And, controllin' Bodge as you do, you'd better let him +make you up another fire off some little ways from this one, because +this one ain't big enough for you and me both." The Cap'n's tone was +significant. There was stubborn menace there, also. After gazing for +a time on Sproul's uncompromising face and on the check so +tantalizingly displayed before the blaze, Colonel Ward turned and +went away. Ten minutes later a rival blaze mounted to the heavens +from a distant part of Cod Lead Nubble. Half an hour later Mr. Bodge +came as an emissary. He brought the gage of battle and flung it down +and departed instantly.</p> + +<p>"Colonel Ward says for me to say to you," he announced, "that he'll +bet a thousand dollars you don't dare to hand that check into any +bank."</p> + +<p>"And you tell him I'll bet five thousand dollars," bellowed the Cap'n, +"that I not only dare to cash it, but that I'll get to a bank and +do it before he can get anywhere and stop payment."</p> + +<p>"It's a pretty fair gamble both ways," remarked Hiram, his sporting +instincts awake. "You may know more about water and ways of gettin' +acrost that, but if this wind holds up the old spider will spin out +a thread and ride away on it. He's ga'nt enough!"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul made no reply. He sat before his fire buried in thought, +the gale whipping past his ears.</p> + +<p>Colonel Ward, after ordering the returned and communicative Bodge +to shut up, was equally thoughtful as he gazed into his fire. +Ludelphus Murray, after trying long and in vain to light a soggy +pipeful of tobacco, gazed into the fire-lit faces of his comrades +of the Ancients and Honorables of Smyrna and said, with a sickly grin:</p> + +<p>"I wisht I knew Robinson Crusoe's address. He might like to run out +and spend the rest of the fall with us."</p> + +<p>But the jest did not cheer the gloom of the marooned on Cod Lead +Nubble.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XXIII</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>Cap'n Aaron Sproul had forgotten his troubles for a time. He had been +dozing. The shrewish night wind of autumn whistled over the ledges +of Cod Lead Nubble and scattered upon his gray beard the black ashes +from the bonfire that the shivering men of Smyrna still plied with +fuel. The Cap'n sat upright, his arms clasping his doubled knees, +his head bent forward.</p> + +<p>Hiram Look, faithful friend that he was, had curled himself at his +back and was snoring peacefully. He had the appearance of a corsair, +with his head wrapped in the huge handkerchief that had replaced the +plug hat lost in the stress and storm that had destroyed the <i>Aurilla +P. Dobson</i>. The elephant, Imogene, was bulked dimly in the first gray +of a soppy dawn.</p> + +<p>"If this is goin' to sea," said Jackson Denslow, continuing the sour +mutterings of the night, "I'm glad I never saw salt water before I +got pulled into this trip."</p> + +<p>"It ain't goin' to sea," remarked another of the Smyrna amateur +mariners. "It's goin' ashore!" He waved a disconsolate gesture +toward the cove where the remains of the <i>Dobson</i> swashed in the +breakers.</p> + +<p>"If any one ever gets me navigatin' again onto anything desp'ritter +than a stone-bo't on Smyrna bog," said Denslow, "I hope my relatives +will have me put into a insane horsepittle."</p> + +<p>"Look at that!" shouted Ludelphus Murray. "This is a thunderation +nice kind of a night to have a celebration on!"</p> + +<p>This yelp, sounding above the somniferous monotone of grumbling, +stirred Cap'n Sproul from his dozing. He snapped his head up from +his knees. A rocket was streaking across the sky and popped with a +sprinkling of colored fires. Another and another followed with +desperate haste, and a Greek fire shed baleful light across the +waters.</p> + +<p>"Yes, sir," repeated Murray, indignantly sarcastic, "it's a nice +night and a nice time of night to be celebratin' when other folks +is cold and sufferin' and hungry."</p> + +<p>"What's the matter?" asked Hiram, stirring in his turn.</p> + +<p>The Cap'n was prompt with biting reply.</p> + +<p>"One of your Smyrna 'cyclopedys of things that ain't so is open at +the page headed 'idjit,' with a chaw of tobacker for a book-mark. +If the United States Government don't scoop in the whole of us for +maintainin' false beacons on a dangerous coast in a storm, then I +miss my cal'lations, that's all!"</p> + +<p>"That shows the right spirit out there," vouchsafed Hiram, his eyes +kindling as another rocket slashed the sky. "Fireworks as soon as +they've located us is the right spirit, I say! The least we can do +is to give 'em three cheers."</p> + +<p>But at this Cap'n Sproul staggered up, groaning as his old enemy, +rheumatism, dug its claws into his flesh. He made for the shore, his +disgust too deep for words.</p> + +<p>"Me—me," he grunted, "in with a gang that can't tell the difference +between a vessel goin' to pieces and a fireworks celebration! I don't +wonder that the Atlantic Ocean tasted of us and spit us ashore. She +couldn't stand it to drown us!"</p> + +<p>When the others straggled down and gabbled questions at him he +refused to reply, but stood peering into the lifting dawn. He got +a glimpse of her rig before her masts went over. She was a +hermaphrodite brig, and old-fashioned at that. She was old-fashioned +enough to have a figure-head. It came ashore at Cap'n Sproul's feet +as <i>avant-coureur</i> of the rest of the wreckage. It led the procession +because it was the first to suffer when the brig butted her nose +against the Blue Cow Reef. It came ashore intact, a full-sized woman +carved from pine and painted white. The Cap'n recognized the fatuous +smile as the figure rolled its face up at him from the brine.</p> + +<p>"The old <i>Polyhymnia</i>!" he muttered.</p> + +<p>Far out there was a flutter of sail, and under his palm he descried +a big yawl making off the coast. She rode lightly, and he could see +only two heads above her gunwale.</p> + +<p>"That's Cap Hart Tate, all right," mused the Cap'n; "Cap Hart Tate +gallantly engaged in winnin' a medal by savin' his own life. But +knowin' Cap Hart Tate as well as I do, I don't see how he ever so +far forgot himself as to take along any one else. It must be the first +mate, and the first mate must have had a gun as a letter of +recommendation!"</p> + +<p>It may be said in passing that this was a distinctly shrewd guess, +and the Cap'n promptly found something on the seas that clinched his +belief. Bobbing toward Cod Lead came an overloaded dingy. There were +six men in it, and they were making what shift they could to guide +it into the cove between the outer rocks. They came riding through +safely on a roller, splattered across the cove with wildly waving +oars, and landed on the sand with a bump that sent them tumbling heels +over head out of the little boat.</p> + +<p>"Four Portygee sailors, the cook, and the second mate," elucidated +Cap'n Sproul, oracularly, for his own information.</p> + +<p>The second mate, a squat and burly sea-dog, was first up on his feet +in the white water, but stumbled over a struggling sailor who was +kicking his heels in an attempt to rise. When the irate mate was up +for the second time he knocked down this sailor and then strode ashore, +his meek followers coming after on their hands and knees.</p> + +<p>"Ahoy, there, Dunk Butts!" called Cap'n Sproul, heartily.</p> + +<p>But Dunk Butts did not appear to warm to greetings nor to rejoice +over his salvation from the sea. He squinted sourly at the Cap'n, +then at the men of Smyrna, and then his eyes fell upon the figurehead +and its fatuous smile.</p> + +<p>With a snarl he leaped on it, smashed his knuckles against its face, +swore horribly while he danced with pain, kicked it with his heavy +sea-boots, was more horribly profane as he hopped about with an +aching toe in the clutch of both hands, and at last picked up a +good-sized hunk of ledge and went at the smiling face with Berserker +rage.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul had begun to frown at Butts's scornful slighting of his +amiable greeting. Now he ran forward, placed his broad boot against +the second mate, and vigorously pushed him away from the prostrate +figure. When Butts came up at him with the fragment of rock in his +grasp, Cap'n Sproul faced him with alacrity, also with a piece of +rock.</p> + +<p>"You've knowed me thutty years and sailed with me five, Dunk Butts, +and ye're shinnin' into the wrong riggin' when ye come at me with +a rock. I ain't in no very gentle spirits to-day, neither."</p> + +<p>"I wasn't doin' northin' to you," squealed Butts, his anger becoming +mere querulous reproach, for the Cap'n's eye was fiery and Butts's +memory was good.</p> + +<p>"You was strikin' a female," said Cap'n Sproul, with severity, and +when the astonished Butts blazed indignant remonstrance, he insisted +on his point with a stubbornness that allowed no compromise. "It +don't make any difference even if it is only a painted figger. It's +showin' disrespect to the sex, and sence I've settled on shore, Butts, +and am married to the best woman that ever lived, I'm standin' up +for the sex to the extent that I ain't seein' no insults handed to +a woman—even if it ain't anything but an Injun maiden in front of +a cigar-store."</p> + +<p>Butts dropped his rock.</p> + +<p>"I never hurt a woman, and I would never hurt one," he protested, +"and you that's sailed with me knows it. But that blasted, grinnin' +effijiggy there stands for that rotten old punk-heap that's jest gone +to pieces out yender, and it's the only thing I've got to get back +on. Three months from Turk's Island, Cap'n Sproul, with a salt cargo +and grub that would gag a dogfish! Lay down half a biskit and it would +walk off. All I've et for six weeks has been doughboys lolloped in +Porty Reek. He kicked me when I complained." Butts shook wavering +finger at the shred of sail in the distance. "He kept us off with +the gun to-day and sailed away in the yawl, and he never cared whuther +we ever got ashore or not. And the grin he give me when he done it +was jest like the grin on that thing there." Again the perturbed Butts +showed signs of a desire to assault the wooden incarnation of the +spirit of the <i>Polyhymnia</i>.</p> + +<p>"A man who has been abused as much as you have been abused at sea +has good reason to stand up for your rights when you are abused the +moment you reach shore," barked a harsh voice. Colonel Gideon Ward, +backed by the faithful Eleazar Bodge, stood safely aloof on a huge +bowlder, his gaunt frame outlined against the morning sky. "Are you +the commander of those men?" he inquired.</p> + +<p>"I'm second mate," answered Mr. Butts.</p> + +<p>"You and your men are down there associatin' with the most pestilent +set of robbers and land-pirates that ever disgraced a civilized +country," announced the Colonel. "They robbed me of fifteen thousand +dollars and left me marooned here on this desert island, but the wind +of Providence blew 'em back, and the devil wouldn't have 'em in Tophet, +and here they are. They'll have your wallets and your gizzards if +you don't get away from 'em. I invite you over there to my fire, +gentlemen. Mr.—"</p> + +<p>"Butts," said the second mate, staring with some concern at the group +about him and at the Cap'n, who still held his fragment of rock.</p> + +<p>"Mr. Butts, you and your men come with me and I'll tell you a story +that will—"</p> + +<p>Hiram Look thrust forward at this moment. The ex-showman was not a +reassuring personality to meet shipwrecked mariners. His big +handkerchief was knotted about his head in true buccaneer style. The +horns of his huge mustache stuck out fiercely. Mr. Butts and his timid +Portuguese shrank.</p> + +<p>"He's a whack-fired, jog-jiggered old sanup of a liar," bellowed this +startling apparition, who might have been Blackbeard himself. "We +only have got back the fifteen thousand that he stole from us."</p> + +<p>These amazing figures dizzied Mr. Butts, and his face revealed his +feelings. He blinked from one party to the other with swiftly +calculating gaze. Looking at the angry Hiram, he backed away two +steps. After staring at the unkempt members of the Smyrna fire +department, ranged behind their foreman, he backed three steps more. +And then reflecting that the man of the piratical countenance had +unblushingly confessed to the present possession of the disputed +fortune, he clasped his hands to his own money-belt and hurried over +to Colonel Ward's rock, his men scuttling behind him.</p> + +<p>"Don't you believe their lies," bellowed the Colonel, breaking in +on Hiram's eager explanations of the timber-land deal and the quest +of the treasure they had come to Cod Lead to unearth. "I'll take you +right to the hole they sold to me, I'll show you the plank cover they +made believe was the lid of a treasure-chest, I'll prove to you they +are pirates. We've got to stand together." He hastened to Mr. Butts +and linked his arm in the seaman's, drawing him away. "There's only +two of us. We can't hurt you. We don't want to hurt you. But if you +stay among that bunch they'll have your liver, lights, and your +heart's blood."</p> + +<p>Five minutes later the Ward camp was posted on a distant pinnacle +of the island. Cap'n Sproul had watched their retreat without a word, +his brows knitted, his fists clutched at his side, and his whole +attitude representing earnest consideration of a problem. He shook +his head at Hiram's advice to pursue Mr. Butts and drag him and his +men away from the enemy. It occurred to him that the friendliest chase +would look like an attack. He reflected that he had not adopted +exactly the tactics that were likely to warm over the buried embers +of friendship in Mr. Butts's bosom. He remembered through the mists +of the years that something like a kick or a belaying-pin had been +connected with Mr. Butts's retirement from the <i>Benn</i>.</p> + +<p>And until he could straighten out in his mind just what that parting +difficulty had been, and how much his temper had triumphed over his +justice to Butts, and until he had figured out a little something +in the line of diplomatic conciliation, he decided to squat for a +time beside his own fire and ruminate.</p> + +<p>For an hour he sat, his brow gloomy, and looked across to where +Colonel Ward was talking to Butts, his arms revolving like the fans +of a crazy windmill.</p> + +<p>"Lord! Cap'n Aaron," blurted Hiram at last, "he's pumpin' lies into +that shipmate of yourn till even from this distance I can see him +swellin' like a hop-toad under a mullein leaf. I tell you, you've +got to do something. What if it should come calm and you ain't got +him talked over and they should take the boat and row over to the +mainland? Where'd you and your check be if he gets to the bank first? +You listen to my advice and grab in there or we might just as well +never have got up that complicated plot to get even with the old son +of a seco."</p> + +<p>"Hiram," said the Cap'n, after a moment's deliberation, the last +hours of the <i>Aurilla P. Dobson</i> rankling still, "sence you and your +gang mutinied on me and made me let a chartered schooner go to smash +I ain't had no especial confidence in your advice in crisises. I've +seen you hold your head level in crisises on shore—away from salt +water, but you don't fit in 'board ship. And this, here, comes near +enough to bein' 'board ship to cut you out. I don't take any more +chances with you and the Smyrna fire department till I get inland +at least fifty miles from tide-water."</p> + +<p>Hiram bent injured gaze on him.</p> + +<p>"You're turnin' down a friend in a tight place," he complained. "I've +talked it over with the boys and they stand ready to lick those dagos +and take the boat, there, and row you ashore."</p> + +<p>But his wistful gaze quailed under the stare the Cap'n bent on him. +The mariner flapped discrediting hand at the pathetic half-dozen +castaways poking among the rocks for mussels with which to stay their +hunger.</p> + +<p>"Me get in a boat again with that outfit? Why, I wouldn't ride acrost +a duck pond in an ocean liner with 'em unless they were crated and +battened below hatches." He smacked his hard fist into his palm. +"There they straddle, like crows on new-ploughed land, huntin' for +something to eat, and no thought above it, and there ain't one of +'em come to a reelizin' sense yet that they committed a State Prison +offence last night when they mutinied and locked me into my own cabin +like a cat in a coop. Now I don't want to have any more trouble over +it with you, Hiram, for we've been too good friends, and will try +to continner so after this thing is over and done with, but if you +or that gang of up-country sparrer-hawks stick your fingers or your +noses into this business that I'm in now, I'll give the lobsters and +cunners round this island just six good hearty meals. Now, that's +the business end, and it's whittled pickid, and you want to let alone +of it!"</p> + +<p>He struggled up and strode away across the little valley between the +stronghold of Colonel Ward and his own hillock.</p> + +<p>Colonel Ward stood up when he saw him approaching, and Butts, after +getting busy with something on the ground, stood up, also. When the +Cap'n got nearer he noted that Butts had his arms full of rocks.</p> + +<p>"Dunk," called Cap'n Sproul, placatingly, pausing at a hostile +movement, "you've had quite a long yarn with that critter there, +who's been fillin' you up with lies about me, and now it's only fair +that as an old shipmate you should listen to my side. I—"</p> + +<p>"You bear off!" blustered Mr. Butts. "You hold your own course, +'cause the minute you get under my bows I'll give you a broadside +that will put your colors down. You've kicked me the last time you're +ever goin' to."</p> + +<p>"I was thinkin' it was a belayin'-pin that time aboard the <i>Benn</i>," +muttered the Cap'n. "I guess I must have forgot and kicked him." Then +once again he raised his voice in appeal. "You're the first seafarin' +man I know of that left your own kind to take sides with a land-pirut."</p> + +<p>"You ain't seafarin' no more," retorted Mr. Butts, insolently. "Talk +to me of bein' seafarin' with that crowd of jays you've got round +you! You ain't northin' but moss-backs and bunko-men." Cap'n Sproul +glanced over his shoulder at the men of Smyrna and groaned under his +breath. "I never knowed a seafarin' man to grow to any good after +he settled ashore. Havin' it in ye all the time, you've turned out +a little worse than the others, that's all."</p> + +<p>Mr. Butts continued on in this strain of insult, having the advantage +of position and ammunition and the mind to square old scores. And +after a time Cap'n Sproul turned and trudged back across the valley.</p> + +<p>There was such ferocity on his face when he sat down by his fire that +Hiram Look gulped back the questions that were in his throat. He +recognized that it was a crisis, realized that Cap'n Sproul was +autocrat, and refrained from irritating speech.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XXIV</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>By noon the sun shone on Cod Lead wanly between ragged clouds. But +its smile did not warm Cap'n Sproul's feelings. Weariness, +rheumatism, resentment that became bitterer the more he pondered on +the loss of the <i>Dobson</i>, and gnawing hunger combined to make a single +sentiment of sullen fury; the spectacle of Colonel Ward busy with +his schemes on the neighboring pinnacle sharpened his anger into +something like ferocity.</p> + +<p>The wind had died into fitful breaths. The sea still beat furiously +on the outer ledges of the island, but in the reach between the island +and the distant main there was a living chance for a small boat. It +was not a chance that unskilful rowers would want to venture upon, +but given the right crew the Cap'n reflected that he would be willing +to try it.</p> + +<p>Evidently Mr. Butts, being an able seaman, was reflecting upon +something of the same sort. The Portuguese sailors, the last one of +the departing four dodging a kick launched at him by Mr. Butts, went +down to the shore, pulled the abandoned dingy upon the sand, and +emptied the water out of it. They fished the oars out of the flotsam +in the cove. Then they sat down on the upturned boat, manifestly under +orders and awaiting further commands.</p> + +<p>"Then ye're goin' to let 'em do it, be ye?" huskily asked Hiram. +"Goin' to let him get to the bank and stop payment on that check? +I tell you the boys can get that boat away from 'em! It better be +smashed than used to carry Gid Ward off'm this island."</p> + +<p>But Cap'n Sproul did not interrupt his bitter ruminations to reply. +He merely shot disdainful glance at the Smyrna men, still busy among +the mussels.</p> + +<p>It was apparent that Mr. Butts had decided that he would feel more +at ease upon his pinnacle until the hour arrived for embarkation. +In the game of stone-throwing, should Cap'n Sproul accept that gage +of battle, the beach was too vulnerable a fortress, and, like a +prudent commander, Mr. Butts had sent a forlorn hope onto the +firing-line to test conditions. This was all clear to Cap'n Sproul. +As to Mr. Butts's exact intentions relative to the process of getting +safely away, the Cap'n was not so clear.</p> + +<p>"Portygees!" he muttered over and over. "There's men that knows winds, +tides, rocks, shoals, currents, compass, and riggin' that don't know +Portygees. It takes a master mariner to know Portygees. It takes +Portygees to know a master mariner. They know the language. They know +the style. They get the idee by the way he looks at 'em. It's what +he says and the way he says it. Second mates ain't got it. P'r'aps +I ain't got it, after bein' on shore among clodhoppers for two years. +But, by Judas Iscarrot, I'm goin' to start in and find out! Portygees! +There's Portygees! Here's me that has handled 'em—batted brains +into 'em as they've come over the side, one by one, and started 'em +goin' like I'd wind up a watch! And a belayin'-pin is the key!"</p> + +<p>He arose with great decision, buttoned his jacket, cocked his cap +to an angle of authority on his gray hair, and started down the hill +toward the boat.</p> + +<p>"He's goin' to call in his bunko-men and take that boat," bleated +Mr. Butts to Colonel Ward.</p> + +<p>"Wild hosses couldn't drag him into a boat again with those human +toadstools, and I've heard him swear round here enough to know it," +scoffed the Colonel. "He's just goin' down to try to wheedle your +sailors like he tried to wheedle you, and they're your men and he +can't do it."</p> + +<p>And in the face of this authority and confidence in the situation +Mr. Butts subsided, thankful for an excuse to keep at a respectful +distance from Cap'n Aaron Sproul.</p> + +<p>That doughty expert on "Portygees" strode past the awed crew with +an air that they instinctively recognized as belonging to the +quarter-deck. Their meek eyes followed him as he stumped into the +swash and kicked up two belaying-pins floating in the debris. He took +one in each hand, came back at them on the trot, opening the +flood-gates of his language. And they instinctively recognized that +as quarter-deck, too. They knew that no mere mate could possess that +quality of utterance and redundancy of speech.</p> + +<p>He had a name for each one as he hit him. It was a game of "Tag, you're +it!" that made him master, in that moment of amazement, from the mere +suddenness of it. A man with less assurance and slighter knowledge +of sailorman character might have been less abrupt—might have given +them a moment in which to reflect. Cap'n Aaron Sproul kept them +going—did their thinking for them, dizzied their brains by thwacks +of the pins, deafened their ears by his terrific language.</p> + +<p>In fifteen seconds they had run the dingy into the surf, had shipped +oars, and were lustily pulling away—Cap'n Sproul in the stern +roaring abuse at them in a way that drowned the howls of Mr. Butts, +who came peltering down the hill.</p> + +<p>But Hiram Look was even more nimble than that protesting seaman.</p> + +<p>Before the little craft was fairly under way he plunged into the surf +waist-deep and scrambled over the stern, nearly upsetting the Cap'n +as he rolled in.</p> + +<p>And Imogene, the elephant, a faithful and adoring pachyderm, pursued +her lord and master into the sea.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul, recovering his balance and resuming his interrupted +invective, was startled by the waving of her trunk above his head, +and his rowers quit work, squealing with terror, for the huge beast +was making evident and desperate attempts to climb on board and join +her fleeing owner. It was a rather complicated crisis even for a +seaman, accustomed to splitting seconds in his battling with +emergencies. An elephant, unusual element in marine considerations, +lent the complication.</p> + +<p>But the old sea-dog who had so instantly made himself master of men +now made himself master of the situation, before the anxious Imogene +had got so much as one big foot over the gunwale. He picked up the +late-arriving Jonah, and, in spite of Hiram's kicks and curses, +jettisoned him with a splash that shot spray over the pursuing +elephant and blinded her eyes.</p> + +<p>"Row—row, you blue-faced sons of Gehenna, or she'll eat all four +of you!" shrieked the Cap'n; and in that moment of stress they rowed! +Rowed now not because Cap'n Sproul commanded—nor ceased from rowing +because Mr. Butts countermanded. They rowed for their own lives to +escape the ravening beast that had chased them into the sea.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul, watching his chance, took a small wave after the +seventh big roller, let it cuff his bow to starboard, and made for +the lee of Cod Lead, rounding the island into the reach. He was safely +away and, gazing into the faces of the Portuguese, he grimly +reflected that for impressed men they seemed fully as glad to be away +as he. They rowed now without further monition, clucking, each to +himself, little prayers for their safe deliverance from the beast.</p> + +<p>It was not possible, with safety, to cut across the reach straight +for the main, so the Cap'n quartered his course before the wind and +went swinging down the seas, with little chance of coming soon to +shore, but confident of his seamanship.</p> + +<p>But that seamanship was not sufficient to embolden him into an +attempt to dodge a steamer with two masts and a dun funnel that came +rolling out from behind Eggemoggin and bore toward him up the reach. +He was too old a sailor not to know that she was the patrol cutter +of the revenue service; wind and sea forced him to keep on across +her bows.</p> + +<p>She slowed her engines and swung to give him a lee. Cap'n Sproul swore +under his breath, cursed aloud at his patient rowers, and told them +to keep on. And when these astonishing tactics of a lonely dingy in +a raging sea were observed from the bridge of the cutter, a red-nosed +and profane man, who wore a faded blue cap with peak over one ear, +gave orders to lower away a sponson boat, and came himself as coxswain, +as though unwilling to defer the time of reckoning with such +recalcitrants.</p> + +<p>"What in billy-be-doosen and thunderation do you mean, you +weevil-chawers, by not coming alongside when signalled—and us with +a dozen wrecks to chase 'longshore?" he demanded, laying officious +hand on the tossing gunwale of the dingy.</p> + +<p>"We're attendin' strictly to our own business, and the United States +Govvument better take pattern and go along and mind its own," +retorted Cap'n Sproul, with so little of the spirit of gratitude that +a shipwrecked mariner ought to display that the cutter officer glared +at him with deep suspicion.</p> + +<p>"What were you mixed up in—mutiny or barratry?" he growled. "We'll +find out later. Get in here!"</p> + +<p>"This suits me!" said Cap'n Sproul, stubbornly.</p> + +<p>The next moment he and his Portuguese were yanked over the side of +the boat into the life-craft—a dozen sturdy chaps assisting the +transfer.</p> + +<p>"Let the peapod go afloat," directed the gruff officer. "It's off +the <i>Polyhymnia</i>—name on the stern-sheets—evidence enough—notice, +men!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not off the <i>Polyhymnia</i>," protested Cap'n Sproul, indignantly. +"I was goin' along 'tendin' to my own business, and you can't—"</p> + +<p>"Business?" sneered the man of the faded blue cap. "I thought you +were out for a pleasure sail! You shut up!" he snapped, checking +further complaints from the Cap'n. "If you've got a story that will +fit in with your crazy-man actions, then you can wait and tell it +to the court. As for me, I believe you're a gang of mutineers!" And +after that bit of insolence the Cap'n was indignantly silent.</p> + +<p>The cutter jingled her full-speed bell while the tackle was still +lifting the sponson boat.</p> + +<p>"They're ugly, and are hiding something," called the man of the faded +cap, swinging up the bridge-ladder. "No good to pump more lies out +of them. We'll go where they came from, and we'll get there before +we can ask questions and get straight replies."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul, left alone on the cutter's deck, took out his big wallet, +abstracted that fifteen-thousand-dollar check signed by Gideon Ward, +and seemed about to fling it into the sea.</p> + +<p>"Talk about your hoodoos!" he gritted. "Talk about your banana skins +of Tophet! Twice I've slipped up on it and struck that infernal island. +Even his name written on a piece of paper is a cuss to the man that +lugs it!"</p> + +<p>But after hale second thought he put the check back into his wallet +and the wallet into his breast pocket and buttoned his coat securely. +And the set of his jaws and the wrinkling of his forehead showed that +the duel between him and Colonel Ward was not yet over.</p> + +<p>As the steamer with the dun smoke-stack approached Cod Lead he noted +sourly the frantic signallings of the marooned. He leaned on the rail +and watched the departure of the officer of the faded blue cap with +his crew of the sponson boat. He observed the details of the animated +meeting of the rescuers and the rescued. Without great astonishment +he saw that Hiram, of all the others, remained on shore, leaning +disconsolately against the protecting bulk of Imogene.</p> + +<p>"It's most a wonder he didn't try to load that infernal elephant onto +that life-boat," he muttered. "If I couldn't travel through life +without bein' tagged by an old gob of meat of that size, I'd hire +a museum and settle down in it."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul, still leaning on the rail, paid no attention to the +snort that Colonel Ward emitted as he passed on his way to the +security of the steamer's deck. He resolutely avoided the +reproachful starings of the members of the Smyrna fire department +as they struggled on board. Mr. Butts came last and attempted to say +something, but retreated promptly before the Cap'n's fiendish snarl +and clicking teeth.</p> + +<p>"That man there, with the elephant, says he can't leave her," +reported Faded Cap to the wondering group on the bridge.</p> + +<p>"A United States cutter isn't sent out to collect menageries +accompanied by dry-nurses," stated the commander. "What is this job +lot, anyway—a circus in distress?"</p> + +<p>"Says the elephant can swim out if we'll rig a tackle and hoist her +on board. Says elephant is used to it."</p> + +<p>Something in the loneliness of the deserted two on Cod Lead must have +appealed to the commander. He was profane about it, and talked about +elephants and men who owned them in a way that struck an answering +chord in the Cap'n's breast. But he finally gave orders for the +embarkation of Imogene, and after much more profanity and more slurs +which Hiram was obliged to listen to meekly, the task was +accomplished, and the cutter proceeded on her way along coast on +further errands of mercy.</p> + +<p>And then the Cap'n turned and gazed on Hiram, and the showman gazed +on the Cap'n. The latter spoke first.</p> + +<p>"Hiram," he said, "it ain't best for you and me to talk this thing +over, just as it stands now—not till we get back to Smyrna and set +down on my front piazzy. P'r'aps things won't look so skeow-wowed +then to us as they do now. We won't talk till then."</p> + +<p>But the captain of the cutter was not as liberal-minded. In the +process of preparing his report he attempted to interview both the +Cap'n and Colonel Ward at the same time in his cabin, and at the height +of the riot of recriminations that ensued was obliged to call in some +deck-hands and have both ejected. Then he listened to them separately +with increasing interest.</p> + +<p>"When you brought this family fight down here to sprinkle salt water +on it," he said at last, having the two of them before him again, +with a deck-hand restraining each, "you didn't get it preserved well +enough to keep it from smelling. I don't reckon I'll stir it. It +doesn't seem to be a marine disaster. The United States Government +has got other things to attend to just now besides settling it. +Listen!"</p> + +<p>He held up a forefinger.</p> + +<p>"Smyrna isn't so far away from the seashore but what I've had plenty +of chances to hear of Colonel Gideon Ward and his general dealings +with his neighbors. For myself, I'd rather have less money and a +reputation that didn't spread quite so far over the edges. As for +you, Cap'n Sproul, as a seaman I can sympathize with you about getting +cheated by land-pirates in that timber-land deal and in other things. +But as a representative of the Government I'm not going to help you +make good to the extent of fifteen thousand dollars on a hole and +a Cap Kidd treasure fake. Hands off for me, seeing that it's a matter +strictly in the family! This cutter is due to round to in Portland +harbor to-morrow morning a little after nine o'clock. I'll send the +two of you in my gig to Commercial Wharf, see that both are landed +at the same time, and then—well"—the commander turned quizzical +gaze from one to the other with full appreciation of the +situation—"it then depends on what you do, each of you, and how quick +you do it."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n walked out of the room, his hand on his breast pocket. +Colonel Ward followed, closing and unclosing his long fingers as if +his hands itched to get at that pocket.</p> + +<p>At the first peep of dawn Cap'n Aaron Sproul was posted at the +cutter's fore windlass, eyes straight ahead on the nick in the low, +blue line of coast that marked the harbor's entrance. His air was +that of a man whose anxiety could not tolerate any post except the +forepeak. And to him there came Hiram Look with tremulous eagerness +in his voice and the weight of a secret in his soul.</p> + +<p>"I heard him and Butts talkin' last night, Cap'n Aaron," he announced. +"It was Butts that thought of it first. The telefoam. 'Run into the +first place and grab a telefoam,' says Butts. 'Telefoam 'em at the +bank to stop payment. It will take him ten minutes to run up from +the wharf. Let him think you're right behind him. He's got to go to +the bank,' says Butts. 'He can't telefoam 'em to pay the check.'"</p> + +<p>The Cap'n's hand dropped dispiritedly from his clutch at his pocket.</p> + +<p>"I knowed something would stop me," he mourned. "The whole plot is +a hoodoo. There I was fired back twice onto Cod Lead! Here he is, +landin' the same time as I do! And when he stops that check it throws +it into law—and I've got the laborin'-oar."</p> + +<p>"It ain't throwed into law yet, and you ain't got no laborin'-oar," +cried Hiram, with a chuckle that astonished the despondent Cap'n. +"He can't telefoam!"</p> + +<p>"Can't what?"</p> + +<p>"Why, stayin' out in that rain-storm has give him the most jeeroosly +cold there's been sence Aunt Jerushy recommended thoroughwort tea! +It's right in his thro't, and he ain't got so much voice left as wind +blowing acrost a bottle. Can't make a sound! The bank folks ain't +goin' to take any one's say-so for him. Not against a man like you +that's got thutty thousand dollars in the same bank, and a man that +they know! By the time he got it explained to any one so that they'd +mix in, you can be at the bank and have it all done."</p> + +<p>"Well, he ain't got cold in his legs, has he?" demanded the Cap'n, +failing to warm to Hiram's enthusiasm. "It stands jest where it has +been standin'. There ain't no reason why he can't get to that bank +as quick as I can. Yes, quicker! I ain't built up like an ostrich, +the way he is."</p> + +<p>"Well," remarked Hiram, after a time, "a fair show and an even start +is more'n most folks get in this life—and you've got that. The boss +of this boat is goin' to give you that much. So all you can do is +to take what's given you and do the best you can. And all I can do +is stay back here and sweat blood and say the only prayer that I know, +which is 'Now I lay me down to sleep.'"</p> + +<p>And after this bit of consolation he went back amidships to comfort +the hungry Imogene, who had been unable to find much in the cuisine +of a revenue cutter that would satisfy the appetite of elephants.</p> + +<p>At half-past nine in the forenoon the cutter swept past Bug Light +and into the inner harbor. Hardly had the steamer swung with the tide +at her anchorage before the captain's gig was proceeding briskly +toward Commercial Wharf, two men rowing and the man of the faded blue +cap at the helm. The antagonists in the strange duello sat back to +back, astraddle a seat. At this hateful contact their hair seemed +fairly to bristle.</p> + +<p>"Now, gents," said Faded Cap, as they approached the wharf, "the +skipper said he wanted fair play. No scrougin' to get out onto the +ladder first. I'm goin' to land at the double ladder at the end of +the wharf, and there's room for both of you. I'll say 'Now!' and then +you start."</p> + +<p>"You fellers are gettin' a good deal of fun out this thing," sputtered +Cap'n Sproul, angrily, "but don't you think I don't know it and resent +it. Now, don't you talk to me like you were startin' a foot-race!"</p> + +<p>"What is it, if it ain't a foot-race?" inquired Faded Cap, calmly. +"They don't have hacks or trolley-cars on that wharf, and you'll +either have to run or fly, and I don't see any signs of wings on you."</p> + +<p>Colonel Ward did not join in this remonstrance. He only worked his +jaws and uttered a few croaks.</p> + +<p>When the gig surged to the foot of the ladder, Colonel Ward attempted +a desperate play, and an unfair one. He was on the outside, and leaped +up, stepped on Cap'n Sproul, and sprang for the ladder. The Cap'n +was quick enough to grab his legs, yank him back into the boat, and +mount over him in his turn. The man of the faded cap was nearly stunned +by Ward falling on him, and the rowers lost their oars.</p> + +<p>When the Colonel had untangled himself from the indignant seamen and +had escaped up the ladder, Cap'n Sproul was pelting up the wharf at +a most amazing clip, considering his short legs. Before Ward had +fairly gathered himself for the chase his fifteen-thousand-dollar +check and the man bearing it had disappeared around a corner into +the street.</p> + +<p>But the squat and stubby old sailor stood little show in a foot-race +with his gaunt and sinewy adversary. It was undoubtedly Colonel +Ward's knowledge of this that now led him to make the race the test +of victory instead of depending on an interpreter over the telephone. +A little more than a block from the wharf's lane he came up with and +passed his adversary. Men running for trolley-cars and steamboats +were common enough on the busy thoroughfare, and people merely made +way for the sprinters.</p> + +<p>But when Colonel Ward was a few lengths ahead of the Cap'n, the latter +made use of an expedient that the voiceless Colonel could not have +employed even if he had thought of it.</p> + +<p>With all the force of his seaman's lungs he bellowed: "Stop thief!" +and pounded on behind, reiterating the cry vociferously. At first +he had the pursuit all to himself, for bystanders merely ducked to +one side. But earnest repetition compels attention, and attention +arouses interest, and interest provokes zeal. In a little while a +dozen men were chasing the Colonel, and when that gentleman went +lashing around the corner into Congress Street he—by an entirely +natural order of events—ran into a policeman, for the policeman was +running in the opposite direction to discover what all that +approaching hullabaloo was about.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul, prudently on the outskirts of the gathering crowd, +noted with rising hope that the policeman and the Colonel were +rolling over each other on the ground, and that even when officious +hands had separated them the facial contortions of the voiceless +tyrant of Smyrna were not making any favorable impression on the +offended bluecoat.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul started away for the bank at a trot. But he began to +walk when he heard the policeman shout: "Aw, there's enough of ye'r +moonkey faces at me. Yez will coome along to th' station, and talk +it on yer fingers to th' marshal!"</p> + +<p>At the bank door the Cap'n halted, wiped his face, composed his +features, set on his cap at an entirely self-possessed angle, and +then marched in to the wicket.</p> + +<p>"Will you have this transferred to your account, Captain Sproul?" +inquired the teller, with the deference due to a good customer.</p> + +<p>The Cap'n anxiously bent a stubbed finger around a bar of the grating. +Sudden anxiety as to leaving the money there beset him. After his +perils and his toils he wanted to feel that cash—to realize that +he had actually cashed in that hateful check.</p> + +<p>"I'll take the real plasters," he said, huskily; "big ones as you've +got. I—I want to pay for some vessel property!" He reflected that +the few hundreds that the loss of the ancient <i>Dobson</i> called for +lifted this statement out of the cheap level of prevarication.</p> + +<p>When he hurried out of the bank with various thick packets stowed +about his person, he headed a straight course for the police-station.</p> + +<p>In the marshal's office he found Colonel Gideon Ward, voiceless, +frantic, trembling—licking at the point of a stubby lead-pencil +that had been shoved into his grasp, and trying to compose his soul +sufficiently to write out some of the information about himself, with +which he was bursting.</p> + +<p>"There ain't no call for this man to write out the story of his life," +declared Cap'n Sproul, with an authority in his tones and +positiveness in his manner that did not fail to impress the marshal. +"He is my brother-in-law, he is Colonel Gideon Ward, of Smyrna, a +man with more'n a hundred thousand dollars, and any one that accuses +him of bein' a thief is a liar, and I stand here to prove it."</p> + +<p>And to think there was no one present except the Colonel to appreciate +the cryptic humor of that remark!</p> + +<p>The Cap'n avoided the demoniacal gaze that Ward bent on him and +disregarded the workings of that speechless mouth. Sproul shoved his +hand deep into his trousers pocket and pulled out a roll of bills +on which the teller's tape had not been broken. At this sight the +Colonel staggered to his feet.</p> + +<p>"Here!" cried the Cap'n, shoving money into the hand of the officer +who had made the arrest. "There's something to pay for your muddy +clothes. Now you'd better go out and find the man that started all +this touse about a leadin' citizen. I'll sue this city as a relative +of his if you don't let him go this minute."</p> + +<p>And they let him go, with an apology that Colonel Ward treated with +perfectly insulting contempt.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul faced him on the street outside the prison, standing +prudently at guard, for he perfectly realized that just at that +moment Colonel Gideon Ward had all the attributes of a lunatic.</p> + +<p>"You can see it bulgin' all over me," said the Cap'n, "all tied up +in bundles. I don't say my way was the best way to get it. But I've +got it. I suppose I might have gone to law to get it, but that ain't +my way. Of course you can go to law to get it back; but for reasons +that you know just as well as I, I'd advise you not to—and that advice +don't cost you a cent."</p> + +<p>For a full minute Colonel Ward stood before him and writhed his gaunt +form and twisted his blue lips and waggled his bony jaws. But not +a sound could he utter. Then he whirled and signalled a trolley-car +and climbed on board. With intense satisfaction the Cap'n noted that +the car was marked "Union Station."</p> + +<p>"Well, home is the best place for him," muttered the Cap'n; "home +and a flaxseed poultice on his chist and complete rest of mind and +body. Now I'll settle for that schooner, hunt up Hime Look and that +pertickler and admirin' friend of his, that infernal elephant, and +then I reckon I'll—eraow-w-w!" he yawned. "I'll go home and rest +up a little, too."</p> + +<p>That repose was not disturbed by Colonel Gideon Ward. The Colonel +had decided that affairs in his timber tracts needed his attention +during that autumn.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XXV</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>Events do bunch themselves strangely, sometimes.</p> + +<p>They bunched in Smyrna as follows:</p> + +<p>1. The new monument arrived for Batson Reeves's graveyard lot in +which was interred the first Mrs. Reeves; monument a belated arrival.</p> + +<p>2. The announcement was made that Batson Reeves had at last caught +a new wife in the person of Widow Delora Crymble, wedding set for +Tuesday week.</p> + +<p>3. Dependence Crymble, deceased husband of Delora, reappeared on +earth. This latter event to be further elaborated.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman of Smyrna, on his way from his +home to the town office, found several men leaning on the graveyard +fence, gazing over into the hallowed precincts of the dead with +entire lack of that solemnity that is supposed to be attached to +graveyards. It was on the morning following the last stroke of work +on the Reeves monument.</p> + +<p>The Reeves monument, a wholly unique affair, consisted of a +life-sized granite figure of Mr. Reeves standing on a granite +pedestal in the conventional attitude of a man having his photograph +taken. His head was set back stiffly, the right foot was well advanced, +and he held a round-topped hat in the hook of his elbow.</p> + +<p>On the pedestal was carved:</p> + +<center> +<p>ERECTED TO THE MEMORY OF</p> +<h3>LOANTHA REEVES,</h3> +<p>WIFE OF BATSON REEVES, ACCORDING TO HER<br> +LAST REQUEST.</p> +</center> + +<p>It may be said in passing that Mrs. Reeves, having entertained a very +exalted opinion of Mr. Reeves during life, left a portion of her own +estate in the hands of trustees in order that this sentinel figure +should stand guard above her in the sunshine and the rain. The idea +was poetic. But Cap'n Sproul, joining the hilarious group at the +graveyard fence, noted that some gruesome village humorist had +seriously interfered with the poetic idea. Painted on a planed board +set up against the monument was this:</p> + +<p> I'm Watching Here Both Night and Day,<br> + So Number One Can't Get Away.</p> + +<p>"That's kind o' pat, Cap'n, considerin' he's goin' to get married +to Number Two next week," suggested one of the loungers.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul scowled into the grin that the other turned on him.</p> + +<p>"I ain't got any regard for a human dogfish like Bat Reeves," he +grunted, his heart full of righteous bitterness against a proclaimed +enemy, "but as first selectman of this town I don't stand for makin' +a comic joke-book out of this cemetery." He climbed over the fence, +secured the offending board and split it across his broad toe. Then +with the pieces under his arm he trudged on toward the town office, +having it in his mind to use the board for kindling in the barrel +stove.</p> + +<p>One strip he whittled savagely into shavings and the other he broke +into fagots, and when the fire was snapping merrily in the rusty stove +he resumed a labor upon which he had been intent for several days. +Predecessors in office had called it "writing the town report." Cap'n +Sproul called it "loggin' the year's run."</p> + +<p>A pen never did hang easy in the old shipmaster's stiff fingers. The +mental travail of this unwonted literary effort wrung his brain. An +epic poet struggling with his masterpiece could not have been more +rapt. And his nerves were correspondingly touchy. Constable Zeburee +Nute, emerging at a brisk trot from the town office, had a warning +word of counsel for all those intending to venture upon the first +selectman's privacy. He delivered it at Broadway's store.</p> + +<p>"Talk about your r'yal Peeruvian tigers with eighteen rings on their +tails! He's settin' there with his hair standin' straight up and ink +on his nose and clear to his elbows, and he didn't let me even get +started in conversation. He up and throwed three ledger-books and +five sticks of wood at me, and—so I come away," added Mr. Nute, +resignedly. "I don't advise nobody to go in there."</p> + +<p>However, the warning delivered at Broadway's store did not reach a +certain tall, thin man; for the tall, thin man stalked straight +through the village and up to the door inscribed "Selectman's +Office." In his hand he carried a little valise about as large as +a loaf of yeast bread. The shrewish December wind snapped trousers +about legs like broom-handles. Black pads were hugged to his ears +by a steel strip that curved behind his head, and he wore a hard hat +that seemed merely to perch insecurely on his caput instead of fit. +Constable Nute, getting a glimpse of him through the store-window, +remarked that with five minutes and a razor-strop he could put a +shaving edge on the stranger's visage, but added promptly when he +saw him disappear into the town office that some one could probably +get a job within the next five minutes honing the nicks out of that +edge.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul was just then absorbed in a task that he hated even worse +than literary composition. He was adding figures. They were the items +for road bills, and there were at least two yards of them on sheets +of paper pasted together, for nearly every voter in town was +represented. The Cap'n was half-way up one of the columns, and was +exercising all his mental grip to hold on to the slowly increasing +total on which he was laboriously piling units.</p> + +<p>"I am always glad to meet a man who loves figgers," remarked the +stranger, solemnly. He set his valise on the table and leaned over +the Cap'n's shoulder. "I have wonderful faculty for figgers. Give +me a number and I'll tell you the cube of it instantly, in the snap +of a finger."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul merely ground his teeth and shoved his nose closer to +the paper. He did not dare to look up. His whole soul was centred +in effort to "walk the crack" of that column.</p> + +<p>"I could do it when I was fifteen—and that was fifty years ago," +went on the thin man.</p> + +<p>The enunciation of those figures nearly put the Cap'n out of +commission, but with a gulp and after a mental stagger he marched +on.</p> + +<p>"Now give me figgers—tens or hundreds," pleaded the stranger. "I'll +give you the cube in one second—the snap of a finger. Since I see +you hesitate, we'll take sixteen—a very simple factor. Cube it!" +He clacked a bony finger into an osseous palm and cried: "Four +thousand and ninety-six!"</p> + +<p>That did it!</p> + +<p>"Ninety-six," repeated the Cap'n, dizzily; realizing that he had +bounced off the track, he rose, kicked his chair out from under him +and shoved a livid and infuriated visage into the thin man's face.</p> + +<p>"Whang-jacket your gor-righteously imperdence!" he bellowed, "what +do you mean by stickin' that fish-hawk beak of your'n into my business +and make me lose count? Get to Tophet out of here!"</p> + +<p>The stranger calmly removed his ear-pads and gazed on the furious +selectman with cold, gray and critical eyes.</p> + +<p>"Your suggestion as to destination is not well considered," he said. +"There is no hell. There is no heaven. I practically settled that +point the first time I died. The—"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul, without especial attention to this astonishing +announcement, was provoked beyond control by this stranger's +contemptuous stare. He grabbed up an ash-stick that served him for +a stove-poker.</p> + +<p>"Get out of here," he repeated, "or I'll peg you down through this +floor like a spike!"</p> + +<p>But the thin man simply gazed at him mournfully and sat down.</p> + +<p>"Havin' been killed three times—three times—dead by violent +means," he said, "I have no fear of death. Strike me—I shall not +resist."</p> + +<p>Even a bashi-bazouk must have quailed before that amazing +declaration and that patient resignation to fate. Cap'n Sproul +looked him up and down for many minutes and then tucked the smutty +ash-stick under the stove.</p> + +<p>"Well, what insane horsepittle did you get out of by crawlin' through +the keyhole?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I am not insane," remonstrated the thin man. "It is always easy +for fools in this world to blat that insult when a man announces +something that they don't understand. A man that knows enough to be +selectman of Smyrna hadn't ought to be a fool. I hope you are not. +But you mustn't blat like a fool."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul could not seem to frame words just then.</p> + +<p>"The first time I died," pursued his remarkable guest, "I was frozen +to death." He pulled up his trousers and showed a shank as shrunken +as a peg-leg. "All the meat came off. The second time I died, a hoss +kicked me on the head. The third time, a tree fell on me. And there +is no hell—there is no heaven. If there had been I'd have gone to +one place or the other."</p> + +<p>"If I was runnin' either place you wouldn't," said the Cap'n, sourly.</p> + +<p>The thin man crossed his legs and was beginning to speak, but the +first selectman broke in savagely: "Now look here, mister, this ain't +either a morgue, a receivin'-tomb, nor an undertaker's parlor. If +you want to get buried and ain't got the price I'll lend it to you. +If you want to start over again in life I'll pay for havin' your +birth-notice put into the newspaper. But you want to say what you +do want and get out of here. I've got some town business to 'tend +to, and I ain't got any time to spend settin' up with corpses."</p> + +<p>Again the man tried to speak. Again the Cap'n interrupted. "I ain't +disputin' a thing you say," he cried. "I'm admittin' everything, +'cause I haven't got time to argue. You may have been dead nine times +like a cat. I don't care. All is, you go along. You'll find +accommodations at the tavern, the graveyard, or the town farm, +whichever hits you best. I'm busy."</p> + +<p>But when he pulled his paper of figures under his nose again, the +thin man tapped his fleshless digit on the table.</p> + +<p>"You're the first selectman, aren't you?" he demanded.</p> + +<p>"That's what I be," returned the Cap'n, smartly.</p> + +<p>"Well, then, you got to pay attention to town business when it is +put before you. I've come here on town business. I used to live in +this town."</p> + +<p>"Was you buried here or was your remains taken away?" inquired the +Cap'n, genially, hoping that satire might drive out this unwelcome +disturber.</p> + +<p>"Oh, I died all three times after I left this town," said the thin +man, in matter-of-fact tones. "What I'm comin' at is this: my father +gave the land to this town to build the school-house on out in the +Crymble district. Deed said if the building was ever abandoned for +school purposes for five years running, land and buildin' came back +to estate. I came past that school-house to-day and I see it hasn't +been used."</p> + +<p>"We don't have school deestricks any more," explained the Cap'n. "We +transport scholars to the village here. That's been done for six +years and over."</p> + +<p>"Then I claim the school-house and land," declared the thin man.</p> + +<p>"You do, hey?"</p> + +<p>"I do. I've got tired of travellin' round over this world, and I'm +goin' to settle down. And that school-house is the only real estate +I've got to settle down in. I'll keep bach' hall there."</p> + +<p>"Who in thunderation are you, anyway?" demanded Cap'n Sproul, +propping himself on the table and leaning forward belligerently.</p> + +<p>"My name is Dependence Crymble," replied the other, quietly. "My +father was Hope-for-grace Crymble. Odd names, eh? But the Crymbles +were never like other folks."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul sat down hard in his chair and goggled at the thin man.</p> + +<p>"Say, look-here-you," he gasped at last. "There never could be more'n +one name like Dependence Crymble in this world. I ain't a native here +and I don't know you from Adam. But is your wife the Widow Delora +Crymble—I mean, was she—oh, tunk-rabbit it, I reckon I'm gettin' +as crazy as you are!"</p> + +<p>"I'm not insane," persisted the other. "I'm Dependence Crymble, and +I married Delora Goff. I've been away from here twenty years, but +I guess the old residents will recognize me, all right."</p> + +<p>"But," declared the Cap'n, floundering for a mental footing, "it's +always been said to me that Dependence Crymble died off—away +somewhere."</p> + +<p>"I've already told you I died," said the thin man, still mild but +firm. "That's right, just as you've heard it."</p> + +<p>"There's a stone in the graveyard to you," went on the Cap'n, clawing +his stubby fingers into his bristle of hair, "and they've always +called her 'Widder Crymble' and"—he stood up again and leaned +forward over the table in the attitude of Jove about to launch a +thunderbolt and gasped—"she's goin' to get married to Bat Reeves, +Tuesday of next week—and he's the most infernal scalawag in this +town, and he's took her after he's tried about every other old maid +and widder that's got property."</p> + +<p>The thin man did not even wince or look astonished. His querulous +mouth only dropped lower at the corners.</p> + +<p>"I don't care who marries her. She's a widder and can marry any one +she's got a mind to. I didn't come back here to mix in. She's welcome +to the property I left her. There was a will. It's hers. I've been +administered on according to law. All I want is that school-house +back from the town. That's mine by law."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul sat down once more.</p> + +<p>"Well," he said at last, with some indignation, "if you was dead and +wanted to stay dead and leave a widder and property and let her get +married again, and all that—what in the name of the yaller-bellied +skate-fish have ye come ghostin' round here for to tip everything +upside down and galley-west after it's been administered on and +settled? And it gets town business all mixed up!"</p> + +<p>The thin man smiled a wistful smile.</p> + +<p>"The poet says: 'Where'er we roam, the sky beneath, the heart sighs +for its native heath.' That's the sentiment side of it. But there's +a practical side. There's the school-house. It was worth passing this +way to find out whether the town had abandoned it—and I reckoned +it had, and I reckoned right. I have presentiments that come true. +I reckoned that probably the relict would put a stone in the graveyard +for me. I have a presentiment that I shall die twice more, staying +dead the fifth time I pass away. That will be here in this town, and +the gravestone won't be wasted."</p> + +<p>While the first selectman was still trying to digest this, the thin +man opened his valise. He took out a nickel plate that bore his name.</p> + +<p>"This is my casket-plate," he explained, forcing the grisly object +into the resisting hands of the Cap'n. "Friends ordered it for me +the first time I died. I've carried it with me ever since."</p> + +<p>"It must be a nice way of passin' a rainy Sunday," said the Cap'n, +sarcastically, pushing the plate back across the table; "set and look +at that and hum a pennyr'yal hymn! It's sartinly a rollickin' life +you're leadin', Mister Crymble."</p> + +<p>Mr. Crymble did not retort. On the contrary he asked, mildly, gazing +on the scattered sheets of paper containing the selectman's efforts +at town-report composition, "Do you write poetry, sir?"</p> + +<p>"Not by a—by a—" gasped the Cap'n, seeking ineffectually for some +phrase to express his ineffable disgust.</p> + +<p>"I was in hopes you did," continued Mr. Crymble, "for I would like +a little help in finishing my epitaph. I compose slowly. I have worked +several years on this epitaph, but I haven't finished it to suit me. +What I have got done reads":</p> + +<p>He unfolded a dirty strip of paper and recited:</p> + +<p> "There is no sting in death;<br> + Below this stone there lies<br> + A man who lost his mortal breath<br> + Three times—"</p> + +<p>Mr. Crymble looked up from the paper.</p> + +<p>"I have thought of 'And death defies.' But that might sound like +boasting."</p> + +<p>"End it up, 'And still he lies,'" growled Cap'n Sproul. But the thin +man meekly evaded the sarcasm.</p> + +<p>"That would be a repetition of the rhyme," he objected. "I see you +were right when you said you did not write poetry."</p> + +<p>"P'r'aps I ain't no poet," cried the Cap'n, bridling. "But I'm the +first selectman of this town, and I've got considerable to do with +runnin' it and keepin' things straightened out. You may be dead, but +you ain't buried yet. I've got two errunts for you. You go hunt up +Bat Reeves and tell him that the weddin' next Tuesday is all off, +and for good reasons—and that you're one of the reasons, and that +there are nine others just as good but which you haven't got time +to repeat. Then you go home to your wife and settle down, throw away +that coffin-plate, tear up that epitaph, and stop this dyin' habit. +It's a bad one to get into."</p> + +<p>"I won't do any such thing," returned the prodigal, stubbornly. "I +lived fifteen years with a woman that wouldn't let me smoke, busted +my cider jug in the cellar, jawed me from sun-up till bedtime, hid +my best clothes away from me like I was ten years old, wouldn't let +me pipe water from the spring, and stuck a jeroosly water-pail under +my nose every time I showed in sight of the house. I haven't died +three times, all by violent means, not to stay dead so far's she's +concerned. Now you tell me where to get the key to that school-house +and I'll move in."</p> + +<p>For the first time in their conversation Mr. Crymble dropped his meek +manner. His little eyes blazed. His drooping mouth snarled and his +yellow teeth showed defiantly. Cap'n Sproul always welcomed defiance. +It was the thin man's passive resignation at the beginning of their +acquaintance that caused the Cap'n to poke the ash-stick back under +the stove. Now he buttoned his pea-jacket, pulled his hat down firmly, +and spat first into one fist and then the other.</p> + +<p>"You can walk, Crymble, if you're a mind to and will go quiet," he +announced, measuring the other's gaunt frame with contemptuous eye. +"I'd rather for your sake that the citizens would see you walkin' +up there like a man. But if you won't walk, then I'll pick you up +and stick you behind my ear like a lead-pencil and take you there."</p> + +<p>"Where?"</p> + +<p>"To your house. Where else should a husband be goin' that's been +gallivantin' off for twenty years?"</p> + +<p>And detecting further recalcitrancy in the face of his visitor, he +pounced on him, scrabbled up a handful of cloth in the back of his +coat, and propelled him out of doors and up the street. After a few +protesting squawks Mr. Crymble went along.</p> + +<p>An interested group of men, who had bolted out of Broadway's store, +surveyed them as they passed at a brisk pace.</p> + +<p>"By the sacred codfish!" bawled Broadway, "if that ain't Dep Crymble! +How be ye, Dep?"</p> + +<p>Mr. Crymble lacked either breath or amiability. He did not reply to +the friendly greeting. Cap'n Sproul did that for him enigmatically. +"He's back from paradise on his third furlough," he cried.</p> + +<p>"And bound to hell," mourned Mr. Crymble, stumbling along before the +thrust of the fist at his back.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XXVI</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>The Crymble place was a full half mile outside the village of Smyrna, +but Cap'n Sproul and his victim covered the distance at a lively pace +and swung into the yard at a dog-trot. Batson Reeves was just +blanketing his horse, for in his vigorous courtship forenoon calls +figured regularly.</p> + +<p>"My Gawd!" he gulped, fronting the Cap'n and staring at his captive +with popping eyes, "I knowed ye had a turrible grudge agin' me, Sproul, +but I didn't s'pose you'd go to op'nin' graves to carry out your spite +and bust my plans."</p> + +<p>"He didn't happen to be anchored," retorted the Cap'n, with cutting +reference to the granite statue in Smyrna's cemetery. "Ahoy, the +house, there!"</p> + +<p>Mrs. Crymble had been hastening to the door, the sound of her suitor's +wagon-wheels summoning her. A glimpse of the tall figure in the yard, +secured past the leaves of the window geraniums, brought her out on +the run.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Delora Crymble, whose natural stock of self-reliance had been +largely improved by twenty years of grass-widowhood, was not easily +unnerved.</p> + +<p>But she staggered when searching scrutiny confirmed the dreadful +suspicion of that first glimpse through the geraniums. For +precaution's sake Cap'n Sproul still held Mr. Crymble by the +scrabbled cloth in the back of his coat, and that despairing +individual dangled like a manikin. But he braced his thin legs +stubbornly when the Cap'n tried to push him toward the porch.</p> + +<p>"If married couples are goin' to act like this on judgment mornin'," +muttered the mediator, "it will kind o' take the edge off'm the +festivities. Say, you two people, why don't you hoorah a few times +and rush up and hug and kiss and live happy ever after?"</p> + +<p>But as soon as Mrs. Crymble could get her thin lips nipped together +and her hands on her hips she pulled herself into her accustomed +self-reliant poise.</p> + +<p>"It's you, is it, you straddled-legged, whittled-to-a-pick-ed +northin' of a clothes-pin, you? You've sneaked back to sponge on me +in your old age after runnin' off and leavin' me with a run-down farm +and mortgidge! After sendin' me a marked copy of a paper with your +death-notice, and after your will was executed on and I wore mournin' +two years and saved money out of hen profits to set a stun' in the +graveyard for you! You mis'sable, lyin' 'whelp o' Satan!"</p> + +<p>"There wa'n't no lie to it," said Mr. Crymble, doggedly. "I did die. +I died three times—all by violent means. First time I froze to death, +second—"</p> + +<p>"Let up on that!" growled the Cap'n, vigorously shaking Mr. Crymble. +"This ain't no dime-novel rehearsal. It's time to talk business!"</p> + +<p>"You bet it's time to talk business!" affirmed the "widow." "I've +paid off the mortgidge on this place by hard, bone labor, and it's +willed to me and the will's executed, and now that you've been proved +dead by law, by swanny I'll make you prove you're alive by law before +you can set foot into this house."</p> + +<p>"And I'll go and buy the law for you!" cried Batson Reeves, stripping +the blanket off his horse. "I'll drive straight to my brother +Alcander's law office, and he'll find law so that a hard-workin' +woman can't be robbed of her own."</p> + +<p>"Oh, he'll find it, all right!" agreed the Cap'n, sarcastically. "And +if he don't find it ready-made he'll gum together a hunk to fit the +case. But in the mean time, here's a man—" he checked himself and +swung Mr. Crymble's hatchet face close to his own. "How much money +have you got?" he demanded. "Have you come back here strapped?"</p> + +<p>"I ain't got any money," admitted Mr. Crymble, "but I own a secret +how to cure stutterin' in ten lessons, and with that school-house +that—"</p> + +<p>"You don't dock in any school-house nor you don't marine railway into +our poorhouse, not to be a bill of expense whilst I'm first +selectman," broke in Cap'n Sproul with decision. "That's official, +and I've got a license to say it."</p> + +<p>"You think you've got a license to stick your nose into the business +of every one in this town because you're first selectman," roared +Reeves, whipping out of the yard; "but I'll get a pair of nippers +onto that old nose this time."</p> + +<p>"Here's your home till further orders," said the Cap'n, disregarding +the threat, "and into it you're goin'."</p> + +<p>He started Mr. Crymble toward the steps.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Crymble was pretty quick with the door, but Cap'n Sproul was +at the threshold just in time to shove the broad toe of his boot +between door and jamb. His elbows and shoulders did the rest, and +he backed in, dragging Mr. Crymble, and paid no attention whatever +to a half-dozen vigorous cuffs that Mrs. Crymble dealt him from +behind. He doubled Mr. Crymble unceremoniously into a calico-covered +rocking-chair, whipped off the hard hat and hung it up, and took from +Mr. Crymble's resisting hands the little valise that he had clung +to with grim resolution.</p> + +<p>"Now, said Cap'n Sproul, you are back once more in your happy home +after wanderin's in strange lands. As first selectman of this town +I congratulate you on gettin' home, and extend the compliments of +the season." He briskly shook Mr. Crymble's limp hand—a palm as +unresponsive as the tail of a dead fish. "Now," continued the Cap'n, +dropping his assumed geniality, "you stay here where I've put you. +If I catch you off'm these primises I'll bat your old ears and have +you arrested for a tramp. You ain't northin' else, when it comes to +law. I'm a hard man when I'm madded, Crymble, and if I start in to +keelhaul you for disobeyin' orders you'll—" The Cap'n did not +complete the sentence, but he bent such a look on the man in the chair +that he trembled through all his frail length.</p> + +<p>"I wisht I could have stayed dead," whimpered Mr. Crymble, thoroughly +spirit-broken.</p> + +<p>"It might have been better all around," agreed the Cap'n, cheerfully. +"But I ain't no undertaker. I'm a town official, sworn to see that +paupers ain't poked off onto the taxpayers. And if you want to keep +out of some pretty serious legal trouble, Mis' Crymble, you'll mind +your p's and q's—and you know what I mean!"</p> + +<p>Feeling a little ignorant of just what the law was in the case, Cap'n +Sproul chose to make his directions vague and his facial expression +unmistakable, and he backed out, bending impartial and baleful stare +on the miserable couple.</p> + +<p>When he got back to the town office he pen-printed a sign, "Keep Out," +tacked it upon the outer door, set the end of his long table against +the door for a barricade, and fell to undisturbed work on the figures. +And having made such progress during the day that his mind was free +for other matters in the evening, he trudged over to Neighbor Hiram +Look's to smoke with the ex-showman and detail to that wondering +listener the astonishing death-claims of the returned Mr. Crymble.</p> + +<p>"Grampy Long-legs, there, may think he's dead and may say he's dead," +remarked Hiram, grimly, "but it looks to me as though Bat Reeves was +the dead one in this case. He's lost the widder."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul turned luminous gaze of full appreciation on his friend.</p> + +<p>"Hiram," he said, "we've broke up a good many courtships for Reeves, +you and me have, but, speakin' frankly, I'd have liked to see him +get that Crymble woman. If she ain't blood kin to the general manager +of Tophet, then I'm all off in pedigree, I don't blame Crymble for +dyin' three times to make sure that she was a widder. If it wasn't +for administerin' town business right I'd have got him a spider-web +and let him sail away on it. As it is, I reckon I've scared him about +twenty-four hours' worth. He'll stick there in torment for near that +time. But about noon to-morrow he'll get away unless I scare him again +or ball-and-chain him with a thread and a buckshot."</p> + +<p>"I'm interested in freaks," said Hiram, "and I'll take this case off +your hands and see that the livin' skeleton don't get away until we +decide to bury him or put him in a show where he can earn an honest +livin'. Skeletons ain't what they used to be for a drawin'-card, but +I know of two or three punkin circuiters that might take him on."</p> + +<p>In view of that still looming incubus of the unfinished town report, +Cap'n Sproul accepted Hiram's offer with alacrity.</p> + +<p>"It ain't that I care so much about the critter himself," he confided, +"but Bat Reeves has got his oar in the case, and by to-morrow the +whole town will be watchin' to see which gets the upper hands."</p> + +<p>"I'll camp there," promised Hiram, "and I don't reckon they can do +old dead-and-alive to any great extent whilst I've got my eye on 'em."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul barricaded his door again the next day and disregarded +ordinary summons at the portal. But along in the afternoon came one +who, after knocking vainly, began to batter with fists and feet, and +when the first selectman finally tore open the door with full +determination to kick this persistent disturber off the steps, he +found Hiram Look there. And Hiram Look came in and thumped himself +into a chair with no very clearly defined look of triumph on his face.</p> + +<p>"He ain't dead again, is he?" demanded Cap'n Sproul, apprehensively.</p> + +<p>"No, he ain't, and that's where he loses," replied the old showman. +He chafed his blue nose and thumped his feet on the floor to warm +them. It was plain that he had been long exposed to the December wind.</p> + +<p>"Law," announced Hiram, "has got more wrinkles in it than there are +in a fake mermaid's tail. Do you know what kind of a game they've +gone to work and rigged up on your friend, the human curling-tongs? +The widder has got him to doin' chores again. It seems that she was +always strong on keepin' him doin' chores. He's peckin' away at that +pile of wood that's fitted and lays at the corner of the barn. He's +luggin' it into the woodshed, and three sticks at a time make his +legs bend like corset whalebones. Looks like he's got a good stiddy +job for all winter—and every once in a while she comes out and yaps +at him to prod him up."</p> + +<p>"Well, that gets him taken care of, all right," said the Cap'n, with +a sigh of relief.</p> + +<p>"Yes, he's taken care of," remarked Hiram, dryly. "But you don't +understand the thing yet, Cap'n. On top of that woodpile sets Bat +Reeves, lappin' the end of a lead-pencil and markin' down every time +old water-skipper there makes a trip."</p> + +<p>"Well, if it amuses him, it takes care of him, too," said the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Looks innercent, childlike, and sociable, hey?" inquired the +showman, sarcastically. "Well, you just listen to what I've dug up +about that. Bat Reeves has bought the strip of ground between the +woodpile and the shed door by some kind of a deal he's rigged up with +the widder, and with Alcander Reeves advisin' as counsel. And he's +got a stake set in the middle of that piece of ground and on that +stake is a board and on that board is painted: 'Trespassing Forbidden +on Penalty of the Law.' And him and that woman, by Alcander Reeves's +advice, are teaming that old cuss of a husband back and forth acrost +that strip and markin' down a trespass offence every time he lugs +an armful of wood."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n blinked his growing amazement.</p> + +<p>"And the scheme is," continued Hiram, "to have old law shark of an +Alcander, as trial justice, sentence the livin' skeleton on each +separate trespass offence, fine and imprisonment in default of +payment. Why, they've got enough chalked down against him now to make +up a hundred years' sentence, and he's travellin' back and forth +there as innercent of what they're tryin' to do as is the babe +unborn."</p> + +<p>"Can they do any such infernal thing as that in law?" demanded the +Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Blamed if I know. But I never see northin' yet they couldn't do in +law, if they see you comin' and got the bind on you."</p> + +<p>"Law!" roared Cap'n Sproul, clacking his hard fist on the table rim. +"Law will tie more knots in a man's business than a whale can tie +in a harpoon-line. There ain't no justice in it—only pickin's and +stealin's. Why, I had a mate once that was downed on T wharf in Bos'n +and robbed, and they caught the men, and the mate couldn't give +witness bonds and they locked him up with 'em, and the men got away +one night and wa'n't ever caught, and the result was the mate served +a jail sentence before they got his bonds matter fixed. It was just +the same as a jail sentence. He had to stay there."</p> + +<p>Hiram was fully as doleful in regard to the possibilities of the law.</p> + +<p>"Once they get old Soup-bone behind bars on them trespass cases," +he said, "he'll stay there, all right. They'll fix it somehow—you +needn't worry. I reckon they'll be arrestin' him any minute now. +They've got cases enough marked down."</p> + +<p>"We'll see about that," snapped the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>He buttoned his jacket and hurried into Hiram's team, which was at +the door. And with Hiram as charioteer they made time toward the +Crymble place. Just out of the village they swept past Constable +Zeburee Nute, whose slower Dobbin respectfully took the side of the +highway.</p> + +<p>"Bet ye money to mushmelons," mumbled Hiram as they passed, "he's +got a warrant from old Alcander and is on his way to arrest."</p> + +<p>"I know he is," affirmed the Cap'n. "Every time he sticks that old +tin badge on the outside of his coat he's on the war-path. Whip up, +Hiram!"</p> + +<p>From afar they spied the tall figure of Dependence Crymble passing +wraithlike to and fro across the yard.</p> + +<p>"Thirty days per sashay!" grunted Hiram. "That's the way they figger +it."</p> + +<p>Batson Reeves would have scrambled down from the top of the woodpile +when he saw Cap'n Sproul halt Crymble in his weary labor and draw +him to one side. But Hiram suggested to Mr. Reeves that he better +stay up, and emphasized the suggestion by clutching a stick of +stove-wood in each hand.</p> + +<p>"Crymble," huskily whispered the Cap'n, "I put ye here out of a good +meanin'—meanin' to keep ye out of trouble. But I'm afraid I've got +ye into it."</p> + +<p>"I told ye what she was and all about it," complained Mr. Crymble, +bitterly.</p> + +<p>"It ain't 'she,' it's—it's—" The Cap'n saw the bobbing head of +Nute's Dobbin heaving into sight around distant alders. "All is, you +needn't stay where I put ye."</p> + +<p>Mr. Crymble promptly dropped the three sticks of wood that he was +carrying.</p> + +<p>"But I don't want you to get too far off till I think this thing over +a little," resumed the Cap'n. "There ain't no time now. You ought +to know this old farm of your'n pretty well. You just go find a hole +and crawl into it for a while."</p> + +<p>"I'll do it," declared Mr. Crymble, with alacrity. "I knew you'd find +her out. Now that you're with me, I'm with you. I'll hide. You fix +'em. 'Tend to her first." He grabbed the Cap'n by the arm. "There's +a secret about that barnyard that no one knows but me. Blind his +eyes!"</p> + +<p>He pointed to Mr. Reeves. There was no time to delve into Mr. +Crymble's motives just then. There was just time to act. The blank +wall of the ell shut off Mrs. Crymble's view of the scene. Constable +Nute was still well down the road. There was only the basilisk Mr. +Reeves on the woodpile. Cap'n Sproul grabbed up a quilt spread to +air behind the ell, and with a word to Hiram as he passed him he +scrambled up the heap of wood. Hiram followed, and the next moment +they had hoodwinked the amazed Mr. Reeves and held him bagged +securely in the quilt.</p> + +<p>The Cap'n, with chin over his shoulder, saw Mr. Crymble scuff aside +some frozen dirt in a corner of the barnyard, raise a plank with his +bony fingers and insert his slender figure into the crevice disclosed, +with all the suppleness of a snake. The plank dropped over his head, +and his hiding-place was hidden. But while he and Hiram stood looking +at the place where Mr. Crymble had disappeared, there sounded a +muffled squawk from the depths, there was the dull rumble of rocks, +an inward crumbling of earth where the planks were, a puff of dust, +and stillness.</p> + +<p>"Gawd A'mighty!" blurted Hiram, aghast, "a dry well's caved in on +him."</p> + +<p>"I told him to find a hole and crawl into it," quavered the Cap'n, +fiddling trembling finger under his nose, "but I didn't tell him to +pull the hole in after him."</p> + +<p>Mr. Reeves, left free to extricate himself from the quilt, bellowed +to Mrs. Crymble and addressed the astonished Nute, who just then +swung into the yard.</p> + +<p>"They murdered that man, and I see 'em do it!" he squalled, and added, +irrelevantly, "they covered my head up so I couldn't see 'em do it."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Crymble, who had been dignifiedly keeping the castle till the +arrival of the constable, swooped upon the scene with hawk-like +swiftness.</p> + +<p>"This day's work will cost you a pretty penny, Messers Look and +Sproul," she shrilled. "Killin' a woman's husband ain't to be settled +with salve, a sorry, and a dollar bill, Messers Sproul and Look."</p> + +<p>"I reckon we're messers, all right," murmured the Cap'n, gazing +gloomily on the scene of the involuntary entombment of the +three-times-dead Crymble. "I couldn't prove that he was ever dead +in his life, but there's one thing I've seen with my own eyes. He +acted as his own sexton, and that's almost as unbelievable as a man's +comin' back to life again."</p> + +<p>"I ain't lookin' for him to come back this last time," remarked Hiram, +with much conviction; "unless there's an inch drain-pipe there and +he comes up it like an angleworm. Looks from this side of the surface +as though death, funeral service, interment, and mournin' was all +over in record time and without music or flowers."</p> + +<p>Batson Reeves brought the crowd.</p> + +<p>It was plainly one of the opportunities of his life.</p> + +<p>The word that he circulated, as he rattled down to Broadway's store +and back, was that Cap'n Sproul and Hiram Look had attacked him with +murderous intent, and that after he had bravely fought them off they +had wantonly grabbed Mr. Dependence Crymble, jabbed him down a hole +in the ground and kicked the hole in on him.</p> + +<p>"I've always vowed and declared they was both lunatics," cried the +returning Mr. Reeves. He darted accusatory finger at the +disconsolate pair where they stood gazing down upon the place of +Crymble's sepulture. "They was hatchin' a plot and I busted it, and +now this is what they've done for revenge. And I'll leave it to Mis' +Crymble herself, who stands there and who saw it all."</p> + +<p>Mrs. Crymble was in a state of mind to take the cue promptly, and +affirmed the charge with an inspirational wealth of detail and a +ferocity of shrill accusation that took effect on the crowd in spite +of the lack of logic. In moments of excitement crowds are not +discriminating. The Cap'n and Hiram gazed with some uneasiness on +the lowering faces.</p> + +<p>"They beat his brains out, gents," she screamed—"beat the brains +out of the husband that had just come home to me after roamin' the +wide world over. Hang 'em, I say! And I'll soap the clothes-line if +you'll do it!"</p> + +<p>"Ain't she a hell-cat, though!" muttered Hiram.</p> + +<p>"When I think of what I was tryin' to make that poor critter do," +said Cap'n' Sproul, absent-mindedly kicking a loosened clod into the +hole, "I'm ashamed of myself. I reckon he's better off down there +than up here. I don't wish him back."</p> + +<p>"If accused wish to say anything in their own defence it will be +heard," declaimed Squire Alcander, advancing from the gathering +throng. "Otherwise, Constable Nute will—"</p> + +<p>"Constable Nute will keep his distance from me," roared Cap'n Sproul, +"or he'll get his everlastin' come-uppance. I can stand a certain +amount of dum foolishness, and I serve notice that I've had full +amount served out. Now you loafers standin' round gawpin, you grab +anything that will scoop dirt and get to work diggin' here."</p> + +<p>"I don't propose to have no bill of expense run up on me," announced +Mrs. Crymble, "I've paid out for him all I'm goin' to, and I got done +long ago."</p> + +<p>"Bereaved and lovin' widder heard, neighbors and friends," said the +Cap'n, significantly. "Now go ahead, people, and believe what she +says about us, if you want to! Get to work here."</p> + +<p>"You sha'n't stir a shovelful of that dirt," declared Mrs. Crymble. +"You'll claim day's wages, every one of you."</p> + +<p>"Wages is cheaper in Chiny," said the Cap'n satirically. "You can +cable round and have him dug out from that side if you want to. But +I'm tellin' you right here and now that he's goin' to be dug out from +one side or the other."</p> + +<p>"He's dead and he's buried, ain't he?" demanded Reeves, rallying to +the support of the widow. "What more is there to do?"</p> + +<p>"Go down to the graveyard and get that stone of his and set it here," +replied Cap'n Sproul, with bitter sarcasm. "Go somewhere to get out +of my way here, for if you or any other human polecat, male or +female"—he directed withering glance at Mrs. Crymble—"gets in my +way whilst I'm doin' what's to be done, if we ain't heathen, I'll +split 'em down with this barn shovel." He had secured the implement +and tossed out the first shovelful.</p> + +<p>There were plenty of willing volunteers. They paid no attention to +the widow's reproaches. All who could, toiled with shovels. Others +lifted the dirt in buckets. At the end of half an hour Cap'n Sproul, +who was deepest in the hole, uttered a sharp exclamation.</p> + +<p>"By the mud-hoofed mackinaw!" he shouted, waving his shovel to +command silence, "if he ain't alive again after bein' killed the +fourth time!"</p> + +<p>Below there was a muffled "tunk-tunk-tunk!" It was plainly the sound +of two rocks clacking together. It was appealing signal.</p> + +<p>Ten minutes later, furious digging brought the rescuers to a flat +rock, part of the stoning of the caved-in well. In its fall it had +lodged upon soil and rocks, and when it was raised, gingerly and +slowly, they found that, below in the cavern it had preserved, there +sat Mr. Crymble, up to his shoulders in dirt.</p> + +<p>"If some gent will kindly pass me a chaw of tobacker," he said, +wistfully, "it will kind of keep up my strength and courage till the +rest of me is dug up."</p> + +<p>When he had been lifted at last to the edge of the well he turned +dull eyes of resentment on Mrs. Crymble.</p> + +<p>"I wish there'd been a hole clear through to the Sandwich Isle or +any other heathen country," he said, sourly. "I'd have crawled there +through lakes of fire and seas of blood."</p> + +<p>She lifted her voice to vituperate, but his last clinch with death +seemed to have given Mr. Crymble a new sense of power and +self-reliance. He hopped up, gathered a handful of rocks and made +at his Xantippe. His aim was not too good and he did not hit her, +but he stood for several minutes and soulfully bombarded the door +that she slammed behind her in her flight.</p> + +<p>Then he came back and gathered more rocks from the scene of his recent +burial. He propped his thin legs apart, brandished a sizable missile, +and squalled defiance.</p> + +<p>"I've just died for the fourth time—killed by a well cavin' in on +me. There ain't no hell where I've been. And if there's any man here +that thinks he can shove me back into this hell on earth"—he shook +his fist at the house and singled Cap'n Sproul with flaming eye—"now +is the time for him to try to do it."</p> + +<p>"There ain't nobody goin' to try to do it," said the Cap'n, coming +up to him with frankly outstretched hand. He patted the rocks gently +from the arms of the indignant Mr. Crymble. "As a gen'ral thing I +stand up for matrimony and stand up for it firm—but I reckon I didn't +understand your case, Crymble. I apologize, and we'll shake hands +on it. You can have the school-house, and I'll do more'n that—I'll +pay for fixin' it over. And in the mean time you come up to my house +and make me a good long visit."</p> + +<p>He shoved ingratiating hand into the hook of the other's bony elbow +and led him away.</p> + +<p>"But I want my valise," pleaded Mr. Crymble.</p> + +<p>"You leave that coffin-plate and epitaph with her," said the Cap'n, +firmly. "You're in for a good old age and don't need 'em. And they +may cheer up Mis' Crymble from time to time. She needs cheerin' up."</p> + +<p>Hiram Look, following them out of the yard, yanked up the trespass +sign and advanced to Batson Reeves and brandished it over his head.</p> + +<p>"Gimme it!" he rasped.</p> + +<p>"What?" quavered Reeves.</p> + +<p>"That paper I stood here and watched you makin' up. Gimme it, or I'll +peg you like I peg tent-pegs for the big tent."</p> + +<p>And Reeves, having excellent ideas of discretion, passed over the +list of trespasses. He did not look up at the windows of the Crymble +house as he rode away with his brother, the squire. And what was +significant, he took away with him the neck-halter that, for +convenience' sake on his frequent calls, he had left hanging to the +hitching-post in the Crymble yard for many weeks.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XXVII</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>At last the Women's Temperance Workers' Union of Smyrna became +thoroughly indignant, in addition to being somewhat mystified.</p> + +<p>Twice they had "waited on" Landlord Ferd Parrott, of the Smyrna +tavern—twelve of them in a stern delegation—and he had simply +blinked at them out of his puckery eyes, and pawed nervously at his +weazened face, and had given them no satisfaction.</p> + +<p>Twice they had marched bravely into the town office and had faced +Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman, and had complained that Ferd +Parrott was running "a reg'lar rum-hole." Cap'n Sproul had nipped +his bristly beard and gazed away from them at the ceiling, and said +he would see what could be done about it.</p> + +<p>Mrs. Aaron Sproul, a devoted member of the W.T.W.'s, was appointed +a committee of one to sound him, and found him, even in the sweet +privacy of home, so singularly embarrassed and uncommunicative that +her affectionate heart was disturbed and grieved.</p> + +<p>Then came Constable Zeburee Nute into the presence of the town's +chief executive with a complaint.</p> + +<p>"They're gittin' worse'n hornicks round me," he whined, "them +Double-yer T. Double-yers. Want Ferd's place raided for licker. But +I understood you to tell me—"</p> + +<p>"I hain't told you northin' about it!" roared the Cap'n, with mighty +clap of open palm on the town ledger.</p> + +<p>"Well, you hain't give off orders to raid, seize and diskiver, libel +and destroy," complained the officer.</p> + +<p>"What be you, a 'tomatom that don't move till you pull a string, or +be you an officer that's supposed to know his own duty clear, and +follow it?" demanded the first selectman.</p> + +<p>"Constables is supposed to take orders from them that's above 'em," +declared Mr. Nute. "I'm lookin' to you, and the Double-yer T. +Double-yers is lookin' to you."</p> + +<p>"Well, if it's botherin' your eyesight, you'd better look t'other +way," growled the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Be I goin' to raid or ain't I goin' to raid?" demanded Constable +Nute. "It's for you to say!"</p> + +<p>"Look here, Nute," said the Cap'n, rising and aiming his forefinger +at the constable's nose as he would have levelled a bulldog revolver, +"if you and them wimmen think you're goin' to use me as a pie-fork +to lift hot dishes out of an oven that they've heated, you'd better +leave go—that's all I've got to say."</p> + +<p>"You might just as well know it's makin' talk," ventured the +constable, taking a safer position near the door. A queer sort of +embarrassment that he noted in the Cap'n's visage emboldened him. +"You know just as well as I do that Ferd Parrott has gone and took +to sellin' licker. Old Branscomb is goin' home tea-ed up reg'lar, +and Al Leavitt and Pud Follansby and a half a dozen others are settin' +there all times of night, playin' cards and makin' a reg'lar ha'nt +of it. If Ferd ain't shet up it will be said"—the constable looked +into the snapping eyes of the first selectman and halted +apprehensively.</p> + +<p>"It ain't that I believe any such thing, Cap'n Sproul," he declared +at last, breaking an embarrassing silence. "But here's them wimmen +takin' up them San Francisco scandals to study in their Current +Events Club, and when the officers here don't act when complaint is +made about a hell-hole right here in town, talk starts, and it ain't +complimentary talk, either. Pers'n'ly, I feel like a tiger strainin' +at his chain, and I'd like orders to go ahead."</p> + +<p>"Tiger, hey?" remarked the Cap'n, looking him up and down. "I knowed +you reminded me of something, but I didn't know what, before. Now, +if them wimmen—" he began with decision, but broke off to stare +through the town-office window. Mr. Nute stepped from the door to +take observation, too.</p> + +<p>Twelve women in single file were picking their way across the mushy +street piled with soft March snow.</p> + +<p>"Reckon the Double-yer T. Double-yers is goin' to wait on Ferd ag'in +to give him his final come-uppance," suggested the constable. "Heard +some talk of it yistiddy."</p> + +<p>The Smyrna tavern into which they disappeared was a huge hulk, relic +of the old days when the stage-coaches made the village their +headquarters. The storms of years had washed the paint from it; it +had "hogged" in the roof where the great square chimney projected +its nicked bulk from among loosened bricks scattered on the shingles; +and from knife-gnawed "deacon-seat" on the porch to window-blind, +dangling from one hinge on the broad gable, the old structure was +seedy indeed.</p> + +<p>"I kind of pity Ferd," mumbled the constable, his faded eyes on the +cracked door that the last woman had slammed behind her. "Hain't +averaged to put up one man a week for five years, and I reckon he's +had to sell rum or starve."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul made no observation. He still maintained that air of +not caring to discuss the affairs of the Smyrna tavern. He stared +at the building as though he rather expected to see the sides tumble +out or the roof fly up, or something of the sort.</p> + +<p>He did not bestow any especial attention on his friend Hiram Look +when the ex-circus man drove up to the hitching-post in front of the +town house with a fine flourish, hitched and came in.</p> + +<p>"Seems that your wife and mine have gone temperancin' again to-day +with the bunch," remarked Hiram, relighting his cigar. "I don't know +what difference it makes whether old Branscomb and the other soshes +round here get their ruin in an express-package or help Ferd to a +little business. They're bound to have it, anyway."</p> + +<p>"That ain't the p'int," protested Constable Nute, stiffly, throwing +back his coat to display his badge. "Ferd Parrott's breakin' the law, +and it hurts my feelin's as an officer to hear town magnates and +reprusentative citizens glossin' it over for him."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n stared at him balefully but did not trust himself to retort. +Hiram was not so cautious. He bridled instantly and insolently.</p> + +<p>"There's always some folks in this world ready to stick their noses +into the door-crack of a man's business when they know the man ain't +got strength to slam the door shut on 'em. Wimmen's clubs is all right +so long as they stick to readin' hist'ry and discussin' tattin', but +when they flock like a lot of old hen turkeys and go to peckin' a +man because he's down and can't help himself, it ain't anything but +persecution—wolves turnin' on another one that's got his leg broke. +I know animiles, and I know human critters. Them wimmen better be +in other business, and I told my wife so this mornin'."</p> + +<p>"So did I," said Cap'n Sproul, gloomily.</p> + +<p>"And mine up at me like a settin' hen."</p> + +<p>"So did mine," assented the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Gave me a lecture on duties of man to feller man."</p> + +<p>"Jest the same to my house."</p> + +<p>"Have any idea who's been stuffin' their heads with them notions?" +inquired Hiram, malevolently.</p> + +<p>"Remember that square-cornered female with a face harder'n the +physog of a wooden figurehead that was here last winter, and took +'em aloft and told 'em how to reef parli'ment'ry law, and all such?" +asked the Cap'n. "Well, she was the one."</p> + +<p>"You mind my word," cried Hiram, vibrating his cigar, "when a wife +begins to take orders from an old maid in frosted specs instead of +from her own husband, then the moths is gettin' ready to eat the +worsted out of the cardboard in the motto 'God bless our home!'"</p> + +<p>"Law is law," broke in the unabashed representative of it, "and if +the men-folks of this town ain't got the gumption to stand behind +an officer—"</p> + +<p>"Look here, Nute," gritted the Cap'n, "I'll stand behind you in about +two seconds, and I'll be standin' on one foot, at that! Don't you +go to castin' slurs on your betters. Because I've stood some talk +from you to-day isn't any sign that I'm goin' to stand any more."</p> + +<p>Now the first selectman had the old familiar glint in his eyes, and +Mr. Nute sat down meekly, returning no answer to the Cap'n's +sarcastic inquiry why he wasn't over at the tavern acting as convoy +for the Temperance Workers.</p> + +<p>Two minutes later some one came stamping along the corridor of the +town house. The office door was ajar, and this some one pushed it +open with his foot.</p> + +<p>It was Landlord Ferd Parrott. In one hand he carried an old glazed +valise, in the other a canvas extension-case, this reduplication of +baggage indicating a serious intention on the part of Mr. Parrott +to travel far and remain long. His visage was sullen and the set of +his jaws was ugly. Mr. Parrott had eyes that turned out from his nose, +and though the Cap'n and Hiram were on opposite sides of the room +it seemed as though his peculiar vision enabled him to fix an eye +on each at the same time.</p> + +<p>"I'm glad I found you here both together," he snarled. "I can tell +you both at one whack. I ain't got northin' against you. You've used +me like gents. I don't mean to dump you, nor northin' of the sort, +but there ain't anything I can seem to do. You take what there +is—this here is all that belongs to me." He shook the valises at +them. "I'm goin' to git out of this God-forsaken town—I'm goin' now, +and I'm goin' strong, and you're welcome to all I leave, just as I +leave it. For the first time in my life I'm glad I'm a widderer."</p> + +<p>After gazing at Mr. Parrott for a little time the Cap'n and Hiram +searched each the other's face with much interest. It was apparent +that perfect confidence did not exist between them on some matters +that were to the fore just then.</p> + +<p>"Yours," said Mr. Parrott, jerking a stiff nod to the Cap'n, "is a +morgidge on house and stable and land. Yours," he continued, with +another nod at Hiram, "is a bill o' sale of all the furniture, dishes, +liv'ry critters and stable outfit. Take it all and git what you can +out of it."</p> + +<p>"This ain't no way to do—skip out like this," objected Hiram.</p> + +<p>"Well, it's <i>my</i> way," replied Mr. Parrott, stubbornly, "and, seein' +that you've got security and all there is, I don't believe you can +stop me."</p> + +<p>Mr. Parrott dropped his valises and whacked his fists together.</p> + +<p>"If the citizens of this place don't want a hotel they needn't have +a hotel," he shrilled. "If they want to turn wimmen loose on me to +run me up a tree, by hossomy! I'll pull the tree up after me."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Ferd," said the Cap'n, eagerly, forgetting for the moment +the presence of Constable Nute, "those wimmen might gabble a little +at you and make threats and things like that—but—but—there isn't +anything they can do, you understand!" He winked at Mr. Parrott. "You +know what I told you!"</p> + +<p>But Mr. Parrott was in no way swayed or mollified.</p> + +<p>"They <i>can't'</i> do anything, can't they?" he squealed. "They've been +into my house and knocked in the head of a keg of Medford rum, and +busted three demijohns of whiskey, and got old Branscomb to sign the +pledge, and scared off the rest of the boys. Now they're goin' to +hire a pung, and a delegation of three is goin' to meet every train +with badges on and tell every arrivin' guest that the Smyrna tavern +is a nasty, wicked place, and old Aunt Juliet Gifford and her two +old-maid girls are goin' to put up all parties at half-price. They +<i>can't</i> do anything, hey! them wimmen can't? Well, that's what +they've done to date—and if the married men of this place can't keep +their wives to home and their noses out of my business, then Smyrna +can get along without a tavern. I'm done, I say. It's all yours." +Mr. Parrott tossed his open palms toward them in token of utter +surrender, and picked up his valises.</p> + +<p>"You can't shove that off onto us that way," roared Hiram.</p> + +<p>"Well, your money is there, and you can go take it or leave it," +retorted the desperate Mr. Parrott. "You'd better git your money +where you can git it, seein' that you can't very well git it out of +my hide." And the retiring landlord of Smyrna tavern stormed out and +plodded away down the mushy highway.</p> + +<p>Constable Nute gazed after him through the window, and then surveyed +the first selectman and Hiram with fresh and constantly increasing +interest. His tufty eyebrows crawled like caterpillars, indicating +that the thoughts under them must be of a decidedly stirring nature.</p> + +<p>"Huh! That's it, is it?" he muttered, and noting that Cap'n Sproul +seemed to be recovering his self-possession, he preferred not to wait +for the threats and extorted pledge that his natural craftiness +scented. He dove out.</p> + +<p>"Where be ye goin' to?" demanded Hiram, checking the savage rush of +the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Catch him and make him shet his chops about this, if I have to spike +his old jaws together."</p> + +<p>"It ain't no use," said Hiram, gloomily, setting his shoulders +against the door. "You'd only be makin' a show and spectacle in front +of the wimmen. And after that they'd squat the whole thing out of +him, the same as you'd squat stewed punkin through a sieve." He bored +the Cap'n with inquiring eye. "You wasn't tellin' me that you held +a morgidge on that tavern real estate." There was reproach in his +tones.</p> + +<p>"No, and you wasn't tellin' me that you had a bill of sale of the +fixin's and furniture," replied the Cap'n with acerbity. "How much +did you let him have?"</p> + +<p>"Fifteen hunderd," said Hiram, rather shamefacedly, but he perked +up a bit when he added: "There's three pretty fair hoss-kind."</p> + +<p>"If there's anything about that place that's spavined any worse'n +them hosses it's the bedsteads," snorted the other capitalist. "He's +beat you by five hundred dollars. If you should pile that furniture +in the yard and hang up a sign, 'Help yourself,' folks wouldn't haul +it off without pay for truckin'."</p> + +<p>"Le's see!" said Hiram, fingering his nose, "was it real money or +Confederate scrip that <i>you</i> let him have on <i>your</i> morgidge?"</p> + +<p>"Thutty-five hunderd ain't much on the most central piece of real +estate in this village," declared the Cap'n, in stout defence.</p> + +<p>"It's central, all right, but so is the stomach-ache," remarked Hiram, +calmly. "What good is that land when there ain't been a buildin' built +in this town for fifteen years, and no call for any? As for the house, +I'll bet ye a ten-cent cigar I can go over there and push it down—and +I ain't braggin' of my strength none, either."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n did not venture to defend his investment further. He stared +despondently through the window at the seamed roof and weather-worn +walls that looked particularly forlorn and dilapidated on that gray +March day.</p> + +<p>"I let him have money on it when the trees was leaved out, and things +look different then," he sighed.</p> + +<p>"And I must have let him have it when I was asleep and dreamin' that +Standard Ile had died and left his money to me," snorted the showman. +"I ain't blamin' you, Cap, and you needn't blame me, but the size +of it is you and me has gone into partnership and bought a tavern, +and didn't know it. If they had let Parrott alone he might have +wiggled out of the hole after a while."</p> + +<p>"It ain't wuth a hoorah in a hen-pen if it ain't run as a tavern," +stated the Cap'n. "I ain't in favor of rum nor sellin' rum, and I +knew that Ferd was sellin' a little suthin' on the sly, but he told +me he was goin' to repair up and git in some summer boarders, and +I was lettin' him work along. There ain't much business nor +look-ahead to wimmen, is there?" he asked, sourly.</p> + +<p>"Not when they bunch themselves in a flock and get to squawkin'," +agreed his friend.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what they are doin' over there now," averred the first +selectman, "but before they set fire to it or tear the daylights out, +and seein' as how it's our property accordin' to present outlook, +I reckon we'd better go over and put an eye on things. They prob'ly +think it belongs to Ferd."</p> + +<p>"Not since that bean-pole with a tin badge onto it got acrost there +with its mouth open," affirmed Hiram, with decision, "and if he ain't +told 'em that we bought Ferd out and set him up in the rum business, +he's lettin' us out easier than I figger on."</p> + +<p>The concerted glare of eyes that fairly assailed them when they +somewhat diffidently ventured into the office of the tavern +indicated that Hiram was not far off in his "figgerin'." The +embarrassed self-consciousness of Constable Nute, staring at the +stained ceiling, told much. The indignant eyes of the women told +more.</p> + +<p>Mr. Parrott's brother was a sea-captain who had sent him "stuffed" +natural-history curios from all parts of the world, and Mr. Parrott +had arranged a rather picturesque interior. Miss Philamese Nile, +president of the W.T.W.'s, stood beneath a dusty alligator that swung +from the ceiling, and Cap'n Sproul, glancing from one to the other, +confessed to himself that he didn't know which face looked the most +savage.</p> + +<p>She advanced on him, forefinger upraised.</p> + +<p>"Before you go to spreadin' sail, marm," said the Cap'n, stoutly, +"you'd better be sure that you ain't got holt of the down-haul instead +of the toppin'-lift."</p> + +<p>"Talk United States, Cap'n Sproul," snapped Miss Nile. "You've had +your money in this pit of perdition here, you and Hiram Look, the +two of you. As a town officer you've let Ferd Parrott fun a cheap, +nasty rum-hole, corruptin' and ruinin' the manhood of Smyrna, and +you've helped cover up this devilishness, though we, the wimmen of +this town, have begged and implored on bended knee. Now, that's plain, +straight Yankee language, and we want an answer in the same tongue."</p> + +<p>Neither the Cap'n nor Hiram found any consolation at that moment in +the countenances of their respective wives. Those faces were very +red, but their owners looked away resolutely and were plainly +animated by a stern sense of duty, bulwarked as they were by the +Workers.</p> + +<p>"We've risen for the honor of this town," continued Miss Nile.</p> + +<p>"Well, stay up, then!" snorted the short-tempered Hiram. "Though as +for me, I never could see anything very handsome in a hen tryin' to +fly."</p> + +<p>"Do you hear that?" shrilled Miss Nile. "Aren't you proud of your +noble husband, Mis' Look? Isn't he a credit to the home and an +ornament to his native land?"</p> + +<p>But Hiram, when indignant, was never abashed.</p> + +<p>"Wimmen," said he, "has their duties to perform and their place to +fill—all except old maids that make a specialty of 'tending to other +folks' business." He bent a withering look on Miss Nile. "Cap'n +Sproul and me ain't rummies, and you can't make it out so, not even +if you stand here and talk till you spit feathers. We've had business +dealin's with Parrott, and business is business."</p> + +<p>"And every grafter 'twixt here and kingdom come has had the same +excuse," declared the valiant head of the Workers. "Business or no +business, Ferd Parrott is done runnin' this tavern."</p> + +<p>"There's a point I reckon you and me can agree on," said Hiram, sadly. +He gazed out to where the tracks of Mr. Parrott led away through the +slush.</p> + +<p>"And it's the sense of the women of this place that such a dirty old +ranch sha'n't disgrace Smyrna any longer."</p> + +<p>"You mean—"</p> + +<p>"I mean shut up these doors—nail 'em—and let decent and respectable +women put up the folks who pass this way—put 'em up in a decent and +respectable place. That's the sense of the women."</p> + +<p>"And it's about as much sense as wimmen show when they get out of +their trodden path," cried Hiram, angrily. "You and the rest of ye +think, do ye, that me and Cap'n Sproul is goin' to make a present +of five thousand dollars to have this tavern stand here as a +Double-yer T. Double-yer monnyment? Well, as old Bassett said, +skursely, and not even as much as that!"</p> + +<p>"Then I'd like to see the man that can run it," declared the +spokeswoman with fine spirit. "We're going to back Mis' Gifford. +We're going to the train to get custom for her. We're going to warn +every one against this tavern. There isn't a girl or woman in twenty +towns around here who'll work in this hole after we've warned 'em +what it is. Yes, sir, I'd like to see the man that can run it!"</p> + +<p>"Well, you look at him!" shouted Hiram, slapping his breast. He noted +a look of alarm on the Cap'n's face, and muttered to him under his +breath: "You ain't goin' to let a pack of wimmen back ye down, be +ye?"</p> + +<p>"How be we goin' to work to run it?" whispered the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"That ain't the p'int now," growled Hiram. "The p'int is, we're goin' +to run it. And you've got to back me up."</p> + +<p>"Hiram!" called his wife, appealingly, but he had no ears for her.</p> + +<p>"You've made your threats," he stormed, addressing the leader of the +Workers. "You haven't talked to us as gents ought to be talked to. +You haven't made any allowances. You haven't shown any charity. +You've just got up and tried to jam us to the wall. Now, seein' that +your business is done here, and that this tavern is under new +management, you'll be excused to go over and start your own place."</p> + +<p>He opened the door and bowed, and the women, noting determination +in his eyes, began to murmur, to sniff spitefully, and to jostle +slowly out. Mrs. Look and Mrs. Sproul showed some signs of lingering, +but Hiram suggested dryly that they'd better stick with the band.</p> + +<p>"We'll be man and wife up home," he said, "and no twits and no hard +feelin's. But just now you are Double-yer T. Double-yers and we are +tavern-keepers—and we don't hitch." They went.</p> + +<p>"Now, Nute," barked Hiram, when the constable lingered as though +rather ashamed to depart with the women, "you get out of here and +you stay out, or I'll cook that stuffed alligator and a few others +of these tangdoodiaps here and ram 'em down them old jaws of yours." +Therefore, Constable Nute went, too.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XXVIII</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>Moved by mutual impulse, Hiram and the Cap'n plodded through the +deserted tavern, up-stairs and down-stairs. When they went into the +kitchen the two hired girls were dragging their trunks to the door, +and scornfully resisted all appeals to remain. They said it was a +nasty rum-hole, and that they had reputations to preserve just as +well as some folks who thought they were better because they had money. +Fine hand of the W.T.W.'s shown thus early in the game of +tavern-keeping! There were even dirty dishes in the sink, so +precipitate was the departure.