First Selectman Sproul halted for a few moments on the steps of the
town house the next morning in order to gaze out surlily on the
left-overs of that day of celebration. Smyrna's village square was
unsightly with a litter of evil-smelling firecracker remnants, with
torn paper bags, broken canes, dented tin horns and all the usual
flotsam marking the wake of a carnival crowd.
Constable Nute came tramping to him across this untidy carpeting and
directed his attention to the broken windows in the town house and
in other buildings that surrounded the square.
"Actions of visitin' firemen, mostly," explained the constable,
gloomily. "Took that way of expressin' their opinion of a town that
would cheat 'em out of prize-money that they came down here all in
good faith to get. And I don't blame 'em to any great extent."
"Nor I, either," agreed the Cap'n with a readiness that surprised
Mr. Nute. "A town that doesn't pay its bills ought to be ashamed of
itself."
The constable backed away a few steps and stared at this amazing
detractor.
"I paid bills prompt and honest just as long as there was any money
to pay 'em with," the Cap'n went on. "There's nothin' on _my_
conscience."
"Yes, but who did you pay the money to?" complained Nute, voicing
the protest of Smyrna. "The least you could have done was to make
them plug-hatters share pro raty with the fire-company boys--and the
fire-company boys furnished the show; them plug-hatters didn't."
"It's always been my rule to pay a hundred cents on the dollar, and
I paid the hundred cents so long as the cash lasted. Go hunt up your
Pote Tate if you want to know why the plug-hatters had a good claim."
"He's back, Tate is, and we made him explain, and this town had no
business in givin' a cussed fool like him so much power. If I had
cut up the caper he has I'd have stayed away, but he's back for his
folks to support him some more. He didn't even have gumption enough
to beg vittles."
"Well, this town has had a hearty meal, and all is I hope it won't
feel hungry for celebrations till it's time for the next centennial,"
observed the Cap'n. "There's one thing about this affair that I'm
goin' to praise--it was hearty and satisfyin'. It has dulled the
celebratin' appetite in this town for some time." He went into town
office.
The constable followed and laid a paper before him. It was a petition
of citizens for a special town-meeting; and there being a sufficient
number of names on the paper, it became a matter of duty for Cap'n
Sproul to call the meeting prayed for.
He quietly proceeded to draw up the necessary notice. Nute evidently
expected that the Cap'n would promptly understand the meaning of the
proposed meeting and would burst into violent speech. But the
selectman hummed an old sea chanty while he hunted for a blank, and
smiled as he penned the document.
"Committee has been to Squire Alcander Reeves to get some law on the
thing," proceeded Nute, disappointed by this lack of interest in
affairs. "Reeves says that since the show was advertised as a town
shindig the town has got to stand behind and fid up for the money
that's shy. Says it ain't supposed to fall on the committees to pay
for what the town's beholden for."
"Let 'em go ahead and settle it to suit all hands," remarked the first
selectman, amiably. "As the feller used to sing in the dog-watch:
"'Says Jonah, addressin' the whale, "I wish
You'd please take notice that I like fish."
Says the whale to Jonah, "It's plain to see
That you are goin' to agree with me."'"
A considerable gathering of the taxpayers of Smyrna had been waiting
on the platform of Odbar Broadway's store for the first selectman
to appear and open the town office. Hiram Look had marshalled them
there. Now he led them across the square and they filed into the
office.
The Cap'n did not look up until he had finished his work on the notice.
He handed the paper to Nute with orders to post it after the
signatures of the two associate selectmen had been secured.
Then to his surprise Hiram Look received an extremely benignant smile
from the Cap'n.
"You ain't objectin' any to the special town-meetin', then?"
inquired Hiram, losing some of his apprehensiveness.
"I'm callin' it as quick as the law will let me--and happy to do so,"
graciously returned the first selectman.
Hiram took off his tall hat with the air of one who has been invited
to remain, after anticipating violent rebuff.
"You know, don't you, what the voters want this special meetin' for?"
"Sartin sure," cried the Cap'n. "Got to have money to square up bills
and take the cuss off'm this town of welchin' on a straight
proposition to outsiders who came down here all in good faith after
prizes."
"Exactly," cried Hiram, glowing. "Didn't I always tell you, boys,
that though Cap'n Aaron Sproul might be a little gruff and a bit short,
sea-capt'in fashion, he was all right underneath?"
