A SUNDAY MORNING CALLER.
On Sunday morning, between the hours of nine and ten, Spotty Davis
knocked at the door of Miss Priscilla Kent. The spinster, dressed in
plain black alpaca, admitted him when he asked to see Rodney.
“You’ll find my nephew in his room right up at the head of the stairs,”
she said. “Rap on the door. I don’t think he’ll have much time to talk
to ye, though.”
Spotty’s knuckles on the door panel brought Grant, half dressed and
wondering.
“Hello!” he exclaimed in surprise. “You? I wondered who it could be. My
visitors are sure getting amazing plentiful.”
Davis walked into the room.
“Kinder thought I’d come round and chin with ye this morning,” he
grinned. “Sunday’s always a punk day fur me. I hate the sound of church
bells. Went to see Bunk, but he’d gone off somewhere a’ready.”
“So you accepted me as a last resort,” laughed Rod. “Well, I’m afraid I
won’t have much time to chin.”
“Why not? What you doin’? I see you’re dressin’ all up in your best bib
and tucker. Goin’ somewhere?”
“Yes, to church.”
“What-at?” cried Spotty incredulously. “You don’t mean it!”
“I sure do.”
“Why, I didn’t know you ever ’tended church.”
“I haven’t as much as I should since coming to Oakdale,” admitted
Rodney; “but you see my aunt is very peculiar, and she seldom goes.
This morning she conceived a sudden desire to attend, and asked me if
I’d go with her. That’s why I’m shifting over into my glad rags now.”
“Priscilla Kent in church’ll make folks rubber sure enough,” said
Spotty, who had seated himself comfortably on the easy chair. “But say,
I bet I know why she’s goin’. They’ve got a new minister, a young
feller that ain’t married, and every single girl and widder and old
maid in town is jest flockin’ to hear him. They say he’s perfectly
lovely. Hee! hee! I guess your aunt is gittin’ the fever.”
Rod smiled. “Perhaps you’re right,” he admitted; “but really, I doubt
if she’s even heard there has been a change of ministers, for you know
she is something of a recluse, and doesn’t gossip with the neighbors.
You’ll excuse me if I keep on with the adornment of my person.”
“Oh, go ahead,” nodded Davis, producing a pack of cigarettes. “I’ll
have a coffin nail and be sociable while you’re toggin’ out. Say, that
stew was rippin’ good, wasn’t it?”
“First rate,” agreed Rod, searching for a suitable necktie in a drawer.
“I allow I enjoyed it, all right.”
“What do you think of Bunk’s old hang-out?”
“It’s a right comfortable place.”
“It’s great. We ought to have some fun over there this winter. We three
make a pretty good crowd. Of course it would be better if we had
another feller, but the right kind can’t be found around here. You
didn’t seem to feel much like playing cards yesterday.”
“Not for money, and that was what Bunk proposed.”
“And I was busted,” chuckled the visitor, “so there wasn’t anything
doin’. Bunk’s pretty slick with the pasteboards. You’ve got to keep
your eye peeled for him. All the same, he needn’t think he knows it
all; there is others.”
“Playing cards for money is bad business,” was Grant’s opinion. “I’ve
seen trouble come of it. I’m willing enough to play for sport.”
“But there ain’t much sport in it unless there’s a little money up. If
I’d had some loose change in my clothes, I’d tackled Bunk yesterday.
Say, I’ve been thinking how we bluffed Barker and his bunch, and it
makes me laugh.”
Grant frowned. “Berlin Barker wants to put a curb on his tongue, or
it’s going to get him into trouble some day.”
“Oh, he don’t love you a bit, and he’ll love you less since you give
him that call. Gee! I didn’t know what was goin’ to happen when I and
Bunk heard you chawin’ and come out where we could see ye standin’
there holdin’ your gun jest as if you meant to use it any minute!”
“I should have used it if Barker had carried out his threat to shoot
Sawyer’s hound,” declared Rod; “but I’d been sorry afterward, for I
meant to shoot his dog the instant he fired at old Rouser. That would
have been a right nasty thing for me to do.”
“I don’t see why.”
“Silver Tongue wouldn’t have been to blame for the act of his master.”
“Oh, a dog’s only a dog,” said Davis, letting thin dribbles of smoke
escape from his mouth as he spoke, “and you’d been justified in it.”
“I don’t see it in that light—now. I should have been revenging myself
on a dumb animal that had done me no harm. At the time, however, I
didn’t stop to consider that any. Stir a Grant up right thoroughly, and
he isn’t liable to take consequences into consideration. It’s best for
me to look out not to get riled, though that isn’t easy sometimes.”
“To hear you chin like that,” grinned Davis, “anybody’d think you a
red-hot proposition; but around here they’ve got the idee you’re mild
and docile and all your talk is hot air.”
“Something may happen sometime,” returned Rod, “to satisfy them that
it’s not all hot air—though I hope not.”
The voice of his aunt called him from the foot of the stairs, and he
stepped outside the door to answer her. She wished to know if he was
nearly ready, and he replied that he was.
“It will take some time to get to the church, Rodney, and the second
bell will commence ringin’ pretty soon. We’d better start in a few
minutes.”
“I’ll be down right soon,” was his assurance as he turned back into the
room.
Spotty had abandoned the butt of his cigarette and risen to his feet;
he was standing with his hands in his pockets, seeming deeply
interested in one of the pictures hanging on the wall.
“Well,” he said, turning, “I guess I’ll skin along and leave ye. Jinks!
you’re goin’ to look stylish to-day, Rod. Where’d you git all them good
clothes?”
“My father blew himself on me when he decided to send me East. Reckon
he wanted me to make a good appearance in the bosom of refined and
cultured New England.”
“Even Barker doesn’t dress as swell as that. The only feller around
here who ever did was Bern Hayden, and he certainly did put on the
lugs; but he was a rotter. Hope you enjoy the sermon, old chap. Don’t
let Aunt Priscil’ flirt with the new minister. Hee! hee! hee! So long.”
With this final bit of pleasantry Davis departed, hurrying down the
stairs and out of the house.
Grant finished dressing in a few moments and was ready to join his
aunt. He paused to pick up his money and some keys and pocket trinkets
which he had left lying on the table. Something caused him to hesitate
as his fingers touched the little thin fold of bank bills, and he was
suddenly struck with the idea that the money was not lying as he had
dropped it. He counted it over, finding a five, two twos and two ones.
“Eleven dollars,” he muttered. “Why, I sure thought I had another two
dollar bill. I would have sworn I was carrying thirteen dollars,
besides the change in my pocket. It can’t be——”
He stood there frowning for several moments, plainly perplexed and
undecided.
“Oh, I must be mistaken!” he finally exclaimed. “Spotty has had his
lesson, and he wouldn’t do a thing like that again. Besides, he was put
up to the first job; he didn’t do it of his own accord. I’ve bought
skates and moccasins and things, and I must have made a mistake about
how much I spent. Still, it might be right wise not to put temptation
in the way of a fellow like Davis.”
Pocketing the money, he descended to join his waiting aunt.
------------------------------------------------------------------------