DQWNRENTER S 
 SON 
 
 RUTH HALL 
 
BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
 HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY 
 press, <ambriD0e 
 1902 
 
COPYRIGHT, 1902, BY RUTH HALL 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED 
 
 Published September, iqoz. 
 
SDrtiicatton 
 
 IN SENDING FORTH THIS BOOK I RECALL EACH FRIEND 
 WHO BY REMINISCENCE OR BY SPECIAL KNOWLEDGE 
 
 HAS HELPED ME TO WRITE IT. 
 
 AND AMONG THOSE FRIENDS, HERE, AS ALWAYS, FIRST 
 I NAME 
 
 MY MOTHER 
 
 2136168 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTER PAGE 
 
 I. THE SHIBBOLETH 1 
 
 II. ALONG THE ROAD TO SCHOOL ... 12 
 
 III. THB DINNER HORN 22 
 
 IV. VISITORS 32 
 
 V. GENERAL TRAINING 43 
 
 VI. OLD JACOB AT HOME . . . . . 54 
 
 VII. THE PARTING OF THE WAYS .... 65 
 
 VIII. A KETTLE OP TAR ...... 76 
 
 IX. AT THE SAMP-MILL . . It) ... 86 
 
 X. CRAZY DAN ...*... 97 
 
 XL "THE LORD is IN HIS HOLY TEMPLE" . . 107 
 
 XII. THE CRIPPLE BUSH 117 
 
 XIII. THE ELOQUENCE OP DEMOSTHENES . . 128 
 
 XIV. "OUT OF THE WAY" 137 
 
 XV. FATHER AND SON 146 
 
 XVI. SQUIRE MAYHAM 155 
 
 XVII. FAIR WARNING . . . . . . .166 
 
 XVIII. HAGER S SALE 175 
 
 XIX. BREAKING THE LAW . . . . 185 
 
 XX. OLD JACOB S MATCH 195 
 
 XXI. SON AND FATHER 204 
 
 XXII. ONE SHALL BE TAKEN 214 
 
 XXIII. GlTTY SPEAKS HER MlND 222 
 
 XXIV. OLD JACOB S PLEA 231 
 
 XXV. AT Mix s 241 
 
 XXVI. THE LADY OF THE AIR CASTLE . . . 251 
 
 XXVII. ON THE WAY HOME 261 
 
 XXVIII. AT THE WINDOW 272 
 
 XXIX. THE DONATION PARTY 283 
 
 XXX. THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY . . 294 
 
A DOWNKENTER S SON 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 THE SHIBBOLETH 
 
 There is nothing equal to the smallness of a small town. 
 
 ALFRED TENNYSOK. 
 
 DR. COLTON stood on the threshold of the dis 
 orderly kitchen, peering about him in his near 
 sighted fashion : " I thought Henry was here." 
 
 " He s cording the spare-room bedstead. " 
 
 " Then where is Allie ? " 
 
 " I sent him after the carpenter, father." 
 
 " Oh ! Would you like to go with me, Phe ? I 
 am just starting out on my calls." 
 
 His daughter glanced at her mother over the 
 stiff billows of the carpet she was sewing together. 
 Next she looked toward the tall, angular figure of 
 their Yankee help. Jemima was fast setting this 
 one room in order. Mrs. Colton was unpacking 
 the contents of the kitchen closet. Three pairs of 
 hands were more than needed on this day of their 
 moving into a new home. It was inconsiderate of 
 her father to demand her services elsewhere. But 
 consideration is the last grace given to the best of 
 
2 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 men. The Colton family was accustomed to such 
 requests. 
 
 " Oh, yes. Go, Phe," said her mother. 
 
 " Go on," echoed Jemima Lane. " I 11 finish 
 them seams an put the carpet down soon as I git 
 through with this." 
 
 Her strong arms made a passage by which the 
 girl could emerge from among the unwieldy mounds. 
 " Don t let mother overwork while I am gone," 
 Phoebe whispered entreatingly in this opportunity. 
 
 Jemima was the product of a day when her na 
 tive New England was given over to philosophy. 
 " We can t do nobuddy else s work in this world," 
 she observed generally. " We d be busy with our 
 own if ye stayed, an we 11 be busy with our own 
 while ye re gone. They s enough left for ye to 
 see to when ye come back. Don t fret." 
 
 With such solace to her conscience Phe was free 
 to enjoy her escape from confusion and uncon 
 genial tasks to the bliss that comes near perfection 
 a country drive in early spring. Before the 
 wide barn door stood a chaise. She climbed to a 
 seat, as her father led out old Sam and harnessed 
 him with the ease of practice. 
 
 " I am going to the Mixes ," he remarked while 
 thus occupied. " We 11 get there probably about 
 dinner-time. I shall be glad to have you meet 
 their young people. They 11 be companions for 
 you." 
 
 Phe accordingly looked forward to the visit 
 throughout their earlier calls, while they drove 
 along the quiet road, or she held the horse at the 
 
THE SHIBBOLETH 3 
 
 gate of one farmhouse after another. She enjoyed 
 it all : the fresh green beauty of her surroundings, 
 their gentle progress, the sense of protection which 
 was sweet when with her father. 
 
 Dr. Colton had preceded by a few weeks his 
 family s arrival at Farley, and experienced that 
 curious pride one knows in acting as a guide. He 
 pointed out the tollkeeper s little house at one end 
 of the covered bridge, where old Sam s hoofs 
 roused a hollow echo and the sunlight fell in a 
 latticed pattern through the outwork on the weather- 
 beaten sides. He showed Phe a far-away glimpse 
 of the red and yellow rocking coach with its mail- 
 bags and load of passengers. He dilated upon the 
 view from Baldwin Heights and the Cripple Bush, 
 where they were making sugar when he first came 
 in March. At last he drew rein before a substan 
 tial large brick house whose eaves projected over a 
 stone basement. It was set back from the road in 
 the midst of a wide yard in which the new grass 
 was coming up around the syringa bushes. 
 
 "And this is the Mixes ," said he, smiling. " Look 
 about you." 
 
 "Why, father?" 
 
 " No matter now," as a door opened in the ves 
 tibule. " Just keep your eyes open. That s all." 
 
 A girl came into sight in the hard-beaten path 
 winding through the grass around the house. She 
 seemed about Phe s age, which was sixteen years, 
 and was dressed in a calico gown, with nankeen 
 pantalettes and a slat bonnet. From the depths 
 of this headgear she gazed out in a friendly fashion 
 upon the visitors. 
 
4 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Glad to see you, doctor," she called. " Gran - 
 ma s been watching for you ever since breakfast. 
 She said, seems if you d never come." 
 
 The good physician was not disturbed by this 
 impatience, which he knew to be the outgrowth of 
 loneliness rather than ill-health. In the solitude 
 of farm life a guest s welcome was assured, and 
 " the more the merrier " a fact. Dr. Col ton never 
 had deemed it a favor to himself if he stopped on 
 his rounds for a meal, nor did he hesitate to bring 
 with him any member of his family. 
 
 " This is my daughter," he announced, stepping 
 from the chaise, " and this, Phrebe, is Miss Mary 
 Ann Mix. I hope you two will be friends. Phe 
 is to enter school to-morrow, Miss Mary Ann. 
 You will look after her a little, won t you ? " 
 
 His pleasant voice continued, that their young 
 hostess might have time to recover her composure. 
 She nodded shyly to his query and found scant 
 breath to mutter, 
 
 " Walk right in, please. You re just in time 
 for dinner. I 11 help you tie the horse." 
 
 Phe followed the others along the narrow foot 
 way to a back door. She saw her father march in 
 assuredly, after knocking with the head of his whip. 
 Mary Ann was at his heels and she behind Mary 
 Ann. 
 
 They entered a broad, low room running the 
 width of the house. At the farther side was a 
 fireplace where an old woman crouched in an arm 
 chair. At their approach she raised her head, 
 swathed in flannel. 
 
THE SHIBBOLETH 5 
 
 " Glat to see you, toctor," she said querulously. 
 " I t ought ye gome neffer." 
 
 The doctor presented his daughter to Mrs. Mix 
 before he assumed his professional habit. Draw 
 ing a chair beside his patient he began a series of 
 questions relative to her neuralgia, and left the 
 girls to their devices. 
 
 They were the only other occupants of the room. 
 
 " Pa and Omar will be in, in a minute, to din 
 ner," Mary Ann remarked as if apologizing for 
 their absence. "Josephine s in the store to-day, 
 and Demosthenes ain t scarcely ever at home. He s 
 a lawyer." 
 
 She tossed her head in affected carelessness over 
 this information. Phe saw that Demosthenes 
 whoever else he might be was the pride of the 
 family. She made a noncommittal answer in her 
 throat, sitting on the wooden chair Mary Ann had 
 indicated by an outstretched finger, and smiling up 
 at the other girl stepping briskly about the room. 
 Meanwhile, as her father had counseled, she kept 
 her eyes wide open. 
 
 There seemed an invisible line dividing this 
 kitchen through the centre. On one side, the floor 
 was covered by a well-preserved rag carpet ; on the 
 other was the bare pine wood, painted yellow and 
 shining like a mirror. There was the yawning fire 
 place, with a Dutch oven and a kettle swinging 
 over the wood coals. Here was a glistening stove, 
 holding the frying-pan of sizzling pork. Mrs. 
 Mix punctuated her complaints to the doctor by 
 dropping her snuff-box and jumping up to stir the 
 
6 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 samp bubbling in its huge pot. Mary Ann set 
 back the teakettle and began to dish a pile of 
 potatoes bursting from their jackets. Were there 
 two meals in preparation? Phe stared in per 
 plexity from one fire to the other. Their heat 
 was almost unendurable on so mild a day. She 
 was thankful that she sat near an open door, and 
 her father was urging Mrs. Mix to get out of the 
 house into the sunshine and fresher air. 
 
 " It is what you need," he said. " Medicine 
 does no good while you shut yourself up like 
 this." 
 
 "You can t move gran ma," commented Mary 
 Ann. 
 
 It was evident that this remark was not to be 
 taken literally, for with the doctor s aid she now 
 proceeded to conduct Mrs. Mix to the dinner- 
 table. After this, with a glance at the sun-mark, 
 she ran out onto the porch, and raising two fingers 
 to her lips, breathed a shrill, whistling call. 
 
 " Sha n t I blow the horn for you, Miss Mary 
 Ann ? " asked Dr. Colton. 
 
 He laid a hand on it where it hung behind the 
 door, but the girl and her grandmother gave a 
 simultaneous startled cry. " Oh, no," Mary Ann 
 explained hurriedly. " Nobody would expect it. 
 They would n t understand. Pa 11 be here in a 
 minute. He heard me all right." 
 
 " See to my gorn-breat, shilt," Mrs. Mix admon 
 ished her in a palpable interruption. 
 
 Their visitors felt uncomfortable at this en 
 counter with a secret. The doctor strolled to the 
 
THE SHIBBOLETH 7 
 
 door, his daughter busied herself setting the pork 
 and potatoes on the table, while Mary Ann crossed 
 to the open fire and removing a bed of coals from 
 the iron bake kettle, took out a plump loaf yellow 
 with Indian meal. She filled a wooden bowl with 
 samp and brought both to her grandmother, laying 
 at the same time a lump of loaf sugar by Mrs. 
 Mix s plate, although on her own tray of tea-things 
 stood a sugar-bowl. 
 
 A gray-haired farmer, with his raw-boned, bash 
 ful son, now stamped across the porch. They 
 acknowledged the doctor s introduction with un 
 easy good will, and the meal that followed was 
 silent save as the guest made conversation, shyly 
 seconded by Mary Ann, or by her father, who 
 appeared to have rather more acquaintance with 
 the world than the boy known as Omar. Mrs. 
 Mix ate the food she had prepared, disdaining her 
 granddaughter s cooking except for a bowl of tea, 
 which she sweetened by biting at the lump of 
 sugar provided for her arid all too obviously hold 
 ing it in her mouth while she took a gulp of the 
 hot drink. 
 
 Phe was accustomed to the fine simplicity, the 
 economies, and the culture of poor gentlefolk. 
 The rude profusion, the coarse manners of this 
 household, offended that youthful intolerance that 
 ranks certain blunders in etiquette as a sin. Yet 
 she was drawn to Mary Ann by the sympathy of 
 their age and sex. She was pleased to have her 
 father announce as they rose from the table that 
 he must visit a patient in a neighboring township 
 
8 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 whither Omar, it seemed, had an errand. The 
 doctor could carry the young man with him in his 
 chaise if Phe chose to spend the afternoon here, 
 where he might stop for her on his return. 
 
 Both girls eagerly assented to the plan. They 
 performed together the office known as doing the 
 dinner dishes. Then leaving Mrs. Mix dozing 
 over her fire, Mary Ann with an important air led 
 the way from the kitchen. " Let s go in the parlor 
 a while," said she. " We can see the passing 
 from there. It s pleasanter." 
 
 Their path lay through a dining-room sombre in 
 dull blue paint, its black chairs set against the 
 wall except for a Boston rocker drawn up by the 
 Franklin stove. A rag carpet covered the floor. 
 Everything was in perfect order. 
 
 " We eat in the kitchen and we set there 
 mostly," Mary Ann explained. " Gran ma, you 
 know, she s kind of stubborn. She likes her own 
 way, the way she s used to. So we humor her." 
 
 " I think it s beautiful of you," said Phe 
 heartily. 
 
 " Oh, that s all right." Mary Ann threw open 
 a door. "This," she exclaimed with a thrill in 
 her voice, " is the best room." 
 
 The prim bareness inclosed by those four walls 
 represented to the Mix family the farthest heights 
 of splendor. Green paper shades tempered the 
 light from the windows. On the green and red 
 ingrain carpet were precisely placed a few oak 
 hairs, reed-seated. At either end of the mantel 
 piece stood brass candlesticks, with a tray and 
 
THE SHIBBOLETH 9 
 
 snuffers midway between them. Several gayly 
 colored pictures on the wall lent a dash of bril 
 liancy to the gray paint. Mary Ann led her new 
 friend from one to another of these, explaining the 
 subjects. 
 
 " This is Innocence," she remarked, " and this 
 is A Southern Beauty." 
 
 Phe had the taste acquired in a lifelong posses 
 sion of those old prints and family portraits, the 
 Chippendale chairs and spindle-legged tables, that 
 Jemima and Mrs. Colton were at that instant 
 engaged in unpacking. But she had as well the 
 tact usually accompanying the taste. She said 
 some honest kindly sentences over Mary Ann s 
 household gods and thus increased the charm of 
 her face and her manner. 
 
 " I wish Demosthenes would happen in," ob 
 served Mary Ann. " He d like you." 
 
 " Where is Demosthenes ? " Phe queried, roused 
 to curiosity. 
 
 " Oh, he s in Farley. He s a lawyer. He 
 can t board home. It s too far. He practices 
 law in Farley. Josephine s there too. She s my 
 sister. She tends store when pa s busy on the 
 farm. You know pa keeps a store." 
 
 " Why no, I didn t know that." 
 
 " Did n t you ? " Mary Ann opened her eyes in 
 surprise. " Oh, but then you ve just come. If 
 you d lived here any time you could n t help hear 
 ing about it. They say," with the same toss of 
 her head as when she spoke of her brother s pro 
 fession, " what you can t get at Mix s you can t 
 
10 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 get anywheres. That s a sort of saying around 
 here. Mix s is pa s store." 
 
 Phe was utterly unassuming, and content to 
 listen to the other s boasts. They therefore parted 
 Btill the best of friends, after some hours together, 
 when the doctor stopped at dusk for his daughter. 
 
 The spring twilight was sprinkled with stars as 
 they drove happily home. The girl chattered of 
 her day s experience, and her father in his gen 
 tle, even tones commented on its happenings. It 
 was an index of her breeding that Phe should 
 in no way allude to the episode of the dinner 
 horn. 
 
 " And Mary Ann is just as good to her grand 
 mother ! " said she. 
 
 " I am glad to have you see one of those house 
 holds," the doctor remarked, " where the old 
 Dutch ways and the newer American life touch 
 but will not intermingle. They are a curious 
 study and they yearly of course grow rarer. Some 
 day you will remember " 
 
 " Father, what is that ? " 
 
 The girl s tense fingers grasped his arm. The 
 soft voice died away. Sam reared and stopped. 
 The little party man and woman and beast 
 were alike for an instant startled into fear. 
 
 They had been passing the schoolhouse of the 
 district, where a streak of light at door and shut 
 tered window betrayed occupation. Phe spoke 
 as the door was flung open. The glowing line 
 changed to a broad glare. Against this back 
 ground there appeared a figure so strange and 
 
THE SHIBBOLETH 11 
 
 horrid that it might well call forth a frightened 
 cry. 
 
 A tall man strode down the steps. His face was 
 concealed by a sheepskin cap, his eyes and nose, 
 ears and mouth, showing grotesquely through long 
 slashes. He wore a calico blouse over his ordi 
 nary clothes. It reached below the knees and was 
 tied about the waist with a bright-colored sash. In 
 one hand he carried a rifle. 
 
 Dr. Colton struck his horse with the reins. He 
 called in a high, strained voice, " Get up, Sam." 
 
 The man sprang to the carriage-side. Before 
 they could evade him he had seized the bridle. 
 He raised his frightful mask to meet the doctor s 
 eyes. 
 
 " Down with the rent," he cried. 
 
CHAPTER II 
 
 ALONG THE ROAD TO SCHOOL 
 A most f owle unhandsome thing as ever was heard. PEPYB. 
 
 DR. COLTON gave a little laugh as if of relief, 
 yet Phe fancied there was vexation too in his man 
 ner. He leaned forward, gathering up the reins. 
 
 " Down with the rent," he said. 
 
 The man fell back at once. His hands dropped 
 from the headstall and he turned on his heel. 
 Waving a friendly salute to the travelers he ran 
 up the steps and disappeared into the schoolhouse. 
 The door shut behind him, but not before it could 
 be seen that the room was full of other figures in a 
 like disguise. 
 
 The doctor drove on. 
 
 "Father," Phe began in a trembling voice, 
 " what does it all mean? I don t understand." 
 
 " Neither do I," with a scornful chuckle. " The 
 thing s a tangle, child. The rights of it, as I see 
 them get up, Sam the rights of it are simply 
 this. The country hereabouts belongs to the Van 
 Rensselaers, part of the grant to the first patroon. 
 The tenants, and those on other patents, question 
 the landlords title to the land and prefer their 
 own claims, founded on generations of occupancy. 
 
ALONG THE ROAD TO SCHOOL 13 
 
 There is the situation in a nutshell, No one can 
 foretell," the doctor s tone grew troubled, "how 
 far it may go. I fear there is worse mischief afoot 
 than frightening off a landlord s agent, or stopping 
 a passer-by where they are holding an indignation 
 meeting." 
 
 " Do you side with the tenants ? " 
 
 " Why, no ! It s the patroon s land. No farmer 
 has a stronger hold to his farm than I on mine, 
 simply because his family may liave paid rent for 
 two hundred years and I but for two months." 
 
 Phe was silent. 
 
 "However, it does no good," her father con 
 tinued, " to argue with the fellows. They are be 
 yond conviction. Neither can I fight them. I 
 must look after my interests and those of my fam 
 ily and echo their war-cry on demand." 
 
 Still the girl said nothing. 
 
 "You young folks are so downright," the doctor 
 added presently. " You think there is no middle 
 course. All must be blackest bad, or whitest good. 
 We learn as we go on in life the plain common 
 sense of minding one s own affairs." 
 
 The time was by fifty years removed from the 
 day when parents should be brought to trial with 
 the swift, stern sentence of their children s judg 
 ment. Phe uttered a demurring cry at the notion 
 of appealing from her father s opinions. 
 
 " Oh, it is not that. It could not be. I was 
 only thinking of the outcome if these men should 
 not be checked." 
 
 " I confess I cannot guess it. Anti-rent associa- 
 
14 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 tions disclaim any intention of violence. Yet an 
 Uprenter was killed last year in Rensselaer County, 
 and although two hundred witnesses were exam 
 ined, the murderer was never discovered. Six 
 years ago (the dissatisfaction has been brewing so 
 long) Governor Seward was obliged to send out 
 the sheriff of Albany County to collect rents, pro 
 tected by a posse of the military companies of the 
 capital. That move cowed the Downrenters tem 
 porarily. They were not dispersed, and to my fancy 
 they are ready for another outbreak now." 
 
 Her father s words were recalled to Phe by what 
 took place as she and her brother were on their way, 
 the next day, to school. They had not proceeded 
 far from home before the girl heard some one 
 shriek her name like a shrill, unmelodious Phoebe- 
 bird. Mary Ann Mix was approaching along a 
 path through the fields, swinging her dinner-pail. 
 
 Phe presented her small brother, after which 
 they resumed their walk. 
 
 " Why, here s Gitty and Almiran ! " Mary Ann 
 exclaimed directly. " Ain t they been quick ? 
 They ve come clear around by the turnpike." 
 
 Phoebe regarded the new arrivals, another girl 
 and boy some years her seniors. " I don t know 
 them," she said. " Will you introduce me? " 
 
 She asked more than she imagined. Mary Ann 
 had already envied the grace with which Albert 
 was presented to her notice. She had never per 
 formed this ceremony. In their own phrase, the 
 young people of Farley " scraped acquaintance." 
 Her round cheeks flamed. Her breath came fast. 
 
ALONG THE ROAD TO SCHOOL 15 
 
 " Miss Gitty Hager, Miss Phoebe Colton," she 
 muttered hoarsely as a salutation to the approach 
 ing pair. " Mr. Almiran Sweet, Miss Phosbe Col- 
 ton." 
 
 She stopped short. How could she go through 
 again with that ordeal, and for a little fellow like 
 Allie Colton ? Her tongue refused to move. 
 
 Gitty Hager, a heavy-faced, big-framed girl, 
 grew purple with embarrassment. She shifted her 
 weight from one foot to the other and glowered 
 sheepishly at Phosbe. Almiran was a good-looking 
 youth whose large, handsome features shone with 
 perspiration at this novel experience. But, as often 
 happens on such occasions, he forced himself to 
 rise to an emergency wherein his feminine compan 
 ion remained desperately silent. 
 
 " Pleased to meet you," his deep voice growled. 
 
 Phosbe was perplexed by this behavior. Accus 
 tomed to the amenities of a gentle life, she bore 
 herself with that assurance which is never success 
 fully assumed. 
 
 " This is my brother Albert, Miss Hager ; Mr. 
 Sweet," she explained, with her radiant smile. 
 " Are we all going to school together ? " 
 
 ." Guess so," replied Almiran. 
 
 After this second attempt at politeness he re 
 lapsed into taciturnity. The awkwardness would 
 have been overpowering were not Gitty Hager even 
 more excited than shy. 
 
 " Almiran s got something to show us," she re 
 marked aside to Mary Ann, " and he won t tell 
 what it is." 
 
10 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " What is it ? " Allie instantly demanded. 
 
 " You 11 see soon as ye git to Jurimy Loucks s." 
 
 " Oh," cried Mary Ann shrilly, " Jurimy 
 Loucks s? I bet I know." 
 
 " I bet you don t." 
 
 " What is it? " Allie repeated. 
 
 " I know." 
 
 " I bet you don t." 
 
 " I guessed Indians," Gitty interpolated. " But 
 he said no." 
 
 " Pooh, Indians ! " echoed the little boy in bra 
 vado courage. " There are n t any Indians now 
 adays." 
 
 To Phoebe s mystification and to the child s 
 horror the others exchanged a sidelong glance of 
 amusement. 
 
 " Ain t they ? " Almiran rejoined with sarcastic 
 emphasis. 
 
 " The Indians are all out West," Allie persisted. 
 " Phoebe, are n t the Indians all out West ? " 
 
 " Yes, dear." 
 
 Again she intercepted another sly look. It gave 
 her an eerie sense of evil. 
 
 " There ! " Allie triumphed. " Did you hear 
 that ? I guess my sister knows." 
 
 "All right," agreed Almiran good-hum oredly. 
 " Of course she knows. And Gitty told you it 
 wa n t Indians." 
 
 "Then what is it?" 
 
 " I know," Mary Ann insisted. 
 
 " You just say that," the young fellow declared, 
 hitting the fence with his dinner-pail as he walked, 
 " cause you think it 11 make me tell you." 
 
ALONG THE ROAD TO SCHOOL 17 
 
 " What is it ? " Allie s sweet treble was un 
 wavering in its refrain. 
 
 " S. M.," Mary Ann announced with a provoking 
 smile. 
 
 The Colton children were still in the dark. 
 Gitty seemed to understand. " Is it S. M. ? " she 
 inquired of Almiran. 
 
 His features clouded. He pouted his lips like a 
 baby. " Well, yes, if I must say it," he acknow 
 ledged sulkily. " I don t see how you come to 
 guess." 
 
 " I heard pa tell gran ma they d be there be 
 fore many days. Ain t it awful ? " 
 
 " My father said so too. He said so only last 
 night," Gitty hastened to interpose. " He said he 
 hoped Jurimy would hold out." 
 
 " He s holding out," Almiran informed her. 
 
 " What is S. M. ? " Allie changed his query. 
 
 Phe was walking by herself in the path close to 
 the rail fence. She felt set aside, an interloper. 
 Her dignity was hurt. She considered these ac 
 quaintances both unkind and rude. She was an 
 noyed by her brother s curiosity. 
 
 " What is S. M. ? " he asked again. 
 
 And once more there was that intimation of a 
 common joke in the youth s smile at the two girls. 
 " I guess you 11 find out soon enough," Almiran 
 assured him. " Folks around here ain t long in 
 doubt what S. M. stands for." 
 
 They all laughed. 
 
 " I sha n t speak," Phe determined with a lump 
 in her throat. She winked fast to keep back the 
 
18 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 tears. " They can do all the talking after this. 
 My mother would n t be pleased with the sort of 
 friends I m making. So mean ! " 
 
 " Look there ! " called Almiran. 
 
 He was leading the little party, who walked 
 single file in the narrow way. Thus he shouted 
 over his shoulder, pointing ahead as they turned a 
 corner in the road. 
 
 A red farmhouse stretched like an elongated 
 spyglass back from the highway close to which the 
 front was built as if for companionship. The 
 structure had a comfortable, prosperous air. The 
 group of barns was still more pretentious. It 
 appeared to be the home of a well-to-do farmer. 
 
 The narrow front yard was trampled beneath 
 the feet of a half-dozen men, marshaled by a 
 red-faced, angry official exulting in unassailable 
 authority. 
 
 " Bring em along," his harsh voice rang out. 
 " Bring em right along. I ve talked with them 
 women-folks enough." 
 
 " What did I tell you ? " quoth Almiran to the 
 others. 
 
 Gitty and Mary Ann clutched each other s 
 hands. " Ain t it terrible ? " they cried in a 
 breath. 
 
 A horse and buggy stood before the gate. The 
 man who was holding the reins gave Almiran a 
 sickly smile. 
 
 " Putting Jurimy out ? " asked the young 
 fellow. 
 
 "Yep." 
 
ALONG THE ROAD TO SCHOOL 19 
 
 " Nice bus ness, ain t it ? " Almiran pursued. 
 
 " Well, t ain t none o yourn nor mine," was the 
 retort. " Jurimy had fair warning. He could a 
 been spared all this if he d been a min to." 
 
 " Yes," Gitty disdainfully acquiesced. " If he d 
 been a mind to give in and own he was wrong and 
 the agent was right. And if he did he would n t 
 live long in Farley. He knows that too. Farley 
 ain t any place for Uprenters." 
 
 " Come along," interrupted Mary Ann with a 
 shake of her skirts. " Don t let s talk to anybody 
 that 11 put a sick man out of his house and home." 
 
 They flaunted past the wagon, pushing on up to 
 the gate. Gitty s last words had given Phe a clue 
 to the situation. She spoke to the constable, Allie, 
 his mouth gaping, hanging on her arm. " Is it a 
 Downrenter," she inquired, "resisting the sheriff s 
 men?" 
 
 " That s about what they is of it." The man 
 was evidently grateful for her courteous manner. 
 " Jurimy Loucks is well off. He s got plenty. 
 And he 11 let himself be turned out ruther n give 
 the agent a few bushel o wheat ; that s how it is." 
 
 A piercing scream broke in on the conversation. 
 Phe whirled about toward the sound. Allie be 
 gan to whimper. 
 
 In the front door of the farmhouse stood a gaunt 
 woman clad in a scant calico gown. Her head 
 and shoulders were wrapped in a worsted shawl. 
 "Yon got to set me outdoors," she clamored. 
 " I won t stir a step. I won t put foot to ground. 
 You got to set me out." 
 
20 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Set her out, Job," said the deputy sheriff. 
 
 The woman uttered another shriek. Gitty and 
 Mary Ann raised their cries in concert. Almiran 
 called, " Shame onto you ! " and Allie s wail grew 
 louder. The deputy appeared unmoved by the 
 din save that the dull red face deepened its hue. 
 The fellow named Job, with a comrade, in patent 
 reluctance, threw their arms about the woman s 
 rigid figure and carried her down the walk. Her 
 cries were unceasing, although she made no physi 
 cal resistance. 
 
 " Now bring out my sick man," she exclaimed 
 as soon as she was stationed beside the gate. 
 " That s all you got o do. Bring out the women 
 an the sick folks, an kill em both. They ain t 
 anything meaner in the world, not even for Tobe 
 Snyder." 
 
 Almiran s guffaw encouraged this speech. The 
 deputy heeded it only by bidding him " shut up." 
 
 " Git Jurimy Loucks," he commanded. " Fetch 
 mattress and all. He s got o come." 
 
 Phe endeavored to quiet her brother, the clamor 
 of the others redoubling as the abashed constables 
 once more disappeared through the doorway. 
 Presently four men emerged, bearing an impro 
 vised litter. Upon it was stretched a wasted form 
 with face as white as the sheet tucked underneath 
 the chin. Two clawlike hands twitched at the 
 patchwork quilt. A little bent old woman squeezed 
 herself up to the pallet, walking close beside it. 
 Her wan features, set in an expression of terror, 
 sent a pang to Phe s heart, untouched by the noise 
 
ALONG THE ROAD TO SCHOOL 21 
 
 of the virago. She tried to push toward the bed. 
 She wished to comfort the attendant. She felt it 
 to be but decent to find if there were not some 
 thing she could do for the invalid. But Tobe 
 Snyder barred her way. 
 
 "Git out o this," he growled. "They s too 
 many women here a ready." 
 
 " Let me ! Let me ! " begged Allie. " Oh, I 11 
 give them all the money in my bank. I 11 pay 
 the rent. I 11 do " - 
 
 Mrs. Loucks ceased her screams as suddenly as 
 if her mechanism had run down. Something like 
 a smile flashed across her grim-set lips. " Land o 
 love, sonny," she said to the child, " we don t want 
 your money. We ve got money enough." 
 
 " Then why " he began in bewilderment. 
 
 " Come on, Allie," interrupted Almiran, seizing 
 his hand. " We 11 be late to school if we don t 
 hurry. And we can t do no good here." 
 
 " Have they truly got money enough ? " the 
 little boy inquired, submitting, however, to be led 
 away. " Have they, honest and truly ? " 
 
 " Why, of course," Gitty broke in from behind 
 them. They were falling into line again in the 
 footpath. " It ain t lack o money that s the 
 matter." 
 
 " What is it, then ? " 
 
 For an instant there was no reply. 
 
 " Principle," said Almiran at length. 
 
 Following the word, like a refrain, there came 
 from Jurimy Loucks s barn the peremptory blast 
 of a horn. 
 
CHAPTER III 
 THE DINNER HORN 
 
 There is a period in youth when the mere power of numbers 
 has a more strong effect on ear and imagination than in after 
 life. WALTEK SCOTT. 
 
 " WHAT s that ? " cried Allie excitedly. " No 
 body s having dinner already." 
 
 " No matter," Almiran answered, laughing. 
 " That s all right. Don t let it bother you, little 
 boy. You come along to school." 
 
 Allie was not to be so readily silenced. He 
 had a child s inquisitiveness and persistency, and 
 would have pursued the subject had not his sister, 
 her sore pride impelling her to interfere, ordered 
 him sternly to be still. 
 
 And at this point the schoolhouse was reached. 
 The ugly building, its walls covered with charcoal 
 autographs and jackknife intaglios, stood on a 
 knoll in a pine grove, where the falling needles 
 strove in vain to carpet ground that was worn bare 
 and hard. At a convenient distance flourished a 
 quince-tree planted by some pedagogue with a 
 thought of his successors and a knowledge that 
 the ideal rod would be thence supplied in the 
 future. 
 
 About the grove was scattered a score of chil- 
 
THE DINNER HORN 23 
 
 dren, the younger girls playing house within the 
 stone boundaries they had laid under a spreading 
 tree, the boys shrieking at one another over their 
 whirling tops. A group of their elders whispered 
 with heads bent close together. There was a sense 
 of something unusual in the air. 
 
 Almiran joined the conference, but Gitty and 
 Mary Ann stayed with the strangers. As they 
 lingered on the doorstep a voice hailed them. 
 
 " Helloa, Gitty," it said. 
 
 Phe, looking up, saw a young fellow swing him 
 self over the stone wall bounding the Loucks farm 
 at this point. He was a big, broad-shouldered 
 youth, not prepossessing at first sight, with his 
 confident look and his cold keen eyes. But he 
 smiled on Allie in passing, clapping the child on 
 the shoulder, and that light transfigured his face. 
 No one is hopelessly ugly who has a good mouth. 
 The even, white teeth, the finely curved lips, the 
 sweet though fleeting expression, won a way to 
 Phe Colton s heart. " I like that boy," she 
 thought. 
 
 " Helloa, Matt," Gitty responded carelessly. 
 
 " Who is he ? " Allie inquired after the young 
 man had passed them. " Is n t he splendid ? " 
 
 Gitty tossed her head. " I don t know as Matt s 
 so very splendid. He s my brother." 
 
 " I think he s splendid." Allie s eyes followed 
 Matt Hager in his approach to the whispering 
 group beyond them. " Why don t you like him, 
 Gitty?" 
 
 They all laughed at this. " Oh, I like him well 
 
24 A- DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 enough," his sister rejoined with an offhand man 
 ner that could not conceal her pride. " I was only 
 thinking he s such a case to carry on." 
 
 Neither Allie nor Phe knew what was meant by 
 "a case to carry on." Gitty perceived that the 
 latter also gazed with interest after Mathice, and 
 she regretted not having included him in their 
 own company. That, of course, was what his salu 
 tation invited. Boys did not address their family 
 in public unless they wished something of them. 
 But it was too late now. Almiran was accosting 
 the newcomer. 
 
 " Why ain t you out with the rest? " he asked. 
 "Did you go?" 
 
 " Oh, I went. Yes. But there was nothing 
 to do." 
 
 " Why not ? " queried some one else. 
 
 " Too many others," said Matt. He lowered his 
 voice. " Tobe was scared off before half the In 
 dians got there. I tell you Loucks s woman is as 
 good as a watch-dog herself." 
 
 Ding-ding, ding-dong ! clanged a bell at the win 
 dow. 
 
 It was rung by a slim, pale-faced young man, a 
 Williams College sophomore, earning his slow way 
 to a degree. He leaned -from the casement, sending 
 out his summons, and in response thirty or forty 
 young people of varying ages trooped into the 
 schoolhouse. 
 
 " That s teacher," explained Mary Ann, " Wil 
 liam B. Rockwell." 
 
 She was relieved to have Phoebe take the initia- 
 
THE DINNER HORN 25 
 
 tive as soon as they had entered the room. The 
 new pupil told her name and her brother s, what 
 they had studied and how far they were advanced, 
 while the young man listened, smiling, and seemed 
 in no haste to end the conversation, although it 
 was time for school to begin. 
 
 " She s going to be his pet," Mary Ann con 
 fided to Gitty behind the cover of Cobbe s Speller. 
 
 Matt Hager fixed his gray eyes on the teacher, 
 whom Almiran Sweet was watching no less in 
 tently. They had seldom seen William B. Rock 
 well in so affable a mood. But Phe was very 
 pretty. The pure oval of her upturned face, the 
 fine line of Jier profile, the deep blue eyes, and the 
 rich brown hair were good to look at. And Wil 
 liam B. Rockwell was young. 
 
 A spitball struck the teacher on the throat. As 
 if the touch were a signal he was transformed 
 from a private citizen to a public official. Seiz 
 ing his ruler, he thumped upon the scarred red 
 desk behind which he sat. The buzzing room 
 sank instantly into order and silence. Heads fell 
 in the strictest devotion over books whose owners 
 swayed back and forth in their study. Phe sought 
 a place among the girls at one side of the room. 
 
 The pupils sat facing the wall, where ran desks 
 of the rudest description, while the benches were 
 of planks which must be stepped over from the 
 back, or the long seat entered from either end. 
 Allie, among the smaller students, noisily conned 
 Peter Parley s Geography. Phe was introduced to 
 the day s lesson in dumb show by Mary Ann, and 
 
26 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 fell to ciphering, Dayboll s Arithmetic propped 
 up before her. Mr. Rockwell summoned a class 
 to recite, and the hum of memorizing went up from 
 the seats. 
 
 Presently the instructor, moved by much smear 
 ing of Phe s slate and many piteous glances, tip 
 toed to her side, and bending over her shoulder 
 began in an undertone instructing her in the pro 
 cess by which she was bewildered. The girls near 
 her leaned forward to titter. Omar Mix winked 
 at Almiran. 
 
 With great precision a spitball hit Mr. Rock 
 well on the left cheek from one side of the room 
 as another resounded upon the right from the 
 opposite direction. He stood straight, glaring 
 about him. According to a superstition common 
 to the age and the type, William B. Rockwell 
 was endowed with eyes in the back of his head. 
 Yet perhaps in this instance they were not re 
 quired. 
 
 " Mathice Hager and Almiran Sweet," he said, 
 " go to the stove." 
 
 The two tall fellows, not in the least embar 
 rassed, rose and walked across the room. Out of 
 the sunshine, the sharp spring air still demanded 
 artificial heat. The box stove sputtered with its 
 burden of burning wood. The young men threw 
 themselves at full length upon the floor, thrusting 
 their heads underneath the stove. A subdued 
 sound arose as if they were talking together, while 
 their outstretched bodies obtruded upon an already 
 crowded space. They made no effort to dispose of 
 
THE DINNER HORN 27 
 
 themselves less obtrusively, and Mr. Rockwell was 
 soon forced to say, 
 
 "Mathice Hager and Almiran Sweet may toe 
 the crack and stoop over." 
 
 The young men forthwith drew their trium 
 phant faces into view, shrugged themselves to their 
 full height, and striding to the seam in the floor 
 indicated by a level forefinger, placed their feet 
 exactly in position so that the toes touched the 
 line, and no more. Giving a last scrutiny to the 
 room before they swung their bodies so that the 
 heads drooped to the floor, both spied Mr. Rock 
 well beaming upon Phoebe at the foot of the spell 
 ing class. 
 
 " I bet he s going to keep company with her," 
 murmured Almiran. 
 
 " I bet he won t." 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Because I m going to keep company with her 
 myself." 
 
 Almiran gave a grunt. Mr. Rockwell heard it 
 and opened his mouth for a rebuke. His eyes 
 were attracted first to the face of the clock, and 
 he announced recess. 
 
 The children rushed from the room in tumultu 
 ous disorder, the older pupils following more lei 
 surely to show that they were in no such haste for 
 amusement. Yet Phe was soon swept into play 
 in which they all participated. She joined a circle 
 moving about Omar Mix, while girls unruly sopra 
 nos mingled with the squeak and growl of boys 
 changing voices in the words : 
 
28 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " There she stands, the handsome creature. 
 
 Whom she is I do not know. 
 I admire her for her beauty. 
 Let her answer, Yes or No." 
 
 Like most of the young people of her day Phe 
 was thoroughly grounded, in the principles of pro 
 per speech, however far any of them might err in 
 practice. And that "intransitive verbs require 
 the same case after as before them when both 
 words refer to the same person or thing " was im 
 printed not alone upon her memory, but also on 
 her conversation. 
 
 " Oh, hear to Phe Colton ! " cried Caty Acker. 
 " She says, Who she is I do not know. " 
 
 Those who caught the criticism laughed deri 
 sively. Phe blushed to her forehead. She was 
 learning the power of a popular cry. After that 
 she sang " Whom she is " with the others. 
 
 In the constant change among the occupants of 
 the ring s position of honor, Matt Hager had now 
 been stationed there. Phe s attention was dis 
 tracted by the fault found with her diction. She 
 was looking after A Hie, too, who was playing tag 
 near by. She was all unprepared when two hands 
 were laid in gentle firmness upon her shoulders. 
 She was pulled slightly forward. A face bent to 
 touch her own. Mathice kissed her upon the 
 mouth. 
 
