He waggled his whip-lash close to my nose when I stood in the road.
“When you get into State prison, where you belong,” he snarled, “you’ll
have a chum there. For that’s where I’m going to send old Kingsley, so
help me the living God!”
And he curled the lash with all his might under the belly of his horse,
taking it out on the poor brute, and tore away, with the animal on the
dead run.
I trudged along in the dust he left flying. A fine chance I stood of
handling my uncle Deck!
A precious lot of fool babbling that talk had been at the front door of
the Kingsley house the night before!
Nevertheless, I went to the house again that evening, for I had a
business excuse. I told mother and daughter that certain urgent matters
called me out of town and that I would be leaving early in the morning.
I had a word or two to say about my arrangements for clearing the lot so
that their minds might be at ease if any gossip came to them; in country
communities there are busybodies who are always guessing at mischief and
are trying to make trouble.
I remained with them only a short time, for I was afraid they would try
to get consolation out of me regarding my uncle and I was not in the
mood to do any more lying. I was in a generally uncomfortable state of
mind, anyway, and I knew that Celene was troubled by my manner. There
seemed to be sense of impending evil hovering over the three of us.
Frankly, my uncle’s threat regarding the judge had thrown a good-sized
scare into me; Uncle Deck had truly acted as if he knew what he was
talking about. My own conscience was creaking considerably inside me.
When I rose to go Celene did not see me to the door. She gazed at me
tenderly when I stated that I would be back in a few days, but some sort
of reserve kept her at her mother’s side.
The stars were certainly not so bright that night when I walked back to
the tavern. In my gloom a memory popped into my mind, queerly enough.
I remembered that Dodovah Vose had loaned me ten dollars the night he
helped me to escape.
I plucked a bill out of my breast pocket and handed it to him when I
walked into the tavern.
“I hope you’ll excuse the delay,” I pleaded.
“I sure will,” he replied, heartily. “You’re an honest chap, young
Sidney!”
But I was far from feeling honest that night.