IV

During the next few days, as one treads farther and farther out upon

thin ice to test it, the Colonel craftily set about regaining,

inch by inch, his lost throne as tyrant. Occasionally he checked

himself in some alarm, to wonder what meant that ridging of the

Cap'n's jaw-muscles, and whether he really heard the seaman's teeth

gritting. Once, when he recoiled before an unusually demoniac glare

from Sproul, the latter whined, after a violent inward struggle:

"It beats all how my rheumaticks has been talkin' up lately. I don't

seem to have no ginger nor spirit left in me. I reckon I got away

from the sea jest in time. I wouldn't even dare to order a nigger

to swab decks, the way I'm feelin' now."

"You've allus made a good deal of talk about how many men you've

handled in your day," said the Colonel, tucking a thumb under his

suspender and leaning back with supercilious cock of his gray

eyebrows. "It's bein' hinted round town here more or less that you're

northin' but bluff. I don't realize, come to think it over, how I

ever come to let you git such a holt in my fam'ly. I--"

The two were sitting, as was their custom in those days of the

Colonel's espionage, under the big maple in the yard. A man who was

passing in the highway paused and leaned on the fence.

"Can one of you gents tell me," he asked, "where such a lady as Miss

Phar"--he consulted a folded paper that he held in his

hand--"Pharleena Pike lives about here?"

He was an elderly man with a swollen nose, striated with purple veins.

Under his arm he carried a bundle done up in meat-paper.

There was a queer glint of excitement in the eyes of the Cap'n. But

he did not speak. He referred the matter to Ward with a jab of his

thumb.

"What do you want to know where Miss Pike lives for?" demanded the

Colonel, looking the stranger over with great disfavor.

"None of your business," replied the man of the swollen nose,

promptly. "I've asked a gent's question of one I took to be a gent,

and I'd like a gent's reply."

"You see," said Cap'n Sproul to the stranger, with a confidential

air, as though he were proposing to impart the secret of the Colonel's

acerbity, "Colonel Ward here is--"

"You go 'long two miles, swing at the drab school-house, and go to

the second white house on the left-hand side of the road!" shouted

Ward, hastily breaking in on the explanation. His thin cheeks flushed

angrily. The man shuffled on.

"Why don't you print it on a play-card that I'm engaged to Pharlina

Pike and hang it on the fence there?" the Colonel snorted, wrathfully,

whirling on the Cap'n. "Didn't it ever occur to you that some things

in this world ain't none of your business?"

The Cap'n sighed with the resigned air that he had been displaying

during the week past.

"Lemme see, where was I?" went on the Colonel, surlily. "I was sayin',

wasn't I, that I didn't see how I'd let you stick yourself into this

fam'ly as you've done? It's time now for you and me to git to a

reck'nin'. There's blamed liars round here snick'rin' in their

whiskers, and sayin' that you've backed me down. Now--"

Another man was at the fence, and interrupted with aggravating

disregard of the Colonel's intentness on the business in hand. This

stranger was short and squat, stood with his feet braced wide apart,

and had a canvas bag slung over his shoulder. His broad face wore

a cheery smile.

"I've beat nor'west from the railroad, fetched a covered bridge on

the port quarter, shipmates," he roared, jovially, "and here I be,

bearin's lost and dead-reck'nin' skow-wowed."

"Seems to be your breed," sneered Ward to the Cap'n. "What's that

he's sayin', put in human language?"

"I'm chartered for port--port"--he also referred to a folded

paper--"to port Furliny Pike, som'eres in this latitude. Give me

p'ints o' compass, will ye?"

Ward leaped to his feet and strode toward the fence, his long legs

working like calipers.

"What do ye want of Pharline Pike?" he demanded, angrily.

"None of your business," replied the cheerful sailor. "If this is

the way landlubbers take an honest man's hail, ye're all jest as bad

as I've heard ye was."

"I'm a mind to cuff your ears," yapped the Colonel.

The other glanced up the angular height of his antagonist.

"Try it," he said, squaring his sturdy little figure. "Try it, and

I'll climb your main riggin' and dance a jig on that dog-vane of a

head of yourn."

This alacrity for combat clearly backed down Ward. In his rampageous

life his tongue had usually served him better than his fists.

"Avast, shipmate!" called the Cap'n, in his best sea tones. The

sailor beamed delighted recognition of marine masonry. "The fact of

the matter is, my friend here has some claim--the truth is, he's--"

"You go 'long two miles, swing at the drab school-house, and then

take the second house--white one--on the left-hand side of the road,"

bawled Ward, "and you go mighty quick!"

