The Fourth Watch Part 19

"Why, Pete, of course; my hired man. He allus does that work fer me, an'

has taken dozens of 'em at various times."

"Yes, so I have heard," and Nellie's voice was charged with a warning note. "But were you not afraid of the risk you were running, Mr.

Farrington?"

"Risk? what risk? I never had any trouble. What do you mean?"

"But is Pete a constable?"

"A constable, be blowed! What are ye drivin' at?"

"Did he have a warrant from a magistrate to go to the Stickles' place, open the door, enter the barn, and try to take away that cow?"

"N-no, certainly not. But he never had one afore, an' everything was all right."

"Yes, it was all right as far as you were concerned, because no one interfered, and the people were always too poor to make a fuss. But do you know that you have laid yourself open to a grave offence? In the eyes of the law you tried to steal that cow from the Stickles."

"Girl! Girl! What do ye mean by talkin' this way?" and Farrington bounded from his chair in a rage. "Explain to me at once what ye mean by sich words!"

"There's nothing much to explain, Mr. Farrington. Without a warrant, or any legal authority, you sent your servant to break into a private barn, and lead away a cow belonging to Mr. Stickles. Because my father interfered you wish to have him arrested. I hope you see the point."

Farrington was certainly a study just then. His eyes glowered, and his face was inflamed with rage. He was in a trap and he knew it.

"Ye'll pay fer this!" he cried, stamping upon the floor, in anger.

"Ye'll--Ye'll----!"

"Very well," Nellie calmly replied. "I've simply told you your position, so now if you wish to go ahead, do so. You will know what to expect.

Perhaps I have been a better friend to you than you now imagine. Remember, we have friends, who know a thing or two, and besides, if you are not careful, something may go wrong on election day."

"Who told you this, girl?" Farrington demanded. "Who put ye up to this bizness?"

"That's my own affair. I have warned you, so go ahead if you care to. I shall say no more."

With that she turned and walked quietly out of the house, put on her snowshoes, and started on her homeward way. But the trying ordeal through which she had pa.s.sed told upon her. She trembled violently, and a great weakness came over her. She felt that she would sink down upon the snow.

How could she continue? She looked all around, but no sign of life could she behold; no one to aid her. What was she to do? She thought of her father. Was he waiting for her, perhaps wondering where she was? With a great effort she moved slowly forward, and presently found her strength returning. On and on she plodded. Never had the snowshoes seemed so heavy, or the way so long, and right glad was she to see at last the Rectory rise up large and homelike before her. She reached the door, doffed the snowshoes, entered the house, hurried to her own room, and throwing herself upon her bed, wept as if her heart would break. She was tired--oh, so tired. The tears brought a blessed relief to her surcharged feelings, and when she at length sought her father's side a sunny smile illumined her face, her step was firm, and little remained to show to a casual observer the fierce struggle through which she had recently pa.s.sed.

Chapter XVII

Hitting Back

Farrington said very little after Nellie's departure. He even surprised his wife by his coolness, for instead of raging, swearing and stamping around the house he walked quietly out into the store. Here he busied himself with various matters, and talking at times to the few customers who straggled in. When no one was present he sat on a high stool by the window and gazed out over the snow. He was not thinking of money now, nor how much his eggs and b.u.t.ter would bring. His mind was dwelling upon that scene which had just taken place. He thought nothing of the brave defence Nellie had made on behalf of her father, but only of his own wounded feelings. At times his hands would clinch, and a half-audible curse escape his lips. He would get even, oh, yes! But how? He saw the danger of going any further in connection with the Stickles' cow affair. He must let that drop. There were other ways, he was sure of that; the difficulty was to know just what to do.

The door opened, and a tall, lanky man entered, with a pair of skates dangling over his left shoulder.

"h.e.l.lo, Miles!" exclaimed Farrington, hurrying around to shake hands with him. "Haven't seen you fer an age. What's the news at Craig's Corner? Set down, you look about tuckered out."

"Should say I was," Miles drawled forth. "Never got into such a mess in all my life. Skated down river Sunday evening and was caught in that blasted snowstorm, and so am footing it back."

"Dear me, that's hard luck," and Farrington sat down upon a soap-box.

"Anyway, I'm mighty glad to see ye. Hope things are goin' well at the Corner. Much election talk, eh?"

"Considerable. The air's been full of it lately, but I guess Sunday's doings will give the folks a new subject for awhile. 'Twas certainly a stunner!"

"Why, what do ye mean, Miles? n.o.body killed, I hope."

"What! Haven't you heard anything?"

"No, how could I with the storm blockin' the roads."

"Sure. I never thought of that. But I supposed the parson let it out."

"The parson!" and Farrington's eyes opened wide with amazement. "What in the devil has he to do with it? He was brought home night afore last with his shoulder out of jint."

"Whew! You don't say so! Well, I declare!"

"Tell me what ye mean, man," exclaimed Farrington, moving impatiently on his seat. "Let's have the yarn."

"Ha-ha! It was a corker! Just think of it; a funeral procession moving slowly across the river, with Tim Fraser and Parson John racing by like a whirlwind. I never saw anything like it, ha-ha!" and Miles leaning back laughed loud and long at the recollection.

Farrington was all attention now. A gleam of delight shone in his eyes, and a faint sigh of relief escaped his lips. He controlled his eagerness, however, for he wished to draw Miles out, and learn the whole story.

"Ye don't mean to tell me," he remarked, "that the parson was racin' on Sunday? Surely ye must be mistaken!"

"I'm a liar then," calmly replied the other, gazing thoughtfully down at his boots. "Yes, I'm a liar, and a fool! Why, didn't I see the whole thing with my own eyes? And didn't all the people of Craig's Corner see it, too?

Ask them, they'll tell you the same."

"I don't doubt yer word, Miles, but it's so unusual. The parson never did anything like that before, did he?"

"Not to my knowledge. But he's mighty fond of a horse, and a fast one at that, so I guess when Tim Fraser clipped up he couldn't resist the temptation."

"Did he explain about it? Did he tell how it happened?"

"He didn't say much. I heard him tell some people that he never let the devil get ahead of him, and he was bound he wouldn't do it that time."

"Ho-ho! That's what he said? Nothing more?"

"No, not that I heard. I came away after that, so nothing new has reached me since, except what you tell me. Is he badly injured?"

"I don't know. Guess he'll come out all right; he generally does."

"He looked very well on Sunday. I'm really sorry he's met with this accident."

"Mebbe it had something to do with the race," suggested Farrington.