[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

BYHOLMAN DAY

AUTHOR OF"THE RAMRODDERS""KING SPRUCE" ETC. 

ILLUSTRATED

NEW YORK AND LONDONHARPER & BROTHERS PUBLISHERSMCMXI

BOOKS BYHOLMAN DAY

THE SKIPPER AND THE SKIPPED. Post 8vo . . $1. 50THE RAMRODDERS. Post 8vo . . . . . . . . $1. 50KING SPRUCE. Ill'd. Post 8vo . . . . . . $1. 50THE EAGLE'S BADGE. Ill'd. Post 8vo . . . $1. 25

HARPER & BROTHERS, PUBLISHERS, N. Y. 

COPYRIGHT, 1911. BY HARPER & BROTHERSPRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICAPUBLISHED FEBRUARY, 1911

THE SKIPPER AND THE SKIPPED

I

Cap'n Aaron Sproul, late skipper of the _Jefferson P. Benn_, sat bythe bedside of his uncle, "One-arm" Jerry, and gazed into thelatter's dimming eyes. 

"It ain't bein' a crowned head, but it's honer'ble, " pleaded the sickman, 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-downswifter'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' ontofifty-six now. I've licked every kind in the sailorman line, froma 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_ thisminute with a marlinespike in my hand, and op'nin' a fresh packageof language. "

"But you ain't fit for the sea no longer, " mumbled One-arm Jerrythrough 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'mme and resigned, " agreed the Cap'n. "I tell ye, good skippers ain'tborn ev'ry minute--and they knowed it. I've been turnin' 'em in tenper cent. On her, and that's good property. I've got an eighth intoher myself, and with a man as good as I am to run her, I shouldn'tneed to worry about doin' anything else all my life--me a single manwith no one dependent. I reckon I'll sell. Shipmasters ain't whatthey used to be. "

"Better leave it where it is, " counselled Jerry, his cautious thriftdominating 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 thesea 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 maybe a come-down for a man that's had men under him all his life, butit amounts to more'n five hundred a year, sure and stiddy. It'ssomething to do, and you couldn't stand it to loaf--you that's alwaysbeen so active. It ain't reskin' anything, and with all the passin'and the meetin' folks, and the gossipin' and the chattin', and allthat, all your time is took up. It's honer'ble, it's stiddy. Leaveyour money where it is, take my place, and keep this job in thefamily. "

The two men were talking in a little cottage at the end of a longcovered bridge. A painted board above the door heralded the fact thatthe 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 outof the world, " went on Uncle Jerry. "You're my only rel'tive. I'mleavin' you the three thousand I've accumulated. I want to leave youthe job, too. I--"

A hoarse hail outside interrupted. The Cap'n, scowling, shuffled outand came in, jingling some pennies in his brown hand. 

"I feel like a hand-organ monkey every time I go out there, " hemuttered. 

"I tell ye, " protested the old man, as earnestly as his feeblenesswould permit, "there's lots of big business in this world that don'tneed so long a head as this one does--bein' as how you're goin' torun it shipshape. You need brains; that you do, nephy. It'll keepyou studyin' all the time. When you git interested in it you ain'tnever goin' to have time to be lonesome. There's the plain hello folksto be treated one way, the good-day folks, the pass-the-time-o'-dayfolks, the folks that need the tip o' the hat--jest for politeness, and not because you're beneath 'em, " he hastened to add, noting theskipper's scowl; "the folks that swing up to the platform, the folksthat you've got to chase a little, even if it is muddy; the folksthat 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 payat all--and I tell ye, nephy, there's where your work is cut out forye! I've only had one arm, but there's mighty few that have ever doneme out of toll, and I'm goin' to give ye a tip on the old bell-wetherof 'em all. I'm goin' to advise ye to stand to one side and let himpass. 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 uponhis elbow. He choked. The nurse came and laid him back with gentleremonstrance. Before he had regained his voice to talk more theminister came, obeying a summons of grave import. Then came One whosealed One-arm Jerry's lips and quieted the fingers that had beenpicking at the faded coverlet as though they were gathering pennies. 

And a day later, half sullenly, the Cap'n accepted the propositionof the directors of the bridge company, who had said some veryflattering things to him about the reliability of the Sproul family. He reflected that he was far enough from tide-water to avoid themariners who had known him in his former state. "I'll dock and repairriggin', " he pondered. "It's a come-down, but I'll clear and cruiseagain 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 thelittle cottage where the skipper, with seaman's facility inhousekeeping, set up bachelor's hall. 

He grudgingly allowed to himself that he was going to like it. Thesun beamed blandly warm on the little bench before the toll-house. His rheumatism felt better. People commented admiringly on such ofthe curios as were displayed in the windows of the cottage. And whenthe parrots--"Port" and "Starboard"--ripped out such remarks as"Ahoy!" "Heave to!" "Down hellum!" and larded the conversation withhorrible oaths, the wayfarers professed to see great humor in theperformance. 

In a little while the parrots would squall as soon as a travellerappeared at the brow of the river hill or poked out from the dim depthsof the covered bridge. Even when the Cap'n was busy in his littlekitchen he never failed to receive due notice of the approach ofpersons either in wagons or on foot. 

"It will be a good man who runs toll on this bridge, " he mused oneday, 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'thave 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. Ifthere was ever a man that scart him, and kept him scart till the dayhe died, then I'd like to see that same. It will be for me to showhim 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 willowsthere was the growing rattle of wheels. The Cap'n cocked his head. His seaman's instinct detected something stormy in that impetuousapproach. He fixed his gaze on the bend of the road. 

Into sight came tearing a tall, gaunt horse, dragging a wagon equallytall and gaunt. The horse was galloping, and a tall man in the wagonstood up and began to crack a great whip, with reports like a pistolfusillade. 

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 "rheumatizspeak up, " but a stride that carried him safely to his platform. Theteam roared past. The big whip swished over his head, and the snapperbarked in his ear. He got one fleeting glimpse at the man who wasdriving--a man with a face as hard as a pine knot. His lips were rolledaway from his yellow teeth in a grimace that was partly a grin, partlya sneer. A queer, tall, pointed cap with a knob on its top was perchedon his head like a candle-snuffer on a taper. With a shrill yell andmore crackings of his whip he disappeared into the gloomy mouth ofthe covered bridge, and the roaring echoes followed him. 

The skipper stood looking first at the mouth of the bridge and thenat 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 diedaway, "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 andslowly filled his pipe, his gaze still on the bridge opening. As hecrooked his leg and dragged the match across the faded blue of histrousers 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 figgerit, he owes me ten cents' toll and three dollars' fine-money, makin'a total of three ten, to be charged and collected, as I understandit. "

When he had got his pipe to going, after some little gruntings, hepulled 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, andthen stood up to receive toll from a farmer who drove slowly out fromthe bridge, his elbows on his knees, his horse walking slouchily. 

"If it ain't no great output to you, mister, to tell, do you happento know who was the nub of that streak of wind and cuss-words thatjest 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 overhis shoulder as he turned his head. 

"There ain't no joke to this!" roared the skipper. But the man kepton. 

Another patron emerged from the bridge, digging from his trouserspocket. 

"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 fastI didn't know him, neither. " He drove on, though the Cap'n hobbledafter him, shouting strong language, in which the parrots joined. 

"You needn't try to make me think that there ain't nobody who don'tknow the Kun'l, " was the retort the man flung over his shoulder. 

"Nice and accommodatin' class of paternage that's passin', " growledthe Cap'n, kicking an inoffensive chair as he came back to hisplatform. "They talk about him as though he was Lord Gull and rulerof the stars. Jest as though a man that had sailed deep water allhis days knowed all the old land-pirut's 'round here!"

It was a pedestrian--Old Man Jordan, bound to the village with a fewpats 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 secondsto tell me the name of that critter. "

He made a clutch to one side, and then remembered with a flush thathe was no longer in reach of a spike-rack. 

"Why, that was Kun'l Gideon Ward, " faltered Uncle Jordan, impressedat last by the Cap'n's fury. "I thought ye knew. "

"Thought! Thought! Why, ye never thought in your life. You onlythought you thought. I dunno no more who you mean by 'Kun'l GideonWard' 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 hiresmore men than any one else. He ain't never been downed in a tradeor a fight yet. He's got double teeth, upper and lower, all the wayround, drinks kairosene in the winter 'cause it's more warmin' thanrum, 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'sbeen what you might call a stand-off for a good many years. Best thingis to let him run toll. That's what your uncle thought. I reckonedyou knew all about Kun'l Gid Ward. Why, everybody knows--"

"Say, you let up on that string right now and here, " snorted theCap'n. 

Old Man Jordan trotted away. 

While the skipper was still pondering on the matter of ColonelWard--the meditation had lasted over into the next day--there wasa roar on the bridge, and the subject of his reflections passed ina swirl of dust on his return trip. He was standing up in his wagonas before, and he saluted the indignant toll-man with a flick of hiswhip that started the dust from the latter's pea-jacket. 

"He's been over to the home place to see his sister Jane, " volunteeredUncle Jordan, again on his way to the village with eggs. "She ain'tnever got married, and he ain't never got married. Old Squire Wardleft his whole property to the two of 'em, and the Kun'l ain't everlet 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 havemy half out and git married to some nice man, and git a little comfortout'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'srisin' 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 OldMan Jordan, hooking his bucket upon his arm and shambling away. 

For several days Cap'n Sproul was busy about the gable end of thebridge during his spare moments and hours, climbing up and down theladder, and handling a rope and certain pulleys with sailor dexterity. All the time his grim jaw-muscles ridged his cheeks. When he hadfinished he had a rope running through pulleys from the big gate upover the gable of the bridge and to the porch of the toll-house. 

"There, " he muttered, with great satisfaction, "that's the firstbear-trap I ever set, and it ain't no extra sort of job, but I reckonwhen old grizzly goes ag'inst it he'll cal'late that this 'ere isa toll-bridge. "

Then came days of anxious waiting. Sometimes a teamster's shouts tohis horses up around the willows sent the Cap'n hobbling to the endof the rope. An unusual rattling in the bridge put him at his postwith his teeth set and his eyes gleaming. 

II

One day a mild and placid little woman in dove-gray came walking fromthe bridge and handed over her penny. She eyed the skipper withinterest, and cocked her head with the pert demureness of a sparrowwhile 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 moreof the peppersass tang to it than ladies us'ly enjoys. "

The little woman gave a chirrup at the birds, and, to the skipper'sutter astonishment, both Port and Starboard chirruped back sociably. Port then remarked: "Pretty Polly!" Starboard chirruped a few cheerybars from "A Sailor's Wife a Sailor's Star Should Be. " Then bothparrots rapped their beaks genially against the bars of the cagesand beamed on the lady with their little button eyes. 

"Well, I swow!" ejaculated the Cap'n, rubbing his knurly forefingerunder his nose, and glancing first at the parrots and then at thelady. "If that ain't as much of an astonisher as when the scuttle-buttdanced a jig on the dog-vane! Them two us'ly cusses strangers, nomatter what age or sect. They was learnt to do it. " He gazeddoubtfully at the birds, as though they might possibly bedeteriorating 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 youhave 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 folleredthe sea was nearer than shore-folks us'ly be. Took my dunnage aboardat fourteen, master at twenty-four, keel-hauled by rheumatiz atfifty-six--wouldn't be here if it wasn't for that. I ain't stuck ona penny-flippin' job of this sort. "

"I should think it would be very pleasant after all the storms andthe tossings. And yet the sea--the sea, the glorious sea--has alwayshad 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 atmy home. Being a single lady, I've had no one to talk to me or takeme about. I have read books about the ocean, but I've never had anychance to hear a real and truly mariner tell about the wonderful wasteof 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 inanother 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 havenever had much chance to talk with any man--I mean any sailor. I havebeen 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 clearinghis throat preparatory to yarning a bit. The frank admiration andtrustful innocence in the eyes of the pretty woman touched him. 

"I suppose you have been out at sea in some awful storms, Cap'n. Ioften think of the sailormen at sea when the snow beats against thewindow and the winds howl around the corner. "

"The wu'st blow I ever remember, " began the skipper, leaning backand hooking his brown hands behind his head like a basket, "was mysecond trip to Bonis Airis--general cargo out, to fetch back hides. It was that trip we found the shark that had starved to death, andthat was a story that was worth speakin' of. It--"

There was a hoarse bellow of "Giddap!" up behind the willows. Theninto sight came galloping the tall, gaunt horse of Colonel GideonWard. The Colonel stood up, smacking his whip. 

With one leap the Cap'n was at his rope, and began to haul in handover 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'scoming! You'll break his neck!"

The gate was already half shut, and the doughty skipper kept onpulling at the rope. 

"Can't help it, ma'am, if it's the apostle Paul, " he gritted. "Thereain'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 hishands, 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 nowrunning so madly under the whip that there was no such thing aschecking him. With a crash of splintering wood he drove breast-onagainst the gate, throwing up his bony head at the end of his scraggyneck. At the crash the woman screamed and covered her eyes. But theoutfit was too much of a catapult to be stopped. Through the gateit went, and the wagon roared away through the bridge, the driveryelling 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 fromunder his knotted eyebrows. "Speakin' of your pets, I should reckonthat 'ere brother of yourn wa'n't one that you had tamed down fitto be turned loose. But you tell him for me, the next time you seehim, that I'll plug the end of that bridge against him if it takesev'ry dum cent of the prop'ty I'm wuth--and that's thutty thousanddollars, if it's a cent. I ain't none of your two-cent chaps!" heroared, visiting his wrath vicariously on her as a representativeof the family. "I've got money of my own. Your brother seems to havemade door-mats out'n most of the folks round here, but I'll tell yethat 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. "Ihope you won't feel too bitter against him. It would be awful--heso 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, youhave good judgment, Cap'n. My brother is hot-headed. Every one knowsthat you are a brave man. You can afford to let him go over the bridgewithout--"

"Never!" the skipper howled, in his best sea tones. "You're the lastwoman 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 restain't got any spunk, I have. You'll be one brother out if he comesslam-bangin' this way ag'in. "

She looked at him appealingly for a moment, then tiptoed over thefragments of the gate, and hurried away through the bridge. 

"You ain't no iron-clad, Kun'l Ward, " muttered Sproul. "I'll holdye 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 approachof passers. 

But the next day, when he was nailing the saplings to make a trulyBrobdingnagian grid, one of the directors of the bridge companyappeared 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 Wardwith our property is another matter. It's like fighting a bear withyour fists. And even if you killed the bear, the hide wouldn't beworth the damage. He has got too many ways of hurting us, Cap'n. Hehas always had his own way in these parts, and he probably alwayswill. Let him go. We won't get the toll, nor the fines, but we'llhave our bridge left. "

"I was thinking of resigning this job, " returned the Cap'n; "it wasnot 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 intoa sapling birch and leaving it there, "I'll fill away on anothertack. "

For the next two weeks, as though to exult in his victory, the Colonelmade many trips past the toll-house. 

He hurled much violent language at the Cap'n. The Cap'n, reinforcedwith his vociferous parrots, returned the language with greatenthusiasm and volubility. 

Then came the day once more when the little woman sat down in a chairin 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 doingwhat I asked of you. You are the first man that ever put away selfishpride and did just what I asked. "

The seaman started to repudiate vigorously, but looked into herbrimming eyes a moment, choked, and was silent. 

"Yes, sir, you're what I call noble, not to pay any attention to theboasts 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 atthe word of a poor woman. And a true gentleman, too. There are onlya few real gentlemen in the world, after all. "

The Cap'n slid his thumb into the armhole of his waistcoat and swelledhis chest out a little. 

"There was no man ever come it over me, and some good ones have triedit, ma'am. So fur as women goes, I ain't never been married, but Ireckon I know what politeness to a lady means. "

She smiled at him brightly, and with such earnest admiration thathe felt a flush crawling up from under his collar. He blinked at herand looked away. Starboard, with an embarrassing aptness that issometimes displayed by children, whistled a few bars of "A Sailor'sWife a Sailor's Star Should Be. "

"I don't mind owning up to you that my brother has imposed upon mein a great many ways, " said the little lady, her eyes flashing. "Ihave endured a good deal from him because he is my brother. I knowjust how you feel about him, Cap'n, and that's why it makes me feelthat we have a--a sort of what you might call common interest. I don'tknow 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'tseem to help it. You truly do seem like an old friend, you have beenso willing to do what I asked of you, after you had time to thinkit over. "

The Cap'n was now congratulating himself that he hadn't blurted outanything about the bridge director and that sapling fence. Itcertainly 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 youradventures. "

She had all the instincts of Desdemona, did that pretty little lady. Three times that week she came to the toll-house and listened withlips apart and eyes shining. Cap'n Sproul had never heard of Othelloand his wooing, but after a time his heart began to glow under thereverent regard she bent on him. Never did mutual selection morenaturally come about. She loved him for the perils he had braved, and he--robbed of his mistress, the sea--yearned for just suchcompanionship as she was giving him. He had known that life lackedsomething. This was it. 

And when one day, after a stuttering preamble that lasted a full halfhour, he finally blurted out his heart-hankering, she wept a littlewhile on his shoulder--it being luckily a time when there was no onepassing--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 twowords. 

"Then there ain't nothin' more to say, little woman. You ain't neverhad 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 ofmy own. But your interests bein' my interests after this, you handev'rything over to me, and I'll put a twist in the tail of that Bengaltiger 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 shoulderand a cheery word in her ear. 

It was Old Man Jordan who, a week or so later, on his way to the villagewith butter in his bucket, stood in the middle of the road and tossedhis arms so frenziedly that Colonel Ward, gathering up his speedbehind the willows, pulled up with an oath. 

"Ye're jest gittin' back from up-country, ain't ye?" asked UncleJordan. 

"What do you mean, you old fool, by stoppin' me when I'm busy? Whatbe ye, gittin' items for newspapers?"

"No, Kun'l Ward, but I've got some news that I thought ye might liketo hear before ye went past the toll-house this time. Intentionsbetween 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 steppedto one side just in time, for the gaunt horse sprung under the lashas though he had the wings of Pegasus. 

The Cap'n was sitting in front of the toll-house. The tall horsegalloped down the hill, but the Colonel stood up, and, with elbowsakimbo and hands under his chin, yanked the animal to a standstill, his splay feet skating through the highway dust. The Colonel leapedover 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 wastrying his best to work out of his throat, the Cap'n pulled his littlenote-book out of his pocket and slowly drawled:

"I reckoned as how ye might find time to stop some day, and I've gotyour account all figgered. You owe thirteen tolls at ten cents each, one thutty, and thirteen times three dollars fine--the wholeamountin' to jest forty dollars and thutty cents. Then there's a gateto--"

"I'm goin' to kill you right in your tracks where you stand!" bellowedthe 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 outof 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'mtalkin'. 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 'roundhired men and abused weak wimmen-folks. I knowed you was a cowardwhen I got that line on ye. You don't dast to stand up to a man likeme. I'll split your head for a cent. " He kept advancing step by step, his mien absolutely demoniac. "I've married your sister because shewanted me. Now I'm goin' to take care of her. I've got thutty thousanddollars 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 knowthat 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 threatmeant. 

"But there ain't no need of a fight in the fam'ly--and I want youto 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 hisanger. 

"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 theCap'n. "These forced lickidations to settle estates is somethingawful when the books ain't been kept any better'n yours. I shouldn'tbe a mite surprised to find that the law would get a nab on you forcheatin' your poor sister. "

Again the Colonel's face grew white. 

"All is, " continued the Cap'n, patronizingly, "if we can keep it allin 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 youjest 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'nessthe rest of our lives, and that's on the square, cent for cent. Wemight as well settle that p'int now. Fix up that toll bill, or it'sall off. I won't go into business with a man that don't pay his honestdebts. "

He came forward with his hand out. 

The Colonel paid. 

"Now, " said the Cap'n, "seein' that the new man is here, ready totake 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 asthey drove away. 

"I didn't have any idee, Colonel, I was goin' to like it so well onshore as I do. Of course, you meet some pleasant and some unpleasantpeople, but that sister of yours is sartinly the finest woman thatever trod shoe-leather, and it was Providunce a-speakin' to me whenshe--"

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, MarmGossip gabbled in Smyrna until flecks of foam gathered in the cornersof her mouth. 

But when Cap'n Aaron Sproul, late of the deep sea, so promptly, somasterfully married Col. Gideon Ward's sister--after the irascibleColonel had driven every other suitor away from that patientlady--and then gave the Colonel his "everlasting comeuppance, " andsettled down in Smyrna as boss of the Ward household, that eventnearly wore Gossip's tongue into ribbons. 

"I see'd it from a distance--the part that happened in front of thetoll-house, " said Old Man Jordan. "Now, all of ye know that Kun'lGid 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 yourr'yal Peeruvian ragin' lions--of wherever they come from--why, thatCap'n Sproul could back a 'Rabian caterwouser right off'mCaterwouser Township! I couldn't hear what was said, but I see Kun'lGid, hoss-gad and all, backed right up into his own wagon; and Cap'nSproul got in, and took the reins away from him as if he'd been apindlin' ten-year-old, and drove off toward the Ward home place. Andthat Cap'n don't seem savage, nuther. "

"Wal, near's I can find out, " said Odbar Broadway from behind hiscounter, 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'lGid'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 knotinto the tail of 'most any kind of a temper. "

"I'm told the Cap'n is makin' her a turrible nice husband, " observedone of the store loungers. 

Broadway folded his specs into their case and came from behind thecounter. 

"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 thatthe 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 vesselprop'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, andbossed 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 ingood 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 officeof 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 thestorekeeper. "Any man that can put Kun'l Gid Ward where he belongsis 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 hisbland and blissful days up under the shade of the big maple in theWard dooryard, smoking his pipe, and gazing out over the expanse ofmeadow and woodland stretching away to the horizon. 

Most of the time his wife was at his elbow, peering with a speciesof adoration into his browned countenance as he related his talesof the sea. She constantly carried a little blank-book, its ribbonlooped about her neck, and made copious entries as he talked. Shehad 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 steeredthis way. Louada Murilla, " said the Cap'n one day, pausing to relighthis pipe. 

He had insisted on renaming his wife "Louada Murilla, " and she hadpatiently accepted the new name with the resignation of her patientnature. But the name pleased her after her beloved lord hadexplained. 

"I was saving that name for the handsomest clipper-ship that moneycould build, " he said. "But when I married you, little woman, I gotsomething better than a clipper-ship; and when you know sailorman'snatur' better, you'll know what that compliment means. Yes, Providunce sent me here, " continued the Cap'n, poking down histobacco with broad thumb. "There I was, swashin' from Hackenny tot'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 somethingsensibler than dropped stitches and croshayed lamp-mats. Near's Ican find out about your 'sociates round here, you would have got morereal 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 marriedcompanion. And I reckon that two more suiteder persons never starteddown the shady side--holt of hands, hey?"

He caught her hands and pulled her near him, and she bent down andkissed his weather-beaten forehead. 

At that instant Col. Gideon Ward came clattering into the yard inhis tall wagon. He glared at this scene of conjugal affection, andthen lashed his horse savagely and disappeared in the direction ofthe barn. 

"I read once about a skelington at a feast that rattled his dry bonesevery time folks there started in to enjoy themselves, " said theCap'n, after he watched the scowling Colonel out of sight. "For thelast two weeks, Louada Murilla, it don't seem as if I've smacked youor you've smacked me but when I've jibed my head I've seen that ga'ntbrother-in-law o' mine standing off to one side sourer'n a home-madecucumber pickle. "

"It's aggravatin' for you, I know it is, " she faltered. "But I'vebeen thinkin' that perhaps he'd get more reconciled as the time goeson. "

"Reconciled?" snapped the Cap'n, a little of the pepper in his naturecoming to the surface. "If it was any one but you little woman, thattalked about me as though I was death or an amputated leg in thisfamily, I'd get hot under the collar. But I tell ye, we ain't gotmany years left to love each other in. We started pritty late. Wecan't afford to waste any time. And we can't afford to have the edgetaken off by that Chinese image standin' around and makin' faces. I've been thinkin' of tellin' him so. But the trouble is with me thatwhen I git to arguin' with a man I'm apt to forgit that I ain't onshipboard and talkin' to a tar-heel. "

He surveyed his brown fists with a certain apprehensiveness, asthough they were dangerous parties over whom he had no control. 

"I should dretfully hate to have anything come up between you andGideon, Cap'n, " she faltered, a frightened look in her brown eyes. "It wouldn't settle anything to have trouble. But you've been aboutso much and seen human nature so much that it seems as though youcould handle him different than with--with--"

"Poundin' him, eh?" Smiles broke over the skipper's face. "See howI'm softened, little woman!" he cried. "Time was when I would havechased a man that made faces at me as he done just now, and I'd havepegged 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'ssomething for a shipmaster to say, now, I'll tell ye! A man has gotto 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 Ithink perhaps it ain't love, knowin' what I do now--but he's beenengaged to Pharlina Pike goin' on fifteen years. And he's beenshowin' her attentions longer'n that. But since I've met you andfound out how folks don't usually wait so long if they--they're inlove--well, I've--"

"Fifteen years!" he snorted. "What is he waitin' for--for her to growup?"

"Land sakes, no! She's about as old as he is. She's old Seth Pike'sdaughter, and since Seth died she has run the Pike farm with hiredhelp, and has done real well at it. Long engagements ain't thoughtstrange of 'round here. Why, there's--"

"Fifteen years!" he repeated. "That's longer'n old Methus'lumcourted. "

"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 wasgettin' on well, and--"

"There ain't no excuse for him, " broke in the Cap'n, with vigor. Hewas 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 impetuouscourtship, when even her dread of her ogre brother had been overborneby 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 himbe 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, "andleave 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 anoffer for the stumpage on township number eight. Seein' that you'rein equal partners with me on my sister's money, " he sneered, "I reckonI've got to give ye figures and prices, and ask for a permit to runmy 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 peculiarlyaggravating 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'vegot something more important to talk about than stumpage. Money andbusiness ain't much in this world, after all, when you come to knowthere's something diff'runt. Love is what I'm referrin' to. Word hasjest come to me that you're in love, too, the same as I am. "

The gaunt Colonel glared malevolently down on the sturdy figuresprawling in the garden chair. The Cap'n's pipe clouds curled abouthis head, and his hands were stuffed comfortably into his trouserspockets. His face beamed. 

"Some might think to hear you talk that you was a soft old fool thathad gone love-cracked 'cause a woman jest as soft as you be has showedyou some attention, " choked the Colonel. "But I know what you'rehidin' under your innocent-Abigail style. I know you're ajill-poke. "

"A what?" blandly asked Sproul. 

"That's woods talk for the log that makes the most trouble on thedrive--and it's a mighty ornery word. "

"Er--something like 'the stabboard pi-oogle, ' which same is aseafarin' term, and is worse, " replied the Cap'n, with bland interestin this philological comparison. "But let's not git strayed off'mthe 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 insultthe father and mother that gave it to her by tackin' on another. I'vetold ye so once; I tell ye so--"

"Louada Murilla, " went on the Cap'n, taking his huge fists out ofhis pockets and cocking them on his knees, not belligerently, butin a mildly precautionary way, "told me that you had been engagedto a woman named Phar--Phar--"

"Oh, give her any name to suit ye!" snarled the Colonel. "That's whatye're doin' with wimmen round here. "

"You know who I mean, " pursued Sproul, complacently, "seein' thatyou've had fifteen years to study on her name. Now, bein' as I'm oneof the fam'ly, I'm going to ask you what ye're lally-gaggin' alongfor? Wimmen don't like to be on the chips so long. I am speakin' toyou like a man and a brother when I say that married life is whatthe poet says it is. It's--"

"I've stood a good deal from you up to now!" roared Ward, coming closeand leaning over threateningly. "You come here to town with so muchtar 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 yourfingers into my business in her name--but that's jest about as furas you can go with me. There was only one man ever tried to adviseme about gitting married--and he's still a cripple. There was no manever tried to recite love poetry to me. You take fair warnin'. "

"Then you ain't willin' to listen to my experience, considerin' thatI'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 upwistfully. 

"It means that I take ye by your heels and snap your head off, " raspedWard, tucking his sleeves away from his corded wrists. "You ain'tgot your club with you this time. "

The Cap'n sighed resignedly. 

"Now, " went on the Colonel, with the vigorous decision of a man whofeels that he has got the ascendency, "you talk about something thatamounts to something. That stumpage on number eight is mostly cedarand hackmatack, and I've got an offer from the folks that wantsleepers for the railroad extension. "

He went on with facts and figures, but the Cap'n listened with onlylanguid interest. He kept sighing and wrinkling his brows, as thoughin deep rumination on a matter far removed from the stumpage question. When the agreement of sale was laid before him he signed with ablunted lead-pencil, still in his trance. 

"Northin' but a cross-cut saw with two axe-handles for legs, " he saidto himself, his eyes on the Colonel's back as that individual stampedwrathfully away. "Teeth and edge are hard as iron! It's no good totalk mattermony to him. Prob'ly it wouldn't do no good for me to talkmattermony to Phar--Phar--to t'other one. She couldn't ask him togo git a minister. 'Tain't right to put that much onto a woman'sshoulders. The trouble with him is that he's too sure of wimmen. Hadhis sister under his thumb all them years, and thought less and lessof her for stayin' there. He's too sure of t'other. Thinks nobodyelse wants her. Thinks all he's got to do is step round and git hersome day. Ain't got no high idee of wimmen like I have. Thinks theyought to wait patient as a tree in a wood-lot. Has had things toomuch his own way, I say. Hain't never had his lesson. Thinks nobodyelse don't want her, hey? And she can wait his motions! He needs hislesson. Lemme see!"

With his knurly forefinger at his puckered forehead he sat andpondered. 

He was very silent at supper. 

The Colonel, still exulting in his apparent victory, said manysneering and savage things, and clattered his knife truculently onhis plate. Sproul merely looked at him with that wistfulpreoccupation 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 uponthin ice to test it, the Colonel craftily set about regaining, inch by inch, his lost throne as tyrant. Occasionally he checkedhimself in some alarm, to wonder what meant that ridging of theCap'n's jaw-muscles, and whether he really heard the seaman's teethgritting. Once, when he recoiled before an unusually demoniac glarefrom Sproul, the latter whined, after a violent inward struggle:

"It beats all how my rheumaticks has been talkin' up lately. I don'tseem to have no ginger nor spirit left in me. I reckon I got awayfrom the sea jest in time. I wouldn't even dare to order a niggerto swab decks, the way I'm feelin' now. "

"You've allus made a good deal of talk about how many men you'vehandled in your day, " said the Colonel, tucking a thumb under hissuspender and leaning back with supercilious cock of his grayeyebrows. "It's bein' hinted round town here more or less that you'renorthin' but bluff. I don't realize, come to think it over, how Iever 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 theColonel's espionage, under the big maple in the yard. A man who waspassing in the highway paused and leaned on the fence. 

"Can one of you gents tell me, " he asked, "where such a lady as MissPhar"--he consulted a folded paper that he held in hishand--"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. Buthe did not speak. He referred the matter to Ward with a jab of histhumb. 

"What do you want to know where Miss Pike lives for?" demanded theColonel, 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 confidentialair, as though he were proposing to impart the secret of the Colonel'sacerbity, "Colonel Ward here is--"

"You go 'long two miles, swing at the drab school-house, and go tothe second white house on the left-hand side of the road!" shoutedWard, hastily breaking in on the explanation. His thin cheeks flushedangrily. The man shuffled on. 

"Why don't you print it on a play-card that I'm engaged to PharlinaPike 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 thingsin this world ain't none of your business?"

The Cap'n sighed with the resigned air that he had been displayingduring 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 thisfam'ly as you've done? It's time now for you and me to git to areck'nin'. There's blamed liars round here snick'rin' in theirwhiskers, and sayin' that you've backed me down. Now--"

Another man was at the fence, and interrupted with aggravatingdisregard of the Colonel's intentness on the business in hand. Thisstranger was short and squat, stood with his feet braced wide apart, and had a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. His broad face worea cheery smile. 

"I've beat nor'west from the railroad, fetched a covered bridge onthe 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 thathe's sayin', put in human language?"

"I'm chartered for port--port"--he also referred to a foldedpaper--"to port Furliny Pike, som'eres in this latitude. Give mep'ints o' compass, will ye?"

Ward leaped to his feet and strode toward the fence, his long legsworking like calipers. 

"What do ye want of Pharline Pike?" he demanded, angrily. 

"None of your business, " replied the cheerful sailor. "If this isthe way landlubbers take an honest man's hail, ye're all jest as badas 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, andI'll climb your main riggin' and dance a jig on that dog-vane of ahead of yourn. "

This alacrity for combat clearly backed down Ward. In his rampageouslife his tongue had usually served him better than his fists. 

"Avast, shipmate!" called the Cap'n, in his best sea tones. Thesailor beamed delighted recognition of marine masonry. "The fact ofthe 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 thentake 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 trampthat I'm engaged to Pharline Pike, " growled Ward, returning to thetree, "I'd 'a' broke in your head--and you might as well know it firstas 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 shallcontinner to tell it. If you're ashamed to have it knowed that you'reengaged to Pharlina Pike, then it's time she heard so. I'd jest assoon tell her as not. "

"I started to say to you, " raged Ward, "that you'd stuck your fingerinto my pie altogether too deep. I ain't killed as many sailors asyou'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 nearenough 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 atthe elbows, and a fuzzy plug-hat, was tapping his cane against oneof 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 ofdirection. But I want to say, as a lowly follower of the Lord--inevangelical lines--that it is not seemly for two men to quarrel inpublic. "

Ward had been gaping at him in amazement. 

"I can tell ye right now, " he cried, "that Miss Pharline Pike ain'thirin' no farm-hand that wears a plug-hat! There ain't no need ofyour goin' to her place. "

"My dear sir, " smiled the decayed gentleman, "it is a delicate matternot to be canvassed in public; but I can assure you that I shall notremain with Miss Pike as a menial or a bond-servant. Oh no! Not byany means, sir!"

Ward scruffed his hand over his forehead, blinking with puzzledastonishment. 

"I'll thank you for the directions, " said the stranger. "They werenot able to give me exact instructions at the village--at least, Icannot remember them. "

"I ain't no dadfired guide-board to stand here all day and p'int theway to Pharline Pike's, " roared Ward, with a heat that astonishedthe decayed gentleman. 

"I don't want no elder to go away from this place and report thathe wa'n't used respectful, " said Sproul, meekly, addressing thestranger. "You'll have to excuse Colonel Ward here. P'r'aps I cansay for him, as a pertickler friend, what it wouldn't be modest forhim to say himself. The fact is, he's en--"

The infuriated Ward leaped up and down on the sward and shrieked theroad instructions to the wayfarer, who hustled away, castingapprehensive glances over his shoulder. 

But when the Colonel turned again on the Cap'n, the latter rose andhobbled 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'. Jestthink of what that elder said!"

Ward planted himself upon a garden chair, and gazed down the roadin the direction in which the strangers had gone. He seemed to bethinking deeply, and the Cap'n watched him from behind one of thefront-room curtains. 

Two more men passed up the road. At the first, the Colonel flourishedhis arms and indulged in violent language, the gist of which the Cap'ndid not catch. He ran to the fence when the second accosted him, toreoff 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 aroseas though to come in. But he sat down and continued to gaze in thedirection of Pharlina Pike's house. 

It was late in the afternoon when a woman came hurrying down the slopethrough the maple-sugar grove. The Cap'n, at his curtain with hiskeen sea eye, saw her first. He had been expecting her arrival. Heknew her in the distance for Pharlina Pike, and realized that shehad 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 houseas quick's you can!"

She had come up behind him, and he leaped out of his chair with asnap like a jack-in-the-box. 

"There's somethin' on, and I knowed it!" he squalled. "What be themmen peradin' past here to your house for, and tellin' me it ain'tnone of my business? You jest tell me, Pharline Pike, what you meanby 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 myeyes! You do know, too!"

"It's a turrible thing to be jealous, " cooed Cap'n Sproul to histrembling little wife, who had followed at his heels. 

"I don't know, either, " wailed the spinster. "There's one of 'em inthe 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 kitchenthat smells o' tar, and has got a bagful of shells and sech thingsfor presents to me; there's one in the barn lookin' over thestock--and I s'pose they're comin' down the chimbly and up the sullerstairs by this time. You're the only one I've got in the world todepend 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--honestto 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, " saidthe Cap'n, "when you tell 'em that you've been engaged to her forfifteen years. But it ain't none surprisin' that men that hear ofthat engagement should most natch'ally conclude that a woman wouldlike to git married after a while. I cal'late ye see now, brother-in-law, that you ain't the only man that appreciates whata good woman Miss Pharlina Pike is. "

"You come along, Pharline, " said the Colonel, taking her arm, afterhe had bored the Cap'n for a moment with flaming eye. "I reckon Ican pertect ye from all the tramps ever let loose out ofjails--and--and when I git to the bottom of this I predict there'llbe bloodshed--there'll be bones broke, anyway. " With one moremalevolent 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'syou and me go along. "

As they trudged he saw farmers at a distance here and there, andcalled to them to follow. 

"Look here, I don't need no bee!" howled the Colonel. "This ain'tnothing 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 inother directions that there were strange doings at the Pike place. With huge satisfaction the Cap'n noted that the yard was packed withspectators. 

"Where be ye?" bellowed Colonel Ward, now in a frenzy. "Where be ye, ye scalawags that are round tryin' to hector a respectable woman thatwouldn'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 variousparts of the premises. 

"I desire to say, as a clergyman along evangelical lines, and nota settled pastor, " said the man in the fuzzy plug-hat, "that I donot approve of this person's violent language. I have seen him oncebefore to-day, and he appeared singularly vulgar and unrefined. Heused violent language then. I desire to say to you, sir, that I amhere on the best of authority"--he tapped his breast pocket--"andhere I shall remain until I have discussed the main questionthoroughly 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 allussaid to me, you'll make him take that back. "

For a moment the Colonel's jealous suspicion had flamed again, butthe 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 PharlinePike 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, " saidthe decayed-looking man with dignity. "She has decided to chooseanother, and--"

Colonel Ward threw back his shoulders and faced them all withglittering eyes. 

"I'd like to see the man that can step into this town and lug offthe 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 GideonWard and Pharline Pike married as tight as a parson can tie the knot. I mean it!" The excitement of the moment, his rage at interferencein his affairs, his desire to triumph thus publicly over thesestrangers, had led him into the declaration. 

The spinster gasped, but she came to him and trustfully put her handon his arm. 

"P'raps some can be put off by that bluff, " said the man with theswollen 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 someone's got to pay me my expenses, and for wear and tear. " He waveda paper. 

Ward leaped forward and snatched the paper from his grasp. 

"It's about time for me to see what you're flourishing round herepromiskous, 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, " saidthe man, coming forward and putting a grimy finger on a paragraphdisplayed prominently on the folded sheet of newspaper. 

The Colonel took one look and choked. An officious neighbor grabbedaway the paper when Ward made a sign as though to tuck it into hispocket. 

"I'll read it, " said the neighbor. "Mebbe my eyesight is better'nyourn. " 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!" screamedthe spinster. 

"You see for yourself, " said the man of the swollen nose, ignoringher disclaimer. "We're here on business, and expect to be treatedlike business men--or expenses refunded to us. "

But the Colonel roared wordlessly, like some angry animal, seizeda 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 drivingthe fork-tines into the ground, "who has insulted Miss Pike. I'd givea 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 meto 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, andso's she who is goin' to be my companion, and we'll 'tend to our ownbusiness 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 straightthis time. It's for this day week; no invitations, no cards, noflowers, no one's durnation business. There, take that home and chawon it. Pharline, let's you and me go into the house. "

"I reckon there's witnesses enough to make that bindin', " mutteredCap'n Sproul under his breath. 

He bent forward and tapped the Colonel on the arm as Ward was aboutto 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 theColonel'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 ominousthan vociferation. 

"I thought I'd warn ye not to twit. My rheumaticks is a good dealbetter at this writin', and my mind ain't so much occupied by othermatters as it has been for a week or so. When you come home don'ttalk northin' but business, jest as you natch'ally would to abrother-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 snuglyin the hook of his own, he observed, soulfully:

"Mattermony, Louada Murilla--mattermony, it is a blessed state thatit does the heart good to see folks git into as ought to git intoit. As the poet says--um-m-m, well, it's in that book on thesettin'-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 ofhis piazza. He sat bolt upright and twiddled his gnarled thumbsnervously. 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, " roaredthe ship-master, in sudden and ungallant passion. It was the firstimpatient word she had received from him in that initial, cozy yearof their marriage. Her mild brown eyes swam in tears as she lookedat him wonderingly. 

"I--I haven't ever seen a ship or the sea, but I'm trying so hardto learn, and I love so to hear you talk of the deep blue ocean. Itwas 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, " shecomplained, wistfully. "You haven't seemed to relish telling mestories of the sea and your narrow escapes. You haven't even seemedto relish vittles and the scenery. Oh, haven't you been weaned fromthe 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 contrastedstrikingly with the congress boot that shod his other foot. Red rosesand sprays of sickly green vine formed the pattern of the carpetslipper. The heart of a red rose on the toe had been cut out, as thoughthe cankerworm had eaten it; and on a beragged projection that stuckthrough and exhaled the pungent odor of liniment, the Cap'n'slowering 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'tbreak it. Does it still ache, dear?"

"It aches like--of course it aches!" roared the Cap'n. "Don't askthat jeebasted, fool question ag'in. I don't mean to be tetchy, Louada Murilla, " he went on, after a little pause, a bit of mildnessin 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 Ihadn'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 whatI mean, " he snorted, with grim viciousness. 

She sighed, and he resumed his dismal survey of the liniment-soakedrags. 

"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 thatthere's a place down in Africa where I put in with the _JeffersonP. Benn_ one time, where they daub honey on folks that they want togit 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 workedhard for and earnt and saved is the honey. You've lived among themhere all your life, Louada Murilla, and I s'pose you've got more orless wonted to 'em. But if I hadn't squirmed and thrashed round alittle durin' the time I've lived here, after marryin' you andsettlin' down among 'em, they'd have et me, honey, money, hide, andhair. As it is, they've got their little lunch off'm me. I haven'tthrashed 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, onlywhat we've had with brother Gideon since we've been married, " shesaid 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 usedMarengo Orango, there, or whatever you call him, all right, ain'tI? I've let him do me! He knowed I was used to sea ways, and wa'n'tused to land ways, and that he _could_ do me. I lent him money, firstoff, because I liked you. And I've lent him money sence because Ilike a liar--and he's a good one! I've used all your relatives thebest I've knowed how, and--and they've turned round and used me! ButI'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 aboutall named Todd or Ward round here but one, and his name is Todd WardBrackett, and he's due next. And they're all tryin' to borry moneyoff'm me and sell me spavined hosses. Now, let's see if they can takea hint. " He tentatively wriggled the toe some more, and groaned. "TheTodds and the Wards better keep away from me. "

Then he suddenly pricked up his ears at the sound of the slow rumbleof a wagon turning into the yard. The wagon halted, and they heardthe buzzing twang of a jew's-harp, played vigorously. 

"There's your Todd Ward Brackett. I predicted him! 'Round here tosell 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 itby buying any more liniment off'm him, " the Cap'n retorted. "You jestkeep your settin', Louada Murilla. I'll tend to your fam'ly end afterthis. "

He struggled up and began to hop toward the end of the piazza. Thenew 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 uprightin the middle of it, carolling lustily. It was "Balm o' Joy" Brackett, pursuing his humble vocation and using his familiar method ofattracting 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 floodsyour 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 mayyou skim the cream off'm it. Let's be happy, let's be gay, trade withme 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, andBalm o' Joy lin-i-ment. Trade with--"

"Git out o' this yard!" bawled the Cap'n, in his storm-and-tempesttones. "You crack-brained, rag-and-bone-land-pirate, git off'm mypremises! I don't want your stuff. I've bought the last cent's wu'thof you I'll ever buy. Git out!"

"The Cap'n isn't well to-day, Todd, " quavered Mrs. Sproul. Fearprompted her to keep still. But many years of confidential barterof 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 onefoot like an angry hawk. "You go 'long out of this yard. "

Without losing his smile--for he had been long accustomed to thetaunts and tirades of dissatisfied housewives--the peddler backedhis cart around and drove away, crying over his shoulder with greatgood-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, youwhiffle-headed dog-vane, you!" the Cap'n squalled after him. ButBrackett 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 cricketthat his wife brought dutifully. He gritted his teeth as long as thevoice of the singer came to his ears. 

"I wish you hadn't, " mourned his wife; "he's as good-meaning a manas there is in town, even if he is a little light-headed. He's alwaysgiven me good trades, and his st'ilyards don't cheat on rags. "

The old mariner was evidently preparing a stinging reply, but a knockon the door interrupted him. Louada Murilla admitted three men, whomarched in solemnly, one behind the other, all beaming with greatcordiality. Cap'n Sproul, not yet out of the doldrums, simplyglowered and grunted as they took seats. 

Then one of them, whom Sproul knew as Ludelphus Murray, the localblacksmith, arose and cleared his throat with ominous formality. 

"It's best to hammer while the iron is hot, Cap'n, " he said. "It won'ttake many clips o' the tongue to tell you what we've come for. Wethree here are a committee from the Smyrna Ancient and Honer'bleFiremen'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 thishonor has been given to you! My own father belonged. "

"And, " continued Murray, with a satisfied smile, and throwing backhis shoulders as one who brings great tidings, "it has been realizedfor a long time that there ain't been the discipline in theassociation that there ought to be. We have now among us in our midstone who has commanded men and understands how to command men; onewho 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 tittlishtimes. So the association"--he took a long breath--"has elected youforeman, and I hereby hand you notice of the same and the book ofrules. "

The Cap'n scowled and put his hand behind the rocking-chair in whichhe 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 yearsold, and our hand tub, the 'Hecla, ' is ninety-seven years old, andhas took more prizes squirtin' at musters than any other tub in theState. We ain't had many fires ever in Smyrna, but the Ancients takethe leadin' rank in all social events, and our dances and banquetsare patronized by the best. "

"It's an awful big honor, Aaron, " gasped his wife. She turned to thecommittee. "The Cap'n hasn't been feelin' well, gentlemen, and thishonor has kind of overcome him. But I know he appreciates it. My ownfather was foreman once, and it's a wonderful thing to think thatmy husband is now. "

"'Tain't likely that the Ancients will ever forgit them dinners wehad here, Mis' Sproul, " remarked one of the men, 'suffling' themoisture at the corners of his mouth. 

"Seein' that you ain't well, we don't expect no speech, Cap'n, " saidMurray, laying the documents upon Sproul's knee. "I see that thehonor has overcome you, as it nat'rally might any man. We will nowtake 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 atthe threshold to their newly drafted foreman, who still glared atthem speechlessly. 

When Mrs. Sproul returned at length, still fluttering in herexcitement, he was reading the little pamphlet that had been leftwith 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 herein town only such a little while! Oh, I am so proud of you! Mr. Murraybrought the things in his team and left them on the piazza. I'll runand get them. "

She spread them on the sitting-room floor, kneeling before him likea priestess offering sacrifice. With his thumb in the pamphlet, hestared at the array. 

There was a battered leather hat with a broad apron, or scoop, behindto protect the back. On a faded red shield above the visor was theword "Foreman. " There were two equally battered leather buckets. There was a dented speaking-trumpet. These the Cap'n dismissed oneby one with an impatient scowl. But he kicked at one object with hiswell foot. 

"What's that infernal thing?" he demanded. 

"A bed-wrench, Aaron. It's to take apart corded beds so as to getthem out of houses that are on fire. There aren't hardly any cordedbeds now, of course, but it's a very old association that you'reforeman of, and the members keep the old things. It's awfully niceto 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, isthe 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 grabup them two leather swill-pails and stick that iron thing there undermy arm and grab that puckering-string bag in my teeth and starttophet-te-larrup over this town a-chasin' fires? Say--" but hisvoice choked, and he began to read once more the pamphlet. The redon 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 thingin your fam'ly once, and was knowin' what it meant, and then let themthree Shanghaiers come in here and shove this bloodsucker bus'nessonto me, and git away all safe and sound? I had been thinkin' thatyour Todds and Wards was spreadin' some sail for villuns, but they'reonly 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 'emfour times a year and ev'ry holiday. It says that the foreman is finedtwo dollars for ev'ry monthly meetin' that he misses, other membersten 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'rytime he's ketched without his hat, buckets, bag, and bed-wrench hungin his front hall where they belong, other members ten cents. Andhe's taxed a quarter of the whole expenses of gittin' to firemen'smuster and back. Talk about lettin' blood with a gimlet! Why, they'reafter 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 togive him the history of Smyrna's most famous organization, andtimorously represented to him the social eminence he had attained. 

"It isn't as though you didn't have money, and plenty of it, " shepleaded. "You can't get any more good out of it than by spending itthat way. I tell you, Aaron, it isn't to be sneezed at, leading allthe grand marches at the Ancients' dances and being boss of 'em allat the muster, with the band a-playin' and you leading 'em right upthe middle of the street. It's worth it, Aaron--and I shall be soproud of you!"

He grumbled less angrily the next morning. But he still insisted thathe didn't propose to let the consolidated Todds and Wards of Smyrnabunco him into taking the position, and said that he should attendthe next meeting of the Ancients and resign. 

But when, on the third evening after his election, the enthusiasticmembers of the Smyrna A. & H. F. A. Came marching up from the village, the brass band tearing the air into ribbons with cornets andtrombones, his stiff resolve wilted suddenly. He began to grinshamefacedly under his grizzled beard, and hobbled out onto the porchand made them a stammering speech, and turned scarlet with pride whenthey cheered him, and basked in the glory of their compliments, andthrilled when they respectfully called him "Chief. " He even toldLouada Murilla that she was a darling, when she, who had beenforewarned, 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 socialprominence--that's all there is to it. There hasn't been a fire inthe town for fifteen years, and you aren't going to be bothered onemite. Oh, isn't that band just lovely?"

The Cap'n went to bed late that night, his ears tingling with theadulation of the multitude, and in his excited insomniaunderstanding for the first time in his life the words: "Uneasy liesthe head that wears a crown. " He realized more fully now that hisshipmaster days had given him a taste for command, and that he hadcome into his own again. 

VI

The new chief of the Ancients devoted the first hours of the nextmorning to the arrangement of his fire-fighting gear in the fronthall, and when all the items had been suspended, so that they wouldbe ready to his hand as well as serve as ornament, he went out onthe porch and sunned himself, revelling in a certain snug andcontented sense of importance, such as he hadn't felt since he hadstepped down from the quarter-deck of his own vessel. He even gazedat the protruding and poignant centre of that rose on his carpetslipper with milder eyes, and sniffed aromatic whiffs of linimentwith appreciation of its invigorating odor. 

It was a particularly peaceful day. From his porch he could view awide expanse of rural scenery, and, once in a while, a flash of sunagainst steel marked the location of some distant farmer in hisfields. There were no teams in sight on the highway, for the men ofSmyrna were too busily engaged on their acres. He idly watched a trailof dun smoke that rose from behind a distant ridge and zigzaggedacross the blue sky. He admired it as a scenic attraction, withoutattaching any importance to it. Even when a woman appeared on thefar-off ridge and flapped her apron and hopped up and down andappeared to be frantically signalling either the village in thevalley or the men in the fields, he only squinted at her through thesunlight and wondered what ailed her. A sudden inspiring thoughtsuggested that perhaps she had struck a hornets' nest. He chuckled. 

