THE ELDER’S INDIGNATION
Marty came home full of it from the village that evening. Janice had
not said a word about her adventure of the afternoon, and Aunt ’Mira
had been too involved in her own particular troubles to notice the
gravity of her niece’s face.
Aunt ’Mira had essayed the making of a pegtop skirt for street wear. As
she told Janice, “it fitted jest beautifully” over the hips. But when
she came to try it on, it was so narrow around her shoe-tops that she
couldn’t walk in it “no better than a hobbled hen!”
“And I can’t slit it up the side same’s Miz’ Scattergood did hern,”
confessed Aunt ’Mira; “for Jason wouldn’t stand for it. He’s a
mild-tempered man; he kin be coaxed or led jest so fur, but he’d never
stand for me wearin’ a slit skirt. If I went to church in it I b’lieve
I’d find the door locked ag’in me when I got home. An’, b’sides,”
whispered the troubled lady, “I never can keep my stockin’s from
wrinklin’, and they might show! That Bowman girl’s do.”
“Dear Auntie!” sighed Janice. “Why do you do it?”
“Do what?” asked the large lady, startled.
“Why are you a sheep? Why do you follow after all the other sheep? I’m
sure you can’t think these extremes of fashion pretty or modest.”
“You talk like a reg’lar old woman, Janice Day!” exclaimed her aunt.
“What’s prettiness got to do with it? Ain’t it the _style_? Ye might as
well be dead an’ buried, an’ so save yer board, as to be out of style,”
declared the excited Mrs. Day. “And I’m a-goin’ to keep up with the
fashions, if it don’t break either my back or my pocketbook. If I can’t
lead the fashions, I kin foller them an’ make a decent showin’ for the
Day family.”
“That’s exactly it,” murmured Janice. “Is it decent?” But Aunt ’Mira
did not hear. Marty came rushing in at this point and sprung his bomb.
“My goodness, Janice!” he cried. “What you goin’ to do? They say Elder
Concannon’s swore out a warrant for you!”
“What’s that you’re sayin’, Marty Day?” demanded his mother. “You’re
always comin’ home with your jokes; but you needn’t try to frighten
Janice.”
“Well, it’s so now! Isn’t it, Janice?”
“You behave, Marty!” commanded his father, without waiting for Janice
to reply.
“Perhaps Marty tells the truth,” said his cousin quietly.
“What?” gasped Mrs. Day.
“Swore out a warrant? The old Elder? What fur?” demanded Mr. Day.
“Is it really so, Marty?” asked Janice, herself surprised.
“Yep. I got it straight. Saw him comin’ out of Judge Little’s office
with the constable.”
“What’s he swore out a warrant for against your cousin, I want to
know?” demanded Aunt ’Mira.
“Speedin’,” said Marty, grinning. “I knew they’d git her yet. Goin’
to make an example of her, so they say. That’s what the Elder says.
’Course there’s so many other autermobilists in town, they need an
example. Mean old hunks!”
Uncle Jason fairly grew gray under his tan and his watery eyes caught
fire of his wrath.
“If that ain’t jest like that old psalm-singin’ hypocrite! If he dares
have our Janice fined it’ll be the sorriest day he ever spent with his
hat on!”
He wanted to know all about how it had happened. Janice told him the
exact truth, as far as the racing of the automobile along the Upper
Road went, but she was too excited to make dear all about the Trimmins
and the sick baby.
“Mebbe you’d ought to have stopped when they told you to, Janice,” said
Aunt ’Mira timidly.
“She hadn’t nothing of the kind!” declared her angry husband. “You be
still, Almiry. I glory in the gal’s spunk. If she’d stopped, they’d
mebbe had her in jail till this time. The Elder’s got one of his
mean fits on and he’s gotter have satisfaction. But I’ll give him
satisfaction.”
“Oh, Jason!” quavered his timid wife. “Don’t you git inter no law-fight
with Elder Concannon. He’s got more money’n us, and he’ll beat ye.”
“I’d like ter see him!” declared Uncle Jason valiantly. “I’m going to
stick by Broxton’s gal if it takes the last dollar I got. An’ I’d be
glad ter fight old Concannon, anyway.”
“Hurray for Dad!” burst out Marty. “He talks right, he does!”
“Oh, I hope it will make nobody any trouble but myself,” murmured
Janice. “Really, I never did travel so fast on the road before to-day;
and there was a reason----”
“It don’t matter. He shows a mighty poor sperit,” grunted Uncle Jason.
“I shell tell Concannon so.”
