How Janice Day Won Part 36

As Janice came nearer she saw that Marm Parraday did not look as she once did. Her hair had turned very gray, there were deeper lines in her weather-beaten face, and a trembling of her lips and hands made Janice's heart ache.

If the Inn was doing well and Lem Parraday was prospering, his wife seemed far from sharing in the good times that appeared to have come to the Lake View Inn.

The great, rambling house had been freshened with a coat of bright paint; the steps and porch and porch railings were mended; the sod was green; the flower gardens gay; the gravel of the walks and driveway freshly raked; while the round boulders flanking the paths were brilliant with whitewash.

"Why!" said Janice honestly, "the old place never looked so nice before, Mrs. Parraday. You have done wonders this Spring. I hope you will have a prosperous season."

Mrs. Parraday clutched the girl's arm tightly. Janice saw that her eyes seemed quite wild in their expression as she pointed a trembling finger at the gilt sign at the corner of the house, lettered with the single word: "Bar."

"With that sign a-swingin' there, Janice Day?" she whispered. "You air wis.h.i.+n' us prosperity whilst Lem sells pizen to his feller men?"

"Oh, Mrs. Parraday! I was not thinking of the liquor selling," said Janice sympathetically.

"Ye'd better think of it, then," pursued the tavernkeeper's wife.

"Ye'd better think of it, day and night. That's what _I_ do. I git on my knees and pray 't Lem won't prosper as long as that bar room's open.

I do it 'fore Lem himself. He says I'm a-tryin' ter pray the bread-and-b.u.t.ter right aout'n aour mouths. He's so mad at me he won't sleep in the same room an' has gone off inter the west wing ter sleep by hisself. But I don't keer," cried Mrs. Parraday wildly. "Woe ter him that putteth the cup to his neighbor's lips! That's what _I_ tell him. 'Wine is a mocker--strong drink is ragin'.' That's what the Bible says.

"An' Lem--a perfessin' member of Mr. Middler's church--an' me attendin'

the same for goin' on thutty-seven years----"

"But surely, Mrs. Parraday, you are not to blame because your husband sells liquor," put in Janice, sorry for the poor woman and trying to comfort her.

"Why ain't I?" sharply demanded the tavern-keeper's wife. "I've been Lem's partner for endurin' all that time, too--thutty-seven years.

I've been hopin' all the time we'd git ahead an' have suthin' beside a livin' here in Polktown. _I've been hungry for money_!

"Like enough if I hadn't been so sharp after it, an' complained so 'cause we didn't git ahead, Lem an' Cross Moore wouldn't never got their heads together an' 'greed ter try rum-selling to make the old Inn pay a profit.

"Oh, yes! I see my fault now. Oh, Lord! I see it," groaned Marm Parraday, clasping her trembling hands. "But, believe me, Janice Day, I never seen this that's come to us. We hev brought the curse of rum inter this taown after it had been free from it for years. An' we sh.e.l.l hafter suffer in the end--an' suffer more'n anybody else is sufferin' through our fault."

She broke off suddenly and, without looking again at Janice, mounted the steps with her broom and disappeared inside the house.

Janice, heartsick and almost in tears, was turning away when a figure appeared from around the corner of the tavern--from the direction of the bar-room, in fact. But Frank Bowman's smiling, ruddy face displayed no sign of _his_ having sampled Lem Parraday's bar goods.

"Hullo, Janice," he said cheerfully. "I've just been having a set-to with Lem--and I don't know but he's got the best of me."

"In what way?" asked the girl, brus.h.i.+ng her eyes quickly that the young man might not see her tears.

"Why, this is pay day again, you know. My men take most of the afternoon off on pay day. They are cleaning up now, in the camp house, and will be over by and by to sample some of Lem's goods," and the engineer sighed.

"No, I can't keep them away from the place. I've tried. Some of them won't come; but the majority will be in that pleasing condition known as 'howling drunk' before morning."

"Oh, Frank! I wish Lem would stop selling the stuff," cried Janice.'

"Well, he won't. I've just been at him. I told him if he didn't close his bar at twelve o'clock tonight, according to the law, I'd appear in court against him myself. I mean to stand outside here with Constable Cantor to-night and see that the barroom is dark at twelve o'clock, anyway."