A little later a ballooning cloud of dust came rolling down the roadtoward him and the toll-bridge that led to Smyrna village. He notedthat the core of the cloud was a small boy, running so hard that hisknees almost knocked under his chin. He spun to a halt in front ofthe 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'llholler 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. "Fireover to Ben Ide's!"

He had his foreman's hat on wrong side to when his wife came burstingout of the sitting-room into the hall. She, loyal though excited ladyof the castle, shifted her knight's helmet to the right-about andstuffed his buckets, bag, and bed-wrench into his hands. The cordof 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 aprejudice against owning a horse and against Marengo when he triedto sell you that one. Now you've got to wait till some one gives youa lift. You can't go on that foot to Ide's. "

"Hoss!" he snorted. "Marengo! What he tried to sell me would be anice thing to git to a fire with! Spavined wusser'n a carpenter'ssaw-hoss, and with heaves like a gasoline dory! I can hop there onone 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 thatthe messenger of ill tidings had not pattered into the village asyet. 

But there was a team in sight. It was "Balm o' Joy" Brackett, hisarms akimbo as he fished on the reins to hurry his horse. He was comingfrom 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 allo' the ro'd, " he chirped, when the Cap'n went plunging toward himwith the evident intention of getting on board. 

"I'm foreman of the Ancients, " roared the Cap'n, "and I have the rightto 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 nopress-gang bus'ness on 'em. "

It was apparent that even "Balm o' Joy's" bland nature couldentertain resentment. 

"'Tain't right to lay up grudges ag'inst a man that was fussed uplike I was, Mister Brackett, " pleaded the Cap'n, hopping along besidethe 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 busywhen 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 hiswallet, and paid. Then he gathered his apparatus and grunted up tothe high seat. 

Far behind them the excited clang-clang of the Methodist bell waspealing 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 reckonthings 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 rideand not conversation. "

Brackett clapped the reins along his nag's skinny flank, set hiselbows 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'. Youkeep 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 thoughtrying 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'tyou jest as liv' take my rags now? I've got 'em all sacked and readyto 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 boughtme and my team with that little old ten dollars of yourn, and youcan't do northin', anyway, till Hecla gits there with the boys, andwhen you're there I don't see what you're goin' to amount to withthat sore toe. "

He was clearly rebellious. Cap'n Sproul had touched the tenderestspot in T. W. Brackett's nature by that savage yelp at his vocalefforts. But the chief of the Ancients had been wounded as cruellyin his own pride. He stood up and swung a bucket over the crouchingpeddler. 

"Drive on, you lubber, " he howled, "or I'll peg you down through thatseat like I'd drive a tack. Drive on!"

Brackett ducked his head and drove. And the Cap'n, summoning all theresources of a vocabulary enriched by a sea experience of thirtyyears, yelled at him and his horse without ceasing. 

When they topped the ridge they were in full view of Ide's doomedbuildings, and saw the red tongues of flame curling through therolling smoke. 

But a growing clamor behind made the Chief crane his neck and gazeover the top of the van. 

"Hecla" was coming!

Four horses were dragging it, and two-score men were howling alongwith it, some riding, but the most of them clinging to the brake-beamsand slamming along through the dust on foot. A man, perched besidethe driver, was bellowing something through a trumpet that soundedlike:

"Goff-off-errow, goff-off-errow, goff-off-errow!"

The peddler was driving sullenly, and without any particularenterprise. But this tumult behind made his horse prick up his earsand snort. When the nag mended his pace and began to lash out withstraddling 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 besidehimself and intent only on unrestricted speed, banged a leatherbucket down across the driver's hands. 

Brackett dropped the reins, with a yell of pain, and they fell intothe dust and dragged. The horse broke into a bunchy, jerky gallop, and lunged down the hill, the big van swaying wildly with an ominousrattling and crashing in its mysterious interior. 

There were teams coming along a cross-road ahead of them and teamsrattling from the opposite direction toward the fire, approachingalong the highway they were travelling. Collisions seemed inevitable. But in a moment of inspiration the Cap'n grabbed the trumpet thathung from its red cord around his neck and began to bellow in histurn:

"Goff-off-errow, goff-off-errow!" It was as nearly as human voicecould phrase "Get off the road" through the thing. 

The terrifying bulk of the big van cleared the way ahead, even thoughpeople desperately risked tip-ups in the gutter. As it tore along, horses climbed fences with heads and tails up. There were menfloundering in bushes and women squalling from the tops ofrock-heaps. 

The Chief of the Ancients did not halt to attend to his duties atthe fire. He went howling past on the high seat of the van, over thenext ridge and out of sight. 

"We're goin' to tophet, and you done it, and you've got to pay forit, " Brackett wailed over and over, bobbing about on the seat. Butthe Cap'n did not reply. Teams kept coming into sight ahead, and hehad thought only for his monotonous bellow of "Goff-off-errow!"

Disaster--the certain disaster that they had despairinglyaccepted--met them at the foot of Rines' hill, two miles beyond Ide's. The road curved sharply there to avoid "the Pugwash, " as aparticularly mushy and malodorous bog was called in localterminology. 

At the foot of the hill the van toppled over with a crash and anchoredthe steaming horse, already staggering in his exhaustion. Both menhad scrambled to the top of the van, ready to jump into the Pugwashas they passed. The Cap'n still carried his equipment, both bucketsslung upon one arm, and even in this imminent peril it never occurredto him to drop them. Lucky fate made their desperate leap for lifea tame affair. When the van toppled they were tossed over the roadsideinto the bog, lighted on their hands and knees, and sank slowly intoits mushiness like two Brobdingnagian frogs. 

It was another queer play of fate that the next passer was MarengoTodd, whipping his way to the fire behind a horse that had a bit ofwire pinched over his nose to stifle his "whistling. "

Marengo Todd leaped out and presented the end of a fence-rail toBrackett first, and pulled him out. 

When he stuck the end of the rail under the Cap'n's nose the Cap'npushed 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 grudgesfor 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 MarengoTodd nussed a grudge. "

When the Cap'n was once more on solid ground, Todd, still iteratinghis forgiveness of past injuries, picked up a tin pie-plate that hadbeen jarred out of the van among other litter, and began to scrapethe black mud off the foreman of the Ancients in as matter-of-facta way as though he were currycombing a horse. 

The spirit of the doughty mariner seemed broken at last. He lookeddown at himself, at the mud-clogged buckets and his unspeakablebedragglement. 

"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 wherehe wants to git, unless he has a ree-li'ble hoss. I've tried to tellyou so before, but--but, well, you didn't listen to me the way youought to. " He continued to scrape, and the Cap'n stared mutely downat 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 themariner, desperately. The fire, the smoke of which was rolling upabove 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 meekand injured person that he should forget and forgive sufficientlyto take him in and put him down at Ide's. It seemed like crowdingthe mourners. Furthermore, Cap'n Aaron Sproul was not a man whotraded in humble apologies. His independence demanded a differentfooting 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 youthere a mile a minit, " gasped Todd, grasping the situation. 

With muddy hands, trembling in haste, the Cap'n drew his long, fatwallet 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 thewagon. 

"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 anddown before them in the highway. He had a shotgun in his hands. 

"It's my brother--Voltaire, " shouted Marengo, pulling up, thoughCap'n Sproul swore tempestuously. "You've got to take him on. Heb'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 backtoward them and his legs hanging down. "I'm fu'st hoseman, and it'slucky you came along and giv' me a lift. " He set his gun-butt downbetween his knees, the muzzle pointing up. 

Cap'n Sproul had his teeth set hard upon a hank of his grizzledwhiskers, and his eyes on the smoke ahead. Todd ran his wheezing horseup the ridge, and when they topped it they beheld the whole movingscene below them. 

Men were running out of the burning house, throwing armfuls of goodsright and left. The "Hecla" was a-straddle of the well, and rows ofmen were tossing at her brake-beams. 

"Give her tar, give her tar!" yelled the man behind, craning his thinneck. Todd lashed at the horse and sent him running down the slope. At the foot of the declivity, just before they came to the laneleading into Ide's place, there was a culvert where the road crosseda brook. 

The boarding in the culvert made a jog in the road, and when the wagonstruck this at top speed its body flipped behind like the tongue ofa catapult. 

The man with the gun, having eyes and senses only for the fire andhis toiling fellow-Ancients, was unprepared. He went up, out, anddown in the dust, doggedly clinging to his gun. He struck the groundwith it still between his knees. The impact of the butt dischargedboth barrels straight into the air. 

Flanked by a roaring fire and howling crowd, and bombarded in therear, even a horse with a bone spavin and the heaves will exhibitthe spirit of Bucephalus. One of the rotten reins broke at Marengo'sfirst terrified tug. In less time than it takes to tell, Cap'n AaronSproul, desperate and beholding only one resource--the tailflaunting over the dasher--seized it and gave a seaman's sturdy pull. The tail came away in his hands and left only a wildly brandishingstump. Even in that moment of horror, the Cap'n had eyes to see andwit to understand that this false tail was more of Marengo Todd'shorse-jockey guile. The look that he turned on the enterprisingdoctor of caudal baldness was so perfectly diabolical that Marengochose what seemed the lesser of two evils. He precipitated himselfover 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 waysidealders. Cap'n Aaron Sproul was left alone with his newly acquiredproperty!

When he hove in sight of his own house he saw Louada Murilla on theporch, gazing off at the smoke of the fire and evidently luxuriatingin the consciousness that it was her husband who was that day leadingthe gallant forces of the Ancients. 

As he stared wildly, home seemed his haven and the old house his rockof safety. He did not understand enough about the vagaries of horsesand wagons to appreciate the risk. One rein still hung over thedasher. 

"Only one jib down-haul left of all the riggin', " he groaned, andthen grabbed it and surged on it. 

The horse swung out of the road, the wagon careering wildly on twowheels. Sproul crossed the corner of some ploughed land, swept downa length of picket-fence, and came into his own lane, up which thehorse staggered, near the end of his endurance. The wagon swung andcame to grief against the stone hitching-post at the corner of theporch. Cap'n Sproul, encumbered still with buckets and bag andtrumpet, floundered over the porch rail, through a tangled mass ofwoodbine vines, and into the arms of his distracted wife. 

For five minutes after she had supported him to a chair she coulddo nothing but stare at him, with her hands clasped and her eyesgoggling, and cry, "Aaron, Aaron, dear!" in crescendo. His solereplies 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 youare hurt what made 'em let their Chief come home all alone with thatwild 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 tryingto figure out some abstruse problem. He did not brighten until a teamcame tearing up to the gate, and a man with a scoop fireman's haton came running to the porch. The man saluted. 

"Chief, " he said, with the air of an aide reporting on the field ofbattle, "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 thatyou wasn't there to take charge, but I told the boys that you'dprob'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 askif you'll let us use your ten-dollar fine for a treat? That will helptheir 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 hadgot his range, and the next bucket knocked off the scoop hat. Whenthe Cap'n scrambled to his feet, loaded with the bed-wrench for hisnext volley, the man turned and ran for his team. The bed-wrenchcaught him directly between the shoulders--a masterly shot. Thetrumpet flew wild, but by that time the emissary of the Ancients wasin his wagon and away. 

"Aaron!" his wife began, quaveringly, but the Cap'n leaped towardher, pulled the mouth of the puckering-bag over her head, and hoppedinto the house. When at last she ventured to peer in at thesitting-room window, he was tearing the book of "Rules of the SmyrnaAncient and Honorable Firemen's Association, " using both his handsand his teeth, and worrying it as a dog worries a bone. 

That was his unofficial resignation. The official one came as soonas he could control his language. 

And for a certain, prolonged period in the history of the town ofSmyrna it was well understood that Cap'n Aaron Sproul was definitelyout of public affairs. But in public affairs it often happens thathonors that are elusive when pursued are thrust upon him who doesnot seek them. 

VII

The moderator of the Smyrna town meeting held his breath for justa moment so as to accentuate the hush in which the voters listenedfor his words, and then announced the result of the vote for firstselectman 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 solemnannouncement, and he rapped his cane on the marred table of the townhall 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 theknife-nicked settees of the town house and waved their hats whilethey hooted. A group of voters, off at one side, sat and gloweredat this hilarity. Out of the group rose Colonel Gideon, his long frameunfolding with the angularity of a carpenter's two-foot rule. Therewere little dabs of purple on his knobby cheek-bones. His hair andhis beard bristled. He put up his two fists as far as his arms wouldreach 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 wasdethroned. 

"Almighty God has always wanted an excuse to destroy this town likeSodom and Gomorrah was destroyed, " he shouted, his voice breakinginto a squeal of rage; "now He's got it. "

He drove his pointed cap onto his head, gave a parting shake of hisfists that embraced moderator, voters, walls, floor, roof, and allappurtenances of the town house, and stalked down the aisle and out. The silence in town meeting was so profound that the voters heardhim welting his horse as he drove away. 

After a time the moderator drew a long breath, and stated that hedid not see Cap'n Aaron Sproul in the meeting, and had been informedthat he was not present. 

"I come past his place this mornin', " whispered Old Man Jordan tohis neighbor on the settee, "and he was out shovelin' snow off'm thefront 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 prettybad, but he reckoned that politics was wuss. I should hate to be theone that has to break this news to him. "

"And seein' how it's necessary to have the first selectman here tobe sworn in before the meetin' closes this afternoon, " went on themoderator, "I'll appoint a committee of three to wait on Cap'n AaronSproul and notify him of the distinguished honor that has been donehim this day by his feller townsmen. "

He settled his spectacles more firmly upon his nose, and ran his gazecalculatingly over the assembled voters. No one of those patrioticcitizens seemed to desire to be obtrusive at that moment. 

"I'll appoint as chairman of that notifying committee, " proceededthe moderator, "Entwistle Harvey, and as--"

"I shall have to decline the honor, " interrupted Mr. Entwistle Harvey, rising promptly. The voters grinned. They thoroughly understood thereason for Mr. Harvey's reluctance. 

"It ain't that I'm any less a reformer than the others that has to-dayredeemed this town from ring rule and bossism, " declared Mr. Harvey, amid applause; "it ain't that I don't admire the able man that hasbeen selected to lead us up out of the vale of political sorrow--andI should be proud to stand before him and offer this distinguishedhonor 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 manfor the place, that's all. " He sat down. 

"I don't blame him none for duckin', " murmured Old Man Jordan to hisseat companion. "Any man that was in the crowd that coaxed Cap'nSproul into takin' the foremanship of Heckly Fire Comp'ny has gota good excuse. I b'lieve the law says that ye can't put a man twicein peril of his life. "

Cap'n Sproul's stormy relinquishment of the hateful honor that hadbeen foisted upon him by the Smyrna fire-fighters was history recentenough to give piquant relish to the present situation. He had notwithheld nor modified his threats as to what would happen to any othercommittee that came to him proffering public office. 

The more prudent among Smyrna's voters had hesitated about makingthe irascible ex-mariner a candidate for selectman's berth. 

But Smyrna, in its placid New England eddy, had felt its own littlethrill from the great tidal wave of municipal reform sweeping thecountry. It immediately gazed askance at Colonel Gideon Ward, fortwenty years first selectman of Smyrna, and growled under its breathabout "bossism. " But when the search was made for a candidate to runagainst him, Smyrna men were wary. Colonel Ward held too manymortgages and had advanced too many call loans not to be wellfortified against rivals. 

"The only one who has ever dared to twist his tail is hisbrother-in-law, the Cap'n, " said Odbar Broadway, oracularly, to theleaders 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'tno more hell 'n' repeat than what we've been used to for the lasttwenty years. He's wuth thutty thousand dollars, and Gid Ward can'tforeclose no mo'gidge on him nor club him with no bill o' sale. He'sthe only prominunt man in town that can afford to take the officeaway from the Colonel. What ye've got to do is to go ahead and electhim, 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, wherethe snapping eyes of Colonel Ward could not spy. 

And now, instead of invoking the higher power mentioned as a resourceby Broadway, the moderator of the town meeting was struggling withhuman tools, and very rickety human tools they seemed to be. 

Five different chairmen did he nominate, and with great alacrity thefive refused to serve. 

The moderator took off his glasses, and testily rapped the dentedtable. 

"Feller citizens, " he snapped, "this is gittin' to be boys' play. I realize puffickly that Cap'n Aaron Sproul, our firstselectman-elect, has not been a seeker after public office since heretired as foreman of the Hecla Fire Company. I realize pufficklythat he entertained some feelin' at the time that--that--he wasn'texactly cal'lated to be foreman of an engine company. But that ain'tsayin' that he won't receive like gentlemen the committee that comesto tell him that he has been elected to the highest office in thistown. I ain't got any more time to waste on cowards. There's one manhere that ain't afraid of his own shadder. I call on Constable ZebureeNute to head the committee, and take along with him Constables Wadeand Swanton. And I want to say to the voters here that it's a nicereport to go abroad from this town that we have to pick from the policeforce to get men with enough courage to tell a citizen that he's beenelected 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 badgethat, as chief constable of the town, he wore on the outside of hiscoat. 

"Gents of the committee, please 'tend promptly to the dutiesassigned, " commanded the moderator, "and we will pass on to the nextarticle in the town warrant. "

Mr. Nute rose slowly and marched out of the hall, the other twovictims 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' himinterested in this honor that we are about to bestow. Has any oneelse 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 singlefile, along the mushy highway. 

It was one of Cap'n Aaron Sproul's mentally mild, mellow, and benigndays, when his heart seemed to expand like a flower in the comfortsof his latter-life domestic bliss. Never had home seemed sogood--never the little flush on Louada Murilla's cheeks soattractive in his eyes as they dwelt fondly on her. 

In the night he had heard the sleet clattering against the pane andthe snow slishing across the clapboards, and he had turned on hispillow with a little grunt of thankfulness. 

"There's things about dry land and the people on it that ain't sofull of plums as a sailor's duff ought to be, " he mused, "but--" Andthen he dozed off, listening to the wind. 

In the morning, just for a taste of rough weather, he had put on hisslicker and sea-boots and shovelled the slush off the front walk. Then he sat down with stockinged feet held in the radiance of an openFranklin stove, and mused over some old log-books that he liked tothumb occasionally for the sake of adding new comfort to a fit ofshore contentment. 

This day he was taking especial interest in the log-books, for hewas again collaborating with Louada Murilla in that spasmodicliterary 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 theyhad been pursuing, "that boxin' the compass and knowin' a jibdown-haul from a pound of saleratus ain't all there is to a mastermariner's business, not by a blamed sight. Them passuls of cat's meatthat they call sailormen in these days has to be handled, --well, thesuperintendent of a Sunday-school wouldn't be fit for the job, unlesshe had a little special trainin'. "

Louada Murilla, the point of her pencil at her lips, caught avindictive gleam in his eyes. 

"But it seems awful cruel, some of the things that you--you--Isuppose you had to do 'em, Aaron! And yet when you stop and thinkthat 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 liketryin' to whittle through a turkle's shell with a hummin'-bird'spin-feather. My rule most generally was to find one soft spot on 'emsomewhere that a marlin-spike would hurt, and then hit that spot hardand often. That's the only way I ever got somewhere with a cargo andgot back ag'in the same year. "

"I suppose it has to be, " sighed his wife, making a note. "It's likekilling little calves for veal, and all such things that make thefond heart ache. "

The Cap'n was "leaving" the grimy pages of a log-book. He paused overcertain entries, and his face darkened. There was no morevindictiveness in his expression. It was regret and a sort of vagueworry. 

"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 toshare your burdens. "

Cap'n Sproul looked around on the peace of his home, and some deepfeeling seemed to surge in his soul. 

"Louada Murilla, " he said, sadly, "this isn't anything to be writtenin the book, and I didn't ever mean to speak of it to you. But thereare times when a man jest has to talk about things, and he can't helpit. There was one thing that I've been sorry for. I've said so tomyself, and I'm goin' to say as much to you. Confession is good forthe 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. 'Tisa titillating sensation, sometimes, to awe or shock those whom welove, when we know that forgiveness waits ready at hand. 

"There was once--there was one man--I hit him dretful hard. He wasa Portygee. But I hit him too hard. It was a case of mutiny. I reckonI could have proved it was mutiny, with the witnesses. But I hit himhard. "

"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 toreport it, and stood hearin'. But it was six weeks after we'd droppedhim overboard--after the funeral, ye know--before we reached port. And there was a cargo ashore jest dancin' up and down to slip throughthe 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 eitherhis soft spot was too soft, or else I hit too hard. What I ought tohave done was to report when my witnesses was right handy. Since I'vesettled and married and got property, I've woke up in the night, sometimes, and thought what would happen to me if that Portygee'srelatives 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 aboutthose things, now that I've got time to worry. Things looks differentashore from what they do aflo't, with your own ship under you andhustlin' to make money. " He gazed round the room again, and seemedto 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 tooktheir dunnage-bags over the rail? Hunt whiskers on a flea! What areyou talkin' about? Why, Louada Murilla, I never even knowed what thePortygee's name was, except that I called him Joe. A skipper don'tlo'd his mem'ry with that sculch any more'n he'd try to find namesfor the hens in the deck-coop. 

"I made a mistake, " he continued, after a time, "in not havin' itcleaned up, decks washed, and everything clewed snug at the time ofit. But ev'ry man makes mistakes. I made mine then. It would beGod-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 muchof anything except grit in the gizzard of a United States court. Theyseem to think the Govumment wants every one hung. I remember a captainonce who--"

He paused suddenly, for he caught sight of three muddy wagonstrundling in procession into the yard. In the first one sat ConstableZeburee Nute, his obtrusive nickel badge on his overcoat. 

Cap'n Sproul looked at Louada Murilla, and she stared at him, andin sudden panic both licked dry lips and were silent. The topic theyhad been pursuing left their hearts open to terror. There are momentswhen a healthy body suddenly absorbs germs of consumption that ithas hitherto thrown off in hale disregard. There are moments whenthe mind and courage are overwhelmed by panic that reason does notpause 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 rigidlegs still extended toward the fire. 

The three men filed into the room, and remained standing in solemnrow. Mr. Nute, on behalf of the delegation, refused chairs that wereoffered by Mrs. Sproul. He had his own ideas as to how a committeeof notification should conduct business. He stood silent and lookedat Louada Murilla steadily and severely until she realized that herabsence was desired. 

She tottered out of the room, her terrified eyes held in lingeringthrall by the woe-stricken orbs of the Cap'n. 

Constable Nute eyed the door that she closed, waiting a satisfactorylapse of time, and then cleared his throat and announced:

"I want you to realize, Cap'n Sproul, that me and my feller constableshere has been put in a sort of a hard position. I hope you'll considerthat and govern yourself accordin'. First of all, we're obeyin'orders from them as has authority. I will say, however, that I haveideas as to how a thing ought to be handled, and my associates haveagreed to leave the talkin' to me. I want to read you somethin'first, " he said, fumbling at the buttons on his coat, "but that youmay 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'poseI have to say more than 'Cincinnatus, ' That one word explains itselfand 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 eyingthe hand that was seeking the constable's inside pocket. "I neverwas strong on Portygee names. I called him Joe. "

Mr. Nute merely stared, without trying to catch the drift of thisindistinct 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 hispuffy nose, unfolded a sheet of paper on which a dirty newspaperclipping was pasted, and began to read:

"More than ever before in the history of the United States of Americaare loyal citizens called upon to throw themselves into the breachof municipal affairs, and wrest from the hands of the guilty--"

The ears of Cap'n Sproul, buzzing with his emotions, caught only afew 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--ofgetting where he could think for a little while, out from under thestarings of those three solemn men. 

"I want to--I want to--" he floundered; "I would like to get on myshoes and my co't and--and--I'll be right back. I won't try to--I'llbe right back, I say. "

Mr. Nute suspended his reading, looked over his spectacles, and gavethe required permission. Perhaps it occurred to his official sensethat a bit more dignified attire would suit the occasion better. Aflicker of gratification shone on his face at the thought that theCap'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 hestaggered into the kitchen, where his wife cowered in a corner. "He'sreadin' 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 gitaway 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 threeconstables. "

"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, forI've lived too free and open to be penned up at my time o' life. Itain't fair--it ain't noways fair!" His voice broke. "It was all amatter of discipline. But you can't prove it to land-sharks. If theygit 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 atthe weapons with quivering finger. "I'll shoot 'em in the legs, jestto hold 'em up. I'll git to salt water. I know skippers that willtake 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'thurt 'em in there--a bullet in the leg. And it's life and death forme. 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'sthe best I can think of now. It ain't what I should choose, but it'sthe best I can think of. I've had short notice. I can't let 'em takeme. "

As he talked he seemed to derive some comfort from action. He pulledon his boots. He wriggled into his coat. From a pewter pitcher highup on a dresser shelf he secured a fat wallet. But when he rushedto 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 Prisonwith you--I'll go to the ends of the world to meet you. But I couldn'thave those old men shot in our own house. I realize you've got toget 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, andyou've got a half-hour before the down-train. And I'll lock 'em intothe setting-room, Aaron, and keep 'em as long as I can. And I'll cometo you, Aaron, though I have to follow you clear around the world. "

In the last, desperate straits of an emergency, many a woman's witsring truer than a man's. When she had kissed him and departed on hererrand 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 aglimpse, through the sitting-room window, of the constables standingin solemn row. Never were innocent members of committee ofnotification more blissfully unconscious of what they had escaped. They were blandly gazing at the Cap'n's curios ranged on mantel andwhat-not. 

It was a snort from Constable Swanton that gave the alarm. Mr. Nute'steam was spinning away down the road, the wagon-wheels throwing slushwith a sort of fireworks effect. Cap'n Sproul, like most sailors, was not a skilful driver, but he was an energetic one. The horse wasgalloping. 

"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 thewindow-catches were on the inside, and he slammed up the nearest sashand leaped out. The others followed. The pursuit was on as soon asthey could get to their wagons, Mr. Wade riding with the chiefconstable. 

The town house of Smyrna is on the main road leading to therailway-station. The constables, topping a hill an eighth of a milebehind 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 wildlyas 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 hadan added flavor. 

Next came the two teams containing the constables, lashing past onthe run. They paid no attention to the amazed yells of inquiry fromthe horse-swappers, and disappeared behind the sugar orchard. 

"You've got me!" said Uncle Silas Drake to the first out-rush of thecurious from the town house. In his amazement, Uncle Silas was stillholding to the patient nose of the horse whose teeth he had beenexamining. "They went past like soft-soap slidin' down the sullerstairs, and that's as fur's I'm knowin'. But I want to remark, asmy personal opinion, that a first seeleckman of this town ought tobe '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 horsesand started along the highway in the direction the fugitives hadtaken. 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 hehad been to order flat-cars for lumber, heard the distant clamor ofvoices, and stood up in his tall cart to listen. At that instant, around the bend of the road, twenty feet away, came a horse gallopingwildly. Colonel Ward was halted squarely in the middle of the way. He caught an amazed glimpse of Cap'n Sproul trying to rein to oneside with unskilled hands, and then the wagons met. Colonel Ward'swagon stood like a rock. The lighter vehicle, locking wheels, wentdown with a crash, and Cap'n Sproul shot head-on over the dasher intohis 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 ofa desperate man. Without an instant's hesitation he drew back, hitWard a few resounding buffets on either side of his head, and thentossed the dizzied man out of his wagon into the roadside slush. Aninstant later he had the reins, swung the frightened horse acrossthe gutter and around into the road, and continued his flight in thedirection of the railroad-station. 

The constables, leading the pursuing voters by a few lengths, foundColonel Ward sitting up in the ditch and gaping in utter amazementand dire wrath at the turn of the road where Cap'n Sproul had sweptout 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 withbony finger in the direction of the railroad, and moved his jawsvoicelessly. Mr. Swanton descended from the wagon, helped him outof the ditch, and began to stroke the slush from his garments withmittened hand. As he still continued to gasp ineffectually, Mr. Nutedrove on, leaving him standing by the roadside. 

Cap'n Sproul was at bay on the station platform, feet braceddefiantly apart, hat on the back of his head, and desperate resolveflaming from his eyes. 

"Don't ye git out of your wagon, Nute, " he rasped. "It's been touchand go once with the three of ye to-day. I could have killed ye likesheep. 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 thatshow ye that I'm square till I have to be otherwise. But I'm adesp'rit' man, Nute. I'm goin' to take that train. " He brandishedhis fist at a trail of smoke up behind the spruces. "Gawd pity theman 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 wouldbe a pity and a shame to let a prominent man like that git away andfall into the hands of strangers. "

"All of ye take warnin', " bawled the Cap'n to his townsmen, who werecrowding their wagons into the station square. 

Constable Zeburee Nute drove his whip into the socket, threw downhis reins, and stood up. The hollow hoot of the locomotive had soundedup the track. 

"Feller citizens, " he cried, "as chairman of the committee ofnotification, I desire to report that I have 'tended to my dutiesin so far as I could to date. But there has things happened that Ican't figger out, and for which I ain't responsible. There ain't notime now for ifs, buts, or ands. That train is too near. A certainprominunt 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 itover 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 yourhalters and don't use no vi'lence. "

Samson himself, even though his weapon had been the jaw-bone of amegatherium, couldn't have resisted that onrush of the willingpopulace. In five minutes, the Cap'n, trussed hand and foot, andcrowded in between Constables Nute and Wade, was riding back towardSmyrna 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 theerrunt put upon me as chairman of the notification committee. "

With Mr. Wade driving slowly, he read the newspaper clipping thatsounded the clarion call that summoned men of probity to publicoffice, and at the close formally notified Cap'n Sproul that he hadbeen elected first selectman of Smyrna. He did all this withoutenthusiasm, and sighed with official relief when it was over. 

"And, " he wound up, "it is the sentiment of this town that there ain'tanother man in it so well qualified to lead us up out of the valleyof darkness where we've been wallerin'. We have called ourCincinnatus 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 ofhis 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 aniron 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 calmlyaddressing his captive, was tortured with cruel doubts as to theCap'n's sanity. But he believed in discharging his duty first. Andhe remembered that insane people were more easily prevailed upon bythose who appeared to make no account of their whims. 

During it all, Cap'n Sproul had been silent in utter amazement. Thetruth had come in a blinding flash that would have unsettled a mannot so well trained to control emotion. 

"Drive along, " he curtly commanded Nute, paying no heed to theincensed 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 Iam 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 quaileda 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. Andwhen 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 yoursrun away with me. " Mr. Nute stared at him wildly, and drove on. 

They were nearly to their destination before Constable Nute venturedupon what his twisted brow and working lips testified he had beenpondering 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 todo any harm to any one, I can't figger out what grudge you've gotagainst me. You said on the station platform that--"

"Nute, " said the Cap'n, briskly, "as I understand it, you never wentto sea, and you and the folks round here don't understand much aboutsailormen, 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 haveyour ways. Some of the things you do and some of the things you saycould be called names by me, providin' I wanted to be disagreeableand pick flaws. All men in this world are different--especiallysailormen from them that have always lived inshore. We've got to takeour feller man as we find him. "

They were in the town-house yard--a long procession of teamsfollowing. 

"And by-the-way, Nute, " bawled the Cap'n, from the steps of thebuilding as he was going in, using his best sea tones so that allmight hear, "it was the fault of your horse that he run away, andyou ought to be prosecuted for leavin' such an animile 'round wherea sailorman that ain't used to hosses could get holt of him. But I'malways liberal about other folks' faults. Bring in your bill for thewagon. "

Setting his teeth hard, he walked upon the platform of the town-hall, and faced the voters with such an air of authority and suchself-possession that they cheered him lustily. And then, with anintrepidity 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 tothe blaze of the Franklin. "I walked that platform like it was aquarter-deck, and my line of talk run jest as free as a britches-buoycoil. And when I got done, they was up on the settees howlin' forme. If any man came back into that town-house thinkin' I was a lunaticon account of what happened to-day, they got a diff'runt notionbefore I got done. Why, they all come 'round and shook my hand, andsaid they must have been crazy to tackle a prominunt citizen thatway 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 heartwas goin' like a donkey-engine workin' a winch, there was asixty-mile gale blowin' past my ears, and a fog-bank was front ofmy eyes. And when the sun came out ag'in and it cleared off, themoderator was standin' there shaking my hand and tellin' me what aspeech it was. It was a speech that had to be made. They had to bebluffed. But as to knowin' a word of what I said, why, I might jestas well try to tell you what the mermaid said when the feller broughther 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 brotherGideon busted into the town house and tried to break up my speechby tellin' 'em I was a lunatic. I ordered the constables to put himout. "

"Did they?" she asked, with solicitude. 

"No, " he replied, rubbing his nose, reflectively. "'Fore theconstables got to him, the boys took holt and throwed him out of thewindow. I reckon he's come to a realizin' sense by this time thatthe 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 rubit into Gideon. But now that I'm on this bluff about what happenedto-day, I've got to work it to a finish. I'm goin' to sue Gid forobstructin' the ro'd and smashin' Nute's wagon, and then jumpin' outand leavin' me to be run away with. The idea is, there are some finetouches needed in lyin' out of that part of the scrape, and, as thefirst selectman of Smyrna, I can't afford to take chances and dependon myself, and be showed up. I don't hold any A. B. Certificate whenit comes to lyin'. So for them fancy touches, I reckon I'll have tobreak 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 colorassisted by the caloric of a cook-stove in June--put her head outof the buttery window and informed the inquiring Cap'n Aaron Sproulthat 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 noseis becomin'. "

"Go 'long, you old rat!" tittered Mrs. Look. "Better save all yourcompliments 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 ateach other like game-cocks the first time they met, Smyrna wonderedat the sudden effusion of affection that now kept them trotting backand forth on almost daily visits to each other. 

Batson Reeves, second selectman of Smyrna, understood better thanmost of the others. It was on him as a common anvil that the two ofthem had pounded their mutual spite cool. Hiram, suddenlyreappearing with a plug hat and a pet elephant, after twenty yearsof wandering, had won promptly the hand of Widow Snell, _nee_ AmandaPurkis, whose self and whose acres Widower Reeves was just ready toannex. And Hiram had thereby partially satisfied the old boyhoodgrudge planted deep in his stormy temper when Batson Reeves hadbroken up the early attachment between Hiram Look and Amanda Purkis. As for First Selectman Sproul, hot in his fight with Reeves forofficial supremacy, his league with Hiram, after an initial combatto try spurs, was instant and cordial as soon as he had understooda few things about the showman's character and purpose. 

"Birds of a feather!" gritted Reeves, in his confidences with hisintimates. "An' old turkle-back of a sea-capt'in runnin' things inthis town 'fore he's been here two years, jest 'cause he's got cheekenough and thutty thousand dollars--and now comes that old gas-bagwith 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 cornerof the barn on that serene June forenoon, they must have softenedjust a bit at sight of the placid peace of it all. 

The big doors were rolled back, and "Imogene, " the ancient elephantwhose fond attachment to Hiram had preserved her from theauction-block, bent her wrinkled front to the soothing sunshine and"weaved" contentedly on her slouchy legs. She was watching her masterwith the thorough appreciation of one who has understood and lovedthe "sportin' life. "

Hiram was in shirt-sleeves and bareheaded, his stringy hair combedover his bald spot. His long-tailed coat and plug hat hung from awooden peg on the side of the barn. In front of him was a loose squareof burlap, pegged to the ground at one edge, its opposite edge nailedto the barn, and sloping at an angle of forty-five degrees. 

As Cap'n Sproul rounded the corner Hiram had just tossed a roosterin the air over the burlap. The bird came down flapping its wings;its legs stuck out stiffly. When it struck the rude net it boundedhigh, and came down again, and continued its grotesque hornpipe untilit 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 shookhands with his caller. "I don't expect to ever match him again inthis God-forsaken country, but there's some comfort in keepin' himin 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 hisstubby finger against the rooster's leg. 

"Eat 'em!" snapped the showman, raking the horns of his long mustacheirritably away from his mouth. "You talk like the rest of thesefarmers round here that never heard of a hen bein' good for anythingexcept to lay eggs and be et for a Thanksgivin' dinner. " He held therooster a-straddle his arm, his broad hand on its back, and shookhim under the Cap'n's nose. "I've earnt more'n a thousand dollarswith P. T. --and that's a profit in the hen business that all thecondition powders this side of Tophet couldn't fetch. "

"A thousand dollars!" echoed Cap'n Sproul, stuffing his pipe. Hegazed 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 burlaponce more. "Fight! Look at that leg action! That's the bestyaller-legged, high-station game-cock that ever pecked his way outof a shell. I've taken all comers 'twixt Hoorah and Hackenny, andhe 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 thefirst selectman, squinting sourly through his tobacco-smoke at thedancing fowl. 

Hiram got a saucer from a shelf inside the barn and set it on theground. 

"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 unlessit'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 thisspring. As fur back as the time I was gittin' the seed in, them hensof Widder Sidene Pike, that lives next farm to mine, began theirhellishness, with that old wart-legged ostrich of a rooster of her'nto lead 'em. They'd almost peck the seeds out of my hand, and theminit 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'tsee the sun for dirt. And at every rake that rooster lifts soil enoughto 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'shens? 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 closefriends, " stated the Cap'n, earnestly, "that there are only threethings on earth I'm afraid of, and them are: pneumony, bein' struckby lightnin', and havin' a land-shark git the law on me. There ain'tus'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 youheard that sence Bat Reeves got let down by she that was WidderSnell"--he nodded toward the house--"he has been sort of caught onthe bounce, as ye might say, by the Widder Pike? Well, bein' her closeneighbor, 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 toherself. Now, for the last week, every time that old red-gilleddirt-walloper has led them hens into my garden, I've caught BatReeves 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 languageto 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 gandershankedlawyer for a brother! See what they done to you!"

Hiram's eyes grew hard, and he muttered irefully. For cuffing BatsonReeves off the Widow Snell's door-step he had paid a fat fine, assessed for the benefit of the assaulted, along with liberal costsallowed to Squire Alcander Reeves. 

"They can't get any of my money that way, " pursued the Cap'n. "I'dpay suthin' for the privilege of drawin' and quarterin' him, but aplain 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 stareddown 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 shooingthem hens--or, at least, condonin' their comin' down into your gardenev'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 inthere before I got to the first bars on my way over here. "

P. T. , feeling the stimulus of the liver, crooked his neck and crowedspiritedly. Then he scratched the side of his head with one toe, shookhimself, and squatted down contentedly in the sun. 

"In the show business, " said Hiram, "when I found a feller with agame that I could play better 'n him, I was always willin' to playhis 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'shens; a fight won't do, because it's Bat Reeves; law won't do, becausehe's got old heron-legged Alcander right in his family. Now thisthing is gittin' onto your sperits, and I can see it!"

"It is heiferin' me bad, " admitted the Cap'n. "It ain't so much thehens--though Gawd knows I hate a hen bad enough--but it's Bat Reevesstandin' up there grinnin' and watchin' me play tag-you're-it withOld Scuff-and-kick and them female friends of his. For a man that'sdreamed of garden-truck jest as he wants it, and never had veg'tablesenough in twenty years of sloshin' round the world on shipboard, it'sabout the most cussed, aggravatin' thing I ever got against. Andthere I am! Swear and chase--and northin' comin' of it!"

Hiram clenched his cigar more firmly in his teeth, leaned overcarefully, 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 anddon'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 chattedas they walked, "'cause that compost-heap scratcher won't last solong as old Brown stayed in heaven. For P. T. , here, it will be jestbristle, shuffle, one, two--brad through each eye, and--'Cock-a-doodle-doo!' All over! But it will give you a chanceto see some of his leg-work, and a touch or two of his fancyspurrin'--and then you can take old Sculch-scratcher by the legs andhold 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 forlaw where one rooster comes over into another rooster's yard and getsdone 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'sacres. Here and there on the brown mould of his garden behind thebig 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'sdooryard. "

"Mebbe he'll wait and have fricasseed rooster for dinner, " suggestedHiram, grimly. "That's all his rooster'll be good for in fifteenminutes. "

"It would be the devil and repeat for us if the widder's roostershould lick--and Bat Reeves standin' and lookin' on, " suggested theCap'n, bodingly. 

Hiram stopped short, looked this faltering faint-heart all over fromhead to heel with withering scorn, and demanded: "Ain't you gotsportin' blood enough to know the difference between a high-stationgame-cock and that old bow-legged Mormon down there scratchin' yourgarden-seeds?"

"Well, " replied the Cap'n, rather surlily, "I ain't to blame for whatI don't know about, and I don't know about hens, and I don't wantto 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'ntwice as strong. All is, don't lay it to me not warnin' you, if youlose your thousand-dollar hen!"

"Don't you wear your voice out tryin' to tell me about my businessin 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 possibleobservation by Louada Murilla, the Cap'n's wife, and by so doingshowed themselves plainly to any one who might be looking that wayfrom 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 peeringunder his palm from the shed door, evidently suspecting that thiscombination of his two chief foes meant something sinister. He cameout of the shed and walked down toward the fence when he saw themheaded for the garden. 

"Watchin' out for evidence in a law case, probably, " growled Cap'nSproul, the fear of onshore artfulness ever with him. "He'd rutherlaw it any time than have a fair fight, man to man, and that's thekind 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 littleas 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 theimpatient P. T. Between his hands. 

"Usually in a reg'lar match I scruffle his feathers and blow in hiseye, Cap'n, but I won't have to do it this time. It's too easy aproposition. I'm jest tellin' you about it so that if you ever gitinterested in fightin' hens after this, you'll be thankful to me fora pointer or two. "

"I won't begin to take lessons yet a while, " the Cap'n grunted. "Itain'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 sportingblood, he would take no unfair advantage by stealthy advance on thepreoccupied scratcher. He straddled, shook out his glossy ruff, andcrowed shrilly. 

The other rooster straightened up from his agricultural labors, andstared at this lone intruder on his family privacy. He was a tall, rakish-looking fowl, whose erect carriage and lack of tail-feathersmade him look like a spindle-shanked urchin as he towered there amongthe busy hens. 

In order that there might be no mistake as to his belligerentintentions, 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'ssomething 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 henthe first shuffle. "

"You will, hey?" bawled Reeves, sarcastically. "Say, you didn'tbring them three shells and rubber pea that you used to make yourlivin' with, did ye?"

The old showman gasped, and his face grew purple. "I licked him twentyyears ago for startin' that lie about me, " he said, bending blazingglance on the Cap'n. "Damn the expense! I'm goin' over there and killhim!"

"Wait till your rooster kills his, and then take the remains and bathis brains out with 'em, " advised the Cap'n, swelling with equalwrath. "Look! He's gettin' at him!"

P. T. Put his head close to the ground, his ring of neck-feathersglistening in the sun, then darted forward, rising in air as he didso. The other rooster, who had been awaiting his approach, stifflyerect, 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. Underbonds to keep the peace? Yah-h-h-h! You're all cowards. "

The game-cock, accustomed to meet the bravery of true champions ofthe pit, stood for a little while and stared at this shifty foe. Hemust have decided that he was dealing with a poltroon with whomscience and prudence were not needed. He stuck out his neck and ranat Long-legs, evidently expecting that Long-legs would turn and fleein a panic. Long-legs jumped to let him pass under, and came downon the unwary P. T. With the crushing force of his double bulk. Thesplay feet flattened the game-cock to the ground, and, while he laythere helpless, this victor-by-a-fluke began to peck and tear at hishead 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 theconqueror, 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 championfrom the dirt, "but"--making hasty survey of the bleeding head--"butthe jeebingoed cannibal has et one gill and pretty near pecked hiscomb off. It wa'n't square! It wa'n't square!" he bellowed, advancingtoward the fence where Reeves was leaning. "Ye tried to kill athousand-dollar bird by a skin-game, and I'll have it out of yourhide. "

Reeves pulled a pole out of the fence. 

"Don't ye come across here, " he gritted. "I'll brain ye! It was yourown rooster-fight. You put it up. You got licked. What's the matterwith you?" A grin of pure satisfaction curled under his beard. 

"You never heard of true sport. You don't know what it means. He stoodon 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. Withquivering hand. 

"Fair!" sneered Reeves. "You're talkin' as though this was aprize-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'slicked, and there ain't nothin' more to it. "

"That's your idee of sport, is it?" demanded Hiram, stooping to wipehis bloody hand on the grass. 

"It's my idee of a rooster-fight, " retorted Reeves. In his triumphhe was not unwilling to banter repartee with the hateful Hiram. "Youfellers with what you call sportin' blood"--he sneered thewords--"come along and think nobody else can't do anything right butyou. You fetch along cat-meat with feathers on it"--he pointed atthe vanquished P. T. --"and expect it to stand any show with a realfighter. " Now he pointed to the Widow Pike's rooster sauntering awaywith his harem about him. "He ain't rid' around with a circus norfollowed the sportin' life, and he's al'ays lived in the country andminded his own business, but he's good for a whole crateful of yoursportin' blooders--and so long as he licks, it don't make nodifference how he does it. "

The personal reference in this little speech was too plain for Hiramto disregard. 

His hard eyes narrowed, and hatred of this insolent countryman blazedthere. The countryman glared back with just as fierce bitterness. 

"Mebbe you've got money to back your opinion of Widder Pike's henthere?" suggested the showman. "Money's the only thing that seemsto 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 thevictorious champion who had defeated this redoubtable bird so easily. His Yankee shrewdness told him that the showman had undoubtedlyproduced his best for this conflict; his Yankee cupidity hinted thatby taking advantage of Hiram's present flustered state of mind hemight turn a dollar. He glanced from Hiram to Cap'n Sproul, standingat 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, andhitchin' 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 collectin some that's due me. Farmin' ain't such ready-money as the circusbus'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 hisarm. 

And, as it was near dinner-time, Cap'n Sproul trudged into his ownhouse, his mien thoughtful and his air subdued. 

On his next visit to Hiram, the Cap'n didn't know which was the mostpreoccupied--the showman sitting in the barn door at Imogene's feet, or the battered P. T. Propped disconsolately on one leg. Both weregazing at the ground with far-away stare, and Hiram was not much moreconversational than the rooster. 

The next day Hiram drove into the Sproul dooryard and called out theCap'n, refusing to get out of his wagon. 

"I shall be away a few days--mebbe more, mebbe less. I leave timeand 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 afterseveral days of rumination. His own abstraction during that time, and the unexplained absence of Hiram, the bridegroom of a month, anabsence that was prolonged into a week, caused secret tears andapprehensive imaginings in both households. 

Hiram came back, mysterious as the Sphinx. 

Cap'n Sproul arranged for a secret meeting of the principals behindhis 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 andsuspectin' somethin'. Some old pick-ed nose in this place is boundto see us if we try to sneak away into the woods. Jim Wixon, thepoor-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 placeas safe as the poor-farm barn. Folks don't go hangin' round apoor-farm unless they have to. It's for there the ev'nin' before theFourth. Agree, or count me out. The first selectman of this town can'tafford to take too many chances, aidin' and abettin' a hen-fight. "

Therefore there was nothing else for it. The principals acceptedsullenly, and went their ways. 

The taciturnity of Hiram Look was such during the few days beforethe meeting that Cap'n Sproul regretfully concluded to keep to hisown hearthstone. Hiram seemed to be nursing a secret. The Cap'n felthurt, and admitted as much to himself in his musings. 

He went alone to the rendezvous at early dusk. Keeper Wixon, of thepoor-farm, had the big floor of the barn nicely swept, had hunglanterns about on the wooden harness-pegs, and was in a state of greatexcitement and impatience. 

Second Selectman Reeves came first, lugging his crate from hisbeach-wagon. The crate held the Widow Pike's rooster. His nominationhad his head up between the slats, and was crowing regularly andraucously. 

"Choke that dam fog-horn off!" commanded the Cap'n. "What are yetryin' 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 outof breath. Hands off, and a fair show!"

Hiram Look was no laggard at the meeting. He rumbled into the yardon the box of one of his animal cages, pulled out a huge bag containingsomething that kicked and wriggled, and deposited his burden on thebarn floor. 

"Now, " said he, brusquely, "business before pleasure! You've got thestakes, eh, Wixon?"

"In my wallet here--a thousand dollars, " replied the keeper, a littlecatch in his voice at thought of the fortune next his anxious heart. 

"And the best hen takes the money; no flummery, no filigree!" putin Reeves. 

Hiram was kneeling beside his agitated bag, and was picking at theknots in its fastening. "This will be a hen-fight served up Smyrnastyle, " he said, grimly. "And, as near as I can find out, that styleis mostly--scrambled!"

"I've got a favor to ask, " stammered Wixon, hesitatingly. "It don'tmean much to you, but it means a good deal to others. Bein' pennedup on a poor-farm, with nothin' except three meals a day to take upyour mind, is pretty tough on them as have seen better days. I'llleave it to Cap'n Sproul, here, if I ain't tried to put a littlekindness 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 bigshow is about to begin. "

"I want to invite in the boys, " blurted Wixon. And when they blinkedat him amazedly, he said:

"The five old fellers that's here, I mean. They're safe and mum, andthey're jest dyin' for a little entertainment, and it's only kindnessto them that's unfortunate, if you--"

"What do you think this is, a livin'-picture show got up to amusea set of droolin' old paupers?" demanded Hiram, with heat. 

"Well, as it is, they suspect suthin', " persisted Wixon. "All theyhave 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 shettheir 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 blamefor it. "

The two selectmen protested, official alarm in their faces, but Hiramsuddenly took the keeper's side, after the manner of his impetuousnature, and after he had shrewdly noted that Reeves seemed to be mostalarmed. 

"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-farmmyself. Bring 'em in. There's prob'ly more sportin' blood in thepaupers of this town than in the citizens. Bring 'em in, and let'shave talkin' done with. "

In a suspiciously short time Wixon led in his charges--five hobblingold men, all chewing tobacco and looking wondrously interested. 

"There!" said Hiram, an appreciative glint in his eyes. "Nothin' likehavin' an audience, even if they did come in on passes. I've nevergiven a show before empty benches yet. And now, gents"--the oldspirit of the "barker" entered into him--"you are about to beholda moral and elevatin' exhibition of the wonders of natur'. I haveexplored the jungles of Palermo, the hills of Peru Corners, thevalleys of North Belgrade, never mindin' time and expense, and I'vegot something that beats the wild boy Tom and his little sister Mary. Without takin' more of your valuable time, I will now present to yourattention"--he tore open the bag--"Cap'n Kidd, the Terror of theMountains. "

The wagging jaws of the old paupers stopped as if petrified. KeeperWixon peered under his hand and retreated a few paces. Even doughtyCap'n Sproul, accustomed to the marvels of land and sea, snapped hiseyes. As for Reeves, he gasped "Great gorlemity!" under his breath, and sat down on the edge of his crate, as though his legs had givenout. 

The creature that rose solemnly up from the billowing folds of thebagging had a head as smooth and round as a door-knob, dangling, purple wattles under its bill, and breast of a sanguinary red, pickedclean of feathers. There were not many feathers on the fowl, anyway. Its tail was merely a spreading of quills like spikes. It was proppedon legs like stilts, and when it stretched to crow it stood up astall 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'snear enough to a hen for fightin' purposes in this town--accordin'to what I've seen of the sport here, " insisted the showman. "Theprincipal 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'tgot so much pedigree as some I've owned, but as a stander and peckerI'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 hereis something that I reckon ye won't go to law about, " the showmanwent 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, andpried a slat off the crate. His nomination was more sanguine thanhe. The rooster hopped upon the crate, crowed, and stalked out ontothe barn floor with a confidence that made Reeves perk up couragea bit. 