“Seems mighty small pertaters,” quoth Aunt ’Mira, “for them two men to
pitch upon a girl.”
Uncle Jason put on his hat without eating his supper. “Never mind
the victuals,” he grunted. “I kin eat any time, Almiry. I’m a-goin’
downtown ter see what kin be done about it.”
Uncle Jason was as good as his word, and his interest brought forth
fruit that rather staggered Janice. In the first place, the constable
never served the warrant; but early in the morning the farmer took
Janice down to the justice’s office, all the way advising her not to be
frightened, “for all her friends would stand by her.”
And it really did look as though many of Janice Day’s friends intended
literally to do that thing. Judge Little held court in a big room over
the feed store. Flour and meal dust powdered the stairway going up, had
searched out the crevices through the floor from the warehouse below,
and masked the spider-webs in the windows with a curtain through which
the winter sun had hard work to penetrate.
There were few benches, but the men of the town stood four deep all
about the room. It being Saturday forenoon, there was less business
than usual going on and even Walky Dexter was on hand. Such a gathering
had not been seen in the justice’s court since a half-crazy Canuck had
attacked and injured his employer on a farm at the edge of town, half a
score of years before. Most of the grist that came into Judge Little’s
mill was engendered by picayune neighborhood quarrels, that in local
parlance “didn’t amount to a hill of beans.”
This was a different matter, it seemed. The bespectacled old Justice
of the Peace, who had been settling neighborhood bickerings for half
a lifetime, took a hasty squint at the docket to make sure that he
had not waked up on the Day of Judgment with more than his share of
important cases to dispose of. There was just the one case of speeding,
the accusation sworn to by Elder Concannon.
“This here matter of ‘J. Day’s drivin’ an automobile on the Upper
Middletown Road, faster than the law allows,’” the old man repeated,
reading from a paper before him. “‘Complainant, Josiah Concannon.’ I
see ye present, Elder. Constable, is J. Day here?”
There was a murmur in the room and Uncle Jason, with a light hand on
Janice’s arm, urged her to rise. There were no ladies in the room;
according to Polktown ethics, women had nothing to do with courts or
court matters. Janice felt herself very much alone, despite Uncle
Jason’s presence. All the friendly faces she saw about her were very
grave. Nobody smiled at her. She failed to take into consideration the
New England reverence for Court proceedings.
“This here is my niece, Jedge Little,” said Uncle Jason, in rather a
shaking voice, for he was unused to public speaking. “She done the fast
driving. Her name is Janice Day, and she’s Broxton Day’s only child.
She’s livin’ with me and my wife, in our care. She’s as fine----”
“Thank you, Mr. Day,” interrupted the justice politely. “You’ll be
given an opportunity to testify as to the character of the accused a
little later. Let’s have things reg’lar and orderly. We’ll hear Elder
Concannon first. You can sit down with your uncle, young lady,” he
added to Janice.
The old Elder, towering like a figure of wrath, scowled at Janice and
shook an admonitory finger while he talked. He spread before the Court
in solemn accusation how Janice had sped by his house and along the
Upper Road “time and time again” at a speed that made the traffic for
other vehicles and pedestrians quite perilous.
“Better come to the event in question, Elder,” advised the Squire
easily. “I take it these previous times when you say you saw the young
lady drivin’ fast, you had arranged no means of timing her. That so?”
The Elder admitted the truth of this suggestion.
“Then let us hear about yesterday’s happening,” said Judge Little.
“I told the constable to come up by my place and we’d time her. I knew
what time she us’ally gets along,” said the Elder.
“You set a trap for the young lady?” queried Judge Little, and there
was a low angry murmur all over the room. The old Elder shook his mane
back and held up his head. His eyes glowed.
[Illustration: The old Elder, towering like a figure of wrath, scowled
at Janice.]
“I had a right to do so,” he declared. “She was breakin’ the law.
She’s made that devil wagon she drives a nuisance on our roads. Me and
the constable waited for her, and we timed her by our watches. At the
rate she was going when she passed us, she was goin’ nigh fifty miles
an hour! She was goin’ as fast as the cannon-ball express on the V. C.!
Any other wagon on the road would have been in danger----”
“Were there any other wagons in sight, Elder?” asked the justice.
“No, sir. Didn’t happen to be just then.”
“It was a lonely piece of road?”
“But she kept right on at that pace. They tell me she came down into
High Street at a turrible speed.”
The justice nodded, and called up the constable. The latter
corroborated the testimony of the Elder. He showed no animosity against
Janice, however; although under other conditions he might have done so.