There was a mumble of assent.
"There ain't a first selectman in this State that has shown any more
science in handlin' his job than Cap'n Aaron Sproul of this town."
"When you come to remember back how he's grabbed in and taken the
brunt every time there's been anything that needed to be handled
proper, you've got to admit all what you've said, Mr. Look," assented
another of the party.
"We know now that it was by Tate forgin' your name and runnin' things
underhanded that the town got into the scrape it did," Hiram went
on. "Them bills had to be paid to keep outsiders slingin' slurs at
us. You done just right. The town will have to meet and vote more
money to pay the rest of the bills. But probably it won't come as
hard as we think. What I was goin' to ask you, Cap'n Sproul, was
whether there ain't an overplus in some departments? We can use that
money so far's it'll go."
"Pauper department has something extry," stated the first selectman,
dryly. "I was thinkin' of buyin' a new furnace for the poor-farm,
but we can let the paupers shiver through another winter so's to pay
them squirtin' prizes to the firemen."
"We don't want to do anything that ain't just accordin' to Hoyle,"
said Hiram, flushing a little, for he sensed the satire. "We'll meet
and vote the money and then we can sit back and take comfort in
thinkin' that there's just the right man at the head of town affairs
to economize us back onto Easy Street." He was eager to flatter. "This
town understands what kind of a man it wants to keep in office. I
take back all I ever said about opposin' you, Cap'n."
"And that's the general sentiment of the town," affirmed Odbar
Broadway.
The face of the first selectman did not indicate that he was
especially gratified.
"That is to say," he inquired grimly, "after I've fussed, figured,
and struggled for most of two years to save money and pay off the
debts of this town and have had the cash yanked away from me like
honey out of a hive, I'm supposed to start in all over again and do
a similar job for this town on a salary of sixty dollars a year?"
"We don't feel you ought to put it just that way," objected Hiram.
"That's the way it suits me to put it. You can do it to me once--you
have done it--but this is where this partickler little busy bee stops
makin' honey for the town of Smyrna to lap up at one mouthful. That
special town-meetin' comes along all handy for me. You notice I ain't
objectin' to havin' it held."
Constable Nute, who had been looking puzzled ever since the selectman
had signed the call for the meeting, perked up with the interest of
one who is about to hear a mystery explained.
"For," the Cap'n went on, "I was goin' to call one on my own hook
so that I can resign this office. I serve notice on you now that when
this town touches dock at that meetin' I step ashore with my little
dunnage bag on my back."
"The town won't let you do it," blazed Hiram.
"I was shanghaied aboard. You want to be careful, all of ye, how you
gather at the gangway when I start to walk ashore! It's fair warnin'.
Take heed of it!"
There was an expression on his weather-worn countenance that checked
further expostulation. Hiram angrily led them out after a few
muttered expletives.
"I've heard of contrary tantryboguses in my time," stated Broadway
when they were back at his store, "but that feller over there has
got all of 'em backed into the stall. This town better wake up. We've
let ourselves be bossed around by him as though Smyrna was rigged
out with masts and sails and he was boss of the quarter-deck. Give
me a first selectman that has got less brustles."
It was the first word of a general revolt. It is the nature of man
to pretend that he does not desire what he cannot get. The voters
of Smyrna took that attitude.
On the eve of the projected town-meeting Hiram Look strolled over
to call on his friend Sproul. The latter had been close at home for
days, informing his loyal wife that for the first time since he had
settled ashore he was beginning to appreciate what peace and quiet
meant.
"I don't know how it happened," he informed Hiram, "how I ever let
myself be pull-hauled as much as I've been. Why, I haven't had time
allowed me to stop and consider what a fool and lackey I was lettin'
'em make of me. When I left the sea I came ashore with a hankerin'
for rest, comfort, and garden sass of my own raisin', and I've been
beatin' into a head wind of hoorah-ste-boy ever since. From now on
I'll show you a man that's settled down to enjoy life!"
"That's the right way for you to feel," affirmed Hiram. "You take
a man that holds office and the tide turns against him after a while.
It's turned against you pretty sharp."
"Don't see how you figger that," returned the Cap'n with complacency.