 With a stifled cry the girl shrank from him. 
 She heard as if it were part of a nightmare the 
 shrill mirth of her companions. To most of us 
 the awaking from childhood came not by a friendly 
 
THE DINNER HORN . 29 
 
 touch, but with some such rude handling. Phrebe 
 had played kissing games before this, but she 
 realized now that was as a little girl. It was 
 the first caress of youth that burned upon her lips. 
 
 Matt paid as scant heed as she to the amused 
 hubbub about them. " I beg your pardon," said 
 he involuntarily. He had never until then asked 
 forgiveness of anything on earth. 
 
 * It was my fault," stammered Phe, falling back 
 from the circle. " I had no right to take part if 
 if I felt like that. Oh, please," he was follow 
 ing her abashed retreat, "please go on with the 
 rest. Only I can t play any more." 
 
 " Come, Phe," called many voices. " It s your 
 turn to be in the ring." 
 
 " We are n t playing," Matt announced coolly. 
 " You go ahead. Phe and I want to have a little 
 talk." 
 
 The girl was seated on the exposed roots of a 
 pine-tree, where he proceeded to make a place for 
 himself. As he did so, as he stooped his tall head 
 under the sweeping branches, there was a slight 
 sidewise motion of his figure, a trick of recover 
 ing its balance by an equally abrupt gesture. It 
 was all bewilderingly familiar to Phe. 
 
 She fixed her blue eyes upon him. The misery 
 of their recent relation, the foolish game, and the 
 young man s offense were lost for the moment in 
 this confusion of remembrance. " Where have I 
 seen you before ?" she demanded. 
 
 Matt gave a conscious laugh. " You saw me in 
 school," he answered. " Of course." 
 
30 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Oh, not there. Somewhere, sometime, we two 
 have met." In his silence she pursued her inquiry, 
 still studying his features. " Don t you feel it 
 too, as if you had seen me before to-day ? " 
 
 Matt gathered up a handful of needles and 
 began the construction of a chain. He did not 
 return her look. The reticence in his manner in 
 creased Phe s curiosity. 
 
 " Have n t you seen me too ? " she repeated. 
 
 He flung away the pine needles. Turning full 
 upon her he gazed straight into her eyes. " Yes," 
 he answered deliberately. " And I ve thought of 
 you ever since." 
 
 She sprang to her feet, flushing hotly. This was 
 so much more than she had expected. " Where 
 was it?" rather faintly she queried. 
 
 " Ah, that, said Matt with a light laugh, " is 
 my secret. I could n t tell you that." 
 
 Mr. Rockwell now appeared at the door. Recess 
 was over. 
 
 At the first clang of the bell he held, it clashed 
 upon another sound. There was the blast of a 
 dinner horn. 
 
 The teacher s arm dropped in a gesture of de 
 spair. He watched, as if prepared for resigna 
 tion, the immediate response. Every young man, 
 some of the girls, many of the little boys, answered. 
 In one moment they had fled. In another they 
 disappeared from sight. 
 
 Surveying the few pupils who remained he said, 
 " You may as well go home, children. There will 
 be no more school to-day." 
 
THE DINNER HORN 31 
 
 Phe had seized upon her brother, thus restrain 
 ing him from following the others. " What was 
 it ? " he asked querulously, as if the world owed 
 him an explanation. " What is it all about ? " 
 
 Mr. Rockwell heard and answered, if that could 
 be called an answer which Allie in no wise under 
 stood : 
 
 " It was a warning that the sheriff s men are 
 out ; a warning, and a call to the Indians." 
 
 Thereupon he went into the schoolhouse, slam 
 ming the door behind him. 
 
CHAPTER IV 
 
 VISITOKS 
 
 Many elephants cannot wade the river. The mosquito says it 
 is only knee-deep. Bengal Proverb. 
 
 WHEN Allie rushed in upon the family, breath 
 less and eager to recount the adventures of his 
 first day at school, the doctor, even with his supe 
 rior information concerning life at Farley, could 
 say little to satisfy the child s curiosity. 
 
 " Those men we saw in their mummery, Phe 
 you remember ? They call themselves Indians. 
 Foolish fellows ! The Legislature passed an act 
 against disguises, this winter, aimed at the Anti- 
 renters. They break the law every time they trick 
 themselves out in that fashion. Their summons, 
 I suspect, is to defy the sheriff. They seem beside 
 themselves. The end is inevitable. The gover 
 nor will call for troops to stamp out the insurrec 
 tion. They know they can t fight the State, and 
 yet they will assuredly provoke it to act." 
 
 " Oh, dear," Phe reflected, " and he went right 
 into the danger ! He is so reckless." 
 
 A girl rarely thinks the worse of a man because 
 he is reckless. And already Matt Hager was He 
 to Phoebe. 
 
 She awaited apprehensively her father s return 
 
VISITORS 33 
 
 from his afternoon round of visits, sure that he 
 would bring news of what had occurred that morn 
 ing. When his man, Henry Fisher, drove into 
 the grassy dooryard, Phe ran out to meet him. 
 " Where is father ? " she called. " Has anything 
 happened ? " 
 
 Henry was a sheep-faced young fellow, grinning 
 at a word and blushing to the roots of his blue- 
 white hair. He turned scarlet at Phe s appear 
 ance, and his broad smile widened. 
 
 " You re turrible scairt about your father," 
 said he. " They ain t nothin gone wrong. He 
 jes stopped a Widder Fincks s down the road a 
 ways. He ast me to drive along home an tell the 
 folks not o wait supper. He ain t hurt." 
 
 " And," Phe hesitated, stroking the horse s 
 sleek side, " what was the matter this morning, 
 Henry ? Was anybody hurt ? " 
 
 Henry glanced helplessly towards the kitchen 
 door. It was a family saying that he had no 
 opinions until Jemima Lane examined them and 
 they were pronounced genuine. Fortunately, at 
 this juncture, Jemima appeared on the back porch, 
 her apron thrown over her head. " You back ? " 
 she remarked by way of salutation. 
 
 Henry grinned an assent. 
 
 " What was they of that horn blowin ? " 
 
 Forthwith the man s tongue was loosened. 
 
 " You never see sech works," said he. " The 
 depity an his men was set on to Jurimy Loucks s. 
 They was as many as twenty Injuns. They car 
 ried rifles, an they acted ugly. Snyder an his men 
 
34 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 they run like all git out. From there they went 
 to Michel Enders s. T ain t far from Loucks s. 
 An Enders he blowed his horn so t the Injuns 
 come ag in strong. They must a been thirty 
 forty on em. What ye s pose they done? 
 They took Tobe Snyder an hove him down an set 
 on him. He could n t budge to help hisself . Nor 
 his men they could n t do nothin nuther, four to 
 one ag in em. I guess they was putty well scairt, 
 Snyder an mongst em. The upshot was they lef 
 Enders s, too." 
 
 Phe regarded Henry s foolish smile with a terri 
 fied fascination. " But," she faltered, " that was 
 resisting the law. Won t they be punished ? " 
 
 " Why, Phoebe," urged the man, " they was 
 masked. Nobody can t tell who they be. O course 
 they d be arrested if they should git ketched. But 
 who s goin to ketch em when they can t tell who 
 they be ? " 
 
 He was so confident of his position that he dared 
 maintain it in Jemima s very presence. He as 
 sumed that her silence gave him sanction. But 
 she broke that silence. " What s to hender their 
 bein ketched ? " she queried sternly. " Take a 
 town o this size, an forty fifty men in it luggin 
 a secret round, I guess t won t be long before it s 
 plain enough who they be. In half a hunderd 
 men they s bound to be one tattler." 
 
 Her sharp voice seemed to tear Henry s boastful 
 assertions into shreds. Phoebe shivered, and began 
 her retreat to the house from the chill of the even 
 ing air. Henry called " Git ap " to Sam, taking his 
 
VISITORS 35 
 
 revenge as he drove past the girl by muttering for 
 her ear alone, 
 
 " Ef they was a woman mongst them Injuns 
 I guess the town would ring with the names of 
 em all by cockcrow." 
 
 He might have known ! 
 
 " A woman ! " echoed Jemima Lane before the 
 last phrase left his lips. " A woman, says I ! 
 Gimme a passel o men for spreadin news. Gimme 
 a man gossip an he beats creation. Now you take 
 that hoss along to the barn, an put him out quick s 
 ye can. Supper s ready an waitin . Where s 
 the doctor ? " 
 
 Henry repeated his master s message. 
 
 " For all that," declared Jemima authorita 
 tively, " he ain t goin without a meal o vittles. 
 Not while he s clos t to hand. Allie, lemme have 
 the horn." 
 
 She called to the child within the house, who 
 brought her a great tin horn from its nail behind 
 the door. Jemima raised it to her lips, blowing a 
 mighty blast. 
 
 " That 11 bring him," she observed in satisfac 
 tion, and carried it back to its place. 
 
 After their lessons were learned that night Phe 
 and Allie strayed out of doors again. The sounds 
 and scents of early spring drew them. The frogs 
 in the meadow called them. That first faint tra 
 cery of green outlining bough and bush waved to 
 them. The house was as a prison. They found 
 their wraps, and the doctor silenced Mrs. Colton s 
 remonstrance with " Oh, let them go. They will 
 
36 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 run about enough to keep warm. And the even 
 ing is perfect." 
 
 So the little boy and the tall girl swung on the 
 gate and chattered idly together while the twilight 
 lingered and the stars came out in the clear, pale 
 sky. Allie related to his sister the unabridged 
 details of a muskrat hunt which had occupied 
 that afternoon. Phe gave him a divided atten 
 tion. 
 
 " Hark ! " she interrupted at last. " What s 
 that ? Don t you hear something ? " 
 
 " Something ? I hear all sorts of things, the 
 tree-toads, and a cow mooing, and Oh, that ! " 
 
 He clasped her hand tightly. 
 
 Along the road came the thud, thud of horses 
 feet, many horses nearing them at a gallop. It 
 had been an exciting day, and Phoebe and the 
 child were both unnerved. They clung to each 
 other, staring with frightened eyes in the direction 
 of the sound. 
 
 As it grew louder it brought Dr. Colton and his 
 wife to the door, the little woman shrinking into 
 the shadow of the self-reliant man, they two act 
 ing the part they had always played together. 
 Henry followed Jemima Lane around the corner 
 of the house. No one spoke. 
 
 And now they could see what approached them. 
 A score of men were charging down the quiet road. 
 Their horses were fantastically trapped in blankets 
 that grazed the ground, the head concealed except 
 for the eyes and ears and nose. The riders wore 
 long blouses of flowered chintz, with horsehair 
 
VISITORS 37 
 
 plumes or nodding feathers stuck in their hair. 
 All were masked. 
 
 Allie began to whimper. No one else made a 
 sound. Phe knelt beside him, taking the boy in 
 her arms. She tried to speak, to comfort him, but 
 her lips were dry and stiff. The words would not 
 come from her throat. 
 
 The leader of the band drew his rein at the gate. 
 He swung himself to the ground, followed by one 
 after another of his companions, until some half 
 dozen had alighted. The others halted, but sat 
 still, statues of folly, regarding the scene through 
 those owl-like eyes of their masks. 
 
 As the gate opened Allie uttered a gasp of 
 horror. But he whirled about valiantly in Phe s 
 embrace. 
 
 " You good-for-nothing Indians," said he, " don t 
 you dare to touch my sister." 
 
 The men laughed constrainedly. The foremost 
 lifted a voice inartistically disguised. " Is that 
 Dr. Colton in the door ? We want to see Dr. 
 Colton." 
 
 " Here I am," answered the doctor. He came 
 to the head of the short flight of steps. 
 
 His wife cried out. Phoebe and Allie with trem 
 bling courage ran up the path to station themselves 
 at his side. Jemima and Henry were already there. 
 
 "Nobody means to hurt him," two or three men 
 assured them in gruff or falsetto tones. " Don t 
 be scared. We re only going to have a little talk 
 with the doctor." 
 
 " What are you going to say ? " 
 
38 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 "This much." The leader advanced until he 
 stood alone in the gravel walk, facing that group 
 on the stairs above him. " Doc, you don t want to 
 blow that dinner horn again." 
 
 " Oh, I don t ? " The doctor s eyebrows rose 
 quizzically. " Why don t I ? " 
 
 " Because the Indians say you sha n t. That s 
 why." 
 
 " Gentlemen," the mild tone inquired, " what is 
 your objection to my dinner horn ? " 
 
 " You know well enough," the leader rejoined. 
 " It s our signal. We can t afford to be fooled 
 with false alarms. We don t allow any horns to 
 be blowed in Farley, not unless they mean the 
 one thing. Do you understand ? " 
 
 " Not quite," said the doctor. " What is the 
 one thing ? " 
 
 " A warning that the sheriff has come." 
 
 " Ah ! " 
 
 " Now do you understand? " 
 
 "Apparently," Dr. Colton answered, "you do 
 not understand me. Gentlemen, my dinner horn 
 shall blow whenever, and for whatever reason, my 
 family think best. I bid you all good-evening." 
 
 He would have left them, had not an exclama 
 tion from the leader arrested him : " Wait a min 
 ute. Not so fast, if you please. Do you suppose 
 that ends the matter ? " 
 
 "It does so far as I am concerned," was the 
 indifferent reply. 
 
 " Then, by jingo, it don t end it as far as we re 
 concerned." 
 
VISITORS 39 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 "You shall hear from us, doc." 
 
 " Very well." 
 
 " Let s see if you say, Very well this time 
 next fall. Hey, boys ? " 
 
 There was a hoarse chorus of assent. Phosbe, 
 shaking in her clutch upon Jemima s steady arm, 
 noticed one figure near the leader, a figure that, 
 a cold grasp at her heart told her, had something 
 in its bearing which again she recognized. 
 This man, she saw, was not only ill at ease, but he 
 failed to join in the muttered assurance. 
 
 In the interest of the moment no one had heard 
 signs of interruption until the guard in the road 
 hissed a warning as the rattle of wheels drew 
 nearer. A trim little buggy with two horses was 
 bowling along the road. 
 
 " Whoa, boys," said the driver curtly. 
 
 Two men leaped from the carriage. The In 
 dians gave a common cry of vexation, most of them 
 forgetting their affected speech. Phe knew the 
 voice of the man near her the man who had been 
 ill at ease when he grumbled under his breath 
 but distinctly, " What ill wind blew them here ? " 
 
 The newcomers were a dapper, big-headed strip 
 ling and an elderly man of commanding presence. 
 " What is the matter ? " he asked peremptorily, as 
 he stalked along the path, followed by the youth. 
 " You are up to no mischief, I hope ? " 
 
 " No, no, Squire," the chief speaker assured him, 
 " we are all right. We were just paying doc here 
 a friendly visit. We have n t touched him." 
 
40 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 "Ah! So this is the new doctor." He ad 
 vanced to the lowest step, and reached up his hand. 
 " I am Mark Mayham, at your service, Dr. Col- 
 ton." Then first spying Mrs. Colton he removed 
 his high silk hat with a quaint stateliness. " I beg 
 your pardon, madam. I had no idea there Were 
 ladies present." 
 
 The doctor named his companions. Esquire 
 Mayham ceremoniously presented the friend with 
 him as Demosthenes Mix. 
 
 At the name Phe regarded the spruce little man 
 more attentively. She found that he was peering 
 through the dusk at her. 
 
 " I trust our good offices are not required," he 
 said in a mincing attempt at precision. " Boys," 
 addressing the Indians, " of course you understand 
 that the law is set at defiance by your disguise. 
 You are aware that I could see every one of you in 
 jail. I hold you in the hollow of my hand." 
 
 There was a yell of derision. 
 
 " Boys," repeated the man Phe had been watch 
 ing, " don t you feel pretty small ? Mossy Mix is 
 holding us in the hollow of his hand." 
 
 He mimicked the high-pitched tone, but through 
 his words Phoabe heard the deeper voice of Mathice 
 Hager. 
 
 " You may jeer now," Demosthenes called above 
 another shout, " yet you know that I speak the 
 truth. You Indians are going straight to destruc 
 tion." 
 
 " We re going straight to our homes at present," 
 retorted the leader, facing his men. " I m sure 
 
VISITORS 41 
 
 we re obligated for your interest, Mossy. It s 
 very kind. And, doc, you remember all I said." 
 
 " Oh, yes," assented the doctor, " I shall re 
 member." 
 
 "May I ask what it was about? " inquired the 
 squire. " Your dinner horn, perhaps ? " 
 
 " Yes. They say I sha n t blow it." 
 
 " And what do you say ? " 
 
 That I shall." 
 
 " You are altogether in the right," Squire May- 
 ham decided. 
 
 At this, another outcry arose from the Indians, 
 an interjection of surprise. " Why, how is that?" 
 demanded the leader. " I thought you were with 
 us, heart and soul." 
 
 "No, my friend." The carefully modulated 
 voice neither rose nor fell in its earnestness. " I 
 sympathize with the cause of Anti-rent. I believe 
 that I have a legal and a moral claim to the land 
 my forefathers occupied for generations. But I 
 never held, and I do not hold to-night, any such 
 view as you have come here to enforce. It is mon 
 strous that you should interfere in the private 
 affairs of a private citizen. I rejoice to see this 
 stranger among us assert his independence and his 
 manhood. Dr. Colton, I congratulate you upon 
 the course you have pursued." 
 
 The doctor himself had taken his position from 
 an impulse, a swift decision that the time for acqui 
 escence was past, that he could be no plaything 
 of popular feeling. He knew one of the rare 
 pure joys of earth as he confronted his enemies, 
 
42 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 clasping the hand Squire Mayham stretched out 
 to him. 
 
 " I, likewise, approve of your action in toto" 
 Demosthenes Mix assured him, his eyes on Phrebe s 
 face. 
 
 Matt Hager crossed over to the leader, murmur 
 ing something in his ear. The man thereupon 
 gruffly gave an order to depart. " But we sha n t 
 forget you, doc," he announced by way of farewell. 
 " No, nor yet you, squire." 
 
 " I am not afraid of you," Demosthenes called 
 after them, " not in the least afraid." 
 
 " You ve no need to be," was the rejoinder. 
 " We re fighting men, sonny. We would n t go to 
 touch you." 
 
 With this the Indians cantered away. 
 
CHAPTER V 
 
 GENERAL TRAINING 
 
 One dupe is as impossible as one twin. JOHN STEELING. 
 
 " I LL drive up clos t to the green," said Henry 
 Fisher, " so as ye can all git out fore I take the 
 hosses to the tavern and bait em." 
 
 Farley was a town of farms. The sleepy Main 
 Street contained but a score or so of buildings 
 clustered about the green. Here the visiting cir 
 cus raised its tent, here the oration was delivered 
 on Independence Day, and here naturally was the 
 spot selected for General Training. 
 
 This was a school holiday, and although Dr. 
 Colton, who was exempt from military duties, had 
 gone as usual about his round of visits, he was 
 too merciful to his children to require the services 
 of either, while Henry was a militiaman. He 
 wore no uniform. Members of the Goodwood 
 Company of Farley were to be seen coming to 
 gether from every direction, but, save for the cap 
 tain and his first lieutenant, whose absurd gar 
 ments were of antique make, and except for the 
 second lieutenant s sash and sabre, there was no 
 thing in the men s dress to indicate that they were 
 soldiers. Many of them bore no weapon more 
 
44 A DOWNHENTER S SON 
 
 formidable than a stick. General Training was 
 fading into a listless form preserved as an excuse 
 for one of the country s few merrymakings. All 
 dread of war, all belief in the need of prepara 
 tion, had died from the minds of men. And the 
 secession of the Southern States was but fifteen 
 years in the future. 
 
 Allie sprang over the back of the wagon, dart 
 ing away into the increasing crowd. Jemima 
 climbed stiffly from her own chair and helped Mrs. 
 Colton to descend to the ground, while Phe pushed 
 these seats aside. 
 
 " Now you be round," Jemima addressed Henry 
 sternly, " the minute you re dismissed for noonin . 
 We ain t goin to wait for ye. I tell ye that. Ye 
 won t git a mouffle unless you re here." 
 
 " All right," he assented. " I 11 be round," and 
 drove away. % 
 
 Phcebe was captured at once by some of the 
 friends she had made at school. She saw her 
 mother, attended by Jemima, comfortably estab 
 lished under one of the maples that bordered 
 the great lawn. Then the knot of girls wandered 
 up and down the board walk, giggling and whis 
 pering and coquetting with the youths who hung 
 about them waiting for the sergeant to " fall in " 
 his men. 
 
 Presently the rattle of the drum called the com 
 pany into line, such a line ! Crooked, wavering, 
 the militia, awkward individually and collectively, 
 faced the right and swayed from one foot to the 
 other in preparation for the march. Fife notes 
 
GENERAL TRAINING 45 
 
 pierced the air in an unintentional variation of 
 Yankee Doodle. They drew the Goodwood Com 
 pany after them. Up the street tramped the men, 
 cheered on by accompanying boys and by the wav 
 ing handkerchiefs of women. 
 
 "Don t he look nice?" said Gitty Hager in 
 Phe s ear. 
 
 " Splendid," was the ready answer. " I think he 
 looks the best of anybody. But then all the rest 
 are horrid." 
 
 " Oh, I don t know about that." Gitty s lips 
 pouted. " Matt looks kind of nice." 
 
 Phoebe unclasped her friend s hand to stare at 
 her. " Why, I meant Matt ! " 
 
 " Did you ? " with a foolish smile. " I was talk 
 ing about Almiran." 
 
 When the company was countermarched it re 
 turned to the green, where various evolutions were 
 displayed with more or less hesitancy, but to un 
 critical observers. " I don t see," said Jemima 
 Lane to Mrs. Colton, " but Henery does as good 
 as any of em considerin ." 
 
 The signal for dismissal was followed by Hen 
 ry s prompt return to their group. The habit of 
 obedience and fear of Jemima combined to keep 
 him from those few who surrounded the farm 
 wagon whence its owner was dispensing home-made 
 spruce beer. Principle restrained him from follow 
 ing the many who flocked to the bar-room of the 
 tavern. Intemperance was common in these days, 
 but Henry was a Washingtonian and had signed 
 the pledge. 
 
46 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 Yet Jemima s sharp eyes noticed, while they 
 carried their basket to a point of comparative se 
 clusion, that her fellow-servant was absent-minded 
 and constrained, " kind o sly," she called it to her 
 self. She had seen much whispering carried on in 
 the ranks ; Henry had been drawn aside and but 
 tonholed more than once. Something was astir 
 that June morning, and evidently young Fisher was 
 a party to it. Jemima decided not to leave him 
 alone for an instant. 
 
 " Land knows what mischief the poor fool would 
 get into without me," her reflection ran. 
 
 Throughout the morning Allie had been eating 
 whenever he could coax a cooky from his mother, 
 and Phoebe carried off her choice of their bountiful 
 provision fat cucumber pickles and soft molasses 
 cakes were all she wished to devour in the society 
 of her schoolmates. Perhaps in attaching herself 
 to Gitty she had a hope that Mathice might join 
 them, sisters do serve such useful purposes in 
 this world. But the young man seemed pointedly 
 to avoid any company of which Phoebe formed a 
 part. 
 
 Under these circumstances a girl always consid 
 ers herself the sufficient reason. " What have I 
 done ? " is her first question. Yet, as is also usual, 
 Matt s shyness came from causes wherein Phcebe 
 personally had no share. 
 
 They two had scarcely seen each other since the 
 night of the Indians warning. Spring work came 
 on, and Matt was kept from school. He was too 
 tired to take part in the rare festivities of the 
 
GENERAL TRAINING 47 
 
 neighborhood, while they never met at church. 
 During those weeks it had been partly a general 
 absorption in farm duties, partly Matt s strong 
 personality which had, so far, protected the threat 
 ened men from harm, and, while consorting with 
 those who bore her father an implacable ill-will, he 
 was ashamed to face the daughter. He felt the 
 girl insulted, too, by the look and the laugh that 
 followed his protests against a raid on Dr. Colton. 
 His fellow rioters could comprehend interference 
 in favor of Squire Mayham, who was Matt s dis 
 tant cousin. But why should he stand between 
 them and the new physician, if it were not for the 
 sake of a pretty girl ? 
 
 To-day there was still further cause for him to 
 stand aloof. Old Jacob Hager was, in local par 
 lance, " well off." His only son had not finished 
 working out his time. Money was scarce in a 
 community relying largely upon a system of ex 
 change, and even the smallest coin seldom fell into 
 Mathice s hand. He was too proud to stroll with 
 Phe past the wagon where root-beer was sold, or 
 by the booth, displaying in irresistible temptation 
 slabs of golden gingerbread, glasses of lemonade, 
 and a jar of pink and white peppermint sticks. 
 Matt stalked about the green during nooning, 
 neither touching the luncheon with which his 
 mother had filled his pockets, nor paying more than 
 indifferent heed to the stir and conference among 
 his friends. 
 
 After an hour s rest the drum again summoned 
 the company together. It marched and counter- 
 
48 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 inarched, wheeled right and left, charged bayonets, 
 and at four o clock was disbanded. 
 
 Now wagons began to collect from the tavern 
 stables, the militiamen to gather together their fam 
 ilies preparatory to adjournment to the fair ground, 
 where the day was to conclude with horseraces. 
 Henry Fisher, one of the minority who were going 
 directly home, was as impatient in his easy way 
 as if the expedition had been against his wishes, 
 altogether to please the others, who, having 
 effected their purpose, must allow him his tardy 
 rights. 
 
 "Can t fool no more time away," he remon 
 strated. " Why don t you folks hurry up ? I got 
 o git home an tend to my chores." 
 
 " Well, nobuddy s hinderin ye," snapped Je 
 mima Lane. She, also, was tired and cross. " We re 
 ready, land knows. Where s Phrebe ? " 
 
 "No, Phoebe ain t here, nuther," Henry com 
 plained. " Now I got o wait for her, I s pose." 
 
 " Phe told me she would walk home," Mrs. 
 Colton s mild voice interjected. " Several of the 
 girls went her way. I saw them starting off some 
 time ago." 
 
 Allie fell to whining at this. He wished to 
 walk and overtake Pho3be. His mother s atten 
 tion was distracted in soothing him, or she might 
 have observed the group of young folks on a by 
 path across the fields that bordered the turnpike, 
 now deep in dust. The half dozen friends soon 
 parted from one another, as their ways led in vari 
 ous directions. Phe was presently left with Gitty, 
 
GENERAL TRAINING 49 
 
 then, from the bars in Hager s meadow lot, quite 
 alone. 
 
 " I don t see what was the matter with the boys 
 to-night," was Gitty s valedictory. " Pretty cool 
 of em, I think, to let us go home by ourselves. 
 Every one of em disappeared the minute they was 
 disbanded. Did you see that ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Phrebe. 
 
 She toiled up the slope on the farther side of 
 the rail fence, her eyes fixed on the grove of maples 
 that crowned the summit, her mind busy with the 
 events of a tedious holiday, her step lagging as she 
 became fully aware how dull the hours had been. 
 So tired she was that, on reaching the crown of the 
 hill, she threw herself upon the ground, at the foot 
 of a large tree, and leaned her head against its 
 trunk to rest for a stolen instant before taking up 
 her lonely walk. The twilight was long, in those 
 longest days, and she had a mile still to go. There 
 was sufficient time that she might afford to waste a 
 little here, and she was weary. 
 
 The twigs snapped, and the dry leaves crackled 
 in the wood beyond. Phe heard the tramp of a 
 cow and its moo calling its calf. She paid no at 
 tention to the sounds, nor their nearness. 
 
 " Fetch him over here," directed an unnatural 
 bass voice. " Here, where there s a clearing. Now, 
 boys, make a bonfire, quick." 
 
 There ensued a curious, stifled murmur. Some 
 one seemed trying vainly to protest. It was fol 
 lowed by two or three falsely pitched voices, and 
 the dragging of a reluctant burden pulled roughly 
 
50 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 through the underbrush. Phe leaned forward, 
 looking around the tree-trunk that concealed her 
 from view. 
 
 In the heart of the little grove was a depression 
 almost free from shrubs and trees. Here some 
 half-score men, in the already familiar disguise, 
 were tying Job Ecker, the constable, to a stout oak. 
 A handkerchief was bound across his mouth, 
 although his hands had been left free. Having 
 firmly secured him here the Indians proceeded to 
 build a fire close by, so close that Phe, her cheeks 
 white with horror, supposed they meant to burn 
 him, and the victim uttered for himself a choked 
 remonstrance. 
 
 " Oh, shut up, Job," cried one of his captors. 
 " Do you think we re going to cook you ? How 
 you act ! Throw them papers in the fire. That s 
 all we want." 
 
 Job shook his head. 
 
 " You won t ? " 
 
 Job shook his head again. 
 
 " Now I m speaking honest and truly," said the 
 leader. " We ain t disposed to hurt nobody, and 
 we don t mean to hurt you. But you got to burn 
 them papers." 
 
 Job mumbled something Phe could not catch. 
 
 " Oh, darn your duty to the State," was the 
 careless rejoinder. "Ain t a man s first duty to 
 his wife and family ? How will they like it if 
 you re brought back to em with your skin het off 
 with boilin tar ? Say, how will they like that ? " 
 
 "How will Job Ecker like it?" another ques- 
 
GENERAL TRAINING 51 
 
 tioned, laughing. Phoebe recognized that laugh. 
 It was Omar Mix who spoke. 
 
 At a nod from his leader he set a kettle on the 
 fire, beginning to stir its odorous contents. " I 
 guess on the whole Job s the main person to con 
 sider," he remarked while thus engaged. 
 
 " Will you do it ? " asked the first speaker. 
 
 " Do what ? " the constable whispered thickly. 
 
 " Burn them papers." 
 
 Still he shook his head. 
 
 " Haul off his boots, boys. Fill em with tar. 
 Let him have a taste of what we mean." 
 
 Omar and three others sprang forward. They 
 knelt before the wriggling figure and gave a tug 
 at his feet. Job uttered a terrible, muffled shriek. 
 
 It roused in the frightened girl, cowering in her 
 shelter, the spirit of justice that is, for its instant, 
 stronger than any other sensation in the mind of 
 man. She forgot her weakness, forgot all that 
 went to make up the situation, all save that this 
 poor creature, dully obedient to his trust, stood 
 there alone, outnumbered. Scrambling to her feet 
 she sprang to the hollow s rim. 
 
 " Stop ! " she screamed. 
 
 Omar and his mates fell back. The others 
 started, grasping at their guns. 
 
 " Stop ! " Phoebe cried once more. 
 
 They looked whence came the mysterious inter 
 ruption. Outlined against a leafy background was 
 the slight and rigid form, the face brilliant with 
 righteous anger, above an outstretched, menacing 
 arm. 
 
52 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Unbind that man ! " she commanded. " Let 
 him go ! If you do him harm, if you touch him 
 again to hurt him, I shall tell the authorities what 
 I know." 
 
 The Indians glared at her, speechless yet with 
 surprise. 
 
 " I can swear to one of you," said Phoebe. 
 " Loose the constable or, so help me Heaven, I will 
 betray the man I know." 
 
 They saw that they were truly at her mercy. 
 The very vagueness of the accusation, no less than 
 the melodramatic quality of her excitement, inten 
 sified their fear. 
 
 " Let him go," directed the leader gruffly. 
 
 Phe stood shaking with terror she stood her 
 ground till Job Ecker had shaken himself like 
 a Newfoundland dog, and trudged off along the 
 path. Then she, likewise, turned and fled. 
 
 At break-neck speed she ran over the brow of 
 the hill, back on the way she had come, anywhere 
 to leave those dreadful men, to find shelter and 
 protection from them. How had she dared do 
 this thing? How could she ask what she had 
 asked prove her strength against their own ? 
 
 The more horrid thought hid its head for a 
 time, although in the end it must be dragged to 
 the light. Had Matt Hager been among those 
 others ? Would he suppose that he had been 
 recognized, that she threatened to surrender him 
 to punishment? 
 
 A house nestled in the lowland across the slop 
 ing fields. It loomed up to welcome her as she 
 
GENERAL TRAINING 53 
 
 passed the barn. She stumbled at the porch, she 
 staggered with fatigue, throwing her weight against 
 the door. 
 
 " Let me in," she gasped. 
 
 Hurried steps sounded across the floor. A hand 
 lifted the latch. The door was flung wide open. 
 Matt Hager stood on the sill. 
 
 " Oh, thank God ! " cried Phoebe. 
 
CHAPTER VI 
 
 OLD JACOB AT HOME 
 
 Self-satisfaction is usually found in its highest perfection in 
 narrow minds and narrow lives. PHILIP GILBERT HAMEKTON. 
 
 " You ! " Mathice exclaimed. 
 
 In the next instant, at sight of the girl s white 
 face he added, " What is the matter ? Have you 
 been frightened ? " 
 
 He seemed, as Phe realized, to understand some 
 thing of what had happened. Still, evidently, he 
 had not been a participant in the attack upon the 
 constable. Out of her deep relief Phe spoke. 
 
 " It was nothing. Yes, I was frightened, but it 
 was at nothing. May I come in, and and see 
 Gitty?" 
 
 " Come in ? Of course you may," the young 
 host answered eagerly, closing the door behind 
 them. " Mother ! Gitty ! Here is company." 
 
 From an outer room, the buttery, Gitty ap 
 peared carrying a pitcher of milk, and followed by 
 a meek, shy little woman whom Phoebe relieved 
 the embarrassment of the others by immediately 
 greeting as Mrs. Hager. 
 
 " I am afraid I have come at an inconvenient 
 time," said she. "I saw some rough men, on my 
 way home, and I ran back, without thinking, to 
 
OLD JACOB AT HOME 55 
 
 the nearest house. Please forgive me for making 
 use of you like this." 
 
 Phe was secretly vexed. They would be forced 
 to invite her to supper, it was quite supper time, 
 and then Matt must act as her escort. She 
 resented thrusting herself upon any one, upon 
 Mathice Hager of all persons. But Phoebe was, 
 as Jemima Lane often told Henry, "a perfect 
 little lady," and she concealed her annoyance 
 under what was reckoned only proper hesitation. 
 
 " It don t make a bit of difference," Gitty 
 civilly declared in conjunction with Matt s reas 
 surance, 
 
 " You re as welcome as you can be. Stay to 
 tea, Phosbe, and afterwards I ll wait on you 
 home." 
 
 With masculine disregard of details, this plan 
 struck him as peculiarly delightful. He paid no 
 attention to his sister s slight reluctance in repeat 
 ing the hospitable offer. Once Gitty had par 
 taken of a meal at the doctor s house, and " they 
 live so nice," she reflected bitterly, while she was 
 removing Phe s bonnet, that being an accepted 
 method of welcoming a guest. She wished with 
 all her heart this had not happened so. Mrs. 
 Hager also, having brought to her husband s home 
 traditions of a freer and finer life, hesitated in the 
 entertainment of the prettily behaved young girl. 
 She thought nervously of her husband. Mathice 
 thought only of Phe. 
 
 While the little group still stood around the 
 entrance door, it flew open, and the master of the 
 
56 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 house came in. Phe knew who he must be, 
 although she had never seen him before, and 
 despite the lack of resemblance between the father 
 and his children. He was a small, wiry man, with 
 a shriveled face and bent shoulders, an overbear 
 ing bluster about him that proclaimed this insig 
 nificant-looking person a tyrant over every being 
 and every thing in his household. He regarded 
 Phe with the rough curiosity of an untrained 
 nature acknowledged to be eccentric. 
 
 " Who s that? " he blurted out. 
 
 Gitty and Mathice stepped forward together, 
 one on either side of the stranger. " This is Miss 
 Colton, father," the young man began hurriedly. 
 " Dr. Colton s daughter. She has come to visit 
 us." 
 
 "I see she has," said old Jacob in uncouth 
 pleasantry, rude merely because he was old Jacob 
 and a sharp answer was expected of him. He 
 took a fancy, however, to Phoebe. The lovely face 
 and the gentle air of good breeding had their effect 
 upon him. He allowed Phe to lay her hand in his, 
 although he did not know what to do with it. 
 
 " I fled to you for shelter, Mr. Hager." The girl 
 repeated her story. " I was scared by some men 
 as I was going through Sweet s Woods, and I 
 ran to the nearest house. I was sure you would 
 let me in." 
 
 Gitty and Matt trembled alike at any speech 
 with their father, uncertain as to his response. 
 Phe s tact, on the other hand, had guessed that he 
 would be flattered by her appeal. And he was. 
 
OLD JACOB AT HOME 57 
 
 "That s all right," he growled. "Mother, 
 ain t we goin to have any supper to-night? " 
 
 He moved away from the others, ashamed al 
 ready of even so much politeness, and, in address 
 ing his wife, he flung the question at her over his 
 shoulder. He seldom looked at those to whom he 
 spoke, but that was true of most of his associates. 
 To control the eyes is the last result of social ease. 
 
 "There is one thing," Phoebe casually observed, 
 crossing to the window ; " the twilights are so long 
 now that I can surely get home before it is dark." 
 
 She gazed out on the stretch of quiet field and 
 the curve of roadway, as if the picture were of 
 moment to her and she had not turned her back to 
 the kitchen to allow her hostesses a chance to work 
 unwatched. Matt joined her directly, beginning 
 to talk with animation, and endeavoring to divert 
 her attention from his father. Jacob had seated 
 himself on the edge of a bed in a curtained recess 
 of the kitchen, and proceeded to pull off his boots, 
 kicking them out of sight. He thereupon strode 
 forward in his blue yarn stockings and viewed the 
 round table which his daughter pulled out from 
 the wall, letting down its snow-white top. 
 
 " Goin to have s pawn ? " he asked sharply. 
 
 The corners of Gitty s mouth drooped. She 
 did think they might have a decent supper for 
 Phoebe Colton. But years ago Maria Hager had 
 dashed her hopes too often against that iron will 
 to have one left alive. She made a deprecating 
 gesture of entreaty. 
 
 " Yes," said Gitty sullenly. 
 
58 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 She dared not spread a cloth on the table. She 
 brought presently and thumped down upon it a 
 huge pan of bubbling mush. She set beside it the 
 pitcher of milk, counted out five pewter spoons 
 from the holder in the cupboard, and called in a 
 sulky voice : 
 
 " S pawn s ready, Matt." 
 
 Phoebe felt the discomfort in the atmosphere 
 without seeing Matt s frown or Gitty s confusion. 
 She followed the young man to the table and took 
 her designated chair with outward unconcern. 
 Mrs. Colton was a housekeeper whom even Jemi 
 ma Lane, herself a marvel of cleanliness, declared 
 " pernickety." Fifty years ago niceness had not 
 summoned to its aid the present fear of disease. 
 " Dirt is healthy " was a common belief, and Phe s 
 repugnance was not on the score of hygiene when 
 she saw she was to dip her spoon into the pan of 
 suppawn from which old Jacob ate greedily. But 
 by disposition and training she was too fastidious 
 for appetite under these conditions, and only a 
 tender heart, that could not by fending for itself 
 pain others, forced her to swallow some portion of 
 the mush. Old Jacob gulped down his food with 
 voracity. Simple as were his tastes, they did not 
 always require such fare. His demand for it had 
 been but one more manifestation of his power, a 
 defiant endeavor toward the ease he was far from 
 feeling. Uncomfortable in the distress of his 
 family and disposed to punish them for the annoy 
 ance, between his noisy mouthfuls he grunted in 
 Phe s direction, 
 
OLD JACOB AT HOME 59 
 
 " Dr. Colton s an Uprenter, ain t he ? " 
 
 " Don t you know he is ? " returned the girl. 
 
 Her clear, quiet tone, her dignity of resentment, 
 awed the uncouth man. " I ve heard folks say 
 so," he replied in a less abusive manner, " but you 
 can t believe all you hear." 
 
 Phoebe brushed aside this platitude. Matt, who 
 had opened his lips to an angry retort, closed them 
 again. She could take care of herself, and was 
 much better left alone. 
 
 " I can t believe any one," Phe persisted, " is in 
 doubt as to my father s opinions. He is a brave 
 man, and speaks them even when he is threatened 
 with violence for not holding the popular belief." 
 
 Her voice shook. The apprehension under which 
 they had lived for the past few weeks told on 
 her, and, very womanlike, even though she were 
 partaking of their bounty, Phe made these Down- 
 renters pay something in atonement for her suffer 
 ing. Matt held his head haughtily. His father 
 grinned. 
 
 " Gimme some sugar V milk," said he, ignoring 
 the innuendo. 
 
 Gitty looked sulkier than ever. She pushed 
 back her chair, disappeared into the buttery, and 
 soon emerged, bearing a wooden bowl of clotted 
 milk. It was sprinkled thickly with shavings of 
 maple sugar ; and with it Gitty set on the bare 
 white table another dish with an additional supply 
 of the sugar. She then resumed her seat, down 
 cast and sullen. What would Phe Colton think 
 of such a way of living ? 
 