He was a man of much policy, and he saw that the courtroom was filled
with people friendly to the accused.
As the constable mumbled his observations, Dr. Poole came into the
room. But he stood at the back and nobody noticed him. The justice
said, looking at Uncle Jason and Janice:
“This seems to be a serious matter, I am sorry to say, Mr. Day. The
case is aggravated because of the fact that the young lady did not stop
the car when she was ordered to do so by the constable. Of course, we
have to do with only this single case of speeding; the other occasions
mentioned have no influence upon my mind. It is always the duty of the
Court to stick to the proven facts.
“Now, does the young lady wish to speak in her own behalf? Does
she wish to tell her side of the story? Does she deny any of the
accusation--the evidence regarding yesterday’s happening, I mean?”
Before Uncle Jason got his mouth open to speak, Janice rose quickly,
and said in a shaking voice:
“No, sir. What Elder Concannon and the constable have said is true.
About yesterday, I mean. I _was_ going fast, and I _did_ refuse to
stop.”
She sat down. The justice shook his head with gravity and pursed his
lips. “It’s a very serious matter, young lady,” he said. “I wish that
I might find some excuse for your action. It seems a particularly
flagrant one because of your refusing to obey the command of our
constable to stop. You know, we are a law-abiding people, and we
appoint peace officers for the purpose of admonishing those who
overstep the bounds of the law, rather than to punish law-breakers.
“In this event it seems that you aggravated the case by refusing to
obey the constable. You offer no excuse for your action----”
“May I speak, Squire?” said Dr. Poole, suddenly, and came forward.
“Why--yes--certainly,” said the Justice of the Peace. “Always glad to
hear you, Doctor. Is what you have to say pertinent to the case before
the Court?”
“Very much so,” the physician said bruskly.
“You are a witness for the defense?”
“I most certainly am. From what I hear I believe this girl,” and he
laid his hand upon Janice’s shoulder, “has not made out a very good
case for herself.”
“She has made no defense, Doctor,” said the Squire. “She admits the
facts as put forward in the evidence of the reputable witnesses against
her.”
“And claimed no extenuating circumstances, eh?” ejaculated Dr. Poole.
“I can understand that she’d do that. She’s that sort of a girl, I
guess. She’s not one to beg off. Ha! What did she tell you made her
drive so fast yesterday, and refuse to stop on the road when she was
told to?”
“Why, Doctor, she has made no excuses,” said Judge Little, rather
severely. “She was given an opportunity to tell her story, and merely
admitted the truth of the accusation.”
“Truth? Half-truths, more likely,” growled the doctor. “I reckon she
didn’t tell you that she was driving home from school and came to a
house where there was a baby sick unto death and nobody with sense
enough to do anything for it? She didn’t tell you that she made the
child’s sister jump into her car with him, and how she was driving the
sick baby to my office to save its life when these two old grouches,”
and the wrathful physician glared at the Elder and the constable,
“tried to stop her? She didn’t tell you that, did she?
“If she’d stopped, the baby might have died in the car. They got him
to my office just in time for me to save him. Suppose they had stopped
while Janice tried to explain to these opinionated old men what she was
doing? The death of the baby would have been at their door! They ought
to feel grateful that she didn’t obey them!”
The murmur that went through the room brought a sudden flush of tears
to Janice Day’s hazel eyes. It was like a subdued cheer. Uncle Jason
put his arm around her--and right in public, too! Uncle Jason was not
given to open expression of his affections.
Dr. Poole prepared to go. His testimony was not under oath, nor had
anybody been sworn before the justice, whose administration of the law
was very informal, indeed.
“Lemme tell you,” said the physician, as he started for the door, “I
drive all over this county, and I meet a good many of these motor-cars;
if their drivers were all as careful as this girl, we’d have few
accidents on the road caused by motors. Excuse me, Judge. I’ve got to
hurry to a case.”
“I thank you for coming and testifying, Doctor,” said Judge Little
warmly. Then he turned toward the place where Elder Concannon had
stood. The old gentleman, however, had reached the street before Dr.
Poole. The constable stood alone to bear the brunt of any displeasure
that might be due.
But Judge Little was a fair-minded man. He merely shook his head at the
officer of the law. “We seldom know all the ins and outs of a case,” he
murmured. “You were perfectly right, constable; the law was broken. But
under the circumstances I think I shall allow the defendant to go under
suspended sentence.” He smiled gravely at Janice. “I hope, my dear
young lady, that you will not allow the remembrance of this experience
to keep you from doing any similar act of helpfulness that may come in
your way. Your standing with this Court is favorable.”