The sailor ducked acknowledgment and rolled away.

"If you'd unpinned that mouth of yourn fur enough to tell that tramp

that I'm engaged to Pharline Pike," growled Ward, returning to the

tree, "I'd 'a' broke in your head--and you might as well know it first

as last."

"Ain't you engaged to her?"

"You know I be."

"Well, I've allus told the truth all my life--and I reckon I shall

continner to tell it. If you're ashamed to have it knowed that you're

engaged to Pharlina Pike, then it's time she heard so. I'd jest as

soon tell her as not."

"I started to say to you," raged Ward, "that you'd stuck your finger

into my pie altogether too deep. I ain't killed as many sailors as

you're braggin' on, but there ain't no man ever licked Gid Ward,

and--"

"Near's I can tell from what I hear about you," retorted the Cap'n,

"built on racin' lines as you be, you've never let a man git near

enough to lick ye."

Again the Colonel noted that red vengefulness in the skipper's eyes,

and recoiled suspiciously.

"Oh, my rheumaticks!" the seaman hastened to moan.

Ward had his back to the fence.

"I cal'late as how there's another party that wants his bearin's,"

suggested Sproul.

A rather decayed-looking gentleman, wearing a frock-coat shiny at

the elbows, and a fuzzy plug-hat, was tapping his cane against one

of the pickets to attract attention.

"I am looking for the residence of Miss Pharlina Pike," he announced,

with a precise puckering of his lips. "I'll thank you for a word of

direction. But I want to say, as a lowly follower of the Lord--in

evangelical lines--that it is not seemly for two men to quarrel in

public."

Ward had been gaping at him in amazement.

"I can tell ye right now," he cried, "that Miss Pharline Pike ain't

hirin' no farm-hand that wears a plug-hat! There ain't no need of

your goin' to her place."

"My dear sir," smiled the decayed gentleman, "it is a delicate matter

not to be canvassed in public; but I can assure you that I shall not

remain with Miss Pike as a menial or a bond-servant. Oh no! Not by

any means, sir!"

Ward scruffed his hand over his forehead, blinking with puzzled

astonishment.

"I'll thank you for the directions," said the stranger. "They were

not able to give me exact instructions at the village--at least, I

cannot remember them."

"I ain't no dadfired guide-board to stand here all day and p'int the

way to Pharline Pike's," roared Ward, with a heat that astonished

the decayed gentleman.

"I don't want no elder to go away from this place and report that

he wa'n't used respectful," said Sproul, meekly, addressing the

stranger. "You'll have to excuse Colonel Ward here. P'r'aps I can

say for him, as a pertickler friend, what it wouldn't be modest for

him to say himself. The fact is, he's en--"

The infuriated Ward leaped up and down on the sward and shrieked the

road instructions to the wayfarer, who hustled away, casting

apprehensive glances over his shoulder.

But when the Colonel turned again on the Cap'n, the latter rose and

hobbled with extravagant limpings toward the house.

"I don't reckon I can stay out here and pass talk with you,

brother-in-law," he called back, reproachfully. "Strangers, passin'

as they be, don't like to hear no such language as you're usin'. Jest

think of what that elder said!"

Ward planted himself upon a garden chair, and gazed down the road

in the direction in which the strangers had gone. He seemed to be

thinking deeply, and the Cap'n watched him from behind one of the

front-room curtains.

Two more men passed up the road. At the first, the Colonel flourished

his arms and indulged in violent language, the gist of which the Cap'n

did not catch. He ran to the fence when the second accosted him, tore

off a picket, and flung it after the fleeing man.

Then he sat down and pondered more deeply still.

He cast occasional glances toward the house, and once or twice arose

as though to come in. But he sat down and continued to gaze in the

direction of Pharlina Pike's house.

It was late in the afternoon when a woman came hurrying down the slope

through the maple-sugar grove. The Cap'n, at his curtain with his

keen sea eye, saw her first. He had been expecting her arrival. He

knew her in the distance for Pharlina Pike, and realized that she

had come hot-foot across lots.

Sproul was under the big maple as soon as she.

"For mercy sakes, Colonel Gid," she gasped, "come over to my house

as quick's you can!"

She had come up behind him, and he leaped out of his chair with a

snap like a jack-in-the-box.

"There's somethin' on, and I knowed it!" he squalled. "What be them

men peradin' past here to your house for, and tellin' me it ain't

none of my business? You jest tell me, Pharline Pike, what you mean

by triflin' in this way?"

"Lord knows what it's all about! I don't!" she quavered.

"You do know, too!" he yelled. "Don't ye try to pull wool over my

eyes! You do know, too!"