"I'm gettin' out just the right time. Time to leave is when they're
coaxin' you to stay. If I'd stayed in till they got to growlin' around
and wantin' to put me out I'd have to walk up and down in this town
like Gid Ward does now--meechin' as a scalt pup. That's why I'm takin'
so much personal satisfaction in gettin' out--they want to keep me
in."
"You ought to travel out around this town a little," returned his
friend, grimly. "The way they're talkin' now you'd think they was
goin' to have bonfires and a celebration when they get rid of you.
Hate to hurt your feelin's, but I'm only reportin' facts, and just
as they're talkin' it. Bein' a friend I can say it to your face."
The expression of bland pride faded out of Cap'n Sproul's face. For
a moment he seemed inclined to doubt Hiram's word in violent terms.
A few words did slip out.
The old showman interrupted him.
"Go out and sound the pulse for yourself. I never lied to you yet.
You've cuffed the people around pretty hard, you'll have to admit
that. Take a feller in politics that undertakes to boss too much,
and when the voters do turn on him they turn hard. They've done it
to you. They're glad you're goin' out. You couldn't be elected
hog-reeve in Smyrna to-day."
The Cap'n glared at him, voiceless for the moment.
"I know it hurts, but I'm tellin' you the truth," Hiram went on,
remorselessly. "If they don't stand up and give three cheers in
town-meetin' to-morrow when you hand in your resignation I'll be much
surprised."
"Who's been lyin' about me?" demanded the first selectman.
"It ain't that way at all! Seems like the town sort of woke up all
of a sudden and realized it didn't like your style of managin'. The
way you acted when the delegation came to you put on the finishin'
touch. Now, Aaron, you don't have to take my word for this. Prob'ly
it doesn't interest you--but you can trot around and find out for
yourself, if it does."
The first selectman, his eyes gleaming, the horn of gray hair that
he twisted in moments of mental stress standing straight up, rose
and reached for his hat.
"Mutiny on me, will they?" he growled. "We'll jest see about that!"
"Where are you goin', Aaron?" asked the placid Louada Murilla,
troubled by his ireful demeanor.
"I'm goin' to find out if this jeebasted town is goin' to kick me
out of office! They'll discover they haven't got any Kunnel Gid Ward
to deal with!"
"But you said you were out of politics, Aaron!" Dismay and grief were
in her tones. "I want you for myself, husband. You promised me. I
don't want you to go back into politics."
"I hain't ever been out of politics yet," he retorted. "And if there
are any men in this town that think I'm down and out they'll have
another guess comin'."
He marched out of the house, leaving his visiting friend in most
cavalier fashion.
Hiram stared after him, meditatively stroking his long mustache.
"Mis' Sproul," he said at last, "you take muddy roads, wet grounds,
balky animils, fool rubes, drunken performers, and the high price
of lemons, and the circus business is some raspy on the general
disposition. But since I've known your husband I've come to the
conclusion that it's an angel-maker compared with goin' to sea."
"You had no business tellin' him what you did," complained the wife.
"You ought to understand his disposition by this time."
"I ought to, but I see I don't," acknowledged the friend. He scrubbed
his plug hat against his elbow and started for the door. "I'd been
thinkin' that if ever I'd run up against a man that really wanted
to shuck office that man was your husband. I reckoned he really knew
what he wanted part of the time."
"Can't you go after him and make him change his mind back?" she
pleaded.
"The voters of this town will attend to that. I was tellin' him the
straight truth. If he don't get it passed to him hot off the bat when
he tackles 'em, then I'm a sucker. You needn't worry, marm. He'll
have plenty of time to 'tend to his garden sass this summer."
It was midnight when Cap'n Sproul returned to an anxious and waiting
wife. He was flushed and hot and hoarse, but the gleam in his eye
was no longer that of offended pride and ireful resolve. There was
triumph in his glance.
"If there's a bunch of yaller dogs think they can put me out of office
in this town they'll find they're tryin' to gnaw the wrong bone,"
he declared hotly.
"But you had told them you wouldn't take the office--you insisted
that you were going to resign--you said--"
"It didn't make any diff'runce what I said--when I said it things
was headed into the wind and all sails was drawin' and I was on my
course. But you let some one try to plunk acrost my bows when I'm
on the starboard tack, and have got right of way, well, more or less
tophamper is goin' to be carried away--and it won't be mine."
"What have you done, Aaron?" she inquired with timorous solicitude.
