“Isn’t there another door?” asked the sheriff. “I do not care to meddle
with this vixen if I can help it.”
“You had better not,” cried Joe, but her heart began to fail as she
realized how helpless she was. She could only hope that the others had
succeeded in secreting Mary so the officers could not find her. But if
they did, what then?
The sheriff lost no time in seeking the side door, ’Squire Hardy and
one of the men remaining in front, as if he was afraid to face the
brave girl in the doorway alone.
“It will be better for the girl to come along peaceably,” he said.
But Joe made no reply, while she listened for sounds of what was taking
place within the house.
Sheriff Stanyan did not gain an entrance until Mary had been concealed
in a closet, but the frightened aspect of the little group in the room
told the keen-eyed officer that he was on the right track.
“Where is the girl?” he demanded. “Oh, she need not think she can
escape me. I saw her enter this house, and I will find her if we have
to tear the old shell down. It is a fitting abode for such as you, and
you may thank your stars that I am not after the whole of you.”
Mrs. Bayne tried to speak, but the words died away in a whisper, while
Mrs. Little could only sob out her anguish.
At that moment Mr. Little, leaning heavily on his cane, entered the
room. He had overheard enough to know what was causing the excitement,
and facing the sheriff, he said, defiantly:
“Our daughter a thief! never, sir! Begone from these premises, and
never darken----”
“So you dare to offer resistance?” cried the officer. “Nothing suits me
better than to snap these handcuffs on your wrists, which, no doubt,
have felt their like before.”
The women screamed, and Mr. Little, in his righteous indignation,
ordered the sheriff to stand back. In the midst of the scene the door
opened, and Mary stepped into the apartment, saying:
“Let them take me, father. It will be better so. I am not a thief, but
it does not matter what they will do with me.”
Tears and cries of pain followed, but they availed nothing. Eager to
finish his work, the officer took Mary Little by the arm and led her
from the room, his associates covering his retreat.
“Don’t let them rob me of my child!” moaned the distracted mother; but
her grief and her appeals fell on hearts of stone.
Joe Willet realized how futile had been their defence, as she saw the
exultant party drive away with poor Mary in their midst, a prisoner,
charged with stealing from her employer.
At the same time Mary was being taken away by Sheriff Stanyan, Larry
Little, without dreaming of the ill fate which had overtaken his
sister, was the central figure in a scene of most peculiar and vivid
interest.
The young orator paused suddenly in the midst of his speech, and at
sight of Pluto Snyder the following words issued from his lips:
“Get down there, you cow-headed----”
“Stop the fool!” cried some one, directing his remarks against the
newcomer, rather than Larry.
A constable happening to stand near, and misunderstanding the real
situation, he seized upon Pluto and began to drag him from the scene.
The more the hapless young Snyder struggled the firmer he was held in
the grasp of the officer, who showed him no mercy, but pulled him away,
while the crowd cheered him for his efforts.
In a moment the quiet was restored, but Larry stood dumb with dismay,
unable to know what to do.
“Go on!” cried Job Westcott. “That fellow shan’t pester you any more.”
Others urged Larry to proceed, and, like one taking a leap in the
dark, he again began his speech. The well-rounded periods of the law
student gone from him, Larry was obliged to depend upon himself. It was
the best thing that could have happened to him. Fortunately, too, he
selected a subject familiar to him, and in glowing language he pictured
the lives of those lowly ones dwelling in the narrow streets and dark
alleys of the great city who had never heard of a Fourth of July, much
less tasted of its joys.
As he kept on, Larry really waxed eloquent, and for more than twenty
minutes he held his listeners’ undivided attention.
It was an address which is still talked over at Gainsboro. At its close
a deafening applause, which lasted for several minutes, rang up and
down the grove.
When he stepped down from the platform Larry was greeted by a circle
of admirers, and as soon as she could reach his side Lucy came forward
with her compliments, which were worth more than all the other praise
showered upon him. But he was too confused to speak intelligently.
“It was all a mistake--a miserable mistake, and----”
At this juncture Pluto Snyder, having broken from his captors, reached
the spot, and, boiling with rage, cried out:
“Let me get at the hoodlum! He stole my speech--he is a sneaking----”
Seeing Lucy standing by Larry, he suddenly stopped his storm of abuse,
saying, in a milder tone:
“You here, Miss Lucy, in the company of such a scapegoat? Let us go
home, and I will tell you of the miserable trick he played on me.”
Lucy Howlitt, to whom all this was a mystery, not liking the appearance
of Mr. Snyder under his excitement, declined to go home with him,
pleading that her father was waiting for her.
Thereupon the crestfallen law student went away in a high dudgeon,
using language neither becoming a gentleman or fit to be spoken in the
presence of a lady.
“Come, Lawrence,” said Lucy, “you will please ride home with papa
and me. There is plenty of room, and I want to hear your explanation
of this affair. I did not dream you were capable of making such an
address.”
As she would not take no for an answer, and Mr. Howlitt joined his
invitation with his daughter’s, Larry could do no better than to
accept. On the way home he showed his innate honesty by confessing to
all he knew of the matter of the speech, which did not throw much light
on the situation, though, to his joy, neither Mr. Howlitt nor Lucy
blamed him.
“You say the last part was original with you?” said Lucy. “I think that
was altogether the best, and I am proud of you, Lawrence.”
“Pluto Snyder is a silly coxcomb,” said her father, “and I am glad if
he has been taken down a notch.”
The next day Job Westcott acknowledged that he had caused young Snyder
to miss coming to the celebration in season to address the meeting, and
that his coming at all was simply because the one left in charge of
Pluto had been bought off by the irate “orator.”
“I’ll l’arn him how to use offensive stuff to me. I jess paid off an
old debt, and Larry weren’t a whit to blame. But, by gum! didn’t he hum
with madness! I tell ye, ye never see what it is for one to be mad till
ye hev seen a fool lose his temper.”
Though the Howlitts were disposed to blame Job for the part he had
taken, Larry rose in their estimation, and another’s loss was his gain.
A little later Larry forgot all about his recent triumph by hearing of
the fate which had befallen his sister, and he lost no time in going
home to learn the whole truth.