"It's a turrible thing to be jealous," cooed Cap'n Sproul to his

trembling little wife, who had followed at his heels.

"I don't know, either," wailed the spinster. "There's one of 'em in

the settin'-room balancin' a plug-hat on his knees and sayin', 'Lo!

the bridegroom cometh'; and there's two on the front steps kickin'

the dog ev'ry time he comes at 'em; and there's one in the kitchen

that smells o' tar, and has got a bagful of shells and sech things

for presents to me; there's one in the barn lookin' over the

stock--and I s'pose they're comin' down the chimbly and up the suller

stairs by this time. You're the only one I've got in the world to

depend on, Colonel Gid. For mercy sakes, come!"

"What do they say--what's their excuse?" he demanded, suspiciously.

"They say--they say," she wailed--"they say they want to marry me,

but I don't know what they've all come hov'rin' round me for--honest

to Moses I don't!" She folded her hands in her apron and wrung them.

"I'm pretty nigh scart to death of 'em," she sobbed.

"I reckon you can give 'em an earful when you git down there," said

the Cap'n, "when you tell 'em that you've been engaged to her for

fifteen years. But it ain't none surprisin' that men that hear of

that engagement should most natch'ally conclude that a woman would

like to git married after a while. I cal'late ye see now,

brother-in-law, that you ain't the only man that appreciates what

a good woman Miss Pharlina Pike is."

"You come along, Pharline," said the Colonel, taking her arm, after

he had bored the Cap'n for a moment with flaming eye. "I reckon I

can pertect ye from all the tramps ever let loose out of

jails--and--and when I git to the bottom of this I predict there'll

be bloodshed--there'll be bones broke, anyway." With one more

malevolent look at the Cap'n he started away.

"It's only a short cut through the maple growth, Louada Murilla,"

said Sproul. "My rheumaticks is a good deal better of a sudden. Let's

you and me go along."

As they trudged he saw farmers at a distance here and there, and

called to them to follow.

"Look here, I don't need no bee!" howled the Colonel. "This ain't

nothing to spread broadcast in this community."

"Never can tell what's li'ble to happen," retorted Sproul.

"Witnesses don't never hurt cases like this."

He continued to call the farmers, despite Ward's objurgations.

Farmers called their wives. All followed behind the engaged couple.

As usually happens in country communities, word had gone abroad in

other directions that there were strange doings at the Pike place.

With huge satisfaction the Cap'n noted that the yard was packed with

spectators.

"Where be ye?" bellowed Colonel Ward, now in a frenzy. "Where be ye,

ye scalawags that are round tryin' to hector a respectable woman that

wouldn't wipe her feet on ye? Come out here and talk to me!"

The neighbors fell back, recognizing his authority in the matter;

and the men who were suing this modern Penelope appeared from various

parts of the premises.

"I desire to say, as a clergyman along evangelical lines, and not

a settled pastor," said the man in the fuzzy plug-hat, "that I do

not approve of this person's violent language. I have seen him once

before to-day, and he appeared singularly vulgar and unrefined. He

used violent language then. I desire to say to you, sir, that I am

here on the best of authority"--he tapped his breast pocket--"and

here I shall remain until I have discussed the main question

thoroughly with the estimable woman who has invited me here."

"It's a lie--I never invited him, Colonel Gid!" cried the spinster.

"If you're any part of a man, and mean any part of what you have allus

said to me, you'll make him take that back."

For a moment the Colonel's jealous suspicion had flamed again, but

the woman's appeal fired him in another direction.

"Look here, you men," he shouted, his gaze running over plug-hat,

swollen nose, seaman's broad face, and the faces of the other suitors,

"I'm Gideon Ward, of Smyrna, and I've been engaged to Miss Pharline

Pike for fifteen years, and--"

"Then I don't blame her for changing her mind, ye bloody landlubber!"

snorted the seaman, smacking his hand upon his folded paper.

"Being engaged signifies little in the courts of matrimony," said

the decayed-looking man with dignity. "She has decided to choose

another, and--"

Colonel Ward threw back his shoulders and faced them all with

glittering eyes.

"I'd like to see the man that can step into this town and lug off

the woman that's promised to me," he raved. "Engagements don't hold,

hey? Then you come this way a week from to-day, and you'll see Gideon

Ward and Pharline Pike married as tight as a parson can tie the knot.

I mean it!" The excitement of the moment, his rage at interference

in his affairs, his desire to triumph thus publicly over these

strangers, had led him into the declaration.

The spinster gasped, but she came to him and trustfully put her hand

on his arm.