</p> + +<p>In the stable, the hostler, a one-eyed servitor, with the piping +voice, wobbly gait, and shrunken features of the "white drunkard," +was in his usual sociable state of intoxication, and declared that +he would stick by them. He testified slobberingly as to his devotion +to Mr. Parrott, declared that when the women descended Mr. Parrott +confided to him the delicate task of "hiding the stuff," and that +he had managed to conceal quite a lot of it.</p> + +<p>"Well, dig it up and throw it away," directed Hiram.</p> + +<p>"Oh, only a fool in the business buries rum," confided the hostler. +"I've been in the rum business, and I know. They allus hunts haymows +and sullers. But I know how to hide it. I'm shrewd about them things."</p> + +<p>"We don't want no rum around here," declared the showman with +positiveness.</p> + +<p>The hostler winked his one eye at him, and, having had a rogue's long +experience in roguery, plainly showed that he believed a command of +this sort to be merely for the purpose of publication and not an +evidence of good faith.</p> + +<p>"And there won't be much rum left round here if we only let him alone," +muttered Hiram as he and the Cap'n walked back to the house. "I only +wisht them hired girls had as good an attraction for stayin' as he's +got."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Hiram," said the Cap'n, stopping him on the porch, "it's +all right to make loud talk to them Double-yer T. Double-yers, but +there ain't any sense in makin' it to each other. You and me can't +run this tavern no more'n hen-hawks can run a revival. Them wimmen—"</p> + +<p>"You goin' to let them wimmen cackle for the next two years, and pass +it down to their grandchildren how they done us out of all the money +we put in here—two able-bodied business men like we be? A watch ain't +no good only so long's it's runnin', and a tavern ain't, either. We've +got to run this till we can sell it, wimmen or no wimmen—and you +hadn't ought to be a quitter with thutty-five hunderd in it."</p> + +<p>But there was very little enthusiasm or determination in the Cap'n's +face. The sullenness deepened there when he saw a vehicle turn in +at the tavern yard. It was a red van on runners, and on its side was +inscribed:</p> + +<center><h4>T. BRACKETT,</h4> +<h4>TINWARE AND YANKEE NOTIONS.</h4></center> + +<p>He was that round-faced, jovial little man who was known far and wide +among the housewives of the section as "Balm o' Joy Brackett," on +account of a certain liniment that he compounded and dispensed as +a side-line. With the possible exception of one Marengo Todd, +horse-jockey and also far-removed cousin of Mrs. Sproul, there was +no one in her circle of cousins that the Cap'n hated any more +cordially than Todd Ward Brackett. Mr. Brackett, by cheerfully +hailing the Cap'n as "Cousin Aaron" at every opportunity, had +regularly added to the latter's vehemence of dislike.</p> + +<p>The little man nodded cheery greeting to the showman, cried his usual +"Hullo, Cousin Aaron!" to the surly skipper, bobbed off his van, and +proceeded to unharness.</p> + +<p>"Well," sighed Hiram, resignedly, "guest Number One for supper, +lodgin', and breakfast—nine shillin's and hossbait extry. 'Ev'ry +little helps,' as old Bragg said when he swallowed the hoss-fly."</p> + +<p>"There ain't any Todd Ward Brackett goin' to stop in <i>my</i> tavern," +announced the Cap'n with decision. Mr. Brackett overheard and +whirled to stare at them with mild amazement. "That's what I said," +insisted Cap'n Sproul, returning the stare. "Ferd Parrott ain't +runnin' this tavern any longer. We're runnin' it, and you nor none +of your stripe can stop here." He reflected with sudden comfort that +there was at least one advantage in owning a hotel. It gave a man +a chance at his foes.</p> + +<p>"You're <i>runnin'</i> it, be you?" inquired Mr. Brackett, raising his +voice and glancing toward Broadway's store platform where loafers +were listening.</p> + +<p>"That's what we be," shouted the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Well, I'm glad to hear that you're really <i>runnin'</i> it—and that +it ain't closed," said Mr. Brackett, "'cause I'm applyin' here to +a public house to be put up, and if you turn me away, havin' plenty +of room and your sign up, by ginger, I'll sue you under the statute +and law made and pervided. I ain't drunk nor disorderly, and I've +got money to pay—and I'll have the law on ye if ye don't let me in."</p> + +<p>Mention of the law always had terrifying effect on Cap'n Sproul. He +feared its menace and its intricacies. It was his nightmare that law +had long been lying in wait on shore for him, and that once the +land-sharks got him in their grip they would never let go until he +was sucked dry.</p> + +<p>"I've got witnesses who heard," declared Mr. Brackett, waggling +mittened hand at the group on the platform. "Now you look out for +yourself!"</p> + +<p>He finished unharnessing his horse and led the animal toward the barn, +carolling his everlasting lay about "Old Hip Huff, who went by +freight to Newry Corner, in this State."</p> + +<p>"There's just this much about it, Cap," Hiram hastened to say; "me +'n' you have got to run the shebang till we can unlo'd it. We can't +turn away custom and kill the thing dead. I'll 'tend the office, make +the beds, and keep the fires goin'. You—you—" He gazed at the Cap'n, +faltering in his speech and fingering his nose apprehensively.</p> + +<p>"Well, me what?" snapped the ex-master of the <i>Jefferson P. Benn</i>. +But his sparkling eyes showed that he realized what was coming.</p> + +<p>"You've allus been braggin'," gulped Hiram, "what a dabster you was +at cookin', havin' been to sea and—"</p> + +<p>"Me—<i>me?</i>" demanded the Cap'n, slugging his own breast ferociously. +"Me put on an ap'un, and go out there, and kitchen-wallop for that +jimbedoggified junacker of a tin-peddler? I'll burn this old shack +down first, I will, by the—"</p> + +<p>But Hiram entered fervent and expostulatory appeal.</p> + +<p>"If you don't, we're sendin' that talkin'-machine on legs off to sue +and get damages, and report this tavern from Clew to Hackenny, and +spoil our chances for a customer, and knock us out generally."</p> + +<p>He put his arm about the indignant Cap'n and drew him in where the +loafers couldn't listen, and continued his anxious coaxings until +at last Cap'n Sproul kicked and stamped his way into the kitchen, +cursing so horribly that the cat fled. He got a little initial +satisfaction by throwing after her the dirty dishes in the sink, +listening to their crashing with supreme satisfaction. Then he +proceeded to get supper.</p> + +<p>It had been a long time since he had indulged his natural taste for +cookery. In a half-hour he had forgotten his anger and was revelling +in the domain of pots and pans. He felt a sudden appetite of his own +for the good, old-fashioned plum-duff of shipboard days, and started +one going. Then gingercake—his own kind—came to his memory. He +stirred up some of that. He sent Hiram on a dozen errands to the +grocery, and Hiram ran delightedly.</p> + +<p>"I'll show you whether I can cook or not," was the Cap'n's proud boast +to the showman when the latter bustled eagerly in from one of his +trips. He held out a smoking doughnut on a fork. "There ain't one +woman in ten can fry 'em without 'em soakin' fat till they're as heavy +as a sinker."</p> + +<p>Hiram gobbled to the last mouthful, expressing his admiration as he +ate, and the Cap'n glowed under the praise.</p> + +<p>His especial moment of triumph came when his wife and Mrs. Look, +adventuring to seek their truant husbands, sat for a little while +in the tavern kitchen and ate a doughnut, and added their astonished +indorsement. In the flush of his masterfulness he would not permit +them to lay finger on dish, pot, or pan.</p> + +<p>Hiram served as waiter to the lonely guest in the dining-room, and +was the bearer of several messages of commendation that seemed to +anger the Cap'n as much as other praise gratified him.</p> + +<p>"Me standin' here cookin' for that sculpin!" he kept growling.</p> + +<p>However, he ladled out an especially generous portion of +plum-duff—the climax of his culinary art—and to his wrathful +astonishment Hiram brought it back untasted.</p> + +<p>"Mebbe it's all right," he said, apologetically, "but he was filled +full, and he said it was a new dish to him and didn't look very good, +and—"</p> + +<p>The Cap'n grabbed the disparaged plum-duff with an oath and started +for the dining-room.</p> + +<p>"Hold on!" Hiram expostulated; "you've got to remember that he's a +guest, Cap. He's—"</p> + +<p>"He's goin' to eat what I give him, after I've been to all the +trouble," roared the old skipper.</p> + +<p>Mr. Brackett was before the fire in the office, hiccuping with +repletion and stuffing tobacco into the bowl of his clay pipe.</p> + +<p>"Anything the matter with that duff?" demanded the irate cook, +pushing the dish under Mr. Brackett's retreating nose. "Think I don't +know how to make plum-duff—me that's sailed the sea for thutty-five +years?"</p> + +<p>"Never made no such remarks on your cookin'," declared the guest, +clearing his husky throat in which the food seemed to be sticking.</p> + +<p>"Hain't got no fault to find with that plum-duff?"</p> + +<p>"Not a mite," agreed Mr. Brackett, heartily.</p> + +<p>"Then you come back out here to the table and eat it. You ain't goin' +to slander none of my vittles that I've took as much trouble with +as I have with this."</p> + +<p>"But I'm full up—chock!" pleaded Mr. Brackett. "I wisht I'd have +saved room. I reckon it's good. But I ain't carin' for it."</p> + +<p>"You'll come out and eat that duff if I have to stuff it down your +thro't with the butt of your hoss-whip," said the Cap'n with an +iciness that was terrifying. He grabbed the little man by the collar +and dragged him toward the dining-room, balancing the dish in the +other hand.</p> + +<p>"I'll bust," wailed Mr. Brackett.</p> + +<p>"Well, that bump will make a little room," remarked Cap'n Sproul, +jouncing him down into a chair.</p> + +<p>He planted one broad hand on the table and the other on his hip, and +stood over the guest until the last crumb of the duff was gone, +although Mr. Brackett clucked hiccups like an overfed hen. The Cap'n +felt some of his choler evaporate, indulging in this sweet act of +tyranny.</p> + +<p>Resentment came slowly into the jovial nature of meek Todd Ward +Brackett. But as he pushed away from the table he found courage to +bend baleful gaze on his over-hospitable host.</p> + +<p>"I've put up at a good many taverns in my life," he said, "and I'm +allus willin' to eat my fair share of vittles, but I reckon I've got +the right to say how much!"</p> + +<p>"If you're done eatin'," snapped the Cap'n, "get along out, and don't +stay round in the way of the help." And Mr. Brackett retired, growling +over this astonishing new insult.</p> + +<p>He surveyed the suspended alligator gloomily, as he stuffed tobacco +into his pipe.</p> + +<p>"Better shet them jaws," he advised, "or now that he's crazy on the +plum-duff question he'll be jamming the rest of that stuff into you."</p> + +<p>"You can't say outside that the table ain't all right or that folks +go away hungry under the new management," remarked Hiram, +endeavoring to palliate.</p> + +<p>"New management goin' to inorg'rate the plum-duffin' idee as a +reg'lar system?" inquired Mr. Brackett, sullenly. "If it is, I'll +stay over to-morrow and see you operate on the new elder that's goin' +to supply the pulpit Sunday—pervidin' he stays here."</p> + +<p>Hiram blinked his eyes inquiringly. "New elder?" he repeated.</p> + +<p>"Get a few elders to put up here," suggested Mr. Brackett, venomously, +"and new management might take a little cuss off'm the reppytation +of this tavern." And the guest fell to smoking and muttering.</p> + +<p>Even as wisdom sometimes falls from the mouths of babes, so do good +ideas occasionally spring from careless sarcasm.</p> + +<p>After Mr. Brackett had retired Hiram discussed the matter of the +impending elder with Cap'n Sproul, the Cap'n not warming to the +proposition.</p> + +<p>"But I tell you if we can get that elder here," insisted Hiram, "and +explain it to him and get him to stay, he's goin' to look at it in +the right light, if he's got any Christian charity in him. We'll +entertain him free, do the right thing by him, tell him the case from +A to Z, and get him to handle them infernal wimmen. Only an elder +can do it. If we don't he may preach a sermon against us. That'll +kill our business proposition deader'n it is now. If he stays it will +give a tone to the new management, and he can straighten the thing +out for us."</p> + +<p>Not only did Cap'n Sproul fail to become enthusiastic, but he was +so distinctly discouraging that Hiram forbore to argue, feeling his +own optimistic resolution weaken under this depressing flow of cold +water.</p> + +<p>He did not broach the matter the next morning. He left the Cap'n +absorbed and busy in his domain of pots, set his jaws, took his own +horse and pung, and started betimes for the railroad-station two +miles away. On the way he overtook and passed, with fine contempt +for their podgy horse, a delegation from the W.T.W.'s.</p> + +<p>On the station platform they frowned upon him, and he scowled at them. +He realized that his only chance in this desperate venture lay in +getting at the elder first, and frisking him away before the women +had opportunity to open their mouths. A word from them might check +operations. And then, with the capture once made, if he could speed +his horse fast enough to allow him an uninterrupted quarter of an +hour at the tavern with the minister, he decided that only complete +<p>paralysis of the tongue could spoil his plan.</p> + +<p>Hiram, with his superior bulk and his desperate eagerness, had the +advantage of the women at the car-steps. He crowded close. It was +the white-lawn tie on the first passenger who descended that did the +business for Hiram. In his mind white-lawn ties and clergymen were +too intimately associated to admit of error. He yanked away the +little man's valise, grabbed his arm, and rushed him across the +platform and into the pung's rear seat. And the instant he had scooped +the reins from the dasher he flung himself into the front seat and +was away up the road, larruping his horse and ducking the snow-cakes +that hurtled from the animal's hoofs.</p> + +<p>"Look here! I—I—" gasped the little man, prodding him behind.</p> + +<p>"It's all right, elder!" bellowed Hiram. "You wait till we get there +and it will be made all right. Set clus' and hold on, that's all now!"</p> + +<p>"But, look here, I want to go to Smyrna tavern!"</p> + +<p>"Good for you!" Hiram cried. "Set clus' and you'll get there!" It +seemed, after all, that ill repute had not spread far. His spirits +rose, and he whipped on at even better speed.</p> + +<p>"If this isn't life or death," pleaded the little man, "you needn't +hurry so." Several "thank-you-marms" had nearly bounced him out.</p> + +<p>"Set clus'," advised the driver, and the little man endeavored to +obey the admonition, clinging in the middle of the broad seat.</p> + +<p>Hiram did not check speed even on the slope of the hill leading into +the village, though the little man again lifted voice of fear and +protest. So tempestuous was the rush of the pung that the loafers +in Broadway's store hustled out to watch. And they saw the runners +strike the slush-submerged plank-walk leading across the square, +beheld the end of the pung flip, saw the little man rise high above +the seat with a fur robe in his arms and alight with a yell of mortal +fright in the mushy highway, rolling over and over behind the +vehicle.</p> + +<p>Helping hands of those running from the store platform picked him +up, and brought his hat, and stroked the slush out of his eyes so +that he could see Hiram Look sweeping back to recover his passenger.</p> + +<p>"You devilish, infernal jayhawk of a lunatic!" squealed the little +man. "Didn't I warn you not to drive so fast?"</p> + +<p>Hiram's jaw dropped at the first blast of that irreligious outbreak. +But the white-lawn tie reassured him. There was no time for argument. +Before those loafers was no fit place. He grabbed up the little man, +poked him into the pung, held him in with one hand and with the other +drove furiously to the tavern porch. With equal celerity he hustled +him into the office.</p> + +<p>"You ain't in any condition to talk business jest now till you're +slicked off a little, elder," he began in tones of abject apology.</p> + +<p>"You bet your jeeroosly life I'm not!" cried the little man in a +perfect frenzy of fury.</p> + +<p>Again Hiram opened his mouth agitatedly, and his eyebrows wrinkled +in pained surprise. Yet once more his eyes sought the white tie and +his hand reached for the little man's arm, and, feeling at a loss +just then for language of explanation, he hurried him up-stairs and +into a room whose drawn curtains masked some of its untidiness.</p> + +<p>"You wash up, elder," he counselled. "I won't let anybody disturb +you, and then whatever needs to be explained will be all explained. +Don't you blame me till you know it all." And he backed out and shut +the door.</p> + +<p>He faced the Cap'n at the foot of the stairs. The Cap'n had been +watching intently the ascent of the two, and had gathered from the +little man's scuffles and his language that he was not a particularly +enthusiastic guest.</p> + +<p>"They come hard, but we must have 'em, hey?" he demanded, grimly. +"This is worse than shanghaiing for a Liverpool boardin'-house, and +I won't—"</p> + +<p>"S-s-s-sh!" hissed Hiram, flapping his hand. "That's the elder."</p> + +<p>"An elder? A man that uses that kind of language?"</p> + +<p>"He's had good reason for it," returned Hiram, fervently. "It's stout +talk, but I ain't blamin' him." He locked the outside door. "Them +Double-yer T. Double-yers will be flockin' this way in a few +minutes," he said, in explanation, "but they'll have to walk acrost +me in addition to the doormat to get him before I've had my say."</p> + +<p>But even while he was holding the unconvinced Cap'n by the arm and +eagerly going over his arguments, once more they heard the treading +of many feet in the office. There were the W.T.W.'s in force, and +they had with them a tall, gaunt man; and the presence of Mrs. Look +and Mrs. Sproul, flushed but determined, indicated that the citadel +had been betrayed from the rear.</p> + +<p>"I present to you Reverend T. Thayer, gents," said the president, +icily, "and seein' that he is field-secretary of the enforcement +league, and knows his duty when he sees it clear, he will talk to +you for your own good, and if it don't do you good, I warn you that +there will be something said from the pulpit to-morrow that will +bring down the guilty in high places."</p> + +<p>"The elder!" gasped Hiram, whirling to gaze aghast at the Cap'n. Then +he turned desperate eyes up at the ceiling, where creaking footsteps +sounded. "Who in the name o' Jezebel—" he muttered.</p> + +<p>Above there was a sort of spluttering bark of a human voice, and the +next moment there was a sound as of some one running about wildly. +Then down the stairs came the guest, clattering, slipping, and +falling the last few steps as he clung to the rail. His eyes were +shut tight, his face was dripping, and he was plaintively bleating +over and over: "I'm poisoned! I'm blind!"</p> + +<p>Hiram ran to him and picked him up from where he had fallen. His coat +and vest were off, and his suspenders trailed behind him. One sniff +at his frowsled hair told Hiram the story. The little man's topknot +was soppy with whiskey; his face was running with it; his eyes were +full of it. And the next moment the doubtful aroma had spread to the +nostrils of all. And the one-eyed hostler and liquor depository, +standing on the outskirts of the throng that he had solicitously +followed in, slapped palm against thigh and cried: "By Peter, that's +the gallon I poured in the water-pitcher and forgot where I left it!"</p> + +<p>"Didn't I tell you and command you and order you to throw away all +the liquor round this place, you one-eyed sandpipe?" demanded Hiram, +furiously.</p> + +<p>"There was a lot of hidin' done in a hurry when they come down on +Ferd," pleaded the hostler, "and I forgot where I hid that gallon!"</p> + +<p>The little man had his smarting eyes open. "Whiskey?" he mumbled, +dragging his hand over his hair and sniffing at his fingers.</p> + +<p>"You heard what that renegade owned up to," shouted Hiram, facing +the women. "I gave him his orders. I give him his orders now. You +jest appoint your delegation, wimmen! Don't you hold me to blame for +rum bein' here. You foller that man! And if he don't show you where +every drop is hid and give it into your hands to spill, I'll—I'll—" +He paused for a threat, cast his eyes about him, and tore down the +alligator from the ceiling, seized it by the stiff tail and poised +it like a cudgel. "I'll meller him within an inch of his life."</p> + +<p>"That sounds fair and reasonable, ladies," said the clergyman, +"though, of course, we don't want any violence."</p> + +<p>"I'm always fair and reasonable," protested Hiram, "when folks come +at me in a fair and reasonable way. You talk to them wimmen, elder, +about bein' fair and reasonable themselves, and then lead 'em back +here, and you'll find me ready to pull with 'em for the good of this +place, without tryin' to run cross-legged or turn a yoke or twist +the hames."</p> + +<p>When the reformers had departed on the heels of the cowed hostler, +Hiram surveyed with interest the little man who was left alone with +them.</p> + +<p>"I—I—reckon I've got a little business to talk over with you," +faltered the old showman, surveying him ruefully. The little man took +a parting sniff at his finger-tips.</p> + +<p>"You think, do you, that you've got over being driven up and that +now you can stop flying and perch a few minutes?" inquired the little +man with biting irony.</p> + +<p>"I'll 'tend to your case now jest as close as I can," returned Hiram, +meekly.</p> + +<p>"Well," proceeded the little man, after boring Hiram and then the +Cap'n for a time with steely eyes, "I happened to run across one +Ferdinand Parrott on the train, and he seemed to have what I've been +looking for, a property that I can convert into a sanitarium. My name +is Professor Diamond, and I am the inventor of the Telauto—"</p> + +<p>But Hiram's curiosity did not extend to the professor's science.</p> + +<p>"The idee is," he broke in, eagerly, "did Ferd Parrott say anything +about a morgidge and bill of sale bein' on this property, and be you +prepared to clear off encumbrances?"</p> + +<p>"I am," declared the professor promptly.</p> + +<p>"Then you take it," snapped Hiram, with comprehensive sweep of his +big hand. He kicked the alligator into the fireplace, took down his +overcoat and shrugged his shoulders into it. "Get your money counted +and come 'round to town office for your papers."</p> + +<p>While he was buttoning it the Reverend Thayer returned, leading the +ladies of the Women's Temperance Workers, Miss Philamese Nile at his +side. But Hiram checked her first words.</p> + +<p>"You talk to him after this," he said, with a chuck of his thumb over +his shoulder toward the professor. "Speakin' for Cap'n Aaron Sproul +and myself, I take the liberty to here state that we are now biddin' +farewell to the tavern business in one grand tableau to slow music, +lights turned low and the audience risin' and singin' 'Home, Sweet +Home'." He strode out by the front way, followed by Mrs. Look.</p> + +<p>"Had you just as soon come through the kitchen with me?" asked the +Cap'n in a whisper as he approached his wife. "I'm goin' to do up +what's left of that plum-duff and take it home. It kind o' hits my +tooth!"</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XXIX</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>Mr. Aholiah Luce, of the Purgatory Hollow section of Smyrna, stood +at bay on the dirt-banking of his "castle," that is, a sagged-in old +hulk of a house of which only the L was habitable.</p> + +<p>He was facing a delegation of his fellow-citizens, to wit: Cap'n +Aaron Sproul, first selectman of the town; Hiram Look, Zeburee Nute, +constable; and a nervous little man with a smudge of smut on the side +of his nose—identity and occupation revealed by the lettering on +the side of his wagon:</p> + +<center><h3>T. TAYLOR</h3> +<h4>STOVES AND TINWARE</h4> +<h4>VIENNA</h4></center> + +<p>Mr. Luce had his rubber boots set wide apart, and his tucked-in +trousers emphasized the bow in his legs. With those legs and his +elongated neck and round, knobby head, Mr. Luce closely resembled +one of a set of antique andirons.</p> + +<p>"You want to look out you don't squdge me too fur in this," said Mr. +Luce, warningly. "I've been squdged all my life, and I've 'bout come +to the limick. Now look out you don't squdge me too fur!"</p> + +<p>He side-stepped and stood athwart his door, the frame of which had +been recently narrowed by half, the new boarding showing glaringly +against the old. When one understood the situation, this new boarding +had a very significant appearance.</p> + +<p>Mr. Luce had gone over into Vienna, where his reputation for +shiftiness was not as well known, and had secured from Mr. T. Taylor, +recently set up in the stove business, a new range with all modern +attachments, promising to pay on the instalment plan. Stove once +installed, Mr. Luce had immediately begun to "improve" his mansion +by building a new door-frame too narrow to permit the exit of the +stove. Then Mr. Luce had neglected to pay, and, approached by +replevin papers, invoked the statute that provides that a man's house +cannot be ripped in pieces to secure goods purchased on credit.</p> + +<p>Constable Nute, unable to cope with the problem, had driven to Smyrna +village and summoned the first selectman, and the Cap'n had solicited +Hiram Look to transport him, never having conquered his sailor's fear +of a horse.</p> + +<p>"It ain't goin' to be twitted abroad in Vienny nor any other town +that we let you steal from outsiders in any such way as this," +declared the first selectman, once on the ground. "Folks has allus +cal'lated on your stealin' about so much here in town in the run of +a year, and haven't made no great fuss about it. But we ain't goin' +to harbor and protect any general Red Rover and have it slurred +against this town. Take down that scantlin' stuff and let this man +have his stove."</p> + +<p>"You can squdge me only so fur and no furder," asserted Luce, sullenly, +holding down his loose upper lip with his yellow teeth as though to +keep it from flapping in the wind. Within the mansion there was the +mellow rasp of a tin of biscuit on an oven floor, the slam of an oven +door, and Mrs. Luce appeared dusting flour from her hands. All who +knew Mrs. Luce knew that she was a persistent and insistent exponent +of the belief of the Millerites—"Go-uppers," they called the sect +in Smyrna.</p> + +<p>"I say you've got to open up and give this man his property," cried +Cap'n Sproul, advancing on them.</p> + +<p>"Property? Who talks of property?" demanded Mrs. Luce, her voice +hollow with the hollowness of the prophet. "No one knows the day and +the hour when we are to be swept up. It is near at hand. We shall +ride triumphant to the skies. And will any one think of property and +the vain things of this world then?"</p> + +<p>"Prob'ly not," agreed the Cap'n, sarcastically, "and there won't be +any need of a cook-stove in the place where your husband will fetch +up. He can do all his cookin' on a toastin'-fork over an open +fire—there'll be plenty of blaze."</p> + +<p>"Don't squdge me too fur," repeated Mr. Luce, clinging to the most +expressive warning he could muster just then.</p> + +<p>"It's full time for that critter to be fetched up with a round turn," +muttered Constable Nute, coming close to the elbow of the first +selectman, where the latter stood glowering on the culprit. "I reckon +you don't know as much about him as I do. When his mother was nussin' +him, a helpless babe, he'd take the pins out'n her hair, and they +didn't think it was anything but playin'. Once he stole the specs +off'm her head whilst she was nappin' with him in her arms, and jammed +'em down a hole in the back of the rockin'-chair. Whilst old Doc Burns +was vaccinatin' him—and he wa'n't more'n tew years old—he got Doc's +watch."</p> + +<p>"Those things would kind of give you a notion he'd steal, give him +a fair chance," commented Hiram, dryly.</p> + +<p>"He's stole ever since—everything from carpet tacks to a load of +hay," snapped the constable, "till folks don't stop to think he's +stealin'. He's got to be like rats and hossflies and other pests—you +cuss 'em, but you reckon they've come to stay."</p> + +<p>"I've abated some of the nuisances in this town," stated the Cap'n, +"and I cal'late I'm good for this one, now that it's been stuck under +my nose. Why haven't you arrested him in times past, same as you ought +to have done?"</p> + +<p>"Wasn't any one who would swear out complaints," said the constable. +"He's allus been threatenin' what kairosene and matches would do to +barns; and it wouldn't be no satisfaction to send 'Liah Luce to State +Prison—he ain't account enough. It wouldn't pay the loser for a +stand of buildin's—havin' him there."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul began to understand some of the sane business reasons +that guaranteed the immunity of Aholiah Luce, so long as he stuck +to petty thieving. But this international matter of the town of +Vienna seemed to the first selectman of Smyrna to be another sort +of proposition. And he surveyed the recalcitrant Mr. Luce with +malignant gaze.</p> + +<p>"I've never seen you backed down by nobody," vouchsafed the admiring +constable, anxious to shift his own responsibility and understanding +pretty well how to do it. "I've allus said that if there was any man +could run this town the way it ought to be run you was the man to +do it."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul was not the kind to disappoint the confident flattery +of those who looked up to him. He buttoned his pea-jacket, and set +his hat firmly on his head. Mr. Luce noted these signs of belligerency +and braced his firedog legs.</p> + +<p>"It's the meek that shall inherit, ye want to remember that!" croaked +Mrs. Luce. "And the crowned heads and the high and mighty—where will +they be then?"</p> + +<p>"They won't be found usin' a stolen cook-stove and quotin' +Scriptur'," snorted the Cap'n in disgust.</p> + +<p>"It ain't been stole," insisted Mr. Luce. "It was bought reg'lar, +and it can't be took away without mollywhackin' my house—and I've +got the law on my side that says you can't do it."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul was close to the banking.</p> + +<p>"Luce," he said, savagely, "I ain't out here to-day to discuss law +p'ints nor argy doctrines of religion. You've got a stove there that +belongs to some one else, and you either pay for it or give it up. +I'm willin' to be fair and reasonable, and I'll give you fifteen +seconds to pay or tear down that door framework."</p> + +<p>But neither alternative, nor the time allowed for acceptance, seemed +to please Mr. Luce. In sudden, weak anger at being thus cornered after +long immunity, he anathematized all authority as 'twas vested in the +first selectman of Smyrna. Several men passing in the highway held +up their horses and listened with interest.</p> + +<p>Emboldened by his audience, spurred to desperate measures, Mr. Luce +kicked out one of his rubber boots at the advancing Cap'n. The Cap'n +promptly grasped the extended leg and yanked. Mr. Luce came off his +perch and fell on his back in the mud, and Constable Nute straddled +him instantly and held him down. With an axe that he picked up at +the dooryard woodpile, Cap'n Aaron hammered out the new door-frame, +paying no heed to Mr. Luce's threats or Mrs. Luce's maledictions.</p> + +<p>"I don't know the law on it, nor I don't care," he muttered between +his teeth as he toiled. "All I know is, that stove belongs to T. Taylor, +of Vienny, and he's goin' to have it."</p> + +<p>And when the new boarding lay around him in splinters and the door +was wide once more, he led the way into the kitchen.</p> + +<p>"You undertake to throw that hot water on me, Mis' Luce," he declared, +noting what her fury was prompting, "and you'll go right up through +that roof, and it won't be no millennium that will boost you, either."</p> + +<p>The stove man and Hiram followed him in and the disinterested +onlookers came, too, curiosity impelling them. And as they were +Smyrna farmers who had suffered various and aggravating depredations +by this same Aholiah Luce, they were willing to lend a hand even to +lug out a hot stove. The refulgent monarch of the kitchen departed, +with the tin of biscuit still browning in its interior, passed close +to the cursing Mr. Luce, lying on his back under Nute's boring knee, +and then with a lusty "Hop-ho! All together!" went into T. Taylor's +wagon.</p> + +<p>Mr. Luce, freed now as one innocuous, leaped up and down in a perfect +ecstasy of fury. "You've squdged me too fur. You've done it at last!" +he screamed, with hysteric iteration. "You've made me a desp'rit' +outlaw."</p> + +<p>"Outlaw! You're only a cheap sneak-thief!"</p> + +<p>"That's right, Cap'n Sproul," remarked the constable. "He can't even +steal hens till it's dark and they can't look at him. If they turned +and put their eye on him he wouldn't dare to touch 'em."</p> + +<p>"I don't dast to be an outlaw, hey?" shrieked Mr. Luce. The vast +injury that had been done him, this ruthless assault on his house, +his humiliation in public, and now these wanton taunts, whipped his +weak nature into frenzy. Cowards at bay are the savagest foes. Mr. +Luce ran amuck!</p> + +<p>Spurring his resolution by howling over and over: "I don't dast to +be an outlaw, hey? I'll show ye!" he hastened with a queer sort of +stiff-legged gallop into the field, tore away some boarding, and +descended into what was evidently a hiding-place, a dry well. A +moment, and up he popped, boosting a burden. He slung it over his +shoulder and started toward them, staggering under its weight. It +was a huge sack, with something in it that sagged heavily.</p> + +<p>"Nice sort of an outlaw he'll make—that woodchuck!" observed +Constable Nute with a cackle of mirth.</p> + +<p>The first selectman and his supporters surveyed the approach of the +furious Mr. Luce with great complacency. If Mr. Luce had emerged with +a shot-gun in his fist and a knife in his teeth he might have presented +some semblance of an outlaw. But this bow-legged man with a sack +certainly did not seem savage. Hiram offered the humorous suggestion +that perhaps Mr. Luce proposed to restore property, and thereby +causing people to fall dead with astonishment would get his revenge +on society.</p> + +<p>"I warned ye and you wouldn't listen," screamed the self-declared +pariah. "I said there was such a thing as squdgin' me too fur. Ye +didn't believe it. Now mebbe ye'll believe that!"</p> + +<p>He had halted at a little distance from them, and had set down his +sack. He dove into it and held up a cylinder, something more than +half a foot long, a brown, unassuming cylinder that certainly didn't +have anything about its looks to call out all the excitement that +was convulsing Mr. Luce.</p> + +<p>"Pee-ruse that!" squealed he. "<i>There's</i> a lead-pencil that will +write some news for ye." He shook the cylinder at them. "And there's +plenty more of 'em in this bag." He curled his long lip back. +"Daminite!" he spat. "I'll show ye whuther I'm an outlaw or not."</p> + +<p>"And I know where you stole it," bawled one of the bystanders +indignantly. "You stole all me and my brother bought and had stored +for a season's blastin'. Constable Nute, I call on you to arrest him +and give me back my property."</p> + +<p>"Arrest me, hey?" repeated Mr. Luce. In one hand he shook aloft the +stick of dynamite, with its dangling fuse that grimly suggested the +detonating cap at its root. In the other hand he clutched a bunch +of matches. "You start in to arrest me and you'll arrest two miles +straight up above here, travellin' a hundred miles a minit."</p> + +<p>"There ain't any grit in him, Nute," mumbled Cap'n Sproul. "Jest give +a whoop and dash on him."</p> + +<p>"That sounds glib and easy," demurred the prudent officer, "but if +that man hasn't gone clean loony then I'm no jedge. I don't reckon +I'm goin' to charge any batteries."</p> + +<p>"You'll do what I tell you to! You're an officer, and under orders."</p> + +<p>"You told me once to take up Hiram Look's el'funt and put her in the +pound," remonstrated the constable. "But I didn't do it, and I wasn't +holden to do it. And I ain't holden to run up and git blowed to +everlastin' hackmetack with a bag of dynamite."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Nute," cried the Cap'n, thoroughly indignant and +shifting the contention to his officer—entirely willing to ignore +Mr. Luce's threats and provocations—"I haven't called on you in a +tight place ever in my life but what you've sneaked out. You ain't +fit for even a hog-reeve. I'm going to cancel your constable +appointment, that's what I'll do when I get to town hall."</p> + +<p>"I'll do it right now," declared the offended Mr. Nute, unpinning +his badge. "Any time you've ordered me to do something sensible I've +done it. But el'funts and lunatics and dynamite and some of the other +jobs you've unlo'ded onto me ain't sensible, and I won't stand for +'em. You can't take me in the face and eyes of the people and rake +me over." He had noted that the group in the highway had considerably +increased. "I've resigned."</p> + +<p>Mr. Luce was also more or less influenced and emboldened and pricked +on by being the centre of eyes. As long as he seemed to be expected +to give a show, he proposed to make it a good one. His flaming eyes +fell on T. Taylor, busy over the stove, getting it ready for its +journey back to Vienna. Mr. Taylor, happy in the recovery of his +property, was paying little attention to outlaws or official +disputes. He had cleaned out the coals and ashes, and having just +now discovered the tin of biscuit, tossed it away. This last seemed +too much for Mr. Luce's self-control.</p> + +<p>"I don't dast to be an outlaw, hey?" he cried, hoarsely. "That stove +is too good for me, is it? My wife's biskits throwed into the mud +and mire!"</p> + +<p>He lighted the fuse of the dynamite, ran to the team and popped the +explosive into the stove oven and slammed the door. Then he flew to +his sack, hoisted it to his shoulder and staggered back toward the +dry well.</p> + +<p>At this critical juncture there did not arise one of those rare +spirits to perform an act of noble self-sacrifice. There have been +those who have tossed spluttering bombs into the sea; who have +trodden out hissing fuses. But just then no one seemed to care for +the exclusive and personal custody of that stick of dynamite.</p> + +<p>All those in teams whipped up, yelling like madmen, and those on foot +grabbed on behind and clambered over tailboards. Cap'n Sproul, +feeling safer on his own legs than in Hiram's team, pounded away down +the road with the speed of a frantic Percheron. And in all this panic +T. Taylor, only dimly realizing that there was something in his stove +that was going to cause serious trouble, obeyed the exhortations +screamed at him, cut away his horse, straddled the beast's back and +fled with the rest.</p> + +<p>The last one in sight was Mrs. Luce, who had shown serious intentions +of remaining on the spot as though she feared to miss anything that +bore the least resemblance to the coming of the last great day. But +she suddenly obeyed her husband, who was yelling at her over the edge +of the hole, and ran and fell in by his side.</p> + +<p>Missiles that screamed overhead signalized to the scattered +fugitives the utter disintegration of T. Taylor's stove. The hearth +mowed off a crumbly chimney on the Luce house, and flying fragments +crushed out sash in the windows of the abandoned main part. Cap'n +Sproul was the first one to reappear, coming from behind a distant +tree. There was a hole in the ground where T. Taylor's wagon had +stood.</p> + +<p>"Daminite!" screamed a voice. Mr. Luce was dancing up and down on +the edge of his hole, shaking another stick of the explosive. "I'll +show ye whuther I'm an outlaw or not! I'll have this town down on +its knees. I'll show ye what it means to squdge me too fur. I give +ye fair warnin' from now on. I'm a desp'rit' man. They'll write novels +about me before I'm done. Try to arrest me, will ye? I'll take the +whole possy sky-hootin' with me when ye come." He was drunk with power +suddenly revealed to him.</p> + +<p>He lifted the sack out of the hole and, paying no heed to some apparent +expostulations of Mrs. Luce, he staggered away up the hillside into +the beech growth, bowed under his burden. And after standing and +gazing for some time at the place where he disappeared, the first +selectman trudged down the road to where Hiram was waiting for him, +soothing his trembling horse.</p> + +<p>"Well," said the old showman, with a vigorous exhalation of breath +to mark relief, "get in here and let's go home. Accordin' to my notion, +replevinin' and outlawin' ain't neither sensible or fashionable or +healthy. Somethin' that looked like a stove-cover and sounded like +a howlaferinus only just missed me by about two feet. That critter's +dangerous to be let run loose. What are you goin' to do about him?"</p> + +<p>"Ketch him," announced the Cap'n, sturdily.</p> + +<p>"Well," philosophized Hiram, "smallpox is bad when it's runnin' +round loose, but it's a blastnation sight worse when it's been +ketched. You're the head of the town and I ain't, and I ain't +presumin' to advise, but I'd think twice before I went to runnin' +that bag o' dynamite into close corners. Luce ain't no account, and +no more is an old hoss-pistol, but when a hoss-pistol busts it's a +dangerous thing to be close to. You let him alone and mebbe he'll +quiet down."</p> + +<p>But that prophecy did not take into account the state of mind of the +new outlaw of Smyrna.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XXX</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>At about midnight Cap'n Sproul, snoring peaceably with wide-open +mouth, snapped upright in bed with a jerk that set his teeth into +his tongue and nearly dislocated his neck. He didn't know exactly +what had happened. He had a dizzy, dreaming feeling that he had been +lifted up a few hundred feet in the air and dropped back.</p> + +<p>"Land o' Goshen, Aaron, what was it?" gasped his wife. "It sounded +like something blowing up!"</p> + +<p>The hint steadied the Cap'n's wits. 'Twas an explosion—that was it! +And with grim suspicion as to its cause, he pulled on his trousers +and set forth to investigate. An old barn on his premises, a +storehouse for an overplus of hay and discarded farming tools, had +been blown to smithereens and lay scattered about under the stars. +And as he picked his way around the ruins with a lantern, cursing +the name of Luce, a far voice hailed him from the gloom of a belt +of woodland: "I ain't an outlaw, hey? I don't dast to be one, hey? +You wait and see."</p> + +<p>About an hour later, just as the selectman was sinking into a doze, +he heard another explosion, this time far in the distance—less a +sound than a jar, as of something striking a mighty blow on the earth.</p> + +<p>"More dynamite!" he muttered, recognizing that explosive's +down-whacking characteristic. And in the morning Hiram Look hurried +across to inform him that some miscreant had blown up an empty +corn-house on his premises, and that the explosion had shattered all +the windows in the main barn and nearly scared Imogene, the elephant, +into conniptions. "And he came and hollered into my bedroom window +that he'd show me whuther he could be an outlaw or not," concluded +the old showman. "I tell you that critter is dangerous, and you've +got to get him. Instead of quietin' down he'll be growin' worse."</p> + +<p>There were eleven men in Smyrna, besides Zeburee Nute, who held +commissions as constables, and those valiant officers Cap'n Sproul +called into the first selectman's office that forenoon. He could not +tell them any news. The whole of Smyrna was ringing with the +intelligence that Aholiah Luce had turned outlaw and was on the +rampage.</p> + +<p>The constables, however, could give Selectman Sproul some news. They +gave it to him after he had ordered them to surround Mr. Luce and +take him, dynamite and all. This news was to the effect that they +had resigned.</p> + +<p>"We've talked it over," averred Lycurgus Snell, acting as spokesman, +"and we can't figger any good and reeliable way of gittin' him without +him gittin' us, if he's so minded, all in one tableau, same to be +observed with smoked glasses like an eclipse. No, s'r, we ain't in +any way disposed to taller the heavens nor furnish mince-meat +funerals. And if we don't git him, and he knows we're takin' action +agin' him, he'll come round and blow our barns up—and we ain't so +well able to stand the loss as you and Mr. Look be."</p> + +<p>"Well, if you ain't about the nearest to knot-holes with the rims +gone off'm 'em of anything I ever see," declared the Cap'n, with fury, +"may I be used for oakum to calk a guano gunlow!"</p> + +<p>"If you think it's a job to set any man to, you'd better go and do +it yourself," retorted Snell, bridling. "You know as well as I do, +s'leckman, that so long as 'Liah has been let alone he's only been +a plain thief, and we've got along with him here in town all +right—onpleasant and somewhat expensive, like potater-bugs. But +you seem to have gone to pushin' him and have turned him from +potater-bug into a royal Peeruvian tiger, or words to that effect, +and I don't see any way but what you'll have to tame him yourself. +There's feelin' in town that way, and people are scart, and citizens +ain't at all pleased with your pokin' him up, when all was quiet."</p> + +<p>"Citizens ruther have it said, hey, that we are supportin' a +land-pirut here in this town, and let him disgrace us even over in +Vienny?" demanded the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Which was wuss?" inquired Mr. Snell, serenely. "As it was or as it +is?"</p> + +<p>Then the ex-constables, driven forth with contumely, went across to +the platform of Broadway's store, and discussed the situation with +other citizens, finding the opinion quite unanimous that Cap'n +Sproul possessed too short a temper to handle delicate matters with +diplomacy. And it was agreed that Aholiah Luce, weak of wit and +morally pernicious, was a delicate matter, when all sides were taken +into account.</p> + +<p>To them appeared Aholiah Luce, striding down the middle of the street, +with that ominous sack on his shoulder.</p> + +<p>"Be I an outlaw, or ain't I?" he shouted over and over, raising a +clamor in the quiet village that brought the Cap'n out of the town +house. "Arrest me, will ye? When ye try it there won't be nothin' +left of this town but a hole and some hollerin'."</p> + +<p>He walked right upon the store platform and into the store, and every +one fled before him. Broadway cowered behind his counter.</p> + +<p>"Put me up a fig o' tobacker, a pound of tea, quart o' merlasses, +ten pounds of crackers, hunk o' pork, and two cans of them salmons," +he ordered.</p> + +<p>In past years Mr. Luce had always slunk into Broadway's store +apologetically, a store-bill everlastingly unpaid oppressing his +spirits. Now he bellowed autocratic command, and his soul swelled +when he saw Broadway timorously hastening to obey.</p> + +<p>"I'll show 'em whuther I'm an outlaw or not," he muttered. "And I +wisht I'd been one before, if it works like this. The monarch of the +Injies couldn't git more attention," he reflected, as he saw the +usually contemptuous Broadway hustling about, wrapping up the goods.</p> + +<p>He saw scared faces peering in at him through the windows. He swung +the sack off his shoulder, and bumped it on the floor with a flourish.</p> + +<p>"My Lord-amighty, be careful with that!" squawked Broadway, ducking +down behind the counter.</p> + +<p>"You 'tend to business and make less talk, and you won't git hurt," +observed Mr. Luce, ferociously. He pointed at the storekeeper the +stick of dynamite that he carried in his hand. And Mr. Broadway hopped +up and bestirred himself obsequiously.</p> + +<p>"I don't know whuther I'll ever pay for these or not," announced Mr. +Luce, grabbing the bundles that Broadway poked across the counter +as gingerly as he would feed meat to a tiger. He stuffed them into +his sack. "I shall do jest as I want to about it. And when I've et +up this grub in my lair, where I propose to outlaw it for a while, +I shall come back for some more; and if I don't git it, along with +polite treatment, I'll make it rain groc'ries in this section for +twenty-four hours."</p> + +<p>"I didn't uphold them that smashed in your door," protested the +storekeeper, getting behind the coffee-grinder.</p> + +<p>"I've been squdged too fur, that's what has been done," declared Mr. +Luce, "and it was your seleckman that done it, and I hold the whole +town responsible. I don't know what I'm li'ble to do next. I've showed +<i>him</i>—now I'm li'ble to show the town. I dunno! It depends."</p> + +<p>He went out and stood on the store platform, and gazed about him with +the air of Alexander on the banks of the Euphrates. For the first +time in his lowly life Mr. Luce saw mankind shrink from before him. +It was the same as deference would have seemed to a man who had earned +respect, and the little mind of Smyrna's outlaw whirled dizzily in +his filbert skull.</p> + +<p>"I don't know what I'll do yit," he shouted, hailing certain faces +that he saw peering at him. "It was your seleckman that done it—and +a seleckman acts for a town. I reckon I shall do some more blowin' +up."</p> + +<p>He calmly walked away up the street, passing Cap'n Sproul, who stood +at one side.</p> + +<p>"I don't dast to be an outlaw, hey?" jeered Mr. Luce.</p> + +<p>"You don't dare to set down that sack," roared the selectman. "I'll +pay ye five hundred dollars to set down that sack and step out there +into the middle of that square—and I call on all here as witnesses +to that offer," he cried, noting that citizens were beginning to +creep back into sight once more. "Five hundred dollars for you, you +bow-legged hen-thief! You sculpin-mouthed hyena, blowing up men's +property!"</p> + +<p>"Hold on," counselled Mr. Luce. "You're goin' to squdgin' me ag'in. +I've been sassed enough in this town. I'm goin' to be treated with +respect after this if I have to blow up ev'ry buildin' in it."</p> + +<p>"It ain't safe to go to pokin' him up," advised Mr. Nute from afar. +"I should think you'd 'a' found that out by this time, Cap'n Sproul."</p> + +<p>"I've found out that what ain't cowards here are thieves,'" roared +the Cap'n, beside himself, ashamed, enraged at his impotence before +this boastful fool and his grim bulwark. His impulse was to cast +caution to the winds and rush upon Luce. But reflection told him that, +in this flush of his childish resentment and new prominence, Luce +was capable of anything. Therefore he prudently held to the side of +the road.</p> + +<p>"The next time I come into this village," said Mr. Luce, "I don't +propose to be called names in public by any old salt hake that has +pounded his dollars out of unfort'nit' sailors with belayin'-pins. +I know your record, and I ain't afeard of you!"</p> + +<p>"There'll be worse things happen to you than to be called names."</p> + +<p>"Oh, there will, hey?" inquired Mr. Luce, his weak passion flaming. +"Well, lemme give you jest one hint that it ain't safe to squdge me +too fur!"</p> + +<p>He walked back a little way, lighted the fuse of the stick of dynamite +that he carried, and in spite of horrified appeals to him, cast over +the shoulders of fleeing citizens, he tossed the wicked explosive +into the middle of the square and ran.</p> + +<p>In the words of Mr. Snell, when he came out from behind the +watering-trough: "It was a corn-cracker!"</p> + +<p>A half-hour later Mr. Nute, after sadly completing a canvass of the +situation, headed a delegation that visited Cap'n Sproul in the +selectman's office, where he sat, pallid with rage, and cursing.</p> + +<p>"A hundred and seventeen lights of glass," announced Mr. Nute, +"includin' the front stained-glass winder in the meetin'-house and +the big light in Broadway's store. And it all happened because the +critter was poked up agin'—and I warned ye not to do it, Cap'n."</p> + +<p>"Would it be satisfactory to the citizens if I pulled my wallet and +settled the damage?" inquired the first selectman, with baleful +blandness in his tones.</p> + +<p>Mr. Nute did not possess a delicate sense of humor or of satire. He +thoughtfully rubbed his nose.</p> + +<p>"Reely," he said, "when you git it reduced right down, that critter +ain't responsible any more'n one of them dynamite sticks is +responsible, and if it hadn't been for you lettin' him loose and then +pokin' him, contrary to warnin', them hundred and seventeen lights +of glass wouldn't—"</p> + +<p>"Are there any left?" asked Cap'n Sproul, still in subdued tones.</p> + +<p>"About as many more, I should jedge," replied Mr. Nute.</p> + +<p>"Well, I simply want to say," remarked the Cap'n, standing up and +clinching his fists, "that if you ever mention responsibility to me +again, Nute, I'll take you by the heels and smash in the rest of that +glass with you—and I'll do the same with any one else who don't know +enough to keep his yawp shut. Get out of here, the whole of you, or +I'll begin on what glass is left in this town house."</p> + +<p>They departed silently, awed by the menace of his countenance, but +all the more bitterly fixed in their resentment.</p> + +<p>That night two more hollow "chunks" shook the ground of Smyrna, at +intervals an hour separated, and morning light showed that two +isolated barns had been destroyed.</p> + +<p>Mr. Luce appeared in the village with his sack, quite at his ease, +and demanded of Broadway certain canned delicacies, his appetite +seeming to have a finer edge to correspond with his rising courage. +He even hinted that Broadway's stock was not very complete, and that +some early strawberries might soften a few of the asperities of his +nature.</p> + +<p>"I ain't never had a fair show on eatin'," he complained to the +apprehensive storekeeper. "It's been ten years that my wife ain't +got me a fair and square meal o' vittles. She don't believe in cookin' +nothin' ahead nor gettin' up anything decent. She's a Go-upper and +thinks the end of the world is li'ble to come any minit. And the way +I figger it, not havin' vittles reg'lar has give me dyspepsy, and +dyspepsy has made me cranky, and not safe to be squdged too fur. And +that's the whole trouble. I've got a hankerin' for strorb'ries. They +may make me more supple. P'raps not, but it's wuth tryin'."</p> + +<p>He tossed the cans into his sack in a perfectly reckless manner, until +Broadway was sick and hiccuping with fear. "Love o' Lordy," he +pleaded, "don't act that way. It's apt to go off—go off any time. +I know the stuff better'n you do—I've dealt in it. Ain't I usin' +you square on goods?"</p> + +<p>"Mebbe so," admitted Mr. Luce. "Fur's you know, you are. But the +trouble with me is my disposition. It ain't been made supple yet. +If you've got in stock what my appetite craves I may be more supple +next time I come."</p> + +<p>He dug a tender strip out of the centre of a hanging codfish, and +walked out. Parading his ease of spirits and contempt for humanity +in general, he stood on the platform and gnawed at the fish and gazed +serenely on the broken windows.</p> + +<p>"I done it," he mumbled, admiringly. "I showed 'em! It won't take +much more showin', and then they'll let me alone, and I'll live happy +ever after. Wonder is I hadn't reelized it before. Tail up, and +everybody stands to one side. Tail down, and everybody is tryin' to +kick you. If it wa'n't for that streak in human nature them devilish +trusts that I've heard tell of couldn't live a minit." He saw men +standing afar and staring at him apprehensively. "That's right, ding +baste ye," he said, musingly, "look up to me and keep your distance! +It don't make no gre't diff'runce how it's done, so long as I can +do it."</p> + +<p>And after further triumphant survey of the situation, he went away.</p> + +<p>"Hiram," said Cap'n Sproul, with decision, turning from a long survey +of Mr. Luce's retreating back through a broken window of the town +house, "this thing has gone jest as far as it's goin'."</p> + +<p>"Well," declared the showman with some bitterness, "to have them +that's in authority stand round here and let one bow-legged lunatic +blow up this whole town piecemeal ain't in any ways satisfyin' to +the voters. I hear the talk, and I'm givin' it to you straight as +a friend."</p> + +<p>"I've got my plan all made," said the first selectman. "I want you +as foreman to call out the Ancient and Honer'ble Firemen's +Association and have 'em surround them woods, and we'll take him."</p> + +<p>"We will, hey?" demanded Hiram, pushing back his plug hat and +squinting angrily. "What do you think that firemen's association is +for, anyway?"</p> + +<p>"Never knew it to do anything but eat free picnics and give social +dances," retorted the Cap'n. "I didn't know but it was willin' to +be useful for once in its life."</p> + +<p>"Slur noted!" said Hiram, with acerbity. "But you can't expect us +to pull you out of a hole that you've mismanaged yourself into. You +needn't flare, now, Cap'n. It's been mismanaged, and that's the +sentiment of the town. I ain't twittin' you because I've lost +property. I'm talkin' as a friend."</p> + +<p>"That's twice this mornin' you've passed me that 'friend' handbill," +raged the selectman. "Advertisin' yourself, be ye? And then leavin' +me in the lurch! This is a friendly town, that's what it is. +Constables, voters, firemen, and you yourself dump the whole burden +of this onto me, and then stand back and growl at me! Well, if this +thing is up to me alone and friendless and single-handed, I know what +I'm goin' to do!" His tone had the grate of file against steel.</p> + +<p>"What?" inquired his friend with interest.</p> + +<p>"Get a gun and go out and drop that humpbacked old Injy-cracker!"</p> + +<p>But Hiram protested fervently.</p> + +<p>"Where would you shoot him?" he cried. "You don't know where to find +him in them woods. You'd have to nail him here in the village, and +besides its bein' murder right in the face and eyes of folks, you'd +put a bullet into that sack o' dynamite and blow ev'ry store, +meetin'-house, and school-house in Smyrna off'm the map. You give +that up, or I'll pass the word and have you arrested, yourself, as +a dangerous critter."</p> + +<p>He went away, still protesting as long as he was in hearing.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul sat despondent in his chair, and gazed through the +broken window at other broken windows. Ex-Constable Nute presented +himself at the pane outside and said, nervously chewing tobacco: "I +reckon it's the only thing that can be done now, Cap'n. It seems to +be the general sentiment."</p> + +<p>With a flicker of hope irradiating his features, Cap'n Sproul +inquired for details.</p> + +<p>"It's to write to the President and get him to send down a hunk of +the United States Army. You've got to fight fire with fire."</p> + +<p>Without particular display of passion, with the numb stolidity of +one whose inner fires have burned out, the selectman got up and threw +a cuspidor through the window at his counsellor, and then seated +himself to his pondering once more.</p> + +<p>That afternoon Mrs. Aholiah Luce came walking into the village, spent, +forlorn, and draggled. She went straight to the town office, and +seated herself in front of the musing first selectman.</p> + +<p>"I've come to call on for town help," she said. "I haven't got scrap +nor skred to eat, and northin' to cook it with. You've gone to work +and put us in a pretty mess, Mister S'leckman. Makin' my husband an +outlaw that's took to the woods, and me left on the chips!"</p> + +<p>The Cap'n surveyed her without speaking—apparently too crushed to +make any talk. In addition to other plagues, it was now plain that +he had brought a pauper upon the town of Smyrna.</p> + +<p>"So I call on," she repeated, "and I need a whole new stock of +groc'ries, and something to cook 'em with."</p> + +<p>And still the Cap'n did not speak. He sat considering her, his brows +knitted.</p> + +<p>"I'm a proud woman nat'rally," she went on, "and it's tough to have +to call on 'cause the crowned heads of earth has oppressed the meek +and the lowly."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul trudged across the room, and took down a big book +inscribed "Revised Statutes." He found a place in the volume and +began to read in an undertone, occasionally looking over his specs +at her.</p> + +<p>"It's as I thought it was," he muttered; "when one member of a family, +wife or minor children, call on for town aid, whole family can be +declared paupers till such time as, and so forth." He banged the big +book shut. "Interestin' if true—and found to be true. Law to use +as needed. So you call on, do you, marm?" he queried, raising his +voice. "Well, if you're all ready to start for the poor-farm, come +along."</p> + +<p>"I ain't goin' onto no poor-farm," she squealed. "I call on, but I +want supplies furnished."</p> + +<p>"Overseer of the poor has the say as to what shall be done with +paupers," announced the Cap'n. "I say poor-farm. They need a good, +able-bodied pauper woman there, like you seem to be. The other wimmen +paupers are bedridden."</p> + +<p>"My husband will never let me be took to the poorhouse and kept +there."</p> + +<p>"Oh, there ain't goin' to be any trouble from that side. You're right +in line to be a widder most any time now."</p> + +<p>"Be you goin' to kill 'Liah?" she wailed.</p> + +<p>"It will be a self-actin' proposition, marm. I ain't got any very +special grudge against him, seein' that he's a poor, unfortunate +critter. I'm sorry, but so it is." He went on with great appearance +of candor. "You see, he don't understand the nature of that stuff +he's luggin' round. It goes off itself when it gets about so warm. +It's comin' warmin' weather now—sun gettin' high—and mebbe next +time he starts for the village the bust will come."</p> + +<p>"Ain't any one goin' to warn him?"</p> + +<p>"I can't find it's set down in my duties, marm; and from the acts +of the gen'ral run of cowards in this town I don't reckon any one +else will feel called on to get near enough to him to tell him. Oh +no! He'll fire himself like an automatic bomb. Prob'ly to-morrow. +By the looks of the sky it's goin' to be a nice, warm day."</p> + +<p>She backed to the door, her eyes goggling.</p> + +<p>"I ain't got any hard feelin's at all, marm. I pity you, and here's +a ten-dollar bill that I'll advance from the town. I reckon I'll wait +till after you're a widder before I take you to the poorhouse."</p> + +<p>She clutched the bill and ran out. He watched her scurry down the +street with satisfaction wrinkling under his beard. "It was a kind +of happy idee and it seems to be workin'," he observed. "I've allus +thought I knew enough about cowards to write a book on 'em. We'll +see!"</p> + +<p>That night there were no alarms in Smyrna. Cap'n Sproul, walking to +his office the next forenoon, mentally scored one on the right side +of his calculations.</p> + +<p>When he heard Mr. Luce in the village square and looked out on him, +he scored two, still on the right side. Mr. Luce bore his grisly sack, +but he did not carry a stick of dynamite in his hand.</p> + +<p>"Goin' to put my wife in the poorhouse, hey?" he squalled.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul scored three. "She got at him and unloaded!" he murmured. +"And it fixed him, if I know cowards."</p> + +<p>"She's goin' to be a widder, hey? I'm afeard o' daminite, hey? I'll +show ye!" He swung the sack from his shoulder, and held it up in both +hands for the retreating populace to see. "I jest as soon flam this +whole thing down here in the ro'd. I jest as soon kick it. I jest +as soon set on it and smoke my pipe. I'm an outlaw and I ain't afeard +of it. You use me right and let my wife alone, or I'll show ye."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul, sailor-habit always strong with him, had for a long +time kept one of his telescopes hanging beside a window in the town +office. He took this down and studied the contour of the bumps that +swelled Mr. Luce's sack. His survey seemed to satisfy him. "Tone of +his talk is really enough—but the shape of that bag settles it with +me."</p> + +<p>The next moment all of Smyrna that happened to be in sight of the +scene gasped with horror on beholding the first selectman walk out +of the town house and stalk directly across the square toward the +dynamiter.</p> + +<p>"You go back," screamed Mr. Luce, "or I'll flam it!"</p> + +<p>But no longer was Mr. Luce's tone dauntless and ferocious. The +Cap'n's keen ear caught the coward's note of querulousness, for he +had heard that note many times before in his stormy association with +men. He chuckled and walked on more briskly.</p> + +<p>"I'll do it—I swear I will!" said Mr. Luce, but his voice was only +a weak piping.</p> + +<p>In spite of itself Smyrna stopped, groaned, and squatted where it +stood when Mr. Luce swung the sack and launched it at the intrepid +selectman. As he threw it, the outlaw turned to run. The Cap'n grabbed +the sack, catapulted it back, and caught the fleeing Mr. Luce +squarely between the shoulders; and he went down on his face with +a yell of pain. The next moment Smyrna saw her first selectman kicking +a bleating man around and around the square until the man got down, +lifted up his hands, and bawled for mercy.</p> + +<p>And when Smyrna flocked around, the Cap'n faced them, his fist +twisted in Mr. Luce's collar.</p> + +<p>"This critter belongs in State Prison, but I ain't goin' to send him +there. He's goin' onto our poor-farm, and he's goin' to work for the +first time in his life, and he'll keep to work till he works up some +of the bill he owes this town. He's a pauper because his wife has +called on. But I ain't dependin' on law. I'm runnin' this thing myself. +I've shown ye that I can run it. And if any of you quitters and cowards +have got anything to say why my sentence won't be carried out, now +is the time to say it."</p> + +<p>He glowered into their faces, but no one said anything except Zeburee +Nute, who quavered: "We allus knowed you was the smartest man that +ever came to this town, and—"</p> + +<p>"Close that mouth!" yelped Cap'n Sproul. "It's worse than an open +hatch on a superphosphate schooner."</p> + +<p>"You dare to leave that town farm, you or your wife either," the +selectman went on, giving Mr. Luce a vigorous shake, "and I'll have +you in State Prison as quick as a grand jury can indict. Nute, you +hitch and take him down there, and tell the boss he's to work ten +hours a day, with one hour's noonin', and if he don't move fast enough, +to get at him with a gad."</p> + +<p>Mr. Luce, cowed, trembling, appealing dumbly for sympathy, was +driven away while the first selectman was picking up the sack that +still lay in the village square. Without a moment's hesitation he +slit it with his big knife, and emptied its contents into a hole that +the spring frosts had left. Those contents were simply rocks.</p> + +<p>"In the name of Joanthus Cicero!" gasped Broadway, licking his dry +lips. "How did you figger it?"</p> + +<p>The Cap'n finished kicking the sack down into the hole beside the +rocks, clacked shut his knife-blade, and rammed the knife deep into +his trousers pocket.</p> + +<p>"When you critters here in town get to be grown up to be more than +ten years old," he grunted, surveying the gaping graybeards of Smyrna, +"and can understand man's business, I may talk to you. Just now I've +got something to attend to besides foolishness."</p> + +<p>And he trudged back into the town house, with his fellow-citizens +staring after him, as the populace of Rome must have stared after +victorious Cæsar.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XXXI</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>For some weeks the town of Smyrna had been witnessing something very +like a bear-baiting.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman, again played the rôle of the +bear, as he had on occasions previous.</p> + +<p>They had stalked him; they had flanked him; they had surrounded him; +they had driven him to centre; he was at bay, bristling with a sullen +rage that was excusable, if viewed from the standpoint of an earnest +town officer. Viewed from the standpoint of the populace, he was a +selfish, cross-grained old obstructionist.</p> + +<p>Here was the situation: By thrift and shrewd management he had +accumulated during his reign nearly enough funds to pay off the town +debt and retire interest-bearing notes. He had proposed to make that +feat the boast and the crowning point of his tenure of office. He +had announced that on a certain day he would have a bonfire of those +notes in the village square. After that announcement he had listened +for plaudits. What he did hear were resentful growls from taxpayers +who now discovered that they had been assessed more than the running +expenses of the town called for; and they were mad about it. The +existence of that surplus seemed to worry Smyrna. There were many +holders of town notes for small amounts, a safe investment that paid +six per cent. and escaped taxation. These people didn't want to be +paid. In many cases their fathers had loaned the money to the town, +and the safe and sound six per cent. seemed an heirloom too sacred +to be disturbed.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul's too-zealous thrift annoyed his townsmen. To have the +town owe money made individual debtors feel that owing money was not +a particularly heinous offence. To have the town free of debt might +start too enterprising rivalry in liquidation.</p> + +<p>Therefore, for the first time in his life, Consetena Tate found one +of his wild notions adopted, and gasped in profound astonishment at +the alacrity of his townsmen. Consetena Tate had unwittingly +stumbled upon a solution of that "surplus" difficulty. He wasn't +thinking of the surplus. He was too utterly impractical for that. +He was a tall, gangling, effeminate, romantic, middle-aged man whom +his parents still supported and viewed with deference as a superior +personality. He was Smyrna's only literary character.</p> + +<p>He made golden weddings gay with lengthy epics that detailed the +lives of the celebrants; he brought the dubious cheer of his verses +to house-warmings, church sociables, and other occasions when Smyrna +found itself in gregarious mood; he soothed the feelings of mourners +by obituary lines that appeared in print in the county paper when +the mourners ordered enough extra copies to make it worth the +editor's while. Added to this literary gift was an artistic one. +Consetena had painted half a dozen pictures that were displayed every +year at the annual show of the Smyrna Agricultural Fair and Gents' +Driving Association; therefore, admiring relatives accepted Mr. +Tate as a genius, and treated him as such with the confident +prediction that some day the outside world would know him and +appreciate him.</p> + +<p>A flicker of this coming fame seemed to dance on Consetena's polished +brow when he wrote a piece for the county paper, heralding the fact +that Smyrna was one hundred years old that year.</p> + +<p>Mr. Tate, having plenty of leisure to meditate on those matters, had +thought of this fact before any one else in town remembered it. He +wrote another article urging that the town fittingly celebrate the +event. The Women's Temperance Workers discussed the matter and +concurred. It would give them an opportunity to have a tent-sale of +food and fancy-work, and clear an honest penny.</p> + +<p>The three churches in town came into the project heartily. They would +"dinner" hungry strangers in the vestries, and also turn an honest +penny. The Smyrna Ancient and Honorable Firemen's Association, Hiram +Look foreman, was very enthusiastic. A celebration would afford +opportunity to parade and hold a muster.</p> + +<p>The three uniformed secret societies in town, having an ever-lurking +zest for public exhibition behind a brass-band, canvassed the +prospect delightedly. The trustees of the Agricultural Fair and +Gents' Driving Association could see a most admirable opening for +a June horse-trot.</p> + +<p>In fact, with those inducements and with motives regarding the +"surplus" spurring them on secretly, all the folks of Smyrna rose +to the occasion with a long, loud shout for the celebration—and +suggested that the "surplus" be expended in making a holiday that +would be worth waiting one hundred years for.</p> + +<p>After that shout, and as soon as he got his breath, the voice of First +Selectman Aaron Sproul was heard. He could not make as much noise +as the others, but the profusion of expletives with which he +garnished his declaration that the town's money should not be spent +that way made his talk well worth listening to.</p> + +<p>It was then that the bear-baiting began.</p> + +<p>Every society, every church, every organization in town got after +him, and Hiram Look—a betrayal of long friendship that touched the +Cap'n's red anger into white heat—captained the whole attack.</p> + +<p>The final clinch was in the town office, the Cap'n at bay like the +boar in its last stronghold, face livid and hairy fists flailing the +scattered papers of his big table. But across the table was Hiram +Look, just as intense, the unterrified representative of the +proletariat, his finger jabbing the air.</p> + +<p>"That money was paid into the treasury o' this town by the voters," +he shouted, "and, by the Sussanified heifer o' Nicodemus, it can be +spent by 'em! You're talkin' as though it was your own private +bank-account."</p> + +<p>"I want you to understand," the Cap'n shouted back with just as much +vigor—"it ain't any jack-pot, nor table-stakes, nor prize put up +for a raffle. It's town money, and I'm runnin' this town."</p> + +<p>"Do you think you're an Emp'ror Nero?" inquired Hiram, sarcastically. +"And even that old cuss wa'n't so skin-tight as you be. He provided +sports for the people, and it helped him hold his job. Hist'ry tells +you so."</p> + +<p>"There ain't any hist'ry about this," the selectman retorted with +emphasis. "It's here, now, present, and up to date. And I can give +you the future if you want any predictions. That money ain't goin' +to be throwed down a rat-hole in any such way."</p> + +<p>"Look here, Cap'n Sproul," said the showman, grinding his words +between his teeth, "you've been talkin' for a year past that they'd +pushed this job of selectman onto you, and that you didn't propose +to hold it."</p> + +<p>"Mebbe I did," agreed the Cap'n. "Most like I did, for that's the +way I feel about it."</p> + +<p>"Then s'pose you resign and let me take the job and run it the way +it ought to be run?"</p> + +<p>"How would that be—a circus every week-day and a sacred concert +Sundays? Judging from your past life and your present talk I don't +reckon you'd know how to run anything any different!" This taunt as +to his life-work in the show business and his capability stirred all +of Hiram's venom.</p> + +<p>"I've come here to tell ye," he raged, "that the citizens of this +town to a man want ye to resign as first selectman, and let some one +in that don't wear brustles and stand with both feet in the trough."</p> + +<p>"That's just the reason I won't resign—because they want me to," +returned the Cap'n with calm decisiveness. "They got behind me when +I wasn't lookin', and picked me up and rammed me into this office, +and I've been wantin' to get out ever since. But I'll be cussed if +I'll get out, now that they're tryin' to drive me out. I'm interested +enough now to stay."</p> + +<p>"Say, did you ever try to drive a hog?" demanded the irate old +circus-man.</p> + +<p>"Yes," said the Cap'n, imperturbably, "I'm tryin' it now—tryin' to +drive a whole litter of 'em away from the trough where they want to +eat up at one meal what it's taken me a whole year to scrape together."</p> + +<p>Persiflage of this sort did not appear to be accomplishing anything. +Hiram relieved his feelings by a smacking, round oath and stamped +out of the town-house.</p> + +<p>As they had done once before in the annals of his office, the other +two selectmen made a party with Sproul's opposers. They signed a call +for a special town-meeting. It was held, and an uproarious +<i>viva-voce</i> vote settled the fate of the surplus. In the rush of +popular excitement the voters did not stop to reflect on the legal +aspects of the question. Law would not have sanctioned such a +disposal of town money, even with such an overwhelming majority +behind the movement. But Cap'n Sproul still held to his ancient and +ingrained fear of lawyers. He remained away from the meeting and let +matters take their course.</p> + +<p>Hiram, still captain of the revolutionists, felt his heart grow +softer in victory. Furthermore, Cap'n Sproul, left outside the pale, +might conquer dislike of law and invoke an injunction.</p> + +<p>The next morning, bright and early, he trudged over to the first +selectman's house and bearded the sullen autocrat in his +sitting-room. He felt that the peace of the Cap'n's home was better +suited to be the setting of overtures of friendship than the angular +interior of the town office.</p> + +<p>"Cap," he said, appealingly, "they've gone and done it, and all the +sentiment of the town is one way in the matter. What's the use of +buckin' your own people as you are doin'? Get onto the band-wagon +along with the rest of us. It's goin' to be a good thing for the town. +It will bring a lot of spenders in here that day. They'll leave money +here. It will be a good time all 'round. It will give the town a good +name. Now, that money is goin' to be spent! I've made you chairman +of the whole general committee—as first selectman. You'll have the +principal say as to how the money is goin' to be spent. As long's +it's goin' to be spent that ought to be some satisfaction to you."</p> + +<p>"You take that money—you and your gang of black-flaggers that has +captured this town on the high seas—and you rub it onto your +carkisses where it will do the most good," snorted the Cap'n. "Light +cigars with it—feed it to your elephant—send it up in a balloon—I +don't give a kihooted dam what you do with it. But don't you try to +enlist me under the skull and cross-bones!"</p> + +<p>After this unpromising fashion did the conference begin. It was in +progress at noon—and Hiram remained to dinner. Breaking bread with +a friend has a consolatory effect—that cannot be denied. When they +were smoking after dinner, the first selectman grudgingly consented +to take charge of spending the money. He agreed finally with Hiram +that with him—the Cap'n—on the safety-valve, mere wasteful +folderols might be avoided—and the first selectman had seen enough +of the temper of his constituents to fear for consequences should +they get their hands into the treasury when he was not standing by.</p> + +<p>"Now," said Hiram, in conclusion, "the committee is well organized. +There's a representative from each of the societies in town to act +with you and advise."</p> + +<p>"I'd ruther try to steer a raft of lashed hen-coops from here to Bonis +Airs and back, under a barkentine rig," snapped the Cap'n. "I know +the kind o' critters they be. We won't get nowhere!"</p> + +<p>"I had to put 'em onto the committee," apologized the people's +representative. "But, you see, you and the secretary will do +practically all the work. All you've got to do is just to make 'em +think they're workin'. But you and the secretary will be the whole +thing."</p> + +<p>"Who is this secretary that I've got to chum with?" demanded the Cap'n, +suspiciously.</p> + +<p>"You see"—Hiram choked and blinked his eyes, and looked away as he +explained—"it sort of had to be done, to please the people, because +he's the feller that thought it up—and he's the only lit'ry chap +we've got in town, and he—"</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul got up and held his pipe away from his face so that no +smoke-cloud could intervene.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean to tell me," he raved, "that you've gone to work and +pinned me into the same yoke with that long-legged cross between a +blue heron and a monkey-wrench that started this whole infernal +treasury steal?"</p> + +<p>"Consetena—" began Hiram.</p> + +<p>The Cap'n dashed his clay pipe upon the brick hearth and ground the +bits under his heel.</p> + +<p>"I ain't any hand to make love to Portygee sailors," he cried; "I +don't believe I could stand it to hold one on my knee more'n half +an hour at a time. I don't like a dude. I hate a land-pirut lawyer. +But a critter I've al'ays reckoned I'd kill on sight is a grown man +that writes portry and lets his folks support him. I've heard of that +Concert—whatever his name is—Tate. I ain't ever wanted to see him. +I've been afraid of what might happen if I did. Him and me run this +thing together? Say, look here, Hiram! You say a few more things like +that to me and I shall reckon you're tryin' to give me apoplexy and +get rid of me that way!"</p> + +<p>Hiram sighed. His car of hopes so laboriously warped to the top summit +of success had been sluiced to the bottom. But he understood the +temper of the populace of Smyrna in those piping days better than +Cap'n Sproul did. Consetena Tate was not to be put aside with a wave +of the hand.</p> + +<p>Hiram began again. At first he talked to deaf ears. He even had to +drown out contumely. But his arguments were good! Consetena Tate +could write the many letters that would be necessary. There were many +organizations to invite to town, many prominent citizens of the +county to solicit, for the day would not shine without the presence +of notables. There was all the work of that sort to be done with the +delicate touch of the literary man—work that the Cap'n could not +do. Mr. Tate had earned the position—at least the folks in town +thought he had—and demanded him as the man through whom they could +accomplish all epistolary effects.</p> + +<p>In the end Hiram won the Cap'n over even to this concession. The Cap'n +was too weary to struggle farther against what seemed to be his horrid +destiny.</p> + +<p>"I'll have him at town office to-morrow mornin'," declared Hiram, +grabbing at the first growl that signified submission. "You'll find +him meek and humble and helpful—I know you will." Then he promptly +hurried away before the Cap'n revived enough to change his mind.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul found his new secretary on the steps of the town office +the next morning, and scowled on him. Mr. Tate wore a little black +hat cocked on his shaggy mane, and his thin nose was blue in the crisp +air of early May. He sat on the steps propping a big portfolio on +his knees. His thin legs outlined themselves against his baggy +trousers with the effect of broomsticks under cloth.</p> + +<p>He arose and followed the sturdy old seaman into the office. He sat +down, still clinging to the portfolio, and watched the Cap'n build +a fire in the rusty stove. The selectman had returned no answer to +the feeble attempts that Mr. Tate had made to open conversation.</p> + +<p>"Far asunder your life aims and my life aims have been, Cap'n Sproul," +observed the secretary at last. "But when ships hail each other out +of the darkness—"</p> + +<p>"Three-stickers don't usually luff very long when they're hailed by +punts," grunted the old skipper.</p> + +<p>"There is a common ground on which all may meet," insisted Mr. Tate; +"I frequently inaugurate profitable conversations and lay the +foundations of new friendships this way: Who are your favorite +poets?"</p> + +<p>"Say, now, look here!" blurted the Cap'n, coming away from the stove +and dusting his hard hands together; "you've been rammed into my +throat, and I'm havin' pretty blamed hard work to swallow you. I may +be able to do it if you don't daub on portry. Now, if you've got any +idea what you're here for and what you're goin' to do, you get at +it. Do you know?"</p> + +<p>"I had ventured upon a little plan," said Mr. Tate, meekly. "I thought +that first of all I would arrange the literary programme for the day, +the oration, the poem, the various addresses, and I already have a +little schedule to submit to you. I have a particular request to make, +Cap'n Sproul. I wish that you, as chairman of the committee, would +designate me as poet-laureate of the grand occasion."</p> + +<p>"You can be any kind of a pote you want to," said the selectman, +promptly. "And I'll tell you right here and now, I don't give a +continental thunderation about your programmy or your speech-makers—not +even if you go dig up old Dan'l Webster and set him on the stand. I +didn't start this thing, and I ain't approvin' of it. I'm simply +grabbin' in on it so that I can make sure that the fools of this town +won't hook into that money with both hands and strew it galley-west. +That's me! Now, if you've got business, then 'tend to it! And I'll be +'tendin' to mine!"</p> + +<p>It was not an encouraging prospect for a secretary who desired to +be humble and helpful. Cap'n Sproul busied himself with a little pile +of smudgy account-books, each representing a road district of the +town. He was adding "snow-bills." Mr. Tate gazed forlornly on the +fiercely puckered brow and "plipping" lips, and heard the low growl +of profanity as the Cap'n missed count on a column and had to start +over again. Then Mr. Tate sighed and opened his portfolio. He sat +staring above it at the iron visage of the first selectman, who +finally grew restive under this espionage.</p> + +<p>"Say, look-a-here, Pote Tate," he growled, levelling flaming eyes +across the table, "if you think you're goin' to set there lookin' +at me like a Chessy cat watchin' a rat-hole, you and me is goin' to +have trouble, and have it sudden and have it vi'lent!"</p> + +<p>"I wanted to ask you a question—some advice!" gasped the secretary.</p> + +<p>"Haven't I told you to pick out your business and 'tend to it?" +demanded the Cap'n, vibrating his lead-pencil.</p> + +<p>"But this is about spending some money."</p> + +<p>"Well, mebbe that's diff'runt." The selectman modified his tone. "Go +ahead and stick in your paw! What's this first grab for?" he asked, +resignedly.</p> + +<p>"To make my letters official and regular," explained Mr. Tate, "I've +got to have stationery printed with the names of the committee on +it—you as chairman, per Consetena Tate, secretary."</p> + +<p>"Go across to the printin'-office and have some struck off," directed +the selectman. "If havin' some paper to write on will get you busy +enough so't you won't set there starin' me out of countenance, it +will be a good investment."</p> + +<p>For the next few days Mr. Tate was quite successful in keeping himself +out from under foot, so the Cap'n grudgingly admitted to Hiram. He +found a little stand in a corner of the big room and doubled himself +over it, writing letters with patient care. The first ones he +ventured to submit to the Cap'n before sealing them. But the chairman +of the committee contemptuously refused to read them or to sign. +Therefore Mr. Tate did that service for his superior, signing: +"Capt. Aaron Sproul, Chairman. Per Consetena Tate, Secretary." He +piled the letters, sealed, before the Cap'n, and the latter counted +them carefully and issued stamps with scrupulous exactness. Replies +came in printed return envelopes; but, though they bore his name, +Cap'n Sproul scornfully refused to touch one of them. The stern +attitude that he had assumed toward the Smyrna centennial +celebration was this: Toleration, as custodian of the funds; but +participation, never!</p> + +<p>During many hours of the day Mr. Tate did not write, but sat and gazed +at the cracked ceiling with a rapt expression that made the Cap'n +nervous. The Cap'n spoke of this to Hiram.</p> + +<p>"That feller ain't right in his head," said the selectman. "He sets +there hours at a time, like a hen squattin' on duck-eggs, lookin' +up cross-eyed. I was through an insane horsepittle once, and they +had patients there just like that. I'd just as soon have a bullhead +snake in the room with me."</p> + +<p>"He's gettin' up his pome, that's all," Hiram explained. "I've seen +lit'ry folks in my time. They act queer, but there ain't any harm +in 'em."</p> + +<p>"That may be," allowed the Cap'n, "but I shall be almighty glad when +this centennial is over and I can get Pote Tate out of that corner, +and put the broom and poker back there, and have something sensible +to look at."</p> + +<p>Preparations for the great event went on smartly. The various +societies and interests conferred amicably, and the whole centennial +day was blocked out, from the hundred guns at early dawn to the last +sputter of the fireworks at midnight. And everything and every one +called for money; money for prizes, for souvenirs for entertainment +of visitors, for bands, for carriages—a multitude of items, all to +be settled for when the great event was over. If Cap'n Sproul had +hoped to save a remnant of his treasure-fund he was soon undeceived. +Perspiring over his figures, he discovered that there wouldn't be +enough if all demands were met. But he continued grimly to apportion.</p> + +<p>One day he woke the poet out of the trance into which he had fallen +after delivering to his chairman a great pile of sealed letters to +be counted for stamps.</p> + +<p>"What do I understand by all these bushels of epistles to the +Galatians that you've been sluicin' out?" he demanded. "Who be they, +and what are you writin' to 'em for? I've been lookin' over the names +that you've backed on these envelopes, and there isn't one of 'em +I ever heard tell of, nor see the sense in writin' to."</p> + +<p>Mr. Tate untangled his twisted legs and came over to the table, +quivering in his emotion.</p> + +<p>"Never heard of them? Never heard of them?" he repeated, gulping his +amazement. He shuffled the letters to and fro, tapping his thin +finger on the superscriptions. "Oh, you must be joking, Captain +Sproul, dear sir! Never heard of the poets and orators and <i>savants</i> +whose names are written there? Surely, 'tis a joke."</p> + +<p>"I ain't feelin' in no very great humorous state of mind these days," +returned the Cap'n with vigor. "If you see any joke in what I'm sayin' +you'd better not laugh. I tell ye, I never heard of 'em! Now you answer +my question."</p> + +<p>"Why, they are great poets, authors, orators—the great minds of the +country. They—"</p> + +<p>"Well, they ain't all mind, be they? They're hearty eaters, ain't +they? They'll want three square meals when they get here, won't they? +What I want to know now is, how many thousands of them blasted +grasshoppers you've gone to work and managed to tole in here to be +fed? I'm just wakin' up to the resks we're runnin', and it makes me +sweat cold water." He glanced apprehensively at the papers bearing +his computations.</p> + +<p>"All the replies I have received so far have been regrets," murmured +Mr. Tate, sorrowfully. "I took the greatest names first. I was +ambitious for our dear town, Captain. I went directly to the highest +founts. Perhaps I looked too high. They have all sent regrets. I have +to confess that I have not yet secured the orator of the day nor any +of the other speakers. But I was ambitious to get the best."</p> + +<p>"Well, that's the first good news I've heard since we started on this +lunatic fandango," said the Cap'n, with soulful thanksgiving. "Do +you think there's any in this last mess that 'll be li'ble to come +if they're asked?"</p> + +<p>"I have been gradually working down the scale of greatness, but I'm +afraid I have still aimed too high," confessed Mr. Tate. "Yet the +effort is not lost by any means." His eyes kindled. "All my life, +Captain Sproul, I have been eager for the autographs of great +men—that I might gaze upon the spot of paper where their mighty hands +have rested to write. I have succeeded beyond my fondest dreams. I +have a collection of autograph letters that make my heart swell with +pride."</p> + +<p>"So that's how you've been spendin' the money of this town—writin' +to folks that you knew wouldn't come, so as to get their autographs?"</p> + +<p>He touched the point better than he realized. Poet Tate's face grew +paler. After his first batch of letters had brought those returns +from the regretful great he had been recklessly scattering +invitations from the Atlantic to the Pacific—appealing invitations +done in his best style, and sanctioned by the aegis of a committee +headed by "Captain Sproul, Chairman." Such unbroken array of +declinations heartened him in his quest, and he was reaping his +halcyon harvest as rapidly as he could.</p> + +<p>"I was going to put them on exhibition at the centennial, and make +them the great feature of the day," mumbled the poet, apologetically.</p> + +<p>"So do! So do!" advised the Cap'n with bitter irony. "I can see a +ramjam rush of the people away from the tub-squirt, right in the +middle of it, to look at them autographs. I can see 'em askin' the +band to stop playin' so that they can stand and meditate on them +letters. It'll bust up the hoss-trot. Folks won't want to get away +from them letters long enough to go down to the track. I wish I'd +'a' knowed this sooner, Pote Tate. Take them letters and your pome, +and we wouldn't need to be spendin' money and foolin' it away on the +other kind of a programmy we've got up! Them Merino rams from Vienny, +Canaan, and surroundin' towns that 'll come in here full of hell and +hard cider will jest love to set down with you and study autographs +all day!"</p> + +<p>Mr. Tate flushed under the satire by which the Cap'n was expressing +his general disgust at Smyrna's expensive attempt to celebrate. He +exhibited a bit of spirit for the first time in their intercourse.</p> + +<p>"The literary exercises ought to be the grand feature of the day, +sir! Can a horse-trot or a firemen's muster call attention to the +progress of a hundred years? I fear Smyrna is forgetting the main +point of the celebration."</p> + +<p>"Don't you worry any about that, Pote," snapped the selectman. "No +one round here is losin' sight of the main point. Main point is for +churches and temperance workers and wimmen's auxiliaries to sell as +much grub as they can to visitors, and for citizens to parade round +behind a brass-band like mules with the spring-halt, and to spend +the money that I had ready to clear off the town debt. And if any +one thinks about the town bein' a hundred years old, it'll be next +mornin' when he wakes up and feels that way himself. You and me is +the losin' minority this time, Pote. I didn't want it at all, and +you want it something diff'runt." He looked the gaunt figure up and +down with a little of the sympathy that one feels for a fellow-victim. +Then he gave out stamps for the letters. "As long as it's got to be +spent, this is about the innocentest way of spendin' it," he +muttered.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XXXII</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>As the great occasion drew nearer, Mr. Tate redoubled his epistolary +efforts. He was goaded by two reasons. He had not secured his notables +for the literary programme; he would soon have neither excuse nor +stamps for collecting autographs. He descended into the lower levels +of genius and fame. He wound up his campaign of solicitation with +a stack of letters that made the Cap'n gasp. But the chairman gave +out the stamps with a certain amount of savage satisfaction in doing +it, for some of the other hateful treasury-raiders would have to go +without, and he anticipated that Poet Tate, suggester of the piracy, +would meet up with proper retribution from his own ilk when the +committee in final round-up discovered how great an inroad the +autograph-seeker had made in the funds. The Cap'n had shrewd +fore-vision as to just how Smyrna would view the expenditure of money +in that direction.</p> + +<p>For the first time, he gazed on his secretary with a sort of kindly +light in his eyes, realizing and relishing the part that Consetena +was playing. On his own part, Poet Tate welcomed this single gleam +of kindly feeling, as the Eskimo welcomes the first glimpse of the +vernal sun. He ran to his portfolio.</p> + +<p>"I have it finished, Captain!" he cried. "It is the effort of my life. +To you I offer it first of all—you shall have the first bloom of +it. It begins"—he clutched the bulky manuscript in shaking +hands—"it begins:</p> + +<p> "Ethereal Goddess, come, oh come, I pray,<br> + And press thy fingers, on this festal day,<br> + Upon my fevered brow and—"</p> + +<p>"May I ask what you're settin' about to do, there?" inquired Cap'n +Sproul, balefully.</p> + +<p>"It is my poem! I am about to read it to you, to offer it to you as +head of our municipality. I will read it to you."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n waited for the explanation patiently. He seemed to want +to make sure of the intended enormity of the offence. He even +inquired: "How much do you reckon there is of it?"</p> + +<p>"Six thousand lines," said Mr. Tate, with an author's pride.</p> + +<p>"Pote Tate," he remarked, solemnly, "seein' that you haven't ever +been brought in very close touch with deep-water sailors, and don't +know what they've had to contend with, and how their dispositions +get warped, and not knowin' my private opinion of men-grown potes, +you've set here day by day and haven't realized the chances you've +been takin'. Just one ordinary back-handed wallop, such as would only +tickle a Portygee sailor, would mean wreaths and a harp for you! Thank +God, I haven't ever forgot myself, not yet. Lay that pome back, and +tie them covers together with a hard knot."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n's ominous calm, his evident effort to repress even a loud +tone, troubled Poet Tate more than violence would have done. He took +himself and his portfolio away. As he licked his stamps in the +post-office he privately confided to the postmistress his conviction +that Cap'n Sproul was not exactly in his right mind at all times, +thus unconsciously reciprocating certain sentiments of his chairman +regarding the secretary's sanity.</p> + +<p>"I don't think I'll go back to the office," said Mr. Tate. "I have +written all my letters. All those that come here in printed envelopes +for Captain Sproul I will take, as secretary."</p> + +<p>At the end of another ten days, and on the eve of the centennial, +Mr. Tate had made an interesting discovery. It was to the effect that +although genius in the higher altitudes is not easily come at, and +responds by courteous declinations and regrets, genius in the lower +levels is still desirous of advertising and an opportunity to shine, +and can be cajoled by promise of refunded expenses and lavish +entertainment as guest of the municipality.</p> + +<p>The last batch of letters of invitation, distributed among those +lower levels of notability, elicited the most interesting autograph +letters of all; eleven notables accepted the invitation to deliver +the oration of the day; a dozen or so announced that they would be +present and speak on topics connected with the times, and one and +all assured Captain Aaron Sproul that they thoroughly appreciated +his courtesy, and looked forward to a meeting with much pleasure, +and trusted, etc., etc.</p> + +<p>Poet Tate, mild, diffident, unpractical Poet Tate, who in all his +life had never been called upon to face a crisis, did not face this +one.</p> + +<p>The bare notion of going to Cap'n Aaron Sproul and confessing made +his brain reel. The memory of the look in the Cap'n's eyes, evoked +by so innocent a proposition as the reading of six thousand lines +of poetry to him, made Mr. Tate's fluttering heart bang against his +ribs. Even when he sat down to write a letter, making the confession, +his teeth chattered and his pen danced drunkenly. It made him so faint, +even to put the words on paper, that he flung his pen away.</p> + +<p>A more resourceful man, a man with something in his head besides +dreams, might have headed off the notables. But in his panic Poet +Tate became merely a frightened child with the single impulse to flee +from the mischief he had caused. With his poem padding his thin chest, +he crept out of his father's house in the night preceding the great +day, and the blackness swallowed him up. Uneasy urchins in the +distant village were already popping the first firecrackers of the +celebration. Poet Tate groaned, and fled.</p> + +<p>Cap'n Aaron Sproul arrived at the town office next morning in a frame +of mind distinctly unamiable. Though his house was far out of the +village, the unearthly racket of the night had floated up to +him—squawking horns, and clanging bells, and exploding powder. The +hundred cannons at sunrise brought a vigorous word for each +reverberation. At an early hour Hiram Look had come over, gay in his +panoply as chief of the Ancient and Honorables, and repeated his +insistent demand that the Cap'n ride at the head of the parade in +an imported barouche, gracing the occasion as head of the +municipality.</p> + +<p>"The people demand it," asseverated Hiram with heat. "The people have +rights over you."</p> + +<p>"Same as they had over that surplus in the town treasury, hey?" +inquired the Cap'n. "What's that you're luggin' in that paper as +though 'twas aigs?"</p> + +<p>"It's one of my plug hats that I was goin' to lend you," explained +his friend, cheerily. "I've rigged it up with a cockade. I figger +that we can't any of us be too festal on a day like this. I know you +ain't no ways taken to plug hats; but when a man holds office and +the people look to him for certain things, he has to bow down to the +people. We're goin' to have a great and glorious day of this, Cap," +he cried, all his showman's soul infected by gallant excitement, and +enthusiasm glowing in his eyes. It was a kind of enthusiasm that Cap'n +Sproul's gloomy soul resented.</p> + +<p>"I've had consid'able many arguments with you, Hiram, over this +affair, first and last, and just at present reck'nin' I'm luggin' +about all the canvas my feelin's will stand. Now I won't wear that +damnation stove-funnel hat; I won't ride in any baroosh; I won't make +speeches; I won't set up on any platform. I'll simply set in town +office and 'tend to my business, and draw orders on the treasury to +pay bills, as fast as bills are presented. That's what I started out +to do, and that's all I will do. And if you don't want to see me jibe +and all go by the board, you keep out of my way with your plug hats +and barooshes. And it might be well to inform inquirin' friends to +the same effect."</p> + +<p>He pushed away the head-gear that Hiram still extended toward him, +and tramped out of the house and down the hill with his sturdy +sea-gait. Dodging firecrackers that sputtered and banged in the +highway about his feet, and cursing soulfully, he gained the town +office and grimly sat himself down.</p> + +<p>He knew when the train from down-river and the outside world had +arrived by the riotous accessions to the crowds without in the square. +Firemen in red shirts thronged everywhere. Men who wore feathered +hats and tawdry uniforms filled the landscape. He gazed on them with +unutterable disgust.</p> + +<p>A stranger awakened him from his reverie on the vanities of the world. +The stranger had studied the sign</p> + +<center><h4>SELECTMEN'S OFFICE</h4></center> + +<p>and had come in. He wore a frock coat and shiny silk hat, and inquired +whether he had the pleasure of speaking to Captain Aaron Sproul, +first selectman of Smyrna.</p> + +<p>"I'm him," said the Cap'n, glowering up from under knotted eyebrows, +his gaze principally on the shiny tile.</p> + +<p>"I was just a little surprised that there was no committee of +reception at the station to meet me," said the stranger, in mild +rebuke. "There was not even a carriage there. But I suppose it was +an oversight, due to the rush of affairs to-day."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n still scowled at him, not in the least understanding why +this stranger should expect to be carted into the village from the +railroad.</p> + +<p>"I will introduce myself. I am Professor William Wilson Waverley, +orator of the day; I have had some very pleasant correspondence with +you, Captain Sproul, and I'm truly glad to meet you face to face."</p> + +<p>"You've got the advantage of me," blurted the Cap'n, still dense. +"I never heard of you before in my life, nor I never wrote you any +letter, unless I got up in my sleep and done it."</p> + +<p>With wonderment and some irritation growing on his face, the stranger +pulled out a letter and laid it before the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>The selectman studied it long enough to see that it was an earnest +invitation to honor the town of Smyrna with a centennial oration, +and that the town would pay all expenses; and the letter was signed, +"Captain Aaron Sproul, First Selectman and Chairman of Committee, +Per Consetena Tate, Secretary."</p> + +<p>"I never saw that before," insisted the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"Do you mean that you disown it?"</p> + +<p>"No, I reckon it's all official and regular. What I just said about +not havin' seen it before might have sounded a little queer, but +there's an explanation goes with it. You see, it's been this way. +I—"</p> + +<p>But at that moment fully a score of men filed into the office, all +of them with set faces and indignant demeanors. The Cap'n was not +well posted on the breed of literati, but with half an eye he noted +that these were not the ordinary sort of men. There were more silk +hats, there were broad-brimmed hats, there was scrupulousness in +attire, there was the disarray of Bohemianism. And it was plainly +evident that these later arrivals had had word of conference with +each other. Each held a "Per Consetena Tate" letter in his hand.</p> + +<p>"I have met with some amazing situations in my time—in real life +and in romance," stated a hard-faced man who had evidently been +selected as spokesman. "But this seems so supremely without parallel +that I am almost robbed of expression. Here are ten of us, each having +the same identical letter of invitation to deliver the oration of +the day here on this occasion."</p> + +<p>"Ten, did you say? Eleven," said the first-comer. "Here is my +letter."</p> + +<p>"And the others have invitations to deliver discourses," went on the +spokesman, severely. "As your name is signed to all these letters, +Captain Aaron Sproul, first selectman of Smyrna, perhaps you will +deign to explain to us what it all means."</p> + +<p>Cap'n Sproul arose and then sat down; arose and sat down again. He +tried to speak, but only a husky croak came forth. Something seemed +to have crawled into his throat—something fuzzy and filling, that +would not allow language to pass.</p> + +<p>"Here are more than twenty prominent men, seduced from their manifold +duties, called away up here to satisfy the rural idea of a joke—or, +at least, I can see no other explanation," proceeded the hard-faced +man. "It might be remarked in passing that the joke will be an +expensive one for this town. Eleven distinguished men called here +to deliver one oration in a one-horse town!"</p> + +<p>The Cap'n did not like the bitter irony of his tone, and recovered +his voice enough to say,</p> + +<p>"You might cut the cards or spit at a crack, gents, to see which one +does deliver the oration." But the pleasantry did not evoke any smile +from that disgusted assemblage.</p> + +<p>"It is safe to say that after this hideous insult not one of us will +speak," declared one of the group. "But I for one would like some +light on the insane freak that prompted this performance. As you are +at the head of this peculiar community, we'd like you to speak for +it."</p> + +<p>Somewhat to his own surprise, Cap'n Sproul did not find in himself +any especially bitter animosity toward Mr. Tate, just then, search +his soul as he might.</p> + +<p>These "lit'ry fellows," cajoled by one of their own ilk into this +unspeakable muddle, were, after all, he reflected, of the sort he +had scorned with all his sailor repugnance to airs and pretensions. +Cap'n Sproul possessed a peculiarly grim sense of humor. This +indignant assemblage appealed to that sense.</p> + +<p>"Gents," he said, standing up and propping himself on the table by +his knuckles, "there are things in this world that are deep mysteries. +Of course, men like you reckon you know most everything there is to +be known. But you see that on the bottom of each letter you have, +there are the words: 'Per Consetena Tate.' There's where the mystery +is in this case."</p> + +<p>"I imagine it isn't so deep a mystery but that we can understand it +if you will explain," said the spokesman, coldly.</p> + +<p>"There's where you are mistaken," declared the Cap'n. "It would take +a long time to tell you the inside of this thing, and even then you +wouldn't know which, what, or whuther about it." In his heart Cap'n +Sproul was resolved that he would not own up to these strangers the +part his own negligence had played. He reflected for his consolation +that he had not projected the centennial celebration of Smyrna. It +occurred to him with illuminating force that he had pledged himself +to only one thing: to pay the bills of the celebration as fast as +they were presented to him. Consetena Tate was the secretary the town +had foisted on his committee. Consetena Tate had made definite +contracts. His lips twisted into a queer smile under his beard.</p> + +<p>"Gents," he said, "there isn't any mystery about them contracts, +however. This town pays its bills. You say no one of you wants to +orate? That is entirely satisfactory to me—for I ain't runnin' that +part. I'm here to pay bills. Each one of you make out his bill and +receipt it. Then come with me to the town treasurer's office."</p> + +<p>The tumultuous throngs that spied Cap'n Sproul leading that file of +distinguished men to Broadway's store—Broadway being treasurer of +Smyrna—merely gazed with a flicker of curiosity and turned again +to their sports, little realizing just what effect that file of men +was to have on the financial sinews of those sports. Cap'n Sproul +scarcely realized it himself until all the returns were in. He simply +hoped, that's all! And his hopes were more than justified.</p> + +<p>"My Gawd, Cap'n," gasped Odbar Broadway when the notables had +received their money and had filed out, "what does this mean? There +ain't more'n a hundred dollars left of the surplus fund, and there +ain't any of the prizes and appropriations paid yet! Who be them +plug-hatters from all over God's creation, chalkin' up railroad +fares agin us like we had a machine to print money in this town?"</p> + +<p>"Them vouchers is all right, ain't they?" demanded the Cap'n. "Them +vouchers with letters attached?"</p> + +<p>"Yes, they be," faltered the treasurer.</p> + +<p>"So fur as who strangers may be, you can ask Pote Consetena Tate, +secretary, about that. They're lit'ry gents, and he's done all the +official business with them."</p> + +<p>Broadway stared at him, and then began to make some hasty figures.</p> + +<p>"See here, Cap'n," he said, plaintively, "there's just about enough +of that fund left to settle the committee bill here at my store. Have +I got to share pro raty?"</p> + +<p>"Pay yourself and clean it out. I'll countersign your bill," declared +the chairman, cheerfully. "If there ain't any fund, I can go home. +I'm infernal sick of this hellitywhoop noise."</p> + +<p>And he trudged back up the hill to the quietude of his farm, with +deep content.</p> + +<p>He had been some hours asleep that night when vigorous poundings on +his door awoke him, and when at last he appeared on his piazza he +found a large and anxious delegation of citizens filling his yard.