60 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 Phoebe certainly was not disposed to plunge her 
 spoon once more into the common food. Yet she 
 followed the example set her, taking up with each 
 portion a very little thickened milk, and add 
 ing sweetening liberally as it disappeared. Old 
 Jacob still ate heartily. Gitty and Matt made no 
 further pretense, and Mrs. Hager and their guest 
 did not affect the gusto of the head of the house. 
 Even his enjoyment, real or fictitious, presently 
 ceased. Scraping his chair over the uncarpeted 
 floor, he left the table without a word and strode 
 across the room. From the chimney-corner he 
 called, addressing no one by name, 
 
 " Come here an set awhile by the fire." 
 
 " Go on," Gitty whispered to Phe. 
 
 There is no conceit so revolting as that of a boor 
 who deems his attention, because it is fickle, a pre 
 cious gift. Phe understood that the coarse old 
 man was extending to her his notions of hospital 
 ity. She wished to reject what was so rudely pre 
 sented, and yet her innate kindness was reinforced 
 by the imploring faces around her. She followed 
 her host, seating herself by the smouldering embers 
 which, on that June evening, gave out but a plea 
 sant heat in the dreary north room. 
 
 " What an immense fireplace ! " she exclaimed 
 at random, thinking she must contribute to the 
 conversation. 
 
 Matt was lifting the suppawn kettle from its 
 crane. " Is n t it ? " said he, smiling brightly as he 
 knelt on the hearth. " It holds a four-foot back 
 log and a quarter cord of wood. You must visit 
 
OLD JACOB AT HOME 61 
 
 us on a winter night and see how we manage to 
 keep warm." 
 
 Phe blushed in receiving this invitation, al 
 though not more deeply than Matt in extending it. 
 "Thank you," she answered, " I should like to." 
 
 Perhaps it was absurd so Matt concluded 
 to expect his father to show for his part more civil 
 ity than a not unamiable grunt over his pipe. Yet 
 everything depended upon his fancy for this girl. 
 The young man told himself passionately that his 
 own future happiness hung upon the impression 
 Phe Colton made on one willfully perverse. So far, 
 and on the whole, it was undoubtedly favorable. 
 To Phe, but dimly appreciating his motive, there 
 was something piteous in his propitiatory manner. 
 
 "Father s father built this house," said Matt, 
 rising with the swaying kettle in his hand. " It s 
 got the best timbers of any of the old places 
 round about. Has n t it, father ? " 
 
 Very few of us can resist the temptation to 
 talk about ourselves. " I guess so," old Jacob re 
 sponded. " It ought to have. There was good 
 work put into the frame " (he moved his head by 
 an inch or two in Phe s direction). " I quit 
 home," he went on, " fore I was as old as Matt. 
 My brothers did, too. We all went off and left 
 the old folks ; but I come back again. My father 
 he cut a silver dollar into four quarters, and give 
 one to each of his boys. There was four boys. 
 We was to bring it when he died, and show it for 
 our share the property ; and we all done it." 
 
 " What a pretty way of making a will ! " said 
 Phe. 
 
62 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 Gitty and her mother had quickly set their 
 household affairs in order. They now came for 
 ward to take their seats about the fire. 
 
 "Things were different then," old Jacob con 
 tinued. " I never wore a hat till I was nine years 
 old. No more did my brothers. My father was 
 county judge, too ; but he was poor. We never 
 had more n one pair o shoes a year, and them we 
 wore a-Sunday. Week days we went barefoot. 
 That was the way we was brought up." 
 
 For the first time Phe heard the voice of her 
 hostess. Youthful reminiscences, with a new lis 
 tener, were so fascinating as to overcome even Mrs. 
 Hager s timidity. 
 
 " I remember," she ventured in a quavering 
 tone, " how I used to carry my shoes to town on 
 the Sabbath, and sit down on a log o wood, just 
 outside the village, and put em on, real well. My 
 father did n t wear stockings, nor yet my brothers, 
 and we were well-to-do at our house too." 
 
 These revelations caused Gitty to move uneasily 
 on her chair. Matt was more closely concerned in 
 preserving his father s good humor and noting the 
 frown with which Mrs. Hager s interruption was 
 received. The instant her weak voice ceased old 
 Jacob took up his story, a little hurriedly, al 
 though otherwise not heeding his wife s remarks. 
 
 "Our shoes was tanned at home. We had a 
 big trough out there in the yard," jerking his head 
 to indicate the direction. " It was filled with oak 
 and hemlock bark pounded up. There was just 
 water enough to cover the hides. We boys used 
 
OLD JACOB AT HOME 63 
 
 to soak our feet in that water every night. It 
 healed em and hardened em." 
 
 No home training, no goodness of heart, could 
 have quite concealed Phe s disgust with these 
 squalid details. But her affection for Matt Hager 
 could cover even his father s stories. 
 
 " And so you inherited the homestead, Mr. 
 Hager," she observed, striving to divert the tide 
 of remembrance into another channel. 
 
 There, at least, she succeeded. While Maria 
 Hager and her children gave too late a cry of 
 expostulation, old Jacob sprang upright from his 
 lounging posture. 
 
 " Inherit ? " he repeated scornfully. " Not an 
 acre, and you know it. All you Uprenters know 
 it. What you re preaching is that I ought o 
 grin an bear it. Don t talk to me about inher 
 iting the homestead when the patroon claims every 
 inch I plough." 
 
 Phe had grown pale under the sudden outbreak. 
 Gitty s eyes, Matt s eyes, implored her, but she 
 could not keep silence. 
 
 " I beg your pardon," she answered. " You are 
 right to reprove my thoughtlessness. We are so 
 new to Farley that I sometimes forget the condi 
 tions here." 
 
 Matt began an irrelevant sentence which his 
 father thrust aside. The rent grievances, never far 
 from his mind, had been so violently hurled into 
 it as to do irreparable damage. " I suppose your 
 father forgits sometimes," he sneered, " so t he 
 pays his rent to the agent whenever it comes due." 
 
64 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 Phoebe rose. " It lias n t come clue yet." 
 
 " Don t ye dodge. He will pay it when it does ? " 
 
 " He is an Uprenter," Phe answered coldly. " I 
 have told you that." 
 
 " Don t ye dodge. Is he goin to pay his rent ? 
 That s what I ask ye." 
 
 " Some Anti-renters, Phe," Mathice interposed 
 in an urgent tone, " see the wisdom on pay-day of 
 siding with their neighbors." 
 
 Still his gaze besought her, and still truth to her 
 father urged her on. 
 
 " We are not that sort," she said. " What we 
 Coltons believe, we stand by. Good-night, Mrs. 
 Hager," holding out her hand, " I must be going. 
 Thank you for your kindness. Good-night, Mr. 
 Hager. Good-night, Gitty." 
 
 " Come get your bonnet," replied the other girl. 
 
 Old Jacob had not spoken. 
 
 Mrs. Hager followed them in trembling haste 
 into the best room, leaving the two men together. 
 Mathice took his hat from its nail. He was silent, 
 his mouth firmly set. Abruptly Jacob pulled him 
 self up in his chair. Bringing his clinched fist 
 down in a blow upon his thigh, he spoke. 
 
 " There don t no more Uprenters ever cross that 
 threshold again. D ye hear ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Matt. 
 
 " Nor you don t go to them, you and Gitty. I 11 
 see to that. You can take the girl home to-night, 
 but there s the end. We don t have nothin more 
 to do with Uprenters, nor they don t have nothin 
 more to do with us. I 11 see to that," he repeated. 
 
CHAPTER VII 
 
 THE PARTING OF THE WAYS 
 
 " This is this to thee, and that to me." 
 
 THE two young people walked along the country 
 road, in a silence of bitter abstraction on Matt s 
 part, of embarrassment on Phe s. This was the 
 first time in the girl s experience that a young man 
 had acted as her escort. The courtesy was mag 
 nified, in that time and place, into " seeing one 
 home," which generally and further implied " keep 
 ing company." She felt conscious, as if the wayside 
 weeds in the angles of the rail fence were full of 
 eyes prying upon the situation. 
 
 Mathice was too heavy-hearted for awkwardness. 
 His father s prejudice had set the seal so he 
 told himself upon every hope, for they now be 
 gan and ended in Phe Colton. He never dreamed 
 of defiance. The instinct of obedience, rather than 
 a definite fear of a will that had inexorably 
 wielded his life so far, forced him to surrender 
 all to those hard hands for the future as in the 
 past. 
 
 After a little his moodiness became apparent to 
 Phe as he stalked beside her, switching off the 
 heads of straggling daisies with the stick he flour- 
 
66 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 ished. She supposed the cause for this ill-humor 
 to lie in the gross manners of old Jacob, to whose 
 vulgarity she likewise attributed that rough be 
 havior at the close of her visit, attaching no fur 
 ther importance to it. From a pure impulse of 
 comfort she suddenly exclaimed, 
 
 " What self-sacrificing lives our forefathers led, 
 Matt ! I never appreciated it so fully as when 
 your father and mother were talking to-night.." 
 
 " Our forefathers ! " Mathice repeated in a sort 
 of scornful tenderness. " That is like you to 
 make it pleasanter for me by setting yourself on 
 the same level. But you know, and I know, that 
 your stock was different. It is now, and it was 
 then. You re not made I can t put it in the 
 right words, but you re not made of the same kind 
 of clay." 
 
 " That s ridiculous," said Phoebe. 
 
 " No, it is n t. It s sense. Why, my mother s 
 grandfather did you ever hear how he began ? 
 They went to housekeeping in a one-room log 
 cabin, with a maple stump in the middle of the 
 floor. They made that into a table. Gran ther 
 Baldwin smoothed the top with his axe, and hacked 
 out the sides so that he and his wife could draw up 
 to it. He scooped a hollow like a butter-bowl in 
 the centre and two little hollows opposite. They 
 ate .from those, and used the big one for a dish. 
 They had Indian pudding for breakfast, and pota 
 toes for dinner, and pudding and potatoes at night. 
 Whenever a child was born gran ther cut out an 
 other hollow in the stump. By and by there were 
 
THE PARTING OF THE WAYS 67 
 
 thirteen. Then they built a new house, and there 
 was a movable table. The younger ones never ate 
 off the stump, but they all remembered hearing 
 about it. There were seventeen children." 
 
 Mathice in his turn had often listened to tales 
 of these hardships recounted as a source of pride. 
 He was repeating them now in a stern tone, almost 
 of accusation. 
 
 " My grandfather and grandmother Hager," he 
 continued, " when they were married, owned be 
 tween them nothing but an axe, a bake-kettle, and 
 a bed. Whatever else they wanted they had to 
 make." 
 
 Phe s eyes met his in the soft summer dusk. 
 " How splendid ! " she murmured. 
 
 " Splendid ? Don t you see the meanness and 
 the poorness of it ? " 
 
 " I don t see anything but that it was fine for a 
 man and a woman to be everything to each other," 
 - Phe s voice quavered, and yet it was resolute, 
 " and to do everything for themselves. That seems 
 like literally beginning the world, forming it, bit 
 by bit, as they went on. I envy them, Matt." 
 
 The very height of her spirit, the sentiment 
 alien to his prosaic experience, made him feel the 
 more hopelessly a clodhopper beside her. It 
 choked his speech, and he could only stammer, 
 
 " You re the best girl in the world ! To think 
 of your looking at it all like that ! " 
 
 " I don t see any other way of looking at it," 
 Phe replied rather coldly. She was already some 
 what ashamed of her enthusiasm. Mathice might 
 
68 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 consider it forward unmaidenly. Her cheeks 
 burned at the suspicion. 
 
 " Where are we ? " she demanded, to turn the 
 subject. " I never came into Farley from this 
 direction." 
 
 " It s the road over the hill from our farm," 
 Matt answered, thrusting out a timid hand to help 
 her in its descent. He failed to add that it was 
 the longest way between her home and his, and for 
 that reason he had chosen it. " We are just be 
 hind the Episcopal church. You will see it in a 
 minute." 
 
 He nodded towards where now came into view 
 a small square structure, standing out white against 
 the trees. The long windows were darkened by 
 green Venetian blinds over their clear glass. 
 Broad wooden steps, ascending to an unrailed 
 platform at the front, conducted one to the double 
 doors. Over these was a shuttered belfry crowned 
 by a weather-vane holding high an iron cross. 
 
 Matt, as well as the girl, was nervous and wished 
 to lead their talk into new fields. " See that," 
 said he, pointing to the sacred emblem, " they re 
 just like Catholics." 
 
 " How do you mean like Catholics ? " 
 
 There was a touch of amusement in the query 
 that might have caused a more astute observer to 
 weigh his words. Matt, unheeding, plunged reck 
 lessly into another topic of conversation. 
 
 "You just ought to see how they go on at 
 Christmas time. They stick up cedar everywhere, 
 and they have a cross in the pulpit. They read 
 
THE PARTING OF THE WAYS 69 
 
 their prayers out of a book, and their dominie 
 wears a thing like a nightgown " 
 
 Here Matt paused. A burning flush rose to his 
 forehead. He should not have spoken about 
 nightgowns to Phe Colton. " It shows my bring 
 ing up," he told himself angrily. 
 
 Phe laughed outright. There was a teasing light 
 in her eyes. " But they behave like Catholics," 
 said she, " because they are Catholics Anglican, 
 of course. I m an Episcopalian myself." 
 
 " You ! " Matt ejaculated weakly. 
 
 " Why, yes. What did you suppose ? You 
 saw I did n t come to your church." 
 
 " I thought," his tone had a coaxing cadence, 
 as if he hoped to persuade her to own that she was 
 jesting, "I always thought you were a Presby 
 terian." 
 
 " No," said Phe sweetly. " We re all Episco 
 palians." 
 
 Matt was silent. This last discovery but served 
 to broaden the gulf between them that for the first 
 time, to-night, he had seen was how wide and how 
 deep. Phoebe enjoyed shocking him a little, 
 while she resented his silence. It implied that he 
 was shocked too much. 
 
 " You behave," she declared, " as if I had con 
 fessed to being a cannibal. Why, Almiran Sweet 
 goes to the Episcopal Church. He sings in the 
 choir." 
 
 " Oh, yes. His father s vestryman." A jealous 
 pang darted through Matt s sore heart. " That s 
 all stuff and nonsense about the cannibals. Do 
 you sing in the choir ? " 
 
70 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " No," was Phoebe s demure reply. " But Allie 
 does. He has the sweetest little voice ! Some 
 times Almiran comes over to our house, during the 
 week, to try the hymns together with him." 
 
 Thus she sought vengeance for Matt s reception 
 of her religious belief. He wondered as a second 
 thought his first being for himself if Gitty 
 knew. Of course she knew. It was because she 
 was too deeply wounded for comment that she had 
 never told her brother Phe Colton was an Episco 
 palian. The weekly " meeting " was a well recog 
 nized ground for the promotion of love-affairs. 
 Gitty had always regarded it as a cross that Al 
 miran and she should miss each other on Sunday. 
 Of late her feeling had been fiercer than sorrow. 
 She tried to smother it with silence, but the fire 
 would not die down. 
 
 Again constraint seized upon Matt and Phoebe, 
 and before either could make an effort to break 
 through it, the pit-pat of a child s running feet 
 came toward them down the road. 
 
 " Phe, is that you ? " called her brother s voice, 
 
 " Yes, dear." 
 
 " Oh, I m so glad. We ve been looking for 
 you. Mother was kind of frightened." 
 
 He drew close, throwing both his arms around 
 her in a boisterous embrace. " Where have you 
 been ? " he asked. " Is that Matt Hager ? " 
 
 " I ve been at Gitty s to tea," said Phoebe. " I 
 supposed mother would understand when I did n t 
 come home. Is father there ? " 
 
 Matt caught the strain of terror in the ques- 
 
THE PARTING OF THE WAYS 71 
 
 tion, and he felt like a brute indeed. He compre 
 hended with what reason she feared for the doc 
 tor s safety. 
 
 " Yes, he s all right," the little boy assured her. 
 " But Jemima s as mad as she can be. She says 
 Henry Fisher is up to mischief." 
 
 " What s that ? " Matt inquired, roughly break 
 ing into the conversation. " How could Henry get 
 into mischief ? " 
 
 "We haven t found out yet," the child an 
 swered. " That s what s the matter. Jemima 
 told father he did n t half do his chores, and then 
 he went off, fast as he could, somewhere on the 
 sly. Father said it was very queer. And I tell 
 you Jemima s mad." 
 
 Phrebe kept her arm around her brother, turn 
 ing him gently to walk with her in the road. For 
 an instant she did not speak, an instant in which 
 she was considering Matt s question of Allie, and 
 his manner, and fitting them to the news of Henry s 
 disappearance. 
 
 " I think," she said presently, " that we shan t 
 need your escort any longer, Mathice. I have 
 Allie, and he has me. We can take care of each 
 other, the rest of the way home. Thank you for 
 coming this far with me." 
 
 The gulf seemed in Matt s fancy to stretch out 
 between them to measureless leagues and leagues. 
 He stood here alone, and Phrebe was hopelessly 
 far away. 
 
 " But I don t want to leave you," he stammered. 
 " I would rather go on." 
 
72 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " I think not," the girl contradicted in slow de 
 liberation. " I think you have an engagement, 
 have you not ? Possibly it is with Henry Fisher." 
 
 "Phe! Don t judge me like that. Will you 
 listen " - 
 
 "No, Mathice. I would rather not listen to 
 anything." 
 
 Because the words hurt her so cruelly in their 
 utterance, she could make him suffer too. He 
 turned on his heel, proud and angry, and she went 
 her way with the child. There was nothing more 
 said between them. 
 
 No sooner was she out of sight than Matt struck 
 off " cross lots " for the schoolhouse. He was 
 striding sullenly along, still slashing at the nod 
 ding weeds, when by the stone wall that bounded 
 Sweets s sugar-bush he came upon Almiran. 
 
 " Helloa," called the latter in manifest confu 
 sion. " Is that you, Matt ? I did n t see you in 
 the dark. Where you going ? " 
 
 " Where am I going ? " Matt repeated with 
 surly emphasis. " To the schoolhouse, of course. 
 Are n t you ? " 
 
 For he could see that his friend s face was set 
 in the direction of the Colton place. 
 
 Almiran stood very still. One hand crept into 
 a pocket and drew out his knife. He opened it, 
 groping about till he discovered a bit of wood on 
 the ground. As soon as he began to whittle he 
 found his tongue. 
 
 " I ain t going to the schoolhouse," said he 
 slowly. 
 
THE PARTING OF THE WAYS 73 
 
 Matt was careful in his speech, the more for 
 shame at the slovenliness of his father s language 
 and of late by reason of Phe s correctness. In his 
 surprise, he fell back upon old usage. 
 
 " You ain t ? " he repeated incredulously. " Why 
 ain t you ? " 
 
 " I don t believe I 11 go to any more meetings," 
 Almiran answered doggedly. " That s why." 
 
 "No, it ain t why, neither," Matt persisted. 
 " What ever put such a notion into your head ? Of 
 course you 11 go." 
 
 " No, I guess not," Almiran continued. " I 
 guess I won t go any more." 
 
 " What on earth s the reason ? Maybe you ve 
 turned Uprenter." 
 
 He laughed at the notion. 
 
 "Yes," Almiran assented. "I have." 
 
 Surely one of the blessings in a higher state of 
 existence will be that of expression. In this life 
 we are baffled, at every turn, by the inadequacy 
 of speech. Matt glared at his companion, setting 
 his jaws together, but not a word came from him. 
 There were no words for this. 
 
 At last, " You re a traitor, then ? " he hissed. 
 
 " That s what you call it," Almiran answered, 
 cutting his fingers as well as his stick. " I call it, 
 coming to my senses. It amounts to the same 
 thing." 
 
 " And who brought you to your senses ? " sneered 
 Mathice. " Not your father. I m sure of that." 
 
 The other whitened at the taunt, though he 
 stood to his point. 
 
74 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " No," he conceded. " Pa is as good a Down- 
 renter as ever he was. He ain t heard yet that I 
 was wavering." 
 
 " I pity you when he does," with a short laugh. 
 " Who turned you, then ? Tell me that." 
 
 " None o your business. I shan t tell." 
 
 A swift conviction seized upon Matt s mind and 
 shook it. " You need n t say anything more. I ve 
 guessed. It was Dr. Colton." 
 
 Almiran made no answer. 
 
 A woman would have been too timid to push the 
 question. For a man anything is preferred before 
 suspense. 
 
 " Was it Dr. Colton ? " Matt demanded hoarsely. 
 
 Almiran dropped his stick and closed his knife. 
 The second s pause seemed interminable. 
 
 " Yes," said he, " him and his family." 
 
 There followed a silence so intense that each 
 could hear the other breathe. 
 
 " Matt," clamored Almiran frantically, unable 
 to endure that punishment, " what you goin to 
 do? You goin to fight me?" 
 
 " Fight you ? " with a deep-chested cry of scorn. 
 " I would n t touch a sneak like you with the tips 
 of my fingers. To sell your principles for for a 
 girl!" 
 
 Almiran had been led all his life by Matt. He 
 had followed the other in his enrollment among 
 the Indians, and he felt guilt as well as shame in 
 deserting him, at least. He strove to hold Ma- 
 thice s attention, standing in his path. 
 
 "I tell you I done it because it was right," he 
 
THE PARTING OF THE WAYS 75 
 
 urged passionately. "Matt, won t you believe 
 me ? I wish you d listen. The doctor could con 
 vince you too." 
 
 " No, he could n t," Mathice retorted at a white 
 heat of rage. " I am not to be bought nor bribed. 
 Don t judge the whole world by yourself. There 
 are some honest men left in it." 
 
 He placed both hands on the wall, vaulted it, 
 and plunged down the bank on the other side. 
 Almiran stood for a moment gazing after him 
 wistfully. At length he too turned and, his head 
 hanging like the craven he had been unjustly 
 called, he went his way to the doctor s house. 
 
 To Mathice, hurrying on in apparent self-suffi 
 ciency, to keep his appointment and bear his 
 promised part among the conspirators, that old im 
 agery presented itself yet again to his conscious 
 ness. The gulf was impassable, and it divided 
 him now from his oldest friend. Almiran stood 
 by Phrebe on the farther shore. 
 
CHAPTER VIII 
 
 A KETTLE OF TAB 
 
 A wisdom so tenderly and so precisely circumspect is a mor- 
 tall enemie to haughty execution. MONTAIGNE. 
 
 As Matt neared the schoolhouse, its lights and 
 the hum of conversation told him that the Indians 
 had assembled. Under the trees close by were tied 
 some dozen horses in their ridiculous disguise. He 
 stood on the step for a moment of hesitation, dis 
 gust at this folly, hatred of participation waxing 
 in his heart. Like most of the frolickers, he had 
 been drawn into their schemes from sheer animal 
 spirits, a craving for excitement that found no 
 legitimate outlet in the dull life of a farm. A 
 majority of the Indians were mere boys, but there 
 remained a few leaders, who believed they fought 
 for their rights, and who fought savagely, en 
 couraging their ranks in revolt. 
 
 Naturally Almiran s secession forced Matt to 
 reflect. Although it made him despise any notion 
 of withdrawal, although it intensified his natural 
 obstinacy into the clinging to a position because it 
 had been once held, he could but long, in his youth 
 ful loneliness, to side with Phe and her father, 
 and he could but loathe himself as he recalled the 
 girl s contempt when she guessed that he or his 
 
A KETTLE OF TAR 77 
 
 comrades had coaxed Henry Fisher to join their 
 band. 
 
 He heard Henry s high-pitched, agitated voice 
 inside the schoolroom. He felt, with the memory 
 of Phe Colton s indignant eyes before him, that he 
 could not enter the building and engage at Henry s 
 side in some new piece of nonsense. He hated the 
 enterprise ; he hated the Indians and his part 
 among them. As he lingered on the doorstep, 
 between the noisy room and the silent night, the 
 fact that his old friend had deserted the Down- 
 renters seemed the only reason why he should 
 hold to them. 
 
 At that instant of indecision, something occurred 
 to fix his wavering allegiance. Demosthenes Mix 
 came riding down the road on his way home from 
 Farley. He pulled up his horse sharply as he 
 spied the lighted window of the schoolhouse, and 
 the blanketed horses under the trees. Matt fell 
 back into the shadow of the doorway, annoyed 
 that he should have waited here till he encoun 
 tered the patronizing platitudes of Mossy Mix. 
 
 But the young lawyer detected the noticeable 
 figure on the threshold. 
 
 " Is that you, Mathice ? " he asked softly. 
 
 " Yes," in a sullen growl. 
 
 " My boy," said Demosthenes (he was three 
 years older than Matt), " I cannot tell you how 
 deeply I regret to see you in such company." 
 
 " You have sharp eyes," was Matt s careless re 
 joinder. " I imagined I was alone." 
 
 " Don t bandy words with me. You understand 
 
78 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 perfectly to what I refer. Mathice, this condition 
 of things cannot continue. You and your mates 
 are imperiling the cause, defying the law and run 
 ning daily into danger. In an unguarded hour, 
 some one may go farther than he realizes, and 
 work irreparable disaster. I warn you for your 
 own good. We, who are the men of sober judg 
 ment in this agitation, cannot sympathize with all 
 that must hinder and not help the Anti-rent ques 
 tion. You harm us, you harm yourselves, and what 
 the end may be we shudder to contemplate." 
 
 Through the pretentious periods Matt saw how 
 the speaker s heart was torn between family tradi 
 tions and the maintenance of his professional re 
 spectability. Demosthenes was pleading, in such 
 terms as were alone possible to him, for his brother, 
 whose share in the uprising he dared not name. 
 Omar was only a boy, led, as these two understood, 
 into the movement more by Matt Hager s influence 
 than by the home teachings of his father. The 
 truth in Demosthenes s exhortation sharpened its 
 sting. It roused all Matt s stubbornness, and pro 
 duced a vehemence which was more than honest. 
 
 " I guess you might better jog along home, 
 Mossy," he replied, his fingers on the latch. "All 
 you say can t move me, and I don t suppose you 
 want to harangue the crowd. Do you ? " 
 
 " I have no desire to harangue any one," was the 
 rejoinder, " although I feel it my duty to inform 
 them or them through you that Tobias Sny- 
 der is on the watch for you Indians to-night ; thus 
 much I learned in town." 
 
A KETTLE OF TAR 79 
 
 " Then that settles it," declared Matt teasingly. 
 " We must go, if for nothing else, to have a row 
 with the deputy. But, Mossy, might n t it be un 
 pleasant if the fellows were to catch you here? 
 You ve scolded us too often to be exactly popular, 
 remember. And I hear them moving about inside. 
 I think they re coming out." 
 
 He held the door. He honestly wished to pre 
 vent an encounter between the little lawyer and the 
 roystering Indians. Demosthenes saw the situa 
 tion no less quickly than completely. Giving his 
 horse a cut with his whip, he called, " Git ap," 
 even Mossy Mix could not rise above the current 
 encouragement to speed, and disappeared into 
 the woody road at a mad gallop. Matt raised an 
 ejaculatory laugh, releasing his hold on the door. 
 
 Forthwith out tumbled a score of men, disguised 
 and giggling through their masks. Henry Fisher, 
 wearing his new suit with pride, was foremost 
 among them. 
 
 " Oh, here you are! " several voices saluted Matt, 
 not forgetting, however, their affected tones, nor 
 calling him by name. " We were wondering what 
 had become of you. Get into your things as fast 
 as you can. There s fun ahead to-night." 
 
 Matt sauntered over to a hollow pine-tree, and 
 stretched one arm down into its depths. 
 
 " What kind of fun ? " he inquired, while he was 
 fishing out his blouse. 
 
 Henry gave an important titter. Davit Finck, 
 the leader, shook his head at some one who began 
 to speak. 
 
80 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " That s all right," said he. " You 11 find out 
 in good time. What you got to do now is to git 
 ready and come along o us." 
 
 Matt felt uneasy. He did not like Henry s fool 
 ish mirth, nor this new reticence. " Big Thunder," 
 said he aside to Davit, while he hurriedly dressed 
 himself, " have you heard that Tobe Snyder was 
 going to be out to-night? " 
 
 " Tobe Snyder is always out," was the brusque 
 response. " You need n t try to frighten us off. 
 We re bound to go." 
 
 " I had no notion of frightening you. But " 
 
 " Shut up, I say. You re kind of apt to forget 
 who s bossing these Injuns. I let you know I am. 
 And we re bound to go, Tobe Snyder or no Tobe 
 Snyder." 
 
 Davit Finck lifted his falsetto voice. " Come on, 
 boys. Follow your leader. Are you ready ? " 
 
 There was a general response. Those who owned 
 horses brought them forth and mounted them, ex 
 changing one for another in further concealment of 
 their identity. Matt sought out Omar Mix for a 
 companion among the footmen. 
 
 " What s up ? " he asked, attempting an unin 
 terested manner. " Did a horn blow ? " 
 
 " Nope." 
 
 " Any house to be visited ? " 
 
 " Nope." . 
 
 " There is n t ? Not anybody to be threatened ? " 
 
 " No, I tell you. Keep still." 
 
 He perceived that, for some reason, the boy had 
 been warned not to enlighten him concerning this 
 
A KETTLE OF TAR 81 
 
 excursion. His vague fears grew real and great. 
 He set his jaw doggedly. One powerful hand 
 reached out and seized the other s arm. Matt 
 gripped it fast. 
 
 " "Where are we going? " he whispered. 
 
 " Oh, Matt, stop ! You hurt." 
 
 " I mean to hurt. Where are we going ? " 
 
 " Stop, I tell you. I 11 call out." 
 
 " Not much you won t ; or you 11 pay for it af 
 terwards. Where are we going ? " 
 
 Omar stood still. So did Matt. The others 
 swept on in advance. 
 
 " Where are we going ? " 
 
 " Confound you ! I never saw such a fellow. 
 If you must know, we re on the lookout for Dr. 
 Colton." 
 
 Matt ground an exclamation between his teeth. 
 
 " It seems," began Omar, with volubility, once 
 the secret had been wrested from him, " Big Thun 
 der s worked up over what Phoebe done did you 
 hear ? this afternoon, when we had Job Ecker 
 in Sweetses Woods. And then the doctor, he 
 got wind, some way or other, that You-know-who 
 had joined. You-know-who thinks twas that 
 servant girl o his n told the doctor. Anyways, to 
 night he give him a regular talkin -to ; called him 
 all kind o names. It was as much as he could do 
 to slip away from em there Jemimy and Allie 
 and the rest so as he could git down to the 
 schoolhouse in time. You never see such works." 
 
 " The hound ! " muttered Mathice. " So he s 
 set Big Thunder up to this." 
 
82 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Well, you see," Omar replied, with a grin, 
 " Big Thunder s been ready, any time since the 
 doctor sassed him about his dinner horn. Put 
 Sweetses Woods, this afternoon, on top o that, 
 and it didn t take much urgin . Besides, you 
 was n t at the schoolhouse " 
 
 " No," said Matt grimly, " I was n t." 
 
 After a slight pause, he inquired, " Where is 
 this precious caper going to be cut ? " 
 
 Again Omar grinned slyly under his sheepskin 
 mask. He was repaid for that iron clasp on his 
 arm. 
 
 " You-know-who says the doctor s going to 
 the Mayham place this evening. It seems the 
 Squire s kind of under the weather. He 11 have 
 to cross Broomstick Hill, and that s where we re 
 goin to wait for him." 
 
 " Well, what then ? " 
 
 " Did n t you see White Cloud was carryin a 
 kittle ? Some of the other fellows have got the tar." 
 
 Omar laughed outright. He was by no means 
 brutal, and he liked Dr. Colton. But to his slug 
 gish soul, in a monotonous existence, there was a 
 delicious freedom in these adventures of mystery 
 and daring flattered by their clothing of fine names. 
 
 Matt paid no further attention to him. He 
 was revolving in his mind every bearing of the 
 situation, and asking himself what could be done. 
 Matters had progressed too far for argument 
 or entreaty ; so his interview with Davit Finck 
 convinced him. Resistance would be one man to 
 twenty. In circumvention lay the only hope ; and 
 
A KETTLE OF TAR 83 
 
 what, on the spur of the moment, could he invent ? 
 He was not quick-witted, nor one of those rare per 
 sons who act most wisely upon a sudden stimulus. 
 He was bewildered, and yet never for one second 
 did he yield. With no notion of what should be 
 done, " They sha n t tar and feather Dr. Colton," 
 he decided. 
 
 A dozen schemes presented themselves, to be one 
 after another rejected. Time was pressing. Pos 
 sibly, on the whole, the simplest plan was the 
 best. 
 
 Omar and he had fallen several rods behind the 
 last of those who walked. The thud of the horses 
 feet would hide some sound and the dark night 
 conceal some movement. Matt untied his own sash, 
 and whipping a handkerchief from beneath his 
 blouse, passed it with a dexterous motion over his 
 companion s face, binding it across the mouth. He 
 then held the struggling and astonished boy with 
 one arm while with the other he proceeded to bind 
 the sash about Omar s legs, hobbling him. He 
 lifted him over the stone wall at the roadside, drop 
 ping him into the field beyond. He followed, and 
 crouching double, ran in the direction of Broom 
 stick Hill. 
 
 Dr. Colton was driving through the restful quiet 
 of the night, thinking of the patient to whom he 
 was going, thinking of Henry Fisher and of Je 
 mima s distress underneath her anger, thinking of 
 many things besides the peril in which he stood. A 
 figure loomed up at his horse s head and brought 
 Sam to a standstill. 
 
84 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Who is that ? " asked the doctor sharply. 
 
 No one answered. 
 
 " Let go my horse. What do you mean ? Let 
 me pass, I say." 
 
 He pulled imperatively at the reins. But the 
 threatening form kept a firm clasp on the headstall 
 while creeping nearer to him. The doctor could 
 see that it wore the dress of an Indian. 
 
 " Hush," Matt cautioned in an undertone. 
 " Don t stop to talk. And get out of that wagon." 
 
 The doctor stared at him in impotent anger. 
 
 " Get out," Matt insisted in the same low voice. 
 " I m a friend. You can trust me. Get out, I 
 tell you quick." 
 
 For some reason his manner was more convin 
 cing than his curt assertion. The doctor rapidly 
 came to the conclusion that, while this might be a 
 trap, it was quite as probably a warning, and in 
 either case nothing could be gained by resistance. 
 He slid from the chaise. 
 
 Matt instantly seized him in his arms and pulled 
 him, half carrying, half leading, back among the 
 denser trees away from the road. He heard Sam 
 start on again at his steady gait, and the nearing 
 tread of other horses. He murmured a rapid sen 
 tence, pointing, as he spoke, to the east. 
 
 " Over there, straight as the crow flies, is your 
 house. Run ! " 
 
 He set the pace, striding off under the protec 
 tion afforded by the grove. He saw that his com 
 panion followed, and, after that reassuring glance, 
 did not look back again. The doctor saved his 
 
A KETTLE OF TAR 85 
 
 scant breath for a dash over the rough ground. 
 He ran at Matt s heels, nearer to terror than ever 
 before since his boyhood, yet thrilled and exhila 
 rated by the stir and the secrecy. At last, when 
 the foot of the long, steep slope had been reached, 
 when they came to a level field and could see the 
 chimneys of his home, he began to take fresh 
 courage. Pie paused at the bars of a pasture lot 
 to regard his guide more curiously. 
 
 " I am to thank you, I suppose," he remarked 
 in his dry, cool utterance, " but whom or for what 
 I am uncertain. Tell me, did this have anything 
 to do with the sheriff s men ? I passed them talk 
 ing to Demosthenes Mix just before you inter 
 cepted me. Are the Indians out ? " 
 
 Matt s panting breath came a little swifter for 
 the news of the ambuscade. " So they ve caught 
 poor Mossy," said he with a chuckle, " instead of 
 a band of law-breakers. Yes, doctor, the Indians 
 are out, that s certain." 
 
 " Well and then ? I wish to be properly 
 grateful. What have you done for me ? " 
 
 " Saved you from a pack of fools," was the 
 rough reply. " Good-night." 
 
 " Not so fast one moment ! And who is my 
 deliverer ? " 
 
 " Another fool. Good-night, I say." 
 
 He was gone in a moment more. 
 
CHAPTER IX 
 
 AT THE SAMP-MILL 
 A character is a completely fashioned will. J. S. MILL. 
 
 WHEN Matt Hager awakened on the following 
 morning to a gradual realization of what had 
 passed, it was to tell himself, in his blindness to 
 the future, that this was the unhappiest day of his 
 life, because it held no hope whatever. 
 
 His fellow conspirators would repudiate him for 
 his action on Broomstick Hill. Phe Colton was 
 lost to him, as were his two friends, Omar Mix 
 and Alrniran alike. Renters and Anti-renters 
 would unite in scorn over one whose convictions 
 were at war with his deeds. 
 
 He dressed himself, feeling tired and worn, as 
 if the day lay behind him rather than before. But 
 no sooner had he slipped down the bare stairs 
 from his attic room and let himself out into the 
 world beyond, than a peace came to him from the 
 exquisite summer dawn. He squared his shoul 
 ders, trudging along the footpath to the barn, with 
 the determination not to surrender thus cravenly. 
 He was still master of his fate. 
 
 Then, as Matt went about his work, groping 
 through the dusky stables and the silent yard, 
 there descended upon him a nervous horror. It 
 
AT THE SAMP-MILL 87 
 
 was born of his morbid thoughts and his sense of 
 isolation, and it grew on the eerie quiet of those 
 strange moments at daybreak. It assumed a form 
 most unfamiliar to the reckless young fellow, the 
 form of fear. 
 
 What if the Indians should fall upon him now, 
 for their revenge, while he was quite alone and un 
 protected ? They would seek vengeance that was 
 certain. When would it come ? It might be im 
 mediately. It might wait for weeks. Part of his 
 punishment might be deliberately planned as an 
 undying apprehension, a dread for each moment of 
 the day and night, and that for many days. His 
 tanned cheeks turned a sickly white. He grasped 
 the pitchfork more securely, glancing over one 
 shoulder and then the other. Was that a stealthy 
 step, or was it the trampling of a cow upon the 
 scattered straw ? He must be on his guard hence 
 forth, always. He must never forget, and imagine 
 he was safe. 
 
 Matt began to comprehend what he and his fel 
 lows had brought upon their victims by their 
 threats, their bravado and boasting. " And I have 
 more pluck than most men," he reflected. " I 
 wonder that some of them did n t die of fright. 
 I had no notion that it was like this." 
 
 He was glad to return to the house, not so 
 much for the security of numbers as that he was 
 soothed by the presence of human beings. Their 
 early breakfast was as usual a silent meal, but the 
 food, no less than the companionship, had its tonic 
 effect upon Matt s spirit. He rose from the table 
 
88 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 inclined to jeer at himself for a cry-baby in his 
 former attitude towards life. 
 
 Old Jacob shuffled off to the bedside to hunt for 
 his boots. 
 
 " Got to be corn ground," said he. " Git ready 
 to go to the samp-mill quick s you can." 
 
 The injunction was apparently thrown at ran 
 dom, but Matt caught it, aware that it was ad 
 dressed to him. 
 
 " All right," he answered. 
 
 He did not mean that it was all right, for the 
 road to the samp-mill was long and lonely, and 
 while he was leading Billy from his stall, the lurk 
 ing worry presented itself once more, here was 
 opportunity for the Indians revenge. A ride to 
 the nearer mill that which possessed a bolting- 
 cloth and a " sopus stone " was a lively diversion 
 for a bright morning. One jogged along a much- 
 frequented thoroughfare, to meet at its end neigh 
 bors bent on the like errand, who gossiped and 
 cracked jokes, waiting for their turn. An expedi 
 tion to the samp-mill was another thing. Matt 
 looked off across the fields to the lane that he 
 must take, and recalled its chances for misadven 
 ture. A spy might be hanging about now to watch 
 his movements, to warn the others that the hour 
 had come to strike. He experienced, not so much 
 terror, as a sense of utter loneliness. 
 
 From the stable yard he could see Almiran 
 Sweet at work in the cornfield. He could see 
 Gitty, with a pretense of an errand, sidling down 
 in that direction, carrying her pail for wild straw- 
 
AT THE SAMP-MILL 89 
 
 berries. He could see the two young people pre 
 sently approach each other at a convenient angle 
 of the rail fence dividing their fathers lands. Here 
 they settled themselves comfortably for a long- 
 drawn talk, leaning their weight on the bars be 
 tween them, the slat bonnet and the dilapidated 
 straw hat bent close together. 
 
 " Well, anyway, Gitty s happy," thought her 
 brother. 
 
 Almiran s turn had not yet come, Matt reflected, 
 as he swung himself to the horse s back. He could 
 fool away an hour with a girl, nor need to glance, 
 first over one shoulder, then over the other, for the 
 approach of vengeance. Evidently his desertion 
 remained so far unsuspected by the Anti-renters. 
 