"P'raps some can be put off by that bluff," said the man with the

swollen nose, "but not me that has travelled. I'm here on business,

and I've got the dockyments, and if there's any shenanigan, then some

one's got to pay me my expenses, and for wear and tear." He waved

a paper.

Ward leaped forward and snatched the paper from his grasp.

"It's about time for me to see what you're flourishing round here

promiskous, like a bill o' sale of these primises," he snarled.

"You can read it, and read it out jest as loud as you want to," said

the man, coming forward and putting a grimy finger on a paragraph

displayed prominently on the folded sheet of newspaper.

The Colonel took one look and choked. An officious neighbor grabbed

away the paper when Ward made a sign as though to tuck it into his

pocket.

"I'll read it," said the neighbor. "Mebbe my eyesight is better'n

yourn." Then he read, in shrill tones:

"NOTICE TO BACHELORS

"Unmarried maiden lady, smart and good-looking, desires good husband.

Has two-hundred-and-thirty-acre farm in good state of cultivation,

well stocked, and will promise right party a home and much affection.

Apply on premises to Pharlina Pike, Smyrna."

"I never--I never--dadrat the liar that ever wrote that!" screamed

the spinster.

"You see for yourself," said the man of the swollen nose, ignoring

her disclaimer. "We're here on business, and expect to be treated

like business men--or expenses refunded to us."

But the Colonel roared wordlessly, like some angry animal, seized

a pitchfork that was leaning against the side of the spinster's ell,

and charged the group of suitors. His mien was too furious. They fled,

and fled far and forever.

"There's some one," said Ward, returning into the yard and driving

the fork-tines into the ground, "who has insulted Miss Pike. I'd give

a thousand dollars to know who done that writin'."

Only bewildered stares met his furious gaze.

"I want you to understand," he went on, "that no one can drive me

to git married till I'm ready. But I'm standin' here now and tellin'

the nosy citizens of this place that I'm ready to be married, and

so's she who is goin' to be my companion, and we'll 'tend to our own

business in spite of the gossips of Smyrna. It's for this day week!

I don't want no more lyin' gossip about it. You're gittin' it straight

this time. It's for this day week; no invitations, no cards, no

flowers, no one's durnation business. There, take that home and chaw

on it. Pharline, let's you and me go into the house."

"I reckon there's witnesses enough to make that bindin'," muttered

Cap'n Sproul under his breath.

He bent forward and tapped the Colonel on the arm as Ward was about

to step upon the piazza.

"Who do ye suspect?" he whispered, hoarsely.

It was a perfectly lurid gaze that his brother-in-law turned on him.

What clutched Ward's arm was a grip like a vise. He glared into the

Colonel's eyes with light fully as lurid as that which met his gaze.

He spoke low, but his voice had the grating in it that is more ominous

than vociferation.

"I thought I'd warn ye not to twit. My rheumaticks is a good deal

better at this writin', and my mind ain't so much occupied by other

matters as it has been for a week or so. When you come home don't

talk northin' but business, jest as you natch'ally would to a

brother-in-law and an equal pardner. That advice don't cost northin',

but it's vallyble."

As Cap'n Sproul trudged home, his little wife's arm tucked snugly

in the hook of his own, he observed, soulfully:

"Mattermony, Louada Murilla--mattermony, it is a blessed state that

it does the heart good to see folks git into as ought to git into

it. As the poet says--um-m-m, well, it's in that book on the

settin'-room what-not. I'll read it to ye when we git home."

V

Cap'n Aaron Sproul was posted that bright afternoon on the end of

his piazza. He sat bolt upright and twiddled his gnarled thumbs

nervously. His wife came out and sat down beside him.

"Where you left off, Cap'n," she prompted meekly, "was when the black,

whirling cloud was coming and you sent the men up-stairs--"

"Aloft!" snapped Cap'n Sproul.

"I mean aloft--and they were unfastening the sails off the ropes,

and--"

"Don't talk of snuggin' a ship like you was takin' in a wash," roared

the ship-master, in sudden and ungallant passion. It was the first

impatient word she had received from him in that initial, cozy year

of their marriage. Her mild brown eyes swam in tears as she looked

at him wonderingly.

"I--I haven't ever seen a ship or the sea, but I'm trying so hard

to learn, and I love so to hear you talk of the deep blue ocean. It

was what first attracted me to you." Her tone was almost a whimper.

But her meekness only seemed to increase the Cap'n's impatience.

"You haven't seemed to be like your natural self for a week," she

complained, wistfully. "You haven't seemed to relish telling me

stories of the sea and your narrow escapes. You haven't even seemed

to relish vittles and the scenery. Oh, haven't you been weaned from

the sea yet, Aaron?"