</p> + +<p>"Cap'n," bleated one of the committee, "Broadway says there ain't +any money to pay prizes with."</p> + +<p>"Vouchers is all right. Money paid on contracts signed by your +official secretary, that you elected unanimous," said the Cap'n, +stoutly.</p> + +<p>"We know it," cried the committeeman, "but we don't understand it."</p> + +<p>"Then hunt up the man that made the contracts—Pote Tate," advised +the selectman. "All the business I've done was to pay out the money. +You know what stand I've took right along."</p> + +<p>"We know it, Cap'n, and we ain't blamin' you—but we don't understand, +and we can't find Consetena Tate. His folks don't know where he is. +He's run away."</p> + +<p>"Potes are queer critters," sighed the Cap'n, compassionately. He +turned to go in.</p> + +<p>"But how are we goin' to get the money to pay up for the sports, the +fireworks, and things?"</p> + +<p>"Them that hires fiddlers and dances all day and night must expect +to pay said fiddlers," announced the Cap'n, oracularly. "I reckon +you'll have to pass the hat for the fiddlers."</p> + +<p>"If that's the case," called the committeeman, heart-brokenly, +"won't you put your name down for a little?"</p> + +<p>"Since I've had the rheumatiz I ain't been any hand at all to dance," +remarked the Cap'n, gently, through the crack of the closing door.</p> + +<p>And they knew what he meant, and went away down the hill, as sober +as the cricket when he was departing from the door of the thrifty +ant.</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>XXXIII</h3></center> +<br> + +<p>First Selectman Sproul halted for a few moments on the steps of the +town house the next morning in order to gaze out surlily on the +left-overs of that day of celebration. Smyrna's village square was +unsightly with a litter of evil-smelling firecracker remnants, with +torn paper bags, broken canes, dented tin horns and all the usual +flotsam marking the wake of a carnival crowd.</p> + +<p>Constable Nute came tramping to him across this untidy carpeting and +directed his attention to the broken windows in the town house and +in other buildings that surrounded the square.</p> + +<p>"Actions of visitin' firemen, mostly," explained the constable, +gloomily. "Took that way of expressin' their opinion of a town that +would cheat 'em out of prize-money that they came down here all in +good faith to get. And I don't blame 'em to any great extent."</p> + +<p>"Nor I, either," agreed the Cap'n with a readiness that surprised +Mr. Nute. "A town that doesn't pay its bills ought to be ashamed of +itself."</p> + +<p>The constable backed away a few steps and stared at this amazing +detractor.</p> + +<p>"I paid bills prompt and honest just as long as there was any money +to pay 'em with," the Cap'n went on. "There's nothin' on <i>my</i> +conscience."</p> + +<p>"Yes, but who did you pay the money to?" complained Nute, voicing +the protest of Smyrna. "The least you could have done was to make +them plug-hatters share pro raty with the fire-company boys—and the +fire-company boys furnished the show; them plug-hatters didn't."</p> + +<p>"It's always been my rule to pay a hundred cents on the dollar, and +I paid the hundred cents so long as the cash lasted. Go hunt up your +Pote Tate if you want to know why the plug-hatters had a good claim."</p> + +<p>"He's back, Tate is, and we made him explain, and this town had no +business in givin' a cussed fool like him so much power. If I had +cut up the caper he has I'd have stayed away, but he's back for his +folks to support him some more. He didn't even have gumption enough +to beg vittles."</p> + +<p>"Well, this town has had a hearty meal, and all is I hope it won't +feel hungry for celebrations till it's time for the next centennial," +observed the Cap'n. "There's one thing about this affair that I'm +goin' to praise—it was hearty and satisfyin'. It has dulled the +celebratin' appetite in this town for some time." He went into town +office.</p> + +<p>The constable followed and laid a paper before him. It was a petition +of citizens for a special town-meeting; and there being a sufficient +number of names on the paper, it became a matter of duty for Cap'n +Sproul to call the meeting prayed for.</p> + +<p>He quietly proceeded to draw up the necessary notice. Nute evidently +expected that the Cap'n would promptly understand the meaning of the +proposed meeting and would burst into violent speech. But the +selectman hummed an old sea chanty while he hunted for a blank, and +smiled as he penned the document.</p> + +<p>"Committee has been to Squire Alcander Reeves to get some law on the +thing," proceeded Nute, disappointed by this lack of interest in +affairs. "Reeves says that since the show was advertised as a town +shindig the town has got to stand behind and fid up for the money +that's shy. Says it ain't supposed to fall on the committees to pay +for what the town's beholden for."</p> + +<p>"Let 'em go ahead and settle it to suit all hands," remarked the first +selectman, amiably. "As the feller used to sing in the dog-watch:</p> + +<p> "'Says Jonah, addressin' the whale, "I wish<br> + You'd please take notice that I like fish."<br> + Says the whale to Jonah, "It's plain to see<br> + That you are goin' to agree with me."'"</p> + +<p>A considerable gathering of the taxpayers of Smyrna had been waiting +on the platform of Odbar Broadway's store for the first selectman +to appear and open the town office. Hiram Look had marshalled them +there. Now he led them across the square and they filed into the +office.</p> + +<p>The Cap'n did not look up until he had finished his work on the notice. +He handed the paper to Nute with orders to post it after the +signatures of the two associate selectmen had been secured.</p> + +<p>Then to his surprise Hiram Look received an extremely benignant smile +from the Cap'n.</p> + +<p>"You ain't objectin' any to the special town-meetin', then?" +inquired Hiram, losing some of his apprehensiveness.</p> + +<p>"I'm callin' it as quick as the law will let me—and happy to do so," +graciously returned the first selectman.</p> + +<p>Hiram took off his tall hat with the air of one who has been invited +to remain, after anticipating violent rebuff.</p> + +<p>"You know, don't you, what the voters want this special meetin' for?"</p> + +<p>"Sartin sure," cried the Cap'n. "Got to have money to square up bills +and take the cuss off'm this town of welchin' on a straight +proposition to outsiders who came down here all in good faith after +prizes."</p> + +<p>"Exactly," cried Hiram, glowing. "Didn't I always tell you, boys, +that though Cap'n Aaron Sproul might be a little gruff and a bit short, +sea-capt'in fashion, he was all right underneath?"</p> + +<p>There was a mumble of assent.</p> + +<p>"There ain't a first selectman in this State that has shown any more +science in handlin' his job than Cap'n Aaron Sproul of this town."</p> + +<p>"When you come to remember back how he's grabbed in and taken the +brunt every time there's been anything that needed to be handled +proper, you've got to admit all what you've said, Mr. Look," assented +another of the party.</p> + +<p>"We know now that it was by Tate forgin' your name and runnin' things +underhanded that the town got into the scrape it did," Hiram went +on. "Them bills had to be paid to keep outsiders slingin' slurs at +us. You done just right. The town will have to meet and vote more +money to pay the rest of the bills. But probably it won't come as +hard as we think. What I was goin' to ask you, Cap'n Sproul, was +whether there ain't an overplus in some departments? We can use that +money so far's it'll go."</p> + +<p>"Pauper department has something extry," stated the first selectman, +dryly. "I was thinkin' of buyin' a new furnace for the poor-farm, +but we can let the paupers shiver through another winter so's to pay +them squirtin' prizes to the firemen."</p> + +<p>"We don't want to do anything that ain't just accordin' to Hoyle," +said Hiram, flushing a little, for he sensed the satire. "We'll meet +and vote the money and then we can sit back and take comfort in +thinkin' that there's just the right man at the head of town affairs +to economize us back onto Easy Street." He was eager to flatter. "This +town understands what kind of a man it wants to keep in office. I +take back all I ever said about opposin' you, Cap'n."</p> + +<p>"And that's the general sentiment of the town," affirmed Odbar +Broadway.</p> + +<p>The face of the first selectman did not indicate that he was +especially gratified.</p> + +<p>"That is to say," he inquired grimly, "after I've fussed, figured, +and struggled for most of two years to save money and pay off the +debts of this town and have had the cash yanked away from me like +honey out of a hive, I'm supposed to start in all over again and do +a similar job for this town on a salary of sixty dollars a year?"</p> + +<p>"We don't feel you ought to put it just that way," objected Hiram.</p> + +<p>"That's the way it suits me to put it. You can do it to me once—you +have done it—but this is where this partickler little busy bee stops +makin' honey for the town of Smyrna to lap up at one mouthful. That +special town-meetin' comes along all handy for me. You notice I ain't +objectin' to havin' it held."</p> + +<p>Constable Nute, who had been looking puzzled ever since the selectman +had signed the call for the meeting, perked up with the interest of +one who is about to hear a mystery explained.</p> + +<p>"For," the Cap'n went on, "I was goin' to call one on my own hook +so that I can resign this office. I serve notice on you now that when +this town touches dock at that meetin' I step ashore with my little +dunnage bag on my back."</p> + +<p>"The town won't let you do it," blazed Hiram.</p> + +<p>"I was shanghaied aboard. You want to be careful, all of ye, how you +gather at the gangway when I start to walk ashore! It's fair warnin'. +Take heed of it!"</p> + +<p>There was an expression on his weather-worn countenance that checked +further expostulation. Hiram angrily led them out after a few +muttered expletives.</p> + +<p>"I've heard of contrary tantryboguses in my time," stated Broadway +when they were back at his store, "but that feller over there has +got all of 'em backed into the stall. This town better wake up. We've +let ourselves be bossed around by him as though Smyrna was rigged +out with masts and sails and he was boss of the quarter-deck. Give +me a first selectman that has got less brustles."</p> + +<p>It was the first word of a general revolt. It is the nature of man +to pretend that he does not desire what he cannot get. The voters +of Smyrna took that attitude.</p> + +<p>On the eve of the projected town-meeting Hiram Look strolled over +to call on his friend Sproul. The latter had been close at home for +days, informing his loyal wife that for the first time since he had +settled ashore he was beginning to appreciate what peace and quiet +meant.</p> + +<p>"I don't know how it happened," he informed Hiram, "how I ever let +myself be pull-hauled as much as I've been. Why, I haven't had time +allowed me to stop and consider what a fool and lackey I was lettin' +'em make of me. When I left the sea I came ashore with a hankerin' +for rest, comfort, and garden sass of my own raisin', and I've been +beatin' into a head wind of hoorah-ste-boy ever since. From now on +I'll show you a man that's settled down to enjoy life!"</p> + +<p>"That's the right way for you to feel," affirmed Hiram. "You take +a man that holds office and the tide turns against him after a while. +It's turned against you pretty sharp."</p> + +<p>"Don't see how you figger that," returned the Cap'n with complacency. +"I'm gettin' out just the right time. Time to leave is when they're +coaxin' you to stay. If I'd stayed in till they got to growlin' around +and wantin' to put me out I'd have to walk up and down in this town +like Gid Ward does now—meechin' as a scalt pup. That's why I'm takin' +so much personal satisfaction in gettin' out—they want to keep me +in."</p> + +<p>"You ought to travel out around this town a little," returned his +friend, grimly. "The way they're talkin' now you'd think they was +goin' to have bonfires and a celebration when they get rid of you. +Hate to hurt your feelin's, but I'm only reportin' facts, and just +as they're talkin' it. Bein' a friend I can say it to your face."</p> + +<p>The expression of bland pride faded out of Cap'n Sproul's face. For +a moment he seemed inclined to doubt Hiram's word in violent terms. +A few words did slip out.</p> + +<p>The old showman interrupted him.</p> + +<p>"Go out and sound the pulse for yourself. I never lied to you yet. +You've cuffed the people around pretty hard, you'll have to admit +that. Take a feller in politics that undertakes to boss too much, +and when the voters do turn on him they turn hard. They've done it +to you. They're glad you're goin' out. You couldn't be elected +hog-reeve in Smyrna to-day."</p> + +<p>The Cap'n glared at him, voiceless for the moment.</p> + +<p>"I know it hurts, but I'm tellin' you the truth," Hiram went on, +remorselessly. "If they don't stand up and give three cheers in +town-meetin' to-morrow when you hand in your resignation I'll be much +surprised."</p> + +<p>"Who's been lyin' about me?" demanded the first selectman.</p> + +<p>"It ain't that way at all! Seems like the town sort of woke up all +of a sudden and realized it didn't like your style of managin'. The +way you acted when the delegation came to you put on the finishin' +touch. Now, Aaron, you don't have to take my word for this. Prob'ly +it doesn't interest you—but you can trot around and find out for +yourself, if it does."</p> + +<p>The first selectman, his eyes gleaming, the horn of gray hair that +he twisted in moments of mental stress standing straight up, rose +and reached for his hat.</p> + +<p>"Mutiny on me, will they?" he growled. "We'll jest see about that!"</p> + +<p>"Where are you goin', Aaron?" asked the placid Louada Murilla, +troubled by his ireful demeanor.</p> + +<p>"I'm goin' to find out if this jeebasted town is goin' to kick me +out of office! They'll discover they haven't got any Kunnel Gid Ward +to deal with!"</p> + +<p>"But you said you were out of politics, Aaron!" Dismay and grief were +in her tones. "I want you for myself, husband. You promised me. I +don't want you to go back into politics."</p> + +<p>"I hain't ever been out of politics yet," he retorted. "And if there +are any men in this town that think I'm down and out they'll have +another guess comin'."</p> + +<p>He marched out of the house, leaving his visiting friend in most +cavalier fashion.</p> + +<p>Hiram stared after him, meditatively stroking his long mustache.</p> + +<p>"Mis' Sproul," he said at last, "you take muddy roads, wet grounds, +balky animils, fool rubes, drunken performers, and the high price +of lemons, and the circus business is some raspy on the general +disposition. But since I've known your husband I've come to the +conclusion that it's an angel-maker compared with goin' to sea."</p> + +<p>"You had no business tellin' him what you did," complained the wife. +"You ought to understand his disposition by this time."</p> + +<p>"I ought to, but I see I don't," acknowledged the friend. He scrubbed +his plug hat against his elbow and started for the door. "I'd been +thinkin' that if ever I'd run up against a man that really wanted +to shuck office that man was your husband. I reckoned he really knew +what he wanted part of the time."</p> + +<p>"Can't you go after him and make him change his mind back?" she +pleaded.</p> + +<p>"The voters of this town will attend to that. I was tellin' him the +straight truth. If he don't get it passed to him hot off the bat when +he tackles 'em, then I'm a sucker. You needn't worry, marm. He'll +have plenty of time to 'tend to his garden sass this summer."</p> + +<p>It was midnight when Cap'n Sproul returned to an anxious and waiting +wife. He was flushed and hot and hoarse, but the gleam in his eye +was no longer that of offended pride and ireful resolve. There was +triumph in his glance.</p> + +<p>"If there's a bunch of yaller dogs think they can put me out of office +in this town they'll find they're tryin' to gnaw the wrong bone," +he declared hotly.</p> + +<p>"But you had told them you wouldn't take the office—you insisted +that you were going to resign—you said—"</p> + +<p>"It didn't make any diff'runce what I said—when I said it things +was headed into the wind and all sails was drawin' and I was on my +course. But you let some one try to plunk acrost my bows when I'm +on the starboard tack, and have got right of way, well, more or less +tophamper is goin' to be carried away—and it won't be mine."</p> + +<p>"What have you done, Aaron?" she inquired with timorous solicitude.</p> + +<p>"Canvassed this town from one end to the other and by moral suasion, +the riot act, and a few other things I've got pledges from +three-quarters of the voters that when I pass in my resignation +to-morrow they'll vote that they won't accept it and will ask me to +keep on in office for the good of Smyrna. This town won't get a chance +to yoke me up with your brother Gid and point us out as a steer team +named 'Down and Out!' He's 'Down' but I ain't 'Out' yet, not by a +dam—excuse me, Louada Murilla! But I've been mixin' into politics +and talkin' political talk."</p> + +<p>"And I had so hoped you were out of it," she sighed, as she followed +him to their repose.</p> + +<p>She watched him make ready and depart for town hall the next morning +without comment, but the wistful look in her eyes spoke volumes. +Cap'n Sproul was silent with the air of a man with big events fronting +him.</p> + +<p>She watched the teams jog along the highway toward the village. She +saw them returning in dusty procession later in the forenoon—signal +that the meeting was over and the voters were returning to their +homes.</p> + +<p>In order to beguile the monotony of waiting she hunted up the +blank-book in which she had begun to write "The Life Story of Gallant +Captain Aaron Sproul." She read the brief notes that she had been +able to collect from him and reflected with bitterness that there +was little hope of securing much more data from a man tied up with +the public affairs of a town which exacted so much from its first +selectman.</p> + +<p>Upon her musings entered Cap'n Sproul, radiant, serene. He bent and +kissed her after the fashion of the days of the honeymoon.</p> + +<p>"Whew!" he whistled, sitting down in a porch chair and gazing off +across the blue hills. "It's good to get out of that steam and stew +down in that hall. I say, Louada Murilla, there ain't in this whole +world a much prettier view than that off acrost them hills. It's a +good picture for a man to spend his last days lookin' at."</p> + +<p>"I'm afraid you aren't going to get much time to look at it, husband." +She fondled her little book and there was a bit of pathos in her voice.</p> + +<p>"Got all the time there is!"</p> + +<p>There was a buoyancy in his tones that attracted her wondering +attention.</p> + +<p>"They wouldn't accept that resignation," he said with great +satisfaction. "It was unanimous. Them yaller dogs never showed +themselves. Yes, s'r, unanimous, and a good round howl of a hurrah +at that! Ought to have been there and seen the expression on Hiram's +face! I reckon I've shown him a few things in politics that will last +him for an object-lesson."</p> + +<p>"I suppose they'll want to keep you in for life, now," she said with +patient resignation. "And I had so hoped—"</p> + +<p>She did not finish. He looked at her quizzically for a little while +and her expression touched him.</p> + +<p>"I was intendin' to string the agony out and keep you on tenter-hooks +a little spell, Louada Murilla," he went on. "But I hain't got the +heart to do it. All is, they wouldn't accept that resignation, just +as I've told you. It makes a man feel pretty good to be as popular +as that in his own town. Of course it wasn't all love and abidin' +affection—I had to go out last night and temper it up with politics +a little—but you've got to take things in this world just as they're +handed to you. I stood up and made a speech and I thanked 'em—and +it was a pretty good speech."</p> + +<p>He paused and narrowed his eyes and dwelt fondly for a moment on the +memory of the triumph.</p> + +<p>"But when you're popular in a town and propose to spend your last +days in that town and want to stay popular and happy and contented +there's nothin' like clinchin' the thing. So here's what I done there +and then, Louada Murilla: I praised up the voters of Smyrna as bein' +the best people on earth and then I told 'em that, havin' an interest +in the old town and wantin' to see her sail on full and by and all +muslin drawin' and no barnacles of debt on the bottom, I'd donate +out of my pocket enough to pay up all them prizes and purses +contracted for in the celebration—and then I resigned again as first +selectman. And I made 'em understand that I meant it, too!"</p> + +<p>"Did they let you resign?" she gasped.</p> + +<p>"Sure—after a tussle! But you see I'd made myself so popular by that +time that they'd do anything I told 'em to do, even to lettin' me +resign! And there's goin' to be a serenade to me to-night, Hiram +Look's fife and drum corps and the Smyrna Ancients leadin' the parade. +Last thing I done down-town was order the treat."</p> + +<p>He nested his head in his interlocked fingers and leaned back.</p> + +<p>"Louada Murilla, you and me is goin' to take solid comfort from now +on—and there's nothin' like bein' popular in the place where you +live." He glanced sideways at the little blank-book.</p> + +<p>"We've been kind of neglectin' that, hain't we, wife? But we're goin' +to have a good, long, cozy, chatty time together now! Make a note +of this: One time when I was eleven days out from Boston with a cargo +of woodenware bound to Australia, we run acrost a—"</p> + +<br><br><br><br> + +<center><h3>THE END</h3></center> + + + + + + + + +<pre> + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Skipper and the Skipped, by Holman Day + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SKIPPER AND THE SKIPPED *** + +***** This file should be named 16631-h.htm or 16631-h.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/6/3/16631/ + +Produced by Ron Swanson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Skipper and the Skipped + Being the Shore Log of Cap'n Aaron Sproul + +Author: Holman Day + +Release Date: September 1, 2005 [EBook #16631] + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: ASCII + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SKIPPER AND THE SKIPPED *** + + + + +Produced by Ron Swanson + + + + + +[Frontispiece: THE SKIPPER TELLS OF "THE GLORIOUS, FASCINATING SEA." +See Chapter II.] + + + + +THE SKIPPER AND THE SKIPPED + +BEING THE SHORE LOG OF CAP'N AARON SPROUL + + +BY +HOLMAN DAY + +AUTHOR OF +"THE RAMRODDERS" +"KING SPRUCE" ETC. + + +ILLUSTRATED + + +NEW YORK AND LONDON +HARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERS +MCMXI + + + + +BOOKS BY +HOLMAN DAY + +THE SKIPPER AND THE SKIPPED. Post 8vo . . $1.50 +THE RAMRODDERS. Post 8vo . . . . . . . . $1.50 +KING SPRUCE. Ill'd. Post 8vo . . . . . . $1.50 +THE EAGLE'S BADGE. Ill'd. Post 8vo . . . $1.25 + +HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, N.Y. + + + + +COPYRIGHT, 1911. BY HARPER & BROTHERS +PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA +PUBLISHED FEBRUARY, 1911 + + + + +THE SKIPPER AND THE SKIPPED + + + + +I + + +Cap'n Aaron Sproul, late skipper of the _Jefferson P. Benn_, sat by +the bedside of his uncle, "One-arm" Jerry, and gazed into the +latter's dimming eyes. + +"It ain't bein' a crowned head, but it's honer'ble," pleaded the sick +man, continuing the conversation. + +His eager gaze found only gloominess in his nephew's countenance. + +"One way you look at it, Uncle Jed," said the Cap'n, "it's a come-down +swifter'n a slide from the foretop the whole length of the boomstay. +I've been master since I was twenty-four, and I'm goin' onto +fifty-six now. I've licked every kind in the sailorman line, from +a nigger up to Six-fingered Jack the Portugee. If it wa'n't for--ow, +Josephus Henry!--for this rheumatiz, I'd be aboard the _Benn_ this +minute with a marlinespike in my hand, and op'nin' a fresh package +of language." + +"But you ain't fit for the sea no longer," mumbled One-arm Jerry +through one corner of the mouth that paralysis had drawn awry. + +"That's what I told the owners of the _Benn_ when I fit 'em off'm +me and resigned," agreed the Cap'n. "I tell ye, good skippers ain't +born ev'ry minute--and they knowed it. I've been turnin' 'em in ten +per cent. on her, and that's good property. I've got an eighth into +her myself, and with a man as good as I am to run her, I shouldn't +need to worry about doin' anything else all my life--me a single man +with no one dependent. I reckon I'll sell. Shipmasters ain't what +they used to be." + +"Better leave it where it is," counselled Jerry, his cautious thrift +dominating even in that hour of death. "Land-sharks is allus lookin' +out sharp for sailormen that git on shore." + +"It's why I don't dast to go into business--me that's follered the +sea so long," returned the skipper, nursing his aching leg. + +"Then do as I tell ye to do," said the old man on the bed. "It may +be a come-down for a man that's had men under him all his life, but +it amounts to more'n five hundred a year, sure and stiddy. It's +something to do, and you couldn't stand it to loaf--you that's always +been so active. It ain't reskin' anything, and with all the passin' +and the meetin' folks, and the gossipin' and the chattin', and all +that, all your time is took up. It's honer'ble, it's stiddy. Leave +your money where it is, take my place, and keep this job in the +family." + +The two men were talking in a little cottage at the end of a long +covered bridge. A painted board above the door heralded the fact that +the cottage was the toll-house, and gave the rates of toll. + +"It's Providence that has sent you here jest as I was bein' took out +of the world," went on Uncle Jerry. "You're my only rel'tive. I'm +leavin' you the three thousand I've accumulated. I want to leave you +the job, too. I--" + +A hoarse hail outside interrupted. The Cap'n, scowling, shuffled out +and came in, jingling some pennies in his brown hand. + +"I feel like a hand-organ monkey every time I go out there," he +muttered. + +"I tell ye," protested the old man, as earnestly as his feebleness +would permit, "there's lots of big business in this world that don't +need so long a head as this one does--bein' as how you're goin' to +run it shipshape. You need brains; that you do, nephy. It'll keep +you studyin' all the time. When you git interested in it you ain't +never goin' to have time to be lonesome. There's the plain hello folks +to be treated one way, the good-day folks, the pass-the-time-o'-day +folks, the folks that need the tip o' the hat--jest for politeness, +and not because you're beneath 'em," he hastened to add, noting the +skipper's scowl; "the folks that swing up to the platform, the folks +that you've got to chase a little, even if it is muddy; the folks +that pay in advance and want you to remember it and save 'em trouble, +the folks that pay when they come back, and the folks that never pay +at all--and I tell ye, nephy, there's where your work is cut out for +ye! I've only had one arm, but there's mighty few that have ever done +me out of toll, and I'm goin' to give ye a tip on the old bell-wether +of 'em all. I'm goin' to advise ye to stand to one side and let him +pass. He's--" + +"And me a man that's licked every--" + +"Hold on! He's diff'runt from all you've ever tackled." + +In his excitement the old toll-gatherer attempted to struggle upon +his elbow. He choked. The nurse came and laid him back with gentle +remonstrance. Before he had regained his voice to talk more the +minister came, obeying a summons of grave import. Then came One who +sealed One-arm Jerry's lips and quieted the fingers that had been +picking at the faded coverlet as though they were gathering pennies. + +And a day later, half sullenly, the Cap'n accepted the proposition +of the directors of the bridge company, who had said some very +flattering things to him about the reliability of the Sproul family. +He reflected that he was far enough from tide-water to avoid the +mariners who had known him in his former state. "I'll dock and repair +riggin'," he pondered. "It's a come-down, but I'll clear and cruise +again when the notion strikes me." + +His possessions came promptly by express--his sea-chest, two parrots, +and a most amazing collection of curios that fairly transformed the +little cottage where the skipper, with seaman's facility in +housekeeping, set up bachelor's hall. + +He grudgingly allowed to himself that he was going to like it. The +sun beamed blandly warm on the little bench before the toll-house. +His rheumatism felt better. People commented admiringly on such of +the curios as were displayed in the windows of the cottage. And when +the parrots--"Port" and "Starboard"--ripped out such remarks as +"Ahoy!" "Heave to!" "Down hellum!" and larded the conversation with +horrible oaths, the wayfarers professed to see great humor in the +performance. + +In a little while the parrots would squall as soon as a traveller +appeared at the brow of the river hill or poked out from the dim depths +of the covered bridge. Even when the Cap'n was busy in his little +kitchen he never failed to receive due notice of the approach of +persons either in wagons or on foot. + +"It will be a good man who runs toll on this bridge," he mused one +day, as he poked dainties between the bars of the parrots' cages. +"The old 'un was a good man in his day, like all the Sprouls. He didn't +have but one arm, but there wa'n't many that ever come it over him. +I've been thinkin' about one that did, and that he was scart of. If +there was ever a man that scart him, and kept him scart till the day +he died, then I'd like to see that same. It will be for me to show +him that the nephy has some accounts of the poor old uncle to square." + +Up the slope where the road to Smyrna Bridge wound behind the willows +there was the growing rattle of wheels. The Cap'n cocked his head. +His seaman's instinct detected something stormy in that impetuous +approach. He fixed his gaze on the bend of the road. + +Into sight came tearing a tall, gaunt horse, dragging a wagon equally +tall and gaunt. The horse was galloping, and a tall man in the wagon +stood up and began to crack a great whip, with reports like a pistol +fusillade. + +Cap'n Sproul took three defiant steps into the middle of the road, +and then took one big step back--a stride that made his "rheumatiz +speak up," but a stride that carried him safely to his platform. The +team roared past. The big whip swished over his head, and the snapper +barked in his ear. He got one fleeting glimpse at the man who was +driving--a man with a face as hard as a pine knot. His lips were rolled +away from his yellow teeth in a grimace that was partly a grin, partly +a sneer. A queer, tall, pointed cap with a knob on its top was perched +on his head like a candle-snuffer on a taper. With a shrill yell and +more crackings of his whip he disappeared into the gloomy mouth of +the covered bridge, and the roaring echoes followed him. + +The skipper stood looking first at the mouth of the bridge and then +at the sign above it that warned: + + THREE DOLLARS' FINE + FOR DRIVING FASTER THAN A WALK + +"As I was jest sayin'," he muttered, as the noise of the wheels died +away, "I should like to see that man--and I reckon as how I have." + +He sat down under the woodbine that wreathed the little porch and +slowly filled his pipe, his gaze still on the bridge opening. As he +crooked his leg and dragged the match across the faded blue of his +trousers he growled: + +"I dunno who he is, nor where he's come from, nor where he's goin' +to, nor when he expects to get back, but, as near as I can figger +it, he owes me ten cents' toll and three dollars' fine-money, makin' +a total of three ten, to be charged and collected, as I understand +it." + +When he had got his pipe to going, after some little gruntings, he +pulled out a note-book and a stubby pencil and marked down the figures. +At the head of the page he scrawled: + + "Old Hurrycain, Dr." + +"That name 'll have to do till I git a better one," he mused, and +then stood up to receive toll from a farmer who drove slowly out from +the bridge, his elbows on his knees, his horse walking slouchily. + +"If it ain't no great output to you, mister, to tell, do you happen +to know who was the nub of that streak of wind and cuss-words that +jest went past here?" + +The farmer bored him strangely a moment with his little gimlet eyes, +snorted out a laugh, clapped his reins, and started on. + +"I heard ye was a joker!" he shouted back, his beard trailing over +his shoulder as he turned his head. + +"There ain't no joke to this!" roared the skipper. But the man kept +on. + +Another patron emerged from the bridge, digging from his trousers +pocket. + +"You spoke it, didn't ye?" demanded the skipper. "Chain lightnin' +on wheels. Who is he?" + +The man grinned amiably and appreciatively. + +"Quite a hand to hector, ain't ye, toll-keeper? He was goin' so fast +I didn't know him, neither." He drove on, though the Cap'n hobbled +after him, shouting strong language, in which the parrots joined. + +"You needn't try to make me think that there ain't nobody who don't +know the Kun'l," was the retort the man flung over his shoulder. + +"Nice and accommodatin' class of paternage that's passin'," growled +the Cap'n, kicking an inoffensive chair as he came back to his +platform. "They talk about him as though he was Lord Gull and ruler +of the stars. Jest as though a man that had sailed deep water all +his days knowed all the old land-pirut's 'round here!" + +It was a pedestrian--Old Man Jordan, bound to the village with a few +pats of butter in a bucket--that the skipper finally held up. + +"Oh, sho!" said Old Man Jordan. "'Course ye know him. Every one does." + +"I tell you I don't!" bawled the skipper. + +"Why, yas you do." + +"Say, look a-here, What's-your-name, I'm goin' to give ye ten seconds +to tell me the name of that critter." + +He made a clutch to one side, and then remembered with a flush that +he was no longer in reach of a spike-rack. + +"Why, that was Kun'l Gideon Ward," faltered Uncle Jordan, impressed +at last by the Cap'n's fury. "I thought ye knew." + +"Thought! Thought! Why, ye never thought in your life. You only +thought you thought. I dunno no more who you mean by 'Kun'l Gideon +Ward' than as though you said General Bill Beelzebub." + +"Why, yas you do--" + +"There you go again! Do you mean to stand here and tell me I'm a liar?" + +The glare in the seaman's eyes was too fierce to be fronted. + +"Kun'l Gideon Ward is--is--wall, he's Kun'l Gideon Ward." + +Jordan backed away suddenly at the oath the Cap'n ripped out. + +"He owns more timber land than any other man in the county. He hires +more men than any one else. He ain't never been downed in a trade +or a fight yet. He's got double teeth, upper and lower, all the way +round, drinks kairosene in the winter 'cause it's more warmin' than +rum, and--and--" + +"Well, what's that got to do with his runnin' toll on this bridge?" +demanded the Cap'n. + +"Bridge piers hold up his logs, he says, and he ain't never goin' +to pay toll till the bridgemen pay him for loss of time on logs. It's +been what you might call a stand-off for a good many years. Best thing +is to let him run toll. That's what your uncle thought. I reckoned +you knew all about Kun'l Gid Ward. Why, everybody knows--" + +"Say, you let up on that string right now and here," snorted the +Cap'n. + +Old Man Jordan trotted away. + +While the skipper was still pondering on the matter of Colonel +Ward--the meditation had lasted over into the next day--there was +a roar on the bridge, and the subject of his reflections passed in +a swirl of dust on his return trip. He was standing up in his wagon +as before, and he saluted the indignant toll-man with a flick of his +whip that started the dust from the latter's pea-jacket. + +"He's been over to the home place to see his sister Jane," volunteered +Uncle Jordan, again on his way to the village with eggs. "She ain't +never got married, and he ain't never got married. Old Squire Ward +left his whole property to the two of 'em, and the Kun'l ain't ever +let it be divided. He runs the whole estate and domineers over her, +and she don't dast to say her soul's her own. If I was Jane I'd have +my half out and git married to some nice man, and git a little comfort +out'n life. He don't give her none--don't let her have the handlin' +of a cent of money. She's a turrible nice sort of woman. There's +risin' a hundred thousand dollars in her share, if the truth was known, +and there's been some pretty good men shine up around her a little, +but the Kun'l has run 'em away with a picked stick." + +"Has, hey?" + +"There ain't no Jack the Giant-Killers in these parts," sighed Old +Man Jordan, hooking his bucket upon his arm and shambling away. + +For several days Cap'n Sproul was busy about the gable end of the +bridge during his spare moments and hours, climbing up and down the +ladder, and handling a rope and certain pulleys with sailor dexterity. +All the time his grim jaw-muscles ridged his cheeks. When he had +finished he had a rope running through pulleys from the big gate up +over the gable of the bridge and to the porch of the toll-house. + +"There," he muttered, with great satisfaction, "that's the first +bear-trap I ever set, and it ain't no extra sort of job, but I reckon +when old grizzly goes ag'inst it he'll cal'late that this 'ere is +a toll-bridge." + +Then came days of anxious waiting. Sometimes a teamster's shouts to +his horses up around the willows sent the Cap'n hobbling to the end +of the rope. An unusual rattling in the bridge put him at his post +with his teeth set and his eyes gleaming. + + + + +II + + +One day a mild and placid little woman in dove-gray came walking from +the bridge and handed over her penny. She eyed the skipper with +interest, and cocked her head with the pert demureness of a sparrow +while she studied the parrots who were waddling about their cages. + +"I never heard a parrot talk, sir," she said. "I hear that yours talk. +I should dearly love to hear them." + +"Their language is mostly deep-water flavor," said the Cap'n, curtly, +"and 'tain't flavored edsackly like vanilla ice-cream. There's more +of the peppersass tang to it than ladies us'ly enjoys." + +The little woman gave a chirrup at the birds, and, to the skipper's +utter astonishment, both Port and Starboard chirruped back sociably. +Port then remarked: "Pretty Polly!" Starboard chirruped a few cheery +bars from "A Sailor's Wife a Sailor's Star Should Be." Then both +parrots rapped their beaks genially against the bars of the cages +and beamed on the lady with their little button eyes. + +"Well, I swow!" ejaculated the Cap'n, rubbing his knurly forefinger +under his nose, and glancing first at the parrots and then at the +lady. "If that ain't as much of an astonisher as when the scuttle-butt +danced a jig on the dog-vane! Them two us'ly cusses strangers, no +matter what age or sect. They was learnt to do it." He gazed +doubtfully at the birds, as though they might possibly be +deteriorating in the effeminacies of shore life. + +"I always was a great hand with pets of all kinds," said the lady, +modestly. "Animals seem to take to me sort of naturally. I hear you +have long followed the sea, Cap'n Sproul--I believe that's the name, +Cap'n Sproul?" + +"Sproul it is, ma'am--Aaron for fore-riggin'. Them as said I follered +the sea was nearer than shore-folks us'ly be. Took my dunnage aboard +at fourteen, master at twenty-four, keel-hauled by rheumatiz at +fifty-six--wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that. I ain't stuck on +a penny-flippin' job of this sort." + +"I should think it would be very pleasant after all the storms and +the tossings. And yet the sea--the sea, the glorious sea--has always +had a great fascination for me--even though I've never seen it." + +"Nev--nev--never seen salt water!" This amazedly. + +"Never." This sadly. "I've been kept--I've stayed very closely at +my home. Being a single lady, I've had no one to talk to me or take +me about. I have read books about the ocean, but I've never had any +chance to hear a real and truly mariner tell about the wonderful waste +of waters and describe foreign countries. I suppose you have been +'way, 'way out to sea, Cap'n Sproul--across the ocean, I mean." + +She had timidly edged up and taken one of the chairs on the porch, +gazing about her at the curios. + +"Well, ma'am," remarked the Cap'n, dryly, as he seated himself in +another chair, "I've waded across a cove wunst or twice at low water." + +"I should love so to hear a mariner talk of his adventures. I have +never had much chance to talk with any man--I mean any sailor. I have +been kept--I mean I have stayed very closely at home all my life." + +"It broadens a man, it sartain does, to travel," said the skipper, +furtively slipping a sliver of tobacco into his cheek and clearing +his throat preparatory to yarning a bit. The frank admiration and +trustful innocence in the eyes of the pretty woman touched him. + +"I suppose you have been out at sea in some awful storms, Cap'n. I +often think of the sailormen at sea when the snow beats against the +window and the winds howl around the corner." + +"The wu'st blow I ever remember," began the skipper, leaning back +and hooking his brown hands behind his head like a basket, "was my +second trip to Bonis Airis--general cargo out, to fetch back hides. +It was that trip we found the shark that had starved to death, and +that was a story that was worth speakin' of. It--" + +There was a hoarse bellow of "Giddap!" up behind the willows. Then +into sight came galloping the tall, gaunt horse of Colonel Gideon +Ward. The Colonel stood up, smacking his whip. + +With one leap the Cap'n was at his rope, and began to haul in hand +over hand. + +The big gate at the mouth of the bridge squalled on its rusty hinges. + +"You mustn't shut that gate--you mustn't!" shrieked the little woman. +She ran and clutched at his sturdy arms. "That's my brother that's +coming! You'll break his neck!" + +The gate was already half shut, and the doughty skipper kept on +pulling at the rope. + +"Can't help it, ma'am, if it's the apostle Paul," he gritted. "There +ain't nobody goin' to run toll on this bridge." + +"It will kill him." + +"It's him that's lickin' that hoss. 'Tain't me." + +"It's my brother, I tell you!" She tried to drag the rope out of his +hands, but he shook her off, pulled the big gate shut, set his teeth, +clung to the rope, and waited. + +The rush down the hill had been so impetuous and the horse was now +running so madly under the whip that there was no such thing as +checking him. With a crash of splintering wood he drove breast-on +against the gate, throwing up his bony head at the end of his scraggy +neck. At the crash the woman screamed and covered her eyes. But the +outfit was too much of a catapult to be stopped. Through the gate +it went, and the wagon roared away through the bridge, the driver +yelling oaths behind him. + +Cap'n Aaron Sproul walked out and strolled among the scattered debris, +kicking it gloomily to right and left. The woman followed him. + +"It was awful," she half sobbed. + +"So you're Miss Jane Ward, be ye?" he growled, glancing at her from +under his knotted eyebrows. "Speakin' of your pets, I should reckon +that 'ere brother of yourn wa'n't one that you had tamed down fit +to be turned loose. But you tell him for me, the next time you see +him, that I'll plug the end of that bridge against him if it takes +ev'ry dum cent of the prop'ty I'm wuth--and that's thutty thousand +dollars, if it's a cent. I ain't none of your two-cent chaps!" he +roared, visiting his wrath vicariously on her as a representative +of the family. "I've got money of my own. Your brother seems to have +made door-mats out'n most of the folks round here, but I'll tell ye +that he's wiped his feet on me for the last time. You tell him that, +dum him!" + +Her face was white, and her eyes were shining as she looked at him. + +"Gideon has always had his own way, Cap'n Sproul," she faltered. "I +hope you won't feel too bitter against him. It would be awful--he +so headstrong--and you so--so--brave!" She choked this last out, +unclasping her hands. + +"Well, I ain't no coward, and I never was," blurted the Cap'n. + +"It's the bravest man that overcomes himself," she said. "Now, you +have good judgment, Cap'n. My brother is hot-headed. Every one knows +that you are a brave man. You can afford to let him go over the bridge +without--" + +"Never!" the skipper howled, in his best sea tones. "You're the last +woman to coax and beg for him, if half what they tell me is true. +He has abused you wuss'n he has any one else. If you and the rest +ain't got any spunk, I have. You'll be one brother out if he comes +slam-bangin' this way ag'in." + +She looked at him appealingly for a moment, then tiptoed over the +fragments of the gate, and hurried away through the bridge. + +"You ain't no iron-clad, Kun'l Ward," muttered Sproul. "I'll hold +ye next time." + +He set to work on the river-bank that afternoon, cutting saplings, +trusting to the squall of the faithful parrots to signal the approach +of passers. + +But the next day, when he was nailing the saplings to make a truly +Brobdingnagian grid, one of the directors of the bridge company +appeared to him. + +"We're not giving you license to let any one run toll on this bridge, +you understand," said the director, "but this fighting Colonel Ward +with our property is another matter. It's like fighting a bear with +your fists. And even if you killed the bear, the hide wouldn't be +worth the damage. He has got too many ways of hurting us, Cap'n. He +has always had his own way in these parts, and he probably always +will. Let him go. We won't get the toll, nor the fines, but we'll +have our bridge left." + +"I was thinking of resigning this job," returned the Cap'n; "it was +not stirrin' enough for a seafarin' man; but I'm sort of gittin' +int'rested. How much will ye take for your bridge?" + +But the director curtly refused to sell. + +"All right, then," said the skipper, chocking his axe viciously into +a sapling birch and leaving it there, "I'll fill away on another +tack." + +For the next two weeks, as though to exult in his victory, the Colonel +made many trips past the toll-house. + +He hurled much violent language at the Cap'n. The Cap'n, reinforced +with his vociferous parrots, returned the language with great +enthusiasm and volubility. + +Then came the day once more when the little woman sat down in a chair +in the shade of the woodbine. + +"I took the first chance, Cap'n, while my brother has gone up-country, +to come to tell you how much I appreciate your generous way of doing +what I asked of you. You are the first man that ever put away selfish +pride and did just what I asked." + +The seaman started to repudiate vigorously, but looked into her +brimming eyes a moment, choked, and was silent. + +"Yes, sir, you're what I call noble, not to pay any attention to the +boasts my brother is making of how he has backed you down." + +"He is, is he?" The Cap'n rolled up his lip and growled. + +"But I know just how brave you are, to put down all your anger at +the word of a poor woman. And a true gentleman, too. There are only +a few real gentlemen in the world, after all." + +The Cap'n slid his thumb into the armhole of his waistcoat and swelled +his chest out a little. + +"There was no man ever come it over me, and some good ones have tried +it, ma'am. So fur as women goes, I ain't never been married, but I +reckon I know what politeness to a lady means." + +She smiled at him brightly, and with such earnest admiration that +he felt a flush crawling up from under his collar. He blinked at her +and looked away. Starboard, with an embarrassing aptness that is +sometimes displayed by children, whistled a few bars of "A Sailor's +Wife a Sailor's Star Should Be." + +"I don't mind owning up to you that my brother has imposed upon me +in a great many ways," said the little lady, her eyes flashing. "I +have endured a good deal from him because he is my brother. I know +just how you feel about him, Cap'n, and that's why it makes me feel +that we have a--a sort of what you might call common interest. I don't +know why I'm talking so frankly with you, who are almost a stranger, +but I've been--I have always lacked friends so much, that now I can't +seem to help it. You truly do seem like an old friend, you have been +so willing to do what I asked of you, after you had time to think +it over." + +The Cap'n was now congratulating himself that he hadn't blurted out +anything about the bridge director and that sapling fence. It +certainly was a grateful sound--that praise from the pretty lady! +He didn't want to interrupt it. + +"Now will you go on with that story of the storm?" she begged, +hitching the chair a bit nearer. "I want to hear about your +adventures." + +She had all the instincts of Desdemona, did that pretty little lady. +Three times that week she came to the toll-house and listened with +lips apart and eyes shining. Cap'n Sproul had never heard of Othello +and his wooing, but after a time his heart began to glow under the +reverent regard she bent on him. Never did mutual selection more +naturally come about. She loved him for the perils he had braved, +and he--robbed of his mistress, the sea--yearned for just such +companionship as she was giving him. He had known that life lacked +something. This was it. + +And when one day, after a stuttering preamble that lasted a full half +hour, he finally blurted out his heart-hankering, she wept a little +while on his shoulder--it being luckily a time when there was no one +passing--and then sobbingly declared it could never be. + +"'Fraid of your brother, hey?" he inquired. + +She bumped her forehead gently on his shoulder in nod of assent. + +"I reckon ye like me?" + +"Oh, Aaron!" It was a volume of rebuke, appeal, and affection in two +words. + +"Then there ain't nothin' more to say, little woman. You ain't never +had any one to look out for your int'rests in this life. After this, +it's me that does it. I don't want your money. I've got plenty of +my own. But your interests bein' my interests after this, you hand +ev'rything over to me, and I'll put a twist in the tail of that Bengal +tiger in your fam'ly that 'll last him all his life." + +At the end of a long talk he sent her away with a pat on her shoulder +and a cheery word in her ear. + +It was Old Man Jordan who, a week or so later, on his way to the village +with butter in his bucket, stood in the middle of the road and tossed +his arms so frenziedly that Colonel Ward, gathering up his speed +behind the willows, pulled up with an oath. + +"Ye're jest gittin' back from up-country, ain't ye?" asked Uncle +Jordan. + +"What do you mean, you old fool, by stoppin' me when I'm busy? What +be ye, gittin' items for newspapers?" + +"No, Kun'l Ward, but I've got some news that I thought ye might like +to hear before ye went past the toll-house this time. Intentions +between Cap'n Aaron Sproul and Miss Jane Ward has been published." + +"Wha-a-at!" + +"They were married yistiddy." + +"Wha--" The cry broke into inarticulateness. + +"The Cap'n ain't goin' to be toll-man after to-day. Says he's goin' +to live on the home place with his wife. There!" Uncle Jordan stepped +to one side just in time, for the gaunt horse sprung under the lash +as though he had the wings of Pegasus. + +The Cap'n was sitting in front of the toll-house. The tall horse +galloped down the hill, but the Colonel stood up, and, with elbows +akimbo and hands under his chin, yanked the animal to a standstill, +his splay feet skating through the highway dust. The Colonel leaped +over the wheel and reversed his heavy whip-butt. The Cap'n stood up, +gripping a stout cudgel that he had been whittling at for many hours. + +While the new arrival was choking with an awful word that he was +trying his best to work out of his throat, the Cap'n pulled his little +note-book out of his pocket and slowly drawled: + +"I reckoned as how ye might find time to stop some day, and I've got +your account all figgered. You owe thirteen tolls at ten cents each, +one thutty, and thirteen times three dollars fine--the whole +amountin' to jest forty dollars and thutty cents. Then there's a gate +to--" + +"I'm goin' to kill you right in your tracks where you stand!" bellowed +the Colonel. + +The Cap'n didn't wait for the attack. He leaped down off his porch, +and advanced with the fierce intrepidity of a sea tyrant. + +"You'll pay that toll bill," he gritted, "if I have to pick it out +of your pockets whilst the coroner is settin' on your remains." + +The bully of the countryside quailed. + +"You've stole my sister!" he screamed. "This ain't about toll I'm +talkin'. You've been and robbed me of my sister!" + +"Do you want to hear a word on that?" demanded the Cap'n, grimly. +He came close up, whirling the cudgel. "You're an old, cheap, +ploughed-land blowhard, that's what you are! You've cuffed 'round +hired men and abused weak wimmen-folks. I knowed you was a coward +when I got that line on ye. You don't dast to stand up to a man like +me. I'll split your head for a cent." He kept advancing step by step, +his mien absolutely demoniac. "I've married your sister because she +wanted me. Now I'm goin' to take care of her. I've got thutty thousand +dollars of my own, and she's giv' me power of attorney over hers. +I'll take every cent of what belongs to her out of your business, +and I know enough of the way that your business is tied up to know +that I can crowd you right to the wall. Now do ye want to fight?" + +The tyrant's face grew sickly white, for he realized all that threat +meant. + +"But there ain't no need of a fight in the fam'ly--and I want you +to understand that I'm a pretty dum big part of the fam'ly after this. +Be ye ready to listen to reason?" + +"You're a robber!" gasped the Colonel, trying again to muster his +anger. + +"I've got a proposition to make so that there won't be no pull-haulin' +and lawyers to pay, and all that." + +"What is it?" + +"Pardnership between you and me--equal pardners. I've been lookin' +for jest this chance to go into business." + +The Colonel leaped up, and began to stamp round his wagon. + +"No, sir," he howled at each stamp. "I'll go to the poor-farm first." + +"Shouldn't wonder if I could put you there," calmly rejoined the +Cap'n. "These forced lickidations to settle estates is something +awful when the books ain't been kept any better'n yours. I shouldn't +be a mite surprised to find that the law would get a nab on you for +cheatin' your poor sister." + +Again the Colonel's face grew white. + +"All is," continued the Cap'n, patronizingly, "if we can keep it all +in the fam'ly, nice and quiet, you ain't goin' to git showed up. Now, +I ain't goin' to listen to no more abuse out of you. I'll give you +jest one minute to decide. Look me in the eye. I mean business." + +"You've got me where I'll have to," wailed the Colonel. + +"Is it pardnership?" + +"Yas!" He barked the word. + +"Now, Colonel Ward, there's only one way for you and me to do bus'ness +the rest of our lives, and that's on the square, cent for cent. We +might as well settle that p'int now. Fix up that toll bill, or it's +all off. I won't go into business with a man that don't pay his honest +debts." + +He came forward with his hand out. + +The Colonel paid. + +"Now," said the Cap'n, "seein' that the new man is here, ready to +take holt, and the books are all square, I'll ride home with you. +I've been callin' it home now for a couple of days." + +The new man at the toll-house heard the Cap'n talking serenely as +they drove away. + +"I didn't have any idee, Colonel, I was goin' to like it so well on +shore as I do. Of course, you meet some pleasant and some unpleasant +people, but that sister of yours is sartinly the finest woman that +ever trod shoe-leather, and it was Providunce a-speakin' to me when +she--" + +The team passed away into the gloomy mouth of the Smyrna bridge. + + + + +III + + +Once on a time when the Wixon boy put Paris-green in the Trufants' +well, because the oldest Trufant girl had given him the mitten, Marm +Gossip gabbled in Smyrna until flecks of foam gathered in the corners +of her mouth. + +But when Cap'n Aaron Sproul, late of the deep sea, so promptly, so +masterfully married Col. Gideon Ward's sister--after the irascible +Colonel had driven every other suitor away from that patient +lady--and then gave the Colonel his "everlasting comeuppance," and +settled down in Smyrna as boss of the Ward household, that event +nearly wore Gossip's tongue into ribbons. + +"I see'd it from a distance--the part that happened in front of the +toll-house," said Old Man Jordan. "Now, all of ye know that Kun'l +Gid most gin'ly cal'lates to eat up folks that says 'Boo' to him, +and pick his teeth with slivers of their bones. But talk about your +r'yal Peeruvian ragin' lions--of wherever they come from--why, that +Cap'n Sproul could back a 'Rabian caterwouser right off'm +Caterwouser Township! I couldn't hear what was said, but I see Kun'l +Gid, hoss-gad and all, backed right up into his own wagon; and Cap'n +Sproul got in, and took the reins away from him as if he'd been a +pindlin' ten-year-old, and drove off toward the Ward home place. And +that Cap'n don't seem savage, nuther." + +"Wal, near's I can find out," said Odbar Broadway from behind his +counter, where he was counting eggs out of Old Man Jordan's bucket, +"the Cap'n had a club in one hand and power of attorney from Kun'l +Gid's sister in the other--and a threat to divide the Ward estate. +The way Gid's bus'ness is tied up jest at present would put a knot +into the tail of 'most any kind of a temper." + +"I'm told the Cap'n is makin' her a turrible nice husband," observed +one of the store loungers. + +Broadway folded his specs into their case and came from behind the +counter. + +"Bein' a bus'ness man myself," he said, "I come pretty nigh knowin' +what I'm talkin' about. Kun'l Gid Ward can never flout and jeer that +the man that has married his sister was nothin' but a prop'ty-hunter. +I'm knowin' to it that Cap'n Sproul has got thutty thousand in vessel +prop'ty of his own, 'sides what his own uncle Jerry here left to him. +Gid Ward has trompled round this town for twenty-five years, and +bossed and browbeat and cussed, and got the best end of every trade. +If there's some one come along that can put the wickin' to him in +good shape, I swow if this town don't owe him a vote of thanks." + +"There's a movement on already to ask Cap'n Sproul to take the office +of first s'lec'man at the March meetin'," said one of the loafers. + +"I sha'n't begretch him one mite of his popularity," vowed the +storekeeper. "Any man that can put Kun'l Gid Ward where he belongs +is a better thing for the town than a new meetin'-house would be." + +But during all this flurry of gossip Cap'n Aaron Sproul spent his +bland and blissful days up under the shade of the big maple in the +Ward dooryard, smoking his pipe, and gazing out over the expanse of +meadow and woodland stretching away to the horizon. + +Most of the time his wife was at his elbow, peering with a species +of adoration into his browned countenance as he related his tales +of the sea. She constantly carried a little blank-book, its ribbon +looped about her neck, and made copious entries as he talked. She +had conceived the fond ambition of writing the story of his life. +On the cover was inscribed, in her best hand: + + FROM SHORE TO SHORE + + LINES FROM A MARINER'S ADVENTURES + + _The Life Story of the Gallant Captain Aaron Sproul_ + + _Written by His Affectionate Wife_ + +"I reckon that Providunce put her finger on my compass when I steered +this way. Louada Murilla," said the Cap'n one day, pausing to relight +his pipe. + +He had insisted on renaming his wife "Louada Murilla," and she had +patiently accepted the new name with the resignation of her patient +nature. But the name pleased her after her beloved lord had +explained. + +"I was saving that name for the handsomest clipper-ship that money +could build," he said. "But when I married you, little woman, I got +something better than a clipper-ship; and when you know sailorman's +natur' better, you'll know what that compliment means. Yes, +Providunce sent me here," continued the Cap'n, poking down his +tobacco with broad thumb. "There I was, swashin' from Hackenny to +t'other place, livin' on lobscouse and hoss-meat; and here you was, +pinin' away for some one to love you and to talk to you about something +sensibler than dropped stitches and croshayed lamp-mats. Near's I +can find out about your 'sociates round here, you would have got more +real sense out of talkin' with Port and Starboard up there," he added, +pointing to his pet parrots, which had followed him in his wanderings. +"We was both of us hankerin' for a companion--I mean a married +companion. And I reckon that two more suiteder persons never started +down the shady side--holt of hands, hey?" + +He caught her hands and pulled her near him, and she bent down and +kissed his weather-beaten forehead. + +At that instant Col. Gideon Ward came clattering into the yard in +his tall wagon. He glared at this scene of conjugal affection, and +then lashed his horse savagely and disappeared in the direction of +the barn. + +"I read once about a skelington at a feast that rattled his dry bones +every time folks there started in to enjoy themselves," said the +Cap'n, after he watched the scowling Colonel out of sight. "For the +last two weeks, Louada Murilla, it don't seem as if I've smacked you +or you've smacked me but when I've jibed my head I've seen that ga'nt +brother-in-law o' mine standing off to one side sourer'n a home-made +cucumber pickle." + +"It's aggravatin' for you, I know it is," she faltered. "But I've +been thinkin' that perhaps he'd get more reconciled as the time goes +on." + +"Reconciled?" snapped the Cap'n, a little of the pepper in his nature +coming to the surface. "If it was any one but you little woman, that +talked about me as though I was death or an amputated leg in this +family, I'd get hot under the collar. But I tell ye, we ain't got +many years left to love each other in. We started pritty late. We +can't afford to waste any time. And we can't afford to have the edge +taken off by that Chinese image standin' around and makin' faces. +I've been thinkin' of tellin' him so. But the trouble is with me that +when I git to arguin' with a man I'm apt to forgit that I ain't on +shipboard and talkin' to a tar-heel." + +He surveyed his brown fists with a certain apprehensiveness, as +though they were dangerous parties over whom he had no control. + +"I should dretfully hate to have anything come up between you and +Gideon, Cap'n," she faltered, a frightened look in her brown eyes. +"It wouldn't settle anything to have trouble. But you've been about +so much and seen human nature so much that it seems as though you +could handle him different than with--with--" + +"Poundin' him, eh?" Smiles broke over the skipper's face. "See how +I'm softened, little woman!" he cried. "Time was when I would have +chased a man that made faces at me as he done just now, and I'd have +pegged him into the ground. But love has done a lot for me in makin' +me decent. If I keep on, I'll forgit I've got two fists--and that's +something for a shipmaster to say, now, I'll tell ye! A man has got +to git into love himself to know how it feels." + +Sudden reflection illuminated his face. + +"Ain't old pickalilly--that brother of yourn--ever been in love?" +he asked. + +"Why--why," she stammered, "he's been in--well, sometimes now I +think perhaps it ain't love, knowin' what I do now--but he's been +engaged to Pharlina Pike goin' on fifteen years. And he's been +showin' her attentions longer'n that. But since I've met you and +found out how folks don't usually wait so long if they--they're in +love--well, I've--" + +"Fifteen years!" he snorted. "What is he waitin' for--for her to grow +up?" + +"Land sakes, no! She's about as old as he is. She's old Seth Pike's +daughter, and since Seth died she has run the Pike farm with hired +help, and has done real well at it. Long engagements ain't thought +strange of 'round here. Why, there's--" + +"Fifteen years!" he repeated. "That's longer'n old Methus'lum +courted." + +"But Gideon has been so busy and away from home so much in the woods, +and Pharlina ain't been in no great pucker, seein' that the farm was +gettin' on well, and--" + +"There ain't no excuse for him," broke in the Cap'n, with vigor. He +was greatly interested in this new discovery. His eyes gleamed. +"'Tain't usin' her right. She can't step up to him and set the day. +'Tain't woman's sp'ere, that ain't. I didn't ask you to set the day. +I set it myself. I told you to be ready." + +Her cheek flushed prettily at the remembrance of that impetuous +courtship, when even her dread of her ogre brother had been overborne +by the Cap'n's masterful manner, once she had confessed her love. + +"I know what love is myself," went on the Cap'n. "He don't know; +that's what the trouble is with him. He ain't been waked up. Let him +be waked up good and plenty, and he won't be standin' around makin' +faces at us. I see what's got to be done to make a happy home of this. +You leave it to me." + +They saw the Colonel stamping in their direction from the barn. + +"You run into the house, Louada Murilla," directed the Cap'n, "and +leave me have a word with him." + +The Colonel was evidently as anxious as the Cap'n for a word. + +"Say, Sproul," he gritted, as he came under the tree, "I've got an +offer for the stumpage on township number eight. Seein' that you're +in equal partners with me on my sister's money," he sneered, "I reckon +I've got to give ye figures and prices, and ask for a permit to run +my own business." + +"Seems 'most as if you don't enj'y talkin' business with me," +observed the Cap'n, with a meek wistfulness that was peculiarly +aggravating to his grouchy partner. + +"I'd about as soon eat pizen!" stormed the other. + +"Then let's not do it jest now," the Cap'n returned, sweetly. "I've +got something more important to talk about than stumpage. Money and +business ain't much in this world, after all, when you come to know +there's something diff'runt. Love is what I'm referrin' to. Word has +jest come to me that you're in love, too, the same as I am." + +The gaunt Colonel glared malevolently down on the sturdy figure +sprawling in the garden chair. The Cap'n's pipe clouds curled about +his head, and his hands were stuffed comfortably into his trousers +pockets. His face beamed. + +"Some might think to hear you talk that you was a soft old fool that +had gone love-cracked 'cause a woman jest as soft as you be has showed +you some attention," choked the Colonel. "But I know what you're +hidin' under your innocent-Abigail style. I know you're a +jill-poke." + +"A what?" blandly asked Sproul. + +"That's woods talk for the log that makes the most trouble on the +drive--and it's a mighty ornery word." + +"Er--something like 'the stabboard pi-oogle,' which same is a +seafarin' term, and is worse," replied the Cap'n, with bland interest +in this philological comparison. "But let's not git strayed off'm +the subject. Your sister, Louada Murilla--" + +The gaunt man clacked his bony fists together in ecstasy of rage. + +"She was christened Sarah Jane, and that's her name. Don't ye insult +the father and mother that gave it to her by tackin' on another. I've +told ye so once; I tell ye so--" + +"Louada Murilla," went on the Cap'n, taking his huge fists out of +his pockets and cocking them on his knees, not belligerently, but +in a mildly precautionary way, "told me that you had been engaged +to a woman named Phar--Phar--" + +"Oh, give her any name to suit ye!" snarled the Colonel. "That's what +ye're doin' with wimmen round here." + +"You know who I mean," pursued Sproul, complacently, "seein' that +you've had fifteen years to study on her name. Now, bein' as I'm one +of the fam'ly, I'm going to ask you what ye're lally-gaggin' along +for? Wimmen don't like to be on the chips so long. I am speakin' to +you like a man and a brother when I say that married life is what +the poet says it is. It's--" + +"I've stood a good deal from you up to now!" roared Ward, coming close +and leaning over threateningly. "You come here to town with so much +tar on ye that your feet stuck every time you stood still in one place; +you married my sister like you'd ketch a woodchuck; you've stuck your +fingers into my business in her name--but that's jest about as fur +as you can go with me. There was only one man ever tried to advise +me about gitting married--and he's still a cripple. There was no man +ever tried to recite love poetry to me. You take fair warnin'." + +"Then you ain't willin' to listen to my experience, considerin' that +I've been a worse hard-shell than you ever was in marriage matters, +and now see the errors of my ways?" The Cap'n was blinking up +wistfully. + +"It means that I take ye by your heels and snap your head off," rasped +Ward, tucking his sleeves away from his corded wrists. "You ain't +got your club with you this time." + +The Cap'n sighed resignedly. + +"Now," went on the Colonel, with the vigorous decision of a man who +feels that he has got the ascendency, "you talk about something that +amounts to something. That stumpage on number eight is mostly cedar +and hackmatack, and I've got an offer from the folks that want +sleepers for the railroad extension." + +He went on with facts and figures, but the Cap'n listened with only +languid interest. He kept sighing and wrinkling his brows, as though +in deep rumination on a matter far removed from the stumpage question. +When the agreement of sale was laid before him he signed with a +blunted lead-pencil, still in his trance. + +"Northin' but a cross-cut saw with two axe-handles for legs," he said +to himself, his eyes on the Colonel's back as that individual stamped +wrathfully away. "Teeth and edge are hard as iron! It's no good to +talk mattermony to him. Prob'ly it wouldn't do no good for me to talk +mattermony to Phar--Phar--to t'other one. She couldn't ask him to +go git a minister. 'Tain't right to put that much onto a woman's +shoulders. The trouble with him is that he's too sure of wimmen. Had +his sister under his thumb all them years, and thought less and less +of her for stayin' there. He's too sure of t'other. Thinks nobody +else wants her. Thinks all he's got to do is step round and git her +some day. Ain't got no high idee of wimmen like I have. Thinks they +ought to wait patient as a tree in a wood-lot. Has had things too +much his own way, I say. Hain't never had his lesson. Thinks nobody +else don't want her, hey? And she can wait his motions! He needs his +lesson. Lemme see!" + +With his knurly forefinger at his puckered forehead he sat and +pondered. + +He was very silent at supper. + +The Colonel, still exulting in his apparent victory, said many +sneering and savage things, and clattered his knife truculently on +his plate. Sproul merely looked at him with that wistful +preoccupation that still marked his countenance. + +"He's a quitter," pondered the Colonel. "I reckon he ain't playin' +lamb so's to tole me on. He's growed soft--that's what he's done." + +Ward went to sleep that night planning retaliation. + +Sproul stayed awake when the house was quiet, still pondering. + + + + +IV + + +During the next few days, as one treads farther and farther out upon +thin ice to test it, the Colonel craftily set about regaining, +inch by inch, his lost throne as tyrant. Occasionally he checked +himself in some alarm, to wonder what meant that ridging of the +Cap'n's jaw-muscles, and whether he really heard the seaman's teeth +gritting. Once, when he recoiled before an unusually demoniac glare +from Sproul, the latter whined, after a violent inward struggle: + +"It beats all how my rheumaticks has been talkin' up lately. I don't +seem to have no ginger nor spirit left in me. I reckon I got away +from the sea jest in time. I wouldn't even dare to order a nigger +to swab decks, the way I'm feelin' now." + +"You've allus made a good deal of talk about how many men you've +handled in your day," said the Colonel, tucking a thumb under his +suspender and leaning back with supercilious cock of his gray +eyebrows. "It's bein' hinted round town here more or less that you're +northin' but bluff. I don't realize, come to think it over, how I +ever come to let you git such a holt in my fam'ly. I--" + +The two were sitting, as was their custom in those days of the +Colonel's espionage, under the big maple in the yard. A man who was +passing in the highway paused and leaned on the fence. + +"Can one of you gents tell me," he asked, "where such a lady as Miss +Phar"--he consulted a folded paper that he held in his +hand--"Pharleena Pike lives about here?" + +He was an elderly man with a swollen nose, striated with purple veins. +Under his arm he carried a bundle done up in meat-paper. + +There was a queer glint of excitement in the eyes of the Cap'n. But +he did not speak. He referred the matter to Ward with a jab of his +thumb. + +"What do you want to know where Miss Pike lives for?" demanded the +Colonel, looking the stranger over with great disfavor. + +"None of your business," replied the man of the swollen nose, +promptly. "I've asked a gent's question of one I took to be a gent, +and I'd like a gent's reply." + +"You see," said Cap'n Sproul to the stranger, with a confidential +air, as though he were proposing to impart the secret of the Colonel's +acerbity, "Colonel Ward here is--" + +"You go 'long two miles, swing at the drab school-house, and go to +the second white house on the left-hand side of the road!" shouted +Ward, hastily breaking in on the explanation. His thin cheeks flushed +angrily. The man shuffled on. + +"Why don't you print it on a play-card that I'm engaged to Pharlina +Pike and hang it on the fence there?" the Colonel snorted, wrathfully, +whirling on the Cap'n. "Didn't it ever occur to you that some things +in this world ain't none of your business?" + +The Cap'n sighed with the resigned air that he had been displaying +during the week past. + +"Lemme see, where was I?" went on the Colonel, surlily. "I was sayin', +wasn't I, that I didn't see how I'd let you stick yourself into this +fam'ly as you've done? It's time now for you and me to git to a +reck'nin'. There's blamed liars round here snick'rin' in their +whiskers, and sayin' that you've backed me down. Now--" + +Another man was at the fence, and interrupted with aggravating +disregard of the Colonel's intentness on the business in hand. This +stranger was short and squat, stood with his feet braced wide apart, +and had a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. His broad face wore +a cheery smile. + +"I've beat nor'west from the railroad, fetched a covered bridge on +the port quarter, shipmates," he roared, jovially, "and here I be, +bearin's lost and dead-reck'nin' skow-wowed." + +"Seems to be your breed," sneered Ward to the Cap'n. "What's that +he's sayin', put in human language?" + +"I'm chartered for port--port"--he also referred to a folded +paper--"to port Furliny Pike, som'eres in this latitude. Give me +p'ints o' compass, will ye?" + +Ward leaped to his feet and strode toward the fence, his long legs +working like calipers. + +"What do ye want of Pharline Pike?" he demanded, angrily. + +"None of your business," replied the cheerful sailor. "If this is +the way landlubbers take an honest man's hail, ye're all jest as bad +as I've heard ye was." + +"I'm a mind to cuff your ears," yapped the Colonel. + +The other glanced up the angular height of his antagonist. + +"Try it," he said, squaring his sturdy little figure. "Try it, and +I'll climb your main riggin' and dance a jig on that dog-vane of a +head of yourn." + +This alacrity for combat clearly backed down Ward. In his rampageous +life his tongue had usually served him better than his fists. + +"Avast, shipmate!" called the Cap'n, in his best sea tones. The +sailor beamed delighted recognition of marine masonry. "The fact of +the matter is, my friend here has some claim--the truth is, he's--" + +"You go 'long two miles, swing at the drab school-house, and then +take the second house--white one--on the left-hand side of the road," +bawled Ward, "and you go mighty quick!" + +The sailor ducked acknowledgment and rolled away. + +"If you'd unpinned that mouth of yourn fur enough to tell that tramp +that I'm engaged to Pharline Pike," growled Ward, returning to the +tree, "I'd 'a' broke in your head--and you might as well know it first +as last." + +"Ain't you engaged to her?" + +"You know I be." + +"Well, I've allus told the truth all my life--and I reckon I shall +continner to tell it. If you're ashamed to have it knowed that you're +engaged to Pharlina Pike, then it's time she heard so. I'd jest as +soon tell her as not." + +"I started to say to you," raged Ward, "that you'd stuck your finger +into my pie altogether too deep. I ain't killed as many sailors as +you're braggin' on, but there ain't no man ever licked Gid Ward, +and--" + +"Near's I can tell from what I hear about you," retorted the Cap'n, +"built on racin' lines as you be, you've never let a man git near +enough to lick ye." + +Again the Colonel noted that red vengefulness in the skipper's eyes, +and recoiled suspiciously. + +"Oh, my rheumaticks!" the seaman hastened to moan. + +Ward had his back to the fence. + +"I cal'late as how there's another party that wants his bearin's," +suggested Sproul. + +A rather decayed-looking gentleman, wearing a frock-coat shiny at +the elbows, and a fuzzy plug-hat, was tapping his cane against one +of the pickets to attract attention. + +"I am looking for the residence of Miss Pharlina Pike," he announced, +with a precise puckering of his lips. "I'll thank you for a word of +direction. But I want to say, as a lowly follower of the Lord--in +evangelical lines--that it is not seemly for two men to quarrel in +public." + +Ward had been gaping at him in amazement. + +"I can tell ye right now," he cried, "that Miss Pharline Pike ain't +hirin' no farm-hand that wears a plug-hat! There ain't no need of +your goin' to her place." + +"My dear sir," smiled the decayed gentleman, "it is a delicate matter +not to be canvassed in public; but I can assure you that I shall not +remain with Miss Pike as a menial or a bond-servant. Oh no! Not by +any means, sir!" + +Ward scruffed his hand over his forehead, blinking with puzzled +astonishment. + +"I'll thank you for the directions," said the stranger. "They were +not able to give me exact instructions at the village--at least, I +cannot remember them." + +"I ain't no dadfired guide-board to stand here all day and p'int the +way to Pharline Pike's," roared Ward, with a heat that astonished +the decayed gentleman. + +"I don't want no elder to go away from this place and report that +he wa'n't used respectful," said Sproul, meekly, addressing the +stranger. "You'll have to excuse Colonel Ward here. P'r'aps I can +say for him, as a pertickler friend, what it wouldn't be modest for +him to say himself. The fact is, he's en--" + +The infuriated Ward leaped up and down on the sward and shrieked the +road instructions to the wayfarer, who hustled away, casting +apprehensive glances over his shoulder. + +But when the Colonel turned again on the Cap'n, the latter rose and +hobbled with extravagant limpings toward the house. + +"I don't reckon I can stay out here and pass talk with you, +brother-in-law," he called back, reproachfully. "Strangers, passin' +as they be, don't like to hear no such language as you're usin'. Jest +think of what that elder said!" + +Ward planted himself upon a garden chair, and gazed down the road +in the direction in which the strangers had gone. He seemed to be +thinking deeply, and the Cap'n watched him from behind one of the +front-room curtains. + +Two more men passed up the road. At the first, the Colonel flourished +his arms and indulged in violent language, the gist of which the Cap'n +did not catch. He ran to the fence when the second accosted him, tore +off a picket, and flung it after the fleeing man. + +Then he sat down and pondered more deeply still. + +He cast occasional glances toward the house, and once or twice arose +as though to come in. But he sat down and continued to gaze in the +direction of Pharlina Pike's house. + +It was late in the afternoon when a woman came hurrying down the slope +through the maple-sugar grove. The Cap'n, at his curtain with his +keen sea eye, saw her first. He had been expecting her arrival. He +knew her in the distance for Pharlina Pike, and realized that she +had come hot-foot across lots. + +Sproul was under the big maple as soon as she. + +"For mercy sakes, Colonel Gid," she gasped, "come over to my house +as quick's you can!" + +She had come up behind him, and he leaped out of his chair with a +snap like a jack-in-the-box. + +"There's somethin' on, and I knowed it!" he squalled. "What be them +men peradin' past here to your house for, and tellin' me it ain't +none of my business? You jest tell me, Pharline Pike, what you mean +by triflin' in this way?" + +"Lord knows what it's all about! I don't!" she quavered. + +"You do know, too!" he yelled. "Don't ye try to pull wool over my +eyes! You do know, too!" + +"It's a turrible thing to be jealous," cooed Cap'n Sproul to his +trembling little wife, who had followed at his heels. + +"I don't know, either," wailed the spinster. "There's one of 'em in +the settin'-room balancin' a plug-hat on his knees and sayin', 'Lo! +the bridegroom cometh'; and there's two on the front steps kickin' +the dog ev'ry time he comes at 'em; and there's one in the kitchen +that smells o' tar, and has got a bagful of shells and sech things +for presents to me; there's one in the barn lookin' over the +stock--and I s'pose they're comin' down the chimbly and up the suller +stairs by this time. You're the only one I've got in the world to +depend on, Colonel Gid. For mercy sakes, come!" + +"What do they say--what's their excuse?" he demanded, suspiciously. + +"They say--they say," she wailed--"they say they want to marry me, +but I don't know what they've all come hov'rin' round me for--honest +to Moses I don't!" She folded her hands in her apron and wrung them. +"I'm pretty nigh scart to death of 'em," she sobbed. + +"I reckon you can give 'em an earful when you git down there," said +the Cap'n, "when you tell 'em that you've been engaged to her for +fifteen years. But it ain't none surprisin' that men that hear of +that engagement should most natch'ally conclude that a woman would +like to git married after a while. I cal'late ye see now, +brother-in-law, that you ain't the only man that appreciates what +a good woman Miss Pharlina Pike is." + +"You come along, Pharline," said the Colonel, taking her arm, after +he had bored the Cap'n for a moment with flaming eye. "I reckon I +can pertect ye from all the tramps ever let loose out of +jails--and--and when I git to the bottom of this I predict there'll +be bloodshed--there'll be bones broke, anyway." With one more +malevolent look at the Cap'n he started away. + +"It's only a short cut through the maple growth, Louada Murilla," +said Sproul. "My rheumaticks is a good deal better of a sudden. Let's +you and me go along." + +As they trudged he saw farmers at a distance here and there, and +called to them to follow. + +"Look here, I don't need no bee!" howled the Colonel. "This ain't +nothing to spread broadcast in this community." + +"Never can tell what's li'ble to happen," retorted Sproul. +"Witnesses don't never hurt cases like this." + +He continued to call the farmers, despite Ward's objurgations. +Farmers called their wives. All followed behind the engaged couple. +As usually happens in country communities, word had gone abroad in +other directions that there were strange doings at the Pike place. +With huge satisfaction the Cap'n noted that the yard was packed with +spectators. + +"Where be ye?" bellowed Colonel Ward, now in a frenzy. "Where be ye, +ye scalawags that are round tryin' to hector a respectable woman that +wouldn't wipe her feet on ye? Come out here and talk to me!" + +The neighbors fell back, recognizing his authority in the matter; +and the men who were suing this modern Penelope appeared from various +parts of the premises. + +"I desire to say, as a clergyman along evangelical lines, and not +a settled pastor," said the man in the fuzzy plug-hat, "that I do +not approve of this person's violent language. I have seen him once +before to-day, and he appeared singularly vulgar and unrefined. He +used violent language then. I desire to say to you, sir, that I am +here on the best of authority"--he tapped his breast pocket--"and +here I shall remain until I have discussed the main question +thoroughly with the estimable woman who has invited me here." + +"It's a lie--I never invited him, Colonel Gid!" cried the spinster. +"If you're any part of a man, and mean any part of what you have allus +said to me, you'll make him take that back." + +For a moment the Colonel's jealous suspicion had flamed again, but +the woman's appeal fired him in another direction. + +"Look here, you men," he shouted, his gaze running over plug-hat, +swollen nose, seaman's broad face, and the faces of the other suitors, +"I'm Gideon Ward, of Smyrna, and I've been engaged to Miss Pharline +Pike for fifteen years, and--" + +"Then I don't blame her for changing her mind, ye bloody landlubber!" +snorted the seaman, smacking his hand upon his folded paper. + +"Being engaged signifies little in the courts of matrimony," said +the decayed-looking man with dignity. "She has decided to choose +another, and--" + +Colonel Ward threw back his shoulders and faced them all with +glittering eyes. + +"I'd like to see the man that can step into this town and lug off +the woman that's promised to me," he raved. "Engagements don't hold, +hey? Then you come this way a week from to-day, and you'll see Gideon +Ward and Pharline Pike married as tight as a parson can tie the knot. +I mean it!" The excitement of the moment, his rage at interference +in his affairs, his desire to triumph thus publicly over these +strangers, had led him into the declaration. + +The spinster gasped, but she came to him and trustfully put her hand +on his arm. + +"P'raps some can be put off by that bluff," said the man with the +swollen nose, "but not me that has travelled. I'm here on business, +and I've got the dockyments, and if there's any shenanigan, then some +one's got to pay me my expenses, and for wear and tear." He waved +a paper. + +Ward leaped forward and snatched the paper from his grasp. + +"It's about time for me to see what you're flourishing round here +promiskous, like a bill o' sale of these primises," he snarled. + +"You can read it, and read it out jest as loud as you want to," said +the man, coming forward and putting a grimy finger on a paragraph +displayed prominently on the folded sheet of newspaper. + +The Colonel took one look and choked. An officious neighbor grabbed +away the paper when Ward made a sign as though to tuck it into his +pocket. + +"I'll read it," said the neighbor. "Mebbe my eyesight is better'n +yourn." Then he read, in shrill tones: + + "NOTICE TO BACHELORS + +"Unmarried maiden lady, smart and good-looking, desires good husband. +Has two-hundred-and-thirty-acre farm in good state of cultivation, +well stocked, and will promise right party a home and much affection. +Apply on premises to Pharlina Pike, Smyrna." + +"I never--I never--dadrat the liar that ever wrote that!" screamed +the spinster. + +"You see for yourself," said the man of the swollen nose, ignoring +her disclaimer. "We're here on business, and expect to be treated +like business men--or expenses refunded to us." + +But the Colonel roared wordlessly, like some angry animal, seized +a pitchfork that was leaning against the side of the spinster's ell, +and charged the group of suitors. His mien was too furious. They fled, +and fled far and forever. + +"There's some one," said Ward, returning into the yard and driving +the fork-tines into the ground, "who has insulted Miss Pike. I'd give +a thousand dollars to know who done that writin'." + +Only bewildered stares met his furious gaze. + +"I want you to understand," he went on, "that no one can drive me +to git married till I'm ready. But I'm standin' here now and tellin' +the nosy citizens of this place that I'm ready to be married, and +so's she who is goin' to be my companion, and we'll 'tend to our own +business in spite of the gossips of Smyrna. It's for this day week! +I don't want no more lyin' gossip about it. You're gittin' it straight +this time. It's for this day week; no invitations, no cards, no +flowers, no one's durnation business. There, take that home and chaw +on it. Pharline, let's you and me go into the house." + +"I reckon there's witnesses enough to make that bindin'," muttered +Cap'n Sproul under his breath. + +He bent forward and tapped the Colonel on the arm as Ward was about +to step upon the piazza. + +"Who do ye suspect?" he whispered, hoarsely. + +It was a perfectly lurid gaze that his brother-in-law turned on him. + +What clutched Ward's arm was a grip like a vise. He glared into the +Colonel's eyes with light fully as lurid as that which met his gaze. +He spoke low, but his voice had the grating in it that is more ominous +than vociferation. + +"I thought I'd warn ye not to twit. My rheumaticks is a good deal +better at this writin', and my mind ain't so much occupied by other +matters as it has been for a week or so. When you come home don't +talk northin' but business, jest as you natch'ally would to a +brother-in-law and an equal pardner. That advice don't cost northin', +but it's vallyble." + +As Cap'n Sproul trudged home, his little wife's arm tucked snugly +in the hook of his own, he observed, soulfully: + +"Mattermony, Louada Murilla--mattermony, it is a blessed state that +it does the heart good to see folks git into as ought to git into +it. As the poet says--um-m-m, well, it's in that book on the +settin'-room what-not. I'll read it to ye when we git home." + + + + +V + + +Cap'n Aaron Sproul was posted that bright afternoon on the end of +his piazza. He sat bolt upright and twiddled his gnarled thumbs +nervously. His wife came out and sat down beside him. + +"Where you left off, Cap'n," she prompted meekly, "was when the black, +whirling cloud was coming and you sent the men up-stairs--" + +"Aloft!" snapped Cap'n Sproul. + +"I mean aloft--and they were unfastening the sails off the ropes, +and--" + +"Don't talk of snuggin' a ship like you was takin' in a wash," roared +the ship-master, in sudden and ungallant passion. It was the first +impatient word she had received from him in that initial, cozy year +of their marriage. Her mild brown eyes swam in tears as she looked +at him wonderingly. + +"I--I haven't ever seen a ship or the sea, but I'm trying so hard +to learn, and I love so to hear you talk of the deep blue ocean. It +was what first attracted me to you." Her tone was almost a whimper. + +But her meekness only seemed to increase the Cap'n's impatience. + +"You haven't seemed to be like your natural self for a week," she +complained, wistfully. "You haven't seemed to relish telling me +stories of the sea and your narrow escapes. You haven't even seemed +to relish vittles and the scenery. Oh, haven't you been weaned from +the sea yet, Aaron?" + +Cap'n Sproul continued to regard his left foot with fierce gloom. +He was giving it his undivided attention. It rested on a wooden +"cricket," and was encased in a carpet slipper that contrasted +strikingly with the congress boot that shod his other foot. Red roses +and sprays of sickly green vine formed the pattern of the carpet +slipper. The heart of a red rose on the toe had been cut out, as though +the cankerworm had eaten it; and on a beragged projection that stuck +through and exhaled the pungent odor of liniment, the Cap'n's +lowering gaze was fixed. + +"There's always somethin' to be thankful for," said his meek wife, +her eyes following his gaze. "You've only sprained it, and didn't +break it. Does it still ache, dear?" + +"It aches like--of course it aches!" roared the Cap'n. "Don't ask +that jeebasted, fool question ag'in. I don't mean to be tetchy, +Louada Murilla," he went on, after a little pause, a bit of mildness +in his tone, "but you've got to make allowance for the way I feel. +The more I set and look at that toe the madder I git at myself. Oh, +I hadn't ought to have kicked that cousin of yourn, that's what I +hadn't!" + +"You don't know how glad I am to hear you say that, Aaron," she cried, +with fervor. "I was afraid you hadn't repented." + +"I ought to 'a' hit him with a club and saved my toe, that's what +I mean," he snorted, with grim viciousness. + +She sighed, and he resumed his dismal survey of the liniment-soaked +rags. + +"Once when I was--" he resumed, in a low growl, after a time. + +"Oh, I'm so glad you're goin' to tell a story, Cap'n," she chirped, +welcoming his first return of good-nature since his mishap. + +"There ain't no story to it," he snapped. "I only want to say that +there's a place down in Africa where I put in with the _Jefferson +P. Benn_ one time, where they daub honey on folks that they want to +git red of, and anchor 'em on an ant-bed. That's jest what's happenin' +to me here in Smyrna, and my thutty thousand dollars that I've worked +hard for and earnt and saved is the honey. You've lived among them +here all your life, Louada Murilla, and I s'pose you've got more or +less wonted to 'em. But if I hadn't squirmed and thrashed round a +little durin' the time I've lived here, after marryin' you and +settlin' down among 'em, they'd have et me, honey, money, hide, and +hair. As it is, they've got their little lunch off'm me. I haven't +thrashed round enough till--till yistiddy." + +He wriggled the toe in the centre of the rose, and grunted. + +"I was in hopes we wouldn't have any more trouble in the family, only +what we've had with brother Gideon since we've been married," she +said mildly. "Of course, Marengo Todd is only a second cousin of mine, +but still, he's in the family, you know, and families hang together, +'cause blood--" + +"Blood is what they want, blast 'em!" he bawled, angrily. "I've used +Marengo Orango, there, or whatever you call him, all right, ain't +I? I've let him do me! He knowed I was used to sea ways, and wa'n't +used to land ways, and that he _could_ do me. I lent him money, first +off, because I liked you. And I've lent him money sence because I +like a liar--and he's a good one! I've used all your relatives the +best I've knowed how, and--and they've turned round and used me! But +I've put a dot, full-stop, period to it--and I done it with that toe," +he added, scowling at the pathetic heart of the red rose. + +"I wish it hadn't been one of the family," she sighed. + +"It couldn't well help bein' one," snarled the Cap'n. "They're about +all named Todd or Ward round here but one, and his name is Todd Ward +Brackett, and he's due next. And they're all tryin' to borry money +off'm me and sell me spavined hosses. Now, let's see if they can take +a hint." He tentatively wriggled the toe some more, and groaned. "The +Todds and the Wards better keep away from me." + +Then he suddenly pricked up his ears at the sound of the slow rumble +of a wagon turning into the yard. The wagon halted, and they heard +the buzzing twang of a jew's-harp, played vigorously. + +"There's your Todd Ward Brackett. I predicted him! 'Round here to +sell ye rotten thread and rusted tinware and his all-fired Balm o' +Joy liniment." + +"It's good liniment, and I need some more for your toe, Aaron," +pleaded his wife, putting her worsted out of her lap. + +"I'll chop that toe off and use it for cod bait before I'll cure it +by buying any more liniment off'm him," the Cap'n retorted. "You jest +keep your settin', Louada Murilla. I'll tend to your fam'ly end after +this." + +He struggled up and began to hop toward the end of the piazza. The +new arrival had burst into cheery song: + + "There was old Hip Huff, who went by freight + To Newry Corner, in this State. + Packed him in a--" + +There was a red van in the yard, its side bearing the legend: + + T. BRACKETT, + + TINWARE AND YANKEE NOTIONS. + + LICENSED BY C.C. + +A brisk, little, round-faced man sat on the high seat, bolt upright +in the middle of it, carolling lustily. It was "Balm o' Joy" Brackett, +pursuing his humble vocation and using his familiar method of +attracting customers to their doors. + +"Shet up that clack!" roared the Cap'n. + +"Hillo, hullo, hallah, gallant Captain," chirped Brackett, +imperturbable under the seaman's glare. "I trust that glory floods +your soul and all the world seems gay." And he went on breathlessly: + +"May ev'ry hour of your life seem like a pan of Jersey milk, and may +you skim the cream off'm it. Let's be happy, let's be gay, trade with +me when I come your way. Tinware shines like the new-ris' sun, twist, +braid, needles beat by none; here's your values, cent by cent, and +Balm o' Joy lin-i-ment. Trade with--" + +"Git out o' this yard!" bawled the Cap'n, in his storm-and-tempest +tones. "You crack-brained, rag-and-bone-land-pirate, git off'm my +premises! I don't want your stuff. I've bought the last cent's wu'th +of you I'll ever buy. Git out!" + +"The Cap'n isn't well to-day, Todd," quavered Mrs. Sproul. Fear +prompted her to keep still. But many years of confidential barter +of rags for knicknacks had made Todd Brackett seem like "own folks," +as she expressed it. "We won't trade any to-day," she added, +apologetically. + +"Nor we won't trade ever," bawled the Cap'n, poising himself on one +foot like an angry hawk. "You go 'long out of this yard." + +Without losing his smile--for he had been long accustomed to the +taunts and tirades of dissatisfied housewives--the peddler backed +his cart around and drove away, crying over his shoulder with great +good-humor: + +"A merry life and a jolly life is the life for you and me!" + +"I'll make life merry for ye, if ye come into this yard ag'in, you +whiffle-headed dog-vane, you!" the Cap'n squalled after him. But +Brackett again struck up his roundelay: + + "There was old Hip Huff, who went by freight + To Newry Corner, in this State. + Put him in a crate to git him there, + With a two-cent stamp to pay his fare. + Rowl de fang-go--old Smith's mare." + +The Cap'n hopped into the house and set his foot again on the cricket +that his wife brought dutifully. He gritted his teeth as long as the +voice of the singer came to his ears. + +"I wish you hadn't," mourned his wife; "he's as good-meaning a man +as there is in town, even if he is a little light-headed. He's always +given me good trades, and his st'ilyards don't cheat on rags." + +The old mariner was evidently preparing a stinging reply, but a knock +on the door interrupted him. Louada Murilla admitted three men, who +marched in solemnly, one behind the other, all beaming with great +cordiality. Cap'n Sproul, not yet out of the doldrums, simply +glowered and grunted as they took seats. + +Then one of them, whom Sproul knew as Ludelphus Murray, the local +blacksmith, arose and cleared his throat with ominous formality. + +"It's best to hammer while the iron is hot, Cap'n," he said. "It won't +take many clips o' the tongue to tell you what we've come for. We +three here are a committee from the Smyrna Ancient and Honer'ble +Firemen's Association to notify you that at a meetin' last ev'nin' +you was unanimously elected a member of that organization, and--" + +"Oh, Aaron!" cried Louada Murilla, ecstatically. "How glad I am this +honor has been given to you! My own father belonged." + +"And," continued Murray, with a satisfied smile, and throwing back +his shoulders as one who brings great tidings, "it has been realized +for a long time that there ain't been the discipline in the +association that there ought to be. We have now among us in our midst +one who has commanded men and understands how to command men; one +who has sailed the ragin' deep in times of danger, and--and, well, +a man that understands how to go ahead and take the lead in tittlish +times. So the association"--he took a long breath--"has elected you +foreman, and I hereby hand you notice of the same and the book of +rules." + +The Cap'n scowled and put his hand behind the rocking-chair in which +he was seated. + +"Not by a--" he began, but Murray went on with cheerful explanation. + +"I want to say to you that this association is over a hundred years +old, and our hand tub, the 'Hecla,' is ninety-seven years old, and +has took more prizes squirtin' at musters than any other tub in the +State. We ain't had many fires ever in Smyrna, but the Ancients take +the leadin' rank in all social events, and our dances and banquets +are patronized by the best." + +"It's an awful big honor, Aaron," gasped his wife. She turned to the +committee. "The Cap'n hasn't been feelin' well, gentlemen, and this +honor has kind of overcome him. But I know he appreciates it. My own +father was foreman once, and it's a wonderful thing to think that +my husband is now." + +"'Tain't likely that the Ancients will ever forgit them dinners we +had here, Mis' Sproul," remarked one of the men, 'suffling' the +moisture at the corners of his mouth. + +"Seein' that you ain't well, we don't expect no speech, Cap'n," said +Murray, laying the documents upon Sproul's knee. "I see that the +honor has overcome you, as it nat'rally might any man. We will now +take our leave with a very good-day, and wishin' you all of the best, +yours truly, and so forth." He backed away, and the others rose. + +"Pass through the kitchen, gentlemen," said Mrs. Sproul, eagerly. +"I will set out a treat." They trudged that way with deep bows at +the threshold to their newly drafted foreman, who still glared at +them speechlessly. + +When Mrs. Sproul returned at length, still fluttering in her +excitement, he was reading the little pamphlet that had been left +with him, a brick-red color slowly crawling up the back of his neck. + +"Just think of it for an honor, Aaron," she stammered, "and you here +in town only such a little while! Oh, I am so proud of you! Mr. Murray +brought the things in his team and left them on the piazza. I'll run +and get them." + +She spread them on the sitting-room floor, kneeling before him like +a priestess offering sacrifice. With his thumb in the pamphlet, he +stared at the array. + +There was a battered leather hat with a broad apron, or scoop, behind +to protect the back. On a faded red shield above the visor was the +word "Foreman." There were two equally battered leather buckets. +There was a dented speaking-trumpet. These the Cap'n dismissed one +by one with an impatient scowl. But he kicked at one object with his +well foot. + +"What's that infernal thing?" he demanded. + +"A bed-wrench, Aaron. It's to take apart corded beds so as to get +them out of houses that are on fire. There aren't hardly any corded +beds now, of course, but it's a very old association that you're +foreman of, and the members keep the old things. It's awfully nice +to do so, I think. It's like keeping the furniture in old families. +And that big bag there, with the puckerin'-string run around it, is +the bag to put china and valuables into and lug away." + +"And your idee of an honor, is it," he sneered, "is that I'm goin' +to put that dingbusset with a leather back-fin onto my head and grab +up them two leather swill-pails and stick that iron thing there under +my arm and grab that puckering-string bag in my teeth and start +tophet-te-larrup over this town a-chasin' fires? Say--" but his +voice choked, and he began to read once more the pamphlet. The red +on the back of his neck grew deeper. + +At last the explosion occurred. + +"Louada Murilla Sproul, do you mean to say that you've had this thing +in your fam'ly once, and was knowin' what it meant, and then let them +three Shanghaiers come in here and shove this bloodsucker bus'ness +onto me, and git away all safe and sound? I had been thinkin' that +your Todds and Wards was spreadin' some sail for villuns, but they're +only moskeeters to Barb'ry pirates compared with this." + +He cuffed his hand against the open pages of the pamphlet. + +"It says here that the foreman has to set up a free dinner for 'em +four times a year and ev'ry holiday. It says that the foreman is fined +two dollars for ev'ry monthly meetin' that he misses, other members +ten cents. He's fined ten dollars for ev'ry fire that he isn't at, +other members a quarter of a dollar. He's fined one dollar for ev'ry +time he's ketched without his hat, buckets, bag, and bed-wrench hung +in his front hall where they belong, other members ten cents. And +he's taxed a quarter of the whole expenses of gittin' to firemen's +muster and back. Talk about lettin' blood with a gimlet! Why, they're +after me with a pod-auger!" + +All the afternoon he read the little book, cuffed it, and cursed. +He snapped up Louada Murilla with scant courtesy when she tried to +give him the history of Smyrna's most famous organization, and +timorously represented to him the social eminence he had attained. + +"It isn't as though you didn't have money, and plenty of it," she +pleaded. "You can't get any more good out of it than by spending it +that way. I tell you, Aaron, it isn't to be sneezed at, leading all +the grand marches at the Ancients' dances and being boss of 'em all +at the muster, with the band a-playin' and you leading 'em right up +the middle of the street. It's worth it, Aaron--and I shall be so +proud of you!" + +He grumbled less angrily the next morning. But he still insisted that +he didn't propose to let the consolidated Todds and Wards of Smyrna +bunco him into taking the position, and said that he should attend +the next meeting of the Ancients and resign. + +But when, on the third evening after his election, the enthusiastic +members of the Smyrna A. & H.F.A. came marching up from the village, +the brass band tearing the air into ribbons with cornets and +trombones, his stiff resolve wilted suddenly. He began to grin +shamefacedly under his grizzled beard, and hobbled out onto the porch +and made them a stammering speech, and turned scarlet with pride when +they cheered him, and basked in the glory of their compliments, and +thrilled when they respectfully called him "Chief." He even told +Louada Murilla that she was a darling, when she, who had been +forewarned, produced a "treat" from a hiding-place in the cellar. + +"I knew you'd appreciate it all as soon as you got wonted to the honor, +Aaron," she whispered, happy tears in her eyes. "It's the social +prominence--that's all there is to it. There hasn't been a fire in +the town for fifteen years, and you aren't going to be bothered one +mite. Oh, isn't that band just lovely?" + +The Cap'n went to bed late that night, his ears tingling with the +adulation of the multitude, and in his excited insomnia +understanding for the first time in his life the words: "Uneasy lies +the head that wears a crown." He realized more fully now that his +shipmaster days had given him a taste for command, and that he had +come into his own again. + + + + +VI + + +The new chief of the Ancients devoted the first hours of the next +morning to the arrangement of his fire-fighting gear in the front +hall, and when all the items had been suspended, so that they would +be ready to his hand as well as serve as ornament, he went out on +the porch and sunned himself, revelling in a certain snug and +contented sense of importance, such as he hadn't felt since he had +stepped down from the quarter-deck of his own vessel. He even gazed +at the protruding and poignant centre of that rose on his carpet +slipper with milder eyes, and sniffed aromatic whiffs of liniment +with appreciation of its invigorating odor. + +It was a particularly peaceful day. From his porch he could view a +wide expanse of rural scenery, and, once in a while, a flash of sun +against steel marked the location of some distant farmer in his +fields. There were no teams in sight on the highway, for the men of +Smyrna were too busily engaged on their acres. He idly watched a trail +of dun smoke that rose from behind a distant ridge and zigzagged +across the blue sky. He admired it as a scenic attraction, without +attaching any importance to it. Even when a woman appeared on the +far-off ridge and flapped her apron and hopped up and down and +appeared to be frantically signalling either the village in the +valley or the men in the fields, he only squinted at her through the +sunlight and wondered what ailed her. A sudden inspiring thought +suggested that perhaps she had struck a hornets' nest. He chuckled. + +A little later a ballooning cloud of dust came rolling down the road +toward him and the toll-bridge that led to Smyrna village. He noted +that the core of the cloud was a small boy, running so hard that his +knees almost knocked under his chin. He spun to a halt in front of +the Cap'n's gate and gasped: + +"Fi-ah, fi-ah, fi-ah-h-h-h, Chief! Ben Ide's house is a-fi-ah. I'll +holler it in the village and git 'em to ring the bell and start +'Hecla.'" Away he tore. + +"Fire!" bawled Cap'n Aaron, starting for the front hall with a scuff, +a hop, a skip, and jump, in order to favor his sprained toe. "Fire +over to Ben Ide's!" + +He had his foreman's hat on wrong side to when his wife came bursting +out of the sitting-room into the hall. She, loyal though excited lady +of the castle, shifted her knight's helmet to the right-about and +stuffed his buckets, bag, and bed-wrench into his hands. The cord +of his speaking-trumpet she slung over his neck. + +"I helped get father ready once, twenty years ago," she stuttered, +"and I haven't forgot! Oh, Aaron, I wish you hadn't got such a +prejudice against owning a horse and against Marengo when he tried +to sell you that one. Now you've got to wait till some one gives you +a lift. You can't go on that foot to Ide's." + +"Hoss!" he snorted. "Marengo! What he tried to sell me would be a +nice thing to git to a fire with! Spavined wusser'n a carpenter's +saw-hoss, and with heaves like a gasoline dory! I can hop there on +one foot quicker'n he could trot that hoss there! But I'll git there. +I'll git there!" + +He went limping out of the door, loaded with his equipment. + +The Methodist bell had not begun to ring, and it was evident that +the messenger of ill tidings had not pattered into the village as +yet. + +But there was a team in sight. It was "Balm o' Joy" Brackett, his +arms akimbo as he fished on the reins to hurry his horse. He was coming +from the direction of the toll-bridge, and had evidently met the boy. + +"I've got my lo'd--I've got my lo'd, but I'll leave behind me all +o' the ro'd," he chirped, when the Cap'n went plunging toward him +with the evident intention of getting on board. + +"I'm foreman of the Ancients," roared the Cap'n, "and I have the right +to press into service any craft I see passin'. Take me aboard, I say, +dumblast ye!" + +"This ain't no high seas," retorted Brackett, trying to lick past. +"You can drive gents out of your dooryard, but you can't do no +press-gang bus'ness on 'em." + +It was apparent that even "Balm o' Joy's" bland nature could +entertain resentment. + +"'Tain't right to lay up grudges ag'inst a man that was fussed up +like I was, Mister Brackett," pleaded the Cap'n, hopping along beside +the van. "I've got to git to that fire, I tell you. I'm the foreman! +I'll use you right, after this. I will, I tell you. Lemme on board." + +"Promus' flies high when it's hot and dry!" twittered the peddler, +still cheerful but obstinate. + +"I'll give ye five dollars to take me to Ben Ide's--ten!" he roared, +when Brackett showed no sign of stopping. + +"Promus' on the ground can be better found. Whoa!" cried Brackett, +promptly. "I'll take the fare before you climb up! You'll be so busy +when you git to the fire that I wouldn't want to bother you then." + +The Cap'n glowered but chewed his lips to prevent retort, pulled his +wallet, and paid. Then he gathered his apparatus and grunted up to +the high seat. + +Far behind them the excited clang-clang of the Methodist bell was +pealing its first alarm. + +"By the time they git hosses up out of the fields and hitched onto +'Hecla,' and git their buckets and didoes and git started, I reckon +things will be fried on both sides at Ben Ide's," chatted the peddler. + +"Lick up! Lick up!" barked the Cap'n. "I'm payin' for a quick ride +and not conversation." + +Brackett