For the rest of the professor's engagement Cap'n Aaron Sproul and
Hiram Look kept sullenly to their castles, nursing indignant sense
of their wrongs. They got an occasional whiff of the scandal that
was pursuing their names. Though their respective wives strove with
pathetic loyalty to disbelieve all that the seeress had hinted at,
and moved in sad silence about their duties, it was plain that the
seed of evil had been planted deep in their imaginations. Poor human
nature is only what it is, after all!
"Two better women never lived than them of ourn, and two that would
be harder to turn," said Hiram to the Cap'n, "but it wouldn't be human
nature if they didn't wonder sometimes what we'd been up to all them
years before we showed up here, and what that cussed occulter said
has torched 'em on to thinkin' mighty hard. The only thing to do is
to keep a stiff upper lip and wait till the clouds roll by. They'll
come to their senses and be ashamed of themselves, give 'em time and
rope enough."
Second Selectman Batson Reeves busied himself as a sort of master
of ceremonies for Professor Derolli, acted as committee of
investigation when the professor's "stock subject" remained for a
day and night in a shallow trench in the village cemetery, and even
gave them the best that his widower's house could afford at a Sunday
dinner.
In the early flush of an August morning about a week after the
departure of the hypnotic marvel and his companions, a mutual impulse
seemed to actuate Selectman Sproul and Hiram Look at a moment
surprisingly simultaneous. They started out their back doors, took
the path leading over the hill between their farms, and met under
the poplars at a point almost exactly half-way. It would be difficult
to state which face expressed the most of embarrassed concern as they
stood silently gazing at each other.
"I was comin' over to your house," said Hiram.
"I was startin' for yourn," said the Cap'n.
Then both, like automatons pulled by the same string, dove hand into
breast-pocket and pulled out a crumpled letter.
"Well, I'll be dummed!" quoth the two in one voice.
"I don't understand northin' about it," said Hiram, plaintively.
"But whatever it is, it has put me in a devil of a fix."
"If you're havin' any more trouble to your house than I'm havin' over
to mine, then you've somethin' that I don't begrudge you none," added
the Cap'n, gloomily.
"Woman left it," related Hiram. "It was in the edge of the evenin',
and I hadn't come in from the barn. Woman throwed it onto the piazza
and run. Reckon she waited her chance so't my wife would get holt
of it. She did. She read it. And it's hell 'n' repeat on the Look
premises."
"Ditto and the same, word for word," said the Cap'n.
"The handwritin' ain't much different," said the ex-showman,
clutching Sproul's letter and comparing the two sheets. "But it's
wimmen's work with a pen--there ain't no gettin' round that."
Then his voice broke into quavering rage as he went on.
"You jest think of a lovin', trustin', and confidin' woman gettin'
holt of a gob of p'isen like that!" He shook the crackling sheet over
his head. "'Darlin' Hiram, how could you leave me, but if you will
come away with me now all will be forgiven and forgotten, from one
who loves you truly and well, and has followed you to remind you of
your promise.' My Gawd, Cap'n, ain't that something to raise a
blister on the motto, 'God Bless Our Home'?"
"It's done it over to my house," said the Cap'n, lugubriously.
"There never was any such woman--there never could have been any such
woman," Hiram went on in fervid protest. "There ain't nobody with
a license to chase me up."
"Ditto and the same," chimed in Cap'n Sproul.
"No one!"
"No one!" echoed the Cap'n.
They stood and looked at each other a little while, and then their
eyes shifted in some embarrassment.
"Of course," said Hiram, at last, moderating his tone of indignation,
"when a man ain't had no anchor he might have showed attentions such
as ladies expect from gents, and sometimes rash promises is made.
Now, perhaps--you understand I'm only supposin'--perhaps you've got
some one in mind that might have misjudged what you said to her--some
one that's got a little touched in her head, perhaps, and she's come
here. In that case it might give us a clue if you're a mind to own
up."
The Cap'n flushed at this clumsy attempt of Hiram to secure a
confidence.
"Seein' that you've thought how it might be done all so quick and
handy, showin' what's on your mind, I reckon you'd better lay down
cards first," he said, significantly.