Cap'n Kidd showed abstraction rather than zeal. He was busily engagedin squinting along his warty legs, and at last detected two or threeobjects that were annoying him. He picked them off leisurely. Thenhe ran his stiff and scratchy wing down his leg, yawned, and seemedbored. 

When the other rooster ran across and pecked him viciously on hisred expanse of breast, he cocked his head sideways and looked downwonderingly on this rude assailant. Blood trickled from the wound, and Reeves giggled nervously. Cap'n Sproul muttered something andlooked apprehensive, but Hiram, his eyes hard and his lips set, crouched at the side of the floor, and seemed to be waitingconfidently. 

Widow Pike's favorite stepped back, rapped his bill on the floorseveral times, and then ran at his foe once more. A second trail ofblood followed his blow. This time the unknown ducked his knobby headat the attacker. It looked like a blow with a slung-shot. But itmissed, 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 inthe past. But, apparently having tested the courage of this enemy, he changed his tactics, leaped, and flew at Cap'n Kidd with spurringfeet. 

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 likea vise, shutting off his last, startled squawk. Then Cap'n Kidddarted forward that knobby head with its ugly beak, and tore offPeter's caput with one mighty wrench. 

"'Tain't fair! It's jest as I said it was! 'Tain't square!" screamedReeves. 

But Hiram strode forward, snapping authoritative fingers underWixon's nose. "Hand me that money!" he gritted, and Wixon, his eyeson the unhappy bird writhing in Cap'n Kidd's wicked grasp, made nodemur. The showman took it, even as the maddened Reeves was clutchingfor the packet, tucked it into his breast pocket, and drove the secondselectman back with a mighty thrust of his arm. The selectmanstumbled over the combatants and sat down with a shock that clickedhis 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 throughthis exit Cap'n Kidd flapped with hoarse cries, whether of triumphor fright no one could say. 

The lanterns' light shone on Widow Sidenia Pike, her face white fromthe scare "Cap'n Kidd's" rush past her head had given her, but withdetermination written large in her features. 

She gazed long at Reeves, sitting on the floor beside the defunctrooster. 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 firsthusband's gravestun'. And when you couldn't git it by lyin', youstole it off'm the roost to-night. And to make sure there won't beany 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 foundye 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'sdown--and--and her eyes was so much on Reeves and the rooster I don'tbelieve 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 ofBat Reeves's engagements was busted in this town. He don't seem tohave no luck at all in marryin' farms with the wimmen throwed in. "The Cap'n didn't appear interested in Reeves's troubles. His eyeswere 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. "AndI'm pretty well up on freaks, too, as a circus man ought to be. Ijest went out huntin' for suthin' to fit in with the sportin' bloodas I found it in this place--and I reckon I got it! Mebbe 'twas acassowary, mebbe 'twas a dodo--the man himself didn't know--saideven the hen that hatched it didn't seem to know. 'Pologized to mefor asking me two dollars for it, and I gave him five. I hope it willgo back where it come from. It hurt my eyes to look at it. But itwas a good bargain!" He patted his breast pocket. 

"Come over to-morrow, " he called to the Cap'n as he drove away. "Isha'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 voiceand a woman's shrill, insistent tones, a monotony of sound flowingon--and on--and on!

XI

The president of the "Smyrna Agricultural Fair and Gents' DrivingAssociation" had been carrying something on his mind throughout themeeting of the trustees of the society--the last meeting before thedate advertised for the fair. And now, not without a bit ofapprehensiveness, he let it out. 

"I've invited the Honer'ble J. Percival Bickford to act as thestarter 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, " ravedWallace, his little eyes popping like marbles. 

"I don't like to hear a man that's done so much for his native towncalled by any such names, " retorted the president, ready to showtemper himself, to hide his embarrassment. "He's come back hereand--"

Trustee Wallace now stood up and cracked his bony knuckles on thetable, his weazened face puckered with angry ridges. 

"I don't need to have a printed catalogue of what Jabe Bickford hasdone for this town. And I don't need to be told what he's done itfor. He's come back from out West, where he stole more money thanhe knew what to do with, and--"

"I protest!" cried President Thurlow Kitchen. "When you say that theHoner'ble J. Percival Bickford has stolen--"

"Well, promoted gold-mines, then! It's only more words to say thesame thing. And he's back here spendin' his loose change for dailydoses of hair-oil talk fetched to him by the beggin' old suckers ofthis place. "

"I may be a beggin' old sucker, " flared the president, "but I've hadenterprise enough and interest in this fair enough to get Mr. Bickford to promise us a present of a new exhibition hall, and it'sonly right to extend some courtesy to him in return. "

"It was all right to make him president of the lib'ry associationwhen he built the lib'ry, make him a deacon when he gave the organfor the meetin'-house, give him a banquet and nineteen speechestellin' him he was the biggest man on earth when he put the stonewatering-trough in--all that was all right for them that thought itwas all right. But when you let 'Kittle-belly' Bickford--"

"Don't you call him that, " roared President Kitchen, thumping thetable. 

"Duke, then! Dammit, crown him lord of all! But when you let him hangthat pod of his out over the rail of that judges' stand and bust upa hoss-trot programmy that I've been three months gettin' entriesfor--and all jest so he can show off a white vest and a plug hat anda new gold stop-watch and have the band play 'Hail to the Chief'--Idon'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 thatall 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-miletrack. "

"And you and 'Kit'--you and Duke Jabe, leave you alone to run afair--wouldn't have northin' but his new exhibition hall filled withcroshayed tidies and hooked rugs. "

"Well, I move, " broke in Trustee Dunham, "that we git som'ers. I'mpersonally in favor of pleasin' Honer'ble Bickford and takin' theexhibition hall. "

"That's right! That's business!" came decisive chorus from the otherthree trustees. "Let's take the hall. "

Wallace doubled his gaunt form, propped himself on the table by hisskinny arms, and stared from face to face in disgust unutterable. 

"Take it?" he sneered. "Why, you'll take anything! You're takin' upthe 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 thedevil had ye before you're done with that old balloon with a plughat on it in your judges' stand, then I'll trot an exhibition halfmile 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 wakea trailing of oaths and a bouquet of stable aroma, the trustees showedrelief, even if enthusiasm was notably absent. 

"It's going to raise the tone of the fair, having him in thestand--there ain't any getting round that, " said the president. "Thenotion seemed to strike him mighty favorable. 'It's an idea!' saidhe to me. 'Yes, a real idea. I will have other prominent gentlemento 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 townwas best fixed financially, and, of course, I told him Cap'n AaronSproul, our first selectman, and Hiram Look. He said he hadn't beenin town long enough to get real well acquainted with either of themyet, but hoped they were gentlemen. I told him they were. I reckonthat being skipper of a ship and ownin' a circus stands as high asthe gold-mine business. "

"Well, " said one of the trustees, with some venom, "Jabe Bickfordis doin' a good deal for this town, one way and another, but he wantsto remember that his gran'ther had to call on us for town aid, andthat there wa'n't nary ever another Bickford that lived in this townor went out of it, except Jabe, that could get trusted for a barrelof flour. Puttin' on his airs out West is all right, but puttin' 'emon 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 tocall him by that name he did, but Si is talkin' the way a good manyfeel. "

"If an angel from heaven should descend on this town with the giftof abidin' grace, " said President Kitchen, sarcastically, "a lot offolks here would get behind his back and make faces at him. "

"Prob'ly would, " returned the trustee, imperturbably, "if said angelwore a plug hat and kid gloves from mornin' till night, said 'Me goodman' to old codgers who knowed him when he had stone-bruises on hisheels as big as pigeon's aigs, and otherwise acted as though he wascream and every one else was buttermilk. "

"Well, when some of the rest of you have done as much for this townas Honer'ble Bickford, " broke in the president, testily, "you canhave the right to criticise. As it is, I can't see anything butjealousy in it. And I've heard enough of it. Now, to make this thingall pleasant and agreeable to the Honer'ble Bickford, we've got tohave 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 triedto notify Cap'n Sproul of honors tendered to him in this town, you'dbetter 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 thepresident. "He's just enough of a circus feller to like to stand upbefore the crowd and show authority. Well, then"--the president'swits were sharpened by his anxiety over the proposed exhibitionhall--"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 adjournedin excellent humor that made light of all the gloomy prognosticationsof Trustee Wallace. 

As though good-fortune were in sooth ruling the affairs of the SmyrnaA. F. & G. D. A. , Hiram Look came driving past as the trustees came outof the tavern, their meeting-place. 

He stroked his long mustache and listened. At first his silk hat stuckup rigidly, but soon it began to nod gratified assent. 

"I don't know much about hoss-trottin' rules, but a man that's beenin the show business for thirty years has got enough sportin' bloodin 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'llsettle preliminaries, or whatever the hoss-talk is for gettin'together. I'd rather referee a prize-fight, but you're too dead upthis 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" withmuch content of spirit. He cheerfully accepted Hiram's invitationto take a ride, destination not mentioned, and they jogged awaytoward "Bickburn Towers, " as the Honorable J. Percival had named theremodelled farm-house of his ancestors. 

Hiram, whose gift was language, impetuous in flow and convincing inargument, whether as barker or friend, conveyed the message of thetrustees to Cap'n Sproul. But the first selectman of Smyrna did notdisplay enthusiasm. He scowled at the buggy dasher and was silent. 

"Men that have been out and about, like you and I have been, needsomething 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 histhumb in direction of the "gingerbready" tower of the Bickford placerising over the ridge, "marooned in that judges' stand like penguinson a ledge--we'll be li'ble to break the monotony. Oh yes! There ain'tno 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'bleBickford will finger that new gold stop-watch of his and see how fastthey do it. Northin' to it, I say!"

"This is the blastedest town a man ever settled down in to spend hislast days in peace and quietness, " growled the Cap'n. "There's a setof 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 theoutside 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 aman comin' to offer you what they call an honor, kick him on generalprinciples, and kick him hard. "

"Doctors ought to be willin' to take their own medicine, " retortedHiram, grimly. "Here you be, first selec'man and--"

"They caught me when I wa'n't lookin'--not bein' used to the waysof land-piruts, " replied the Cap'n, gloomily. "I was tryin' to warnyou 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 allmy wanderin's, they wouldn't elect me so much as hog-reeve--seemedto be down on me all 'round. But here--heard what they did lastnight?" There was pride in his tones. "They elected me foreman ofthe 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, andpuckerin'-string bag are in my front hall this minit, " said Hiram, cheerily, "and the wife is gittin' the stuff together for the feedand blow-out next week. I'm goin' to do it up brown!"

The Cap'n opened his mouth as though to enter upon revelations. Buthe shut it without a word. 

"It ain't no use, " he reflected, his mind bitter with the memoriesof his own occupancy of that office. "It's like the smallpox and themeasles; you've got to have a run of 'em yourself before you're safefrom ketchin' 'em. "

The Honorable J. Percival Bickford, rotund and suave with themushiness 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 longcigars. Cap'n Sproul sat on the edge of a spider-legged chair, greatunhappiness on his countenance. Mr. Bickford was both charmed anddelighted, so he said, by their acceptance, and made it known thathe had suggested them, in his anxiety to have only gentlemen ofstanding 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 fromthe herd. In the judges' stand we can, as you might say, be patronsof the sports of the day, without loss of dignity. I believe--andthis is also my suggestion--that the trustees are to provide an openbarouche, and we will be escorted from the gate to the stand by aband of music. That will be nice. And when it is over we will awardthe 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 thatthrough a megaphone. When I barked in front of my show you could hearme a mile. "

"It will all be very nice, " said Mr. Bickford, daintily fleckingcigar ash from his glorious white waistcoat. "Er--by the way--I seethat 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 certainthings 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 bandboxin the hall closet. It's one of my hats, " he explained. "I haveseveral. You may wear it in the stand, with my compliments, CaptainSproul. Then we'll be three of a kind, eh? Ha, ha!"

The Cap'n licked his lips as though fever burned there, and workedhis Adam's apple vigorously. Probably if he had been in theaccustomed freedom of outdoors he would have sworn soulfully andsmashed the bandbox over the Honorable J. Percival's bald head. Now, in the stilted confines of that ornate parlor, he nursed the bandboxon his knees, as part of the rest of the spider-legged and frailsurroundings. When they retired to their team he carried the bandboxheld gingerly out in front of him, tiptoeing across the polishedfloor. 

"What? Me wear that bird-cage?" he roared, when they were out ofhearing. "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 intothe roadside bushes, and after a moment tucked the thing under theseat to have it out of the way of his tempted hands. Then he wrenchedoff a huge chew of tobacco whose rumination might check his impulsetoward 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 racehe carried it in its box to the selectman's office, at which commonmeeting-place the three judges were to be taken up by the officialbarouche of the Smyrna Fair Association. 

Under the commanding eye of Hiram Look he put on the head-gear whenthe barouche was announced at the door, and went forth into the glareof publicity with a furtive sense of shame that flushed his cheek. By splitting the top of his hack, Ferd Parrott, landlord of Smyrnatavern, had produced a vehicle that somewhat resembled half awatermelon. Ferd drove, adorned also with a plug hat from the stockof the Honorable Percival. 

Just inside the gate of the fair-grounds waited the Smyrna "SilverCornet Band. " It struck up "Hail to the Chief, " to the violent alarmof 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 theedge 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 thestand, and the crowd broke into plaudits, Cap'n Sproul felt a bitmore comfortable, and dared to straighten his neck and lift hishead-gear further into the sunshine. 

He even forgot the hateful presence of his seat-mate, a huge dog thatMr. 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 bestfriends--the horse and the dog--and Hector will be in his element. "

But Hector, wagging and slavering amiably about in the narrowconfines of the little stand to which they climbed, snapped theCap'n's leash of self-control ere five minutes passed. 

"Say, Mr. Bickford, " he growled, after one or two efforts to crowdpast the ubiquitous canine and get to the rail, "either me or yourdog is in the way here. "

"Charge, Hector!" commanded Mr. Bickford, taking one eye from thecheering multitude. The dog "clumped" down reluctantly. 

"We might just as well get to an understandin', " said the Cap'n, notyet 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 asintelligent as a man, as mild as a kitten, and a very--"

"Don't care if he's writ a dictionary and nussed infants, " cried theCap'n, slatting out his arm defiantly; "it's him or me, here; takeyour choice!"

"I--I think your dog would be all right if you let him staydown-stairs under the stand, " ventured President Kitchen, diplomatically. 

"He's a valuable animal, " demurred Mr. Bickford, "and--" He caughtthe flaming eye of the Cap'n, and added: "But if you'll have a mansit 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 tosignal the horses to start, is it?"

"No, no!" expostulated President Kitchen, "you pull that bell-cordto call them back if the field isn't bunched all right at the wirewhen they score down for the word. If all the horses are in positionand 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 successof his strange assortment of judges, yet with heart almost failinghim, "for each judge to have certain horses that he watches duringthe mile for breaks or fouls. Then he places them as they come underthe wire. That is so one man won't have too much on his mind. "

"Very, very nice!" murmured the Honorable J. Percival. "We are hereto enjoy the beautiful day and the music and the happy throngs, andwe don't want to be too much taken up with our duties. " He pushedhimself well out into view over the rail, held his new gold watchin 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 ofthe judge's aerie. There was a drop-door over the opening, held upby a hasp. 

Now came a thumping of resolute feet on the stairs; a head projectedjust 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 ofdisgust. 

It was Marengo Todd, most obnoxious of all that hateful crowd of theCap'n's "wife's relations"--the man who had misused the Cap'n'shoneymoon guilelessness in order to borrow money and sell himspavined horses. 

Marengo surveyed them gloomily from under a driving-cap visor hugeas a sugar-scoop. He flourished at them a grimy sheet of paper. 

"Mister President, trustees, and judges, I've got here a dockymentsigned by seventeen--"

President Kitchen knew that Marengo Todd had been running hisbow-legs off all the forenoon securing signatures to a petition ofprotest that had been inspired by Trustee Silas Wallace. Thepresident pushed away the hand that brandished the paper. 

"What do you take this for--an afternoon readin'-circle?" hedemanded. "If you're goin' to start your hoss in this thirty-fourclass you want to get harnessed. We're here to trot hosses, not toperuse dockyments. "

"This 'ere ain't no pome on spring, " yelled Marengo, banging the dustout of the floor with his whip-butt and courageously coming up onestep 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 thingclear up to the Nayshunal 'Sociation and show up this fair management. There, chaw on that!"

"Why, bless my soul!" chirruped the Honorable Bickford, "this manseems very much excited. You'll have to run away, my good man! We'revery 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 salariedspittoon-cleaners, " squealed Marengo, emboldened by the hoarse andencouraging whispers of Trustee Wallace in the dim depths below. Thename that much repetition by Wallace had made familiar slipped outbefore he had time for second thought. "I knowed ye, Kittle-bellyBickford, when ye wore patches on your pants bigger'n dinner-platesand--"

President Kitchen let loose the hasp that held up the drop-door andfairly "pegged" Mr. Todd out of sight. He grinned apologetically ata 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 todo to take his mind off present matters. 

Mr. Bickford obeyed, finding this exercise of authority a partialsop to his wounded feelings. 

Cap'n Sproul pendulumed dispiritedly to and fro in the littleenclosure, gloomily and obstinately waiting for the disaster thathis seaman's sense of impending trouble scented. Hiram Look wasfrankly and joyously enjoying a scene that revived his old circusmemories. 

Eleven starters finally appeared, mostly green horses. The driverswere sullen and resentful. Marengo Todd was up behind a Gothic ruinthat he called "Maria M. " When he jogged past the judges' stand toget position, elbows on his knees and shoulders hunched up, the glarethat he levelled on Bickford from under his scoop visor wasabsolutely demoniac. The mutter of his denunciation could be heardabove the yells of the fakers and the squawk of penny whistles. 

Occasionally he scruffed his forearm over his head as though fondlingsomething that hurt him. 

To start those eleven rank brutes on that cow-lane of a track wouldhave tested the resources and language of a professional. When theyswung at the foot of the stretch and came scoring for the first timeit 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 blastthe Honorable J. Percival with his glances, he was not down to turnwith the others, and now came pelting a dozen lengths behind, howlinglike a Modoc. 

Some railbird satirist near the wire bawled "Go!" as the unspeakableriot swept past in dust-clouds. The Honorable Bickford had earlypossessed himself of the bell-cord as his inalienable privilege. Hedid not ring the bell to call the field back. He merely leaned farout, clutching the cord, endeavoring to get his eye on the man whohad shouted "Go!" He declaimed above the uproar that the man who woulddo such a thing as that was no gentleman, and declared that he shouldcertainly have a constable arrest the next man who interfered withhis duties. 

In the mean time President Kitchen was frantically calling to himto ring the gong. The horses kept going, for a driver takes no chancesof losing a heat by coming back to ask questions. It was differentin the case of Marengo Todd, driver of the pole-horse, and entitledto "protection. " He pulled "Maria M. " to a snorting halt under thewire and poured forth the vials of his artistic profanity in a waythat piqued Cap'n Sproul's professional interest, he having heardmore or less eminent efforts in his days of seafaring. 

Lashed in this manner, the Honorable J. Percival Bickford beganretort of a nature that reminded his fellow-townsmen that he was"Jabe" Bickford, of Smyrna, before he was donor of public benefitsand libraries. 

The grimness of Cap'n Sproul's face relaxed a little. He forgot eventhe incubus of the plug hat. He nudged Hiram. 

"I didn't know he had it in him, " he whispered. "I was afraid he wasjest 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 boundingout from under the stand and frisked backward toward the centre ofthe track in order to get a square look at his lord. In this blindprogress he bumped against the nervous legs of "Maria M. " Shepromptly expressed her opinion of the Bickford family and itsattaches by rattling the ribs of Hector by a swift poke with her hoof. 

The dog barked one astonished yap of indignation and came back witha snap that started the crimson on "Maria's" fetlock. She kicked himbetween the eyes this time--a blow that floored him. The next instant"Maria M. " was away, Todd vainly struggling with the reins andtrailing the last of his remarks over his shoulder. The dog was noquitter. He appeared to have the noble blood of which his master hadboasted. After a dizzy stagger, he shot away after his assailant--acloud 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, "MariaM. , " and Hector were, by general impulse, allowed to become the wholeshow. 

When the mare came under the wire the first time two swipes attemptedto stop her by the usual method of suddenly stretching a blanketbefore her. She spread her legs and squatted. Todd shot forward. Themare had a long, stiff neck. Her driver went astraddle of it and stuckthere 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 timewith a vigor that brought a squeal of fright and pain out of her. She went over the blanket and away again. The dog, having receivedanother kick, and evidently realizing that he was still "it" in thisgrotesque game of tag, kept up the chase. 

No one who was at Smyrna fair that day ever remembered just how manytimes the antagonists circled the track. But when the mare at lastbegan to labor under the weight of her rider, a half-dozen men rushedout 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 abovehis head. "Whose is that dog? I've got a right to kill him, and I'mgoing to. Show yourself over that rail, you old sausage, with a plughat on it, and tell me what you mean by a send-off like that! Whatdid I tell ye, trustees? It's happened. I'll kill that dog. "

"I want you to understand, " bellowed the Honorable Bickford, usingthe megaphone, "you are talking about my dog--a dog that is worthmore dollars than that old knock-kneed plug of yours has got hairsin 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 onme, " howled Marengo. "I heard ye siss him!"

The Honorable J. Percival seemed to be getting more into the spiritof the occasion. 

"You're a cross-eyed, wart-nosed liar!" he retorted, with greatalacrity. 

"I'll stump ye down here, " screamed Todd. "I can lick you and yourdog, both together. "

"If I was in your place, " said "Judge" Hiram Look, his interest inhorse-trotting paling beside this more familiar phase of sport, "I'dgo down and cuff his old chops. You'll have the crowd with you ifyou do. "

But Mr. Bickford, though trembling with rage, could not bring himselfto correlate fisticuffs and dignity. 

"He is a miserable, cheap horse-jockey, and I shall treat him withthe contempt he deserves, " he blustered. "If it hadn't been for mydog 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 wrathfulvoice of Trustee Silas Wallace, of the horse department. After quitea struggle he had managed to tip President Kitchen off the trap-doorand had ascended. "We never will have any, either, " he shouted, shaking his finger under the president's nose. "What did I tell youwould happen? We'll be reported to the National Association. "

The crowd across the way roared and barked like beasts of prey, andthe insistent and shrill staccato of Marengo Todd sounded over all. 

Cap'n Sproul deliberately and with much decision took off his silkhat and held it toward the Honorable Bickford. 

"I resign!" he said. "I was shanghaied into this thing against mygood judgment, and it's come out just as I expected it would. It ain'tno place for me, and I resign!"

"It isn't any place for gentlemen, " agreed Mr. Bickford, ignoringthe proffered hat. "We seem to be thrown in among some very vulgarpeople, " he went on, his ear out for Marengo's taunts, his eyes boringTrustee Wallace. "It is not at all as I supposed it would be. Youcannot expect us to be patrons of the races under these circumstances, Mr. Kitchen. You will please call our barouche. We leave in greatdispleasure. "

"I don't give a red hoorah how you leave, so long as you leave beforeyou've busted up this fair--trot programmy and all, " retorted Mr. Wallace, bridling. "I've got three men waitin' ready to come intothis stand. They don't wear plug hats, but they know the diff'runcebetween a dog-fight and a hoss-trot. "

"Take this! I don't want it no more, " insisted the Cap'n, stung bythis repeated reference to plug hats. He poked the head-gear at Mr. Bickford. But that gentleman brushed past him, stumped down thestairs, and strode into the stretch before the stand, loudly callingfor the carriage. 

Marengo Todd, accepting his sudden and defiant appearance as gageof battle, precipitately withdrew, leaping the fence anddisappearing under the grand-stand. 

It was five minutes or more ere the barouche appeared, Mr. Parrottrequiring to be coaxed by President Kitchen to haul the threedisgraced dignitaries away. He seemed to sniff a mob sentiment thatmight damage his vehicle. 

Mr. Bickford's two associates followed him from the stand, the Cap'nabashed and carrying the tall hat behind his back, Hiram Lookmuttering disgusted profanity under his long mustache. 

"I want to say, gentlemen, " cried Mr. Bickford, utilizing theinterval of waiting to address the throng about him, "that you haveno right to blame my dog. He is a valuable animal and a great familypet, and he only did what it is his nature to do. "

Marengo Todd was edging back into the crowd, his coat off andsomething 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 natureprovided. "

"Fam'ly pets, then, has a right to do as it is their nature for todo?" squealed Todd, working nearer. 

Mr. Bickford scornfully turned his back on this vulgar railer. Thecarriage 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 theamiable Hector, who would have preceded him. When the Honorable J. Percival stepped in, some one slammed the carriage-door so quicklyon 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 thanthem you're cultivatin'. Take 'em home and study 'em. "

He climbed on the wheel and shook out of the folds of his coat ahornets' nest that he had discovered during his temporary exile underthe grand-stand. It dropped into Mr. Bickford's lap, and with a swatof 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 fleeingMarengo, and fell over the side of the carriage. His coat-tail heldfast in the door, and suspended him, his toes and fingers justtouching the ground. When he jumped he threw the nest as far as hecould, and it fell under the horses. Hiram endeavored to open thehack-door as the animals started--but who ever yet opened a hack-doorin a hurry?

Cap'n Aaron Sproul's first impulse was the impulse of the sailor whobeholds dangerous top-hamper dragging at a craft's side in a squall. He out with his big knife and cut off the Honorable Bickford'scoat-tails with one mighty slash, and that gentleman rolled in thedust over the hornets' nest, just outside the wheels, as the carriageroared away down the stretch. 

Landlord Parrott was obliged to make one circuit of the track beforehe could control his steeds, but the triumphal rush down the lengthof the yelling grand-stand was an ovation that Cap'n Sproul did notrelish. He concealed the hateful plug hat between his knees, andscowled 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 thedust behind. 

Mr. Bickford fingered the ragged edge of his severed coat-tails, andkept his thoughts to himself during his ride. 

When the old lady Sampson called at the Towers next day with asubscription paper to buy a carpet for the Baptist vestry, Jamesinformed her that Mr. Bickford had gone out West to look after hisbusiness interests. 

When Hiram Look set Cap'n Aaron Sproul down at his door that afternoonhe emphasized the embarrassed silence that had continued during theride by driving away without a word. Equally as saturnine, Cap'nSproul walked through his dooryard, the battered plug hat in his hand, paying no heed to the somewhat agitated questions of his wife. Shewatched his march into the corn-field with concern. 

She saw him set the hat on the head of a scarecrow whose constructionhad occupied his spare hours, and in which he felt some little pride. But after surveying the result a moment he seemed to feel that hehad insulted a helpless object, for he took the hat off, spat intoit, and kicked it into shapeless pulp. Then he came back to the houseand grimly asked his wife if she had anything handy to take the poisonout of hornet stings. 

XIII

In Newry, on the glorious Fourth of July, the Proud Bird of Freedomwears a red shirt, a shield hat, and carries a speaking-trumpetclutched under one wing. From the court-house--Newry is the county'sshire town--across to the post-office is stretched the well-wornbanner:

 WELCOME TO THE COUNTY'S BRAVE FIRE-LADDIES

That banner pitches the key for Independence Day in Newry. The shirepatriotically jangles her half-dozen bells in the steeples atdaylight in honor of Liberty, and then gives Liberty a stick of candyand a bag of peanuts, and tells her to sit in the shade and keep hereye out sharp for the crowding events of the annual firemen's muster. This may be a cavalier way of treating Liberty, but perhaps Libertyenjoys it better than being kept on her feet all day, listening tospeeches and having her ear-drums split by cannon. Who knows? At allevents, Newry's programme certainly suits the firemen of the county, from Smyrna in the north to Carthage in the south. And the firemenof the county and their women are the ones who do their shopping inNewry! Liberty was never known to buy as much as a ribbon for herkimono there. 

So it's the annual firemen's muster for Newry's Fourth! Red shirtsin 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 paradewas forming! Small boys whiling away the tedium of waiting withsnap-crackers. Country teams loaded to the edges, and with littleJohnny scooched on a cricket in front, hustling down the line ofparade to find a nook. Anxious parents scuttling from side to sideof the street, dragging red-faced offspring with the same haste anduncertainty hens display to get on the other side of the road--havingno especial object in changing, except to change. Chatter of voices, hailings of old friends who signified delighted surprise byprofanity and affectionate abuse. Everlasting wailings of pennysquawkers!

Behold Newry ready for its annual: "See the Conquering Heroes Come!"

Uncle Brad Trufant stood on the post-office steps, dim anddiscontented eyes on the vista of Court Street, framed in thedrooping 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 andsome one forgettin' and cussin' once in a while, you'd think theywas classes from a theological seminary marchin' to get their degrees. I can remember when we came down from Vienny twenty years ago withold Niag'ry, and ev'ry man was over six feet tall, and most of 'emhad double teeth, upper and lower, all the way 'round. And all worered shirts. And ev'ry man had one horn, and most of 'em tew. We brokeglass when we hollered. We tore up ground when we jumped. We crackedthe 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 restof 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 ofthe parade gets past. I see 'em this mornin' when they unloaded HeclyOne and the trimmin's 'foresaid, and I'd advise you to wait a spellbefore you go to callin' this muster names. "

It became apparent a little later that hints of this sort were havingtheir effect on the multitude. Even the head of the great parade, with old John Burt, chief marshal, titupping to the grunt of brasshorns, stirred only perfunctory applause. The shouts for Avon'sstalwart 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, foursby the right, double-quick, and all the rest, but still the headsturned toward the elm-framed vista of the street. The people wereexpecting something. It came. 

Away down the street there sounded--raggity-tag! raggity-tag!--thetuck 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 thelistening ears. 

"And there's his pet elephant for a mascot! How's that for ForemanHiram Look and the Smyrna Ancients and Honer'bles?" squealed thevoice once more. 

The drum corps came first, twenty strong, snares and basses rattlingand booming, the fifers with arms akimbo and cheeks like bladders. 

Hiram Look, ex-showman and once proprietor of "Look's LeviathanCircus and Menagerie, " came next, lonely in his grandeur. He worehis leather hat, with the huge shield-fin hanging down his back, theword "Foreman" newly lettered on its curved front. He carried twoleather buckets on his left arm, and in his right hand flourishedhis speaking-trumpet. The bed-wrench, chief token of the antiquityof 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 circuswanderings, and whose old age he had sworn to protect and makepeaceful. A banner was hung from each ear, and she slouched alongat a brisk pace, in order to keep the person of her lord and masterwithin reach of her moist and wistful trunk. She wore a blanket onwhich was printed: "Imogene, Mascot of the Smyrna Ancients. " Imogenewas making herself useful as well as ornamental, for she washarnessed to the pole of "Hecla Number One, " and the old tub"ruckle-chuckled" along at her heels on its little red trucks. Fromits brake-bars hung the banners won in the past-and-gone victoriesof twenty years of musters. Among these was one inscribed"Champions. "

And behind Hecla marched, seventy-five strong, the Ancients ofSmyrna, augmented, by Hiram Look's enterprise, until they comprisednearly every able-bodied man in the old town. 

To beat and pulse of riotous drums and shrilling fifes they wereroaring choruses. It was the old war song of the organization, product of a quarter-century of rip-roaring defiance, crystallizedfrom 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. Horsesalong the line of march crouched, ducked sideways, and snorted inpanic. Women put their fingers in their ears as the drums passed. And when at the end of each verse the Ancients swelled theirred-shirted bosoms and screamed, Uncle Trufant hissed in the ear ofhis nearest neighbor on the post-office steps: "The only thing weneed 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 hadchosen his position with an eye to effect that made all the othercompanies seem to do mere escort duty. The orderly lines ofspectators poured together into the street behind, and went elbowingin noisy rout to the village square, the grand rallying-point andarena of the day's contests. There, taking their warriors' easebefore the battle, the Ancients, as disposed by their assiduousforeman, continued the centre of observation. 

Uncle Brad Trufant, nursing ancient memories of the prowess ofNiagara and the Viennese, voiced some of the sentiment of the enviouswhen he muttered: "Eatin', allus eatin'! The only fire they canhandle is a fire in a cook-stove. "

On this occasion Foreman Look had responded nobly to the well-knowngastronomic call of his Ancients. No one understood better than hethe importance of the commissary in a campaign. The dinner he hadgiven the Ancients to celebrate his election as foreman had shownhim the way to their hearts. 

Bringing up the rear had rumbled one of his circus-vans. Now, withthe eyes of the hungry multitude on him, he unlocked the doors anddisclosed an interior packed full of individual lunch-baskets. Hismen 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 bystandersinto his confidence, "you're never goin' to make any mistake infollowin' me. Follow me when duty calls--follow me when pleasurespeaks, 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 hisstubbly 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 ForemanLook, took stations at the van door and began to distribute thebaskets, whisperings announced that they were respectively the wivesof Cap'n Sproul and the foreman of Hecla One. The ladies wore red, white, and blue aprons, and rosettes of patriotic hues, and theirsmiling faces indicated their zest in their duties. 

Uncle Trufant, as a hound scents game, sniffed Cap'n Sproul's uneasyrebelliousness, and seemed to know with a sixth sense that onlyHiram's most insistent appeals to his friendship, coupled with thecoaxings of the women-folk, had dragged him down from Smyrna. UncleTrufant edged up to him and pointed wavering cane at the festive sceneof 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 ofa foreman them caterpillars is lookin' for. But if greenbacks growedall over him, like leaves on a tree, they'd keep at him till they'dgnawed 'em all off. "

He glowered at the briskly wagging jaws and stuffed cheeks of thefeeding proteges of Foreman Look. 

"I reckon he'll wake up some day, same's you did, and reelize whatthey're tryin' to do to him. What you ought to done was settle inVienny. We've heard out our way how them Smyrna bloodsuckers have--"

Cap'n Sproul whirled on the ancient detractor, whiskers bristlingangrily. 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 musterwas 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 citizenslike you, that's been dead ten years and ought to be buried, ain'twalkin' 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 bigbog that occupied Smyrna's interior. 

"Ducks are good property, " rejoined the Cap'n, serenely, "but I neverheard 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 theyonly do it because the sight of it makes 'em faint. "

Stimulated because bystanders were listening to the colloquy, UncleTrufant shook his cane under Cap'n Sproul's nose. 

"That's what ye be in Smyrna--ducks!" he squealed. "You yourself cometo 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 butwhat knows Smyrna never had the gristle to put up a fight man-fashionat a firemen's muster. Vienny can shake one fist at ye and run yeup a tree. Vienny has allus done it. Vienny allus will do it. Ye can'tfight!"

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 withthe makin' of a fire department? There's been too much fightin' inyears past. It's a lot of old terriers like you that had made firemenlooked down on. Your idee of fire equipment was a kag of new rum andplenty of brass knuckles. I can show ye that times has changed! Lookat that picture there!" He waved his hairy hand at the ladies whowere distributing the last of the lunch-baskets. "That's the way tocome to muster--come like gents, act like gents, eat like gents, andwhen it's all over march with your lady on your arm. "

"Three cheers for the ladies!" yelled an enthusiastic member of theSmyrna company. The cheers coming up had to crowd past food goingdown, but the effect was good, nevertheless. 

"That's the idea!" shouted Hiram. "Peace and politeness, andeverybody 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 therest of the day firin' rocks at each other. If Vienny stays here she'sgot to be genteel, like the rest of us--and the Smyrna Ancients willset 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 theladies' sewin'-circle. But if you've got fancy-work in themshoppin'-bags of your'n, and propose to set under the trees thisafternoon and do tattin', I wouldn't advise ye to keep singin' thatsong 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 glaredat the crowd surrounding--"we'll give ye a stream that the wholeVienny fire company can straddle and ride home on like it was ahobby-horse. " And, concluding thus, he fondled his long mustachesaway from his mouth and gazed on the populace with calm pride. Caesaron the plains of Pharsalia, Pompey triumphant on the shores of Africa, Alexander at the head of his conquering Macedonians had not moreserenity of countenance to display to the multitude. 

XIV

Up came trotting a brisk little man with a notebook in one hand, astubby lead-pencil in the other, a look of importance spread overhis 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 ColonelGideon Ward as referee. "

Hiram's eyes began to blaze, and Cap'n Sproul growled oaths underhis breath. During the weeks of their growing intimacy the Cap'n haddetailed to his friend the various phases of Colonel Gideon'siniquity as displayed toward him. Though the affairs of Hiram Lookhad not yet brought him into conflict with the ancient tyrant ofSmyrna, Hiram had warmly espoused the cause and the grudge of theCap'n. 

"I'll bet a thousand dollars against a jelly-fish's hind leg thathe begged the job so as to do you, " whispered Sproul. "I ain't beena 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-thistleto umpire this muster?" shouted the foreman of the Ancients, to theamazement 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 kickcomin'. 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 puthim 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 areafraid to have one of their own citizens as a referee?" demanded thebrisk little man suspiciously. "If that's so, then there must besomething decayed about your organization. "

"I don't think they're down here to squirt accordin' to the rulesmade and pervided, " went on the ancient Vienna satirist. "They'vebrought Bostin bags and a couple of wimmen, and are goin' to havea quiltin'-bee. P'raps they think that Kunnel Gid Ward don't knowa fish-bone stitch from an over-and-over. P'raps they think KunnelWard 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 itsplace. 

"By the jumped-up jedux, " he shouted, "you pass me any more of thattalk, you old hook-nosed cockatoo, and I'll slap your chops!"

The unterrified veteran of the Viennese brandished his cane toembrace the throng of his red-shirted townsmen, who had been crowdingclose to hear. At last his flint had struck the spark that flashedwith something of the good old times about it. 

"And what do you suppose the town of Vienny would be doin' whilstyou was insultin' the man who was the chief of old Niag'ry Companyfor twenty years?" he screamed. 

"There's one elephant that I know about that would be an orphin inabout fifteen seconds, " growled one of the loyal members of theVienna company, the lust of old days of rivalry beginning to stirin his blood. 

"Would, hey?" shouted an Ancient, with the alacrity of one who hasold-time grudges still unsettled. He put a sandwich back into hisbasket untasted, an ominous sign of how belligerency was overcomingappetite. "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 ofred shirts began to draw together, voices growling bodingly, fistsclinching, eyes narrowing with the reviving hatred of old contests. The triumphal entry of the Smyrna Ancients, their display ofprosperity, their monopoly of the plaudits and attention of thethrongs, the assumption of superior caste and manners, had stirredresentment under every red shirt in the parade. But Vienna, hereditary foe, seemed to be the one tacitly selected for the bruntof the conflict. 

"Hiram!" pleaded his wife, running to him and patting his convulsedfeatures with trembling fingers. "You said this was all goin' to begenteel. You said you were goin' to show 'em how good manners andpoliteness ought to run a firemen's muster. You said you were!"

By as mighty an effort of self-control as he ever exercised in hislife, Hiram managed to gulp back the sulphurous vilification he hadready at his tongue's end, and paused a moment. 

"That's right! I did say it!" he bellowed, his eyes sweeping the crowdover his wife's shoulder. "And I mean it. It sha'n't be said thatthe Smyrna Ancients were anything but gents. Let them that think abunged eye and a bloody nose is the right kind of badges to wear awayfrom a firemen's muster keep right on in their hellish career. Asfor us"--he tucked his wife's arm under his own--"we remember there'sladies 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 venerablemischief-maker: "I don't know who set you on to thorn this crowd ofmen into a fight, and I don't care. But there ain't goin' to be notrouble here, and, if you keep on tryin' to make it, I'll give youone 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 memberof 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 Trufantturned away, intimidated for the moment. He confessed to himself thathe didn't exactly understand how far a seafaring man could be trifledwith. 

Vienna gazed truculently on Smyrna for a time, but Smyrna, obeyingtheir foreman's adjurations, mellowed into amiable grins and wenton with their lunches. 

"Where's that Spitz poodle with the blue ribbon?" inquired the Cap'nof Hiram, having reference to the brisk little man and his sidewhiskers. "It don't appear to me that you pounded it into his headsolid enough about our not standin' for Gid Ward. "

In the stress of other difficulties Hiram had forgotten the disputethat 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 rightsis good and proper business, but it's a darn slippery place we'retryin' 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 representSmyrna up there at the head of the stream. Keep your eye out for asquare 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 crowdedaround him with appeals. 

"There's only this to know, " urged Hiram. "The judges lay down sheetsof brown paper and measure to the farthest drop. All you've got todo is keep your eye out and see that we get our rights. You'll onlybe actin' as a citizen of our town--and as first selectman you caninsist on our rights. And you can do it in a gentlemanly way, accordin' to the programme we've mapped out. Peace andpoliteness--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 standby and see Gideon Ward do us, and then give you the laugh?"

Therefore the Cap'n buttoned his blue coat tightly and trudged upto where the committee was busy with the sheets of brown paper, weighting them with stones so that the July breeze could not flutterthem away. 

Starks, Carthage, and Salem made but passable showing. They seemedto feel that the crowd took but little interest in them. The listlessapplause that had greeted them in the parade showed that. 

Then, with a howl, half-sullen, half-ferocious, Vienna trundled oldNiagara to the reservoir, stuck her intake pipe deep in the water, and manned her brake-beams. To the surprise of the onlookers herregular foreman took his station with the rest of the crew. UncleBrad Trufant, foreman emeritus, took command. He climbed slowly uponher tank, braced himself against the bell-hanger, and shook his canein the air. 

"Look at me!" he yelled, his voice cracking into a squall. "Look atme and remember them that's dead and gone, your fathers and yourgrands'rs, whose old fists used to grip them bars right where you'vegot 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--methat has seen your grands'rs pump--and have it said that old Niag'rywas licked by a passul of knittin'-work old-maids, led by an elephantand a peep-show man? Be ye goin' to let 'em outsquirt ye? Why, thewimmen-folks of Vienny will put p'isen in your biscuits if you gohome 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-fashionedforeman, who believed that the best results could be obtained by themost scurrilous abuse of his men--and the immediate efforts of Viennaseemed to endorse his opinion. 

With the foreman marking time with "Hoomp!--hoomp!" they began tosurge at the bars, arms interlaced, hands, brown and gristly, covering the leather from end to end. The long, snaking hose filledand plumped out with snappings. 

Uncle Trufant flung his hat afar, doubled forward, and with whitehair bristling on his head began to curse horribly. Occasionally herapped at a laggard with his cane. Then, like an insaneorchestra-leader, he sliced the air about his head and launched freshvolleys of picturesque profanity. 

Old Niagara rocked and danced. The four hosemen staggered as thestream ripped from the nozzle, crackling like pistol discharges. There was no question as to Uncle Trufant's ability to get the mostout 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 yourmotion! Take holt of her! Lift her! Now--now--_now!_ For the lastounce of wickin' that's in ye! Give her--_hell!_"

It was the crucial effort. Men flung themselves at the beams. Legsflapped like garments on a clothes-line in a crazy gale. And whenUncle Trufant clashed the bell they staggered away, one by one, andfell upon the grass of the square. 

"A hundred and seventeen feet, eight inches and one-half!" came theyell down the line, and at the word Vienna rose on her elbows andbawled hoarse cheers. 

The cheer was echoed tumultuously, for every man in the crowd ofspectators knew that this was full twenty feet better than the recordscore of all musters--made by Smyrna two years before, with wind andall 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 streetfrom the direction of the judges. It was Cap'n Aaron Sproul. Peoplegot 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 aboutHecla, their faces downcast at announcement of this astonishingsquirt. 

"A hunderd and seventeen northin'! A hunderd and seventeennorthin'!" Cap'n Sproul gasped over and over. "I knowed he was into do us! I see him do it! It wa'n't no hunderd and seventeen! It'sa fraud!"

"You're a liar!" cried Uncle Trufant, promptly. But the Cap'n refusedto be diverted into argument. 

"I went up there to watch Gid Ward, and I watched him, " he informedthe Ancients. "The rest of 'em was watchin' the squirt, but I waswatchin' that land-pirut. I see him spit on that paper twenty feetfurther'n the furthest drop of water, and then he measured from thatspit. That's the kind of a man that's refereein' this thing. He'shere 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 spouseof the foreman, noting with alarm the rigid lines beginning to creaseher husband's face. 

"There ain't no mistake about his measurin' to that spit?" demandedHiram of the Cap'n, in the level tones of one already convinced butwilling 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'smuster could be made genteel, and would make a pleasant little tripfor the ladies. I was mistaken. " At the look in his eyes his wifebegan eager appeal, but he simply picked her up and placed her inthe 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 ofMis' Sproul. "

Without a word the Cap'n picked up Louada Murilla and placed herbeside the half-fainting Mrs. Look. Hiram closed the doors of thevan. 

"Drive out about two miles, " he ordered the man on the box, "and thenlet the ladies git out and pick bokays and enjoy nature for the restof the afternoon. It's--it's--apt to be kind of stuffy here in thevillage. "

And the van rumbled away down the street toward the vista framed inthe drooping elms. 

"Now, gents, " said Hiram to his men, "if this is aspittin'-at-a-crack contest instead of a tub-squirt, I reckon we'dbetter go to headquarters and find out about it. "

But at Smyrna's announced determination to raid the referee, Viennamassed 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 dayseemed too much like gracious accommodation in the view of ForemanLook. 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 andhoisted him to her neck. Then she started up the street, brandishingthe trunk before her like a policeman's billy and "roomping" inhoarse warning to those who encumbered her path. 

A charge led by an elephant was not in the martial calculations ofthe Viennese. They broke and fled incontinently. 

Perhaps Colonel Gideon Ward would have fled also, but the crowd thathad gathered to watch the results of the hose-play was banked closelyin the street. 

"Make way!" bellowed Foreman Look. "There's only one man I want, andI'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, asthat gentleman, held at bay partly by his pride and partly by thepopulace, came face to face with him, "I've been in the circusbusiness long enough to know a fake when I see one. You've been caughtat 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 tubastraddle that reservoir, " snapped the referee. 

"It occurs to me, " went on Hiram, "that you can spit farther if you'reup 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 evidentthat he had evolved a peculiar method of dealing with the case inhand. 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, almostunder 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 thecrowd back from the tree. The unhappy Colonel was marooned there insolitary state. 

At first the Vienna company showed a hesitating inclination tointerfere with the placing of Hecla, suspecting something untowardin the astonishing elevation of the referee. But even Uncle Trufantwas slow to assume the responsibility of interfering with a company'sright of contest. 

The Ancients located their engine, coupled the hose, and ran it outwith 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'smuster, then here's where we have our part of the lunch. Did youmeasure in twenty extry feet up to your spit mark? Speak up! A quickanswer 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 twitchingas the water pressed at the closed valve. They were grinning, fornow they realized the nature of their foreman's mode of persuasion. 

Vienna realized it, too, for with a howl of protest her men cameswarming 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 onthe 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 hertrucks like a fantastic dancer. To right, to left, in whooshingcircles, or dwelling for an instant on some particularlyobstreperous Vienna man, the great stream played. Some were knockedflat, 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 fullof leather hats, spinning as the water struck them. Every now andthen the hosemen elevated the nozzle and gave Colonel Gideon Wardhis share. A half-dozen times he nearly fell off his perch and flappedout 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. "Ithought it was once, but it ain't. "

"Colonel Gideon Ward, " he shouted to the limp and dripping figurein the tree, "do you own up?"

The Colonel withdrew one arm to shake his fist at the speaker, andnarrowly saved himself by instantly clutching again, for thecrackling 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 whatbelongs to us. "

Like some Hindu magician transplanted to Yankeedom he bestrode theneck of his elephant, and with his hand summoned the waving streamto do his will. Now he directed its spitting force on the infuriatedColonel; now he put to flight some Vienna man who plucked up a littlefleeting 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'nAaron Sproul said you did, " insisted Hiram. "Say that, and say itloud, or we'll give old Hecly the wickin' and blow you out of thattree. "

And after ineffectual oaths the Colonel said it--said it twice, andthe second time much the louder. 

"Then, " bellowed the triumphant Hiram, "the record of old HeclyNumber One still stands, and the championship banner travels backto Smyrna with us to-night, jest as it travelled down this mornin'. "

"Hain't you goin' to squirt?" asked some one posted safely behinda distant tree. 

"If you'd been payin' 'tention as you ought to be you'd have jestseen us squirtin', " replied the foreman of the Ancients with quietsatire. "And when we squirt, we squirt to win. "

Cap'n Aaron Sproul turned away from a rapt and lengthy survey ofColonel 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 justnow"--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, andpee-ruse nature for a little while, and eat up what's left in themlunch-baskets. "

Ten minutes later the Smyrna Ancients and Honorables took theirdeparture down the street bordered by the elms. Hiram Look and Cap'nAaron Sproul swayed comfortably on Imogene's broad back. Thefife-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 awaylong enough to stick a ladder up the elm-tree and let Colonel GideonWard scrape his way despondently down. 

XV

Probably Constable Zeburee Nute could not have picked out a momentmore inauspicious for tackling First Selectman Aaron Sproul onbusiness not immediately connected with the matter then in hand. 

First Selectman Sproul was standing beside a granite post, poundinghis fist on it with little regard to barked knuckles and utteringsome perfectly awful profanity. 

A man stood on the other side of the post, swearing with just as muchgusto; the burden of his remarks being that he wasn't afraid of anyby-joosly old split codfish that ever came ashore--insultingreference to Cap'n Sproul's seafaring life. 

Behind Cap'n Sproul were men with pickaxes, shovels, andhoes--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 Nutehad driven out to interview the first selectman, bringing as apassenger a slim, pale young man, who was smoking cigarettes, oneafter the other. 

They arrived right at the climax of trouble that had been broodingsullenly for a week. In annual town-meeting Smyrna and Vienna hadvoted to change over the inter-urban highway so that it would skirtRattledown Hill instead of climbing straight over it, as the fathershad laid it out in the old days for the sake of directness; forgettingthat a pail bail upright is just as long as a pail bail lyinghorizontal. 

First Selectman Sproul had ordered his men to take a certaindirection with the new road in order to avoid some obstructions thatwould entail extra expense on the town of Smyrna. 

Selectman Trufant, of Vienna, was equally as solicitous about savingexpense on behalf of his own town, and refused to swing his road tomeet Smyrna's highway. Result: the two pieces of highway came to thetown line and there stopped doggedly. There were at least a dozenrods between the two ends. To judge from the language that the twotown officers were now exchanging across the granite post, it seemedlikely that the roads would stay separated. 

"Our s'leckman can outtalk him three to one, " confided one of theSmyrna supporters to Constable Nute. "I never heard deep-watercussin' before, with all the trimmin's. Old Trufant ain't gotnorthin' but side-hill conversation, and I reckon he's about rundown. "

Constable Nute should have awaited more fitting opportunity, butConstable Nute was a rather direct and one-ideaed person. As managerof 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 toPerfessor--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 cigaretteash. 

Cap'n Sproul merely shot one red glance over his shoulder, and thenproceeded with his arraignment of Vienna in general--mentally, morally, socially, politically, and commercially. 