clapped the reins along his nag's skinny flank, set his +elbows on his knees, and began: + + "There was old Hip Huff, who went by freight, + To Newry Corner, in--" + +"Luff, luff!" snorted the Cap'n, in disgust. + +"Luff, luff?" queried the songster. + +"Yes, luff! Avast! Belay! Heave to! I don't like caterwaulin'. You +keep your mind right on drivin' that hoss." + +"You must have been a pop'lar man all your life," remarked the peddler, +with a baleful side-glance. "Does politeness come nat'ral to you, +or did you learn it out of a book?" + +The Cap'n made no reply. He only hitched himself forward as though +trying to assist the momentum of the cart, and clutched his buckets, +one in each hand. + +A woman came flying out of the first house they passed and squalled: + +"Where's the fire, Mr. Brackett, and is anybody burnt up, and hadn't +you jest as liv' take my rags now? I've got 'em all sacked and ready +to weigh, and I sha'n't be to home after to-day." + +Brackett pulled up. + +"Blast your infernal pelt," howled the Cap'n, "you drive on!" + +"Bus'ness is bus'ness," muttered the peddler, "and you ain't bought +me and my team with that little old ten dollars of yourn, and you +can't do northin', anyway, till Hecla gits there with the boys, and +when you're there I don't see what you're goin' to amount to with +that sore toe." + +He was clearly rebellious. Cap'n Sproul had touched the tenderest +spot in T.W. Brackett's nature by that savage yelp at his vocal +efforts. But the chief of the Ancients had been wounded as cruelly +in his own pride. He stood up and swung a bucket over the crouching +peddler. + +"Drive on, you lubber," he howled, "or I'll peg you down through that +seat like I'd drive a tack. Drive on!" + +Brackett ducked his head and drove. And the Cap'n, summoning all the +resources of a vocabulary enriched by a sea experience of thirty +years, yelled at him and his horse without ceasing. + +When they topped the ridge they were in full view of Ide's doomed +buildings, and saw the red tongues of flame curling through the +rolling smoke. + +But a growing clamor behind made the Chief crane his neck and gaze +over the top of the van. + +"Hecla" was coming! + +Four horses were dragging it, and two-score men were howling along +with it, some riding, but the most of them clinging to the brake-beams +and slamming along through the dust on foot. A man, perched beside +the driver, was bellowing something through a trumpet that sounded +like: + +"Goff-off-errow, goff-off-errow, goff-off-errow!" + +The peddler was driving sullenly, and without any particular +enterprise. But this tumult behind made his horse prick up his ears +and snort. When the nag mended his pace and began to lash out with +straddling legs, the Cap'n yelled: + +"Let him go! Let him go! They want us to get off the road!" + +"Goff-off-errow!" the man still bellowed through the trumpet. + +"I've got goods that will break and I'll be cuss-fired if I'll break +'em for you nor the whole Smyrna Fire Department!" screamed Brackett; +but when he tried to pull up his steed, the Cap'n, now wholly beside +himself and intent only on unrestricted speed, banged a leather +bucket down across the driver's hands. + +Brackett dropped the reins, with a yell of pain, and they fell into +the dust and dragged. The horse broke into a bunchy, jerky gallop, +and lunged down the hill, the big van swaying wildly with an ominous +rattling and crashing in its mysterious interior. + +There were teams coming along a cross-road ahead of them and teams +rattling from the opposite direction toward the fire, approaching +along the highway they were travelling. Collisions seemed inevitable. +But in a moment of inspiration the Cap'n grabbed the trumpet that +hung from its red cord around his neck and began to bellow in his +turn: + +"Goff-off-errow, goff-off-errow!" It was as nearly as human voice +could phrase "Get off the road" through the thing. + +The terrifying bulk of the big van cleared the way ahead, even though +people desperately risked tip-ups in the gutter. As it tore along, +horses climbed fences with heads and tails up. There were men +floundering in bushes and women squalling from the tops of +rock-heaps. + +The Chief of the Ancients did not halt to attend to his duties at +the fire. He went howling past on the high seat of the van, over the +next ridge and out of sight. + +"We're goin' to tophet, and you done it, and you've got to pay for +it," Brackett wailed over and over, bobbing about on the seat. But +the Cap'n did not reply. Teams kept coming into sight ahead, and he +had thought only for his monotonous bellow of "Goff-off-errow!" + +Disaster--the certain disaster that they had despairingly +accepted--met them at the foot of Rines' hill, two miles beyond Ide's. +The road curved sharply there to avoid "the Pugwash," as a +particularly mushy and malodorous bog was called in local +terminology. + +At the foot of the hill the van toppled over with a crash and anchored +the steaming horse, already staggering in his exhaustion. Both men +had scrambled to the top of the van, ready to jump into the Pugwash +as they passed. The Cap'n still carried his equipment, both buckets +slung upon one arm, and even in this imminent peril it never occurred +to him to drop them. Lucky fate made their desperate leap for life +a tame affair. When the van toppled they were tossed over the roadside +into the bog, lighted on their hands and knees, and sank slowly into +its mushiness like two Brobdingnagian frogs. + +It was another queer play of fate that the next passer was Marengo +Todd, whipping his way to the fire behind a horse that had a bit of +wire pinched over his nose to stifle his "whistling." + +Marengo Todd leaped out and presented the end of a fence-rail to +Brackett first, and pulled him out. + +When he stuck the end of the rail under the Cap'n's nose the Cap'n +pushed it away with mud-smeared hands. + +"I don't, myself, nuss grudges in times of distress, Cap Sproul," +shouted Todd. "You kicked me. I know that. But you was in the wrong, +and you got the wu'st of it. Proverdunce has allus settled my grudges +for me in jest that way. I forgive and pass on, but Proverdunce don't. +Take that fence-rail. It sha'n't ever be said by man that Marengo +Todd nussed a grudge." + +When the Cap'n was once more on solid ground, Todd, still iterating +his forgiveness of past injuries, picked up a tin pie-plate that had +been jarred out of the van among other litter, and began to scrape +the black mud off the foreman of the Ancients in as matter-of-fact +a way as though he were currycombing a horse. + +The spirit of the doughty mariner seemed broken at last. He looked +down at himself, at the mud-clogged buckets and his unspeakable +bedragglement. + +"I've only got one word to say to you right here and now, Cap'n," +went on Todd, meekly, "and it's this, that no man ever gits jest where +he wants to git, unless he has a ree-li'ble hoss. I've tried to tell +you so before, but--but, well, you didn't listen to me the way you +ought to." He continued to scrape, and the Cap'n stared mutely down +at the foot that was encased in a muddy slipper. + +"Now, there's a hoss standin' there--" pursued Todd. + +"What will you take for that team jest as it stands?" blurted the +mariner, desperately. The fire, the smoke of which was rolling up +above the distant tree-tops, and his duty there made him reckless. +As he looked down on Todd he hadn't the heart to demand of that meek +and injured person that he should forget and forgive sufficiently +to take him in and put him down at Ide's. It seemed like crowding +the mourners. Furthermore, Cap'n Aaron Sproul was not a man who +traded in humble apologies. His independence demanded a different +footing with Todd, and the bitter need of the moment eclipsed economy. +"Name your price!" + +"A hundred and thutty, ev'rything throwed in, and I'll drive you +there a mile a minit," gasped Todd, grasping the situation. + +With muddy hands, trembling in haste, the Cap'n drew his long, fat +wallet and counted out the bills. Brackett eyed him hungrily. + +"You might jest as well settle with me now as later through the law," +he cried. + +But the Cap'n butted him aside, with an oath, and climbed into the +wagon. + +"You drive as though the devil had kicked ye," he yelled to Todd. +"It's my hoss, and I don't care if you run the four legs off'm him." + +Half-way to Ide's, a man leaped the roadside fence and jumped up and +down before them in the highway. He had a shotgun in his hands. + +"It's my brother--Voltaire," shouted Marengo, pulling up, though +Cap'n Sproul swore tempestuously. "You've got to take him on. He +b'longs to your fire comp'ny." + +"I was out huntin' when I heard the bell," bellowed the new passenger, +when he had scrambled to a place behind the wagon-seat, his back +toward them and his legs hanging down. "I'm fu'st hoseman, and it's +lucky you came along and giv' me a lift." He set his gun-butt down +between his knees, the muzzle pointing up. + +Cap'n Sproul had his teeth set hard upon a hank of his grizzled +whiskers, and his eyes on the smoke ahead. Todd ran his wheezing horse +up the ridge, and when they topped it they beheld the whole moving +scene below them. + +Men were running out of the burning house, throwing armfuls of goods +right and left. The "Hecla" was a-straddle of the well, and rows of +men were tossing at her brake-beams. + +"Give her tar, give her tar!" yelled the man behind, craning his thin +neck. Todd lashed at the horse and sent him running down the slope. +At the foot of the declivity, just before they came to the lane +leading into Ide's place, there was a culvert where the road crossed +a brook. + +The boarding in the culvert made a jog in the road, and when the wagon +struck this at top speed its body flipped behind like the tongue of +a catapult. + +The man with the gun, having eyes and senses only for the fire and +his toiling fellow-Ancients, was unprepared. He went up, out, and +down in the dust, doggedly clinging to his gun. He struck the ground +with it still between his knees. The impact of the butt discharged +both barrels straight into the air. + +Flanked by a roaring fire and howling crowd, and bombarded in the +rear, even a horse with a bone spavin and the heaves will exhibit +the spirit of Bucephalus. One of the rotten reins broke at Marengo's +first terrified tug. In less time than it takes to tell, Cap'n Aaron +Sproul, desperate and beholding only one resource--the tail +flaunting over the dasher--seized it and gave a seaman's sturdy pull. +The tail came away in his hands and left only a wildly brandishing +stump. Even in that moment of horror, the Cap'n had eyes to see and +wit to understand that this false tail was more of Marengo Todd's +horse-jockey guile. The look that he turned on the enterprising +doctor of caudal baldness was so perfectly diabolical that Marengo +chose what seemed the lesser of two evils. He precipitated himself +over the back of the seat, dropped to the ground as lightly as a cat, +ran wildly until he lost his footing, and dove into some wayside +alders. Cap'n Aaron Sproul was left alone with his newly acquired +property! + +When he hove in sight of his own house he saw Louada Murilla on the +porch, gazing off at the smoke of the fire and evidently luxuriating +in the consciousness that it was her husband who was that day leading +the gallant forces of the Ancients. + +As he stared wildly, home seemed his haven and the old house his rock +of safety. He did not understand enough about the vagaries of horses +and wagons to appreciate the risk. One rein still hung over the +dasher. + +"Only one jib down-haul left of all the riggin'," he groaned, and +then grabbed it and surged on it. + +The horse swung out of the road, the wagon careering wildly on two +wheels. Sproul crossed the corner of some ploughed land, swept down +a length of picket-fence, and came into his own lane, up which the +horse staggered, near the end of his endurance. The wagon swung and +came to grief against the stone hitching-post at the corner of the +porch. Cap'n Sproul, encumbered still with buckets and bag and +trumpet, floundered over the porch rail, through a tangled mass of +woodbine vines, and into the arms of his distracted wife. + +For five minutes after she had supported him to a chair she could +do nothing but stare at him, with her hands clasped and her eyes +goggling, and cry, "Aaron, Aaron, dear!" in crescendo. His sole +replies to her were hollow sounds in his throat that sounded like +"unk!" + +"Where have you been?" she cried. "All gurry, and wet as sop? If you +are hurt what made 'em let their Chief come home all alone with that +wild hoss? Aaron, can't you speak?" + +He only flapped a muddy hand at her, and seemed to be beyond speech. +There was a dull, wondering look in his eyes, as though he were trying +to figure out some abstruse problem. He did not brighten until a team +came tearing up to the gate, and a man with a scoop fireman's hat +on came running to the porch. The man saluted. + +"Chief," he said, with the air of an aide reporting on the field of +battle, "that house and barn got away from us, but we fit well for +'em--yas s'r, we fit well! It is thought queer in some quarters that +you wasn't there to take charge, but I told the boys that you'd +prob'ly got good reasons, and they'll git over their mad, all right. +You needn't worry none about that!" + +The Cap'n's sole reply was another of those hollow "unks!" + +"But the boys is pretty well beat out, and so I've run over to ask +if you'll let us use your ten-dollar fine for a treat? That will help +their feelin's to'ards you a good deal, and--" + +The Cap'n, without taking his eyes from the smug face of the man, +swung one of the buckets and let drive at him. It missed. But he had +got his range, and the next bucket knocked off the scoop hat. When +the Cap'n scrambled to his feet, loaded with the bed-wrench for his +next volley, the man turned and ran for his team. The bed-wrench +caught him directly between the shoulders--a masterly shot. The +trumpet flew wild, but by that time the emissary of the Ancients was +in his wagon and away. + +"Aaron!" his wife began, quaveringly, but the Cap'n leaped toward +her, pulled the mouth of the puckering-bag over her head, and hopped +into the house. When at last she ventured to peer in at the +sitting-room window, he was tearing the book of "Rules of the Smyrna +Ancient and Honorable Firemen's Association," using both his hands +and his teeth, and worrying it as a dog worries a bone. + +That was his unofficial resignation. The official one came as soon +as he could control his language. + +And for a certain, prolonged period in the history of the town of +Smyrna it was well understood that Cap'n Aaron Sproul was definitely +out of public affairs. But in public affairs it often happens that +honors that are elusive when pursued are thrust upon him who does +not seek them. + + + + +VII + + +The moderator of the Smyrna town meeting held his breath for just +a moment so as to accentuate the hush in which the voters listened +for his words, and then announced the result of the vote for first +selectman of Smyrna: + +"Whole number cast, one hundred thutty-two; necessary for a choice, +sixty-seven; of which Colonel Gideon Ward has thutty-one." + +A series of barking, derisive yells cut in upon his solemn +announcement, and he rapped his cane on the marred table of the town +hall and glared over his spectacles at the voters. + +"And Cap'n Aaron Sproul has one hundred and--" + +The howl that followed clipped his last words. Men hopped upon the +knife-nicked settees of the town house and waved their hats while +they hooted. A group of voters, off at one side, sat and glowered +at this hilarity. Out of the group rose Colonel Gideon, his long frame +unfolding with the angularity of a carpenter's two-foot rule. There +were little dabs of purple on his knobby cheek-bones. His hair and +his beard bristled. He put up his two fists as far as his arms would +reach and vibrated them, like a furious Jeremiah calling down curses. + +Such ferocious mien had its effect on the spectators after a time. +Smyrna quailed before her ancient tyrant, even though he was +dethroned. + +"Almighty God has always wanted an excuse to destroy this town like +Sodom and Gomorrah was destroyed," he shouted, his voice breaking +into a squeal of rage; "now He's got it." + +He drove his pointed cap onto his head, gave a parting shake of his +fists that embraced moderator, voters, walls, floor, roof, and all +appurtenances of the town house, and stalked down the aisle and out. +The silence in town meeting was so profound that the voters heard +him welting his horse as he drove away. + +After a time the moderator drew a long breath, and stated that he +did not see Cap'n Aaron Sproul in the meeting, and had been informed +that he was not present. + +"I come past his place this mornin'," whispered Old Man Jordan to +his neighbor on the settee, "and he was out shovelin' snow off'm the +front walk, and when I asked him if he wa'n't comin' to town meetin', +he said that a run of the seven years' itch and the scurvy was pretty +bad, but he reckoned that politics was wuss. I should hate to be the +one that has to break this news to him." + +"And seein' how it's necessary to have the first selectman here to +be sworn in before the meetin' closes this afternoon," went on the +moderator, "I'll appoint a committee of three to wait on Cap'n Aaron +Sproul and notify him of the distinguished honor that has been done +him this day by his feller townsmen." + +He settled his spectacles more firmly upon his nose, and ran his gaze +calculatingly over the assembled voters. No one of those patriotic +citizens seemed to desire to be obtrusive at that moment. + +"I'll appoint as chairman of that notifying committee," proceeded +the moderator, "Entwistle Harvey, and as--" + +"I shall have to decline the honor," interrupted Mr. Entwistle Harvey, +rising promptly. The voters grinned. They thoroughly understood the +reason for Mr. Harvey's reluctance. + +"It ain't that I'm any less a reformer than the others that has to-day +redeemed this town from ring rule and bossism," declared Mr. Harvey, +amid applause; "it ain't that I don't admire the able man that has +been selected to lead us up out of the vale of political sorrow--and +I should be proud to stand before him and offer this distinguished +honor from the voters of this town, but I decline because I--I--well, +there ain't any need of goin' into personal reasons. I ain't the man +for the place, that's all." He sat down. + +"I don't blame him none for duckin'," murmured Old Man Jordan to his +seat companion. "Any man that was in the crowd that coaxed Cap'n +Sproul into takin' the foremanship of Heckly Fire Comp'ny has got +a good excuse. I b'lieve the law says that ye can't put a man twice +in peril of his life." + +Cap'n Sproul's stormy relinquishment of the hateful honor that had +been foisted upon him by the Smyrna fire-fighters was history recent +enough to give piquant relish to the present situation. He had not +withheld nor modified his threats as to what would happen to any other +committee that came to him proffering public office. + +The more prudent among Smyrna's voters had hesitated about making +the irascible ex-mariner a candidate for selectman's berth. + +But Smyrna, in its placid New England eddy, had felt its own little +thrill from the great tidal wave of municipal reform sweeping the +country. It immediately gazed askance at Colonel Gideon Ward, for +twenty years first selectman of Smyrna, and growled under its breath +about "bossism." But when the search was made for a candidate to run +against him, Smyrna men were wary. Colonel Ward held too many +mortgages and had advanced too many call loans not to be well +fortified against rivals. + +"The only one who has ever dared to twist his tail is his +brother-in-law, the Cap'n," said Odbar Broadway, oracularly, to the +leaders who had met in his store to canvass the political situation. +"The Cap'n won't be as supple as some in town office, but he ain't +no more hell 'n' repeat than what we've been used to for the last +twenty years. He's wuth thutty thousand dollars, and Gid Ward can't +foreclose no mo'gidge on him nor club him with no bill o' sale. He's +the only prominunt man in town that can afford to take the office +away from the Colonel. What ye've got to do is to go ahead and elect +him, and then trust to the Lord to make him take it." + +So that was what Smyrna had done on that slushy winter's day. + +It did it with secret joy and with ballots hidden in its palms, where +the snapping eyes of Colonel Ward could not spy. + +And now, instead of invoking the higher power mentioned as a resource +by Broadway, the moderator of the town meeting was struggling with +human tools, and very rickety human tools they seemed to be. + +Five different chairmen did he nominate, and with great alacrity the +five refused to serve. + +The moderator took off his glasses, and testily rapped the dented +table. + +"Feller citizens," he snapped, "this is gittin' to be boys' play. +I realize puffickly that Cap'n Aaron Sproul, our first +selectman-elect, has not been a seeker after public office since he +retired as foreman of the Hecla Fire Company. I realize puffickly +that he entertained some feelin' at the time that--that--he wasn't +exactly cal'lated to be foreman of an engine company. But that ain't +sayin' that he won't receive like gentlemen the committee that comes +to tell him that he has been elected to the highest office in this +town. I ain't got any more time to waste on cowards. There's one man +here that ain't afraid of his own shadder. I call on Constable Zeburee +Nute to head the committee, and take along with him Constables Wade +and Swanton. And I want to say to the voters here that it's a nice +report to go abroad from this town that we have to pick from the police +force to get men with enough courage to tell a citizen that he's been +elected first selectman. But the call has gone out for Cincinnatus, +and he must be brought here." + +The moderator's tone was decisive and his mien was stern. Otherwise, +even the doughty Constable Nute might have refused to take orders, +though they were given in the face and eyes of his admiring neighbors. +He gnawed at his grizzled beard and fingered doubtfully the badge +that, as chief constable of the town, he wore on the outside of his +coat. + +"Gents of the committee, please 'tend promptly to the duties +assigned," commanded the moderator, "and we will pass on to the next +article in the town warrant." + +Mr. Nute rose slowly and marched out of the hall, the other two +victims following without any especial signs of enthusiasm. + +In the yard of the town house Mr. Nute faced them, and remarked: + +"I have some ideas of my own as to a genteel way of gittin' him +interested in this honor that we are about to bestow. Has any one +else ideas?" + +The other two constables shook their heads gloomily. + +"Then I'll take the brunt of the talk on me and foller my ideas," +announced Mr. Nute. "I've been studyin' reform, and, furthermore, +I know who Cincinnatus was!" + +The three men unhitched each his own team, and drove slowly, in single +file, along the mushy highway. + +It was one of Cap'n Aaron Sproul's mentally mild, mellow, and benign +days, when his heart seemed to expand like a flower in the comforts +of his latter-life domestic bliss. Never had home seemed so +good--never the little flush on Louada Murilla's cheeks so +attractive in his eyes as they dwelt fondly on her. + +In the night he had heard the sleet clattering against the pane and +the snow slishing across the clapboards, and he had turned on his +pillow with a little grunt of thankfulness. + +"There's things about dry land and the people on it that ain't so +full of plums as a sailor's duff ought to be," he mused, "but--" And +then he dozed off, listening to the wind. + +In the morning, just for a taste of rough weather, he had put on his +slicker and sea-boots and shovelled the slush off the front walk. +Then he sat down with stockinged feet held in the radiance of an open +Franklin stove, and mused over some old log-books that he liked to +thumb occasionally for the sake of adding new comfort to a fit of +shore contentment. + +This day he was taking especial interest in the log-books, for he +was again collaborating with Louada Murilla in that spasmodic +literary effort that she had termed: + + FROM SHORE TO SHORE + + LINES FROM A MARINER'S ADVENTURES + + _The Life Story of the Gallant Captain Aaron Sproul_ + + _Written by His Affectionate Wife_ + +"You can put down what's true," he said, continuing a topic that they +had been pursuing, "that boxin' the compass and knowin' a jib +down-haul from a pound of saleratus ain't all there is to a master +mariner's business, not by a blamed sight. Them passuls of cat's meat +that they call sailormen in these days has to be handled,--well, the +superintendent of a Sunday-school wouldn't be fit for the job, unless +he had a little special trainin'." + +Louada Murilla, the point of her pencil at her lips, caught a +vindictive gleam in his eyes. + +"But it seems awful cruel, some of the things that you--you--I +suppose you had to do 'em, Aaron! And yet when you stop and think +that they've got immortal souls to save--" + +"They don't carry any such duffle to sea in their dunnage-bags," +snapped the skipper. "Moral suasion on them would be about like +tryin' to whittle through a turkle's shell with a hummin'-bird's +pin-feather. My rule most generally was to find one soft spot on 'em +somewhere that a marlin-spike would hurt, and then hit that spot hard +and often. That's the only way I ever got somewhere with a cargo and +got back ag'in the same year." + +"I suppose it has to be," sighed his wife, making a note. "It's like +killing little calves for veal, and all such things that make the +fond heart ache." + +The Cap'n was "leaving" the grimy pages of a log-book. He paused over +certain entries, and his face darkened. There was no more +vindictiveness in his expression. It was regret and a sort of vague +worry. + +"What is it, Aaron?" asked his wife, with wistful apprehensiveness. + +"Northin'," he growled. + +"But I know it's something," she insisted, "and I'm always ready to +share your burdens." + +Cap'n Sproul looked around on the peace of his home, and some deep +feeling seemed to surge in his soul. + +"Louada Murilla," he said, sadly, "this isn't anything to be written +in the book, and I didn't ever mean to speak of it to you. But there +are times when a man jest has to talk about things, and he can't help +it. There was one thing that I've been sorry for. I've said so to +myself, and I'm goin' to say as much to you. Confession is good for +the soul, so they say, and it may help me out some to tell you." + +The horrified look on her face pricked him to speak further. 'Tis +a titillating sensation, sometimes, to awe or shock those whom we +love, when we know that forgiveness waits ready at hand. + +"There was once--there was one man--I hit him dretful hard. He was +a Portygee. But I hit him too hard. It was a case of mutiny. I reckon +I could have proved it was mutiny, with the witnesses. But I hit him +hard." + +"Did he--?" gasped his wife. + +"He did," replied the Cap'n, shortly, and was silent for a time. + +"The thing for me to have done," he went on, despondently, "was to +report it, and stood hearin'. But it was six weeks after we'd dropped +him overboard--after the funeral, ye know--before we reached port. +And there was a cargo ashore jest dancin' up and down to slip through +the main hatch as soon as t' other one was over the rail--and freights +'way up and owners anxious for results, and me tryin' for a record, +and all that, ye know. All is, there wa'n't nothin' said by the crew, +for they wa'n't lookin' for trouble, and knowed the circumstances, +and so I lo'ded and sailed. And that's all to date." + +"But they say 'murder will out.'" Her face was white. + +"It wa'n't murder. It was discipline. And I didn't mean to. But either +his soft spot was too soft, or else I hit too hard. What I ought to +have done was to report when my witnesses was right handy. Since I've +settled and married and got property, I've woke up in the night, +sometimes, and thought what would happen to me if that Portygee's +relatives got track of me through one of the crew standin' in with +'em--blabbin' for what he could git out of it. I have to think about +those things, now that I've got time to worry. Things looks different +ashore from what they do aflo't, with your own ship under you and +hustlin' to make money." He gazed round the room again, and seemed +to luxuriate in his repentance. + +"But if anything should be said, you could hunt up those men and--" + +"Hunt what?" the Cap'n blurted. "Hunt tarheels once they've took +their dunnage-bags over the rail? Hunt whiskers on a flea! What are +you talkin' about? Why, Louada Murilla, I never even knowed what the +Portygee's name was, except that I called him Joe. A skipper don't +lo'd his mem'ry with that sculch any more'n he'd try to find names +for the hens in the deck-coop. + +"I made a mistake," he continued, after a time, "in not havin' it +cleaned up, decks washed, and everything clewed snug at the time of +it. But ev'ry man makes mistakes. I made mine then. It would be +God-awful to have it come down on me when I couldn't prove nothin' +except that I give him the best funeral I could. There ain't much +of anything except grit in the gizzard of a United States court. They +seem to think the Govumment wants every one hung. I remember a captain +once who--" + +He paused suddenly, for he caught sight of three muddy wagons +trundling in procession into the yard. In the first one sat Constable +Zeburee Nute, his obtrusive nickel badge on his overcoat. + +Cap'n Sproul looked at Louada Murilla, and she stared at him, and +in sudden panic both licked dry lips and were silent. The topic they +had been pursuing left their hearts open to terror. There are moments +when a healthy body suddenly absorbs germs of consumption that it +has hitherto thrown off in hale disregard. There are moments when +the mind and courage are overwhelmed by panic that reason does not +pause to analyze. + + + + +VIII + + +Louada Murilla opened the front door when the chief constable knocked, +after an exasperatingly elaborate hitching and blanketing of horses. +She staggered to the door rather than walked. The Cap'n sat with rigid +legs still extended toward the fire. + +The three men filed into the room, and remained standing in solemn +row. Mr. Nute, on behalf of the delegation, refused chairs that were +offered by Mrs. Sproul. He had his own ideas as to how a committee +of notification should conduct business. He stood silent and looked +at Louada Murilla steadily and severely until she realized that her +absence was desired. + +She tottered out of the room, her terrified eyes held in lingering +thrall by the woe-stricken orbs of the Cap'n. + +Constable Nute eyed the door that she closed, waiting a satisfactory +lapse of time, and then cleared his throat and announced: + +"I want you to realize, Cap'n Sproul, that me and my feller constables +here has been put in a sort of a hard position. I hope you'll consider +that and govern yourself accordin'. First of all, we're obeyin' +orders from them as has authority. I will say, however, that I have +ideas as to how a thing ought to be handled, and my associates have +agreed to leave the talkin' to me. I want to read you somethin' +first," he said, fumbling at the buttons on his coat, "but that you +may have some notion as to what it all points and be thinkin' it over, +I'll give you a hint. To a man of your understandin', I don't s'pose +I have to say more than 'Cincinnatus,' That one word explains itself +and our errunt." + +"I never knowed his last name," mumbled the Cap'n, enigmatically. +"But I s'pose they've got it in the warrant, all right!" He was eying +the hand that was seeking the constable's inside pocket. "I never +was strong on Portygee names. I called him Joe." + +Mr. Nute merely stared, without trying to catch the drift of this +indistinct muttering. + +While the Cap'n watched him in an agony of impatience and suspense, +he slowly drew out a spectacle-case, settled his glasses upon his +puffy nose, unfolded a sheet of paper on which a dirty newspaper +clipping was pasted, and began to read: + +"More than ever before in the history of the United States of America +are loyal citizens called upon to throw themselves into the breach +of municipal affairs, and wrest from the hands of the guilty--" + +The ears of Cap'n Sproul, buzzing with his emotions, caught only a +few words, nor grasped any part of the meaning. But the sonorous +"United States of America" chilled his blood, and the word "guilty" +made his teeth chatter. + +He felt an imperious need of getting out of that room for a moment--of +getting where he could think for a little while, out from under the +starings of those three solemn men. + +"I want to--I want to--" he floundered; "I would like to get on my +shoes and my co't and--and--I'll be right back. I won't try to--I'll +be right back, I say." + +Mr. Nute suspended his reading, looked over his spectacles, and gave +the required permission. Perhaps it occurred to his official sense +that a bit more dignified attire would suit the occasion better. A +flicker of gratification shone on his face at the thought that the +Cap'n was so nobly and graciously rising to the spirit of the thing. + +"It's come, Louada Murilla--it's come!" gulped Cap'n Sproul, as he +staggered into the kitchen, where his wife cowered in a corner. "He's +readin' a warrant. He's even got the Portygee's name. My Gawd, +they'll hang me! I can't prove northin'." + +"Oh, Aaron," sobbed his wife, and continued to moan. "Oh, Aaron--" +with soft, heartbreaking cluckings. + +"Once the law of land-piruts gets a bight 'round ye, ye never git +away from it," groaned the Cap'n. "The law sharks is always waitin' +for seafarin' men. There ain't no hope for me." + +His wife had no encouragement to offer. + +"Murder will out, Aaron," she quaked. "And they've sent three +constables." + +"Them other two--be they--?" + +"They're constables." + +"There ain't no hope. And it shows how desp'rit' they think I be. +It shows they're bound to have me. It's life and death, Louada Murilla. +If I don't git anything but State Prison, it's goin' to kill me, for +I've lived too free and open to be penned up at my time o' life. It +ain't fair--it ain't noways fair!" His voice broke. "It was all a +matter of discipline. But you can't prove it to land-sharks. If they +git me into their clutches I'm a goner." + +His pistols hung on the wall where Louada Murilla had suspended them, +draped with the ribbons of peace. + +"There's only one thing to do," he whispered, huskily, pointing at +the weapons with quivering finger. "I'll shoot 'em in the legs, jest +to hold 'em up. I'll git to salt water. I know skippers that will +take me aboard, even if they have to stand off the whole United States. +I've got friends, Louada, as soon as I git to tide-water. It won't +hurt 'em in there--a bullet in the leg. And it's life and death for +me. There's foreign countries where they can't take me up. I know +'em, I've been there. And I'll send for you, Louada Murilla. It's +the best I can think of now. It ain't what I should choose, but it's +the best I can think of. I've had short notice. I can't let 'em take +me." + +As he talked he seemed to derive some comfort from action. He pulled +on his boots. He wriggled into his coat. From a pewter pitcher high +up on a dresser shelf he secured a fat wallet. But when he rushed +to take down the pistols his wife threw herself into his arms. + +"You sha'n't do that, Aaron," she cried. "I'll go to State Prison +with you--I'll go to the ends of the world to meet you. But I couldn't +have those old men shot in our own house. I realize you've got to +get away. But blood will never wash out blood. Take one of their teams. +Run the horse to the railroad-station. It's only four miles, and +you've got a half-hour before the down-train. And I'll lock 'em into +the setting-room, Aaron, and keep 'em as long as I can. And I'll come +to you, Aaron, though I have to follow you clear around the world." + +In the last, desperate straits of an emergency, many a woman's wits +ring truer than a man's. When she had kissed him and departed on her +errand to lock the front door he realized that her counsel was good. + +He left the pistols on the wall. As he ran into the yard, he got a +glimpse, through the sitting-room window, of the constables standing +in solemn row. Never were innocent members of committee of +notification more blissfully unconscious of what they had escaped. +They were blandly gazing at the Cap'n's curios ranged on mantel and +what-not. + +It was a snort from Constable Swanton that gave the alarm. Mr. Nute's +team was spinning away down the road, the wagon-wheels throwing slush +with a sort of fireworks effect. Cap'n Sproul, like most sailors, +was not a skilful driver, but he was an energetic one. The horse was +galloping. + +"He's bound for the town house before he's been notified officially," +stammered Mr. Swanton. + +"It ain't regular," said Constable Wade. + +Mr. Nute made no remark. He looked puzzled, but he acted promptly. +He found the front door locked and the kitchen door locked. But the +window-catches were on the inside, and he slammed up the nearest sash +and leaped out. The others followed. The pursuit was on as soon as +they could get to their wagons, Mr. Wade riding with the chief +constable. + +The town house of Smyrna is on the main road leading to the +railway-station. The constables, topping a hill an eighth of a mile +behind the fugitive, expected to see him turn in at the town house. +But he tore past, his horse still on the run, the wagon swaying wildly +as he turned the corner beyond the Merrithew sugar orchard. + +"Well, I swow," grunted Mr. Nute, and licked on. + +The usual crowd of horse-swappers was gathered in the town-house yard, +and beheld this tumultuous passage with professional interest. And, +recognizing the first selectman-elect of Smyrna, their interest had +an added flavor. + +Next came the two teams containing the constables, lashing past on +the run. They paid no attention to the amazed yells of inquiry from +the horse-swappers, and disappeared behind the sugar orchard. + +"You've got me!" said Uncle Silas Drake to the first out-rush of the +curious from the town house. In his amazement, Uncle Silas was still +holding to the patient nose of the horse whose teeth he had been +examining. "They went past like soft-soap slidin' down the suller +stairs, and that's as fur's I'm knowin'. But I want to remark, as +my personal opinion, that a first seeleckman of this town ought to +be 'tendin' to his duties made and pervided, instead of razooin' +hosses up and down in front of this house when town meetin' is goin' +on." + +One by one, voters, mumbling their amazement, unhitched their horses +and started along the highway in the direction the fugitives had +taken. It seemed to all that this case required to be investigated. +The procession whipped along briskly and noisily. + +Colonel Gideon Ward, returning from the railroad-station, where he +had been to order flat-cars for lumber, heard the distant clamor of +voices, and stood up in his tall cart to listen. At that instant, +around the bend of the road, twenty feet away, came a horse galloping +wildly. Colonel Ward was halted squarely in the middle of the way. +He caught an amazed glimpse of Cap'n Sproul trying to rein to one +side with unskilled hands, and then the wagons met. Colonel Ward's +wagon stood like a rock. The lighter vehicle, locking wheels, went +down with a crash, and Cap'n Sproul shot head-on over the dasher into +his brother-in-law's lap, as he crouched on his seat. + +The advantage was with Cap'n Sproul, for the Colonel was underneath. +Furthermore, Cap'n Sproul was thrice armed with the resolution of +a desperate man. Without an instant's hesitation he drew back, hit +Ward a few resounding buffets on either side of his head, and then +tossed the dizzied man out of his wagon into the roadside slush. An +instant later he had the reins, swung the frightened horse across +the gutter and around into the road, and continued his flight in the +direction of the railroad-station. + +The constables, leading the pursuing voters by a few lengths, found +Colonel Ward sitting up in the ditch and gaping in utter amazement +and dire wrath at the turn of the road where Cap'n Sproul had swept +out of sight. + +The wreck of the wagon halted them. + +"I s'pose you've jest seen our first selectman-elect pass this way, +haven't ye?" inquired Mr. Nute, with official conservatism. + +The Colonel had not yet regained his powers of speech. He jabbed with +bony finger in the direction of the railroad, and moved his jaws +voicelessly. Mr. Swanton descended from the wagon, helped him out +of the ditch, and began to stroke the slush from his garments with +mittened hand. As he still continued to gasp ineffectually, Mr. Nute +drove on, leaving him standing by the roadside. + +Cap'n Sproul was at bay on the station platform, feet braced +defiantly apart, hat on the back of his head, and desperate resolve +flaming from his eyes. + +"Don't ye git out of your wagon, Nute," he rasped. "It's been touch +and go once with the three of ye to-day. I could have killed ye like +sheep. Don't git in my way ag'in. Take warnin'! It's life or death, +and a few more don't make much difference to me now." + +The chief constable stared at him with bulging eyes. + +"I could have killed ye and I didn't," repeated the Cap'n. "Let that +show ye that I'm square till I have to be otherwise. But I'm a +desp'rit' man, Nute. I'm goin' to take that train." He brandished +his fist at a trail of smoke up behind the spruces. "Gawd pity the +man that gits in my way!" + +"Somethin' has happened to his mind all of a sudden," whispered Mr. +Wade. "He ought to be took care of till he gits over it. It would +be a pity and a shame to let a prominent man like that git away and +fall into the hands of strangers." + +"All of ye take warnin'," bawled the Cap'n to his townsmen, who were +crowding their wagons into the station square. + +Constable Zeburee Nute drove his whip into the socket, threw down +his reins, and stood up. The hollow hoot of the locomotive had sounded +up the track. + +"Feller citizens," he cried, "as chairman of the committee of +notification, I desire to report that I have 'tended to my duties +in so far as I could to date. But there has things happened that I +can't figger out, and for which I ain't responsible. There ain't no +time now for ifs, buts, or ands. That train is too near. A certain +prominunt citizen that I don't need to name is thinkin' of takin' +that train when he ain't fit to do so. There'll be time to talk it +over afterward." + +Cap'n Sproul was backing away to turn the corner of the station. + +"I call on all of ye as a posse," bawled Mr. Nute. "Bring along your +halters and don't use no vi'lence." + +Samson himself, even though his weapon had been the jaw-bone of a +megatherium, couldn't have resisted that onrush of the willing +populace. In five minutes, the Cap'n, trussed hand and foot, and +crowded in between Constables Nute and Wade, was riding back toward +Smyrna town house, helpless as a veal calf bound for market. + +"Now," resumed Mr. Nute, calmly, "now that you're with us, Cap'n, +and seem to be quieted down a little, I'll perceed to execute the +errunt put upon me as chairman of the notification committee." + +With Mr. Wade driving slowly, he read the newspaper clipping that +sounded the clarion call that summoned men of probity to public +office, and at the close formally notified Cap'n Sproul that he had +been elected first selectman of Smyrna. He did all this without +enthusiasm, and sighed with official relief when it was over. + +"And," he wound up, "it is the sentiment of this town that there ain't +another man in it so well qualified to lead us up out of the valley +of darkness where we've been wallerin'. We have called our +Cincinnatus to his duty." + +They had come around a bend of the road and now faced Colonel Ward, +stumping along stolidly through the slush, following the trail of +his team. + +"That's the way he ought to be," roared the Colonel. "Rope him up! +Put ox-chains on him. And I'll give a thousand dollars to build an +iron cage for him. You're all crazy and he's your head lunatic." + +Mr. Nute, inwardly, during all the time that he had been so calmly +addressing his captive, was tortured with cruel doubts as to the +Cap'n's sanity. But he believed in discharging his duty first. And +he remembered that insane people were more easily prevailed upon by +those who appeared to make no account of their whims. + +During it all, Cap'n Sproul had been silent in utter amazement. The +truth had come in a blinding flash that would have unsettled a man +not so well trained to control emotion. + +"Drive along," he curtly commanded Nute, paying no heed to the +incensed Colonel's railings. "You look me in the eye," he continued, +as soon as they were out of hearing. "Do you see any signs that I +am out of my head, or that I need these ropes on me?" + +"I can't say as I do," admitted the constable, after he had quailed +a bit under the keen, straightforward stare of the ex-mariner's hard, +gray eyes. + +"Take 'em off, then," directed the Cap'n, in tones of authority. And +when it was done, he straightened his hat, set back his shoulders, +and said: + +"Drive me to the town house where I was bound when that hoss of yours +run away with me." Mr. Nute stared at him wildly, and drove on. + +They were nearly to their destination before Constable Nute ventured +upon what his twisted brow and working lips testified he had been +pondering long. + +"It ain't that I'm tryin' to pry into your business, Cap'n Sproul, +nor anything of the kind, but, bein' a man that never intended to +do any harm to any one, I can't figger out what grudge you've got +against me. You said on the station platform that--" + +"Nute," said the Cap'n, briskly, "as I understand it, you never went +to sea, and you and the folks round here don't understand much about +sailormen, hey?" + +The constable shook his head. + +"Then don't try to find out much about 'em. You wouldn't understand. +The folks round here wouldn't understand. We have our ways. You have +your ways. Some of the things you do and some of the things you say +could be called names by me, providin' I wanted to be disagreeable +and pick flaws. All men in this world are different--especially +sailormen from them that have always lived inshore. We've got to take +our feller man as we find him." + +They were in the town-house yard--a long procession of teams +following. + +"And by-the-way, Nute," bawled the Cap'n, from the steps of the +building as he was going in, using his best sea tones so that all +might hear, "it was the fault of your horse that he run away, and +you ought to be prosecuted for leavin' such an animile 'round where +a sailorman that ain't used to hosses could get holt of him. But I'm +always liberal about other folks' faults. Bring in your bill for the +wagon." + +Setting his teeth hard, he walked upon the platform of the town-hall, +and faced the voters with such an air of authority and such +self-possession that they cheered him lustily. And then, with an +intrepidity that filled his secret heart with amazement as he talked, +he made the first real speech of his life--a speech of acceptance. + +"Yes, s'r, it was a speech, Louada Murilla," he declared that evening, +as he sat again in their sitting-room with his stockinged feet to +the blaze of the Franklin. "I walked that platform like it was a +quarter-deck, and my line of talk run jest as free as a britches-buoy +coil. And when I got done, they was up on the settees howlin' for +me. If any man came back into that town-house thinkin' I was a lunatic +on account of what happened to-day, they got a diff'runt notion +before I got done. Why, they all come 'round and shook my hand, and +said they must have been crazy to tackle a prominunt citizen that +way on the word of old Nute. It must have been a great speech I made. +They all said so." + +He relighted his pipe. + +"What did you say, Aaron?" eagerly asked his wife. "Repeat it over." + +He smoked awhile. + +"Louada Murilla," he said, "when I walked onto that platform my heart +was goin' like a donkey-engine workin' a winch, there was a +sixty-mile gale blowin' past my ears, and a fog-bank was front of +my eyes. And when the sun came out ag'in and it cleared off, the +moderator was standin' there shaking my hand and tellin' me what a +speech it was. It was a speech that had to be made. They had to be +bluffed. But as to knowin' a word of what I said, why, I might jest +as well try to tell you what the mermaid said when the feller brought +her stockin's for her birthday present. + +"The only thing that I can remember about that speech," he resumed, +after a pause, and she gazed on him hopefully, "is that your brother +Gideon busted into the town house and tried to break up my speech +by tellin' 'em I was a lunatic. I ordered the constables to put him +out." + +"Did they?" she asked, with solicitude. + +"No," he replied, rubbing his nose, reflectively. "'Fore the +constables got to him, the boys took holt and throwed him out of the +window. I reckon he's come to a realizin' sense by this time that +the town don't want him for selectman." + +He rapped out the ashes and put the pipe on the hearth of the Franklin. + +"I'm fair about an enemy, Louada Murilla, and I kind of hate to rub +it into Gideon. But now that I'm on this bluff about what happened +to-day, I've got to work it to a finish. I'm goin' to sue Gid for +obstructin' the ro'd and smashin' Nute's wagon, and then jumpin' out +and leavin' me to be run away with. The idea is, there are some fine +touches needed in lyin' out of that part of the scrape, and, as the +first selectman of Smyrna, I can't afford to take chances and depend +on myself, and be showed up. I don't hold any A.B. certificate when +it comes to lyin'. So for them fancy touches, I reckon I'll have to +break my usual rule and hire a lawyer." + +He rose and yawned. + +"Is the cat put out, Louada?" + +And when she had replied in the affirmative, he said: + +"Seein' it has been quite a busy day, let's go to bed." + + + + +IX + + +Mrs. Hiram Look, lately "Widder Snell," appearing as plump, radiant, +and roseate as a bride in her honeymoon should appear--her color +assisted by the caloric of a cook-stove in June--put her head out +of the buttery window and informed the inquiring Cap'n Aaron Sproul +that Hiram was out behind the barn. + +"Married life seems still to be agreein' with all concerned," +suggested Cap'n Sproul, quizzically. "Even that flour on your nose +is becomin'." + +"Go 'long, you old rat!" tittered Mrs. Look. "Better save all your +compliments for your own wife!" + +"Oh, I tell her sweeter things than that," replied the Cap'n, +serenely. With a grin under his beard, he went on toward the barn. + +Smyrna gossips were beginning to comment, with more or less spite, +on the sudden friendship between their first selectman and Hiram Look, +since Look--once owner of a road circus--had retired from the road, +had married his old love, and had settled down on the Snell farm. +Considering the fact that the selectman and showman had bristled at +each other like game-cocks the first time they met, Smyrna wondered +at the sudden effusion of affection that now kept them trotting back +and forth on almost daily visits to each other. + +Batson Reeves, second selectman of Smyrna, understood better than +most of the others. It was on him as a common anvil that the two of +them had pounded their mutual spite cool. Hiram, suddenly +reappearing with a plug hat and a pet elephant, after twenty years +of wandering, had won promptly the hand of Widow Snell, _nee_ Amanda +Purkis, whose self and whose acres Widower Reeves was just ready to +annex. And Hiram had thereby partially satisfied the old boyhood +grudge planted deep in his stormy temper when Batson Reeves had +broken up the early attachment between Hiram Look and Amanda Purkis. +As for First Selectman Sproul, hot in his fight with Reeves for +official supremacy, his league with Hiram, after an initial combat +to try spurs, was instant and cordial as soon as he had understood +a few things about the showman's character and purpose. + +"Birds of a feather!" gritted Reeves, in his confidences with his +intimates. "An' old turkle-back of a sea-capt'in runnin' things in +this town 'fore he's been here two years, jest 'cause he's got cheek +enough and thutty thousand dollars--and now comes that old gas-bag +with a plug hat on it, braggin' of his own thutty thousand dollars, +and they hitch up! Gawd help Smyrna, that's all I say!" + +And yet, had all the spiteful eyes in Smyrna peered around the corner +of the barn on that serene June forenoon, they must have softened +just a bit at sight of the placid peace of it all. + +The big doors were rolled back, and "Imogene," the ancient elephant +whose fond attachment to Hiram had preserved her from the +auction-block, bent her wrinkled front to the soothing sunshine and +"weaved" contentedly on her slouchy legs. She was watching her master +with the thorough appreciation of one who has understood and loved +the "sportin' life." + +Hiram was in shirt-sleeves and bareheaded, his stringy hair combed +over his bald spot. His long-tailed coat and plug hat hung from a +wooden peg on the side of the barn. In front of him was a loose square +of burlap, pegged to the ground at one edge, its opposite edge nailed +to the barn, and sloping at an angle of forty-five degrees. + +As Cap'n Sproul rounded the corner Hiram had just tossed a rooster +in the air over the burlap. The bird came down flapping its wings; +its legs stuck out stiffly. When it struck the rude net it bounded +high, and came down again, and continued its grotesque hornpipe until +it finally lost its spring. + +"I'm only givin' P.T. Barnum his leg-exercise," said Hiram, +recovering the rooster and sticking him under one arm while he shook +hands with his caller. "I don't expect to ever match him again in +this God-forsaken country, but there's some comfort in keepin' him +in trainin'. Pinch them thighs, Cap'n! Ain't they the wickin'?" + +"I sh'd hate to try to eat 'em," said the Cap'n, gingerly poking his +stubby finger against the rooster's leg. + +"Eat 'em!" snapped the showman, raking the horns of his long mustache +irritably away from his mouth. "You talk like the rest of these +farmers round here that never heard of a hen bein' good for anything +except to lay eggs and be et for a Thanksgivin' dinner." He held the +rooster a-straddle his arm, his broad hand on its back, and shook +him under the Cap'n's nose. "I've earnt more'n a thousand dollars +with P.T.--and that's a profit in the hen business that all the +condition powders this side of Tophet couldn't fetch." + +"A thousand dollars!" echoed Cap'n Sproul, stuffing his pipe. He +gazed at P.T. with new interest. "He must have done some fightin' +in his day." + +"Fight!" cried the showman. He tossed the rooster upon the burlap +once more. "Fight! Look at that leg action! That's the best +yaller-legged, high-station game-cock that ever pecked his way out +of a shell. I've taken all comers 'twixt Hoorah and Hackenny, and +he ain't let me down yet. Look at them brad-awls of his!" + +"Mebbe all so, but I don't like hens, not for a minit," growled the +first selectman, squinting sourly through his tobacco-smoke at the +dancing fowl. + +Hiram got a saucer from a shelf inside the barn and set it on the +ground. + +"Eat your chopped liver, P.T.," he commanded; "trainin' is over." + +He relighted his stub of cigar and bent proud gaze on the bird. + +"No, sir," pursued the Cap'n, "I ain't got no use for a hen unless +it's settin', legs up, on a platter, and me with a carvin'-knife." + +"Always felt that way?" inquired Hiram. + +"Not so much as I have sence I've been tryin' to start my garden this +spring. As fur back as the time I was gittin' the seed in, them hens +of Widder Sidene Pike, that lives next farm to mine, began their +hellishness, with that old wart-legged ostrich of a rooster of her'n +to lead 'em. They'd almost peck the seeds out of my hand, and the +minit I'd turn my back they was over into that patch, right foot, +left foot, kick heel and toe, and swing to pardners--and you couldn't +see the sun for dirt. And at every rake that rooster lifts soil enough +to fill a stevedore's coal-bucket." + +"Why don't you shoot 'em?" advised Hiram, calmly. + +"Me--the first s'lectman of this town out poppin' off a widder's +hens? That would be a nice soundin' case when it got into court, +wouldn't it?" + +"Get into court first and sue her," advised the militant Hiram. + +"I donno as I've ever said it to you, but I've al'ays said it to close +friends," stated the Cap'n, earnestly, "that there are only three +things on earth I'm afraid of, and them are: pneumony, bein' struck +by lightnin', and havin' a land-shark git the law on me. There ain't +us'ly no help for ye." + +He sighed and smoked reflectively. Then his face hardened. + +"There's grown to be more to it lately than the hen end. Have you +heard that sence Bat Reeves got let down by she that was Widder +Snell"--he nodded toward the house--"he has been sort of caught on +the bounce, as ye might say, by the Widder Pike? Well, bein' her close +neighbor, I know it's so. And, furdermore, the widder's told my wife, +bein' so tickled over ketchin' him that she couldn't hold it to +herself. Now, for the last week, every time that old red-gilled +dirt-walloper has led them hens into my garden, I've caught Bat +Reeves peekin' around the corner of the widder's house watchin' 'em. +If there's any such thing as a man bein' able to talk human language +to a rooster, and put sin and Satan into him, Reeves is doin' it. +But what's the good of my goin' and lickin' him? It'll mean law. +That's what he's lookin' for--and him with that old gandershanked +lawyer for a brother! See what they done to you!" + +Hiram's eyes grew hard, and he muttered irefully. For cuffing Batson +Reeves off the Widow Snell's door-step he had paid a fat fine, +assessed for the benefit of the assaulted, along with liberal costs +allowed to Squire Alcander Reeves. + +"They can't get any of my money that way," pursued the Cap'n. "I'd +pay suthin' for the privilege of drawin' and quarterin' him, but a +plain lickin' ain't much object. A lickin' does him good." + +"And it's so much ready money for that skunk," added the showman. +He cocked his head to one side to avoid his cigar smoke, and stared +down on P.T. pecking the last scraps of raw liver from the saucer. + +"I understand you to say, do I," resumed Hiram, "that he is shooing +them hens--or, at least, condonin' their comin' down into your garden +ev'ry day?" + +"I run full half a mile jest before I came acrost to see you, chasin' +'em out," said the Cap'n, gloomily, "and I'll bet they was back in +there before I got to the first bars on my way over here." + +P.T., feeling the stimulus of the liver, crooked his neck and crowed +spiritedly. Then he scratched the side of his head with one toe, shook +himself, and squatted down contentedly in the sun. + +"In the show business," said Hiram, "when I found a feller with a +game that I could play better 'n him, I was always willin' to play +his game." He stuck up his hand with the fingers spread like a fan, +and began to check items. "A gun won't do, because it's a widder's +hens; a fight won't do, because it's Bat Reeves; law won't do, because +he's got old heron-legged Alcander right in his family. Now this +thing is gittin' onto your sperits, and I can see it!" + +"It is heiferin' me bad," admitted the Cap'n. "It ain't so much the +hens--though Gawd knows I hate a hen bad enough--but it's Bat Reeves +standin' up there grinnin' and watchin' me play tag-you're-it with +Old Scuff-and-kick and them female friends of his. For a man that's +dreamed of garden-truck jest as he wants it, and never had veg'tables +enough in twenty years of sloshin' round the world on shipboard, it's +about the most cussed, aggravatin' thing I ever got against. And +there I am! Swear and chase--and northin' comin' of it!" + +Hiram clenched his cigar more firmly in his teeth, leaned over +carefully, and picked up the recumbent P.T. + +He tucked the rooster under his arm and started off. + +"Let's go 'crost back lots," he advised. "What people don't see and +don't know about won't hurt 'em, and that includes your wife and mine. + +"It won't be no kind of a hen-fight, you understand," Hiram chatted +as they walked, "'cause that compost-heap scratcher won't last so +long as old Brown stayed in heaven. For P.T., here, it will be jest +bristle, shuffle, one, two--brad through each eye, +and--'Cock-a-doodle-doo!' All over! But it will give you a chance +to see some of his leg-work, and a touch or two of his fancy +spurrin'--and then you can take old Sculch-scratcher by the legs and +hold him up and inform Bat Reeves that he can come and claim property. +It's his own game--and we're playin' it! There ain't any chance for +law where one rooster comes over into another rooster's yard and gets +done up. Moral: Keep roosters in where the lightnin' won't strike +'em." + +When they topped Hickory Hill they had a survey of Cap'n Sproul's +acres. Here and there on the brown mould of his garden behind the +big barn were scattered yellow and gray specks. + +"There they be, blast 'em to fury!" growled the Cap'n. + +His eyes then wandered farther, as though seeking something familiar, +and he clutched the showman's arm as they walked along. + +"And there's Bat Reeves's gray hoss hitched in the widder's +dooryard." + +"Mebbe he'll wait and have fricasseed rooster for dinner," suggested +Hiram, grimly. "That's all his rooster'll be good for in fifteen +minutes." + +"It would be the devil and repeat for us if the widder's rooster +should lick--and Bat Reeves standin' and lookin' on," suggested the +Cap'n, bodingly. + +Hiram stopped short, looked this faltering faint-heart all over from +head to heel with withering scorn, and demanded: "Ain't you got +sportin' blood enough to know the difference between a high-station +game-cock and that old bow-legged Mormon down there scratchin' your +garden-seeds?" + +"Well," replied the Cap'n, rather surlily, "I ain't to blame for what +I don't know about, and I don't know about hens, and I don't want +to know. But I do know that he's more'n twice as big as your rooster, +and he's had exercise enough in my garden this spring to be more'n +twice as strong. All is, don't lay it to me not warnin' you, if you +lose your thousand-dollar hen!" + +"Don't you wear your voice out tryin' to tell me about my business +in the hen-fightin' line," snapped the showman, fondly "huggling" +P.T. more closely under his arm. "This is where size don't count. +It's skill. There won't be enough to call it a scrap." + +They made a detour through the Sproul orchard to avoid possible +observation by Louada Murilla, the Cap'n's wife, and by so doing +showed themselves plainly to any one who might be looking that way +from the widow's premises. This was a part of the showman's plan. +He hoped to attract Reeves's attention. He did. They saw him peering +under his palm from the shed door, evidently suspecting that this +combination of his two chief foes meant something sinister. He came +out of the shed and walked down toward the fence when he saw them +headed for the garden. + +"Watchin' out for evidence in a law case, probably," growled Cap'n +Sproul, the fear of onshore artfulness ever with him. "He'd ruther +law it any time than have a fair fight, man to man, and that's the +kind of a critter I hate." + +"The widder's lookin' out of the kitchen winder," Hiram announced, +"and I'm encouraged to think that mebbe he'll want to shine a little +as her protector, and will come over into the garden to save her hen. +Then will be your time. He'll be trespassin', and I'll be your witness. +Go ahead and baste the stuffin' out of him." + +He squatted down at the edge of the garden-patch, holding the +impatient P.T. between his hands. + +"Usually in a reg'lar match I scruffle his feathers and blow in his +eye, Cap'n, but I won't have to do it this time. It's too easy a +proposition. I'm jest tellin' you about it so that if you ever git +interested in fightin' hens after this, you'll be thankful to me for +a pointer or two." + +"I won't begin to take lessons yet a while," the Cap'n grunted. "It +ain't in my line." + +Hiram tossed his feathered gladiator out upon the garden mould. + +"S-s-s-s-! Eat him up, boy!" he commanded. + +P.T. had his eye on the foe, but, with the true instinct of sporting +blood, he would take no unfair advantage by stealthy advance on the +preoccupied scratcher. He straddled, shook out his glossy ruff, and +crowed shrilly. + +The other rooster straightened up from his agricultural labors, and +stared at this lone intruder on his family privacy. He was a tall, +rakish-looking fowl, whose erect carriage and lack of tail-feathers +made him look like a spindle-shanked urchin as he towered there among +the busy hens. + +In order that there might be no mistake as to his belligerent +intentions, P.T. crowed again. + +The other replied with a sort of croupy hoarseness. + +"Sounds like he was full to the neck with your garden-seeds," +commented Hiram. "Well, he won't ever eat no more, and that's +something to be thankful for." + +The game-cock, apparently having understood the word to come on, +tiptoed briskly across the garden. The other waited his approach, +craning his long neck and twisting his head from side to side. + +Reeves was now at the fence. + +"I'll bet ye ten dollars," shouted Hiram, "that down goes your hen +the first shuffle." + +"You will, hey?" bawled Reeves, sarcastically. "Say, you didn't +bring them three shells and rubber pea that you used to make your +livin' with, did ye?" + +The old showman gasped, and his face grew purple. "I licked him twenty +years ago for startin' that lie about me," he said, bending blazing +glance on the Cap'n. "Damn the expense! I'm goin' over there and kill +him!" + +"Wait till your rooster kills his, and then take the remains and bat +his brains out with 'em," advised the Cap'n, swelling with equal +wrath. "Look! He's gettin' at him!" + +P.T. put his head close to the ground, his ring of neck-feathers +glistening in the sun, then darted forward, rising in air as he did +so. The other rooster, who had been awaiting his approach, stiffly +erect, ducked to one side, and the game-cock went hurtling past. + +"Like rooster, like master!" Hiram yelled, savagely. "He's a coward. +Why don't he run and git your brother, Alcander, to put P.T. under +bonds to keep the peace? Yah-h-h-h! You're all cowards." + +The game-cock, accustomed to meet the bravery of true champions of +the pit, stood for a little while and stared at this shifty foe. He +must have decided that he was dealing with a poltroon with whom +science and prudence were not needed. He stuck out his neck and ran +at Long-legs, evidently expecting that Long-legs would turn and flee +in a panic. Long-legs jumped to let him pass under, and came down +on the unwary P.T. with the crushing force of his double bulk. The +splay feet flattened the game-cock to the ground, and, while he lay +there helpless, this victor-by-a-fluke began to peck and tear at his +head and comb in a most brutal and unsportsmanlike manner. + +With a hoarse howl of rage and concern, Hiram rushed across the garden, +the dirt flying behind him. The hens squawked and fled, and the +conqueror, giving one startled look at the approaching vengeance, +abandoned his victim, and closed the line of retreat over the fence. + +"He didn't git at his eyes," shouted Hiram, grabbing up his champion +from the dirt, "but"--making hasty survey of the bleeding head--"but +the jeebingoed cannibal has et one gill and pretty near pecked his +comb off. It wa'n't square! It wa'n't square!" he bellowed, advancing +toward the fence where Reeves was leaning. "Ye tried to kill a +thousand-dollar bird by a skin-game, and I'll have it out of your +hide." + +Reeves pulled a pole out of the fence. + +"Don't ye come across here," he gritted. "I'll brain ye! It was your +own rooster-fight. You put it up. You got licked. What's the matter +with you?" A grin of pure satisfaction curled under his beard. + +"You never heard of true sport. You don't know what it means. He stood +on him and started to eat him. All he thinks of is eatin' up something. +It wa'n't fair." Hiram caressed the bleeding head of P.T. with +quivering hand. + +"Fair!" sneered Reeves. "You're talkin' as though this was a +prize-fight for the championship of the world! My--I mean, Mis' +Pike's rooster licked, didn't he? Well, when a rooster's licked, he's +licked, and there ain't nothin' more to it." + +"That's your idee of sport, is it?" demanded Hiram, stooping to wipe +his bloody hand on the grass. + +"It's my idee of a rooster-fight," retorted Reeves. In his triumph +he was not unwilling to banter repartee with the hateful Hiram. "You +fellers with what you call sportin' blood"--he sneered the +words--"come along and think nobody else can't do anything right but +you. You fetch along cat-meat with feathers on it"--he pointed at +the vanquished P.T.--"and expect it to stand any show with a real +fighter." Now he pointed to the Widow Pike's rooster sauntering away +with his harem about him. "He ain't rid' around with a circus nor +followed the sportin' life, and he's al'ays lived in the country and +minded his own business, but he's good for a whole crateful of your +sportin' blooders--and so long as he licks, it don't make no +difference how he does it." + +The personal reference in this little speech was too plain for Hiram +to disregard. + +His hard eyes narrowed, and hatred of this insolent countryman blazed +there. The countryman glared back with just as fierce bitterness. + +"Mebbe you've got money to back your opinion of Widder Pike's hen +there?" suggested the showman. "Money's the only thing that seems +to interest you, and you don't seem to care how you make it." + +Reeves glanced from the maimed P.T., gasping on Hiram's arm, to the +victorious champion who had defeated this redoubtable bird so easily. +His Yankee shrewdness told him that the showman had undoubtedly +produced his best for this conflict; his Yankee cupidity hinted that +by taking advantage of Hiram's present flustered state of mind he +might turn a dollar. He glanced from Hiram to Cap'n Sproul, standing +at one side, and said with careless superiority: + +"Make your talk!" + +"I've got five hundred that says I've got the best hen." + +"There ain't goin' to be no foolishness about rules and sport, and +hitchin' and hawin', is there? It's jest hen that counts!" + +"Jest hen!" Hiram set his teeth hard. + +"Five hundred it is," agreed Reeves. "But I need a fortni't to collect +in some that's due me. Farmin' ain't such ready-money as the circus +bus'ness." + +"Take your fortni't! And we'll settle place later. And that's all, +'cause it makes me sick to stand anywhere within ten feet of you." + +Hiram strode away across the fields, his wounded gladiator on his +arm. + +And, as it was near dinner-time, Cap'n Sproul trudged into his own +house, his mien thoughtful and his air subdued. + +On his next visit to Hiram, the Cap'n didn't know which was the most +preoccupied--the showman sitting in the barn door at Imogene's feet, +or the battered P.T. propped disconsolately on one leg. Both were +gazing at the ground with far-away stare, and Hiram was not much more +conversational than the rooster. + +The next day Hiram drove into the Sproul dooryard and called out the +Cap'n, refusing to get out of his wagon. + +"I shall be away a few days--mebbe more, mebbe less. I leave time +and place to you." And he slashed at his horse and drove away. + + + + +X + + +It was certainly a queer place that Cap'n Sproul decided upon after +several days of rumination. His own abstraction during that time, +and the unexplained absence of Hiram, the bridegroom of a month, an +absence that was prolonged into a week, caused secret tears and +apprehensive imaginings in both households. + +Hiram came back, mysterious as the Sphinx. + +Cap'n Sproul arranged for a secret meeting of the principals behind +his barn, and announced his decision as to place. + +"The poor-farm!" both snorted in unison. "What--" + +"Hold right on!" interrupted the Cap'n, holding up his broad palms; +"it can't be in _his_ barn on account of his wife; it can't be in +_my_ barn on account of my wife. Both of 'em are all wrought up and +suspectin' somethin'. Some old pick-ed nose in this place is bound +to see us if we try to sneak away into the woods. Jim Wixon, the +poor-farm keeper, holds his job through me. He's square, straight, +and minds his own business. I can depend on him. He'll hold the stakes. +There ain't another man in town we can trust. There ain't a place +as safe as the poor-farm barn. Folks don't go hangin' round a +poor-farm unless they have to. It's for there the ev'nin' before the +Fourth. Agree, or count me out. The first selectman of this town can't +afford to take too many chances, aidin' and abettin' a hen-fight." + +Therefore there was nothing else for it. The principals accepted +sullenly, and went their ways. + +The taciturnity of Hiram Look was such during the few days before +the meeting that Cap'n Sproul regretfully concluded to keep to his +own hearthstone. Hiram seemed to be nursing a secret. The Cap'n felt +hurt, and admitted as much to himself in his musings. + +He went alone to the rendezvous at early dusk. Keeper Wixon, of the +poor-farm, had the big floor of the barn nicely swept, had hung +lanterns about on the wooden harness-pegs, and was in a state of great +excitement and impatience. + +Second Selectman Reeves came first, lugging his crate from his +beach-wagon. The crate held the Widow Pike's rooster. His nomination +had his head up between the slats, and was crowing regularly and +raucously. + +"Choke that dam fog-horn off!" commanded the Cap'n. "What are ye +tryin' to do, advertise this sociable?" + +"You talk like I was doin' that crowin' myself," returned Reeves, +sulkily. "And nobody ain't goin' to squat his wizen and git him out +of breath. Hands off, and a fair show!" + +Hiram Look was no laggard at the meeting. He rumbled into the yard +on the box of one of his animal cages, pulled out a huge bag containing +something that kicked and wriggled, and deposited his burden on the +barn floor. + +"Now," said he, brusquely, "business before pleasure! You've got the +stakes, eh, Wixon?" + +"In my wallet here--a thousand dollars," replied the keeper, a little +catch in his voice at thought of the fortune next his anxious heart. + +"And the best hen takes the money; no flummery, no filigree!" put +in Reeves. + +Hiram was kneeling beside his agitated bag, and was picking at the +knots in its fastening. "This will be a hen-fight served up Smyrna +style," he said, grimly. "And, as near as I can find out, that style +is mostly--scrambled!" + +"I've got a favor to ask," stammered Wixon, hesitatingly. "It don't +mean much to you, but it means a good deal to others. Bein' penned +up on a poor-farm, with nothin' except three meals a day to take up +your mind, is pretty tough on them as have seen better days. I'll +leave it to Cap'n Sproul, here, if I ain't tried to put a little +kindness and human feelin' into runnin' this place, and--" + +Hiram was untying the last knot. "Spit out what you're drivin' at," +he cried bluntly; "this ain't no time for sideshow barkin'. The big +show is about to begin." + +"I want to invite in the boys," blurted Wixon. And when they blinked +at him amazedly, he said: + +"The five old fellers that's here, I mean. They're safe and mum, and +they're jest dyin' for a little entertainment, and it's only kindness +to them that's unfortunate, if you--" + +"What do you think this is, a livin'-picture show got up to amuse +a set of droolin' old paupers?" demanded Hiram, with heat. + +"Well, as it is, they suspect suthin'," persisted Wixon. "All they +have to do to pass time is to suspect and projick on what's goin' +on and what's goin' to happen. If you'll let me bring 'em, I can shet +their mouths. If they don't come in, they're goin' to suspect suthin' +worse than what it is--and that's only human natur'--and not to blame +for it." + +The two selectmen protested, official alarm in their faces, but Hiram +suddenly took the keeper's side, after the manner of his impetuous +nature, and after he had shrewdly noted that Reeves seemed to be most +alarmed. + +"I'm the challenger," he roared. "I've got something to say. Bring +'em, Wixon. Let 'em have a taste of fun. I may wind up on the poor-farm +myself. Bring 'em in. There's prob'ly more sportin' blood in the +paupers of this town than in the citizens. Bring 'em in, and let's +have talkin' done with." + +In a suspiciously short time Wixon led in his charges--five hobbling +old men, all chewing tobacco and looking wondrously interested. + +"There!" said Hiram, an appreciative glint in his eyes. "Nothin' like +havin' an audience, even if they did come in on passes. I've never +given a show before empty benches yet. And now, gents"--the old +spirit of the "barker" entered into him--"you are about to behold +a moral and elevatin' exhibition of the wonders of natur'. I have +explored the jungles of Palermo, the hills of Peru Corners, the +valleys of North Belgrade, never mindin' time and expense, and I've +got something that beats the wild boy Tom and his little sister Mary. +Without takin' more of your valuable time, I will now present to your +attention"--he tore open the bag--"Cap'n Kidd, the Terror of the +Mountains." + +The wagging jaws of the old paupers stopped as if petrified. Keeper +Wixon peered under his hand and retreated a few paces. Even doughty +Cap'n Sproul, accustomed to the marvels of land and sea, snapped his +eyes. As for Reeves, he gasped "Great gorlemity!" under his breath, +and sat down on the edge of his crate, as though his legs had given +out. + +The creature that rose solemnly up from the billowing folds of the +bagging had a head as smooth and round as a door-knob, dangling, +purple wattles under its bill, and breast of a sanguinary red, picked +clean of feathers. There were not many feathers on the fowl, anyway. +Its tail was merely a spreading of quills like spikes. It was propped +on legs like stilts, and when it stretched to crow it stood up as +tall as a yard-stick. + +"Let out your old doostrabulus, there!" Hiram commanded. + +"That ain't no hen," wailed his adversary. + +"It's got two legs, a bill, and a place for tail-feathers, and that's +near enough to a hen for fightin' purposes in this town--accordin' +to what I've seen of the sport here," insisted the showman. "The +principal hen-fightin' science in Smyrna seems to be to stand on t' +other hen and peck him to pieces! Well, Reeves, Cap'n Kidd there ain't +got so much pedigree as some I've owned, but as a stander and pecker +I'm thinkin' he'll give a good, fair account of himself." + +"It's a gum-game," protested Reeves, agitatedly, "and I ain't goin' +to fight no ostrich nor hen-hawk." + +"Then I'll take the stakes without further wear or tear," said Hiram. +"Am I right, boys?" A unanimous chorus indorsed him. "And this here +is something that I reckon ye won't go to law about," the showman +went on, ominously, "even if you have got a lawyer in the family. +You ketch, don't you?" + +The unhappy second selectman realized his situation, sighed, and +pried a slat off the crate. His nomination was more sanguine than +he. The rooster hopped upon the crate, crowed, and stalked out onto +the barn floor with a confidence that made Reeves perk up courage +a bit. + +Cap'n Kidd showed abstraction rather than zeal. He was busily engaged +in squinting along his warty legs, and at last detected two or three +objects that were annoying him. He picked them off leisurely. Then +he ran his stiff and scratchy wing down his leg, yawned, and seemed +bored. + +When the other rooster ran across and pecked him viciously on his +red expanse of breast, he cocked his head sideways and looked down +wonderingly on this rude assailant. Blood trickled from the wound, +and Reeves giggled nervously. Cap'n Sproul muttered something and +looked apprehensive, but Hiram, his eyes hard and his lips set, +crouched at the side of the floor, and seemed to be waiting +confidently. + +Widow Pike's favorite stepped back, rapped his bill on the floor +several times, and then ran at his foe once more. A second trail of +blood followed his blow. This time the unknown ducked his knobby head +at the attacker. It looked like a blow with a slung-shot. But it +missed, and Reeves tittered again. + +"Fly up and peck his eye out, Pete!" he called, cheerily. + +It is not likely that Peter understood this adjuration, +notwithstanding Cap'n Sproul's gloomy convictions on that score in +the past. But, apparently having tested the courage of this enemy, +he changed his tactics, leaped, and flew at Cap'n Kidd with spurring +feet. + +Then it happened! + +It happened almost before the little group of spectators could gasp. + +Cap'n Kidd threw himself back on the bristling spines of his tail, +both claws off the floor. Peter's spurring feet met only empty air, +and he fell on the foe. + +Foe's splay claws grabbed him around the neck and clutched him like +a vise, shutting off his last, startled squawk. Then Cap'n Kidd +darted forward that knobby head with its ugly beak, and tore off +Peter's caput with one mighty wrench. + +"'Tain't fair! It's jest as I said it was! 'Tain't square!" screamed +Reeves. + +But Hiram strode forward, snapping authoritative fingers under +Wixon's nose. "Hand me that money!" he gritted, and Wixon, his eyes +on the unhappy bird writhing in Cap'n Kidd's wicked grasp, made no +demur. The showman took it, even as the maddened Reeves was clutching +for the packet, tucked it into his breast pocket, and drove the second +selectman back with a mighty thrust of his arm. The selectman +stumbled over the combatants and sat down with a shock that clicked +his teeth. Cap'n Kidd fled from under, and flew to a high beam. + +"He ain't a hen!" squalled Reeves. + +At that moment the barn door was opened from the outside, and through +this exit Cap'n Kidd flapped with hoarse cries, whether of triumph +or fright no one could say. + +The lanterns' light shone on Widow Sidenia Pike, her face white from +the scare "Cap'n Kidd's" rush past her head had given her, but with +determination written large in her features. + +She gazed long at Reeves, sitting on the floor beside the defunct +rooster. She pointed an accusatory finger at it. + +"Mr. Reeves," she said, "you've been lyin' to me two weeks, tryin' +to buy that rooster that I wouldn't sell no more'n I'd sell my first +husband's gravestun'. And when you couldn't git it by lyin', you +stole it off'm the roost to-night. And to make sure there won't be +any more lies, I've followed you right here to find out the truth. +Now what does this mean?" + +There was a soulful pause. + +"Lie in small things, lie in big!" she snapped. "I reckon I've found +ye out for a missabul thing!" + +Hiram, standing back in the shadows, nudged Cap'n Sproul beside him, +and wagged his head toward the open door. They went out on tiptoe. + +"If he wants to lie some more, our bein' round might embarrass him," +whispered Hiram. "I never like to embarrass a man when he's +down--and--and her eyes was so much on Reeves and the rooster I don't +believe she noticed us. And what she don't know won't hurt her none. +But"--he yawned--"I shouldn't be a mite surprised if another one of +Bat Reeves's engagements was busted in this town. He don't seem to +have no luck at all in marryin' farms with the wimmen throwed in." +The Cap'n didn't appear interested in Reeves's troubles. His eyes +were searching the dim heavens. + +"What do you call that thing you brought in the bag?" he demanded. + +"Blamed if I know!" confessed Hiram, climbing upon his chariot. "And +I'm pretty well up on freaks, too, as a circus man ought to be. I +jest went out huntin' for suthin' to fit in with the sportin' blood +as I found it in this place--and I reckon I got it! Mebbe 'twas a +cassowary, mebbe 'twas a dodo--the man himself didn't know--said +even the hen that hatched it didn't seem to know. 'Pologized to me +for asking me two dollars for it, and I gave him five. I hope it will +go back where it come from. It hurt my eyes to look at it. But it +was a good bargain!" He patted his breast pocket. + +"Come over to-morrow," he called to the Cap'n as he drove away. "I +sha'n't have so much on my mind, and I'll be a little more sociable! +Listen to that bagpipe selection!" + +Behind them they heard the whining drone of a man's pleading voice +and a woman's shrill, insistent tones, a monotony of sound flowing +on--and on--and on! + + + + +XI + + +The president of the "Smyrna Agricultural Fair and Gents' Driving +Association" had been carrying something on his mind throughout the +meeting of the trustees of the society--the last meeting before the +date advertised for the fair. And now, not without a bit of +apprehensiveness, he let it out. + +"I've invited the Honer'ble J. Percival Bickford to act as the +starter and one of the judges of the races," he announced. + +Trustee Silas Wallace, superintendent of horses, had put on his hat. +Now he took it off again. + +"What!" he almost squalled. + +"You see," explained the president, with eager conciliatoriness, +"we've only got to scratch his back just a little to have him--" + +"Why, 'Kittle-belly' Bickford don't know no more about hoss-trottin' +than a goose knows about the hard-shell Baptist doctrine," raved +Wallace, his little eyes popping like marbles. + +"I don't like to hear a man that's done so much for his native town +called by any such names," retorted the president, ready to show +temper himself, to hide his embarrassment. "He's come back here +and--" + +Trustee Wallace now stood up and cracked his bony knuckles on the +table, his weazened face puckered with angry ridges. + +"I don't need to have a printed catalogue of what Jabe Bickford has +done for this town. And I don't need to be told what he's done it +for. He's come back from out West, where he stole more money than +he knew what to do with, and--" + +"I protest!" cried President Thurlow Kitchen. "When you say that the +Honer'ble J. Percival Bickford has stolen--" + +"Well, promoted gold-mines, then! It's only more words to say the +same thing. And he's back here spendin' his loose change for daily +doses of hair-oil talk fetched to him by the beggin' old suckers of +this place." + +"I may be a beggin' old sucker," flared the president, "but I've had +enterprise enough and interest in this fair enough to get Mr. +Bickford to promise us a present of a new exhibition hall, and it's +only right to extend some courtesy to him in return." + +"It was all right to make him president of the lib'ry association +when he built the lib'ry, make him a deacon when he gave the organ +for the meetin'-house, give him a banquet and nineteen speeches +tellin' him he was the biggest man on earth when he put the stone +watering-trough in--all that was all right for them that thought it +was all right. But when you let 'Kittle-belly' Bickford--" + +"Don't you call him that," roared President Kitchen, thumping the +table. + +"Duke, then! Dammit, crown him lord of all! But when you let him hang +that pod of his out over the rail of that judges' stand and bust up +a hoss-trot programmy that I've been three months gettin' entries +for--and all jest so he can show off a white vest and a plug hat and +a new gold stop-watch and have the band play 'Hail to the Chief'--I +don't stand for it--no, sir!" + +"The trouble is with you," retorted the president with spirit, +"you've razoo-ed and hoss-jockeyed so long you've got the idea that +all there is to a fair is a plug of chaw-tobacco, a bag of peanuts, +and a posse of nose-whistlin' old pelters skatin' round a half-mile +track." + +"And you and 'Kit'--you and Duke Jabe, leave you alone to run a +fair--wouldn't have northin' but his new exhibition hall filled with +croshayed tidies and hooked rugs." + +"Well, I move," broke in Trustee Dunham, "that we git som'ers. I'm +personally in favor of pleasin' Honer'ble Bickford and takin' the +exhibition hall." + +"That's right! That's business!" came decisive chorus from the other +three trustees. "Let's take the hall." + +Wallace doubled his gaunt form, propped himself on the table by his +skinny arms, and stared from face to face in disgust unutterable. + +"Take it?" he sneered. "Why, you'll take anything! You're takin' up +the air in this room, like pumpin' up a sulky tire, and ain't lettin' +it out again! Good-day! I'm goin' out where I can get a full breath." + +He whirled on them at the door. + +"But you hark to what I'm predictin' to you! If you don't wish the +devil had ye before you're done with that old balloon with a plug +hat on it in your judges' stand, then I'll trot an exhibition half +mile on my hands and knees against Star Pointer for a bag of oats. +And I'm speakin' for all the hossmen in this county." + +When this uncomfortable Jeremiah had departed, leaving in his wake +a trailing of oaths and a bouquet of stable aroma, the trustees showed +relief, even if enthusiasm was notably absent. + +"It's going to raise the tone of the fair, having him in the +stand--there ain't any getting round that," said the president. "The +notion seemed to strike him mighty favorable. 'It's an idea!' said +he to me. 'Yes, a real idea. I will have other prominent gentlemen +to serve with me, and we will be announced as paytrons of the races. +That will sound well, I think.' And he asked me what two men in town +was best fixed financially, and, of course, I told him Cap'n Aaron +Sproul, our first selectman, and Hiram Look. He said he hadn't been +in town long enough to get real well acquainted with either of them +yet, but hoped they were gentlemen. I told him they were. I reckon +that being skipper of a ship and ownin' a circus stands as high as +the gold-mine business." + +"Well," said one of the trustees, with some venom, "Jabe Bickford +is doin' a good deal for this town, one way and another, but he wants +to remember that his gran'ther had to call on us for town aid, and +that there wa'n't nary ever another Bickford that lived in this town +or went out of it, except Jabe, that could get trusted for a barrel +of flour. Puttin' on his airs out West is all right, but puttin' 'em +on here to home, among us that knows him and all his breed, is makin' +some of the old residents kind of sick. Si Wallace hadn't ought to +call him by that name he did, but Si is talkin' the way a good many +feel." + +"If an angel from heaven should descend on this town with the gift +of abidin' grace," said President Kitchen, sarcastically, "a lot of +folks here would get behind his back and make faces at him." + +"Prob'ly would," returned the trustee, imperturbably, "if said angel +wore a plug hat and kid gloves from mornin' till night, said 'Me good +man' to old codgers who knowed him when he had stone-bruises on his +heels as big as pigeon's aigs, and otherwise acted as though he was +cream and every one else was buttermilk." + +"Well, when some of the rest of you have done as much for this town +as Honer'ble Bickford," broke in the president, testily, "you can +have the right to criticise. As it is, I can't see anything but +jealousy in it. And I've heard enough of it. Now, to make this thing +all pleasant and agreeable to the Honer'ble Bickford, we've got to +have Cap'n Sproul and Hiram Look act as judges with him. 'Tis a vote! +Now, who will see Cap'n Sproul and--" + +"Considerin' what has happened to those who have in times past tried +to notify Cap'n Sproul of honors tendered to him in this town, you'd +better pick out some one who knows how to use the wireless telegraph," +suggested one of the trustees. + +"There won't be any trouble in gettin' Hiram Look to act," said the +president. "He's just enough of a circus feller to like to stand up +before the crowd and show authority. Well, then"--the president's +wits were sharpened by his anxiety over the proposed exhibition +hall--"let Mr. Look arrange it with Cap'n Sproul. They're suckin' +cider through the same straw these days." + +And this suggestion was so eminently good that the meeting adjourned +in excellent humor that made light of all the gloomy prognostications +of Trustee Wallace. + +As though good-fortune were in sooth ruling the affairs of the Smyrna +A.F. & G.D.A., Hiram Look came driving past as the trustees came out +of the tavern, their meeting-place. + +He stroked his long mustache and listened. At first his silk hat stuck +up rigidly, but soon it began to nod gratified assent. + +"I don't know much about hoss-trottin' rules, but a man that's been +in the show business for thirty years has got enough sportin' blood +in him for the job, I reckon. Bickford and Sproul, hey? Why, yes! +I'll hunt up the Cap, and take him over to Bickford's, and we'll +settle preliminaries, or whatever the hoss-talk is for gettin' +together. I'd rather referee a prize-fight, but you're too dead up +this way for real sport to take well. Nothing been said to Sproul? +All right! I'll fix him." + +Cap'n Sproul was in his garden, surveying the growing "sass" with +much content of spirit. He cheerfully accepted Hiram's invitation +to take a ride, destination not mentioned, and they jogged away +toward "Bickburn Towers," as the Honorable J. Percival had named the +remodelled farm-house of his ancestors. + +Hiram, whose gift was language, impetuous in flow and convincing in +argument, whether as barker or friend, conveyed the message of the +trustees to Cap'n Sproul. But the first selectman of Smyrna did not +display enthusiasm. He scowled at the buggy dasher and was silent. + +"Men that have been out and about, like you and I have been, need +something once in a while to break the monotony of country life," +concluded Hiram, slashing his whip at the wayside alders. + +"You and me and him," observed the Cap'n, with sullen prod of his +thumb in direction of the "gingerbready" tower of the Bickford place +rising over the ridge, "marooned in that judges' stand like penguins +on a ledge--we'll be li'ble to break the monotony. Oh yes! There ain't +no doubt about that." + +"Why, there'll be northin' to it!" blustered Hiram, encouragingly. +"I'll swear 'em into line, you holler 'Go!' and the Honer'ble +Bickford will finger that new gold stop-watch of his and see how fast +they do it. Northin' to it, I say!" + +"This is the blastedest town a man ever settled down in to spend his +last days in peace and quietness," growled the Cap'n. "There's a set +of men here that seem to be perfickly happy so long as they're rollin' +up a gob of trouble, sloppin' a little sweet-oil and molasses on the +outside and foolin' some one into swallerin' it. I tell ye, Look, +I've lived here a little longer than you have, and when you see a +man comin' to offer you what they call an honor, kick him on general +principles, and kick him hard." + +"Doctors ought to be willin' to take their own medicine," retorted +Hiram, grimly. "Here you be, first selec'man and--" + +"They caught me when I wa'n't lookin'--not bein' used to the ways +of land-piruts," replied the Cap'n, gloomily. "I was tryin' to warn +you as one that's been ahead and knows." + +"Why, that's just what I like about this town," blurted Hiram, +undismayed. "When I came home to Palermo a year ago or so, after all +my wanderin's, they wouldn't elect me so much as hog-reeve--seemed +to be down on me all 'round. But here--heard what they did last +night?" There was pride in his tones. "They elected me foreman of +the Smyrna Ancient and Honer'ble Firemen's Association." + +"And you let 'em hornswoggle you into takin' it?" demanded the Cap'n. + +"Leather buckets, piazzy hat, speakin'-trumpet, bed-wrench, and +puckerin'-string bag are in my front hall this minit," said Hiram, +cheerily, "and the wife is gittin' the stuff together for the feed +and blow-out next week. I'm goin' to do it up brown!" + +The Cap'n opened his mouth as though to enter upon revelations. But +he shut it without a word. + +"It ain't no use," he reflected, his mind bitter with the memories +of his own occupancy of that office. "It's like the smallpox and the +measles; you've got to have a run of 'em yourself before you're safe +from ketchin' 'em." + +The Honorable J. Percival Bickford, rotund and suave with the +mushiness of the near-gentleman, met them graciously in the hall, +having waited for the servant to announce them. + +Hiram did most of the talking, puffing at one of the host's long +cigars. Cap'n Sproul sat on the edge of a spider-legged chair, great +unhappiness on his countenance. Mr. Bickford was both charmed and +delighted, so he said, by their acceptance, and made it known that +he had suggested them, in his anxiety to have only gentlemen of +standing associated with him. + +"As the landed proprietors of the town, as you might say," he observed, +"it becomes us as due our position to remove ourselves a little from +the herd. In the judges' stand we can, as you might say, be patrons +of the sports of the day, without loss of dignity. I believe--and +this is also my suggestion--that the trustees are to provide an open +barouche, and we will be escorted from the gate to the stand by a +band of music. That will be nice. And when it is over we will award +the prizes, as I believe they call it--" + +"Announce winners of heats and division of purses," corrected Hiram, +out of his greater knowledge of sporting affairs. "I'll do that +through a megaphone. When I barked in front of my show you could hear +me a mile." + +"It will all be very nice," said Mr. Bickford, daintily flecking +cigar ash from his glorious white waistcoat. "Er--by the way--I see +that you customarily wear a silk hat, Mr. Look." + +"It needs a plug hat, a lemon, and a hunk of glass to run a circus," +said the ex-showman. + +"Yes, men may say what they like, Mr. Look, the people expect certain +things in the way of garb from those whom they honor with position. +Er--do you wear a silk hat officially, Captain Sproul, as selectman?" + +"Not by a--never had one of the things on!" replied the Cap'n, +moderating his first indignant outburst. + +"I'm going to do you a bit of neighborly kindness," said Mr. Bickford, +blandly. "James," he called to the servant, "bring the brown bandbox +in the hall closet. It's one of my hats," he explained. "I have +several. You may wear it in the stand, with my compliments, Captain +Sproul. Then we'll be three of a kind, eh? Ha, ha!" + +The Cap'n licked his lips as though fever burned there, and worked +his Adam's apple vigorously. Probably if he had been in the +accustomed freedom of outdoors he would have sworn soulfully and +smashed the bandbox over the Honorable J. Percival's bald head. Now, +in the stilted confines of that ornate parlor, he nursed the bandbox +on his knees, as part of the rest of the spider-legged and frail +surroundings. When they retired to their team he carried the bandbox +held gingerly out in front of him, tiptoeing across the polished +floor. + +"What? Me wear that bird-cage?" he roared, when they were out of +hearing. "Not by the great jeehookibus!" + +"Yes, you will," returned Hiram, with the calm insistence of a friend. +"You ain't tryin' to make out that what I do ain't all right and proper, +are you?" + +Cap'n Sproul checked an apparent impulse to toss the bandbox into +the roadside bushes, and after a moment tucked the thing under the +seat to have it out of the way of his tempted hands. Then he wrenched +off a huge chew of tobacco whose rumination might check his impulse +toward tempestuous language. + +He tried the hat on that night in the presence of his admiring wife, +gritting curses under his breath, his skin prickling with resentment. +He swore then that he would never wear it. But on the day of the race +he carried it in its box to the selectman's office, at which common +meeting-place the three judges were to be taken up by the official +barouche of the Smyrna Fair Association. + +Under the commanding eye of Hiram Look he put on the head-gear when +the barouche was announced at the door, and went forth into the glare +of publicity with a furtive sense of shame that flushed his cheek. +By splitting the top of his hack, Ferd Parrott, landlord of Smyrna +tavern, had produced a vehicle that somewhat resembled half a +watermelon. Ferd drove, adorned also with a plug hat from the stock +of the Honorable Percival. + +Just inside the gate of the fair-grounds waited the Smyrna "Silver +Cornet Band." It struck up "Hail to the Chief," to the violent alarm +of the hack-horses. + +"We're goin' to get run away with sure's you're above hatches!" +bellowed Cap'n Sproul, standing up and making ready to leap over the +edge of the watermelon. But Hiram Look restrained him, and the band, +its trombones splitting the atmosphere, led away with a merry march. + +When they had circled the track, from the three-quarters pole to the +stand, and the crowd broke into plaudits, Cap'n Sproul felt a bit +more comfortable, and dared to straighten his neck and lift his +head-gear further into the sunshine. + +He even forgot the hateful presence of his seat-mate, a huge dog that +Mr. Bickford had invited into the fourth place in the carriage. + +"A very valuable animal, gentlemen," he said. "Intelligent as a man, +and my constant companion. To-day is the day of two of man's best +friends--the horse and the dog--and Hector will be in his element." + +But Hector, wagging and slavering amiably about in the narrow +confines of the little stand to which they climbed, snapped the +Cap'n's leash of self-control ere five minutes passed. + +"Say, Mr. Bickford," he growled, after one or two efforts to crowd +past the ubiquitous canine and get to the rail, "either me or your +dog is in the way here." + +"Charge, Hector!" commanded Mr. Bickford, taking one eye from the +cheering multitude. The dog "clumped" down reluctantly. + +"We might just as well get to an understandin'," said the Cap'n, not +yet placated. "I ain't used to a dog underfoot, I don't like a dog, +and I won't associate with a dog. Next thing I know I'll be makin' +a misstep onto him, and he'll have a hunk out of me." + +"Why, my dear captain," oozed Hector's proprietor, "that dog is as +intelligent as a man, as mild as a kitten, and a very--" + +"Don't care if he's writ a dictionary and nussed infants," cried the +Cap'n, slatting out his arm defiantly; "it's him or me, here; take +your choice!" + +"I--I think your dog would be all right if you let him stay +down-stairs under the stand," ventured President Kitchen, +diplomatically. + +"He's a valuable animal," demurred Mr. Bickford, "and--" He caught +the flaming eye of the Cap'n, and added: "But if you'll have a man +sit with him he may go. + +"Now we'll settle down for a real nice afternoon," he went on, +conciliatingly. "Let's see: This here is the cord that I pull to +signal the horses to start, is it?" + +"No, no!" expostulated President Kitchen, "you pull that bell-cord +to call them back if the field isn't bunched all right at the wire +when they score down for the word. If all the horses are in position +and are all leveled, you shout 'Go!' and start your watch." + +"Precisely," said Mr. Bickford. + +"It's the custom," went on the president, solicitous for the success +of his strange assortment of judges, yet with heart almost failing +him, "for each judge to have certain horses that he watches during +the mile for breaks or fouls. Then he places them as they come under +the wire. That is so one man won't have too much on his mind." + +"Very, very nice!" murmured the Honorable J. Percival. "We are here +to enjoy the beautiful day and the music and the happy throngs, and +we don't want to be too much taken up with our duties." He pushed +himself well out into view over the rail, held his new gold watch +in one gloved hand, and tapped time to the band with the other. + + + + +XII + + +A narrow flight of rickety, dusty stairs conducted one from the dim, +lower region of the little stand through an opening in the floor of +the judge's aerie. There was a drop-door over the opening, held up +by a hasp. + +Now came a thumping of resolute feet on the stairs; a head projected +just above the edge of the opening, and stopped there. + +"President, trustees, and judges!" hailed a squeaky voice. + +Cap'n Sproul recognized the speaker with an uncontrollable snort of +disgust. + +It was Marengo Todd, most obnoxious of all that hateful crowd of the +Cap'n's "wife's relations"--the man who had misused the Cap'n's +honeymoon guilelessness in order to borrow money and sell him +spavined horses. + +Marengo surveyed them gloomily from under a driving-cap visor huge +as a sugar-scoop. He flourished at them a grimy sheet of paper. + +"Mister President, trustees, and judges, I've got here a dockyment +signed by seventeen--" + +President Kitchen knew that Marengo Todd had been running his +bow-legs off all the forenoon securing signatures to a petition of +protest that had been inspired by Trustee Silas Wallace. The +president pushed away the hand that brandished the paper. + +"What do you take this for--an afternoon readin'-circle?" he +demanded. "If you're goin' to start your hoss in this thirty-four +class you want to get harnessed. We're here to trot hosses, not to +peruse dockyments." + +"This 'ere ain't no pome on spring," yelled Marengo, banging the dust +out of the floor with his whip-butt and courageously coming up one +step on the stairs. "It's a protest, signed by seventeen drivers, +and says if you start these events with them three old sofy pillers, +there, stuffed into plug hats, for judges, we'll take this thing +clear up to the Nayshunal 'Sociation and show up this fair management. +There, chaw on that!" + +"Why, bless my soul!" chirruped the Honorable Bickford, "this man +seems very much excited. You'll have to run away, my good man! We're +very busy up here, and have no time to subscribe to any papers." + +Mr. Bickford evidently believed that this was one of the daily +"touches" to which he had become accustomed. + +"Don't ye talk to me like I was one of your salaried +spittoon-cleaners," squealed Marengo, emboldened by the hoarse and +encouraging whispers of Trustee Wallace in the dim depths below. The +name that much repetition by Wallace had made familiar slipped out +before he had time for second thought. "I knowed ye, Kittle-belly +Bickford, when ye wore patches on your pants bigger'n dinner-plates +and--" + +President Kitchen let loose the hasp that held up the drop-door and +fairly "pegged" Mr. Todd out of sight. He grinned apologetically at +a furious Mr. Bickford. + +"Order the marshal to call the hosses for the thirty-four trot, +Honer'ble," he directed, anxious to give the starter something to +do to take his mind off present matters. + +Mr. Bickford obeyed, finding this exercise of authority a partial +sop to his wounded feelings. + +Cap'n Sproul pendulumed dispiritedly to and fro in the little +enclosure, gloomily and obstinately waiting for the disaster that +his seaman's sense of impending trouble scented. Hiram Look was +frankly and joyously enjoying a scene that revived his old circus +memories. + +Eleven starters finally appeared, mostly green horses. The drivers +were sullen and resentful. Marengo Todd was up behind a Gothic ruin +that he called "Maria M." When he jogged past the judges' stand to +get position, elbows on his knees and shoulders hunched up, the glare +that he levelled on Bickford from under his scoop visor was +absolutely demoniac. The mutter of his denunciation could be heard +above the yells of the fakers and the squawk of penny whistles. + +Occasionally he scruffed his forearm over his head as though fondling +something that hurt him. + +To start those eleven rank brutes on that cow-lane of a track would +have tested the resources and language of a professional. When they +swung at the foot of the stretch and came scoring for the first time +it was a mix-up that excited the vociferous derision of the crowd. +Nearly every horse was off his stride, the drivers sawing at the bits. + +Marengo Todd had drawn the pole, but by delaying, in order to blast +the Honorable J. Percival with his glances, he was not down to turn +with the others, and now came pelting a dozen lengths behind, howling +like a Modoc. + +Some railbird satirist near the wire bawled "Go!" as the unspeakable +riot swept past in dust-clouds. The Honorable Bickford had early +possessed himself of the bell-cord as his inalienable privilege. He +did not ring the bell to call the field back. He merely leaned far +out, clutching the cord, endeavoring to get his eye on the man who +had shouted "Go!" He declaimed above the uproar that the man who would +do such a thing as that was no gentleman, and declared that he should +certainly have a constable arrest the next man who interfered with +his duties. + +In the mean time President Kitchen was frantically calling to him +to ring the gong. The horses kept going, for a driver takes no chances +of losing a heat by coming back to ask questions. It was different +in the case of Marengo Todd, driver of the pole-horse, and entitled +to "protection." He pulled "Maria M." to a snorting halt under the +wire and poured forth the vials of his artistic profanity in a way +that piqued Cap'n Sproul's professional interest, he having heard +more or less eminent efforts in his days of seafaring. + +Lashed in this manner, the Honorable J. Percival Bickford began +retort of a nature that reminded his fellow-townsmen that he was +"Jabe" Bickford, of Smyrna, before he was donor of public benefits +and libraries. + +The grimness of Cap'n Sproul's face relaxed a little. He forgot even +the incubus of the plug hat. He nudged Hiram. + +"I didn't know he had it in him," he whispered. "I was afraid he was +jest a dude and northin' else." + +In this instance the dog Hector seemed to know his master's voice, +and realized that something untoward was occurring. He came bounding +out from under the stand and frisked backward toward the centre of +the track in order to get a square look at his lord. In this blind +progress he bumped against the nervous legs of "Maria M." She +promptly expressed her opinion of the Bickford family and its +attaches by rattling the ribs of Hector by a swift poke with her hoof. + +The dog barked one astonished yap of indignation and came back with +a snap that started the crimson on "Maria's" fetlock. She kicked him +between the eyes this time--a blow that floored him. The next instant +"Maria M." was away, Todd vainly struggling with the reins and +trailing the last of his remarks over his shoulder. The dog was no +quitter. He appeared to have the noble blood of which his master had +boasted. After a dizzy stagger, he shot away after his assailant--a +cloud of dust with a core of dog. + +The other drivers, their chins apprehensively over their shoulders, +took to the inner oval of the course or to the side lines. Todd, "Maria +M.," and Hector were, by general impulse, allowed to become the whole +show. + +When the mare came under the wire the first time two swipes attempted +to stop her by the usual method of suddenly stretching a blanket +before her. She spread her legs and squatted. Todd shot forward. The +mare had a long, stiff neck. Her driver went astraddle of it and stuck +there like a clothes-pin on a line. Hector, in his cloud of dust, +dove under the sulky and once more snapped the mare's leg, this time +with a vigor that brought a squeal of fright and pain out of her. +She went over the blanket and away again. The dog, having received +another kick, and evidently realizing that he was still "it" in this +grotesque game of tag, kept up the chase. + +No one who was at Smyrna fair that day ever remembered just how many +times the antagonists circled the track. But when the mare at last +began to labor under the weight of her rider, a half-dozen men rushed +out and anchored her. The dog growled, dodged the men's kicking feet, +and went back under the stand. + +"What is this, jedges, a dog-fight or a hoss-trot?" raved Todd, +staggering in front of the stand and quivering his thin arms above +his head. "Whose is that dog? I've got a right to kill him, and I'm +going to. Show yourself over that rail, you old sausage, with a plug +hat on it, and tell me what you mean by a send-off like that! What +did I tell ye, trustees? It's happened. I'll kill that dog." + +"I want you to understand," bellowed the Honorable Bickford, using +the megaphone, "you are talking about my dog--a dog that is worth +more dollars than that old knock-kneed plug of yours has got hairs +in her mane. Put your hand on that dog, and you'll go to State Prison." + +"Then I'll bet a thousand dollars to a doughnut ye set that dog on +me," howled Marengo. "I heard ye siss him!" + +The Honorable J. Percival seemed to be getting more into the spirit +of the occasion. + +"You're a cross-eyed, wart-nosed liar!" he retorted, with great +alacrity. + +"I'll stump ye down here," screamed Todd. "I can lick you and your +dog, both together." + +"If I was in your place," said "Judge" Hiram Look, his interest in +horse-trotting paling beside this more familiar phase of sport, "I'd +go down and cuff his old chops. You'll have the crowd with you if +you do." + +But Mr. Bickford, though trembling with rage, could not bring himself +to correlate fisticuffs and dignity. + +"He is a miserable, cheap horse-jockey, and I shall treat him with +the contempt he deserves," he blustered. "If it hadn't been for my +dog his old boneyard could never have gone twice around the track, +anyway." + +The crowds on the grand stand were bellowing: "Trot hosses! Shut up! +Trot hosses!" + +"Er--what other races have we?" inquired the Honorable J. Percival, +as blandly as his violated feelings would allow. + +"We haven't had any yet," cried a new voice in the stand--the wrathful +voice of Trustee Silas Wallace, of the horse department. After quite +a struggle he had managed to tip President Kitchen off the trap-door +and had ascended. "We never will have any, either," he shouted, +shaking his finger under the president's nose. "What did I tell you +would happen? We'll be reported to the National Association." + +The crowd across the way roared and barked like beasts of prey, and +the insistent and shrill staccato of Marengo Todd sounded over all. + +Cap'n Sproul deliberately and with much decision took off his silk +hat and held it toward the Honorable Bickford. + +"I resign!" he said. "I was shanghaied into this thing against my +good judgment, and it's come out just as I expected it would. It ain't +no place for me, and I resign!" + +"It isn't any place for gentlemen," agreed Mr. Bickford, ignoring +the proffered hat. "We seem to be thrown in among some very vulgar +people," he went on, his ear out for Marengo's taunts, his eyes boring +Trustee Wallace. "It is not at all as I supposed it would be. You +cannot expect us to be patrons of the races under these circumstances, +Mr. Kitchen. You will please call our barouche. We leave in great +displeasure." + +"I don't give a red hoorah how you leave, so long as you leave before +you've busted up this fair--trot programmy and all," retorted Mr. +Wallace, bridling. "I've got three men waitin' ready to come into +this stand. They don't wear plug hats, but they know the diff'runce +between a dog-fight and a hoss-trot." + +"Take this! I don't want it no more," insisted the Cap'n, stung by +this repeated reference to plug hats. He poked the head-gear at Mr. +Bickford. But that gentleman brushed past him, stumped down the +stairs, and strode into the stretch before the stand, loudly calling +for the carriage. + +Marengo Todd, accepting his sudden and defiant appearance as gage +of battle, precipitately withdrew, leaping the fence and +disappearing under the grand-stand. + +It was five minutes or more ere the barouche appeared, Mr. Parrott +requiring to be coaxed by President Kitchen to haul the three +disgraced dignitaries away. He seemed to sniff a mob sentiment that +might damage his vehicle. + +Mr. Bickford's two associates followed him from the stand, the Cap'n +abashed and carrying the tall hat behind his back, Hiram Look +muttering disgusted profanity under his long mustache. + +"I want to say, gentlemen," cried Mr. Bickford, utilizing the +interval of waiting to address the throng about him, "that you have +no right to blame my dog. He is a valuable animal and a great family +pet, and he only did what it is his nature to do." + +Marengo Todd was edging back into the crowd, his coat off and +something wrapped in the garment. + +"Blame no creature for that which it is his nature to do," said Mr. +Bickford. "He was attacked first, and he used the weapons nature +provided." + +"Fam'ly pets, then, has a right to do as it is their nature for to +do?" squealed Todd, working nearer. + +Mr. Bickford scornfully turned his back on this vulgar railer. The +carriage was at hand. + +"How about pets known as medder hummin'-birds?" demanded Todd. + +The Cap'n was the first in. Hiram came next, kicking out at the +amiable Hector, who would have preceded him. When the Honorable J. +Percival stepped in, some one slammed the carriage-door so quickly +on his heels that his long-tailed coat was caught in the crack. + +Todd forced his way close to the carriage as it was about to start. +His weak nature was in a state of anger bordering on the maniacal. + +"Here's some more family pets for you that ain't any dangerouser than +them you're cultivatin'. Take 'em home and study 'em." + +He climbed on the wheel and shook out of the folds of his coat a +hornets' nest that he had discovered during his temporary exile under +the grand-stand. It dropped into Mr. Bickford's lap, and with a swat +of his coat Todd crushed it where it lay. It was a coward's revenge, +but it was an effective one. + +Mr. Bickford leaped, either in pain or in order to pursue the fleeing +Marengo, and fell over the side of the carriage. His coat-tail held +fast in the door, and suspended him, his toes and fingers just +touching the ground. When he jumped he threw the nest as far as he +could, and it fell under the horses. Hiram endeavored to open the +hack-door as the animals started--but who ever yet opened a hack-door +in a hurry? + +Cap'n Aaron Sproul's first impulse was the impulse of the sailor who +beholds dangerous top-hamper dragging at a craft's side in a squall. +He out with his big knife and cut off the Honorable Bickford's +coat-tails with one mighty slash, and that gentleman rolled in the +dust over the hornets' nest, just outside the wheels, as the carriage +roared away down the stretch. + +Landlord Parrott was obliged to make one circuit of the track before +he could control his steeds, but the triumphal rush down the length +of the yelling grand-stand was an ovation that Cap'n Sproul did not +relish. He concealed the hateful plug hat between his knees, and +scowled straight ahead. + +Parrott did not go back after the Honorable Bickford. + +The loyal and apologetic Kitchen assisted that gentleman to rise, +brushed off his clothes--what were left of them--and carried him to +"Bickburn Towers" in his buggy, with Hector wagging sociably in the +dust behind. + +Mr. Bickford fingered the ragged edge of his severed coat-tails, and +kept his thoughts to himself during his ride. + +When the old lady Sampson called at the Towers next day with a +subscription paper to buy a carpet for the Baptist vestry, James +informed her that Mr. Bickford had gone out West to look after his +business interests. + +When Hiram Look set Cap'n Aaron Sproul down at his door that afternoon +he emphasized the embarrassed silence that had continued during the +ride by driving away without a word. Equally as saturnine, Cap'n +Sproul walked through his dooryard, the battered plug hat in his hand, +paying no heed to the somewhat agitated questions of his wife. She +watched his march into the corn-field with concern. + +She saw him set the hat on the head of a scarecrow whose construction +had occupied his spare hours, and in which he felt some little pride. +But after surveying the result a moment he seemed to feel that he +had insulted a helpless object, for he took the hat off, spat into +it, and kicked it into shapeless pulp. Then he came back to the house +and grimly asked his wife if she had anything handy to take the poison +out of hornet stings. + + + + +XIII + + +In Newry, on the glorious Fourth of July, the Proud Bird of Freedom +wears a red shirt, a shield hat, and carries a speaking-trumpet +clutched under one wing. From the court-house--Newry is the county's +shire town--across to the post-office is stretched the well-worn +banner: + + WELCOME TO THE COUNTY'S + BRAVE FIRE-LADDIES + +That banner pitches the key for Independence Day in Newry. The shire +patriotically jangles her half-dozen bells in the steeples at +daylight in honor of Liberty, and then gives Liberty a stick of candy +and a bag of peanuts, and tells her to sit in the shade and keep her +eye out sharp for the crowding events of the annual firemen's muster. +This may be a cavalier way of treating Liberty, but perhaps Liberty +enjoys it better than being kept on her feet all day, listening to +speeches and having her ear-drums split by cannon. Who knows? At all +events, Newry's programme certainly suits the firemen of the county, +from Smyrna in the north to Carthage in the south. And the firemen +of the county and their women are the ones who do their shopping in +Newry! Liberty was never known to buy as much as a ribbon for her +kimono there. + +So it's the annual firemen's muster for Newry's Fourth! Red shirts +in the forenoon parade, red language at the afternoon tub-trials, +red fire in the evening till the last cheer is yawped. + +So it was on the day of which this truthful chronicle treats. + +Court Street, at ten, ante-meridian, was banked with eager faces. +Band music, muffled and mellow, away off somewhere where the parade +was forming! Small boys whiling away the tedium of waiting with +snap-crackers. Country teams loaded to the edges, and with little +Johnny scooched on a cricket in front, hustling down the line of +parade to find a nook. Anxious parents scuttling from side to side +of the street, dragging red-faced offspring with the same haste and +uncertainty hens display to get on the other side of the road--having +no especial object in changing, except to change. Chatter of voices, +hailings of old friends who signified delighted surprise by +profanity and affectionate abuse. Everlasting wailings of penny +squawkers! + +Behold Newry ready for its annual: "See the Conquering Heroes Come!" + +Uncle Brad Trufant stood on the post-office steps, dim and +discontented eyes on the vista of Court Street, framed in the +drooping elms. + +"They don't get the pepper sass into it these days they used to," +he said. "These last two years, if it wa'n't for the red shirts and +some one forgettin' and cussin' once in a while, you'd think they +was classes from a theological seminary marchin' to get their degrees. +I can remember when we came down from Vienny twenty years ago with +old Niag'ry, and ev'ry man was over six feet tall, and most of 'em +had double teeth, upper and lower, all the way 'round. And all wore +red shirts. And ev'ry man had one horn, and most of 'em tew. We broke +glass when we hollered. We tore up ground when we jumped. We cracked +the earth when we lit. Them was real days for firemen!" + +"Ain't seen the Smyrna Ancient and Honorable Firemen's Association, +Hiram Look foreman, and his new fife-and-drum corps, and the rest +of the trimmin's, have you, Uncle Brad?" drawled a man near him. "Well, +don't commit yourself too far on old Vienny till the Smyrna part of +the parade gets past. I see 'em this mornin' when they unloaded Hecly +One and the trimmin's 'foresaid, and I'd advise you to wait a spell +before you go to callin' this muster names." + +It became apparent a little later that hints of this sort were having +their effect on the multitude. Even the head of the great parade, +with old John Burt, chief marshal, titupping to the grunt of brass +horns, stirred only perfunctory applause. The shouts for Avon's +stalwart fifty, with their mascot gander waddling on the right flank, +were evidently confined to the Avon excursionists. Starks, Carthage, +Salem, Vienna strode past with various evolutions--open order, fours +by the right, double-quick, and all the rest, but still the heads +turned toward the elm-framed vista of the street. The people were +expecting something. It came. + +Away down the street there sounded--raggity-tag! raggity-tag!