 As he rode down the grassy lane to the turn 
 pike Matt heard a warning voice : " Hey, there, 
 stop. What you got in them bags ? " 
 
 He turned sidewise, checking Billy s slow pace. 
 Old Jacob was running after him. He stood still 
 in the way till his father came panting to the 
 horse s side. 
 
 " What you got in them bags ? " he repeated. 
 
 Matt glanced down at the saddlebags, wonder 
 ing what was amiss. 
 
 " Why, corn, of course," he said. 
 
 " Corn ? " Old Jacob punched one bulging 
 pouch, and went around Billy to examine the 
 other. " Corn in both of em ? Where are the 
 stuns ? " 
 
 Matt understood him now. As a child he had 
 been sent to the mill with the corn tied in one bag 
 
90 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 and stones filling the other to balance the weight. 
 In after years he continued to make this arrange 
 ment for himself mechanically, nor was it until a 
 comparatively recent day that the obvious better 
 method presented itself. He remembered for the 
 first time that as it chanced he had not mentioned 
 his device to his father. 
 
 " Why," he argued, " what s the use of the 
 stones ? I have half the corn in one bag and half 
 in the other, and Billy does n t carry any dead 
 weight at all." 
 
 Old Jacob brought his fist down in a blow upon 
 his thigh. "Put back them stuns," was his sole 
 commentary upon Matt s speech. " Are you so 
 much smarter than your father an your father s 
 father before you ? If you are, you re a darned 
 sight too smart. You get off that hoss an pick up 
 a bagful o stuns, an I 11 stan by an see you do 
 it." 
 
 He kept his word. Mathice, his fingers twitch 
 ing, his scornful face crimson with anger, poured 
 the corn into one bag, filled the other as directed, 
 and without a glance toward his tyrant, seated on 
 the fence, remounted, and galloped away. The 
 chuckle which pursued him roused a wild hatred 
 in his heart. 
 
 At least the episode had the effect of driving all 
 other considerations from his mind. He was ab 
 sorbed by the humiliation of his attitude a slave 
 to the caprice of a coarse-minded and ignorant 
 man. Their relationship seemed nothing to Matt. 
 He assured himself it was nothing ; that the time 
 
AT THE SAMP-MILL 91 
 
 came when parents must be judged, not as father 
 and mother, but as man and woman. He judged 
 Jacob Hager as he rode on to the mill. 
 
 A buckboard, rumbling in the narrow way be 
 hind him, at length attracted his attention. He 
 drew rein to speak to the driver. 
 
 " Do you want to pass ? " he called. 
 
 By this time he had seen that Henry Fisher was 
 perched in front. Both Phe and Allie Colton sat 
 on the long plank, holding each other up, and 
 laughing at the jolts of their unwieldy vehicle. 
 
 Matt s first thought was of the girl. What 
 would be her greeting ? It was a second, but no 
 slight consideration, how Henry should behave. 
 
 He appeared conscious, and refused to meet 
 Mathice s eyes. Nothing more was betrayed by 
 his manner, while his response was, 
 
 " Yes, lemme git by, will ye ? This is a good 
 place to turn." 
 
 Matt obediently drew his horse to the road 
 side, backing him down into the ditch. His gaze 
 was fixed meanwhile on Phoebe s face, whence it 
 never wavered. He was striving to read her ex 
 pression. She had nodded to accompany Allie s 
 voluble salutation. The little boy went on talking 
 at length, giving no one else a chance, Matt told 
 himself. But Phe looked kind. 
 
 The buckboard passed him, Phoebe almost 
 touching Billy, she was so near. Matt bent his 
 head and stared straight into the girl s eyes. They 
 met his steadily. She murmured, and now she 
 smiled, " How can I thank you for last night? " 
 
92 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " He did n t recognize me ! " Matt answered in 
 astonishment. 
 
 Phe raised her voice, glancing back as they 
 moved on. " He could guess, and I knew ! " 
 
 Matt straightened himself in his saddle, urging 
 Billy to a canter. He whistled as he rode. The 
 Indians might torture him. Henry Fisher might 
 be their agent to inform him of certain doom. But 
 Phcebe and he were friends. 
 
 As Matt approached the samp-mill, he saw be 
 fore him Allie and Phe slip from their rough seat 
 and run down the bank to the water s edge. Henry 
 drove on under the shelter of the shed to tie his 
 horse. It was there that Matt followed him. He 
 wished to hear the worst. He believed that it 
 could not be so bad nothing could be so bad 
 as the uncertainty from which he suffered. 
 
 But egotism is the strongest of all forces, and 
 Henry had his private affairs to consider, with no 
 room in his shallow brain for Matt as well. 
 
 " Say," he addressed the last comer, peering 
 around the horse s head, where he was tying a 
 rope. " Say, don t you tell on me, will ye ? Don t 
 ye let on to Phoebe an Allie where I was las 
 night." 
 
 Matt s lip curled as the significance of the 
 hoarse whisper, the frightened face, forced its way 
 through his own perplexities. " Maybe it s my 
 duty to tell," he answered curtly. " I have n t made 
 up my mind." 
 
 Henry s fingers trembled in their hold upon the 
 headstall. " No, t ain t your duty. What bus ness 
 
AT THE SAMP-MILL 93 
 
 is it o their n ? An they d be a tumble time if 
 it come out." 
 
 " I should think it was their business," the other 
 declared, " to find that they had a traitor under 
 their roof." 
 
 He forgot, in his agitation, the patent retort. 
 Apparently Henry, also, overlooked the fact that 
 he might say, " You are another." 
 
 " I ain t a traitor," he pleaded. " I would n t 
 go to hurt the doctor, no, nor none o his fam ly ; 
 not for ten dollars, I would n t do it." 
 
 " You were ready enough to help tar and feather 
 him last night," the merciless prosecutor persisted. 
 " I rather guess you would have found that tar 
 and feathers hurt." 
 
 His voice shook, his cheek blanched at the 
 thought those last words brought with them. The 
 Indians punishments meant, indeed, every suffer 
 ing, pain, indignity, perhaps death itself. 
 
 " Why, how you talk ! " exclaimed Henry. " "We 
 wan t goin to tech the doctor. We would n t a 
 done a thing but to scare him. Big Thunder tol 
 me so himself, before we started out. I should n t 
 never have gone a step if he had n t tol me so." 
 
 His babyish eyes, big with appeal, moved past 
 Mathice, and settled upon some object farther 
 away. 
 
 " Helloa," he cried. " Where on earth did you 
 drop from ? " 
 
 Matt looked over his shoulder. In the wide en 
 trance stood Omar Mix. 
 
 He faced about quickly, throwing back his head, 
 
94 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 leveling his eyes upon the boy, tightening his hold 
 on the stick he carried. He thought his hour had 
 come. 
 
 Omar took a step nearer him. Henry was quiet, 
 grinning from one to the other. 
 
 " Well," declared Omar, surveying Mathice as 
 if for the first time, " you re the cutest fellow ever 
 I seen in my life ! " 
 
 Matt made no reply. 
 
 " I tell you I was glad when I see you ridin up 
 to the mill." The eager voice was changing. It be 
 gan in a growl, and ended in an uncertain squeak. 
 " I ve been wishin I d meet you this mornin . I 
 want to thank ye, Matt." 
 
 " What for ? " asked Mathice. 
 
 The switch in his fingers snapped beneath their 
 pressure. His head whirled with the suddenness 
 of the surprise. But he confronted Omar in no 
 outward change of demeanor. 
 
 " For my part of it," the boy answered. " For 
 puttin me out o harm s way. Gee ! What if 
 Mossy had ketched me mongst em ! I bet ye he d 
 a licked me good." Omar wagged his broad- 
 brimmed hat over the notion. " But say, Matt," - 
 he came on another step, dropping his tone to a 
 confidential key, " what we want to know is 
 Don t we, Henry ? " 
 
 " Yes," Henry assented at random. 
 
 " What we want o know is why Big Thunder 
 should a been so set to go out. He says you told 
 him Tobe Snyder was waitin there the other side 
 o Broomstick Hill." 
 
AT THE SAMP-MILL 95 
 
 There was a second s pause. * 
 
 "Why was he so set to go?" Henry echoed, 
 like a parrot. 
 
 Matt began to see the situation. His loyalty 
 was beyond dispute; his arrogance, as Davit Finck 
 had hinted, was as fully understood. The Indians 
 believed him to have acted for the common good 
 in his rebellion against their chief. And so it 
 had happened the action was proved to have 
 been wise. 
 
 " Oh, I suppose," he answered generously, " he 
 thought it was some story I had picked up, that 
 there wasn t any truth in it. And he saw I 
 wanted to save the doctor. He imagined I made 
 a mountain out of a molehill to get the doctor off." 
 
 " We suspected as much. The boys was talkin 
 it over when we come back to the schoolhouse. 
 An your gittin the doctor out o the wagon ! " 
 Omar gave a hearty, youthful laugh. "I swan 
 but that was cute. We re all proud o ye, Matt. 
 Ye done well. There was Tobe an his men gal- 
 lopin up an hopin to ketch us in the act. An 
 there was poor Mossy that had run into him, on the 
 pike, not darin to move, an wishin he was fur 
 ther. I tell ye it was fun ! " He heaved a sigh. 
 " Tall events, so the boys say. I wan t there to 
 see. I s pose it s for the best I wan t. Mossy d 
 a licked me good." 
 
 " Well, it was fun," Henry insisted, with his 
 meaningless smile. 
 
 He had so little understood their purpose that 
 the sheriff s chagrin at the fruitless meeting of the 
 
96 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 band with the empty chaise appealed less to him 
 than to his fellows. Still " It was fun," he re 
 peated. 
 
 " Have you seen any o the boys yet ? " Omar 
 continued. 
 
 " No. Not yet." 
 
 " They say Tobe was too disgusted to arrest em 
 for disguises. He might a laid into em for that. 
 An he didn t do a livin thing but cuss." 
 
 " No," Henry repeated, " not a livin thing." 
 
 " Well, Matt, there s this much I m sure 
 we re all agreed. You was the hero of las night. 
 I guess even Big Thunder acknowledges it now. 
 Tobe had a heap o men there. You was all that 
 saved us. An you saved me from everything." 
 
 " Oh, that s all right," said Matt in the accepted 
 formula. " You make too much of what I did. It 
 was only my duty, as I saw it. I m glad the boys 
 were pleased." 
 
CHAPTER X 
 
 CRAZY DAN 
 
 " There is no resource where there is no understanding." 
 
 " HERE comes Matt Hager. Maybe he s heard 
 about it." 
 
 The group of men, lounging on the platform, 
 looked up from their pipes and their whittling, as 
 Gitty and Matt drove up to Mix s. The girl clam 
 bered down from the wagon without assistance ; 
 it was not required, and no one thought of proffer 
 ing it. After she had gathered together her arms- 
 ful of barter and gone on into the shop, " to do a 
 little trading," several of the bystanders advanced 
 to the steps, and stood regarding Matt. 
 
 Vocabularies were small and conversation was 
 limited, in such lives as theirs, shut out from read 
 ing or from travel or from free intercourse with 
 their kind. They knew what they wanted to say, 
 but it was painfully hard to express it. So they 
 waited, each for another, and looked at Matt. 
 
 He was leaning back in his seat, the loose reins 
 lying on his lap. He straightened himself quickly, 
 eyeing the men. 
 
 " What s the matter ? " he asked. " Anything 
 gone wrong ? " 
 
98 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Then you have n t heard about the row in 
 Columbia County ?" 
 
 "No. What is it?" 
 
 Matt s manner betrayed his relief. He dreaded 
 something irretrievably wrong nearer home. 
 
 " You remember the time they had there, a 
 while back, with the deputy sheriff over some 
 writs he tried to serve?" 
 
 " Yes. Has anything more come of it ? " 
 
 Two or three thereupon began to speak in con 
 cert. Conrate Swart s insistent voice dominated, 
 although it was cautiously lowered. 
 
 " Why, you know some of the Indians lost 
 their masks in the rumpus, and he recognized 
 them?" 
 
 "Yes, I know. They were arrested. What 
 then? Has the trial come off ? " 
 
 Conrate nodded. " One pleaded guilty. He 
 was fined $250. Three have been sentenced to 
 State s prison for two years. Two others have n t 
 been tried yet." 
 
 Matt gave a long, low whistle. The tenants of 
 each patent watched the others for example and en 
 couragement in resistance to their landlords. The 
 Columbia County affair was a test case wherein 
 the Indians everywhere could see that the law 
 against the appearance of disguised and armed 
 men might prove more than a dead letter. 
 
 " And that ain t all," Storm Zielle added. " Dr. 
 Boughton s been arrested for murder. T wan t 
 murder. T was an accident. But there was a 
 man killed, and they throwed him into jail." 
 
CRAZY DAN 99 
 
 " Whew ! " cried Matt. " They are going it ! 
 You mean Dr. Boughton the agitator ? " 
 
 " Yes, the one," here Conrate s voice dropped 
 to a still more mysterious cadence, " that thought 
 of the notion, in the first place, of wearing dis 
 guises. You remember he spoke here two years 
 ago." 
 
 " I did n t hear- him," Matt replied. " There s 
 going to be another lecturer here by and by, is n t 
 there ? " 
 
 The several men all gave assent. 
 
 " I guess the meeting won t suffer none," Storm 
 Zielle remarked, " because of all this interference. 
 I guess we 11 show em we can hold our own. 
 Hey, Matt?" 
 
 " I guess so," said Mathice. 
 
 " For the great day of His wrath is come ; and 
 who shall be able to stand ? " 
 
 It was a commanding tone, rich and full and pen 
 etrating, in which the words rang out on the peace 
 ful summer morning. The men started, drawing 
 nearer together. 
 
 " It sounded kind of terrible, did n t it ? " com 
 mented Casper Enpolt, "coming in like that on 
 what we were saying. I d clean forgot all about 
 crazy Dan." 
 
 " He ain t been round in a good while," another 
 observed. " Helloa, Dan, where you kept yourself 
 this winter ? How ye vas ? " 
 
 The facetious address was lost upon its object. 
 He advanced down the road toward them, kicking 
 up the dust like a child, and gesticulating, while 
 
100 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 his lips moved as if he might be praying. All 
 watched the strange figure in the cloud he raised, 
 no one speaking again at once. Crazy Dan was a 
 tall, gaunt man, with a weak face and wandering 
 eyes. He was dressed in shabby black, and car 
 ried a basket of carpenter s tools upon one arm. 
 
 " I always feel," Mathice exclaimed at length 
 and half to himself, " as if Dan brought trouble 
 with him. I never like to see him in town." 
 
 " Seems to me you re gittin notional," said 
 Storm with an uncertain grin. " What harm 
 ctfuld crazy Dan do, I d admire to know ? " 
 
 None surely. The poor creature was a factor 
 in the life of Farley too familiar to be deemed 
 pathetic, although every one had heard his history. 
 A half century ago no community was without its 
 eccentric women who shut themselves into seclu 
 sion, and its men, " touched," according to local 
 phrase, wandering about the country, gathering a 
 precarious alms from the contemptuous pity of 
 their fellows. Daniel Pick s slow brain had re 
 belled, long ago, under the pressure brought to 
 bear upon it by combined religious zeal and pinch 
 ing poverty, in a struggle to fit himself for the 
 ministry. Through these later years he lived alone 
 in a hut on Baldwin Heights, whence he journeyed 
 about the county executing " odd jobs " of carpen 
 try, his peculiar garrulity taking the form of quo 
 tation from the Scriptures. 
 
 " I m no fool," Matt answered Storm Zielle 
 sharply, " and I don t suppose he can hurt me. 
 But someway or other I ve always felt as if he 
 
CRAZY DAN 101 
 
 was unlucky. I used to think, when I was a little 
 boy, that the fish did n t bite the day I met Crazy 
 Dan." 
 
 He joined sheepishly in the general smile at his 
 folly. 
 
 " For the great day of His wrath is come ; and 
 who shall be able to stand ? " 
 
 " I guess it s because he s always holdin forth 
 out o those creepy kind o sayings," Casper rather 
 elaborately explained. " It stands to reason, Matt, 
 he can t bring trouble." 
 
 " Oh, no," Matt answered, " of course not." 
 
 By this time the sound of Dan s voice had at 
 tracted Josephine Mix from behind the counter. 
 She came to the doorway and accosted him. 
 
 " I m glad to see you, Mr. Pick," she called. 
 " We want a new shelf put up in the store. Walk 
 right in." 
 
 But Daniel had spied an audience assembled 
 on the platform. He liked to shout, and he did 
 not like to work. 
 
 " A word in season," he pleaded to the girl as 
 he climbed the steps. " The harvest is ripe. I 
 must thrust in the sickle, and reap." 
 
 " No, no," she urged. " Come put up the shelf 
 first." 
 
 He waved her aside, set down his basket, and 
 went forward to confront the group laughing at 
 Josephine s discomfiture and Daniel Pick s char 
 acteristic behavior. 
 
 " Entreat the younger men as brethren," he be 
 gan in a musical chant. " Hearken to the voice 
 
102 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 of the Lord, for to Him ye shall hearken. The 
 great day of His wrath is come, and who shall be 
 able to stand ? Brethren, do you know what them 
 words mean ? They mean," he shook a long fore 
 finger at the row of careless faces, " the second woe 
 is past ; and, behold, the third woe cometh quickly." 
 
 In the warm sunlight Matt felt a chill shake his 
 body. He told himself it was a touch of ague. 
 
 "And what does that mean, Dan?" a merry 
 call challenged the exhorter. 
 
 Without turning in the direction of the sound, 
 Matt knew at once who had spoken. Almiran 
 Sweet must have joined the group closing in about 
 the village butt. Matt whirled Billy around in the 
 road, managing to turn his back on his old friend. 
 
 " Gitty, are n t you most ready ? " he shouted. 
 
 Certainly Matt had no intention of betraying 
 Almiran s perfidy to the Downrenters. Quite as 
 certainly he intended to show the traitor that there 
 could be no common ground henceforth between 
 them. He was too unaccustomed to self-analysis 
 to understand how large a part of this resentment 
 was based upon jealousy. He gloried in his senti 
 ments, not weighing their sincerity. 
 
 At his peremptory summons, Gitty hurried out 
 from her gossip with Josephine. She blushed, in 
 her slat bonnet, as she caught sight of Almiran, 
 who looked as conscious at the unexpected meet 
 ing. But their shy smiles were their only saluta 
 tion, partly because there were so many amused 
 spectators, partly because Almiran was at that 
 time uncertain how much he desired of Gitty s 
 
CRAZY DAN 103 
 
 society, and most of all because he comprehended 
 what Mathice s action implied. 
 
 His face grew dull red with rage. Heedless of 
 Crazy Dan s personal pleading for the preacher 
 advanced and, laying his hand on Almiran s sleeve, 
 was disposed to beat time to a private explanation 
 of his texts he turned abruptly on his heel and 
 entered Mix s door. 
 
 " Get in," Matt commanded gruffly. 
 
 He was mortified that his sister should appear 
 so woe-begone, that her eyes should so wistfully 
 follow the retreating form. "And all those fel 
 lows gaping at her ! " he mentally concluded. 
 
 As they drove away both caught the comment 
 tossed back and forth between voices inadequately 
 lowered. 
 
 " What s up there ? I thought him an Almiran 
 was thicker n cold molasses." 
 
 "After the same girl, I reckon." And then a 
 derisive titter. 
 
 Of the two young people, equally unhappy, 
 neither spoke during the drive home. Not until 
 the house loomed in sight did either break the 
 silence. Then Gitty uttered a sharp outcry. 
 
 "What s the matter now?" Matt demanded, 
 roused from his fit of brooding. 
 
 He was disposed to echo the girl s petulant paren 
 thesis, " I think we had enough ! " when she went 
 on, " There s Tobe Snyder s horse and buggy at 
 the gate. Likely as not he s come about the rent. 
 Oh, dear ! How do you suppose father will act ? " 
 
 " Like a blamed idiot," was Matt s reply. Set- 
 
104 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 ting his teeth, he added at once, " And as soon as 
 ever I get where Tobe Snyder is, I 11 act like a 
 blamed idiot too." 
 
 He tapped Billy with the whip, and they has 
 tened along the road. Gitty swayed in her wagon 
 chair, jolted about by the rattling pace, her features 
 working with present discomfort and fretfulness 
 as to the future. 
 
 Women make admirable martyrs on impulse, 
 but their patience in protracted defiance is apt to 
 wane. 
 
 " Oh, Matt," she gasped, when they stopped at 
 the gate, " I ve been thinking : could n t you give 
 in just a little ? Remember what it means, if 
 you don t." 
 
 Matt accepted this as the temptation of an evil 
 spirit, more subtle since his heart spoke with it. 
 " That s a pretty way to talk," he remonstrated, 
 springing to the ground. " You forget there s a 
 wrong here to be righted. And how will it ever 
 be done if we all give in a little ? The only 
 thing for us to do is, nobody yield an inch." 
 
 Gitty gave a sort of moan, no argument, but a 
 mere annoyance. She did not attempt to speak 
 further, and went on into the house, shedding a 
 few tears on the bundles she hugged to her breast. 
 Matt, meanwhile, led Billy out to the barn. He 
 was on the alert, but saw no signs of the sher 
 iff s man until the stable was reached. There he 
 caught the sound of loud dispute, and guided by 
 it, hastened around the building to the wagon- 
 house. 
 
CRAZY DAN 105 
 
 On the grass outside, in the sunshine, squatted 
 old Jacob. He had evidently been surprised at 
 work upon a dilapidated hay-rigging. It was the 
 constable Job Ecker who faced his fury. 
 
 " Come, come, Jacob," he was urging as Matt 
 came within earshot. " They ain t no call for you 
 to use such language. I ain t to blame. I was 
 sent to serve the papers, an I done as I was bid. 
 I don t see why you should go to be mad at me." 
 
 The crouching figure upon the ground was en 
 deavoring to rise. Old Jacob muttered incessantly 
 as he lifted himself from his helpless attitude. 
 The constable in his simplicity imagined the sub 
 sidence of that storm with which he had been 
 greeted meant wiser second thoughts. He held 
 out a folded paper in his broad, red hand. 
 
 " Now we re all right," said he. " You re goin 
 to behave decent, ain t you ? " 
 
 Instantly it was a maniac who stamped and 
 yelled before him. " Ton t you gome near. Ton t 
 you gome near," shrieked old Jacob, reverting, 
 as men will at such moments, to his mother speech. 
 When very angry he was all Dutch. " If you gif 
 me dat baper, I tear it into a t ousand bieces." 
 
 " But, Jacob," argued the man. " I got to give 
 it to you. Do be reas nable. I ain t no choice." 
 
 Old Jacob raised his right hand and heavily 
 smote his thigh. 
 
 " If you to," he cried with a stream of oaths, " I 
 gill you, so help me Gott." 
 
 He seized the hammer at his side, poising it 
 for a blow. Matt sprang forward, but the officer, 
 
106 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 alarmed out of what sense he owned, waited for 
 no reinforcement. 
 
 He fled from the murderous weapon, and the 
 murderous face behind it. He rushed past Ma- 
 thice, nearly overturning him in his haste, and 
 before old Jacob could carry his impulse into 
 execution, the victim of his rage had disappeared. 
 The two Downrenters were left alone. 
 
CHAPTER XI 
 
 " THE LORD IS IN HIS HOLY TEMPLE " 
 
 " Many enter the Temple through the gate called Beautiful." 
 
 THE church at Farley which the Hager family 
 attended was situated on the main street, at the 
 furthest extremity from the short lane leading to 
 the little white building where the few Episcopa 
 lians worshiped. The road the Coltons naturally 
 chose, and that directly from the Hager farm, so 
 diverged that the two parties never would have 
 met on Sunday morning had not Mathice taken 
 affairs into his high-handed control. Gitty under 
 stood when it was that he learned of his love s 
 creed. After that walk home with Phe Colton, 
 each week as they drove to church, Matt found 
 excuse, at the fork in the roads, for choosing the 
 roundabout way which led down the hill by the 
 cross-crowned church, and so, through the lane, to 
 the main street. If nothing else served, he would 
 mutter undecidedly, 
 
 " I guess we might as well go around here," 
 and cluck to the horses, turning their heads in 
 the desired direction. 
 
 The girl herself partook of mixed emotions upon 
 those Sunday mornings, as they passed what had 
 
108 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 always been simply " his church " to her. If they 
 failed to see Phoebe, her heart lightened, despite 
 Matt s unconcealed disappointment. She con 
 cluded with a fierce joy, " Maybe she is n t com 
 ing to-day." 
 
 If they caught a glimpse of the graceful figure 
 in its simple finery so exquisitely becoming, Gitty 
 derived small good, thereafter, from the service in 
 which she mechanically took part. Throughout 
 the long prayer and the sermon her fancy was 
 occupied by visions of Almiran seated in the sing 
 ing gallery, his eyes wandering to the face and form 
 that, a little while before, had caused Matt to color 
 rapturously, that had roused her reluctant admira 
 tion, and had perhaps wrung from her mother s 
 crushed interests the startled murmur, 
 
 " My ! How sweet she looks." 
 
 Sunday was no day of rest to Gitty Hager, 
 church no abode of peace. In the selfishness of a 
 first romance, when Mary Ann confided gleefully 
 to her that not only her brother Demosthenes, but, 
 it was rumored, " teacher " as well had become, of 
 late, frequenters of the Episcopal church, she found 
 comfort in the swift reflection, that either of the 
 rivals might push the less confident Almiran aside. 
 She hinted this hope to Mary Ann, for she pos 
 sessed the confidante most young girls find indis 
 pensable in their affairs of the heart. 
 
 Her practical friend immediately demurred, 
 
 "But you wouldn t want him back, if he only 
 came because he couldn t get Phe Colton." 
 
 " Yes, I would," said Gitty. 
 
THE LORD IS IN HIS HOLY TEMPLE 109 
 
 The state of affairs had always been hardest on 
 Sunday evening, when, although no youth ever 
 dreamed of escorting a girl to church, " seeing 
 her home " was a marked feature of courtship. 
 Almiran and Gitty went, perforce, their lonely 
 paths for years. Now the question to Gitty, join 
 ing, as of old, some other unattended young wo 
 man, ran ever, Was Almiran with Phoebe ? and she 
 dreaded Monday morning at school, lest some gig 
 gling girl might tell her how, on the night before, 
 her constant fear came true. 
 
 Old Jacob transferred his religious duties to his 
 family, so that he knew nothing of his son s new 
 found route to church. The son, for his part, had 
 become accustomed, through lifelong submission to 
 a conservative environment, to a meek following 
 of custom, however unlikely he was, otherwise, to 
 behave as a meek person. It dawned slowly upon 
 him that another course lay open. He pondered 
 long the gossip concerning Demosthenes defection 
 from the faith of his fathers, and Mr. Rockwell s 
 frequent absence from among the Presbyterians, 
 before it became apparent that, at least, he might 
 do all they had done. One Sunday night, after 
 walking to town with Gitty and the neighbors 
 daughters who often happened to opportunely cross 
 Matt Hager s path, he astonished his sister by 
 pausing at the foot of the lane called Church 
 Street, and announcing coolly, 
 
 " Guess I 11 go to the Episcopal church to-night." 
 
 The other girls raised an outcry peevishly shrill. 
 Gitty understood her brother too well jfco waste 
 
110 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 time in remonstrance. Nor on the whole did she 
 regret this action. 
 
 " He 11 get ahead of him, and take her home 
 himself," one thought told another. And the sec 
 ond thought comprehended perfectly what that 
 vagueness of pronoun meant. 
 
 Mathice left them, as he said he should, in spite 
 of the protests raised. He strode boldly up the 
 broad board walk, in the deep shadow of the ma 
 ples, followed by reproachful eyes that detected a 
 bravado in his gait, and could not see the embar 
 rassment he felt. It was a terrifyingly strange 
 experience this that he undertook. 
 
 On the platform before the wide doorway stood 
 Mrs. Colton, Allie, and Phe. The sickly light 
 of a kerosene lamp over the entrance showed them 
 to him and him to them, climbing the rough steps, 
 coming to their service. 
 
 " Why, Matt Hager," cried Allie, " is that you ? 
 I thought you belonged to Dominie Lansing s 
 church. Don t you ? Almiran told me you did." 
 
 " Well, I do," said Matt grimly, looking at 
 Phe. " But are you going to drive me away, if I 
 want to visit you ? " 
 
 She shook her pretty bonnet that had brought 
 many an ache to Gitty s heart. 
 
 " No. You re welcome," she murmured as an 
 accompaniment to her mother s cordial speech. 
 
 Mrs. Colton was frankly pleased to see the 
 young fellow, to whom she was grateful for his in 
 terference on Broomstick Hill, in the behalf of her 
 husband. Not only did she rejoice over any recruit 
 
THE LORD IS IN HIS HOLY TEMPLE 111 
 
 to their fold, but she was glad of the opportunity 
 to pay especial attention to this particular stranger 
 in the church. Of course he had no seat. Not 
 in the least aware what it implied to her compan 
 ions, she inquired, 
 
 " Won t you come into our pew, Mr. Hager ? 
 There will be plenty of room." 
 
 " With you ? " he gasped, unable to credit this 
 stroke of good fortune. 
 
 "Yes, with us," she answered, while Phe s 
 cheeks grew pinker and pinker. " Dr. Colton had 
 a call this evening, and Allie sings in the choir. 
 There is plenty of room." 
 
 " Thank you," said Matt fervently ; " I 11 be 
 happy to do so." 
 
 And he was happy. As in a dream of bliss he 
 followed the two along the short and narrow aisle, 
 while Allie clattered up the vestibule s approach 
 to the gallery. Matt had never been inside the 
 church before, but at first, between his bewilder 
 ment and his delight, he saw everything through a 
 haze. He bowed his head, for a moment, over his 
 hat, when Phe and her mother knelt lowly for 
 what appeared to him long and lovely devotion. 
 He told himself this was his lucky night. Mrs. 
 Colton took the corner seat as a matter of course, 
 forgetting again, in an older woman s detachment 
 from such follies, all that it might be to her daugh 
 ter and their companion to sit side by side in 
 the box-like pew, after Matt had latched the door 
 and their rustling skirts settled themselves for the 
 evening. 
 
112 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 Phe was as conscious as the young man next 
 her, although her confusion took a pretty form, 
 and his showed itself in a determination of bear 
 ing, a set expression upon his face. 
 
 " Would you like me to find the places ? " she 
 whispered. 
 
 Matt had no idea what she meant, but he an 
 swered yes, because he could not bear to say no to 
 her. 
 
 She opened a prayer-book and handed it to him. 
 He accepted it awkwardly, and held it between a 
 thumb and finger, seeming so distressed by its 
 presence that Phe reached out for it again. 
 
 " You can look over with me," she explained in 
 the confidential undertone that was so enchanting. 
 " That will be best, after all." 
 
 Naturally, whatever looking over might be, it 
 must be best with her. 
 
 The bell ceased tolling. Late comers hurried 
 along the aisles. There was a rustle in the gallery, 
 and a faint conferring. The organ sounded forth 
 in the voluntary. 
 
 Matt was too overcome by his position to move 
 his head a hair s breadth. Yet by this time, gazing 
 straight in front of him, he began to see something 
 besides Phe Colton. Forty or fifty seats occupied 
 the centre of the church, which had two side pas 
 sages with rows of single pews along the wall. 
 Transverse seats faced the pulpit at the end. There 
 was no recess chancel. Instead a high, wide pulpit, 
 on a level with the gallery which ran along three 
 sides of the building, looked on a platform but a 
 
THE LORD IS IN HIS HOLY TEMPLE 113 
 
 step above the ground floor. The lectern and 
 prayer-desk stood here, and the communion table 
 against the pulpit s base. There was a railing 
 around the three sides. " I don t see any gate," 
 Matt mused. " How is the dominie going to get 
 in?" 
 
 He failed to notice the narrow, paneled doors 
 back of the pulpit and below to the right and left. 
 Presently one of these opened. A white-robed 
 figure glided through the passage. He paused to 
 close the door, and Mathice absorbed every detail 
 of the flowing surplice, the long sleeves, the black 
 stole. Well, he never had seen a man dressed 
 like that. 
 
 The Reverend Osman Wakefield advanced to 
 the prayer-desk, kneeling while the soft notes of 
 the organ rippled on. By the time he rose, " I 
 kind of like it, too," Matt had concluded. 
 
 He possessed no understanding of what it was 
 he liked, nor that the majesty of even so bare a 
 church had found its way to his soul. The music 
 ceased. Mr. Wakefield opened the book in his 
 hand and, without glancing at the open page, as 
 Matt observed, solemnly uttered these words : 
 
 "The Lord is in His Holy Temple. Let all 
 the earth keep silence before Him." 
 
 " I swan I like it," thought Matt. 
 
 He marked Phe s every motion, and when, in 
 compliance with the exhortation to confess her 
 sins, the girl sank to her knees, Mathice threw 
 himself heavily upon the bench with her. He 
 heard, bound by a strange, sweet spell, the soft 
 
114 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 recital reverently, to the listening Lord of heaven, 
 of her repentance and her prayer for pardon. It 
 was little to him that priest and people were pray 
 ing also. He hearkened, awestruck, to Fhosbe s 
 voice alone. 
 
 As they rose to their feet, the girl held out one 
 half her prayer-book to him. Matt clutched at it, 
 his eyes seeking the page, his features desperately 
 intent. He read, with the minutest care, the sen 
 tences before him. Phe answered the dominie, he 
 remarked, but that they all did, and so readily ! 
 She never looked at the book. Presently there 
 was a general flutter of leaves as Mr. Wakefield 
 announced the psalter for the day. Still, Phoebe, 
 so Matt saw, cast but a glance now and then at 
 the leaf he turned. She repeated the sublime 
 sentences as if they were her daily talk. 
 
 " O sing unto the Lord a new song : for He 
 hath done marvellous things." 
 
 So said the clergyman. 
 
 " With His own right hand, and with His holy 
 arm hath He gotten Himself the victory," the 
 girl s clear voice responded. 
 
 " I believe she s got the whole thing by heart," 
 thought Matt, with a wild pride in this accom 
 plishment. 
 
 She seemed so saintly, so uplifted, as she stood, 
 mute, throughout the chanting, or sat demurely, 
 twirling a sprig of lemon verbena, her lovely face 
 raised in an attitude of rapt attention. 
 
 " Here endeth the Second Lesson." 
 
 " God be merciful unto us, and bless us ; and 
 
THE LORD IS IN HIS HOLY TEMPLE 115 
 
 show us the light of His countenance, and be 
 merciful unto us." 
 
 Allie s fresh treble sang the phrases with a 
 pathos in the innocence of the childish voice. 
 Matt s keen eyes softened as the little boy, upheld 
 by an uncertain country choir, proclaimed, 
 
 " God shall bless us, and all the ends of the 
 world shall fear Him." 
 
 Thereupon Phrebe took up the strain. Fol 
 lowing the clergyman s guidance, surrounded by 
 others saying the same words (Matt wondered 
 what it was all about) the girl declared her Be 
 lief. 
 
 Other prayers followed, and the thirteenth from 
 the Selections of Psalms : 
 
 " My grateful soul shall bless the Lord, 
 
 Whose precepts give me light. 
 And private counsel still afford 
 In sorrow s dismal night." 
 
 While the dragging verses wound their slow 
 length along, Mr. Wakefield disappeared. Matt 
 supposed the service was finished. He made no 
 move, however, afraid of an independent action. 
 And by and by, the little door at the back of 
 the pulpit opened. The clergyman, in a black 
 gown, entered from the vestry room. 
 
 This was long before the era when extempore 
 speaking should be deemed a fitting adjunct to 
 a liturgy contending against the impromptu as 
 unseemly. Mr. Wakefield preached a carefully 
 written, earnest sermon, so short that Matt was 
 taken by surprise with its close, but so dignified 
 
116 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 that his Ascription appealed to the young critic 
 as eminently fitting. 
 
 " I do like that," he thought. 
 
 When it was all over, when the congregation 
 rose, and Matt could see Demosthenes expression 
 of astonishment and Mr. Rockwell s pretense of 
 indifference, when, with a clatter, the pew doors 
 flew open, and Phe murmured shyly, " We must 
 wait for Allie," Matt was still in a beautiful 
 dream. But she was the heart of it. He had 
 composure sufficient to ask, 
 
 " Can t he take your mother ? May I wait on 
 you home, Phoebe ? " 
 
 And, oh, her face as she said yes ! 
 
 Ah, well, whatever life doles out or withholds 
 from us, we have all, some time, been young. 
 
CHAPTER XII 
 
 THE CRIPPLE BUSH 
 Of all wild beasts, boys are the most unmanageable. PLATO. 
 
 IN the conceit of a narrow mind bred in a nar 
 row environment and there is no conceit com 
 parable with it Jacob Hager believed his resist 
 ance would satisfy his landlord s agent, and the 
 servants of the law, that they could not move 
 him. 
 
 " I ain t never yet been made to do what I 
 didn t want to," he blustered. Thus he fancied 
 he had heard the last of the matter. 
 
 Squire Mayham paid no attention to this brag 
 on the rare occasions when the two men met 
 each other. But his sharp old eyes detected that 
 Matt s spirit writhed beneath the noisy demon 
 strations. 
 
 " Among the friends of a cause," he told his 
 sister-in-law, Miss Azubah, " there are always 
 those who may be trusted to alienate others from 
 it, where no contrary argument could prove effec 
 tive." 
 
 The Squire spoke from personal experience. 
 
 " What s the matter with your team, Marcus?" 
 Mrs. Hager inquired one morning. 
 
118 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 X 
 
 Her apron rolled over her bare arms, she stood 
 in the seldom-used front door, regarding the fine 
 pair of horses with such interest as her listlessness 
 could muster. Their manes and tails had been 
 barbarously cut. 
 
 " Indians," was the curt response. " I differed 
 from them, you see, in my opinion as to their 
 treatment of the new doctor. And this is their 
 method of fighting me." 
 
 Maria shook her head feebly. " It s terrible 
 times," she remarked. 
 
 Her husband caught the weak sentence as he 
 came around the corner of the house. " It s 
 going to be worse yet," he prophesied. " They ll 
 find out the tenants can t be budged an inch. 
 Ain t that so, Squire ? " 
 
 If old Jacob could be said to revere any earthly 
 person besides himself, it must have been his 
 wife s rich cousin. He had consented ungraciously 
 to attend, and to allow Mathice to attend, with 
 Squire Mayham a local meeting of the Anti-rent 
 Association. All three were members, in common 
 with most men hereabouts, but Jacob Hager did 
 not believe in such gatherings. If he could have 
 explained his repugnance, it amounted, after all, 
 to this, that he found it hard to listen patiently 
 to dogmatic assertions. Authoritative speech, on 
 any matter whatever, he unconsciously claimed as 
 his exclusive right. 
 
 The Squire, for his part, had a faint hope that 
 the counsels of this conservative body might pre 
 vail with the violent old man. Something must 
 
THE CRIPPLE BUSH 119 
 
 be done, and speedily, in Jacob Hager s affairs. 
 The wise elder man understood that the attitude 
 of defiance cauld not be maintained. Private 
 advice was wasted on such a character. Possibly 
 public admonition might be accepted. 
 
 They drove to a neighboring village, reaching 
 Middlefield about noon. The Squire put up his 
 horses in the tavern stables, and left Matt to feed 
 them with the hay and grain Old Jacob had in 
 sisted upon bringing, while the other two carried 
 their dinner-box into the barroom. This likewise 
 was in accordance with the wish of the despotic 
 guest. The Squire desired to dine at the public 
 table. Jacob would not hear of such extrava 
 gance, and had commanded Gitty to pack up a 
 lunch for them before they left the farm. Accord 
 ingly they seated themselves at one of the tables 
 provided for such refreshment, and ate their cold 
 meal together, washing it down with a glass of 
 flip apiece. 
 
 " Richest man in the county, Squire Mayham 
 is," remarked the landlord as soon as the door 
 closed behind them. " Yet you don t ketch him 
 paying for a hot dinner. He brought his own 
 fodder, too, and saved a shilling. Well, it takes 
 all kinds to make a world." 
 
 This somewhat barren philosophy was rein 
 forced by the fact that very few farmers, rich or 
 poor, used the tavern otherwise than as these had 
 done. It must depend upon stage-coach travel for 
 the collection of its modest revenues. Six cents a 
 wayfarer was asked for lodging at such an inn. 
 
120 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 The town was crowded to-day, for from every 
 point within reach, men were pouring into Middle- 
 field to attend the meeting. Neither were these 
 all blustering young fellows, ready for a frolic. It 
 was much to say for the Downrenters that many 
 of them were industrious and moral, belonging to 
 the sober and conservative class. An unusually 
 good audience in every sense good filled the 
 town hall at the appointed hour. 
 