"The perfessor, " bawled Constable Nute, unable to get his team verynear 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 hewants to arrange with the selectmen to borrow the use of the graveyardfor a day or so. "

The constable's vociferousness put the Cap'n out of voice, and hewhirled to find that his auditors had lost all interest in the roaddispute, and naturally, too. 

"To borrow the use of the graveyard, said privilege bein' throwedin, considerin' that he hires the town hall for a week, " repeatedthe constable. 

Cap'n Sproul hated cigarettes; and he hated slim, pale young men whodressed foppishly, classing all such under the general term "dude. "The combination of the two, attending the interruption of hisabsorbing business of the moment, put a wire edge on his temper. 

"Graveyard! Yes!" he roared. "I'll appoint his funeral for twoo'clock this afternoon, and I'll guarantee to have the corpse ready. "

"In transactin' business it ain't no time for jokin', " protested thedirect Mr. Nute. 

"There's no joke to it, " returned the Cap'n, viciously, seizing apickaxe. 

"It ain't much of a way for a first selectman of a town to act inpublic, " persisted Constable Nute, "when town business is put beforehim. "

That remark and a supercilious glance from the professor through hiscigarette smoke brought the Cap'n on the trot to the side of thewagon. 

"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 cheappeep-show critters. Don't want 'em in town. Clear out!"

"I'll make you sorry for insulting a gentleman, " the professorthreatened. 

"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, hebegan 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 runeverything, even if you've started in to do it. "

It was pointed reference to the differences that existed in the boardof selectmen, on account of Cap'n Sproul's determination to command. 

Two very indignant men rode away, leaving a perfectly furious onestanding in the road shaking his fists after them. And he was themore angry because he felt that he had been hastier with the constablethan even his overwrought state of mind warranted. Then, as hereflected on the graveyard matter, his curiosity began to get thebetter of his wrath, and to the surprise of his Vienna antagonisthe abandoned the field without another word and started for Smyrnavillage with his men and dump-carts. 

But dump-carts move slowly, and when the Cap'n arrived at the townhouse Constable Zeburee Nute was nailing up a hand-bill thatannounced that Professor Derolli, the celebrated hypnotist, wouldoccupy the town hall for a week, and that he would perform theremarkable feat of burying a subject in the local graveyard forforty-eight hours, and that he would "raise this subject from thedead, " alive and well. The ink was just dry on a permit to use thegraveyard, signed by Selectmen Batson Reeves and Philias Blodgett. The grim experiment was to wind up the professor's engagement. Inthe mean time he was to give a nightly entertainment at the hall, consisting of hypnotism and psychic readings, the latter by "thatastounding occult seer and prophetess, Madame Dawn. "

Cap'n Sproul went home growling strong language, but confessing tohimself that he was a little ashamed to enter into any further contestwith the cigarette-smoking showman and the two men who were theCap'n's hated associates on the board of selectmen. 

That evening neighbor Hiram Look called with Mrs. Look on their wayto the village to attend the show, but Cap'n Sproul doggedly resistedtheir appeals that he take his wife and go along, too. He opposedno objection, however, when Louada Murilla decided that she wouldaccept 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 hedemanded the reason for her pensiveness, he wished he had made herstay at home. He decided that Zeburee Nute had probably been busywith his tongue as to that boyish display of temper on the RattledownHill road. 

Hiram Look came over early the next morning and found the Cap'nthinning beets in his garden. The expression on the visitor's facedid not harmonize with the brightness of the sunshine. 

"I don't blame you for not goin', " he growled. "But if you had anidea of what they was goin' to do to get even, I should 'a' mostthought you'd 'a' tipped me off. It would have been the part of afriend, 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'vebeen in the show business, and I know. They can do you, and do youplenty, 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 firstselectman. 

"Hain't your wife said northin' about it?"

"She's set and looked at me like I was a cake that she'd forgot inthe oven, " confided the Cap'n, sullenly; "but that's all I know aboutit. "

"Well, that's about what I've had to stand in my fam'ly, too. I tellye, ye hadn't ought to have sassed that mesmerist feller. Oh, I heardall about it, " he cried, flapping hand of protest as the Cap'n triedto speak. "I don't know why you done it. What I say is, you oughtto have consulted me. I know show people better'n you do. Then youain't heard northin' of what she said?"

"If you've got anything to tell me, why in the name of the three-toedCicero don't you tell it?" blurted the Cap'n, indignantly. 

He got up and brushed the dirt off his knees. "If there's anythingthat stirs my temper, it's this mumble-grumble, whiffle-and-hintbusiness. Out and open, that's my style. " He was reflecting testilyon the peculiar reticence of his wife. 

"I agree with you, " replied Hiram, calmly. But his mind was on anotherphase of the question. "If she had been out and open it wouldn't havebeen so bad. It's this hintin' that does the most mischief. Give folksa hint, and a nasty imagination will do the rest. That's the way she'sworkin' it. "

"She? Who?"

"Your mesmerist fellow's runnin' mate--that woman that calls herselfMadame 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 rightabout it. "

"Bein' as how I was in the show business thirty years, you needn'tfeel called on to post me on fakes, " said Hiram, tartly. "But thebigger the fake is the better it catches the crowd. If she'd simplybeen an old scandal-monger at a quiltin'-bee and started a storyabout us, we could run down the story and run old scandal-grabberup a tree. But when a woman goes into a trance and a sperit comesteeterin' out from the dark behind the stage and drops a white robeover her, and she begins to occult, or whatever they call it, andspeaks of them in high places, and them with fat moneybags, and thatain't been long in our midst, and has come from no one jest knowswhere, and that she sees black shadders followin' 'em, along withwimmen weepin' and wringin' of their hands--well, when a woman setson 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 wifeand 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 youought 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'sthe difference between scandal and occultin'. We can't get no bindon her for what she said. Now here are you and me, back here to settledown after roamin' the wide world over; jest got our feet placed, as you might say, and new married to good wimmen--and because we'rea little forehanded and independent, and seem to be enjoyin' life, every one is all ready to believe the worst about us on generalprinciples. Mossbacks are always ready to believe that a man that'stravelled 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 thenhint 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'vegot seven wives strewed around the country somewhere, either aliveor 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 froma Hindu to a Hottentot, and would look like a congress of nations. In about two days more--imagination still workin', and a few old shedevils in this place startin' stories to help it along--our wiveswill be hoppin' up every ten minutes to look down the road and seeif 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 LouadaMurilla will let herself get fooled and stirred up in that kind ofa way by a fly-by-night critter, there ain't much hope of the restof 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 theair. Now I didn't sass that mesmerist. But I got it about as toughas 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 stubbyfingers. "Here's your mesmerist rushin' hot to Reeves complainin'about you and gettin' a permit from Reeves, along with a few pointersabout you for occult use. Reeves hates you bad enough, but he hatesme 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 seewhat 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'--andI'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 eitherhave to do that or go up in a balloon and stay there. There's toomany tricks for me on land. They ring in all they can think ofthemselves, and then they go to work and get a ghost to help. I can'twhale the daylights out of the ghost, and I don't suppose it wouldbe proper for a first selectman to cuff the ears of the woman thatsaid females was followin' me, wailin' and gnashin' their teeth, butI can lick that yaller-fingered, cigarette-suckin' dude, and pay thefine for so doin'--and reckon I've got my money's worth. "

"You need a guardeen, " snorted Hiram. "She will put on her robe andaccuse 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 inall guilelessness, and the memory of a certain Portuguese sailor, slipped overboard after a brief but busy mutiny, went shudderingthrough his thoughts. 

"Ain't got anything like that on your conscience, have you?" demandedthe old showman, bluntly. 

"She didn't say anything only about women, did she?" evaded theCap'n. 

"Didn't notice anything last night. She may be savin' something elsefor this evenin', " was Hiram's consoling answer. His air and thebaleful glance he bent on his neighbor indicated that he still heldthat irascible gentleman responsible for their joint misfortune. And, to show further displeasure, he whirled and stumped away across thefields 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 toaccompany him. He hadn't intended to go. But he was drawn by a certainfatal fascination. He had a sailor's superstitious half-belief inthe supernatural. He had caught word during the day of someastonishing revelations made by the seeress as to other persons intown, either by lucky guess or through secret pre-information, ashis common sense told him. And yet his sneaking superstitionwhispered that there was "something in it, after all. " If thatmesmerist's spirit of retaliation should carry him to the extent ofhinting about that Portuguese sailor, Cap'n Sproul resolved to bein that hall, ready to stand up and beard his defamers. 

Evidently Professor Derolli spotted his enemy; for Madame Dawn, inorder that vengeance should be certain of its mark, repeated thevague yet perfectly obvious hints of the preceding evening; and Cap'nSproul was thankful for the mystic gloom of the hall that hid hisfury and his shame. He stole out of the place while the lights werestill low. He feared for his self-restraint if he were to remain, and he realized what a poor figure he would make standing up thereand replying to the malicious farrago of the woman under the veil. 

XVI

For the rest of the professor's engagement Cap'n Aaron Sproul andHiram Look kept sullenly to their castles, nursing indignant senseof their wrongs. They got an occasional whiff of the scandal thatwas pursuing their names. Though their respective wives strove withpathetic loyalty to disbelieve all that the seeress had hinted at, and moved in sad silence about their duties, it was plain that theseed of evil had been planted deep in their imaginations. Poor humannature is only what it is, after all!

"Two better women never lived than them of ourn, and two that wouldbe harder to turn, " said Hiram to the Cap'n, "but it wouldn't be humannature if they didn't wonder sometimes what we'd been up to all themyears before we showed up here, and what that cussed occulter saidhas torched 'em on to thinkin' mighty hard. The only thing to do isto keep a stiff upper lip and wait till the clouds roll by. They'llcome to their senses and be ashamed of themselves, give 'em time andrope enough. "

Second Selectman Batson Reeves busied himself as a sort of masterof ceremonies for Professor Derolli, acted as committee ofinvestigation when the professor's "stock subject" remained for aday and night in a shallow trench in the village cemetery, and evengave them the best that his widower's house could afford at a Sundaydinner. 

In the early flush of an August morning about a week after thedeparture of the hypnotic marvel and his companions, a mutual impulseseemed to actuate Selectman Sproul and Hiram Look at a momentsurprisingly simultaneous. They started out their back doors, tookthe path leading over the hill between their farms, and met underthe poplars at a point almost exactly half-way. It would be difficultto state which face expressed the most of embarrassed concern as theystood 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 intobreast-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' overto mine, then you've somethin' that I don't begrudge you none, " addedthe 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 piazzaand run. Reckon she waited her chance so't my wife would get holtof it. She did. She read it. And it's hell 'n' repeat on the Lookpremises. "

"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'swimmen'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 overhis head. "'Darlin' Hiram, how could you leave me, but if you willcome away with me now all will be forgiven and forgotten, from onewho loves you truly and well, and has followed you to remind you ofyour promise. ' My Gawd, Cap'n, ain't that something to raise ablister 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 suchwoman, " Hiram went on in fervid protest. "There ain't nobody witha 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 theireyes 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 suchas ladies expect from gents, and sometimes rash promises is made. Now, perhaps--you understand I'm only supposin'--perhaps you've gotsome one in mind that might have misjudged what you said to her--someone that's got a little touched in her head, perhaps, and she's comehere. In that case it might give us a clue if you're a mind to ownup. "

The Cap'n flushed at this clumsy attempt of Hiram to secure aconfidence. 

"Seein' that you've thought how it might be done all so quick andhandy, showin' what's on your mind, I reckon you'd better lay downcards 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 younever can tell what's what in this world, and so long as we're lookingfor clues we might as well have an understandin', so's to see ifthere'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'tstrong-headed, you know. " He hesitated for a time, fiddling hisforefinger under his nose. "There was just one woman I made talk toin 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 thatbein' sick, like I was, and not used to wimmen, and bein' so gratefulfor all her care and attention and kindness and head-rubbin', I wassort of took unawares, as you might say. A stronger-headed womanwould 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 seethat she was sappy, and prob'ly wanted to get out of nussin' and getmarried, and so she had it all written down on her nuss-diary whatI said, mixed in with temperature, pulse, and things. I--"

Cap'n Sproul's eyes had been widening, and his tongue was nervouslylicking 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 whatdrove me off'm deep water. She was fat, wasn't she, and had lighthair and freckles across the bridge of her nose, and used to set sideof the bed and hum: 'I'm a pilgrim, faint and weary'?"

"Damme if you didn't ring the bell with that shot!" cried the oldshowman in astonishment. 

"Well, it's just ditto and the same with me, " said the Cap'n, rappinghis knuckles on his breast. "Same horsepittle, same nuss, same thinggenerally--only when I was sickest I told her I had property wuthabout thutty thousand dollars. "

"So did I, " announced Hiram. "It's funny that when a man's drunk orsick 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 andgettin' mixed up with the same woman!"

"This world ain't got no special bigness, " said the Cap'n. "I'vesailed round it a dozen times, and I know. "

The showman grasped the selectman by the coat-lapel and demandedearnestly: "Didn't you figger it as I did, when you got so you couldset 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--anddon't care which one she gets!"

"Or else got sensibler and remembered our property and come aroundto let blood. "

"Bound to make trouble, anyway. "

"She's made it!" The Cap'n turned doleful gaze over his shoulder atthe chimney of his house. 

"Bein' crazy she can make a lot more of it. I tell you, Cap'n, there'sonly this to do, and it ought to work with wimmen-folks as sensibleas our'n are. We'll swap letters, and go back home and tell the wholestory and set ourselves straight. They're bound to see the right sideof it. "

"There ain't any reckonin' on what a woman will do, " observed theCap'n, gloomily. "The theory of tellin' the truth sounds all right, and _is_ all right, of course. But I read somewhere, once, that awoman thrives best on truth diluted with a little careful andjudicious 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 stillhere he prob'ly can locate her. And if he can scare her off, so muchthe better. "

Constable Denslow, intrusted with only scant and vague information, began his search for a supposed escaped lunatic that day. Beforenightfall he reported to the Cap'n that there were no strangers intown. However, right on the heels of that consoling information cameagain that terror who travelled by night! In the dusk of early eveninganother letter was left for Aaron Sproul, nor was the domicile ofHiram Look slighted by the mysterious correspondent. 

Moved by common impulse the victims met in the path across the fieldsnext morning. 

"Another one of them bumbs dropped at my house last night!" statedHiram, though the expression on his countenance had rendered thatinformation 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 ofdivorce, " said Hiram. 

"Ditto with me, " affirmed Cap'n Sproul. "Tellin' mine the truth waswhat really started her mad up. It was just plain mystery up to thattime, and she only felt sorry. When I told her the truth she saidif it was that bad it would prob'ly turn out to be worse, and so long'sI'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 tolie to 'em. You can make a lie smooth and convincin'. The truth ofthis thing sounds fishy. It would sound fishy to me if I didn't knowit was so. "

"Since I got out of the circus business I've been tryin' to dobusiness 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 truthand had been as square as you could, what did you say to her whenshe flared up?"

"Northin', " answered the Cap'n. "Didn't seem to be northin' to sayto 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 twitteredit overhead at a Sunday-school picnic. "

That day Jackson Denslow, pricked by a fee of ten dollars, made moresearching investigation. It was almost a census. Absolutely no traceof such a stranger! Denslow sullenly said that such a domiciliaryvisit 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 camefrom, and what was wanted of her, nor hint as to who his employerswere, it was currently stated that he had gone daffy over thedetective business. His tone of voice indicated that he thoughtothers were similarly afflicted. He allowed that no detective coulddetect 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 ofwhose tempers had been cocked by such events as had beset Hiram Lookand Aaron Sproul. Taking it that the constable was trying to pry intotheir 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 hefled through the door of the office. 

That night each was met at the front door by hysterics, and a thirdletter. The mystery was becoming eerie. 

"Dang rabbit her miserable pelt!" growled Hiram at the despairingmorning conference under the poplars. "She must be livin' in a holeround here, or else come in a balloon. I tell you, Cap'n Sproul, it'sgot to be stopped some way or the two families will be in the lunaticasylum inside of a week. "

"Or more prob'ly in the divorce court. Louada Murilla vows anddeclares she'll get a bill if I don't tell her the truth, and whenyou've told the truth once and sworn to it, and it don't stick, whatkind of a show is a lie goin' to stand, when a man ain't much of aliar?"

"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 thehouse so as to grab in and toss one of them letters. Looks to me it'sjust revenge, and to make trouble. The darned fool can't marry bothof 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 therailroad-station in the face and eyes of everybody so that it willget spread round that we've gone. And we'll come back by team fromsome place down the line, and lay low either round your premises ormine and ketch that infernal, frowzle-headed sister of Jim the Penmanby 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 anyharder thinkin' than I've been thinkin', and they can't get a divorcein one night. When we ketch that woman we can preach a sermon to 'emwith 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 frontyard, " 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 ona back road in Smyrna, paid the driver and dismissed the team, andstarted briskly through the pastures across lots toward Hiram Look'sfarm. 

An hour later, moving with the stealth of red Indians, they postedthemselves behind the stone wall opposite the lane leading into theLook dooryard. They squatted there breathing stertorously, theireyes goggling into the night. 

The Cap'n, with vision trained by vigils at sea, was the first tosee the dim shape approaching. When she had come nearer they saw atall feather nodding against the dim sky. 

"Let's get her before she throws the letter--get her with the goodson her!" breathed Hiram, huskily. And when she was opposite theyleaped the stone wall. 

She had seasonable alarm, for several big stones rolled off thewall's top. And she turned and ran down the road with the two menpounding along fiercely in pursuit. 

"My Gawd!" gasped Aaron, after a dozen rods; "talkabout--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 thefugitive foot by foot. And at sound of his footsteps behind her, andhis hoarse grunt, "I've got ye!" she whirled and, before the amazedshowman could protect himself, she struck out and knocked him flaton 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 theCap'n tripped over Hiram, tumbled heavily, rolled over twice, andbrought up against the prostrate fugitive, whom he clutched in agrasp there was no breaking. 

"Don't let her hit ye, " howled Hiram, struggling up. "She's got anarm like a mule's hind leg. "

"And whiskers like a goat!" bawled the Cap'n, choking in utterastonishment. "Strike a match and let's see what kind of ablamenation 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, theconvulsed features of Batson Reeves, second selectman of the townof Smyrna. 

"Well, marm, " remarked Hiram, after a full thirty seconds of amazedsurvey, "you've sartinly picked out a starry night for a ramble. "

Mr. Reeves seemed to have no language for reply except some shockingoaths. 

"That ain't very lady-like talk, " protested Look, lighting anothermatch that he might gloat still further. "You ought to remember thatyou're in the presence of your two 'darlin's. ' We can't love any onethat cusses. You'll be smokin' a pipe or chawin' tobacker next. " Hechuckled, and then his voice grew hard. "Stop your wigglin', youblasted, livin' scarecrow, or I'll split your head with a rock, andthis 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 theground. Hiram seized it and bound the captive's arms behind his back. "Now let him up, Cap, " he commanded, and the two men helped theunhappy selectman to his feet. 

"So it's you, hey?" growled Hiram, facing him. "Because I've comehere to this town and found a good woman and married her, and savedher from bein' fooled into marryin' a skunk like you, you've put upthis job, hey? Because Cap'n Sproul has put you where you belong intown business, you're tryin' to do him, too, hey? What do you reckonwe're goin' to do with you?"

It was evident that Mr. Reeves was not prepared to state. Hemaintained a stubborn silence. 

Cap'n Sproul had picked up the hat with the tall feather and wasgingerly revolving it in his hands. 

"You're a nice widderer, you are!" snorted Hiram. "A man that willwear a deceased's clothes in order to help him break up families andspread sorrow and misery round a neighborhood, would be a secondhusband to make a woman both proud and pleased. Cap'n, put that hatand veil back onto him. I'll hold him. "

Mr. Reeves consented to stand still only after he had received ahalf-dozen open-handed buffets that made his head ring. 

"There!" ejaculated Hiram, after the Cap'n's unaccustomed fingershad 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, guessingtheir purpose. But he was helpless in their united clutch. Theyrushed him up the lane, tramped along the piazza noisily, jostledthrough the front door, and presented him before Hiram's astoundedwife. 

"Mis' Look, " said her husband, "here's the lady that's in love withme, and that has been leavin' me letters. It bein' the same lady thatwas once in love with you, I reckon you'll appreciate my feelin'sin the matter. There's just one more clue that we need to clinch thisthing--and that's another one of those letters. The Cap'n and I don'tknow 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 indignantenlightenment. 

"The miserable scalawag!" she cried. The next instant, with onethrust of her hand, she had the damning evidence. There were twoletters. 

"She ain't delivered the one to darlin' Cap'n Sproul this evenin', "Hiram remarked, persisting still in his satiric use of the femininepronoun. "If you'll put on your bonnet, Mis' Look, we'll all sa'nteracrost to the Cap'n's and see that Louada Murilla gets hers. Near'sI can find out, the rules of this special post-office is that alllove-letters to us pass through our wives' hands. "

In the presence of Mrs. Sproul, after the excitement of the dramaticentrance had subsided, the unhappy captive attempted excuses, cringing pitifully. 

"I didn't think of it all by myself, " he bleated. "It was what theDawn woman said, and then when I mentioned that I had some grudgesagin' the same parties she wrote the notes, and the perfessor plannedthe rest, so't we could both get even. But it wasn't my notion. Ireckon he mesmerized me into it. I ain't to blame. Them mesmeristshas awful powers. "

"Ya-a-a-as, that's probably just the way of it!" sneered Hiram, withblistering sarcasm. "But you'll be unmesmerized before we get donewith 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'slasted 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 Ancientand Honer'ble Firemen's Association, I'll ring the bell and call outthe department, stand you up in front of them all in your flouncesfine, and tell 'em what you've been doin' to their chief. I guessall the heavy work of gettin' even with you will be taken off'm myhands 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 rideyou into Vienny on a rail. "

"With my fife and drum corps ahead, " shouted Hiram, warming to thepossibilities. 

"I'll die here in my tracks first!" roared the captive. 

"It's kind of apparent that Madame Dawn didn't give you lessons inprophesyin', along with the rest of her instruction, " remarked Hiram. "That makes twice this evenin' that you've said you were goin' todie, and you're still lookin' healthy. Come along! Look happy, foryou'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. LouadaMurilla and I know now what a scalawag he is, and we know how we'vemisjudged both you and Cap'n Sproul, and we'll spend the rest of ourlives showin' you that we're sorry. But let him go! If you make anysuch uproar as you're talkin' of it will all come out that he madeyour 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 fervorof her feelings. "It will punish him worst if you drop him here andnow, 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'ntrudged to his front door, opened it, and held it open. Hiram cutthe strip that bound their captive's wrists. 

The second selectman had not the courage to raise his eyes to meetthe stares directed on him. With head bowed and the tall feathernodding over his face he slunk out into the night. And Hiram and theCap'n called after him in jovial chorus:

"Good-night, marm!"

"This settling down in life seems to be more or less of a complicatedperformance, " observed Cap'n Sproul when the four of them were alone, "but just at this minute I feel pretty well settled. I reckon I'veimpressed it on a few disturbers in this town that I'm the sort ofa man that's better left alone. It looks to me like a long, calm spellof weather ahead. "

XVII

Mr. Gammon's entrance into the office of the first selectman ofSmyrna was unobtrusive. In fact, to employ a paradox, it was sounobtrusive as to be almost spectacular. 

The door opened just about wide enough to admit a cat, were that catsufficiently slab-sided, and Mr. Gammon slid his lath-like form inedgewise. He stood beside the door after he had shut it softly behindhim. 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 downinto his palm to add emphasis to some particularly violentobservation he was just then making to Mr. Tate, highway "surveyor"in Tumble-dick District. Cap'n Sproul jerked his chin around overhis shoulder so as to stare at Mr. Gammon, and held his fist poisedin 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 neighborsin that remote section of Smyrna known as "Purgatory, " having thesaving grace of humor, called him "Cheerful Charles. "

The glare in the Cap'n's eyes failed to dislodge him, and the Cap'n'smind was just then too intent on a certain topic to admit even thedigression of ordering Mr. Gammon out. 

"What in the name of Josephus Priest do I care what the publicdemands?" he continued, shoving his face toward the loweringcountenance of Mr. Tate. "I've built our end of the road to thetown-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 strikethe end of our'n, then let the both of 'em yaw apart and end in thesheep-pastur'. The public ain't runnin' this. It's _me_--the firstselectman. You are takin' orders from _me_--and you want tounderstand it. Don't you nor any one else move a shovelful of dirttill I tell you to. "

Hiram Look, retired showman and steady loafer in the selectman'soffice, rolled his long cigar across his lips and gruntedindorsement. 

"_Squawnk!_" The appeal outside was a bit more insistent. 

Mr. Gammon sighed. Hiram glanced his way and noted that he had a nooseof clothes-line tied so tightly about his neck that his flabby dewlapwas 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 intoVienny says that you wa'n't elected to be no crowned head nor noSeizer of Rooshy!" Mr. Tate, stung by memories of the taunts flungat him as surveyor, grew angry in his turn. "I live out there, andI have to take the brunt of it. They think you and that old fool ofa Vienny selectman that's lettin' a personal row ball up the bus'nessof 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. Gammonopened the door. In waddled the one who had been demandingadmittance. 

"It's my tame garnder, " said Mr. Gammon, apologetically. "He waslonesome to be left outside. "

A fuzzy little cur that had been sitting between Mr. Tate'searth-stained boots ran at the gander and yapped shrilly. The bigbird 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' himround everywhere he goes ought to have a guardeen appointed, "suggested Mr. Tate, acidulously, after he had recovered his dog andhad cuffed his ears. 

"My garnder is a gent side of any low-lived dog that ever gnawedcarrion, " retorted Mr. Gammon, his funereal gloom lifting to showone flash of resentment. 

"Look here!" sputtered the Cap'n, "this ain't any Nat'ral HistoryConvention. Shut up, I tell ye, the two of you! Now, Tate, you canup killick and set sail for home. I've given you your course, anddon'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 overhis shoulder another muttered taunt about "bedevilment, " anddisappeared. 

"Now, old button on a graveyard gate, what do you want?" demandedCap'n Sproul, running eye of great disfavor over Mr. Gammon and hisfaithful attendant. He had heard various reports concerning thiswidower 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 headcomfortably 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 ashinin' mark, it will be worse for you. "

"Look here, " said the first selectman, squaring his elbows on thetable and scowling on "Cheerful Charles, " "if you've come to me toget papers to commit you to the insane horsepittle, you've provedyour 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 oldweb-foot--_there!_"

Mr. Gammon concealed any emotion that the slur provoked. He camealong 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 meto hand it to you. He said it would show you your duty. "

The selectman stared up at Mr. Gammon when he uttered the hatefulname of Reeves. Mr. Gammon twisted the noose on his neck so that theknot would come under his ear, and endured the stare with equanimity. 

With spectacles settled on a nose that wrinkled irefully, the Cap'nperused the paper, his eyes growing bigger. Then he looked at theblank back of the sheet, stared wildly at Mr. Gammon, and whirledto face his friend Look. 

"Hiram, " he blurted, "you listen to this: 'Pers'nally appearedbefore me this fifteenth day of September Charles Gammon, of Smyrna, and deposes and declares that by divers arts, charms, spells, andmagic, incantations, and evil hocus-pocus, one--one--'"

"Arizima, " prompted Mr. Gammon, mournfully. The Cap'n gazed on himbalefully, and resumed:

"'One Arizima Orff has bewitched and bedeviled him, his cattle, hischattels, his belongings, including one calf, one churn, and variousox-chains. It is therefore the opinion of the court that the firstselectman of Smyrna, as chief municipal officer, should investigatethis 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. Gammonthat he may summon the proper authority, same being first selectmanaforesaid. '"

"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 withouta minute's delay. I wish you'd get your hat and start for my placenow and forthwith. "

Cap'n Sproul paid no attention to the request. He was searching theface 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 tocome along and see me do it. " He crumpled the paper into a ball, threwit into a corner, and stumped to the window. 

"It's just as I reckoned, " he raged. "He was lookin' out to see howthe joke worked. I see him dodge back. He's behind the curtain inhis office. " Again he whirled on Hiram. "After what the Reeves familyhas tried to do to us, " he declared, with a flourish of his armdesigned to call up in Mr. Look's soul all the sour memories of thingspast, "he's takin' his life in his hands when he starts in to makefun of me with a lunatic and a witch-story. "

Mr. Gammon had recovered the dishonored document, and was smoothingit on the table. 

"That's twice you've called me a lunatic, " he remonstrated. "You callme that again, and you'll settle for slander! Now, I've come herewith an order from the court, and your duty is laid before you. Whena town officer has sworn to do his duty and don't do it, a citizencan make it hot for him. " Mr. Gammon, his bony hands caressing hislegal document, was no longer apologetic. "Be you goin' to do yourduty--yes or no?"

"If--if--you ain't a--say, what have you got that rope around yourneck for?" demanded the first selectman. 

"To show to the people that if I ain't protected from persecutionand 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 whereit ought to be placed, " declared Mr. Gammon, shaking a gaunt fingerat 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 andtook second thought. 

And as he pondered, Hiram Look broke in with a word. 

"I know it looks suspicious, comin' from a Reeves, " said he, "butI 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 takea census of the hossflies between here and the Vienny town-line, "sputtered the first selectman; "or catch the moskeeters in Snell'sbog 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, thatthat old gob of cat-meat over there that calls himself a lawyer saidI'd taken this job of selectman as a license to stick my nose intoeverybody's business in town. Now, here he is, rigging me out witha balloon-jib and stays'ls"--he pointed a quivering finger at thepaper that Mr. Gammon was nursing--"and sendin' me off on a tack thatwill pile me up on Fool Rocks. Everybody can say it of me, then--thatI'm stickin' my nose in. Because there ain't any witches, and neverwas 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 stilluntil I come back. Don't say a word to each other. It will only bewasting breath. "

He went out, and they heard him clumping up the stairs into the upperpart of the town house. 

He came back with several books in the hook of his arm and found thetwo mute and not amiable. He surveyed them patronizingly, after hehad placed the books on the table. 

"Gents, once when I was considerably younger and consequentlyreckoned that I knew about all there was to know, not only all themain points, but all the foot-notes, I didn't allow anybody else toknow anything. And I used to lose more or less money betting thatthis and that wasn't so. Then up would come the fellow with thecyclopedy and his facts and his figgers. At last I was so sure ofone thing that I bet a thousand on it, and a fellow hit me over thehead with every cyclopedy printed since the time Noah waited for themud to dry. I got my lesson! After that I took my tip from the menthat 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'tknow 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 didto tamin' toads and playin' circus I wouldn't have bet. "

He opened one of the books that he had secured in his trip to thetown library. 

"Now, you say offhand, Cap, that there never was such a thing as awitch. Well, right here are the figgers to show that between 1482and 1784 more than three hundred thousand wimmen were put to deathin Europe for bein' witches. There's the facts under 'Witches' inyour own town cyclopedy. "

Cap'n Sproul did not appear to be convinced. 

"There it is, down in black and white, " persisted Hiram. "Now, howabout there never bein' any witches?" He tapped his finger on theopen page. 

"If the book says that, witches must be extinker than dodos. Yourcyclopedy 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, openinganother book. "Caught 'em by the dozen in Salem! Cotton Mather madea 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 hewrote. A man that's as pious as Cotton Mather ain't makin' up liesand writin' 'em down, and puttin' himself on record. "

"There's just as many witches to-day as there ever was, " cried thecorroborative Mr. Gammon. "The trouble is they ain't hunted out andbrought to book for their infernal actions. There's hundreds andhundreds of folks goin' through this life pestered all the time withtrouble that's made for 'em by a witch, and they don't know what'sthe matter with 'em. But they can't fool me. I know witches when Isee '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' awayin my barn chamber, and there she was, turned into a cat most as bigas a ca'f, and I throwed an iron kittle at her and she come rightthrough the bottom of it like it was a paper hoop. There, now! Whathave you got to say to that?"

"That you are about as handy a liar as I ever had stand up in frontof me, " returned the Cap'n, with animation. He whirled on Hiram andgesticulated at the books. "Do you mean to tell me that you'restandin' in with him on any such jing-bedoozled, blame' foolishnessas this? I took you to be man-grown. "

"It's always easy enough to r'ar up in this world and blart thatthings ain't so, " snapped Hiram, with some heat. "Fools do that thingright along. I don't want you to be that kind. Live and learn. "

"Witches or no witches, cyclopedy or no cyclopedy, what I want toknow is, do you want to have it passed round this community that thetwo of us set here--men that have been round this world as much aswe have--and heard a man tell a cat-and-kittle story like that, andlapped it down? They'll be here sellin' us counterfeit money and goldbricks next. "

Hiram blinked a little doubtfully at Mr. Gammon, and his rope andgander, and probably, under ordinary circumstances, would haveflouted that gentleman. But the authority of the encyclopedia gavehis naturally disputatious nature a stimulus not to be resisted. Beating the page with the back of his hand, he assembled his proofthat there had been witches, that there are witches, and that therewill be more witches in the future. And he wound up by declaring thatMr. Gammon probably knew what he was talking about--a statement thatMr. Gammon indorsed with a spirited tale of how his ox-chains hadbeen turned into mighty serpents in his dooryard, and had thrashedaround there all night to his unutterable distress and alarm. Againhe demanded investigation of his case, and protection by theauthorities. 

In this appeal he was backed by Hiram, who volunteered his assistancein making the investigation. And in the end, Cap'n Sproul, as firstselectman of Smyrna, consented to visit the scene of allegedenchantment in "Purgatory, " though as private citizen he criticisedprofanely 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 onhis cheek. It seemed to him that he was allowing himself to be cajoledinto a mild spree of lunacy. 

"And there bein' no time like the present, and my horse bein' hitchedout there in the shed, " advised Hiram, briskly, "why not go now? Didyou ride out from your place or walk?" he inquired of "CheerfulCharles. "

"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 offMr. Gammon's neck. That much concession to the convenances hedemanded with a vigor that his doleful constituent did not gainsay. 

When they drove away the baleful eye of the first selectman spiedSquire Alcander Reeves furtively regarding them through the dingyglass of his office window. 

"Me off witch-chasin' and him standin' there grinnin' at it like ajezeboo!" 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 neckand 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 anold Leghorn hen that a mink killed just after the hen had broughtout a brood of chickens. And what do you s'pose she done? Why, shewent right to work and put a cluck onto the cat, and the cat hasbrooded '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 pretendto tell me for one minute, Hiram Look, that you take any kind of stockin this sort of thing? Now, just forget that cyclopedy business andyour ancient history for a few minutes and be honest. Own up thatyou were arguin' to hear yourself talk, and that you're dragging meout here to pass away the time. "

Hiram scratched his nose and admitted that now the Cap'n had askedfor 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 outold coffin-mug and his gander and turn round and go back about ourbusiness. "

But Hiram promptly whipped along. 

"Oh, thunder!" he ejaculated. "While we're about it, we might as wellsee 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 tobein' such a pickid-nosed old maid as that, not for a thousanddollars!"

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 wentofficial, 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 thiscase under the aegis of law and authority. It was exactly this viewof the matter that most disturbed Cap'n Aaron Sproul, for thathateful Pharisee, Squire Reeves, had supplied the law to compel hisown authority as selectman. 

He sat with elbows on his knees, gloomily surveying a dim reflectionof himself in the dasher of Hiram's wagon. In pondering on thetrammels of responsibility the sour thought occurred to him, as ithad many times in the past year, that commanding a town was adifferent 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 unkemptfarm-house from which the weather had scrubbed the paint. Thefront yard was bare of every vestige of grass and contained a clutterthat 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 expectwill bid in a second-hand gravestone?"

"It ain't second-hand, " replied the owner, reprovingly, as he easedhimself out of the wagon. "Mis' Gammon, my first wife, is buried there. 'Twas by her request. She made her own layin'-out clothes, pickedher bearers and music, and selected the casket. She was a capablewoman. "

"It's most a wonder to me that he ever took the crape off'm thedoor-knob, " remarked Hiram, in a husky aside to the Cap'n, notintending to be overheard and somewhat crestfallen to find that hehad been. 

"I didn't for some time, till it got faded, " explained Mr. Gammon, without display of resentment. "I had the casket-plate mounted onblack velvet and framed. It's in the settin'-room. I'll show it toyou before you leave. "

Hiram pulled his mouth to one side and hissed under shelter of hisbig 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 stillwith him. "What do you and I know about witches, anyway, even if thereare such things? We've done our duty! We've been here. If he getsus to investigatin' it will be just like him to want us to dig thatwoman up. "

His appeal was suddenly interrupted. Mr. Gammon, peering about hispremises for fresh evidences of witchcraft accomplished during hisabsence, bellowed frantic request to "Come, see!" He was behind thebarn, and they hastened thither. 

"My Gawd, gents, they've witched the ca'f!" Their eyes followed thedirection 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 toreach. Whatever agency had boosted him there had left him wedged intothe crotch of the limbs so that he could not move, though he appearedto be comfortable. 

"It jest takes all the buckram out of me--them sights do, " wailedMr. Gammon. "I can't climb up there and do it. One of you will haveto. " 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 fromunder the charm. "

But Hiram, squinting up to assure himself that the calf wascomfortable, pushed Mr. Gammon back and made him sit down on a pileof bean-poles. 

"Better put your hat between your knees, " he suggested, noting theway Mr. Gammon's thin knees were jigging. "You might knock a sliveroff 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 onit, "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 ofresentful malice; "you're the witch expert. I ain't. "

"Well, " retorted Hiram, with an alacrity that showed considerablezest for the business in hand, "I never shirked duty. First, what'sher name again--the woman that's doin' it all?"

"I want you to come and see--" began Mr. Gammon, apparently havinghis own ideas as to a witch-hunt, but Hiram shook the big cigar athim 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 withher?"

"She's Arizima Orff, and that's her house over the rise of that landwhere you can see the chimblys. " Mr. Gammon was perfunctory in thatreply, but immediately his little blue eyes began to sparkle and helaunched out into his troubles. "There's them that don't believe inwitches. 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 allhet up where she had hitched me after she'd rid' me to one of thewitch 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 principaltrouble in gettin' at facts, " he explained, whirling on the Cap'n. "Investigators don't get down to cases. Talk with a stutterer, andif you don't look sharp you'll get to stutterin' yourself. Now, ifwe don't look out, Gammon here will have us believin' in witchesbefore we've investigated. "

"You been sayin' right along that you did believe in 'em, " gruntedthe first selectman. 

"Northin' of the sort!" declared Hiram. "I was only showin' you thatwhen you rose up and hollered that there never was any witches youdidn't know what you were talkin' about. "

While Cap'n Sproul was still blinking at him, trying to comprehendthe exact status of Hiram's belief, that forceful inquisitor, whohad been holding his victim in check with upraised and admonitorydigit, resumed:

"Old maid or widder?"

"Widder. "

"Did deceased leave her that farm, title clear, and well-fixedfinancially?"

"Yes, " acknowledged Mr. Gammon. 

"Now, " Hiram leaned forward and wagged that authoritative fingerdirectly under the other's case-knife nose, "what was it she doneto you to make you get up this witch-story business about her? Here!Hold on!" he shouted, detecting further inclination on the part ofMr. Gammon to rail about his bedevilment. "You talk good Yankeecommon 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 everyfake from a Patagonian cockatoo up to and including the ghost of BillBeeswax. She done something to you. Now, what was it?"

Mr. Gammon was cowed. He fingered his dewlap and closed and unclosedhis lips. 

"Out with it!" insisted Hiram. "If you don't, me and the selectmanwill have you sued for slander. "

"Up to a week ago, " confessed Mr. Gammon, gazing away from the blazingeyes of Hiram into the placid orbs of the calf in the tree, "we wasgoin' 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' overit. We was goin' to jine farms and I was goin' to live over to herplace, because it wouldn't be so pleasant here with Mis' Gammon--"

He hesitated, and ducked despondent head in the direction of thefront yard. 

"Well, seconds don't usually want to set in the front parlor windowand read firsts' epitaphs for amusement, " remarked Hiram, grimly. "What then?"

"Well, then all at once she wouldn't let me into the house, and sheshooed me off'm her front steps like she would a yaller cat, and whenI tried to find out about it that young Haskell feller that she'shired 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 puta 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, andthe Haskell boy told me that she was braggin' how she had mebewitched. "

"And you believed that kind of infernal tomrot?" inquired the showman, wrathfully. Somewhat to the Cap'n's astonishment, Hiram seemed tobe taking only a sane and normal view of the thing. 

"I did, after I went over and taxed her with it, and she stood offand 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 acaterpillar and kill me with a fly-spanker. There! When a woman saysthat 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 andstared at the Cap'n as though hoping for some suggestion. But theselectman merely shook his head with a pregnant expression of "I toldyou so!"

Hiram got up and stamped around the tree to cover what was evidentlymomentary embarrassment. All at once he kicked at something in thegrass, bent over and peered at it, looked up at the calf, then pickedup the object on the ground and stuffed it deep into his trouserspocket. 

"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, withsuch utter conviction that Hiram forebore to question further. Hewhirled on his heel and started away toward the chimney that pokedabove the rise of land. 

"Come along!" he called, gruffly, over his shoulder, and the twofollowed. 

It was a trim little place that was revealed to them. A woman in asunbonnet 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 curiosityas they came up to him, Hiram well ahead, looming with all his sixfeet two, his plug-hat flashing in the sun. Hiram did not pause topalter with the youth. He grabbed him by the back of the neck withone huge hand, and with the other tapped against the Haskell boy'snose 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'tdrop 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 liarsall my life? Not your knife, when your name is scratched on thehandle? And don't you know that two officers stood right over behindthe stone wall and saw you do it? Because you wasn't caught in yourcat-yowlin' round and your ox-chain foolishness and your otherdidoes, do you think you can fool a detective like me? You come alongto State Prison! I _was_ intendin' to let you off if you owned upand told all you know--but now that you've lied to me, come alongto State Prison!"

There was such vengefulness and authority in the big man's visagethat the Haskell boy wilted in unconditional surrender. 

"He got me into the scrape. I'll tell on him. I don't want to go toState Prison, " he wailed, and then confession flowed from him withthe 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 marriesher you'll get fed on bannock and salt pork. He's sourer'nbonny-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 hehas on his own place. I'm the one to stick to, ' says he. 'I've gota 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 donewhat he planned. I needed the money, and I done it. He says to methat we'll do things to him to make him act crazy, and we'll tellher that he's dangerous, and then you can tell him, says he, thatshe's turned witch, and is doin' them things to him; ''cause a manthat has got his first wife buried in front of his doorstep is foolenough to believe most anything, ' says he. "

"Well, " remarked Hiram, after a long breath, "this 'sezzer, ' whoeverhe may be, when he got to sezzin', seems to have made up his mindthat there was one grand, sweet song of love in this locality thatwas goin' to be sung by a steam-calliope, and wind up with boilerbustin'. "

"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 couldnot conceal, as he returned the Cap'n's earlier taunt upon thatgentleman himself, "is not an old maids' quiltin'-bee, where theythrow out the main point as soon's they get their hoods off, and thenspend the rest of the afternoon talkin' it over. Things has to taketheir 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 tolet you in on this? Or do you want to be proved out as the originalold 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 mesick. "

This amazing demolishment of his superstition left Mr. Gammongasping. Only one pillar of that mental structure was standing. Hegrabbed 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 withher own mouth. "

The Haskell boy, still in the clutch of Hiram, evidently believedthat the kind of confession that was good for the soul was fullconfession. 

"I told her that the time you was dangerousest was when any onedisputed with you about not havin' the witches. I told her that ifyou ever said anything she'd better join in and agree with you, andhumor 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 ofthe melancholy Mr. Gammon. Two vivid red spots showed that, afterall, it was blood, not water, that flowed in his veins. 

"Dod lather you to a fritter, you little freckle-faced, snub-nosedson of seco!" he yelped, shrilly. "I've been a mild and peaceableman all my life, but I'm a good mind to--I'm a good mind to--" Hesearched his meek soul for enormities of retribution, and declared:"I'm a good mind to skin you, hide, pelt, and hair. I'll cuff yourears up to a pick, any way!" But Hiram pushed him away when headvanced. 

"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 bequite a man. I was afraid you wasn't anything but a rusty marker fora 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 lickthe boy! This investigation is strictly official and according tothe law, and he's turned State's evidence. It's the other critterthat you want to be gettin' your muscle up for--the feller that wastryin' to get the widder and the property away from you. All the otherevidence 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 theyouth. 

There are moments in life when language fails, when words are vain;when even a whisper would take the edge from a situation. Such amoment seemed that one when Hiram Look and Cap'n Sproul gazed at eachother 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 gazingat them with increasing curiosity. 

"Haskell boy, " commanded Hiram, "tell her--tell her straight, anddo it quick. "

And when the confession, which went more glibly the second time, wasconcluded, the investigator gave the culprit a toss in the directionof the Gammon farm, and shouted after him: "Go get that calf downout of that apple-tree, and set down with him and trace out yourfamily relationship. You'll probably find you're first cousins. "

Mrs. Orff had sunk down weakly on a bed of asters, and was staringfrom face to face. 

"Marm, " said Hiram, taking off his plug hat and advancing close tothe fence, "Cap'n Sproul and myself don't make it our business topry into private affairs, or to go around this town saving decentwimmen from Batson Reeves. But we seem to have more or less of itshoved onto us as a side-line. You listen to me! Batson Reeves wasthe man that lied to the girl I was engaged to thirty years ago, andbroke 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 manof 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 wasin danger, and he wanted to be my protector. "

"Protector!" sneered Hiram. "Since he's been a widderer he's beentryin' to court and marry every woman in the town of Smyrna that'sgot a farm and property. We know it. We can prove it. All he wantsis money! You've just escaped by luck, chance, and the skin of yourteeth from a cuss that northin' is too low for him to lay his handto. What do you think of a man that, in order to make trouble anddisgrace for his neighbors, will dress up in his dead wife's clothesand 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 afew 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 hiscoat-collar with the air of a friend. 

"Gammon, " said he, "what are you goin' to do to him? Me and the Cap'nare 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 everseen there before. His eyes were narrowed. His pointed tongue lickedhis lips. His thin hair bristled. 

"What are you goin' to do to him?"

"Lick him!" replied Mr. Gammon. It was laconic, but it sounded likea rat-tail file on steel. 

"You can do it!" said Hiram, cheerfully. "The Cap'n and I both havedone 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 bitterervenom. 

"That will be a good place to lay for him; right down there by thealders, " 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-daythat I'm a pretty shrewd chap to guess. I've been round the worldenough to put two and two together. Makin' man my study is how I'vegot my property. Now, Gammon, you've got that writin' by SquireAlcander Reeves. When you said 'brother' it reminded me of what I'vebeen ponderin'. Bat Reeves has been making the Widder Orff mattera still hunt. His brother wasn't on. When you went to the squire tocomplain, squire saw a chance to get the Cap'n into a lawscrape--slander, trespass, malicious mischief--something! Themlawyers are ready for anything!"

"Reg'lar sharks!" snapped the selectman. 

"Now, " continued Hiram, "after you've got Bat Reeves licked to anextent that will satisfy inquirin' friends and all partiesinterested, you hand that writin' to him! It will show him that hisblasted fool of a lawyer brother, by tryin' to feather his own nest, has lost him the widder and her property, got him his lickin', andput him into a hole gen'rally. Tell him that if it hadn't been forthat paper drivin' us out here northin' would have been known. "

Hiram put up his nose and drew in a long breath of propheticsatisfaction. 

"And if I'm any judge of what 'll be the state of Bat Reeves's feelin'sin general when he gets back to the village, the Reeves family willfinish up by lickin' each other--and when they make a lawsuit outof that it will be worth while wastin' a few hours in court to listento. How do you figger it, Cap'n?"

"It's a stem-windin', self-actin' proposition that's wound up, andis now tickin' smooth and reg'lar, " said the Cap'n, with deepconviction. "They'll both get it!"

And they did. 

Cap'n Aaron Sproul and Hiram Look shook hands on the news before nineo'clock the next morning. 

XIX

Mr. Loammi Crowther plodded up the road. Mr. Eleazar Bodge stumpeddown the road. 

They arrived at the gate of Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman ofSmyrna, simultaneously. 

Bathed in the benignancy of bland Indian summer, Cap'n Sproul andhis friend Hiram Look surveyed these arrivals from the porch of theSproul house. 

At the gate, with some apprehensiveness, Mr. Bodge gave Mr. Crowtherprecedence. As usual when returning from the deep woods, Mr. Crowtherwas bringing a trophy. This time it was a three-legged lynx, whichsullenly squatted on its haunches and allowed itself to be draggedthrough 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 infantin its cradle. "

The cat rolled back its lips and snarled. Mr. Bodge retreated asnimbly 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 turriblegrateful, " 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 himRobert--Bob for short, " explained the captor, wistfully. 

"You call him off--that's what you call him, " shouted Mr. Bodge. "Ihain't had one leg chawed off by a mowin'-machine to let a cust hyenychaw off the other. Git out of that gateway. I've got business herewith these gents. "

"So've I, " returned Mr. Crowther, meekly; and he went in, dragginghis friend. 

"I done your arrunt, " he announced to the Cap'n. "I cruised themtimberlands from Dan to Beersheby, and I'm ready to state facts andfiggers. "

"Go ahead and state, " commanded the Cap'n. 

"I reckon it better be in private, " advised the other, his pale-blueeyes resting dubiously on Hiram. 

"I ain't got no secrets from him, " said the Cap'n, smartly. "Breakcargo!"

"You'll wish you heard it in private, " persisted Mr. Crowther, withdeep meaning. "It ain't northin' you'll be proud of. "

"I'll run along, I guess!" broke in the old showman. "It may besomething--"

"It ain't, " snapped the Cap'n. "It's only about them timberlands thatmy wife owned with her brother, Colonel Gideon Ward. Estate wasn'tdivided when the old man Ward died, and since we've been married I'vehad power of attorney from my wife to represent her. " His jaw-musclesridged under his gray beard, and his eyes narrowed in angryreminiscence. 

"We've had two annual settlements, me and her brother. First time'twas a free fight--next time 'twas a riot--third time, well, ifthere had been a third time I'd have killed him. So I saved myselffrom State Prison by dividin' accordin' to the map, and then I sentCrowther up to look the property over. There ain't no secret. Yousit down, Hiram. "

"Considerin' the man, I should think you'd have done your lookin'over before you divided, " suggested the showman. He scented dolefulpossibilities in Mr. Crowther's mien. 

"If I'd done business with him fifteen minutes longer by the clockI'd have been in prison now for murder--and it would have been abloody murder at that, " blurted the Cap'n. "It had to be over anddone with short and sharp. He took half. I took half. Passed papers. He got away just before I lost control of myself. Narrowest escapeI ever had. All I know about the part I've got is that it's well woodedand well watered. "

"It is, " agreed Mr. Crowther, despondently. "It's the part where thebig reservoir dam flows back for most twenty miles. You can sail allover it in a bo't, and cut toothpicks from the tops of thesecond-growth birch. He collected all the flowage damages. He'slumbered the rest of your half till there ain't northin' there buthoop poles and battens. All the standin' timber wuth anything is onhis 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 swapjack-knives, sight unseen, but how a man grown would do a thing likeyou done I don't understand. "

"Nor I, " agreed the Cap'n, gloomily. "I reckon about all I wasthinkin' 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 whenyou kill a brother-in-law. I took half. He took half. Bein' asailorman, 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 oftownship 'Leven for a game-preserve, and found when he got up therethat 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 wasswamp-swogons, witherlicks, and doodywhackits. "

"What's them?" inquired the Cap'n, as though he hoped that he mightat 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 aday, amountin' to--"

"Here! Take that and shut up!" barked the Cap'n, shoving bills athim. Then he wagged a stubby finger under Mr. Crowther's nose. "Nowyou mark well what I say to you! This thing stays right here amongus. 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 feedyou 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 sulkycaptive. 