--the +tuck of a single drum. Then--pur-r-r-r! + +"There's old Smyrna talkin' up!" shrilled a voice in the crowd. + +And the jubilant plangor of a fife-and-drum corps burst on the +listening ears. + +"And there's his pet elephant for a mascot! How's that for Foreman +Hiram Look and the Smyrna Ancients and Honer'bles?" squealed the +voice once more. + +The drum corps came first, twenty strong, snares and basses rattling +and booming, the fifers with arms akimbo and cheeks like bladders. + +Hiram Look, ex-showman and once proprietor of "Look's Leviathan +Circus and Menagerie," came next, lonely in his grandeur. He wore +his leather hat, with the huge shield-fin hanging down his back, the +word "Foreman" newly lettered on its curved front. He carried two +leather buckets on his left arm, and in his right hand flourished +his speaking-trumpet. The bed-wrench, chief token of the antiquity +of the Ancients, hung from a cord about his neck, and the huge bag, +with a puckering-string run about its mouth, dangled from his waist. + +At his heels shambled the elephant, companion of his circus +wanderings, and whose old age he had sworn to protect and make +peaceful. A banner was hung from each ear, and she slouched along +at a brisk pace, in order to keep the person of her lord and master +within reach of her moist and wistful trunk. She wore a blanket on +which was printed: "Imogene, Mascot of the Smyrna Ancients." Imogene +was making herself useful as well as ornamental, for she was +harnessed to the pole of "Hecla Number One," and the old tub +"ruckle-chuckled" along at her heels on its little red trucks. From +its brake-bars hung the banners won in the past-and-gone victories +of twenty years of musters. Among these was one inscribed +"Champions." + +And behind Hecla marched, seventy-five strong, the Ancients of +Smyrna, augmented, by Hiram Look's enterprise, until they comprised +nearly every able-bodied man in the old town. + +To beat and pulse of riotous drums and shrilling fifes they were +roaring choruses. It was the old war song of the organization, +product of a quarter-century of rip-roaring defiance, crystallized +from the lyrics of the hard-fisted. + +They let the bass drums accent for them. + + "Here wec-come from old Sy-myrna + Here wec-come with Hecly One; + She's the prunes for a squirt, gol durn her-- + We've come down for fight or fun. + Shang, de-rango! We're the bo-kay, + Don't giveadam for no one no way. + + "Here wec-come--sing old A'nt Rhody! + See old Hecly paw up dirt. + Stuff her pod with rocks and sody, + Jee-ro C'ris'mus, how she'll squirt! + Rip-te-hoo! And a hip, hip, holler, + We'll lick hell for a half a dollar!" + +The post-office windows rattled and shivered in the sunshine. Horses +along the line of march crouched, ducked sideways, and snorted in +panic. Women put their fingers in their ears as the drums passed. +And when at the end of each verse the Ancients swelled their +red-shirted bosoms and screamed, Uncle Trufant hissed in the ear of +his nearest neighbor on the post-office steps: "The only thing we +need is the old Vienny company here to give 'em the stump! Old Vienny, +as it used to be, could lick 'em, el'funt and all." + +The Smyrna Ancients were file-closers of the parade; Hiram Look had +chosen his position with an eye to effect that made all the other +companies seem to do mere escort duty. The orderly lines of +spectators poured together into the street behind, and went elbowing +in noisy rout to the village square, the grand rallying-point and +arena of the day's contests. There, taking their warriors' ease +before the battle, the Ancients, as disposed by their assiduous +foreman, continued the centre of observation. + +Uncle Brad Trufant, nursing ancient memories of the prowess of +Niagara and the Viennese, voiced some of the sentiment of the envious +when he muttered: "Eatin', allus eatin'! The only fire they can +handle is a fire in a cook-stove." + +On this occasion Foreman Look had responded nobly to the well-known +gastronomic call of his Ancients. No one understood better than he +the importance of the commissary in a campaign. The dinner he had +given the Ancients to celebrate his election as foreman had shown +him the way to their hearts. + +Bringing up the rear had rumbled one of his circus-vans. Now, with +the eyes of the hungry multitude on him, he unlocked the doors and +disclosed an interior packed full of individual lunch-baskets. His +men cheered lustily and formed in line. + +Foreman Look gazed on his cohorts with pride and fondness. + +"Gents," he said, in a clarion voice that took all the bystanders +into his confidence, "you're never goin' to make any mistake in +followin' me. Follow me when duty calls--follow me when pleasure +speaks, and you'll always find me with the goods." + +He waved his hand at the open door of the van. + +Two ladies had been awaiting the arrival of the Ancients in the square, +squired by a stout man in blue, who scruffed his fingers through his +stubbly gray beard from time to time with no great ease of manner. +Most of the spectators knew him. He was the first selectman of Smyrna, +Cap'n Aaron Sproul. And when the ladies, at a signal from Foreman +Look, took stations at the van door and began to distribute the +baskets, whisperings announced that they were respectively the wives +of Cap'n Sproul and the foreman of Hecla One. The ladies wore red, +white, and blue aprons, and rosettes of patriotic hues, and their +smiling faces indicated their zest in their duties. + +Uncle Trufant, as a hound scents game, sniffed Cap'n Sproul's uneasy +rebelliousness, and seemed to know with a sixth sense that only +Hiram's most insistent appeals to his friendship, coupled with the +coaxings of the women-folk, had dragged him down from Smyrna. Uncle +Trufant edged up to him and pointed wavering cane at the festive scene +of distribution. + +"Seems to be spendin' his money on 'em, all free and easy, Cap'n." + +The Cap'n scowled and grunted. + +"It's good to have a lot of money like he's got. That's the kind of +a foreman them caterpillars is lookin' for. But if greenbacks growed +all over him, like leaves on a tree, they'd keep at him till they'd +gnawed 'em all off." + +He glowered at the briskly wagging jaws and stuffed cheeks of the +feeding proteges of Foreman Look. + +"I reckon he'll wake up some day, same's you did, and reelize what +they're tryin' to do to him. What you ought to done was settle in +Vienny. We've heard out our way how them Smyrna bloodsuckers have--" + +Cap'n Sproul whirled on the ancient detractor, whiskers bristling +angrily. He had never been backward in pointing out Smyrna's faults. +But to have an outsider do it in the open forum of a firemen's muster +was a different matter. + +"Before I started in to criticise other towns or brag about my own, +Trufant," he snorted, "I'd move over into some place where citizens +like you, that's been dead ten years and ought to be buried, ain't +walkin' round because there ain't soil enough left in town to bury +'em in." This was biting reference to Vienna's ledgy surface. + +"I'd ruther walk on granite than have web feet and paddle in muck," +retorted Uncle Trufant, ready with the ancient taunt as to the big +bog that occupied Smyrna's interior. + +"Ducks are good property," rejoined the Cap'n, serenely, "but I never +heard of any one keepin' crows for pets nor raisin' 'em for market. +There ain't anything but a crow will light on your town, and they +only do it because the sight of it makes 'em faint." + +Stimulated because bystanders were listening to the colloquy, Uncle +Trufant shook his cane under Cap'n Sproul's nose. + +"That's what ye be in Smyrna--ducks!" he squealed. "You yourself come +to your own when ye waddled off'm the deck of a ship and settled there. +Down here to-day with an el'funt and what's left of a busted circus, +and singin' brag songs, when there ain't a man in this county but +what knows Smyrna never had the gristle to put up a fight man-fashion +at a firemen's muster. Vienny can shake one fist at ye and run ye +up a tree. Vienny has allus done it. Vienny allus will do it. Ye can't +fight!" + +Hiram had cocked his ear at sound of Uncle Trufant's petulant squeal. +He thrust close to them, elbowing the crowd. + +"Fight! Why, you old black and tan, what has fightin' got to do with +the makin' of a fire department? There's been too much fightin' in +years past. It's a lot of old terriers like you that had made firemen +looked down on. Your idee of fire equipment was a kag of new rum and +plenty of brass knuckles. I can show ye that times has changed! Look +at that picture there!" He waved his hairy hand at the ladies who +were distributing the last of the lunch-baskets. "That's the way to +come to muster--come like gents, act like gents, eat like gents, and +when it's all over march with your lady on your arm." + +"Three cheers for the ladies!" yelled an enthusiastic member of the +Smyrna company. The cheers coming up had to crowd past food going +down, but the effect was good, nevertheless. + +"That's the idea!" shouted Hiram. "Peace and politeness, and +everybody happy. If that kind of a firemen's muster don't suit Vienny, +then her company better take the next train back home and put in the +rest of the day firin' rocks at each other. If Vienny stays here she's +got to be genteel, like the rest of us--and the Smyrna Ancients will +set the pace. Ain't that so, boys?" + +His men yelled jubilant assent. + +Uncle Trufant's little eyes shuttled balefully. + +"Oh, that's it, is it?" he jeered. "I didn't know I'd got into the +ladies' sewin'-circle. But if you've got fancy-work in them +shoppin'-bags of your'n, and propose to set under the trees this +afternoon and do tattin', I wouldn't advise ye to keep singin' that +song you marched in here with. It ain't ladylike. Better sing, 'Oh, +how we love our teacher dear!'" + +"Don't you fuss your mind about us in any way, shape, or manner," +retorted the foreman. "When we march we march, when we eat we eat, +when we sing we sing, when we squirt"--he raised his voice and glared +at the crowd surrounding--"we'll give ye a stream that the whole +Vienny fire company can straddle and ride home on like it was a +hobby-horse." And, concluding thus, he fondled his long mustaches +away from his mouth and gazed on the populace with calm pride. Caesar +on the plains of Pharsalia, Pompey triumphant on the shores of Africa, +Alexander at the head of his conquering Macedonians had not more +serenity of countenance to display to the multitude. + + + + +XIV + + +Up came trotting a brisk little man with a notebook in one hand, a +stubby lead-pencil in the other, a look of importance spread over +his flushed features, and on his breast a broad, blue ribbon, +inscribed: "Chief Marshal." + +"Smyrna has drawed number five for the squirt," he announced, +"fallerin' Vienny. Committee on tub contests has selected Colonel +Gideon Ward as referee." + +Hiram's eyes began to blaze, and Cap'n Sproul growled oaths under +his breath. During the weeks of their growing intimacy the Cap'n had +detailed to his friend the various phases of Colonel Gideon's +iniquity as displayed toward him. Though the affairs of Hiram Look +had not yet brought him into conflict with the ancient tyrant of +Smyrna, Hiram had warmly espoused the cause and the grudge of the +Cap'n. + +"I'll bet a thousand dollars against a jelly-fish's hind leg that +he begged the job so as to do you," whispered Sproul. "I ain't been +a brother-in-law of his goin' on two years not to know his shenanigan. +It's a plot." + +"Who picked out that old cross between a split-saw and a bull-thistle +to umpire this muster?" shouted the foreman of the Ancients, to the +amazement of the brisk little man. + +"Why, he's the leadin' man in this section, and a Smyrna man at that," +explained the marshal. "I don't see how your company has got any kick +comin'. He's one of your own townsmen." + +"And that's why we know him better than you do," protested Hiram, +taking further cue from the glowering gaze of Cap'n Sproul. "You put +him out there with the tape, and you'll see--" + +"'Peace and politeness, and everybody happy,'" quoted Uncle Trufant, +maliciously. The serenity had departed from Foreman Look's face. + +"You don't pretend to tell me, do ye, that the Smyrna Ancients are +afraid to have one of their own citizens as a referee?" demanded the +brisk little man suspiciously. "If that's so, then there must be +something decayed about your organization." + +"I don't think they're down here to squirt accordin' to the rules +made and pervided," went on the ancient Vienna satirist. "They've +brought Bostin bags and a couple of wimmen, and are goin' to have +a quiltin'-bee. P'raps they think that Kunnel Gid Ward don't know +a fish-bone stitch from an over-and-over. P'raps they think Kunnel +Ward ain't ladylike enough for 'em." + +Not only had the serenity departed from the face of Foreman Look, +the furious anger of his notoriously short temper had taken its +place. + +"By the jumped-up jedux," he shouted, "you pass me any more of that +talk, you old hook-nosed cockatoo, and I'll slap your chops!" + +The unterrified veteran of the Viennese brandished his cane to +embrace the throng of his red-shirted townsmen, who had been crowding +close to hear. At last his flint had struck the spark that flashed +with something of the good old times about it. + +"And what do you suppose the town of Vienny would be doin' whilst +you was insultin' the man who was the chief of old Niag'ry Company +for twenty years?" he screamed. + +"There's one elephant that I know about that would be an orphin in +about fifteen seconds," growled one of the loyal members of the +Vienna company, the lust of old days of rivalry beginning to stir +in his blood. + +"Would, hey?" shouted an Ancient, with the alacrity of one who has +old-time grudges still unsettled. He put a sandwich back into his +basket untasted, an ominous sign of how belligerency was overcoming +appetite. "Well, make b'lieve I'm the front door of the orphin asylum, +and come up and rap on me!" + +With a promptitude that was absolutely terrifying the two lines of +red shirts began to draw together, voices growling bodingly, fists +clinching, eyes narrowing with the reviving hatred of old contests. +The triumphal entry of the Smyrna Ancients, their display of +prosperity, their monopoly of the plaudits and attention of the +throngs, the assumption of superior caste and manners, had stirred +resentment under every red shirt in the parade. But Vienna, +hereditary foe, seemed to be the one tacitly selected for the brunt +of the conflict. + +"Hiram!" pleaded his wife, running to him and patting his convulsed +features with trembling fingers. "You said this was all goin' to be +genteel. You said you were goin' to show 'em how good manners and +politeness ought to run a firemen's muster. You said you were!" + +By as mighty an effort of self-control as he ever exercised in his +life, Hiram managed to gulp back the sulphurous vilification he had +ready at his tongue's end, and paused a moment. + +"That's right! I did say it!" he bellowed, his eyes sweeping the crowd +over his wife's shoulder. "And I mean it. It sha'n't be said that +the Smyrna Ancients were anything but gents. Let them that think a +bunged eye and a bloody nose is the right kind of badges to wear away +from a firemen's muster keep right on in their hellish career. As +for us"--he tucked his wife's arm under his own--"we remember there's +ladies present." + +"Includin' the elephant," suggested the irrepressible Uncle Trufant, +indicating with his cane Imogene "weaving" amiably in the sunshine. + +Cap'n Sproul crowded close and growled into the ear of the venerable +mischief-maker: "I don't know who set you on to thorn this crowd of +men into a fight, and I don't care. But there ain't goin' to be no +trouble here, and, if you keep on tryin' to make it, I'll give you +one figger of the Portygee fandle-dingo." + +"What's that?" inquired Uncle Trufant, with interest. + +"An almighty good lickin'," quoth the peacemaker. "I ain't a member +of a fire company, and I ain't under no word of honor not to fight." + +The two men snapped their angry eyes at each other, and Uncle Trufant +turned away, intimidated for the moment. He confessed to himself that +he didn't exactly understand how far a seafaring man could be trifled +with. + +Vienna gazed truculently on Smyrna for a time, but Smyrna, obeying +their foreman's adjurations, mellowed into amiable grins and went +on with their lunches. + +"Where's that Spitz poodle with the blue ribbon?" inquired the Cap'n +of Hiram, having reference to the brisk little man and his side +whiskers. "It don't appear to me that you pounded it into his head +solid enough about our not standin' for Gid Ward." + +In the stress of other difficulties Hiram had forgotten the dispute +that started the quarrel. + +"Don't let's have any more argument, Hiram," pleaded his wife. + +"She's right, Cap'n," said the foreman. "Standin' up for your rights +is good and proper business, but it's a darn slippery place we're +tryin' to stand on. Let the old pirate referee. We can outsquirt 'em. +He won't dast to cheat us. I'm goin' to appoint you to represent +Smyrna up there at the head of the stream. Keep your eye out for a +square deal." + +"I don't know a thing about squirtin', and I won't get mixed in," +protested the Cap'n. But the members of the Smyrna company crowded +around him with appeals. + +"There's only this to know," urged Hiram. "The judges lay down sheets +of brown paper and measure to the farthest drop. All you've got to +do is keep your eye out and see that we get our rights. You'll only +be actin' as a citizen of our town--and as first selectman you can +insist on our rights. And you can do it in a gentlemanly way, +accordin' to the programme we've mapped out. Peace and +politeness--that's the motto for Smyrna." + +And in the end Cap'n Sproul allowed himself to be persuaded. + +But it was scarcely persuasion that did it. + +It was this plaintive remark of the foreman: "Are you goin' to stand +by and see Gideon Ward do us, and then give you the laugh?" + +Therefore the Cap'n buttoned his blue coat tightly and trudged up +to where the committee was busy with the sheets of brown paper, +weighting them with stones so that the July breeze could not flutter +them away. + +Starks, Carthage, and Salem made but passable showing. They seemed +to feel that the crowd took but little interest in them. The listless +applause that had greeted them in the parade showed that. + +Then, with a howl, half-sullen, half-ferocious, Vienna trundled old +Niagara to the reservoir, stuck her intake pipe deep in the water, +and manned her brake-beams. To the surprise of the onlookers her +regular foreman took his station with the rest of the crew. Uncle +Brad Trufant, foreman emeritus, took command. He climbed slowly upon +her tank, braced himself against the bell-hanger, and shook his cane +in the air. + +"Look at me!" he yelled, his voice cracking into a squall. "Look at +me and remember them that's dead and gone, your fathers and your +grands'rs, whose old fists used to grip them bars right where you've +got your hands. Think of 'em, and then set your teeth and yank the +'tarnal daylights out of her. Are ye goin' to let me stand here--me +that has seen your grands'rs pump--and have it said that old Niag'ry +was licked by a passul of knittin'-work old-maids, led by an elephant +and a peep-show man? Be ye goin' to let 'em outsquirt ye? Why, the +wimmen-folks of Vienny will put p'isen in your biscuits if you go +home beat by anything that Smyrna can turn out. Git a-holt them bars! +Clench your chaws! Now, damye, ye toggle-j'inted, dough-fingered, +wall-eyed sons of sea-cooks, give her tar--_give_--_her_--_tar!_" + +It was the old-fashioned style of exordium by an old-fashioned +foreman, who believed that the best results could be obtained by the +most scurrilous abuse of his men--and the immediate efforts of Vienna +seemed to endorse his opinion. + +With the foreman marking time with "Hoomp!--hoomp!" they began to +surge at the bars, arms interlaced, hands, brown and gristly, +covering the leather from end to end. The long, snaking hose filled +and plumped out with snappings. + +Uncle Trufant flung his hat afar, doubled forward, and with white +hair bristling on his head began to curse horribly. Occasionally he +rapped at a laggard with his cane. Then, like an insane +orchestra-leader, he sliced the air about his head and launched fresh +volleys of picturesque profanity. + +Old Niagara rocked and danced. The four hosemen staggered as the +stream ripped from the nozzle, crackling like pistol discharges. +There was no question as to Uncle Trufant's ability to get the most +out of the ancient pride of Vienna. He knew Niagara's resources. + +"Ease her!" he screamed, after the first dizzy staccato of the beams. +"Ease her! Steady! Get your motion! Up--down! Up--down! Get your +motion! Take holt of her! Lift her! Now--now--_now!_ For the last +ounce of wickin' that's in ye! Give her--_hell!_" + +It was the crucial effort. Men flung themselves at the beams. Legs +flapped like garments on a clothes-line in a crazy gale. And when +Uncle Trufant clashed the bell they staggered away, one by one, and +fell upon the grass of the square. + +"A hundred and seventeen feet, eight inches and one-half!" came the +yell down the line, and at the word Vienna rose on her elbows and +bawled hoarse cheers. + +The cheer was echoed tumultuously, for every man in the crowd of +spectators knew that this was full twenty feet better than the record +score of all musters--made by Smyrna two years before, with wind and +all conditions favoring. + +"That's what old times and old-fashioned cussin' can do for ye," +declared Uncle Trufant. + +A man--a short, squat man in a blue coat--came pelting down the street +from the direction of the judges. It was Cap'n Aaron Sproul. People +got out of his way when they got a glimpse of the fury on his face. +He tore into the press of Smyrna fire-fighters, who were massed about +Hecla, their faces downcast at announcement of this astonishing +squirt. + +"A hunderd and seventeen northin'! A hunderd and seventeen +northin'!" Cap'n Sproul gasped over and over. "I knowed he was in +to do us! I see him do it! It wa'n't no hunderd and seventeen! It's +a fraud!" + +"You're a liar!" cried Uncle Trufant, promptly. But the Cap'n refused +to be diverted into argument. + +"I went up there to watch Gid Ward, and I watched him," he informed +the Ancients. "The rest of 'em was watchin' the squirt, but I was +watchin' that land-pirut. I see him spit on that paper twenty feet +further'n the furthest drop of water, and then he measured from that +spit. That's the kind of a man that's refereein' this thing. He's +here to do us! He's paying off his old town-meetin' grudge!" + +"Oh, I can't think that of my brother!" cried the Cap'n's wife. + +"Remember, Hiram, that you've agreed--" began the cautious spouse +of the foreman, noting with alarm the rigid lines beginning to crease +her husband's face. + +"There ain't no mistake about his measurin' to that spit?" demanded +Hiram of the Cap'n, in the level tones of one already convinced but +willing to give the accused one a last chance. + +"He done it--I swear he done it." + +"I'd thought," pursued the foreman of the Ancients, "that a firemen's +muster could be made genteel, and would make a pleasant little trip +for the ladies. I was mistaken." At the look in his eyes his wife +began eager appeal, but he simply picked her up and placed her in +the van from which the lunch-baskets had been taken. "There's Mis' +Look," he said to the Cap'n. "She'll be glad to have the company of +Mis' Sproul." + +Without a word the Cap'n picked up Louada Murilla and placed her +beside the half-fainting Mrs. Look. Hiram closed the doors of the +van. + +"Drive out about two miles," he ordered the man on the box, "and then +let the ladies git out and pick bokays and enjoy nature for the rest +of the afternoon. It's--it's--apt to be kind of stuffy here in the +village." + +And the van rumbled away down the street toward the vista framed in +the drooping elms. + +"Now, gents," said Hiram to his men, "if this is a +spittin'-at-a-crack contest instead of a tub-squirt, I reckon we'd +better go to headquarters and find out about it." + +But at Smyrna's announced determination to raid the referee, Vienna +massed itself in the way. It began to look like the good old times, +and the spectators started a hasty rush to withdraw from the scene. + +But Vienna was too openly eager for pitched battle. + +To stop then and give them what they had been soliciting all day +seemed too much like gracious accommodation in the view of Foreman +Look. His business just at that moment was with Colonel Gideon Ward, +and he promptly thought of a way to get to him. + +At a signal the intelligent Imogene hooped her trunk about him and +hoisted him to her neck. Then she started up the street, brandishing +the trunk before her like a policeman's billy and "roomping" in +hoarse warning to those who encumbered her path. + +A charge led by an elephant was not in the martial calculations of +the Viennese. They broke and fled incontinently. + +Perhaps Colonel Gideon Ward would have fled also, but the crowd that +had gathered to watch the results of the hose-play was banked closely +in the street. + +"Make way!" bellowed Foreman Look. "There's only one man I want, and +I'm goin' to have him. Keep out of my road and you won't get hurt. +Now, Colonel Gideon Ward," he shouted, from his grotesque mount, as +that gentleman, held at bay partly by his pride and partly by the +populace, came face to face with him, "I've been in the circus +business long enough to know a fake when I see one. You've been caught +at it. Own up!" + +The Colonel snorted indignantly and scornfully. + +"You don't own up, then?" queried Hiram. + +"I'll give you five minutes to stop circusin' and get your tub +astraddle that reservoir," snapped the referee. + +"It occurs to me," went on Hiram, "that you can spit farther if you're +up a tree. We want you to do your best when you spit for us." + +Colonel Ward blinked without appearing to understand. + +But the foreman of the Smyrna Ancients immediately made it evident +that he had evolved a peculiar method of dealing with the case in +hand. He drove Imogene straight at the goggling referee. + +"Up that tree!" roared Hiram. "She'll kill you if you don't." + +Indeed, the elephant was brandishing her trunk in a ferocious manner. +A ladder was leaning against a near-by elm, and Colonel Ward, almost +under the trudging feet of the huge beast, tossed dignity to the winds. +He ran up the ladder, and Imogene, responding to a cuff on her head, +promptly dragged it away from the tree. + +"Only three minutes left to get Hecla into position," Hiram shouted. +"Referee says so. Lively with her!" + +Around and around in a circle he kept Imogene shambling, driving the +crowd back from the tree. The unhappy Colonel was marooned there in +solitary state. + +At first the Vienna company showed a hesitating inclination to +interfere with the placing of Hecla, suspecting something untoward +in the astonishing elevation of the referee. But even Uncle Trufant +was slow to assume the responsibility of interfering with a company's +right of contest. + +The Ancients located their engine, coupled the hose, and ran it out +with alacrity. + +"Colonel Ward," shouted Hiram, "you've tried to do it, but you can't. +If it's got to be dog eat dog, and no gents need apply at a firemen's +muster, then here's where we have our part of the lunch. Did you +measure in twenty extry feet up to your spit mark? Speak up! A quick +answer turneth away the hose!" + +By this time the crew was gently working the brakes of old Hecla. +The hose quivered, and the four men at the nozzle felt it twitching +as the water pressed at the closed valve. They were grinning, for +now they realized the nature of their foreman's mode of persuasion. + +Vienna realized it, too, for with a howl of protest her men came +swarming into the square. + +"Souse the hide off'm the red-bellied sons of Gehenna!" Hiram yelled, +and the hosemen, obedient to the word, swept the hissing stream on +the enemy. + +Men who will face bullets will run from hornets. + +Men who will charge cannon can be routed by water. + +The men at the brakes of old Hecla pumped till the tub jigged on her +trucks like a fantastic dancer. To right, to left, in whooshing +circles, or dwelling for an instant on some particularly +obstreperous Vienna man, the great stream played. Some were knocked +flat, some fell and were rolled bodily out of the square by the stream, +others ran wildly with their arms over their heads. The air was full +of leather hats, spinning as the water struck them. Every now and +then the hosemen elevated the nozzle and gave Colonel Gideon Ward +his share. A half-dozen times he nearly fell off his perch and flapped +out like a rag on a bush. + +"It certainly ain't no place for ladies!" communed Hiram with himself, +gazing abroad from his elevated position on Imogene's neck. "I +thought it was once, but it ain't." + +"Colonel Gideon Ward," he shouted to the limp and dripping figure +in the tree, "do you own up?" + +The Colonel withdrew one arm to shake his fist at the speaker, and +narrowly saved himself by instantly clutching again, for the +crackling stream tore at him viciously. + +"We'll drownd ye where ye hang," roared the foreman of the Ancients, +"before we'll let you or any other pirate rinky-dink us out of what +belongs to us." + +Like some Hindu magician transplanted to Yankeedom he bestrode the +neck of his elephant, and with his hand summoned the waving stream +to do his will. Now he directed its spitting force on the infuriated +Colonel; now he put to flight some Vienna man who plucked up a little +fleeting courage. + +And at last Colonel Ward knuckled. There was nothing else to do. + +"I made a mistake," he said, in a moment of respite from the stream. + +"You spit on the paper and measured in twenty extry feet jest as Cap'n +Aaron Sproul said you did," insisted Hiram. "Say that, and say it +loud, or we'll give old Hecly the wickin' and blow you out of that +tree." + +And after ineffectual oaths the Colonel said it--said it twice, and +the second time much the louder. + +"Then," bellowed the triumphant Hiram, "the record of old Hecly +Number One still stands, and the championship banner travels back +to Smyrna with us to-night, jest as it travelled down this mornin'." + +"Hain't you goin' to squirt?" asked some one posted safely behind +a distant tree. + +"If you'd been payin' 'tention as you ought to be you'd have jest +seen us squirtin'," replied the foreman of the Ancients with quiet +satire. "And when we squirt, we squirt to win." + +Cap'n Aaron Sproul turned away from a rapt and lengthy survey of +Colonel Ward in the tree. + +"Did you ever ride on an elephant, Cap'n Sproul?" inquired Hiram. + +"Never tried it," said the seaman. + +"Well, I want you to come up here with me. Imogene will h'ist you. +I was thinkin', as it's gettin' rather dull here in the village just +now"--Hiram yawned obtrusively--"we'd go out and join the ladies. +I reckon the company'd like to go along and set on the grass, and +pee-ruse nature for a little while, and eat up what's left in them +lunch-baskets." + +Ten minutes later the Smyrna Ancients and Honorables took their +departure down the street bordered by the elms. Hiram Look and Cap'n +Aaron Sproul swayed comfortably on Imogene's broad back. The +fife-and-drum corps followed, and behind marched the champions, +dragging Hecla Number One on its ruckling trucks. + +Then, with the bass drums punctuating and accenting, they sang: + + "Rip-te-hoo! And a hip, hip, holler! + We'll lick hell for a half a dollar!" + +And it wasn't till then that some bystander tore his attention away +long enough to stick a ladder up the elm-tree and let Colonel Gideon +Ward scrape his way despondently down. + + + + +XV + + +Probably Constable Zeburee Nute could not have picked out a moment +more inauspicious for tackling First Selectman Aaron Sproul on +business not immediately connected with the matter then in hand. + +First Selectman Sproul was standing beside a granite post, pounding +his fist on it with little regard to barked knuckles and uttering +some perfectly awful profanity. + +A man stood on the other side of the post, swearing with just as much +gusto; the burden of his remarks being that he wasn't afraid of any +by-joosly old split codfish that ever came ashore--insulting +reference to Cap'n Sproul's seafaring life. + +Behind Cap'n Sproul were men with pickaxes, shovels, and +hoes--listening. + +Behind the decrier of mariners were men with other shovels, hoes, +and pickaxes--listening. + +The granite post marked the town line between Smyrna and Vienna. + +The post was four miles or so from Smyrna village, and Constable Nute +had driven out to interview the first selectman, bringing as a +passenger a slim, pale young man, who was smoking cigarettes, one +after the other. + +They arrived right at the climax of trouble that had been brooding +sullenly for a week. In annual town-meeting Smyrna and Vienna had +voted to change over the inter-urban highway so that it would skirt +Rattledown Hill instead of climbing straight over it, as the fathers +had laid it out in the old days for the sake of directness; forgetting +that a pail bail upright is just as long as a pail bail lying +horizontal. + +First Selectman Sproul had ordered his men to take a certain +direction with the new road in order to avoid some obstructions that +would entail extra expense on the town of Smyrna. + +Selectman Trufant, of Vienna, was equally as solicitous about saving +expense on behalf of his own town, and refused to swing his road to +meet Smyrna's highway. Result: the two pieces of highway came to the +town line and there stopped doggedly. There were at least a dozen +rods between the two ends. To judge from the language that the two +town officers were now exchanging across the granite post, it seemed +likely that the roads would stay separated. + +"Our s'leckman can outtalk him three to one," confided one of the +Smyrna supporters to Constable Nute. "I never heard deep-water +cussin' before, with all the trimmin's. Old Trufant ain't got +northin' but side-hill conversation, and I reckon he's about run +down." + +Constable Nute should have awaited more fitting opportunity, but +Constable Nute was a rather direct and one-ideaed person. As manager +of the town hall he had business to transact with the first selectman, +and he proceeded to transact it. + +"Mister S'leckman," he shouted, "I want to introduce you to +Perfessor--Perfessor--I ain't got your name yit so I can speak it," +he said, turning to his passenger. + +"Professor Derolli," prompted the passenger, flicking his cigarette +ash. + +Cap'n Sproul merely shot one red glance over his shoulder, and then +proceeded with his arraignment of Vienna in general--mentally, +morally, socially, politically, and commercially. + +"The perfessor," bawled Constable Nute, unable to get his team very +near the selectman on account of the upheaved condition of the road, +"has jest arranged with me to hire the town hall for a week, and he +wants to arrange with the selectmen to borrow the use of the graveyard +for a day or so." + +The constable's vociferousness put the Cap'n out of voice, and he +whirled to find that his auditors had lost all interest in the road +dispute, and naturally, too. + +"To borrow the use of the graveyard, said privilege bein' throwed +in, considerin' that he hires the town hall for a week," repeated +the constable. + +Cap'n Sproul hated cigarettes; and he hated slim, pale young men who +dressed foppishly, classing all such under the general term "dude." +The combination of the two, attending the interruption of his +absorbing business of the moment, put a wire edge on his temper. + +"Graveyard! Yes!" he roared. "I'll appoint his funeral for two +o'clock this afternoon, and I'll guarantee to have the corpse ready." + +"In transactin' business it ain't no time for jokin'," protested the +direct Mr. Nute. + +"There's no joke to it," returned the Cap'n, viciously, seizing a +pickaxe. + +"It ain't much of a way for a first selectman of a town to act in +public," persisted Constable Nute, "when town business is put before +him." + +That remark and a supercilious glance from the professor through his +cigarette smoke brought the Cap'n on the trot to the side of the +wagon. + +"I'm 'tendin' to town business--don't you forget that! And I'm +'tendin' to it so close that I ain't got time to waste on any cheap +peep-show critters. Don't want 'em in town. Clear out!" + +"I'll make you sorry for insulting a gentleman," the professor +threatened. + +"Clear out!" insisted the Cap'n. "You ain't got any right drivin' +onto this road. It ain't been opened to travel--" + +"And it looks as though it never would be," remarked Constable Nute, +sarcastically; but, daunted by the glare in the Cap'n's eyes, he +began to turn his horse. "I want you to understand, S'leckman Sproul, +that there are two other s'leckmen in this town, and you can't run +everything, even if you've started in to do it." + +It was pointed reference to the differences that existed in the board +of selectmen, on account of Cap'n Sproul's determination to command. + +Two very indignant men rode away, leaving a perfectly furious one +standing in the road shaking his fists after them. And he was the +more angry because he felt that he had been hastier with the constable +than even his overwrought state of mind warranted. Then, as he +reflected on the graveyard matter, his curiosity began to get the +better of his wrath, and to the surprise of his Vienna antagonist +he abandoned the field without another word and started for Smyrna +village with his men and dump-carts. + +But dump-carts move slowly, and when the Cap'n arrived at the town +house Constable Zeburee Nute was nailing up a hand-bill that +announced that Professor Derolli, the celebrated hypnotist, would +occupy the town hall for a week, and that he would perform the +remarkable feat of burying a subject in the local graveyard for +forty-eight hours, and that he would "raise this subject from the +dead," alive and well. The ink was just dry on a permit to use the +graveyard, signed by Selectmen Batson Reeves and Philias Blodgett. +The grim experiment was to wind up the professor's engagement. In +the mean time he was to give a nightly entertainment at the hall, +consisting of hypnotism and psychic readings, the latter by "that +astounding occult seer and prophetess, Madame Dawn." + +Cap'n Sproul went home growling strong language, but confessing to +himself that he was a little ashamed to enter into any further contest +with the cigarette-smoking showman and the two men who were the +Cap'n's hated associates on the board of selectmen. + +That evening neighbor Hiram Look called with Mrs. Look on their way +to the village to attend the show, but Cap'n Sproul doggedly resisted +their appeals that he take his wife and go along, too. He opposed +no objection, however, when Louada Murilla decided that she would +accept neighbor Look's offer of escort. + +But when she came back and looked at him, and sighed, and sighed, +and looked at him till bedtime, shaking her head sadly when he +demanded the reason for her pensiveness, he wished he had made her +stay at home. He decided that Zeburee Nute had probably been busy +with his tongue as to that boyish display of temper on the Rattledown +Hill road. + +Hiram Look came over early the next morning and found the Cap'n +thinning beets in his garden. The expression on the visitor's face +did not harmonize with the brightness of the sunshine. + +"I don't blame you for not goin'," he growled. "But if you had an +idea of what they was goin' to do to get even, I should 'a' most +thought you'd 'a' tipped me off. It would have been the part of a +friend, anyway." + +The Cap'n blinked up at him in mute query. + +"It ain't ever safe to sass people that's got the ear of the public, +like reporters and show people," proceeded Hiram, rebukingly. "I've +been in the show business, and I know. They can do you, and do you +plenty, and you don't stand the show of an isuckle in a hot spider." + +"What are ye tryin' to get through you, anyway?" demanded the first +selectman. + +"Hain't your wife said northin' about it?" + +"She's set and looked at me like I was a cake that she'd forgot in +the oven," confided the Cap'n, sullenly; "but that's all I know about +it." + +"Well, that's about what I've had to stand in my fam'ly, too. I tell +ye, ye hadn't ought to have sassed that mesmerist feller. Oh, I heard +all about it," he cried, flapping hand of protest as the Cap'n tried +to speak. "I don't know why you done it. What I say is, you ought +to have consulted me. I know show people better'n you do. Then you +ain't heard northin' of what she said?" + +"If you've got anything to tell me, why in the name of the three-toed +Cicero don't you tell it?" blurted the Cap'n, indignantly. + +He got up and brushed the dirt off his knees. "If there's anything +that stirs my temper, it's this mumble-grumble, whiffle-and-hint +business. Out and open, that's my style." He was reflecting testily +on the peculiar reticence of his wife. + +"I agree with you," replied Hiram, calmly. But his mind was on another +phase of the question. "If she had been out and open it wouldn't have +been so bad. It's this hintin' that does the most mischief. Give folks +a hint, and a nasty imagination will do the rest. That's the way she's +workin' it." + +"She? Who?" + +"Your mesmerist fellow's runnin' mate--that woman that calls herself +Madame Dawn, and reads the past and tells the future." + +"There ain't nobody can do no such thing," snapped Cap'n Sproul. +"They're both frauds, and I didn't want 'em in town, and I was right +about it." + +"Bein' as how I was in the show business thirty years, you needn't +feel called on to post me on fakes," said Hiram, tartly. "But the +bigger the fake is the better it catches the crowd. If she'd simply +been an old scandal-monger at a quiltin'-bee and started a story +about us, we could run down the story and run old scandal-grabber +up a tree. But when a woman goes into a trance and a sperit comes +teeterin' out from the dark behind the stage and drops a white robe +over her, and she begins to occult, or whatever they call it, and +speaks of them in high places, and them with fat moneybags, and that +ain't been long in our midst, and has come from no one jest knows +where, and that she sees black shadders followin' 'em, along with +wimmen weepin' and wringin' of their hands--well, when a woman sets +on the town-hall stage and goes on in that strain for a half-hour, +it ain't the kind of a show that I want to be at--not with my wife +and yourn on the same settee with me." + +He scowled on the Cap'n's increasing perturbation. + +"A man is a darned fool to fight a polecat, Cap'n Sproul, and you +ought to have known better than to let drive at him as you did." + +"She didn't call names, did she?" asked the Cap'n. + +"Call names! Of course she didn't call names. Didn't have to. There's +the difference between scandal and occultin'. We can't get no bind +on her for what she said. Now here are you and me, back here to settle +down after roamin' the wide world over; jest got our feet placed, +as you might say, and new married to good wimmen--and because we're +a little forehanded and independent, and seem to be enjoyin' life, +every one is all ready to believe the worst about us on general +principles. Mossbacks are always ready to believe that a man that's +travelled any has been raising seventeen kinds of tophet all his life. +All she had to do was go into a trance, talk a little Injun, and then +hint enough to set their imaginations to workin' about us. Up to now, +judgin' by the way she's been lookin' at me, my wife believes I've +got seven wives strewed around the country somewhere, either alive +or buried in cellars. As to your wife, you bein' a seafarin' character, +she's prob'ly got it figgered that a round-up of your fam'ly circle, +admittin' all that's got a claim on you, would range all the way from +a Hindu to a Hottentot, and would look like a congress of nations. +In about two days more--imagination still workin', and a few old she +devils in this place startin' stories to help it along--our wives +will be hoppin' up every ten minutes to look down the road and see +if any of the victims have hove in sight. And what can we do?" + +Hiram lunged a vigorous kick straight before him. + +"Find me that hole I just made in the air and I'll tell you, Cap'n," +he added, with bitter irony. + +"It's--it's worse than what I figgered on," remarked the Cap'n, +despondently, after a thoughtful pause. "If a woman like Louada +Murilla will let herself get fooled and stirred up in that kind of +a way by a fly-by-night critter, there ain't much hope of the rest +of the neighborhood." + +"It's a kind of lyin' that there ain't no fightin'," Hiram asserted. +"And there are certain ones in this place that will keep it in the +air. Now I didn't sass that mesmerist. But I got it about as tough +as you did. I'll bet a thousand to one that Bat Reeves is gettin' +back at me for cuttin' him out with the widder. It's reasonable," +he declared, warming to the topic and checking items off on his stubby +fingers. "Here's your mesmerist rushin' hot to Reeves complainin' +about you and gettin' a permit from Reeves, along with a few pointers +about you for occult use. Reeves hates you bad enough, but he hates +me worse. And he sees to it that I get occulted, too. He ain't lettin' +a chance like that slip past as soon as that perfessor lets him see +what occultin' will do to a man. Why, condemn his hide and haslet, +I believe he swapped that permit for a dose of so much occultin'--and +I've got the dose." + +"I should hate at my age to have to start in and go to sea again," +mourned the Cap'n, after long meditation; "but I reckon I'll either +have to do that or go up in a balloon and stay there. There's too +many tricks for me on land. They ring in all they can think of +themselves, and then they go to work and get a ghost to help. I can't +whale the daylights out of the ghost, and I don't suppose it would +be proper for a first selectman to cuff the ears of the woman that +said females was followin' me, wailin' and gnashin' their teeth, but +I can lick that yaller-fingered, cigarette-suckin' dude, and pay the +fine for so doin'--and reckon I've got my money's worth." + +"You need a guardeen," snorted Hiram. "She will put on her robe and +accuse you of havin' the ghost of a murdered man a-chasin' you." + +The Cap'n grew white under his tan at this remark, made by Hiram in +all guilelessness, and the memory of a certain Portuguese sailor, +slipped overboard after a brief but busy mutiny, went shuddering +through his thoughts. + +"Ain't got anything like that on your conscience, have you?" demanded +the old showman, bluntly. + +"She didn't say anything only about women, did she?" evaded the +Cap'n. + +"Didn't notice anything last night. She may be savin' something else +for this evenin'," was Hiram's consoling answer. His air and the +baleful glance he bent on his neighbor indicated that he still held +that irascible gentleman responsible for their joint misfortune. And, +to show further displeasure, he whirled and stumped away across the +fields toward his home. + +Cap'n Aaron Sproul attended the show at the town hall that evening. + +He went alone, after his wife had plaintively sighed her refusal to +accompany him. He hadn't intended to go. But he was drawn by a certain +fatal fascination. He had a sailor's superstitious half-belief in +the supernatural. He had caught word during the day of some +astonishing revelations made by the seeress as to other persons in +town, either by lucky guess or through secret pre-information, as +his common sense told him. And yet his sneaking superstition +whispered that there was "something in it, after all." If that +mesmerist's spirit of retaliation should carry him to the extent of +hinting about that Portuguese sailor, Cap'n Sproul resolved to be +in that hall, ready to stand up and beard his defamers. + +Evidently Professor Derolli spotted his enemy; for Madame Dawn, in +order that vengeance should be certain of its mark, repeated the +vague yet perfectly obvious hints of the preceding evening; and Cap'n +Sproul was thankful for the mystic gloom of the hall that hid his +fury and his shame. He stole out of the place while the lights were +still low. He feared for his self-restraint if he were to remain, +and he realized what a poor figure he would make standing up there +and replying to the malicious farrago of the woman under the veil. + + + + +XVI + + +For the rest of the professor's engagement Cap'n Aaron Sproul and +Hiram Look kept sullenly to their castles, nursing indignant sense +of their wrongs. They got an occasional whiff of the scandal that +was pursuing their names. Though their respective wives strove with +pathetic loyalty to disbelieve all that the seeress had hinted at, +and moved in sad silence about their duties, it was plain that the +seed of evil had been planted deep in their imaginations. Poor human +nature is only what it is, after all! + +"Two better women never lived than them of ourn, and two that would +be harder to turn," said Hiram to the Cap'n, "but it wouldn't be human +nature if they didn't wonder sometimes what we'd been up to all them +years before we showed up here, and what that cussed occulter said +has torched 'em on to thinkin' mighty hard. The only thing to do is +to keep a stiff upper lip and wait till the clouds roll by. They'll +come to their senses and be ashamed of themselves, give 'em time and +rope enough." + +Second Selectman Batson Reeves busied himself as a sort of master +of ceremonies for Professor Derolli, acted as committee of +investigation when the professor's "stock subject" remained for a +day and night in a shallow trench in the village cemetery, and even +gave them the best that his widower's house could afford at a Sunday +dinner. + +In the early flush of an August morning about a week after the +departure of the hypnotic marvel and his companions, a mutual impulse +seemed to actuate Selectman Sproul and Hiram Look at a moment +surprisingly simultaneous. They started out their back doors, took +the path leading over the hill between their farms, and met under +the poplars at a point almost exactly half-way. It would be difficult +to state which face expressed the most of embarrassed concern as they +stood silently gazing at each other. + +"I was comin' over to your house," said Hiram. + +"I was startin' for yourn," said the Cap'n. + +Then both, like automatons pulled by the same string, dove hand into +breast-pocket and pulled out a crumpled letter. + +"Well, I'll be dummed!" quoth the two in one voice. + +"I don't understand northin' about it," said Hiram, plaintively. +"But whatever it is, it has put me in a devil of a fix." + +"If you're havin' any more trouble to your house than I'm havin' over +to mine, then you've somethin' that I don't begrudge you none," added +the Cap'n, gloomily. + +"Woman left it," related Hiram. "It was in the edge of the evenin', +and I hadn't come in from the barn. Woman throwed it onto the piazza +and run. Reckon she waited her chance so't my wife would get holt +of it. She did. She read it. And it's hell 'n' repeat on the Look +premises." + +"Ditto and the same, word for word," said the Cap'n. + +"The handwritin' ain't much different," said the ex-showman, +clutching Sproul's letter and comparing the two sheets. "But it's +wimmen's work with a pen--there ain't no gettin' round that." + +Then his voice broke into quavering rage as he went on. + +"You jest think of a lovin', trustin', and confidin' woman gettin' +holt of a gob of p'isen like that!" He shook the crackling sheet over +his head. "'Darlin' Hiram, how could you leave me, but if you will +come away with me now all will be forgiven and forgotten, from one +who loves you truly and well, and has followed you to remind you of +your promise.' My Gawd, Cap'n, ain't that something to raise a +blister on the motto, 'God Bless Our Home'?" + +"It's done it over to my house," said the Cap'n, lugubriously. + +"There never was any such woman--there never could have been any such +woman," Hiram went on in fervid protest. "There ain't nobody with +a license to chase me up." + +"Ditto and the same," chimed in Cap'n Sproul. + +"No one!" + +"No one!" echoed the Cap'n. + +They stood and looked at each other a little while, and then their +eyes shifted in some embarrassment. + +"Of course," said Hiram, at last, moderating his tone of indignation, +"when a man ain't had no anchor he might have showed attentions such +as ladies expect from gents, and sometimes rash promises is made. +Now, perhaps--you understand I'm only supposin'--perhaps you've got +some one in mind that might have misjudged what you said to her--some +one that's got a little touched in her head, perhaps, and she's come +here. In that case it might give us a clue if you're a mind to own +up." + +The Cap'n flushed at this clumsy attempt of Hiram to secure a +confidence. + +"Seein' that you've thought how it might be done all so quick and +handy, showin' what's on your mind, I reckon you'd better lay down +cards first," he said, significantly. + +"I think it's jest a piece of snigdom by some one tryin' to hurt us," +proceeded Hiram, boring the Cap'n with inquisitive gaze. "But you +never can tell what's what in this world, and so long as we're looking +for clues we might as well have an understandin', so's to see if +there's any such thing as two wimmen meetin' accidental and comparin' +notes and gettin' their heads together." + +"None for me," said the Cap'n, but he said it falteringly. + +"Well, there's none for me, either, but there's such a thing as havin' +what you've said misjudged by wimmen. Where the wimmen ain't +strong-headed, you know." He hesitated for a time, fiddling his +forefinger under his nose. "There was just one woman I made talk to +in my life such as a gent shouldn't have made without backin' it up. +If she'd been stronger in her head I reckon she'd have realized that +bein' sick, like I was, and not used to wimmen, and bein' so grateful +for all her care and attention and kindness and head-rubbin', I was +sort of took unawares, as you might say. A stronger-headed woman +would have said to herself that it wasn't to be laid up against me. +But as soon as I got to settin' up and eatin' solid food I could see +that she was sappy, and prob'ly wanted to get out of nussin' and get +married, and so she had it all written down on her nuss-diary what +I said, mixed in with temperature, pulse, and things. I--" + +Cap'n Sproul's eyes had been widening, and his tongue was nervously +licking wisps of whisker between his lips. + +"Was that in a Bost'n horsepittle?" he asked, with eager interest. + +"That's where. In the fall three years ago. Pneumony." + +"Mine was rheumatic fever two years ago," said the Cap'n. "It's what +drove me off'm deep water. She was fat, wasn't she, and had light +hair and freckles across the bridge of her nose, and used to set side +of the bed and hum: 'I'm a pilgrim, faint and weary'?" + +"Damme if you didn't ring the bell with that shot!" cried the old +showman in astonishment. + +"Well, it's just ditto and the same with me," said the Cap'n, rapping +his knuckles on his breast. "Same horsepittle, same nuss, same thing +generally--only when I was sickest I told her I had property wuth +about thutty thousand dollars." + +"So did I," announced Hiram. "It's funny that when a man's drunk or +sick he's got to tell first comers all he knows, and a good deal more!" +He ran his eyes up and down over Cap'n Sproul with fresh interest. +"If that don't beat tophet! You and me both at that horsepittle and +gettin' mixed up with the same woman!" + +"This world ain't got no special bigness," said the Cap'n. "I've +sailed round it a dozen times, and I know." + +The showman grasped the selectman by the coat-lapel and demanded +earnestly: "Didn't you figger it as I did, when you got so you could +set up and take notice, that she wasn't all right in her head?" + +"Softer'n a jelly-fish!" declared the Cap'n, with unction. + +"Then she's got crazier, and up all of a sudden and followed us--and +don't care which one she gets!" + +"Or else got sensibler and remembered our property and come around +to let blood." + +"Bound to make trouble, anyway." + +"She's made it!" The Cap'n turned doleful gaze over his shoulder at +the chimney of his house. + +"Bein' crazy she can make a lot more of it. I tell you, Cap'n, there's +only this to do, and it ought to work with wimmen-folks as sensible +as our'n are. We'll swap letters, and go back home and tell the whole +story and set ourselves straight. They're bound to see the right side +of it." + +"There ain't any reckonin' on what a woman will do," observed the +Cap'n, gloomily. "The theory of tellin' the truth sounds all right, +and _is_ all right, of course. But I read somewhere, once, that a +woman thrives best on truth diluted with a little careful and +judicious lyin'. And the feller seemed to know what he was talkin' +about." + +"It's the truth for me this time," cried Hiram, stoutly. + +"Well, then, ditto and the same for me. But if it's comin' on to blow, +we might as well get another anchor out. I'll start Constable Denslow +'round town to see what he can see. If he's sly enough and she's still +here he prob'ly can locate her. And if he can scare her off, so much +the better." + +Constable Denslow, intrusted with only scant and vague information, +began his search for a supposed escaped lunatic that day. Before +nightfall he reported to the Cap'n that there were no strangers in +town. However, right on the heels of that consoling information came +again that terror who travelled by night! In the dusk of early evening +another letter was left for Aaron Sproul, nor was the domicile of +Hiram Look slighted by the mysterious correspondent. + +Moved by common impulse the victims met in the path across the fields +next morning. + +"Another one of them bumbs dropped at my house last night!" stated +Hiram, though the expression on his countenance had rendered that +information superfluous. + +"Ditto and the same," admitted the Cap'n. "Haven't brought yourn, +have you?" + +"Wife's holdin' onto it for evidence when she gets her bill of +divorce," said Hiram. + +"Ditto with me," affirmed Cap'n Sproul. "Tellin' mine the truth was +what really started her mad up. It was just plain mystery up to that +time, and she only felt sorry. When I told her the truth she said +if it was that bad it would prob'ly turn out to be worse, and so long's +I'd owned up to a part of it I'd better go ahead and tell the rest, +and so on! And now she won't believe anything I try to tell her." + +"Same over to my place," announced his despondent friend. + +"It's your own cussed fault," blazed the Cap'n. "My notion was to +lie to 'em. You can make a lie smooth and convincin'. The truth of +this thing sounds fishy. It would sound fishy to me if I didn't know +it was so." + +"Since I got out of the circus business I've been tryin' to do +business with less lyin', but it doesn't seem to work," mourned Hiram. +"Maybe what's good for the circus business is good for all kinds. +Seems to be that way! Well, when you'd told her the straight truth +and had been as square as you could, what did you say to her when +she flared up?" + +"Northin'," answered the Cap'n. "Didn't seem to be northin' to say +to fit the case." + +"Not after the way they took the truth when it was offered to 'em," +agreed Hiram. "I didn't say anything out loud. I said it to myself, +and it would have broke up the party if a little bird had twittered +it overhead at a Sunday-school picnic." + +That day Jackson Denslow, pricked by a fee of ten dollars, made more +searching investigation. It was almost a census. Absolutely no trace +of such a stranger! Denslow sullenly said that such a domiciliary +visit was stirring up a lot of talk, distrust, and suspicion, and, +as he couldn't answer any questions as to who she was, where she came +from, and what was wanted of her, nor hint as to who his employers +were, it was currently stated that he had gone daffy over the +detective business. His tone of voice indicated that he thought +others were similarly afflicted. He allowed that no detective could +detect until he had all the facts. + +He demanded information and sneered when it was not given. + +It was an unfortunate attitude to take toward men, the triggers of +whose tempers had been cocked by such events as had beset Hiram Look +and Aaron Sproul. Taking it that the constable was trying to pry into +their business in order to regale the public on their misfortunes, +Hiram threw a town-ledger at him, and the Cap'n kicked at him as he +fled through the door of the office. + +That night each was met at the front door by hysterics, and a third +letter. The mystery was becoming eerie. + +"Dang rabbit her miserable pelt!" growled Hiram at the despairing +morning conference under the poplars. "She must be livin' in a hole +round here, or else come in a balloon. I tell you, Cap'n Sproul, it's +got to be stopped some way or the two families will be in the lunatic +asylum inside of a week." + +"Or more prob'ly in the divorce court. Louada Murilla vows and +declares she'll get a bill if I don't tell her the truth, and when +you've told the truth once and sworn to it, and it don't stick, what +kind of a show is a lie goin' to stand, when a man ain't much of a +liar?" + +"If she's goin' to be caught we've got to catch her," insisted Hiram. +"She's crazy, or else she wouldn't be watchin' for us to leave the +house so as to grab in and toss one of them letters. Looks to me it's +just revenge, and to make trouble. The darned fool can't marry both +of us. I didn't sleep last night--not with that woman of mine settin' +and boohooin'. I just set and thought. And the result of the thinkin' +is that we'll take our valises to-day and march to the +railroad-station in the face and eyes of everybody so that it will +get spread round that we've gone. And we'll come back by team from +some place down the line, and lay low either round your premises or +mine and ketch that infernal, frowzle-headed sister of Jim the Penman +by the hind leg and snap her blasted head off." + +"What be you goin' to tell the wimmen?" + +"Tell 'em northin'." + +"There'll be the devil to pay. They'll think we're elopin'." + +"Well, let 'em think," said Hiram, stubbornly. "They can't do any +harder thinkin' than I've been thinkin', and they can't get a divorce +in one night. When we ketch that woman we can preach a sermon to 'em +with a text, and she'll be the text." + +Cap'n Sproul sighed and went for his valise. + +"What she said to me as I come away curled the leaves in the front +yard," confided Hiram, as they walked together down the road. + +"Ditto and the same," mourned the Cap'n. + +At dusk that evening they dismounted from a Vienna livery-hitch on +a back road in Smyrna, paid the driver and dismissed the team, and +started briskly through the pastures across lots toward Hiram Look's +farm. + +An hour later, moving with the stealth of red Indians, they posted +themselves behind the stone wall opposite the lane leading into the +Look dooryard. They squatted there breathing stertorously, their +eyes goggling into the night. + +The Cap'n, with vision trained by vigils at sea, was the first to +see the dim shape approaching. When she had come nearer they saw a +tall feather nodding against the dim sky. + +"Let's get her before she throws the letter--get her with the goods +on her!" breathed Hiram, huskily. And when she was opposite they +leaped the stone wall. + +She had seasonable alarm, for several big stones rolled off the +wall's top. And she turned and ran down the road with the two men +pounding along fiercely in pursuit. + +"My Gawd!" gasped Aaron, after a dozen rods; "talk +about--gayzelles--she's--she's--" + +He didn't finish the sentence, preferring to save his breath. + +But skirts are an awkward encumbrance in a sprinting match. Hiram, +with longer legs than the pudgy Cap'n, drew ahead and overhauled the +fugitive foot by foot. And at sound of his footsteps behind her, and +his hoarse grunt, "I've got ye!" she whirled and, before the amazed +showman could protect himself, she struck out and knocked him flat +on his back. But when she turned again to run she stepped on her skirt, +staggered forward dizzily, and fell in a heap. The next instant the +Cap'n tripped over Hiram, tumbled heavily, rolled over twice, and +brought up against the prostrate fugitive, whom he clutched in a +grasp there was no breaking. + +"Don't let her hit ye," howled Hiram, struggling up. "She's got an +arm like a mule's hind leg." + +"And whiskers like a goat!" bawled the Cap'n, choking in utter +astonishment. "Strike a match and let's see what kind of a +blamenation catfish this is, anyhow." + +And a moment later, the Cap'n's knees still on the writhing figure, +they beheld, under the torn veil, by the glimmer of the match, the +convulsed features of Batson Reeves, second selectman of the town +of Smyrna. + +"Well, marm," remarked Hiram, after a full thirty seconds of amazed +survey, "you've sartinly picked out a starry night for a ramble." + +Mr. Reeves seemed to have no language for reply except some shocking +oaths. + +"That ain't very lady-like talk," protested Look, lighting another +match that he might gloat still further. "You ought to remember that +you're in the presence of your two 'darlin's.' We can't love any one +that cusses. You'll be smokin' a pipe or chawin' tobacker next." He +chuckled, and then his voice grew hard. "Stop your wigglin', you +blasted, livin' scarecrow, or I'll split your head with a rock, and +this town will call it good reddance. Roll him over onto his face, +Cap'n Sproul." + +A generous strip of skirt, torn off by Reeves's boot, lay on the +ground. Hiram seized it and bound the captive's arms behind his back. +"Now let him up, Cap," he commanded, and the two men helped the +unhappy selectman to his feet. + +"So it's you, hey?" growled Hiram, facing him. "Because I've come +here to this town and found a good woman and married her, and saved +her from bein' fooled into marryin' a skunk like you, you've put up +this job, hey? Because Cap'n Sproul has put you where you belong in +town business, you're tryin' to do him, too, hey? What do you reckon +we're goin' to do with you?" + +It was evident that Mr. Reeves was not prepared to state. He +maintained a stubborn silence. + +Cap'n Sproul had picked up the hat with the tall feather and was +gingerly revolving it in his hands. + +"You're a nice widderer, you are!" snorted Hiram. "A man that will +wear a deceased's clothes in order to help him break up families and +spread sorrow and misery round a neighborhood, would be a second +husband to make a woman both proud and pleased. Cap'n, put that hat +and veil back onto him. I'll hold him." + +Mr. Reeves consented to stand still only after he had received a +half-dozen open-handed buffets that made his head ring. + +"There!" ejaculated Hiram, after the Cap'n's unaccustomed fingers +had arranged the head-gear. "Bein' that you're dressed for company, +we'll make a few calls. Grab a-holt, Cap'n." + +"I'll die in my tracks right here, first," squalled Reeves, guessing +their purpose. But he was helpless in their united clutch. They +rushed him up the lane, tramped along the piazza noisily, jostled +through the front door, and presented him before Hiram's astounded +wife. + +"Mis' Look," said her husband, "here's the lady that's in love with +me, and that has been leavin' me letters. It bein' the same lady that +was once in love with you, I reckon you'll appreciate my feelin's +in the matter. There's just one more clue that we need to clinch this +thing--and that's another one of those letters. The Cap'n and I don't +know how to find a pocket in a woman's dress. We're holdin' this lady. +You hunt for the pocket, Mis' Look." + +The amazement on her comely face changed to sudden and indignant +enlightenment. + +"The miserable scalawag!" she cried. The next instant, with one +thrust of her hand, she had the damning evidence. There were two +letters. + +"She ain't delivered the one to darlin' Cap'n Sproul this evenin'," +Hiram remarked, persisting still in his satiric use of the feminine +pronoun. "If you'll put on your bonnet, Mis' Look, we'll all sa'nter +acrost to the Cap'n's and see that Louada Murilla gets hers. Near's +I can find out, the rules of this special post-office is that all +love-letters to us pass through our wives' hands." + +In the presence of Mrs. Sproul, after the excitement of the dramatic +entrance had subsided, the unhappy captive attempted excuses, +cringing pitifully. + +"I didn't think of it all by myself," he bleated. "It was what the +Dawn woman said, and then when I mentioned that I had some grudges +agin' the same parties she wrote the notes, and the perfessor planned +the rest, so't we could both get even. But it wasn't my notion. I +reckon he mesmerized me into it. I ain't to blame. Them mesmerists +has awful powers." + +"Ya-a-a-as, that's probably just the way of it!" sneered Hiram, with +blistering sarcasm. "But you'll be unmesmerized before we get done +with you. There's nothin' like makin' a good job of your cure, seein' +that you was unfort'nit' enough to get such a dose of it that it's +lasted you a week. Grab him, Cap'n." + +"What be ye goin' to do now?" quavered Reeves. + +"Take you down into the village square, and, as foreman of the Ancient +and Honer'ble Firemen's Association, I'll ring the bell and call out +the department, stand you up in front of them all in your flounces +fine, and tell 'em what you've been doin' to their chief. I guess +all the heavy work of gettin' even with you will be taken off'm my +hands after that." + +Reeves groaned. + +"As first selectman," broke in the Cap'n, "and interested in keepin' +bad characters out of town, I shall suggest that they take and ride +you into Vienny on a rail." + +"With my fife and drum corps ahead," shouted Hiram, warming to the +possibilities. + +"I'll die here in my tracks first!" roared the captive. + +"It's kind of apparent that Madame Dawn didn't give you lessons in +prophesyin', along with the rest of her instruction," remarked Hiram. +"That makes twice this evenin' that you've said you were goin' to +die, and you're still lookin' healthy. Come along! Look happy, for +you're goin' to be queen of the May, mother!" + +But when they started to drag him from the room both women interposed. + +"Hiram, dear," pleaded his wife, "please let the man go. Louada +Murilla and I know now what a scalawag he is, and we know how we've +misjudged both you and Cap'n Sproul, and we'll spend the rest of our +lives showin' you that we're sorry. But let him go! If you make any +such uproar as you're talkin' of it will all come out that he made +your wives believe that you were bad men. It will shame us to death, +Hiram. Please let him go." + +"Please let him go, Aaron," urged Mrs. Sproul, with all the fervor +of her feelings. "It will punish him worst if you drop him here and +now, like a snake that you've picked up by mistake." + +Cap'n Sproul and Hiram Look stared at each other a long time, +meditating. They went apart and mumbled in colloquy. Then the Cap'n +trudged to his front door, opened it, and held it open. Hiram cut +the strip that bound their captive's wrists. + +The second selectman had not the courage to raise his eyes to meet +the stares directed on him. With head bowed and the tall feather +nodding over his face he slunk out into the night. And Hiram and the +Cap'n called after him in jovial chorus: + +"Good-night, marm!" + +"This settling down in life seems to be more or less of a complicated +performance," observed Cap'n Sproul when the four of them were alone, +"but just at this minute I feel pretty well settled. I reckon I've +impressed it on a few disturbers in this town that I'm the sort of +a man that's better left alone. It looks to me like a long, calm spell +of weather ahead." + + + + +XVII + + +Mr. Gammon's entrance into the office of the first selectman of +Smyrna was unobtrusive. In fact, to employ a paradox, it was so +unobtrusive as to be almost spectacular. + +The door opened just about wide enough to admit a cat, were that cat +sufficiently slab-sided, and Mr. Gammon slid his lath-like form in +edgewise. He stood beside the door after he had shut it softly behind +him. He gazed forlornly at Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman. +Outside sounded a plaintive "_Squawnk!_" + +Cap'n Sproul at that moment had his fist up ready to spack it down +into his palm to add emphasis to some particularly violent +observation he was just then making to Mr. Tate, highway "surveyor" +in Tumble-dick District. Cap'n Sproul jerked his chin around over +his shoulder so as to stare at Mr. Gammon, and held his fist poised +in air. + +"_Squawnk!_" repeated the plaintive voice outside. + +Mr. Gammon had a head narrowed in the shape of an old-fashioned coffin, +and the impression it produced was fully as doleful. His neighbors +in that remote section of Smyrna known as "Purgatory," having the +saving grace of humor, called him "Cheerful Charles." + +The glare in the Cap'n's eyes failed to dislodge him, and the Cap'n's +mind was just then too intent on a certain topic to admit even the +digression of ordering Mr. Gammon out. + +"What in the name of Josephus Priest do I care what the public +demands?" he continued, shoving his face toward the lowering +countenance of Mr. Tate. "I've built our end of the road to the +town-line accordin' to the line of survey that's best for this town, +and now if Vienny ain't got a mind to finish their road to strike +the end of our'n, then let the both of 'em yaw apart and end in the +sheep-pastur'. The public ain't runnin' this. It's _me_--the first +selectman. You are takin' orders from _me_--and you want to +understand it. Don't you nor any one else move a shovelful of dirt +till I tell you to." + +Hiram Look, retired showman and steady loafer in the selectman's +office, rolled his long cigar across his lips and grunted +indorsement. + +"_Squawnk!_" The appeal outside was a bit more insistent. + +Mr. Gammon sighed. Hiram glanced his way and noted that he had a noose +of clothes-line tied so tightly about his neck that his flabby dewlap +was pinched. He carried the rest of the line in a coil on his arm. + +"Public says--" Mr. Tate began to growl. + +"Well, what does public say?" + +"Public that has to go around six miles by crossro'ds to git into +Vienny says that you wa'n't elected to be no crowned head nor no +Seizer of Rooshy!" Mr. Tate, stung by memories of the taunts flung +at him as surveyor, grew angry in his turn. "I live out there, and +I have to take the brunt of it. They think you and that old fool of +a Vienny selectman that's lettin' a personal row ball up the bus'ness +of two towns are both bedeviled." + +"She's prob'ly got it over them, too," enigmatically observed Mr. +Gammon, in a voice as hollow as wind in a knot-hole. + +This time the outside "_Squawnk_" was so imperious that Mr. Gammon +opened the door. In waddled the one who had been demanding +admittance. + +"It's my tame garnder," said Mr. Gammon, apologetically. "He was +lonesome to be left outside." + +A fuzzy little cur that had been sitting between Mr. Tate's +earth-stained boots ran at the gander and yapped shrilly. The big +bird curved his neck, bristled his feathers, and hissed. + +"Kick 'em out of here!" snapped the Cap'n, indignantly. + +"Any man that's soft-headed enough to have a gander followin' him +round everywhere he goes ought to have a guardeen appointed," +suggested Mr. Tate, acidulously, after he had recovered his dog and +had cuffed his ears. + +"My garnder is a gent side of any low-lived dog that ever gnawed +carrion," retorted Mr. Gammon, his funereal gloom lifting to show +one flash of resentment. + +"Look here!" sputtered the Cap'n, "this ain't any Nat'ral History +Convention. Shut up, I tell ye, the two of you! Now, Tate, you can +up killick and set sail for home. I've given you your course, and +don't you let her off one point. You tell the public of this town, +and you can stand on the town-line and holler it acrost into Vienny, +that the end of that road stays right there." + +Mr. Tate, his dog under his arm, paused at the door to fling over +his shoulder another muttered taunt about "bedevilment," and +disappeared. + +"Now, old button on a graveyard gate, what do you want?" demanded +Cap'n Sproul, running eye of great disfavor over Mr. Gammon and his +faithful attendant. He had heard various reports concerning this +widower recluse of Purgatory, and was prepared to dislike him. + +"I reckoned she'd prob'ly have it over you, too," said Mr. Gammon, +drearily. "It's like her to aim for shinin' marks." + +Cap'n Sproul blinked at him, and then turned dubious gaze on Hiram, +who leaned back against the whitewashed wall, nesting his head +comfortably in his locked fingers. + +"If she's bedeviled me and bedeviled you, there ain't no tellin' +where she'll stop," Mr. Gammon went on. "And you bein' more of a +shinin' mark, it will be worse for you." + +"Look here," said the first selectman, squaring his elbows on the +table and scowling on "Cheerful Charles," "if you've come to me to +get papers to commit you to the insane horsepittle, you've proved +your case. You needn't say another word. If it's any other business, +get it out of you, and then go off and take a swim with your old +web-foot--_there!_" + +Mr. Gammon concealed any emotion that the slur provoked. He came +along to the table and tucked a paper under the Cap'n's nose. + +"There's what Squire Alcander Reeves wrote off for me, and told me +to hand it to you. He said it would show you your duty." + +The selectman stared up at Mr. Gammon when he uttered the hateful +name of Reeves. Mr. Gammon twisted the noose on his neck so that the +knot would come under his ear, and endured the stare with equanimity. + +With spectacles settled on a nose that wrinkled irefully, the Cap'n +perused the paper, his eyes growing bigger. Then he looked at the +blank back of the sheet, stared wildly at Mr. Gammon, and whirled +to face his friend Look. + +"Hiram," he blurted, "you listen to this: 'Pers'nally appeared +before me this fifteenth day of September Charles Gammon, of Smyrna, +and deposes and declares that by divers arts, charms, spells, and +magic, incantations, and evil hocus-pocus, one--one--'" + +"Arizima," prompted Mr. Gammon, mournfully. The Cap'n gazed on him +balefully, and resumed: + +"'One Arizima Orff has bewitched and bedeviled him, his cattle, his +chattels, his belongings, including one calf, one churn, and various +ox-chains. It is therefore the opinion of the court that the first +selectman of Smyrna, as chief municipal officer, should investigate +this case under the law made and provided for the detection of witches, +and for that purpose I have put this writing in the hands of Mr. Gammon +that he may summon the proper authority, same being first selectman +aforesaid.'" + +"That is just how he said it to me," confirmed "Cheerful Charles." +"He said that it was a thing for the selectman to take hold of without +a minute's delay. I wish you'd get your hat and start for my place +now and forthwith." + +Cap'n Sproul paid no attention to the request. He was searching the +face of Hiram with eyes in which the light was growing lurid. + +"I'm goin' over to his office and hosswhip him, and I want you to +come along and see me do it." He crumpled the paper into a ball, threw +it into a corner, and stumped to the window. + +"It's just as I reckoned," he raged. "He was lookin' out to see how +the joke worked. I see him dodge back. He's behind the curtain in +his office." Again he whirled on Hiram. "After what the Reeves family +has tried to do to us," he declared, with a flourish of his arm +designed to call up in Mr. Look's soul all the sour memories of things +past, "he's takin' his life in his hands when he starts in to make +fun of me with a lunatic and a witch-story." + +Mr. Gammon had recovered the dishonored document, and was smoothing +it on the table. + +"That's twice you've called me a lunatic," he remonstrated. "You call +me that again, and you'll settle for slander! Now, I've come here +with an order from the court, and your duty is laid before you. When +a town officer has sworn to do his duty and don't do it, a citizen +can make it hot for him." Mr. Gammon, his bony hands caressing his +legal document, was no longer apologetic. "Be you goin' to do your +duty--yes or no?" + +"If--if--you ain't a--say, what have you got that rope around your +neck for?" demanded the first selectman. + +"To show to the people that if I ain't protected from persecution +and relieved of my misery by them that's in duty bound to do the same, +I'll go out and hang myself--and the blame will then be placed where +it ought to be placed," declared Mr. Gammon, shaking a gaunt finger +at the Cap'n. + +As a man of hard common sense the Cap'n wanted to pounce on the paper, +tear it up, announce his practical ideas on the witchcraft question, +and then kick Mr. Gammon and his gander into the middle of the street. +But as town officer he gazed at the end of that monitory finger and +took second thought. + +And as he pondered, Hiram Look broke in with a word. + +"I know it looks suspicious, comin' from a Reeves," said he, "but +I hardly see anything about it to start your temper so, Cap." + +"Why, he might just as well have sent me a writin' to go out and take +a census of the hossflies between here and the Vienny town-line," +sputtered the first selectman; "or catch the moskeeters in Snell's +bog and paint 'em red, white, and blue. I tell you, it's a dirty, +sneakin', underhand way of gettin' me laughed at." + +"I ain't a humorous man myself, and there ain't no--" began Mr. +Gammon. + +"Shut up!" bellowed the Cap'n. "It was only last week, Hiram, that +that old gob of cat-meat over there that calls himself a lawyer said +I'd taken this job of selectman as a license to stick my nose into +everybody's business in town. Now, here he is, rigging me out with +a balloon-jib and stays'ls"--he pointed a quivering finger at the +paper that Mr. Gammon was nursing--"and sendin' me off on a tack that +will pile me up on Fool Rocks. Everybody can say it of me, then--that +I'm stickin' my nose in. Because there ain't any witches, and never +was any witches." + +"Ain't witches?" squealed Mr. Gammon. "Why, you--" + +But Hiram checked the outburst with flapping palm. + +"Here!" he cried. "The two of you wait just a minute. Keep right still +until I come back. Don't say a word to each other. It will only be +wasting breath." + +He went out, and they heard him clumping up the stairs into the upper +part of the town house. + +He came back with several books in the hook of his arm and found the +two mute and not amiable. He surveyed them patronizingly, after he +had placed the books on the table. + +"Gents, once when I was considerably younger and consequently +reckoned that I knew about all there was to know, not only all the +main points, but all the foot-notes, I didn't allow anybody else to +know anything. And I used to lose more or less money betting that +this and that wasn't so. Then up would come the fellow with the +cyclopedy and his facts and his figgers. At last I was so sure of +one thing that I bet a thousand on it, and a fellow hit me over the +head with every cyclopedy printed since the time Noah waited for the +mud to dry. I got my lesson! After that I took my tip from the men +that have spent time findin' out. I'm more or less of a fool now, +but before that I was such a fool that I didn't know that I didn't +know enough to know that I didn't know." + +"What did you bet on?" inquired the Cap'n, with a gleam of interest. + +"None of your business!" snapped Hiram, a red flush on his cheek. +"But if I'd paid more attention to geography in my school than I did +to tamin' toads and playin' circus I wouldn't have bet." + +He opened one of the books that he had secured in his trip to the +town library. + +"Now, you say offhand, Cap, that there never was such a thing as a +witch. Well, right here are the figgers to show that between 1482 +and 1784 more than three hundred thousand wimmen were put to death +in Europe for bein' witches. There's the facts under 'Witches' in +your own town cyclopedy." + +Cap'n Sproul did not appear to be convinced. + +"There it is, down in black and white," persisted Hiram. "Now, how +about there never bein' any witches?" He tapped his finger on the +open page. + +"If the book says that, witches must be extinker than dodos. Your +cyclopedy don't say anything about any of 'em gettin' away and comin' +over to this country, does it?" + +"Of _course_ we've had 'em in this country," said Hiram, opening +another book. "Caught 'em by the dozen in Salem! Cotton Mather made +a business of it. You don't think a man like Cotton Mather is lettin' +himself be fooled on the witch question, do you? Here's the book he +wrote. A man that's as pious as Cotton Mather ain't makin' up lies +and writin' 'em down, and puttin' himself on record." + +"There's just as many witches to-day as there ever was," cried the +corroborative Mr. Gammon. "The trouble is they ain't hunted out and +brought to book for their infernal actions. There's hundreds and +hundreds of folks goin' through this life pestered all the time with +trouble that's made for 'em by a witch, and they don't know what's +the matter with 'em. But they can't fool me. I know witches when I +see 'em. And when she turns herself into a cat and--" + +"Does _what_?" demanded the Cap'n, testily. + +"Why, it wa'n't more'n three nights ago that I heard her yowlin' away +in my barn chamber, and there she was, turned into a cat most as big +as a ca'f, and I throwed an iron kittle at her and she come right +through the bottom of it like it was a paper hoop. There, now! What +have you got to say to that?" + +"That you are about as handy a liar as I ever had stand up in front +of me," returned the Cap'n, with animation. He whirled on Hiram and +gesticulated at the books. "Do you mean to tell me that you're +standin' in with him on any such jing-bedoozled, blame' foolishness +as this? I took you to be man-grown." + +"It's always easy enough to r'ar up in this world and blart that +things ain't so," snapped Hiram, with some heat. "Fools do that thing +right along. I don't want you to be that kind. Live and learn." + +"Witches or no witches, cyclopedy or no cyclopedy, what I want to +know is, do you want to have it passed round this community that the +two of us set here--men that have been round this world as much as +we have--and heard a man tell a cat-and-kittle story like that, and +lapped it down? They'll be here sellin' us counterfeit money and gold +bricks next." + +Hiram blinked a little doubtfully at Mr. Gammon, and his rope and +gander, and probably, under ordinary circumstances, would have +flouted that gentleman. But the authority of the encyclopedia gave +his naturally disputatious nature a stimulus not to be resisted. +Beating the page with the back of his hand, he assembled his proof +that there had been witches, that there are witches, and that there +will be more witches in the future. And he wound up by declaring that +Mr. Gammon probably knew what he was talking about--a statement that +Mr. Gammon indorsed with a spirited tale of how his ox-chains had +been turned into mighty serpents in his dooryard, and had thrashed +around there all night to his unutterable distress and alarm. Again +he demanded investigation of his case, and protection by the +authorities. + +In this appeal he was backed by Hiram, who volunteered his assistance +in making the investigation. And in the end, Cap'n Sproul, as first +selectman of Smyrna, consented to visit the scene of alleged +enchantment in "Purgatory," though as private citizen he criticised +profanely the state of mind that allowed him to go on such an errand. +He gnawed his beard, and a flush of something like shame settled on +his cheek. It seemed to him that he was allowing himself to be cajoled +into a mild spree of lunacy. + +"And there bein' no time like the present, and my horse bein' hitched +out there in the shed," advised Hiram, briskly, "why not go now? Did +you ride out from your place or walk?" he inquired of "Cheerful +Charles." + +"Walked," replied Mr. Gammon, dejectedly. "My hoss is bewitched, too. +Can't get him out of the stable." + +"We'll take you along with us," was Hiram's kindly proffer. + +"Him and that gander?" protested the Cap'n. + +"I can set in behind with the garnder under my arm," urged Mr. Gammon, +meekly. + +The Cap'n came around the table and angrily twitched the rope off +Mr. Gammon's neck. That much concession to the convenances he +demanded with a vigor that his doleful constituent did not gainsay. + +When they drove away the baleful eye of the first selectman spied +Squire Alcander Reeves furtively regarding them through the dingy +glass of his office window. + +"Me off witch-chasin' and him standin' there grinnin' at it like a +jezeboo!" he gritted. And he surveyed, with no very gracious regard, +his companions in this unspeakable quest. + +When they were well out of the village Mr. Gammon twisted his neck +and sought to impart more information over the back of the seat. + +"I tell you, she's a cooler when it comes to bedevilin'. She had an +old Leghorn hen that a mink killed just after the hen had brought +out a brood of chickens. And what do you s'pose she done? Why, she +went right to work and put a cluck onto the cat, and the cat has +brooded 'em ever since." + +The Cap'n emitted a snort of disgust. + +"And here we are, two sensible men, ridin' around over this town an' +tryin' to make head and tail out of such guff as that! Do you pretend +to tell me for one minute, Hiram Look, that you take any kind of stock +in this sort of thing? Now, just forget that cyclopedy business and +your ancient history for a few minutes and be honest. Own up that +you were arguin' to hear yourself talk, and that you're dragging me +out here to pass away the time." + +Hiram scratched his nose and admitted that now the Cap'n had asked +for friendly candor, he really didn't take much stock in witches. + +"There! I knew it!" cried the selectman, with unction and relief. +"And now that you've had your joke and done with it, let's dump out +old coffin-mug and his gander and turn round and go back about our +business." + +But Hiram promptly whipped along. + +"Oh, thunder!" he ejaculated. "While we're about it, we might as well +see it through. My curiosity is sort of stirred up." + +The Cap'n was angry in good earnest again. + +"Curiosity!" he snarled. "Now you've named it. I wouldn't own up to +bein' such a pickid-nosed old maid as that, not for a thousand +dollars!" + +Hiram was wholly unruffled. + +"How do you suppose any one ever knew enough to write a cyclopedy," +said he, "if they didn't go investigate and find out? They went +official, just as we are goin' now." + +Hiram seemed to take much content in that phase of the situation, +feeling that mere personal inquisitiveness was dignified in this +case under the aegis of law and authority. It was exactly this view +of the matter that most disturbed Cap'n Aaron Sproul, for that +hateful Pharisee, Squire Reeves, had supplied the law to compel his +own authority as selectman. + +He sat with elbows on his knees, gloomily surveying a dim reflection +of himself in the dasher of Hiram's wagon. In pondering on the +trammels of responsibility the sour thought occurred to him, as it +had many times in the past year, that commanding a town was a +different proposition from being ruler of the _Jefferson P. Benn_ +on the high seas--with the odds in favor of the __Benn__. + + + + +XVIII + + +The Cap'n had never visited that retired part of the town called +"Purgatory." He found Mr. Gammon's homestead to be a gray and unkempt +farm-house from which the weather had scrubbed the paint. The +front yard was bare of every vestige of grass and contained a clutter +that seemed to embrace everything namable, including a gravestone. + +"What be ye gettin' ready for--an auction?" growled the Cap'n, +groutily, his seaman's sense of tidiness offended. "Who do you expect +will bid in a second-hand gravestone?" + +"It ain't second-hand," replied the owner, reprovingly, as he eased +himself out of the wagon. "Mis' Gammon, my first wife, is buried there. +'Twas by her request. She made her own layin'-out clothes, picked +her bearers and music, and selected the casket. She was a capable +woman." + +"It's most a wonder to me that he ever took the crape off'm the +door-knob," remarked Hiram, in a husky aside to the Cap'n, not +intending to be overheard and somewhat crestfallen to find that he +had been. + +"I didn't for some time, till it got faded," explained Mr. Gammon, +without display of resentment. "I had the casket-plate mounted on +black velvet and framed. It's in the settin'-room. I'll show it to +you before you leave." + +Hiram pulled his mouth to one side and hissed under shelter of his +big mustache: "Well, just what a witch would want of _that_ feller, +unless 'twas to make cracked ice of him, blame me if I know!" + +Mr. Gammon began apprehensive survey of his domains. + +"Let's go home," muttered the Cap'n, his one idea of retreat still +with him. "What do you and I know about witches, anyway, even if there +are such things? We've done our duty! We've been here. If he gets +us to investigatin' it will be just like him to want us to dig that +woman up." + +His appeal was suddenly interrupted. Mr. Gammon, peering about his +premises for fresh evidences of witchcraft accomplished during his +absence, bellowed frantic request to "Come, see!" He was behind the +barn, and they hastened thither. + +"My Gawd, gents, they've witched the ca'f!" Their eyes followed the +direction of his quivering finger. + +A calf was placidly surveying them from among the branches of a +"Sopsy-vine" apple-tree, munching an apple that he had been able to +reach. Whatever agency had boosted him there had left him wedged into +the crotch of the limbs so that he could not move, though he appeared +to be comfortable. + +"It jest takes all the buckram out of me--them sights do," wailed +Mr. Gammon. "I can't climb up there and do it. One of you will have +to." He pulled out a big jackknife, opened it with his yellow teeth, +and extended it. + +"Have to do what?" demanded Hiram. + +"Cut off his ears and tail. That's the only way to get him out from +under the charm." + +But Hiram, squinting up to assure himself that the calf was +comfortable, pushed Mr. Gammon back and made him sit down on a pile +of bean-poles. + +"Better put your hat between your knees," he suggested, noting the +way Mr. Gammon's thin knees were jigging. "You might knock a sliver +off the bones, rappin' them together that way." + +He lighted one of his long cigars, his shrewd eyes searching Mr. +Gammon all the time. + +"Now," said he, tipping down a battered wheelbarrow and sitting on +it, "there's nothin' like gettin' down to cases. We're here official. +The first selectman of this town is here. Go ahead, Cap'n Sproul, +and put your questions." + +"Ask 'em yourself," snorted the Cap'n, with just a flicker of +resentful malice; "you're the witch expert. I ain't." + +"Well," retorted Hiram, with an alacrity that showed considerable +zest for the business in hand, "I never shirked duty. First, what's +her name again--the woman that's doin' it all?" + +"I want you to come and see--" began Mr. Gammon, apparently having +his own ideas as to a witch-hunt, but Hiram shook the big cigar at +him fiercely. + +"We ain't got time nor inclination for inspectin' coffin-plates, +wax-flowers, bewitched iron kittles, balky horses, and old ganders. +Who is this woman and where does she live, and what's the matter with +her?" + +"She's Arizima Orff, and that's her house over the rise of that land +where you can see the chimblys." Mr. Gammon was perfunctory in that +reply, but immediately his little blue eyes began to sparkle and he +launched out into his troubles. "There's them that don't believe in +witches. I know that! And they slur me and slander me. I know it. +I don't get no sympathy. I--" + +"Shut up!" commanded the chief of the inquisition. + +"They say I'm crazy. But I know better. Here I am with rheumaticks! +Don't you s'pose I know where I got 'em? It was by standin' out all +het up where she had hitched me after she'd rid' me to one of the +witch conventions. She--" + +"Say, you look here!" roared the old showman; "you stay on earth. +Don't you try to fly and take us with you. There's the principal +trouble in gettin' at facts," he explained, whirling on the Cap'n. +"Investigators don't get down to cases. Talk with a stutterer, and +if you don't look sharp you'll get to stutterin' yourself. Now, if +we don't look out, Gammon here will have us believin' in witches +before we've investigated." + +"You been sayin' right along that you did believe in 'em," grunted +the first selectman. + +"Northin' of the sort!" declared Hiram. "I was only showin' you that +when you rose up and hollered that there never was any witches you +didn't know what you were talkin' about." + +While Cap'n Sproul was still blinking at him, trying to comprehend +the exact status of Hiram's belief, that forceful inquisitor, who +had been holding his victim in check with upraised and admonitory +digit, resumed: + +"Old maid or widder?" + +"Widder." + +"Did deceased leave her that farm, title clear, and well-fixed +financially?" + +"Yes," acknowledged Mr. Gammon. + +"Now," Hiram leaned forward and wagged that authoritative finger +directly under the other's case-knife nose, "what was it she done +to you to make you get up this witch-story business about her? Here! +Hold on!" he shouted, detecting further inclination on the part of +Mr. Gammon to rail about his bedevilment. "You talk good Yankee +common sense! Down to cases! What started this? You can't fool me, +not for a minute! I've been round the world too much. I know every +fake from a Patagonian cockatoo up to and including the ghost of Bill +Beeswax. She done something to you. Now, what was it?" + +Mr. Gammon was cowed. He fingered his dewlap and closed and unclosed +his lips. + +"Out with it!" insisted Hiram. "If you don't, me and the selectman +will have you sued for slander." + +"Up to a week ago," confessed Mr. Gammon, gazing away from the blazing +eyes of Hiram into the placid orbs of the calf in the tree, "we was +goin' to git married. Farms adjoined. She knowed me and I knowed her. +I've been solemn since Mis' Gammon died, but I've been gittin' over +it. We was goin' to jine farms and I was goin' to live over to her +place, because it wouldn't be so pleasant here with Mis' Gammon--" + +He hesitated, and ducked despondent head in the direction of the +front yard. + +"Well, seconds don't usually want to set in the front parlor window +and read firsts' epitaphs for amusement," remarked Hiram, grimly. +"What then?" + +"Well, then all at once she wouldn't let me into the house, and she +shooed me off'm her front steps like she would a yaller cat, and when +I tried to find out about it that young Haskell feller that she's +hired to do her chores come over here and told me that he wasn't goin' +to stay there much longer, 'cause she had turned witch, and had put +a cluck onto the cat when the old hen--" + +"'Tend to cases! 