"WHAT JACK RIMMON SAYS, GOES."
The little crowd about the post office at Six Roads looked with
speechless amazement upon the riderless horse as the animal approached
at a furious pace.
"Something has happened to Dix!" exclaimed Mr. Rimmon. "I feared it.
Come here, Jack; where is your master?"
With a low neigh, the panting horse stopped beside him, the creature
trembling in every part.
Even Dan Shag was moved to emotion, and for the time he forgot to repeat
his request for the mail pouch.
"I wish you could speak, Jack," said the postmaster, patting the horse's
head. "Where did you leave him?"
"It's pas' six!" broke in Shag. "Reckon ye'll let me hev th' government
traps?"
"Not yet, Dan. Wait till we learn the fate of Little Snap."
"Don't see wot thet hes to do with me. I hev been 'p'inted to carry thet
mail, an' every minnit ye keep yit frum me makes ye liable fer damages.
Reckon ye wouldn't want 'em to know at Washington 'bout this yer
foolery."
Mr. Rimmon paid no heed to these words, which fact perhaps enraged the
impatient Shag more than any reply would have done.
"Look hyur, Jack Rimmon! air ye goin' to let me hev thet mail—right
off—ter wunst?"
Mr. Rimmon's reply fairly took away his breath.
"No, sir!"
At first the would-be mail carrier could not believe his ears.
"Wot's thet ye say, Jack Rimmon?"
"Stand aside now, Mr. Shag; there is more important matter on hand than
your business. I will talk with you about this mail matter when I have
more leisure."
With these words, Mr. Rimmon, leading Jack by the bridle, started toward
the home of the Lewises.
"Great guns!" exclaimed Shag, as soon as he could speak; "wot in
creation do ye mean? Foolin' with me, a United States officer, in thet
way! Where's Judge Claverton? I'll hev him tear this ol' shebang o' a
post offis down, but I'll hev thet mail bag!"
A few of the spectators cheered him, but the majority followed the
postmaster toward the more exciting scene around the besieged house.
At least that is what it looked to Mr. Rimmon, as he approached, with
Jack walking by his side.
Foremost in the excited throng that had surrounded the home of the
postboy, was Sheriff Brady, who was speaking to Mrs. Lewis and the crowd
at his heels in almost the same breath.
"Wait a minute longer, boys! Tell us where he has gone, Mary Lewis, and
we won't molest you."
The overwrought woman was standing in the doorway with one of her
children on either side. Her inflamed eyes told that she had been
weeping. It had been a night she would never forget.
"I repeat, Mr. Brady," she said, for the twentieth time, "that he has
gone to Volney to see Mr. Calvert, and that he will be back at six!"
"Tell us something else; it will at least make a change, Mrs. Lewis. Of
course, we know better than that. You are knowing to where he has hid
himself."
"It's past six!" cried some one from the crowd.
"So 'tis," cried the sheriff. "I don't like to resort to any violence
with a woman. Wait one minnit longer. While we wait, tell us the truth,
woman."
In vain she reiterated the truthfulness of her statement.
The frenzied spectators would listen to nothing reasonable.
At this critical moment little Sammy Lewis, dragging his boyish figure
to its full height with manly dignity, stepped in front of his imperiled
mother, crying:
"You shall not hurt her! She has told the truth of Dix. We do not know
why he does not come; but he went to see Mr. Calvert. He will come back
as soon as he can."
"What means all this outcry?" demanded the clear voice of Mr. Rimmon.
"Sheriff Brady, is it thus you perform the duties of your office with
such a rabble at your back?"
Every one started in surprise at the appearance of the postmaster, and
low exclamations came from the lips of all at sight of the postboy's
horse.
Mrs. Lewis seemed to comprehend the worst at a single glance.
"My boy! what has happened to him?" she cried, rushing forward to Mr.
Rimmon.
"Be calm, Mary. Let us trust he is safe."
"But how came Jack here without him?"
The appearance of the horse was then told in a few words, while numerous
conjectures were offered in regard to the rider.
"You say he went away with both his horses," said Mr. Rimmon. "The fact
that this one has come back without any saddle shows that he must have
been riding Fairy at the time Jack got away from him, or was perhaps
sent ahead by his master to tell us that he is safe. I look upon it as a
good sign.