"And you needn't worry about me, neither, " affirmed Mr. Bodge, whohad been standing unnoted in the shadow of the woodbine. 

"Of course, " he continued, "I ain't got so thick with either of yougents as some others has in this place, never likin' to push myselfin 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 checkedcertain remarks that the Cap'n was about to address to theeavesdropper. 

Mr. Bodge took advantage of the truce, and seated himself on the edgeof 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 forestprimeval! I knowed I was comin' here at just the right time. I'vegot 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. Hereit 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 haveto be backed with capital. I've tried to fight it out, gents, on myown hook. I said to myself right along, 'Brains has got to win inthe end, Bodge. Keep on!' But have they? No! Five hundred partunts, gents, locked up in the brains of Eleazar Bodge! Strugglin' to getout! And capital pooled against me! Ignoramuses foolin' the worldwith makeshifts because they've got capital behind 'em to boost themand keep others down--and Bodge with five hundred partunts right herewaitin'. " Again he patted the shiny sphere shoved above the riot ofhair 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 theoutside. "

"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 mywoman with the flour-barrel ended up and poundin' on the bottom withthe rollin'-pin to get out enough for the last batch of biscuit. Thelong roll beside the graves of departed heroes ain't so sad as thatsound. I see my oldest boy in the dooryard with the toes of his bootsyawed open like sculpins' mouths. My daughter has outgrown her dresstill she has to wear two sets of wristers to keep her arms warm--andshe looks like dressed poultry. And as for me, I don't dare to setdown enough to get real rested, because my pants are so thin I'mafraid I can't coax 'em along through next winter. I've come to theplace, gents, where I've give up. I can't fight the trusts any longerwithout some backin'. I've got to have somebody take holt of me andget what's in me out. I reelize it now. It's in me. Once out it willmake 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 commonrun of men don't have. How is it my brains gallop when other brainscreep? It's that mysterious force in me. Seein' is believin'. Proofis better than talkin'. Cap'n Sproul, you just take hold of one ofmy whiskers and yank it out. Take any one, so long's it's a goodlengthy one. "

His tone was that of a sleight-of-hand man offering a pack of cardsfor a draw. 

The Cap'n obeyed after Mr. Bodge had repeated his request severaltimes, shoving his mat of beard out invitingly. 

Mr. Bodge took the whisker from the Cap'n's hand, pinched its buttfirmly between thumb and forefinger and elevated it in front of hisface. It stuck straight up. Then it began to bend until its tip almosttouched his lips. A moment thus and it bent in the other direction. 

"There!" cried Mr. Bodge, triumphantly. "Thomas A. Edison himselfcouldn'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 thinkthat I done that with my breath. But there is a strange power aboutme. 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 athome. I'm all business when it comes to business. " He stuck up a grimyfinger. "You've got to concede the mysterious power because you'veseen it for yourselves. Now you come over to my house with me andI'll show you a few inventions that I've been able to put into shapein spite of the damnable combination of the trusts. "

He slid off the porch and started away, beckoning them after him withthe battered derby. 

"I've heard 'em buzz in my time, too, " sneered Hiram, pushing backhis plug hat, "but that hummin' is about the busiest yet. He couldhold a lighted taller candle in his hand and jump off'm a roof andthink 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 sightof him you wouldn't think he could be used. But when I laid eyes onold Dot-and-carry-one there, and when he grabbed into this thing theway he did just as I was thinkin' hard of what Colonel Gid Ward hasdone 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'llmeet 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, stoppingto relight his cigar, went along, too, reflecting that when a manhas plenty of time on his hands he can afford to spend a little ofit on the gratification of curiosity. 

The first exhibits in the domain of Bodge were not cheering orsuggestive of value. For instance, from among the litter in atumble-down shop Mr. Bodge produced something in the shape of afive-pointed star that he called his "Anti-stagger Shoe. "

"I saw old Ike Bradley go past here with a hard-cider jag that loopedover till its aidges dragged on the ground, " he explained. "I tiedcross-pieces onto his feet and he went along all level. Now see howa quick mind like mine acts? Here's the anti-stagger shoe. To be keptin all city clubs and et cetry. Let like umbrellas. Five places ineach shoe for a man to shove his foot. Can't miss it. Then he startsoff braced front, sides, and behind. "

Hiram sniffed and the Cap'n was pensive, his thoughts apparentlyactive, but not concerned in any way with the "Anti-stagger Shoe. "

The "Patent Cat Identifier and Introducer, " exhibited in actualoperation in the Bodge home, attracted more favorable attention frominspecting capital. Mr. Bodge explained that this device allowed ahard-working man to sleep after he once got into bed, and saved hiswife from running around nights in her bare feet and getting coldand incurring disease and doctors' bills. It was an admitted factin natural history, he stated, that the uneasy feline is eitheryowling 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, hingedat the top. This permitted egress, but not ingress. 

"An ordinary, cheap inventor would have had the panel swing bothways, " said Mr. Bodge, "and he would have a kitchen full of strangecats, with a skunk or two throwed in for luck. You see that I've hingeda pane of winder-glass and hitched it to a bevelled stick that tipsinward. Cat gets up on the sill outside and meows. Dog runs to thewinder and stands up to see, and puts his paws on the stick becauseit's his nature for to do so. Pane tips in. If it's our cat, dog don'tstop her comin' in. If it's a strange cat--br-r-r, wow-wow! Off shegoes!"

Mr. Bodge noted with satisfaction the gleam of interest in capital'seyes. 

"You can reckon that at least a million families in this country owncats--and the nature of cats and dogs can be depended on to be thesame, " said Mr. Bodge. "It's a self-actin' proposition, thisidentifier and introducer; that means fortunes for all concernedjust as soon as capital gets behind it. And I've got five hundredbigger partunts wrasslin' around in my head. "

But Cap'n Sproul continued to be absorbed in thought, as though thesolution of a problem still eluded him. 

"But if capital takes holt of me, " proceeded Mr. Bodge, "I wantcapital to have the full layout. There ain't goin' to be no reserves, the same as there is with most of these cheatin' corporations thesedays. You come with me. "

They followed him into a scraggly orchard, and he broke a crotchedlimb from a tree. With a "leg" of this twig clutched firmly in eitherhand he stumped about on the sward until the crotch suddenly turneddownward. 

"There's runnin' water there, " announced the wizard, stabbing thesoil with his peg-leg. "I can locate a well anywhere, any place. WhenI use willer for a wand it will twist in my hands till the bark peelsoff. You see, I'm full of it--whatever it is. I showed you that muchwith the whisker. I started in easy with you. It makes me dizzysometimes to foller myself. I have to be careful and let out a linkat a time, or I'd take folks right off'm their feet. Now you comewith me and keep cool--or as cool as you can, because I'm goin' totell you something that will give you sort of a mind-colic if youain't careful how you take it in. "

He pegged ahead of them, led the way around behind a barn that wasskeow-wowed in the last stages of dilapidation, and faced them withexcitement vibrating his streaming whiskers. 

"This, now, " he declared, "is just as though I took you into anational bank, throwed open the safe door, and said: 'Gents, helpyourselves!'"

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 wereinserted two strips of whalebone, and these he grasped, as he hadclutched 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'shorn turned downward and the whalebone strips twisted. 

"It's a divinin'-rod to find buried treasure, " said Mr. Bodge; "andit'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 pluggedin there. You see for yourself what it will do when it comes neargold 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'swell taken care of by the men that own it; and just what good it'sgoin' to do to play pointer-dog with that thing there, and go roundand 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 tohear 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 newinterest 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'dhave heard of it. Years ago I read all that hist'ry ever had to sayabout it. I said then to myself, 'Bodge, ' says I, 'if the treasureof old Cap Kidd is ever found, it will be you with your wonderfulpowers that will find it!' I always said that to myself. I know itnow. 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 coldpracticality. 

"Diggin' old Cap Kidd's treasure ain't like digging a mess ofpotaters for dinner, Mr. Look. The song says 'Cod Lead Nubble. ' OldCap Kidd composed that song, and he put in the wrong place just tothrow folks off'm the track. But if I had capital behind me I'd hirea schooner and sail round them islands down there, one after theother; and with that power that's in me I could tell the right islandthe minute I got near it. Then set me ashore and see how quick thisdivinin'-rod would put me over that chist! But it's buried deep. It'sgoin' to take muscle and grit to dig it up. But the right crew cando it--and that's where capital comes in. Capital ain't ever tackledit right, and that's why capital ain't got hold of that treasure. "

"I reckon I'll be movin' along, " remarked Hiram, with resentmentbristling the horns of his mustache; "it's the first time I ever hada 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'. Ihad instink that I could use him. But I couldn't figger it. It ain'tall 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. "Ithought that prob'ly you knew some stylish and reliablegold-bricker--havin' met same when you was travellin' round in theshow 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 thatyou 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 theone to use. There's the trouble in findin' a reliable one. And evenwhen the feller got afoul of him, the chances are the old land-pirutwould steal the brick. This here"--jabbing thumb at Mr. Bodge--"isfresher bait. I believe the old shark will gobble it if he's fishedfor right. What's your idea?"

"Well, generally speakin', " drawled Hiram, sarcastically, "it isthat you've got softenin' of the brain. I can't make head or tailout of anything that you're sayin'. "

Cap'n Sproul waked suddenly from the reverie in which he had beentalking as much to himself as to Hiram. 

"Say, look here, you can understand this, can't you, that I've beendone out of good property--buncoed by a jeeroosly old hunk ofhornbeam?"

"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 manthat'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'rethe same thing spelled different. I'm just goin' to do him, that'sall, and instink is whisperin' how. " He turned his back on the showmanand ran calculating eye over Mr. Bodge. 

"I don't hardly see how that old hair mattress there is goin' to berung in on the deal, " growled Hiram. 

"Nor I, " agreed the Cap'n, frankly; "not so fur as the details appearto 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'mpresident of you, and my friend here is sekertary. And you're to keepyour mouth shut. "

Mr. Bodge agreed with effusive gratitude, and capital went its way. The inventor chased after them with thumping peg-leg to inquirewhether he should first perfect the model of the "cat identifier, "or develop his idea of an automatic chore-doer, started by therooster tripping a trigger as he descended to take his matutinalsniff 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 prayerwill do wonders in this world, especially when you're mad enough. "

XX

The night seemed to afford counsel, for the next day Cap'n Sproulwalked into the dooryard of Colonel Gideon Ward with featurescomposed to an almost startling expression of amiability. TheColonel, haunted by memories and stung by a guilty conscience, appeared at the door, and his mien indicated that he was preparedfor instant and desperate combat. 

At the end of a half-hour's discourse, wholly by the Cap'n, his facehad lost a measure of its belligerency, but sullen fear had takenits place. For Cap'n Sproul's theme had been the need of peace andmutual confidence in families, forbearance and forgetfulness ofinjuries that had been mutual. The Cap'n explained that almost alwaysproperty troubles were the root of family evils, and that as soonas property disputes were eliminated in his case, he at once had cometo a realizing sense of his own mistakes and unfair attitude, andhad come to make frank and manly confession, and to shake hands. Wouldthe Colonel shake hands?

The Colonel shook hands apprehensively, bending back and ready toduck a blow. Would the Colonel consent to mutual forgiveness, andto dwell thereafter in bonds of brotherly affection? The Colonel hadonly voiceless stammerings for reply, which the Cap'n translated tohis own satisfaction, and went away, casting the radiance of thatstartling amiability over his shoulder as he departed. Colonel Wardstared 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 onthe Colonel's mistrustful fears, but the Cap'n was patient. In theend, Colonel Ward, having carefully viewed this astonishingconversion from all points, accepted the amity as proof of theguileless nature of a simple seaman, and on his own part reciprocatedwith warmth--laying up treasures of friendship against that possibleday of discovery and wrath that his guilty conscience suggested. 

If Colonel Ward, striving to reciprocate, had not been so anxiousto please Cap'n Sproul in all his vagaries he would have barkedderisive 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 byuse of a witch-hazel rod, but allowed that the buried-treasureproposition was too stiff batter for him to swallow. He did come atlast to accept Cap'n Sproul's dictum that there was once a CaptainKidd, and that he had buried vast wealth somewhere--for Cap'n Sproulas a sailorman seemed to be entitled to the possession of authorityon that subject. But beyond that point there was reservation thatdidn't fit with Cap'n Sproul's calculations. 

"Blast his old pork rind!" confided the Cap'n to Hiram. "I can circlehim round and round the pen easy enough, but when I try to head himthrough the gate, he just sets back and blinks them hog eyes at meand grunts. To get near him at all I had to act simple, and I reckonI've overdone it. Now he thinks I don't know enough to know that oldBodge is mostly whiskers and guesses. He's known Bodge longer'n Ihave, and Bodge don't seem to be right bait. I can't get into hiswallet by first plan. "

"It wasn't no kind of a plan, anyway, " said Hiram, bluntly. "Itwouldn't be stickin' him good and plenty enough to have Bodgeunloaded onto him, just Bodge and northin' else done. 'Twasn'tcomplicated enough. "

"I ain't no good on complicated plots, " mourned Cap'n Sproul. 

"You see, " insisted Hiram, "you don't understand dealin' with jaynature the same as I do. Takes the circus business to post you onjays. Once in a while they'll bite a bare hook, but not often. Jaysdon't get hungry till they see sure things. Your plain word of oldCap Kidd and buried treasure sounds good, and that's all. In theshell-game the best operator lets the edge of the shell rest on thepea carelesslike, as though he didn't notice it, and then jogglesit down over as if by accident; and, honest, the jay hates to takethe 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 intothe package. Then look troubled, and try to stop him from buyin' thatpackage! You ain't done anything to show your brother-in-law thatBodge ain't a blank. "

The Cap'n turned discouraged gaze on his friend. "I've got to giveit up, " he complained. "I ain't crook enough. He's done me, and I'llhave to stay done. "

Hiram tapped the ashes from his cigar, musingly surveyed his diamondring, and at last said: "I ain't a butter-in. But any time you getready to holler for advice from friends, just holler. "

"I holler, " said the Cap'n, dispiritedly. 

"Holler heard by friends, " snapped Hiram, briskly. "Friends allready with results of considerable meditation. You go right over andtell your esteemed relative that you're organizin' an expedition todiscover Cap Kidd's treasure, and invite him to go along as memberof your family, free gratis for nothin', all bills paid, and muchobleeged to him for pleasant company. "

"Me pay the bills?" demanded the Cap'n. 

"Money advanced for development work on Bodge, that's all! To betaken care of when Bodge is watered ready for sale. Have thoroughunderstandin' with esteemed relative that no shares in Bodge are forsale. Esteemed relative to be told that any attempt on the trip tobuy into Bodge will be considered fightin' talk. Bodge and allresults from Bodge are yours, and you need him along--esteemedrelative--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 combinedwith a chance of perhaps doin' over again such an easy thing as youseem 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'sfront door and stumped in eagerly. "He'll go!" he reported. "Now letme 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, Idon'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 hirehalf a dozen men--say, Jackson Denslow, Zeburee Nute, Brad Wade, SethSwanton, Ferd Parrott, and Ludelphus Murray. Be sure they're allmembers 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 Ican make them keep their mouths shut. I'll show you later why we'llneed 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 Portlandfor 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 alongwith men and esteemed relative. "

"It sounds almighty complicated for a plot, " said the Cap'n. In hisheart he resented Hiram's masterfulness and his secretiveness. 

"This ain't no timber-land deal, " retorted Hiram, smartly, and withcutting sarcasm. "You may know how to sail a ship and lick Portygeesailors, but there's some things that you can afford to take advicein. "

On the second day Cap'n Sproul departed unobtrusively from Smyrna, with the radiant Mr. Bodge in a new suit of ready-made clothes ashis seat-mate in the train. 

Smyrna perked up and goggled its astonishment when Hiram Look shippedhis pet elephant, Imogene, by freight in a cattle-car, and followedby next train accompanied by various tight-mouthed members of theSmyrna fire department and Colonel Gideon Ward. 

Cap'n Sproul had the topmast schooner _Aurilla P. Dobson_ handilydocked at Commercial Wharf, and received his crew and brother-in-lawwith cordiality that changed to lowering gloom when Hiram followedten minutes later towing the placid Imogene, and followed by awondering concourse of men and boys whom his triumphal parade throughthe streets from the freight-station had attracted. With animbleness acquired in years of touring the elephant came on board. 

Cap'n Sproul gazed for a time on this unwieldy passenger, surveyingthe arrival of various drays laden with tackle, shovels, mysteriousboxes, and baled hay, and then took Hiram aside, deep discontentwrinkling his forehead. 

"I know pretty well why you wanted Gid Ward along on the trip. I'vegot 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 dunnageon them trucks. But what in the devil you're goin' to do with thatcust-fired old elephant--and she advertisin' this thing to the fourcorners of God's creation--well, it's got my top-riggin' snarled. "

"Sooner you get your crew to work loadin', sooner you'll get awayfrom sassy questions, " replied Hiram, serenely, wagging his head atthe 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 whichHiram had emphasized "sassy questions, " pulled the peak of his capover his eyes, and became for once more in his life the autocrat ofthe quarter-deck. 

An hour later the packet was sluggishly butting waves with her bluntbows in the lower harbor, Cap'n Sproul hanging to the weather-wornwheel, and roaring perfectly awful profanity at the clumsy attemptsof his makeshift crew. 

"I've gone to sea with most everything in the line of cat-meat ontwo legs, " he snarled to Hiram, who leaned against the rail puffingat a long cigar with deep content, "but I'll be billy-hooed if I eversaw six men before who pulled on the wrong rope every time, and pulledthe wrong way on every wrong rope. You take them and--and thatelephant, " he added, grimly returning to that point of dispute, "andwe've got an outfit that I'm ashamed to have the Atlantic Ocean seeme in company with. "

"Don't let that elephant fuss you up, " said Hiram, complacentlyregarding 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 withforesight like me. When you get to hoistin' dirt in buckets she'llbe worth a hundred dollars an hour, and beat any steam-winch everoperated. "

Again the Cap'n felt resentment boil sourly within him. This dolingof plans and plot to him seemed to be a reflection on hisintelligence. 

"Reckon it's buried deep, do you?" inquired Colonel Ward, a flavorof satiric skepticism in his voice. He was gazing quizzically forwardto where Mr. Bodge sat on the capstan's drumhead, his nose elevatedwith wistful eagerness, his whiskers flapping about his ears, hiseyes 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 apa'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 ofit. The trouble is with people, Colonel, they forget that there wasa 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. "Mostevery genius is more or less a lunatic. It needed capital to developBodge. It's takin' capital to make Bodge and his idea worth anything. This is straight business run on business principles! Bodge is likeone 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 businessinstinct at the fore. 

"Not by a blame sight, " declared Hiram, to the Cap'n's astonishedalarm. "It would be like givin' a dirt bucket or that elephant ashare. "

When the Cap'n was about to expostulate, Hiram kicked him unobservedand went on: "I'm bein' confidential with you, Colonel, becauseyou're one of the family, and of course are interested in seein' yourbrother-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'sbusiness. But of course it's between us. "

When Colonel Ward strolled away in meditative mood the Cap'n madeindignant remonstrance. 

"Ain't I got trouble enough on my hands with them six Durham steersforrads to manage without gettin' into a free fight with old Bodge?"he demanded. "There ain't any treasure, anyway. You don't believeit 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 wereno good on complicated plots, and put everything into my hands. Itwill stay in my hands, and I don't want any advice. Any time you wantto 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 theprincipals. 

On the afternoon of the second day Mr. Bodge, whom no solicitationcould coax from his vigil on the capstan, broke his trance. 

"That's the island, " he shouted, flapping both hands to mark hischoice. 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 headprojected forward like a whiskered figurehead, and was the first onthe beach. 

"He's certainly the spryest peg-legger I ever saw, " commented Hiram, admiringly, as the treasure-hunter started away, his cow's-horndivining-rod in position. The members of Hecla fire department, gladto feel land under their country feet once more, capered about onthe beach, surveying the limited attractions with curious eyes. Zeburee Nute, gathering seaweed to carry home to his wife, strippedthe surface of a bowlder, and called excited attention to an anchorand a cross rudely hacked into the stone. 

"It's old Cap Kidd's mark, " whispered Hiram to Colonel Ward. And withkeen gaze he noted the Colonel's tongue lick his blue lips, and sawthe gold lust beginning to gleam in his eyes. 

Hiram was the only one who noted this fact: that, concealed undermore seaweed, there was a date whose modernity hinted that theinscription was the work of some loafing yachtsman. 

As he rose from his knees he saw Mr. Bodge pause on a hillock, armsrigidly akimbo, the point of the cow's horn directed straight down. 

"I've found it!" he squealed. "It's here! Come on, come one, comeall and dig, for God sakes!"

The excitement of those first few hours was too much for theself-control of Colonel Gideon Ward's avaricious nature. Hehesitated a long time, blinking hard as each shovelful of dirtsprayed against the breeze. Then he grasped an opportunity when hecould talk with Cap'n Sproul apart, and said, huskily:

"It's still all guesswork and uncertain, and you stand to lose a lotof expense. I know I promised not to talk business with you, butcouldn'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 meto sell you gold dollars for a cent apiece? When you came on thistrip you understood that Bodge was mine, and that he and this schemewa'n't for sale. Don't ever mention it again or you and me'll havetrouble. "

And Colonel Ward went back to watch the digging, angry, lusting, anddisheartened. 

The next day the hole was far enough advanced to require the servicesof Imogene as bucket-lifter. That docile animal obligingly swamashore, to the great admiration of all spectators. 

On that day it was noted first that gloom was settling on the spiritsof Mr. Bodge. The gloom dated from a conversation held very privatelythe evening before between Mr. Bodge and Colonel Ward. 

Mr. Bodge, pivoting on his peg-leg, stood at the edge of the deepeninghole with a doleful air that did not accord with his enthusiasticclaims as a treasure-hunter. That night he had another conferencewith Colonel Ward, and the next day he stood beside the hole andmuttered constantly in the confidential retirement of his whiskers. On the third day he had a murderous look in his eyes every time heturned them in the direction of Cap'n Sproul. On the night of thefourth day Hiram detected him hopping softly on bare foot across thecabin of the _Dobson_ toward the stateroom of Cap'n Sproul. Hecarried his unstrapped peg-leg in his hand, holding it as he woulda weapon. Detected, he explained to Hiram with guilty confusion thathe was walking in his sleep. The next night, at his own request, hewas left alone on the island, where he might indulge in the frailtyof 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 beacha half-hour later, saw the Colonel's gaunt frame outlined againstthe 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 findout 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 possibletaunt regarding his own reticence. "It's a part of the plot, and plotaforesaid is now ripe enough to be picked. Or, to put it another way, I figger that the esteemed relative has bit and has swallered thehook. "

"Ain't it about time I got let in on this?" demanded the Cap'n, withheat. 

With an air as though about to impart a vital secret, Hiram graspedthe Cap'n's arm and whispered: "I'll tell you just what you've gotto 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 andrevolving venomous thoughts. 

It was a deep hole and a gloomy hole, but when the two arrived atthe edge they could see Mr. Bodge at the bottom. His peg-leg wasunstrapped, and he held it clutched in both hands and brandished itat them the moment their heads appeared over the edge. 

"And there you be, you robber!" he squalled. "You would pick centsoff'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 blackbottle. 

"Come on! Come one, come all!" he screamed. "I'll split every headopen. I'll stay here till I starve. Ye'll have to walk over my deadbody to get it. "

"Well, he's good and drunk, and gone crazy into the bargain, " snortedthe Cap'n, disgustedly. 

"It's a sad thing, " remarked Colonel Ward, his little, hard eyesgleaming 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'rean old thief and liar. "

"There's no bald-headed old sosh that can call me names--not whenI can stop it by droppin' a rock on his head, " stated the Cap'n withvigor. 

"You don't mean to say you'd hurt that unfortunate man?" inquiredColonel Ward. "He has gone insane, I think. He ought to be treatedgently. I probably feel different about it than either of you, whoare comparative strangers in Smyrna. But I've always known EleazarBodge, and I should hate to see any harm come to him. As it is, hisbrain has been turned by this folly over buried treasure. " TheColonel tried to speak with calmness and dignity, but his tones werehusky and his voice trembled. "Perhaps I can handle him better thanany 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 thepit 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 getvery impatient with me when we try to talk business. But I've gota proposition to make, and perhaps I can make it through you. "

Then, seeing that the Cap'n was bending malevolent gaze on them, hedrew 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 talkedit, you've sort of got cold feet on this treasure proposition. " Thiswas 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'sthreatenin' to kill you, and may do so if you try to do more businesswith him. Colonel Ward says he's known him a good many years, andpities him in his present state, and, more than that, has got sortof interested in this Cap Kidd treasure business himself, and hasa 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 overMr. Bodge and this hole to him just as it stands he'll hand you hischeck now for fifteen thousand dollars, and"--the showman hastenedto stop the Cap'n's amazed gasping by adding decisively--"as yourfriend and general manager of this expedition, and knowin' yourfeelin's pretty well, I've accepted and herewith hand you check. Members of Hecla fire company will please take notice of trade. DoI state it right, Colonel Ward?"

The Colonel, with high color mantling his thin cheeks, affirmedhoarsely. 

"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 calmhimself. We'll send a packet from Portland to take 'em off. They wouldlike 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 inexplicablebrother-in-law, and almost incredulous gaze at the check in his hand, Cap'n Sproul turned and marched off down the hill. He promptly wenton board, eager to get that check as far away from its maker aspossible. 

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 theshowman. "You take a complicated plot like that, and when it doesget 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 withiron, after scrapin' away about a foot of dirt, he jest naturallyconcluded he'd rather be equal partners with Colonel Gid Ward thanbe 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 irondown in the hold and planted after dark last night. Yes, sir, withold Bodge standin' there as he was to-day, and reportin' to Ward whathe had under foot, I could have got ten thousand more out of esteemedrelative. But I reckoned that fifteen thousand stood for quite a lotof 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 apacket out after 'em, " he remarked. 

After a few moments of blissful contemplation he said, with a littlenote of regret in his voice: "I wish you had let me know about thatplankin'. I'd have liked to put a little writin' under it--somethingsarcastic, that they could sort of meditate on when they sit therein that hole and look at each other. 

"It was certainly a complicated plot, " he went on. "And it had tobe. When you sell a bunch of whiskers and a hole in the ground forfifteen thousand dollars, it means more brain-work than would beneeded in selling enough gold bricks to build a meetin'-house. "

And with such and similar gratulatory communings they found theirsetting forth across the sunlit sea that day an adventuring full ofrich contentment. 

XXI

"She sails about like a clam-shell in a puddle of Porty Reekm'lasses, " remarked Cap'n Aaron Sproul, casting contemptuous eyeinto the swell of the dingy mainsail, and noting the crawl of thefoam-wash under the counter of the _Aurilla P. Dobson_. 

But he could not infect Hiram Look with his dissatisfaction. Theex-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-bookin which he was writing industriously. He stopped to lick the endof his pencil, and gazed at the Cap'n. 

"I was just thinkin' we was havin' about as pleasant a sail as I evertook, " he said. "Warm and sunny, our own fellers on board havin' agood time, and a complicated plot worked out to the queen's taste. "

The Cap'n, glancing behind, noted that a certain scraggly island hadonce more slid into view from behind a wooded head. With his kneepropped against the wheel, he surveyed the island's ridged backbone. 

"Plot seems to be still workin', " he remarked, grimly. "If it wasall worked they'd be out there on them ledges jumpin' about twentyfeet 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 aboutlike bein' anchored, tryin' to ratch this old tin skimmer away fromanywhere. You needn't worry any about our droppin' that island outof sight right away. "

"For a man that's just got even with Colonel Gideon Ward to the tuneof fifteen thousand dollars, and with the check in your pocket, youdon't seem to be enjoyin' the comforts of religion quite as much asa 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 homesickwhen I think of my old four-sticker pilin' white water to herbowsprit'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 ofanything except a three-ring circus, " said his friend, severely. "I'm contented with one elephant these days. It's all theresponsibility I want. " His eyes dwelt fondly on the placid Imogene, couchant amidships. Then he lighted a cigar, using his plug hat fora wind-break, and resumed his labors with the pencil. 

"What be ye writin'--a novel or only a pome?" inquired Cap'n Sproulat last. 

"Log, " replied the unruffled Hiram. "This is the first sea trip Iever made, and whilst I don't know how to reeve the bowsprit or clewup the for'rad hatch, I know that a cruise without a log is likecircus-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 beencheated 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?" demandedthe Cap'n, with rising fire, at this blunt reference to hishumiliation. 

"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'stone was final, and he went on reading:

"Same date. Discovered Eleazar Bodge and his divinin'-rod. Boughtoption on Bodge and his secret of Cap'n Kidd's buried treasure onCod Lead Nubble. September the fifteen to seventeen. Thought up plotto use Bodge to get even with Ward. September the twenty-three. Raised crew in Smyrna for cruise to Cod Lead, crew consistin' of mento be depended on for what was wanted--"

"Not includin' sailin' a vessel, " sneered the Cap'n, squintingforward with deep disfavor to where the members of the Smyrna Ancientand Honorable Firemen's Association were contentedly fishing overthe side of the sluggish _Dobson_. "Here, leave hands off'm thattops'l downhaul!" he yelled, detecting Ludelphus Murray slashing atit with his jack-knife. "My Gawd, if he ain't cut it off!" he groaned. 

Murray, the Smyrna blacksmith, growled back something about notseeing what good the rope did, anyway. 

Cap'n Sproul turned his back on the dim gleam of open sea framed bydistant headlands. 

"I'm ashamed to look the Atlantic Ocean in the face, with that bunchof 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. Beganh'istin' dirt. Dug hole twenty feet deep. Me and L. Murray made faketreasure-chist cover out of rotten planks. Planted treasure-chistcover. Let E. Bodge and G. Ward discover same, and made believe wedidn't know of it. Sold out E. Bodge and all chances to G. Ward forfifteen thousand and left them to dig, promisin' to send off packetfor them. Sailed with crew and elephant to cash check before G. Wardcan get ashore to stop payment. Plot complicated, but it worked, andhas helped to pass away time. "

"That ain't no kind of a ship's log, " objected the Cap'n, who hadlistened to the reading with an air too sullen for a man who hadprofited as much by the plot. "There ain't no mention of wind norweather nor compass nor--"

"You can put 'em all in if you want to, " broke in Hiram. "I don'tbother 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 oflike stealin' money. "

"It's a good deal like it, " assented Hiram, readily. "But he stolefrom you first. " He took up the old spy-glass and levelled it acrossthe rail. 

"That's all of log to date, " he mumbled in soliloquy. "Now if I couldsee--"

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 itwobbles. But it's either them or gulls a-flappin'. "

Cap'n Sproul's brown hands clasped the rope-wound telescope, and hetrained its lens with seaman's steadiness. 

"It's them, " he said, with a chuckle of immense satisfaction. They'rehoppin' up and down on the high ridge, and slattin' their arms inthe air. It ain't no joy-dance, that ain't. I've seen PatagonianInjuns a war-dancin'. It's like that. They've got that plank coverpried up. I wisht I could hear what they are sayin'. "

"I can imagine, " returned Hiram, grimly. "Hold it stiddy, so's I canlook. Them old arms of Colonel Gid is goin' some, " he observed, aftera pause. "It will be a wonder if he don't shake his fists off. "

"There certainly is something cheerful about it--lookin' back andknowin' what they must be sayin', " observed the Cap'n, losing histemporary 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 afraidof lawyers--and with good reason--that you'd have let him get awaywith his plunder before you'd have gone to law--and he knew it whenhe 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 withradiant good-nature. The Cap'n broke his grip in order to twirl thewheel, 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 toport, fetch Half-way Rock, and slide into Portland on the starboardtack, 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'srub it into 'em. Stand out. "

"With them pea-bean pullers to work ship?" He pointed to the devotedband of Smyrna fire-fighters, who were joyously gathering in withvarying luck a supply of tomcod and haddock to furnish the larderinshore. "When I go huntin' for trouble it won't be with a gang ofhoss-marines like that. "

Hiram, as foreman of the Ancients, felt piqued at this slightingreference to his men, and showed it. 

"They can pull ropes when you tell 'em to, " he said. "Leastways, whenit comes to brains, I reckon they'll stack up better'n them Portygeesyou used to have. "

"I never pretended that them Portygees had any brains at all, " saidthe Cap'n, grimly. "They come aboard without brains, and I took abelayin'-pin and batted brains into 'em. I can't do that to thesecritters here. It would be just like 'em to misunderstand the wholething 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. "Butyou've talked so much of deep water, and weatherin' Cape Horn, and--"

"Afraid? Me afraid?" roared the Cap'n, spatting his broad hand onhis breast. "Me, that kicked my dunnage-bag down the fo'c's'le-hatchat 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 hastilyforward. 

"Here!" he bawled, cuffing the taut sheets to point his meaning, "when I get back to the wheel and holler 'Ease away!' you fellersget hold of these ropes, untie 'em, and let out slow till I tell youstop. And then tie 'em just as you find 'em. "

They did so clumsily, Cap'n Sproul swearing under his breath, andat 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 yellabout untyin' ropes and tyin' 'em up like I was givin' off ordersin a cow-barn!"

"Well, they done it all right--and they done it pretty slick, so faras I could see, " interjected Hiram. 

"Done it!" sneered the Cap'n. "Eased sheets here in this puddle, ina breeze about stiff enough to winnow oats! Supposin' it was a blow, with a gallopin' sea! Me runnin' around this deck taggin' gool onhalyards, lifts, sheets, and downhauls, and them hoss-marinesfollerin' me up. Davy Jones would die laughin', unless some onepounded him on the back to help him get his breath. "

Now that his mariner's nose was turned toward the sea once again afterhis two years of landsman's hebetude, all his seaman's instinct, allhis seaman's caution, revived. His nose snuffed the air, his eyesstudied the whirls of the floating clouds. There was nothingespecially ominous in sight. 

The autumn sun was warm. The wind was sprightly but not heavy. Andyet his mariner's sense sniffed something untoward. 

The _Dobson_, little topmast hooker, age-worn and long beforerelegated to the use of Sunday fishing-parties "down the bay, " hadfor barometer only a broken affair that had been issued to advertisethe virtues of a certain baking-powder. It was roiled permanentlyto 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'reafraid to tackle a little deep water once more, just for the sakeof an outin', then I've no more to say. I've heard of railro'dengineers and sea-capt'ns losin' their nerve. I didn't know but ithad happened to you. "

"Well, it ain't, " snapped the Cap'n, indignantly. And yet his sailorinstinct scented menace. He couldn't explain it to that cynical oldcircus-man, intent on a day's outing. Had it not been for Hiram'spresence and his taunt, Cap'n Sproul would have promptly turned tailto the Atlantic and taken his safe and certain way along the reachesand under shelter of the islands. But reflecting that Hiram Look, back in Smyrna, might circulate good-natured derogation of hismariner's courage, Cap'n Sproul set the _Dobson's_ blunt nose to theheave of the sea, and would not have quailed before a tidal wave. 

The Smyrna contingent hailed this adventuring into greater depthsas a guarantee of bigger fish for the salt-barrel at home, andproceeded to cut bait with vigor and pleased anticipation. 

Only the Cap'n was saturnine, and even lost his interest in theanimated figures on distant Cod Lead Nubble, though Hiram could notdrag his eyes from them, seeing in their frantic gestures thedenouement 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 Smyrnarather than worried them. So steady was the lift and sweep of thelong roll that they gave over fishing and snored wholesomely in thesun on deck. Hiram dozed over his cigar, having paid zestfulattention to the dinner that Jackson Denslow had spread in thegalley. 

Only Cap'n Sproul, at the wheel, was alert and awake. With somemisgivings he noted that the trawl fishers were skimming toward portin their Hampton boats. A number of smackmen followed these. Laterhe saw several deeply laden Scotiamen lumbering past on the starboardtack, 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 gotsoftenin' of the brain, " he muttered; "livin' inshore has given itto me. 'Cause if I was in my right senses I'd be runnin' a race withthem fellers to see which would get inside Bug Light and to a safeanchorage first. And yet I'm standin' on with this old bailin'-dishbecause I'm afraid of what a landlubber will say to folks in Smyrnaabout 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 whenit's ready. They couldn't smell nasty weather even if 'twas daubedonto 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-linewas only a blue thread on the northern horizon, Cap'n Sproul hadcompletely satisfied his suspicions as to a certain bunch of slatycloud. 

There was a blow in it--a coming shift of wind preceded by flaws thatmade the Cap'n knot his eyebrows dubiously. 

"There!" he blurted, turning his gaze on Hiram, perched on thegrating. "If you reckon you've got enough of a sail out of this, we'llput about for harbor. But I want it distinctly understood that I ain'tsayin' the word 'enough. ' I'd keep on sailin' to the West Injies ifwe had grub a-plenty to last us. "

"There ain't grub enough, " suggested Jackson Denslow, who came upfrom the waist with calm disregard of shipboard etiquette. "The boyshave 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 backfor'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 twoor three of the boys are gettin' so. We ain't enlisted for noseafarin' trip. "

"Don't you realize that we're on the high seas now and that you'retalkin' mutiny, and that mutiny's a state-prison crime?" clamoredthe irate skipper. "I'd have killed a Portygee for sayin' a quarteras much. I'd have killed him for settin' foot abaft thegratin'--killed him before he opened his mouth. "

"We ain't Portygees, " rejoined Denslow, stubbornly. "We ain't nosailors. "

"Nor I ain't liar enough to call you sailors, " the Cap'n cried, inscornful fury. 

"If ye want to come right down to straight business, " said therefractory Denslow, "there ain't any man got authority over us exceptMr. 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 ourmouths shut. Same has been done and is bein' done--except in so faras 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-hitchwith a rope's end about a tiller-spoke. He understood this as meaningthat Cap'n Sproul desired to have his hands free for a moment. Hehastened to interpose. 

"We're goin' to start right back, Denslow. You can tell the boys forme. "

"All right, Chief!" said the faithful member of the Ancients, anddeparted. 

"We be goin' back, hey?" The Cap'n had his voice again, and turnedon 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 wherefriendship ceases. You can run your Smyrna fire department on shore, but aboard a vessel where I'm master mariner, by the wall-eyedjeehookibus, there's no man but me bosses! And so long as a sail isup and her keel is movin' I say the say!"

In order to shake both fists under Hiram's nose, he had surrenderedthe wheel to the rope-end. The _Dobson_ paid off rapidly, driven bya sudden squall that sent her lee rail level with the foaming water. Those forward howled in concert. Even the showman's face grew paleas he squatted in the gangway, clutching the house for support. 

"Cut away them ropes! She's goin' to tip over!" squalled Murray, thebig blacksmith. Between the two options--to take the wheel and bringthe clumsy hooker into the wind, or to rush forward and flail hisbunglers away from the rigging--Cap'n Sproul shuttled insanely, rushing to and fro and bellowing furious language. The language hadno effect. With axes and knives the willing crew hacked away everyrope forward that seemed to be anything supporting a sail, and downcame the foresail and two jibs. The Cap'n knocked down the two menwho tried to cut the mainsail halyards. The next moment the _Dobson_jibed under the impulse of the mainsail, and the swinging boomsnapped Hiram's plug hat afar into the sea, and left the showman flaton his back, dizzily rubbing a bump on his bald head. 

For an instant Cap'n Sproul was moved by a wild impulse to let herslat her way to complete destruction, but the sailorman's instincttriumphed, and he worked her round, chewing a strand of his beardwith venom. 

"I don't pretend to know as much about ship managin' as you do, " Hiramventured 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 sideup. "

He knotted a big handkerchief around his head and took his place onthe grating once more. 

"What can we do now?" bawled Murray. 

"You're the one that's issuin' orders 'board here now, " growled theCap'n, bending baleful gaze on the foreman of the Ancients. "Gofor'ard and tell 'em to chop down both masts, and then bore some holesin the bottom to let out the bilge-water. Then they can set her onfire. There might be something them blasted Ancients could do to avessel on fire. "

"I don't believe in bein' sarcastic when people are tryin' to do thebest they can, " objected Hiram. He noted that the _Dobson_ was onceagain setting straight out to sea. She was butting her snub nosefuriously into swelling combers. The slaty bench of clouds had liftedinto the zenith. Scud trailed just over the swaying masts. The shoreline 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 seemedfavorable, he lashed the wheel, and with mighty puffing and grunting"inched" in the main-sheet. "She ought to have a double reef, " hemuttered. "But them petrified sons of secos couldn't take in a week'swash. "

"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 sayright now. " His sturdy legs were straddled, his brown hands clutchedthe spokes of the weather-worn wheel. "I'm runnin' this packet fromnow on, and it's without conversation. Understand? Don't you openyour yap. And you go for'ard and tell them steer calves that I'llkill the first one that steps foot aft the mainmast. "

There was that in the tones and in the skipper's mien of dignity ashe stood there, fronting and defying once again his ancient foe, theocean, which took out of Hiram all his courage to retort. And aftera time he went forward, dragging himself cautiously, to join thelittle group of misery huddled in the folds of the fallen canvas. 

"A cargo of fools to save!" growled Cap'n Sproul, his eyebrowsknotted in anxiety. "Myself among 'em! And they don't know what thematter is with 'em. We've struck the line gale--that's what we'vedone! Struck it with a choppin'-tray for a bo't and a mess ofrooty-baggy turnips for a crew! And there's only one hole to crawlout of. "

XXII

The wind had shifted when it settled into the blow--a fact that theCap'n's shipmates did not realize, and which he was too disgustedby their general inefficiency to explain to them. In his crippledcondition, in the gathering night, he figured that it would beimpossible for him to make Portland harbor, the only accessiblerefuge. The one chance was to ride it out, and this he set himselfto do, grimly silent, contemptuously reticent. He held her nose upto the open sea, allowing her only steerageway, the gale slitheringoff her flattened sail. 

The men who gazed on him from the waist saw in his resolution onlystubborn 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 hisfellows. "He won't stop at northin' when he's mad. Look what he'sdone in Smyrna. But I call this rubbin' it in a darn sight more'nhe'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, viewedfrom sailorman standpoint. But if Cap Sproul wa'n't plumb crazy andoff'm his nut them times we offered him honors in our town, and ifhe 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, " saidMurray, finning feeble hand to starboard, "ain't what Dan'l Websterwould do, with his intellect, if he was here. "

Hiram Look sat among them without speaking, his eyes on his friendoutlined against the gloom at the wheel. One after the other themiserable members of the Ancients and Honorables appealed to him foraid and counsel. 

"Boys, " he said at last, "I've been figgerin' that he's just madder'nblazes at what you done to the sails, and that as soon's he workshis mad off he'll turn tail. Judgin' from what he said to me, it ain'tsafe to tackle him right away. It will only keep him mad. Hold tightfor a little while and let's see what he'll do when he cools. Andif 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 crouchedthere 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 withinthem as were their stomachs. 

In that sea and that wind the progress of the _Dobson_ was, as theCap'n mentally put it, a "sashay. " There was way enough on her tohold her into the wind, but the waves and the tides lugged her slowlysideways and backward. And yet, with their present sea-room Cap'nSproul 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 appealfrom his men. 

"I say, Cap'n, " he gasped, "you and I have been too good friends tohave 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'tstoppin' you. " He still scorned to explain to the meddlesomelandsman. 

"I can carry a grudge myself, " blustered Hiram. "But I finally stopto 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 youthink this is--one of your circus wagons with a span of hosses hitchedin front of it? I told you once before that I didn't want to bebothered with conversation. I tell you so ag'in. I've got things onmy mind that you don't know anything about, and that you ain't gotintellect enough to understand. Now, you shut up or I'll kick youoverboard for a mutineer. "

At the end of half an hour of silence--bitter, sufferingsilence--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 ourchance to get ashore. " He had crept close to the skipper. 

"I s'pose you feel like puttin' on that piazzy hat of yourn andgrabbin' 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 firedepartment. "

"Do you mean to tell me that you ain't agoin' to land when there'sdry ground right over there, with people signallin' and waitin' tohelp you?" demanded the showman, his temper whetted by his fright. 

The Cap'n esteemed the question too senseless to admit any replyexcept a scornful oath. He at the wheel, studying drift and wind, had pretty clear conception of their whereabouts. The scraggly ridgedimly outlined by the fire on shore could hardly be other than CodLead, where Colonel Gideon Ward and Eleazar Bodge were languishing. It was probable that those marooned gentlemen had lighted a fire intheir desperation in order to signal for assistance. The Cap'nreflected that it was about as much wit as landsmen would possess. 

To Hiram's panicky mind this situation seemed to call for one lineof action. They were skippered by a madman or a brute, he could notfigure which. At any rate, it seemed time to interfere. 

He crawled back again to the huddled group of the Ancients andenlisted Ludelphus Murray, as biggest and least incapacitated byseasickness. 

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 anespecially vigorous engagement of some minutes, slammed and boltedthe doors and shot the hatch. They heard him beating about withinand raging horribly, but Murray doubled himself over, his kneesagainst 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 onhands and knees toward the wheel, and escaped, also. When the littleschooner took the bit in her teeth she promptly eliminated thequestion of seamanship. It was as though she realized that themaster-hand was paralyzed. She shook the rotten sail out of thebolt-ropes with a bang, righted and went sluggishly rolling towardthe 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 tobe progressin' all favorable. "

Up to this time one passenger on the schooner appeared to be takingcalm or tempest with the same equanimity. This passenger was Imogene, couched at the break of the little poop. But the cracking report ofthe bursting sail, and now the dreadful clamor of the imprisonedCap'n Sproul, stirred her fears. She raised her trunk and trumpetedwith bellowings that shamed the blast. 

"Let him up now, 'Delphus!" shouted Hiram, after twirling the wheelvainly and finding that the _Dobson_ heeded it not. "If there ain'tno sails up he can't take us out to sea. Let him up before he givesImogene 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 spunthe useless wheel. 

"You whelps of perdition!" he shrieked. "Lifts cut, mains'l blowedout, 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' youthem names. You--"

"Well, if we are any crazier for wantin' to go ashore where we belongthan you was for settin' out to cross the Atlantic Ocean in a nightlike this, I'd like to have it stated why, " declared Hiram. 

"Don't you know enough to understand that I was tryin' to save yourlives 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 theother of being responsible for their present plight. "The place forus 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 withthe dizzy notion that this saved him from clutching some one'sthroat. 

"You'd better begin to pray, you fellers, " he cried at last, witha quaver in his tones. "We're goin' smash-ti-belter onto them rocks, and Davy Jones is settin' on extra plates for eight at breakfastto-morrer mornin'. Do your prayin' now. "

"The only Scripture that occurs to me just now, " said Hiram, in ahush of the gale, "is that 'God tempers the wind to the shorn lamb. '"

That was veritably a Delphic utterance at that moment, had Hiram onlyknown it. 

Some one has suggested that there is a providence that watches overchildren and fools. It is certain that chance does play strangeantics. Men have fallen from balloons and lived. Other men haveslipped on a banana skin and died. Men have fought to save themselvesfrom destruction, and have been destroyed. Other men have resignedthemselves and have won out triumphantly. 

The doomed _Dobson_ was swashing toward the roaring shore broadsideon. The first ledge would roll her bottom up, beating in her punkybreast at the same time. This was the programme the doleful skipperhad pictured in his mind. There was no way of winning a chance throughthe rocks, such as there might have been with steerageway, a tenuouschance, and yet a chance. But the Cap'n decided with apathy andresignation to fate that one man could not raise a sail out of thatwreck forward and at the same time heave her up to a course for thesake of that chance. 

As to Imogene he had not reckoned. 

Perhaps that faithful pachyderm decided to die with her masterembraced in her trunk. Perhaps she decided that the quarter-deck wasfarther above water than the waist. 

At any rate, curving back her trunk and "roomping" out theperturbation of her spirit, she reared on her hind-legs, boostedherself upon the roof of the house, and clawed aft. Thisauto-shifting of cargo lifted the bow of the little schooner. Herjibs, 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, andshe danced gayly between them, the wind tugging her along by herfar-flung jibs. 

In matter of wrecks, it is the outer rocks that smash; it is the teethof these ledges that tear timbers and macerate men. The stragglingremains are found later in the sandy cove. 

But with Imogene as unwitting master mariner in the crisis, theschooner dodged the danger of the ledges by the skin of her barnacledbottom, spun frothing up the cove in the yeast of the waves, bumpedhalf a dozen times as though searching suitable spot forself-immolation, and at last, finding a bed of white sand, flattenedherself upon it with a racket of demolition--the squall of drawingspikes her death-wail, the boom of water under her bursting deck hergrunt of dissolution. 

The compelling impulse that drives men to close personal contact intimes of danger had assembled all the crew of the schooner upon thepoop, the distracted Imogene in the centre. She wore the trappingsof servitude--the rude harness in which she had labored to draw upthe buckets of dirt on Cod Lead, the straps to which the tackle hadbeen fastened to hoist her on board the _Dobson_. 

When the deck went out from under them, the elephant was the biggestthing left in reach. 

And as she went sturdily swimming off, trunk elevated above thesurges, the desperate crew of the _Dobson_ grabbed at straps anddangling traces and went, too, towing behind her. Imogene could reachthe air with the end of her uplifted trunk. The men submerged at herside gasped and strangled, but clung with the death-grip of drowningmen; and when at last she found bottom and dragged herself up thebeach with the waves beating at her, she carried them all, salvagedfrom the sea in a fashion so marvellous that Cap'n Aaron Sproul, firston his legs, had no voice left with which to express his sentiments. 

He staggered around to the front of the panting animal and solemnlyseized her trunk and waggled it in earnest hand-shake. 

"You're a dumb animile, " he muttered, "and you prob'ly can't haveany 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'tseem 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 firstcome 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'na pie-plate. "

He turned and bent a disgusted stare on the gasping men dimly outlinedin the gloom. 

"I'd throw you back again, " he snapped, "if it wa'n't for givin' theAtlantic 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 ofthe fire-flare on the higher land of the island. 

Of that muddled company, he was the only one who had the leastknowledge of their whereabouts or guessed that those responsible forthe signal-fire were Colonel Gideon Ward and Eleazar Bodge. Hefollowed behind, steeling his soul to meet those victims of thecomplicated plot. An astonished bleat from Hiram Look, who led thecolumn, announced them. Colonel Ward was doubled before the fire, his long arms embracing his thin knees. Eleazar Bodge had justbrought a fresh armful of driftwood to heap on the blaze. 