'Tend to cases!" broke in Hiram, impatiently. + +"And about that time the things began to act out round my place, and +the Haskell boy told me that she was braggin' how she had me +bewitched." + +"And you believed that kind of infernal tomrot?" inquired the showman, +wrathfully. Somewhat to the Cap'n's astonishment, Hiram seemed to +be taking only a sane and normal view of the thing. + +"I did, after I went over and taxed her with it, and she stood off +and pointed her shotgun at me and said that yes, she was a witch, +and if I didn't get away and keep away she would turn me into a +caterpillar and kill me with a fly-spanker. There! When a woman says +that about herself, what be ye goin' to do--tell her she's a liar, +or be a gent and believe her?" Mr. Gammon was bridling a little. + +Hiram looked at "Cheerful Charles" and jerked his head around and +stared at the Cap'n as though hoping for some suggestion. But the +selectman merely shook his head with a pregnant expression of "I told +you so!" + +Hiram got up and stamped around the tree to cover what was evidently +momentary embarrassment. All at once he kicked at something in the +grass, bent over and peered at it, looked up at the calf, then picked +up the object on the ground and stuffed it deep into his trousers +pocket. + +"You said that chore feller's name was Haskell, hey?" he demanded, +returning and standing over Mr. Gammon. + +"Simmy Haskell," said the other. + +"Well, now, what have you done to _him_?" + +"Nothin'--never--no, sir--never nothin'!" insisted Mr. Gammon, with +such utter conviction that Hiram forebore to question further. He +whirled on his heel and started away toward the chimney that poked +above the rise of land. + +"Come along!" he called, gruffly, over his shoulder, and the two +followed. + +It was a trim little place that was revealed to them. A woman in a +sunbonnet was on her knees near some plants in the cozy front yard, +and a youth was wheeling apples up out of the orchard. + +The youth set down his barrow and surveyed them with some curiosity +as they came up to him, Hiram well ahead, looming with all his six +feet two, his plug-hat flashing in the sun. Hiram did not pause to +palter with the youth. He grabbed him by the back of the neck with +one huge hand, and with the other tapped against the Haskell boy's +nose the object he had picked up from the grass. + +"Next time you put a man's calf up a tree look out that you don't +drop your knife in the wrassle." + +"'Tain't my knife!" gasped the accused. + +"Lie to me, will ye? Lie to me--a man that's associated with liars +all my life? Not your knife, when your name is scratched on the +handle? And don't you know that two officers stood right over behind +the stone wall and saw you do it? Because you wasn't caught in your +cat-yowlin' round and your ox-chain foolishness and your other +didoes, do you think you can fool a detective like me? You come along +to State Prison! I _was_ intendin' to let you off if you owned up +and told all you know--but now that you've lied to me, come along +to State Prison!" + +There was such vengefulness and authority in the big man's visage +that the Haskell boy wilted in unconditional surrender. + +"He got me into the scrape. I'll tell on him. I don't want to go to +State Prison," he wailed, and then confession flowed from him with +the steady gurgle of water from a jug. "He come to me, and he says, +says he, 'He won't ever be no kind of a boss for you. If he marries +her you'll get fed on bannock and salt pork. He's sourer'n +bonny-clabber and meaner'n pig-swill. Like enough he won't keep help, +anyway, and will let everything go to rack and ruin, the same as he +has on his own place. I'm the one to stick to,' says he. 'I've got +a way planned, and all I need is your help and we'll stand together,' +he says, 'and here's ten dollars in advance.' And I took it and done +what he planned. I needed the money, and I done it. He says to me +that we'll do things to him to make him act crazy, and we'll tell +her that he's dangerous, and then you can tell him, says he, that +she's turned witch, and is doin' them things to him; ''cause a man +that has got his first wife buried in front of his doorstep is fool +enough to believe most anything,' says he." + +"Well," remarked Hiram, after a long breath, "this 'sezzer,' whoever +he may be, when he got to sezzin', seems to have made up his mind +that there was one grand, sweet song of love in this locality that +was goin' to be sung by a steam-calliope, and wind up with boiler +bustin'." + +"Why in devilnation don't you ask him who 'twas that engineered it?" +demanded Cap'n Sproul, his eyes blazing with curiosity. + +"An official investigation," declared Hiram, with a relish he could +not conceal, as he returned the Cap'n's earlier taunt upon that +gentleman himself, "is not an old maids' quiltin'-bee, where they +throw out the main point as soon's they get their hoods off, and then +spend the rest of the afternoon talkin' it over. Things has to take +their right and proper course in an official investigation. _I'm_ +the official investigator." + +He turned on Mr. Gammon. + +"What do you think now, old hearse-hoss? Have you heard enough to +let you in on this? Or do you want to be proved out as the original +old Mister Easymark, in a full, illustrated edition, bound in calf? +So fur's I'm concerned, I've heard enough on that line to make me +sick." + +This amazing demolishment of his superstition left Mr. Gammon +gasping. Only one pillar of that mental structure was standing. He +grabbed at it. + +"I didn't believe she was the witch till she told me so herself," +he stammered. "She never lied to me. I believed what she told me with +her own mouth." + +The Haskell boy, still in the clutch of Hiram, evidently believed +that the kind of confession that was good for the soul was full +confession. + +"I told her that the time you was dangerousest was when any one +disputed with you about not havin' the witches. I told her that if +you ever said anything she'd better join in and agree with you, and +humor you, 'cause that's the only way to git along with crazy folks." + +For the first time in many years color showed in the drab cheeks of +the melancholy Mr. Gammon. Two vivid red spots showed that, after +all, it was blood, not water, that flowed in his veins. + +"Dod lather you to a fritter, you little freckle-faced, snub-nosed +son of seco!" he yelped, shrilly. "I've been a mild and peaceable +man all my life, but I'm a good mind to--I'm a good mind to--" He +searched his meek soul for enormities of retribution, and declared: +"I'm a good mind to skin you, hide, pelt, and hair. I'll cuff your +ears up to a pick, any way!" But Hiram pushed him away when he +advanced. + +"There! That's the way to talk up, Gammon," he said, encouragingly. +"You are showin' improvement. Keep on that way and you'll get to be +quite a man. I was afraid you wasn't anything but a rusty marker for +a graveyard lot. If you don't keep your back up _some_ in this world, +you're apt to get your front knocked in. But I can't let you lick +the boy! This investigation is strictly official and according to +the law, and he's turned State's evidence. It's the other critter +that you want to be gettin' your muscle up for--the feller that was +tryin' to get the widder and the property away from you. All the other +evidence now bein' in, you may tell the court, my son, who was that +'sezzer.' You sha'n't be hurt!" + +"It was Mister Batson Reeves, the second selectman," blurted the +youth. + +There are moments in life when language fails, when words are vain; +when even a whisper would take the edge from a situation. Such a +moment seemed that one when Hiram Look and Cap'n Sproul gazed at each +other after the Haskell boy had uttered that name. + +After a time Hiram turned, seized the boy by the scruff of his coat, +and dragged him up to the front-yard fence, where the widow was gazing +at them with increasing curiosity. + +"Haskell boy," commanded Hiram, "tell her--tell her straight, and +do it quick." + +And when the confession, which went more glibly the second time, was +concluded, the investigator gave the culprit a toss in the direction +of the Gammon farm, and shouted after him: "Go get that calf down +out of that apple-tree, and set down with him and trace out your +family relationship. You'll probably find you're first cousins." + +Mrs. Orff had sunk down weakly on a bed of asters, and was staring +from face to face. + +"Marm," said Hiram, taking off his plug hat and advancing close to +the fence, "Cap'n Sproul and myself don't make it our business to +pry into private affairs, or to go around this town saving decent +wimmen from Batson Reeves. But we seem to have more or less of it +shoved onto us as a side-line. You listen to me! Batson Reeves was +the man that lied to the girl I was engaged to thirty years ago, and +broke us up and kept us apart till I came back here and licked him, +and saved her just in the nick of time. What do you think of a man +of that stamp?" + +"I didn't really like him as well--as well as--" quavered the widow, +her eyes on the appealing orbs of Mr. Gammon; "but I was told I was +in danger, and he wanted to be my protector." + +"Protector!" sneered Hiram. "Since he's been a widderer he's been +tryin' to court and marry every woman in the town of Smyrna that's +got a farm and property. We know it. We can prove it. All he wants +is money! You've just escaped by luck, chance, and the skin of your +teeth from a cuss that northin' is too low for him to lay his hand +to. What do you think of a man that, in order to make trouble and +disgrace for his neighbors, will dress up in his dead wife's clothes +and snoop around back doors and write anonymous letters to confidin' +wimmen?" + +"My Lawd!" gasped the widow. + +"We caught him at it! So, as I say, you've escaped from a hyena. Now, +Mr. Gammon only needs a wife like you to get him out of the dumps." + +Mr. Gammon wiped tears from his cheeks and gazed down on her. + +"Charles," she said, gently, "won't you come into the house for a +few minits? I want to talk to you!" + +But as Mr. Gammon was about to obey joyously, Hiram seized his arm. + +"Just a moment," he objected. "We'll send him right in to you, marm, +but we've got just a little matter of business to talk over with him." + +And when they were behind the barn he took Mr. Gammon by his +coat-collar with the air of a friend. + +"Gammon," said he, "what are you goin' to do to him? Me and the Cap'n +are interested. He'll be comin' here this evenin'. He'll be comin' +to court. Now, what are you goin' to do?" + +There was an expression on Mr. Gammon's face that no one had ever +seen there before. His eyes were narrowed. His pointed tongue licked +his lips. His thin hair bristled. + +"What are you goin' to do to him?" + +"Lick him!" replied Mr. Gammon. It was laconic, but it sounded like +a rat-tail file on steel. + +"You can do it!" said Hiram, cheerfully. "The Cap'n and I both have +done it, and it's no trouble at all. I was in hopes you'd say that!" + +"Lick him till his tongue hangs out!" said Mr. Gammon, with bitterer +venom. + +"That will be a good place to lay for him; right down there by the +alders," suggested the Cap'n, pointing his finger. + +"Yes, sir, lick him till his own brother won't know him." And Mr. +Gammon clicked together his bony fists, as hard as flints. + +"And that's another point!" said Hiram, hastily. "You've seen to-day +that I'm a pretty shrewd chap to guess. I've been round the world +enough to put two and two together. Makin' man my study is how I've +got my property. Now, Gammon, you've got that writin' by Squire +Alcander Reeves. When you said 'brother' it reminded me of what I've +been ponderin'. Bat Reeves has been making the Widder Orff matter +a still hunt. His brother wasn't on. When you went to the squire to +complain, squire saw a chance to get the Cap'n into a law +scrape--slander, trespass, malicious mischief--something! Them +lawyers are ready for anything!" + +"Reg'lar sharks!" snapped the selectman. + +"Now," continued Hiram, "after you've got Bat Reeves licked to an +extent that will satisfy inquirin' friends and all parties +interested, you hand that writin' to him! It will show him that his +blasted fool of a lawyer brother, by tryin' to feather his own nest, +has lost him the widder and her property, got him his lickin', and +put him into a hole gen'rally. Tell him that if it hadn't been for +that paper drivin' us out here northin' would have been known." + +Hiram put up his nose and drew in a long breath of prophetic +satisfaction. + +"And if I'm any judge of what 'll be the state of Bat Reeves's feelin's +in general when he gets back to the village, the Reeves family will +finish up by lickin' each other--and when they make a lawsuit out +of that it will be worth while wastin' a few hours in court to listen +to. How do you figger it, Cap'n?" + +"It's a stem-windin', self-actin' proposition that's wound up, and +is now tickin' smooth and reg'lar," said the Cap'n, with deep +conviction. "They'll both get it!" + +And they did. + +Cap'n Aaron Sproul and Hiram Look shook hands on the news before nine +o'clock the next morning. + + + + +XIX + + +Mr. Loammi Crowther plodded up the road. Mr. Eleazar Bodge stumped +down the road. + +They arrived at the gate of Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman of +Smyrna, simultaneously. + +Bathed in the benignancy of bland Indian summer, Cap'n Sproul and +his friend Hiram Look surveyed these arrivals from the porch of the +Sproul house. + +At the gate, with some apprehensiveness, Mr. Bodge gave Mr. Crowther +precedence. As usual when returning from the deep woods, Mr. Crowther +was bringing a trophy. This time it was a three-legged lynx, which +sullenly squatted on its haunches and allowed itself to be dragged +through the dust by a rope tied into its collar. + +"You needn't be the least mite afeard of that bobcat," protested Mr. +Crowther, cheerily; "he's a perfick pet, and wouldn't hurt the infant +in its cradle." + +The cat rolled back its lips and snarled. Mr. Bodge retreated as +nimbly as a man with a peg-leg could be expected to move. + +"I got him out of a trap and cured his leg, and he's turrible +grateful," continued Mr. Crowther. + +But Mr. Bodge trembled even to his mat of red beard as he backed away. + +"Him and me has got so's we're good friends, and I call him +Robert--Bob for short," explained the captor, wistfully. + +"You call him off--that's what you call him," shouted Mr. Bodge. "I +hain't had one leg chawed off by a mowin'-machine to let a cust hyeny +chaw off the other. Git out of that gateway. I've got business here +with these gents." + +"So've I," returned Mr. Crowther, meekly; and he went in, dragging +his friend. + +"I done your arrunt," he announced to the Cap'n. "I cruised them +timberlands from Dan to Beersheby, and I'm ready to state facts and +figgers." + +"Go ahead and state," commanded the Cap'n. + +"I reckon it better be in private," advised the other, his pale-blue +eyes resting dubiously on Hiram. + +"I ain't got no secrets from him," said the Cap'n, smartly. "Break +cargo!" + +"You'll wish you heard it in private," persisted Mr. Crowther, with +deep meaning. "It ain't northin' you'll be proud of." + +"I'll run along, I guess!" broke in the old showman. "It may be +something--" + +"It ain't," snapped the Cap'n. "It's only about them timberlands that +my wife owned with her brother, Colonel Gideon Ward. Estate wasn't +divided when the old man Ward died, and since we've been married I've +had power of attorney from my wife to represent her." His jaw-muscles +ridged under his gray beard, and his eyes narrowed in angry +reminiscence. + +"We've had two annual settlements, me and her brother. First time +'twas a free fight--next time 'twas a riot--third time, well, if +there had been a third time I'd have killed him. So I saved myself +from State Prison by dividin' accordin' to the map, and then I sent +Crowther up to look the property over. There ain't no secret. You +sit down, Hiram." + +"Considerin' the man, I should think you'd have done your lookin' +over before you divided," suggested the showman. He scented doleful +possibilities in Mr. Crowther's mien. + +"If I'd done business with him fifteen minutes longer by the clock +I'd have been in prison now for murder--and it would have been a +bloody murder at that," blurted the Cap'n. "It had to be over and +done with short and sharp. He took half. I took half. Passed papers. +He got away just before I lost control of myself. Narrowest escape +I ever had. All I know about the part I've got is that it's well wooded +and well watered." + +"It is," agreed Mr. Crowther, despondently. "It's the part where the +big reservoir dam flows back for most twenty miles. You can sail all +over it in a bo't, and cut toothpicks from the tops of the +second-growth birch. He collected all the flowage damages. He's +lumbered the rest of your half till there ain't northin' there but +hoop poles and battens. All the standin' timber wuth anything is on +his half. I wouldn't swap a brimstun' dump in Tophet for your half." + +"How in the devil did you ever let yourself get trimmed that way?" +demanded Hiram. "It's all right for ten-year-old boys to swap +jack-knives, sight unseen, but how a man grown would do a thing like +you done I don't understand." + +"Nor I," agreed the Cap'n, gloomily. "I reckon about all I was +thinkin' of was lettin' him get away before I had blood on my hands. +I'm afraid of my own self sometimes. And it's bad in the family when +you kill a brother-in-law. I took half. He took half. Bein' a +sailorman, I reckoned that land was land, acre for acre." + +"The only man I ever heard of as bein' done wuss," continued Mr. +Crowther, "was a city feller that bought a quarter section of +township 'Leven for a game-preserve, and found when he got up there +that it was made up of Misery Bog and the south slope of Squaw Mountain, +a ledge, and juniper bushes. The only game that could stay there was +swamp-swogons, witherlicks, and doodywhackits." + +"What's them?" inquired the Cap'n, as though he hoped that he might +at least have these tenants on his worthless acres. + +"Woods names for things that there ain't none of," vouchsafed Mr. +Crowther. "You owe me for twenty-two days' work, nine shillin's a +day, amountin' to--" + +"Here! Take that and shut up!" barked the Cap'n, shoving bills at +him. Then he wagged a stubby finger under Mr. Crowther's nose. "Now +you mark well what I say to you! This thing stays right here among +us. If I hear of one yip comin' from you about the way I've been done, +I'll come round to your place and chop you into mince-meat and feed +you to that animile there!" + +"Oh, I'm ashamed enough for you so that I won't ever open my mouth," +cried Mr. Crowther. He went out through the gate, dragging his sulky +captive. + +"And you needn't worry about me, neither," affirmed Mr. Bodge, who +had been standing unnoted in the shadow of the woodbine. + +"Of course," he continued, "I ain't got so thick with either of you +gents as some others has in this place, never likin' to push myself +in where I ain't wanted. But I know you are both gents and willin' +to use them right that uses you right." + +It was not exactly a veiled threat, but it was a hint that checked +certain remarks that the Cap'n was about to address to the +eavesdropper. + +Mr. Bodge took advantage of the truce, and seated himself on the edge +of the porch, his peg-leg sticking straight out in forlorn nakedness. + +"Investments is resky things in these days, Cap'n Sproul. +Gold-mines--why, you can't see through 'em, nor the ones that run +'em. And mark what has been done to you when you invested in the forest +primeval! I knowed I was comin' here at just the right time. I've +got a wonderful power for knowin' them things. So I came. I'm here. +You need a good investment to square yourself for a poor one. Here +it is!" He pulled off his dented derby and patted his bald head. + +"Skatin'-rink?" inquired the Cap'n, sarcastically. + +"Brains!" boomed Mr. Bodge, solemnly. "But in these days brains have +to be backed with capital. I've tried to fight it out, gents, on my +own hook. I said to myself right along, 'Brains has got to win in +the end, Bodge. Keep on!' But have they? No! Five hundred partunts, +gents, locked up in the brains of Eleazar Bodge! Strugglin' to get +out! And capital pooled against me! Ignoramuses foolin' the world +with makeshifts because they've got capital behind 'em to boost them +and keep others down--and Bodge with five hundred partunts right here +waitin'." Again he patted the shiny sphere shoved above the riot of +hair and whiskers. + +The Cap'n scrutinized the surface with sullen interest. + +"They'd better stay inside, whatever they are you're talkin' about," +he growled. "They couldn't pick up no kind of a livin' on the +outside." + +"Gents, do you know what's the most solemn sound in all nature?" Mr. +Bodge went on. "I heard it as I came away from my house. It was my +woman with the flour-barrel ended up and poundin' on the bottom with +the rollin'-pin to get out enough for the last batch of biscuit. The +long roll beside the graves of departed heroes ain't so sad as that +sound. I see my oldest boy in the dooryard with the toes of his boots +yawed open like sculpins' mouths. My daughter has outgrown her dress +till she has to wear two sets of wristers to keep her arms warm--and +she looks like dressed poultry. And as for me, I don't dare to set +down enough to get real rested, because my pants are so thin I'm +afraid I can't coax 'em along through next winter. I've come to the +place, gents, where I've give up. I can't fight the trusts any longer +without some backin'. I've got to have somebody take holt of me and +get what's in me out. I reelize it now. It's in me. Once out it will +make me and all them round me rich like a--a--" + +When Mr. Bodge halted for a simile Hiram grunted under his breath: +"Like a compost heap." + +"I was born the way I am--with something about me that the common +run of men don't have. How is it my brains gallop when other brains +creep? It's that mysterious force in me. Seein' is believin'. Proof +is better than talkin'. Cap'n Sproul, you just take hold of one of +my whiskers and yank it out. Take any one, so long's it's a good +lengthy one." + +His tone was that of a sleight-of-hand man offering a pack of cards +for a draw. + +The Cap'n obeyed after Mr. Bodge had repeated his request several +times, shoving his mat of beard out invitingly. + +Mr. Bodge took the whisker from the Cap'n's hand, pinched its butt +firmly between thumb and forefinger and elevated it in front of his +face. It stuck straight up. Then it began to bend until its tip almost +touched his lips. A moment thus and it bent in the other direction. + +"There!" cried Mr. Bodge, triumphantly. "Thomas A. Edison himself +couldn't do that with one of his whiskers." + +"You're right," returned Hiram, gravely. "He'd have to borrow one." + +"A man that didn't understand electricity and the forces of nature, +and that real brains of a genius are a regular dynamo, might think +that I done that with my breath. But there is a strange power about +me. All it needs is capital to develop it. You've got the capital, +you gents. This ain't any far-away investment. It's right here at +home. I'm all business when it comes to business." He stuck up a grimy +finger. "You've got to concede the mysterious power because you've +seen it for yourselves. Now you come over to my house with me and +I'll show you a few inventions that I've been able to put into shape +in spite of the damnable combination of the trusts." + +He slid off the porch and started away, beckoning them after him with +the battered derby. + +"I've heard 'em buzz in my time, too," sneered Hiram, pushing back +his plug hat, "but that hummin' is about the busiest yet. He could +hold a lighted taller candle in his hand and jump off'm a roof and +think he was a comet." + +But the Cap'n did not seem to be disposed to echo this scorn. + +"This here I've got may be only a notion, and it prob'ly is," he said, +knotting his gray brows, "and it don't seem sensible. First sight +of him you wouldn't think he could be used. But when I laid eyes on +old Dot-and-carry-one there, and when he grabbed into this thing the +way he did just as I was thinkin' hard of what Colonel Gid Ward has +done to me, it came over me that I was goin' to find a use for him." + +"How?" persisted the utilitarian Hiram. + +"Don't have the least idea," confessed the Cap'n. "It's like pickin' +up a stockin' full of wet mud and walkin' along hopin' that you'll +meet the man you want to swat with it. I'm goin' to pick him up." + +He stumped off the piazza and followed Mr. Bodge. And Hiram, stopping +to relight his cigar, went along, too, reflecting that when a man +has plenty of time on his hands he can afford to spend a little of +it on the gratification of curiosity. + +The first exhibits in the domain of Bodge were not cheering or +suggestive of value. For instance, from among the litter in a +tumble-down shop Mr. Bodge produced something in the shape of a +five-pointed star that he called his "Anti-stagger Shoe." + +"I saw old Ike Bradley go past here with a hard-cider jag that looped +over till its aidges dragged on the ground," he explained. "I tied +cross-pieces onto his feet and he went along all level. Now see how +a quick mind like mine acts? Here's the anti-stagger shoe. To be kept +in all city clubs and et cetry. Let like umbrellas. Five places in +each shoe for a man to shove his foot. Can't miss it. Then he starts +off braced front, sides, and behind." + +Hiram sniffed and the Cap'n was pensive, his thoughts apparently +active, but not concerned in any way with the "Anti-stagger Shoe." + +The "Patent Cat Identifier and Introducer," exhibited in actual +operation in the Bodge home, attracted more favorable attention from +inspecting capital. Mr. Bodge explained that this device allowed a +hard-working man to sleep after he once got into bed, and saved his +wife from running around nights in her bare feet and getting cold +and incurring disease and doctors' bills. It was an admitted fact +in natural history, he stated, that the uneasy feline is either +yowling to be let out or meowing on the window-sill to be let in. +With quiet pride the inventor pointed to a panel in the door, hinged +at the top. This permitted egress, but not ingress. + +"An ordinary, cheap inventor would have had the panel swing both +ways," said Mr. Bodge, "and he would have a kitchen full of strange +cats, with a skunk or two throwed in for luck. You see that I've hinged +a pane of winder-glass and hitched it to a bevelled stick that tips +inward. Cat gets up on the sill outside and meows. Dog runs to the +winder and stands up to see, and puts his paws on the stick because +it's his nature for to do so. Pane tips in. If it's our cat, dog don't +stop her comin' in. If it's a strange cat--br-r-r, wow-wow! Off she +goes!" + +Mr. Bodge noted with satisfaction the gleam of interest in capital's +eyes. + +"You can reckon that at least a million families in this country own +cats--and the nature of cats and dogs can be depended on to be the +same," said Mr. Bodge. "It's a self-actin' proposition, this +identifier and introducer; that means fortunes for all concerned +just as soon as capital gets behind it. And I've got five hundred +bigger partunts wrasslin' around in my head." + +But Cap'n Sproul continued to be absorbed in thought, as though the +solution of a problem still eluded him. + +"But if capital takes holt of me," proceeded Mr. Bodge, "I want +capital to have the full layout. There ain't goin' to be no reserves, +the same as there is with most of these cheatin' corporations these +days. You come with me." + +They followed him into a scraggly orchard, and he broke a crotched +limb from a tree. With a "leg" of this twig clutched firmly in either +hand he stumped about on the sward until the crotch suddenly turned +downward. + +"There's runnin' water there," announced the wizard, stabbing the +soil with his peg-leg. "I can locate a well anywhere, any place. When +I use willer for a wand it will twist in my hands till the bark peels +off. You see, I'm full of it--whatever it is. I showed you that much +with the whisker. I started in easy with you. It makes me dizzy +sometimes to foller myself. I have to be careful and let out a link +at a time, or I'd take folks right off'm their feet. Now you come +with me and keep cool--or as cool as you can, because I'm goin' to +tell you something that will give you sort of a mind-colic if you +ain't careful how you take it in." + +He pegged ahead of them, led the way around behind a barn that was +skeow-wowed in the last stages of dilapidation, and faced them with +excitement vibrating his streaming whiskers. + +"This, now," he declared, "is just as though I took you into a +national bank, throwed open the safe door, and said: 'Gents, help +yourselves!'" + +He drew a curious object out of the breast pocket of his faded jumper. +It was the tip of a cow's horn securely plugged. Into this plug were +inserted two strips of whalebone, and these he grasped, as he had +clutched the "legs" of the apple-tree wand. + +"One of you lay some gold and silver down on the ground," he requested. +"I'd do it, but I ain't got a cent in my pocket." + +Hiram obeyed, his expression plainly showing his curiosity. + +When Mr. Bodge advanced and stood astride over the money, the cow's +horn turned downward and the whalebone strips twisted. + +"It's a divinin'-rod to find buried treasure," said Mr. Bodge; "and +it's the only one in the world like it, because I made it myself, +and I wouldn't tell an angel the secret of the stuff I've plugged +in there. You see for yourself what it will do when it comes near +gold or silver." + +Hiram turned a cold stare on his wistful eagerness. + +"I don't know what you've got in there, nor why it acts that way," +said the showman, "but from what I know about money, the most of it's +well taken care of by the men that own it; and just what good it's +goin' to do to play pointer-dog with that thing there, and go round +and flush loose change and savin's-banks, is more than I can figger." + +Mr. Bodge merely smiled a mysterious and superior smile. + +"Cap'n Sproul," said he, "in your seafarin' days didn't you used to +hear the sailormen sing this?" and he piped in weak falsetto: + + "Oh, I've been a ghost on Cod Lead Nubble, + Sence I died--sence I died. + I buried of it deep with a lot of trouble, + And the chist it was in was locked up double, + And I'm a-watchin' of it still on Cod Lead Nubble, + Sence I died--sence I died." + +"It's the old Cap Kidd song," admitted the Cap'n, a gleam of new +interest in his eyes. + +"As a seafarin' man you know that there was a Cap'n Kidd, don't you?" + +Cap'n Sproul wagged nod of assent. + +"He sailed and he sailed, and he robbed, and he buried his treasure, +ain't that so?" + +"I believe that's the idea," said the Cap'n, conservatively. + +"And it's still buried, because it ain't been dug up, or else we'd +have heard of it. Years ago I read all that hist'ry ever had to say +about it. I said then to myself, 'Bodge,' says I, 'if the treasure +of old Cap Kidd is ever found, it will be you with your wonderful +powers that will find it!' I always said that to myself. I know it +now. Here's the tool." He shook the cow's horn under the Cap'n's nose. + +"Why ain't you been down and dug it up?" asked Hiram, with cold +practicality. + +"Diggin' old Cap Kidd's treasure ain't like digging a mess of +potaters for dinner, Mr. Look. The song says 'Cod Lead Nubble.' Old +Cap Kidd composed that song, and he put in the wrong place just to +throw folks off'm the track. But if I had capital behind me I'd hire +a schooner and sail round them islands down there, one after the +other; and with that power that's in me I could tell the right island +the minute I got near it. Then set me ashore and see how quick this +divinin'-rod would put me over that chist! But it's buried deep. It's +goin' to take muscle and grit to dig it up. But the right crew can +do it--and that's where capital comes in. Capital ain't ever tackled +it right, and that's why capital ain't got hold of that treasure." + +"I reckon I'll be movin' along," remarked Hiram, with resentment +bristling the horns of his mustache; "it's the first time I ever had +a man pick me out as a candidate for a gold brick, and the feelin' +ain't a pleasant one." + +But the Cap'n grasped his arm with detaining grip. + +"This thing is openin' up. It ain't all clear, but it's openin'. I +had instink that I could use him. But I couldn't figger it. It ain't +all straightened out in my mind yet. But when you said 'gold brick' +it seemed to be clearer." + +Hiram blinked inquiringly at his enigmatic friend. + +"It was what I was thinkin' of--gold brick," the Cap'n went on. "I +thought that prob'ly you knew some stylish and reliable +gold-bricker--havin' met same when you was travellin' round in the +show business." + +Replying to Mr. Look's indignant snort Cap'n Sproul hastened to say: +"Oh, I don't mean that you had any gold-bricker friends, but that +you knew one I could hire. Probably, though, you don't know of any. +Most like you don't. I realize that the gold-bricker idea ain't the +one to use. There's the trouble in findin' a reliable one. And even +when the feller got afoul of him, the chances are the old land-pirut +would steal the brick. This here"--jabbing thumb at Mr. Bodge--"is +fresher bait. I believe the old shark will gobble it if he's fished +for right. What's your idea?" + +"Well, generally speakin'," drawled Hiram, sarcastically, "it is +that you've got softenin' of the brain. I can't make head or tail +out of anything that you're sayin'." + +Cap'n Sproul waked suddenly from the reverie in which he had been +talking as much to himself as to Hiram. + +"Say, look here, you can understand this, can't you, that I've been +done out of good property--buncoed by a jeeroosly old hunk of +hornbeam?" + +"Oh, I got bulletins on that, all right," assented Hiram. + +"Well, from what you know of me, do you think I'm the kind of a man +that's goin' to squat like a hen in a dust-heap and not do him? Law? +To Tophet with your law! Pneumony, lightnin', and lawyers--they're +the same thing spelled different. I'm just goin' to do him, that's +all, and instink is whisperin' how." He turned his back on the showman +and ran calculating eye over Mr. Bodge. + +"I don't hardly see how that old hair mattress there is goin' to be +rung in on the deal," growled Hiram. + +"Nor I," agreed the Cap'n, frankly; "not so fur as the details appear +to me just now. But there's something about him that gives me hopes." +He pulled out his wallet, licked his thumb, and peeled off a bill. + +"Bodge, so fur's I can see now, you seem to be a good investment. +I don't know just yet how much it is goin' to take to capitalize you, +but here's ten dollars for an option. You understand now that I'm +president of you, and my friend here is sekertary. And you're to keep +your mouth shut." + +Mr. Bodge agreed with effusive gratitude, and capital went its way. +The inventor chased after them with thumping peg-leg to inquire +whether he should first perfect the model of the "cat identifier," +or develop his idea of an automatic chore-doer, started by the +rooster tripping a trigger as he descended to take his matutinal +sniff of air. + +"You just keep in practise with that thing," commanded the Cap'n, +pointing to the cow's horn. + +"I don't see even yet how you are goin' to do it," remarked Hiram, +as they separated a half-hour later at Cap'n Sproul's gate. + +"Nor I," said the Cap'n; "but a lot of meditation and a little prayer +will do wonders in this world, especially when you're mad enough." + + + + +XX + + +The night seemed to afford counsel, for the next day Cap'n Sproul +walked into the dooryard of Colonel Gideon Ward with features +composed to an almost startling expression of amiability. The +Colonel, haunted by memories and stung by a guilty conscience, +appeared at the door, and his mien indicated that he was prepared +for instant and desperate combat. + +At the end of a half-hour's discourse, wholly by the Cap'n, his face +had lost a measure of its belligerency, but sullen fear had taken +its place. For Cap'n Sproul's theme had been the need of peace and +mutual confidence in families, forbearance and forgetfulness of +injuries that had been mutual. The Cap'n explained that almost always +property troubles were the root of family evils, and that as soon +as property disputes were eliminated in his case, he at once had come +to a realizing sense of his own mistakes and unfair attitude, and +had come to make frank and manly confession, and to shake hands. Would +the Colonel shake hands? + +The Colonel shook hands apprehensively, bending back and ready to +duck a blow. Would the Colonel consent to mutual forgiveness, and +to dwell thereafter in bonds of brotherly affection? The Colonel had +only voiceless stammerings for reply, which the Cap'n translated to +his own satisfaction, and went away, casting the radiance of that +startling amiability over his shoulder as he departed. Colonel Ward +stared after the pudgy figure as long as it remained in sight, +muttering his boding thoughts. + +It required daily visits for a week to make satisfactory impress on +the Colonel's mistrustful fears, but the Cap'n was patient. In the +end, Colonel Ward, having carefully viewed this astonishing +conversion from all points, accepted the amity as proof of the +guileless nature of a simple seaman, and on his own part reciprocated +with warmth--laying up treasures of friendship against that possible +day of discovery and wrath that his guilty conscience suggested. + +If Colonel Ward, striving to reciprocate, had not been so anxious +to please Cap'n Sproul in all his vagaries he would have barked +derisive laughter at the mere suggestion of the Captain Kidd treasure, +to the subject of which the simple seaman aforesaid led by easy stages. +The Colonel admitted that Mr. Bodge had located a well for him by +use of a witch-hazel rod, but allowed that the buried-treasure +proposition was too stiff batter for him to swallow. He did come at +last to accept Cap'n Sproul's dictum that there was once a Captain +Kidd, and that he had buried vast wealth somewhere--for Cap'n Sproul +as a sailorman seemed to be entitled to the possession of authority +on that subject. But beyond that point there was reservation that +didn't fit with Cap'n Sproul's calculations. + +"Blast his old pork rind!" confided the Cap'n to Hiram. "I can circle +him round and round the pen easy enough, but when I try to head him +through the gate, he just sets back and blinks them hog eyes at me +and grunts. To get near him at all I had to act simple, and I reckon +I've overdone it. Now he thinks I don't know enough to know that old +Bodge is mostly whiskers and guesses. He's known Bodge longer'n I +have, and Bodge don't seem to be right bait. I can't get into his +wallet by first plan." + +"It wasn't no kind of a plan, anyway," said Hiram, bluntly. "It +wouldn't be stickin' him good and plenty enough to have Bodge +unloaded onto him, just Bodge and northin' else done. 'Twasn't +complicated enough." + +"I ain't no good on complicated plots," mourned Cap'n Sproul. + +"You see," insisted Hiram, "you don't understand dealin' with jay +nature the same as I do. Takes the circus business to post you on +jays. Once in a while they'll bite a bare hook, but not often. Jays +don't get hungry till they see sure things. Your plain word of old +Cap Kidd and buried treasure sounds good, and that's all. In the +shell-game the best operator lets the edge of the shell rest on the +pea carelesslike, as though he didn't notice it, and then joggles +it down over as if by accident; and, honest, the jay hates to take +the money, it looks so easy! In the candy-game there's nothing doin' +until the jay thinks he catches you puttin' a twenty-dollar bill into +the package. Then look troubled, and try to stop him from buyin' that +package! You ain't done anything to show your brother-in-law that +Bodge ain't a blank." + +The Cap'n turned discouraged gaze on his friend. "I've got to give +it up," he complained. "I ain't crook enough. He's done me, and I'll +have to stay done." + +Hiram tapped the ashes from his cigar, musingly surveyed his diamond +ring, and at last said: "I ain't a butter-in. But any time you get +ready to holler for advice from friends, just holler." + +"I holler," said the Cap'n, dispiritedly. + +"Holler heard by friends," snapped Hiram, briskly. "Friends all +ready with results of considerable meditation. You go right over and +tell your esteemed relative that you're organizin' an expedition to +discover Cap Kidd's treasure, and invite him to go along as member +of your family, free gratis for nothin', all bills paid, and much +obleeged to him for pleasant company." + +"Me pay the bills?" demanded the Cap'n. + +"Money advanced for development work on Bodge, that's all! To be +taken care of when Bodge is watered ready for sale. Have thorough +understandin' with esteemed relative that no shares in Bodge are for +sale. Esteemed relative to be told that any attempt on the trip to +buy into Bodge will be considered fightin' talk. Bodge and all +results from Bodge are yours, and you need him along--esteemed +relative--to see that you have a square deal. That removes suspicion, +and teases at the same time." + +"Will he go?" asked Cap'n Sproul, anxiously. + +"He will," declared Hiram, with conviction. "A free trip combined +with a chance of perhaps doin' over again such an easy thing as you +seem to be won't ever be turned down by Colonel Gideon Ward." + +At nine o'clock that evening Cap'n Sproul knocked at Hiram Look's +front door and stumped in eagerly. "He'll go!" he reported. "Now let +me in on full details of plan." + +"Details of plan will be handed to you from time to time as you need +'em in your business," said Hiram, firmly. "I don't dare to load you. +Your trigger acts too quick." + +"For a man that is handlin' Bodge, and is payin' all the bills, I +don't seem to have much to do with this thing," grunted the Cap'n, +sullenly. + +"I'll give you something to do. To-morrow you go round town and hire +half a dozen men--say, Jackson Denslow, Zeburee Nute, Brad Wade, Seth +Swanton, Ferd Parrott, and Ludelphus Murray. Be sure they're all +members of the Ancient and Honorable Firemen's Association." + +"Hire 'em for what?" + +"Treasure-huntin' crew. I'll go with you. I'm their foreman, and I +can make them keep their mouths shut. I'll show you later why we'll +need just those kind of men." + +The Cap'n took these orders with dogged resignation. + +"Next day you'll start with Bodge and charter a packet in Portland +for a pleasure cruise--you needin' a sniff of salt air after bein' +cooped up on shore for so long. Report when ready, and I'll come along +with men and esteemed relative." + +"It sounds almighty complicated for a plot," said the Cap'n. In his +heart he resented Hiram's masterfulness and his secretiveness. + +"This ain't no timber-land deal," retorted Hiram, smartly, and with +cutting sarcasm. "You may know how to sail a ship and lick Portygee +sailors, but there's some things that you can afford to take advice +in." + +On the second day Cap'n Sproul departed unobtrusively from Smyrna, +with the radiant Mr. Bodge in a new suit of ready-made clothes as +his seat-mate in the train. + +Smyrna perked up and goggled its astonishment when Hiram Look shipped +his pet elephant, Imogene, by freight in a cattle-car, and followed +by next train accompanied by various tight-mouthed members of the +Smyrna fire department and Colonel Gideon Ward. + +Cap'n Sproul had the topmast schooner _Aurilla P. Dobson_ handily +docked at Commercial Wharf, and received his crew and brother-in-law +with cordiality that changed to lowering gloom when Hiram followed +ten minutes later towing the placid Imogene, and followed by a +wondering concourse of men and boys whom his triumphal parade through +the streets from the freight-station had attracted. With a +nimbleness acquired in years of touring the elephant came on board. + +Cap'n Sproul gazed for a time on this unwieldy passenger, surveying +the arrival of various drays laden with tackle, shovels, mysterious +boxes, and baled hay, and then took Hiram aside, deep discontent +wrinkling his forehead. + +"I know pretty well why you wanted Gid Ward along on the trip. I've +got sort of a dim idea why you invited the Hecly fire department; +and perhaps you know what we're goin' to do with all that dunnage +on them trucks. But what in the devil you're goin' to do with that +cust-fired old elephant--and she advertisin' this thing to the four +corners of God's creation--well, it's got my top-riggin' snarled." + +"Sooner you get your crew to work loadin', sooner you'll get away +from sassy questions," replied Hiram, serenely, wagging his head at +the intrusive crowd massing along the dock's edge. And the Cap'n, +impressed by the logic of the advice, and stung by the manner in which +Hiram had emphasized "sassy questions," pulled the peak of his cap +over his eyes, and became for once more in his life the autocrat of +the quarter-deck. + +An hour later the packet was sluggishly butting waves with her blunt +bows in the lower harbor, Cap'n Sproul hanging to the weather-worn +wheel, and roaring perfectly awful profanity at the clumsy attempts +of his makeshift crew. + +"I've gone to sea with most everything in the line of cat-meat on +two legs," he snarled to Hiram, who leaned against the rail puffing +at a long cigar with deep content, "but I'll be billy-hooed if I ever +saw six men before who pulled on the wrong rope every time, and pulled +the wrong way on every wrong rope. You take them and--and that +elephant," he added, grimly returning to that point of dispute, "and +we've got an outfit that I'm ashamed to have the Atlantic Ocean see +me in company with." + +"Don't let that elephant fuss you up," said Hiram, complacently +regarding Imogene couched in the waist. + +"But there ain't northin' sensible you can do with her." + +Hiram cocked his cigar pertly. + +"A remark, Cap'n Sproul, that shows you need a general manager with +foresight like me. When you get to hoistin' dirt in buckets she'll +be worth a hundred dollars an hour, and beat any steam-winch ever +operated." + +Again the Cap'n felt resentment boil sourly within him. This doling +of plans and plot to him seemed to be a reflection on his +intelligence. + +"Reckon it's buried deep, do you?" inquired Colonel Ward, a flavor +of satiric skepticism in his voice. He was gazing quizzically forward +to where Mr. Bodge sat on the capstan's drumhead, his nose elevated +with wistful eagerness, his whiskers flapping about his ears, his +eyes straight ahead. + +"It's buried deep," said Hiram, with conviction. "It's buried deep, +because there's a lot of it, and it was worth while to bury it deep. +A man like Cap Kidd wa'n't scoopin' out a ten-foot hole and buryin' +a million dollars and goin' off and leavin' it to be pulled like a +pa'snip by the first comer." + +"A million dollars!" echoed the Colonel. + +"Northin' less! History says it. There was a lot of money flyin' +around the world in them days, and Cap Kidd knew how to get holt of +it. The trouble is with people, Colonel, they forget that there was +a lot of gold in the world before the 'Forty-niners' got busy." + +"But Bodge," snorted the Colonel. "He--" + +"Certain men for certain things," declared Hiram, firmly. "Most +every genius is more or less a lunatic. It needed capital to develop +Bodge. It's takin' capital to make Bodge and his idea worth anything. +This is straight business run on business principles! Bodge is like +one of them dirt buckets, like a piece of tackle, like Imogene there. +He's capitalized." + +"Well, he gets his share, don't he?" asked Colonel Ward, his business +instinct at the fore. + +"Not by a blame sight," declared Hiram, to the Cap'n's astonished +alarm. "It would be like givin' a dirt bucket or that elephant a +share." + +When the Cap'n was about to expostulate, Hiram kicked him unobserved +and went on: "I'm bein' confidential with you, Colonel, because +you're one of the family, and of course are interested in seein' your +brother-in-law make good. Who is takin' all the resks? The Cap'n. +Bodge is only a hired man. The Cap'n takes all profits. That's +business. But of course it's between us." + +When Colonel Ward strolled away in meditative mood the Cap'n made +indignant remonstrance. + +"Ain't I got trouble enough on my hands with them six Durham steers +forrads to manage without gettin' into a free fight with old Bodge?" +he demanded. "There ain't any treasure, anyway. You don't believe +it any more'n I do." + +"You're right!" assented Hiram. + +"But Bodge believes it, and when it gets to him that' we're goin' +to do him, you can't handle him any more'n you could a wild hyeny!" + +"When you hollered for my help in this thing," said the old showman, +boring the Cap'n with inexorable eye, "you admitted that you were +no good on complicated plots, and put everything into my hands. It +will stay in my hands, and I don't want any advice. Any time you want +to operate by yourself put me and Imogene ashore and operate." + +For the next twenty-four hours the affairs of the _Aurilla P. Dobson_ +were administered without unnecessary conversations between the +principals. + +On the afternoon of the second day Mr. Bodge, whom no solicitation +could coax from his vigil on the capstan, broke his trance. + +"That's the island," he shouted, flapping both hands to mark his +choice. It wasn't an impressive islet. There were a few acres of sand, +some scraggy spruces, and a thrusting of ledge. + +Mr. Bodge was the first man into the yawl, sat in its bow, his head +projected forward like a whiskered figurehead, and was the first on +the beach. + +"He's certainly the spryest peg-legger I ever saw," commented Hiram, +admiringly, as the treasure-hunter started away, his cow's-horn +divining-rod in position. The members of Hecla fire department, glad +to feel land under their country feet once more, capered about on +the beach, surveying the limited attractions with curious eyes. +Zeburee Nute, gathering seaweed to carry home to his wife, stripped +the surface of a bowlder, and called excited attention to an anchor +and a cross rudely hacked into the stone. + +"It's old Cap Kidd's mark," whispered Hiram to Colonel Ward. And with +keen gaze he noted the Colonel's tongue lick his blue lips, and saw +the gold lust beginning to gleam in his eyes. + +Hiram was the only one who noted this fact: that, concealed under +more seaweed, there was a date whose modernity hinted that the +inscription was the work of some loafing yachtsman. + +As he rose from his knees he saw Mr. Bodge pause on a hillock, arms +rigidly akimbo, the point of the cow's horn directed straight down. + +"I've found it!" he squealed. "It's here! Come on, come one, come +all and dig, for God sakes!" + +The excitement of those first few hours was too much for the +self-control of Colonel Gideon Ward's avaricious nature. He +hesitated a long time, blinking hard as each shovelful of dirt +sprayed against the breeze. Then he grasped an opportunity when he +could talk with Cap'n Sproul apart, and said, huskily: + +"It's still all guesswork and uncertain, and you stand to lose a lot +of expense. I know I promised not to talk business with you, but +couldn't you consider a proposition to stand in even?" + +The Cap'n glared on him severely. + +"Do you think it's a decent proposition to step up to me and ask me +to sell you gold dollars for a cent apiece? When you came on this +trip you understood that Bodge was mine, and that he and this scheme +wa'n't for sale. Don't ever mention it again or you and me'll have +trouble." + +And Colonel Ward went back to watch the digging, angry, lusting, and +disheartened. + +The next day the hole was far enough advanced to require the services +of Imogene as bucket-lifter. That docile animal obligingly swam +ashore, to the great admiration of all spectators. + +On that day it was noted first that gloom was settling on the spirits +of Mr. Bodge. The gloom dated from a conversation held very privately +the evening before between Mr. Bodge and Colonel Ward. + +Mr. Bodge, pivoting on his peg-leg, stood at the edge of the deepening +hole with a doleful air that did not accord with his enthusiastic +claims as a treasure-hunter. That night he had another conference +with Colonel Ward, and the next day he stood beside the hole and +muttered constantly in the confidential retirement of his whiskers. +On the third day he had a murderous look in his eyes every time he +turned them in the direction of Cap'n Sproul. On the night of the +fourth day Hiram detected him hopping softly on bare foot across the +cabin of the _Dobson_ toward the stateroom of Cap'n Sproul. He +carried his unstrapped peg-leg in his hand, holding it as he would +a weapon. Detected, he explained to Hiram with guilty confusion that +he was walking in his sleep. The next night, at his own request, he +was left alone on the island, where he might indulge in the frailty +of somnambulism without danger to any one. + +Colonel Ward, having missed his usual private conference with Mr. +Bodge that night, and betraying a certain uneasiness on that account, +gobbled a hurried breakfast, took the dingy, and went ashore alone. + +Cap'n Sproul and Hiram Look, stepping from the yawl upon the beach +a half-hour later, saw the Colonel's gaunt frame outlined against +the morning sun. He was leaning over the hole, hands on his knees, +and appeared to be very intently engaged. + +"There's something underhanded going on here, and I propose to find +out what it is," growled the Cap'n. + +"Noticed it, have you?" inquired Hiram, cheerfully. + +"I notice some things that I don't talk a whole lot about." + +"I'm glad you have," went on Hiram, serenely overlooking a possible +taunt regarding his own reticence. "It's a part of the plot, and plot +aforesaid is now ripe enough to be picked. Or, to put it another way, +I figger that the esteemed relative has bit and has swallered the +hook." + +"Ain't it about time I got let in on this?" demanded the Cap'n, with +heat. + +With an air as though about to impart a vital secret, Hiram grasped +the Cap'n's arm and whispered: "I'll tell you just what you've got +to do to make the thing go. You say 'Yes' when I tell you to." + +Then he hurried up the hill, Cap'n Sproul puffing at his heels and +revolving venomous thoughts. + +It was a deep hole and a gloomy hole, but when the two arrived at +the edge they could see Mr. Bodge at the bottom. His peg-leg was +unstrapped, and he held it clutched in both hands and brandished it +at them the moment their heads appeared over the edge. + +"And there you be, you robber!" he squalled. "You would pick cents +off'm, a dead man's eyes, and bread out of the mouths of infants." +He stopped his tirade long enough to suck at the neck of a black +bottle. + +"Come on! Come one, come all!" he screamed. "I'll split every head +open. I'll stay here till I starve. Ye'll have to walk over my dead +body to get it." + +"Well, he's good and drunk, and gone crazy into the bargain," snorted +the Cap'n, disgustedly. + +"It's a sad thing," remarked Colonel Ward, his little, hard eyes +gleaming with singular fires, and trying to compose his features. +"I'm afraid of what may happen if any one tries to go down there." + +"I'll come pretty near to goin' down into my own hole if I want to," +blurted the Cap'n. + +"I'll kill ye jest so sure's hell's a good place to thaw plumbin'," +cried Mr. Bodge. "I've got ye placed. You was goin' to steal my brains. +You was goin' to suck Bodge dry and laugh behind his back. You're +an old thief and liar." + +"There's no bald-headed old sosh that can call me names--not when +I can stop it by droppin' a rock on his head," stated the Cap'n with +vigor. + +"You don't mean to say you'd hurt that unfortunate man?" inquired +Colonel Ward. "He has gone insane, I think. He ought to be treated +gently. I probably feel different about it than either of you, who +are comparative strangers in Smyrna. But I've always known Eleazar +Bodge, and I should hate to see any harm come to him. As it is, his +brain has been turned by this folly over buried treasure." The +Colonel tried to speak with calmness and dignity, but his tones were +husky and his voice trembled. "Perhaps I can handle him better than +any of the rest of you. I was talkin' with him when you came up." + +"You all go away and leave me with Colonel Gid Ward," bawled Bodge. +"He's the only friend I've got in the world. He'll be good to me." + +"It's pretty bad business," commented Hiram, peering down into the +pit with much apprehension. + +"It's apt to be worse before it's over with," returned the Colonel. + +And, catching a look in Hiram's eyes that seemed to hint at something, +he called the showman aside. + +"I can't talk with my brother-in-law," he began. "He seems to get +very impatient with me when we try to talk business. But I've got +a proposition to make, and perhaps I can make it through you." + +Then, seeing that the Cap'n was bending malevolent gaze on them, he +drew Hiram farther away, and they entered into spirited colloquy. + +"It's this way," reported the showman, returning at last to the Cap'n, +and holding him firmly by the coat lapel. "As you and I have talked +it, you've sort of got cold feet on this treasure proposition." This +was news to the Cap'n, but his eyelids did not so much as quiver. +"Here you are now up against a man that's gone crazy and that's +threatenin' to kill you, and may do so if you try to do more business +with him. Colonel Ward says he's known him a good many years, and +pities him in his present state, and, more than that, has got sort +of interested in this Cap Kidd treasure business himself, and has +a little money he'd like to spend on it--and to help Mr. Bodge. +Proposition by Colonel Ward is that if you'll step out and turn over +Mr. Bodge and this hole to him just as it stands he'll hand you his +check now for fifteen thousand dollars, and"--the showman hastened +to stop the Cap'n's amazed gasping by adding decisively--"as your +friend and general manager of this expedition, and knowin' your +feelin's pretty well, I've accepted and herewith hand you check. +Members of Hecla fire company will please take notice of trade. Do +I state it right, Colonel Ward?" + +The Colonel, with high color mantling his thin cheeks, affirmed +hoarsely. + +"And, bein' induced to do this mostly out of regard for Mr. Bodge, +he thinks it's best for us to sail away so that Mr. Bodge can calm +himself. We'll send a packet from Portland to take 'em off. They would +like to stay here and prospect for a few days. Right, Colonel Ward?" + +The Colonel affirmed once more. + +Casting one more look into the hole, another at his inexplicable +brother-in-law, and almost incredulous gaze at the check in his hand, +Cap'n Sproul turned and marched off down the hill. He promptly went +on board, eager to get that check as far away from its maker as +possible. + +It was an hour later before he had opportunity of a word with Hiram, +who had just finished the embarkation of Imogene. + +"My Gawd, Hiram!" he gasped, "how did you skin this out of him?" + +"I could have got twenty-five thousand just as quick," replied the +showman. "You take a complicated plot like that, and when it does +get ripe it's easy pickin'. When old Dot-and-carry got to pokin' +around in that hole this mornin' and come upon the chist bound with +iron, after scrapin' away about a foot of dirt, he jest naturally +concluded he'd rather be equal partners with Colonel Gid Ward than +be with you what I explained he was to the Colonel." + +"Chist bound with iron?" demanded the Cap'n. + +"Cover of old planks that Ludelphus and I patched up with strap iron +down in the hold and planted after dark last night. Yes, sir, with +old Bodge standin' there as he was to-day, and reportin' to Ward what +he had under foot, I could have got ten thousand more out of esteemed +relative. But I reckoned that fifteen thousand stood for quite a lot +of profit on timber lands." + +The Cap'n gazed aloft to see that the dingy canvas of the _Dobson_ +was drawing, and again surveyed the check. + +"I reckon I'll cash it in before makin' any arrangements to send a +packet out after 'em," he remarked. + +After a few moments of blissful contemplation he said, with a little +note of regret in his voice: "I wish you had let me know about that +plankin'. I'd have liked to put a little writin' under it--something +sarcastic, that they could sort of meditate on when they sit there +in that hole and look at each other. + +"It was certainly a complicated plot," he went on. "And it had to +be. When you sell a bunch of whiskers and a hole in the ground for +fifteen thousand dollars, it means more brain-work than would be +needed in selling enough gold bricks to build a meetin'-house." + +And with such and similar gratulatory communings they found their +setting forth across the sunlit sea that day an adventuring full of +rich contentment. + + + + +XXI + + +"She sails about like a clam-shell in a puddle of Porty Reek +m'lasses," remarked Cap'n Aaron Sproul, casting contemptuous eye +into the swell of the dingy mainsail, and noting the crawl of the +foam-wash under the counter of the _Aurilla P. Dobson_. + +But he could not infect Hiram Look with his dissatisfaction. The +ex-circus man sat on the deck with his back against the port bulwark, +his knees doubled high before his face as a support for a blank-book +in which he was writing industriously. He stopped to lick the end +of his pencil, and gazed at the Cap'n. + +"I was just thinkin' we was havin' about as pleasant a sail as I ever +took," he said. "Warm and sunny, our own fellers on board havin' a +good time, and a complicated plot worked out to the queen's taste." + +The Cap'n, glancing behind, noted that a certain scraggly island had +once more slid into view from behind a wooded head. With his knee +propped against the wheel, he surveyed the island's ridged backbone. + +"Plot seems to be still workin'," he remarked, grimly. "If it was +all worked they'd be out there on them ledges jumpin' about twenty +feet into the air, and hollerin' after us." + +"Let's whoa here and wait for 'em to show in sight," advised Hiram, +eagerly. "It will be worth lookin' at." + +"Hain't no need of slackin' sail," snorted the skipper. "It's about +like bein' anchored, tryin' to ratch this old tin skimmer away from +anywhere. You needn't worry any about our droppin' that island out +of sight right away." + +"For a man that's just got even with Colonel Gideon Ward to the tune +of fifteen thousand dollars, and with the check in your pocket, you +don't seem to be enjoyin' the comforts of religion quite as much as +a man ought to," remonstrated Hiram. + +"It's wadin' a puddle navigatin' this way," complained the Cap'n, +his eyes on the penning shores of the reach; "and it makes me homesick +when I think of my old four-sticker pilin' white water to her +bowsprit's scroll and chewin' foam with her jumper-guys. Deep water, +Hiram! Deep water, with a wind and four sticks, and I'd show ye!" + +"There's something the matter with a man that can't get fun out of +anything except a three-ring circus," said his friend, severely. +"I'm contented with one elephant these days. It's all the +responsibility I want." His eyes dwelt fondly on the placid Imogene, +couchant amidships. Then he lighted a cigar, using his plug hat for +a wind-break, and resumed his labors with the pencil. + +"What be ye writin'--a novel or only a pome?" inquired Cap'n Sproul +at last. + +"Log," replied the unruffled Hiram. "This is the first sea trip I +ever made, and whilst I don't know how to reeve the bowsprit or clew +up the for'rad hatch, I know that a cruise without a log is like +circus-lemonade without a hunk of glass to clink in the mix bowl. +Got it up to date! Listen!" + +He began to read, displaying much pride in his composition: + +"September the fifteen. Got word that Cap'n Aaron Sproul had been +cheated out of wife's interest in timber lands by his brother-in-law, +Colonel Gideon Ward." + +"What in Josephus's name has that got to do with this trip?" demanded +the Cap'n, with rising fire, at this blunt reference to his +humiliation. + +"If it wa'n't for that we wouldn't be on this trip," replied Hiram, +with serene confidence in his own judgment. + +"Well, I don't want that set down." + +"You can keep a log of your own, and needn't set it down." Hiram's +tone was final, and he went on reading: + +"Same date. Discovered Eleazar Bodge and his divinin'-rod. Bought +option on Bodge and his secret of Cap'n Kidd's buried treasure on +Cod Lead Nubble. September the fifteen to seventeen. Thought up plot +to use Bodge to get even with Ward. September the twenty-three. +Raised crew in Smyrna for cruise to Cod Lead, crew consistin' of men +to be depended on for what was wanted--" + +"Not includin' sailin' a vessel," sneered the Cap'n, squinting +forward with deep disfavor to where the members of the Smyrna Ancient +and Honorable Firemen's Association were contentedly fishing over +the side of the sluggish _Dobson_. "Here, leave hands off'm that +tops'l downhaul!" he yelled, detecting Ludelphus Murray slashing at +it with his jack-knife. "My Gawd, if he ain't cut it off!" he groaned. + +Murray, the Smyrna blacksmith, growled back something about not +seeing what good the rope did, anyway. + +Cap'n Sproul turned his back on the dim gleam of open sea framed by +distant headlands. + +"I'm ashamed to look the Atlantic Ocean in the face, with that bunch +of barn-yarders aboard," he complained. + +"Shipped crew," went on Hiram, who had not paused in his reading. +"Took along my elephant to h'ist dirt. Found Cod Lead Nubble. Began +h'istin' dirt. Dug hole twenty feet deep. Me and L. Murray made fake +treasure-chist cover out of rotten planks. Planted treasure-chist +cover. Let E. Bodge and G. Ward discover same, and made believe we +didn't know of it. Sold out E. Bodge and all chances to G. Ward for +fifteen thousand and left them to dig, promisin' to send off packet +for them. Sailed with crew and elephant to cash check before G. Ward +can get ashore to stop payment. Plot complicated, but it worked, and +has helped to pass away time." + +"That ain't no kind of a ship's log," objected the Cap'n, who had +listened to the reading with an air too sullen for a man who had +profited as much by the plot. "There ain't no mention of wind nor +weather nor compass nor--" + +"You can put 'em all in if you want to," broke in Hiram. "I don't +bother with things I don't know anything about. What I claim is, +here's a log, brief and to the point, and covers all details of plot. +And I'm proud of it. That's because it's my own plot." + +The Cap'n, propping the wheel with his knee, pulled out his wallet, +and again took a long survey of Colonel Ward's check. "For myself, +I ain't so proud of it," he said, despondently. "It seems sort of +like stealin' money." + +"It's a good deal like it," assented Hiram, readily. "But he stole +from you first." He took up the old spy-glass and levelled it across +the rail. + +"That's all of log to date," he mumbled in soliloquy. "Now if I could +see--" + +He uttered an exclamation and peered into the tube with anxiety. + +"Here!" he cried. "You take it, Cap'n. I ain't used to it, and it +wobbles. But it's either them or gulls a-flappin'." + +Cap'n Sproul's brown hands clasped the rope-wound telescope, and he +trained its lens with seaman's steadiness. + +"It's them," he said, with a chuckle of immense satisfaction. They're +hoppin' up and down on the high ridge, and slattin' their arms in +the air. It ain't no joy-dance, that ain't. I've seen Patagonian +Injuns a war-dancin'. It's like that. They've got that plank cover +pried up. I wisht I could hear what they are sayin'." + +"I can imagine," returned Hiram, grimly. "Hold it stiddy, so's I can +look. Them old arms of Colonel Gid is goin' some," he observed, after +a pause. "It will be a wonder if he don't shake his fists off." + +"There certainly is something cheerful about it--lookin' back and +knowin' what they must be sayin'," observed the Cap'n, losing his +temporary gloom. "I reckon I come by this check honest, after all, +considerin' what he done to me on them timber lands." + +"Well, it beats goin' to law," grinned Hiram. "Here you be, so afraid +of lawyers--and with good reason--that you'd have let him get away +with his plunder before you'd have gone to law--and he knew it when +he done you. You've taken back what's your own, in your own way, +without havin' to give law-shysters the biggest part for gettin' it. +Shake!" And chief plotter and the benefited clasped fists with +radiant good-nature. The Cap'n broke his grip in order to twirl the +wheel, it being necessary to take a red buoy to port. + +"We're goin' to slide out of sight of 'em in a few minutes," he said, +looking back over his shoulder regretfully. "I wisht I had a crew! +I could stand straight out through that passage on a long tack to +port, fetch Half-way Rock, and slide into Portland on the starboard +tack, and stay in sight of 'em pretty nigh all day. It would keep +'em busy thinkin' if we stayed in sight." + +"Stand out," advised Hiram, eagerly. "We ain't in any hurry. Let's +rub it into 'em. Stand out." + +"With them pea-bean pullers to work ship?" He pointed to the devoted +band of Smyrna fire-fighters, who were joyously gathering in with +varying luck a supply of tomcod and haddock to furnish the larder +inshore. "When I go huntin' for trouble it won't be with a gang of +hoss-marines like that." + +Hiram, as foreman of the Ancients, felt piqued at this slighting +reference to his men, and showed it. + +"They can pull ropes when you tell 'em to," he said. "Leastways, when +it comes to brains, I reckon they'll stack up better'n them Portygees +you used to have." + +"I never pretended that them Portygees had any brains at all," said +the Cap'n, grimly. "They come aboard without brains, and I took a +belayin'-pin and batted brains into 'em. I can't do that to these +critters here. It would be just like 'em to misunderstand the whole +thing and go home and get me mixed into a lot of law for assaultin' +'em." + +"Oh, if you're afraid to go outside, say so!" sneered Hiram. "But +you've talked so much of deep water, and weatherin' Cape Horn, and--" + +"Afraid? Me afraid?" roared the Cap'n, spatting his broad hand on +his breast. "Me, that kicked my dunnage-bag down the fo'c's'le-hatch +at fifteen years old? I'll show you whether I'm afraid or not." + +He knotted a hitch around the spokes of the wheel and scuffed hastily +forward. + +"Here!" he bawled, cuffing the taut sheets to point his meaning, +"when I get back to the wheel and holler 'Ease away!' you fellers +get hold of these ropes, untie 'em, and let out slow till I tell you +stop. And then tie 'em just as you find 'em." + +They did so clumsily, Cap'n Sproul swearing under his breath, and +at last the _Dobson_ got away on the port tack. + +"Just think of me--master of a four-sticker at twenty-seven--havin' +to stand here in the face and eyes of the old Atlantic Ocean and yell +about untyin' ropes and tyin' 'em up like I was givin' off orders +in a cow-barn!" + +"Well, they done it all right--and they done it pretty slick, so far +as I could see," interjected Hiram. + +"Done it!" sneered the Cap'n. "Eased sheets here in this puddle, in +a breeze about stiff enough to winnow oats! Supposin' it was a blow, +with a gallopin' sea! Me runnin' around this deck taggin' gool on +halyards, lifts, sheets, and downhauls, and them hoss-marines +follerin' me up. Davy Jones would die laughin', unless some one +pounded him on the back to help him get his breath." + +Now that his mariner's nose was turned toward the sea once again after +his two years of landsman's hebetude, all his seaman's instinct, all +his seaman's caution, revived. His nose snuffed the air, his eyes +studied the whirls of the floating clouds. There was nothing +especially ominous in sight. + +The autumn sun was warm. The wind was sprightly but not heavy. And +yet his mariner's sense sniffed something untoward. + +The _Dobson_, little topmast hooker, age-worn and long before +relegated to the use of Sunday fishing-parties "down the bay," had +for barometer only a broken affair that had been issued to advertise +the virtues of a certain baking-powder. It was roiled permanently +to the degree marked "Tornado." + +"Yes," remarked Hiram, nestling down once more under the bulwark, +after viewing the display of amateur activity, "of course, if you're +afraid to tackle a little deep water once more, just for the sake +of an outin', then I've no more to say. I've heard of railro'd +engineers and sea-capt'ns losin' their nerve. I didn't know but it +had happened to you." + +"Well, it ain't," snapped the Cap'n, indignantly. And yet his sailor +instinct scented menace. He couldn't explain it to that cynical old +circus-man, intent on a day's outing. Had it not been for Hiram's +presence and his taunt, Cap'n Sproul would have promptly turned tail +to the Atlantic and taken his safe and certain way along the reaches +and under shelter of the islands. But reflecting that Hiram Look, +back in Smyrna, might circulate good-natured derogation of his +mariner's courage, Cap'n Sproul set the _Dobson's_ blunt nose to the +heave of the sea, and would not have quailed before a tidal wave. + +The Smyrna contingent hailed this adventuring into greater depths +as a guarantee of bigger fish for the salt-barrel at home, and +proceeded to cut bait with vigor and pleased anticipation. + +Only the Cap'n was saturnine, and even lost his interest in the +animated figures on distant Cod Lead Nubble, though Hiram could not +drag his eyes from them, seeing in their frantic gestures the +denouement of his plot. + +Shortly after noon they were well out to sea, still on the port tack, +the swells swinging underneath in a way that soothed the men of Smyrna +rather than worried them. So steady was the lift and sweep of the +long roll that they gave over fishing and snored wholesomely in the +sun on deck. Hiram dozed over his cigar, having paid zestful +attention to the dinner that Jackson Denslow had spread in the +galley. + +Only Cap'n Sproul, at the wheel, was alert and awake. With some +misgivings he noted that the trawl fishers were skimming toward port +in their Hampton boats. A number of smackmen followed these. Later +he saw several deeply laden Scotiamen lumbering past on the starboard +tack, all apparently intent on making harbor. + +"Them fellers has smelt something outside that don't smell good," +grunted the Cap'n. But he still stood on his way. "I reckon I've got +softenin' of the brain," he muttered; "livin' inshore has given it +to me. 'Cause if I was in my right senses I'd be runnin' a race with +them fellers to see which would get inside Bug Light and to a safe +anchorage first. And yet I'm standin' on with this old bailin'-dish +because I'm afraid of what a landlubber will say to folks in Smyrna +about my bein' a coward, and with no way of my provin' that I ain't. +All that them hoss-marines has got a nose for is a b'iled dinner when +it's ready. They couldn't smell nasty weather even if 'twas daubed +onto their mustaches." + +At the end of another hour, during which the crew of the _Dobson_ +had become thoroughly awake and aware of the fact that the coast-line +was only a blue thread on the northern horizon, Cap'n Sproul had +completely satisfied his suspicions as to a certain bunch of slaty +cloud. + +There was a blow in it--a coming shift of wind preceded by flaws that +made the Cap'n knot his eyebrows dubiously. + +"There!" he blurted, turning his gaze on Hiram, perched on the +grating. "If you reckon you've got enough of a sail out of this, we'll +put about for harbor. But I want it distinctly understood that I ain't +sayin' the word 'enough.' I'd keep on sailin' to the West Injies if +we had grub a-plenty to last us." + +"There ain't grub enough," suggested Jackson Denslow, who came up +from the waist with calm disregard of shipboard etiquette. "The boys +have all caught plenty of fish, and we want to get in before dark. +So gee her round, Cap'n." + +"Don't you give off no orders to me!" roared the Cap'n. "Go back +for'ard where you belong." + +"That's the sense of the boys, just the same," retorted Denslow, +retreating a couple of steps. "'Delphus Murray is seasick, and two +or three of the boys are gettin' so. We ain't enlisted for no +seafarin' trip." + +"Don't you realize that we're on the high seas now and that you're +talkin' mutiny, and that mutiny's a state-prison crime?" clamored +the irate skipper. "I'd have killed a Portygee for sayin' a quarter +as much. I'd have killed him for settin' foot abaft the +gratin'--killed him before he opened his mouth." + +"We ain't Portygees," rejoined Denslow, stubbornly. "We ain't no +sailors." + +"Nor I ain't liar enough to call you sailors," the Cap'n cried, in +scornful fury. + +"If ye want to come right down to straight business," said the +refractory Denslow, "there ain't any man got authority over us except +Mr. Look there, as foreman of the Smyrna Ancients and Honer'bles." + +Mr. Denslow, mistaking the Cap'n's speechlessness for conviction, +proceeded: + +"We was hired to take a sail for our health, dig dirt, and keep our +mouths shut. Same has been done and is bein' done--except in so far +as we open 'em to remark that we want to get back onto dry ground." + +Hiram noted that the Cap'n's trembling hands were taking a half-hitch +with a rope's end about a tiller-spoke. He understood this as meaning +that Cap'n Sproul desired to have his hands free for a moment. He +hastened to interpose. + +"We're goin' to start right back, Denslow. You can tell the boys for +me." + +"All right, Chief!" said the faithful member of the Ancients, and +departed. + +"We be goin' back, hey?" The Cap'n had his voice again, and turned +on Hiram a face mottled with fury. "This firemen's muster is runnin' +this craft, is it? Say, look-a-here, Hiram, there are certain things +'board ship where it's hands off! There is a certain place where +friendship ceases. You can run your Smyrna fire department on shore, +but aboard a vessel where I'm master mariner, by the wall-eyed +jeehookibus, there's no man but me bosses! And so long as a sail is +up and her keel is movin' I say the say!" + +In order to shake both fists under Hiram's nose, he had surrendered +the wheel to the rope-end. The _Dobson_ paid off rapidly, driven by +a sudden squall that sent her lee rail level with the foaming water. +Those forward howled in concert. Even the showman's face grew pale +as he squatted in the gangway, clutching the house for support. + +"Cut away them ropes! She's goin' to tip over!" squalled Murray, the +big blacksmith. Between the two options--to take the wheel and bring +the clumsy hooker into the wind, or to rush forward and flail his +bunglers away from the rigging--Cap'n Sproul shuttled insanely, +rushing to and fro and bellowing furious language. The language had +no effect. With axes and knives the willing crew hacked away every +rope forward that seemed to be anything supporting a sail, and down +came the foresail and two jibs. The Cap'n knocked down the two men +who tried to cut the mainsail halyards. The next moment the _Dobson_ +jibed under the impulse of the mainsail, and the swinging boom +snapped Hiram's plug hat afar into the sea, and left the showman flat +on his back, dizzily rubbing a bump on his bald head. + +For an instant Cap'n Sproul was moved by a wild impulse to let her +slat her way to complete destruction, but the sailorman's instinct +triumphed, and he worked her round, chewing a strand of his beard +with venom. + +"I don't pretend to know as much about ship managin' as you do," Hiram +ventured to say at last, "but if that wa'n't a careless performance, +lettin' her wale round that way, then I'm no judge." + +He got no comment from the Cap'n. + +"I don't suppose it's shipshape to cut ropes instead of untie 'em," +pursued Hiram, struggling with lame apology in behalf of the others, +"but I could see for myself that if them sails stayed up we were goin' +to tip over. It's better to sail a little slower and keep right side +up." + +He knotted a big handkerchief around his head and took his place on +the grating once more. + +"What can we do now?" bawled Murray. + +"You're the one that's issuin' orders 'board here now," growled the +Cap'n, bending baleful gaze on the foreman of the Ancients. "Go +for'ard and tell 'em to chop down both masts, and then bore some holes +in the bottom to let out the bilge-water. Then they can set her on +fire. There might be something them blasted Ancients could do to a +vessel on fire." + +"I don't believe in bein' sarcastic when people are tryin' to do the +best they can," objected Hiram. He noted that the _Dobson_ was once +again setting straight out to sea. She was butting her snub nose +furiously into swelling combers. The slaty bench of clouds had lifted +into the zenith. Scud trailed just over the swaying masts. The shore +line was lost in haze. "Don't be stuffy any longer, Cap'n," he pleaded. +"We've gone fur enough. I give up. You are deep-water, all right!" + +Cap'n Sproul made no reply. Suddenly catching a moment that seemed +favorable, he lashed the wheel, and with mighty puffing and grunting +"inched" in the main-sheet. "She ought to have a double reef," he +muttered. "But them petrified sons of secos couldn't take in a week's +wash." + +"You can see for yourself that the boys are seasick," resumed Hiram, +when the Cap'n took the wheel again. "If you don't turn 'round--" + +"Mr. Look," grated the skipper, "I've got just a word or two to say +right now." His sturdy legs were straddled, his brown hands clutched +the spokes of the weather-worn wheel. "I'm runnin' this packet from +now on, and it's without conversation. Understand? Don't you open +your yap. And you go for'ard and tell them steer calves that I'll +kill the first one that steps foot aft the mainmast." + +There was that in the tones and in the skipper's mien of dignity as +he stood there, fronting and defying once again his ancient foe, the +ocean, which took out of Hiram all his courage to retort. And after +a time he went forward, dragging himself cautiously, to join the +little group of misery huddled in the folds of the fallen canvas. + +"A cargo of fools to save!" growled Cap'n Sproul, his eyebrows +knotted in anxiety. "Myself among 'em! And they don't know what the +matter is with 'em. We've struck the line gale--that's what we've +done! Struck it with a choppin'-tray for a bo't and a mess of +rooty-baggy turnips for a crew! And there's only one hole to crawl +out of." + + + + +XXII + + +The wind had shifted when it settled into the blow--a fact that the +Cap'n's shipmates did not realize, and which he was too disgusted +by their general inefficiency to explain to them. In his crippled +condition, in the gathering night, he figured that it would be +impossible for him to make Portland harbor, the only accessible +refuge. The one chance was to ride it out, and this he set himself +to do, grimly silent, contemptuously reticent. He held her nose up +to the open sea, allowing her only steerageway, the gale slithering +off her flattened sail. + +The men who gazed on him from the waist saw in his resolution only +stubborn determination to punish them. + +"He's sartinly the obstinatest man that ever lowered his head at ye," +said Zeburee Nute, breaking in on the apprehensive mumble of his +fellows. "He won't stop at northin' when he's mad. Look what he's +done in Smyrna. But I call this rubbin' it in a darn sight more'n +he's got any right to do." + +His lament ended in a seasick hiccough. + +"I don't understand sailormen very well," observed Jackson Denslow; +"and it may be that a lot of things they do are all right, viewed +from sailorman standpoint. But if Cap Sproul wa'n't plumb crazy and +off'm his nut them times we offered him honors in our town, and if +he ain't jest as crazy now, I don't know lunatics when I see 'em." + +"Headin' straight out to sea when dry ground's off that way," said +Murray, finning feeble hand to starboard, "ain't what Dan'l Webster +would do, with his intellect, if he was here." + +Hiram Look sat among them without speaking, his eyes on his friend +outlined against the gloom at the wheel. One after the other the +miserable members of the Ancients and Honorables appealed to him for +aid and counsel. + +"Boys," he said at last, "I've been figgerin' that he's just madder'n +blazes at what you done to the sails, and that as soon's he works +his mad off he'll turn tail. Judgin' from what he said to me, it ain't +safe to tackle him right away. It will only keep him mad. Hold tight +for a little while and let's see what he'll do when he cools. And +if he don't cool then, I've got quite a habit of gettin' mad myself." + +And, hanging their hopes on this argument and promise, they crouched +there in their misery, their eyes on the dim figure at the wheel, +their ears open to the screech of the gale, their souls as sick within +them as were their stomachs. + +In that sea and that wind the progress of the _Dobson_ was, as the +Cap'n mentally put it, a "sashay." There was way enough on her to +hold her into the wind, but the waves and the tides lugged her slowly +sideways and backward. And yet, with their present sea-room Cap'n +Sproul hoped that he might claw off enough to save her. + +Upon his absorption in these hopes blundered Hiram through the night, +crawling aft on his hands and knees after final and despairing appeal +from his men. + +"I say, Cap'n," he gasped, "you and I have been too good friends to +have this go any further. I've took my medicine. So have the boys. +Now let's shake hands and go ashore." + +No reply from the desperate mariner at the wheel battling for life. + +"You heard me!" cried Hiram, fear and anger rasping in his tones. +"I say, I want to go ashore, and, damme, I'm goin'!" + +"Take your shoes in your hand and wade," gritted the Cap'n. "I ain't +stoppin' you." He still scorned to explain to the meddlesome +landsman. + +"I can carry a grudge myself," blustered Hiram. "But I finally stop +to think of others that's dependent on me. We've got wives ashore, +you and me have, and these men has got families dependent on 'em. +I tell ye to turn round and go ashore!" + +"Turn round, you devilish idjit?" bellowed the Cap'n. "What do you +think this is--one of your circus wagons with a span of hosses hitched +in front of it? I told you once before that I didn't want to be +bothered with conversation. I tell you so ag'in. I've got things on +my mind that you don't know anything about, and that you ain't got +intellect enough to understand. Now, you shut up or I'll kick you +overboard for a mutineer." + +At the end of half an hour of silence--bitter, suffering +silence--Hiram broke out with a husky shout. + +"There ye go, Cap'n," he cried. "Behind you! There's our chance!" + +A wavering red flare lighted the sky, spreading upward on the mists. + +The men forward raised a quavering cheer. + +"Ain't you goin' to sail for it?" asked Hiram, eagerly. "There's our +chance to get ashore." He had crept close to the skipper. + +"I s'pose you feel like puttin' on that piazzy hat of yourn and +grabbin' your speakin'-trumpet, leather buckets, and bed-wrench, +and startin' for it," sneered Cap'n Sproul in a lull of the wind. +"In the old times they had wimmen called sirens to coax men ashore. +But that thing there seems to be better bait of the Smyrna fire +department." + +"Do you mean to tell me that you ain't agoin' to land when there's +dry ground right over there, with people signallin' and waitin' to +help you?" demanded the showman, his temper whetted by his fright. + +The Cap'n esteemed the question too senseless to admit any reply +except a scornful oath. He at the wheel, studying drift and wind, +had pretty clear conception of their whereabouts. The scraggly ridge +dimly outlined by the fire on shore could hardly be other than Cod +Lead, where Colonel Gideon Ward and Eleazar Bodge were languishing. +It was probable that those marooned gentlemen had lighted a fire in +their desperation in order to signal for assistance. The Cap'n +reflected that it was about as much wit as landsmen would possess. + +To Hiram's panicky mind this situation seemed to call for one line +of action. They were skippered by a madman or a brute, he could not +figure which. At any rate, it seemed time to interfere. + +He crawled back again to the huddled group of the Ancients and +enlisted Ludelphus Murray, as biggest and least incapacitated by +seasickness. + +They staggered back in the gloom and, without preface or argument, +fell upon the Cap'n, dragged him, fighting manfully and profanely, +to the companionway of the little house, thrust him down, after an +especially vigorous engagement of some minutes, slammed and bolted +the doors and shot the hatch. They heard him beating about within +and raging horribly, but Murray doubled himself over, his knees +against the doors, his body prone on the hatch. + +His position was fortunate for him, for again the _Dobson_ jibed, +the boom of the mainsail slishing overhead. Hiram was crawling on +hands and knees toward the wheel, and escaped, also. When the little +schooner took the bit in her teeth she promptly eliminated the +question of seamanship. It was as though she realized that the +master-hand was paralyzed. She shook the rotten sail out of the +bolt-ropes with a bang, righted and went sluggishly rolling toward +the flare on shore. + +"I don't know much about vessel managin'," gasped Hiram, "but seein' +that gettin' ashore was what I was drivin' at; the thing seems to +be progressin' all favorable." + +Up to this time one passenger on the schooner appeared to be taking +calm or tempest with the same equanimity. This passenger was Imogene, +couched at the break of the little poop. But the cracking report of +the bursting sail, and now the dreadful clamor of the imprisoned +Cap'n Sproul, stirred her fears. She raised her trunk and trumpeted +with bellowings that shamed the blast. + +"Let him up now, 'Delphus!" shouted Hiram, after twirling the wheel +vainly and finding that the _Dobson_ heeded it not. "If there ain't +no sails up he can't take us out to sea. Let him up before he gives +Imogene hysterics." + +And when Murray released his clutch on the hatch it snapped back, +and out over the closed doors of the companionway shot the Cap'n, +a whiskered jack-in-the-box, gifted with vociferous speech. + +Like the cautious seaman, his first glance was aloft. Then he spun +the useless wheel. + +"You whelps of perdition!" he shrieked. "Lifts cut, mains'l blowed +out, and a lee shore a quarter of a mile away! I've knowed fools, +lunatics, and idjits, and I don't want to insult 'em by callin' you +them names. You--" + +"Well, if we are any crazier for wantin' to go ashore where we belong +than you was for settin' out to cross the Atlantic Ocean in a night +like this, I'd like to have it stated why," declared Hiram. + +"Don't you know enough to understand that I was tryin' to save your +lives by ratchin' her off'm this coast?" bellowed Cap'n Sproul. + +"Just thought you was crazy, and think so now," replied the showman, +now fully as furious as the Cap'n--each in his own mind accusing the +other of being responsible for their present plight. "The place for +us is on shore, and we're goin' there!" + +"What do you suppose is goin' to become of us when she strikes?" +bawled the Cap'n, clutching the backstay and leaning into the night. + +"She'll strike shore, won't she? Well, that's what I want to strike. +It'll sound good and feel good." + +For such gibbering lunacy as this the master mariner had no fit reply. +His jaws worked wordlessly. He kept his clutch on the backstay with +the dizzy notion that this saved him from clutching some one's +throat. + +"You'd better begin to pray, you fellers," he cried at last, with +a quaver in his tones. "We're goin' smash-ti-belter onto them rocks, +and Davy Jones is settin' on extra plates for eight at breakfast +to-morrer mornin'. Do your prayin' now." + +"The only Scripture that occurs to me just now," said Hiram, in a +hush of the gale, "is that 'God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb.'" + +That was veritably a Delphic utterance at that moment, had Hiram only +known it. + +Some one has suggested that there is a providence that watches over +children and fools. It is certain that chance does play strange +antics. Men have fallen from balloons and lived. Other men have +slipped on a banana skin and died. Men have fought to save themselves +from destruction, and have been destroyed. Other men have resigned +themselves and have won out triumphantly. + +The doomed _Dobson_ was swashing toward the roaring shore broadside +on. The first ledge would roll her bottom up, beating in her punky +breast at the same time. This was the programme the doleful skipper +had pictured in his mind. There was no way of winning a chance through +the rocks, such as there might have been with steerageway, a tenuous +chance, and yet a chance. But the Cap'n decided with apathy and +resignation to fate that one man could not raise a sail out of that +wreck forward and at the same time heave her up to a course for the +sake of that chance. + +As to Imogene he had not reckoned. + +Perhaps that faithful pachyderm decided to die with her master +embraced in her trunk. Perhaps she decided that the quarter-deck was +farther above water than the waist. + +At any rate, curving back her trunk and "roomping" out the +perturbation of her spirit, she reared on her hind-legs, boosted +herself upon the roof of the house, and clawed aft. This +auto-shifting of cargo lifted the bow of the little schooner. Her +jibs, swashing soggily about her bow, were hoisted out of the water, +and a gust bellied them. On the pivot of her buried stern the _Dobson_ +swung like a top just as twin ledges threatened her broadside, and +she danced gayly between them, the wind tugging her along by her +far-flung jibs. + +In matter of wrecks, it is the outer rocks that smash; it is the teeth +of these ledges that tear timbers and macerate men. The straggling +remains are found later in the sandy cove. + +But with Imogene as unwitting master mariner in the crisis, the +schooner dodged the danger of the ledges by the skin of her barnacled +bottom, spun frothing up the cove in the yeast of the waves, bumped +half a dozen times as though searching suitable spot for +self-immolation, and at last, finding a bed of white sand, flattened +herself upon it with a racket of demolition--the squall of drawing +spikes her death-wail, the boom of water under her bursting deck her +grunt of dissolution. + +The compelling impulse that drives men to close personal contact in +times of danger had assembled all the crew of the schooner upon the +poop, the distracted Imogene in the centre. She wore the trappings +of servitude--the rude harness in which she had labored to draw up +the buckets of dirt on Cod Lead, the straps to which the tackle had +been fastened to hoist her on board the _Dobson_. + +When the deck went out from under them, the elephant was the biggest +thing left in reach. + +And as she went sturdily swimming off, trunk elevated above the +surges, the desperate crew of the _Dobson_ grabbed at straps and +dangling traces and went, too, towing behind her. Imogene could reach +the air with the end of her uplifted trunk. The men submerged at her +side gasped and strangled, but clung with the death-grip of drowning +men; and when at last she found bottom and dragged herself up the +beach with the waves beating at her, she carried them all, salvaged +from the sea in a fashion so marvellous that Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first +on his legs, had no voice left with which to express his sentiments. + +He staggered around to the front of the panting animal and solemnly +seized her trunk and waggled it in earnest hand-shake. + +"You're a dumb animile," he muttered, "and you prob'ly can't have +any idea of what I'm meanin' or sayin'. But I want to say to you, +man to elephant, that I wouldn't swap your hind-tail--which don't +seem to be of any use, anyway--for the whole Smyrna fire company. +I'm sayin' to you, frank and outspoken, that I was mad when you first +come aboard. I ask your pardon. Of course, you don't understand that. +But my mind is freer. Your name ought to be changed to Proverdunce, +and the United States Government ought to give you a medal bigger'n +a pie-plate." + +He turned and bent a disgusted stare on the gasping men dimly outlined +in the gloom. + +"I'd throw you back again," he snapped, "if it wa'n't for givin' the +Atlantic Ocean the colic." + +One by one they staggered up from the beach grass, revolved dizzily, +and with the truly homing instinct started away in the direction of +the fire-flare on the higher land of the island. + +Of that muddled company, he was the only one who had the least +knowledge of their whereabouts or guessed that those responsible for +the signal-fire were Colonel Gideon Ward and Eleazar Bodge. He +followed behind, steeling his soul to meet those victims of the +complicated plot. An astonished bleat from Hiram Look, who led the +column, announced them. Colonel Ward was doubled before the fire, +his long arms embracing his thin knees. Eleazar Bodge had just +brought a fresh armful of driftwood to heap on the blaze. + +"We thought it would bring help to us," cried the Colonel, who could +not see clearly through the smoke. "We've been left here by a set +of thieves and murderers." He unfolded himself and stood up. "You +get me in reach of a telegraph-office before nine o'clock to-morrow +and I'll make it worth your while." + +"By the long-horned heifers of Hebron!" bawled Hiram. "We've come +back to just the place we started from! If you built that fire to +tole us ashore here, I'll have you put into State Prison." + +"Here they are, Bodge!" shrieked the Colonel, his teeth chattering, +squirrel-like, in his passion. "Talk about State Prison to me! I'll +have the whole of you put there for bunco-men. You've stolen fifteen +thousand dollars from me. Where is that old hell-hound that's got +my check?" + +"Here are six square and responsible citizens of Smyrna that heard +you make your proposition and saw you pass that check," declared +Hiram, stoutly, awake thoroughly, now that his prized plot was +menaced. "It was a trade." + +"It was a steal!" The Colonel caught sight of Cap'n Sproul on the +outskirts of the group. "You cash that check and I'll have you behind +bars. I've stopped payment on it." + +"Did ye telegraft or ride to the bank on a bicycle?" inquired the +Cap'n, satirically. He came straight up to the fire, pushing the +furious Colonel to one side as he passed him. Angry as Ward was, he +did not dare to resist or attack this grim man who thus came upon +him, dripping, from the sea. + +"Keep out of the way of gentlemen who want to dry themselves," grunted +the skipper, and he calmly took possession of the fire, beckoning +his crew to follow him. The Colonel and Mr. Bodge were shut out from +the cheering blaze. + +The first thing Cap'n Sproul did, as he squatted down, was to pull +out his wallet and inspect the precious check. + +"It's pretty wet," he remarked, "but the ink ain't run any. A little +dryin' out is all it needs." + +And with Ward shouting fearful imprecations at him over the heads +of the group about the fire, he proceeded calmly to warm the check, +turning first one side and then the other to the blaze. + +"If you try to grab that," bawled Hiram, who was squatting beside +the Cap'n, eying him earnestly in his task, "I'll break in your head." +Then he nudged the elbow of the Cap'n, who had remained apparently +oblivious of his presence. "Aaron," he muttered, "there's been some +things between us to-night that I wish hadn't been. But I'm +quick-tempered, and I ain't used to the sea, and what I done was on +the spur of the moment. But I've shown that I'm your friend, and I'll +do more to show--" + +"Hiram," broke in the Cap'n, and his tone was severe, "mutiny ain't +easy overlooked. But considerin' that your elephant has squared +things for you, we'll let it stand as settled. But don't ever talk +about it. I'm havin' too hard work to control my feelin's." + +And then, looking up from the drying check, he fixed the vociferous +Colonel with flaming eyes. + +"Did ye hear me make a remark about my feelin's?" he rasped. "Your +business and my business has been settled, and here's the paper to +show for it." He slapped his hand across the check. "I didn't come +back here to talk it over." He gulped down his wrathful memory of +the reasons that had brought him. "You've bought Bodge. You've bought +Cap Kidd's treasure, wherever it is. You're welcome to Bodge and to +the treasure. And, controllin' Bodge as you do, you'd better let him +make you up another fire off some little ways from this one, because +this one ain't big enough for you and me both." The Cap'n's tone was +significant. There was stubborn menace there, also. After gazing for +a time on Sproul's uncompromising face and on the check so +tantalizingly displayed before the blaze, Colonel Ward turned and +went away. Ten minutes later a rival blaze mounted to the heavens +from a distant part of Cod Lead Nubble. Half an hour later Mr. Bodge +came as an emissary. He brought the gage of battle and flung it down +and departed instantly. + +"Colonel Ward says for me to say to you," he announced, "that he'll +bet a thousand dollars you don't dare to hand that check into any +bank." + +"And you tell him I'll bet five thousand dollars," bellowed the Cap'n, +"that I not only dare to cash it, but that I'll get to a bank and +do it before he can get anywhere and stop payment." + +"It's a pretty fair gamble both ways," remarked Hiram, his sporting +instincts awake. "You may know more about water and ways of gettin' +acrost that, but if this wind holds up the old spider will spin out +a thread and ride away on it. He's ga'nt enough!" + +Cap'n Sproul made no reply. He sat before his fire buried in thought, +the gale whipping past his ears. + +Colonel Ward, after ordering the returned and communicative Bodge +to shut up, was equally thoughtful as he gazed into his fire. +Ludelphus Murray, after trying long and in vain to light a soggy +pipeful of tobacco, gazed into the fire-lit faces of his comrades +of the Ancients and Honorables of Smyrna and said, with a sickly grin: + +"I wisht I knew Robinson Crusoe's address. He might like to run out +and spend the rest of the fall with us." + +But the jest did not cheer the gloom of the marooned on Cod Lead +Nubble. + + + + +XXIII + + +Cap'n Aaron Sproul had forgotten his troubles for a time. He had been +dozing. The shrewish night wind of autumn whistled over the ledges +of Cod Lead Nubble and scattered upon his gray beard the black ashes +from the bonfire that the shivering men of Smyrna still plied with +fuel. The Cap'n sat upright, his arms clasping his doubled knees, +his head bent forward. + +Hiram Look, faithful friend that he was, had curled himself at his +back and was snoring peacefully. He had the appearance of a corsair, +with his head wrapped in the huge handkerchief that had replaced the +plug hat lost in the stress and storm that had destroyed the _Aurilla +P. Dobson_. The elephant, Imogene, was bulked dimly in the first gray +of a soppy dawn. + +"If this is goin' to sea," said Jackson Denslow, continuing the sour +mutterings of the night, "I'm glad I never saw salt water before I +got pulled into this trip." + +"It ain't goin' to sea," remarked another of the Smyrna amateur +mariners. "It's goin' ashore!" He waved a disconsolate gesture +toward the cove where the remains of the _Dobson_ swashed in the +breakers. + +"If any one ever gets me navigatin' again onto anything desp'ritter +than a stone-bo't on Smyrna bog," said Denslow, "I hope my relatives +will have me put into a insane horsepittle." + +"Look at that!" shouted Ludelphus Murray. "This is a thunderation +nice kind of a night to have a celebration on!" + +This yelp, sounding above the somniferous monotone of grumbling, +stirred Cap'n Sproul from his dozing. He snapped his head up from +his knees. A rocket was streaking across the sky and popped with a +sprinkling of colored fires. Another and another followed with +desperate haste, and a Greek fire shed baleful light across the +waters. + +"Yes, sir," repeated Murray, indignantly sarcastic, "it's a nice +night and a nice time of night to be celebratin' when other folks +is cold and sufferin' and hungry." + +"What's the matter?" asked Hiram, stirring in his turn. + +The Cap'n was prompt with biting reply. + +"One of your Smyrna 'cyclopedys of things that ain't so is open at +the page headed 'idjit,' with a chaw of tobacker for a book-mark. +If the United States Government don't scoop in the whole of us for +maintainin' false beacons on a dangerous coast in a storm, then I +miss my cal'lations, that's all!" + +"That shows the right spirit out there," vouchsafed Hiram, his eyes +kindling as another rocket slashed the sky. "Fireworks as soon as +they've located us is the right spirit, I say! The least we can do +is to give 'em three cheers." + +But at this Cap'n Sproul staggered up, groaning as his old enemy, +rheumatism, dug its claws into his flesh. He made for the shore, his +disgust too deep for words. + +"Me--me," he grunted, "in with a gang that can't tell the difference +between a vessel goin' to pieces and a fireworks celebration! I don't +wonder that the Atlantic Ocean tasted of us and spit us ashore. She +couldn't stand it to drown us!" + +When the others straggled down and gabbled questions at him he +refused to reply, but stood peering into the lifting dawn. He got +a glimpse of her rig before her masts went over. She was a +hermaphrodite brig, and old-fashioned at that. She was old-fashioned +enough to have a figure-head. It came ashore at Cap'n Sproul's feet +as _avant-coureur_ of the rest of the wreckage. It led the procession +because it was the first to suffer when the brig butted her nose +against the Blue Cow Reef. It came ashore intact, a full-sized woman +carved from pine and painted white. The Cap'n recognized the fatuous +smile as the figure rolled its face up at him from the brine. + +"The old _Polyhymnia_!" he muttered. + +Far out there was a flutter of sail, and under his palm he descried +a big yawl making off the coast. She rode lightly, and he could see +only two heads above her gunwale. + +"That's Cap Hart Tate, all right," mused the Cap'n; "Cap Hart Tate +gallantly engaged in winnin' a medal by savin' his own life. But +knowin' Cap Hart Tate as well as I do, I don't see how he ever so +far forgot himself as to take along any one else. It must be the first +mate, and the first mate must have had a gun as a letter of +recommendation!" + +It may be said in passing that this was a distinctly shrewd guess, +and the Cap'n promptly found something on the seas that clinched his +belief. Bobbing toward Cod Lead came an overloaded dingy. There were +six men in it, and they were making what shift they could to guide +it into the cove between the outer rocks. They came riding through +safely on a roller, splattered across the cove with wildly waving +oars, and landed on the sand with a bump that sent them tumbling heels +over head out of the little boat. + +"Four Portygee sailors, the cook, and the second mate," elucidated +Cap'n Sproul, oracularly, for his own information. + +The second mate, a squat and burly sea-dog, was first up on his feet +in the white water, but stumbled over a struggling sailor who was +kicking his heels in an attempt to rise. When the irate mate was up +for the second time he knocked down this sailor and then strode ashore, +his meek followers coming after on their hands and knees. + +"Ahoy, there, Dunk Butts!" called Cap'n Sproul, heartily. + +But Dunk Butts did not appear to warm to greetings nor to rejoice +over his salvation from the sea. He squinted sourly at the Cap'n, +then at the men of Smyrna, and then his eyes fell upon the figurehead +and its fatuous smile. + +With a snarl he leaped on it, smashed his knuckles against its face, +swore horribly while he danced with pain, kicked it with his heavy +sea-boots, was more horribly profane as he hopped about with an +aching toe in the clutch of both hands, and at last picked up a +good-sized hunk of ledge and went at the smiling face with Berserker +rage. + +Cap'n Sproul had begun to frown at Butts's scornful slighting of his +amiable greeting. Now he ran forward, placed his broad boot against +the second mate, and vigorously pushed him away from the prostrate +figure. When Butts came up at him with the fragment of rock in his +grasp, Cap'n Sproul faced him with alacrity, also with a piece of +rock. + +"You've knowed me thutty years and sailed with me five, Dunk Butts, +and ye're shinnin' into the wrong riggin' when ye come at me with +a rock. I ain't in no very gentle spirits to-day, neither." + +"I wasn't doin' northin' to you," squealed Butts, his anger becoming +mere querulous reproach, for the Cap'n's eye was fiery and Butts's +memory was good. + +"You was strikin' a female," said Cap'n Sproul, with severity, and +when the astonished Butts blazed indignant remonstrance, he insisted +on his point with a stubbornness that allowed no compromise. "It +don't make any difference even if it is only a painted figger. It's +showin' disrespect to the sex, and sence I've settled on shore, Butts, +and am married to the best woman that ever lived, I'm standin' up +for the sex to the extent that I ain't seein' no insults handed to +a woman--even if it ain't anything but an Injun maiden in front of +a cigar-store." + +Butts dropped his rock. + +"I never hurt a woman, and I would never hurt one," he protested, +"and you that's sailed with me knows it. But that blasted, grinnin' +effijiggy there stands for that rotten old punk-heap that's jest gone +to pieces out yender, and it's the only thing I've got to get back +on. Three months from Turk's Island, Cap'n Sproul, with a salt cargo +and grub that would gag a dogfish! Lay down half a biskit and it would +walk off. All I've et for six weeks has been doughboys lolloped in +Porty Reek. He kicked me when I complained." Butts shook wavering +finger at the shred of sail in the distance. "He kept us off with +the gun to-day and sailed away in the yawl, and he never cared whuther +we ever got ashore or not. And the grin he give me when he done it +was jest like the grin on that thing there." Again the perturbed Butts +showed signs of a desire to assault the wooden incarnation of the +spirit of the _Polyhymnia_. + +"A man who has been abused as much as you have been abused at sea +has good reason to stand up for your rights when you are abused the +moment you reach shore," barked a harsh voice. Colonel Gideon Ward, +backed by the faithful Eleazar Bodge, stood safely aloof on a huge +bowlder, his gaunt frame outlined against the morning sky. "Are you +the commander of those men?" he inquired. + +"I'm second mate," answered Mr. Butts. + +"You and your men are down there associatin' with the most pestilent +set of robbers and land-pirates that ever disgraced a civilized +country," announced the Colonel. "They robbed me of fifteen thousand +dollars and left me marooned here on this desert island, but the wind +of Providence blew 'em back, and the devil wouldn't have 'em in Tophet, +and here they are. They'll have your wallets and your gizzards if +you don't get away from 'em. I invite you over there to my fire, +gentlemen. Mr.