 Jacob Hager was ill at ease and, consequently, 
 sulky. However, he rather enjoyed the earlier 
 speeches, where stress was laid upon certain incon 
 testable facts: that throughout what had been in 
 colonial days the great manors, not the severest 
 toil nor any improvement in cultivation nor the 
 growth of population could benefit the tenant. He 
 possessed title neither to the house he built nor 
 the fields he sowed. He could be driven from his 
 home at any hour on a mere technicality of law. 
 Much of the land was poor or exhausted. Emi 
 gration to the cheap and fertile Western country 
 had carried with it many of the younger, stronger 
 men. Those left behind found it sometimes diffi 
 cult to raise even the low rent exacted. 
 
 One orator dwelt briefly upon the history of the 
 case : how, in 1775, when the English government 
 gave way to that of the State of New York, the 
 feudal character of land ownership was changed to 
 that which a simple citizen could exercise. Rens- 
 selaerwyck s new lease was said to have been drawn 
 by Alexander Hamilton, brother-in-law of the last 
 patroon. 
 
THE CRIPPLE BUSH 121 
 
 " It was what was called a perpetual lease," the 
 speaker explained, " with the reservation of an 
 annual rent in wheat. About half the leases con 
 tained a reservation, in case of sale by the tenant, 
 of one quarter the price, to be paid the landlord. 
 The other half provided that in case of sale an 
 extra year s rent should be paid to him. On the 
 portions of land first settled, the annual rent of 
 a farm was usually ten bushels of wheat for each 
 one hundred acres, with four fat hens and one 
 day s work with a team of horses or oxen. About 
 the country later settled, the rent was generally 
 fourteen bushels of wheat for every hundred 
 acres." 
 
 Old Jacob cared nothing, one way or the other, 
 for these statements, already familiar, but he be 
 came restive under the references that followed to 
 the generosity of their late landlord, Stephen Van 
 Rensselaer,. who had been so loath to press his 
 claims and so prone to accept any excuse for their 
 nonpayment that, at his death, six years before, 
 back rents amounted to f> 400,000, while his debts 
 were for the same amount. The speaker further 
 conceded that the heirs had been honorable and 
 considerate. But he reverted to the terms of Mr. 
 Van Rensselaer s will, which created a trust for 
 the payment of his creditors, and provided that the 
 proceeds from the collection of back rents should 
 go in that direction. They were the requirements 
 of this trust from which all the tenants troubles 
 hereabouts had come. 
 
 The Squire noticed how closely Matt listened, 
 
122 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 and how Matt s father squirmed about on his 
 seat. 
 
 " Be still, will you ? " he commanded sternly. 
 
 " No, I won t," growled old Jacob, " not to such 
 fool talk. What s the matter with em, anyway? 
 They ain t once said we was right." 
 
 " Wait," urged the Squire. " There is time for 
 that yet." 
 
 For the long speech began to touch upon the 
 proceedings of the Anti-rent State Convention held 
 in the previous January. It repeated the resolu 
 tions then passed, demanding, on the part of jus 
 tice, three things : a repeal of the special privileges 
 accorded to landlords ; legal authority to set up 
 as a defense against the payment of rent the im 
 perfection of the landlords titles ; and the taxation 
 of rents. There were a few words upon the fair 
 ness of these demands, and further comment upon 
 the Association s frequent petitions concerning the 
 laws of ejectment, the reservation of water privi 
 leges, mines, and minerals, and the injustice of 
 quarter sales ; their request for a law against own 
 ership of more than one thousand acres of land, 
 another compelling landlords to sell to tenants at a 
 price fixed by commissioners, one modifying the 
 conditions of leases so that rents be payable in 
 money, and, lastly, that the State seize, by right of 
 eminent domain, all leased land, pay a fair price, 
 and dispose of it fairly to tenants. " These peti 
 tions," the closing sentences acknowledged, " have 
 received no attention, nor have the resolutions 
 adopted by our State Convention. On the con- 
 
THE CRIPPLE BUSH 123 
 
 trary, last winter s legislature passed laws aimed at 
 such disturbances as have arisen from the wrongs 
 of the Anti-renters." 
 
 Evidently by a preconcerted arrangement an 
 other orator took these last stated facts as a text 
 on which to preach against violence. It was, 
 he contended, not only evil in itself, but detri 
 mental to their interests. His audience was appar 
 ently in general accord with this sentiment, a few 
 men of Jacob Hager s type being alone in their 
 disapproval. Some one thereupon made a motion 
 for a tax upon each member of a few cents an 
 acre, grading it according to the land he held, to 
 meet the expenses of lectures and assemblies. It 
 was carried almost unanimously, but the proposi 
 tion of an insubordinate spirit that another assess 
 ment be levied for the cost of equipment and 
 maintenance of Indians was overwhelmingly de 
 feated. 
 
 " That was a most sensible conclusion, a sensible 
 conclusion." The Squire repeated his assertion as 
 they elbowed their way to the door. His clear-cut, 
 decisive tone downed even Jacob s shrill demur in 
 an unending argument during all the time that 
 they were " hitching up " at the tavern. It con 
 tinued after the carryall took its place in the long 
 line of vehicles homeward bound. 
 
 Matt bore no part in the discussion. His head 
 ached, his brain was dizzy with the attempt to 
 adjust and inspect the facts presented to him for 
 the first time. He sat in the dark beside his 
 father while they rolled along the well-known 
 
124 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 road, and the Squire, from the driver s seat, mar 
 shaled his forces against old Jacob, still railing 
 at the innocuous proceedings of the Association. 
 
 Wagons passed them from time to time, or 
 horsemen clattered by. They could see nothing in 
 the velvety blackness of the hot, damp night, but 
 sound was carried far, and the contention of the 
 two men was plainly audible. 
 
 " I wish to gracious they d be quiet," thought 
 Matt irritably. 
 
 He was barely conscious of the feeling before 
 he was pitched forward on his seat. The carriage 
 stood still. 
 
 " What s the matter ? " squealed his father. 
 
 " What are you about ? " came at the same in 
 stant in amazed indignation from the Squire. 
 
 Matt peered forward through the gloom. Two 
 men on horseback had stopped them. Two others 
 on foot were climbing into the front of the car 
 ryall. 
 
 " What do you want ? " demanded the Squire. 
 
 " We want you." 
 
 Matt sprang to his feet, aiming a blow at the 
 nearest assailant. He was immediately seized 
 from behind and held. Other arms grasped his 
 father in their hold. Squire Mayham was lifted 
 from the carriage. 
 
 " Drive on," said Matt s captor in his ear. 
 
 The reins were slipped into his fingers. The 
 men, carrying the Squire among them, seemed to 
 fade out into the darkness. There was no trace of 
 them. 
 
THE CRIPPLE BUSH 125 
 
 " Git ap," called old Jacob quickly. 
 
 Matt transferred the lines to his father. " If 
 you want to desert him, go on," said he. " I mean 
 to see this thing out." 
 
 There was 110 time for further parley. He 
 leaped to the ground, and the horses trotted briskly 
 forward. 
 
 Despite his resolute manner he had no idea how 
 to act. He could not track them by sound on 
 that noisy thoroughfare, nor could he see aught to 
 guide him. And while he hesitated, chance came 
 to his aid. 
 
 " Where did they take him ? " queried a voice 
 at his elbow, low yet penetrating. " I can t see 
 my hand before my face." 
 
 " That s all right," some one else responded. 
 " You go straight ahead. White Cloud told me the 
 Cripple Bush ; just beyond the bridge, he said." 
 
 There ensued a murmur of agreement, then a 
 clatter of hoofs, and away. Matt followed on foot, 
 rejoicing over this information, yet asking himself, 
 as he ran headlong after them, how this thing was 
 to end. What could he do, or he and the Squire, 
 against a mob of men ? But he went on. 
 
 Meanwhile the stout-hearted old gentleman was 
 not dismayed by the situation, nor by the threats 
 his captors poured forth in their flight. 
 
 "You can do no more than kill me," he an 
 swered steadily, " and I would as lief die as live in 
 a world where I could not call my soul my own. 
 If a man cannot speak his mind in a free country, 
 matters have indeed come to a strange pass." 
 
126 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Well, they have," was the Indians reply. 
 
 It appeared that he was to be beaten this 
 refined and delicate old man. His assailants were 
 mad with rage, those rash speeches to Jacob 
 Hager capping the disappointment of the meet 
 ing ; and his coolness served to further incense 
 them. 
 
 " But I shall not give in," he thought. 
 
 They tied him to a tree, and bared his back. 
 Then they left him, while they cut the whips for 
 their purpose. All was hushed and dark about 
 them. All things waited in the stillness. 
 
 Suddenly the clatter of hoofs upon the bridge 
 below rattled out through the air. Men were 
 coming a host of men. 
 
 " It s a rescue ! " shouted an Indian. 
 
 " Run ! " called another. " Run ! " 
 
 The Squire heard that sound, also the patter of 
 their feet over the pine needles as they disap 
 peared. He was left alone. 
 
 Yet not for long. Holding his breath, he caught 
 the inquiries, the astonished question from the 
 newcomers, who had no answer for it. Detecting 
 their errand by their outcry, he did not betray his 
 whereabouts. 
 
 "This can t be the place," said one. "They 
 certainly are n t here." 
 
 " Let s try the other side of the woods," sug 
 gested another. And so they rode away. 
 
 Not all of them went on. One man lingered 
 behind. At least he would try what a call might 
 do. 
 
THE CRIPPLE BUSH 127 
 
 " Cousin Mark ! " He raised his voice in the 
 night. " Cousin Mark, are you here ? " 
 
 " Matt Hager ! Thank the Lord ! " 
 
 He was half fainting, tied to his tree. Yet, as 
 the young fellow darted forward in the direction 
 of that quavering answer, the Squire hurriedly 
 proclaimed, " I did n t give in to them, Matt. I 
 would not, for all their threats, not if they had 
 lashed me into ribbons." 
 
 " Oh, I knew that," Matt replied, his fingers 
 busy with the binding cord. " I knew they could n t 
 frighten you nor make you yield an inch. We 
 Dutchmen understand each other. I was sure of 
 
 you." 
 
CHAPTER XIII 
 
 THE ELOQUENCE OF DEMOSTHENES 
 
 " Wont to do s awa frae me." 
 
 As a matter of course, after that blissful night 
 at church, Phe never entered St. Paul s on those 
 summer evenings, without a furtive survey of the 
 board walk to see if by any happy fortune " he " 
 might be coming thither again, while Matt glanced 
 wistfully up the lane as he passed, longing once 
 more to enter the path that led to Arcady. But 
 likewise as a matter of course, he could not soon 
 repeat so decided a step, and the days went by 
 without another meeting there, without many meet 
 ings elsewhere. These were busy times for the 
 farmers. School had closed, so there was no more 
 fear in Matt s heart of the rivalry of " teacher," 
 who had left town for the two weeks vacation. 
 
 Mr. Rockwell had been a self-assertive candidate 
 for Phe s favor, by virtue of his position elbowing 
 even Demosthenes aside. But now he was out of 
 the field, the young lawyer compelled all things to 
 work for him, practicing on Almiran similar tactics 
 to those that had hitherto kept himself somewhat 
 in the background. Sunday night after Sunday 
 night he was ready, waiting foremost in the line 
 
THE ELOQUENCE OF DEMOSTHENES 129 
 
 of youths edging the platform outside the church. 
 Phosbe could not, without open insult, refuse his 
 offer of escort, and Almiraii asked some other girl 
 as a second choice, or he stalked gloomily over the 
 hill alone. Repeated ill luck worked finally the 
 results Gitty had hopefully foreseen. His ardor, 
 at first stimulated by obstacles, became by de 
 grees impatient, then discouraged. The pendulum 
 of affection, always uncertain in its swing, wavered 
 back to its old position. There was Gitty, faith 
 ful, fond, a little insipid, a little dull, a little plain 
 beside Phe Colton, but true. 
 
 One rainy night, after Demosthenes had eagerly 
 offered the shelter of his covered buggy, and Phe, 
 with palpable reluctance, accepted its protection, 
 Almiran, lantern in hand, stumbled around the 
 corner of the church to the sheds, in a worse 
 humor than was his wont. He was cross, beneath 
 the combined effect of depressing weather, con 
 tinued disappointment, and a headache. He felt 
 forlorn and misused, and backed his horse and 
 chaise out into the summer shower, muttering 
 queer, innocent expletives to himself. Mrs. Col- 
 ton had not braved the storm. Allie was with his 
 father, and Almiran overheard the doctor remark, 
 as the horses took a step or two side by side, 
 
 " Why, little boy, neighbor Finck has n t stopped 
 for us after all. Dominie Lansing must have more 
 than usual to say to-night." 
 
 This gave Almiran an inspiration. Dominie 
 Lansing was the pastor of some one else besides 
 neighbor Finck. If church there were not out yet, 
 
130 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 why should he not confer his society upon Gitty 
 Hager ? 
 
 So it came about that at a moment when, be 
 tween home cares and an untoward love affair, 
 her spirits were at their lowest ebb, the girl had 
 her glimpse of happiness in the sight of Almiran 
 waiting for her at the door. 
 
 He mumbled the customary formula, " May I 
 have the pleasure of your company home ? " And 
 his features wore a generous smile at the dear sur 
 prise his presence must afford her. 
 
 She answered, " Why, certainly," before they 
 lapsed into every-day language. 
 
 " I ve got the chaise at the horse-block," said 
 he. " Come on, and git in." 
 
 Gitty followed, sweeping past the fringe of hu 
 manity selecting its mates, her head high, her face 
 brilliant, no longer neglected, no longer a claim 
 ant upon Mathice s care, or a mere unit among the 
 left-over girls who banded together in sufficient 
 numbers to face the homeward road. Almiran 
 had crowned her with the glory of his choice. 
 
 Phe and Mathice found their one night in fairy 
 land while the world about them was so sweet that 
 it seemed created for a background to delight. 
 Gitty s joy was no less than theirs had been, al 
 though the rain beat in upon her, and she was 
 jolted, through the splashing mud of an ill-made 
 road, in Orrin Sweet s old chaise. Nor did Almi 
 ran lack his share of happiness. He had been so 
 unsettled, so buffeted of late, that the richly gen 
 erous love awaiting him was as the thought of 
 
THE ELOQUENCE OF DEMOSTHENES 131 
 
 home to a tired traveler. He could not shut from 
 his fancy the memory of Phe Colton s face, nor 
 the peculiar quality of her clear voice. But to 
 make the best of substitutes is one of the lessons 
 oftenest to be learned. On the whole, Almiran 
 felt contented with that fate which led him along 
 the pike, in the wet and dirt, with Gitty Hager. 
 
 He was far better satisfied, certainly, than Phe 
 Colton driving beside Demosthenes toward home. 
 She was never at her best with this pompous young 
 fellow. She wondered guilelessly that one so blind 
 to his merits could attract him, and did not guess 
 the depths of Demosthenes conceit. He knew his 
 sister regarded him with awful pride. He saw 
 that the girls of his longest acquaintance consid 
 ered him an altogether superior being. Phe Col- 
 ton, possessing, as he judged, a higher standpoint 
 than most of their companions, must so much the 
 more surely be better qualified to see him in his 
 true light. This was sound reasoning. The diffi 
 culty lay in the difference between Phe s idea and 
 that of Demosthenes concerning his real self. 
 
 He misconstrued as thoroughly Phrebe s silence 
 in his company, her loss of that pretty gayety 
 which he had often marked, from a distance, in 
 her intercourse with the rest of the world. To 
 night she was constrained to the verge of timidity. 
 Her feminine insight warned her something it 
 did not tell her what was in the air. She 
 moved restlessly in the corner of the carriage. 
 
 Demosthenes monologue his usual form of 
 conversation came abruptly to a close. 
 
132 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Don t be afraid of me," said he. 
 
 "Oh, I m not," Phe replied. "I shouldn t 
 think of being afraid of you." 
 
 His face fell. No one quite likes to be told 
 that one is not awe-inspiring. But then Demos 
 thenes did not suppose she spoke the truth, since 
 he was incapable of supposing it. 
 
 " I intended to convey the notion," his rolling 
 voice continued, " that the subject upon which I 
 was about to enter was one which might, at the 
 start, alarm you. Yet I would beg you to give it 
 your most careful consideration. For some weeks 
 I have been revolving the matter in my mind. I 
 believe I read in your manner indications to fill 
 my heart with hope. You are, as yet, a child " 
 
 " Please," Phe interrupted the flow of words, 
 " can t we talk of something besides myself ? " 
 
 Demosthenes bestowed a condescending smile 
 upon the petulance which went to prove his last 
 assertion. " Not altogether," he answered. " We 
 must talk of you and of myself. For, Miss Col- 
 ton, I beg the honor of your hand." 
 
 " What for ? " asked Phoebe. 
 
 " What for ? " The echo was peevish and pro 
 vincial. Like the rest of the world, Demosthenes 
 was in danger, at supreme moments, of reversion 
 to the original type. In another instant he had 
 resumed his throaty richness of utterance. " You 
 evidently misapprehend my meaning," he contin 
 ued. " I am making an offer of marriage. May 
 I trust that you regard my suit with favor ? " 
 
 So utter was his trust that without awaiting the 
 
THE ELOQUENCE OF DEMOSTHENES 133 
 
 form of a reply he thrust out an arm, endeavoring 
 to draw her towards him. With a cry of horror, 
 Phe struggled from his clasp. Pier parents had 
 watched about their daughter, guarding, in an un 
 sophisticated and freer age, her singular innocence. 
 She had not, indeed, foreseen what was coming, 
 nor understood it at first when it came. Now 
 that she saw his meaning, there was roused no 
 spirit of coquetry, no smallest wish to prolong the 
 triumph. She felt only distress and alarm. She 
 wanted to cry, and she wanted her mother. 
 
 " Oh, no ! Oh, no ! " she exclaimed. " I can t 
 listen to you, not for a moment." 
 
 " Ah, you are taken by surprise," was Demos 
 thenes comment. " Shall I wait a little for you 
 to become accustomed to the idea?" 
 
 " I should never become accustomed to it," she 
 answered tearfully, " never in this world. Please 
 don t mention it again." 
 
 " Calm yourself, my dear Phoebe," urged the 
 complacent accents. "You are, as I commenced 
 by saying, but a child as yet. I can readily un 
 derstand how this proposal, from one to whom 
 you have looked up with a degree of fear, it may 
 be, should evoke a deprecating terror. And I firmly 
 believe that, as } ou familiarize yourself with the 
 fact of my deep attachment, you will grow calm 
 beneath it, and arrive at the point where you will 
 softly whisper, Yes, Demosthenes, to my ardent 
 question." 
 
 Phosbe was aghast. The man actually con 
 strued her very dislike into appreciation of the 
 honor he was conferring. 
 
134 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " No," she insisted, with what she supposed was 
 intense earnestness, " I could not say such a thing 
 ever. It is not possible, Mr. Mix." 
 
 That he did not understand her, even then, was 
 due in part to Demosthenes colossal vanity, but 
 somewhat also to the gentle voice and manner 
 which, no matter what her spirit, could not ex 
 press vehemence. This self-satisfied lover heark 
 ened indulgently, and as soon as she ceased speak 
 ing, began in that most irritating of all attitudes, 
 the false assumption of superior knowledge. 
 
 " I see exactly how it is. Don t be distressed, 
 my child. I comprehend the situation. You can 
 not read your own heart " 
 
 " Yes, I can," Phe declared, almost in a wail. 
 "I can read my own heart." 
 
 Demosthenes swept this aside as irrelevant. 
 " But I am content," said he gently, " for I un 
 derstand. I shall wait for you, Pho3be. I shall 
 be very patient." 
 
 " You must not wait ; you need not be patient." 
 
 " There ! There ! We will drop the subject for 
 the present. I had no idea, trust me, of agitat 
 ing you like this. Some time, in the not distant 
 future Helloa, my friend, take care ! I came 
 very near running over you." 
 
 He pulled up his horse, addressing a man plod 
 ding along in the middle of the road, who had paid 
 no attention to their approach. At Demosthenes 
 call, he raised his drooping head, standing a trifle 
 aside that they might pass him. 
 
 " They grope in the dark, without light," said he, 
 
THE ELOQUENCE OF DEMOSTHENES 135 
 
 " and He maketh them to stagger like a drunken 
 man." 
 
 " Oh, it s you, Dan ? " 
 
 " Hold your peace, let me alone, that I may 
 speak, and let come on me what will." 
 
 " Not to-night," Demosthenes responded with 
 a laugh. " Choose some other time and place to 
 speak to us, if you please." 
 
 He drove by the muttering figure at the wayside 
 in the rain. 
 
 " Who was that ? " Phe asked, rather startled. 
 " Is it the carpenter they call Crazy Dan ? " 
 
 " You have heard of him, then ? Yes, that was 
 Daniel Pick. Why, how you are trembling ! " 
 
 Demosthenes was a kindly fellow. He was dis 
 tressed and perhaps somewhat conscience-stricken 
 at her nervous state. " I should have set my offer 
 before her by degrees," he reproved himself. " It 
 was overwhelming." 
 
 The interruption served its purpose as an excuse 
 for one of his interminable speeches, detailing the 
 poor creature s biography, and lasting till Dr. Col- 
 ton s gate was reached. Phe was familiar with the 
 etiquette of the situation. She knew her rudeness 
 in not inviting her escort to stable his horse and 
 come into the house for an hour or two. She told 
 herself desperately that she did not care. She 
 shrank from his ostentatious assistance in alighting 
 from the carriage, and with a hasty " Good-night " 
 ran up the path. But Demosthenes drove away 
 smiling. 
 
 Phe went around the building to the side porch, 
 
136 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 the front door being for ceremonious use alone. 
 Jemima Lane and Henry Fisher had drawn up 
 their chairs just inside the kitchen door, out of the 
 storm, but into the fresher air. They made way 
 for the girl to pass them, and after she had gone 
 on through the dining-room, Henry remarked, 
 
 " Wan t Phoebe kind o agitated ? Seemed like 
 it to me." 
 
 " She was scairt out o her life," was Jemima s 
 contemptuous rejoinder. " No need to put on spec 
 tacles to see that much." 
 
 " What ud she be scairt about ? " 
 
 " Like as not t was that young lawyer Mix. 
 Did n t you hear him callin out good-by at the 
 gate ? If he hain t been makin love to that poor 
 child, I miss my guess." 
 
 Henry gasped under the shock of this informa 
 tion. " Oh, I don t want Phoebe should marry 
 Mossy Mix," said he. 
 
 Jemima gave a sniff of disgust. " I ruther guess 
 not. That conceited, egertistical why, t would n t 
 be nothin short o bigamy for such a man to marry. 
 But Phoebe ain t goin to have him. You neenter 
 worry." 
 
 "Ain t she?" asked Henry, much relieved. 
 " How do ye know ? Did she tell ye ? " 
 
 Jemima shook her head. 
 
 " I don t haf to be told. I guess I ain t so blind 
 yet but I can read the signs. No, ye shan t say 
 another word. And, land sakes ! look at the 
 clock ! It s time you stopped talkin about such 
 foolishness, an took yourself off to bed." 
 
CHAPTER XIV 
 "OUT OF THE WAY" 
 
 It is not the orator s language that matters, nor the tone of 
 his voice ; but what matters is that he should have the same pre 
 dilections as the majority. DEMOSTHENES. 
 
 As the men at Mix s had prophesied, there was 
 a large audience to greet the Anti-rent lecturer 
 in Farley. It surprised Matt to see Dr. Colton 
 with Phoebe, across the little hall, on one of the 
 front benches. But the doctor had some curiosity 
 concerning these agitators, a feeling deepened by 
 the recent arrest of Dr. Bough ton. He wished, 
 moreover, to hear what could be said for the cause 
 which was distracting Eastern New York. He felt 
 for he was a just man that he had not given 
 the matter sufficient consideration to warrant his 
 strong opinions. So he invited his daughter to 
 accompany him to the lecture, thereby delighting 
 the girl, for whom the world was divided, at the 
 time, into places where Mathice Hager was and 
 where he was not. 
 
 She knew he must be here to-night, and after 
 his position in the room had been furtively divined, 
 Phe tried to appear unconscious of his direct gaze 
 and of Demosthenes Mix throwing smiles toward 
 her seat from the conspicuous position he occupied 
 
138 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 near the platform. The young lawyer had been 
 drawn to the meeting by much the same feeling 
 that influenced Phe. The sight of Dr. Colton and 
 his daughter entering the building induced him to 
 follow them. 
 
 " I am not prepared," he argued, " to indorse all 
 that these men stir up in the name of Anti-rent. 
 Yet I may, if I am present, see an opportunity to 
 point out the evils of illegal violence, and thus 
 effect more good than by my attitude in remaining 
 away." 
 
 As all this simply meant that he was going, 
 in any event, but preferred to go with a quiet 
 conscience, it was not strange that Demosthenes 
 complacent expression confronted the speaker, or 
 observed the restlessness, most flattering in his 
 opinion, with which Phe Colton received his glances. 
 
 The lecturer was an ardent young fellow, half 
 educated, quick, but shallow and no logician. 
 
 " He is afflicted with a rush of words to the 
 brain," the doctor criticised under his breath. "If 
 only his were innocent vehemence, I should be 
 rather amused to watch whither it led him." 
 
 " But it is n t innocent," sighed Phe. 
 
 With a show of magnanimity, chances were given 
 for questioning. Demosthenes improved these, to 
 exploit himself before his townspeople in general, 
 and his lady-love in particular. His honest desire 
 was, no less, to enlighten many Downrenters who 
 acted blindly in regard to the legal aspects of the 
 case. Thus, when it was asserted that acts passed 
 in 1779 and in 1789 abolished feudal tenures 
 
OUT OF THE WAY 139 
 
 between private citizens, Demosthenes brought out 
 the fact that landlords had, nevertheless, for years, 
 continued, uncontested, to embody like services 
 and conditions in leases in fee. To the declaration 
 that, by the terms of a perpetual lease, the land 
 lord sold the land, the lawyer inquired if this were 
 an assumption to be reached outside the courts. 
 Upon quotations from Governor Seward s message 
 of 1840, denouncing the prevalence of leasehold 
 tenures as inconsistent with the best interests of 
 the State and contrary to a sound public policy, 
 Demosthenes required information as to what fol 
 lowed the message and the legislature s quickened 
 action. The lecturer blundered over some of the 
 particulars, but was set right by his inquisitor. It 
 was shown that a commission appointed to look 
 into Rensselaerwyck troubles recommended a con 
 ference between landlord and tenants ; that at this 
 time, the Van Rensselaer lawyer offered liberal 
 terms of settlement, and only because the tenants 
 demanded still further generosity did the proposed 
 settlement come to nothing. 
 
 Demosthenes likewise brought out legal opinion : 
 that of Judge Amasa J. Parker, in his charge to a 
 grand jury at Catskill, in the previous September ; 
 and that of Judge Charles J. Ruggles at Kingston 
 but a few months before, wherein he explained that 
 the titles disputed by the Downrenters were of great 
 public moment, and their validity should be rigidly 
 maintained, since all the land titles of the country 
 were derived in a like manner. To the proposition 
 that the State take these lands and dispose of them 
 
140 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 to the tenants, Judge Ruggles had quoted the 
 Constitution of the United States, " No state leg 
 islature shall pass any law impairing the obliga 
 tion of contracts," and had appended to it his 
 own comment, which was repeated by Demos 
 thenes, wagging his large head : " A law to abol 
 ish leases, or to change them into fee-simple 
 estates, against the will of either party, would be 
 absolutely void." 
 
 Phe was distressedly regarding the sullen im 
 patience of the audience, who shuffled their feet 
 during the interruptions, or applauded, with an 
 appearance of relief, the flippant jokes from the 
 platform which essayed to silence Demosthenes. 
 
 " I think," she whispered to her father, " they 
 are very good-natured with Mr. Mix, don t you ? " 
 
 "Yes," he assented, "and contemptuous of the 
 little fellow. If it were n t for that they would 
 have hustled him out of doors at the first word. 
 For Demosthenes has the faculty of saying the 
 right thing in the wrong way invariably." 
 
 Their conversation was under cover of another 
 pause in the lecture. An artificial thirst for in 
 formation seized upon Jury Post, who turned 
 attention from lawyer Mix, raised a laugh for the 
 Anti-renters, and seated himself, grinning at his 
 appreciative comrades. 
 
 " Doc Colton ! " at that moment called a voice 
 from the door. " Doc Colton here ? He s wanted." 
 
 The doctor stooped to grope underneath the 
 bench for his hat. " Confound it ! " he muttered. 
 " Whose baby is teething now, I wonder ? Well, 
 
OUT OF THE WAY 141 
 
 little girl, there is no help for it. You and I will 
 have to go, I suppose." 
 
 Phosbe s face was so disconsolate as to amaze her 
 father. Could she long to stay for more of this 
 wordy duel between bucolic wits ? She rose, per 
 force, to follow him in his difficult passage to the 
 door, but her manner, despite an effort at restraint, 
 was martyr-like, and more and more it puzzled the 
 doctor. 
 
 Demosthenes detected their first movement, has 
 tening to join them. He took the foolish step of 
 attaching himself to Phoabe, while Matt Hager 
 confidently drew the father aside. 
 
 " You are not going home, I trust ? " said De 
 mosthenes in Phe s ear. 
 
 "Yes," she replied coldly. "Father has a 
 call." 
 
 " Must that of necessity take you with him ? " 
 
 " I can be carried home on the way to the 
 patient," Phe answered, still formally. To her 
 self she added, "I wonder what he is saying to 
 father." 
 
 Dr. Colton addressed her just then. " Mathice 
 tells me it is Squire May ham who is ill," he began, 
 frowning anxiously. " I must make as much haste 
 as possible. It is in the opposite direction from 
 our house " 
 
 " Yes, father." 
 
 " So, since Mathice is good enough to propose 
 it, I think, child, I must leave you to his escort. 
 He says he has a horse here, and will see that you 
 get home." 
 
142 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 The two young things exchanged bashful glances. 
 
 "Ah!" Dr. Colton ejaculated inaudibly. "So 
 that is why." And he went away on his errand 
 of mercy alone. 
 
 Demosthenes seemed instantly swallowed up in 
 the crowd. If it were possible for him to be crest 
 fallen, he was crestfallen then. But neither Matt 
 saw him, nor Phoebe. The young man found a 
 place for her on a bench near the door, while he 
 stationed himself at her side. So they waited for 
 the close of the lecture, which, in spite of their 
 apparent attention, might, henceforth, have been 
 in Sanskrit for aught that either understood. 
 
 At last it ended. The customary vote of thanks 
 was taken, the noisy clapping ceased. Phe and 
 Mathice, borne along on a wave of humanity, were 
 swept outside the building. Some gay spirit raised 
 a popular strain : 
 
 " Out the way, old Tobe Snyder, 
 Or I 11 tar your coat, and feather your hide, sir." 
 
 One voice after another joined in. It became a 
 wild chorus. 
 
 " I hate to leave you in this mob," complained 
 Matt tenderly. " Can you stand one side here, on 
 Mix s platform, till I get the horse? I shall be 
 right back." 
 
 " I 11 wait," said Phe. 
 
 Such simple words may mean so much. The 
 two were happy, because they were together. They 
 did not greatly care what was expressed between 
 them. Just this that they might see each other 
 was enough. 
 
OUT OF THE WAY 143 
 
 Matt was as good as his word, and returned 
 directly with Billy from the horse sheds behind the 
 hall. In arms that trembled he lifted the girl into 
 the buggy, and they drove away up the straggling 
 
 street. 
 
 " Out the way, old Tobe Snyder, 
 Or I 11 tar your coat, and feather your hide, sir." 
 
 The hoarse shout was brought to them on the 
 still summer night. Neither listened. The law 
 lessness of the song was set apart, far away from 
 Matt Hager and Phe ColtQn. The silence about 
 them was heavy with significance. They went on 
 together, in a blissful unrest that, finally, wrought 
 upon Phe s nerves. She spoke, utilizing at ran 
 dom the first thought that came to her. 
 
 " It s too bad about the Squire, is n t it ? I m 
 sorry he s sick again." 
 
 " Yes, I m sorry too," Matt echoed. 
 
 Selfish young creatures, their tones showed pre 
 cisely how sorry they were. 
 
 " It s pretty serious," Phrebe pursued, merely 
 to say something. " I heard father telling mother 
 about it, one day. He s such a portly, well pre 
 served old man, he does n t seem like an invalid." 
 
 " Who does n t ? Your father ? " 
 
 " Oh, Matt, how you tease ! You know very 
 well I mean the Squire." 
 
 His silliness served as well as the richest humor 
 to amuse a mood like theirs. Yet neither was 
 heartless, only heart-touched, and Matt went on, 
 "I m afraid it is pretty serious about Cousin Mark. 
 Mother s worried why, we re worried, too, of 
 
144 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 course, Gitty and I, but mother takes it hardest. 
 He s the only kin she has left in the world, and 
 he s always been good to her. My ! how like 
 fairyland the Mayham place used to seem when I 
 was a little lad." 
 
 He sighed over his reminiscence, before noticing 
 that he no longer held Phe s attention. " What s 
 the matter?" he demanded. 
 
 " I don t know. It s just foolishness, I suppose, 
 but " Phe shuddered. " There are men riding 
 up behind us," said she. 
 
 " Of course," Matt answered, " they are going 
 home from the lecture." 
 
 " Do you think it s that ? Are you sure ? I 
 thought I thought it might be they were Indi 
 ans." 
 
 Matt s brown hand, lying on his knee, tightened 
 into a fist. " Why, Phe," he expostulated gently, 
 " you are frightened, I declare. You need n t be 
 frightened, even at Indians, while I am here to 
 take care of you." 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know." To his consternation, she 
 burst into tears. " Don t pay any attention," she 
 sobbed. " Don t notice me. I hate myself to be 
 such a baby. It s just I m worn out with sus 
 pense." 
 
 He saw that this was absolutely true. 
 
 The gallop of horses came nearer. It reminded 
 Matt of the night of his return from the Anti-rent 
 Association meeting. He, too, felt as if these were 
 Indians. 
 
 Several men passed the buggy. Two riders 
 
OUT OF THE WAY 145 
 
 drew rein at the horse s head. They were Almiran 
 Sweet and Omar Mix, as Matt perceived with a 
 distinct sensation of relief. 
 
 Then Omar, in mere pleasantry, reached out a 
 hand and grasped Billy by the headstall. 
 
 " Down with the rent ! " he cried. 
 
 Matt shot a sidelong glance toward Phe. He 
 made no answer to the challenge. 
 
 Omar pushed back his broad-brimmed hat. 
 " It s Matt Hager, is n t it ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Don t you hear ? Down with the rent ! " 
 
 Another second s pause. 
 
 " Down with the rent ! " 
 
 Matt leaned forward. He jammed the whip 
 into its socket, and handed Phe the reins. 
 
 " Up with the rent ! " he said. 
 
CHAPTER XV 
 
 There is not, to my mind, a more woeful or wonderful matter 
 of thought than the power of a fool. JOHN RUSKIN. 
 
 " GREAT Scott, Matt," cried Omar, but in the 
 same hushed undertone. " Somebuddy might hear 
 you. This ain t no time for jokin ." 
 
 " I m not joking," Matt replied. 
 
 Omar quitted the horse s head, riding up close 
 to the carriage side. His face was thrust into 
 Matt s. Their eyes met. 
 
 " Have you turned Uprenter ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Matt. 
 
 His motion in giving Phoebe the reins had been 
 on an impulse to spring to the ground and defend 
 his new position by force. The lines hung supinely 
 in the girl s fingers. Now she suddenly tightened 
 her hold. Seizing the whip she struck Billy 
 smartly on the back. The buggy whirled past 
 Almiran, sitting straight and stern upon his horse, 
 past Omar Mix, dumb with astonishment in the 
 road. 
 
 Phe did not speak. Presently Matt forced 
 himself to say, " That was quick-witted of you. 
 Thank you for pulling me out of the scrape." 
 
 Phe handed him back the reins. " I did it 
 
FATHER AND SON 147 
 
 without thinking^" she answered constrainedly. 
 " It was by a sort of instinct." 
 
 Matt s brain seemed on fire, but his heart was 
 heavy and cold. " What is the matter ? " he de 
 manded fiercely. " I should suppose you, at least, 
 would be glad." 
 
 He found she, too, was aroused to anger. 
 
 " Not if you did it for that reason," she replied. 
 
 There come such times in life, when conven 
 tionalities are torn aside that the brutal truth 
 may be spoken. " Did you imagine," Matt asked, 
 turning toward her, sidewise, on the seat, " that 
 I would throw over my beliefs, or say I did, be 
 cause I wanted to stand well with you ? " 
 
 " Oh, Matt, don t ! " For his low voice was ter 
 rible to hear. " I did think it. Was n t it true, 
 then?" 
 
 There was no trace of shamed vanity in her 
 question. Phe Colton s was so fine a nature as to 
 feel only relief at the knowledge that Matt was 
 superior to this weakness. 
 
 He was too wholly absorbed by his stress of feel 
 ing to heed how she cowered beneath his anger. 
 " Can t even you understand ? " he cried. " There 
 were a thousand things to keep me with the Down- 
 renters : my bringing up and my friends, and 
 and my family. Then there is the pride about 
 giving in. You don t know what that is to a man, 
 and a man with Dutch blood in his veins. And 
 Almiran Sweet sitting there ! But the strongest 
 reason of all was, at first, that I couldn t bring 
 myself to do what I despised somebody else 
 
148 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 for doing ; and, when I had fought that out, that 
 this other would be your side. For it seemed like 
 a bribe to me." 
 
 " I see," said Phoebe simply. " Then what was 
 it that moved you, Matt ? " 
 
 He sighed. " The continual dropping, I guess, 
 that wears away any stone. I ve been disgusted 
 with the prime movers lately, and I never under 
 stood much about the movement. That Associa 
 tion meeting, a while ago, startled me ; I had no 
 notion the case was so weak. I fancied this fel 
 low, to-night, could set it all straight, and I went 
 to the lecture, anxious to be convinced. But see 
 what his arguments were ! Why, even Mossy Mix 
 was too much for him." 
 
 " I think you are a real hero," said Phe eagerly, 
 longing to atone for her injustice, " to take such a 
 stand because it is right, and in the face of the 
 consequences." 
 
 She assumed admiration for his course, yet she 
 shivered at the reflection that here was another 
 victim, besides her father, for the Indians ven 
 geance. 
 
 Matt for his part felt, what men and women 
 must feel again and again as they go through this 
 world together, the subtle difference between the 
 sexes point of view. He began a sentence, and 
 allowed it to trail off into nothing. Of what 
 use was it to speak ? How could he show her that 
 where love kept him back from espousing her 
 cause, the inevitable results had been what lashed 
 him on ? The fear that he should be led by fear 
 
FATHER AND SON 149 
 
 had proved stronger than the dread lest he be 
 persuaded. 
 
 So he appeared merely to shrug away her praise 
 with masculine embarrassment. " Oh, I can get 
 along with whatever happens," he remarked care 
 lessly. " I m big enough to take care of myself, 
 I hope." 
 
 " Won t your father be very angry ? " Phe 
 timidly suggested. 
 
 " If you knew my father as well as I do," was 
 the grim response, " you would n t consider it 
 necessary to ask me that." 
 
 " But Matt ! Suppose he is very angry 
 indeed ? What shall you do ? " 
 
 It was the feminine instinct of protection, weak 
 and yet comforting. 
 
 " Bless your dear heart," exclaimed the young 
 fellow. " I shall get on all right." 
 
 They had reached Dr. Colton s gate. He flung 
 the reins over the dashboard and leaped to the 
 ground. His strong arms stretched up to help 
 Phe. He lifted her, holding her thus for one 
 precious second. Then he set her down tenderly, 
 as if she were frail and might break. 
 
 " Be careful, won t you ? " she murmured en- 
 treatingly. " Don t do anything rash Oh, 
 there comes Allie ! Good-night." 
 
 " I 11 be careful because you asked it, Phe. 
 Good-night." 
 
 Matt found, on reaching home, that the family 
 had all gone to bed, and, relieved that his contest 
 with old Jacob should be that far postponed, he 
 
150 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 stumbled about the dark kitchen (no door was 
 ever locked in Farley), lighted himself a candle, 
 and made his way as noiselessly as possible to his 
 room. Nor did he guess this was the last night 
 he should ever sleep in that little attic chamber. 
 It was characteristic of his narrow, concentrated 
 nature that whereas, two months before, he had 
 undergone the tremor of doubt as to any possible 
 step the Indians might take, now he was openly 
 leaving them, other considerations altogether 
 pressed in to possess his mind. 
 
 Here again the future was impenetrable. There 
 was no foreseeing that, were the deserter not 
 shielded from the visitation of wrath, in any case, 
 he would have been forgotten. Yet so fast did 
 oncoming events press one upon another that this 
 was to solve the difficulty Phe Colton felt and 
 Matt had quite forgotten. 
 
 For another phase of the situation presented it 
 self as morning dawned and he went about his 
 work. On his way to the barn he stopped at the 
 best-room window to fasten a flapping blind. A 
 scrap of white on the front door caught his atten 
 tion. Dim as was the light, this showed forth dis 
 tinct by reason of its singularity. He went close 
 to it and, stooping, examined what it was. A paper 
 had been nailed there while they slept. Matt read 
 its purport, and re-read it. He was so deep in 
 thought that he failed to catch the shuffle of old 
 feet along the grassy footpath. His first intima 
 tion of another presence was the peevish inquiry, 
 " What ye standin there a-gawpin at ? Ain t ye 
 never seen a house door before ? " 
 
FATHER AND SON 151 
 
 " I never saw that on a house door before," 
 said Matt. 
 
 " What is it ? " Jacob pushed closer to the 
 vestibule steps, craning his neck. " What does it 
 say?" 
 
 " That there s to be a cattle sale two weeks from 
 to-day to pay up your back rent." 
 
 " Stop talkin sech fool stuff. Tell me what it 
 says." 
 
 " That is what it says." 
 
 "A cattle sale?" Jacob repeated. "Whose 
 cattle ? " 
 
 " Why, yours." 
 
 " Mine ? " His shrill voice pierced the air. 
 " Well, that is a good joke ! " He laughed a 
 derisive cackle. " I m jest the kind o man to let 
 em sell my cattle. Whose notion is it, anyhow ? " 
 
 " Orson Money s going to do it. But, father, 
 don t you understand ? It s the law." 
 
 " Darn the law. I guess we Downrenters 11 
 see this thing out, law or no law. Well, well, I 
 re lly should like to see Orson Money sellin my 
 cattle." 
 
 " There s one way of stopping it," Matt hinted. 
 " If you should pay the rent " 
 
 His father s howl of rage drowned the sentence. 
 " That s pretty talk from a son o mine. If I 
 don t look out I vum you 11 be gittin some o the 
 new doctor s notions into that thick head o yourn. 
 I seen ye las night. I seen ye. Ye took that 
 girl home, did n t ye ? " 
 
 Matt nodded. 
 
152 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Ye remember what I told ye." 
 
 " You have told me so many things ! " 
 
 " About her : I told ye she should n t never 
 cross my doorsill " 
 
 " Well, has she ? " Matt savagely interrupted. 
 
 " That wan t all. I said ye was n t never to 
 cross her doorsill, nuther. That s what I said." 
 
 " Who has ? " the young man once more de 
 manded. " I never have been inside that house 
 in my life. And now we will leave her name 
 alone, if you please." 
 
 It grew light as they stood on the vestibule 
 steps, facing each other with angry eyes. Matt 
 could see the sneering smile on the withered lips 
 broaden into a laugh. 
 
 " Let s talk about the sale," he suggested. 
 " What about the sale ? " 
 
 " You leave that to me," old Jacob rejoined 
 curtly. " I guess I can see to that. All I ask you 
 is to mind what I tell ye when the time comes." 
 
 Feeling himself the veriest traitor, Matt threw 
 back his head with outwardly his most arrogant 
 air. 
 
 " I can t help you," he said. 
 
 "Ye can t? O course ye can t help me, but 
 jest to do as you re bid. I don t ask nothin more 
 o ye than that." 
 
 "Father, I am sorry," Matt answered, "but 
 even so much I can t do. I will not defy the 
 sheriff." 
 
 Old Jacob raised one hand to his throat. The 
 breath caught there and choked him. 
 
FATHER AND SON 153 
 
 Ye ye vool ! " he yelled. " Pe ye scairt ? " 
 
 " No," Matt steadily replied, " but I think the 
 sheriff is right." 
 
 "Oh, ye to? Oh, ye to? An vot toes I gare 
 vot ye t ink ? It ain t Orson Money. It s t e 
 agend an t e lan lort. T at s vot it is, ye vool." 
 
 " I know all that," was Matt s rejoinder. " And 
 I think the agent and the landlord are right." 
 
 "Pe you an Ubrenter?" shrieked his father. 
 
 He did not believe it even now. His children, 
 their ways of life and thought, were often a puzzle 
 to him. He supposed that JVJathice could explain 
 the apparent inconsistencies of his attitude after 
 some fashion satisfactory to himself, although in 
 comprehensible to his father s seldom tried brain. 
 
 While Matt hesitated to take the plunge, old 
 Jacob repeated with a sneer, 
 
 " Pe you an Ubrenter ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Matt. 
 
 For a moment that burned itself into the re 
 membrance of his son, Jacob Hager neither 
 moved nor spoke. Then he raised his clinched 
 right hand and brought it down upon his thigh. 
 
 " Py de Edernal," he swore, scarcely above a 
 whisper, " you dake dat pack, or I 11 gill you." 
 
 "Father," Matt protested, "I hate to say it. 
 I understand what all this means to us both. But 
 I am a man grown. I have my opinions, as you 
 have yours. I am not a child any more. I am 
 stronger than you, if it comes to that. And I 
 can t be ordered to believe yes or no. I must 
 judge for myself." 
 
154 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Dake pack t em vorts," was the sole reply. 
 " Dake pack t em vorts." 
 
 " I can t. I am an Uprenter." 
 
 Old Jacob leveled his skinny forefinger, point 
 ing to the gate. " T en co," said he. " T is ain t 
 no blace for Ubrenters." 
 
 " Where shall I go ? " asked Matt, not compre 
 hending what he meant. 
 
 " Vot to I gare ? Co to t e tevil, an starve, or 
 peg. I ton t gare. Put co." 
 
 Matt turned toward the house, his proud head 
 stiffly erect. " After I ve said good-by to my 
 mother and Gitty." 
 
 "No, sir, t is mornend. You nefer ender my 
 house acain." 
 
 Matt had, so far, made every excuse for his 
 father s depths of disappointment and surprise. 
 Now this heartless dismissal drove all else from 
 his mind. He wheeled about to the road. Dou 
 bling his right hand into a fist, he smote his thigh. 
 
 " I never shall enter that house," said he be 
 tween his teeth, " until you beg me humbly to 
 come back. You will see that I can be as stub 
 born as yourself." 
 
 His father saw it then. He stood, blankly 
 staring after the tall figure striding away into the 
 distance. His mouth gaped stupidly, his eyes 
 protruded. This was, in truth, a child of his, and 
 he had given his son the nature with which to defy 
 him. 
 
CHAPTER XVI 
 
 SQUIRE MAYHAM 
 
 To wash the hands not only promotes health and clears the 
 sight, but it also, incontestably, cleans them. SAMUEL JOHN 
 SON. 
 
 ON the whole Jacob Hager was well pleased with 
 his action toward his son. He had expressed his 
 anger. He had asserted his authority, putting 
 down the only domestic revolt he had ever encoun 
 tered. The indignation and the sense of wrong 
 sustained him while he assumed Matt s duties, but 
 by the time the chores were done, and he went into 
 the house to breakfast, the burden of his years was 
 heavy, and he, in consequence, in a more cross- 
 grained humor than usual. 
 
 Meals were so informal in the Hager family that 
 neither of the women considered it strange Matt 
 failed to appear with his father. By the time 
 they were ready to leave the table his absence was 
 first remarked. 
 
 " I don t see where Matt is," Gitty complained. 
 " If he supposes I m going to save his breakfast 
 any longer he s mistaken. He takes too much on 
 himself." 
 
 " I should think he would be hungry," the mo 
 therly care was prompted to say. Mrs. Hager 
 
156 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 crossed the room to the window, and searched the 
 side dooryard that led down to the stables. Finally 
 she turned her slat bonnet slowly toward the others. 
 Both she and her husband donned their headgear 
 when they rose in the morning, and only put it off 
 to go to bed again. 
 
 " I can t see him," she fretted. " I can t see a 
 sign of him anywhere." 
 
 Old Jacob was greasing his boots by the fire. 
 He did not lift his head, nor appear to notice what 
 was happening. But this indifference must be of 
 short duration. 
 
 " Father," said his wife, " do you know where 
 Matt is ? " 
 
 " No," he replied in a snarl. 
 
 Gitty detected something wrong. She would 
 have signaled to her mother, were not the older 
 woman beyond considerations of diplomacy. 
 
 "You don t?" she queried, advancing upon 
 Jacob. " Have n t you seen him this morning ? " 
 
 Her husband dropped the boots with a crash. 
 "Yes, I have," said he. "For all that, I don t 
 know where he is now. Lemme alone." 
 
 " I can t see what you mean," Mrs. Hager urged, 
 with the persistency of a weak mind. " Has he 
 gone off anywhere ? " 
 
 " Yes, I tell ye." 
 
 " When is he coming back ? " 
 
 " Never," growled Jacob. " He ain t never 
 comin back." 
 
 Gitty broke into a wail. He cared nothing for 
 that. It was when he saw his wife s thin cheeks 
 
SQUIRE MAYHAM 157 
 
 grow white that for one second his tough old heart 
 was smitten. Then he called his grievances to 
 mind, and was fierce again. 
 
 " Is Matt dead ? " 
 
 He would not have recognized the voice as his 
 wife s. 
 
 " He s worse n dead," he responded. 
 
 " How could he be worse than dead? " 
 
 " He could be, could n t he, if he turned Tip- 
 renter ? " 
 
 He thrust his weazened face toward her, snap 
 ping out the retort. To him it was unanswerable. 
 It was nothing to her. 
 
 " Oh, that ! " she cried, almost with spirit. " Is 
 that all ? Where is he gone ? " 
 
 " I told ye I don t know. What s more, I don t 
 care. It may not be much to you to have a son 
 turn traitor. I ain t built that way. He won t 
 never come under my roof ag in, an so he under 
 stands." 
 
 For the first time in her married life Maria 
 Hager showed a resolute opposition to her hus 
 band. Her limp little figure straightened and 
 stiffened ; her sunken eyes blazed. Her trembling 
 tones were steady for that once. 
 
 " Have you driven my son from his home ? " she 
 asked. 
 
 " Did n t I say so ? " 
 
 " Then say it again." 
 
 " I guess I won t less I wanter." And yet he 
 found himself moving uneasily in his chair. 
 " Who s master here, I d like to know ? It don t 
 make what the women folks think." 
 
158 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Did you drive my son from his home ? " 
 
 A guilty conscience and some natural affection, 
 both for his son and for his wife, gave Jacob a 
 wholly novel sense of discomfort. He rebelled 
 against it, he who was always sure of himself and 
 his deeds, and it served to render his manner the 
 more violent. 
 
 " You keep still," said he. " It don t make, I 
 tell ye, whether this is accordin to your notion or 
 not. I ain t never yet give account o what I done 
 to livin man, an I ruther guess the time ain t 
 come now." 
 
 Maria began to waver. " But, father " 
 
 " Don t ye say another word. Don t ye never 
 bring up that boy s name to me. I don t want to 
 hear no more about him." 
 
 Maria sank into a seat. Resting both elbows on 
 her knees, the bonneted head fell forward on her 
 hands. A choking sob broke the stillness settling 
 down upon the room, where Gitty, awed by the ca 
 tastrophe, was stealing noiselessly about her work. 
 The mother s fire had flared up, and faded out. 
 She was her old, meek self once more. There 
 would be no further resistance. Jacob gathered 
 his boots up into his hands, tiptoeing out to the 
 porch to put them on. Maria sat by the window 
 in lonely grief, and no one intruded upon it. 
 
 Gitty s own heart was very heavy. As soon as 
 she could leave the house, and had seen her father 
 on his way to the distant cornfield, she ran down 
 the path to the barn, and so, through the bars, into 
 the pasture, and to its bordering fence. As she 
 
SQUIRE MAYHAM 159 
 
 had hoped, Almiran was busy in the neighboring 
 lot. He greeted her awkwardly. 
 
 "Have you heard about Matt?" she inquired. 
 
 " Heard about him ? What ? " 
 
 In her preoccupation she did not notice his tone. 
 " Father and he have had a quarrel. We don t 
 know where he s gone. I want you should find 
 out for us." 
 
 Almiran crossed his arms over the hoe-handle. 
 " What was the row about ? " 
 
 " I can t tell you," said Gitty, regarding him 
 piteously. 
 
 " Maybe I can tell you. Was it because he s 
 turned Uprenter ? " 
 
 " Hush ! Don t speak so loud. Whatever made 
 you think of that?" 
 
 " You need n t be afraid of me." He sank his 
 voice, even in that solitude, before he added, " I m 
 consid able of an Uprenter myself." 
 
 " You are ? " His soul smarted beneath the 
 horror that crept into her eyes. " Why, I heard 
 you were one of the Indians," she faltered. 
 
 " I was once. They don t suspect I ve weak 
 ened, but I have. I seen the folly of it long ago. 
 Matt s the only one s found out, and he called me 
 everything he could lay his tongue to. He ain t 
 spoke to me since, neither. You ve seen it, hain t 
 ye?" 
 
 " I saw there was something wrong, I never 
 guessed what. How did you know he d turned ? " 
 
 " I heard him say so," Almiran responded coolly. 
 " I must confess I was tickled, after the way he 
 
160 A DOWNRENTER ; S SON 
 
 laid me out. You d a thought I wan t fit to 
 handle with a pair o tongs. And here he s went 
 an done the selfsame thing himself." 
 
 He perceived that this aspect of the case, which 
 appealed to him peculiarly, had no effect upon 
 Gitty. Like all narrow natures, she went straight 
 to the goal of her first resolve. 
 
 " What I want," she repeated, " is for you to 
 find out where he is." 
 
 Even the bitter fact that Almiran, as well, had 
 joined the Anti-renters was swallowed up in this. 
 
 " All right," he assented reluctantly. " If you re 
 set on it, I s pose I must. But I guess Matt Hager 
 can get along, fur as that goes." 
 
 It was the encouragement Matt had given 
 Phrebe. It was what he told himself, as he strode 
 angrily away from his home at dawn, and had no 
 faintest notion whither he was going. He might 
 obtain a temporary shelter in any of several direc 
 tions, since this was haying time, for which extra 
 men were required. But there was small general 
 demand for workers in that simple community, 
 where most families relied upon " father and the 
 boys " for all manual labor. Dr. Col ton s was a 
 peculiar case, in that his time was too broken to 
 allow him to farm his land himself, and Henry 
 Fisher was among the rare " hired help " of Farley. 
 The Mayham place, of course, stood by itself. In 
 this, as in every instance, the fine old house, in its 
 actual aloofness from village life, typified its own 
 er s attitude. The Squire and Miss A/ubah ruled 
 a little army of servants. Matt thought of their 
 
SQUIRE MAYHAM 161 
 
 home at once, because it had been an occasional 
 haven in a troublous boyhood. But since he was 
 aware that his services could neither be required, 
 nor for kinship s sake refused, pride forbade him 
 to seek a refuge there. He came to the crossroad 
 where in the distance, on the slope of its terraced 
 gardens, he could discern the chimney-stacks of 
 the great stone house. He shook his head toward 
 the pleasant picture they recalled, and resolutely 
 turning his back, marched in the opposite direc 
 tion. 
 
 By that swift, instinctive decision, Matt deter 
 mined his future life. Large issues hung, uncer 
 tain, upon the course he should pursue. Not that 
 he thought of them, nor of anything loftier than 
 his present hunger or his future desperation. 
 Then suddenly, at an angle in the rail fence by 
 the roadside, he came upon the remains of an 
 accident. 
 
 Two horses, thoroughbred, stood looking back, 
 as if in gentlemanly surprise, at a light carriage 
 lurching behind them on three wheels. The fourth 
 lay flat in the dust, its splintered axle thrust ag 
 gressively into the air. 
 
 " Helloa ! " cried Matt. " What s happened 
 here?" 
 
 He gazed about him for the driver, and at first 
 in vain. At last he spied a tall figure huddled 
 close to the fence, prone on a strip of weedy grass. 
 
 Matt s first impression was that the man was 
 dead. It was plain, from the trail left behind him, 
 that he had dragged himself out of the roadway to 
 
162 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 a sheltered spot, as it seemed by the final effort of 
 a will stronger than the body. The young fellow 
 had an unwonted sense of timidity in investigating 
 the case, and advanced reluctantly, to stoop over 
 the stricken form, and lift the face to the light. 
 
 As he did so the heavy eyes opened. 
 
 " Thank God," murmured a spent, tired voice. 
 " I have been praying for help." 
 
 It was Squire Mayham. 
 
 Matt knelt and raised the head and shoulders, 
 that his cousin could rest against him. He loosened 
 the collar and stock, and fanned the purple face 
 with his hat. 
 
 " Let me see," said he presently, after a little 
 reflection. " I guess, Cousin Mark, I can prop you 
 up here against the fence " 
 
 " Don t leave me." 
 
 The childish entreaty struck his heart ; it was 
 so unlike the Squire. 
 
 " I won t go far," he promised. " There s water 
 in that lot yonder, and if I could make you com 
 fortable here, with my coat for a pillow, I d run 
 down, and fill my hat to bathe your head. I think 
 that would do you good. You wouldn t mind, 
 would you? " 
 
 An inarticulate sound seemed to give him per 
 mission. He treated his cousin as a baby, and, dis 
 posing of him in the best manner possible, made 
 the little trip to the creek with all the speed he 
 could use. Meanwhile he watched the road impa 
 tiently for aid. No one was in sight, so, speaking 
 from time to time to the wise horses, who appeared 
 
SQUIRE MAYHAM 163 
 
 to understand the dilemma, Matt rendered such 
 assistance to the sick man as his ignorance and 
 his appliances might afford. The Squire scarcely 
 spoke, nor was he apparently quite conscious of his 
 surroundings. 
 
 The turnpike was a frequented road on a sum 
 mer morning. Presently a teamster, on a buck- 
 board, came rattling into sight. He drew up his 
 horses quickly as he spied the breakdown, and 
 saluted it in the formula Matt had adopted, 
 
 " Helloa ! What s happened here ? " 
 
 Matt answered the call, from the fence where he 
 bent over the Squire. 
 
 " Glad to see you," said he. " Can t you help 
 us ? My cousin is n t feeling very well. I want 
 to get him home." 
 
 The man s neighborly concern met Matt s earnest 
 look, a look that expressed far more than the 
 speech. 
 
 " Why, of course," he agreed genially, swinging 
 himself to the ground. " We 11 have him all right 
 in a jiffy. Where does he feel bad ? " 
 
 Again Matt glanced at him across the prostrate 
 figure. " I guess he must have been thrown when 
 the wagon keeled over," he answered, " and that 
 upset him a little. Was n t that about it, Cousin 
 Mark?" 
 
 " Yes," murmured the old man. 
 
 " Why, I swan to goodness, it s Squire May- 
 ham," exclaimed the farmer. 
 
 " At your service," whispered the husky voice. 
 
 " Well, I declare for it, Squire, I m sorry to see 
 
164 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 you in such a fix," protested the man. " It s too 
 bad. But we 11 git ye home all right. S pose we 
 can use my buckboard ? " The question was ad 
 dressed to Matt. 
 
 " Better than wait here any longer," he replied 
 anxiously. " We must do the best we can, and 
 hurry. The main thing s to put him to bed as 
 soon as possible, and fetch the doctor." 
 
 " I guess that s about it," agreed the other. 
 
 The homeward journey was accordingly made, 
 awkwardly, to be sure, for the farmer led his own 
 team at a slow walk, after he had secured the 
 Squire s horses at the end of the buckboard, yet 
 without causing much additional discomfort to the 
 sufferer, stretched at full length with his head sup 
 ported in Matt s arms. At the gateway which 
 opened upon the curving graveled road leading up 
 to the house, they encountered Joe Murray, who 
 was full of expedients. In a more sophisticated 
 region Joe might have been called the butler. 
 To Farley he was simply " Squire Mayham s black 
 man." He had all the deftness and kindness of a 
 well-trained negro servant, and with his assistance 
 the sick man was carried into the house and up the 
 winding stairs to the great bedroom, where Miss 
 Azubah was bustling about, making all things ready 
 for his comfort. 
 
 " I told Marcus he was n t well enough to drive 
 to town this morning," the little old lady reiterated, 
 in her soft, good-natured voice, as she fluttered 
 around the bed. " It was madness to try it, and I 
 said so. But a man will have his way, and a sick 
 
SQUIRE MAYHAM 165 
 
 man is more obstinate than one that is well. 
 There ! This is what the doctor left for him last 
 night, Mathice. Give him a teaspoonful from this 
 glass." 
 
 Matt, sitting on the edge of the canopied bed, 
 took the goblet Miss Azubah handed to him. 
 
 " Shall I go for Dr. Colton now ? " he inquired. 
 
 " I 11 go," offered the farmer, who lingered by 
 the door. " I can call around there, on my way 
 home. You stay here." 
 
 Matt felt a hand reach from under the counter 
 pane and close upon his wrist. 
 
 " Don t leave me," whispered the Squire. 
 
 He looked toward Miss Azubah. 
 
 " Marcus wishes you to stay," she repeated. " It 
 is best to humor him." 
 
 " That is right," said the Squire. 
 
CHAPTER XVII 
 
 
 
 FAIR WARNING 
 
 My greatest adversaries are young ignorance and old custom. 
 REGINALD SCOT. 
 
 GITTY ran down, the next morning, to that angle 
 in the fence which was her trysting-place. There 
 she found Almiran. 
 
 " Well? " she called breathlessly. 
 
 " It ? s all right. He s at the Mayham place." 
 
 She drew a deep sigh of relief. " Oh, I am so 
 glad ! If you could see mother s face ! Is he 
 going to stay there ? " 
 
 " I guess so. They say the Squire s pretty bad 
 off. Doc Colton was there all night." 
 
 Gitty s animated expression changed instantly. 
 "Who told you so?" 
 
 " Well," Almiran answered slowly, whittling at 
 the fence, " it was just like this. I thought it all 
 over, and I see they d be more likely n anybody 
 else to know where Matt was. So I went over to 
 the Coltons last night, and asked em." 
 
 "Yes," Gitty replied. " Phe Colton would 
 know. She s crazy about Matt." 
 
 Almiran was not only good-natured, but he pos 
 sessed, in a peaceable, phlegmatic soul, what some 
 times serves as tact. He shrank from dissension, 
 
FAIR WARNING 167 
 
 and although the shot struck home, he made no 
 sign. 
 
 "She did act sort of interested," he acknow 
 ledged. " But you see they had n t heard anything 
 was wrong. It seemed natural enough to them Matt 
 should go home with the Squire, and look after him 
 a relative like that. Did I tell you Matt found 
 him in a fit, or something, longside the road ? " 
 
 " Why, no." 
 
 " Well, he did. Doc says he d a died if Matt 
 had n t come along. I guess everybody will hear 
 that part, and not much else. I seen Omar Mix, 
 too, and told him to keep still. Nobody need find 
 out, after all, Gitty, that Matt s an Uprenter. 
 Omar s fixed, and and I spoke to Phe Colton. 
 They were the only ones heard it but just me. 
 Your father ain t likely to spread it, neither. I 
 guess you ain t cause to fret." 
 
 This was true. The tender-hearted fellow had so 
 managed, and circumstances so combined to help 
 him, that Matt s absence from home was regarded 
 as natural and temporary. There was no family 
 scandal to explain. 
 
 Jacob Hager discovered this when he went down 
 to Mix s on an errand rendered necessary by the 
 loss of that son who, he now found, had taken many 
 such duties upon himself. The surly old man had 
 been for years allowed to creep into a selfish se 
 clusion, rarely leaving his home, seldom seeing even 
 a neighbor, and growing constantly more opin 
 ionated, dull, and determined in that retrograding 
 loneliness. He was no favorite. His appearance 
 
168 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 among his fellow-men received small attention. 
 Yet, even so, he saw that his quarrel with his son 
 was not suspected. Believing himself a martyr to 
 the popular cause, he felt that, were the truth 
 known, public sentiment must side with him. It 
 would go far to atone for the silent grief of his 
 wife at home if outside his Brutus-like behavior 
 were approved. But the last straw was added to 
 his weight of wrongs as Adem Mix remarked, over 
 the sugar he was weighing, 
 
 " I suppose Matt will come into every cent of 
 that property now." 
 
 " Huh ? " grunted Jacob, surprised and sullen. 
 
 "Indeed he will," the shopkeeper persisted, in 
 what was intended for reassurance. " It was lucky 
 for you the boy ran against him as he did. The 
 doctor says he d have died where he laid, if help 
 hadn t come pretty soon. Then, having Matt 
 right there in the house so, why, he 11 get every cent 
 of the May ham property. You see." 
 
 Old Jacob clutched at his parcel. " T ain t no 
 ways sure," he returned. This was his first inti 
 mation in regard to Matt s whereabouts. " I ve 
 heard tell, for years, bout that prop ty goin to 
 his wife s folks." 
 
 " Oh, it won t ; not now," Mr. Mix declared. 
 " Blood s thicker than water after all, and, with 
 Matt there, tending the Squire hand and foot, as 
 you may say, I miss my guess if he don t come into 
 the hull of it." 
 
 Jacob scowled, moving toward the door. Adem 
 supposed him unconvinced, and called after him : 
 
FAIR WARNING 169 
 
 " Wait a minute, Mr. Hager. I want to tell 
 you something. I understand the Squire s affairs 
 from A to Z. I and him were schoolmates at 
 school, and he ain t never forgot it. We ve always 
 been first-rate friends." Here Mr. Mix leaned 
 across the counter and lowered his voice, albeit 
 they were alone. " I ve heard him talk about his 
 prope ty." 
 
 Jacob as nearly turned toward him, as nearly 
 met his gaze, as was possible to his awkward man 
 ner. " Then ye ought to know," he snarled, " what 
 they ve said for years : ev ry stick an stun on the 
 place was left to them Western kin o hisn." 
 
 " Yes, yes, Mr. Hager. That s what they ve 
 always calculated. But the Squire wan t ever real 
 easy in his mind about leaving Maria s children 
 next to nothing, for all this was the way he looked 
 at it." Mr. Mix tapped the words out on the coun 
 ter. " Jacob Hager s got enough that s how he 
 reasoned enough, and lots of it. And Mis May- 
 ham s folks were needy. It seemed a kind of duty. 
 He told me so more than once." 
 
 " Well ? " Jacob snapped. 
 
 " Well, times have changed. It can t be more 
 than a week or ten days ago he was in here, and 
 he let fall that Miss Azubah and him were satis 
 fied them Bretts were piling up money hand over 
 fist. Why, they ve sold town lots off o that farm 
 that nobody thought was wuth the taxes, till the 
 Squire he says, near as he can make out, all they 
 got to do in this livin world s just to set still and 
 let the dollars roll in. I bet they re snugger n 
 
170 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 what you be, this minute. Yes, sir, I could see 
 then plain enough he was thinking about Matt. 
 He ain t forgot, neither, that scrape at the Cripple 
 Bush. With your boy right there in the house, 
 don t you see yourself how he 11 come into it all ? " 
 
 " No," Jacob contended, " I ain t no idee he 
 will." 
 
 He fled with this declaration, but it was not the 
 truth. Determined that life must work out all his 
 wishes, he failed, nevertheless, to force the entire 
 belief that Matt could be no gainer by banish 
 ment from home. He assured himself that the 
 Squire was too ill to consider such matters. Yet 
 he knew they would be of the first importance to 
 himself, were it his last hour on earth, and he pos 
 sessed no other standard by which to judge the 
 invalid. He rebelled madly against the notion that 
 his disobedient son had profited by an unfilial act. 
 His lack of imagination, his very denseness of 
 understanding, were all that comforted him. 
 
 " I don t believe it," he repeated over and over. 
 " I don t believe but what the Squire s too sick to 
 do anything. Why, he may die any minute. 1 
 
 So he evaded the facts. 
 
 Neither Adem Mix nor the loungers outside the 
 shop said a word to Jacob of the sale which was 
 to take place in the following week. They were, 
 to a man, sympathizers with his cause, and several 
 among them were Indians. But personally he was 
 disliked in Farley, and it was as Matt s father, or 
 simply as a Downrenter, that they meant to guard 
 his home. 
 
FAIR WARNING 171 
 
 It had been, moreover, deemed expedient to con 
 ceal closely a plan that, defiant as these rebels were 
 become, was the most flagrant outrage against the 
 law in which they had as yet engaged. So Jacob 
 Hager left Mix s, and started upon his homeward 
 road without having received, at this general meet 
 ing-place, any hint as to what should be done to 
 sustain his resistance to the officers. He intended 
 to stand firm, even if he stood alone, but he did 
 not expect it to come to this. He was positive he 
 could count upon the Indians. 
 
 Nor had he reckoned at random. His way led 
 him past Storm Zielle s little whitewashed house, 
 nestling close to the turnpike. A group of young 
 men in the tiny dooryard were teasing Daniel 
 Pick, at work upon the leaky roof, or conferred 
 in an undertone, as was the habit in those days 
 whenever a few friends met together. There was 
 much to say in confidence. 
 
 " Here s old Jacob this very minute," said 
 Storm. " Let s speak to him about it. Shall 
 we?" 
 
 There was a murmured assent. Storm raised 
 his voice. 
 
 " Hey, Mr. Hager ! Step this way. We were 
 just talking about you." 
 
 Jacob paused before the gate. He guessed what 
 was coming, and perhaps one of the hardest tasks 
 of his life was that he should accept it graciously. 
 He had been always a self-reliant, unsocial being. 
 It embittered him that he could not retain his 
 independence here. He who had never shared his 
 
172 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 long prosperity with others must beg them to be 
 partakers in his ill-fortune. 
 
 " Well, boys," said he, " what you want ? " 
 
 "Come here. Come closer," Storm replied, 
 while the others crowded up about the gate. " The 
 walls has ears," glancing towards Dan upon his 
 ladder. " That s right, Mr. Hager. Step right up 
 to the fence. Nobody ain t going to bite you." 
 
 Jacob s eyes flashed at the chuckle that greeted 
 this pleasantry. To one altogether unaccustomed 
 to restraint, his position was torture. 
 
 " Well, well, what ye makin sech a myst ry 
 about ? " he queried, endeavoring to smile. 
 
 " About this sale of yours," whispered Conrate 
 Swart across the gate. 
 
 " What about my sale ? " 
 
 " Is it going to come off ? " 
 
 Old Jacob brought his fist down with a thump 
 upon his thigh. " If I m dead and buried before 
 then, mebbe so. Not if I m above ground, it 
 won t." 
 
 " Good for you," declared an excited chorus. 
 "That s the kind of talk. What you going to 
 do?" 
 
 " Shoot," said Jacob. 
 
 " Good enough," cried the men once more. 
 "You want any Indians happening in? One 
 man or two, if Matt should be there won t 
 be much of a match for the sheriff." 
 
 Did not Jacob Hager realize all that ? 
 
 "Yes," he forced himself to concede. " I guess 
 a few Indians ud come in handy." 
 
FAIR WARNING 173 
 
 " Enough said," Conrate nodded. " Maybe 
 White Cloud can be coaxed to get out some of 
 them. We 11 see." 
 
 He rolled his eyes in the direction of Storm 
 Zielle. It was a boyish understanding that the 
 rightful name of a leader or his subordinates 
 should never be spoken in connection with the 
 maskers. 
 
 " Maybe so," said Storm, whereat ensued an 
 other shout of laughter. 
 
 They had grown unconsciously bolder in their 
 merriment. Every one was startled at the sound 
 of a voice that floated down musically to the group : 
 
 " One woe is past ; and, behold, there come two 
 woes more hereafter. For all they that take the 
 sword shall perish with the sword. Man of sin," 
 Crazy Dan directed a forefinger toward the up 
 raised face of Jacob Hager, " who hath warned 
 you to flee from the wrath to come ? Nay, but 
 except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish. A 
 word spoken in due season, how good it is ! " 
 
 He went back quietly to his task, and the shin 
 gles flew about him as he worked. 
 
 " Gosh," ejaculated Storm beneath his breath, 
 " I never heard him pepper anybody with texts 
 like that before." 
 
 " I guess he s kind of wrought up," Conrate 
 Swart explained. " You see there are all sorts of 
 things in the air. He picks up a little here and 
 a little there, and it excites him. Then all he can 
 do, to let it off, is to gabble Scripture. It sounded 
 real comical, did n t it ? " 
 
174 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " I think it did," Jacob agreed, in most unusual 
 loquacity. " I did n t mind what he said, not a 
 mite. Only I thought it sounded reel comical." 
 
 He turned away from the gate. 
 
 " August fifth ? " observed Storm interrogatively. 
 
 " I guess that s about it." 
 
 " AU right. August fifth it is." 
 
 And Crazy Dan, who called himself the prophet 
 of the Lord, went on with his work, and paid no 
 more heed to them. 
 
CHAPTER XVIII 
 HAGER S SALE 
 
 Revenge being indeed so deeply rooted in human nature that 
 to prevent the excesses of it Almighty God allows not any de 
 gree of it to any man, but says, " Vengeance is Mine." ISAAK 
 WALTON. 
 
 IT was at this juncture that Gitty committed 
 an act whose results were to be found unexpect 
 edly far-reaching. Afterwards she strove to ex 
 cuse her impulse by remembering how alone and 
 how desperate she had been. She could not go to 
 Matt, and brave her father s displeasure. Maria 
 Hager, always compliant, had sunk beneath this 
 last blow to an utterly spiritless creature. The 
 short school vacation was over, but Gitty scarcely 
 felt in a mood for study, and so far remained at 
 home. Outside her family she saw no one except 
 Almiran, and knew no one else (so she told her 
 self now, and told herself vehemently many times 
 thereafter) of whom to ask for aid. Moreover, 
 underneath every other reason, was that sweetness 
 of reliance upon him, of riveting the bond between 
 them by dependence on her side and comfort upon 
 his, of trying his feeling for her by the test of 
 what he would do. 
 
 So she slipped down through the bars to the 
 
176 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 pasture, and at the fence raised the bird call that 
 was grown to be their signal. 
 
 Presently Almiran appeared on the slope of the 
 hill down which Phe Colton had raced on the day 
 when she sought refuge at the Hager homestead. 
 He walked over the ploughed ground, but seemed 
 to be in haste and ran as soon as he came to a level 
 strip. 
 
 " Helloa," said he. " I was lookin for you. 
 Heard about the meetin last night ? " 
 
 " No. Father never tells us anything. I was 
 sure he went to one from the way he acted. Was 
 there a lecturer here ? " 
 
 " That same fellow Mossy Mix talked up to. 
 He come back and held another meetin . I guess 
 it was just to set himself right with the boys here, 
 for they did n t let it git out. They passed the 
 word around among the Downrenters, and nobuddy 
 else went. From what pa says, they must have 
 had a high old time. I got out of it. I did n t 
 go. Your father was there. Pa says there was 
 some talk on the sly about what ud be done at the 
 sale to-morrow. I thought you d be scairt, if you d 
 heard. " 
 
 Gitty leaned forlornly on the fence. " I had n t 
 heard," she answered, " but I m scared. Almiran, 
 what shall we do ? Father s sure to get into trou 
 ble." 
 
 Almiran glanced up sympathetically from his 
 whittling at the rail. Every woman, it is said, has 
 her one moment, if no more, of positive beauty. 
 Gitty s came then. Her eyes were softened and 
 
HAGER S SALE 177 
 
 deepened by sorrow. Her lips wore a wistful ex 
 pression. Her slat bonnet had fallen on her neck, 
 revealing the tendrils of hair that, in the heat of 
 the August morning, curled about her cheeks and 
 temples. 
 
 " By gum, she looks good," Almiran mused. 
 And he forgot Phe Colton s face. 
 
 " What do you want I should do, Gitty ? " he 
 asked gently. 
 
 She wrung her hands. " Oh, I don t know ! 
 What can be done ? That s all I want for you 
 to tell me that." 
 
 " I wish I could," he answered dolefully. " Pa 
 says your father went on like a madman, last night, 
 at the meeting. He declared for it, when Orson 
 Money come to take away his cattle, he d have a 
 gun handy, and if he touched em, he d blow him 
 up sky high." 
 
 " He would, too," said Gitty. " He d do any 
 thing if he was mad. But what shall we do, Al 
 miran ? He must n t be let to act like that." 
 
 " You know the Injuns 11 be there, don t ye ? " 
 
 " I thought likely. Do you suppose they can 
 prevent mischief? " 
 
 " I don t see how." Almiran frowned. He was 
 afraid of what she should ask. 
 
 " Why, by frightening off the sheriff. They ve 
 done it often enough. Oh, Almiran," she gazed at 
 him piteously, " won t you come along with em ? " 
 
 " What for ? " 
 
 He was whittling very fast. He did not care to 
 meet the entreaty of her eyes. 
 
178 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Oh, I don t know ! " The old, familiar, fem 
 inine cry. " I d feel so much safer and more sat 
 isfied if I was sure you was mongst em. Won t 
 you come, Almiran ? Please ! " 
 
 Tiny splinters flew from the weather-stained 
 wood. Almiran s torn hat bent low over his work 
 of destruction. There fell a little pause. 
 
 " If I go," said he at length, without lifting his 
 head, " it 11 have to be in disguise. You under 
 stand that?" 
 
 " Why, certainly. I did n t suppose you d side 
 with us and show your face, so as you could be 
 arrested. I meant just as an Indian." 
 
 " And you remember I m kind of an Up- 
 r enter ? " 
 
 " I remember. But, Almiran, this once ! Please." 
 
 Almiran groaned in spirit, saying to himself that 
 it was after this fashion women regarded a princi 
 ple. " You can ask most anything of em," he 
 concluded, " and you 11 be sure to git it ; any 
 thing but justice. They ain t no idea what that 
 means." 
 
 Gitty leaned on the fence, regarding him ear 
 nestly, magnetically. He twisted his body and 
 limbs about, for a moment of indecision. Then he 
 spoke. 
 
 " Well, well ! Don t say any more about it. I 11 
 come." 
 
 " Oh, you dear Almiran ! " she cried jubilantly. 
 " You re as good as gold. My heart s as light as 
 a feather. I believe everything will go all right 
 after this." 
 
HAGER S SALE 179 
 
 " I m not so sure of that," he replied in a very 
 different tone. 
 
 Before their early breakfast was finished, on the 
 following morning, Gitty saw that men and boys 
 were collecting in groups along their fence, and in 
 the roadway. As the crowd grew, she spoke to her 
 mother. 
 
 "Look at all the folks outside. It makes me 
 ashamed. You d think we had a circus." 
 
 " I don t care," was the dull answer. " I ve got 
 beyond all that. It don t make a mite of differ 
 ence to me. Folks can do just as they please." 
 
 Maria did, indeed, go on, with perfect compo 
 sure, about her daily tasks ; but, no sooner had the 
 older woman disappeared into the milk cellar, than 
 Gitty tiptoed to the front of the house, and peered 
 through the best room s shutters. 
 
 The deputy sheriff and Mr. Van Zandt, the 
 landlord s lawyer, were driving up to the gate. 
 They hailed her father from the step where he 
 had seated himself. 
 
 " Hager," Mr. Van Zandt began, " can t we set 
 tle this business amicably ? Both of us want to 
 be fair, I m sure. Come, now, man, be reasonable. 
 Will you pay the rent ? " 
 
 "Not a grain of wheat," was the instant re 
 sponse. " That s the way I 11 settle." 
 
 " Very well," replied the lawyer. " If that is 
 so, you must take the consequences." 
 
 He seemed worried, however, and Snyder s fore 
 head wore an anxious frown. Old Jacob hugged 
 his knees, rocking back and forth on the step. 
 
180 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 Close beside him lay his rifle. He fully intended 
 to use it, if matters were driven to an extremity, 
 but this he did not consider probable. 
 
 " They re scairt," he told himself. " They 11 
 run like rabbits when they see the Injuns." 
 
 Presently Constable Ecker and the sheriff, Or 
 son Money, rode up and drew their horses by the 
 side of Snyder s buggy. Gitty noticed the four 
 men staring in the direction of the barn. Her 
 father, crouched on the step, grinned as he gazed 
 after them. She ran to a side window, and re 
 versed the shutter slats. She saw eight or ten 
 Indians leave the barn, march down the lane to the 
 road, and, crossing it, proceed through the pasture 
 where the cattle were grazing, to a grove of trees 
 on the rising ground. More followed them, and 
 more, until nearly two hundred men had collected 
 in the wood. 
 
 After a little further hesitation Money and the 
 constable rode along the line of onlookers by the 
 fence. They spoke aside to several who, with 
 marked reluctance, followed them to the bars. 
 Ecker let them down. He and the sheriff rode 
 into the meadow, and the men on foot followed. 
 Mr. Van Zandt and Tobe Snyder came last of all. 
 Immediately the Indians appeared. In single 
 file, each carrying a rifle, the masked men trod the 
 soft grass, in slow procession toward the bars. The 
 hot noon sun fell pitilessly upon their grotesque 
 dress, making of the absurd show an ill-timed 
 jest. Gitty, surveying them breathlessly from her 
 hiding-place, could not believe any serious action 
 
HAGER S SALE 181 
 
 possible to these mummers. " I wonder which is 
 Almiran ? " was her most imperious thought. 
 