"That will be a splendid move, Frank!" Janice said quickly, and with enthusiasm.

"Ye-es; as far as it goes. But Lem said to me: 'Don't forget this is a hotel, Mr. Bowman, and I can serve my guests in the dining room or in their own rooms, all night long, if I want to.' And that's true."

"Oh, dear me! So he can," murmured Janice.

"He's got me there," grumbled young Bowman. "I never thought Lem Parraday any too sharp before; but he's learned a lot from Joe Bodley.

That young fellow is about as shrewd and foxy as they make 'em."

"Yet they say he did not sell Hopewell's violin at a profit, as he expected to," Janice observed.

"That's right, too. And it's queer," the engineer said. "I've seen that black-haired, foxy-looking chap around town more than once since Joe bought the fiddle. Hullo! what's the matter with Dexter?"

The engineer had got into step at once with Janice, and they had by this time walked down High Street to the steamboat dock. The freight-house door was open and Walky Dexter had loaded his wagon and was ready to drive up town; but Josephus was headed down the dock.

The expressman was climbing unsteadily to his seat, and in reply to something said by the freight agent, he shouted:

"Thas all right! thas all right! I kin turn Josephus 'round on this dock. Jefers-pelters! he could _back_ clean up town with _this_ load, I sh'd hope!"

Janice had said nothing in reply to Frank Bowman's last query; but the latter added, under his breath: "Goodness! Walky is pretty well screwed-up, isn't he? I just saw him at the hotel taking what he calls a 'snifter.'"

"Poor Walky!" sighed Janice.

"Poor Josephus, _I_ should say," rejoined Frank quickly.

The expressman was turning the old horse on the empty dock. There was plenty of room for this manoeuver; but Walky Dexter's eyesight was not what it should be. Or, perhaps he was less patient than usual with Josephus.

"Git around there, Josephus!" the expressman shouted. "Back! Back! I tell ye! Consarn yer hide!"

He yanked on the bit and Josephus' heavy hoofs clattered on the resounding planks. The wagon was heavily laden; and when it began to run backward, with Walky jerking on the reins, it could not easily be stopped.

A rotten length of "string-piece" had been removed from one edge of the dock, and a new timber had not yet replaced it. As bad fortune would have it, Walky backed his wagon directly into this opening.

"Hold on there! Where ye goin' to--ye crazy ol' critter?" bawled the freight agent.

"Hul-_lo_! Jefers-pelters!" gasped the suddenly awakened Walky, casting an affrighted glance over his shoulder. "I'm a-backin' over the dump, ain't I? Gid-_ap_, Josephus!"

But when once Josephus made up his slow mind to back, he did it thoroughly. He, too, expected to feel the rear wheels of the heavy farm wagon b.u.mp against the string-piece.

"Gid-_ap_, Josephus!" yelled Walky again, and rose up to smite the old horse with the ends of the reins. He had no whip--nor would one have helped matters, perhaps, at this juncture.

The rear wheels went over the edge of the dock. The lake was high, being swelled by the Spring floods. "Plump!" the back of the wagon plunged into the water, and, the bulk of the load being over the rear axle, the forward end shot up off the front truck.

Wagon body and freight sunk into the lake. Walky, as though shot from a catapult, described a parabola over his horse's head and landed with a crash on all fours directly under Josephus' nose.

Never was the old horse known to make an unnecessary motion. But the sudden flight and unexpected landing on the dock of his driver, quite excited Josephus.

With a snort he scrambled backward, the front wheels went over the edge of the dock and dragged Josephus with them. Harnessed as he was, and still attached to the shafts, the old horse went into the lake with a great splash.

"Hey! Whoa! Whoa, Josephus! Jefers-pelters! ain't this a purty to-do?" roared Walky, recovering his footing with more speed than grace.

"Naow see that ol' critter! What's he think he's doin'--takin' a swimmin' lesson?"

For Josephus, with one mighty plunge, broke free from the shafts. He struck out for the sh.o.r.e and reached shallow water almost immediately.