--" + +"Butts," said the second mate, staring with some concern at the group +about him and at the Cap'n, who still held his fragment of rock. + +"Mr. Butts, you and your men come with me and I'll tell you a story +that will--" + +Hiram Look thrust forward at this moment. The ex-showman was not a +reassuring personality to meet shipwrecked mariners. His big +handkerchief was knotted about his head in true buccaneer style. The +horns of his huge mustache stuck out fiercely. Mr. Butts and his timid +Portuguese shrank. + +"He's a whack-fired, jog-jiggered old sanup of a liar," bellowed this +startling apparition, who might have been Blackbeard himself. "We +only have got back the fifteen thousand that he stole from us." + +These amazing figures dizzied Mr. Butts, and his face revealed his +feelings. He blinked from one party to the other with swiftly +calculating gaze. Looking at the angry Hiram, he backed away two +steps. After staring at the unkempt members of the Smyrna fire +department, ranged behind their foreman, he backed three steps more. +And then reflecting that the man of the piratical countenance had +unblushingly confessed to the present possession of the disputed +fortune, he clasped his hands to his own money-belt and hurried over +to Colonel Ward's rock, his men scuttling behind him. + +"Don't you believe their lies," bellowed the Colonel, breaking in +on Hiram's eager explanations of the timber-land deal and the quest +of the treasure they had come to Cod Lead to unearth. "I'll take you +right to the hole they sold to me, I'll show you the plank cover they +made believe was the lid of a treasure-chest, I'll prove to you they +are pirates. We've got to stand together." He hastened to Mr. Butts +and linked his arm in the seaman's, drawing him away. "There's only +two of us. We can't hurt you. We don't want to hurt you. But if you +stay among that bunch they'll have your liver, lights, and your +heart's blood." + +Five minutes later the Ward camp was posted on a distant pinnacle +of the island. Cap'n Sproul had watched their retreat without a word, +his brows knitted, his fists clutched at his side, and his whole +attitude representing earnest consideration of a problem. He shook +his head at Hiram's advice to pursue Mr. Butts and drag him and his +men away from the enemy. It occurred to him that the friendliest chase +would look like an attack. He reflected that he had not adopted +exactly the tactics that were likely to warm over the buried embers +of friendship in Mr. Butts's bosom. He remembered through the mists +of the years that something like a kick or a belaying-pin had been +connected with Mr. Butts's retirement from the _Benn_. + +And until he could straighten out in his mind just what that parting +difficulty had been, and how much his temper had triumphed over his +justice to Butts, and until he had figured out a little something +in the line of diplomatic conciliation, he decided to squat for a +time beside his own fire and ruminate. + +For an hour he sat, his brow gloomy, and looked across to where +Colonel Ward was talking to Butts, his arms revolving like the fans +of a crazy windmill. + +"Lord! Cap'n Aaron," blurted Hiram at last, "he's pumpin' lies into +that shipmate of yourn till even from this distance I can see him +swellin' like a hop-toad under a mullein leaf. I tell you, you've +got to do something. What if it should come calm and you ain't got +him talked over and they should take the boat and row over to the +mainland? Where'd you and your check be if he gets to the bank first? +You listen to my advice and grab in there or we might just as well +never have got up that complicated plot to get even with the old son +of a seco." + +"Hiram," said the Cap'n, after a moment's deliberation, the last +hours of the _Aurilla P. Dobson_ rankling still, "sence you and your +gang mutinied on me and made me let a chartered schooner go to smash +I ain't had no especial confidence in your advice in crisises. I've +seen you hold your head level in crisises on shore--away from salt +water, but you don't fit in 'board ship. And this, here, comes near +enough to bein' 'board ship to cut you out. I don't take any more +chances with you and the Smyrna fire department till I get inland +at least fifty miles from tide-water." + +Hiram bent injured gaze on him. + +"You're turnin' down a friend in a tight place," he complained. "I've +talked it over with the boys and they stand ready to lick those dagos +and take the boat, there, and row you ashore." + +But his wistful gaze quailed under the stare the Cap'n bent on him. +The mariner flapped discrediting hand at the pathetic half-dozen +castaways poking among the rocks for mussels with which to stay their +hunger. + +"Me get in a boat again with that outfit? Why, I wouldn't ride acrost +a duck pond in an ocean liner with 'em unless they were crated and +battened below hatches." He smacked his hard fist into his palm. +"There they straddle, like crows on new-ploughed land, huntin' for +something to eat, and no thought above it, and there ain't one of +'em come to a reelizin' sense yet that they committed a State Prison +offence last night when they mutinied and locked me into my own cabin +like a cat in a coop. Now I don't want to have any more trouble over +it with you, Hiram, for we've been too good friends, and will try +to continner so after this thing is over and done with, but if you +or that gang of up-country sparrer-hawks stick your fingers or your +noses into this business that I'm in now, I'll give the lobsters and +cunners round this island just six good hearty meals. Now, that's +the business end, and it's whittled pickid, and you want to let alone +of it!" + +He struggled up and strode away across the little valley between the +stronghold of Colonel Ward and his own hillock. + +Colonel Ward stood up when he saw him approaching, and Butts, after +getting busy with something on the ground, stood up, also. When the +Cap'n got nearer he noted that Butts had his arms full of rocks. + +"Dunk," called Cap'n Sproul, placatingly, pausing at a hostile +movement, "you've had quite a long yarn with that critter there, +who's been fillin' you up with lies about me, and now it's only fair +that as an old shipmate you should listen to my side. I--" + +"You bear off!" blustered Mr. Butts. "You hold your own course, +'cause the minute you get under my bows I'll give you a broadside +that will put your colors down. You've kicked me the last time you're +ever goin' to." + +"I was thinkin' it was a belayin'-pin that time aboard the _Benn_," +muttered the Cap'n. "I guess I must have forgot and kicked him." Then +once again he raised his voice in appeal. "You're the first seafarin' +man I know of that left your own kind to take sides with a land-pirut." + +"You ain't seafarin' no more," retorted Mr. Butts, insolently. "Talk +to me of bein' seafarin' with that crowd of jays you've got round +you! You ain't northin' but moss-backs and bunko-men." Cap'n Sproul +glanced over his shoulder at the men of Smyrna and groaned under his +breath. "I never knowed a seafarin' man to grow to any good after +he settled ashore. Havin' it in ye all the time, you've turned out +a little worse than the others, that's all." + +Mr. Butts continued on in this strain of insult, having the advantage +of position and ammunition and the mind to square old scores. And +after a time Cap'n Sproul turned and trudged back across the valley. + +There was such ferocity on his face when he sat down by his fire that +Hiram Look gulped back the questions that were in his throat. He +recognized that it was a crisis, realized that Cap'n Sproul was +autocrat, and refrained from irritating speech. + + + + +XXIV + + +By noon the sun shone on Cod Lead wanly between ragged clouds. But +its smile did not warm Cap'n Sproul's feelings. Weariness, +rheumatism, resentment that became bitterer the more he pondered on +the loss of the _Dobson_, and gnawing hunger combined to make a single +sentiment of sullen fury; the spectacle of Colonel Ward busy with +his schemes on the neighboring pinnacle sharpened his anger into +something like ferocity. + +The wind had died into fitful breaths. The sea still beat furiously +on the outer ledges of the island, but in the reach between the island +and the distant main there was a living chance for a small boat. It +was not a chance that unskilful rowers would want to venture upon, +but given the right crew the Cap'n reflected that he would be willing +to try it. + +Evidently Mr. Butts, being an able seaman, was reflecting upon +something of the same sort. The Portuguese sailors, the last one of +the departing four dodging a kick launched at him by Mr. Butts, went +down to the shore, pulled the abandoned dingy upon the sand, and +emptied the water out of it. They fished the oars out of the flotsam +in the cove. Then they sat down on the upturned boat, manifestly under +orders and awaiting further commands. + +"Then ye're goin' to let 'em do it, be ye?" huskily asked Hiram. +"Goin' to let him get to the bank and stop payment on that check? +I tell you the boys can get that boat away from 'em! It better be +smashed than used to carry Gid Ward off'm this island." + +But Cap'n Sproul did not interrupt his bitter ruminations to reply. +He merely shot disdainful glance at the Smyrna men, still busy among +the mussels. + +It was apparent that Mr. Butts had decided that he would feel more +at ease upon his pinnacle until the hour arrived for embarkation. +In the game of stone-throwing, should Cap'n Sproul accept that gage +of battle, the beach was too vulnerable a fortress, and, like a +prudent commander, Mr. Butts had sent a forlorn hope onto the +firing-line to test conditions. This was all clear to Cap'n Sproul. +As to Mr. Butts's exact intentions relative to the process of getting +safely away, the Cap'n was not so clear. + +"Portygees!" he muttered over and over. "There's men that knows winds, +tides, rocks, shoals, currents, compass, and riggin' that don't know +Portygees. It takes a master mariner to know Portygees. It takes +Portygees to know a master mariner. They know the language. They know +the style. They get the idee by the way he looks at 'em. It's what +he says and the way he says it. Second mates ain't got it. P'r'aps +I ain't got it, after bein' on shore among clodhoppers for two years. +But, by Judas Iscarrot, I'm goin' to start in and find out! Portygees! +There's Portygees! Here's me that has handled 'em--batted brains +into 'em as they've come over the side, one by one, and started 'em +goin' like I'd wind up a watch! And a belayin'-pin is the key!" + +He arose with great decision, buttoned his jacket, cocked his cap +to an angle of authority on his gray hair, and started down the hill +toward the boat. + +"He's goin' to call in his bunko-men and take that boat," bleated +Mr. Butts to Colonel Ward. + +"Wild hosses couldn't drag him into a boat again with those human +toadstools, and I've heard him swear round here enough to know it," +scoffed the Colonel. "He's just goin' down to try to wheedle your +sailors like he tried to wheedle you, and they're your men and he +can't do it." + +And in the face of this authority and confidence in the situation +Mr. Butts subsided, thankful for an excuse to keep at a respectful +distance from Cap'n Aaron Sproul. + +That doughty expert on "Portygees" strode past the awed crew with +an air that they instinctively recognized as belonging to the +quarter-deck. Their meek eyes followed him as he stumped into the +swash and kicked up two belaying-pins floating in the debris. He took +one in each hand, came back at them on the trot, opening the +flood-gates of his language. And they instinctively recognized that +as quarter-deck, too. They knew that no mere mate could possess that +quality of utterance and redundancy of speech. + +He had a name for each one as he hit him. It was a game of "Tag, you're +it!" that made him master, in that moment of amazement, from the mere +suddenness of it. A man with less assurance and slighter knowledge +of sailorman character might have been less abrupt--might have given +them a moment in which to reflect. Cap'n Aaron Sproul kept them +going--did their thinking for them, dizzied their brains by thwacks +of the pins, deafened their ears by his terrific language. + +In fifteen seconds they had run the dingy into the surf, had shipped +oars, and were lustily pulling away--Cap'n Sproul in the stern +roaring abuse at them in a way that drowned the howls of Mr. Butts, +who came peltering down the hill. + +But Hiram Look was even more nimble than that protesting seaman. + +Before the little craft was fairly under way he plunged into the surf +waist-deep and scrambled over the stern, nearly upsetting the Cap'n +as he rolled in. + +And Imogene, the elephant, a faithful and adoring pachyderm, pursued +her lord and master into the sea. + +Cap'n Sproul, recovering his balance and resuming his interrupted +invective, was startled by the waving of her trunk above his head, +and his rowers quit work, squealing with terror, for the huge beast +was making evident and desperate attempts to climb on board and join +her fleeing owner. It was a rather complicated crisis even for a +seaman, accustomed to splitting seconds in his battling with +emergencies. An elephant, unusual element in marine considerations, +lent the complication. + +But the old sea-dog who had so instantly made himself master of men +now made himself master of the situation, before the anxious Imogene +had got so much as one big foot over the gunwale. He picked up the +late-arriving Jonah, and, in spite of Hiram's kicks and curses, +jettisoned him with a splash that shot spray over the pursuing +elephant and blinded her eyes. + +"Row--row, you blue-faced sons of Gehenna, or she'll eat all four +of you!" shrieked the Cap'n; and in that moment of stress they rowed! +Rowed now not because Cap'n Sproul commanded--nor ceased from rowing +because Mr. Butts countermanded. They rowed for their own lives to +escape the ravening beast that had chased them into the sea. + +Cap'n Sproul, watching his chance, took a small wave after the +seventh big roller, let it cuff his bow to starboard, and made for +the lee of Cod Lead, rounding the island into the reach. He was safely +away and, gazing into the faces of the Portuguese, he grimly +reflected that for impressed men they seemed fully as glad to be away +as he. They rowed now without further monition, clucking, each to +himself, little prayers for their safe deliverance from the beast. + +It was not possible, with safety, to cut across the reach straight +for the main, so the Cap'n quartered his course before the wind and +went swinging down the seas, with little chance of coming soon to +shore, but confident of his seamanship. + +But that seamanship was not sufficient to embolden him into an +attempt to dodge a steamer with two masts and a dun funnel that came +rolling out from behind Eggemoggin and bore toward him up the reach. +He was too old a sailor not to know that she was the patrol cutter +of the revenue service; wind and sea forced him to keep on across +her bows. + +She slowed her engines and swung to give him a lee. Cap'n Sproul swore +under his breath, cursed aloud at his patient rowers, and told them +to keep on. And when these astonishing tactics of a lonely dingy in +a raging sea were observed from the bridge of the cutter, a red-nosed +and profane man, who wore a faded blue cap with peak over one ear, +gave orders to lower away a sponson boat, and came himself as coxswain, +as though unwilling to defer the time of reckoning with such +recalcitrants. + +"What in billy-be-doosen and thunderation do you mean, you +weevil-chawers, by not coming alongside when signalled--and us with +a dozen wrecks to chase 'longshore?" he demanded, laying officious +hand on the tossing gunwale of the dingy. + +"We're attendin' strictly to our own business, and the United States +Govvument better take pattern and go along and mind its own," +retorted Cap'n Sproul, with so little of the spirit of gratitude that +a shipwrecked mariner ought to display that the cutter officer glared +at him with deep suspicion. + +"What were you mixed up in--mutiny or barratry?" he growled. "We'll +find out later. Get in here!" + +"This suits me!" said Cap'n Sproul, stubbornly. + +The next moment he and his Portuguese were yanked over the side of +the boat into the life-craft--a dozen sturdy chaps assisting the +transfer. + +"Let the peapod go afloat," directed the gruff officer. "It's off +the _Polyhymnia_--name on the stern-sheets--evidence enough--notice, +men!" + +"I'm not off the _Polyhymnia_," protested Cap'n Sproul, indignantly. +"I was goin' along 'tendin' to my own business, and you can't--" + +"Business?" sneered the man of the faded blue cap. "I thought you +were out for a pleasure sail! You shut up!" he snapped, checking +further complaints from the Cap'n. "If you've got a story that will +fit in with your crazy-man actions, then you can wait and tell it +to the court. As for me, I believe you're a gang of mutineers!" And +after that bit of insolence the Cap'n was indignantly silent. + +The cutter jingled her full-speed bell while the tackle was still +lifting the sponson boat. + +"They're ugly, and are hiding something," called the man of the faded +cap, swinging up the bridge-ladder. "No good to pump more lies out +of them. We'll go where they came from, and we'll get there before +we can ask questions and get straight replies." + +Cap'n Sproul, left alone on the cutter's deck, took out his big wallet, +abstracted that fifteen-thousand-dollar check signed by Gideon Ward, +and seemed about to fling it into the sea. + +"Talk about your hoodoos!" he gritted. "Talk about your banana skins +of Tophet! Twice I've slipped up on it and struck that infernal island. +Even his name written on a piece of paper is a cuss to the man that +lugs it!" + +But after hale second thought he put the check back into his wallet +and the wallet into his breast pocket and buttoned his coat securely. +And the set of his jaws and the wrinkling of his forehead showed that +the duel between him and Colonel Ward was not yet over. + +As the steamer with the dun smoke-stack approached Cod Lead he noted +sourly the frantic signallings of the marooned. He leaned on the rail +and watched the departure of the officer of the faded blue cap with +his crew of the sponson boat. He observed the details of the animated +meeting of the rescuers and the rescued. Without great astonishment +he saw that Hiram, of all the others, remained on shore, leaning +disconsolately against the protecting bulk of Imogene. + +"It's most a wonder he didn't try to load that infernal elephant onto +that life-boat," he muttered. "If I couldn't travel through life +without bein' tagged by an old gob of meat of that size, I'd hire +a museum and settle down in it." + +Cap'n Sproul, still leaning on the rail, paid no attention to the +snort that Colonel Ward emitted as he passed on his way to the +security of the steamer's deck. He resolutely avoided the +reproachful starings of the members of the Smyrna fire department +as they struggled on board. Mr. Butts came last and attempted to say +something, but retreated promptly before the Cap'n's fiendish snarl +and clicking teeth. + +"That man there, with the elephant, says he can't leave her," +reported Faded Cap to the wondering group on the bridge. + +"A United States cutter isn't sent out to collect menageries +accompanied by dry-nurses," stated the commander. "What is this job +lot, anyway--a circus in distress?" + +"Says the elephant can swim out if we'll rig a tackle and hoist her +on board. Says elephant is used to it." + +Something in the loneliness of the deserted two on Cod Lead must have +appealed to the commander. He was profane about it, and talked about +elephants and men who owned them in a way that struck an answering +chord in the Cap'n's breast. But he finally gave orders for the +embarkation of Imogene, and after much more profanity and more slurs +which Hiram was obliged to listen to meekly, the task was +accomplished, and the cutter proceeded on her way along coast on +further errands of mercy. + +And then the Cap'n turned and gazed on Hiram, and the showman gazed +on the Cap'n. The latter spoke first. + +"Hiram," he said, "it ain't best for you and me to talk this thing +over, just as it stands now--not till we get back to Smyrna and set +down on my front piazzy. P'r'aps things won't look so skeow-wowed +then to us as they do now. We won't talk till then." + +But the captain of the cutter was not as liberal-minded. In the +process of preparing his report he attempted to interview both the +Cap'n and Colonel Ward at the same time in his cabin, and at the height +of the riot of recriminations that ensued was obliged to call in some +deck-hands and have both ejected. Then he listened to them separately +with increasing interest. + +"When you brought this family fight down here to sprinkle salt water +on it," he said at last, having the two of them before him again, +with a deck-hand restraining each, "you didn't get it preserved well +enough to keep it from smelling. I don't reckon I'll stir it. It +doesn't seem to be a marine disaster. The United States Government +has got other things to attend to just now besides settling it. +Listen!" + +He held up a forefinger. + +"Smyrna isn't so far away from the seashore but what I've had plenty +of chances to hear of Colonel Gideon Ward and his general dealings +with his neighbors. For myself, I'd rather have less money and a +reputation that didn't spread quite so far over the edges. As for +you, Cap'n Sproul, as a seaman I can sympathize with you about getting +cheated by land-pirates in that timber-land deal and in other things. +But as a representative of the Government I'm not going to help you +make good to the extent of fifteen thousand dollars on a hole and +a Cap Kidd treasure fake. Hands off for me, seeing that it's a matter +strictly in the family! This cutter is due to round to in Portland +harbor to-morrow morning a little after nine o'clock. I'll send the +two of you in my gig to Commercial Wharf, see that both are landed +at the same time, and then--well"--the commander turned quizzical +gaze from one to the other with full appreciation of the +situation--"it then depends on what you do, each of you, and how quick +you do it." + +The Cap'n walked out of the room, his hand on his breast pocket. +Colonel Ward followed, closing and unclosing his long fingers as if +his hands itched to get at that pocket. + +At the first peep of dawn Cap'n Aaron Sproul was posted at the +cutter's fore windlass, eyes straight ahead on the nick in the low, +blue line of coast that marked the harbor's entrance. His air was +that of a man whose anxiety could not tolerate any post except the +forepeak. And to him there came Hiram Look with tremulous eagerness +in his voice and the weight of a secret in his soul. + +"I heard him and Butts talkin' last night, Cap'n Aaron," he announced. +"It was Butts that thought of it first. The telefoam. 'Run into the +first place and grab a telefoam,' says Butts. 'Telefoam 'em at the +bank to stop payment. It will take him ten minutes to run up from +the wharf. Let him think you're right behind him. He's got to go to +the bank,' says Butts. 'He can't telefoam 'em to pay the check.'" + +The Cap'n's hand dropped dispiritedly from his clutch at his pocket. + +"I knowed something would stop me," he mourned. "The whole plot is +a hoodoo. There I was fired back twice onto Cod Lead! Here he is, +landin' the same time as I do! And when he stops that check it throws +it into law--and I've got the laborin'-oar." + +"It ain't throwed into law yet, and you ain't got no laborin'-oar," +cried Hiram, with a chuckle that astonished the despondent Cap'n. +"He can't telefoam!" + +"Can't what?" + +"Why, stayin' out in that rain-storm has give him the most jeeroosly +cold there's been sence Aunt Jerushy recommended thoroughwort tea! +It's right in his thro't, and he ain't got so much voice left as wind +blowing acrost a bottle. Can't make a sound! The bank folks ain't +goin' to take any one's say-so for him. Not against a man like you +that's got thutty thousand dollars in the same bank, and a man that +they know! By the time he got it explained to any one so that they'd +mix in, you can be at the bank and have it all done." + +"Well, he ain't got cold in his legs, has he?" demanded the Cap'n, +failing to warm to Hiram's enthusiasm. "It stands jest where it has +been standin'. There ain't no reason why he can't get to that bank +as quick as I can. Yes, quicker! I ain't built up like an ostrich, +the way he is." + +"Well," remarked Hiram, after a time, "a fair show and an even start +is more'n most folks get in this life--and you've got that. The boss +of this boat is goin' to give you that much. So all you can do is +to take what's given you and do the best you can. And all I can do +is stay back here and sweat blood and say the only prayer that I know, +which is 'Now I lay me down to sleep.'" + +And after this bit of consolation he went back amidships to comfort +the hungry Imogene, who had been unable to find much in the cuisine +of a revenue cutter that would satisfy the appetite of elephants. + +At half-past nine in the forenoon the cutter swept past Bug Light +and into the inner harbor. Hardly had the steamer swung with the tide +at her anchorage before the captain's gig was proceeding briskly +toward Commercial Wharf, two men rowing and the man of the faded blue +cap at the helm. The antagonists in the strange duello sat back to +back, astraddle a seat. At this hateful contact their hair seemed +fairly to bristle. + +"Now, gents," said Faded Cap, as they approached the wharf, "the +skipper said he wanted fair play. No scrougin' to get out onto the +ladder first. I'm goin' to land at the double ladder at the end of +the wharf, and there's room for both of you. I'll say 'Now!' and then +you start." + +"You fellers are gettin' a good deal of fun out this thing," sputtered +Cap'n Sproul, angrily, "but don't you think I don't know it and resent +it. Now, don't you talk to me like you were startin' a foot-race!" + +"What is it, if it ain't a foot-race?" inquired Faded Cap, calmly. +"They don't have hacks or trolley-cars on that wharf, and you'll +either have to run or fly, and I don't see any signs of wings on you." + +Colonel Ward did not join in this remonstrance. He only worked his +jaws and uttered a few croaks. + +When the gig surged to the foot of the ladder, Colonel Ward attempted +a desperate play, and an unfair one. He was on the outside, and leaped +up, stepped on Cap'n Sproul, and sprang for the ladder. The Cap'n +was quick enough to grab his legs, yank him back into the boat, and +mount over him in his turn. The man of the faded cap was nearly stunned +by Ward falling on him, and the rowers lost their oars. + +When the Colonel had untangled himself from the indignant seamen and +had escaped up the ladder, Cap'n Sproul was pelting up the wharf at +a most amazing clip, considering his short legs. Before Ward had +fairly gathered himself for the chase his fifteen-thousand-dollar +check and the man bearing it had disappeared around a corner into +the street. + +But the squat and stubby old sailor stood little show in a foot-race +with his gaunt and sinewy adversary. It was undoubtedly Colonel +Ward's knowledge of this that now led him to make the race the test +of victory instead of depending on an interpreter over the telephone. +A little more than a block from the wharf's lane he came up with and +passed his adversary. Men running for trolley-cars and steamboats +were common enough on the busy thoroughfare, and people merely made +way for the sprinters. + +But when Colonel Ward was a few lengths ahead of the Cap'n, the latter +made use of an expedient that the voiceless Colonel could not have +employed even if he had thought of it. + +With all the force of his seaman's lungs he bellowed: "Stop thief!" +and pounded on behind, reiterating the cry vociferously. At first +he had the pursuit all to himself, for bystanders merely ducked to +one side. But earnest repetition compels attention, and attention +arouses interest, and interest provokes zeal. In a little while a +dozen men were chasing the Colonel, and when that gentleman went +lashing around the corner into Congress Street he--by an entirely +natural order of events--ran into a policeman, for the policeman was +running in the opposite direction to discover what all that +approaching hullabaloo was about. + +Cap'n Sproul, prudently on the outskirts of the gathering crowd, +noted with rising hope that the policeman and the Colonel were +rolling over each other on the ground, and that even when officious +hands had separated them the facial contortions of the voiceless +tyrant of Smyrna were not making any favorable impression on the +offended bluecoat. + +Cap'n Sproul started away for the bank at a trot. But he began to +walk when he heard the policeman shout: "Aw, there's enough of ye'r +moonkey faces at me. Yez will coome along to th' station, and talk +it on yer fingers to th' marshal!" + +At the bank door the Cap'n halted, wiped his face, composed his +features, set on his cap at an entirely self-possessed angle, and +then marched in to the wicket. + +"Will you have this transferred to your account, Captain Sproul?" +inquired the teller, with the deference due to a good customer. + +The Cap'n anxiously bent a stubbed finger around a bar of the grating. +Sudden anxiety as to leaving the money there beset him. After his +perils and his toils he wanted to feel that cash--to realize that +he had actually cashed in that hateful check. + +"I'll take the real plasters," he said, huskily; "big ones as you've +got. I--I want to pay for some vessel property!" He reflected that +the few hundreds that the loss of the ancient _Dobson_ called for +lifted this statement out of the cheap level of prevarication. + +When he hurried out of the bank with various thick packets stowed +about his person, he headed a straight course for the police-station. + +In the marshal's office he found Colonel Gideon Ward, voiceless, +frantic, trembling--licking at the point of a stubby lead-pencil +that had been shoved into his grasp, and trying to compose his soul +sufficiently to write out some of the information about himself, with +which he was bursting. + +"There ain't no call for this man to write out the story of his life," +declared Cap'n Sproul, with an authority in his tones and +positiveness in his manner that did not fail to impress the marshal. +"He is my brother-in-law, he is Colonel Gideon Ward, of Smyrna, a +man with more'n a hundred thousand dollars, and any one that accuses +him of bein' a thief is a liar, and I stand here to prove it." + +And to think there was no one present except the Colonel to appreciate +the cryptic humor of that remark! + +The Cap'n avoided the demoniacal gaze that Ward bent on him and +disregarded the workings of that speechless mouth. Sproul shoved his +hand deep into his trousers pocket and pulled out a roll of bills +on which the teller's tape had not been broken. At this sight the +Colonel staggered to his feet. + +"Here!" cried the Cap'n, shoving money into the hand of the officer +who had made the arrest. "There's something to pay for your muddy +clothes. Now you'd better go out and find the man that started all +this touse about a leadin' citizen. I'll sue this city as a relative +of his if you don't let him go this minute." + +And they let him go, with an apology that Colonel Ward treated with +perfectly insulting contempt. + +Cap'n Sproul faced him on the street outside the prison, standing +prudently at guard, for he perfectly realized that just at that +moment Colonel Gideon Ward had all the attributes of a lunatic. + +"You can see it bulgin' all over me," said the Cap'n, "all tied up +in bundles. I don't say my way was the best way to get it. But I've +got it. I suppose I might have gone to law to get it, but that ain't +my way. Of course you can go to law to get it back; but for reasons +that you know just as well as I, I'd advise you not to--and that advice +don't cost you a cent." + +For a full minute Colonel Ward stood before him and writhed his gaunt +form and twisted his blue lips and waggled his bony jaws. But not +a sound could he utter. Then he whirled and signalled a trolley-car +and climbed on board. With intense satisfaction the Cap'n noted that +the car was marked "Union Station." + +"Well, home is the best place for him," muttered the Cap'n; "home +and a flaxseed poultice on his chist and complete rest of mind and +body. Now I'll settle for that schooner, hunt up Hime Look and that +pertickler and admirin' friend of his, that infernal elephant, and +then I reckon I'll--eraow-w-w!" he yawned. "I'll go home and rest +up a little, too." + +That repose was not disturbed by Colonel Gideon Ward. The Colonel +had decided that affairs in his timber tracts needed his attention +during that autumn. + + + + +XXV + + +Events do bunch themselves strangely, sometimes. + +They bunched in Smyrna as follows: + +1. The new monument arrived for Batson Reeves's graveyard lot in +which was interred the first Mrs. Reeves; monument a belated arrival. + +2. The announcement was made that Batson Reeves had at last caught +a new wife in the person of Widow Delora Crymble, wedding set for +Tuesday week. + +3. Dependence Crymble, deceased husband of Delora, reappeared on +earth. This latter event to be further elaborated. + +Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman of Smyrna, on his way from his +home to the town office, found several men leaning on the graveyard +fence, gazing over into the hallowed precincts of the dead with +entire lack of that solemnity that is supposed to be attached to +graveyards. It was on the morning following the last stroke of work +on the Reeves monument. + +The Reeves monument, a wholly unique affair, consisted of a +life-sized granite figure of Mr. Reeves standing on a granite +pedestal in the conventional attitude of a man having his photograph +taken. His head was set back stiffly, the right foot was well advanced, +and he held a round-topped hat in the hook of his elbow. + +On the pedestal was carved: + + ERECTED TO THE MEMORY OF + LOANTHA REEVES, + WIFE OF BATSON REEVES, ACCORDING TO HER + LAST REQUEST. + +It may be said in passing that Mrs. Reeves, having entertained a very +exalted opinion of Mr. Reeves during life, left a portion of her own +estate in the hands of trustees in order that this sentinel figure +should stand guard above her in the sunshine and the rain. The idea +was poetic. But Cap'n Sproul, joining the hilarious group at the +graveyard fence, noted that some gruesome village humorist had +seriously interfered with the poetic idea. Painted on a planed board +set up against the monument was this: + + I'm Watching Here Both Night and Day, + So Number One Can't Get Away. + +"That's kind o' pat, Cap'n, considerin' he's goin' to get married +to Number Two next week," suggested one of the loungers. + +Cap'n Sproul scowled into the grin that the other turned on him. + +"I ain't got any regard for a human dogfish like Bat Reeves," he +grunted, his heart full of righteous bitterness against a proclaimed +enemy, "but as first selectman of this town I don't stand for makin' +a comic joke-book out of this cemetery." He climbed over the fence, +secured the offending board and split it across his broad toe. Then +with the pieces under his arm he trudged on toward the town office, +having it in his mind to use the board for kindling in the barrel +stove. + +One strip he whittled savagely into shavings and the other he broke +into fagots, and when the fire was snapping merrily in the rusty stove +he resumed a labor upon which he had been intent for several days. +Predecessors in office had called it "writing the town report." Cap'n +Sproul called it "loggin' the year's run." + +A pen never did hang easy in the old shipmaster's stiff fingers. The +mental travail of this unwonted literary effort wrung his brain. An +epic poet struggling with his masterpiece could not have been more +rapt. And his nerves were correspondingly touchy. Constable Zeburee +Nute, emerging at a brisk trot from the town office, had a warning +word of counsel for all those intending to venture upon the first +selectman's privacy. He delivered it at Broadway's store. + +"Talk about your r'yal Peeruvian tigers with eighteen rings on their +tails! He's settin' there with his hair standin' straight up and ink +on his nose and clear to his elbows, and he didn't let me even get +started in conversation. He up and throwed three ledger-books and +five sticks of wood at me, and--so I come away," added Mr. Nute, +resignedly. "I don't advise nobody to go in there." + +However, the warning delivered at Broadway's store did not reach a +certain tall, thin man; for the tall, thin man stalked straight +through the village and up to the door inscribed "Selectman's +Office." In his hand he carried a little valise about as large as +a loaf of yeast bread. The shrewish December wind snapped trousers +about legs like broom-handles. Black pads were hugged to his ears +by a steel strip that curved behind his head, and he wore a hard hat +that seemed merely to perch insecurely on his caput instead of fit. +Constable Nute, getting a glimpse of him through the store-window, +remarked that with five minutes and a razor-strop he could put a +shaving edge on the stranger's visage, but added promptly when he +saw him disappear into the town office that some one could probably +get a job within the next five minutes honing the nicks out of that +edge. + +Cap'n Sproul was just then absorbed in a task that he hated even worse +than literary composition. He was adding figures. They were the items +for road bills, and there were at least two yards of them on sheets +of paper pasted together, for nearly every voter in town was +represented. The Cap'n was half-way up one of the columns, and was +exercising all his mental grip to hold on to the slowly increasing +total on which he was laboriously piling units. + +"I am always glad to meet a man who loves figgers," remarked the +stranger, solemnly. He set his valise on the table and leaned over +the Cap'n's shoulder. "I have wonderful faculty for figgers. Give +me a number and I'll tell you the cube of it instantly, in the snap +of a finger." + +Cap'n Sproul merely ground his teeth and shoved his nose closer to +the paper. He did not dare to look up. His whole soul was centred +in effort to "walk the crack" of that column. + +"I could do it when I was fifteen--and that was fifty years ago," +went on the thin man. + +The enunciation of those figures nearly put the Cap'n out of +commission, but with a gulp and after a mental stagger he marched +on. + +"Now give me figgers--tens or hundreds," pleaded the stranger. "I'll +give you the cube in one second--the snap of a finger. Since I see +you hesitate, we'll take sixteen--a very simple factor. Cube it!" +He clacked a bony finger into an osseous palm and cried: "Four +thousand and ninety-six!" + +That did it! + +"Ninety-six," repeated the Cap'n, dizzily; realizing that he had +bounced off the track, he rose, kicked his chair out from under him +and shoved a livid and infuriated visage into the thin man's face. + +"Whang-jacket your gor-righteously imperdence!" he bellowed, "what +do you mean by stickin' that fish-hawk beak of your'n into my business +and make me lose count? Get to Tophet out of here!" + +The stranger calmly removed his ear-pads and gazed on the furious +selectman with cold, gray and critical eyes. + +"Your suggestion as to destination is not well considered," he said. +"There is no hell. There is no heaven. I practically settled that +point the first time I died. The--" + +Cap'n Sproul, without especial attention to this astonishing +announcement, was provoked beyond control by this stranger's +contemptuous stare. He grabbed up an ash-stick that served him for +a stove-poker. + +"Get out of here," he repeated, "or I'll peg you down through this +floor like a spike!" + +But the thin man simply gazed at him mournfully and sat down. + +"Havin' been killed three times--three times--dead by violent +means," he said, "I have no fear of death. Strike me--I shall not +resist." + +Even a bashi-bazouk must have quailed before that amazing +declaration and that patient resignation to fate. Cap'n Sproul +looked him up and down for many minutes and then tucked the smutty +ash-stick under the stove. + +"Well, what insane horsepittle did you get out of by crawlin' through +the keyhole?" he demanded. + +"Oh, I am not insane," remonstrated the thin man. "It is always easy +for fools in this world to blat that insult when a man announces +something that they don't understand. A man that knows enough to be +selectman of Smyrna hadn't ought to be a fool. I hope you are not. +But you mustn't blat like a fool." + +Cap'n Sproul could not seem to frame words just then. + +"The first time I died," pursued his remarkable guest, "I was frozen +to death." He pulled up his trousers and showed a shank as shrunken +as a peg-leg. "All the meat came off. The second time I died, a hoss +kicked me on the head. The third time, a tree fell on me. And there +is no hell--there is no heaven. If there had been I'd have gone to +one place or the other." + +"If I was runnin' either place you wouldn't," said the Cap'n, sourly. + +The thin man crossed his legs and was beginning to speak, but the +first selectman broke in savagely: "Now look here, mister, this ain't +either a morgue, a receivin'-tomb, nor an undertaker's parlor. If +you want to get buried and ain't got the price I'll lend it to you. +If you want to start over again in life I'll pay for havin' your +birth-notice put into the newspaper. But you want to say what you +do want and get out of here. I've got some town business to 'tend +to, and I ain't got any time to spend settin' up with corpses." + +Again the man tried to speak. Again the Cap'n interrupted. "I ain't +disputin' a thing you say," he cried. "I'm admittin' everything, +'cause I haven't got time to argue. You may have been dead nine times +like a cat. I don't care. All is, you go along. You'll find +accommodations at the tavern, the graveyard, or the town farm, +whichever hits you best. I'm busy." + +But when he pulled his paper of figures under his nose again, the +thin man tapped his fleshless digit on the table. + +"You're the first selectman, aren't you?" he demanded. + +"That's what I be," returned the Cap'n, smartly. + +"Well, then, you got to pay attention to town business when it is +put before you. I've come here on town business. I used to live in +this town." + +"Was you buried here or was your remains taken away?" inquired the +Cap'n, genially, hoping that satire might drive out this unwelcome +disturber. + +"Oh, I died all three times after I left this town," said the thin +man, in matter-of-fact tones. "What I'm comin' at is this: my father +gave the land to this town to build the school-house on out in the +Crymble district. Deed said if the building was ever abandoned for +school purposes for five years running, land and buildin' came back +to estate. I came past that school-house to-day and I see it hasn't +been used." + +"We don't have school deestricks any more," explained the Cap'n. "We +transport scholars to the village here. That's been done for six +years and over." + +"Then I claim the school-house and land," declared the thin man. + +"You do, hey?" + +"I do. I've got tired of travellin' round over this world, and I'm +goin' to settle down. And that school-house is the only real estate +I've got to settle down in. I'll keep bach' hall there." + +"Who in thunderation are you, anyway?" demanded Cap'n Sproul, +propping himself on the table and leaning forward belligerently. + +"My name is Dependence Crymble," replied the other, quietly. "My +father was Hope-for-grace Crymble. Odd names, eh? But the Crymbles +were never like other folks." + +Cap'n Sproul sat down hard in his chair and goggled at the thin man. + +"Say, look-here-you," he gasped at last. "There never could be more'n +one name like Dependence Crymble in this world. I ain't a native here +and I don't know you from Adam. But is your wife the Widow Delora +Crymble--I mean, was she--oh, tunk-rabbit it, I reckon I'm gettin' +as crazy as you are!" + +"I'm not insane," persisted the other. "I'm Dependence Crymble, and +I married Delora Goff. I've been away from here twenty years, but +I guess the old residents will recognize me, all right." + +"But," declared the Cap'n, floundering for a mental footing, "it's +always been said to me that Dependence Crymble died off--away +somewhere." + +"I've already told you I died," said the thin man, still mild but +firm. "That's right, just as you've heard it." + +"There's a stone in the graveyard to you," went on the Cap'n, clawing +his stubby fingers into his bristle of hair, "and they've always +called her 'Widder Crymble' and"--he stood up again and leaned +forward over the table in the attitude of Jove about to launch a +thunderbolt and gasped--"she's goin' to get married to Bat Reeves, +Tuesday of next week--and he's the most infernal scalawag in this +town, and he's took her after he's tried about every other old maid +and widder that's got property." + +The thin man did not even wince or look astonished. His querulous +mouth only dropped lower at the corners. + +"I don't care who marries her. She's a widder and can marry any one +she's got a mind to. I didn't come back here to mix in. She's welcome +to the property I left her. There was a will. It's hers. I've been +administered on according to law. All I want is that school-house +back from the town. That's mine by law." + +Cap'n Sproul sat down once more. + +"Well," he said at last, with some indignation, "if you was dead and +wanted to stay dead and leave a widder and property and let her get +married again, and all that--what in the name of the yaller-bellied +skate-fish have ye come ghostin' round here for to tip everything +upside down and galley-west after it's been administered on and +settled? And it gets town business all mixed up!" + +The thin man smiled a wistful smile. + +"The poet says: 'Where'er we roam, the sky beneath, the heart sighs +for its native heath.' That's the sentiment side of it. But there's +a practical side. There's the school-house. It was worth passing this +way to find out whether the town had abandoned it--and I reckoned +it had, and I reckoned right. I have presentiments that come true. +I reckoned that probably the relict would put a stone in the graveyard +for me. I have a presentiment that I shall die twice more, staying +dead the fifth time I pass away. That will be here in this town, and +the gravestone won't be wasted." + +While the first selectman was still trying to digest this, the thin +man opened his valise. He took out a nickel plate that bore his name. + +"This is my casket-plate," he explained, forcing the grisly object +into the resisting hands of the Cap'n. "Friends ordered it for me +the first time I died. I've carried it with me ever since." + +"It must be a nice way of passin' a rainy Sunday," said the Cap'n, +sarcastically, pushing the plate back across the table; "set and look +at that and hum a pennyr'yal hymn! It's sartinly a rollickin' life +you're leadin', Mister Crymble." + +Mr. Crymble did not retort. On the contrary he asked, mildly, gazing +on the scattered sheets of paper containing the selectman's efforts +at town-report composition, "Do you write poetry, sir?" + +"Not by a--by a--" gasped the Cap'n, seeking ineffectually for some +phrase to express his ineffable disgust. + +"I was in hopes you did," continued Mr. Crymble, "for I would like +a little help in finishing my epitaph. I compose slowly. I have worked +several years on this epitaph, but I haven't finished it to suit me. +What I have got done reads": + +He unfolded a dirty strip of paper and recited: + + "There is no sting in death; + Below this stone there lies + A man who lost his mortal breath + Three times--" + +Mr. Crymble looked up from the paper. + +"I have thought of 'And death defies.' But that might sound like +boasting." + +"End it up, 'And still he lies,'" growled Cap'n Sproul. But the thin +man meekly evaded the sarcasm. + +"That would be a repetition of the rhyme," he objected. "I see you +were right when you said you did not write poetry." + +"P'r'aps I ain't no poet," cried the Cap'n, bridling. "But I'm the +first selectman of this town, and I've got considerable to do with +runnin' it and keepin' things straightened out. You may be dead, but +you ain't buried yet. I've got two errunts for you. You go hunt up +Bat Reeves and tell him that the weddin' next Tuesday is all off, +and for good reasons--and that you're one of the reasons, and that +there are nine others just as good but which you haven't got time +to repeat. Then you go home to your wife and settle down, throw away +that coffin-plate, tear up that epitaph, and stop this dyin' habit. +It's a bad one to get into." + +"I won't do any such thing," returned the prodigal, stubbornly. "I +lived fifteen years with a woman that wouldn't let me smoke, busted +my cider jug in the cellar, jawed me from sun-up till bedtime, hid +my best clothes away from me like I was ten years old, wouldn't let +me pipe water from the spring, and stuck a jeroosly water-pail under +my nose every time I showed in sight of the house. I haven't died +three times, all by violent means, not to stay dead so far's she's +concerned. Now you tell me where to get the key to that school-house +and I'll move in." + +For the first time in their conversation Mr. Crymble dropped his meek +manner. His little eyes blazed. His drooping mouth snarled and his +yellow teeth showed defiantly. Cap'n Sproul always welcomed defiance. +It was the thin man's passive resignation at the beginning of their +acquaintance that caused the Cap'n to poke the ash-stick back under +the stove. Now he buttoned his pea-jacket, pulled his hat down firmly, +and spat first into one fist and then the other. + +"You can walk, Crymble, if you're a mind to and will go quiet," he +announced, measuring the other's gaunt frame with contemptuous eye. +"I'd rather for your sake that the citizens would see you walkin' +up there like a man. But if you won't walk, then I'll pick you up +and stick you behind my ear like a lead-pencil and take you there." + +"Where?" + +"To your house. Where else should a husband be goin' that's been +gallivantin' off for twenty years?" + +And detecting further recalcitrancy in the face of his visitor, he +pounced on him, scrabbled up a handful of cloth in the back of his +coat, and propelled him out of doors and up the street. After a few +protesting squawks Mr. Crymble went along. + +An interested group of men, who had bolted out of Broadway's store, +surveyed them as they passed at a brisk pace. + +"By the sacred codfish!" bawled Broadway, "if that ain't Dep Crymble! +How be ye, Dep?" + +Mr. Crymble lacked either breath or amiability. He did not reply to +the friendly greeting. Cap'n Sproul did that for him enigmatically. +"He's back from paradise on his third furlough," he cried. + +"And bound to hell," mourned Mr. Crymble, stumbling along before the +thrust of the fist at his back. + + + + +XXVI + + +The Crymble place was a full half mile outside the village of Smyrna, +but Cap'n Sproul and his victim covered the distance at a lively pace +and swung into the yard at a dog-trot. Batson Reeves was just +blanketing his horse, for in his vigorous courtship forenoon calls +figured regularly. + +"My Gawd!" he gulped, fronting the Cap'n and staring at his captive +with popping eyes, "I knowed ye had a turrible grudge agin' me, Sproul, +but I didn't s'pose you'd go to op'nin' graves to carry out your spite +and bust my plans." + +"He didn't happen to be anchored," retorted the Cap'n, with cutting +reference to the granite statue in Smyrna's cemetery. "Ahoy, the +house, there!" + +Mrs. Crymble had been hastening to the door, the sound of her suitor's +wagon-wheels summoning her. A glimpse of the tall figure in the yard, +secured past the leaves of the window geraniums, brought her out on +the run. + +Mrs. Delora Crymble, whose natural stock of self-reliance had been +largely improved by twenty years of grass-widowhood, was not easily +unnerved. + +But she staggered when searching scrutiny confirmed the dreadful +suspicion of that first glimpse through the geraniums. For +precaution's sake Cap'n Sproul still held Mr. Crymble by the +scrabbled cloth in the back of his coat, and that despairing +individual dangled like a manikin. But he braced his thin legs +stubbornly when the Cap'n tried to push him toward the porch. + +"If married couples are goin' to act like this on judgment mornin'," +muttered the mediator, "it will kind o' take the edge off'm the +festivities. Say, you two people, why don't you hoorah a few times +and rush up and hug and kiss and live happy ever after?" + +But as soon as Mrs. Crymble could get her thin lips nipped together +and her hands on her hips she pulled herself into her accustomed +self-reliant poise. + +"It's you, is it, you straddled-legged, whittled-to-a-pick-ed +northin' of a clothes-pin, you? You've sneaked back to sponge on me +in your old age after runnin' off and leavin' me with a run-down farm +and mortgidge! After sendin' me a marked copy of a paper with your +death-notice, and after your will was executed on and I wore mournin' +two years and saved money out of hen profits to set a stun' in the +graveyard for you! You mis'sable, lyin' 'whelp o' Satan!" + +"There wa'n't no lie to it," said Mr. Crymble, doggedly. "I did die. +I died three times--all by violent means. First time I froze to death, +second--" + +"Let up on that!" growled the Cap'n, vigorously shaking Mr. Crymble. +"This ain't no dime-novel rehearsal. It's time to talk business!" + +"You bet it's time to talk business!" affirmed the "widow." "I've +paid off the mortgidge on this place by hard, bone labor, and it's +willed to me and the will's executed, and now that you've been proved +dead by law, by swanny I'll make you prove you're alive by law before +you can set foot into this house." + +"And I'll go and buy the law for you!" cried Batson Reeves, stripping +the blanket off his horse. "I'll drive straight to my brother +Alcander's law office, and he'll find law so that a hard-workin' +woman can't be robbed of her own." + +"Oh, he'll find it, all right!" agreed the Cap'n, sarcastically. "And +if he don't find it ready-made he'll gum together a hunk to fit the +case. But in the mean time, here's a man--" he checked himself and +swung Mr. Crymble's hatchet face close to his own. "How much money +have you got?" he demanded. "Have you come back here strapped?" + +"I ain't got any money," admitted Mr. Crymble, "but I own a secret +how to cure stutterin' in ten lessons, and with that school-house +that--" + +"You don't dock in any school-house nor you don't marine railway into +our poorhouse, not to be a bill of expense whilst I'm first +selectman," broke in Cap'n Sproul with decision. "That's official, +and I've got a license to say it." + +"You think you've got a license to stick your nose into the business +of every one in this town because you're first selectman," roared +Reeves, whipping out of the yard; "but I'll get a pair of nippers +onto that old nose this time." + +"Here's your home till further orders," said the Cap'n, disregarding +the threat, "and into it you're goin'." + +He started Mr. Crymble toward the steps. + +Mrs. Crymble was pretty quick with the door, but Cap'n Sproul was +at the threshold just in time to shove the broad toe of his boot +between door and jamb. His elbows and shoulders did the rest, and +he backed in, dragging Mr. Crymble, and paid no attention whatever +to a half-dozen vigorous cuffs that Mrs. Crymble dealt him from +behind. He doubled Mr. Crymble unceremoniously into a calico-covered +rocking-chair, whipped off the hard hat and hung it up, and took from +Mr. Crymble's resisting hands the little valise that he had clung +to with grim resolution. + +"Now, said Cap'n Sproul, you are back once more in your happy home +after wanderin's in strange lands. As first selectman of this town +I congratulate you on gettin' home, and extend the compliments of +the season." He briskly shook Mr. Crymble's limp hand--a palm as +unresponsive as the tail of a dead fish. "Now," continued the Cap'n, +dropping his assumed geniality, "you stay here where I've put you. +If I catch you off'm these primises I'll bat your old ears and have +you arrested for a tramp. You ain't northin' else, when it comes to +law. I'm a hard man when I'm madded, Crymble, and if I start in to +keelhaul you for disobeyin' orders you'll--" The Cap'n did not +complete the sentence, but he bent such a look on the man in the chair +that he trembled through all his frail length. + +"I wisht I could have stayed dead," whimpered Mr. Crymble, thoroughly +spirit-broken. + +"It might have been better all around," agreed the Cap'n, cheerfully. +"But I ain't no undertaker. I'm a town official, sworn to see that +paupers ain't poked off onto the taxpayers. And if you want to keep +out of some pretty serious legal trouble, Mis' Crymble, you'll mind +your p's and q's--and you know what I mean!" + +Feeling a little ignorant of just what the law was in the case, Cap'n +Sproul chose to make his directions vague and his facial expression +unmistakable, and he backed out, bending impartial and baleful stare +on the miserable couple. + +When he got back to the town office he pen-printed a sign, "Keep Out," +tacked it upon the outer door, set the end of his long table against +the door for a barricade, and fell to undisturbed work on the figures. +And having made such progress during the day that his mind was free +for other matters in the evening, he trudged over to Neighbor Hiram +Look's to smoke with the ex-showman and detail to that wondering +listener the astonishing death-claims of the returned Mr. Crymble. + +"Grampy Long-legs, there, may think he's dead and may say he's dead," +remarked Hiram, grimly, "but it looks to me as though Bat Reeves was +the dead one in this case. He's lost the widder." + +Cap'n Sproul turned luminous gaze of full appreciation on his friend. + +"Hiram," he said, "we've broke up a good many courtships for Reeves, +you and me have, but, speakin' frankly, I'd have liked to see him +get that Crymble woman. If she ain't blood kin to the general manager +of Tophet, then I'm all off in pedigree, I don't blame Crymble for +dyin' three times to make sure that she was a widder. If it wasn't +for administerin' town business right I'd have got him a spider-web +and let him sail away on it. As it is, I reckon I've scared him about +twenty-four hours' worth. He'll stick there in torment for near that +time. But about noon to-morrow he'll get away unless I scare him again +or ball-and-chain him with a thread and a buckshot." + +"I'm interested in freaks," said Hiram, "and I'll take this case off +your hands and see that the livin' skeleton don't get away until we +decide to bury him or put him in a show where he can earn an honest +livin'. Skeletons ain't what they used to be for a drawin'-card, but +I know of two or three punkin circuiters that might take him on." + +In view of that still looming incubus of the unfinished town report, +Cap'n Sproul accepted Hiram's offer with alacrity. + +"It ain't that I care so much about the critter himself," he confided, +"but Bat Reeves has got his oar in the case, and by to-morrow the +whole town will be watchin' to see which gets the upper hands." + +"I'll camp there," promised Hiram, "and I don't reckon they can do +old dead-and-alive to any great extent whilst I've got my eye on 'em." + +Cap'n Sproul barricaded his door again the next day and disregarded +ordinary summons at the portal. But along in the afternoon came one +who, after knocking vainly, began to batter with fists and feet, and +when the first selectman finally tore open the door with full +determination to kick this persistent disturber off the steps, he +found Hiram Look there. And Hiram Look came in and thumped himself +into a chair with no very clearly defined look of triumph on his face. + +"He ain't dead again, is he?" demanded Cap'n Sproul, apprehensively. + +"No, he ain't, and that's where he loses," replied the old showman. +He chafed his blue nose and thumped his feet on the floor to warm +them. It was plain that he had been long exposed to the December wind. + +"Law," announced Hiram, "has got more wrinkles in it than there are +in a fake mermaid's tail. Do you know what kind of a game they've +gone to work and rigged up on your friend, the human curling-tongs? +The widder has got him to doin' chores again. It seems that she was +always strong on keepin' him doin' chores. He's peckin' away at that +pile of wood that's fitted and lays at the corner of the barn. He's +luggin' it into the woodshed, and three sticks at a time make his +legs bend like corset whalebones. Looks like he's got a good stiddy +job for all winter--and every once in a while she comes out and yaps +at him to prod him up." + +"Well, that gets him taken care of, all right," said the Cap'n, with +a sigh of relief. + +"Yes, he's taken care of," remarked Hiram, dryly. "But you don't +understand the thing yet, Cap'n. On top of that woodpile sets Bat +Reeves, lappin' the end of a lead-pencil and markin' down every time +old water-skipper there makes a trip." + +"Well, if it amuses him, it takes care of him, too," said the Cap'n. + +"Looks innercent, childlike, and sociable, hey?" inquired the +showman, sarcastically. "Well, you just listen to what I've dug up +about that. Bat Reeves has bought the strip of ground between the +woodpile and the shed door by some kind of a deal he's rigged up with +the widder, and with Alcander Reeves advisin' as counsel. And he's +got a stake set in the middle of that piece of ground and on that +stake is a board and on that board is painted: 'Trespassing Forbidden +on Penalty of the Law.' And him and that woman, by Alcander Reeves's +advice, are teaming that old cuss of a husband back and forth acrost +that strip and markin' down a trespass offence every time he lugs +an armful of wood." + +The Cap'n blinked his growing amazement. + +"And the scheme is," continued Hiram, "to have old law shark of an +Alcander, as trial justice, sentence the livin' skeleton on each +separate trespass offence, fine and imprisonment in default of +payment. Why, they've got enough chalked down against him now to make +up a hundred years' sentence, and he's travellin' back and forth +there as innercent of what they're tryin' to do as is the babe +unborn." + +"Can they do any such infernal thing as that in law?" demanded the +Cap'n. + +"Blamed if I know. But I never see northin' yet they couldn't do in +law, if they see you comin' and got the bind on you." + +"Law!" roared Cap'n Sproul, clacking his hard fist on the table rim. +"Law will tie more knots in a man's business than a whale can tie +in a harpoon-line. There ain't no justice in it--only pickin's and +stealin's. Why, I had a mate once that was downed on T wharf in Bos'n +and robbed, and they caught the men, and the mate couldn't give +witness bonds and they locked him up with 'em, and the men got away +one night and wa'n't ever caught, and the result was the mate served +a jail sentence before they got his bonds matter fixed. It was just +the same as a jail sentence. He had to stay there." + +Hiram was fully as doleful in regard to the possibilities of the law. + +"Once they get old Soup-bone behind bars on them trespass cases," +he said, "he'll stay there, all right. They'll fix it somehow--you +needn't worry. I reckon they'll be arrestin' him any minute now. +They've got cases enough marked down." + +"We'll see about that," snapped the Cap'n. + +He buttoned his jacket and hurried into Hiram's team, which was at +the door. And with Hiram as charioteer they made time toward the +Crymble place. Just out of the village they swept past Constable +Zeburee Nute, whose slower Dobbin respectfully took the side of the +highway. + +"Bet ye money to mushmelons," mumbled Hiram as they passed, "he's +got a warrant from old Alcander and is on his way to arrest." + +"I know he is," affirmed the Cap'n. "Every time he sticks that old +tin badge on the outside of his coat he's on the war-path. Whip up, +Hiram!" + +From afar they spied the tall figure of Dependence Crymble passing +wraithlike to and fro across the yard. + +"Thirty days per sashay!" grunted Hiram. "That's the way they figger +it." + +Batson Reeves would have scrambled down from the top of the woodpile +when he saw Cap'n Sproul halt Crymble in his weary labor and draw +him to one side. But Hiram suggested to Mr. Reeves that he better +stay up, and emphasized the suggestion by clutching a stick of +stove-wood in each hand. + +"Crymble," huskily whispered the Cap'n, "I put ye here out of a good +meanin'--meanin' to keep ye out of trouble. But I'm afraid I've got +ye into it." + +"I told ye what she was and all about it," complained Mr. Crymble, +bitterly. + +"It ain't 'she,' it's--it's--" The Cap'n saw the bobbing head of +Nute's Dobbin heaving into sight around distant alders. "All is, you +needn't stay where I put ye." + +Mr. Crymble promptly dropped the three sticks of wood that he was +carrying. + +"But I don't want you to get too far off till I think this thing over +a little," resumed the Cap'n. "There ain't no time now. You ought +to know this old farm of your'n pretty well. You just go find a hole +and crawl into it for a while." + +"I'll do it," declared Mr. Crymble, with alacrity. "I knew you'd find +her out. Now that you're with me, I'm with you. I'll hide. You fix +'em. 'Tend to her first." He grabbed the Cap'n by the arm. "There's +a secret about that barnyard that no one knows but me. Blind his +eyes!" + +He pointed to Mr. Reeves. There was no time to delve into Mr. +Crymble's motives just then. There was just time to act. The blank +wall of the ell shut off Mrs. Crymble's view of the scene. Constable +Nute was still well down the road. There was only the basilisk Mr. +Reeves on the woodpile. Cap'n Sproul grabbed up a quilt spread to +air behind the ell, and with a word to Hiram as he passed him he +scrambled up the heap of wood. Hiram followed, and the next moment +they had hoodwinked the amazed Mr. Reeves and held him bagged +securely in the quilt. + +The Cap'n, with chin over his shoulder, saw Mr. Crymble scuff aside +some frozen dirt in a corner of the barnyard, raise a plank with his +bony fingers and insert his slender figure into the crevice disclosed, +with all the suppleness of a snake. The plank dropped over his head, +and his hiding-place was hidden. But while he and Hiram stood looking +at the place where Mr. Crymble had disappeared, there sounded a +muffled squawk from the depths, there was the dull rumble of rocks, +an inward crumbling of earth where the planks were, a puff of dust, +and stillness. + +"Gawd A'mighty!" blurted Hiram, aghast, "a dry well's caved in on +him." + +"I told him to find a hole and crawl into it," quavered the Cap'n, +fiddling trembling finger under his nose, "but I didn't tell him to +pull the hole in after him." + +Mr. Reeves, left free to extricate himself from the quilt, bellowed +to Mrs. Crymble and addressed the astonished Nute, who just then +swung into the yard. + +"They murdered that man, and I see 'em do it!" he squalled, and added, +irrelevantly, "they covered my head up so I couldn't see 'em do it." + +Mrs. Crymble, who had been dignifiedly keeping the castle till the +arrival of the constable, swooped upon the scene with hawk-like +swiftness. + +"This day's work will cost you a pretty penny, Messers Look and +Sproul," she shrilled. "Killin' a woman's husband ain't to be settled +with salve, a sorry, and a dollar bill, Messers Sproul and Look." + +"I reckon we're messers, all right," murmured the Cap'n, gazing +gloomily on the scene of the involuntary entombment of the +three-times-dead Crymble. "I couldn't prove that he was ever dead +in his life, but there's one thing I've seen with my own eyes. He +acted as his own sexton, and that's almost as unbelievable as a man's +comin' back to life again." + +"I ain't lookin' for him to come back this last time," remarked Hiram, +with much conviction; "unless there's an inch drain-pipe there and +he comes up it like an angleworm. Looks from this side of the surface +as though death, funeral service, interment, and mournin' was all +over in record time and without music or flowers." + +Batson Reeves brought the crowd. + +It was plainly one of the opportunities of his life. + +The word that he circulated, as he rattled down to Broadway's store +and back, was that Cap'n Sproul and Hiram Look had attacked him with +murderous intent, and that after he had bravely fought them off they +had wantonly grabbed Mr. Dependence Crymble, jabbed him down a hole +in the ground and kicked the hole in on him. + +"I've always vowed and declared they was both lunatics," cried the +returning Mr. Reeves. He darted accusatory finger at the +disconsolate pair where they stood gazing down upon the place of +Crymble's sepulture. "They was hatchin' a plot and I busted it, and +now this is what they've done for revenge. And I'll leave it to Mis' +Crymble herself, who stands there and who saw it all." + +Mrs. Crymble was in a state of mind to take the cue promptly, and +affirmed the charge with an inspirational wealth of detail and a +ferocity of shrill accusation that took effect on the crowd in spite +of the lack of logic. In moments of excitement crowds are not +discriminating. The Cap'n and Hiram gazed with some uneasiness on +the lowering faces. + +"They beat his brains out, gents," she screamed--"beat the brains +out of the husband that had just come home to me after roamin' the +wide world over. Hang 'em, I say! And I'll soap the clothes-line if +you'll do it!" + +"Ain't she a hell-cat, though!" muttered Hiram. + +"When I think of what I was tryin' to make that poor critter do," +said Cap'n' Sproul, absent-mindedly kicking a loosened clod into the +hole, "I'm ashamed of myself. I reckon he's better off down there +than up here. I don't wish him back." + +"If accused wish to say anything in their own defence it will be +heard," declaimed Squire Alcander, advancing from the gathering +throng. "Otherwise, Constable Nute will--" + +"Constable Nute will keep his distance from me," roared Cap'n Sproul, +"or he'll get his everlastin' come-uppance. I can stand a certain +amount of dum foolishness, and I serve notice that I've had full +amount served out. Now you loafers standin' round gawpin, you grab +anything that will scoop dirt and get to work diggin' here." + +"I don't propose to have no bill of expense run up on me," announced +Mrs. Crymble, "I've paid out for him all I'm goin' to, and I got done +long ago." + +"Bereaved and lovin' widder heard, neighbors and friends," said the +Cap'n, significantly. "Now go ahead, people, and believe what she +says about us, if you want to! Get to work here." + +"You sha'n't stir a shovelful of that dirt," declared Mrs. Crymble. +"You'll claim day's wages, every one of you." + +"Wages is cheaper in Chiny," said the Cap'n satirically. "You can +cable round and have him dug out from that side if you want to. But +I'm tellin' you right here and now that he's goin' to be dug out from +one side or the other." + +"He's dead and he's buried, ain't he?" demanded Reeves, rallying to +the support of the widow. "What more is there to do?" + +"Go down to the graveyard and get that stone of his and set it here," +replied Cap'n Sproul, with bitter sarcasm. "Go somewhere to get out +of my way here, for if you or any other human polecat, male or +female"--he directed withering glance at Mrs. Crymble--"gets in my +way whilst I'm doin' what's to be done, if we ain't heathen, I'll +split 'em down with this barn shovel." He had secured the implement +and tossed out the first shovelful. + +There were plenty of willing volunteers. They paid no attention to +the widow's reproaches. All who could, toiled with shovels. Others +lifted the dirt in buckets. At the end of half an hour Cap'n Sproul, +who was deepest in the hole, uttered a sharp exclamation. + +"By the mud-hoofed mackinaw!" he shouted, waving his shovel to +command silence, "if he ain't alive again after bein' killed the +fourth time!" + +Below there was a muffled "tunk-tunk-tunk!" It was plainly the sound +of two rocks clacking together. It was appealing signal. + +Ten minutes later, furious digging brought the rescuers to a flat +rock, part of the stoning of the caved-in well. In its fall it had +lodged upon soil and rocks, and when it was raised, gingerly and +slowly, they found that, below in the cavern it had preserved, there +sat Mr. Crymble, up to his shoulders in dirt. + +"If some gent will kindly pass me a chaw of tobacker," he said, +wistfully, "it will kind of keep up my strength and courage till the +rest of me is dug up." + +When he had been lifted at last to the edge of the well he turned +dull eyes of resentment on Mrs. Crymble. + +"I wish there'd been a hole clear through to the Sandwich Isle or +any other heathen country," he said, sourly. "I'd have crawled there +through lakes of fire and seas of blood." + +She lifted her voice to vituperate, but his last clinch with death +seemed to have given Mr. Crymble a new sense of power and +self-reliance. He hopped up, gathered a handful of rocks and made +at his Xantippe. His aim was not too good and he did not hit her, +but he stood for several minutes and soulfully bombarded the door +that she slammed behind her in her flight. + +Then he came back and gathered more rocks from the scene of his recent +burial. He propped his thin legs apart, brandished a sizable missile, +and squalled defiance. + +"I've just died for the fourth time--killed by a well cavin' in on +me. There ain't no hell where I've been. And if there's any man here +that thinks he can shove me back into this hell on earth"--he shook +his fist at the house and singled Cap'n Sproul with flaming eye--"now +is the time for him to try to do it." + +"There ain't nobody goin' to try to do it," said the Cap'n, coming +up to him with frankly outstretched hand. He patted the rocks gently +from the arms of the indignant Mr. Crymble. "As a gen'ral thing I +stand up for matrimony and stand up for it firm--but I reckon I didn't +understand your case, Crymble. I apologize, and we'll shake hands +on it. You can have the school-house, and I'll do more'n that--I'll +pay for fixin' it over. And in the mean time you come up to my house +and make me a good long visit." + +He shoved ingratiating hand into the hook of the other's bony elbow +and led him away. + +"But I want my valise," pleaded Mr. Crymble. + +"You leave that coffin-plate and epitaph with her," said the Cap'n, +firmly. "You're in for a good old age and don't need 'em. And they +may cheer up Mis' Crymble from time to time. She needs cheerin' up." + +Hiram Look, following them out of the yard, yanked up the trespass +sign and advanced to Batson Reeves and brandished it over his head. + +"Gimme it!" he rasped. + +"What?" quavered Reeves. + +"That paper I stood here and watched you makin' up. Gimme it, or I'll +peg you like I peg tent-pegs for the big tent." + +And Reeves, having excellent ideas of discretion, passed over the +list of trespasses. He did not look up at the windows of the Crymble +house as he rode away with his brother, the squire. And what was +significant, he took away with him the neck-halter that, for +convenience' sake on his frequent calls, he had left hanging to the +hitching-post in the Crymble yard for many weeks. + + + + +XXVII + + +At last the Women's Temperance Workers' Union of Smyrna became +thoroughly indignant, in addition to being somewhat mystified. + +Twice they had "waited on" Landlord Ferd Parrott, of the Smyrna +tavern--twelve of them in a stern delegation--and he had simply +blinked at them out of his puckery eyes, and pawed nervously at his +weazened face, and had given them no satisfaction. + +Twice they had marched bravely into the town office and had faced +Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman, and had complained that Ferd +Parrott was running "a reg'lar rum-hole." Cap'n Sproul had nipped +his bristly beard and gazed away from them at the ceiling, and said +he would see what could be done about it. + +Mrs. Aaron Sproul, a devoted member of the W.T.W.'s, was appointed +a committee of one to sound him, and found him, even in the sweet +privacy of home, so singularly embarrassed and uncommunicative that +her affectionate heart was disturbed and grieved. + +Then came Constable Zeburee Nute into the presence of the town's +chief executive with a complaint. + +"They're gittin' worse'n hornicks round me," he whined, "them +Double-yer T. Double-yers. Want Ferd's place raided for licker. But +I understood you to tell me--" + +"I hain't told you northin' about it!" roared the Cap'n, with mighty +clap of open palm on the town ledger. + +"Well, you hain't give off orders to raid, seize and diskiver, libel +and destroy," complained the officer. + +"What be you, a 'tomatom that don't move till you pull a string, or +be you an officer that's supposed to know his own duty clear, and +follow it?" demanded the first selectman. + +"Constables is supposed to take orders from them that's above 'em," +declared Mr. Nute. "I'm lookin' to you, and the Double-yer T. +Double-yers is lookin' to you." + +"Well, if it's botherin' your eyesight, you'd better look t'other +way," growled the Cap'n. + +"Be I goin' to raid or ain't I goin' to raid?" demanded Constable +Nute. "It's for you to say!" + +"Look here, Nute," said the Cap'n, rising and aiming his forefinger +at the constable's nose as he would have levelled a bulldog revolver, +"if you and them wimmen think you're goin' to use me as a pie-fork +to lift hot dishes out of an oven that they've heated, you'd better +leave go--that's all I've got to say." + +"You might just as well know it's makin' talk," ventured the +constable, taking a safer position near the door. A queer sort of +embarrassment that he noted in the Cap'n's visage emboldened him. +"You know just as well as I do that Ferd Parrott has gone and took +to sellin' licker. Old Branscomb is goin' home tea-ed up reg'lar, +and Al Leavitt and Pud Follansby and a half a dozen others are settin' +there all times of night, playin' cards and makin' a reg'lar ha'nt +of it. If Ferd ain't shet up it will be said"--the constable looked +into the snapping eyes of the first selectman and halted +apprehensively. + +"It ain't that I believe any such thing, Cap'n Sproul," he declared +at last, breaking an embarrassing silence. "But here's them wimmen +takin' up them San Francisco scandals to study in their Current +Events Club, and when the officers here don't act when complaint is +made about a hell-hole right here in town, talk starts, and it ain't +complimentary talk, either. Pers'n'ly, I feel like a tiger strainin' +at his chain, and I'd like orders to go ahead." + +"Tiger, hey?" remarked the Cap'n, looking him up and down. "I knowed +you reminded me of something, but I didn't know what, before. Now, +if them wimmen--" he began with decision, but broke off to stare +through the town-office window. Mr. Nute stepped from the door to +take observation, too. + +Twelve women in single file were picking their way across the mushy +street piled with soft March snow. + +"Reckon the Double-yer T. Double-yers is goin' to wait on Ferd ag'in +to give him his final come-uppance," suggested the constable. "Heard +some talk of it yistiddy." + +The Smyrna tavern into which they disappeared was a huge hulk, relic +of the old days when the stage-coaches made the village their +headquarters. The storms of years had washed the paint from it; it +had "hogged" in the roof where the great square chimney projected +its nicked bulk from among loosened bricks scattered on the shingles; +and from knife-gnawed "deacon-seat" on the porch to window-blind, +dangling from one hinge on the broad gable, the old structure was +seedy indeed. + +"I kind of pity Ferd," mumbled the constable, his faded eyes on the +cracked door that the last woman had slammed behind her. "Hain't +averaged to put up one man a week for five years, and I reckon he's +had to sell rum or starve." + +Cap'n Sproul made no observation. He still maintained that air of +not caring to discuss the affairs of the Smyrna tavern. He stared +at the building as though he rather expected to see the sides tumble +out or the roof fly up, or something of the sort. + +He did not bestow any especial attention on his friend Hiram Look +when the ex-circus man drove up to the hitching-post in front of the +town house with a fine flourish, hitched and came in. + +"Seems that your wife and mine have gone temperancin' again to-day +with the bunch," remarked Hiram, relighting his cigar. "I don't know +what difference it makes whether old Branscomb and the other soshes +round here get their ruin in an express-package or help Ferd to a +little business. They're bound to have it, anyway." + +"That ain't the p'int," protested Constable Nute, stiffly, throwing +back his coat to display his badge. "Ferd Parrott's breakin' the law, +and it hurts my feelin's as an officer to hear town magnates and +reprusentative citizens glossin' it over for him." + +The Cap'n stared at him balefully but did not trust himself to retort. +Hiram was not so cautious. He bridled instantly and insolently. + +"There's always some folks in this world ready to stick their noses +into the door-crack of a man's business when they know the man ain't +got strength to slam the door shut on 'em. Wimmen's clubs is all right +so long as they stick to readin' hist'ry and discussin' tattin', but +when they flock like a lot of old hen turkeys and go to peckin' a +man because he's down and can't help himself, it ain't anything but +persecution--wolves turnin' on another one that's got his leg broke. +I know animiles, and I know human critters. Them wimmen better be +in other business, and I told my wife so this mornin'." + +"So did I," said Cap'n Sproul, gloomily. + +"And mine up at me like a settin' hen." + +"So did mine," assented the Cap'n. + +"Gave me a lecture on duties of man to feller man." + +"Jest the same to my house." + +"Have any idea who's been stuffin' their heads with them notions?" +inquired Hiram, malevolently. + +"Remember that square-cornered female with a face harder'n the +physog of a wooden figurehead that was here last winter, and took +'em aloft and told 'em how to reef parli'ment'ry law, and all such?" +asked the Cap'n. "Well, she was the one." + +"You mind my word," cried Hiram, vibrating his cigar, "when a wife +begins to take orders from an old maid in frosted specs instead of +from her own husband, then the moths is gettin' ready to eat the +worsted out of the cardboard in the motto 'God bless our home!'" + +"Law is law," broke in the unabashed representative of it, "and if +the men-folks of this town ain't got the gumption to stand behind +an officer--" + +"Look here, Nute," gritted the Cap'n, "I'll stand behind you in about +two seconds, and I'll be standin' on one foot, at that! Don't you +go to castin' slurs on your betters. Because I've stood some talk +from you to-day isn't any sign that I'm goin' to stand any more." + +Now the first selectman had the old familiar glint in his eyes, and +Mr. Nute sat down meekly, returning no answer to the Cap'n's +sarcastic inquiry why he wasn't over at the tavern acting as convoy +for the Temperance Workers. + +Two minutes later some one came stamping along the corridor of the +town house. The office door was ajar, and this some one pushed it +open with his foot. + +It was Landlord Ferd Parrott. In one hand he carried an old glazed +valise, in the other a canvas extension-case, this reduplication of +baggage indicating a serious intention on the part of Mr. Parrott +to travel far and remain long. His visage was sullen and the set of +his jaws was ugly. Mr. Parrott had eyes that turned out from his nose, +and though the Cap'n and Hiram were on opposite sides of the room +it seemed as though his peculiar vision enabled him to fix an eye +on each at the same time. + +"I'm glad I found you here both together," he snarled. "I can tell +you both at one whack. I ain't got northin' against you. You've used +me like gents. I don't mean to dump you, nor northin' of the sort, +but there ain't anything I can seem to do. You take what there +is--this here is all that belongs to me." He shook the valises at +them. "I'm goin' to git out of this God-forsaken town--I'm goin' now, +and I'm goin' strong, and you're welcome to all I leave, just as I +leave it. For the first time in my life I'm glad I'm a widderer." + +After gazing at Mr. Parrott for a little time the Cap'n and Hiram +searched each the other's face with much interest. It was apparent +that perfect confidence did not exist between them on some matters +that were to the fore just then. + +"Yours," said Mr. Parrott, jerking a stiff nod to the Cap'n, "is a +morgidge on house and stable and land. Yours," he continued, with +another nod at Hiram, "is a bill o' sale of all the furniture, dishes, +liv'ry critters and stable outfit. Take it all and git what you can +out of it." + +"This ain't no way to do--skip out like this," objected Hiram. + +"Well, it's _my_ way," replied Mr. Parrott, stubbornly, "and, seein' +that you've got security and all there is, I don't believe you can +stop me." + +Mr. Parrott dropped his valises and whacked his fists together. + +"If the citizens of this place don't want a hotel they needn't have +a hotel," he shrilled. "If they want to turn wimmen loose on me to +run me up a tree, by hossomy! I'll pull the tree up after me." + +"Look here, Ferd," said the Cap'n, eagerly, forgetting for the moment +the presence of Constable Nute, "those wimmen might gabble a little +at you and make threats and things like that--but--but--there isn't +anything they can do, you understand!" He winked at Mr. Parrott. "You +know what I told you!" + +But Mr. Parrott was in no way swayed or mollified. + +"They _can't'_ do anything, can't they?" he squealed. "They've been +into my house and knocked in the head of a keg of Medford rum, and +busted three demijohns of whiskey, and got old Branscomb to sign the +pledge, and scared off the rest of the boys. Now they're goin' to +hire a pung, and a delegation of three is goin' to meet every train +with badges on and tell every arrivin' guest that the Smyrna tavern +is a nasty, wicked place, and old Aunt Juliet Gifford and her two +old-maid girls are goin' to put up all parties at half-price. They +_can't_ do anything, hey! them wimmen can't? Well, that's what +they've done to date--and if the married men of this place can't keep +their wives to home and their noses out of my business, then Smyrna +can get along without a tavern. I'm done, I say. It's all yours." +Mr. Parrott tossed his open palms toward them in token of utter +surrender, and picked up his valises. + +"You can't shove that off onto us that way," roared Hiram. + +"Well, your money is there, and you can go take it or leave it," +retorted the desperate Mr. Parrott. "You'd better git your money +where you can git it, seein' that you can't very well git it out of +my hide." And the retiring landlord of Smyrna tavern stormed out and +plodded away down the mushy highway. + +Constable Nute gazed after him through the window, and then surveyed +the first selectman and Hiram with fresh and constantly increasing +interest. His tufty eyebrows crawled like caterpillars, indicating +that the thoughts under them must be of a decidedly stirring nature. + +"Huh! That's it, is it?" he muttered, and noting that Cap'n Sproul +seemed to be recovering his self-possession, he preferred not to wait +for the threats and extorted pledge that his natural craftiness +scented. He dove out. + +"Where be ye goin' to?" demanded Hiram, checking the savage rush of +the Cap'n. + +"Catch him and make him shet his chops about this, if I have to spike +his old jaws together." + +"It ain't no use," said Hiram, gloomily, setting his shoulders +against the door. "You'd only be makin' a show and spectacle in front +of the wimmen. And after that they'd squat the whole thing out of +him, the same as you'd squat stewed punkin through a sieve." He bored +the Cap'n with inquiring eye. "You wasn't tellin' me that you held +a morgidge on that tavern real estate." There was reproach in his +tones. + +"No, and you wasn't tellin' me that you had a bill of sale of the +fixin's and furniture," replied the Cap'n with acerbity. "How much +did you let him have?" + +"Fifteen hunderd," said Hiram, rather shamefacedly, but he perked +up a bit when he added: "There's three pretty fair hoss-kind." + +"If there's anything about that place that's spavined any worse'n +them hosses it's the bedsteads," snorted the other capitalist. "He's +beat you by five hundred dollars. If you should pile that furniture +in the yard and hang up a sign, 'Help yourself,' folks wouldn't haul +it off without pay for truckin'." + +"Le's see!" said Hiram, fingering his nose, "was it real money or +Confederate scrip that _you_ let him have on _your_ morgidge?" + +"Thutty-five hunderd ain't much on the most central piece of real +estate in this village," declared the Cap'n, in stout defence. + +"It's central, all right, but so is the stomach-ache," remarked Hiram, +calmly. "What good is that land when there ain't been a buildin' built +in this town for fifteen years, and no call for any? As for the house, +I'll bet ye a ten-cent cigar I can go over there and push it down--and +I ain't braggin' of my strength none, either." + +The Cap'n did not venture to defend his investment further. He stared +despondently through the window at the seamed roof and weather-worn +walls that looked particularly forlorn and dilapidated on that gray +March day. + +"I let him have money on it when the trees was leaved out, and things +look different then," he sighed. + +"And I must have let him have it when I was asleep and dreamin' that +Standard Ile had died and left his money to me," snorted the showman. +"I ain't blamin' you, Cap, and you needn't blame me, but the size +of it is you and me has gone into partnership and bought a tavern, +and didn't know it. If they had let Parrott alone he might have +wiggled out of the hole after a while." + +"It ain't wuth a hoorah in a hen-pen if it ain't run as a tavern," +stated the Cap'n. "I ain't in favor of rum nor sellin' rum, and I +knew that Ferd was sellin' a little suthin' on the sly, but he told +me he was goin' to repair up and git in some summer boarders, and +I was lettin' him work along. There ain't much business nor +look-ahead to wimmen, is there?" he asked, sourly. + +"Not when they bunch themselves in a flock and get to squawkin'," +agreed his friend. + +"I don't know what they are doin' over there now," averred the first +selectman, "but before they set fire to it or tear the daylights out, +and seein' as how it's our property accordin' to present outlook, +I reckon we'd better go over and put an eye on things. They prob'ly +think it belongs to Ferd." + +"Not since that bean-pole with a tin badge onto it got acrost there +with its mouth open," affirmed Hiram, with decision, "and if he ain't +told 'em that we bought Ferd out and set him up in the rum business, +he's lettin' us out easier than I figger on." + +The concerted glare of eyes that fairly assailed them when they +somewhat diffidently ventured into the office of the tavern +indicated that Hiram was not far off in his "figgerin'." The +embarrassed self-consciousness of Constable Nute, staring at the +stained ceiling, told much. The indignant eyes of the women told +more. + +Mr. Parrott's brother was a sea-captain who had sent him "stuffed" +natural-history curios from all parts of the world, and Mr. Parrott +had arranged a rather picturesque interior. Miss Philamese Nile, +president of the W.T.W.'s, stood beneath a dusty alligator that swung +from the ceiling, and Cap'n Sproul, glancing from one to the other, +confessed to himself that he didn't know which face looked the most +savage. + +She advanced on him, forefinger upraised. + +"Before you go to spreadin' sail, marm," said the Cap'n, stoutly, +"you'd better be sure that you ain't got holt of the down-haul instead +of the toppin'-lift." + +"Talk United States, Cap'n Sproul," snapped Miss Nile. "You've had +your money in this pit of perdition here, you and Hiram Look, the +two of you. As a town officer you've let Ferd Parrott fun a cheap, +nasty rum-hole, corruptin' and ruinin' the manhood of Smyrna, and +you've helped cover up this devilishness, though we, the wimmen of +this town, have begged and implored on bended knee. Now, that's plain, +straight Yankee language, and we want an answer in the same tongue." + +Neither the Cap'n nor Hiram found any consolation at that moment in +the countenances of their respective wives. Those faces were very +red, but their owners looked away resolutely and were plainly +animated by a stern sense of duty, bulwarked as they were by the +Workers. + +"We've risen for the honor of this town," continued Miss Nile. + +"Well, stay up, then!" snorted the short-tempered Hiram. "Though as +for me, I never could see anything very handsome in a hen tryin' to +fly." + +"Do you hear that?" shrilled Miss Nile. "Aren't you proud of your +noble husband, Mis' Look? Isn't he a credit to the home and an +ornament to his native land?" + +But Hiram, when indignant, was never abashed. + +"Wimmen," said he, "has their duties to perform and their place to +fill--all except old maids that make a specialty of 'tending to other +folks' business." He bent a withering look on Miss Nile. "Cap'n +Sproul and me ain't rummies, and you can't make it out so, not even +if you stand here and talk till you spit feathers. We've had business +dealin's with Parrott, and business is business." + +"And every grafter 'twixt here and kingdom come has had the same +excuse," declared the valiant head of the Workers. "Business or no +business, Ferd Parrott is done runnin' this tavern." + +"There's a point I reckon you and me can agree on," said Hiram, sadly. +He gazed out to where the tracks of Mr. Parrott led away through the +slush. + +"And it's the sense of the women of this place that such a dirty old +ranch sha'n't disgrace Smyrna any longer." + +"You mean--" + +"I mean shut up these doors--nail 'em--and let decent and respectable +women put up the folks who pass this way--put 'em up in a decent and +respectable place. That's the sense of the women." + +"And it's about as much sense as wimmen show when they get out of +their trodden path," cried Hiram, angrily. "You and the rest of ye +think, do ye, that me and Cap'n Sproul is goin' to make a present +of five thousand dollars to have this tavern stand here as a +Double-yer T. Double-yer monnyment? Well, as old Bassett said, +skursely, and not even as much as that!" + +"Then I'd like to see the man that can run it," declared the +spokeswoman with fine spirit. "We're going to back Mis' Gifford. +We're going to the train to get custom for her. We're going to warn +every one against this tavern. There isn't a girl or woman in twenty +towns around here who'll work in this hole after we've warned 'em +what it is. Yes, sir, I'd like to see the man that can run it!" + +"Well, you look at him!" shouted Hiram, slapping his breast. He noted +a look of alarm on the Cap'n's face, and muttered to him under his +breath: "You ain't goin' to let a pack of wimmen back ye down, be +ye?" + +"How be we goin' to work to run it?" whispered the Cap'n. + +"That ain't the p'int now," growled Hiram. "The p'int is, we're goin' +to run it. And you've got to back me up." + +"Hiram!" called his wife, appealingly, but he had no ears for her. + +"You've made your threats," he stormed, addressing the leader of the +Workers. "You haven't talked to us as gents ought to be talked to. +You haven't made any allowances. You haven't shown any charity. +You've just got up and tried to jam us to the wall. Now, seein' that +your business is done here, and that this tavern is under new +management, you'll be excused to go over and start your own place." + +He opened the door and bowed, and the women, noting determination +in his eyes, began to murmur, to sniff spitefully, and to jostle +slowly out. Mrs. Look and Mrs. Sproul showed some signs of lingering, +but Hiram suggested dryly that they'd better stick with the band. + +"We'll be man and wife up home," he said, "and no twits and no hard +feelin's. But just now you are Double-yer T. Double-yers and we are +tavern-keepers--and we don't hitch." They went. + +"Now, Nute," barked Hiram, when the constable lingered as though +rather ashamed to depart with the women, "you get out of here and +you stay out, or I'll cook that stuffed alligator and a few others +of these tangdoodiaps here and ram 'em down them old jaws of yours." +Therefore, Constable Nute went, too. + + + + +XXVIII + + +Moved by mutual impulse, Hiram and the Cap'n plodded through the +deserted tavern, up-stairs and down-stairs. When they went into the +kitchen the two hired girls were dragging their trunks to the door, +and scornfully resisted all appeals to remain. They said it was a +nasty rum-hole, and that they had reputations to preserve just as +well as some folks who thought they were better because they had money. +Fine hand of the W.T.W.'s shown thus early in the game of +tavern-keeping! There were even dirty dishes in the sink, so +precipitate was the departure. + +In the stable, the hostler, a one-eyed servitor, with the piping +voice, wobbly gait, and shrunken features of the "white drunkard," +was in his usual sociable state of intoxication, and declared that +he would stick by them. He testified slobberingly as to his devotion +to Mr. Parrott, declared that when the women descended Mr. Parrott +confided to him the delicate task of "hiding the stuff," and that +he had managed to conceal quite a lot of it. + +"Well, dig it up and throw it away," directed Hiram. + +"Oh, only a fool in the business buries rum," confided the hostler. +"I've been in the rum business, and I know. They allus hunts haymows +and sullers. But I know how to hide it. I'm shrewd about them things." + +"We don't want no rum around here," declared the showman with +positiveness. + +The hostler winked his one eye at him, and, having had a rogue's long +experience in roguery, plainly showed that he believed a command of +this sort to be merely for the purpose of publication and not an +evidence of good faith. + +"And there won't be much rum left round here if we only let him alone," +muttered Hiram as he and the Cap'n walked back to the house. "I only +wisht them hired girls had as good an attraction for stayin' as he's +got." + +"Look here, Hiram," said the Cap'n, stopping him on the porch, "it's +all right to make loud talk to them Double-yer T. Double-yers, but +there ain't any sense in makin' it to each other. You and me can't +run this tavern no more'n hen-hawks can run a revival. Them wimmen--" + +"You goin' to let them wimmen cackle for the next two years, and pass +it down to their grandchildren how they done us out of all the money +we put in here--two able-bodied business men like we be? A watch ain't +no good only so long's it's runnin', and a tavern ain't, either. We've +got to run this till we can sell it, wimmen or no wimmen--and you +hadn't ought to be a quitter with thutty-five hunderd in it." + +But there was very little enthusiasm or determination in the Cap'n's +face. The sullenness deepened there when he saw a vehicle turn in +at the tavern yard. It was a red van on runners, and on its side was +inscribed: + + T. BRACKETT, + TINWARE AND YANKEE NOTIONS. + +He was that round-faced, jovial little man who was known far and wide +among the housewives of the section as "Balm o' Joy Brackett," on +account of a certain liniment that he compounded and dispensed as +a side-line. With the possible exception of one Marengo Todd, +horse-jockey and also far-removed cousin of Mrs. Sproul, there was +no one in her circle of cousins that the Cap'n hated any more +cordially than Todd Ward Brackett. Mr. Brackett, by cheerfully +hailing the Cap'n as "Cousin Aaron" at every opportunity, had +regularly added to the latter's vehemence of dislike. + +The little man nodded cheery greeting to the showman, cried his usual +"Hullo, Cousin Aaron!" to the surly skipper, bobbed off his van, and +proceeded to unharness. + +"Well," sighed Hiram, resignedly, "guest Number One for supper, +lodgin', and breakfast--nine shillin's and hossbait extry. 'Ev'ry +little helps,' as old Bragg said when he swallowed the hoss-fly." + +"There ain't any Todd Ward Brackett goin' to stop in _my_ tavern," +announced the Cap'n with decision. Mr. Brackett overheard and +whirled to stare at them with mild amazement. "That's what I said," +insisted Cap'n Sproul, returning the stare. "Ferd Parrott ain't +runnin' this tavern any longer. We're runnin' it, and you nor none +of your stripe can stop here." He reflected with sudden comfort that +there was at least one advantage in owning a hotel. It gave a man +a chance at his foes. + +"You're _runnin'_ it, be you?" inquired Mr. Brackett, raising his +voice and glancing toward Broadway's store platform where loafers +were listening. + +"That's what we be," shouted the Cap'n. + +"Well, I'm glad to hear that you're really _runnin'_ it--and that +it ain't closed," said Mr. Brackett, "'cause I'm applyin' here to +a public house to be put up, and if you turn me away, havin' plenty +of room and your sign up, by ginger, I'll sue you under the statute +and law made and pervided. I ain't drunk nor disorderly, and I've +got money to pay--and I'll have the law on ye if ye don't let me in." + +Mention of the law always had terrifying effect on Cap'n Sproul. He +feared its menace and its intricacies. It was his nightmare that law +had long been lying in wait on shore for him, and that once the +land-sharks got him in their grip they would never let go until he +was sucked dry. + +"I've got witnesses who heard," declared Mr. Brackett, waggling +mittened hand at the group on the platform. "Now you look out for +yourself!" + +He finished unharnessing his horse and led the animal toward the barn, +carolling his everlasting lay about "Old Hip Huff, who went by +freight to Newry Corner, in this State." + +"There's just this much about it, Cap," Hiram hastened to say; "me +'n' you have got to run the shebang till we can unlo'd it. We can't +turn away custom and kill the thing dead. I'll 'tend the office, make +the beds, and keep the fires goin'. You--you--" He gazed at the Cap'n, +faltering in his speech and fingering his nose apprehensively. + +"Well, me what?" snapped the ex-master of the _Jefferson P. Benn_. +But his sparkling eyes showed that he realized what was coming. + +"You've allus been braggin'," gulped Hiram, "what a dabster you was +at cookin', havin' been to sea and--" + +"Me--_me?