The Unknown Wrestler Part 35

"Mebbe he would an' mebbe he wouldn't. But most likely he wouldn't.

Pete would have promised almost anything jist then. Anyway, the door's fixed, an' I guess it's about time we were gittin' home."

Nell looked tired as they bade her good-night. Douglas knew what a trying day it had been for her, and he admired her courage as she smilingly held out her hand to each one of them.

"I can never thank you for your kindness," she told them. "It is hard to tell what might have happened if you had not arrived when you did."

Douglas cherished the idea that Nell looked at him differently than she did at his companions, and that the clasp of her hand was firmer, and that she let it rest in his a second longer. He felt sure that he was not mistaken, and it brought a thrill to his heart.

As the three men made their way through the night, Jake kept emitting occasional exclamations, while Empty gurgled forth chuckles of delight.

Each was giving vent in his own way to his feelings over the events of the night. Douglas said nothing, but walked silently by their side.

He was thinking over more serious matters in which Ben Stubbles loomed large and ominous. He believed that the struggle between himself and the Stubbles had now reached a crisis, and that he was in a fair way of winning a victory over Ben, at least, if he advanced carefully.

It was past midnight by the time they reached home. Jake made Empty come into the house.

"We're goin' to have something to eat," he told him, "an' I know you always s.h.i.+ne when there's any grub around."

Mrs. Jukes was in bed, but it did not take Jake long to light the kitchen fire, boil some water, and prepare a pot of tea. This, with bread and jam from the pantry, formed their midnight repast, and when they were through Jake pushed back his chair and lighted his pipe.

"Great punkins!" he exclaimed, bringing his big fist down upon the table with a bang. "I wouldn't a' missed that racket to-night fer anything. I wonder what Ben'll think about it all now."

"Do you suppose the men will tell him?" Douglas asked.

"Sure. He knows all about it by now, I bet ye'r life. Most likely he was not fer off, the skunk, watchin' the hull racket. I wish to goodness I'd got the punch on his nose instead of Tom's. How I'd like to have heard him squeal, ho, ho."

"What will Ben do next, do you think?"

"It's hard to tell. But he'll do something, mark my word."

"Yes, if we don't do something first."

"What d'ye mean?"

"Simply this, that he has been attacking long enough, and it is our turn now. From what I can learn, Ben and his father have been riding over people in this parish rough-shod for years, and no one has had the courage to oppose them. It might do them a great deal of good and teach them a useful lesson if they didn't have everything their own way."

"D'ye mean to buck 'em?" Jake enquired.

"I am going to do more than buck, Jake; I am going to charge. The time for defensive warfare is over; it must be an offensive one now, and we are in a good position after this night's racket."

"What are ye goin' to do, John? How are ye goin' to charge 'em?"

"I shall tell you about that later. I am too tired and sleepy now, so I am off to bed."

As Douglas rose to leave the room, Empty stepped forward. He had been listening with eyes and ears to all that had been said, and he grinned with delight as the meaning of the offensive warfare dawned slowly upon his mind. What a choice bit of news he would have to tell his mother.

She would forgive him for being out so late when he told her all that had taken place during the night.

"Ma sent me over with a message fer you," he began.

"She did, eh?" and Douglas turned and looked upon the lad. "You are somewhat late in delivering it. Is it very important?"

"She wants to know if ye'll be good enough to come an' see her as soon as ye kin, an' bring yer fiddle with ye."

"How is Jean?" Douglas asked. Owing to the excitement of the afternoon and night he had forgotten all about the sick woman.

"Oh, I guess she's jist the same," Empty replied as he scratched the back of his head. "But ma'll tell ye 'bout her better'n I kin. Will ye come?"

"Yes, I suppose I can if she does not want me too soon. Tell your mother that I shall try to get over on Sunday. I am afraid I cannot get there before."

Douglas woke about daylight and heard the rain beating upon the roof.

How good it sounded, and he turned over and went to sleep again. It was late when he once more opened his eyes, and sprang out of bed. It was ten o'clock, and he felt ashamed of himself for having slept so long. He apologised to Mrs. Jukes when he entered the kitchen, and told her that she had better send him about his business at once, as he was a most unprofitable servant. But Mrs. Jukes only laughed, and ordered him to sit down to the table and eat his breakfast, which she had kept waiting for him.

"You deserve to sleep all day," she said, "after what you did last night. I have cooked the biggest fresh egg I could find for your breakfast as your reward."

"So Jake has told you all about it, has he?"

"Oh, yes, he told me everything this morning, and he's gone to the store to get me some starch. But he went really to hear the news.

He's anxious to know if the word has got abroad, and what people are saying about it. They generally meet at the store when anything of importance is to be talked about. I guess all the men go to get starch," she added with a twinkle in her eyes.

Jake returned from the store before Douglas had finished his breakfast, and laid the package of starch upon the table.

"What's the news this morning?" his wife asked, noting the disappointed look upon his face.

"Nuthin'," was the disgusted reply. "Not a soul in the store but the clerk."

"Isn't that strange?" his wife questioned.

"Naw, not strange when ye come to think it over. Them night prowlers wouldn't say a word; they're too dam scairt an' ashamed of themselves.

An' as fer Ben, why he'll be as close as a clam."

"What happened to the daily paper, or the special news agent, I should say?" Douglas asked.

"Who's that?"

"Empty, of course."

"Oh, I fergot him," and Jake laughed. "I guess he overslept himself this mornin'. But he'll be on his job before night, though, never fear."

"Who is the Justice of the Peace in this place?" Douglas asked, as he pushed back his chair from the table.

"Justice of the Peace!" Jake vaguely repeated. "I don't know of any sich person in this parish."

"Yes, you do," his wife replied. "It's Squire Hawkins."

"The storekeeper?" Douglas queried.

"The very same."

"Does he ever try cases?"