COMPELLED TO SERVE
Douglas and his companions stayed for some time after Tom and Pete
left. There was much to talk about, and Nell had to go upstairs to
explain everything to her father who was greatly agitated over the
unusual disturbance. Then, there was the door to be fixed, and it took
Jake a full half hour to get it mended.
"There, I guess that will stand for a while," he commented, as he stood
back and viewed his work.
"I thought Pete was going to do it," Douglas remarked.
"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 shine 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?"
"Try cases!" and Jake rubbed his unshaven chin, while a smile lurked
about the corners of his mouth. "I guess the only cases he tries are
the boxes which come into his store."
"But isn't he called upon to decide questions, such as disputes, and
other matters which arise in almost every parish?"
"Never heard of him doin' sich things. Si Stubbles does all that."
"Is he a Justice of the Peace?"
"Oh, no, but he looks after sich affairs fer all that, an' settles 'em
in his own way."
"And Squire Hawkins is only a J.P. in name, then?"
"That's about it."
"Well, then, it is about time he was getting to work. I shall give him
a case this very afternoon. I am going to lay a complaint before him
about last night's affair."
"Ye are?" Jake asked in surprise. "I wish ye luck, but I'm afraid ye
won't accomplish much."
"Why?"
"H'm, that's easy to explain. Hen Hawkins is under Si Stubbles' thumb.
He won't tech the case 'cause he's afraid of Si."
"What has Si to do with it?"
"A great deal, if I'm not mistaken. Him an' Ben are both at the bottom
of last night's racket, mark my word. Hen would be scairt most to
death to do anything that would uncover their doin's. He'll be afraid
of losing' Si's trade. Oh, no, I guess ye won't git very fer with Hen
Hawkins, even though he is a J.P."
Douglas said nothing more about the affair just then, though what he
had heard made him more determined than ever. He was learning more and
more what a grip Simon Stubbles had over Rixton, and this added to the
spirit of adventure which thrilled his soul. Even the Justice of the
Peace was forced to bow to Si's authority.
Early that afternoon Douglas went to the store and enquired for Squire
Hawkins.
"You will find him at his house," the clerk informed him. "He has not
returned from his dinner yet."
Douglas noticed several men in the store who ceased their earnest
conversation as he entered. He surmised what they were talking about,
as no doubt the news was already abroad. The men listened very
attentively as Douglas questioned the clerk, and they watched him
curiously.
Douglas had seen the storekeeper on several occasions but had never met
him personally. A common farmhand was beneath the notice of such a man
as Squire Hawkins, who prided himself upon his acquaintance with men of
money and position. He was a small-sized man, fussy, and pompous to
those he considered his inferiors. He did not even show common
courtesy as Douglas was shown into the room where he was seated in an
easy chair reading the daily paper. He did not even rise to receive
his visitor, but in a gruff voice asked him what he wanted.
"You are a Justice of the Peace, so I understand," Douglas began.
"Yes, and what of it?"
As briefly and concisely as possible Douglas stated his case. He told
about the two attacks which had been made upon his person, and of the
breaking into Professor Strong's house.
"Well, what do you want me to do about it?" Squire Hawkins curtly asked.
"You should know without my telling you," Douglas replied. He was
becoming nettled at this man's insolence.
"What, what's that you say?"
"As a Justice of the Peace you must surely know your business. I have
told you what has happened, and now I lay a complaint before you
against three men, though others are implicated in the matter."
"Why don't you go to Mr. Stubbles? He always settles such matters."
"Mr. Stubbles has nothing to do with this affair. He is not a Justice
of the Peace. You are, though, and it is to you I look for justice."
"But I have never handled a case in my life. I don't know what to do."
"Then it is time you began. Why did you accept the office if you know
nothing about it?"
"Look here," and the Squire's face became red with anger. "I don't
wish for you to dictate to me in that manner. Who are you, anyway?"
"I am John Handyman, working for Jake Jukes at present."
"H'm. And so you expect me to bother my head about you?"
"I certainly do, and what is more, I shall see that you do it, even
though I am only a hired man."
Something in Douglas' voice and bearing made an impression upon Squire
Hawkins. He squirmed uneasily in his chair and his face grew redder
than ever.
"Confound it all!" he growled. "Why do you bother me with this matter?
What reason had the men to attack you? They were only sky-larking, no
doubt. Having a bit of fun, most likely."
"Mighty poor fun for me, though, especially when the cudgels fell upon
my head. I don't like such fun, and I want you to take steps to stop
it in the future."
"Who are the men?" the Squire asked.
"I only know the names of three at present. They are Tom Totten, Pete
Rollins and Ben Stubbles."
"Ben Stubbles!" Squire Hawkins exclaimed in surprise. "Surely you
don't expect me to take action against him?"
"I certainly do."
"But did he attack you last night?"
"No, not in person, but he was the one who supplied the liquor to the
men, and ordered them to waylay and beat me."
Squire Hawkins did not at once reply to these words. He was lost in
thought and seemed somewhat worried. His brow knitted, and his small
crafty eyes became like two narrow slits.
"I am afraid I can't do anything for you," he at length replied. "It's
utterly impossible for me to undertake your case."
"And why not?"
"Oh, there are personal reasons which I do not care to explain."
"Fear of the Stubbles, eh?"
"They are good customers of mine. I would not like to offend them."
"And you are a Justice of the Peace, a man appointed in the King's name
to preserve law and order, and yet unwilling to see that justice is
done for fear of having your trade injured." Douglas spoke
emphatically, and his words caused Squire Hawkins to wince.
"You have no business to talk to me that way," he roared. "If you are
not satisfied with me get somebody else to attend to your affairs."
"Do you mean it?" Douglas asked. "Do I understand you to say that you
will have nothing to do with this case, and that I must get some one
else?"
"Yes, that's exactly what I mean."
"Very well, then, I shall take you at your word. But remember, I have
appealed to you who have been legally appointed by the Crown. You have
refused to act in this case. You have refused to see justice done to
an innocent man. Do you know what that means? If not, then it is your
duty to know. I shall not ask you again to assist me. I am going to
the city, and one of the ablest lawyers there is a special friend of
mine. I shall place the matter in his hands, and you will be forced to
abide by the consequences."
Douglas turned and had almost reached the door when Squire Hawkins
leaped suddenly from his chair.
"Wait a minute," he ordered. "I want to have a few more words with
you."
"What is the sense of our talking any more?" Douglas asked in reply.
"You refuse to conduct this case and what is the use of wasting my
time?"
"But perhaps something might be done yet. I feel that I might comply
with your request and see this affair through."
"And you will summon those men and try the case yourself?"
"Yes, to the best of my ability."
"Where?"
"In the hall at the Corner, of course."
"When?"
"Will Monday at three o'clock do? That will give me time to serve the
summons for the men to appear."
"Yes, that will suit me as well as any time. You must summon the
witnesses as well. I shall give you their names. It will be just as
well to write them down so as to make no mistake."
Douglas was somewhat surprised at the readiness of Squire Hawkins to
comply with his suggestions. He did not know the man or he would not
have felt so satisfied. Had he really known what was in his mind, he
would have had nothing more to do with him after his first refusal. He
was to learn, however, of his mistake later.