_" demanded the Cap'n, slugging his own breast ferociously. +"Me put on an ap'un, and go out there, and kitchen-wallop for that +jimbedoggified junacker of a tin-peddler? I'll burn this old shack +down first, I will, by the--" + +But Hiram entered fervent and expostulatory appeal. + +"If you don't, we're sendin' that talkin'-machine on legs off to sue +and get damages, and report this tavern from Clew to Hackenny, and +spoil our chances for a customer, and knock us out generally." + +He put his arm about the indignant Cap'n and drew him in where the +loafers couldn't listen, and continued his anxious coaxings until +at last Cap'n Sproul kicked and stamped his way into the kitchen, +cursing so horribly that the cat fled. He got a little initial +satisfaction by throwing after her the dirty dishes in the sink, +listening to their crashing with supreme satisfaction. Then he +proceeded to get supper. + +It had been a long time since he had indulged his natural taste for +cookery. In a half-hour he had forgotten his anger and was revelling +in the domain of pots and pans. He felt a sudden appetite of his own +for the good, old-fashioned plum-duff of shipboard days, and started +one going. Then gingercake--his own kind--came to his memory. He +stirred up some of that. He sent Hiram on a dozen errands to the +grocery, and Hiram ran delightedly. + +"I'll show you whether I can cook or not," was the Cap'n's proud boast +to the showman when the latter bustled eagerly in from one of his +trips. He held out a smoking doughnut on a fork. "There ain't one +woman in ten can fry 'em without 'em soakin' fat till they're as heavy +as a sinker." + +Hiram gobbled to the last mouthful, expressing his admiration as he +ate, and the Cap'n glowed under the praise. + +His especial moment of triumph came when his wife and Mrs. Look, +adventuring to seek their truant husbands, sat for a little while +in the tavern kitchen and ate a doughnut, and added their astonished +indorsement. In the flush of his masterfulness he would not permit +them to lay finger on dish, pot, or pan. + +Hiram served as waiter to the lonely guest in the dining-room, and +was the bearer of several messages of commendation that seemed to +anger the Cap'n as much as other praise gratified him. + +"Me standin' here cookin' for that sculpin!" he kept growling. + +However, he ladled out an especially generous portion of +plum-duff--the climax of his culinary art--and to his wrathful +astonishment Hiram brought it back untasted. + +"Mebbe it's all right," he said, apologetically, "but he was filled +full, and he said it was a new dish to him and didn't look very good, +and--" + +The Cap'n grabbed the disparaged plum-duff with an oath and started +for the dining-room. + +"Hold on!" Hiram expostulated; "you've got to remember that he's a +guest, Cap. He's--" + +"He's goin' to eat what I give him, after I've been to all the +trouble," roared the old skipper. + +Mr. Brackett was before the fire in the office, hiccuping with +repletion and stuffing tobacco into the bowl of his clay pipe. + +"Anything the matter with that duff?" demanded the irate cook, +pushing the dish under Mr. Brackett's retreating nose. "Think I don't +know how to make plum-duff--me that's sailed the sea for thutty-five +years?" + +"Never made no such remarks on your cookin'," declared the guest, +clearing his husky throat in which the food seemed to be sticking. + +"Hain't got no fault to find with that plum-duff?" + +"Not a mite," agreed Mr. Brackett, heartily. + +"Then you come back out here to the table and eat it. You ain't goin' +to slander none of my vittles that I've took as much trouble with +as I have with this." + +"But I'm full up--chock!" pleaded Mr. Brackett. "I wisht I'd have +saved room. I reckon it's good. But I ain't carin' for it." + +"You'll come out and eat that duff if I have to stuff it down your +thro't with the butt of your hoss-whip," said the Cap'n with an +iciness that was terrifying. He grabbed the little man by the collar +and dragged him toward the dining-room, balancing the dish in the +other hand. + +"I'll bust," wailed Mr. Brackett. + +"Well, that bump will make a little room," remarked Cap'n Sproul, +jouncing him down into a chair. + +He planted one broad hand on the table and the other on his hip, and +stood over the guest until the last crumb of the duff was gone, +although Mr. Brackett clucked hiccups like an overfed hen. The Cap'n +felt some of his choler evaporate, indulging in this sweet act of +tyranny. + +Resentment came slowly into the jovial nature of meek Todd Ward +Brackett. But as he pushed away from the table he found courage to +bend baleful gaze on his over-hospitable host. + +"I've put up at a good many taverns in my life," he said, "and I'm +allus willin' to eat my fair share of vittles, but I reckon I've got +the right to say how much!" + +"If you're done eatin'," snapped the Cap'n, "get along out, and don't +stay round in the way of the help." And Mr. Brackett retired, growling +over this astonishing new insult. + +He surveyed the suspended alligator gloomily, as he stuffed tobacco +into his pipe. + +"Better shet them jaws," he advised, "or now that he's crazy on the +plum-duff question he'll be jamming the rest of that stuff into you." + +"You can't say outside that the table ain't all right or that folks +go away hungry under the new management," remarked Hiram, +endeavoring to palliate. + +"New management goin' to inorg'rate the plum-duffin' idee as a +reg'lar system?" inquired Mr. Brackett, sullenly. "If it is, I'll +stay over to-morrow and see you operate on the new elder that's goin' +to supply the pulpit Sunday--pervidin' he stays here." + +Hiram blinked his eyes inquiringly. "New elder?" he repeated. + +"Get a few elders to put up here," suggested Mr. Brackett, venomously, +"and new management might take a little cuss off'm the reppytation +of this tavern." And the guest fell to smoking and muttering. + +Even as wisdom sometimes falls from the mouths of babes, so do good +ideas occasionally spring from careless sarcasm. + +After Mr. Brackett had retired Hiram discussed the matter of the +impending elder with Cap'n Sproul, the Cap'n not warming to the +proposition. + +"But I tell you if we can get that elder here," insisted Hiram, "and +explain it to him and get him to stay, he's goin' to look at it in +the right light, if he's got any Christian charity in him. We'll +entertain him free, do the right thing by him, tell him the case from +A to Z, and get him to handle them infernal wimmen. Only an elder +can do it. If we don't he may preach a sermon against us. That'll +kill our business proposition deader'n it is now. If he stays it will +give a tone to the new management, and he can straighten the thing +out for us." + +Not only did Cap'n Sproul fail to become enthusiastic, but he was +so distinctly discouraging that Hiram forbore to argue, feeling his +own optimistic resolution weaken under this depressing flow of cold +water. + +He did not broach the matter the next morning. He left the Cap'n +absorbed and busy in his domain of pots, set his jaws, took his own +horse and pung, and started betimes for the railroad-station two +miles away. On the way he overtook and passed, with fine contempt +for their podgy horse, a delegation from the W.T.W.'s. + +On the station platform they frowned upon him, and he scowled at them. +He realized that his only chance in this desperate venture lay in +getting at the elder first, and frisking him away before the women +had opportunity to open their mouths. A word from them might check +operations. And then, with the capture once made, if he could speed +his horse fast enough to allow him an uninterrupted quarter of an +hour at the tavern with the minister, he decided that only complete +paralysis of the tongue could spoil his plan. + +Hiram, with his superior bulk and his desperate eagerness, had the +advantage of the women at the car-steps. He crowded close. It was +the white-lawn tie on the first passenger who descended that did the +business for Hiram. In his mind white-lawn ties and clergymen were +too intimately associated to admit of error. He yanked away the +little man's valise, grabbed his arm, and rushed him across the +platform and into the pung's rear seat. And the instant he had scooped +the reins from the dasher he flung himself into the front seat and +was away up the road, larruping his horse and ducking the snow-cakes +that hurtled from the animal's hoofs. + +"Look here! I--I--" gasped the little man, prodding him behind. + +"It's all right, elder!" bellowed Hiram. "You wait till we get there +and it will be made all right. Set clus' and hold on, that's all now!" + +"But, look here, I want to go to Smyrna tavern!" + +"Good for you!" Hiram cried. "Set clus' and you'll get there!" It +seemed, after all, that ill repute had not spread far. His spirits +rose, and he whipped on at even better speed. + +"If this isn't life or death," pleaded the little man, "you needn't +hurry so." Several "thank-you-marms" had nearly bounced him out. + +"Set clus'," advised the driver, and the little man endeavored to +obey the admonition, clinging in the middle of the broad seat. + +Hiram did not check speed even on the slope of the hill leading into +the village, though the little man again lifted voice of fear and +protest. So tempestuous was the rush of the pung that the loafers +in Broadway's store hustled out to watch. And they saw the runners +strike the slush-submerged plank-walk leading across the square, +beheld the end of the pung flip, saw the little man rise high above +the seat with a fur robe in his arms and alight with a yell of mortal +fright in the mushy highway, rolling over and over behind the +vehicle. + +Helping hands of those running from the store platform picked him +up, and brought his hat, and stroked the slush out of his eyes so +that he could see Hiram Look sweeping back to recover his passenger. + +"You devilish, infernal jayhawk of a lunatic!" squealed the little +man. "Didn't I warn you not to drive so fast?" + +Hiram's jaw dropped at the first blast of that irreligious outbreak. +But the white-lawn tie reassured him. There was no time for argument. +Before those loafers was no fit place. He grabbed up the little man, +poked him into the pung, held him in with one hand and with the other +drove furiously to the tavern porch. With equal celerity he hustled +him into the office. + +"You ain't in any condition to talk business jest now till you're +slicked off a little, elder," he began in tones of abject apology. + +"You bet your jeeroosly life I'm not!" cried the little man in a +perfect frenzy of fury. + +Again Hiram opened his mouth agitatedly, and his eyebrows wrinkled +in pained surprise. Yet once more his eyes sought the white tie and +his hand reached for the little man's arm, and, feeling at a loss +just then for language of explanation, he hurried him up-stairs and +into a room whose drawn curtains masked some of its untidiness. + +"You wash up, elder," he counselled. "I won't let anybody disturb +you, and then whatever needs to be explained will be all explained. +Don't you blame me till you know it all." And he backed out and shut +the door. + +He faced the Cap'n at the foot of the stairs. The Cap'n had been +watching intently the ascent of the two, and had gathered from the +little man's scuffles and his language that he was not a particularly +enthusiastic guest. + +"They come hard, but we must have 'em, hey?" he demanded, grimly. +"This is worse than shanghaiing for a Liverpool boardin'-house, and +I won't--" + +"S-s-s-sh!" hissed Hiram, flapping his hand. "That's the elder." + +"An elder? A man that uses that kind of language?" + +"He's had good reason for it," returned Hiram, fervently. "It's stout +talk, but I ain't blamin' him." He locked the outside door. "Them +Double-yer T. Double-yers will be flockin' this way in a few +minutes," he said, in explanation, "but they'll have to walk acrost +me in addition to the doormat to get him before I've had my say." + +But even while he was holding the unconvinced Cap'n by the arm and +eagerly going over his arguments, once more they heard the treading +of many feet in the office. There were the W.T.W.'s in force, and +they had with them a tall, gaunt man; and the presence of Mrs. Look +and Mrs. Sproul, flushed but determined, indicated that the citadel +had been betrayed from the rear. + +"I present to you Reverend T. Thayer, gents," said the president, +icily, "and seein' that he is field-secretary of the enforcement +league, and knows his duty when he sees it clear, he will talk to +you for your own good, and if it don't do you good, I warn you that +there will be something said from the pulpit to-morrow that will +bring down the guilty in high places." + +"The elder!" gasped Hiram, whirling to gaze aghast at the Cap'n. Then +he turned desperate eyes up at the ceiling, where creaking footsteps +sounded. "Who in the name o' Jezebel--" he muttered. + +Above there was a sort of spluttering bark of a human voice, and the +next moment there was a sound as of some one running about wildly. +Then down the stairs came the guest, clattering, slipping, and +falling the last few steps as he clung to the rail. His eyes were +shut tight, his face was dripping, and he was plaintively bleating +over and over: "I'm poisoned! I'm blind!" + +Hiram ran to him and picked him up from where he had fallen. His coat +and vest were off, and his suspenders trailed behind him. One sniff +at his frowsled hair told Hiram the story. The little man's topknot +was soppy with whiskey; his face was running with it; his eyes were +full of it. And the next moment the doubtful aroma had spread to the +nostrils of all. And the one-eyed hostler and liquor depository, +standing on the outskirts of the throng that he had solicitously +followed in, slapped palm against thigh and cried: "By Peter, that's +the gallon I poured in the water-pitcher and forgot where I left it!" + +"Didn't I tell you and command you and order you to throw away all +the liquor round this place, you one-eyed sandpipe?" demanded Hiram, +furiously. + +"There was a lot of hidin' done in a hurry when they come down on +Ferd," pleaded the hostler, "and I forgot where I hid that gallon!" + +The little man had his smarting eyes open. "Whiskey?" he mumbled, +dragging his hand over his hair and sniffing at his fingers. + +"You heard what that renegade owned up to," shouted Hiram, facing +the women. "I gave him his orders. I give him his orders now. You +jest appoint your delegation, wimmen! Don't you hold me to blame for +rum bein' here. You foller that man! And if he don't show you where +every drop is hid and give it into your hands to spill, I'll--I'll--" +He paused for a threat, cast his eyes about him, and tore down the +alligator from the ceiling, seized it by the stiff tail and poised +it like a cudgel. "I'll meller him within an inch of his life." + +"That sounds fair and reasonable, ladies," said the clergyman, +"though, of course, we don't want any violence." + +"I'm always fair and reasonable," protested Hiram, "when folks come +at me in a fair and reasonable way. You talk to them wimmen, elder, +about bein' fair and reasonable themselves, and then lead 'em back +here, and you'll find me ready to pull with 'em for the good of this +place, without tryin' to run cross-legged or turn a yoke or twist +the hames." + +When the reformers had departed on the heels of the cowed hostler, +Hiram surveyed with interest the little man who was left alone with +them. + +"I--I--reckon I've got a little business to talk over with you," +faltered the old showman, surveying him ruefully. The little man took +a parting sniff at his finger-tips. + +"You think, do you, that you've got over being driven up and that +now you can stop flying and perch a few minutes?" inquired the little +man with biting irony. + +"I'll 'tend to your case now jest as close as I can," returned Hiram, +meekly. + +"Well," proceeded the little man, after boring Hiram and then the +Cap'n for a time with steely eyes, "I happened to run across one +Ferdinand Parrott on the train, and he seemed to have what I've been +looking for, a property that I can convert into a sanitarium. My name +is Professor Diamond, and I am the inventor of the Telauto--" + +But Hiram's curiosity did not extend to the professor's science. + +"The idee is," he broke in, eagerly, "did Ferd Parrott say anything +about a morgidge and bill of sale bein' on this property, and be you +prepared to clear off encumbrances?" + +"I am," declared the professor promptly. + +"Then you take it," snapped Hiram, with comprehensive sweep of his +big hand. He kicked the alligator into the fireplace, took down his +overcoat and shrugged his shoulders into it. "Get your money counted +and come 'round to town office for your papers." + +While he was buttoning it the Reverend Thayer returned, leading the +ladies of the Women's Temperance Workers, Miss Philamese Nile at his +side. But Hiram checked her first words. + +"You talk to him after this," he said, with a chuck of his thumb over +his shoulder toward the professor. "Speakin' for Cap'n Aaron Sproul +and myself, I take the liberty to here state that we are now biddin' +farewell to the tavern business in one grand tableau to slow music, +lights turned low and the audience risin' and singin' 'Home, Sweet +Home'." He strode out by the front way, followed by Mrs. Look. + +"Had you just as soon come through the kitchen with me?" asked the +Cap'n in a whisper as he approached his wife. "I'm goin' to do up +what's left of that plum-duff and take it home. It kind o' hits my +tooth!" + + + + +XXIX + + +Mr. Aholiah Luce, of the Purgatory Hollow section of Smyrna, stood +at bay on the dirt-banking of his "castle," that is, a sagged-in old +hulk of a house of which only the L was habitable. + +He was facing a delegation of his fellow-citizens, to wit: Cap'n +Aaron Sproul, first selectman of the town; Hiram Look, Zeburee Nute, +constable; and a nervous little man with a smudge of smut on the side +of his nose--identity and occupation revealed by the lettering on +the side of his wagon: + + T. TAYLOR + STOVES AND TINWARE + VIENNA + +Mr. Luce had his rubber boots set wide apart, and his tucked-in +trousers emphasized the bow in his legs. With those legs and his +elongated neck and round, knobby head, Mr. Luce closely resembled +one of a set of antique andirons. + +"You want to look out you don't squdge me too fur in this," said Mr. +Luce, warningly. "I've been squdged all my life, and I've 'bout come +to the limick. Now look out you don't squdge me too fur!" + +He side-stepped and stood athwart his door, the frame of which had +been recently narrowed by half, the new boarding showing glaringly +against the old. When one understood the situation, this new boarding +had a very significant appearance. + +Mr. Luce had gone over into Vienna, where his reputation for +shiftiness was not as well known, and had secured from Mr. T. Taylor, +recently set up in the stove business, a new range with all modern +attachments, promising to pay on the instalment plan. Stove once +installed, Mr. Luce had immediately begun to "improve" his mansion +by building a new door-frame too narrow to permit the exit of the +stove. Then Mr. Luce had neglected to pay, and, approached by +replevin papers, invoked the statute that provides that a man's house +cannot be ripped in pieces to secure goods purchased on credit. + +Constable Nute, unable to cope with the problem, had driven to Smyrna +village and summoned the first selectman, and the Cap'n had solicited +Hiram Look to transport him, never having conquered his sailor's fear +of a horse. + +"It ain't goin' to be twitted abroad in Vienny nor any other town +that we let you steal from outsiders in any such way as this," +declared the first selectman, once on the ground. "Folks has allus +cal'lated on your stealin' about so much here in town in the run of +a year, and haven't made no great fuss about it. But we ain't goin' +to harbor and protect any general Red Rover and have it slurred +against this town. Take down that scantlin' stuff and let this man +have his stove." + +"You can squdge me only so fur and no furder," asserted Luce, sullenly, +holding down his loose upper lip with his yellow teeth as though to +keep it from flapping in the wind. Within the mansion there was the +mellow rasp of a tin of biscuit on an oven floor, the slam of an oven +door, and Mrs. Luce appeared dusting flour from her hands. All who +knew Mrs. Luce knew that she was a persistent and insistent exponent +of the belief of the Millerites--"Go-uppers," they called the sect +in Smyrna. + +"I say you've got to open up and give this man his property," cried +Cap'n Sproul, advancing on them. + +"Property? Who talks of property?" demanded Mrs. Luce, her voice +hollow with the hollowness of the prophet. "No one knows the day and +the hour when we are to be swept up. It is near at hand. We shall +ride triumphant to the skies. And will any one think of property and +the vain things of this world then?" + +"Prob'ly not," agreed the Cap'n, sarcastically, "and there won't be +any need of a cook-stove in the place where your husband will fetch +up. He can do all his cookin' on a toastin'-fork over an open +fire--there'll be plenty of blaze." + +"Don't squdge me too fur," repeated Mr. Luce, clinging to the most +expressive warning he could muster just then. + +"It's full time for that critter to be fetched up with a round turn," +muttered Constable Nute, coming close to the elbow of the first +selectman, where the latter stood glowering on the culprit. "I reckon +you don't know as much about him as I do. When his mother was nussin' +him, a helpless babe, he'd take the pins out'n her hair, and they +didn't think it was anything but playin'. Once he stole the specs +off'm her head whilst she was nappin' with him in her arms, and jammed +'em down a hole in the back of the rockin'-chair. Whilst old Doc Burns +was vaccinatin' him--and he wa'n't more'n tew years old--he got Doc's +watch." + +"Those things would kind of give you a notion he'd steal, give him +a fair chance," commented Hiram, dryly. + +"He's stole ever since--everything from carpet tacks to a load of +hay," snapped the constable, "till folks don't stop to think he's +stealin'. He's got to be like rats and hossflies and other pests--you +cuss 'em, but you reckon they've come to stay." + +"I've abated some of the nuisances in this town," stated the Cap'n, +"and I cal'late I'm good for this one, now that it's been stuck under +my nose. Why haven't you arrested him in times past, same as you ought +to have done?" + +"Wasn't any one who would swear out complaints," said the constable. +"He's allus been threatenin' what kairosene and matches would do to +barns; and it wouldn't be no satisfaction to send 'Liah Luce to State +Prison--he ain't account enough. It wouldn't pay the loser for a +stand of buildin's--havin' him there." + +Cap'n Sproul began to understand some of the sane business reasons +that guaranteed the immunity of Aholiah Luce, so long as he stuck +to petty thieving. But this international matter of the town of +Vienna seemed to the first selectman of Smyrna to be another sort +of proposition. And he surveyed the recalcitrant Mr. Luce with +malignant gaze. + +"I've never seen you backed down by nobody," vouchsafed the admiring +constable, anxious to shift his own responsibility and understanding +pretty well how to do it. "I've allus said that if there was any man +could run this town the way it ought to be run you was the man to +do it." + +Cap'n Sproul was not the kind to disappoint the confident flattery +of those who looked up to him. He buttoned his pea-jacket, and set +his hat firmly on his head. Mr. Luce noted these signs of belligerency +and braced his firedog legs. + +"It's the meek that shall inherit, ye want to remember that!" croaked +Mrs. Luce. "And the crowned heads and the high and mighty--where will +they be then?" + +"They won't be found usin' a stolen cook-stove and quotin' +Scriptur'," snorted the Cap'n in disgust. + +"It ain't been stole," insisted Mr. Luce. "It was bought reg'lar, +and it can't be took away without mollywhackin' my house--and I've +got the law on my side that says you can't do it." + +Cap'n Sproul was close to the banking. + +"Luce," he said, savagely, "I ain't out here to-day to discuss law +p'ints nor argy doctrines of religion. You've got a stove there that +belongs to some one else, and you either pay for it or give it up. +I'm willin' to be fair and reasonable, and I'll give you fifteen +seconds to pay or tear down that door framework." + +But neither alternative, nor the time allowed for acceptance, seemed +to please Mr. Luce. In sudden, weak anger at being thus cornered after +long immunity, he anathematized all authority as 'twas vested in the +first selectman of Smyrna. Several men passing in the highway held +up their horses and listened with interest. + +Emboldened by his audience, spurred to desperate measures, Mr. Luce +kicked out one of his rubber boots at the advancing Cap'n. The Cap'n +promptly grasped the extended leg and yanked. Mr. Luce came off his +perch and fell on his back in the mud, and Constable Nute straddled +him instantly and held him down. With an axe that he picked up at +the dooryard woodpile, Cap'n Aaron hammered out the new door-frame, +paying no heed to Mr. Luce's threats or Mrs. Luce's maledictions. + +"I don't know the law on it, nor I don't care," he muttered between +his teeth as he toiled. "All I know is, that stove belongs to T. Taylor, +of Vienny, and he's goin' to have it." + +And when the new boarding lay around him in splinters and the door +was wide once more, he led the way into the kitchen. + +"You undertake to throw that hot water on me, Mis' Luce," he declared, +noting what her fury was prompting, "and you'll go right up through +that roof, and it won't be no millennium that will boost you, either." + +The stove man and Hiram followed him in and the disinterested +onlookers came, too, curiosity impelling them. And as they were +Smyrna farmers who had suffered various and aggravating depredations +by this same Aholiah Luce, they were willing to lend a hand even to +lug out a hot stove. The refulgent monarch of the kitchen departed, +with the tin of biscuit still browning in its interior, passed close +to the cursing Mr. Luce, lying on his back under Nute's boring knee, +and then with a lusty "Hop-ho! All together!" went into T. Taylor's +wagon. + +Mr. Luce, freed now as one innocuous, leaped up and down in a perfect +ecstasy of fury. "You've squdged me too fur. You've done it at last!" +he screamed, with hysteric iteration. "You've made me a desp'rit' +outlaw." + +"Outlaw! You're only a cheap sneak-thief!" + +"That's right, Cap'n Sproul," remarked the constable. "He can't even +steal hens till it's dark and they can't look at him. If they turned +and put their eye on him he wouldn't dare to touch 'em." + +"I don't dast to be an outlaw, hey?" shrieked Mr. Luce. The vast +injury that had been done him, this ruthless assault on his house, +his humiliation in public, and now these wanton taunts, whipped his +weak nature into frenzy. Cowards at bay are the savagest foes. Mr. +Luce ran amuck! + +Spurring his resolution by howling over and over: "I don't dast to +be an outlaw, hey? I'll show ye!" he hastened with a queer sort of +stiff-legged gallop into the field, tore away some boarding, and +descended into what was evidently a hiding-place, a dry well. A +moment, and up he popped, boosting a burden. He slung it over his +shoulder and started toward them, staggering under its weight. It +was a huge sack, with something in it that sagged heavily. + +"Nice sort of an outlaw he'll make--that woodchuck!" observed +Constable Nute with a cackle of mirth. + +The first selectman and his supporters surveyed the approach of the +furious Mr. Luce with great complacency. If Mr. Luce had emerged with +a shot-gun in his fist and a knife in his teeth he might have presented +some semblance of an outlaw. But this bow-legged man with a sack +certainly did not seem savage. Hiram offered the humorous suggestion +that perhaps Mr. Luce proposed to restore property, and thereby +causing people to fall dead with astonishment would get his revenge +on society. + +"I warned ye and you wouldn't listen," screamed the self-declared +pariah. "I said there was such a thing as squdgin' me too fur. Ye +didn't believe it. Now mebbe ye'll believe that!" + +He had halted at a little distance from them, and had set down his +sack. He dove into it and held up a cylinder, something more than +half a foot long, a brown, unassuming cylinder that certainly didn't +have anything about its looks to call out all the excitement that +was convulsing Mr. Luce. + +"Pee-ruse that!" squealed he. "_There's_ a lead-pencil that will +write some news for ye." He shook the cylinder at them. "And there's +plenty more of 'em in this bag." He curled his long lip back. +"Daminite!" he spat. "I'll show ye whuther I'm an outlaw or not." + +"And I know where you stole it," bawled one of the bystanders +indignantly. "You stole all me and my brother bought and had stored +for a season's blastin'. Constable Nute, I call on you to arrest him +and give me back my property." + +"Arrest me, hey?" repeated Mr. Luce. In one hand he shook aloft the +stick of dynamite, with its dangling fuse that grimly suggested the +detonating cap at its root. In the other hand he clutched a bunch +of matches. "You start in to arrest me and you'll arrest two miles +straight up above here, travellin' a hundred miles a minit." + +"There ain't any grit in him, Nute," mumbled Cap'n Sproul. "Jest give +a whoop and dash on him." + +"That sounds glib and easy," demurred the prudent officer, "but if +that man hasn't gone clean loony then I'm no jedge. I don't reckon +I'm goin' to charge any batteries." + +"You'll do what I tell you to! You're an officer, and under orders." + +"You told me once to take up Hiram Look's el'funt and put her in the +pound," remonstrated the constable. "But I didn't do it, and I wasn't +holden to do it. And I ain't holden to run up and git blowed to +everlastin' hackmetack with a bag of dynamite." + +"Look here, Nute," cried the Cap'n, thoroughly indignant and +shifting the contention to his officer--entirely willing to ignore +Mr. Luce's threats and provocations--"I haven't called on you in a +tight place ever in my life but what you've sneaked out. You ain't +fit for even a hog-reeve. I'm going to cancel your constable +appointment, that's what I'll do when I get to town hall." + +"I'll do it right now," declared the offended Mr. Nute, unpinning +his badge. "Any time you've ordered me to do something sensible I've +done it. But el'funts and lunatics and dynamite and some of the other +jobs you've unlo'ded onto me ain't sensible, and I won't stand for +'em. You can't take me in the face and eyes of the people and rake +me over." He had noted that the group in the highway had considerably +increased. "I've resigned." + +Mr. Luce was also more or less influenced and emboldened and pricked +on by being the centre of eyes. As long as he seemed to be expected +to give a show, he proposed to make it a good one. His flaming eyes +fell on T. Taylor, busy over the stove, getting it ready for its +journey back to Vienna. Mr. Taylor, happy in the recovery of his +property, was paying little attention to outlaws or official +disputes. He had cleaned out the coals and ashes, and having just +now discovered the tin of biscuit, tossed it away. This last seemed +too much for Mr. Luce's self-control. + +"I don't dast to be an outlaw, hey?" he cried, hoarsely. "That stove +is too good for me, is it? My wife's biskits throwed into the mud +and mire!" + +He lighted the fuse of the dynamite, ran to the team and popped the +explosive into the stove oven and slammed the door. Then he flew to +his sack, hoisted it to his shoulder and staggered back toward the +dry well. + +At this critical juncture there did not arise one of those rare +spirits to perform an act of noble self-sacrifice. There have been +those who have tossed spluttering bombs into the sea; who have +trodden out hissing fuses. But just then no one seemed to care for +the exclusive and personal custody of that stick of dynamite. + +All those in teams whipped up, yelling like madmen, and those on foot +grabbed on behind and clambered over tailboards. Cap'n Sproul, +feeling safer on his own legs than in Hiram's team, pounded away down +the road with the speed of a frantic Percheron. And in all this panic +T. Taylor, only dimly realizing that there was something in his stove +that was going to cause serious trouble, obeyed the exhortations +screamed at him, cut away his horse, straddled the beast's back and +fled with the rest. + +The last one in sight was Mrs. Luce, who had shown serious intentions +of remaining on the spot as though she feared to miss anything that +bore the least resemblance to the coming of the last great day. But +she suddenly obeyed her husband, who was yelling at her over the edge +of the hole, and ran and fell in by his side. + +Missiles that screamed overhead signalized to the scattered +fugitives the utter disintegration of T. Taylor's stove. The hearth +mowed off a crumbly chimney on the Luce house, and flying fragments +crushed out sash in the windows of the abandoned main part. Cap'n +Sproul was the first one to reappear, coming from behind a distant +tree. There was a hole in the ground where T. Taylor's wagon had +stood. + +"Daminite!" screamed a voice. Mr. Luce was dancing up and down on +the edge of his hole, shaking another stick of the explosive. "I'll +show ye whuther I'm an outlaw or not! I'll have this town down on +its knees. I'll show ye what it means to squdge me too fur. I give +ye fair warnin' from now on. I'm a desp'rit' man. They'll write novels +about me before I'm done. Try to arrest me, will ye? I'll take the +whole possy sky-hootin' with me when ye come." He was drunk with power +suddenly revealed to him. + +He lifted the sack out of the hole and, paying no heed to some apparent +expostulations of Mrs. Luce, he staggered away up the hillside into +the beech growth, bowed under his burden. And after standing and +gazing for some time at the place where he disappeared, the first +selectman trudged down the road to where Hiram was waiting for him, +soothing his trembling horse. + +"Well," said the old showman, with a vigorous exhalation of breath +to mark relief, "get in here and let's go home. Accordin' to my notion, +replevinin' and outlawin' ain't neither sensible or fashionable or +healthy. Somethin' that looked like a stove-cover and sounded like +a howlaferinus only just missed me by about two feet. That critter's +dangerous to be let run loose. What are you goin' to do about him?" + +"Ketch him," announced the Cap'n, sturdily. + +"Well," philosophized Hiram, "smallpox is bad when it's runnin' +round loose, but it's a blastnation sight worse when it's been +ketched. You're the head of the town and I ain't, and I ain't +presumin' to advise, but I'd think twice before I went to runnin' +that bag o' dynamite into close corners. Luce ain't no account, and +no more is an old hoss-pistol, but when a hoss-pistol busts it's a +dangerous thing to be close to. You let him alone and mebbe he'll +quiet down." + +But that prophecy did not take into account the state of mind of the +new outlaw of Smyrna. + + + + +XXX + + +At about midnight Cap'n Sproul, snoring peaceably with wide-open +mouth, snapped upright in bed with a jerk that set his teeth into +his tongue and nearly dislocated his neck. He didn't know exactly +what had happened. He had a dizzy, dreaming feeling that he had been +lifted up a few hundred feet in the air and dropped back. + +"Land o' Goshen, Aaron, what was it?" gasped his wife. "It sounded +like something blowing up!" + +The hint steadied the Cap'n's wits. 'Twas an explosion--that was it! +And with grim suspicion as to its cause, he pulled on his trousers +and set forth to investigate. An old barn on his premises, a +storehouse for an overplus of hay and discarded farming tools, had +been blown to smithereens and lay scattered about under the stars. +And as he picked his way around the ruins with a lantern, cursing +the name of Luce, a far voice hailed him from the gloom of a belt +of woodland: "I ain't an outlaw, hey? I don't dast to be one, hey? +You wait and see." + +About an hour later, just as the selectman was sinking into a doze, +he heard another explosion, this time far in the distance--less a +sound than a jar, as of something striking a mighty blow on the earth. + +"More dynamite!" he muttered, recognizing that explosive's +down-whacking characteristic. And in the morning Hiram Look hurried +across to inform him that some miscreant had blown up an empty +corn-house on his premises, and that the explosion had shattered all +the windows in the main barn and nearly scared Imogene, the elephant, +into conniptions. "And he came and hollered into my bedroom window +that he'd show me whuther he could be an outlaw or not," concluded +the old showman. "I tell you that critter is dangerous, and you've +got to get him. Instead of quietin' down he'll be growin' worse." + +There were eleven men in Smyrna, besides Zeburee Nute, who held +commissions as constables, and those valiant officers Cap'n Sproul +called into the first selectman's office that forenoon. He could not +tell them any news. The whole of Smyrna was ringing with the +intelligence that Aholiah Luce had turned outlaw and was on the +rampage. + +The constables, however, could give Selectman Sproul some news. They +gave it to him after he had ordered them to surround Mr. Luce and +take him, dynamite and all. This news was to the effect that they +had resigned. + +"We've talked it over," averred Lycurgus Snell, acting as spokesman, +"and we can't figger any good and reeliable way of gittin' him without +him gittin' us, if he's so minded, all in one tableau, same to be +observed with smoked glasses like an eclipse. No, s'r, we ain't in +any way disposed to taller the heavens nor furnish mince-meat +funerals. And if we don't git him, and he knows we're takin' action +agin' him, he'll come round and blow our barns up--and we ain't so +well able to stand the loss as you and Mr. Look be." + +"Well, if you ain't about the nearest to knot-holes with the rims +gone off'm 'em of anything I ever see," declared the Cap'n, with fury, +"may I be used for oakum to calk a guano gunlow!" + +"If you think it's a job to set any man to, you'd better go and do +it yourself," retorted Snell, bridling. "You know as well as I do, +s'leckman, that so long as 'Liah has been let alone he's only been +a plain thief, and we've got along with him here in town all +right--onpleasant and somewhat expensive, like potater-bugs. But +you seem to have gone to pushin' him and have turned him from +potater-bug into a royal Peeruvian tiger, or words to that effect, +and I don't see any way but what you'll have to tame him yourself. +There's feelin' in town that way, and people are scart, and citizens +ain't at all pleased with your pokin' him up, when all was quiet." + +"Citizens ruther have it said, hey, that we are supportin' a +land-pirut here in this town, and let him disgrace us even over in +Vienny?" demanded the Cap'n. + +"Which was wuss?" inquired Mr. Snell, serenely. "As it was or as it +is?" + +Then the ex-constables, driven forth with contumely, went across to +the platform of Broadway's store, and discussed the situation with +other citizens, finding the opinion quite unanimous that Cap'n +Sproul possessed too short a temper to handle delicate matters with +diplomacy. And it was agreed that Aholiah Luce, weak of wit and +morally pernicious, was a delicate matter, when all sides were taken +into account. + +To them appeared Aholiah Luce, striding down the middle of the street, +with that ominous sack on his shoulder. + +"Be I an outlaw, or ain't I?" he shouted over and over, raising a +clamor in the quiet village that brought the Cap'n out of the town +house. "Arrest me, will ye? When ye try it there won't be nothin' +left of this town but a hole and some hollerin'." + +He walked right upon the store platform and into the store, and every +one fled before him. Broadway cowered behind his counter. + +"Put me up a fig o' tobacker, a pound of tea, quart o' merlasses, +ten pounds of crackers, hunk o' pork, and two cans of them salmons," +he ordered. + +In past years Mr. Luce had always slunk into Broadway's store +apologetically, a store-bill everlastingly unpaid oppressing his +spirits. Now he bellowed autocratic command, and his soul swelled +when he saw Broadway timorously hastening to obey. + +"I'll show 'em whuther I'm an outlaw or not," he muttered. "And I +wisht I'd been one before, if it works like this. The monarch of the +Injies couldn't git more attention," he reflected, as he saw the +usually contemptuous Broadway hustling about, wrapping up the goods. + +He saw scared faces peering in at him through the windows. He swung +the sack off his shoulder, and bumped it on the floor with a flourish. + +"My Lord-amighty, be careful with that!" squawked Broadway, ducking +down behind the counter. + +"You 'tend to business and make less talk, and you won't git hurt," +observed Mr. Luce, ferociously. He pointed at the storekeeper the +stick of dynamite that he carried in his hand. And Mr. Broadway hopped +up and bestirred himself obsequiously. + +"I don't know whuther I'll ever pay for these or not," announced Mr. +Luce, grabbing the bundles that Broadway poked across the counter +as gingerly as he would feed meat to a tiger. He stuffed them into +his sack. "I shall do jest as I want to about it. And when I've et +up this grub in my lair, where I propose to outlaw it for a while, +I shall come back for some more; and if I don't git it, along with +polite treatment, I'll make it rain groc'ries in this section for +twenty-four hours." + +"I didn't uphold them that smashed in your door," protested the +storekeeper, getting behind the coffee-grinder. + +"I've been squdged too fur, that's what has been done," declared Mr. +Luce, "and it was your seleckman that done it, and I hold the whole +town responsible. I don't know what I'm li'ble to do next. I've showed +_him_--now I'm li'ble to show the town. I dunno! It depends." + +He went out and stood on the store platform, and gazed about him with +the air of Alexander on the banks of the Euphrates. For the first +time in his lowly life Mr. Luce saw mankind shrink from before him. +It was the same as deference would have seemed to a man who had earned +respect, and the little mind of Smyrna's outlaw whirled dizzily in +his filbert skull. + +"I don't know what I'll do yit," he shouted, hailing certain faces +that he saw peering at him. "It was your seleckman that done it--and +a seleckman acts for a town. I reckon I shall do some more blowin' +up." + +He calmly walked away up the street, passing Cap'n Sproul, who stood +at one side. + +"I don't dast to be an outlaw, hey?" jeered Mr. Luce. + +"You don't dare to set down that sack," roared the selectman. "I'll +pay ye five hundred dollars to set down that sack and step out there +into the middle of that square--and I call on all here as witnesses +to that offer," he cried, noting that citizens were beginning to +creep back into sight once more. "Five hundred dollars for you, you +bow-legged hen-thief! You sculpin-mouthed hyena, blowing up men's +property!" + +"Hold on," counselled Mr. Luce. "You're goin' to squdgin' me ag'in. +I've been sassed enough in this town. I'm goin' to be treated with +respect after this if I have to blow up ev'ry buildin' in it." + +"It ain't safe to go to pokin' him up," advised Mr. Nute from afar. +"I should think you'd 'a' found that out by this time, Cap'n Sproul." + +"I've found out that what ain't cowards here are thieves,'" roared +the Cap'n, beside himself, ashamed, enraged at his impotence before +this boastful fool and his grim bulwark. His impulse was to cast +caution to the winds and rush upon Luce. But reflection told him that, +in this flush of his childish resentment and new prominence, Luce +was capable of anything. Therefore he prudently held to the side of +the road. + +"The next time I come into this village," said Mr. Luce, "I don't +propose to be called names in public by any old salt hake that has +pounded his dollars out of unfort'nit' sailors with belayin'-pins. +I know your record, and I ain't afeard of you!" + +"There'll be worse things happen to you than to be called names." + +"Oh, there will, hey?" inquired Mr. Luce, his weak passion flaming. +"Well, lemme give you jest one hint that it ain't safe to squdge me +too fur!" + +He walked back a little way, lighted the fuse of the stick of dynamite +that he carried, and in spite of horrified appeals to him, cast over +the shoulders of fleeing citizens, he tossed the wicked explosive +into the middle of the square and ran. + +In the words of Mr. Snell, when he came out from behind the +watering-trough: "It was a corn-cracker!" + +A half-hour later Mr. Nute, after sadly completing a canvass of the +situation, headed a delegation that visited Cap'n Sproul in the +selectman's office, where he sat, pallid with rage, and cursing. + +"A hundred and seventeen lights of glass," announced Mr. Nute, +"includin' the front stained-glass winder in the meetin'-house and +the big light in Broadway's store. And it all happened because the +critter was poked up agin'--and I warned ye not to do it, Cap'n." + +"Would it be satisfactory to the citizens if I pulled my wallet and +settled the damage?" inquired the first selectman, with baleful +blandness in his tones. + +Mr. Nute did not possess a delicate sense of humor or of satire. He +thoughtfully rubbed his nose. + +"Reely," he said, "when you git it reduced right down, that critter +ain't responsible any more'n one of them dynamite sticks is +responsible, and if it hadn't been for you lettin' him loose and then +pokin' him, contrary to warnin', them hundred and seventeen lights +of glass wouldn't--" + +"Are there any left?" asked Cap'n Sproul, still in subdued tones. + +"About as many more, I should jedge," replied Mr. Nute. + +"Well, I simply want to say," remarked the Cap'n, standing up and +clinching his fists, "that if you ever mention responsibility to me +again, Nute, I'll take you by the heels and smash in the rest of that +glass with you--and I'll do the same with any one else who don't know +enough to keep his yawp shut. Get out of here, the whole of you, or +I'll begin on what glass is left in this town house." + +They departed silently, awed by the menace of his countenance, but +all the more bitterly fixed in their resentment. + +That night two more hollow "chunks" shook the ground of Smyrna, at +intervals an hour separated, and morning light showed that two +isolated barns had been destroyed. + +Mr. Luce appeared in the village with his sack, quite at his ease, +and demanded of Broadway certain canned delicacies, his appetite +seeming to have a finer edge to correspond with his rising courage. +He even hinted that Broadway's stock was not very complete, and that +some early strawberries might soften a few of the asperities of his +nature. + +"I ain't never had a fair show on eatin'," he complained to the +apprehensive storekeeper. "It's been ten years that my wife ain't +got me a fair and square meal o' vittles. She don't believe in cookin' +nothin' ahead nor gettin' up anything decent. She's a Go-upper and +thinks the end of the world is li'ble to come any minit. And the way +I figger it, not havin' vittles reg'lar has give me dyspepsy, and +dyspepsy has made me cranky, and not safe to be squdged too fur. And +that's the whole trouble. I've got a hankerin' for strorb'ries. They +may make me more supple. P'raps not, but it's wuth tryin'." + +He tossed the cans into his sack in a perfectly reckless manner, until +Broadway was sick and hiccuping with fear. "Love o' Lordy," he +pleaded, "don't act that way. It's apt to go off--go off any time. +I know the stuff better'n you do--I've dealt in it. Ain't I usin' +you square on goods?" + +"Mebbe so," admitted Mr. Luce. "Fur's you know, you are. But the +trouble with me is my disposition. It ain't been made supple yet. +If you've got in stock what my appetite craves I may be more supple +next time I come." + +He dug a tender strip out of the centre of a hanging codfish, and +walked out. Parading his ease of spirits and contempt for humanity +in general, he stood on the platform and gnawed at the fish and gazed +serenely on the broken windows. + +"I done it," he mumbled, admiringly. "I showed 'em! It won't take +much more showin', and then they'll let me alone, and I'll live happy +ever after. Wonder is I hadn't reelized it before. Tail up, and +everybody stands to one side. Tail down, and everybody is tryin' to +kick you. If it wa'n't for that streak in human nature them devilish +trusts that I've heard tell of couldn't live a minit." He saw men +standing afar and staring at him apprehensively. "That's right, ding +baste ye," he said, musingly, "look up to me and keep your distance! +It don't make no gre't diff'runce how it's done, so long as I can +do it." + +And after further triumphant survey of the situation, he went away. + +"Hiram," said Cap'n Sproul, with decision, turning from a long survey +of Mr. Luce's retreating back through a broken window of the town +house, "this thing has gone jest as far as it's goin'." + +"Well," declared the showman with some bitterness, "to have them +that's in authority stand round here and let one bow-legged lunatic +blow up this whole town piecemeal ain't in any ways satisfyin' to +the voters. I hear the talk, and I'm givin' it to you straight as +a friend." + +"I've got my plan all made," said the first selectman. "I want you +as foreman to call out the Ancient and Honer'ble Firemen's +Association and have 'em surround them woods, and we'll take him." + +"We will, hey?" demanded Hiram, pushing back his plug hat and +squinting angrily. "What do you think that firemen's association is +for, anyway?" + +"Never knew it to do anything but eat free picnics and give social +dances," retorted the Cap'n. "I didn't know but it was willin' to +be useful for once in its life." + +"Slur noted!" said Hiram, with acerbity. "But you can't expect us +to pull you out of a hole that you've mismanaged yourself into. You +needn't flare, now, Cap'n. It's been mismanaged, and that's the +sentiment of the town. I ain't twittin' you because I've lost +property. I'm talkin' as a friend." + +"That's twice this mornin' you've passed me that 'friend' handbill," +raged the selectman. "Advertisin' yourself, be ye? And then leavin' +me in the lurch! This is a friendly town, that's what it is. +Constables, voters, firemen, and you yourself dump the whole burden +of this onto me, and then stand back and growl at me! Well, if this +thing is up to me alone and friendless and single-handed, I know what +I'm goin' to do!" His tone had the grate of file against steel. + +"What?" inquired his friend with interest. + +"Get a gun and go out and drop that humpbacked old Injy-cracker!" + +But Hiram protested fervently. + +"Where would you shoot him?" he cried. "You don't know where to find +him in them woods. You'd have to nail him here in the village, and +besides its bein' murder right in the face and eyes of folks, you'd +put a bullet into that sack o' dynamite and blow ev'ry store, +meetin'-house, and school-house in Smyrna off'm the map. You give +that up, or I'll pass the word and have you arrested, yourself, as +a dangerous critter." + +He went away, still protesting as long as he was in hearing. + +Cap'n Sproul sat despondent in his chair, and gazed through the +broken window at other broken windows. Ex-Constable Nute presented +himself at the pane outside and said, nervously chewing tobacco: "I +reckon it's the only thing that can be done now, Cap'n. It seems to +be the general sentiment." + +With a flicker of hope irradiating his features, Cap'n Sproul +inquired for details. + +"It's to write to the President and get him to send down a hunk of +the United States Army. You've got to fight fire with fire." + +Without particular display of passion, with the numb stolidity of +one whose inner fires have burned out, the selectman got up and threw +a cuspidor through the window at his counsellor, and then seated +himself to his pondering once more. + +That afternoon Mrs. Aholiah Luce came walking into the village, spent, +forlorn, and draggled. She went straight to the town office, and +seated herself in front of the musing first selectman. + +"I've come to call on for town help," she said. "I haven't got scrap +nor skred to eat, and northin' to cook it with. You've gone to work +and put us in a pretty mess, Mister S'leckman. Makin' my husband an +outlaw that's took to the woods, and me left on the chips!" + +The Cap'n surveyed her without speaking--apparently too crushed to +make any talk. In addition to other plagues, it was now plain that +he had brought a pauper upon the town of Smyrna. + +"So I call on," she repeated, "and I need a whole new stock of +groc'ries, and something to cook 'em with." + +And still the Cap'n did not speak. He sat considering her, his brows +knitted. + +"I'm a proud woman nat'rally," she went on, "and it's tough to have +to call on 'cause the crowned heads of earth has oppressed the meek +and the lowly." + +Cap'n Sproul trudged across the room, and took down a big book +inscribed "Revised Statutes." He found a place in the volume and +began to read in an undertone, occasionally looking over his specs +at her. + +"It's as I thought it was," he muttered; "when one member of a family, +wife or minor children, call on for town aid, whole family can be +declared paupers till such time as, and so forth." He banged the big +book shut. "Interestin' if true--and found to be true. Law to use +as needed. So you call on, do you, marm?" he queried, raising his +voice. "Well, if you're all ready to start for the poor-farm, come +along." + +"I ain't goin' onto no poor-farm," she squealed. "I call on, but I +want supplies furnished." + +"Overseer of the poor has the say as to what shall be done with +paupers," announced the Cap'n. "I say poor-farm. They need a good, +able-bodied pauper woman there, like you seem to be. The other wimmen +paupers are bedridden." + +"My husband will never let me be took to the poorhouse and kept +there." + +"Oh, there ain't goin' to be any trouble from that side. You're right +in line to be a widder most any time now." + +"Be you goin' to kill 'Liah?" she wailed. + +"It will be a self-actin' proposition, marm. I ain't got any very +special grudge against him, seein' that he's a poor, unfortunate +critter. I'm sorry, but so it is." He went on with great appearance +of candor. "You see, he don't understand the nature of that stuff +he's luggin' round. It goes off itself when it gets about so warm. +It's comin' warmin' weather now--sun gettin' high--and mebbe next +time he starts for the village the bust will come." + +"Ain't any one goin' to warn him?" + +"I can't find it's set down in my duties, marm; and from the acts +of the gen'ral run of cowards in this town I don't reckon any one +else will feel called on to get near enough to him to tell him. Oh +no! He'll fire himself like an automatic bomb. Prob'ly to-morrow. +By the looks of the sky it's goin' to be a nice, warm day." + +She backed to the door, her eyes goggling. + +"I ain't got any hard feelin's at all, marm. I pity you, and here's +a ten-dollar bill that I'll advance from the town. I reckon I'll wait +till after you're a widder before I take you to the poorhouse." + +She clutched the bill and ran out. He watched her scurry down the +street with satisfaction wrinkling under his beard. "It was a kind +of happy idee and it seems to be workin'," he observed. "I've allus +thought I knew enough about cowards to write a book on 'em. We'll +see!" + +That night there were no alarms in Smyrna. Cap'n Sproul, walking to +his office the next forenoon, mentally scored one on the right side +of his calculations. + +When he heard Mr. Luce in the village square and looked out on him, +he scored two, still on the right side. Mr. Luce bore his grisly sack, +but he did not carry a stick of dynamite in his hand. + +"Goin' to put my wife in the poorhouse, hey?" he squalled. + +Cap'n Sproul scored three. "She got at him and unloaded!" he murmured. +"And it fixed him, if I know cowards." + +"She's goin' to be a widder, hey? I'm afeard o' daminite, hey? I'll +show ye!" He swung the sack from his shoulder, and held it up in both +hands for the retreating populace to see. "I jest as soon flam this +whole thing down here in the ro'd. I jest as soon kick it. I jest +as soon set on it and smoke my pipe. I'm an outlaw and I ain't afeard +of it. You use me right and let my wife alone, or I'll show ye." + +Cap'n Sproul, sailor-habit always strong with him, had for a long +time kept one of his telescopes hanging beside a window in the town +office. He took this down and studied the contour of the bumps that +swelled Mr. Luce's sack. His survey seemed to satisfy him. "Tone of +his talk is really enough--but the shape of that bag settles it with +me." + +The next moment all of Smyrna that happened to be in sight of the +scene gasped with horror on beholding the first selectman walk out +of the town house and stalk directly across the square toward the +dynamiter. + +"You go back," screamed Mr. Luce, "or I'll flam it!" + +But no longer was Mr. Luce's tone dauntless and ferocious. The +Cap'n's keen ear caught the coward's note of querulousness, for he +had heard that note many times before in his stormy association with +men. He chuckled and walked on more briskly. + +"I'll do it--I swear I will!" said Mr. Luce, but his voice was only +a weak piping. + +In spite of itself Smyrna stopped, groaned, and squatted where it +stood when Mr. Luce swung the sack and launched it at the intrepid +selectman. As he threw it, the outlaw turned to run. The Cap'n grabbed +the sack, catapulted it back, and caught the fleeing Mr. Luce +squarely between the shoulders; and he went down on his face with +a yell of pain. The next moment Smyrna saw her first selectman kicking +a bleating man around and around the square until the man got down, +lifted up his hands, and bawled for mercy. + +And when Smyrna flocked around, the Cap'n faced them, his fist +twisted in Mr. Luce's collar. + +"This critter belongs in State Prison, but I ain't goin' to send him +there. He's goin' onto our poor-farm, and he's goin' to work for the +first time in his life, and he'll keep to work till he works up some +of the bill he owes this town. He's a pauper because his wife has +called on. But I ain't dependin' on law. I'm runnin' this thing myself. +I've shown ye that I can run it. And if any of you quitters and cowards +have got anything to say why my sentence won't be carried out, now +is the time to say it." + +He glowered into their faces, but no one said anything except Zeburee +Nute, who quavered: "We allus knowed you was the smartest man that +ever came to this town, and--" + +"Close that mouth!" yelped Cap'n Sproul. "It's worse than an open +hatch on a superphosphate schooner." + +"You dare to leave that town farm, you or your wife either," the +selectman went on, giving Mr. Luce a vigorous shake, "and I'll have +you in State Prison as quick as a grand jury can indict. Nute, you +hitch and take him down there, and tell the boss he's to work ten +hours a day, with one hour's noonin', and if he don't move fast enough, +to get at him with a gad." + +Mr. Luce, cowed, trembling, appealing dumbly for sympathy, was +driven away while the first selectman was picking up the sack that +still lay in the village square. Without a moment's hesitation he +slit it with his big knife, and emptied its contents into a hole that +the spring frosts had left. Those contents were simply rocks. + +"In the name of Joanthus Cicero!" gasped Broadway, licking his dry +lips. "How did you figger it?" + +The Cap'n finished kicking the sack down into the hole beside the +rocks, clacked shut his knife-blade, and rammed the knife deep into +his trousers pocket. + +"When you critters here in town get to be grown up to be more than +ten years old," he grunted, surveying the gaping graybeards of Smyrna, +"and can understand man's business, I may talk to you. Just now I've +got something to attend to besides foolishness." + +And he trudged back into the town house, with his fellow-citizens +staring after him, as the populace of Rome must have stared after +victorious Caesar. + + + + +XXXI + + +For some weeks the town of Smyrna had been witnessing something very +like a bear-baiting. + +Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman, again played the role of the +bear, as he had on occasions previous. + +They had stalked him; they had flanked him; they had surrounded him; +they had driven him to centre; he was at bay, bristling with a sullen +rage that was excusable, if viewed from the standpoint of an earnest +town officer. Viewed from the standpoint of the populace, he was a +selfish, cross-grained old obstructionist. + +Here was the situation: By thrift and shrewd management he had +accumulated during his reign nearly enough funds to pay off the town +debt and retire interest-bearing notes. He had proposed to make that +feat the boast and the crowning point of his tenure of office. He +had announced that on a certain day he would have a bonfire of those +notes in the village square. After that announcement he had listened +for plaudits. What he did hear were resentful growls from taxpayers +who now discovered that they had been assessed more than the running +expenses of the town called for; and they were mad about it. The +existence of that surplus seemed to worry Smyrna. There were many +holders of town notes for small amounts, a safe investment that paid +six per cent. and escaped taxation. These people didn't want to be +paid. In many cases their fathers had loaned the money to the town, +and the safe and sound six per cent. seemed an heirloom too sacred +to be disturbed. + +Cap'n Sproul's too-zealous thrift annoyed his townsmen. To have the +town owe money made individual debtors feel that owing money was not +a particularly heinous offence. To have the town free of debt might +start too enterprising rivalry in liquidation. + +Therefore, for the first time in his life, Consetena Tate found one +of his wild notions adopted, and gasped in profound astonishment at +the alacrity of his townsmen. Consetena Tate had unwittingly +stumbled upon a solution of that "surplus" difficulty. He wasn't +thinking of the surplus. He was too utterly impractical for that. +He was a tall, gangling, effeminate, romantic, middle-aged man whom +his parents still supported and viewed with deference as a superior +personality. He was Smyrna's only literary character. + +He made golden weddings gay with lengthy epics that detailed the +lives of the celebrants; he brought the dubious cheer of his verses +to house-warmings, church sociables, and other occasions when Smyrna +found itself in gregarious mood; he soothed the feelings of mourners +by obituary lines that appeared in print in the county paper when +the mourners ordered enough extra copies to make it worth the +editor's while. Added to this literary gift was an artistic one. +Consetena had painted half a dozen pictures that were displayed every +year at the annual show of the Smyrna Agricultural Fair and Gents' +Driving Association; therefore, admiring relatives accepted Mr. +Tate as a genius, and treated him as such with the confident +prediction that some day the outside world would know him and +appreciate him. + +A flicker of this coming fame seemed to dance on Consetena's polished +brow when he wrote a piece for the county paper, heralding the fact +that Smyrna was one hundred years old that year. + +Mr. Tate, having plenty of leisure to meditate on those matters, had +thought of this fact before any one else in town remembered it. He +wrote another article urging that the town fittingly celebrate the +event. The Women's Temperance Workers discussed the matter and +concurred. It would give them an opportunity to have a tent-sale of +food and fancy-work, and clear an honest penny. + +The three churches in town came into the project heartily. They would +"dinner" hungry strangers in the vestries, and also turn an honest +penny. The Smyrna Ancient and Honorable Firemen's Association, Hiram +Look foreman, was very enthusiastic. A celebration would afford +opportunity to parade and hold a muster. + +The three uniformed secret societies in town, having an ever-lurking +zest for public exhibition behind a brass-band, canvassed the +prospect delightedly. The trustees of the Agricultural Fair and +Gents' Driving Association could see a most admirable opening for +a June horse-trot. + +In fact, with those inducements and with motives regarding the +"surplus" spurring them on secretly, all the folks of Smyrna rose +to the occasion with a long, loud shout for the celebration--and +suggested that the "surplus" be expended in making a holiday that +would be worth waiting one hundred years for. + +After that shout, and as soon as he got his breath, the voice of First +Selectman Aaron Sproul was heard. He could not make as much noise +as the others, but the profusion of expletives with which he +garnished his declaration that the town's money should not be spent +that way made his talk well worth listening to. + +It was then that the bear-baiting began. + +Every society, every church, every organization in town got after +him, and Hiram Look--a betrayal of long friendship that touched the +Cap'n's red anger into white heat--captained the whole attack. + +The final clinch was in the town office, the Cap'n at bay like the +boar in its last stronghold, face livid and hairy fists flailing the +scattered papers of his big table. But across the table was Hiram +Look, just as intense, the unterrified representative of the +proletariat, his finger jabbing the air. + +"That money was paid into the treasury o' this town by the voters," +he shouted, "and, by the Sussanified heifer o' Nicodemus, it can be +spent by 'em! You're talkin' as though it was your own private +bank-account." + +"I want you to understand," the Cap'n shouted back with just as much +vigor--"it ain't any jack-pot, nor table-stakes, nor prize put up +for a raffle. It's town money, and I'm runnin' this town." + +"Do you think you're an Emp'ror Nero?" inquired Hiram, sarcastically. +"And even that old cuss wa'n't so skin-tight as you be. He provided +sports for the people, and it helped him hold his job. Hist'ry tells +you so." + +"There ain't any hist'ry about this," the selectman retorted with +emphasis. "It's here, now, present, and up to date. And I can give +you the future if you want any predictions. That money ain't goin' +to be throwed down a rat-hole in any such way." + +"Look here, Cap'n Sproul," said the showman, grinding his words +between his teeth, "you've been talkin' for a year past that they'd +pushed this job of selectman onto you, and that you didn't propose +to hold it." + +"Mebbe I did," agreed the Cap'n. "Most like I did, for that's the +way I feel about it." + +"Then s'pose you resign and let me take the job and run it the way +it ought to be run?" + +"How would that be--a circus every week-day and a sacred concert +Sundays? Judging from your past life and your present talk I don't +reckon you'd know how to run anything any different!" This taunt as +to his life-work in the show business and his capability stirred all +of Hiram's venom. + +"I've come here to tell ye," he raged, "that the citizens of this +town to a man want ye to resign as first selectman, and let some one +in that don't wear brustles and stand with both feet in the trough." + +"That's just the reason I won't resign--because they want me to," +returned the Cap'n with calm decisiveness. "They got behind me when +I wasn't lookin', and picked me up and rammed me into this office, +and I've been wantin' to get out ever since. But I'll be cussed if +I'll get out, now that they're tryin' to drive me out. I'm interested +enough now to stay." + +"Say, did you ever try to drive a hog?" demanded the irate old +circus-man. + +"Yes," said the Cap'n, imperturbably, "I'm tryin' it now--tryin' to +drive a whole litter of 'em away from the trough where they want to +eat up at one meal what it's taken me a whole year to scrape together." + +Persiflage of this sort did not appear to be accomplishing anything. +Hiram relieved his feelings by a smacking, round oath and stamped +out of the town-house. + +As they had done once before in the annals of his office, the other +two selectmen made a party with Sproul's opposers. They signed a call +for a special town-meeting. It was held, and an uproarious +_viva-voce_ vote settled the fate of the surplus. In the rush of +popular excitement the voters did not stop to reflect on the legal +aspects of the question. Law would not have sanctioned such a +disposal of town money, even with such an overwhelming majority +behind the movement. But Cap'n Sproul still held to his ancient and +ingrained fear of lawyers. He remained away from the meeting and let +matters take their course. + +Hiram, still captain of the revolutionists, felt his heart grow +softer in victory. Furthermore, Cap'n Sproul, left outside the pale, +might conquer dislike of law and invoke an injunction. + +The next morning, bright and early, he trudged over to the first +selectman's house and bearded the sullen autocrat in his +sitting-room. He felt that the peace of the Cap'n's home was better +suited to be the setting of overtures of friendship than the angular +interior of the town office. + +"Cap," he said, appealingly, "they've gone and done it, and all the +sentiment of the town is one way in the matter. What's the use of +buckin' your own people as you are doin'? Get onto the band-wagon +along with the rest of us. It's goin' to be a good thing for the town. +It will bring a lot of spenders in here that day. They'll leave money +here. It will be a good time all 'round. It will give the town a good +name. Now, that money is goin' to be spent! I've made you chairman +of the whole general committee--as first selectman. You'll have the +principal say as to how the money is goin' to be spent. As long's +it's goin' to be spent that ought to be some satisfaction to you." + +"You take that money--you and your gang of black-flaggers that has +captured this town on the high seas--and you rub it onto your +carkisses where it will do the most good," snorted the Cap'n. "Light +cigars with it--feed it to your elephant--send it up in a balloon--I +don't give a kihooted dam what you do with it. But don't you try to +enlist me under the skull and cross-bones!" + +After this unpromising fashion did the conference begin. It was in +progress at noon--and Hiram remained to dinner. Breaking bread with +a friend has a consolatory effect--that cannot be denied. When they +were smoking after dinner, the first selectman grudgingly consented +to take charge of spending the money. He agreed finally with Hiram +that with him--the Cap'n--on the safety-valve, mere wasteful +folderols might be avoided--and the first selectman had seen enough +of the temper of his constituents to fear for consequences should +they get their hands into the treasury when he was not standing by. + +"Now," said Hiram, in conclusion, "the committee is well organized. +There's a representative from each of the societies in town to act +with you and advise." + +"I'd ruther try to steer a raft of lashed hen-coops from here to Bonis +Airs and back, under a barkentine rig," snapped the Cap'n. "I know +the kind o' critters they be. We won't get nowhere!" + +"I had to put 'em onto the committee," apologized the people's +representative. "But, you see, you and the secretary will do +practically all the work. All you've got to do is just to make 'em +think they're workin'. But you and the secretary will be the whole +thing." + +"Who is this secretary that I've got to chum with?" demanded the Cap'n, +suspiciously. + +"You see"--Hiram choked and blinked his eyes, and looked away as he +explained--"it sort of had to be done, to please the people, because +he's the feller that thought it up--and he's the only lit'ry chap +we've got in town, and he--" + +Cap'n Sproul got up and held his pipe away from his face so that no +smoke-cloud could intervene. + +"Do you mean to tell me," he raved, "that you've gone to work and +pinned me into the same yoke with that long-legged cross between a +blue heron and a monkey-wrench that started this whole infernal +treasury steal?" + +"Consetena--" began Hiram. + +The Cap'n dashed his clay pipe upon the brick hearth and ground the +bits under his heel. + +"I ain't any hand to make love to Portygee sailors," he cried; "I +don't believe I could stand it to hold one on my knee more'n half +an hour at a time. I don't like a dude. I hate a land-pirut lawyer. +But a critter I've al'ays reckoned I'd kill on sight is a grown man +that writes portry and lets his folks support him. I've heard of that +Concert--whatever his name is--Tate. I ain't ever wanted to see him. +I've been afraid of what might happen if I did. Him and me run this +thing together? Say, look here, Hiram! You say a few more things like +that to me and I shall reckon you're tryin' to give me apoplexy and +get rid of me that way!" + +Hiram sighed. His car of hopes so laboriously warped to the top summit +of success had been sluiced to the bottom. But he understood the +temper of the populace of Smyrna in those piping days better than +Cap'n Sproul did. Consetena Tate was not to be put aside with a wave +of the hand. + +Hiram began again. At first he talked to deaf ears. He even had to +drown out contumely. But his arguments were good! Consetena Tate +could write the many letters that would be necessary. There were many +organizations to invite to town, many prominent citizens of the +county to solicit, for the day would not shine without the presence +of notables. There was all the work of that sort to be done with the +delicate touch of the literary man--work that the Cap'n could not +do. Mr. Tate had earned the position--at least the folks in town +thought he had--and demanded him as the man through whom they could +accomplish all epistolary effects. + +In the end Hiram won the Cap'n over even to this concession. The Cap'n +was too weary to struggle farther against what seemed to be his horrid +destiny. + +"I'll have him at town office to-morrow mornin'," declared Hiram, +grabbing at the first growl that signified submission. "You'll find +him meek and humble and helpful--I know you will." Then he promptly +hurried away before the Cap'n revived enough to change his mind. + +Cap'n Sproul found his new secretary on the steps of the town office +the next morning, and scowled on him. Mr. Tate wore a little black +hat cocked on his shaggy mane, and his thin nose was blue in the crisp +air of early May. He sat on the steps propping a big portfolio on +his knees. His thin legs outlined themselves against his baggy +trousers with the effect of broomsticks under cloth. + +He arose and followed the sturdy old seaman into the office. He sat +down, still clinging to the portfolio, and watched the Cap'n build +a fire in the rusty stove. The selectman had returned no answer to +the feeble attempts that Mr. Tate had made to open conversation. + +"Far asunder your life aims and my life aims have been, Cap'n Sproul," +observed the secretary at last. "But when ships hail each other out +of the darkness--" + +"Three-stickers don't usually luff very long when they're hailed by +punts," grunted the old skipper. + +"There is a common ground on which all may meet," insisted Mr. Tate; +"I frequently inaugurate profitable conversations and lay the +foundations of new friendships this way: Who are your favorite +poets?" + +"Say, now, look here!" blurted the Cap'n, coming away from the stove +and dusting his hard hands together; "you've been rammed into my +throat, and I'm havin' pretty blamed hard work to swallow you. I may +be able to do it if you don't daub on portry. Now, if you've got any +idea what you're here for and what you're goin' to do, you get at +it. Do you know?" + +"I had ventured upon a little plan," said Mr. Tate, meekly. "I thought +that first of all I would arrange the literary programme for the day, +the oration, the poem, the various addresses, and I already have a +little schedule to submit to you. I have a particular request to make, +Cap'n Sproul. I wish that you, as chairman of the committee, would +designate me as poet-laureate of the grand occasion." + +"You can be any kind of a pote you want to," said the selectman, +promptly. "And I'll tell you right here and now, I don't give a +continental thunderation about your programmy or your speech-makers--not +even if you go dig up old Dan'l Webster and set him on the stand. I +didn't start this thing, and I ain't approvin' of it. I'm simply +grabbin' in on it so that I can make sure that the fools of this town +won't hook into that money with both hands and strew it galley-west. +That's me! Now, if you've got business, then 'tend to it! And I'll be +'tendin' to mine!" + +It was not an encouraging prospect for a secretary who desired to +be humble and helpful. Cap'n Sproul busied himself with a little pile +of smudgy account-books, each representing a road district of the +town. He was adding "snow-bills." Mr. Tate gazed forlornly on the +fiercely puckered brow and "plipping" lips, and heard the low growl +of profanity as the Cap'n missed count on a column and had to start +over again. Then Mr. Tate sighed and opened his portfolio. He sat +staring above it at the iron visage of the first selectman, who +finally grew restive under this espionage. + +"Say, look-a-here, Pote Tate," he growled, levelling flaming eyes +across the table, "if you think you're goin' to set there lookin' +at me like a Chessy cat watchin' a rat-hole, you and me is goin' to +have trouble, and have it sudden and have it vi'lent!" + +"I wanted to ask you a question--some advice!" gasped the secretary. + +"Haven't I told you to pick out your business and 'tend to it?" +demanded the Cap'n, vibrating his lead-pencil. + +"But this is about spending some money." + +"Well, mebbe that's diff'runt." The selectman modified his tone. "Go +ahead and stick in your paw! What's this first grab for?" he asked, +resignedly. + +"To make my letters official and regular," explained Mr. Tate, "I've +got to have stationery printed with the names of the committee on +it--you as chairman, per Consetena Tate, secretary." + +"Go across to the printin'-office and have some struck off," directed +the selectman. "If havin' some paper to write on will get you busy +enough so't you won't set there starin' me out of countenance, it +will be a good investment." + +For the next few days Mr. Tate was quite successful in keeping himself +out from under foot, so the Cap'n grudgingly admitted to Hiram. He +found a little stand in a corner of the big room and doubled himself +over it, writing letters with patient care. The first ones he +ventured to submit to the Cap'n before sealing them. But the chairman +of the committee contemptuously refused to read them or to sign. +Therefore Mr. Tate did that service for his superior, signing: +"Capt. Aaron Sproul, Chairman. Per Consetena Tate, Secretary." He +piled the letters, sealed, before the Cap'n, and the latter counted +them carefully and issued stamps with scrupulous exactness. Replies +came in printed return envelopes; but, though they bore his name, +Cap'n Sproul scornfully refused to touch one of them. The stern +attitude that he had assumed toward the Smyrna centennial +celebration was this: Toleration, as custodian of the funds; but +participation, never! + +During many hours of the day Mr. Tate did not write, but sat and gazed +at the cracked ceiling with a rapt expression that made the Cap'n +nervous. The Cap'n spoke of this to Hiram. + +"That feller ain't right in his head," said the selectman. "He sets +there hours at a time, like a hen squattin' on duck-eggs, lookin' +up cross-eyed. I was through an insane horsepittle once, and they +had patients there just like that. I'd just as soon have a bullhead +snake in the room with me." + +"He's gettin' up his pome, that's all," Hiram explained. "I've seen +lit'ry folks in my time. They act queer, but there ain't any harm +in 'em." + +"That may be," allowed the Cap'n, "but I shall be almighty glad when +this centennial is over and I can get Pote Tate out of that corner, +and put the broom and poker back there, and have something sensible +to look at." + +Preparations for the great event went on smartly. The various +societies and interests conferred amicably, and the whole centennial +day was blocked out, from the hundred guns at early dawn to the last +sputter of the fireworks at midnight. And everything and every one +called for money; money for prizes, for souvenirs for entertainment +of visitors, for bands, for carriages--a multitude of items, all to +be settled for when the great event was over. If Cap'n Sproul had +hoped to save a remnant of his treasure-fund he was soon undeceived. +Perspiring over his figures, he discovered that there wouldn't be +enough if all demands were met. But he continued grimly to apportion. + +One day he woke the poet out of the trance into which he had fallen +after delivering to his chairman a great pile of sealed letters to +be counted for stamps. + +"What do I understand by all these bushels of epistles to the +Galatians that you've been sluicin' out?" he demanded. "Who be they, +and what are you writin' to 'em for? I've been lookin' over the names +that you've backed on these envelopes, and there isn't one of 'em +I ever heard tell of, nor see the sense in writin' to." + +Mr. Tate untangled his twisted legs and came over to the table, +quivering in his emotion. + +"Never heard of them? Never heard of them?" he repeated, gulping his +amazement. He shuffled the letters to and fro, tapping his thin +finger on the superscriptions. "Oh, you must be joking, Captain +Sproul, dear sir! Never heard of the poets and orators and _savants_ +whose names are written there? Surely, 'tis a joke." + +"I ain't feelin' in no very great humorous state of mind these days," +returned the Cap'n with vigor. "If you see any joke in what I'm sayin' +you'd better not laugh. I tell ye, I never heard of 'em! Now you answer +my question." + +"Why, they are great poets, authors, orators--the great minds of the +country. They--" + +"Well, they ain't all mind, be they? They're hearty eaters, ain't +they? They'll want three square meals when they get here, won't they? +What I want to know now is, how many thousands of them blasted +grasshoppers you've gone to work and managed to tole in here to be +fed? I'm just wakin' up to the resks we're runnin', and it makes me +sweat cold water." He glanced apprehensively at the papers bearing +his computations. + +"All the replies I have received so far have been regrets," murmured +Mr. Tate, sorrowfully. "I took the greatest names first. I was +ambitious for our dear town, Captain. I went directly to the highest +founts. Perhaps I looked too high. They have all sent regrets. I have +to confess that I have not yet secured the orator of the day nor any +of the other speakers. But I was ambitious to get the best." + +"Well, that's the first good news I've heard since we started on this +lunatic fandango," said the Cap'n, with soulful thanksgiving. "Do +you think there's any in this last mess that 'll be li'ble to come +if they're asked?" + +"I have been gradually working down the scale of greatness, but I'm +afraid I have still aimed too high," confessed Mr. Tate. "Yet the +effort is not lost by any means." His eyes kindled. "All my life, +Captain Sproul, I have been eager for the autographs of great +men--that I might gaze upon the spot of paper where their mighty hands +have rested to write. I have succeeded beyond my fondest dreams. I +have a collection of autograph letters that make my heart swell with +pride." + +"So that's how you've been spendin' the money of this town--writin' +to folks that you knew wouldn't come, so as to get their autographs?" + +He touched the point better than he realized. Poet Tate's face grew +paler. After his first batch of letters had brought those returns +from the regretful great he had been recklessly scattering +invitations from the Atlantic to the Pacific--appealing invitations +done in his best style, and sanctioned by the aegis of a committee +headed by "Captain Sproul, Chairman." Such unbroken array of +declinations heartened him in his quest, and he was reaping his +halcyon harvest as rapidly as he could. + +"I was going to put them on exhibition at the centennial, and make +them the great feature of the day," mumbled the poet, apologetically. + +"So do! So do!" advised the Cap'n with bitter irony. "I can see a +ramjam rush of the people away from the tub-squirt, right in the +middle of it, to look at them autographs. I can see 'em askin' the +band to stop playin' so that they can stand and meditate on them +letters. It'll bust up the hoss-trot. Folks won't want to get away +from them letters long enough to go down to the track. I wish I'd +'a' knowed this sooner, Pote Tate. Take them letters and your pome, +and we wouldn't need to be spendin' money and foolin' it away on the +other kind of a programmy we've got up! Them Merino rams from Vienny, +Canaan, and surroundin' towns that 'll come in here full of hell and +hard cider will jest love to set down with you and study autographs +all day!" + +Mr. Tate flushed under the satire by which the Cap'n was expressing +his general disgust at Smyrna's expensive attempt to celebrate. He +exhibited a bit of spirit for the first time in their intercourse. + +"The literary exercises ought to be the grand feature of the day, +sir! Can a horse-trot or a firemen's muster call attention to the +progress of a hundred years? I fear Smyrna is forgetting the main +point of the celebration." + +"Don't you worry any about that, Pote," snapped the selectman. "No +one round here is losin' sight of the main point. Main point is for +churches and temperance workers and wimmen's auxiliaries to sell as +much grub as they can to visitors, and for citizens to parade round +behind a brass-band like mules with the spring-halt, and to spend +the money that I had ready to clear off the town debt. And if any +one thinks about the town bein' a hundred years old, it'll be next +mornin' when he wakes up and feels that way himself. You and me is +the losin' minority this time, Pote. I didn't want it at all, and +you want it something diff'runt." He looked the gaunt figure up and +down with a little of the sympathy that one feels for a fellow-victim. +Then he gave out stamps for the letters. "As long as it's got to be +spent, this is about the innocentest way of spendin' it," he +muttered. + + + + +XXXII + + +As the great occasion drew nearer, Mr. Tate redoubled his epistolary +efforts. He was goaded by two reasons. He had not secured his notables +for the literary programme; he would soon have neither excuse nor +stamps for collecting autographs. He descended into the lower levels +of genius and fame. He wound up his campaign of solicitation with +a stack of letters that made the Cap'n gasp. But the chairman gave +out the stamps with a certain amount of savage satisfaction in doing +it, for some of the other hateful treasury-raiders would have to go +without, and he anticipated that Poet Tate, suggester of the piracy, +would meet up with proper retribution from his own ilk when the +committee in final round-up discovered how great an inroad the +autograph-seeker had made in the funds. The Cap'n had shrewd +fore-vision as to just how Smyrna would view the expenditure of money +in that direction. + +For the first time, he gazed on his secretary with a sort of kindly +light in his eyes, realizing and relishing the part that Consetena +was playing. On his own part, Poet Tate welcomed this single gleam +of kindly feeling, as the Eskimo welcomes the first glimpse of the +vernal sun. He ran to his portfolio. + +"I have it finished, Captain!" he cried. "It is the effort of my life. +To you I offer it first of all--you shall have the first bloom of +it. It begins"--he clutched the bulky manuscript in shaking +hands--"it begins: + + "Ethereal Goddess, come, oh come, I pray, + And press thy fingers, on this festal day, + Upon my fevered brow and--" + +"May I ask what you're settin' about to do, there?" inquired Cap'n +Sproul, balefully. + +"It is my poem! I am about to read it to you, to offer it to you as +head of our municipality. I will read it to you." + +The Cap'n waited for the explanation patiently. He seemed to want +to make sure of the intended enormity of the offence. He even +inquired: "How much do you reckon there is of it?" + +"Six thousand lines," said Mr. Tate, with an author's pride. + +"Pote Tate," he remarked, solemnly, "seein' that you haven't ever +been brought in very close touch with deep-water sailors, and don't +know what they've had to contend with, and how their dispositions +get warped, and not knowin' my private opinion of men-grown potes, +you've set here day by day and haven't realized the chances you've +been takin'. Just one ordinary back-handed wallop, such as would only +tickle a Portygee sailor, would mean wreaths and a harp for you! Thank +God, I haven't ever forgot myself, not yet. Lay that pome back, and +tie them covers together with a hard knot." + +The Cap'n's ominous calm, his evident effort to repress even a loud +tone, troubled Poet Tate more than violence would have done. He took +himself and his portfolio away. As he licked his stamps in the +post-office he privately confided to the postmistress his conviction +that Cap'n Sproul was not exactly in his right mind at all times, +thus unconsciously reciprocating certain sentiments of his chairman +regarding the secretary's sanity. + +"I don't think I'll go back to the office," said Mr. Tate. "I have +written all my letters. All those that come here in printed envelopes +for Captain Sproul I will take, as secretary." + +At the end of another ten days, and on the eve of the centennial, +Mr. Tate had made an interesting discovery. It was to the effect that +although genius in the higher altitudes is not easily come at, and +responds by courteous declinations and regrets, genius in the lower +levels is still desirous of advertising and an opportunity to shine, +and can be cajoled by promise of refunded expenses and lavish +entertainment as guest of the municipality. + +The last batch of letters of invitation, distributed among those +lower levels of notability, elicited the most interesting autograph +letters of all; eleven notables accepted the invitation to deliver +the oration of the day; a dozen or so announced that they would be +present and speak on topics connected with the times, and one and +all assured Captain Aaron Sproul that they thoroughly appreciated +his courtesy, and looked forward to a meeting with much pleasure, +and trusted, etc., etc. + +Poet Tate, mild, diffident, unpractical Poet Tate, who in all his +life had never been called upon to face a crisis, did not face this +one. + +The bare notion of going to Cap'n Aaron Sproul and confessing made +his brain reel. The memory of the look in the Cap'n's eyes, evoked +by so innocent a proposition as the reading of six thousand lines +of poetry to him, made Mr. Tate's fluttering heart bang against his +ribs. Even when he sat down to write a letter, making the confession, +his teeth chattered and his pen danced drunkenly. It made him so faint, +even to put the words on paper, that he flung his pen away. + +A more resourceful man, a man with something in his head besides +dreams, might have headed off the notables. But in his panic Poet +Tate became merely a frightened child with the single impulse to flee +from the mischief he had caused. With his poem padding his thin chest, +he crept out of his father's house in the night preceding the great +day, and the blackness swallowed him up. Uneasy urchins in the +distant village were already popping the first firecrackers of the +celebration. Poet Tate groaned, and fled. + +Cap'n Aaron Sproul arrived at the town office next morning in a frame +of mind distinctly unamiable. Though his house was far out of the +village, the unearthly racket of the night had floated up to +him--squawking horns, and clanging bells, and exploding powder. The +hundred cannons at sunrise brought a vigorous word for each +reverberation. At an early hour Hiram Look had come over, gay in his +panoply as chief of the Ancient and Honorables, and repeated his +insistent demand that the Cap'n ride at the head of the parade in +an imported barouche, gracing the occasion as head of the +municipality. + +"The people demand it," asseverated Hiram with heat. "The people have +rights over you." + +"Same as they had over that surplus in the town treasury, hey?" +inquired the Cap'n. "What's that you're luggin' in that paper as +though 'twas aigs?" + +"It's one of my plug hats that I was goin' to lend you," explained +his friend, cheerily. "I've rigged it up with a cockade. I figger +that we can't any of us be too festal on a day like this. I know you +ain't no ways taken to plug hats; but when a man holds office and +the people look to him for certain things, he has to bow down to the +people. We're goin' to have a great and glorious day of this, Cap," +he cried, all his showman's soul infected by gallant excitement, and +enthusiasm glowing in his eyes. It was a kind of enthusiasm that Cap'n +Sproul's gloomy soul resented. + +"I've had consid'able many arguments with you, Hiram, over this +affair, first and last, and just at present reck'nin' I'm luggin' +about all the canvas my feelin's will stand. Now I won't wear that +damnation stove-funnel hat; I won't ride in any baroosh; I won't make +speeches; I won't set up on any platform. I'll simply set in town +office and 'tend to my business, and draw orders on the treasury to +pay bills, as fast as bills are presented. That's what I started out +to do, and that's all I will do. And if you don't want to see me jibe +and all go by the board, you keep out of my way with your plug hats +and barooshes. And it might be well to inform inquirin' friends to +the same effect." + +He pushed away the head-gear that Hiram still extended toward him, +and tramped out of the house and down the hill with his sturdy +sea-gait. Dodging firecrackers that sputtered and banged in the +highway about his feet, and cursing soulfully, he gained the town +office and grimly sat himself down. + +He knew when the train from down-river and the outside world had +arrived by the riotous accessions to the crowds without in the square. +Firemen in red shirts thronged everywhere. Men who wore feathered +hats and tawdry uniforms filled the landscape. He gazed on them with +unutterable disgust. + +A stranger awakened him from his reverie on the vanities of the world. +The stranger had studied the sign + + SELECTMEN'S OFFICE + +and had come in. He wore a frock coat and shiny silk hat, and inquired +whether he had the pleasure of speaking to Captain Aaron Sproul, +first selectman of Smyrna. + +"I'm him," said the Cap'n, glowering up from under knotted eyebrows, +his gaze principally on the shiny tile. + +"I was just a little surprised that there was no committee of +reception at the station to meet me," said the stranger, in mild +rebuke. "There was not even a carriage there. But I suppose it was +an oversight, due to the rush of affairs to-day." + +The Cap'n still scowled at him, not in the least understanding why +this stranger should expect to be carted into the village from the +railroad. + +"I will introduce myself. I am Professor William Wilson Waverley, +orator of the day; I have had some very pleasant correspondence with +you, Captain Sproul, and I'm truly glad to meet you face to face." + +"You've got the advantage of me," blurted the Cap'n, still dense. +"I never heard of you before in my life, nor I never wrote you any +letter, unless I got up in my sleep and done it." + +With wonderment and some irritation growing on his face, the stranger +pulled out a letter and laid it before the Cap'n. + +The selectman studied it long enough to see that it was an earnest +invitation to honor the town of Smyrna with a centennial oration, +and that the town would pay all expenses; and the letter was signed, +"Captain Aaron Sproul, First Selectman and Chairman of Committee, +Per Consetena Tate, Secretary." + +"I never saw that before," insisted the Cap'n. + +"Do you mean that you disown it?" + +"No, I reckon it's all official and regular. What I just said about +not havin' seen it before might have sounded a little queer, but +there's an explanation goes with it. You see, it's been this way. +I--" + +But at that moment fully a score of men filed into the office, all +of them with set faces and indignant demeanors. The Cap'n was not +well posted on the breed of literati, but with half an eye he noted +that these were not the ordinary sort of men. There were more silk +hats, there were broad-brimmed hats, there was scrupulousness in +attire, there was the disarray of Bohemianism. And it was plainly +evident that these later arrivals had had word of conference with +each other. Each held a "Per Consetena Tate" letter in his hand. + +"I have met with some amazing situations in my time--in real life +and in romance," stated a hard-faced man who had evidently been +selected as spokesman. "But this seems so supremely without parallel +that I am almost robbed of expression. Here are ten of us, each having +the same identical letter of invitation to deliver the oration of +the day here on this occasion." + +"Ten, did you say? Eleven," said the first-comer. "Here is my +letter." + +"And the others have invitations to deliver discourses," went on the +spokesman, severely. "As your name is signed to all these letters, +Captain Aaron Sproul, first selectman of Smyrna, perhaps you will +deign to explain to us what it all means." + +Cap'n Sproul arose and then sat down; arose and sat down again. He +tried to speak, but only a husky croak came forth. Something seemed +to have crawled into his throat--something fuzzy and filling, that +would not allow language to pass. + +"Here are more than twenty prominent men, seduced from their manifold +duties, called away up here to satisfy the rural idea of a joke--or, +at least, I can see no other explanation," proceeded the hard-faced +man. "It might be remarked in passing that the joke will be an +expensive one for this town. Eleven distinguished men called here +to deliver one oration in a one-horse town!" + +The Cap'n did not like the bitter irony of his tone, and recovered +his voice enough to say, + +"You might cut the cards or spit at a crack, gents, to see which one +does deliver the oration." But the pleasantry did not evoke any smile +from that disgusted assemblage. + +"It is safe to say that after this hideous insult not one of us will +speak," declared one of the group. "But I for one would like some +light on the insane freak that prompted this performance. As you are +at the head of this peculiar community, we'd like you to speak for +it." + +Somewhat to his own surprise, Cap'n Sproul did not find in himself +any especially bitter animosity toward Mr. Tate, just then, search +his soul as he might. + +These "lit'ry fellows," cajoled by one of their own ilk into this +unspeakable muddle, were, after all, he reflected, of the sort he +had scorned with all his sailor repugnance to airs and pretensions. +Cap'n Sproul possessed a peculiarly grim sense of humor. This +indignant assemblage appealed to that sense. + +"Gents," he said, standing up and propping himself on the table by +his knuckles, "there are things in this world that are deep mysteries. +Of course, men like you reckon you know most everything there is to +be known. But you see that on the bottom of each letter you have, +there are the words: 'Per Consetena Tate.' There's where the mystery +is in this case." + +"I imagine it isn't so deep a mystery but that we can understand it +if you will explain," said the spokesman, coldly. + +"There's where you are mistaken," declared the Cap'n. "It would take +a long time to tell you the inside of this thing, and even then you +wouldn't know which, what, or whuther about it." In his heart Cap'n +Sproul was resolved that he would not own up to these strangers the +part his own negligence had played. He reflected for his consolation +that he had not projected the centennial celebration of Smyrna. It +occurred to him with illuminating force that he had pledged himself +to only one thing: to pay the bills of the celebration as fast as +they were presented to him. Consetena Tate was the secretary the town +had foisted on his committee. Consetena Tate had made definite +contracts. His lips twisted into a queer smile under his beard. + +"Gents," he said, "there isn't any mystery about them contracts, +however. This town pays its bills. You say no one of you wants to +orate? That is entirely satisfactory to me--for I ain't runnin' that +part. I'm here to pay bills. Each one of you make out his bill and +receipt it. Then come with me to the town treasurer's office." + +The tumultuous throngs that spied Cap'n Sproul leading that file of +distinguished men to Broadway's store--Broadway being treasurer of +Smyrna--merely gazed with a flicker of curiosity and turned again +to their sports, little realizing just what effect that file of men +was to have on the financial sinews of those sports. Cap'n Sproul +scarcely realized it himself until all the returns were in. He simply +hoped, that's all! And his hopes were more than justified. + +"My Gawd, Cap'n," gasped Odbar Broadway when the notables had +received their money and had filed out, "what does this mean? There +ain't more'n a hundred dollars left of the surplus fund, and there +ain't any of the prizes and appropriations paid yet! Who be them +plug-hatters from all over God's creation, chalkin' up railroad +fares agin us like we had a machine to print money in this town?" + +"Them vouchers is all right, ain't they?" demanded the Cap'n. "Them +vouchers with letters attached?" + +"Yes, they be," faltered the treasurer. + +"So fur as who strangers may be, you can ask Pote Consetena Tate, +secretary, about that. They're lit'ry gents, and he's done all the +official business with them." + +Broadway stared at him, and then began to make some hasty figures. + +"See here, Cap'n," he said, plaintively, "there's just about enough +of that fund left to settle the committee bill here at my store. Have +I got to share pro raty?" + +"Pay yourself and clean it out. I'll countersign your bill," declared +the chairman, cheerfully. "If there ain't any fund, I can go home. +I'm infernal sick of this hellitywhoop noise." + +And he trudged back up the hill to the quietude of his farm, with +deep content. + +He had been some hours asleep that night when vigorous poundings on +his door awoke him, and when at last he appeared on his piazza he +found a large and anxious delegation of citizens filling his yard. + +"Cap'n," bleated one of the committee, "Broadway says there ain't +any money to pay prizes with." + +"Vouchers is all right. Money paid on contracts signed by your +official secretary, that you elected unanimous," said the Cap'n, +stoutly. + +"We know it," cried the committeeman, "but we don't understand it." + +"Then hunt up the man that made the contracts--Pote Tate," advised +the selectman. "All the business I've done was to pay out the money. +You know what stand I've took right along." + +"We know it, Cap'n, and we ain't blamin' you--but we don't understand, +and we can't find Consetena Tate. His folks don't know where he is. +He's run away." + +"Potes are queer critters," sighed the Cap'n, compassionately. He +turned to go in. + +"But how are we goin' to get the money to pay up for the sports, the +fireworks, and things?" + +"Them that hires fiddlers and dances all day and night must expect +to pay said fiddlers," announced the Cap'n, oracularly. "I reckon +you'll have to pass the hat for the fiddlers." + +"If that's the case," called the committeeman, heart-brokenly, +"won't you put your name down for a little?" + +"Since I've had the rheumatiz I ain't been any hand at all to dance," +remarked the Cap'n, gently, through the crack of the closing door. + +And they knew what he meant, and went away down the hill, as sober +as the cricket when he was departing from the door of the thrifty +ant. + + + + +XXXIII + + +First Selectman Sproul halted for a few moments on the steps of the +town house the next morning in order to gaze out surlily on the +left-overs of that day of celebration. Smyrna's village square was +unsightly with a litter of evil-smelling firecracker remnants, with +torn paper bags, broken canes, dented tin horns and all the usual +flotsam marking the wake of a carnival crowd. + +Constable Nute came tramping to him across this untidy carpeting and +directed his attention to the broken windows in the town house and +in other buildings that surrounded the square. + +"Actions of visitin' firemen, mostly," explained the constable, +gloomily. "Took that way of expressin' their opinion of a town that +would cheat 'em out of prize-money that they came down here all in +good faith to get. And I don't blame 'em to any great extent." + +"Nor I, either," agreed the Cap'n with a readiness that surprised +Mr. Nute. "A town that doesn't pay its bills ought to be ashamed of +itself." + +The constable backed away a few steps and stared at this amazing +detractor. + +"I paid bills prompt and honest just as long as there was any money +to pay 'em with," the Cap'n went on. "There's nothin' on _my_ +conscience." + +"Yes, but who did you pay the money to?" complained Nute, voicing +the protest of Smyrna. "The least you could have done was to make +them plug-hatters share pro raty with the fire-company boys--and the +fire-company boys furnished the show; them plug-hatters didn't." + +"It's always been my rule to pay a hundred cents on the dollar, and +I paid the hundred cents so long as the cash lasted. Go hunt up your +Pote Tate if you want to know why the plug-hatters had a good claim." + +"He's back, Tate is, and we made him explain, and this town had no +business in givin' a cussed fool like him so much power. If I had +cut up the caper he has I'd have stayed away, but he's back for his +folks to support him some more. He didn't even have gumption enough +to beg vittles." + +"Well, this town has had a hearty meal, and all is I hope it won't +feel hungry for celebrations till it's time for the next centennial," +observed the Cap'n. "There's one thing about this affair that I'm +goin' to praise--it was hearty and satisfyin'. It has dulled the +celebratin' appetite in this town for some time." He went into town +office. + +The constable followed and laid a paper before him. It was a petition +of citizens for a special town-meeting; and there being a sufficient +number of names on the paper, it became a matter of duty for Cap'n +Sproul to call the meeting prayed for. + +He quietly proceeded to draw up the necessary notice. Nute evidently +expected that the Cap'n would promptly understand the meaning of the +proposed meeting and would burst into violent speech. But the +selectman hummed an old sea chanty while he hunted for a blank, and +smiled as he penned the document. + +"Committee has been to Squire Alcander Reeves to get some law on the +thing," proceeded Nute, disappointed by this lack of interest in +affairs. "Reeves says that since the show was advertised as a town +shindig the town has got to stand behind and fid up for the money +that's shy. Says it ain't supposed to fall on the committees to pay +for what the town's beholden for." + +"Let 'em go ahead and settle it to suit all hands," remarked the first +selectman, amiably. "As the feller used to sing in the dog-watch: + + "'Says Jonah, addressin' the whale, "I wish + You'd please take notice that I like fish." + Says the whale to Jonah, "It's plain to see + That you are goin' to agree with me."'" + +A considerable gathering of the taxpayers of Smyrna had been waiting +on the platform of Odbar Broadway's store for the first selectman +to appear and open the town office. Hiram Look had marshalled them +there. Now he led them across the square and they filed into the +office. + +The Cap'n did not look up until he had finished his work on the notice. +He handed the paper to Nute with orders to post it after the +signatures of the two associate selectmen had been secured. + +Then to his surprise Hiram Look received an extremely benignant smile +from the Cap'n. + +"You ain't objectin' any to the special town-meetin', then?" +inquired Hiram, losing some of his apprehensiveness. + +"I'm callin' it as quick as the law will let me--and happy to do so," +graciously returned the first selectman. + +Hiram took off his tall hat with the air of one who has been invited +to remain, after anticipating violent rebuff. + +"You know, don't you, what the voters want this special meetin' for?" + +"Sartin sure," cried the Cap'n. "Got to have money to square up bills +and take the cuss off'm this town of welchin' on a straight +proposition to outsiders who came down here all in good faith after +prizes." + +"Exactly," cried Hiram, glowing. "Didn't I always tell you, boys, +that though Cap'n Aaron Sproul might be a little gruff and a bit short, +sea-capt'in fashion, he was all right underneath?" + +There was a mumble of assent. + +"There ain't a first selectman in this State that has shown any more +science in handlin' his job than Cap'n Aaron Sproul of this town." + +"When you come to remember back how he's grabbed in and taken the +brunt every time there's been anything that needed to be handled +proper, you've got to admit all what you've said, Mr. Look," assented +another of the party. + +"We know now that it was by Tate forgin' your name and runnin' things +underhanded that the town got into the scrape it did," Hiram went +on. "Them bills had to be paid to keep outsiders slingin' slurs at +us. You done just right. The town will have to meet and vote more +money to pay the rest of the bills. But probably it won't come as +hard as we think. What I was goin' to ask you, Cap'n Sproul, was +whether there ain't an overplus in some departments? We can use that +money so far's it'll go." + +"Pauper department has something extry," stated the first selectman, +dryly. "I was thinkin' of buyin' a new furnace for the poor-farm, +but we can let the paupers shiver through another winter so's to pay +them squirtin' prizes to the firemen." + +"We don't want to do anything that ain't just accordin' to Hoyle," +said Hiram, flushing a little, for he sensed the satire. "We'll meet +and vote the money and then we can sit back and take comfort in +thinkin' that there's just the right man at the head of town affairs +to economize us back onto Easy Street." He was eager to flatter. "This +town understands what kind of a man it wants to keep in office. I +take back all I ever said about opposin' you, Cap'n." + +"And that's the general sentiment of the town," affirmed Odbar +Broadway. + +The face of the first selectman did not indicate that he was +especially gratified. + +"That is to say," he inquired grimly, "after I've fussed, figured, +and struggled for most of two years to save money and pay off the +debts of this town and have had the cash yanked away from me like +honey out of a hive, I'm supposed to start in all over again and do +a similar job for this town on a salary of sixty dollars a year?" + +"We don't feel you ought to put it just that way," objected Hiram. + +"That's the way it suits me to put it. You can do it to me once--you +have done it--but this is where this partickler little busy bee stops +makin' honey for the town of Smyrna to lap up at one mouthful. That +special town-meetin' comes along all handy for me. You notice I ain't +objectin' to havin' it held." + +Constable Nute, who had been looking puzzled ever since the selectman +had signed the call for the meeting, perked up with the interest of +one who is about to hear a mystery explained. + +"For," the Cap'n went on, "I was goin' to call one on my own hook +so that I can resign this office. I serve notice on you now that when +this town touches dock at that meetin' I step ashore with my little +dunnage bag on my back." + +"The town won't let you do it," blazed Hiram. + +"I was shanghaied aboard. You want to be careful, all of ye, how you +gather at the gangway when I start to walk ashore! It's fair warnin'. +Take heed of it!" + +There was an expression on his weather-worn countenance that checked +further expostulation. Hiram angrily led them out after a few +muttered expletives. + +"I've heard of contrary tantryboguses in my time," stated Broadway +when they were back at his store, "but that feller over there has +got all of 'em backed into the stall. This town better wake up. We've +let ourselves be bossed around by him as though Smyrna was rigged +out with masts and sails and he was boss of the quarter-deck. Give +me a first selectman that has got less brustles." + +It was the first word of a general revolt. It is the nature of man +to pretend that he does not desire what he cannot get. The voters +of Smyrna took that attitude. + +On the eve of the projected town-meeting Hiram Look strolled over +to call on his friend Sproul. The latter had been close at home for +days, informing his loyal wife that for the first time since he had +settled ashore he was beginning to appreciate what peace and quiet +meant. + +"I don't know how it happened," he informed Hiram, "how I ever let +myself be pull-hauled as much as I've been. Why, I haven't had time +allowed me to stop and consider what a fool and lackey I was lettin' +'em make of me. When I left the sea I came ashore with a hankerin' +for rest, comfort, and garden sass of my own raisin', and I've been +beatin' into a head wind of hoorah-ste-boy ever since. From now on +I'll show you a man that's settled down to enjoy life!" + +"That's the right way for you to feel," affirmed Hiram. "You take +a man that holds office and the tide turns against him after a while. +It's turned against you pretty sharp." + +"Don't see how you figger that," returned the Cap'n with complacency. +"I'm gettin' out just the right time. Time to leave is when they're +coaxin' you to stay. If I'd stayed in till they got to growlin' around +and wantin' to put me out I'd have to walk up and down in this town +like Gid Ward does now--meechin' as a scalt pup. That's why I'm takin' +so much personal satisfaction in gettin' out--they want to keep me +in." + +"You ought to travel out around this town a little," returned his +friend, grimly. "The way they're talkin' now you'd think they was +goin' to have bonfires and a celebration when they get rid of you. +Hate to hurt your feelin's, but I'm only reportin' facts, and just +as they're talkin' it. Bein' a friend I can say it to your face." + +The expression of bland pride faded out of Cap'n Sproul's face. For +a moment he seemed inclined to doubt Hiram's word in violent terms. +A few words did slip out. + +The old showman interrupted him. + +"Go out and sound the pulse for yourself. I never lied to you yet. +You've cuffed the people around pretty hard, you'll have to admit +that. Take a feller in politics that undertakes to boss too much, +and when the voters do turn on him they turn hard. They've done it +to you. They're glad you're goin' out. You couldn't be elected +hog-reeve in Smyrna to-day." + +The Cap'n glared at him, voiceless for the moment. + +"I know it hurts, but I'm tellin' you the truth," Hiram went on, +remorselessly. "If they don't stand up and give three cheers in +town-meetin' to-morrow when you hand in your resignation I'll be much +surprised." + +"Who's been lyin' about me?" demanded the first selectman. + +"It ain't that way at all! Seems like the town sort of woke up all +of a sudden and realized it didn't like your style of managin'. The +way you acted when the delegation came to you put on the finishin' +touch. Now, Aaron, you don't have to take my word for this. Prob'ly +it doesn't interest you--but you can trot around and find out for +yourself, if it does." + +The first selectman, his eyes gleaming, the horn of gray hair that +he twisted in moments of mental stress standing straight up, rose +and reached for his hat. + +"Mutiny on me, will they?" he growled. "We'll jest see about that!" + +"Where are you goin', Aaron?" asked the placid Louada Murilla, +troubled by his ireful demeanor. + +"I'm goin' to find out if this jeebasted town is goin' to kick me +out of office! They'll discover they haven't got any Kunnel Gid Ward +to deal with!" + +"But you said you were out of politics, Aaron!" Dismay and grief were +in her tones. "I want you for myself, husband. You promised me. I +don't want you to go back into politics." + +"I hain't ever been out of politics yet," he retorted. "And if there +are any men in this town that think I'm down and out they'll have +another guess comin'." + +He marched out of the house, leaving his visiting friend in most +cavalier fashion. + +Hiram stared after him, meditatively stroking his long mustache. + +"Mis' Sproul," he said at last, "you take muddy roads, wet grounds, +balky animils, fool rubes, drunken performers, and the high price +of lemons, and the circus business is some raspy on the general +disposition. But since I've known your husband I've come to the +conclusion that it's an angel-maker compared with goin' to sea." + +"You had no business tellin' him what you did," complained the wife. +"You ought to understand his disposition by this time." + +"I ought to, but I see I don't," acknowledged the friend. He scrubbed +his plug hat against his elbow and started for the door. "I'd been +thinkin' that if ever I'd run up against a man that really wanted +to shuck office that man was your husband. I reckoned he really knew +what he wanted part of the time." + +"Can't you go after him and make him change his mind back?" she +pleaded. + +"The voters of this town will attend to that. I was tellin' him the +straight truth. If he don't get it passed to him hot off the bat when +he tackles 'em, then I'm a sucker. You needn't worry, marm. He'll +have plenty of time to 'tend to his garden sass this summer." + +It was midnight when Cap'n Sproul returned to an anxious and waiting +wife. He was flushed and hot and hoarse, but the gleam in his eye +was no longer that of offended pride and ireful resolve. There was +triumph in his glance. + +"If there's a bunch of yaller dogs think they can put me out of office +in this town they'll find they're tryin' to gnaw the wrong bone," +he declared hotly. + +"But you had told them you wouldn't take the office--you insisted +that you were going to resign--you said--" + +"It didn't make any diff'runce what I said--when I said it things +was headed into the wind and all sails was drawin' and I was on my +course. But you let some one try to plunk acrost my bows when I'm +on the starboard tack, and have got right of way, well, more or less +tophamper is goin' to be carried away--and it won't be mine." + +"What have you done, Aaron?" she inquired with timorous solicitude. + +"Canvassed this town from one end to the other and by moral suasion, +the riot act, and a few other things I've got pledges from +three-quarters of the voters that when I pass in my resignation +to-morrow they'll vote that they won't accept it and will ask me to +keep on in office for the good of Smyrna. This town won't get a chance +to yoke me up with your brother Gid and point us out as a steer team +named 'Down and Out!' He's 'Down' but I ain't 'Out' yet, not by a +dam--excuse me, Louada Murilla! But I've been mixin' into politics +and talkin' political talk." + +"And I had so hoped you were out of it," she sighed, as she followed +him to their repose. + +She watched him make ready and depart for town hall the next morning +without comment, but the wistful look in her eyes spoke volumes. +Cap'n Sproul was silent with the air of a man with big events fronting +him. + +She watched the teams jog along the highway toward the village. She +saw them returning in dusty procession later in the forenoon--signal +that the meeting was over and the voters were returning to their +homes. + +In order to beguile the monotony of waiting she hunted up the +blank-book in which she had begun to write "The Life Story of Gallant +Captain Aaron Sproul." She read the brief notes that she had been +able to collect from him and reflected with bitterness that there +was little hope of securing much more data from a man tied up with +the public affairs of a town which exacted so much from its first +selectman. + +Upon her musings entered Cap'n Sproul, radiant, serene. He bent and +kissed her after the fashion of the days of the honeymoon. + +"Whew!" he whistled, sitting down in a porch chair and gazing off +across the blue hills. "It's good to get out of that steam and stew +down in that hall. I say, Louada Murilla, there ain't in this whole +world a much prettier view than that off acrost them hills. It's a +good picture for a man to spend his last days lookin' at." + +"I'm afraid you aren't going to get much time to look at it, husband." +She fondled her little book and there was a bit of pathos in her voice. + +"Got all the time there is!" + +There was a buoyancy in his tones that attracted her wondering +attention. + +"They wouldn't accept that resignation," he said with great +satisfaction. "It was unanimous. Them yaller dogs never showed +themselves. Yes, s'r, unanimous, and a good round howl of a hurrah +at that! Ought to have been there and seen the expression on Hiram's +face! I reckon I've shown him a few things in politics that will last +him for an object-lesson." + +"I suppose they'll want to keep you in for life, now," she said with +patient resignation. "And I had so hoped--" + +She did not finish. He looked at her quizzically for a little while +and her expression touched him. + +"I was intendin' to string the agony out and keep you on tenter-hooks +a little spell, Louada Murilla," he went on. "But I hain't got the +heart to do it. All is, they wouldn't accept that resignation, just +as I've told you. It makes a man feel pretty good to be as popular +as that in his own town. Of course it wasn't all love and abidin' +affection--I had to go out last night and temper it up with politics +a little--but you've got to take things in this world just as they're +handed to you. I stood up and made a speech and I thanked 'em--and +it was a pretty good speech." + +He paused and narrowed his eyes and dwelt fondly for a moment on the +memory of the triumph. + +"But when you're popular in a town and propose to spend your last +days in that town and want to stay popular and happy and contented +there's nothin' like clinchin' the thing. So here's what I done there +and then, Louada Murilla: I praised up the voters of Smyrna as bein' +the best people on earth and then I told 'em that, havin' an interest +in the old town and wantin' to see her sail on full and by and all +muslin drawin' and no barnacles of debt on the bottom, I'd donate +out of my pocket enough to pay up all them prizes and purses +contracted for in the celebration--and then I resigned again as first +selectman. And I made 'em understand that I meant it, too!" + +"Did they let you resign?" she gasped. + +"Sure--after a tussle! But you see I'd made myself so popular by that +time that they'd do anything I told 'em to do, even to lettin' me +resign! And there's goin' to be a serenade to me to-night, Hiram +Look's fife and drum corps and the Smyrna Ancients leadin' the parade. +Last thing I done down-town was order the treat." + +He nested his head in his interlocked fingers and leaned back. + +"Louada Murilla, you and me is goin' to take solid comfort from now +on--and there's nothin' like bein' popular in the place where you +live." He glanced sideways at the little blank-book. + +"We've been kind of neglectin' that, hain't we, wife? But we're goin' +to have a good, long, cozy, chatty time together now! Make a note +of this: One time when I was eleven days out from Boston with a cargo +of woodenware bound to Australia, we run acrost a--" + + + + +THE END + + + + + +End of Project Gutenberg's The Skipper and the Skipped, by Holman Day + +*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE SKIPPER AND THE SKIPPED *** + +***** This file should be named 16631.txt or 16631.zip ***** +This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: + https://www.gutenberg.org/1/6/6/3/16631/ + +Produced by Ron Swanson + +Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions +will be renamed. + +Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no +one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation +(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without +permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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