"Have you heard the news?" cried Carrie Dungen as she sped towards
Martha's kitchen. "Have you heard the news?" Her eyes were shining
with delight.
"No," answered Martha's sister Kate, bending forward eagerly. "What
was it? What was it?"
Carrie appeared triumphantly in the open door. "Oh, there's been an
awful scene between Doctor Trescott and Jake Winter. I never thought
that Jake Winter had any pluck at all, but this morning he told the
doctor just what he thought of him."
"Well, what did he think of him?" asked Martha.
"Oh, he called him everything. Mrs. Howarth heard it through her front
blinds. It was terrible, she says. It's all over town now. Everybody
knows it."
"Didn't the doctor answer back?"
"No! Mrs. Howarth--she says he never said a word. He just walked down
to his buggy and got in, and drove off as co-o-o-l. But Jake gave him
jinks, by all accounts."
"But what did he say?" cried Kate, shrill and excited. She was
evidently at some kind of a feast.
"Oh, he told him that Sadie had never been well since that night Henry
Johnson frightened her at Theresa Page's party, and he held him
responsible, and how dared he cross his threshold--and--and--and--"
"And what?" said Martha.
"Did he swear at him?" said Kate, in fearsome glee.
"No--not much. He did swear at him a little, but not more than a man
does anyhow when he is real mad, Mrs. Howarth says."
"O-oh!" breathed Kate. "And did he call him any names?"
Martha, at her work, had been for a time in deep thought. She now
interrupted the others. "It don't seem as if Sadie Winter had been
sick since that time Henry Johnson got loose. She's been to school
almost the whole time since then, hasn't she?"
They combined upon her in immediate indignation. "School? School? I
should say not. Don't think for a moment. School!"
Martha wheeled from the sink. She held an iron spoon, and it seemed as
if she was going to attack them. "Sadie Winter has passed here many a
morning since then carrying her schoolbag. Where was she going? To a
wedding?"
The others, long accustomed to a mental tyranny, speedily surrendered.
"Did she?" stammered Kate. "I never saw her."
Carrie Dungen made a weak gesture.
"If I had been Doctor Trescott," exclaimed Martha, loudly, "I'd have
knocked that miserable Jake Winter's head off."
Kate and Carrie, exchanging glances, made an alliance in the air. "I
don't see why you say that, Martha," replied Carrie, with considerable
boldness, gaining support and sympathy from Kate's smile. "I don't see
how anybody can be blamed for getting angry when their little girl
gets almost scared to death and gets sick from it, and all that.
Besides, everybody says--"
"Oh, I don't care what everybody says," said Martha.
"Well, you can't go against the whole town," answered Carrie, in
sudden sharp defiance.
"No, Martha, you can't go against the whole town," piped Kate,
following her leader rapidly.
"'The whole town,'" cried Martha. "I'd like to know what you call 'the
whole town.' Do you call these silly people who are scared of Henry
Johnson 'the whole town'?"
"Why, Martha," said Carrie, in a reasoning tone, "you talk as if you
wouldn't be scared of him!"
"No more would I," retorted Martha.
"O-oh, Martha, how you talk!" said Kate. "Why, the idea! Everybody's
afraid of him."
Carrie was grinning. "You've never seen him, have you?" she asked,
seductively.
"No," admitted Martha.
"Well, then, how do you know that you wouldn't be scared?"
Martha confronted her. "Have you ever seen him? No? Well, then, how do
you know you _would_ be scared?"
The allied forces broke out in chorus: "But, Martha, everybody says
so. Everybody says so."
"Everybody says what?"
"Everybody that's seen him say they were frightened almost to death.
Tisn't only women, but it's men too. It's awful."