"I think it's jest a piece of snigdom by some one tryin' to hurt us,"
proceeded Hiram, boring the Cap'n with inquisitive gaze. "But you
never can tell what's what in this world, and so long as we're looking
for clues we might as well have an understandin', so's to see if
there's any such thing as two wimmen meetin' accidental and comparin'
notes and gettin' their heads together."
"None for me," said the Cap'n, but he said it falteringly.
"Well, there's none for me, either, but there's such a thing as havin'
what you've said misjudged by wimmen. Where the wimmen ain't
strong-headed, you know." He hesitated for a time, fiddling his
forefinger under his nose. "There was just one woman I made talk to
in my life such as a gent shouldn't have made without backin' it up.
If she'd been stronger in her head I reckon she'd have realized that
bein' sick, like I was, and not used to wimmen, and bein' so grateful
for all her care and attention and kindness and head-rubbin', I was
sort of took unawares, as you might say. A stronger-headed woman
would have said to herself that it wasn't to be laid up against me.
But as soon as I got to settin' up and eatin' solid food I could see
that she was sappy, and prob'ly wanted to get out of nussin' and get
married, and so she had it all written down on her nuss-diary what
I said, mixed in with temperature, pulse, and things. I--"
Cap'n Sproul's eyes had been widening, and his tongue was nervously
licking wisps of whisker between his lips.
"Was that in a Bost'n horsepittle?" he asked, with eager interest.
"That's where. In the fall three years ago. Pneumony."
"Mine was rheumatic fever two years ago," said the Cap'n. "It's what
drove me off'm deep water. She was fat, wasn't she, and had light
hair and freckles across the bridge of her nose, and used to set side
of the bed and hum: 'I'm a pilgrim, faint and weary'?"
"Damme if you didn't ring the bell with that shot!" cried the old
showman in astonishment.
"Well, it's just ditto and the same with me," said the Cap'n, rapping
his knuckles on his breast. "Same horsepittle, same nuss, same thing
generally--only when I was sickest I told her I had property wuth
about thutty thousand dollars."
"So did I," announced Hiram. "It's funny that when a man's drunk or
sick he's got to tell first comers all he knows, and a good deal more!"
He ran his eyes up and down over Cap'n Sproul with fresh interest.
"If that don't beat tophet! You and me both at that horsepittle and
gettin' mixed up with the same woman!"
"This world ain't got no special bigness," said the Cap'n. "I've
sailed round it a dozen times, and I know."
The showman grasped the selectman by the coat-lapel and demanded
earnestly: "Didn't you figger it as I did, when you got so you could
set up and take notice, that she wasn't all right in her head?"
"Softer'n a jelly-fish!" declared the Cap'n, with unction.
"Then she's got crazier, and up all of a sudden and followed us--and
don't care which one she gets!"
"Or else got sensibler and remembered our property and come around
to let blood."
"Bound to make trouble, anyway."
"She's made it!" The Cap'n turned doleful gaze over his shoulder at
the chimney of his house.
"Bein' crazy she can make a lot more of it. I tell you, Cap'n, there's
only this to do, and it ought to work with wimmen-folks as sensible
as our'n are. We'll swap letters, and go back home and tell the whole
story and set ourselves straight. They're bound to see the right side
of it."
"There ain't any reckonin' on what a woman will do," observed the
Cap'n, gloomily. "The theory of tellin' the truth sounds all right,
and _is_ all right, of course. But I read somewhere, once, that a
woman thrives best on truth diluted with a little careful and
judicious lyin'. And the feller seemed to know what he was talkin'
about."
"It's the truth for me this time," cried Hiram, stoutly.
"Well, then, ditto and the same for me. But if it's comin' on to blow,
we might as well get another anchor out. I'll start Constable Denslow
'round town to see what he can see. If he's sly enough and she's still
here he prob'ly can locate her. And if he can scare her off, so much
the better."
Constable Denslow, intrusted with only scant and vague information,
began his search for a supposed escaped lunatic that day. Before
nightfall he reported to the Cap'n that there were no strangers in
town. However, right on the heels of that consoling information came
again that terror who travelled by night! In the dusk of early evening
another letter was left for Aaron Sproul, nor was the domicile of
Hiram Look slighted by the mysterious correspondent.
Moved by common impulse the victims met in the path across the fields
next morning.