Cap'n Sproul continued to regard his left foot with fierce gloom.

He was giving it his undivided attention. It rested on a wooden

"cricket," and was encased in a carpet slipper that contrasted

strikingly with the congress boot that shod his other foot. Red roses

and sprays of sickly green vine formed the pattern of the carpet

slipper. The heart of a red rose on the toe had been cut out, as though

the cankerworm had eaten it; and on a beragged projection that stuck

through and exhaled the pungent odor of liniment, the Cap'n's

lowering gaze was fixed.

"There's always somethin' to be thankful for," said his meek wife,

her eyes following his gaze. "You've only sprained it, and didn't

break it. Does it still ache, dear?"

"It aches like--of course it aches!" roared the Cap'n. "Don't ask

that jeebasted, fool question ag'in. I don't mean to be tetchy,

Louada Murilla," he went on, after a little pause, a bit of mildness

in his tone, "but you've got to make allowance for the way I feel.

The more I set and look at that toe the madder I git at myself. Oh,

I hadn't ought to have kicked that cousin of yourn, that's what I

hadn't!"

"You don't know how glad I am to hear you say that, Aaron," she cried,

with fervor. "I was afraid you hadn't repented."

"I ought to 'a' hit him with a club and saved my toe, that's what

I mean," he snorted, with grim viciousness.

She sighed, and he resumed his dismal survey of the liniment-soaked

rags.

"Once when I was--" he resumed, in a low growl, after a time.

"Oh, I'm so glad you're goin' to tell a story, Cap'n," she chirped,

welcoming his first return of good-nature since his mishap.

"There ain't no story to it," he snapped. "I only want to say that

there's a place down in Africa where I put in with the _Jefferson

P. Benn_ one time, where they daub honey on folks that they want to

git red of, and anchor 'em on an ant-bed. That's jest what's happenin'

to me here in Smyrna, and my thutty thousand dollars that I've worked

hard for and earnt and saved is the honey. You've lived among them

here all your life, Louada Murilla, and I s'pose you've got more or

less wonted to 'em. But if I hadn't squirmed and thrashed round a

little durin' the time I've lived here, after marryin' you and

settlin' down among 'em, they'd have et me, honey, money, hide, and

hair. As it is, they've got their little lunch off'm me. I haven't

thrashed round enough till--till yistiddy."

He wriggled the toe in the centre of the rose, and grunted.

"I was in hopes we wouldn't have any more trouble in the family, only

what we've had with brother Gideon since we've been married," she

said mildly. "Of course, Marengo Todd is only a second cousin of mine,

but still, he's in the family, you know, and families hang together,

'cause blood--"

"Blood is what they want, blast 'em!" he bawled, angrily. "I've used

Marengo Orango, there, or whatever you call him, all right, ain't

I? I've let him do me! He knowed I was used to sea ways, and wa'n't

used to land ways, and that he _could_ do me. I lent him money, first

off, because I liked you. And I've lent him money sence because I

like a liar--and he's a good one! I've used all your relatives the

best I've knowed how, and--and they've turned round and used me! But

I've put a dot, full-stop, period to it--and I done it with that toe,"

he added, scowling at the pathetic heart of the red rose.

"I wish it hadn't been one of the family," she sighed.

"It couldn't well help bein' one," snarled the Cap'n. "They're about

all named Todd or Ward round here but one, and his name is Todd Ward

Brackett, and he's due next. And they're all tryin' to borry money

off'm me and sell me spavined hosses. Now, let's see if they can take

a hint." He tentatively wriggled the toe some more, and groaned. "The

Todds and the Wards better keep away from me."

Then he suddenly pricked up his ears at the sound of the slow rumble

of a wagon turning into the yard. The wagon halted, and they heard

the buzzing twang of a jew's-harp, played vigorously.

"There's your Todd Ward Brackett. I predicted him! 'Round here to

sell ye rotten thread and rusted tinware and his all-fired Balm o'

Joy liniment."

"It's good liniment, and I need some more for your toe, Aaron,"

pleaded his wife, putting her worsted out of her lap.

"I'll chop that toe off and use it for cod bait before I'll cure it

by buying any more liniment off'm him," the Cap'n retorted. "You jest

keep your settin', Louada Murilla. I'll tend to your fam'ly end after

this."

He struggled up and began to hop toward the end of the piazza. The

new arrival had burst into cheery song:

"There was old Hip Huff, who went by freight

To Newry Corner, in this State.

Packed him in a--"

There was a red van in the yard, its side bearing the legend: