BOB had just finished feeding the chickens when the automobile drew up
at the door, and he hurried around the house to see who it might be. He
was rather looking for the return of that nice lawyer again. He felt the
family expected him some time soon. Perhaps he would be to breakfast and
mother would want some fresh eggs.
They had dropped Bi at the edge of the village and there were only
Hutton and the driver who had brought them. Bi had no mind to get mixed
up in this affair too openly. He valued his standing in his home town,
and did not wish to lose it. He had an instinct that what he was doing
might make him unpopular if it became known. Besides, he had another ax
to grind.
Bob did not like the looks of the strange dark man who got out of the
car and came into the yard with the air of a thrashing machine bolting
into whatever came in his way. He stood sturdily and waited until he was
asked who lived there, and admitted with a stingy "yes" that it was Mrs.
Carson's house. A thundering knock on the front door followed, and the
other man in the car got out and came into the yard behind the first.
"Well, you needn't take the door down," snapped Bob, and scuttled around
the house to warn his mother, aware that he had been rude, and glad of
it.
It was Betty who came to the door, for Ma was frying bacon and eggs for
breakfast, and Bob hadn't been quite soon enough. She started back with
a scream, and eluding the hand that reached for her arm, fairly flew
back to the kitchen, taking refuge behind Mrs. Carson, with her eyes
wild with fear and her hand on her heart, while Hutton strode after her.
Mrs. Carson wheeled around with her knife in her hand and faced him:
"What do you mean by coming into my house this way, I'd like to know?"
she demanded angrily, putting her arm around Betty.
"I beg your pardon," said Hutton, a poor apology for courtesy slipping
into his manner. "I don't suppose you know it, but that is my wife you
are harboring there, and she ran away from home several months ago! I
have just discovered her whereabouts and have come to take her away!"
Ma straightened up with the air of a queen and a judge, while Betty
stifled a scream and in a small voice full of terror cried: "It isn't
true, Mrs. Carson, it isn't true! Oh, _mother_, don't let him take me!"
Mrs. Carson pushed Betty behind her, the knife still in her other hand,
and answered with dignity:
"You've made a big mistake, Mr. Herbert Hutton; this isn't your wife at
all. I know all about you."
Hutton put on a look of instant suavity.
"Oh, of course, madam, she has told you that, but I'm sorry to have to
tell you that she is not in her right mind. She made her escape from the
insane asylum."
"Oh, rats!" shouted Bob, and vanished out the kitchen door, slamming it
behind him.
Emily, frightened and white, stood just outside, and he nearly knocked
her over in his flight. He pulled her along with him, whispering in her
ear excitedly:
"You beat it down to the fire gong and hit it for all you're worth!
Quick!"
Emily gave him one frightened look and sprang to action. Her little feet
sped down the path to the lot where hung the big fire gong, like two
wild rabbits running for their life, and in a moment more the loud whang
of alarm rang through the little town, arousing the "gang" and greatly
disconcerting Bi, who was craning his neck at the station and watching
the fast-growing speck down the railroad track. That sure was the train
coming already. How had they made it so soon?
But Bob was on his stomach in the road scuttling the ship that was to
have carried away the princess. The chauffeur was fully occupied in the
house, for he had been ordered to follow and be ready to assist in
carrying away an insane person, and he had no thought for his car at
present. It was an ugly job, and one that he didn't like, but he was
getting big pay, and such things had to be done.
Bob's knife was sharp. He always kept it in good condition. It did many
of the chores about the house, and was cunning in its skill. It cut
beautiful long punctures in the four tires, until there was no chance at
all of that car's going on its way for some time to come. Then he
squirmed his way out on the opposite side from the house, slid along by
the fence to the side door, around to the back like a flash and without
an instant's hesitation hauled up his elaborate system of drainage. He
stuck the longest conductor pipe through the open window of the old
laundry, clutched at the sill and swung inside, drawing the pipe in
after him.
The altercation in the kitchen had reached white heat. Hutton's suavity
was fast disappearing behind a loud angry tone. He had about sized up
Ma and decided to use force.
It was a tense moment when Bob, his hasty arrangements made, silently
swung open the laundry door in full range of the uninvited guests and
waited for the psychological moment. Mrs. Carson had dropped her knife
and seized the smoking hot frying-pan of bacon as a weapon. She was cool
and collected, but one could see in her eyes the little devil of battle
that sometimes sat in Bob's eyes as she swung the frying-pan back for a
blow. Suddenly out flashed a cold steel eye, menacing, unanswerable,
looking straight into her own.
At that instant, unannounced and unobserved, through the laundry door
lumbered a long ugly tin conductor pipe, and the deluge began. Straight
into the eyes of the would-be husband it gushed, battering swashingly
down on the cocked revolver, sending it harmlessly to the floor, where
it added to the confusion by going off with a loud report, and sending
the chauffeur to the shelter of the parlor. Bob never knew how near he
came to killing some one by his hasty service, and Ma never had the
heart to suggest it. Instead she acted promptly and secured the weapon
before the enemy had time to recover from his shock.
Bob, in the laundry, standing on a chair mounted on a board across the
bathtub, sturdily held his wobbling conductor pipe and aimed it straight
to the mark. Of course he knew that even a well-filled phalanx of
hogsheads could not hold the enemy forever, but he was counting on the
fire company to arrive in time to save the day.
Gasping, clawing the air, ducking, diving here and there to escape the
stream, Herbert Hutton presented a spectacle most amusing and satisfying
to Bob's boy mind.
"Beat it, Lizzie, beat it! Beat it!" he shouted above the noise of the
pouring waters. But Betty, white with horror, seemed to have frozen to
the spot. She could not have moved if she had tried, and her brain
refused to order her to try. She felt as if the end of everything had
come and she were paralyzed.
Down the street with dash and flourish, licking up excitement like a
good meal, dashed the gang, the fire chief ostentatiously arraying
himself in rubber coat and helmet as he stood on the side of the engine,
while the hysterical little engine bell banged away, blending with the
sound of the bell of the incoming train at the station. Bi, with his
mouth stretched wide, and one foot holding him for the train while the
other urged toward the fire and excitement, vibrated on the platform, a
wild figure of uncertainty. Where Duty and Inclination both called,
Cupidity still had the upper hand.
For once Bi did not have to act a part as he stood watching the three
travelers descend from the train. The excitement in his face was real
and his gestures were quite natural, even the ones made by his one and
only long waving top-lock of gray hair that escaped all bounds as his
hat blew off with the suction of the train. Bi rushed up to the three
men wildly:
"Say, was you goin' down to Carson's house after that Hope girl?" he
demanded loudly.
The three men surveyed him coldly, and the young one gave him a decided
shove:
"That will do, my friend," he said firmly. "We don't need any of your
assistance."
"But I got a line on this thing you'll want to know," he insisted,
hurrying alongside. "There's a guy down there in a car goin' to take her
away. He ain't been gone long, but you won't find her 'thout my help.
He's goin' to take her to a insane institution. I let on I was helpin'
him an' I found out all about it."
"What's all this?" said Reyburn, wheeling about and fixing the old
fellow with a muscular young shake that made his toothless jaws chatter.
"How long ago did he go? What kind of a looking man was he?"
"Lemme go!" whined Bi, playing to make time, one cunning eye down the
road. "I ain't as young as I used to be, an' I can't stand gettin'
excited. I got a rig here a purpose, an' I'll take you all right down,
an' then ef he's gone, an' I s'pose he must be, 'cause your train was
late, why, we'll foller."
"Well, quick, then!" said Reyburn, climbing into the shackley spring
wagon that Bi indicated, the only vehicle in view. The two trustees
climbed stiffly and uncertainly into the back seat as if they felt they
were risking their lives, and Bi lumbered rheumatically into the
driver's place and took up the lines. It appeared that the only living
thing in Tinsdale that wasn't awake and keen to go to the fire was that
horse, and Bi had to do quite a little urging with the stump of an old
whip. So, reluctantly, they joined the procession toward the Carson
house.
As the stream from the hogshead gurgled smaller, and the victim writhed
out of its reach and began to get his bearings, suddenly the outside
kitchen door burst open and a crew of rubber-coated citizens sprang in,
preceded by a generous stream of chemicals which an ardent young member
of the company set free indiscriminately in his excitement. It struck
the right man squarely in the middle and sent him sprawling on the
floor.