"Another one of them bumbs dropped at my house last night!" stated
Hiram, though the expression on his countenance had rendered that
information superfluous.
"Ditto and the same," admitted the Cap'n. "Haven't brought yourn,
have you?"
"Wife's holdin' onto it for evidence when she gets her bill of
divorce," said Hiram.
"Ditto with me," affirmed Cap'n Sproul. "Tellin' mine the truth was
what really started her mad up. It was just plain mystery up to that
time, and she only felt sorry. When I told her the truth she said
if it was that bad it would prob'ly turn out to be worse, and so long's
I'd owned up to a part of it I'd better go ahead and tell the rest,
and so on! And now she won't believe anything I try to tell her."
"Same over to my place," announced his despondent friend.
"It's your own cussed fault," blazed the Cap'n. "My notion was to
lie to 'em. You can make a lie smooth and convincin'. The truth of
this thing sounds fishy. It would sound fishy to me if I didn't know
it was so."
"Since I got out of the circus business I've been tryin' to do
business with less lyin', but it doesn't seem to work," mourned Hiram.
"Maybe what's good for the circus business is good for all kinds.
Seems to be that way! Well, when you'd told her the straight truth
and had been as square as you could, what did you say to her when
she flared up?"
"Northin'," answered the Cap'n. "Didn't seem to be northin' to say
to fit the case."
"Not after the way they took the truth when it was offered to 'em,"
agreed Hiram. "I didn't say anything out loud. I said it to myself,
and it would have broke up the party if a little bird had twittered
it overhead at a Sunday-school picnic."
That day Jackson Denslow, pricked by a fee of ten dollars, made more
searching investigation. It was almost a census. Absolutely no trace
of such a stranger! Denslow sullenly said that such a domiciliary
visit was stirring up a lot of talk, distrust, and suspicion, and,
as he couldn't answer any questions as to who she was, where she came
from, and what was wanted of her, nor hint as to who his employers
were, it was currently stated that he had gone daffy over the
detective business. His tone of voice indicated that he thought
others were similarly afflicted. He allowed that no detective could
detect until he had all the facts.
He demanded information and sneered when it was not given.
It was an unfortunate attitude to take toward men, the triggers of
whose tempers had been cocked by such events as had beset Hiram Look
and Aaron Sproul. Taking it that the constable was trying to pry into
their business in order to regale the public on their misfortunes,
Hiram threw a town-ledger at him, and the Cap'n kicked at him as he
fled through the door of the office.
That night each was met at the front door by hysterics, and a third
letter. The mystery was becoming eerie.
"Dang rabbit her miserable pelt!" growled Hiram at the despairing
morning conference under the poplars. "She must be livin' in a hole
round here, or else come in a balloon. I tell you, Cap'n Sproul, it's
got to be stopped some way or the two families will be in the lunatic
asylum inside of a week."
"Or more prob'ly in the divorce court. Louada Murilla vows and
declares she'll get a bill if I don't tell her the truth, and when
you've told the truth once and sworn to it, and it don't stick, what
kind of a show is a lie goin' to stand, when a man ain't much of a
liar?"
"If she's goin' to be caught we've got to catch her," insisted Hiram.
"She's crazy, or else she wouldn't be watchin' for us to leave the
house so as to grab in and toss one of them letters. Looks to me it's
just revenge, and to make trouble. The darned fool can't marry both
of us. I didn't sleep last night--not with that woman of mine settin'
and boohooin'. I just set and thought. And the result of the thinkin'
is that we'll take our valises to-day and march to the
railroad-station in the face and eyes of everybody so that it will
get spread round that we've gone. And we'll come back by team from
some place down the line, and lay low either round your premises or
mine and ketch that infernal, frowzle-headed sister of Jim the Penman
by the hind leg and snap her blasted head off."
"What be you goin' to tell the wimmen?"
"Tell 'em northin'."
"There'll be the devil to pay. They'll think we're elopin'."
"Well, let 'em think," said Hiram, stubbornly. "They can't do any
harder thinkin' than I've been thinkin', and they can't get a divorce
in one night. When we ketch that woman we can preach a sermon to 'em
with a text, and she'll be the text."
Cap'n Sproul sighed and went for his valise.
"What she said to me as I come away curled the leaves in the front
yard," confided Hiram, as they walked together down the road.