"We thought it would bring help to us, " cried the Colonel, who couldnot see clearly through the smoke. "We've been left here by a setof thieves and murderers. " He unfolded himself and stood up. "Youget me in reach of a telegraph-office before nine o'clock to-morrowand I'll make it worth your while. "

"By the long-horned heifers of Hebron!" bawled Hiram. "We've comeback to just the place we started from! If you built that fire totole 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'llhave the whole of you put there for bunco-men. You've stolen fifteenthousand dollars from me. Where is that old hell-hound that's gotmy check?"

"Here are six square and responsible citizens of Smyrna that heardyou make your proposition and saw you pass that check, " declaredHiram, stoutly, awake thoroughly, now that his prized plot wasmenaced. "It was a trade. "

"It was a steal!" The Colonel caught sight of Cap'n Sproul on theoutskirts of the group. "You cash that check and I'll have you behindbars. I've stopped payment on it. "

"Did ye telegraft or ride to the bank on a bicycle?" inquired theCap'n, satirically. He came straight up to the fire, pushing thefurious Colonel to one side as he passed him. Angry as Ward was, hedid not dare to resist or attack this grim man who thus came uponhim, dripping, from the sea. 

"Keep out of the way of gentlemen who want to dry themselves, " gruntedthe skipper, and he calmly took possession of the fire, beckoninghis crew to follow him. The Colonel and Mr. Bodge were shut out fromthe cheering blaze. 

The first thing Cap'n Sproul did, as he squatted down, was to pullout his wallet and inspect the precious check. 

"It's pretty wet, " he remarked, "but the ink ain't run any. A littledryin' out is all it needs. "

And with Ward shouting fearful imprecations at him over the headsof 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 besidethe 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 apparentlyoblivious of his presence. "Aaron, " he muttered, "there's been somethings between us to-night that I wish hadn't been. But I'mquick-tempered, and I ain't used to the sea, and what I done was onthe spur of the moment. But I've shown that I'm your friend, and I'lldo more to show--"

"Hiram, " broke in the Cap'n, and his tone was severe, "mutiny ain'teasy overlooked. But considerin' that your elephant has squaredthings for you, we'll let it stand as settled. But don't ever talkabout it. I'm havin' too hard work to control my feelin's. "

And then, looking up from the drying check, he fixed the vociferousColonel with flaming eyes. 

"Did ye hear me make a remark about my feelin's?" he rasped. "Yourbusiness and my business has been settled, and here's the paper toshow for it. " He slapped his hand across the check. "I didn't comeback here to talk it over. " He gulped down his wrathful memory ofthe reasons that had brought him. "You've bought Bodge. You've boughtCap Kidd's treasure, wherever it is. You're welcome to Bodge and tothe treasure. And, controllin' Bodge as you do, you'd better let himmake you up another fire off some little ways from this one, becausethis one ain't big enough for you and me both. " The Cap'n's tone wassignificant. There was stubborn menace there, also. After gazing fora time on Sproul's uncompromising face and on the check sotantalizingly displayed before the blaze, Colonel Ward turned andwent away. Ten minutes later a rival blaze mounted to the heavensfrom a distant part of Cod Lead Nubble. Half an hour later Mr. Bodgecame as an emissary. He brought the gage of battle and flung it downand departed instantly. 

"Colonel Ward says for me to say to you, " he announced, "that he'llbet a thousand dollars you don't dare to hand that check into anybank. "

"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 anddo it before he can get anywhere and stop payment. "

"It's a pretty fair gamble both ways, " remarked Hiram, his sportinginstincts awake. "You may know more about water and ways of gettin'acrost that, but if this wind holds up the old spider will spin outa 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 Bodgeto shut up, was equally thoughtful as he gazed into his fire. Ludelphus Murray, after trying long and in vain to light a soggypipeful of tobacco, gazed into the fire-lit faces of his comradesof 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 outand spend the rest of the fall with us. "

But the jest did not cheer the gloom of the marooned on Cod LeadNubble. 

XXIII

Cap'n Aaron Sproul had forgotten his troubles for a time. He had beendozing. The shrewish night wind of autumn whistled over the ledgesof Cod Lead Nubble and scattered upon his gray beard the black ashesfrom the bonfire that the shivering men of Smyrna still plied withfuel. 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 hisback and was snoring peacefully. He had the appearance of a corsair, with his head wrapped in the huge handkerchief that had replaced theplug hat lost in the stress and storm that had destroyed the _AurillaP. Dobson_. The elephant, Imogene, was bulked dimly in the first grayof a soppy dawn. 

"If this is goin' to sea, " said Jackson Denslow, continuing the sourmutterings of the night, "I'm glad I never saw salt water before Igot pulled into this trip. "

"It ain't goin' to sea, " remarked another of the Smyrna amateurmariners. "It's goin' ashore!" He waved a disconsolate gesturetoward the cove where the remains of the _Dobson_ swashed in thebreakers. 

"If any one ever gets me navigatin' again onto anything desp'ritterthan a stone-bo't on Smyrna bog, " said Denslow, "I hope my relativeswill have me put into a insane horsepittle. "

"Look at that!" shouted Ludelphus Murray. "This is a thunderationnice 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 fromhis knees. A rocket was streaking across the sky and popped with asprinkling of colored fires. Another and another followed withdesperate haste, and a Greek fire shed baleful light across thewaters. 

"Yes, sir, " repeated Murray, indignantly sarcastic, "it's a nicenight and a nice time of night to be celebratin' when other folksis 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 atthe 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 formaintainin' false beacons on a dangerous coast in a storm, then Imiss my cal'lations, that's all!"

"That shows the right spirit out there, " vouchsafed Hiram, his eyeskindling as another rocket slashed the sky. "Fireworks as soon asthey've located us is the right spirit, I say! The least we can dois 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, hisdisgust too deep for words. 

"Me--me, " he grunted, "in with a gang that can't tell the differencebetween a vessel goin' to pieces and a fireworks celebration! I don'twonder that the Atlantic Ocean tasted of us and spit us ashore. Shecouldn't stand it to drown us!"

When the others straggled down and gabbled questions at him herefused to reply, but stood peering into the lifting dawn. He gota glimpse of her rig before her masts went over. She was ahermaphrodite brig, and old-fashioned at that. She was old-fashionedenough to have a figure-head. It came ashore at Cap'n Sproul's feetas _avant-coureur_ of the rest of the wreckage. It led the processionbecause it was the first to suffer when the brig butted her noseagainst the Blue Cow Reef. It came ashore intact, a full-sized womancarved from pine and painted white. The Cap'n recognized the fatuoussmile 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 descrieda big yawl making off the coast. She rode lightly, and he could seeonly two heads above her gunwale. 

"That's Cap Hart Tate, all right, " mused the Cap'n; "Cap Hart Tategallantly engaged in winnin' a medal by savin' his own life. Butknowin' Cap Hart Tate as well as I do, I don't see how he ever sofar forgot himself as to take along any one else. It must be the firstmate, and the first mate must have had a gun as a letter ofrecommendation!"

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 hisbelief. Bobbing toward Cod Lead came an overloaded dingy. There weresix men in it, and they were making what shift they could to guideit into the cove between the outer rocks. They came riding throughsafely on a roller, splattered across the cove with wildly wavingoars, and landed on the sand with a bump that sent them tumbling heelsover head out of the little boat. 

"Four Portygee sailors, the cook, and the second mate, " elucidatedCap'n Sproul, oracularly, for his own information. 

The second mate, a squat and burly sea-dog, was first up on his feetin the white water, but stumbled over a struggling sailor who waskicking his heels in an attempt to rise. When the irate mate was upfor 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 rejoiceover 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 figureheadand 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 heavysea-boots, was more horribly profane as he hopped about with anaching toe in the clutch of both hands, and at last picked up agood-sized hunk of ledge and went at the smiling face with Berserkerrage. 

Cap'n Sproul had begun to frown at Butts's scornful slighting of hisamiable greeting. Now he ran forward, placed his broad boot againstthe second mate, and vigorously pushed him away from the prostratefigure. When Butts came up at him with the fragment of rock in hisgrasp, Cap'n Sproul faced him with alacrity, also with a piece ofrock. 

"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 witha rock. I ain't in no very gentle spirits to-day, neither. "

"I wasn't doin' northin' to you, " squealed Butts, his anger becomingmere querulous reproach, for the Cap'n's eye was fiery and Butts'smemory was good. 

"You was strikin' a female, " said Cap'n Sproul, with severity, andwhen the astonished Butts blazed indignant remonstrance, he insistedon his point with a stubbornness that allowed no compromise. "Itdon't make any difference even if it is only a painted figger. It'sshowin' 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' upfor the sex to the extent that I ain't seein' no insults handed toa woman--even if it ain't anything but an Injun maiden in front ofa 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 goneto pieces out yender, and it's the only thing I've got to get backon. Three months from Turk's Island, Cap'n Sproul, with a salt cargoand grub that would gag a dogfish! Lay down half a biskit and it wouldwalk off. All I've et for six weeks has been doughboys lolloped inPorty Reek. He kicked me when I complained. " Butts shook waveringfinger at the shred of sail in the distance. "He kept us off withthe gun to-day and sailed away in the yawl, and he never cared whutherwe ever got ashore or not. And the grin he give me when he done itwas jest like the grin on that thing there. " Again the perturbed Buttsshowed signs of a desire to assault the wooden incarnation of thespirit of the _Polyhymnia_. 

"A man who has been abused as much as you have been abused at seahas good reason to stand up for your rights when you are abused themoment you reach shore, " barked a harsh voice. Colonel Gideon Ward, backed by the faithful Eleazar Bodge, stood safely aloof on a hugebowlder, his gaunt frame outlined against the morning sky. "Are youthe commander of those men?" he inquired. 

"I'm second mate, " answered Mr. Butts. 

"You and your men are down there associatin' with the most pestilentset of robbers and land-pirates that ever disgraced a civilizedcountry, " announced the Colonel. "They robbed me of fifteen thousanddollars and left me marooned here on this desert island, but the windof 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 ifyou 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 groupabout 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 storythat will--"

Hiram Look thrust forward at this moment. The ex-showman was not areassuring personality to meet shipwrecked mariners. His bighandkerchief was knotted about his head in true buccaneer style. Thehorns of his huge mustache stuck out fiercely. Mr. Butts and his timidPortuguese shrank. 

"He's a whack-fired, jog-jiggered old sanup of a liar, " bellowed thisstartling apparition, who might have been Blackbeard himself. "Weonly have got back the fifteen thousand that he stole from us. "

These amazing figures dizzied Mr. Butts, and his face revealed hisfeelings. He blinked from one party to the other with swiftlycalculating gaze. Looking at the angry Hiram, he backed away twosteps. After staring at the unkempt members of the Smyrna firedepartment, ranged behind their foreman, he backed three steps more. And then reflecting that the man of the piratical countenance hadunblushingly confessed to the present possession of the disputedfortune, he clasped his hands to his own money-belt and hurried overto Colonel Ward's rock, his men scuttling behind him. 

"Don't you believe their lies, " bellowed the Colonel, breaking inon Hiram's eager explanations of the timber-land deal and the questof the treasure they had come to Cod Lead to unearth. "I'll take youright to the hole they sold to me, I'll show you the plank cover theymade believe was the lid of a treasure-chest, I'll prove to you theyare pirates. We've got to stand together. " He hastened to Mr. Buttsand linked his arm in the seaman's, drawing him away. "There's onlytwo of us. We can't hurt you. We don't want to hurt you. But if youstay among that bunch they'll have your liver, lights, and yourheart's blood. "

Five minutes later the Ward camp was posted on a distant pinnacleof the island. Cap'n Sproul had watched their retreat without a word, his brows knitted, his fists clutched at his side, and his wholeattitude representing earnest consideration of a problem. He shookhis head at Hiram's advice to pursue Mr. Butts and drag him and hismen away from the enemy. It occurred to him that the friendliest chasewould look like an attack. He reflected that he had not adoptedexactly the tactics that were likely to warm over the buried embersof friendship in Mr. Butts's bosom. He remembered through the mistsof the years that something like a kick or a belaying-pin had beenconnected with Mr. Butts's retirement from the _Benn_. 

And until he could straighten out in his mind just what that partingdifficulty had been, and how much his temper had triumphed over hisjustice to Butts, and until he had figured out a little somethingin the line of diplomatic conciliation, he decided to squat for atime beside his own fire and ruminate. 

For an hour he sat, his brow gloomy, and looked across to whereColonel Ward was talking to Butts, his arms revolving like the fansof a crazy windmill. 

"Lord! Cap'n Aaron, " blurted Hiram at last, "he's pumpin' lies intothat shipmate of yourn till even from this distance I can see himswellin' like a hop-toad under a mullein leaf. I tell you, you'vegot to do something. What if it should come calm and you ain't gothim talked over and they should take the boat and row over to themainland? 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 wellnever have got up that complicated plot to get even with the old sonof a seco. "

"Hiram, " said the Cap'n, after a moment's deliberation, the lasthours of the _Aurilla P. Dobson_ rankling still, "sence you and yourgang mutinied on me and made me let a chartered schooner go to smashI ain't had no especial confidence in your advice in crisises. I'veseen you hold your head level in crisises on shore--away from saltwater, but you don't fit in 'board ship. And this, here, comes nearenough to bein' 'board ship to cut you out. I don't take any morechances with you and the Smyrna fire department till I get inlandat 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'vetalked it over with the boys and they stand ready to lick those dagosand 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-dozencastaways poking among the rocks for mussels with which to stay theirhunger. 

"Me get in a boat again with that outfit? Why, I wouldn't ride acrosta duck pond in an ocean liner with 'em unless they were crated andbattened below hatches. " He smacked his hard fist into his palm. "There they straddle, like crows on new-ploughed land, huntin' forsomething 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 Prisonoffence last night when they mutinied and locked me into my own cabinlike a cat in a coop. Now I don't want to have any more trouble overit with you, Hiram, for we've been too good friends, and will tryto continner so after this thing is over and done with, but if youor that gang of up-country sparrer-hawks stick your fingers or yournoses into this business that I'm in now, I'll give the lobsters andcunners round this island just six good hearty meals. Now, that'sthe business end, and it's whittled pickid, and you want to let aloneof it!"

He struggled up and strode away across the little valley between thestronghold of Colonel Ward and his own hillock. 

Colonel Ward stood up when he saw him approaching, and Butts, aftergetting busy with something on the ground, stood up, also. When theCap'n got nearer he noted that Butts had his arms full of rocks. 

"Dunk, " called Cap'n Sproul, placatingly, pausing at a hostilemovement, "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 fairthat 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 broadsidethat will put your colors down. You've kicked me the last time you'reever 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. " Thenonce 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. "Talkto me of bein' seafarin' with that crowd of jays you've got roundyou! You ain't northin' but moss-backs and bunko-men. " Cap'n Sproulglanced over his shoulder at the men of Smyrna and groaned under hisbreath. "I never knowed a seafarin' man to grow to any good afterhe settled ashore. Havin' it in ye all the time, you've turned outa little worse than the others, that's all. "

Mr. Butts continued on in this strain of insult, having the advantageof position and ammunition and the mind to square old scores. Andafter 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 thatHiram Look gulped back the questions that were in his throat. Herecognized that it was a crisis, realized that Cap'n Sproul wasautocrat, and refrained from irritating speech. 

XXIV

By noon the sun shone on Cod Lead wanly between ragged clouds. Butits smile did not warm Cap'n Sproul's feelings. Weariness, rheumatism, resentment that became bitterer the more he pondered onthe loss of the _Dobson_, and gnawing hunger combined to make a singlesentiment of sullen fury; the spectacle of Colonel Ward busy withhis schemes on the neighboring pinnacle sharpened his anger intosomething like ferocity. 

The wind had died into fitful breaths. The sea still beat furiouslyon the outer ledges of the island, but in the reach between the islandand the distant main there was a living chance for a small boat. Itwas not a chance that unskilful rowers would want to venture upon, but given the right crew the Cap'n reflected that he would be willingto try it. 

Evidently Mr. Butts, being an able seaman, was reflecting uponsomething of the same sort. The Portuguese sailors, the last one ofthe departing four dodging a kick launched at him by Mr. Butts, wentdown to the shore, pulled the abandoned dingy upon the sand, andemptied the water out of it. They fished the oars out of the flotsamin the cove. Then they sat down on the upturned boat, manifestly underorders 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 besmashed 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 amongthe mussels. 

It was apparent that Mr. Butts had decided that he would feel moreat ease upon his pinnacle until the hour arrived for embarkation. In the game of stone-throwing, should Cap'n Sproul accept that gageof battle, the beach was too vulnerable a fortress, and, like aprudent commander, Mr. Butts had sent a forlorn hope onto thefiring-line to test conditions. This was all clear to Cap'n Sproul. As to Mr. Butts's exact intentions relative to the process of gettingsafely 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 knowPortygees. It takes a master mariner to know Portygees. It takesPortygees to know a master mariner. They know the language. They knowthe style. They get the idee by the way he looks at 'em. It's whathe says and the way he says it. Second mates ain't got it. P'r'apsI 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 brainsinto 'em as they've come over the side, one by one, and started 'emgoin' like I'd wind up a watch! And a belayin'-pin is the key!"

He arose with great decision, buttoned his jacket, cocked his capto an angle of authority on his gray hair, and started down the hilltoward the boat. 

"He's goin' to call in his bunko-men and take that boat, " bleatedMr. Butts to Colonel Ward. 

"Wild hosses couldn't drag him into a boat again with those humantoadstools, and I've heard him swear round here enough to know it, "scoffed the Colonel. "He's just goin' down to try to wheedle yoursailors like he tried to wheedle you, and they're your men and hecan't do it. "

And in the face of this authority and confidence in the situationMr. Butts subsided, thankful for an excuse to keep at a respectfuldistance from Cap'n Aaron Sproul. 

That doughty expert on "Portygees" strode past the awed crew withan air that they instinctively recognized as belonging to thequarter-deck. Their meek eyes followed him as he stumped into theswash and kicked up two belaying-pins floating in the debris. He tookone in each hand, came back at them on the trot, opening theflood-gates of his language. And they instinctively recognized thatas quarter-deck, too. They knew that no mere mate could possess thatquality of utterance and redundancy of speech. 

He had a name for each one as he hit him. It was a game of "Tag, you'reit!" that made him master, in that moment of amazement, from the meresuddenness of it. A man with less assurance and slighter knowledgeof sailorman character might have been less abrupt--might have giventhem a moment in which to reflect. Cap'n Aaron Sproul kept themgoing--did their thinking for them, dizzied their brains by thwacksof the pins, deafened their ears by his terrific language. 

In fifteen seconds they had run the dingy into the surf, had shippedoars, and were lustily pulling away--Cap'n Sproul in the sternroaring 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 surfwaist-deep and scrambled over the stern, nearly upsetting the Cap'nas he rolled in. 

And Imogene, the elephant, a faithful and adoring pachyderm, pursuedher lord and master into the sea. 

Cap'n Sproul, recovering his balance and resuming his interruptedinvective, was startled by the waving of her trunk above his head, and his rowers quit work, squealing with terror, for the huge beastwas making evident and desperate attempts to climb on board and joinher fleeing owner. It was a rather complicated crisis even for aseaman, accustomed to splitting seconds in his battling withemergencies. An elephant, unusual element in marine considerations, lent the complication. 

But the old sea-dog who had so instantly made himself master of mennow made himself master of the situation, before the anxious Imogenehad got so much as one big foot over the gunwale. He picked up thelate-arriving Jonah, and, in spite of Hiram's kicks and curses, jettisoned him with a splash that shot spray over the pursuingelephant and blinded her eyes. 

"Row--row, you blue-faced sons of Gehenna, or she'll eat all fourof you!" shrieked the Cap'n; and in that moment of stress they rowed!Rowed now not because Cap'n Sproul commanded--nor ceased from rowingbecause Mr. Butts countermanded. They rowed for their own lives toescape the ravening beast that had chased them into the sea. 

Cap'n Sproul, watching his chance, took a small wave after theseventh big roller, let it cuff his bow to starboard, and made forthe lee of Cod Lead, rounding the island into the reach. He was safelyaway and, gazing into the faces of the Portuguese, he grimlyreflected that for impressed men they seemed fully as glad to be awayas he. They rowed now without further monition, clucking, each tohimself, little prayers for their safe deliverance from the beast. 

It was not possible, with safety, to cut across the reach straightfor the main, so the Cap'n quartered his course before the wind andwent swinging down the seas, with little chance of coming soon toshore, but confident of his seamanship. 

But that seamanship was not sufficient to embolden him into anattempt to dodge a steamer with two masts and a dun funnel that camerolling 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 cutterof the revenue service; wind and sea forced him to keep on acrossher bows. 

She slowed her engines and swung to give him a lee. Cap'n Sproul sworeunder his breath, cursed aloud at his patient rowers, and told themto keep on. And when these astonishing tactics of a lonely dingy ina raging sea were observed from the bridge of the cutter, a red-nosedand 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 suchrecalcitrants. 

"What in billy-be-doosen and thunderation do you mean, youweevil-chawers, by not coming alongside when signalled--and us witha dozen wrecks to chase 'longshore?" he demanded, laying officioushand on the tossing gunwale of the dingy. 

"We're attendin' strictly to our own business, and the United StatesGovvument better take pattern and go along and mind its own, "retorted Cap'n Sproul, with so little of the spirit of gratitude thata shipwrecked mariner ought to display that the cutter officer glaredat him with deep suspicion. 

"What were you mixed up in--mutiny or barratry?" he growled. "We'llfind 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 ofthe boat into the life-craft--a dozen sturdy chaps assisting thetransfer. 

"Let the peapod go afloat, " directed the gruff officer. "It's offthe _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 youwere out for a pleasure sail! You shut up!" he snapped, checkingfurther complaints from the Cap'n. "If you've got a story that willfit in with your crazy-man actions, then you can wait and tell itto the court. As for me, I believe you're a gang of mutineers!" Andafter that bit of insolence the Cap'n was indignantly silent. 

The cutter jingled her full-speed bell while the tackle was stilllifting the sponson boat. 

"They're ugly, and are hiding something, " called the man of the fadedcap, swinging up the bridge-ladder. "No good to pump more lies outof them. We'll go where they came from, and we'll get there beforewe 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 skinsof 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 thatlugs it!"

But after hale second thought he put the check back into his walletand the wallet into his breast pocket and buttoned his coat securely. And the set of his jaws and the wrinkling of his forehead showed thatthe duel between him and Colonel Ward was not yet over. 

As the steamer with the dun smoke-stack approached Cod Lead he notedsourly the frantic signallings of the marooned. He leaned on the railand watched the departure of the officer of the faded blue cap withhis crew of the sponson boat. He observed the details of the animatedmeeting of the rescuers and the rescued. Without great astonishmenthe saw that Hiram, of all the others, remained on shore, leaningdisconsolately against the protecting bulk of Imogene. 

"It's most a wonder he didn't try to load that infernal elephant ontothat life-boat, " he muttered. "If I couldn't travel through lifewithout bein' tagged by an old gob of meat of that size, I'd hirea museum and settle down in it. "

Cap'n Sproul, still leaning on the rail, paid no attention to thesnort that Colonel Ward emitted as he passed on his way to thesecurity of the steamer's deck. He resolutely avoided thereproachful starings of the members of the Smyrna fire departmentas they struggled on board. Mr. Butts came last and attempted to saysomething, but retreated promptly before the Cap'n's fiendish snarland 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 menageriesaccompanied by dry-nurses, " stated the commander. "What is this joblot, anyway--a circus in distress?"

"Says the elephant can swim out if we'll rig a tackle and hoist heron board. Says elephant is used to it. "

Something in the loneliness of the deserted two on Cod Lead must haveappealed to the commander. He was profane about it, and talked aboutelephants and men who owned them in a way that struck an answeringchord in the Cap'n's breast. But he finally gave orders for theembarkation of Imogene, and after much more profanity and more slurswhich Hiram was obliged to listen to meekly, the task wasaccomplished, and the cutter proceeded on her way along coast onfurther errands of mercy. 

And then the Cap'n turned and gazed on Hiram, and the showman gazedon the Cap'n. The latter spoke first. 

"Hiram, " he said, "it ain't best for you and me to talk this thingover, just as it stands now--not till we get back to Smyrna and setdown on my front piazzy. P'r'aps things won't look so skeow-wowedthen to us as they do now. We won't talk till then. "

But the captain of the cutter was not as liberal-minded. In theprocess of preparing his report he attempted to interview both theCap'n and Colonel Ward at the same time in his cabin, and at the heightof the riot of recriminations that ensued was obliged to call in somedeck-hands and have both ejected. Then he listened to them separatelywith increasing interest. 

"When you brought this family fight down here to sprinkle salt wateron 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 wellenough to keep it from smelling. I don't reckon I'll stir it. Itdoesn't seem to be a marine disaster. The United States Governmenthas 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 plentyof chances to hear of Colonel Gideon Ward and his general dealingswith his neighbors. For myself, I'd rather have less money and areputation that didn't spread quite so far over the edges. As foryou, Cap'n Sproul, as a seaman I can sympathize with you about gettingcheated 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 youmake good to the extent of fifteen thousand dollars on a hole anda Cap Kidd treasure fake. Hands off for me, seeing that it's a matterstrictly in the family! This cutter is due to round to in Portlandharbor to-morrow morning a little after nine o'clock. I'll send thetwo of you in my gig to Commercial Wharf, see that both are landedat the same time, and then--well"--the commander turned quizzicalgaze from one to the other with full appreciation of thesituation--"it then depends on what you do, each of you, and how quickyou 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 ifhis hands itched to get at that pocket. 

At the first peep of dawn Cap'n Aaron Sproul was posted at thecutter's fore windlass, eyes straight ahead on the nick in the low, blue line of coast that marked the harbor's entrance. His air wasthat of a man whose anxiety could not tolerate any post except theforepeak. And to him there came Hiram Look with tremulous eagernessin 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 thefirst place and grab a telefoam, ' says Butts. 'Telefoam 'em at thebank to stop payment. It will take him ten minutes to run up fromthe wharf. Let him think you're right behind him. He's got to go tothe 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 isa 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 throwsit 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 jeerooslycold 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 windblowing acrost a bottle. Can't make a sound! The bank folks ain'tgoin' to take any one's say-so for him. Not against a man like youthat's got thutty thousand dollars in the same bank, and a man thatthey know! By the time he got it explained to any one so that they'dmix 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 hasbeen standin'. There ain't no reason why he can't get to that bankas 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 startis more'n most folks get in this life--and you've got that. The bossof this boat is goin' to give you that much. So all you can do isto take what's given you and do the best you can. And all I can dois 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 comfortthe hungry Imogene, who had been unable to find much in the cuisineof a revenue cutter that would satisfy the appetite of elephants. 

At half-past nine in the forenoon the cutter swept past Bug Lightand into the inner harbor. Hardly had the steamer swung with the tideat her anchorage before the captain's gig was proceeding brisklytoward Commercial Wharf, two men rowing and the man of the faded bluecap at the helm. The antagonists in the strange duello sat back toback, astraddle a seat. At this hateful contact their hair seemedfairly to bristle. 

"Now, gents, " said Faded Cap, as they approached the wharf, "theskipper said he wanted fair play. No scrougin' to get out onto theladder first. I'm goin' to land at the double ladder at the end ofthe wharf, and there's room for both of you. I'll say 'Now!' and thenyou start. "

"You fellers are gettin' a good deal of fun out this thing, " sputteredCap'n Sproul, angrily, "but don't you think I don't know it and resentit. 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'lleither 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 hisjaws and uttered a few croaks. 

When the gig surged to the foot of the ladder, Colonel Ward attempteda desperate play, and an unfair one. He was on the outside, and leapedup, stepped on Cap'n Sproul, and sprang for the ladder. The Cap'nwas quick enough to grab his legs, yank him back into the boat, andmount over him in his turn. The man of the faded cap was nearly stunnedby Ward falling on him, and the rowers lost their oars. 

When the Colonel had untangled himself from the indignant seamen andhad escaped up the ladder, Cap'n Sproul was pelting up the wharf ata most amazing clip, considering his short legs. Before Ward hadfairly gathered himself for the chase his fifteen-thousand-dollarcheck and the man bearing it had disappeared around a corner intothe street. 

But the squat and stubby old sailor stood little show in a foot-racewith his gaunt and sinewy adversary. It was undoubtedly ColonelWard's knowledge of this that now led him to make the race the testof 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 andpassed his adversary. Men running for trolley-cars and steamboatswere common enough on the busy thoroughfare, and people merely madeway for the sprinters. 

But when Colonel Ward was a few lengths ahead of the Cap'n, the lattermade use of an expedient that the voiceless Colonel could not haveemployed 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 firsthe had the pursuit all to himself, for bystanders merely ducked toone side. But earnest repetition compels attention, and attentionarouses interest, and interest provokes zeal. In a little while adozen men were chasing the Colonel, and when that gentleman wentlashing around the corner into Congress Street he--by an entirelynatural order of events--ran into a policeman, for the policeman wasrunning in the opposite direction to discover what all thatapproaching hullabaloo was about. 

Cap'n Sproul, prudently on the outskirts of the gathering crowd, noted with rising hope that the policeman and the Colonel wererolling over each other on the ground, and that even when officioushands had separated them the facial contortions of the voicelesstyrant of Smyrna were not making any favorable impression on theoffended bluecoat. 

Cap'n Sproul started away for the bank at a trot. But he began towalk when he heard the policeman shout: "Aw, there's enough of ye'rmoonkey faces at me. Yez will coome along to th' station, and talkit on yer fingers to th' marshal!"

At the bank door the Cap'n halted, wiped his face, composed hisfeatures, set on his cap at an entirely self-possessed angle, andthen 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 hisperils and his toils he wanted to feel that cash--to realize thathe had actually cashed in that hateful check. 

"I'll take the real plasters, " he said, huskily; "big ones as you'vegot. I--I want to pay for some vessel property!" He reflected thatthe few hundreds that the loss of the ancient _Dobson_ called forlifted this statement out of the cheap level of prevarication. 

When he hurried out of the bank with various thick packets stowedabout 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-pencilthat had been shoved into his grasp, and trying to compose his soulsufficiently to write out some of the information about himself, withwhich 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 andpositiveness in his manner that did not fail to impress the marshal. "He is my brother-in-law, he is Colonel Gideon Ward, of Smyrna, aman with more'n a hundred thousand dollars, and any one that accuseshim 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 appreciatethe cryptic humor of that remark!

The Cap'n avoided the demoniacal gaze that Ward bent on him anddisregarded the workings of that speechless mouth. Sproul shoved hishand deep into his trousers pocket and pulled out a roll of billson which the teller's tape had not been broken. At this sight theColonel staggered to his feet. 

"Here!" cried the Cap'n, shoving money into the hand of the officerwho had made the arrest. "There's something to pay for your muddyclothes. Now you'd better go out and find the man that started allthis touse about a leadin' citizen. I'll sue this city as a relativeof his if you don't let him go this minute. "

And they let him go, with an apology that Colonel Ward treated withperfectly insulting contempt. 

Cap'n Sproul faced him on the street outside the prison, standingprudently at guard, for he perfectly realized that just at thatmoment Colonel Gideon Ward had all the attributes of a lunatic. 

"You can see it bulgin' all over me, " said the Cap'n, "all tied upin bundles. I don't say my way was the best way to get it. But I'vegot it. I suppose I might have gone to law to get it, but that ain'tmy way. Of course you can go to law to get it back; but for reasonsthat you know just as well as I, I'd advise you not to--and that advicedon't cost you a cent. "

For a full minute Colonel Ward stood before him and writhed his gauntform and twisted his blue lips and waggled his bony jaws. But nota sound could he utter. Then he whirled and signalled a trolley-carand climbed on board. With intense satisfaction the Cap'n noted thatthe car was marked "Union Station. "

"Well, home is the best place for him, " muttered the Cap'n; "homeand a flaxseed poultice on his chist and complete rest of mind andbody. Now I'll settle for that schooner, hunt up Hime Look and thatpertickler and admirin' friend of his, that infernal elephant, andthen I reckon I'll--eraow-w-w!" he yawned. "I'll go home and restup a little, too. "

That repose was not disturbed by Colonel Gideon Ward. The Colonelhad decided that affairs in his timber tracts needed his attentionduring 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 inwhich was interred the first Mrs. Reeves; monument a belated arrival. 

2. The announcement was made that Batson Reeves had at last caughta new wife in the person of Widow Delora Crymble, wedding set forTuesday week. 

3. Dependence Crymble, deceased husband of Delora, reappeared onearth. This latter event to be further elaborated. 

Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman of Smyrna, on his way from hishome to the town office, found several men leaning on the graveyardfence, gazing over into the hallowed precincts of the dead withentire lack of that solemnity that is supposed to be attached tograveyards. It was on the morning following the last stroke of workon the Reeves monument. 

The Reeves monument, a wholly unique affair, consisted of alife-sized granite figure of Mr. Reeves standing on a granitepedestal in the conventional attitude of a man having his photographtaken. 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 veryexalted opinion of Mr. Reeves during life, left a portion of her ownestate in the hands of trustees in order that this sentinel figureshould stand guard above her in the sunshine and the rain. The ideawas poetic. But Cap'n Sproul, joining the hilarious group at thegraveyard fence, noted that some gruesome village humorist hadseriously interfered with the poetic idea. Painted on a planed boardset 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 marriedto 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, " hegrunted, his heart full of righteous bitterness against a proclaimedenemy, "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. Thenwith 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 barrelstove. 

One strip he whittled savagely into shavings and the other he brokeinto fagots, and when the fire was snapping merrily in the rusty stovehe resumed a labor upon which he had been intent for several days. Predecessors in office had called it "writing the town report. " Cap'nSproul called it "loggin' the year's run. "

A pen never did hang easy in the old shipmaster's stiff fingers. Themental travail of this unwonted literary effort wrung his brain. Anepic poet struggling with his masterpiece could not have been morerapt. And his nerves were correspondingly touchy. Constable ZebureeNute, emerging at a brisk trot from the town office, had a warningword of counsel for all those intending to venture upon the firstselectman's privacy. He delivered it at Broadway's store. 

"Talk about your r'yal Peeruvian tigers with eighteen rings on theirtails! He's settin' there with his hair standin' straight up and inkon his nose and clear to his elbows, and he didn't let me even getstarted in conversation. He up and throwed three ledger-books andfive 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 acertain tall, thin man; for the tall, thin man stalked straightthrough the village and up to the door inscribed "Selectman'sOffice. " In his hand he carried a little valise about as large asa loaf of yeast bread. The shrewish December wind snapped trousersabout legs like broom-handles. Black pads were hugged to his earsby a steel strip that curved behind his head, and he wore a hard hatthat 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 ashaving edge on the stranger's visage, but added promptly when hesaw him disappear into the town office that some one could probablyget a job within the next five minutes honing the nicks out of thatedge. 

Cap'n Sproul was just then absorbed in a task that he hated even worsethan literary composition. He was adding figures. They were the itemsfor road bills, and there were at least two yards of them on sheetsof paper pasted together, for nearly every voter in town wasrepresented. The Cap'n was half-way up one of the columns, and wasexercising all his mental grip to hold on to the slowly increasingtotal on which he was laboriously piling units. 

"I am always glad to meet a man who loves figgers, " remarked thestranger, solemnly. He set his valise on the table and leaned overthe Cap'n's shoulder. "I have wonderful faculty for figgers. Giveme a number and I'll tell you the cube of it instantly, in the snapof a finger. "

Cap'n Sproul merely ground his teeth and shoved his nose closer tothe paper. He did not dare to look up. His whole soul was centredin 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 ofcommission, but with a gulp and after a mental stagger he marchedon. 

"Now give me figgers--tens or hundreds, " pleaded the stranger. "I'llgive you the cube in one second--the snap of a finger. Since I seeyou hesitate, we'll take sixteen--a very simple factor. Cube it!"He clacked a bony finger into an osseous palm and cried: "Fourthousand and ninety-six!"

That did it!

"Ninety-six, " repeated the Cap'n, dizzily; realizing that he hadbounced off the track, he rose, kicked his chair out from under himand shoved a livid and infuriated visage into the thin man's face. 

"Whang-jacket your gor-righteously imperdence!" he bellowed, "whatdo you mean by stickin' that fish-hawk beak of your'n into my businessand make me lose count? Get to Tophet out of here!"

The stranger calmly removed his ear-pads and gazed on the furiousselectman 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 thatpoint the first time I died. The--"

Cap'n Sproul, without especial attention to this astonishingannouncement, was provoked beyond control by this stranger'scontemptuous stare. He grabbed up an ash-stick that served him fora stove-poker. 

"Get out of here, " he repeated, "or I'll peg you down through thisfloor like a spike!"

But the thin man simply gazed at him mournfully and sat down. 

"Havin' been killed three times--three times--dead by violentmeans, " he said, "I have no fear of death. Strike me--I shall notresist. "

Even a bashi-bazouk must have quailed before that amazingdeclaration and that patient resignation to fate. Cap'n Sproullooked him up and down for many minutes and then tucked the smuttyash-stick under the stove. 

"Well, what insane horsepittle did you get out of by crawlin' throughthe keyhole?" he demanded. 

"Oh, I am not insane, " remonstrated the thin man. "It is always easyfor fools in this world to blat that insult when a man announcessomething that they don't understand. A man that knows enough to beselectman 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 frozento death. " He pulled up his trousers and showed a shank as shrunkenas a peg-leg. "All the meat came off. The second time I died, a hosskicked me on the head. The third time, a tree fell on me. And thereis no hell--there is no heaven. If there had been I'd have gone toone 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 thefirst selectman broke in savagely: "Now look here, mister, this ain'teither a morgue, a receivin'-tomb, nor an undertaker's parlor. Ifyou 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' yourbirth-notice put into the newspaper. But you want to say what youdo want and get out of here. I've got some town business to 'tendto, 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'tdisputin' a thing you say, " he cried. "I'm admittin' everything, 'cause I haven't got time to argue. You may have been dead nine timeslike a cat. I don't care. All is, you go along. You'll findaccommodations 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, thethin 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 isput before you. I've come here on town business. I used to live inthis town. "

"Was you buried here or was your remains taken away?" inquired theCap'n, genially, hoping that satire might drive out this unwelcomedisturber. 

"Oh, I died all three times after I left this town, " said the thinman, in matter-of-fact tones. "What I'm comin' at is this: my fathergave the land to this town to build the school-house on out in theCrymble district. Deed said if the building was ever abandoned forschool purposes for five years running, land and buildin' came backto estate. I came past that school-house to-day and I see it hasn'tbeen used. "

"We don't have school deestricks any more, " explained the Cap'n. "Wetransport scholars to the village here. That's been done for sixyears 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'mgoin' to settle down. And that school-house is the only real estateI'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. "Myfather was Hope-for-grace Crymble. Odd names, eh? But the Crymbleswere 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'none name like Dependence Crymble in this world. I ain't a native hereand I don't know you from Adam. But is your wife the Widow DeloraCrymble--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, andI married Delora Goff. I've been away from here twenty years, butI guess the old residents will recognize me, all right. "

"But, " declared the Cap'n, floundering for a mental footing, "it'salways been said to me that Dependence Crymble died off--awaysomewhere. "

"I've already told you I died, " said the thin man, still mild butfirm. "That's right, just as you've heard it. "

"There's a stone in the graveyard to you, " went on the Cap'n, clawinghis stubby fingers into his bristle of hair, "and they've alwayscalled her 'Widder Crymble' and"--he stood up again and leanedforward over the table in the attitude of Jove about to launch athunderbolt and gasped--"she's goin' to get married to Bat Reeves, Tuesday of next week--and he's the most infernal scalawag in thistown, and he's took her after he's tried about every other old maidand widder that's got property. "

The thin man did not even wince or look astonished. His querulousmouth only dropped lower at the corners. 

"I don't care who marries her. She's a widder and can marry any oneshe's got a mind to. I didn't come back here to mix in. She's welcometo the property I left her. There was a will. It's hers. I've beenadministered on according to law. All I want is that school-houseback 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 andwanted to stay dead and leave a widder and property and let her getmarried again, and all that--what in the name of the yaller-belliedskate-fish have ye come ghostin' round here for to tip everythingupside down and galley-west after it's been administered on andsettled? 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 sighsfor its native heath. ' That's the sentiment side of it. But there'sa practical side. There's the school-house. It was worth passing thisway to find out whether the town had abandoned it--and I reckonedit had, and I reckoned right. I have presentiments that come true. I reckoned that probably the relict would put a stone in the graveyardfor me. I have a presentiment that I shall die twice more, stayingdead the fifth time I pass away. That will be here in this town, andthe gravestone won't be wasted. "

While the first selectman was still trying to digest this, the thinman opened his valise. He took out a nickel plate that bore his name. 

"This is my casket-plate, " he explained, forcing the grisly objectinto the resisting hands of the Cap'n. "Friends ordered it for methe 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 lookat that and hum a pennyr'yal hymn! It's sartinly a rollickin' lifeyou're leadin', Mister Crymble. "

Mr. Crymble did not retort. On the contrary he asked, mildly, gazingon the scattered sheets of paper containing the selectman's effortsat town-report composition, "Do you write poetry, sir?"

"Not by a--by a--" gasped the Cap'n, seeking ineffectually for somephrase to express his ineffable disgust. 

"I was in hopes you did, " continued Mr. Crymble, "for I would likea little help in finishing my epitaph. I compose slowly. I have workedseveral 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 likeboasting. "

"End it up, 'And still he lies, '" growled Cap'n Sproul. But the thinman meekly evaded the sarcasm. 

"That would be a repetition of the rhyme, " he objected. "I see youwere 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 thefirst selectman of this town, and I've got considerable to do withrunnin' it and keepin' things straightened out. You may be dead, butyou ain't buried yet. I've got two errunts for you. You go hunt upBat 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 thatthere are nine others just as good but which you haven't got timeto repeat. Then you go home to your wife and settle down, throw awaythat 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. "Ilived fifteen years with a woman that wouldn't let me smoke, bustedmy cider jug in the cellar, jawed me from sun-up till bedtime, hidmy best clothes away from me like I was ten years old, wouldn't letme pipe water from the spring, and stuck a jeroosly water-pail undermy nose every time I showed in sight of the house. I haven't diedthree times, all by violent means, not to stay dead so far's she'sconcerned. Now you tell me where to get the key to that school-houseand I'll move in. "

For the first time in their conversation Mr. Crymble dropped his meekmanner. His little eyes blazed. His drooping mouth snarled and hisyellow teeth showed defiantly. Cap'n Sproul always welcomed defiance. It was the thin man's passive resignation at the beginning of theiracquaintance that caused the Cap'n to poke the ash-stick back underthe 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, " heannounced, 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 upand 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 beengallivantin' off for twenty years?"

And detecting further recalcitrancy in the face of his visitor, hepounced on him, scrabbled up a handful of cloth in the back of hiscoat, and propelled him out of doors and up the street. After a fewprotesting 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 tothe 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 thethrust 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 paceand swung into the yard at a dog-trot. Batson Reeves was justblanketing his horse, for in his vigorous courtship forenoon callsfigured regularly. 

"My Gawd!" he gulped, fronting the Cap'n and staring at his captivewith 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 spiteand bust my plans. "

"He didn't happen to be anchored, " retorted the Cap'n, with cuttingreference to the granite statue in Smyrna's cemetery. "Ahoy, thehouse, there!"

Mrs. Crymble had been hastening to the door, the sound of her suitor'swagon-wheels summoning her. A glimpse of the tall figure in the yard, secured past the leaves of the window geraniums, brought her out onthe run. 

Mrs. Delora Crymble, whose natural stock of self-reliance had beenlargely improved by twenty years of grass-widowhood, was not easilyunnerved. 

But she staggered when searching scrutiny confirmed the dreadfulsuspicion of that first glimpse through the geraniums. Forprecaution's sake Cap'n Sproul still held Mr. Crymble by thescrabbled cloth in the back of his coat, and that despairingindividual dangled like a manikin. But he braced his thin legsstubbornly 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 thefestivities. Say, you two people, why don't you hoorah a few timesand rush up and hug and kiss and live happy ever after?"

But as soon as Mrs. Crymble could get her thin lips nipped togetherand her hands on her hips she pulled herself into her accustomedself-reliant poise. 

"It's you, is it, you straddled-legged, whittled-to-a-pick-ednorthin' of a clothes-pin, you? You've sneaked back to sponge on mein your old age after runnin' off and leavin' me with a run-down farmand mortgidge! After sendin' me a marked copy of a paper with yourdeath-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 thegraveyard 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'vepaid off the mortgidge on this place by hard, bone labor, and it'swilled to me and the will's executed, and now that you've been proveddead by law, by swanny I'll make you prove you're alive by law beforeyou can set foot into this house. "

"And I'll go and buy the law for you!" cried Batson Reeves, strippingthe blanket off his horse. "I'll drive straight to my brotherAlcander'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. "Andif he don't find it ready-made he'll gum together a hunk to fit thecase. But in the mean time, here's a man--" he checked himself andswung Mr. Crymble's hatchet face close to his own. "How much moneyhave you got?" he demanded. "Have you come back here strapped?"

"I ain't got any money, " admitted Mr. Crymble, "but I own a secrethow to cure stutterin' in ten lessons, and with that school-housethat--"

"You don't dock in any school-house nor you don't marine railway intoour poorhouse, not to be a bill of expense whilst I'm firstselectman, " 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 businessof every one in this town because you're first selectman, " roaredReeves, whipping out of the yard; "but I'll get a pair of nippersonto that old nose this time. "

"Here's your home till further orders, " said the Cap'n, disregardingthe 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 wasat the threshold just in time to shove the broad toe of his bootbetween door and jamb. His elbows and shoulders did the rest, andhe backed in, dragging Mr. Crymble, and paid no attention whateverto a half-dozen vigorous cuffs that Mrs. Crymble dealt him frombehind. He doubled Mr. Crymble unceremoniously into a calico-coveredrocking-chair, whipped off the hard hat and hung it up, and took fromMr. Crymble's resisting hands the little valise that he had clungto with grim resolution. 

"Now, said Cap'n Sproul, you are back once more in your happy homeafter wanderin's in strange lands. As first selectman of this townI congratulate you on gettin' home, and extend the compliments ofthe season. " He briskly shook Mr. Crymble's limp hand--a palm asunresponsive 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 haveyou arrested for a tramp. You ain't northin' else, when it comes tolaw. I'm a hard man when I'm madded, Crymble, and if I start in tokeelhaul you for disobeyin' orders you'll--" The Cap'n did notcomplete the sentence, but he bent such a look on the man in the chairthat he trembled through all his frail length. 

"I wisht I could have stayed dead, " whimpered Mr. Crymble, thoroughlyspirit-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 thatpaupers ain't poked off onto the taxpayers. And if you want to keepout of some pretty serious legal trouble, Mis' Crymble, you'll mindyour 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'nSproul chose to make his directions vague and his facial expressionunmistakable, and he backed out, bending impartial and baleful stareon 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 againstthe door for a barricade, and fell to undisturbed work on the figures. And having made such progress during the day that his mind was freefor other matters in the evening, he trudged over to Neighbor HiramLook's to smoke with the ex-showman and detail to that wonderinglistener 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 wasthe 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 himget that Crymble woman. If she ain't blood kin to the general managerof Tophet, then I'm all off in pedigree, I don't blame Crymble fordyin' three times to make sure that she was a widder. If it wasn'tfor administerin' town business right I'd have got him a spider-weband let him sail away on it. As it is, I reckon I've scared him abouttwenty-four hours' worth. He'll stick there in torment for near thattime. But about noon to-morrow he'll get away unless I scare him againor ball-and-chain him with a thread and a buckshot. "

"I'm interested in freaks, " said Hiram, "and I'll take this case offyour hands and see that the livin' skeleton don't get away until wedecide to bury him or put him in a show where he can earn an honestlivin'. Skeletons ain't what they used to be for a drawin'-card, butI 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 thewhole town will be watchin' to see which gets the upper hands. "

"I'll camp there, " promised Hiram, "and I don't reckon they can doold 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 disregardedordinary summons at the portal. But along in the afternoon came onewho, after knocking vainly, began to batter with fists and feet, andwhen the first selectman finally tore open the door with fulldetermination to kick this persistent disturber off the steps, hefound Hiram Look there. And Hiram Look came in and thumped himselfinto 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 warmthem. It was plain that he had been long exposed to the December wind. 

"Law, " announced Hiram, "has got more wrinkles in it than there arein a fake mermaid's tail. Do you know what kind of a game they'vegone 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 wasalways strong on keepin' him doin' chores. He's peckin' away at thatpile of wood that's fitted and lays at the corner of the barn. He'sluggin' it into the woodshed, and three sticks at a time make hislegs bend like corset whalebones. Looks like he's got a good stiddyjob for all winter--and every once in a while she comes out and yapsat him to prod him up. "

"Well, that gets him taken care of, all right, " said the Cap'n, witha sigh of relief. 

"Yes, he's taken care of, " remarked Hiram, dryly. "But you don'tunderstand the thing yet, Cap'n. On top of that woodpile sets BatReeves, lappin' the end of a lead-pencil and markin' down every timeold 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 theshowman, sarcastically. "Well, you just listen to what I've dug upabout that. Bat Reeves has bought the strip of ground between thewoodpile and the shed door by some kind of a deal he's rigged up withthe widder, and with Alcander Reeves advisin' as counsel. And he'sgot a stake set in the middle of that piece of ground and on thatstake is a board and on that board is painted: 'Trespassing Forbiddenon Penalty of the Law. ' And him and that woman, by Alcander Reeves'sadvice, are teaming that old cuss of a husband back and forth acrostthat strip and markin' down a trespass offence every time he lugsan armful of wood. "

The Cap'n blinked his growing amazement. 

"And the scheme is, " continued Hiram, "to have old law shark of anAlcander, as trial justice, sentence the livin' skeleton on eachseparate trespass offence, fine and imprisonment in default ofpayment. Why, they've got enough chalked down against him now to makeup a hundred years' sentence, and he's travellin' back and forththere as innercent of what they're tryin' to do as is the babeunborn. "

"Can they do any such infernal thing as that in law?" demanded theCap'n. 

"Blamed if I know. But I never see northin' yet they couldn't do inlaw, 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 tiein a harpoon-line. There ain't no justice in it--only pickin's andstealin's. Why, I had a mate once that was downed on T wharf in Bos'nand robbed, and they caught the men, and the mate couldn't givewitness bonds and they locked him up with 'em, and the men got awayone night and wa'n't ever caught, and the result was the mate serveda jail sentence before they got his bonds matter fixed. It was justthe 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--youneedn'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 atthe door. And with Hiram as charioteer they made time toward theCrymble place. Just out of the village they swept past ConstableZeburee Nute, whose slower Dobbin respectfully took the side of thehighway. 

"Bet ye money to mushmelons, " mumbled Hiram as they passed, "he'sgot 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 oldtin 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 passingwraithlike to and fro across the yard. 

"Thirty days per sashay!" grunted Hiram. "That's the way they figgerit. "

Batson Reeves would have scrambled down from the top of the woodpilewhen he saw Cap'n Sproul halt Crymble in his weary labor and drawhim to one side. But Hiram suggested to Mr. Reeves that he betterstay up, and emphasized the suggestion by clutching a stick ofstove-wood in each hand. 