 As the men filed down the gentle incline to the 
 fence, Mr. Van Zandt strode toward their leader. 
 " You understand the law " he began. 
 
 " Damn the law," replied Big Thunder. 
 
 " You are aware that you break it by assuming 
 these disguises ? " 
 
 " I say, damn the law. We are here to break it." 
 
 Another Indian impatiently called, " Do you 
 mean to bid on them cattle, Lawyer Van Zandt ? " 
 
 " Yes," he answered promptly. 
 
 " If you do, you 11 be carried home feet foremost. 
 I warn you." 
 
 Van Zandt threw out his hand in angry deci 
 sion. " I shall say no more," he told the sheriff. 
 
 As the Indians came into sight, old Jacob had 
 disappeared into the house. Gitty heard him 
 stamping his way through the buttery, and the 
 slamming of doors as he unlocked a closet there. 
 By and by she spied him coming back around the 
 corner of the vestibule. With one hand he tugged 
 at a pail of whiskey in which a dipper bobbed up 
 and down. In the crook of his left arm he held 
 his rifle. 
 
 He crossed the road with his burden, and passed 
 the pail along the line of Indians. Many drank 
 eagerly. Perhaps some hearts needed strengthen 
 ing, as they began to realize how far they were go 
 ing, pushed on by their leaders, and by the fatal 
 excitement of mere numbers. 
 
 Money now announced the opening of the sale. 
 
182 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 He and the constable, followed by their support 
 ers on foot, rode toward the cattle. The men all 
 looked haggard and distressed. The Indians, at 
 a whispered direction sent from one to another, 
 began to move. 
 
 Ecker was singling out an ox. " Not that one," 
 expostulated the lawyer. " You can t take a beast 
 of the plough." 
 
 " Drive up the cows," ordered the sheriff. " Be 
 quick, Job." 
 
 " All right," said Tobe Snyder. " Here we are." 
 
 He had swiftly collected a little drove of cattle. 
 " Run to the bars," he called to one of the towns 
 people whom they had pressed into their service ; 
 " let em down so as I can git these critters out." 
 
 " Look behind you," said the man in a low voice. 
 
 Snyder glanced over his shoulder. " They mean 
 fight," he muttered to the sheriff. 
 
 The Indians had formed three sides of a square, 
 inclosing the cattle, the two men on horseback, 
 and those beside them on foot. At the first step 
 toward the bars, Big Thunder cried, 
 
 " Drop that ! Don t you touch them rails." 
 
 Ecker at once rode forward. 
 
 "Nor you, either, Job Ecker," added White 
 Cloud. " Don t you dare to let down them bars." 
 
 Money advanced to his side. Tobe Snyder ran 
 between the two mounted men. 
 
 " Shoot the horses ! " Big Thunder shouted. 
 
 " Shoot him ! " called another voice. 
 
 There was an instantaneous report. A volley 
 had been fired. Ecker s horse uttered a frightful 
 
HAGER S SALE 183 
 
 scream and tumbled over, pitching his rider to the 
 ground. Another round of shot followed. Mo 
 ney s horse fell in merciful, instant death. Ecker s 
 was rolling in agony on the grass when it was killed 
 by the second firing. 
 
 " Snyder s down," called some one. 
 
 Half stunned, Money stumbled up from the 
 grass. Ecker was already on his feet. Van Zandt 
 and the others came running together. Tobe 
 Snyder lay on his face. 
 
 The Indians stood motionless. There was no 
 attempt to refire, but Money, completely unnerved, 
 appealed to them over the prostrate body. 
 
 " For God s sake, stop ! " he cried. " Hain t ye 
 done enough ? " 
 
 No one answered. No one moved. 
 
 " He s breathing," announced the lawyer after 
 an awful moment. " I can feel his heart beat. 
 He is n t dead yet." 
 
 A great sigh seemed to go up in a breath of 
 general relief. Several Indians came forward. 
 " Shall we help carry him to the wagon ? " 
 
 They recoiled from the nearer sight of that white, 
 fixed face. 
 
 " There s no carrying him far," Van Zandt an 
 swered curtly. " Take him into Hager s." 
 
 Old Jacob stood outside the bars, his empty 
 pail in one hand, the rifle still hugged in his other 
 arm. He stared stupidly at the ghastly proces 
 sion, moving aside mechanically to allow them to 
 pass. He plucked a follower by the sleeve. " Is 
 he dead ? " he inquired. 
 
184 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Lawyer Van Zandt says not yet." 
 
 " Where they goin ? " 
 
 " To your house. You d better run on ahead 
 and get things ready." 
 
 Jacob s spirits rose as he heard a groan from 
 Tobe Snyder. " I guess I shan t go," he retorted, 
 " not unless I m a min ter." 
 
 He hurried on, nevertheless, to the porch, and 
 raised a cry for his wife. " Here s a sick man," 
 said he. " You hurry an put him to bed." 
 
 Gitty hastened out to join her mother. Old 
 Jacob pushed past them both and shut the kitchen 
 door behind him. 
 
 He sat there, hour after hour, hearing the coming 
 and going of doctors, the arrival and departure of 
 many feet. But he did not move. It was dark 
 before his wife opened the door. 
 
 " That you ? " he asked. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Well ? " A pause. " That man any better ? " 
 
 "No," she said. 
 
 "He ain t? Ishewuss?" 
 
 " No," Maria repeated. " He is dead." 
 
CHAPTER XIX 
 
 BREAKING THE LAW 
 
 " The wrong that amendeth wrong." 
 
 JACOB blinked through the dusk at the figure 
 dimly outlined in the doorway. 
 
 " Ye don t understand who I mean," he said. 
 " I mean Tobe Snyder." 
 
 " Yes, I know. He s dead." 
 
 She added no word to this announcement. Jacob 
 moistened his lips with his tongue. 
 
 " How long sence ? " 
 
 " Not ten minutes ago. I came right here." 
 
 He drew one hand slowly back and forth across 
 his knee. " I did n t s pose he was goin to die." 
 
 Maria affected not to hear this remark. She 
 stood across the room, a wraith in the gathering 
 gloom. " Father," she began, in a high-pitched, 
 wailing tone, " you ve got to run away." 
 
 " What I got o run away for ? " 
 
 She uttered an hysterical scream, then stifled it 
 with her hands over her mouth. " Don t you see ?" 
 she hissed in a sibilant whisper. " You might be 
 hung for this." 
 
 Old Jacob rose stiffly from his chair. " What 
 ud I be hung for ? " 
 
186 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Oh, be quiet ! You ask so many questions ! 
 For killing the sheriff." 
 
 " I did n t kill him." 
 
 " That don t make. I guess you re as deep in 
 the mud as they are in the mire," his wife retorted 
 wearily, custom preserving its familiar expression 
 in this strange crisis. " You got to run away," she 
 repeated inflexibly. 
 
 Old Jacob moved restlessly from side to side, 
 peering about him at the surroundings of his life 
 time, which it needed no light to see. " I don t 
 want o run away," he urged. 
 
 " God help us ! " cried Maria suddenly, with a 
 singular new fierceness. " Can t you do what you 
 don t want to, even to save your life ? You got to 
 run away." 
 
 The persistency of the phrase had at length pen 
 etrated the man s brain. 
 
 " All right," he answered almost gently. " You 
 neenter scold so. I m going." He crossed the 
 room to the door. Maria did not move. 
 
 He lifted the latch. " Good-by," said he. 
 
 Even in his days of wooing uncouth and heav 
 ily facetious, Maria Hager had known him, at his 
 best and his worst, as boy and man, for many years. 
 And to her that farewell was as tender, as unex 
 pected, as a kiss. Surprise silenced her for a sec 
 ond. Then she breathed an answering " Good-by." 
 
 The door creaked and closed. She flung her 
 apron over her head to conceal her face, though 
 she stood alone in the darkening kitchen. 
 
 Meanwhile Jacob pushed on into the night, 
 
BREAKING THE LAW 187 
 
 without a notion in which direction to go, nor of a 
 refuge to seek. His days had been spent within 
 the boundaries of that farm, clinging closer to its 
 seclusion as the years went by. To him, well 
 known as was Farley in one way, in another it was 
 an unexplored region. His instinct was to get as 
 far as possible from home. He followed the path 
 to the barn, and went down the lane to the bars. 
 So he traversed the pasture where Gitty was wont 
 to meet Almiran. He lingered at the rail fence in 
 a childish bewilderment. 
 
 " I vum," said he aloud, " I can t think o any 
 wheres to go." 
 
 The woods on the opposite hill attracted his 
 wandering eyes. " I guess I could hide mongst 
 them trees," he concluded. 
 
 There were nooks, certainly, in which he might 
 be safe from sight. But after he had ensconced 
 himself in the hollow where, two months before, 
 Phe Colton defied the Indians, Jacob found his 
 position as fugitive becoming harder moment by 
 moment. Until this settling himself for the night 
 he had been too flurried, too frightened, to fully 
 appreciate the situation. Now when he endeav 
 ored to rest without bed or cover, when his old 
 bones ached on the rough ground, when he could 
 not sleep for lack of the crude comforts to which 
 he was accustomed, he grew, first self-pitiful, after 
 wards restive, and finally indignant. 
 
 " By gum ! " he ejaculated, sitting upright on 
 the pine needles, " I ain t goin to be treated this 
 way no lo hger. I won t stand it." 
 
188 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 He staggered to his feet, shaking himself like a 
 dog coming out of the water. " I ain t goin to 
 stand it," he repeated. 
 
 But he did not dare go home. 
 
 Phe Colton was gathering huckleberries the next 
 morning on the rocky ledge in her father s wood 
 lot. Her face was distressed. Every one knew 
 by this time of the deputy sheriff s death, that offi 
 cers were scouring the country for those implicated 
 in the murder. As she stripped the berries from 
 the bush she was thinking of Matt Hager as 
 was generally the case but now in the light of 
 his trouble. 
 
 "I wish I could see Almiran," she reflected. 
 " He would tell me all about it. And I don t 
 like to question father." 
 
 A rustling noise in the shrubs near by wrung 
 from her a little scream. 
 
 " Why, how nervous I am ! " she derided herself, 
 and laughed. " One would think I was afraid." 
 
 " Hist," whistled a low voice close to her ear. 
 
 Phe dropped her pail in the start she gave. 
 
 "Who s that?" 
 
 " Hist," the warning voice repeated ; " it s me." 
 
 Jacob Hager thrust his head through a blue 
 berry bush. 
 
 "Oh," cried Phoebe, "what are you doing 
 there." 
 
 " Hidin ," said he. 
 
 " Have they - You don t " She could not 
 finish her sentence. " Were you obliged to leave 
 home, Mr. Hager?" 
 
BREAKING THE LAW 189 
 
 " Yes," he assented gruffly. " Darn sech fool 
 ishness ! T wan t me done it. But for all that, 
 I dassent go back." 
 
 He set this before her in the form of a griev 
 ance. She ignored what he said, and went on to 
 the practical present consideration. " Have you 
 had anything to eat ? " 
 
 " Not a mouffle. Nothin but some berries an 
 a few apples. An them was sour." 
 
 " Wait a minute," the girl proposed. " I 11 run 
 down to the house and get you something." 
 
 " Don t ye tell nobuddy where I be." 
 
 "No, no. Of course not. You can trust me, 
 Mr. Hager. And I won t be gone long." 
 
 She hastened along the ridge, disappearing be 
 hind the trees. Old Jacob lay on his back under 
 the bushes, chewing a wintergreen leaf and, as the 
 summer sunshine soaked into his rheumatic mus 
 cles, entertaining a vague sense of comfort while 
 he awaited his breakfast. 
 
 When Phe returned with her hands full of 
 Jemima s delicious bread and butter, he fell upon 
 it with gusto, and felt, after the last crumb was 
 gone, the reviving courage of a satisfied appetite. 
 
 " Guess I 11 jog along," he announced, rising 
 awkwardly. 
 
 " Where are you going ? " 
 
 " I do know. Somewheres else. This ain t no 
 hidin -place." 
 
 "No," Phoabe agreed, "I don t think it is, 
 myself. Let me see, Mr. Hager you might slip 
 down the back way to our barn." 
 
190 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Cuss a barn ! " Jacob shuffled his feet impa 
 tiently. " Folks are always runnin in an out a 
 barn." 
 
 " Well, that is so. Then there are the woods 
 over here." 
 
 " Oh, damn the woods," cried Jacob in sudden 
 fury. "You jus try sleepin in em once." 
 
 Phe eyed him with a gentle solicitude. A pit 
 eous figure in himself, as Matt Hager s father he 
 appealed irresistibly to her heart. " You want to 
 get under a roof somewhere," she suggested. " Is 
 that the idea ? " 
 
 " I tell ye, you jus try sleepin out o doors." 
 
 " Yes, but then I don t see Oh, Mr. Hager, 
 I know, I know ! " 
 
 " Well, what ? " 
 
 " There s our church, the Episcopal church. I 
 have a key because I attend to the flowers, and 
 we do up Mr. Wakefield s surplice. It would n t 
 be a bit strange for me to go in at any time of 
 day. I can hide you in the pulpit. It would be 
 a lovely place." 
 
 Jacob surveyed her with what closely approached 
 defiance. " How ye goin to git me there ? " he 
 demanded. 
 
 Phe was disconcerted by this objection. " I 
 forgot that part," she acknowledged. " We shall 
 have to ask some help." 
 
 " Don t ye tell nobuddy." 
 
 " Why, Mr. Hager, I was thinking of Almiran 
 Sweet. You would n t mind his knowing, would 
 you?" 
 
BREAKING THE LAW 191 
 
 Jacob hesitated, solely because it was hard to 
 accept a proposition which did not come from him 
 self. Phe considered him merely cautious, and 
 continued, " You see, I could n t go to the church 
 at night. That would look odd. And, as you say, 
 there is danger in taking you there by daylight. 
 But I will lend Almiran my key so that he can 
 smuggle you in, after dark. To-morrow I 11 come, 
 and bring you a basket of food. And we 11 plan, 
 Almiran and I, what next to do. Would n t that 
 be the best way ? Don t you agree to it ? " 
 
 Jacob grumbled, " I guess so." 
 
 " You re not afraid of Almiran ? He would n t 
 tell." 
 
 " No," he replied in the same ungracious fashion. 
 " I can t say as I m afraid of Almiran." 
 
 Supposing Almiran to be enrolled among the 
 Uprenters, Phe never thought of him as having 
 occasion, in his own person, to fear the hand of the 
 law. Jacob, who was ignorant of his defection, 
 was still too bewildered, too self -en grossed, to re 
 member that every man who had sometime fig 
 ured as an Indian might be forced, in this emer 
 gency, to flight. As for himself, Almiran did not, 
 so far, give heed to his own danger. After joining 
 the maskers, he had been excited, swept along by 
 the others. But his rifle was not fired, and per 
 fectly disguised, taking no part in the dispute save 
 that of an onlooker, it never occurred to him that 
 he could be regarded as an accomplice. 
 
 Phe found a temporary resting-place for her un 
 grateful charge, and thereupon took the path over 
 
192 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 the hill by which old Jacob had come to her. At 
 the edge of the woods she turned northward, and 
 climbed a fence defining Orrin Sweet s field of 
 oats. She was pushing her way ruthlessly through 
 the grain when a distant sight attracted her atten 
 tion. Surely it was Almiran s battered hat, his 
 suit of blue jean overalls farther along by the 
 fence. 
 
 She raised her voice in a sweet, shrill halloo. 
 
 " Oh, Almiran ! Oh, Almiran ! Is that you ? " 
 
 At the fence angle where he had given the bird 
 cry that should signal to Gitty Hager, he wheeled 
 about and saw the girl running along the field to 
 meet him. 
 
 " Wait," he called hurriedly ; " I 11 come there." 
 
 " No. You wait." She drew nearer. " This 
 is a good, safe place to talk. We can be sure 
 there is nobody about to listen. Almiran," - she 
 was close at hand, " what do you suppose ? I 
 have somebody up there on the hill. I want you 
 to help me hide him." 
 
 Almiran scowled. This innocent, pure-faced 
 girl, who despised the Indians, who to him had 
 always stood upon a pinnacle above these coun 
 try people himself and the others should not 
 descend to aid Anti-rent now that it was stained 
 with blood. 
 
 " Is it one of them scamps that killed Tobe 
 Snyder ? " he asked. " You know it s against the 
 law to conceal a criminal." 
 
 " Oh, I don t mind that," she answered. " Why, 
 Almiran, it s Mr. Hager ! " 
 
BREAKING THE LAW 193 
 
 The listener s face changed. " Oh, well ! If 
 that s the case I suppose we must do some 
 thing." 
 
 " Yes, and I 11 tell you what." She began her 
 story animatedly. He nodded approval from time 
 to time. 
 
 " I see. I see. That would be all right. We d 
 have to git him out before Sunday, o course. v 
 
 " Of course. This only gives us a few days 
 to look around. Oh, dear ! I wish I could tell 
 father." 
 
 " Don t you tell another soul," was Almiran s 
 admonition. 
 
 " There comes Gitty, this moment," Phe whis 
 pered excitedly. " Could n t we just let her into 
 the secret? They must be in such a state of 
 mind." 
 
 Almiran did not hear the question. He fol 
 lowed the direction of Phe s eyes and watched 
 Gitty s approach. She was coming, he knew, in 
 answer to his summons. His heart sank as he saw 
 her, on her way through the pasture, glance toward 
 them, look again, and stop. She threw back her 
 slat bonnet to stare at the angle of the fence. 
 Then, with a haughty gesture that was like Matt, 
 she turned her back upon them. She would not 
 make three where Phe Colton was one of the two. 
 
 " Gitty ! " Almiran called in desperation. 
 "Gitty! Gitty Hager! Come here." 
 
 She walked straight on, as if she had not heard. 
 He uttered a groan of impotence, and turned again 
 to Phe. 
 
194 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Well, give us the key," he said. 
 
 Early on the following morning, Phe left Henry 
 at the board walk, under the maple trees, while he 
 drove on to Mix s ; and she carried the freshly 
 laundered clerical vestments into the vestry-room. 
 Over one arm hung the snowy linen ; in the pocket 
 tied around her waist beneath her gown was all 
 the food she could take without detection from 
 the pantry. She ran up the steps, and pulled from 
 her recticule the key Almiran had returned to her 
 the night before. With a little thrill of excite 
 ment, she heard it grate in the ponderous lock. 
 
 She entered the building with reverent feet, 
 passing softly down the aisle, in the solemn still 
 ness. Pausing before the rail she spoke. 
 
 " It is I, Phe Colton." 
 
 There was no response. 
 
 She waited for a time, staring at the pulpit. 
 Momentarily she expected to see above it the old 
 hat and the grizzled head. But there was no stir 
 and no sound. 
 
 " Maybe he s asleep," Phe thought. 
 
 She opened the door to the vestry-room, and 
 laid the surplice out upon the table. Then she 
 climbed the narrow flight of stairs. 
 
 " I 11 have to wake him," she said to herself. 
 
 She threw wide the door, and peeped around it. 
 The pulpit was empty. 
 
CHAPTER XX 
 OLD JACOB S MATCH 
 
 " The elementary laws never apologize." 
 
 WE have all sometimes been punished, and 
 have punished others, not because the offense was 
 unpardonable, but because it came as the last drop 
 in a brimming cup of bitterness. Gitty Hager 
 went to the meeting with Almiran, dazed by this 
 new distress, having no one else to whom to look 
 for comfort, feeling it the sole faint ray of happi 
 ness in her despair. To find her rival engrossing 
 Alrniran s attention, beguiling him in this, Gitty s 
 hour of anguish, with her beauty that was too 
 much to bear. 
 
 The girl s tortured soul refused to accept its new 
 burden of jealousy. She retraced her steps with 
 head erect and scornful air. It was only as she 
 drew near home that she began to take another 
 view of the occurrence, and to regret her action. 
 
 " It may not have been so bad, after all," she 
 reflected, with something like insight into the facts. 
 " Phe is real good. Perhaps they were only talk 
 ing over what we could do. And I must see him. 
 I guess I d better run back, after all." 
 
 It was hard for the Hager nature to be placed 
 
196 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 in a position where pity could be meted out, and 
 aid must be implored. Yet there are times so 
 tremendous that they dwarf every ordinary con 
 sideration. Gitty hurried down to the bars, ready 
 to forgive. There she paused. It was too late. 
 Phe and Almiran had disappeared. 
 
 She retraced her steps to the house, to witness 
 her mother s restrained suffering, to plod drearily 
 along the round of housework that must be done, 
 and the tasks she attacked, not because they were 
 necessary, but as serving to tire out the body and 
 so in a measure to relieve the strain upon her mind. 
 
 She saw that the house was watched, and under 
 stood why Almiran could not openly visit them. 
 She had, however, a faint hope that he might take 
 advantage of the darkness to come to them. He 
 must understand, so she said wildly to herself, 
 how dire was their need of counsel. Unwitting 
 what occupied Almiran s time that night, she 
 waited, starting at every sound, throughout the 
 evening, while he was conveying her father to the 
 church, disposing of him there, and hurrying to 
 Phe Colton with the key. When bedtime came to 
 the two lonely women, Gitty s desperation found 
 expression. 
 
 " Mother," she began, " I ve been thinking 
 What if I go over to Cousin Mark s to-morrow 
 morning, and have a talk with Matt ? " 
 
 Mrs. Hager sat on the edge of the box-couch, 
 her hands crossed upon her lap. Gitty suddenly 
 realized that she had never before seen her mother s 
 hands empty and idle. 
 
OLD JACOB S MATCH 197 
 
 " I don t believe it would do any good," she re 
 plied in a flat, monotonous voice. 
 
 " Oh, I don t know ! I could tell him how 
 things were. I could ask him what to do." 
 
 " There is n t anything to do," Maria declared. 
 " We ve just got to stand it. And why does n t 
 Matt come to see us, instead of your running after 
 him?" 
 
 " Why, you remember, mother ! He said he 
 would n t. You don t expect Matt Hager ever to 
 break his word ? " 
 
 Maria moved her head from one side to the 
 other in a fretful gesture, as one might do if tor 
 mented by a cloud of gnats. 
 
 " I don t expect anything but trouble," she 
 lamented, "and trouble right on till I die. I ve 
 always had it, and I suppose I always will." 
 
 " But, mother don t you think it would be 
 better to ask Matt what to do ? " 
 
 " No, I don t. There is n t anything to do. 
 And Matt s real hard to keep away from me, at 
 such a time as this. I don t care, though, if you 
 
 go-" 
 
 Gitty understood this speech. Her mother de 
 sired such relief as lay in scolding, but she did 
 not wish thereby to prohibit any assistance Matt 
 might give them. So the next morning, the girl, 
 after struggling with " the chores," saddled Billy, 
 and rode to the Mayham place. She was aware 
 that the man lounging in the road, near the house, 
 must witness her departure. So she assumed a 
 bold demeanor, and saluted him as she cantered by. 
 
198 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " I m going over to Squire Mayham s. My 
 brother is there, and I want to talk to him." 
 
 The officer nodded. " I do feel for the women 
 folks," he muttered. 
 
 Gitty left her horse with a boy at the stable, 
 and walked, through the sunny paths of the old 
 garden, up to her cousin s door. Miss Azubah had 
 seen her from a window, and appeared between 
 the Corinthian pillars of the high front porch. 
 She stretched out her arms in welcome. 
 
 " You poor, dear child," she exclaimed, kissing 
 the girl on each cheek. " My heart has gone out 
 to you and Maria. How does she bear up? " 
 
 So complex is human nature that Gitty felt a 
 vague but positive sensation of importance, of a 
 theatric quality in the unusual happening, of 
 a pose, miserable, to be sure, and yet of distinc 
 tion. 
 
 " I don t see what we 11 any of us do," she re 
 plied, fanning herself with her bonnet. " Mother s 
 almost crazy. Is Matt in the house, Miss Azu 
 bah ? I d like to see him if I can." 
 
 " He is with Marcus. You know your cousin 
 lies at the point of death." 
 
 This was said with a touch of reproach. The 
 Squire s condition as real a grief as Gitty s 
 had been Miss Azubah s chief interest of late. It 
 seemed hard to see it swallowed up in the greater 
 tragedy of Hager s sale. 
 
 " I declare," cried Gitty, conscience-smitten, 
 " I d clear forgotten Cousin Mark. He is n t any 
 better, then ? " 
 
OLD JACOB S MATCH 199 
 
 " He is weaker if anything to-day. And he 
 won t let Mathice out of his sight. He wanders in 
 his mind. He thinks that Matt is his brother 
 Charles the one that died when he was eleven 
 years old. If Matt leaves the room, he begins to 
 whimper, I want Charlie to come and play with 
 me. The doctor says we must humor him. It s 
 bad for his heart if he s excited. I doubt whether 
 Matt could get away." 
 
 Gitty stood, bewildered, before the fluttering 
 little old lady in her rustling gown and prim lace 
 lappets. It was startling, to her complete pre 
 occupation, to thus discover another household as 
 absorbed in its own affairs. 
 
 " Why, it seems as if I must see him," she 
 faltered. " I don t know, Miss Azubah," with a 
 sob under her voice, "I don t know how to get 
 along, without somebody to talk to." 
 
 " You poor child ! You are worn out. Come 
 into the hall, where it s cool and quiet. And I 11 
 have Joe bring us each a glass of wine. It will 
 do us both good. And then I 11 see. If Marcus 
 should chance to be asleep, perhaps I could call 
 Mathice. But you know it will be a long story. 
 He has n t heard a word." 
 
 Gitty ceased the flapping of her bonnet. " Matt 
 has n t heard ? " she repeated. " Does n t he know 
 about about the deputy sheriff ? " 
 
 " Not yet. You see he has been shut up in that 
 sick-room, where he had no chance to hear." 
 
 The girl sank back in the high, stiff chair on 
 which she had thrown herself. " Oh, well then," 
 
200 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 she exclaimed wearily, " maybe he could n t be 
 spared so long ! I did n t understand. I sup 
 posed you d all be talking about it over here, the 
 same as everywhere in Farley." 
 
 " You forgot about Marcus Tullius," was the 
 somewhat stern response. " We all have our 
 separate cares in this world. Now sit still, child, 
 and rest. I 11 run upstairs, and listen at the 
 door, while Joe is bringing the wine. I won t 
 be gone a moment. Here s a cricket for your 
 feet." 
 
 In her gentle, motherly fashion, she made her 
 tired guest comfortable before disappearing up the 
 broad, winding staircase to the passage above. 
 Black Joe came, grinning and bowing, to set his 
 silver tray upon the table at Gitty s elbow, and 
 urge its contents upon her with simple kindliness. 
 Miss Azubah reappeared directly. She shook her 
 head as she descended the flight of stairs. 
 
 " He s wide awake." She formed the words 
 noiselessly with her lips. 
 
 Sweetly good as her nature was, it possessed a 
 strain of determination that grows strong in such 
 soil. Gitty saw at once it was useless to press 
 her point. 
 
 So she carried home with her another disap 
 pointment. Night came again to the mother and 
 daughter at the farm, finding them unadvised and 
 uncon soled. 
 
 They sat together in the kitchen, waiting for 
 bedtime, their chairs drawn up before the door of 
 the back porch. Maria s fingers were twisting 
 
OLD JACOB S MATCH 201 
 
 her apron into rolls, Gitty s restless hands were 
 occupied with a piece of knitting. 
 
 "Where do you suppose he is?" the older 
 woman whispered. 
 
 Although both minds were full of Jacob s fate, 
 it was of Almiran that Gitty thought at the mo 
 ment, and she answered upon that impulse. 
 
 " I should n t wonder if he might come in, now 
 that it s got dark. Nobody could see, you 
 know." 
 
 " Do you suppose so ? " Maria questioned 
 eagerly. " I was afraid - It seemed too much 
 to expect." 
 
 " I do expect him," said Gitty sturdily. 
 
 " Oh, well, then There s a step this minute. 
 Gitty Hager, I declare it s his ! " 
 
 She sprang from her chair and stood clutching 
 its back, listening intently. 
 
 " It is," said she. " It s father." 
 
 Gitty, as well, recognized the tread. " Yes," 
 she agreed. " It s father." 
 
 The slow feet pattered along the floor of the 
 porch. Old Jacob appeared in the doorway. 
 
 "Well?" said he. 
 
 " Is that you, father ? " his wife greeted him. 
 
 It immediately became apparent that he had not 
 returned improved in temper. Crowning the de 
 privations which rendered his wanderings beyond 
 that scanty patience to bear, there was the mortify 
 ing consciousness of his folly in coining home. 
 Yet his will and his habit had together been too 
 strong for his common sense. 
 
202 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 * I guess it s me," he snapped, " or all that s 
 left o me. What ye settin right in the way for ? 
 Can t ye let a body in ? " 
 
 He crossed the threshold, and Gitty closed the 
 door. There did not seem much to say. 
 
 " I m most starved," he announced. " Gimme 
 somethin to eat." 
 
 His daughter silently obeyed. She brought him 
 a wooden bowl of suppawn, which he devoured 
 greedily. 
 
 " Where have you been, father ? " inquired his 
 wife at length. 
 
 " The Lord knows," he answered angrily, sput 
 tering over his food. " I been all over. Lived 
 like a dog." 
 
 " Where d you sleep nights ? " 
 
 " I did n t sleep nowheres," he retorted. 
 " Night before last I jest went round and round 
 in Sweetses woods. Couldn t git a wink o sleep. 
 An last night t wan t much better. I was in a 
 meetin -house." 
 
 " You were ? " cried his wife, with growing 
 interest. " Do tell ! " 
 
 "Yes, I was. In the Piscoble meetin -house 
 in the pulpit. But I couldn t rest none. It was 
 kind o turrible ; like bein in a coffin. I got out 
 a window fore daybreak, an back to the woods 
 ag in." 
 
 The women made no comment upon this narra 
 tive. He glanced uneasily from one to the other. 
 " It s ridic lous," he protested. " I did n t shoot 
 Tobe Snyder. I ain t goin to act as if I did. I 
 
OLD JACOB S MATCH 203 
 
 ain t goin to be drove out o my house like a 
 dog." 
 
 Still they said nothing. Again there appeared 
 no need of speech. 
 
 Old Jacob sat, frowning and pouting his lips. 
 " Well, I guess I 11 git to bed," he observed after 
 a moment. " I m beat out. I ain t scurcely 
 closed my eyes sence sence three nights ago." 
 
 Maria Hager gave a little cry. " Three nights 
 ago ! " she repeated. " Oh, if we could go back 
 to three nights ago ! " 
 
 " Shut up," said her husband. 
 
 At midnight Maria was aroused from feverish 
 dreams. There was the movement and the sub 
 dued sound of a wordless struggle going on close 
 at hand. She opened her eyes, and saw the glare 
 of a lantern held before them. She started up on 
 her elbow. 
 
 Orson Money was stationed at the bedside, 
 holding the light. Two other men, young and 
 strong, had seized upon old Jacob. His teeth set, 
 his face distorted with rage, he was wrestling in 
 their grasp, his failing force, weakened by all it 
 had lately undergone, utterly powerless against 
 them. To the submissive, much enduring wife, as 
 she gazed from those set features to the trembling 
 body and the captors who held it fast, one swift 
 thought flew uppermost, over alarm and distress. 
 It was : 
 
 " Jacob Hager, you ve met your match." 
 
CHAPTER XXI 
 
 SON AND FATHER 
 
 The toil on parents spent must ne er be called to mind. 
 
 SOPHOCLES. 
 
 MATT could not remain long in ignorance of the 
 agitation which stirred the countryside. Indeed, 
 Dr. Colton considered it his own duty to enlighten 
 him, and welcomed, on this account also, a decided 
 improvement in his patient. Although he shook 
 his head gravely on finding it was the upper part 
 of the body to which the power of movement had 
 returned, there was an increase of strength, and 
 the Squire s mind seemed clearer, so that the doc 
 tor felt he could appeal to him. 
 
 " Mathice looks pale," he observed, glancing 
 from the sick man to his attendants. " You must 
 give him leave of absence, Squire, so that he can 
 snatch a breath of fresh air now and then." 
 
 The invalid at once displayed that artless self 
 ishness of a frightened man unaccustomed to ill 
 ness. " I like to have him here," he expostulated 
 feebly. " There is no saying at what moment I 
 may require him. I am in a very critical condi 
 tion." 
 
 " Stuff and nonsense ! You are getting better." 
 
 " No, I am not. I might die before night." 
 
SON AND FATHER 205 
 
 This was put forth more for reassurance than 
 assertion, and so his physician understood it. 
 " Why, so might any one of us," he answered 
 cheerily. " I have noticed this fact, Squire, in 
 every instance of a long illness with which I was 
 acquainted. Though the disease may be incurable 
 the patient outlives many a man apparently in 
 robust health. It always happens. It will happen 
 in your case." 
 
 The doctor paused, silenced by a realization 
 that his words meant more than he sought to con 
 vey. Squire Mayham might live to see Jacob 
 Hager die. " I want to take Matt back to Farley 
 with me," said he. " You really must let him 
 off for this one day. There are matters in town 
 demanding his attention." 
 
 " Is it anything about me ? " 
 
 " No, no. You are doing very well. You don t 
 need anything more. This is for your cousin, 
 Mrs. Hager." 
 
 " What is wrong with her ? " 
 
 The question was rather perfunctory. Squire 
 Mayham felt too weak to care much for its an 
 swer. Miss Azubah looked wise and alarmed. 
 Matt stood, wide-eyed, regarding the doctor with 
 amazement. " Is my mother sick ? " he demanded. 
 
 " No, not that I know of. For all that, you 
 ought to go to see her." 
 
 This satisfied the Squire. He moved weakly 
 under his silk counterpane, turning his face to the 
 wall. " Very well. Don t stay long, Matt," said 
 he, and composed himself to sleep. 
 
206 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 In a maze of bewilderment Matt followed the 
 doctor to the hall and down the stairs to the gar 
 den. The absorbing interests of the sick-room 
 had wiped all memory of the sale from his mind. 
 His father was always in one difficulty or another 
 relative to that wearisome story of Anti-rent dis 
 sensions. After years of bickering, Mathice did 
 not suspect, even by the light of the doctor s hint, 
 that matters had at last come to a crisis. 
 
 It was Crazy Dan who enlightened him. The 
 carpenter was at work in the pleasant old flower 
 garden, renewing the rotting props of a grape- 
 arbor. He blinked over his shoulder, in the strong 
 sunlight, at the crunching sound of footsteps on 
 the gravel path. The sight of Matt doubtless re 
 called to him the events of the past few days. 
 Stretching forth one arm in his favorite attitude 
 of harangue, he declaimed, 
 
 " I, even I only, remain a prophet of the Lord. 
 When the word of the prophet shall come to pass, 
 then shall the prophet be known, that the Lord 
 hath truly sent him. One woe is past, and, behold, 
 there come two woes more hereafter. For I the 
 Lord thy God am a jealous God, visiting the ini 
 quity of the fathers upon the children. Blood be 
 upon your own head." He pointed toward Ma 
 thice. " What hast thou done ? The voice of thy 
 brother s blood crieth unto Me from the ground." 
 
 Matt flung back his head defiantly, confronting 
 the lunatic. He was aware that every rambling 
 speech had a certain foundation in fact. " What 
 does he mean ? " he angrily asked the doctor. 
 
SON AND FATHER 207 
 
 " I suppose I am not sure this that has 
 happened to your father." 
 
 "What is that?" 
 
 " He was arrested last night, Mathice. Have 
 you forgotten the sale ? " 
 
 Matt rubbed his forehead, staring at the ques 
 tioner. " I had forgotten. Was there trouble? " 
 
 " Yes, my boy. The very worst." 
 
 " You don t mean " 
 
 Crazy Dan strove to interrupt them here with a 
 further torrent of scriptural quotation. Neither 
 one heeded him. " I mean, Mathice, that the 
 deputy sheriff was killed. They are making ar 
 rests right and left. Your father is among the 
 prisoners, although he declares his innocence." 
 
 Matt s piercing eyes left the doctor s face. He 
 looked about him impatiently, speaking half to 
 himself. " I must go. I must saddle a horse 
 directly." 
 
 " I 11 drive you to town in the chaise." 
 
 " Where is he ? " 
 
 "Why"- The doctor hesitated. "He was 
 taken to jail, you know." 
 
 Matt made no observation upon this reluctantly 
 given piece of news. 
 
 " Will you visit him, or your mother, first ? " 
 Dr. Colton asked. 
 
 " I must go to my father first." 
 
 For in that instant of revelation, when Matt 
 understood how dire was the strait in which Jacob 
 Hager was placed, he felt the tugging of the bond 
 of blood between them. In his father s prosperous 
 
208 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 days, he had known repugnance, anger, hate it 
 self for the man whose name he bore. In old 
 Jacob s degradation, Matt was after all his son. 
 
 So Dr. Colton drove to the county buildings, 
 and left the young man at the door of the jail. 
 " I sincerely trust this may not be as bad as it 
 appears," he said, trying to utter some cheerful 
 speech at parting. "If there is anything I can 
 do at any time, of course you will call upon me." 
 
 "Yes," Matt answered abstractedly, " that s all 
 right. I mean to say I m very much obliged." 
 
 He ascended the steps to the heavy door, feel 
 ing that it all, he and the building and his errand, 
 was part of a hideous dream. It could not be 
 true. It would be comic, if it were not so tragic, 
 that Jacob Hager was here, a prisoner behind the 
 bars, under the charge of murder. 
 
 That sense of the unreal was upon him through 
 out his admission and his conference with the 
 sheriff. The first rough touch of awakening fell 
 as he was led down the little corridor and saw, in 
 passing, that each cell was crowded, that there 
 were familiar faces among those raised to stare at 
 the visitor. He recognized Casper Enpolt, and 
 Jury Post, and Conrate Swart ; " God help us, 
 it s true," thought Matt. 
 
 And henceforth he was wide awake. There was 
 no more room for fancy after his conductor stopped 
 at a steel-barred opening and called, " Jacob Ha 
 ger ! See here. You re wanted." 
 
 For Matt s father, disheveled, fagged, but irasci 
 ble as ever, limped from among the group below 
 
SON AND FATHER 209 
 
 the high window and approached the grating. He 
 gave a grunt at the recognition of his guest. " That 
 you ? " he remarked. 
 
 " Yes," said Matt in his throat. 
 
 He laid one hand against the bars. He wished 
 to touch the prisoner, to show, in some more effect 
 ive fashion than by the poor means of speech, 
 how complete were his sympathy and devotion. 
 
 " What ye gawpin at ? " asked Jacob tartly. 
 " Ain t ye never seen me before ? I swan, ye act 
 so. That s a pretty way to cheer a man up, jes> 
 to stan there, an not to say a darned word." 
 
 " I can t think what to say," pleaded Matt. " I 
 feel so much." 
 
 " Ye might talk about a lawyer. If ye hed a 
 grain o sense, or ever hed hed, you d know I 
 want a lawyer." 
 
 His complaining tone, pitched in the same key 
 in which Matt had often heard him demand a 
 tardy meal, roused the young fellow effectually 
 from his sentimental pose. 
 
 " That s so," said he. " Who do you want, 
 father ? Have you thought ? " 
 
 " O course I ve thought. Them fellows," nod 
 ding his head in the direction of the men whisper 
 ing together beneath the window, " they re all for 
 Lisha B. Gallup. To hear em go on, you d 
 s pose there never was sech another man made as 
 Lisha B. Gallup." 
 
 " Well, father, he is smart." 
 
 It was an incautious recommendation. Old 
 Jacob s resolve to rule had resented the others 
 
210 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 opinions. His son s assertion fired the contrary 
 spirit to immediate action. " I guess Mossy Mix 
 is good enough for me," he remarked. 
 
 " Oh, father ! Why, Mr. Gallup is older ; and 
 he s better read in the law " 
 
 " How do ye know he is ? " 
 
 " I mean, he s had more experience. And then 
 Mossy Mix is always laughed at here " 
 
 " I guess he s good enough for me. Cordin to 
 Adem Mix, he s the smartest lawyer anywheres 
 round. I guess I 11 have Mossy." 
 
 " Oh, of course his family think everything of 
 him. But, father," - Matt uttered a despairing 
 groan, " this is a matter of life and death ! " 
 
 " I don t see how. They can t do nothin to me." 
 
 The grizzled jaw was set. The faded eyes flashed 
 defiance into his. " I tell ye I never did like Lisha 
 B. Gallup. Him an his brother Amos they went 
 to school with me. I never thought much of em. 
 Lisha he was always foot o the spellin class. 
 An I m goin to have Mossy Mix." 
 
 " There are other men we could get " 
 
 " You git Mossy Mix." 
 
 Perhaps he was touched by his son s harassed 
 expression. Perhaps he was grateful for Matt s 
 forgiveness. But as the young man turned, dis 
 heartened, away, his father growled abruptly, 
 " Say ! See here. Come back." 
 