"Cheer up, Mrs. Lewis; I guarantee that no harm shall come to you. Mr.
Brady, I advise you to withdraw your men. Dix Lewis will not be hard to
find when he comes."
"If he comes!" said the sheriff. "You may not be aware, Mr. Rimmon, that
Warfield has concluded not to stand the boy's bail, and thus we must
have him."
"I know nothing of this," replied the postmaster, sharply. "Why didn't
you or Mr. Warfield come to me in regard to the matter?"
"Of course I did not suppose you would care to stand in for the runaway,
if Mr. Warfield did not. In that case it was my duty to capture the
scamp as soon as possible."
"Give yourself no farther concern in that direction, Mr. Brady. I will
answer for the boy. Is that sufficient?"
Mr. Rimmon was not the right man for Sheriff Brady to antagonize.
Besides being a person of good financial standing, he was known to be a
man of sterling integrity, and, to use a cant expression, "What Jack
Rimmon says, goes." So the officer said:
"Of course, Mr. Rimmon. But I want to tell you that you are making the
greatest mistake of your life."
"That's my lookout. Now go to your homes, every man of you, and when Dix
Lewis is wanted I will guarantee he will be on hand, or there will be
good reason for his not being there."
Mr. Rimmon had barely finished speaking, when the clatter of a horse's
hoofs broke the silence following his words.
The sound came from the road below the crowd, and looking hastily in
that direction, one and all saw a riderless horse coming swiftly toward
them.
Every one recognized the animal as Fairy, the brown mare so often ridden
by the postboy. She was more exhausted than the bay had been, and in
addition to the flecks of foam dappling her sides, were clots of blood.
If any evidence of a mishap to Little Snap had been wanting before, it
seemed supplied now.
With a cry of anguish the bereaved mother fell in a swoon.
The kind heart of the postmaster was deeply moved by this scene, and he
ordered the onlookers to stand back, until she could be restored to
consciousness.
"This looks bad for the boy," he said. "Some of you care for the mare
and the horse, too. I want half a dozen of you to go with me in search
of him as soon as possible."
Mrs. Lewis soon returned to life, when she was taken into the house, and
comforted as best she could be, her friends assuring her that everything
would be done to find Dix that was possible.
Mr. Rimmon had meanwhile ordered his own horse to be saddled, and was
ready to start in quest of the missing boy, as Dan Shag returned to the
post office, accompanied by Justice Claverton and Morton Meiggs.
"Reckon I'll take thet mail bag now," said Shag, with a sort of grim
humor in his looks. "Ye hev kept me waitin' quite a spell."
Mr. Rimmon glanced hastily at the speaker and his companions, and then
toward the half dozen horsemen who were to go with him, before he said:
"I am sorry to be obliged to refuse your request, Mr. Shag, but the fact
is I cannot recognize you."
"Wot's thet mean?" gasped the amazed man.
"Let me say a word," interposed Claverton. "Aren't you getting into
rather deep water, Mr. Rimmon?"
"I am a good swimmer, judge, and——"
"Hold on! that isn't the idee at all. Dix Lewis is out of the mail
business, and I have in my official capacity appointed Mr. Shag mail
carrier on the Kanawha route. Haven't I the authority in my official
capacity to do so?"
"I haven't time in my present situation to argue that point, but I will
say that I am not going to be governed by your order at this time.
"Come, men, if you are ready for a start, we will not delay any longer.
Bid Mrs. Lewis to be of good cheer, and assure her that we will send her
word as soon as we have learned anything in regard to his fate.
"Good-morning, Judge Claverton, Mr. Shag, and Mr. Meiggs."
While the surprised trio stood speechless witnesses, the little
cavalcade dashed down the road at a smart canter.
"Did ye ever see ennything like thet?" asked Shag, as soon as he had
recovered his breath.
"Rimmon is carrying a high hand," acknowledged Claverton.
"Why can't we help ourselves to thet ol' sack? He ain't no right to keep
it arter this time o' day. Say th' word an' I'll git it in a jiffy."
"Better let it alone. Jack Rimmon ain't a good man to buck against. All
we can do is to see what will happen next."
Though both of his companions were prone to object to this inactivity,
they could do no better than to submit.