Bob dropped the conductor pipe in exhausted relief and flew to the scene
of action. It had been fearful to be held from more active service so
long. Emily, outside, could be seen dancing up and down excitedly and
directing the procession, with frightened shouts, "In there! In the
kitchen! Quick!" as the neighbors and townsmen crowded in and filled the
little kitchen demanding to know where the fire was.
Mrs. Carson with dignity stepped forward to explain:
"There ain't any fire, friends, an' I don't know how you all come to get
here, but I reckon the Lord sent you. You couldn't a-come at a better
moment. We certainly was in some trouble, an' I'll be obliged to you all
if you'll just fasten that man up so't he can't do any more harm. He
came walkin' in here tryin' to take away a member of my family by force,
an' he pointed this at me!"
She lifted the incriminating weapon high where they could all see.
Herbert Hutton, struggling to his feet in the crowd, began to understand
that this was no place for him, and looked about for an exit, but none
presented itself. The chauffeur had vanished and was trying to make out
what had happened to his car.
Hutton, brought to bay, turned on the crowd like a snarling animal,
although the effect was slightly spoiled by his drabbled appearance, and
roared out insolently:
"The woman doesn't know what she's talking about, men; she's only
frightened. I came here after my wife, and I intend to take her away
with me! She escaped from an insane asylum some time ago, and we've been
looking for her ever since. This woman is doing a very foolish and
useless thing in resisting me, for the law can take hold of her, of
course."
The crowd wavered and looked uncertainly at Mrs. Carson and at Betty
cowering horrified behind her, and Hutton saw his advantage:
"Men," he went on, "there is one of your own townsmen who knows me and
can vouch for me. A Mr. Gage. Abijah Gage. If you will just look him
up--he was down at the station a few minutes ago. He knows that all I am
saying is true!"
A low sound like a rumble went over the little audience and they seemed
to bunch together and look at one another while some kind of an
understanding traveled from eye to eye. An articulate syllable, "Bi!"
breathed in astonishment, and then again "Bi!" in contempt. Public
opinion, like a panther crouching, was forming itself ready to spring,
when suddenly a new presence was felt in the room. Three strangers had
appeared and somehow quietly gotten into the doorway. Behind them,
stretching his neck and unable to be cautious any longer, appeared Bi's
slouching form. Crouching Public Opinion caught sight of him and showed
its teeth, but was diverted by the strangers.
Then suddenly, from the corner behind Ma, slipped Betty with
outstretched hands, like a lost thing flying to its refuge, straight to
the side of the handsome young stranger.
He put out his hands and drew her to his side with a protecting motion,
and she whispered:
"Tell, them, please; oh, make them understand."
Then Reyburn, with her hand still protectingly in his, spoke:
"What that man has just said is a lie!"
Hutton looked up, went deadly white and reeled as he saw the two elderly
men.
The crowd drew a united breath and stood straighter, looking relieved.
Bi blanched, but did not budge. Whatever happened he was in with both
crowds. Reyburn continued:
"I carry papers in my pocket which give authority to arrest him. If the
sheriff is present will he please take charge of him. His name is
Herbert Hutton, and he is charged with trying to make this lady marry
him under false pretenses in order to get control of her property. She
is not his wife, for she escaped before the ceremony was performed. I
know, for I was present. These two gentlemen with me are the trustees of
her estate."
Estate!
The neighbors looked at Betty respectfully.
Bi dropped his jaw perceptibly and tried to figure out how that would
affect him. The sheriff stepped forward to magnify his office, and the
silence was impressive, almost reverent. In the midst of it broke Bob's
practical suggestion:
"Shut him in the coal shed. It's got a padlock an' is good an' strong.
He can't kick it down."
Then the law began to take its course, the fire gang stepped out, and
Mrs. Carson set to work to clean up. In the midst of it all Reyburn
looked down at Betty, and Betty looked up at Reyburn, and they
discovered in some happy confusion that they still had hold of hands.
They tried to cover their embarrassment by laughing, but something had
been established between them that neither could forget.