"Ditto and the same," mourned the Cap'n.
At dusk that evening they dismounted from a Vienna livery-hitch on
a back road in Smyrna, paid the driver and dismissed the team, and
started briskly through the pastures across lots toward Hiram Look's
farm.
An hour later, moving with the stealth of red Indians, they posted
themselves behind the stone wall opposite the lane leading into the
Look dooryard. They squatted there breathing stertorously, their
eyes goggling into the night.
The Cap'n, with vision trained by vigils at sea, was the first to
see the dim shape approaching. When she had come nearer they saw a
tall feather nodding against the dim sky.
"Let's get her before she throws the letter--get her with the goods
on her!" breathed Hiram, huskily. And when she was opposite they
leaped the stone wall.
She had seasonable alarm, for several big stones rolled off the
wall's top. And she turned and ran down the road with the two men
pounding along fiercely in pursuit.
"My Gawd!" gasped Aaron, after a dozen rods; "talk
about--gayzelles--she's--she's--"
He didn't finish the sentence, preferring to save his breath.
But skirts are an awkward encumbrance in a sprinting match. Hiram,
with longer legs than the pudgy Cap'n, drew ahead and overhauled the
fugitive foot by foot. And at sound of his footsteps behind her, and
his hoarse grunt, "I've got ye!" she whirled and, before the amazed
showman could protect himself, she struck out and knocked him flat
on his back. But when she turned again to run she stepped on her skirt,
staggered forward dizzily, and fell in a heap. The next instant the
Cap'n tripped over Hiram, tumbled heavily, rolled over twice, and
brought up against the prostrate fugitive, whom he clutched in a
grasp there was no breaking.
"Don't let her hit ye," howled Hiram, struggling up. "She's got an
arm like a mule's hind leg."
"And whiskers like a goat!" bawled the Cap'n, choking in utter
astonishment. "Strike a match and let's see what kind of a
blamenation catfish this is, anyhow."
And a moment later, the Cap'n's knees still on the writhing figure,
they beheld, under the torn veil, by the glimmer of the match, the
convulsed features of Batson Reeves, second selectman of the town
of Smyrna.
"Well, marm," remarked Hiram, after a full thirty seconds of amazed
survey, "you've sartinly picked out a starry night for a ramble."
Mr. Reeves seemed to have no language for reply except some shocking
oaths.
"That ain't very lady-like talk," protested Look, lighting another
match that he might gloat still further. "You ought to remember that
you're in the presence of your two 'darlin's.' We can't love any one
that cusses. You'll be smokin' a pipe or chawin' tobacker next." He
chuckled, and then his voice grew hard. "Stop your wigglin', you
blasted, livin' scarecrow, or I'll split your head with a rock, and
this town will call it good reddance. Roll him over onto his face,
Cap'n Sproul."
A generous strip of skirt, torn off by Reeves's boot, lay on the
ground. Hiram seized it and bound the captive's arms behind his back.
"Now let him up, Cap," he commanded, and the two men helped the
unhappy selectman to his feet.
"So it's you, hey?" growled Hiram, facing him. "Because I've come
here to this town and found a good woman and married her, and saved
her from bein' fooled into marryin' a skunk like you, you've put up
this job, hey? Because Cap'n Sproul has put you where you belong in
town business, you're tryin' to do him, too, hey? What do you reckon
we're goin' to do with you?"
It was evident that Mr. Reeves was not prepared to state. He
maintained a stubborn silence.
Cap'n Sproul had picked up the hat with the tall feather and was
gingerly revolving it in his hands.
"You're a nice widderer, you are!" snorted Hiram. "A man that will
wear a deceased's clothes in order to help him break up families and
spread sorrow and misery round a neighborhood, would be a second
husband to make a woman both proud and pleased. Cap'n, put that hat
and veil back onto him. I'll hold him."
Mr. Reeves consented to stand still only after he had received a
half-dozen open-handed buffets that made his head ring.
"There!" ejaculated Hiram, after the Cap'n's unaccustomed fingers
had arranged the head-gear. "Bein' that you're dressed for company,
we'll make a few calls. Grab a-holt, Cap'n."
"I'll die in my tracks right here, first," squalled Reeves, guessing
their purpose. But he was helpless in their united clutch. They
rushed him up the lane, tramped along the piazza noisily, jostled
through the front door, and presented him before Hiram's astounded
wife.