"Crymble, " huskily whispered the Cap'n, "I put ye here out of a goodmeanin'--meanin' to keep ye out of trouble. But I'm afraid I've gotye 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 ofNute's Dobbin heaving into sight around distant alders. "All is, youneedn't stay where I put ye. "

Mr. Crymble promptly dropped the three sticks of wood that he wascarrying. 

"But I don't want you to get too far off till I think this thing overa little, " resumed the Cap'n. "There ain't no time now. You oughtto know this old farm of your'n pretty well. You just go find a holeand crawl into it for a while. "

"I'll do it, " declared Mr. Crymble, with alacrity. "I knew you'd findher 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'sa secret about that barnyard that no one knows but me. Blind hiseyes!"

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 blankwall of the ell shut off Mrs. Crymble's view of the scene. ConstableNute was still well down the road. There was only the basilisk Mr. Reeves on the woodpile. Cap'n Sproul grabbed up a quilt spread toair behind the ell, and with a word to Hiram as he passed him hescrambled up the heap of wood. Hiram followed, and the next momentthey had hoodwinked the amazed Mr. Reeves and held him baggedsecurely in the quilt. 

The Cap'n, with chin over his shoulder, saw Mr. Crymble scuff asidesome frozen dirt in a corner of the barnyard, raise a plank with hisbony 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 lookingat the place where Mr. Crymble had disappeared, there sounded amuffled 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 onhim. "

"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 topull the hole in after him. "

Mr. Reeves, left free to extricate himself from the quilt, bellowedto Mrs. Crymble and addressed the astonished Nute, who just thenswung 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 thearrival of the constable, swooped upon the scene with hawk-likeswiftness. 

"This day's work will cost you a pretty penny, Messers Look andSproul, " she shrilled. "Killin' a woman's husband ain't to be settledwith salve, a sorry, and a dollar bill, Messers Sproul and Look. "

"I reckon we're messers, all right, " murmured the Cap'n, gazinggloomily on the scene of the involuntary entombment of thethree-times-dead Crymble. "I couldn't prove that he was ever deadin his life, but there's one thing I've seen with my own eyes. Heacted as his own sexton, and that's almost as unbelievable as a man'scomin' 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 andhe comes up it like an angleworm. Looks from this side of the surfaceas though death, funeral service, interment, and mournin' was allover 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 storeand back, was that Cap'n Sproul and Hiram Look had attacked him withmurderous intent, and that after he had bravely fought them off theyhad wantonly grabbed Mr. Dependence Crymble, jabbed him down a holein the ground and kicked the hole in on him. 

"I've always vowed and declared they was both lunatics, " cried thereturning Mr. Reeves. He darted accusatory finger at thedisconsolate pair where they stood gazing down upon the place ofCrymble's sepulture. "They was hatchin' a plot and I busted it, andnow 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, andaffirmed the charge with an inspirational wealth of detail and aferocity of shrill accusation that took effect on the crowd in spiteof the lack of logic. In moments of excitement crowds are notdiscriminating. The Cap'n and Hiram gazed with some uneasiness onthe lowering faces. 

"They beat his brains out, gents, " she screamed--"beat the brainsout of the husband that had just come home to me after roamin' thewide world over. Hang 'em, I say! And I'll soap the clothes-line ifyou'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 thehole, "I'm ashamed of myself. I reckon he's better off down therethan up here. I don't wish him back. "

"If accused wish to say anything in their own defence it will beheard, " declaimed Squire Alcander, advancing from the gatheringthrong. "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 certainamount of dum foolishness, and I serve notice that I've had fullamount served out. Now you loafers standin' round gawpin, you grabanything that will scoop dirt and get to work diggin' here. "

"I don't propose to have no bill of expense run up on me, " announcedMrs. Crymble, "I've paid out for him all I'm goin' to, and I got donelong ago. "

"Bereaved and lovin' widder heard, neighbors and friends, " said theCap'n, significantly. "Now go ahead, people, and believe what shesays 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 cancable round and have him dug out from that side if you want to. ButI'm tellin' you right here and now that he's goin' to be dug out fromone side or the other. "

"He's dead and he's buried, ain't he?" demanded Reeves, rallying tothe 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 outof my way here, for if you or any other human polecat, male orfemale"--he directed withering glance at Mrs. Crymble--"gets in myway whilst I'm doin' what's to be done, if we ain't heathen, I'llsplit 'em down with this barn shovel. " He had secured the implementand tossed out the first shovelful. 

There were plenty of willing volunteers. They paid no attention tothe widow's reproaches. All who could, toiled with shovels. Otherslifted 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 tocommand silence, "if he ain't alive again after bein' killed thefourth time!"

Below there was a muffled "tunk-tunk-tunk!" It was plainly the soundof two rocks clacking together. It was appealing signal. 

Ten minutes later, furious digging brought the rescuers to a flatrock, part of the stoning of the caved-in well. In its fall it hadlodged upon soil and rocks, and when it was raised, gingerly andslowly, they found that, below in the cavern it had preserved, theresat 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 therest of me is dug up. "

When he had been lifted at last to the edge of the well he turneddull eyes of resentment on Mrs. Crymble. 

"I wish there'd been a hole clear through to the Sandwich Isle orany other heathen country, " he said, sourly. "I'd have crawled therethrough lakes of fire and seas of blood. "

She lifted her voice to vituperate, but his last clinch with deathseemed to have given Mr. Crymble a new sense of power andself-reliance. He hopped up, gathered a handful of rocks and madeat his Xantippe. His aim was not too good and he did not hit her, but he stood for several minutes and soulfully bombarded the doorthat she slammed behind her in her flight. 

Then he came back and gathered more rocks from the scene of his recentburial. 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 onme. There ain't no hell where I've been. And if there's any man herethat thinks he can shove me back into this hell on earth"--he shookhis fist at the house and singled Cap'n Sproul with flaming eye--"nowis the time for him to try to do it. "

"There ain't nobody goin' to try to do it, " said the Cap'n, comingup to him with frankly outstretched hand. He patted the rocks gentlyfrom the arms of the indignant Mr. Crymble. "As a gen'ral thing Istand up for matrimony and stand up for it firm--but I reckon I didn'tunderstand your case, Crymble. I apologize, and we'll shake handson it. You can have the school-house, and I'll do more'n that--I'llpay for fixin' it over. And in the mean time you come up to my houseand make me a good long visit. "

He shoved ingratiating hand into the hook of the other's bony elbowand 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 theymay cheer up Mis' Crymble from time to time. She needs cheerin' up. "

Hiram Look, following them out of the yard, yanked up the trespasssign 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'llpeg you like I peg tent-pegs for the big tent. "

And Reeves, having excellent ideas of discretion, passed over thelist of trespasses. He did not look up at the windows of the Crymblehouse as he rode away with his brother, the squire. And what wassignificant, he took away with him the neck-halter that, forconvenience' sake on his frequent calls, he had left hanging to thehitching-post in the Crymble yard for many weeks. 

XXVII

At last the Women's Temperance Workers' Union of Smyrna becamethoroughly indignant, in addition to being somewhat mystified. 

Twice they had "waited on" Landlord Ferd Parrott, of the Smyrnatavern--twelve of them in a stern delegation--and he had simplyblinked at them out of his puckery eyes, and pawed nervously at hisweazened face, and had given them no satisfaction. 

Twice they had marched bravely into the town office and had facedCap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman, and had complained that FerdParrott was running "a reg'lar rum-hole. " Cap'n Sproul had nippedhis bristly beard and gazed away from them at the ceiling, and saidhe would see what could be done about it. 

Mrs. Aaron Sproul, a devoted member of the W. T. W. 's, was appointeda committee of one to sound him, and found him, even in the sweetprivacy of home, so singularly embarrassed and uncommunicative thather affectionate heart was disturbed and grieved. 

Then came Constable Zeburee Nute into the presence of the town'schief executive with a complaint. 

"They're gittin' worse'n hornicks round me, " he whined, "themDouble-yer T. Double-yers. Want Ferd's place raided for licker. ButI understood you to tell me--"

"I hain't told you northin' about it!" roared the Cap'n, with mightyclap of open palm on the town ledger. 

"Well, you hain't give off orders to raid, seize and diskiver, libeland destroy, " complained the officer. 

"What be you, a 'tomatom that don't move till you pull a string, orbe you an officer that's supposed to know his own duty clear, andfollow 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'otherway, " growled the Cap'n. 

"Be I goin' to raid or ain't I goin' to raid?" demanded ConstableNute. "It's for you to say!"

"Look here, Nute, " said the Cap'n, rising and aiming his forefingerat 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-forkto lift hot dishes out of an oven that they've heated, you'd betterleave go--that's all I've got to say. "

"You might just as well know it's makin' talk, " ventured theconstable, taking a safer position near the door. A queer sort ofembarrassment 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 tookto 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'ntof it. If Ferd ain't shet up it will be said"--the constable lookedinto the snapping eyes of the first selectman and haltedapprehensively. 

"It ain't that I believe any such thing, Cap'n Sproul, " he declaredat last, breaking an embarrassing silence. "But here's them wimmentakin' up them San Francisco scandals to study in their CurrentEvents Club, and when the officers here don't act when complaint ismade about a hell-hole right here in town, talk starts, and it ain'tcomplimentary 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 knowedyou reminded me of something, but I didn't know what, before. Now, if them wimmen--" he began with decision, but broke off to starethrough the town-office window. Mr. Nute stepped from the door totake observation, too. 

Twelve women in single file were picking their way across the mushystreet piled with soft March snow. 

"Reckon the Double-yer T. Double-yers is goin' to wait on Ferd ag'into give him his final come-uppance, " suggested the constable. "Heardsome talk of it yistiddy. "

The Smyrna tavern into which they disappeared was a huge hulk, relicof the old days when the stage-coaches made the village theirheadquarters. The storms of years had washed the paint from it; ithad "hogged" in the roof where the great square chimney projectedits 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 wasseedy indeed. 

"I kind of pity Ferd, " mumbled the constable, his faded eyes on thecracked door that the last woman had slammed behind her. "Hain'taveraged to put up one man a week for five years, and I reckon he'shad to sell rum or starve. "

Cap'n Sproul made no observation. He still maintained that air ofnot caring to discuss the affairs of the Smyrna tavern. He staredat the building as though he rather expected to see the sides tumbleout or the roof fly up, or something of the sort. 

He did not bestow any especial attention on his friend Hiram Lookwhen the ex-circus man drove up to the hitching-post in front of thetown house with a fine flourish, hitched and came in. 

"Seems that your wife and mine have gone temperancin' again to-daywith the bunch, " remarked Hiram, relighting his cigar. "I don't knowwhat difference it makes whether old Branscomb and the other soshesround here get their ruin in an express-package or help Ferd to alittle business. They're bound to have it, anyway. "

"That ain't the p'int, " protested Constable Nute, stiffly, throwingback 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 andreprusentative 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 nosesinto the door-crack of a man's business when they know the man ain'tgot strength to slam the door shut on 'em. Wimmen's clubs is all rightso long as they stick to readin' hist'ry and discussin' tattin', butwhen they flock like a lot of old hen turkeys and go to peckin' aman because he's down and can't help himself, it ain't anything butpersecution--wolves turnin' on another one that's got his leg broke. I know animiles, and I know human critters. Them wimmen better bein 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 thephysog 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 wifebegins to take orders from an old maid in frosted specs instead offrom her own husband, then the moths is gettin' ready to eat theworsted out of the cardboard in the motto 'God bless our home!'"

"Law is law, " broke in the unabashed representative of it, "and ifthe men-folks of this town ain't got the gumption to stand behindan officer--"

"Look here, Nute, " gritted the Cap'n, "I'll stand behind you in abouttwo seconds, and I'll be standin' on one foot, at that! Don't yougo to castin' slurs on your betters. Because I've stood some talkfrom 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, andMr. Nute sat down meekly, returning no answer to the Cap'n'ssarcastic inquiry why he wasn't over at the tavern acting as convoyfor the Temperance Workers. 

Two minutes later some one came stamping along the corridor of thetown house. The office door was ajar, and this some one pushed itopen with his foot. 

It was Landlord Ferd Parrott. In one hand he carried an old glazedvalise, in the other a canvas extension-case, this reduplication ofbaggage indicating a serious intention on the part of Mr. Parrottto travel far and remain long. His visage was sullen and the set ofhis 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 roomit seemed as though his peculiar vision enabled him to fix an eyeon each at the same time. 

"I'm glad I found you here both together, " he snarled. "I can tellyou both at one whack. I ain't got northin' against you. You've usedme 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 thereis--this here is all that belongs to me. " He shook the valises atthem. "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 Ileave 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 Hiramsearched each the other's face with much interest. It was apparentthat perfect confidence did not exist between them on some mattersthat were to the fore just then. 

"Yours, " said Mr. Parrott, jerking a stiff nod to the Cap'n, "is amorgidge on house and stable and land. Yours, " he continued, withanother 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 canout 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 canstop 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 havea hotel, " he shrilled. "If they want to turn wimmen loose on me torun 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 momentthe presence of Constable Nute, "those wimmen might gabble a littleat you and make threats and things like that--but--but--there isn'tanything they can do, you understand!" He winked at Mr. Parrott. "Youknow 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 beeninto my house and knocked in the head of a keg of Medford rum, andbusted three demijohns of whiskey, and got old Branscomb to sign thepledge, and scared off the rest of the boys. Now they're goin' tohire a pung, and a delegation of three is goin' to meet every trainwith badges on and tell every arrivin' guest that the Smyrna tavernis a nasty, wicked place, and old Aunt Juliet Gifford and her twoold-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 whatthey've done to date--and if the married men of this place can't keeptheir wives to home and their noses out of my business, then Smyrnacan 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 uttersurrender, 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 moneywhere you can git it, seein' that you can't very well git it out ofmy hide. " And the retiring landlord of Smyrna tavern stormed out andplodded away down the mushy highway. 

Constable Nute gazed after him through the window, and then surveyedthe first selectman and Hiram with fresh and constantly increasinginterest. His tufty eyebrows crawled like caterpillars, indicatingthat the thoughts under them must be of a decidedly stirring nature. 

"Huh! That's it, is it?" he muttered, and noting that Cap'n Sproulseemed to be recovering his self-possession, he preferred not to waitfor the threats and extorted pledge that his natural craftinessscented. He dove out. 

"Where be ye goin' to?" demanded Hiram, checking the savage rush ofthe Cap'n. 

"Catch him and make him shet his chops about this, if I have to spikehis old jaws together. "

"It ain't no use, " said Hiram, gloomily, setting his shouldersagainst the door. "You'd only be makin' a show and spectacle in frontof the wimmen. And after that they'd squat the whole thing out ofhim, the same as you'd squat stewed punkin through a sieve. " He boredthe Cap'n with inquiring eye. "You wasn't tellin' me that you helda morgidge on that tavern real estate. " There was reproach in histones. 

"No, and you wasn't tellin' me that you had a bill of sale of thefixin's and furniture, " replied the Cap'n with acerbity. "How muchdid you let him have?"

"Fifteen hunderd, " said Hiram, rather shamefacedly, but he perkedup a bit when he added: "There's three pretty fair hoss-kind. "

"If there's anything about that place that's spavined any worse'nthem hosses it's the bedsteads, " snorted the other capitalist. "He'sbeat you by five hundred dollars. If you should pile that furniturein the yard and hang up a sign, 'Help yourself, ' folks wouldn't haulit off without pay for truckin'. "

"Le's see!" said Hiram, fingering his nose, "was it real money orConfederate scrip that _you_ let him have on _your_ morgidge?"

"Thutty-five hunderd ain't much on the most central piece of realestate 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' builtin 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--andI ain't braggin' of my strength none, either. "

The Cap'n did not venture to defend his investment further. He stareddespondently through the window at the seamed roof and weather-wornwalls that looked particularly forlorn and dilapidated on that grayMarch day. 

"I let him have money on it when the trees was leaved out, and thingslook different then, " he sighed. 

"And I must have let him have it when I was asleep and dreamin' thatStandard 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 sizeof 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 havewiggled 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 Iknew that Ferd was sellin' a little suthin' on the sly, but he toldme he was goin' to repair up and git in some summer boarders, andI was lettin' him work along. There ain't much business norlook-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 firstselectman, "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'lythink it belongs to Ferd. "

"Not since that bean-pole with a tin badge onto it got acrost therewith its mouth open, " affirmed Hiram, with decision, "and if he ain'ttold '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 theysomewhat diffidently ventured into the office of the tavernindicated that Hiram was not far off in his "figgerin'. " Theembarrassed self-consciousness of Constable Nute, staring at thestained ceiling, told much. The indignant eyes of the women toldmore. 

Mr. Parrott's brother was a sea-captain who had sent him "stuffed"natural-history curios from all parts of the world, and Mr. Parrotthad arranged a rather picturesque interior. Miss Philamese Nile, president of the W. T. W. 's, stood beneath a dusty alligator that swungfrom the ceiling, and Cap'n Sproul, glancing from one to the other, confessed to himself that he didn't know which face looked the mostsavage. 

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 insteadof the toppin'-lift. "

"Talk United States, Cap'n Sproul, " snapped Miss Nile. "You've hadyour money in this pit of perdition here, you and Hiram Look, thetwo of you. As a town officer you've let Ferd Parrott fun a cheap, nasty rum-hole, corruptin' and ruinin' the manhood of Smyrna, andyou've helped cover up this devilishness, though we, the wimmen ofthis 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 inthe countenances of their respective wives. Those faces were veryred, but their owners looked away resolutely and were plainlyanimated by a stern sense of duty, bulwarked as they were by theWorkers. 

"We've risen for the honor of this town, " continued Miss Nile. 

"Well, stay up, then!" snorted the short-tempered Hiram. "Though asfor me, I never could see anything very handsome in a hen tryin' tofly. "

"Do you hear that?" shrilled Miss Nile. "Aren't you proud of yournoble husband, Mis' Look? Isn't he a credit to the home and anornament to his native land?"

But Hiram, when indignant, was never abashed. 

"Wimmen, " said he, "has their duties to perform and their place tofill--all except old maids that make a specialty of 'tending to otherfolks' business. " He bent a withering look on Miss Nile. "Cap'nSproul and me ain't rummies, and you can't make it out so, not evenif you stand here and talk till you spit feathers. We've had businessdealin's with Parrott, and business is business. "

"And every grafter 'twixt here and kingdom come has had the sameexcuse, " declared the valiant head of the Workers. "Business or nobusiness, 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 theslush. 

"And it's the sense of the women of this place that such a dirty oldranch sha'n't disgrace Smyrna any longer. "

"You mean--"

"I mean shut up these doors--nail 'em--and let decent and respectablewomen put up the folks who pass this way--put 'em up in a decent andrespectable place. That's the sense of the women. "

"And it's about as much sense as wimmen show when they get out oftheir trodden path, " cried Hiram, angrily. "You and the rest of yethink, do ye, that me and Cap'n Sproul is goin' to make a presentof five thousand dollars to have this tavern stand here as aDouble-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 thespokeswoman 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 warnevery one against this tavern. There isn't a girl or woman in twentytowns around here who'll work in this hole after we've warned 'emwhat 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 noteda look of alarm on the Cap'n's face, and muttered to him under hisbreath: "You ain't goin' to let a pack of wimmen back ye down, beye?"

"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 theWorkers. "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' thatyour business is done here, and that this tavern is under newmanagement, you'll be excused to go over and start your own place. "

He opened the door and bowed, and the women, noting determinationin his eyes, began to murmur, to sniff spitefully, and to jostleslowly 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 hardfeelin's. But just now you are Double-yer T. Double-yers and we aretavern-keepers--and we don't hitch. " They went. 

"Now, Nute, " barked Hiram, when the constable lingered as thoughrather ashamed to depart with the women, "you get out of here andyou stay out, or I'll cook that stuffed alligator and a few othersof 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 thedeserted tavern, up-stairs and down-stairs. When they went into thekitchen the two hired girls were dragging their trunks to the door, and scornfully resisted all appeals to remain. They said it was anasty rum-hole, and that they had reputations to preserve just aswell 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 oftavern-keeping! There were even dirty dishes in the sink, soprecipitate was the departure. 

In the stable, the hostler, a one-eyed servitor, with the pipingvoice, wobbly gait, and shrunken features of the "white drunkard, "was in his usual sociable state of intoxication, and declared thathe would stick by them. He testified slobberingly as to his devotionto Mr. Parrott, declared that when the women descended Mr. Parrottconfided to him the delicate task of "hiding the stuff, " and thathe 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 haymowsand 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 withpositiveness. 

The hostler winked his one eye at him, and, having had a rogue's longexperience in roguery, plainly showed that he believed a command ofthis sort to be merely for the purpose of publication and not anevidence 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 onlywisht them hired girls had as good an attraction for stayin' as he'sgot. "

"Look here, Hiram, " said the Cap'n, stopping him on the porch, "it'sall right to make loud talk to them Double-yer T. Double-yers, butthere ain't any sense in makin' it to each other. You and me can'trun 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 passit down to their grandchildren how they done us out of all the moneywe put in here--two able-bodied business men like we be? A watch ain'tno good only so long's it's runnin', and a tavern ain't, either. We'vegot to run this till we can sell it, wimmen or no wimmen--and youhadn't ought to be a quitter with thutty-five hunderd in it. "

But there was very little enthusiasm or determination in the Cap'n'sface. The sullenness deepened there when he saw a vehicle turn inat the tavern yard. It was a red van on runners, and on its side wasinscribed:

 T. BRACKETT, TINWARE AND YANKEE NOTIONS. 

He was that round-faced, jovial little man who was known far and wideamong the housewives of the section as "Balm o' Joy Brackett, " onaccount of a certain liniment that he compounded and dispensed asa side-line. With the possible exception of one Marengo Todd, horse-jockey and also far-removed cousin of Mrs. Sproul, there wasno one in her circle of cousins that the Cap'n hated any morecordially than Todd Ward Brackett. Mr. Brackett, by cheerfullyhailing the Cap'n as "Cousin Aaron" at every opportunity, hadregularly 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, andproceeded to unharness. 

"Well, " sighed Hiram, resignedly, "guest Number One for supper, lodgin', and breakfast--nine shillin's and hossbait extry. 'Ev'rylittle 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 andwhirled to stare at them with mild amazement. "That's what I said, "insisted Cap'n Sproul, returning the stare. "Ferd Parrott ain'trunnin' this tavern any longer. We're runnin' it, and you nor noneof your stripe can stop here. " He reflected with sudden comfort thatthere was at least one advantage in owning a hotel. It gave a mana chance at his foes. 

"You're _runnin'_ it, be you?" inquired Mr. Brackett, raising hisvoice and glancing toward Broadway's store platform where loaferswere listening. 

"That's what we be, " shouted the Cap'n. 

"Well, I'm glad to hear that you're really _runnin'_ it--and thatit ain't closed, " said Mr. Brackett, "'cause I'm applyin' here toa public house to be put up, and if you turn me away, havin' plentyof room and your sign up, by ginger, I'll sue you under the statuteand law made and pervided. I ain't drunk nor disorderly, and I'vegot 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. Hefeared its menace and its intricacies. It was his nightmare that lawhad long been lying in wait on shore for him, and that once theland-sharks got him in their grip they would never let go until hewas sucked dry. 

"I've got witnesses who heard, " declared Mr. Brackett, wagglingmittened hand at the group on the platform. "Now you look out foryourself!"

He finished unharnessing his horse and led the animal toward the barn, carolling his everlasting lay about "Old Hip Huff, who went byfreight 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'tturn away custom and kill the thing dead. I'll 'tend the office, makethe 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 wasat 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 thatjimbedoggified junacker of a tin-peddler? I'll burn this old shackdown 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 sueand get damages, and report this tavern from Clew to Hackenny, andspoil our chances for a customer, and knock us out generally. "

He put his arm about the indignant Cap'n and drew him in where theloafers couldn't listen, and continued his anxious coaxings untilat last Cap'n Sproul kicked and stamped his way into the kitchen, cursing so horribly that the cat fled. He got a little initialsatisfaction by throwing after her the dirty dishes in the sink, listening to their crashing with supreme satisfaction. Then heproceeded to get supper. 

It had been a long time since he had indulged his natural taste forcookery. In a half-hour he had forgotten his anger and was revellingin the domain of pots and pans. He felt a sudden appetite of his ownfor the good, old-fashioned plum-duff of shipboard days, and startedone going. Then gingercake--his own kind--came to his memory. Hestirred up some of that. He sent Hiram on a dozen errands to thegrocery, and Hiram ran delightedly. 

"I'll show you whether I can cook or not, " was the Cap'n's proud boastto the showman when the latter bustled eagerly in from one of histrips. He held out a smoking doughnut on a fork. "There ain't onewoman in ten can fry 'em without 'em soakin' fat till they're as heavyas a sinker. "

Hiram gobbled to the last mouthful, expressing his admiration as heate, 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 whilein the tavern kitchen and ate a doughnut, and added their astonishedindorsement. In the flush of his masterfulness he would not permitthem to lay finger on dish, pot, or pan. 

Hiram served as waiter to the lonely guest in the dining-room, andwas the bearer of several messages of commendation that seemed toanger 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 ofplum-duff--the climax of his culinary art--and to his wrathfulastonishment Hiram brought it back untasted. 

"Mebbe it's all right, " he said, apologetically, "but he was filledfull, 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 startedfor the dining-room. 

"Hold on!" Hiram expostulated; "you've got to remember that he's aguest, Cap. He's--"

"He's goin' to eat what I give him, after I've been to all thetrouble, " roared the old skipper. 

Mr. Brackett was before the fire in the office, hiccuping withrepletion 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'tknow how to make plum-duff--me that's sailed the sea for thutty-fiveyears?"

"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 withas I have with this. "

"But I'm full up--chock!" pleaded Mr. Brackett. "I wisht I'd havesaved 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 yourthro't with the butt of your hoss-whip, " said the Cap'n with aniciness that was terrifying. He grabbed the little man by the collarand dragged him toward the dining-room, balancing the dish in theother 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, andstood over the guest until the last crumb of the duff was gone, although Mr. Brackett clucked hiccups like an overfed hen. The Cap'nfelt some of his choler evaporate, indulging in this sweet act oftyranny. 

Resentment came slowly into the jovial nature of meek Todd WardBrackett. But as he pushed away from the table he found courage tobend baleful gaze on his over-hospitable host. 

"I've put up at a good many taverns in my life, " he said, "and I'mallus willin' to eat my fair share of vittles, but I reckon I've gotthe right to say how much!"

"If you're done eatin', " snapped the Cap'n, "get along out, and don'tstay round in the way of the help. " And Mr. Brackett retired, growlingover this astonishing new insult. 

He surveyed the suspended alligator gloomily, as he stuffed tobaccointo his pipe. 

"Better shet them jaws, " he advised, "or now that he's crazy on theplum-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 folksgo away hungry under the new management, " remarked Hiram, endeavoring to palliate. 

"New management goin' to inorg'rate the plum-duffin' idee as areg'lar system?" inquired Mr. Brackett, sullenly. "If it is, I'llstay 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 reppytationof this tavern. " And the guest fell to smoking and muttering. 

Even as wisdom sometimes falls from the mouths of babes, so do goodideas occasionally spring from careless sarcasm. 

After Mr. Brackett had retired Hiram discussed the matter of theimpending elder with Cap'n Sproul, the Cap'n not warming to theproposition. 

"But I tell you if we can get that elder here, " insisted Hiram, "andexplain it to him and get him to stay, he's goin' to look at it inthe right light, if he's got any Christian charity in him. We'llentertain him free, do the right thing by him, tell him the case fromA to Z, and get him to handle them infernal wimmen. Only an eldercan do it. If we don't he may preach a sermon against us. That'llkill our business proposition deader'n it is now. If he stays it willgive a tone to the new management, and he can straighten the thingout for us. "

Not only did Cap'n Sproul fail to become enthusiastic, but he wasso distinctly discouraging that Hiram forbore to argue, feeling hisown optimistic resolution weaken under this depressing flow of coldwater. 

He did not broach the matter the next morning. He left the Cap'nabsorbed and busy in his domain of pots, set his jaws, took his ownhorse and pung, and started betimes for the railroad-station twomiles away. On the way he overtook and passed, with fine contemptfor 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 ingetting at the elder first, and frisking him away before the womenhad opportunity to open their mouths. A word from them might checkoperations. And then, with the capture once made, if he could speedhis horse fast enough to allow him an uninterrupted quarter of anhour at the tavern with the minister, he decided that only completeparalysis of the tongue could spoil his plan. 

Hiram, with his superior bulk and his desperate eagerness, had theadvantage of the women at the car-steps. He crowded close. It wasthe white-lawn tie on the first passenger who descended that did thebusiness for Hiram. In his mind white-lawn ties and clergymen weretoo intimately associated to admit of error. He yanked away thelittle man's valise, grabbed his arm, and rushed him across theplatform and into the pung's rear seat. And the instant he had scoopedthe reins from the dasher he flung himself into the front seat andwas away up the road, larruping his horse and ducking the snow-cakesthat 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 thereand 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!" Itseemed, after all, that ill repute had not spread far. His spiritsrose, and he whipped on at even better speed. 

"If this isn't life or death, " pleaded the little man, "you needn'thurry so. " Several "thank-you-marms" had nearly bounced him out. 

"Set clus', " advised the driver, and the little man endeavored toobey the admonition, clinging in the middle of the broad seat. 

Hiram did not check speed even on the slope of the hill leading intothe village, though the little man again lifted voice of fear andprotest. So tempestuous was the rush of the pung that the loafersin Broadway's store hustled out to watch. And they saw the runnersstrike the slush-submerged plank-walk leading across the square, beheld the end of the pung flip, saw the little man rise high abovethe seat with a fur robe in his arms and alight with a yell of mortalfright in the mushy highway, rolling over and over behind thevehicle. 

Helping hands of those running from the store platform picked himup, and brought his hat, and stroked the slush out of his eyes sothat he could see Hiram Look sweeping back to recover his passenger. 

"You devilish, infernal jayhawk of a lunatic!" squealed the littleman. "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 otherdrove furiously to the tavern porch. With equal celerity he hustledhim into the office. 

"You ain't in any condition to talk business jest now till you'reslicked off a little, elder, " he began in tones of abject apology. 

"You bet your jeeroosly life I'm not!" cried the little man in aperfect frenzy of fury. 

Again Hiram opened his mouth agitatedly, and his eyebrows wrinkledin pained surprise. Yet once more his eyes sought the white tie andhis hand reached for the little man's arm, and, feeling at a lossjust then for language of explanation, he hurried him up-stairs andinto a room whose drawn curtains masked some of its untidiness. 

"You wash up, elder, " he counselled. "I won't let anybody disturbyou, 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 shutthe door. 

He faced the Cap'n at the foot of the stairs. The Cap'n had beenwatching intently the ascent of the two, and had gathered from thelittle man's scuffles and his language that he was not a particularlyenthusiastic guest. 

"They come hard, but we must have 'em, hey?" he demanded, grimly. "This is worse than shanghaiing for a Liverpool boardin'-house, andI 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 stouttalk, but I ain't blamin' him. " He locked the outside door. "ThemDouble-yer T. Double-yers will be flockin' this way in a fewminutes, " he said, in explanation, "but they'll have to walk acrostme 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 andeagerly going over his arguments, once more they heard the treadingof many feet in the office. There were the W. T. W. 's in force, andthey had with them a tall, gaunt man; and the presence of Mrs. Lookand Mrs. Sproul, flushed but determined, indicated that the citadelhad 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 enforcementleague, and knows his duty when he sees it clear, he will talk toyou for your own good, and if it don't do you good, I warn you thatthere will be something said from the pulpit to-morrow that willbring down the guilty in high places. "

"The elder!" gasped Hiram, whirling to gaze aghast at the Cap'n. Thenhe turned desperate eyes up at the ceiling, where creaking footstepssounded. "Who in the name o' Jezebel--" he muttered. 

Above there was a sort of spluttering bark of a human voice, and thenext moment there was a sound as of some one running about wildly. Then down the stairs came the guest, clattering, slipping, andfalling the last few steps as he clung to the rail. His eyes wereshut tight, his face was dripping, and he was plaintively bleatingover and over: "I'm poisoned! I'm blind!"

Hiram ran to him and picked him up from where he had fallen. His coatand vest were off, and his suspenders trailed behind him. One sniffat his frowsled hair told Hiram the story. The little man's topknotwas soppy with whiskey; his face was running with it; his eyes werefull of it. And the next moment the doubtful aroma had spread to thenostrils of all. And the one-eyed hostler and liquor depository, standing on the outskirts of the throng that he had solicitouslyfollowed in, slapped palm against thigh and cried: "By Peter, that'sthe 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 allthe 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 onFerd, " 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, facingthe women. "I gave him his orders. I give him his orders now. Youjest appoint your delegation, wimmen! Don't you hold me to blame forrum bein' here. You foller that man! And if he don't show you whereevery 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 thealligator from the ceiling, seized it by the stiff tail and poisedit 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 comeat me in a fair and reasonable way. You talk to them wimmen, elder, about bein' fair and reasonable themselves, and then lead 'em backhere, and you'll find me ready to pull with 'em for the good of thisplace, without tryin' to run cross-legged or turn a yoke or twistthe hames. "

When the reformers had departed on the heels of the cowed hostler, Hiram surveyed with interest the little man who was left alone withthem. 

"I--I--reckon I've got a little business to talk over with you, "faltered the old showman, surveying him ruefully. The little man tooka parting sniff at his finger-tips. 

"You think, do you, that you've got over being driven up and thatnow you can stop flying and perch a few minutes?" inquired the littleman 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 theCap'n for a time with steely eyes, "I happened to run across oneFerdinand Parrott on the train, and he seemed to have what I've beenlooking for, a property that I can convert into a sanitarium. My nameis 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 anythingabout a morgidge and bill of sale bein' on this property, and be youprepared to clear off encumbrances?"

"I am, " declared the professor promptly. 

"Then you take it, " snapped Hiram, with comprehensive sweep of hisbig hand. He kicked the alligator into the fireplace, took down hisovercoat and shrugged his shoulders into it. "Get your money countedand come 'round to town office for your papers. "

While he was buttoning it the Reverend Thayer returned, leading theladies of the Women's Temperance Workers, Miss Philamese Nile at hisside. But Hiram checked her first words. 

"You talk to him after this, " he said, with a chuck of his thumb overhis shoulder toward the professor. "Speakin' for Cap'n Aaron Sprouland 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, SweetHome'. " He strode out by the front way, followed by Mrs. Look. 

"Had you just as soon come through the kitchen with me?" asked theCap'n in a whisper as he approached his wife. "I'm goin' to do upwhat's left of that plum-duff and take it home. It kind o' hits mytooth!"

XXIX

Mr. Aholiah Luce, of the Purgatory Hollow section of Smyrna, stoodat bay on the dirt-banking of his "castle, " that is, a sagged-in oldhulk of a house of which only the L was habitable. 

He was facing a delegation of his fellow-citizens, to wit: Cap'nAaron Sproul, first selectman of the town; Hiram Look, Zeburee Nute, constable; and a nervous little man with a smudge of smut on the sideof his nose--identity and occupation revealed by the lettering onthe side of his wagon:

 T. TAYLOR STOVES AND TINWARE VIENNA

Mr. Luce had his rubber boots set wide apart, and his tucked-introusers emphasized the bow in his legs. With those legs and hiselongated neck and round, knobby head, Mr. Luce closely resembledone 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 cometo the limick. Now look out you don't squdge me too fur!"

He side-stepped and stood athwart his door, the frame of which hadbeen recently narrowed by half, the new boarding showing glaringlyagainst the old. When one understood the situation, this new boardinghad a very significant appearance. 

Mr. Luce had gone over into Vienna, where his reputation forshiftiness was not as well known, and had secured from Mr. T. Taylor, recently set up in the stove business, a new range with all modernattachments, promising to pay on the instalment plan. Stove onceinstalled, Mr. Luce had immediately begun to "improve" his mansionby building a new door-frame too narrow to permit the exit of thestove. Then Mr. Luce had neglected to pay, and, approached byreplevin papers, invoked the statute that provides that a man's housecannot be ripped in pieces to secure goods purchased on credit. 

Constable Nute, unable to cope with the problem, had driven to Smyrnavillage and summoned the first selectman, and the Cap'n had solicitedHiram Look to transport him, never having conquered his sailor's fearof a horse. 

"It ain't goin' to be twitted abroad in Vienny nor any other townthat we let you steal from outsiders in any such way as this, "declared the first selectman, once on the ground. "Folks has alluscal'lated on your stealin' about so much here in town in the run ofa 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 slurredagainst this town. Take down that scantlin' stuff and let this manhave 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 tokeep it from flapping in the wind. Within the mansion there was themellow rasp of a tin of biscuit on an oven floor, the slam of an ovendoor, and Mrs. Luce appeared dusting flour from her hands. All whoknew Mrs. Luce knew that she was a persistent and insistent exponentof the belief of the Millerites--"Go-uppers, " they called the sectin Smyrna. 

"I say you've got to open up and give this man his property, " criedCap'n Sproul, advancing on them. 

"Property? Who talks of property?" demanded Mrs. Luce, her voicehollow with the hollowness of the prophet. "No one knows the day andthe hour when we are to be swept up. It is near at hand. We shallride triumphant to the skies. And will any one think of property andthe vain things of this world then?"

"Prob'ly not, " agreed the Cap'n, sarcastically, "and there won't beany need of a cook-stove in the place where your husband will fetchup. He can do all his cookin' on a toastin'-fork over an openfire--there'll be plenty of blaze. "

"Don't squdge me too fur, " repeated Mr. Luce, clinging to the mostexpressive 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 firstselectman, where the latter stood glowering on the culprit. "I reckonyou 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 theydidn't think it was anything but playin'. Once he stole the specsoff'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 Burnswas vaccinatin' him--and he wa'n't more'n tew years old--he got Doc'swatch. "

"Those things would kind of give you a notion he'd steal, give hima fair chance, " commented Hiram, dryly. 

"He's stole ever since--everything from carpet tacks to a load ofhay, " snapped the constable, "till folks don't stop to think he'sstealin'. He's got to be like rats and hossflies and other pests--youcuss '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 undermy nose. Why haven't you arrested him in times past, same as you oughtto 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 tobarns; and it wouldn't be no satisfaction to send 'Liah Luce to StatePrison--he ain't account enough. It wouldn't pay the loser for astand of buildin's--havin' him there. "

Cap'n Sproul began to understand some of the sane business reasonsthat guaranteed the immunity of Aholiah Luce, so long as he stuckto petty thieving. But this international matter of the town ofVienna seemed to the first selectman of Smyrna to be another sortof proposition. And he surveyed the recalcitrant Mr. Luce withmalignant gaze. 

"I've never seen you backed down by nobody, " vouchsafed the admiringconstable, anxious to shift his own responsibility and understandingpretty well how to do it. "I've allus said that if there was any mancould run this town the way it ought to be run you was the man todo it. "

Cap'n Sproul was not the kind to disappoint the confident flatteryof those who looked up to him. He buttoned his pea-jacket, and sethis hat firmly on his head. Mr. Luce noted these signs of belligerencyand braced his firedog legs. 

"It's the meek that shall inherit, ye want to remember that!" croakedMrs. Luce. "And the crowned heads and the high and mighty--where willthey 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'vegot 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 lawp'ints nor argy doctrines of religion. You've got a stove there thatbelongs 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 fifteenseconds to pay or tear down that door framework. "

But neither alternative, nor the time allowed for acceptance, seemedto please Mr. Luce. In sudden, weak anger at being thus cornered afterlong immunity, he anathematized all authority as 'twas vested in thefirst selectman of Smyrna. Several men passing in the highway heldup their horses and listened with interest. 

Emboldened by his audience, spurred to desperate measures, Mr. Lucekicked out one of his rubber boots at the advancing Cap'n. The Cap'npromptly grasped the extended leg and yanked. Mr. Luce came off hisperch and fell on his back in the mud, and Constable Nute straddledhim instantly and held him down. With an axe that he picked up atthe 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 betweenhis 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 doorwas 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 throughthat roof, and it won't be no millennium that will boost you, either. "

The stove man and Hiram followed him in and the disinterestedonlookers came, too, curiosity impelling them. And as they wereSmyrna farmers who had suffered various and aggravating depredationsby this same Aholiah Luce, they were willing to lend a hand even tolug out a hot stove. The refulgent monarch of the kitchen departed, with the tin of biscuit still browning in its interior, passed closeto 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'swagon. 

Mr. Luce, freed now as one innocuous, leaped up and down in a perfectecstasy 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 evensteal hens till it's dark and they can't look at him. If they turnedand 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 vastinjury that had been done him, this ruthless assault on his house, his humiliation in public, and now these wanton taunts, whipped hisweak 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 tobe an outlaw, hey? I'll show ye!" he hastened with a queer sort ofstiff-legged gallop into the field, tore away some boarding, anddescended into what was evidently a hiding-place, a dry well. Amoment, and up he popped, boosting a burden. He slung it over hisshoulder and started toward them, staggering under its weight. Itwas a huge sack, with something in it that sagged heavily. 

"Nice sort of an outlaw he'll make--that woodchuck!" observedConstable Nute with a cackle of mirth. 

The first selectman and his supporters surveyed the approach of thefurious Mr. Luce with great complacency. If Mr. Luce had emerged witha shot-gun in his fist and a knife in his teeth he might have presentedsome semblance of an outlaw. But this bow-legged man with a sackcertainly did not seem savage. Hiram offered the humorous suggestionthat perhaps Mr. Luce proposed to restore property, and therebycausing people to fall dead with astonishment would get his revengeon society. 

"I warned ye and you wouldn't listen, " screamed the self-declaredpariah. "I said there was such a thing as squdgin' me too fur. Yedidn't believe it. Now mebbe ye'll believe that!"

He had halted at a little distance from them, and had set down hissack. He dove into it and held up a cylinder, something more thanhalf a foot long, a brown, unassuming cylinder that certainly didn'thave anything about its looks to call out all the excitement thatwas convulsing Mr. Luce. 

"Pee-ruse that!" squealed he. "_There's_ a lead-pencil that willwrite some news for ye. " He shook the cylinder at them. "And there'splenty 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 bystandersindignantly. "You stole all me and my brother bought and had storedfor a season's blastin'. Constable Nute, I call on you to arrest himand give me back my property. "

"Arrest me, hey?" repeated Mr. Luce. In one hand he shook aloft thestick of dynamite, with its dangling fuse that grimly suggested thedetonating cap at its root. In the other hand he clutched a bunchof matches. "You start in to arrest me and you'll arrest two milesstraight up above here, travellin' a hundred miles a minit. "

"There ain't any grit in him, Nute, " mumbled Cap'n Sproul. "Jest givea whoop and dash on him. "

"That sounds glib and easy, " demurred the prudent officer, "but ifthat man hasn't gone clean loony then I'm no jedge. I don't reckonI'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 thepound, " remonstrated the constable. "But I didn't do it, and I wasn'tholden to do it. And I ain't holden to run up and git blowed toeverlastin' hackmetack with a bag of dynamite. "

"Look here, Nute, " cried the Cap'n, thoroughly indignant andshifting the contention to his officer--entirely willing to ignoreMr. Luce's threats and provocations--"I haven't called on you in atight place ever in my life but what you've sneaked out. You ain'tfit for even a hog-reeve. I'm going to cancel your constableappointment, that's what I'll do when I get to town hall. "

"I'll do it right now, " declared the offended Mr. Nute, unpinninghis badge. "Any time you've ordered me to do something sensible I'vedone it. But el'funts and lunatics and dynamite and some of the otherjobs 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 rakeme over. " He had noted that the group in the highway had considerablyincreased. "I've resigned. "

Mr. Luce was also more or less influenced and emboldened and prickedon by being the centre of eyes. As long as he seemed to be expectedto give a show, he proposed to make it a good one. His flaming eyesfell on T. Taylor, busy over the stove, getting it ready for itsjourney back to Vienna. Mr. Taylor, happy in the recovery of hisproperty, was paying little attention to outlaws or officialdisputes. He had cleaned out the coals and ashes, and having justnow discovered the tin of biscuit, tossed it away. This last seemedtoo much for Mr. Luce's self-control. 

"I don't dast to be an outlaw, hey?" he cried, hoarsely. "That stoveis too good for me, is it? My wife's biskits throwed into the mudand mire!"

He lighted the fuse of the dynamite, ran to the team and popped theexplosive into the stove oven and slammed the door. Then he flew tohis sack, hoisted it to his shoulder and staggered back toward thedry well. 

At this critical juncture there did not arise one of those rarespirits to perform an act of noble self-sacrifice. There have beenthose who have tossed spluttering bombs into the sea; who havetrodden out hissing fuses. But just then no one seemed to care forthe exclusive and personal custody of that stick of dynamite. 

All those in teams whipped up, yelling like madmen, and those on footgrabbed on behind and clambered over tailboards. Cap'n Sproul, feeling safer on his own legs than in Hiram's team, pounded away downthe road with the speed of a frantic Percheron. And in all this panicT. Taylor, only dimly realizing that there was something in his stovethat was going to cause serious trouble, obeyed the exhortationsscreamed at him, cut away his horse, straddled the beast's back andfled with the rest. 

The last one in sight was Mrs. Luce, who had shown serious intentionsof remaining on the spot as though she feared to miss anything thatbore the least resemblance to the coming of the last great day. Butshe suddenly obeyed her husband, who was yelling at her over the edgeof the hole, and ran and fell in by his side. 

Missiles that screamed overhead signalized to the scatteredfugitives the utter disintegration of T. Taylor's stove. The hearthmowed off a crumbly chimney on the Luce house, and flying fragmentscrushed out sash in the windows of the abandoned main part. Cap'nSproul was the first one to reappear, coming from behind a distanttree. There was a hole in the ground where T. Taylor's wagon hadstood. 

"Daminite!" screamed a voice. Mr. Luce was dancing up and down onthe edge of his hole, shaking another stick of the explosive. "I'llshow ye whuther I'm an outlaw or not! I'll have this town down onits knees. I'll show ye what it means to squdge me too fur. I giveye fair warnin' from now on. I'm a desp'rit' man. They'll write novelsabout me before I'm done. Try to arrest me, will ye? I'll take thewhole possy sky-hootin' with me when ye come. " He was drunk with powersuddenly revealed to him. 

He lifted the sack out of the hole and, paying no heed to some apparentexpostulations of Mrs. Luce, he staggered away up the hillside intothe beech growth, bowed under his burden. And after standing andgazing for some time at the place where he disappeared, the firstselectman 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 breathto mark relief, "get in here and let's go home. Accordin' to my notion, replevinin' and outlawin' ain't neither sensible or fashionable orhealthy. Somethin' that looked like a stove-cover and sounded likea howlaferinus only just missed me by about two feet. That critter'sdangerous 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 beenketched. You're the head of the town and I ain't, and I ain'tpresumin' to advise, but I'd think twice before I went to runnin'that bag o' dynamite into close corners. Luce ain't no account, andno more is an old hoss-pistol, but when a hoss-pistol busts it's adangerous thing to be close to. You let him alone and mebbe he'llquiet down. "

But that prophecy did not take into account the state of mind of thenew outlaw of Smyrna. 

XXX

At about midnight Cap'n Sproul, snoring peaceably with wide-openmouth, snapped upright in bed with a jerk that set his teeth intohis tongue and nearly dislocated his neck. He didn't know exactlywhat had happened. He had a dizzy, dreaming feeling that he had beenlifted up a few hundred feet in the air and dropped back. 

"Land o' Goshen, Aaron, what was it?" gasped his wife. "It soundedlike 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 trousersand set forth to investigate. An old barn on his premises, astorehouse for an overplus of hay and discarded farming tools, hadbeen blown to smithereens and lay scattered about under the stars. And as he picked his way around the ruins with a lantern, cursingthe name of Luce, a far voice hailed him from the gloom of a beltof 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 asound than a jar, as of something striking a mighty blow on the earth. 

"More dynamite!" he muttered, recognizing that explosive'sdown-whacking characteristic. And in the morning Hiram Look hurriedacross to inform him that some miscreant had blown up an emptycorn-house on his premises, and that the explosion had shattered allthe windows in the main barn and nearly scared Imogene, the elephant, into conniptions. "And he came and hollered into my bedroom windowthat he'd show me whuther he could be an outlaw or not, " concludedthe old showman. "I tell you that critter is dangerous, and you'vegot to get him. Instead of quietin' down he'll be growin' worse. "

There were eleven men in Smyrna, besides Zeburee Nute, who heldcommissions as constables, and those valiant officers Cap'n Sproulcalled into the first selectman's office that forenoon. He could nottell them any news. The whole of Smyrna was ringing with theintelligence that Aholiah Luce had turned outlaw and was on therampage. 

The constables, however, could give Selectman Sproul some news. Theygave it to him after he had ordered them to surround Mr. Luce andtake him, dynamite and all. This news was to the effect that theyhad 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 withouthim gittin' us, if he's so minded, all in one tableau, same to beobserved with smoked glasses like an eclipse. No, s'r, we ain't inany way disposed to taller the heavens nor furnish mince-meatfunerals. And if we don't git him, and he knows we're takin' actionagin' him, he'll come round and blow our barns up--and we ain't sowell able to stand the loss as you and Mr. Look be. "

"Well, if you ain't about the nearest to knot-holes with the rimsgone 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 doit 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 beena plain thief, and we've got along with him here in town allright--onpleasant and somewhat expensive, like potater-bugs. Butyou seem to have gone to pushin' him and have turned him frompotater-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 citizensain't at all pleased with your pokin' him up, when all was quiet. "

"Citizens ruther have it said, hey, that we are supportin' aland-pirut here in this town, and let him disgrace us even over inVienny?" demanded the Cap'n. 

"Which was wuss?" inquired Mr. Snell, serenely. "As it was or as itis?"

Then the ex-constables, driven forth with contumely, went across tothe platform of Broadway's store, and discussed the situation withother citizens, finding the opinion quite unanimous that Cap'nSproul possessed too short a temper to handle delicate matters withdiplomacy. And it was agreed that Aholiah Luce, weak of wit andmorally pernicious, was a delicate matter, when all sides were takeninto 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 aclamor in the quiet village that brought the Cap'n out of the townhouse. "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 everyone 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 storeapologetically, a store-bill everlastingly unpaid oppressing hisspirits. Now he bellowed autocratic command, and his soul swelledwhen he saw Broadway timorously hastening to obey. 

"I'll show 'em whuther I'm an outlaw or not, " he muttered. "And Iwisht I'd been one before, if it works like this. The monarch of theInjies couldn't git more attention, " he reflected, as he saw theusually contemptuous Broadway hustling about, wrapping up the goods. 

He saw scared faces peering in at him through the windows. He swungthe sack off his shoulder, and bumped it on the floor with a flourish. 

"My Lord-amighty, be careful with that!" squawked Broadway, duckingdown 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 thestick of dynamite that he carried in his hand. And Mr. Broadway hoppedup 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 counteras gingerly as he would feed meat to a tiger. He stuffed them intohis sack. "I shall do jest as I want to about it. And when I've etup 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 withpolite treatment, I'll make it rain groc'ries in this section fortwenty-four hours. "

"I didn't uphold them that smashed in your door, " protested thestorekeeper, 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 wholetown 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 withthe air of Alexander on the banks of the Euphrates. For the firsttime 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 earnedrespect, and the little mind of Smyrna's outlaw whirled dizzily inhis filbert skull. 