"Canvassed this town from one end to the other and by moral suasion,
the riot act, and a few other things I've got pledges from
three-quarters of the voters that when I pass in my resignation
to-morrow they'll vote that they won't accept it and will ask me to
keep on in office for the good of Smyrna. This town won't get a chance
to yoke me up with your brother Gid and point us out as a steer team
named 'Down and Out!' He's 'Down' but I ain't 'Out' yet, not by a
dam--excuse me, Louada Murilla! But I've been mixin' into politics
and talkin' political talk."
"And I had so hoped you were out of it," she sighed, as she followed
him to their repose.
She watched him make ready and depart for town hall the next morning
without comment, but the wistful look in her eyes spoke volumes.
Cap'n Sproul was silent with the air of a man with big events fronting
him.
She watched the teams jog along the highway toward the village. She
saw them returning in dusty procession later in the forenoon--signal
that the meeting was over and the voters were returning to their
homes.
In order to beguile the monotony of waiting she hunted up the
blank-book in which she had begun to write "The Life Story of Gallant
Captain Aaron Sproul." She read the brief notes that she had been
able to collect from him and reflected with bitterness that there
was little hope of securing much more data from a man tied up with
the public affairs of a town which exacted so much from its first
selectman.
Upon her musings entered Cap'n Sproul, radiant, serene. He bent and
kissed her after the fashion of the days of the honeymoon.
"Whew!" he whistled, sitting down in a porch chair and gazing off
across the blue hills. "It's good to get out of that steam and stew
down in that hall. I say, Louada Murilla, there ain't in this whole
world a much prettier view than that off acrost them hills. It's a
good picture for a man to spend his last days lookin' at."
"I'm afraid you aren't going to get much time to look at it, husband."
She fondled her little book and there was a bit of pathos in her voice.
"Got all the time there is!"
There was a buoyancy in his tones that attracted her wondering
attention.
"They wouldn't accept that resignation," he said with great
satisfaction. "It was unanimous. Them yaller dogs never showed
themselves. Yes, s'r, unanimous, and a good round howl of a hurrah
at that! Ought to have been there and seen the expression on Hiram's
face! I reckon I've shown him a few things in politics that will last
him for an object-lesson."
"I suppose they'll want to keep you in for life, now," she said with
patient resignation. "And I had so hoped--"
She did not finish. He looked at her quizzically for a little while
and her expression touched him.
"I was intendin' to string the agony out and keep you on tenter-hooks
a little spell, Louada Murilla," he went on. "But I hain't got the
heart to do it. All is, they wouldn't accept that resignation, just
as I've told you. It makes a man feel pretty good to be as popular
as that in his own town. Of course it wasn't all love and abidin'
affection--I had to go out last night and temper it up with politics
a little--but you've got to take things in this world just as they're
handed to you. I stood up and made a speech and I thanked 'em--and
it was a pretty good speech."
He paused and narrowed his eyes and dwelt fondly for a moment on the
memory of the triumph.
"But when you're popular in a town and propose to spend your last
days in that town and want to stay popular and happy and contented
there's nothin' like clinchin' the thing. So here's what I done there
and then, Louada Murilla: I praised up the voters of Smyrna as bein'
the best people on earth and then I told 'em that, havin' an interest
in the old town and wantin' to see her sail on full and by and all
muslin drawin' and no barnacles of debt on the bottom, I'd donate
out of my pocket enough to pay up all them prizes and purses
contracted for in the celebration--and then I resigned again as first
selectman. And I made 'em understand that I meant it, too!"
"Did they let you resign?" she gasped.
"Sure--after a tussle! But you see I'd made myself so popular by that
time that they'd do anything I told 'em to do, even to lettin' me
resign! And there's goin' to be a serenade to me to-night, Hiram
Look's fife and drum corps and the Smyrna Ancients leadin' the parade.
Last thing I done down-town was order the treat."
He nested his head in his interlocked fingers and leaned back.
"Louada Murilla, you and me is goin' to take solid comfort from now
on--and there's nothin' like bein' popular in the place where you
live." He glanced sideways at the little blank-book.
"We've been kind of neglectin' that, hain't we, wife? But we're goin'
to have a good, long, cozy, chatty time together now! Make a note
of this: One time when I was eleven days out from Boston with a cargo
of woodenware bound to Australia, we run acrost a--"