"Mis' Look," said her husband, "here's the lady that's in love with
me, and that has been leavin' me letters. It bein' the same lady that
was once in love with you, I reckon you'll appreciate my feelin's
in the matter. There's just one more clue that we need to clinch this
thing--and that's another one of those letters. The Cap'n and I don't
know how to find a pocket in a woman's dress. We're holdin' this lady.
You hunt for the pocket, Mis' Look."
The amazement on her comely face changed to sudden and indignant
enlightenment.
"The miserable scalawag!" she cried. The next instant, with one
thrust of her hand, she had the damning evidence. There were two
letters.
"She ain't delivered the one to darlin' Cap'n Sproul this evenin',"
Hiram remarked, persisting still in his satiric use of the feminine
pronoun. "If you'll put on your bonnet, Mis' Look, we'll all sa'nter
acrost to the Cap'n's and see that Louada Murilla gets hers. Near's
I can find out, the rules of this special post-office is that all
love-letters to us pass through our wives' hands."
In the presence of Mrs. Sproul, after the excitement of the dramatic
entrance had subsided, the unhappy captive attempted excuses,
cringing pitifully.
"I didn't think of it all by myself," he bleated. "It was what the
Dawn woman said, and then when I mentioned that I had some grudges
agin' the same parties she wrote the notes, and the perfessor planned
the rest, so't we could both get even. But it wasn't my notion. I
reckon he mesmerized me into it. I ain't to blame. Them mesmerists
has awful powers."
"Ya-a-a-as, that's probably just the way of it!" sneered Hiram, with
blistering sarcasm. "But you'll be unmesmerized before we get done
with you. There's nothin' like makin' a good job of your cure, seein'
that you was unfort'nit' enough to get such a dose of it that it's
lasted you a week. Grab him, Cap'n."
"What be ye goin' to do now?" quavered Reeves.
"Take you down into the village square, and, as foreman of the Ancient
and Honer'ble Firemen's Association, I'll ring the bell and call out
the department, stand you up in front of them all in your flounces
fine, and tell 'em what you've been doin' to their chief. I guess
all the heavy work of gettin' even with you will be taken off'm my
hands after that."
Reeves groaned.
"As first selectman," broke in the Cap'n, "and interested in keepin'
bad characters out of town, I shall suggest that they take and ride
you into Vienny on a rail."
"With my fife and drum corps ahead," shouted Hiram, warming to the
possibilities.
"I'll die here in my tracks first!" roared the captive.
"It's kind of apparent that Madame Dawn didn't give you lessons in
prophesyin', along with the rest of her instruction," remarked Hiram.
"That makes twice this evenin' that you've said you were goin' to
die, and you're still lookin' healthy. Come along! Look happy, for
you're goin' to be queen of the May, mother!"
But when they started to drag him from the room both women interposed.
"Hiram, dear," pleaded his wife, "please let the man go. Louada
Murilla and I know now what a scalawag he is, and we know how we've
misjudged both you and Cap'n Sproul, and we'll spend the rest of our
lives showin' you that we're sorry. But let him go! If you make any
such uproar as you're talkin' of it will all come out that he made
your wives believe that you were bad men. It will shame us to death,
Hiram. Please let him go."
"Please let him go, Aaron," urged Mrs. Sproul, with all the fervor
of her feelings. "It will punish him worst if you drop him here and
now, like a snake that you've picked up by mistake."
Cap'n Sproul and Hiram Look stared at each other a long time,
meditating. They went apart and mumbled in colloquy. Then the Cap'n
trudged to his front door, opened it, and held it open. Hiram cut
the strip that bound their captive's wrists.
The second selectman had not the courage to raise his eyes to meet
the stares directed on him. With head bowed and the tall feather
nodding over his face he slunk out into the night. And Hiram and the
Cap'n called after him in jovial chorus:
"Good-night, marm!"
"This settling down in life seems to be more or less of a complicated
performance," observed Cap'n Sproul when the four of them were alone,
"but just at this minute I feel pretty well settled. I reckon I've
impressed it on a few disturbers in this town that I'm the sort of
a man that's better left alone. It looks to me like a long, calm spell
of weather ahead."