"I don't know what I'll do yit, " he shouted, hailing certain facesthat he saw peering at him. "It was your seleckman that done it--anda 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 stoodat 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'llpay ye five hundred dollars to set down that sack and step out thereinto the middle of that square--and I call on all here as witnessesto that offer, " he cried, noting that citizens were beginning tocreep back into sight once more. "Five hundred dollars for you, youbow-legged hen-thief! You sculpin-mouthed hyena, blowing up men'sproperty!"

"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 withrespect 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, '" roaredthe Cap'n, beside himself, ashamed, enraged at his impotence beforethis boastful fool and his grim bulwark. His impulse was to castcaution to the winds and rush upon Luce. But reflection told him that, in this flush of his childish resentment and new prominence, Lucewas capable of anything. Therefore he prudently held to the side ofthe road. 

"The next time I come into this village, " said Mr. Luce, "I don'tpropose to be called names in public by any old salt hake that haspounded 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 metoo fur!"

He walked back a little way, lighted the fuse of the stick of dynamitethat he carried, and in spite of horrified appeals to him, cast overthe shoulders of fleeing citizens, he tossed the wicked explosiveinto the middle of the square and ran. 

In the words of Mr. Snell, when he came out from behind thewatering-trough: "It was a corn-cracker!"

A half-hour later Mr. Nute, after sadly completing a canvass of thesituation, headed a delegation that visited Cap'n Sproul in theselectman'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 andthe big light in Broadway's store. And it all happened because thecritter 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 andsettled the damage?" inquired the first selectman, with balefulblandness in his tones. 

Mr. Nute did not possess a delicate sense of humor or of satire. Hethoughtfully rubbed his nose. 

"Reely, " he said, "when you git it reduced right down, that critterain't responsible any more'n one of them dynamite sticks isresponsible, and if it hadn't been for you lettin' him loose and thenpokin' him, contrary to warnin', them hundred and seventeen lightsof 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 andclinching his fists, "that if you ever mention responsibility to meagain, Nute, I'll take you by the heels and smash in the rest of thatglass with you--and I'll do the same with any one else who don't knowenough to keep his yawp shut. Get out of here, the whole of you, orI'll begin on what glass is left in this town house. "

They departed silently, awed by the menace of his countenance, butall the more bitterly fixed in their resentment. 

That night two more hollow "chunks" shook the ground of Smyrna, atintervals an hour separated, and morning light showed that twoisolated 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 appetiteseeming to have a finer edge to correspond with his rising courage. He even hinted that Broadway's stock was not very complete, and thatsome early strawberries might soften a few of the asperities of hisnature. 

"I ain't never had a fair show on eatin', " he complained to theapprehensive storekeeper. "It's been ten years that my wife ain'tgot 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 andthinks the end of the world is li'ble to come any minit. And the wayI figger it, not havin' vittles reg'lar has give me dyspepsy, anddyspepsy has made me cranky, and not safe to be squdged too fur. Andthat's the whole trouble. I've got a hankerin' for strorb'ries. Theymay make me more supple. P'raps not, but it's wuth tryin'. "

He tossed the cans into his sack in a perfectly reckless manner, untilBroadway was sick and hiccuping with fear. "Love o' Lordy, " hepleaded, "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 thetrouble 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 supplenext time I come. "

He dug a tender strip out of the centre of a hanging codfish, andwalked out. Parading his ease of spirits and contempt for humanityin general, he stood on the platform and gnawed at the fish and gazedserenely on the broken windows. 

"I done it, " he mumbled, admiringly. "I showed 'em! It won't takemuch more showin', and then they'll let me alone, and I'll live happyever after. Wonder is I hadn't reelized it before. Tail up, andeverybody stands to one side. Tail down, and everybody is tryin' tokick you. If it wa'n't for that streak in human nature them devilishtrusts that I've heard tell of couldn't live a minit. " He saw menstanding afar and staring at him apprehensively. "That's right, dingbaste 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 cando it. "

And after further triumphant survey of the situation, he went away. 

"Hiram, " said Cap'n Sproul, with decision, turning from a long surveyof Mr. Luce's retreating back through a broken window of the townhouse, "this thing has gone jest as far as it's goin'. "

"Well, " declared the showman with some bitterness, "to have themthat's in authority stand round here and let one bow-legged lunaticblow up this whole town piecemeal ain't in any ways satisfyin' tothe voters. I hear the talk, and I'm givin' it to you straight asa friend. "

"I've got my plan all made, " said the first selectman. "I want youas foreman to call out the Ancient and Honer'ble Firemen'sAssociation and have 'em surround them woods, and we'll take him. "

"We will, hey?" demanded Hiram, pushing back his plug hat andsquinting angrily. "What do you think that firemen's association isfor, anyway?"

"Never knew it to do anything but eat free picnics and give socialdances, " retorted the Cap'n. "I didn't know but it was willin' tobe useful for once in its life. "

"Slur noted!" said Hiram, with acerbity. "But you can't expect usto pull you out of a hole that you've mismanaged yourself into. Youneedn't flare, now, Cap'n. It's been mismanaged, and that's thesentiment of the town. I ain't twittin' you because I've lostproperty. 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 burdenof this onto me, and then stand back and growl at me! Well, if thisthing is up to me alone and friendless and single-handed, I know whatI'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 findhim in them woods. You'd have to nail him here in the village, andbesides its bein' murder right in the face and eyes of folks, you'dput a bullet into that sack o' dynamite and blow ev'ry store, meetin'-house, and school-house in Smyrna off'm the map. You givethat up, or I'll pass the word and have you arrested, yourself, asa 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 thebroken window at other broken windows. Ex-Constable Nute presentedhimself at the pane outside and said, nervously chewing tobacco: "Ireckon it's the only thing that can be done now, Cap'n. It seems tobe the general sentiment. "

With a flicker of hope irradiating his features, Cap'n Sproulinquired for details. 

"It's to write to the President and get him to send down a hunk ofthe United States Army. You've got to fight fire with fire. "

Without particular display of passion, with the numb stolidity ofone whose inner fires have burned out, the selectman got up and threwa cuspidor through the window at his counsellor, and then seatedhimself 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, andseated herself in front of the musing first selectman. 

"I've come to call on for town help, " she said. "I haven't got scrapnor skred to eat, and northin' to cook it with. You've gone to workand put us in a pretty mess, Mister S'leckman. Makin' my husband anoutlaw that's took to the woods, and me left on the chips!"

The Cap'n surveyed her without speaking--apparently too crushed tomake any talk. In addition to other plagues, it was now plain thathe had brought a pauper upon the town of Smyrna. 

"So I call on, " she repeated, "and I need a whole new stock ofgroc'ries, and something to cook 'em with. "

And still the Cap'n did not speak. He sat considering her, his browsknitted. 

"I'm a proud woman nat'rally, " she went on, "and it's tough to haveto call on 'cause the crowned heads of earth has oppressed the meekand the lowly. "

Cap'n Sproul trudged across the room, and took down a big bookinscribed "Revised Statutes. " He found a place in the volume andbegan to read in an undertone, occasionally looking over his specsat 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 bedeclared paupers till such time as, and so forth. " He banged the bigbook shut. "Interestin' if true--and found to be true. Law to useas needed. So you call on, do you, marm?" he queried, raising hisvoice. "Well, if you're all ready to start for the poor-farm, comealong. "

"I ain't goin' onto no poor-farm, " she squealed. "I call on, but Iwant supplies furnished. "

"Overseer of the poor has the say as to what shall be done withpaupers, " announced the Cap'n. "I say poor-farm. They need a good, able-bodied pauper woman there, like you seem to be. The other wimmenpaupers are bedridden. "

"My husband will never let me be took to the poorhouse and keptthere. "

"Oh, there ain't goin' to be any trouble from that side. You're rightin 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 veryspecial grudge against him, seein' that he's a poor, unfortunatecritter. I'm sorry, but so it is. " He went on with great appearanceof candor. "You see, he don't understand the nature of that stuffhe's luggin' round. It goes off itself when it gets about so warm. It's comin' warmin' weather now--sun gettin' high--and mebbe nexttime 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 actsof the gen'ral run of cowards in this town I don't reckon any oneelse will feel called on to get near enough to him to tell him. Ohno! 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'sa ten-dollar bill that I'll advance from the town. I reckon I'll waittill after you're a widder before I take you to the poorhouse. "

She clutched the bill and ran out. He watched her scurry down thestreet with satisfaction wrinkling under his beard. "It was a kindof happy idee and it seems to be workin', " he observed. "I've allusthought I knew enough about cowards to write a book on 'em. We'llsee!"

That night there were no alarms in Smyrna. Cap'n Sproul, walking tohis office the next forenoon, mentally scored one on the right sideof 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'llshow ye!" He swung the sack from his shoulder, and held it up in bothhands for the retreating populace to see. "I jest as soon flam thiswhole thing down here in the ro'd. I jest as soon kick it. I jestas soon set on it and smoke my pipe. I'm an outlaw and I ain't afeardof 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 longtime kept one of his telescopes hanging beside a window in the townoffice. He took this down and studied the contour of the bumps thatswelled Mr. Luce's sack. His survey seemed to satisfy him. "Tone ofhis talk is really enough--but the shape of that bag settles it withme. "

The next moment all of Smyrna that happened to be in sight of thescene gasped with horror on beholding the first selectman walk outof the town house and stalk directly across the square toward thedynamiter. 

"You go back, " screamed Mr. Luce, "or I'll flam it!"

But no longer was Mr. Luce's tone dauntless and ferocious. TheCap'n's keen ear caught the coward's note of querulousness, for hehad heard that note many times before in his stormy association withmen. He chuckled and walked on more briskly. 

"I'll do it--I swear I will!" said Mr. Luce, but his voice was onlya weak piping. 

In spite of itself Smyrna stopped, groaned, and squatted where itstood when Mr. Luce swung the sack and launched it at the intrepidselectman. As he threw it, the outlaw turned to run. The Cap'n grabbedthe sack, catapulted it back, and caught the fleeing Mr. Lucesquarely between the shoulders; and he went down on his face witha yell of pain. The next moment Smyrna saw her first selectman kickinga 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 fisttwisted in Mr. Luce's collar. 

"This critter belongs in State Prison, but I ain't goin' to send himthere. He's goin' onto our poor-farm, and he's goin' to work for thefirst time in his life, and he'll keep to work till he works up someof the bill he owes this town. He's a pauper because his wife hascalled 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 cowardshave got anything to say why my sentence won't be carried out, nowis the time to say it. "

He glowered into their faces, but no one said anything except ZebureeNute, who quavered: "We allus knowed you was the smartest man thatever came to this town, and--"

"Close that mouth!" yelped Cap'n Sproul. "It's worse than an openhatch on a superphosphate schooner. "

"You dare to leave that town farm, you or your wife either, " theselectman went on, giving Mr. Luce a vigorous shake, "and I'll haveyou in State Prison as quick as a grand jury can indict. Nute, youhitch and take him down there, and tell the boss he's to work tenhours 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, wasdriven away while the first selectman was picking up the sack thatstill lay in the village square. Without a moment's hesitation heslit it with his big knife, and emptied its contents into a hole thatthe spring frosts had left. Those contents were simply rocks. 

"In the name of Joanthus Cicero!" gasped Broadway, licking his drylips. "How did you figger it?"

The Cap'n finished kicking the sack down into the hole beside therocks, clacked shut his knife-blade, and rammed the knife deep intohis trousers pocket. 

"When you critters here in town get to be grown up to be more thanten years old, " he grunted, surveying the gaping graybeards of Smyrna, "and can understand man's business, I may talk to you. Just now I'vegot something to attend to besides foolishness. "

And he trudged back into the town house, with his fellow-citizensstaring after him, as the populace of Rome must have stared aftervictorious Caesar. 

XXXI

For some weeks the town of Smyrna had been witnessing something verylike a bear-baiting. 

Cap'n Aaron Sproul, first selectman, again played the role of thebear, 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 sullenrage that was excusable, if viewed from the standpoint of an earnesttown officer. Viewed from the standpoint of the populace, he was aselfish, cross-grained old obstructionist. 

Here was the situation: By thrift and shrewd management he hadaccumulated during his reign nearly enough funds to pay off the towndebt and retire interest-bearing notes. He had proposed to make thatfeat the boast and the crowning point of his tenure of office. Hehad announced that on a certain day he would have a bonfire of thosenotes in the village square. After that announcement he had listenedfor plaudits. What he did hear were resentful growls from taxpayerswho now discovered that they had been assessed more than the runningexpenses of the town called for; and they were mad about it. Theexistence of that surplus seemed to worry Smyrna. There were manyholders of town notes for small amounts, a safe investment that paidsix per cent. And escaped taxation. These people didn't want to bepaid. In many cases their fathers had loaned the money to the town, and the safe and sound six per cent. Seemed an heirloom too sacredto be disturbed. 

Cap'n Sproul's too-zealous thrift annoyed his townsmen. To have thetown owe money made individual debtors feel that owing money was nota particularly heinous offence. To have the town free of debt mightstart too enterprising rivalry in liquidation. 

Therefore, for the first time in his life, Consetena Tate found oneof his wild notions adopted, and gasped in profound astonishment atthe alacrity of his townsmen. Consetena Tate had unwittinglystumbled upon a solution of that "surplus" difficulty. He wasn'tthinking of the surplus. He was too utterly impractical for that. He was a tall, gangling, effeminate, romantic, middle-aged man whomhis parents still supported and viewed with deference as a superiorpersonality. He was Smyrna's only literary character. 

He made golden weddings gay with lengthy epics that detailed thelives of the celebrants; he brought the dubious cheer of his versesto house-warmings, church sociables, and other occasions when Smyrnafound itself in gregarious mood; he soothed the feelings of mournersby obituary lines that appeared in print in the county paper whenthe mourners ordered enough extra copies to make it worth theeditor's while. Added to this literary gift was an artistic one. Consetena had painted half a dozen pictures that were displayed everyyear 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 confidentprediction that some day the outside world would know him andappreciate him. 

A flicker of this coming fame seemed to dance on Consetena's polishedbrow when he wrote a piece for the county paper, heralding the factthat Smyrna was one hundred years old that year. 

Mr. Tate, having plenty of leisure to meditate on those matters, hadthought of this fact before any one else in town remembered it. Hewrote another article urging that the town fittingly celebrate theevent. The Women's Temperance Workers discussed the matter andconcurred. It would give them an opportunity to have a tent-sale offood 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 honestpenny. The Smyrna Ancient and Honorable Firemen's Association, HiramLook foreman, was very enthusiastic. A celebration would affordopportunity to parade and hold a muster. 

The three uniformed secret societies in town, having an ever-lurkingzest for public exhibition behind a brass-band, canvassed theprospect delightedly. The trustees of the Agricultural Fair andGents' Driving Association could see a most admirable opening fora June horse-trot. 

In fact, with those inducements and with motives regarding the"surplus" spurring them on secretly, all the folks of Smyrna roseto the occasion with a long, loud shout for the celebration--andsuggested that the "surplus" be expended in making a holiday thatwould be worth waiting one hundred years for. 

After that shout, and as soon as he got his breath, the voice of FirstSelectman Aaron Sproul was heard. He could not make as much noiseas the others, but the profusion of expletives with which hegarnished his declaration that the town's money should not be spentthat 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 afterhim, and Hiram Look--a betrayal of long friendship that touched theCap'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 theboar in its last stronghold, face livid and hairy fists flailing thescattered papers of his big table. But across the table was HiramLook, just as intense, the unterrified representative of theproletariat, 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 bespent by 'em! You're talkin' as though it was your own privatebank-account. "

"I want you to understand, " the Cap'n shouted back with just as muchvigor--"it ain't any jack-pot, nor table-stakes, nor prize put upfor 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 providedsports for the people, and it helped him hold his job. Hist'ry tellsyou so. "

"There ain't any hist'ry about this, " the selectman retorted withemphasis. "It's here, now, present, and up to date. And I can giveyou 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 wordsbetween his teeth, "you've been talkin' for a year past that they'dpushed this job of selectman onto you, and that you didn't proposeto hold it. "

"Mebbe I did, " agreed the Cap'n. "Most like I did, for that's theway I feel about it. "

"Then s'pose you resign and let me take the job and run it the wayit ought to be run?"

"How would that be--a circus every week-day and a sacred concertSundays? Judging from your past life and your present talk I don'treckon you'd know how to run anything any different!" This taunt asto his life-work in the show business and his capability stirred allof Hiram's venom. 

"I've come here to tell ye, " he raged, "that the citizens of thistown to a man want ye to resign as first selectman, and let some onein 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 whenI 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 ifI'll get out, now that they're tryin' to drive me out. I'm interestedenough now to stay. "

"Say, did you ever try to drive a hog?" demanded the irate oldcircus-man. 

"Yes, " said the Cap'n, imperturbably, "I'm tryin' it now--tryin' todrive a whole litter of 'em away from the trough where they want toeat 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 stampedout of the town-house. 

As they had done once before in the annals of his office, the othertwo selectmen made a party with Sproul's opposers. They signed a callfor a special town-meeting. It was held, and an uproarious_viva-voce_ vote settled the fate of the surplus. In the rush ofpopular excitement the voters did not stop to reflect on the legalaspects of the question. Law would not have sanctioned such adisposal of town money, even with such an overwhelming majoritybehind the movement. But Cap'n Sproul still held to his ancient andingrained fear of lawyers. He remained away from the meeting and letmatters take their course. 

Hiram, still captain of the revolutionists, felt his heart growsofter 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 firstselectman's house and bearded the sullen autocrat in hissitting-room. He felt that the peace of the Cap'n's home was bettersuited to be the setting of overtures of friendship than the angularinterior of the town office. 

"Cap, " he said, appealingly, "they've gone and done it, and all thesentiment of the town is one way in the matter. What's the use ofbuckin' your own people as you are doin'? Get onto the band-wagonalong 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 moneyhere. It will be a good time all 'round. It will give the town a goodname. Now, that money is goin' to be spent! I've made you chairmanof the whole general committee--as first selectman. You'll have theprincipal say as to how the money is goin' to be spent. As long'sit'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 hascaptured this town on the high seas--and you rub it onto yourcarkisses where it will do the most good, " snorted the Cap'n. "Lightcigars with it--feed it to your elephant--send it up in a balloon--Idon't give a kihooted dam what you do with it. But don't you try toenlist me under the skull and cross-bones!"

After this unpromising fashion did the conference begin. It was inprogress at noon--and Hiram remained to dinner. Breaking bread witha friend has a consolatory effect--that cannot be denied. When theywere smoking after dinner, the first selectman grudgingly consentedto take charge of spending the money. He agreed finally with Hiramthat with him--the Cap'n--on the safety-valve, mere wastefulfolderols might be avoided--and the first selectman had seen enoughof the temper of his constituents to fear for consequences shouldthey 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 actwith you and advise. "

"I'd ruther try to steer a raft of lashed hen-coops from here to BonisAirs and back, under a barkentine rig, " snapped the Cap'n. "I knowthe kind o' critters they be. We won't get nowhere!"

"I had to put 'em onto the committee, " apologized the people'srepresentative. "But, you see, you and the secretary will dopractically all the work. All you've got to do is just to make 'emthink they're workin'. But you and the secretary will be the wholething. "

"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 heexplained--"it sort of had to be done, to please the people, becausehe's the feller that thought it up--and he's the only lit'ry chapwe've got in town, and he--"

Cap'n Sproul got up and held his pipe away from his face so that nosmoke-cloud could intervene. 

"Do you mean to tell me, " he raved, "that you've gone to work andpinned me into the same yoke with that long-legged cross between ablue heron and a monkey-wrench that started this whole infernaltreasury steal?"

"Consetena--" began Hiram. 

The Cap'n dashed his clay pipe upon the brick hearth and ground thebits under his heel. 

"I ain't any hand to make love to Portygee sailors, " he cried; "Idon't believe I could stand it to hold one on my knee more'n halfan 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 manthat writes portry and lets his folks support him. I've heard of thatConcert--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 thisthing together? Say, look here, Hiram! You say a few more things likethat to me and I shall reckon you're tryin' to give me apoplexy andget rid of me that way!"

Hiram sighed. His car of hopes so laboriously warped to the top summitof success had been sluiced to the bottom. But he understood thetemper of the populace of Smyrna in those piping days better thanCap'n Sproul did. Consetena Tate was not to be put aside with a waveof the hand. 

Hiram began again. At first he talked to deaf ears. He even had todrown out contumely. But his arguments were good! Consetena Tatecould write the many letters that would be necessary. There were manyorganizations to invite to town, many prominent citizens of thecounty to solicit, for the day would not shine without the presenceof notables. There was all the work of that sort to be done with thedelicate touch of the literary man--work that the Cap'n could notdo. Mr. Tate had earned the position--at least the folks in townthought he had--and demanded him as the man through whom they couldaccomplish all epistolary effects. 

In the end Hiram won the Cap'n over even to this concession. The Cap'nwas too weary to struggle farther against what seemed to be his horriddestiny. 

"I'll have him at town office to-morrow mornin', " declared Hiram, grabbing at the first growl that signified submission. "You'll findhim meek and humble and helpful--I know you will. " Then he promptlyhurried away before the Cap'n revived enough to change his mind. 

Cap'n Sproul found his new secretary on the steps of the town officethe next morning, and scowled on him. Mr. Tate wore a little blackhat cocked on his shaggy mane, and his thin nose was blue in the crispair of early May. He sat on the steps propping a big portfolio onhis knees. His thin legs outlined themselves against his baggytrousers with the effect of broomsticks under cloth. 

He arose and followed the sturdy old seaman into the office. He satdown, still clinging to the portfolio, and watched the Cap'n builda fire in the rusty stove. The selectman had returned no answer tothe 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 outof the darkness--"

"Three-stickers don't usually luff very long when they're hailed bypunts, " grunted the old skipper. 

"There is a common ground on which all may meet, " insisted Mr. Tate;"I frequently inaugurate profitable conversations and lay thefoundations of new friendships this way: Who are your favoritepoets?"

"Say, now, look here!" blurted the Cap'n, coming away from the stoveand dusting his hard hands together; "you've been rammed into mythroat, and I'm havin' pretty blamed hard work to swallow you. I maybe able to do it if you don't daub on portry. Now, if you've got anyidea what you're here for and what you're goin' to do, you get atit. Do you know?"

"I had ventured upon a little plan, " said Mr. Tate, meekly. "I thoughtthat first of all I would arrange the literary programme for the day, the oration, the poem, the various addresses, and I already have alittle schedule to submit to you. I have a particular request to make, Cap'n Sproul. I wish that you, as chairman of the committee, woulddesignate 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 acontinental thunderation about your programmy or your speech-makers--noteven if you go dig up old Dan'l Webster and set him on the stand. Ididn't start this thing, and I ain't approvin' of it. I'm simplygrabbin' in on it so that I can make sure that the fools of this townwon'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 tobe humble and helpful. Cap'n Sproul busied himself with a little pileof smudgy account-books, each representing a road district of thetown. He was adding "snow-bills. " Mr. Tate gazed forlornly on thefiercely puckered brow and "plipping" lips, and heard the low growlof profanity as the Cap'n missed count on a column and had to startover again. Then Mr. Tate sighed and opened his portfolio. He satstaring above it at the iron visage of the first selectman, whofinally grew restive under this espionage. 

"Say, look-a-here, Pote Tate, " he growled, levelling flaming eyesacross 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' tohave 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. "Goahead 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'vegot to have stationery printed with the names of the committee onit--you as chairman, per Consetena Tate, secretary. "

"Go across to the printin'-office and have some struck off, " directedthe selectman. "If havin' some paper to write on will get you busyenough so't you won't set there starin' me out of countenance, itwill be a good investment. "

For the next few days Mr. Tate was quite successful in keeping himselfout from under foot, so the Cap'n grudgingly admitted to Hiram. Hefound a little stand in a corner of the big room and doubled himselfover it, writing letters with patient care. The first ones heventured to submit to the Cap'n before sealing them. But the chairmanof 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. " Hepiled the letters, sealed, before the Cap'n, and the latter countedthem carefully and issued stamps with scrupulous exactness. Repliescame in printed return envelopes; but, though they bore his name, Cap'n Sproul scornfully refused to touch one of them. The sternattitude that he had assumed toward the Smyrna centennialcelebration was this: Toleration, as custodian of the funds; butparticipation, never!

During many hours of the day Mr. Tate did not write, but sat and gazedat the cracked ceiling with a rapt expression that made the Cap'nnervous. The Cap'n spoke of this to Hiram. 

"That feller ain't right in his head, " said the selectman. "He setsthere hours at a time, like a hen squattin' on duck-eggs, lookin'up cross-eyed. I was through an insane horsepittle once, and theyhad patients there just like that. I'd just as soon have a bullheadsnake in the room with me. "

"He's gettin' up his pome, that's all, " Hiram explained. "I've seenlit'ry folks in my time. They act queer, but there ain't any harmin 'em. "

"That may be, " allowed the Cap'n, "but I shall be almighty glad whenthis centennial is over and I can get Pote Tate out of that corner, and put the broom and poker back there, and have something sensibleto look at. "

Preparations for the great event went on smartly. The varioussocieties and interests conferred amicably, and the whole centennialday was blocked out, from the hundred guns at early dawn to the lastsputter of the fireworks at midnight. And everything and every onecalled for money; money for prizes, for souvenirs for entertainmentof visitors, for bands, for carriages--a multitude of items, all tobe settled for when the great event was over. If Cap'n Sproul hadhoped to save a remnant of his treasure-fund he was soon undeceived. Perspiring over his figures, he discovered that there wouldn't beenough 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 fallenafter delivering to his chairman a great pile of sealed letters tobe counted for stamps. 

"What do I understand by all these bushels of epistles to theGalatians 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 namesthat you've backed on these envelopes, and there isn't one of 'emI 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 hisamazement. He shuffled the letters to and fro, tapping his thinfinger on the superscriptions. "Oh, you must be joking, CaptainSproul, 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 answermy question. "

"Why, they are great poets, authors, orators--the great minds of thecountry. They--"

"Well, they ain't all mind, be they? They're hearty eaters, ain'tthey? 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 blastedgrasshoppers you've gone to work and managed to tole in here to befed? I'm just wakin' up to the resks we're runnin', and it makes mesweat cold water. " He glanced apprehensively at the papers bearinghis computations. 

"All the replies I have received so far have been regrets, " murmuredMr. Tate, sorrowfully. "I took the greatest names first. I wasambitious for our dear town, Captain. I went directly to the highestfounts. Perhaps I looked too high. They have all sent regrets. I haveto confess that I have not yet secured the orator of the day nor anyof 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 thislunatic fandango, " said the Cap'n, with soulful thanksgiving. "Doyou think there's any in this last mess that 'll be li'ble to comeif they're asked?"

"I have been gradually working down the scale of greatness, but I'mafraid I have still aimed too high, " confessed Mr. Tate. "Yet theeffort is not lost by any means. " His eyes kindled. "All my life, Captain Sproul, I have been eager for the autographs of greatmen--that I might gaze upon the spot of paper where their mighty handshave rested to write. I have succeeded beyond my fondest dreams. Ihave a collection of autograph letters that make my heart swell withpride. "

"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 grewpaler. After his first batch of letters had brought those returnsfrom the regretful great he had been recklessly scatteringinvitations from the Atlantic to the Pacific--appealing invitationsdone in his best style, and sanctioned by the aegis of a committeeheaded by "Captain Sproul, Chairman. " Such unbroken array ofdeclinations heartened him in his quest, and he was reaping hishalcyon harvest as rapidly as he could. 

"I was going to put them on exhibition at the centennial, and makethem the great feature of the day, " mumbled the poet, apologetically. 

"So do! So do!" advised the Cap'n with bitter irony. "I can see aramjam rush of the people away from the tub-squirt, right in themiddle of it, to look at them autographs. I can see 'em askin' theband to stop playin' so that they can stand and meditate on themletters. It'll bust up the hoss-trot. Folks won't want to get awayfrom 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 theother 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 andhard cider will jest love to set down with you and study autographsall day!"

Mr. Tate flushed under the satire by which the Cap'n was expressinghis general disgust at Smyrna's expensive attempt to celebrate. Heexhibited 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 theprogress of a hundred years? I fear Smyrna is forgetting the mainpoint of the celebration. "

"Don't you worry any about that, Pote, " snapped the selectman. "Noone round here is losin' sight of the main point. Main point is forchurches and temperance workers and wimmen's auxiliaries to sell asmuch grub as they can to visitors, and for citizens to parade roundbehind a brass-band like mules with the spring-halt, and to spendthe money that I had ready to clear off the town debt. And if anyone thinks about the town bein' a hundred years old, it'll be nextmornin' when he wakes up and feels that way himself. You and me isthe losin' minority this time, Pote. I didn't want it at all, andyou want it something diff'runt. " He looked the gaunt figure up anddown 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 bespent, this is about the innocentest way of spendin' it, " hemuttered. 

XXXII

As the great occasion drew nearer, Mr. Tate redoubled his epistolaryefforts. He was goaded by two reasons. He had not secured his notablesfor the literary programme; he would soon have neither excuse norstamps for collecting autographs. He descended into the lower levelsof genius and fame. He wound up his campaign of solicitation witha stack of letters that made the Cap'n gasp. But the chairman gaveout the stamps with a certain amount of savage satisfaction in doingit, for some of the other hateful treasury-raiders would have to gowithout, and he anticipated that Poet Tate, suggester of the piracy, would meet up with proper retribution from his own ilk when thecommittee in final round-up discovered how great an inroad theautograph-seeker had made in the funds. The Cap'n had shrewdfore-vision as to just how Smyrna would view the expenditure of moneyin that direction. 

For the first time, he gazed on his secretary with a sort of kindlylight in his eyes, realizing and relishing the part that Consetenawas playing. On his own part, Poet Tate welcomed this single gleamof kindly feeling, as the Eskimo welcomes the first glimpse of thevernal 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 ofit. It begins"--he clutched the bulky manuscript in shakinghands--"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'nSproul, balefully. 

"It is my poem! I am about to read it to you, to offer it to you ashead of our municipality. I will read it to you. "

The Cap'n waited for the explanation patiently. He seemed to wantto make sure of the intended enormity of the offence. He eveninquired: "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 everbeen brought in very close touch with deep-water sailors, and don'tknow what they've had to contend with, and how their dispositionsget 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'vebeen takin'. Just one ordinary back-handed wallop, such as would onlytickle a Portygee sailor, would mean wreaths and a harp for you! ThankGod, I haven't ever forgot myself, not yet. Lay that pome back, andtie them covers together with a hard knot. "

The Cap'n's ominous calm, his evident effort to repress even a loudtone, troubled Poet Tate more than violence would have done. He tookhimself and his portfolio away. As he licked his stamps in thepost-office he privately confided to the postmistress his convictionthat Cap'n Sproul was not exactly in his right mind at all times, thus unconsciously reciprocating certain sentiments of his chairmanregarding the secretary's sanity. 

"I don't think I'll go back to the office, " said Mr. Tate. "I havewritten all my letters. All those that come here in printed envelopesfor 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 thatalthough genius in the higher altitudes is not easily come at, andresponds by courteous declinations and regrets, genius in the lowerlevels is still desirous of advertising and an opportunity to shine, and can be cajoled by promise of refunded expenses and lavishentertainment as guest of the municipality. 

The last batch of letters of invitation, distributed among thoselower levels of notability, elicited the most interesting autographletters of all; eleven notables accepted the invitation to deliverthe oration of the day; a dozen or so announced that they would bepresent and speak on topics connected with the times, and one andall assured Captain Aaron Sproul that they thoroughly appreciatedhis courtesy, and looked forward to a meeting with much pleasure, and trusted, etc. , etc. 

Poet Tate, mild, diffident, unpractical Poet Tate, who in all hislife had never been called upon to face a crisis, did not face thisone. 

The bare notion of going to Cap'n Aaron Sproul and confessing madehis brain reel. The memory of the look in the Cap'n's eyes, evokedby so innocent a proposition as the reading of six thousand linesof poetry to him, made Mr. Tate's fluttering heart bang against hisribs. 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 besidesdreams, might have headed off the notables. But in his panic PoetTate became merely a frightened child with the single impulse to fleefrom 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 greatday, and the blackness swallowed him up. Uneasy urchins in thedistant village were already popping the first firecrackers of thecelebration. Poet Tate groaned, and fled. 

Cap'n Aaron Sproul arrived at the town office next morning in a frameof mind distinctly unamiable. Though his house was far out of thevillage, the unearthly racket of the night had floated up tohim--squawking horns, and clanging bells, and exploding powder. Thehundred cannons at sunrise brought a vigorous word for eachreverberation. At an early hour Hiram Look had come over, gay in hispanoply as chief of the Ancient and Honorables, and repeated hisinsistent demand that the Cap'n ride at the head of the parade inan imported barouche, gracing the occasion as head of themunicipality. 

"The people demand it, " asseverated Hiram with heat. "The people haverights 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 asthough 'twas aigs?"

"It's one of my plug hats that I was goin' to lend you, " explainedhis friend, cheerily. "I've rigged it up with a cockade. I figgerthat we can't any of us be too festal on a day like this. I know youain't no ways taken to plug hats; but when a man holds office andthe people look to him for certain things, he has to bow down to thepeople. We're goin' to have a great and glorious day of this, Cap, "he cried, all his showman's soul infected by gallant excitement, andenthusiasm glowing in his eyes. It was a kind of enthusiasm that Cap'nSproul's gloomy soul resented. 

"I've had consid'able many arguments with you, Hiram, over thisaffair, 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 thatdamnation stove-funnel hat; I won't ride in any baroosh; I won't makespeeches; I won't set up on any platform. I'll simply set in townoffice and 'tend to my business, and draw orders on the treasury topay bills, as fast as bills are presented. That's what I started outto do, and that's all I will do. And if you don't want to see me jibeand all go by the board, you keep out of my way with your plug hatsand barooshes. And it might be well to inform inquirin' friends tothe 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 sturdysea-gait. Dodging firecrackers that sputtered and banged in thehighway about his feet, and cursing soulfully, he gained the townoffice and grimly sat himself down. 

He knew when the train from down-river and the outside world hadarrived by the riotous accessions to the crowds without in the square. Firemen in red shirts thronged everywhere. Men who wore featheredhats and tawdry uniforms filled the landscape. He gazed on them withunutterable 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 inquiredwhether 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 ofreception at the station to meet me, " said the stranger, in mildrebuke. "There was not even a carriage there. But I suppose it wasan oversight, due to the rush of affairs to-day. "

The Cap'n still scowled at him, not in the least understanding whythis stranger should expect to be carted into the village from therailroad. 

"I will introduce myself. I am Professor William Wilson Waverley, orator of the day; I have had some very pleasant correspondence withyou, 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 anyletter, unless I got up in my sleep and done it. "

With wonderment and some irritation growing on his face, the strangerpulled out a letter and laid it before the Cap'n. 

The selectman studied it long enough to see that it was an earnestinvitation 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 aboutnot havin' seen it before might have sounded a little queer, butthere'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, allof them with set faces and indignant demeanors. The Cap'n was notwell posted on the breed of literati, but with half an eye he notedthat these were not the ordinary sort of men. There were more silkhats, there were broad-brimmed hats, there was scrupulousness inattire, there was the disarray of Bohemianism. And it was plainlyevident that these later arrivals had had word of conference witheach other. Each held a "Per Consetena Tate" letter in his hand. 

"I have met with some amazing situations in my time--in real lifeand in romance, " stated a hard-faced man who had evidently beenselected as spokesman. "But this seems so supremely without parallelthat I am almost robbed of expression. Here are ten of us, each havingthe same identical letter of invitation to deliver the oration ofthe day here on this occasion. "

"Ten, did you say? Eleven, " said the first-comer. "Here is myletter. "

"And the others have invitations to deliver discourses, " went on thespokesman, severely. "As your name is signed to all these letters, Captain Aaron Sproul, first selectman of Smyrna, perhaps you willdeign to explain to us what it all means. "

Cap'n Sproul arose and then sat down; arose and sat down again. Hetried to speak, but only a husky croak came forth. Something seemedto have crawled into his throat--something fuzzy and filling, thatwould not allow language to pass. 

"Here are more than twenty prominent men, seduced from their manifoldduties, called away up here to satisfy the rural idea of a joke--or, at least, I can see no other explanation, " proceeded the hard-facedman. "It might be remarked in passing that the joke will be anexpensive one for this town. Eleven distinguished men called hereto deliver one oration in a one-horse town!"

The Cap'n did not like the bitter irony of his tone, and recoveredhis voice enough to say, "You might cut the cards or spit at a crack, gents, to see which onedoes deliver the oration. " But the pleasantry did not evoke any smilefrom that disgusted assemblage. 

"It is safe to say that after this hideous insult not one of us willspeak, " declared one of the group. "But I for one would like somelight on the insane freak that prompted this performance. As you areat the head of this peculiar community, we'd like you to speak forit. "

Somewhat to his own surprise, Cap'n Sproul did not find in himselfany especially bitter animosity toward Mr. Tate, just then, searchhis soul as he might. 

These "lit'ry fellows, " cajoled by one of their own ilk into thisunspeakable muddle, were, after all, he reflected, of the sort hehad scorned with all his sailor repugnance to airs and pretensions. Cap'n Sproul possessed a peculiarly grim sense of humor. Thisindignant assemblage appealed to that sense. 

"Gents, " he said, standing up and propping himself on the table byhis knuckles, "there are things in this world that are deep mysteries. Of course, men like you reckon you know most everything there is tobe known. But you see that on the bottom of each letter you have, there are the words: 'Per Consetena Tate. ' There's where the mysteryis in this case. "

"I imagine it isn't so deep a mystery but that we can understand itif you will explain, " said the spokesman, coldly. 

"There's where you are mistaken, " declared the Cap'n. "It would takea long time to tell you the inside of this thing, and even then youwouldn't know which, what, or whuther about it. " In his heart Cap'nSproul was resolved that he would not own up to these strangers thepart his own negligence had played. He reflected for his consolationthat he had not projected the centennial celebration of Smyrna. Itoccurred to him with illuminating force that he had pledged himselfto only one thing: to pay the bills of the celebration as fast asthey were presented to him. Consetena Tate was the secretary the townhad foisted on his committee. Consetena Tate had made definitecontracts. 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 toorate? That is entirely satisfactory to me--for I ain't runnin' thatpart. I'm here to pay bills. Each one of you make out his bill andreceipt it. Then come with me to the town treasurer's office. "

The tumultuous throngs that spied Cap'n Sproul leading that file ofdistinguished men to Broadway's store--Broadway being treasurer ofSmyrna--merely gazed with a flicker of curiosity and turned againto their sports, little realizing just what effect that file of menwas to have on the financial sinews of those sports. Cap'n Sproulscarcely realized it himself until all the returns were in. He simplyhoped, that's all! And his hopes were more than justified. 

"My Gawd, Cap'n, " gasped Odbar Broadway when the notables hadreceived their money and had filed out, "what does this mean? Thereain't more'n a hundred dollars left of the surplus fund, and thereain't any of the prizes and appropriations paid yet! Who be themplug-hatters from all over God's creation, chalkin' up railroadfares 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. "Themvouchers 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 theofficial 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 enoughof that fund left to settle the committee bill here at my store. HaveI got to share pro raty?"

"Pay yourself and clean it out. I'll countersign your bill, " declaredthe 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, withdeep content. 

He had been some hours asleep that night when vigorous poundings onhis door awoke him, and when at last he appeared on his piazza hefound a large and anxious delegation of citizens filling his yard. 

"Cap'n, " bleated one of the committee, "Broadway says there ain'tany money to pay prizes with. "

"Vouchers is all right. Money paid on contracts signed by yourofficial 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, " advisedthe 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. Heturned to go in. 

"But how are we goin' to get the money to pay up for the sports, thefireworks, and things?"

"Them that hires fiddlers and dances all day and night must expectto pay said fiddlers, " announced the Cap'n, oracularly. "I reckonyou'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 soberas the cricket when he was departing from the door of the thriftyant. 

XXXIII

First Selectman Sproul halted for a few moments on the steps of thetown house the next morning in order to gaze out surlily on theleft-overs of that day of celebration. Smyrna's village square wasunsightly with a litter of evil-smelling firecracker remnants, withtorn paper bags, broken canes, dented tin horns and all the usualflotsam marking the wake of a carnival crowd. 

Constable Nute came tramping to him across this untidy carpeting anddirected his attention to the broken windows in the town house andin 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 thatwould cheat 'em out of prize-money that they came down here all ingood faith to get. And I don't blame 'em to any great extent. "

"Nor I, either, " agreed the Cap'n with a readiness that surprisedMr. Nute. "A town that doesn't pay its bills ought to be ashamed ofitself. "

The constable backed away a few steps and stared at this amazingdetractor. 

"I paid bills prompt and honest just as long as there was any moneyto 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, voicingthe protest of Smyrna. "The least you could have done was to makethem plug-hatters share pro raty with the fire-company boys--and thefire-company boys furnished the show; them plug-hatters didn't. "

"It's always been my rule to pay a hundred cents on the dollar, andI paid the hundred cents so long as the cash lasted. Go hunt up yourPote 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 nobusiness in givin' a cussed fool like him so much power. If I hadcut up the caper he has I'd have stayed away, but he's back for hisfolks to support him some more. He didn't even have gumption enoughto beg vittles. "

"Well, this town has had a hearty meal, and all is I hope it won'tfeel hungry for celebrations till it's time for the next centennial, "observed the Cap'n. "There's one thing about this affair that I'mgoin' to praise--it was hearty and satisfyin'. It has dulled thecelebratin' appetite in this town for some time. " He went into townoffice. 

The constable followed and laid a paper before him. It was a petitionof citizens for a special town-meeting; and there being a sufficientnumber of names on the paper, it became a matter of duty for Cap'nSproul to call the meeting prayed for. 

He quietly proceeded to draw up the necessary notice. Nute evidentlyexpected that the Cap'n would promptly understand the meaning of theproposed meeting and would burst into violent speech. But theselectman hummed an old sea chanty while he hunted for a blank, andsmiled as he penned the document. 

"Committee has been to Squire Alcander Reeves to get some law on thething, " proceeded Nute, disappointed by this lack of interest inaffairs. "Reeves says that since the show was advertised as a townshindig the town has got to stand behind and fid up for the moneythat's shy. Says it ain't supposed to fall on the committees to payfor what the town's beholden for. "

"Let 'em go ahead and settle it to suit all hands, " remarked the firstselectman, 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 waitingon the platform of Odbar Broadway's store for the first selectmanto appear and open the town office. Hiram Look had marshalled themthere. Now he led them across the square and they filed into theoffice. 

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 thesignatures of the two associate selectmen had been secured. 

Then to his surprise Hiram Look received an extremely benignant smilefrom 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 invitedto 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 billsand take the cuss off'm this town of welchin' on a straightproposition to outsiders who came down here all in good faith afterprizes. "

"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 morescience 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 thebrunt every time there's been anything that needed to be handledproper, you've got to admit all what you've said, Mr. Look, " assentedanother of the party. 

"We know now that it was by Tate forgin' your name and runnin' thingsunderhanded that the town got into the scrape it did, " Hiram wenton. "Them bills had to be paid to keep outsiders slingin' slurs atus. You done just right. The town will have to meet and vote moremoney to pay the rest of the bills. But probably it won't come ashard as we think. What I was goin' to ask you, Cap'n Sproul, waswhether there ain't an overplus in some departments? We can use thatmoney 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 paythem 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 meetand vote the money and then we can sit back and take comfort inthinkin' that there's just the right man at the head of town affairsto economize us back onto Easy Street. " He was eager to flatter. "Thistown understands what kind of a man it wants to keep in office. Itake back all I ever said about opposin' you, Cap'n. "

"And that's the general sentiment of the town, " affirmed OdbarBroadway. 

The face of the first selectman did not indicate that he wasespecially 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 thedebts of this town and have had the cash yanked away from me likehoney out of a hive, I'm supposed to start in all over again and doa 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--youhave done it--but this is where this partickler little busy bee stopsmakin' honey for the town of Smyrna to lap up at one mouthful. Thatspecial town-meetin' comes along all handy for me. You notice I ain'tobjectin' to havin' it held. "

Constable Nute, who had been looking puzzled ever since the selectmanhad signed the call for the meeting, perked up with the interest ofone who is about to hear a mystery explained. 

"For, " the Cap'n went on, "I was goin' to call one on my own hookso that I can resign this office. I serve notice on you now that whenthis town touches dock at that meetin' I step ashore with my littledunnage 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 yougather 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 checkedfurther expostulation. Hiram angrily led them out after a fewmuttered expletives. 

"I've heard of contrary tantryboguses in my time, " stated Broadwaywhen they were back at his store, "but that feller over there hasgot all of 'em backed into the stall. This town better wake up. We'velet ourselves be bossed around by him as though Smyrna was riggedout with masts and sails and he was boss of the quarter-deck. Giveme a first selectman that has got less brustles. "

It was the first word of a general revolt. It is the nature of manto pretend that he does not desire what he cannot get. The votersof Smyrna took that attitude. 

On the eve of the projected town-meeting Hiram Look strolled overto call on his friend Sproul. The latter had been close at home fordays, informing his loyal wife that for the first time since he hadsettled ashore he was beginning to appreciate what peace and quietmeant. 

"I don't know how it happened, " he informed Hiram, "how I ever letmyself be pull-hauled as much as I've been. Why, I haven't had timeallowed 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 beenbeatin' into a head wind of hoorah-ste-boy ever since. From now onI'll show you a man that's settled down to enjoy life!"

"That's the right way for you to feel, " affirmed Hiram. "You takea 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'recoaxin' you to stay. If I'd stayed in till they got to growlin' aroundand wantin' to put me out I'd have to walk up and down in this townlike 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 mein. "

"You ought to travel out around this town a little, " returned hisfriend, grimly. "The way they're talkin' now you'd think they wasgoin' 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 justas 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. Fora 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 admitthat. 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 itto you. They're glad you're goin' out. You couldn't be electedhog-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 intown-meetin' to-morrow when you hand in your resignation I'll be muchsurprised. "

"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 allof a sudden and realized it didn't like your style of managin'. Theway 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'lyit doesn't interest you--but you can trot around and find out foryourself, if it does. "

The first selectman, his eyes gleaming, the horn of gray hair thathe twisted in moments of mental stress standing straight up, roseand 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 meout of office! They'll discover they haven't got any Kunnel Gid Wardto deal with!"

"But you said you were out of politics, Aaron!" Dismay and grief werein her tones. "I want you for myself, husband. You promised me. Idon't want you to go back into politics. "

"I hain't ever been out of politics yet, " he retorted. "And if thereare any men in this town that think I'm down and out they'll haveanother guess comin'. "

He marched out of the house, leaving his visiting friend in mostcavalier 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 priceof lemons, and the circus business is some raspy on the generaldisposition. But since I've known your husband I've come to theconclusion 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 scrubbedhis plug hat against his elbow and started for the door. "I'd beenthinkin' that if ever I'd run up against a man that really wantedto shuck office that man was your husband. I reckoned he really knewwhat he wanted part of the time. "

"Can't you go after him and make him change his mind back?" shepleaded. 

"The voters of this town will attend to that. I was tellin' him thestraight truth. If he don't get it passed to him hot off the bat whenhe tackles 'em, then I'm a sucker. You needn't worry, marm. He'llhave plenty of time to 'tend to his garden sass this summer. "

It was midnight when Cap'n Sproul returned to an anxious and waitingwife. He was flushed and hot and hoarse, but the gleam in his eyewas no longer that of offended pride and ireful resolve. There wastriumph in his glance. 

"If there's a bunch of yaller dogs think they can put me out of officein 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 insistedthat you were going to resign--you said--"

"It didn't make any diff'runce what I said--when I said it thingswas headed into the wind and all sails was drawin' and I was on mycourse. But you let some one try to plunk acrost my bows when I'mon the starboard tack, and have got right of way, well, more or lesstophamper 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 fromthree-quarters of the voters that when I pass in my resignationto-morrow they'll vote that they won't accept it and will ask me tokeep on in office for the good of Smyrna. This town won't get a chanceto yoke me up with your brother Gid and point us out as a steer teamnamed 'Down and Out!' He's 'Down' but I ain't 'Out' yet, not by adam--excuse me, Louada Murilla! But I've been mixin' into politicsand talkin' political talk. "

"And I had so hoped you were out of it, " she sighed, as she followedhim to their repose. 

She watched him make ready and depart for town hall the next morningwithout comment, but the wistful look in her eyes spoke volumes. Cap'n Sproul was silent with the air of a man with big events frontinghim. 

She watched the teams jog along the highway toward the village. Shesaw them returning in dusty procession later in the forenoon--signalthat the meeting was over and the voters were returning to theirhomes. 

In order to beguile the monotony of waiting she hunted up theblank-book in which she had begun to write "The Life Story of GallantCaptain Aaron Sproul. " She read the brief notes that she had beenable to collect from him and reflected with bitterness that therewas little hope of securing much more data from a man tied up withthe public affairs of a town which exacted so much from its firstselectman. 

Upon her musings entered Cap'n Sproul, radiant, serene. He bent andkissed her after the fashion of the days of the honeymoon. 

"Whew!" he whistled, sitting down in a porch chair and gazing offacross the blue hills. "It's good to get out of that steam and stewdown in that hall. I say, Louada Murilla, there ain't in this wholeworld a much prettier view than that off acrost them hills. It's agood 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 wonderingattention. 

"They wouldn't accept that resignation, " he said with greatsatisfaction. "It was unanimous. Them yaller dogs never showedthemselves. Yes, s'r, unanimous, and a good round howl of a hurrahat that! Ought to have been there and seen the expression on Hiram'sface! I reckon I've shown him a few things in politics that will lasthim for an object-lesson. "

"I suppose they'll want to keep you in for life, now, " she said withpatient resignation. "And I had so hoped--"

She did not finish. He looked at her quizzically for a little whileand her expression touched him. 

"I was intendin' to string the agony out and keep you on tenter-hooksa little spell, Louada Murilla, " he went on. "But I hain't got theheart to do it. All is, they wouldn't accept that resignation, justas I've told you. It makes a man feel pretty good to be as popularas 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 politicsa little--but you've got to take things in this world just as they'rehanded to you. I stood up and made a speech and I thanked 'em--andit was a pretty good speech. "

He paused and narrowed his eyes and dwelt fondly for a moment on thememory of the triumph. 

"But when you're popular in a town and propose to spend your lastdays in that town and want to stay popular and happy and contentedthere's nothin' like clinchin' the thing. So here's what I done thereand 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 interestin the old town and wantin' to see her sail on full and by and allmuslin drawin' and no barnacles of debt on the bottom, I'd donateout of my pocket enough to pay up all them prizes and pursescontracted for in the celebration--and then I resigned again as firstselectman. 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 thattime that they'd do anything I told 'em to do, even to lettin' meresign! And there's goin' to be a serenade to me to-night, HiramLook'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 nowon--and there's nothin' like bein' popular in the place where youlive. " 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 noteof this: One time when I was eleven days out from Boston with a cargoof woodenware bound to Australia, we run acrost a--"

THE END