 His voice ceased, and something seemed to choke 
 him. His features worked painfully. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 " You go to Mossy first thing." 
 
SON AND FATHER 211 
 
 " Yes. And then what do you want ? " 
 
 " Ye might," Jacob s fingers clutched convul 
 sively at the bars, " ye might as well go to 
 see your mother." 
 
 Matt faced about, and confronted him. Son and 
 father looked into each other s eyes. " Do you 
 mean," Matt demanded hoarsely, " that you re 
 asking me to go back home ? " 
 
 The fingers quivered in their hold on the steel 
 framework. There was a pause of tremendous 
 effort. "I want ye should tell her how I be," 
 said Jacob finally. "I I Don t ye see I m 
 askin ye ? " 
 
 He struck his thigh with his clinched fist, snap 
 ping out the query in the old contentious tone. 
 Matt recalled his own threat of the morning that 
 he left the farm. His face whitened. His nails 
 dug into the palms of his restless hands. The 
 determined nature struggled against itself. " Fa 
 ther," he announced, " I was going home anyway. 
 I shouldn t have waited for you to ask me. I 
 thank you, though." 
 
 " That s all right," and Jacob shuffled away. 
 
 There was to be one gleam of brightness across 
 this day for Matt. As he went around the farm 
 house, on his way to the kitchen door, he met Phe 
 Colton, hurrying up from the cut cross lots over 
 the hill. They started and smiled involuntarily at 
 sight of each other. " Oh, Matt," cried Phe, " I m 
 so glad to see you ! I came on an errand to Gitty." 
 
 " That was very kind," he answered, " and she 11 
 be pleased. How are you all at your house ? " 
 
212 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 He paused, at the porch step, to put this ques 
 tion. As he had parted from the doctor but two 
 hours earlier, it did not seem one of special mo 
 ment. Yet Phe lingered to answer him. " We re 
 pretty well," she said, curling her bonnet strings. 
 " But then don t think anything about us. I 
 must tell you how sorry I am for you." 
 
 He looked down at her. She looked up at him. 
 
 " Thank you," he whispered. 
 
 " Phe Colton, is that you ? " called Gitty from 
 the milk cellar. " Who s that you re talking to ? " 
 
 "Why, Matt!" 
 
 " Matt ? Is he here ? Mother, here s Matt." 
 
 Maria and her daughter hastened out to greet 
 him, while Phe was vexed that she should have 
 blundered upon such a scene. Nor could she un 
 derstand that, to characters so unused to expres 
 sion, the presence of an outsider was a relief. 
 
 " I thought, at first, it was Almiran," Gitty re 
 marked directly. " Have you seen him to-day ? " 
 She turned almost defiantly upon Phe, who ap 
 peared frightened, and shook her head. " I don t 
 know what to make of it," Gitty continued. " He s 
 always been such a good friend to us. And he 
 ain t been near us since." 
 
 She was beyond pride, beyond even jealousy. 
 She felt only that she must penetrate this mystery 
 of his absence. Phe went up to her, and took her 
 hands. " Oh, my dear," she began, then clasped 
 the girl about the neck, and fell to crying, " that s 
 why I came. Allie just told me. They have ar 
 rested Almiran, too." 
 
SON AND FATHER 213 
 
 But the day s disasters had not yet been counted. 
 So Phoebe found when she returned home that 
 night. She ran back by the same shorter path 
 through the fields, and so down along the blueberry 
 ridge to the barn of her father s farm. 
 
 Here, to her surprise, she found Jemima Lane 
 and Allie driving home the cows. " Why, how is 
 this ? " she asked, standing at the bars. " Where 
 is Henry Fisher ? " 
 
 Jemima strode forward and seized a milk pail. 
 Phe noticed that her eyes were red and swollen. 
 " Henery ain t here," was her curt rejoinder. 
 
 " That s very evident. But what s the matter ? 
 I never saw you out here, Jemima." 
 
 " If ye live long enough, you 11 see more n that 
 to surprise ye. So, Boss ! So, Boss ! I got o do 
 somethin to work off my feelin s. Allie, don t 
 ye try to milk. Ye can t." 
 
 " What is wrong with your feelings, Jemima? " 
 Phe inquired. " I don t understand." 
 
 Jemima regarded her steadily around the side of 
 the cow she was milking. " It s plain ye don t," 
 said she, struggling to keep down a sob with the snap 
 in her voice. " But nobuddy needs a lantern to go 
 out an seek for trouble. What do ye suppose " 
 
 " Why, Phe has n t heard about it," Allie inter 
 rupted. " About an hour ago " 
 
 " You hush, Allie Colton. Let me tell her. 
 What do ye suppose that poor fool s done now ? " 
 
 " What poor fool ? " 
 
 " Henery Fisher. He s went and been arrested 
 for an Injun." 
 
CHAPTER XXII 
 
 ONE SHALL BE TAKEN 
 
 It is not what you lose, but what you have daily to bear that is 
 hard. W. M. THACKERAY. 
 
 THOSE were stirring days for Allie Colton. He 
 was too young to feel the common terror, save as 
 that vague awe and that sense of adventure which 
 are so dear to a child. He liked to bustle into the 
 house with bits of information he had gathered 
 here and there. He liked to evoke his mother s 
 and his sister s cry of dismay, or Jemima Lane s 
 shrill scolding. Dr. Colton was busy in the " sickly 
 season " which late summer was apt to bring 
 throughout the country. He had scant time to 
 give his family, who relied on the officious little boy 
 and his news for the larger part of their knowledge 
 concerning what went on about them. 
 
 Anti-rent meetings throughout the various pa 
 tents were protesting against responsibility for the 
 crime of Hager s sale. The governor had offered a 
 reward for the apprehension of Davit Finck and of 
 that lecturer who incited the men to violence and 
 who undoubtedly had been present at the tragedy. 
 Armed men scoured the country, two companies 
 of volunteers protecting the officers in making their 
 arrests. 
 
ONE SHALL BE TAKEN. 215 
 
 " Jail s chuck full," Allie announced breath 
 lessly. " They ve got to put up a new building. 
 Crazy Dan and a lot of men are at work on it now. 
 You just ought to see em hurry." 
 
 Jemima fell to berating him for tracking up her 
 kitchen floor. 
 
 " And they ve put Omar Mix in jail," he con 
 tinued. " Ain t that dreadful ? A boy not much 
 bigger n me." 
 
 " Pooh ! " cried Jemima. " He s twice as big as 
 you. I wisht you d march right out o here, Allie 
 Colton. You talk so fast ye make a body s head 
 ache." 
 
 She watched for the doctor that night, and, while 
 he was stabling his horse, ran down to the barn, 
 her apron flung over her head. 
 
 " Doctor," she greeted him, " I ve been think 
 ing : Allie says they re put to it for room over 
 there at the jail." 
 
 " Yes," he answered, unharnessing Sam, " I be 
 lieve they are." 
 
 " Why can t Henery Fisher be let out on bail ? " 
 
 The doctor looked around at her quickly. " I 
 doubt whether that is possible. Even if it were, 
 I have n t the money myself." 
 
 " Shucks," said Jemima, " I did n t mean you ! 
 It ain t more n dishonesty, I call it, to do your 
 givin out o another man s pocket." 
 
 " Then what did you mean, Jemima ? " 
 
 " Why, I ve got a little saved up. I reckon it 
 would be enough." 
 
 The doctor hesitated. " I hate to hint such a 
 
216 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 thing, but don t you see you would be certain to 
 lose it ? Henry Fisher is just the sort of fellow 
 to run away." 
 
 Jemima stared at him in wonder. " Why, land 
 sakes," she exclaimed, " that s what I mean ! 
 I d expect him to jump his bail. And goodness 
 knows t would be wuth it, to git the poor fool out 
 o harm s way." 
 
 " Oh, well," said the doctor soothingly, " I ve 
 no idea Henry will be severely punished. I will 
 ask, but I am afraid he must stay where he is. 
 However, the trials begin next week and he is likely 
 to get off easily. Public feeling will be satisfied 
 with revenge before it reaches him. The leaders, 
 Davit Finck and Zielle and old Hager they are 
 the ones to suffer." 
 
 He had given Demosthenes a lift in his chaise 
 that morning, and the young lawyer s despondency 
 oppressed the doctor. Omar s arrest had shaken 
 his brother s nerve, but as Dr. Colton reflected, 
 such egotism should balance that, and he was not 
 prepared for the hints Demosthenes dropped as to 
 his client s case. 
 
 It was a most unfortunate conjunction the 
 obtuse obstinacy of old Jacob forced to mate with 
 the conceit of Mossy Mix. Nothing but a willful 
 holding to his word kept Jacob Hager from repu 
 diating the services so offered. His efforts at re 
 pression, his increasing insight into the power of 
 the law mingled with his contempt for Demos 
 thenes and his undying rage at his confinement, 
 and drove him to a frenzy. 
 
ONE SHALL BE TAKEN 217 
 
 To Matt s surprise his father recalled him one 
 day as he was taking his departure. " Say," he 
 whispered, his face against the bars, " Doc Colton 
 was here to-day." 
 
 " Was he ? " 
 
 " Yes ; to see that hired man o hisn. Say ! He 
 seems like a sensible kind o man ! " 
 
 " I think he is." 
 
 " Say ! Why don t ye tell him what Mossy Mix 
 wants? Hey? See what he says." 
 
 " Very well," Matt agreed. " I will." 
 
 He went out of his way to the doctor s house 
 on the road home to the Mayham place, and was 
 rewarded by finding not only her father, but Phe 
 seated beside him on the front steps. Nor had the 
 older man forgotten the revelation which amused 
 him at the Anti-rent lecture. He made room for 
 their guest and, when Phrebe rose to go as Matt 
 explained his errand, the doctor placed a detaining 
 arm about her. " No, no, stay, child," said he. 
 " I m sure Matt won t mind." 
 
 " I 11 be glad to have her," was the prompt 
 reply. 
 
 Dr. Colton smiled sadly. He felt sorry for Matt. 
 His first impulse was to comfort him. But no 
 proud parent could desire that connection for his 
 only daughter. The smile ended in a sigh. 
 
 " Well, what is it ? " he suggested, to fill a slight 
 pause. " You want my opinion, Mathice ? " 
 
 " Yes, sir. You see it s like this." Matt leaned 
 forward on the lower step to meet the doctor s eyes. 
 His face was white, but he held his head as haughtily 
 
218 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 as ever. " My father is indicted for murder. De 
 mosthenes is afraid he may not be able to clear 
 him, though father swears he never fired his gun. 
 But you know how he talks. He did threaten 
 everything if he or his property was touched. 
 Mossy is scared. I can see that. And he s de 
 termined father shall plead guilty of manslaughter 
 in the first degree." 
 
 There was an instant of strained silence. Phe 
 wondered if Matt knew, since it had grown so dark, 
 that her eyes were wet with tears as she looked at 
 him. I think he knew. 
 
 " It s a desperate fix," said the doctor finally. 
 " I see." 
 
 " Yes, it s desperate," Matt repeated. 
 
 " There s not much evidence, I should judge, 
 against any of the prisoners : I mean, that one of 
 them fired the fatal shot." 
 
 " No, sir. So Demosthenes says. The evidence 
 must be circumstantial, and it s flimsy. But he 
 says, too, that the one thing no case, no matter how 
 strong, can stand, is general sentiment. And that s 
 dead against the Indians at present." 
 
 The doctor rubbed his spectacles with his ban 
 danna handkerchief. " That s so, Matt," he re 
 plied. " Now you want my honest opinion, of 
 course ? " 
 
 " Of course, sir. I m not a baby." 
 
 " Well, then, I do think there will have to be 
 some scapegoats in this affair. It is hard to trace 
 the crime home to any one of those men. Unfortu 
 nately your father was vehement and conspicuous. 
 
ONE SHALL BE TAKEN 219 
 
 And his rifle was at hand where in the confusion he 
 might have shot, although we know he did not be 
 cause he says so. I m afraid Demosthenes is right. 
 The only chance lies in a plea to a lesser offense." 
 
 Matt s brown fingers worked as they clasped 
 about his knee. " Yes, sir," said he quietly. 
 
 " It s best to face the worst, is n t it ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes. Thank you. I 11 tell father." 
 
 Phe felt a desperate need to console him, he 
 seemed so desolate, so alone. " There s just one 
 thing to be thankful for," she interposed, " that 
 you are free of all this of suspicion even. 
 Every one knows you were not there." 
 
 He dropped his head on his hands. " Thankful 
 for that ! " he repeated. " If you could guess the 
 sneak I feel, when I see those poor fellows penned 
 up in jail, and remember how completely I was one 
 with them a little while ago ! It was like cowardice, 
 my not taking part in the sale that Almiran 
 Sweet should be there, and I safe miles away. I 
 hate myself because I stand so far outside it all." 
 
 " That is morbid, my boy," was the doctor s gen 
 tle comment. 
 
 " Oh, I suppose so. These are no times for 
 philosophy." He sat in silence, a moment longer, 
 and then he rose to his feet. 
 
 " Must you go ? " Phe murmured timidly. 
 
 Her father s deep voice began a like sentence of 
 hospitable intention, yet it was the girl Matt an 
 swered. He glanced up at her, standing above him 
 on the step. She wore a white gown sprinkled with 
 little flowers. It was the same dress which had 
 
220 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 brushed against his knee that happy evening in 
 church. With the moonlight around her she 
 seemed robed as a lovely saint. Her pure, sweet 
 face bent toward him and he threw his head back 
 to look at her. 
 
 " Yes, I must go," he answered. " I don t be 
 long to myself any more. Between cousin Mark, 
 and my mother and Gitty, and and father, I am 
 not a free man now." 
 
 " No one of us is free, Mathice," said the doctor. 
 " The uttermost we can hope for is to do good, and 
 not harm, to those with whom we are bound to 
 gether. And that, you know, you do." 
 
 " How is Gitty ? " Phe interpolated nervously. 
 
 He shook his head. " I can t tell. I wish you 
 would go to see her and find out what is wrong. 
 Maybe it s because I don t understand girls, but 
 Gitty seems to me to take all this worse even than 
 my mother." 
 
 " I 11 run over there to-morrow," Phe assured 
 him. But she was not to keep her word. 
 
 When Matt rode up to the jail on the following 
 morning carpenters were busily raising the new 
 building. Crazy Dan tapped out a blithe tune with 
 his hammer, apparently absorbed in his task. Yet 
 the sight of the young fellow brought up perhaps 
 the last time they had met, in Squire Mayham s 
 garden. He hesitated, feeling for the thread of as 
 sociation eluding his mental grasp. Finally, his 
 eyes on the newcomer tying his horse to the hitch- 
 ing-post, he slowly descended the ladder. 
 
 " Two men shall be in the field ; the one shall 
 
ONE SHALL BE TAKEN 221 
 
 be taken, and the other left. Watch ye therefore ; 
 for ye know not when the master of the house com- 
 eth, at even, or at midnight, or at the cockcrowing, 
 or in the morning ; lest coming suddenly, he find 
 you sleeping. And what I say unto you, I say 
 unto all, Watch." 
 
 He advanced until he stood directly in Matt s 
 path. 
 
 " Yes, yes, Dan," he cried impatiently. " That s 
 so. Let me pass, will you ? I m in a hurry." 
 
 " And they all with one consent began to make 
 excuse. He that hath ears to hear, let him hear." 
 
 " Yes, I understand. Let me pass, that s a good 
 fellow." 
 
 Adem Mix had come up behind them. His 
 worn features lighted in a fleeting show of inter 
 est other than in the affairs of his youngest son. 
 "Don t you see," he observed, "what the poor 
 cuss is trying to tell you ? " 
 
 "No. What?" 
 
 " Do you mean you hain t heard the news ? " 
 
 Matt made an indifferent gesture of dissent. 
 
 " Sho ! I did n t know that. I supposed every 
 body had heard. Why, Dr. Colton died last 
 night." 
 
CHAPTER XXIII 
 
 GITTY SPEAKS HER MIND 
 
 " Is there no death, then, for the spoken word ? " 
 
 MATT stared, as if stupefied. " Why, that can t 
 be," he gasped. " I saw him, myself, last night." 
 
 " Maybe you did. But he was found dead in 
 his bed this morning." 
 
 And already, in that second of time, the fact had 
 become familiar, taking its place among the sorrows 
 which crowded forward insistent to be faced. Matt 
 mourned the wise friend whom he had come to 
 value during the Squire s illness. His heart ached 
 for Phe. Yet the urgent thing was to hurry away 
 with this intelligence to his father, and repeat ad 
 vice which had been among the last words of their 
 counselor. He found Jacob, too, so wrapped in 
 the possibilities of his own affairs as to be beyond 
 caring greatly for what went on outside them. He 
 cried, " I want to know ! " at Matt s announcement. 
 He was most affected, however, by what the doctor 
 had said, listening eagerly and with an outburst of 
 disappointment at its purport. 
 
 " I thought he d tell me to hold on," he con 
 fessed. 
 
 For it seemed impossible to make Jacob Hager 
 
GITTY SPEAKS HER MIND 223 
 
 see his danger. He had so far refused to receive 
 visits from his wife or daughter. That they should 
 be witnesses of his bondage, his humiliation, was 
 too bitter to his pride, and he confidently believed, 
 as he asserted, " T ain t any use. I 11 be out an 
 home ag in fore long." 
 
 Yet, although he despised the fears of Demosthe 
 nes and Mathice, he must listen to those set forth 
 by his fellow prisoners. He noticed that their 
 lawyers were worried. He heard doubts expressed 
 as to whether Storm Zielle s life could be saved. 
 Gradually an undefined dread had crept through 
 the thick vanity of ignorance. Matt perceived the 
 mental struggle, and pushed it on. " Casper and 
 Courate Swart," said he, " and Jury Post are all 
 going to plead guilty to manslaughter. Casper 
 told me so. They think it s their only chance." 
 
 " But I ain t guilty," old Jacob persisted. 
 
 It was evident this was the point of contention, 
 and that he failed to comprehend what the plea in 
 volved. Desperate as they were, Demosthenes and 
 Matt agreed to keep him in ignorance. The awak 
 ening would be frightful, and yet it was better than 
 if it came in time to complicate their only hopes of 
 rescue. " I would n t give that for his life," De 
 mosthenes had declared, with a snap of the fingers, 
 " if he holds out like Zielle and Nicelas Mann. 
 They have n t the ghost of a show." 
 
 "Well," old Jacob slowly decided, eyeing his 
 son, " if the rest is goin to, I s pose I might as 
 well. They ain t any use o my holdin out alone, 
 an bearin all the blame." 
 
224 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " No," Matt assured him eagerly. " You must 
 do the best you can for yourself. Shall I tell De 
 mosthenes you want to see him ? " 
 
 " Ye might," was the grudging concession. 
 
 Possibly Matt was enabled to bear the many 
 cares of this time from their very number, which 
 forced him to go from one to another, and prevented 
 his dwelling upon any single worry. He went from 
 the Squire s sick bed to the jail, from his father to 
 the lawyer, and then to report to Maria and Gitty. 
 Here he learned, concerning Dr. Colton s death, 
 some further details, such as women contrive to 
 gather even from isolation. " The funeral s to be 
 at the Episcopal church," his sister told him, " on 
 Thursday at four o clock. You going? " 
 
 " Why, yes," he said instantly, " we must go. 
 I don t quite see how I m to take the time, but I 
 shall." 
 
 Gitty fell to crying. " If your mind is set on it," 
 she whimpered, " I suppose it s got to be. Any 
 body d think, though, I had enough to stand, with 
 out getting harrowed up by a funeral." 
 
 Her mother, staring listlessly from the window, 
 moved her head slightly at that. " Anybody d 
 think," she retorted, " you might have more feeling 
 for a girl that s lost her father." 
 
 This reproach served to increase Gitty s tears, 
 and distracted Matt by a scene of hysteria. Nev 
 ertheless his sister promised to accompany him to 
 the church on Thursday. 
 
 It was the one way he knew of showing his sym 
 pathy. To write a note, or to send flowers to the 
 
225 
 
 mourning family, lay beyond his experience. At 
 tendance at a funeral was common neighborliness, 
 and the little church was- crowded that summer 
 afternoon. With all the distractions of the past 
 three weeks, a death so sudden, and of so popular 
 a man, stirred the entire community. There was, 
 likewise, some slight curiosity. Many of those 
 present were unaccustomed to a church funeral, or 
 to the Episcopal service. They had hearkened to 
 strange stories of what happened within those walls, 
 and here was an opportunity to verify them. 
 
 The congregation to which Matt belonged was 
 not one requiring a high order of intelligence nor 
 culture in its head. The young man had often 
 heard from a coffin-side confidential and collo 
 quial prayers, with private matters dragged ruth 
 lessly into an interminable sermon. He possessed 
 no knowledge of such majesty, such reverent 
 beauty, as opened out before him to-day. 
 
 He was startled by Mr. Wakefield s appearance, 
 his slow walk to the door. He did not guess what 
 it signified. He caught the roll of wheels outside, 
 and the heavy tread of feet. There followed a 
 little silence, and then those words that have 
 thrilled the heart throughout centuries of woe 
 pierced the breathless hush : 
 
 " I am the Resurrection and the Life, saith the 
 Lord." 
 
 Gitty noticed that those about her rose. She 
 sprang to her feet, and her brother followed. The 
 white-robed figure passed them, leading the bear 
 ers with the coffin. 
 
226 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 Matt s gaze fell for an instant pityingly upon 
 the widow and Allie, who held her hand. But he 
 saw Phe, who followed her mother, and after that 
 he saw no one else. The girl s delicate loveliness 
 was enhanced by her black frock. Her sad face, 
 set in a little white bonnet with its folds of crepe, 
 brought tears to his eyes and a sob to his throat. 
 It was unbearable that she should suffer and he do 
 nothing. 
 
 The sublime sentences rang henceforth upon 
 deaf ears for Matt Hager. He looked straight at 
 Phoebe throughout psalter and lesson and hymn. 
 He prayed for her in the collects, and he followed 
 in the line of wagons to the grave, so absorbed in 
 thought of her that Gitty s well-intentioned com 
 ments struck him as an offense. 
 
 After the committal service, Mr. Wakefield said 
 a few words to the small group of mourners, thus 
 setting the example for others. Matt observed 
 this, and, feeling at his most awkward worst, whis 
 pered to his sister, 
 
 " Go and speak to her while I drive up the horse." 
 
 " I don t want to," Gitty objected shrinkingly. 
 
 " You go on," said Matt. 
 
 " Oh, well ! " She plucked at her courage with 
 both hands and advanced. He watched till he saw 
 Phe turn toward her before he went over to the 
 tree where Billy was tied. 
 
 " What did she say ? " he inquired, after Gitty 
 had taken her seat beside him in the buggy. 
 
 " Nothing much." 
 
 "What did she say?" 
 
GITTY SPEAKS HER MIND 227 
 
 " She just cried a little and so did I. Then 
 she kissed me. Don t she look sweet in black ? " 
 
 " Yes," Matt answered. 
 
 That hour of dignified sorrow, of a grief without 
 tinge of shame, and which could receive such 
 heavenly comfort, was set against the long weeks 
 that followed, ever after in his thoughts. 
 
 The trial of the prisoners began a fortnight 
 after the crime, and continued until October. 
 What hope could be entertained for its outcome 
 must be based upon the fact that the judge was 
 a resident of the county and acquainted with 
 many of the prisoners. His uncle, moreover, was 
 among their counsel. The first charge manifested 
 his strict impartiality, and public sentiment was 
 shown in the jury s verdict against the leaders. 
 Davit Finck had fled the country. Storm Zielle 
 was proved to have been a subordinate chief who 
 was present armed and disguised. Without a par 
 ticle of evidence that he fired a shot he was found 
 guilty of murder. Nicelas Mann, who had been 
 overheard to ask for a ramrod to reload his gun, 
 was convicted with him. They were sentenced to 
 be hanged upon the twenty-ninth of November. 
 
 Besides their families and intimate friends, the 
 court-room was packed during this trial by others 
 desirous to learn from its character what might be 
 expected for the remaining eighty-two prisoners 
 awaiting their turn. Matt peremptorily forbade 
 his sister s presence, and was surprised even in his 
 own discouragement to see the agitation with which 
 she listened to his news each night. 
 
228 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Why, you act worse than mother," he rebuked 
 her. 
 
 Neither could he understand her indifference to 
 his strictures and her persistent appeal that he 
 take her with him " just once " to the jail. Maria 
 Hager had acquiesced in her husband s decision. 
 It seemed an uncalled-for degradation that he 
 should be seen in his abasement by the women over 
 whom he had harshly ruled. But Gitty coaxed 
 and coaxed in vain until the night Matt told her 
 of the first verdict. Thereupon she sprang from 
 her seat. "Now you must take me," she said. 
 " If you don t, I swear I 11 go alone. I will see 
 Almiran." 
 
 " Oh, so it s Almiran ? " Mathice stupidly in 
 quired. " I thought all the time it was father." 
 
 "I don t care what you thought," she answered. 
 And he saw that this was true. 
 
 " All right," said he more gently. " You shall 
 go with me to-morrow." 
 
 The memory of his love for Phe softened the 
 criticism with which merely as a brother he would 
 have regarded her wish. Moreover, these two 
 young people each recognized the occasions when 
 dictum from either must be accepted. Matt had 
 agreed at last, and he took Gitty under his pro 
 tection. 
 
 There were other women in the line of visitors. 
 No one noticed the girl, all being too sadly pre 
 occupied with their own matters. Mrs. Sweet 
 was on the point of leaving her son as they 
 were admitted to the room in the new building 
 
GITTY SPEAKS HER MIND 229 
 
 where many of the last to be arrested were con 
 fined. 
 
 " It s good of you to come to see my boy," she 
 sobbed in her farewell. 
 
 Almiran looked pale and careworn after the in 
 terview. He nodded to them almost abstractedly, 
 Gitty felt, and asked at once of Matt, " What do 
 you think about the verdict ? " 
 
 Evidently he had lost all remembrance of their 
 last conversation. It weighed heavily upon Ma- 
 thice. " Oh, I guess you re all right," he an 
 swered. " I know this : if I could stand in your 
 shoes I d give ten years of my life." 
 
 Almiran s jaw dropped. " Why on earth " 
 
 " When I look back," Matt began with intense 
 bitterness, "to the time you told me you were 
 going to quit the Indians, I feel as if I ought to 
 be hung. That you, after all, should be locked up, 
 and me as free as air ! " 
 
 Sometimes a simple nature goes straightest to 
 the point. Almiran gazed compassionately upon 
 the working features, the clinched hands of his old 
 friend. " Oh, come, now," said he in reassurance, 
 " what good would it do me if you were locked up 
 too ? And I d be here just the same whether you 
 was or not." 
 
 At this Gitty pushed her brother aside. " That s 
 the very thing!" she cried passionately. "Almi 
 ran, I want to talk to you. I want to ask you 
 something. Can you ever forgive me for getting 
 you into this trouble?" 
 
 He regarded her in increasing bewilderment. 
 
230 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Now whatever do you mean ? " he demanded. 
 " You hain t a thing- to do with it, Gitty Hager." 
 
 " I have n t ? You don t intend to say why, 
 Almiran, it s killing me ! How can you forget it 
 was me that begged and implored you to go to the 
 sale ? And you held back." 
 
 " True as you live," he protested with a sickly 
 smile, " I had forgot. You see, Gitty, it was all 
 the same. I should a went anyway." 
 
 " You just tell me that to make me feel better." 
 
 " No, I don t, honestly. I d a been there when 
 the time come because it was your father." 
 
 Their eyes met. Matt turned away. Almiran s 
 fellow prisoners were paying no attention to the 
 low-voiced conference. All this was so soon an 
 old story to them. 
 
 Gitty s lips trembled. They could not form a 
 syllable, and yet they were eloquent. Almiran 
 suddenly beheld himself as a hero. In his sordid 
 and patent peril no consolation could have been so 
 strong. 
 
 "I I can t say anything," the girl stammered 
 at length. " Good-by. You understand." 
 
 " Yes," he answered softly, " I know. Good-by, 
 Gitty. Remember what I told you. I d have 
 went anyhow to the sale." 
 
 She pulled Matt s sleeve to lead him away. 
 Then she gave Almiran one last glance. " I guess 
 I m not likely to forget," she said. 
 
CHAPTER XXIV 
 OLD JACOB S PLEA 
 
 " O worst imprisonment the dungeon of themselves ! " 
 
 SOON after Gitty Hager s visit to Almiran, Je 
 mima concluded to go to see Henry Fisher. " The 
 poor critter 11 think he s forsaken," she told her 
 self in excuse, understanding how he must have 
 relied upon the sight of Dr. Colton each day for 
 encouragement and advice. The shock of the 
 sudden death, the loss of that decided character 
 upon which to lean, would, she knew, fall heavily 
 upon Henry. To console him was a duty so ap 
 parent as to make Mrs. Colton and Phe wonder 
 somewhat why Jemima rendered such elaborate 
 apologies for the expedition. She did not even 
 mentally confess that for her own part she wished 
 a talk with Henry, that she missed the daily com 
 panionship, the echo to her thoughts, the admira 
 tion he gave, and the condescending protection she 
 had extended. 
 
 Still, no sooner was she led to the cell where he 
 was confined than she broke in upon his greeting 
 with " Well, I am glad to find ye alone. I did n t 
 expect that. Now we can talk reel comf table an 
 nice." 
 
232 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Yes," said Henry. " We ve been all moved 
 around sence the new buildin was built. Ol 
 Jacob Hager an me is the only ones in here. An 
 his trial s goin on." 
 
 " Well, however," Jemima answered, " I m 
 free to say it s a blessing. Ye 11 want to hear all 
 about the poor doctor." 
 
 " Wan t it turrible ? " Henry exclaimed plain 
 tively. " I declare for it, Jemimy, I boo-hooed jest 
 like an infant. I did so." 
 
 " An small wonder. If ever there was a blessed 
 man gone straight to glory " 
 
 " Jemimy," Henry interposed. " How be they 
 goin to git along ? " 
 
 " Well, there, Henery Fisher," she replied in 
 unaffected admiration, " sometimes you do act reel 
 sensible. They ain t another soul made that re 
 mark to me." 
 
 " I s pose they ain t nobuddy but you an me 
 knows jest how they re sitooated, mebbe." 
 
 " That s it. An that s why it did seem s if 
 I d got o git to he v a talk with you, or else I should 
 give up. You an me are the only ones that under- 
 stan s. Why, Henery, they re in straits : that s 
 what they are." 
 
 Henry blinked his big white eyes. " Ain t they 
 anything they can do ? " 
 
 " Sech as what, pray ? Mis Colton s the smart 
 est woman in Farley, be the other who she may. 
 She can turn her hand to anything. But how much 
 is they here to turn her hand on ? That s what 
 I d admire to know." 
 
OLD JACOB S PLEA 233 
 
 ** That s so," acquiesced Henry as usual. 
 
 " An Phe s capable. But what s it worth ? 
 She can play the instrument " (Jemima referred 
 to a melodeon), " an cook an sew reel well. 
 But who is they in Farley to cook an sew for? 
 You tell me that." 
 
 " I guess you re right," Henry said, shaking his 
 head. Then, from the depth of his sympathy, he 
 ventured an original remark, always dangerous for 
 him. " They re proud, too," he observed. "They 
 would n t like to work." 
 
 Jemima surveyed him in a disdain all too fa 
 miliar. " Much you know about it. They ve got 
 pride, o course. We ve all got it, one kind or an 
 other. Some folks s lies in braggin what they 
 can do, an some folks s in what they can t. Some 
 are proud o seemin better off n what they be, 
 an some in seemin wuss. They s women in this 
 town act as if nobuddy d suspect they was good 
 housekeepers without they stood out in the front 
 yard in a caliker apern with their sleeves rolled up. 
 I always feel as if they re cryin to all an sundry, 
 Jes look a me, how hard I work. That s their 
 kind o pride. Mis Colton s is the sort that keeps 
 herself to herself. It don t poke what she says, 
 nor does, nor thinks in other folks s faces. Ye 
 can call that pride, if you re so disposed. Seems 
 to me it s dignity." 
 
 " All right," said Henry. " Mebbe it is." 
 
 " An as for what they 11 do when s your 
 trial comin on, Henery ? " 
 
 " I do know. Not for sev ral weeks. I guess 
 I ain t in any danger, Jemimy." 
 
234 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 He looked wistfully into her firm, keen face. 
 Both had up to this avoided the topic as one would 
 hesitate to touch a wound. Jemima s attack of 
 desperation found the young man unprepared. 
 " Oh, no, you ain t in a mite o danger," she 
 hastened to assure him. " The doctor tol me so 
 himself." 
 
 " You heard " Henry s voice faltered, his 
 eyes still sought her face " about Zielle an 
 Nicelas Mann ? They re goin to be hung." 
 
 " An no wonder. Ringleaders they were, as 
 you might say. They won t any harm come to 
 you. Don t ye fret." 
 
 The slam of doors interrupted them, the clatter 
 of feet, the approach of men. " What s that ? " 
 cried Jemima, whirling about. 
 
 " Why," said Henry, much surprised as he 
 craned his neck to peer over her shoulder, " it s 
 ol Jacob Hager. How comes it they re bringin 
 him back a ready? His trial can t be through." 
 
 The little figure led between two constables 
 was bent and shaking. Jacob had not spoken 
 since he learned, at the last moment, the conse 
 quences of his plea. He stood listening to the sen 
 tence with jaw dropped and eyes protruding. 
 Matt and Demosthenes Mix, seated side by side 
 close to him, caught but could not translate the 
 wild glance he cast at them. They followed him 
 to the jail without a word to each other or to the 
 doomed man. They looked their consternation, 
 which was too entire for speech. 
 
 Henry shrank to his own side of the cell as the 
 
OLD JACOB S PLEA 235 
 
 other inmate was admitted. Crouching on the 
 edge of his bed he watched furtively the tumbled 
 heap that flung itself on the couch opposite, lying 
 with face buried in the pillow and still never a 
 sound. 
 
 Jemima Lane turned to Matt, all her womanly 
 longing to help showing in her face. " What shall 
 we do ? " he whispered in reply to her look. 
 
 " Tell me what s wrong," was her softly spoken 
 answer. 
 
 Matt tried once to utter words which would not 
 come. It was Demosthenes who said, " He has 
 just learned that he is to be imprisoned for life. 
 He did not understand. It came as a surprise." 
 
 Jemima eyed through twinkling tears the crum 
 pled figure on the bed. " I mistrust his wife is 
 what he wants," said she. 
 
 " Oh, God bless you," Matt answered fervently. 
 " I ve been so confused it was all over so 
 quickly I never thought of that." 
 
 " I 11 go git her," Jemima offered. 
 
 A guard overheard the promise. He followed 
 her to the door. " You had better bring the girl, 
 too," he volunteered. " It is their only chance if 
 they want to say good-by. He will be taken to 
 Clinton in the morning." 
 
 Aghast at this intelligence, which seemed to add 
 frantic haste to her bad news, she drove Sam at 
 the utmost speed she could coax from him, and rat 
 tled up to the door of the farmhouse as the silver 
 bow of a new moon was rising over the woods on 
 the hill. 
 
236 .A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 Gitty ran to the vestibule at the summons of 
 Jemima s loud-voiced " Whoa." Her mother fol 
 lowed her in frightened curiosity. Jemima, climb 
 ing from the chaise, saw the women peering from 
 behind the door ajar. " It s me," she announced, 
 " Jemimy Lane. I live to Mis Colton s." 
 
 A tremendous interest swallows up self-con 
 sciousness. Gitty was no longer bashful or ill at 
 ease. " Oh, yes, I remember," she said, flinging 
 the door open. " Walk in. We re pleased to see 
 you, I m sure." 
 
 Jemima advanced up the path, whip in hand, a 
 threatening figure, if any of the three had thought 
 of the effect. " I can t set," she answered bluntly. 
 " I got o git ye both an take ye back to town. 
 Put on your bunnet, Gitty. Come along, Mis 
 Hager. We mus be quick as ever we can." 
 
 Mother and daughter exchanged glances of tired 
 sorrow. " What is it now ? " groaned Maria Hager. 
 
 "Your husban ud like to see ye. Matt sent 
 me. Ain t that sufficient ? " 
 
 " No. There s something more behind." Gitty 
 had disappeared into the house for her slat bonnet. 
 The older woman was obediently descending the 
 steps, but she paused while she spoke and viewed 
 her visitor with suspicion. 
 
 Jemima reached out her rough hand to take 
 Mrs. Hager s. 
 
 " Well, it s this, if you will have it. He s to be 
 took away to-morrow. You d like to say good-by." 
 
 Maria lifted a quivering face. " Are they going 
 to kill him ? " she asked. 
 
OLD JACOB S PLEA 237 
 
 " No, no. It s only you see Well, he s 
 goin to be put in prison." 
 
 Maria s sigh was of momentary relief. After 
 wards she timidly inquired, " Will it be for 
 long?" 
 
 "Yes, Mis Hager." , 
 
 "How long?" 
 
 " For life." 
 
 Gitty came down the steps in time to hear her 
 father s sentence. It might have been because the 
 finite mind can comprehend only a limited sorrow ; 
 it might have been Jemima Lane s strong nature 
 on which they leaned ; however this was brought 
 to pass, the two weak women showed a power of 
 resistance that amazed their companion. They 
 scarcely once broke down throughout the drive, 
 nor during the slight disturbance their arrival 
 made at the jail. Enpolt and Jury Post and Swart 
 had all been given the like punishment upon the 
 same plea. They were also to be carried to state s 
 prison in the morning. Their families were press 
 ing into the jail. There was an unusual confusion 
 and noise. 
 
 Matt stood in the corridor waiting for them. 
 He took the hand his mother involuntarily ex 
 tended and led her, Gitty following, to the cell. 
 
 Old Jacob lay where he had thrown himself on 
 the bed. He had not stirred. 
 
 " Father," called Matt, " look up. Here s mo 
 ther come to see you." 
 
 Till then he had paid no heed to his son s ap 
 peals. When he learned of Maria s presence he 
 
238 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 turned as by instinct to her sympathy. He rolled 
 himself from the bed and crossed the room to the 
 bars. His wife cried out at sight of his haggard 
 face. 
 
 " Mother," said he hoarsely, " I done it myself. 
 It was my own fault. I would have Mossy Mix." 
 
 They stared at him, his wife and children, as if 
 he were demented. And in truth such an admis 
 sion from such a man implied a mind that was 
 trembling and might fall. 
 
 " Matt warned me," the low voice went on. " He 
 tol me Mossy was a fool. But I would have him. 
 I would n t listen. An now see what they done 
 to me." 
 
 " What ? " she asked, not understanding. 
 
 " I ain t never goin to be let out." 
 
 Gitty gave an hysteric cry. Her father did not 
 appear to hear her. He was looking earnestly at 
 his wife. "I m goin to be kep like this," he 
 continued, " caged up as long as I live. I ain t 
 goin to come home ag in." 
 
 Maria wrung her hands in her apron. Matt 
 cast about in his mind frantically for solace. It 
 would avail nothing merely to affirm that Demos 
 thenes ignorance was in no wise responsible for 
 the verdict. The three men sentenced with Jacob 
 had, unfortunately for the hypothesis, employed 
 the same counsel. There was but one bit of 
 comfort which Matt seized eagerly. " After all, 
 father," said he, " it saved your life." 
 
 " Mebbe," Jacob assented. " But I got o live 
 that life all through in prison. I can t git out." 
 
OLD JACOB S PLEA 239 
 
 Swift as a flash of lightning the unnatural calm 
 was gone. A cunning expression transformed his 
 features. " I won t stay," he added. " I will git 
 out. I 11 run away." 
 
 " Oh, no, you won t," Maria pleaded. " You 11 
 behave." 
 
 He made no reply. This new hope so took 
 possession of him that he ignored their presence. 
 
 " Father," his wife ventured timidly after a 
 second of silence ; " you know we have got to say 
 good-by ? " 
 
 He started violently. " Right away ? " 
 
 " Yes, right away. But is n t it better so ? " 
 
 She spoke with decision. Like most of her sex 
 Maria Hager could rise to a supreme situation. 
 The difficulty lay in its continuance. 
 
 She stretched her toil-hardened hand out to 
 him. " Good-by, father," said she. 
 
 " Good-by." 
 
 Pie dropped the fingers pressing his own, took 
 Gitty s nervelessly, and passed on to Matt. 
 
 " I shall stay a while longer," his son an 
 nounced. 
 
 Maria set her lips together. She could hear 
 Gitty s sobs, but she had no thought of tears. 
 They were for other griefs than this. She cast 
 upon her husband a last glance that held as much 
 anxiety as sorrow. "You ll behave, father?" 
 she urged. 
 
 It was hard for her life-long reserve to say even 
 so much to him. It was harder for his obstinacy 
 to answer as she wished. 
 
240 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 "Mebbe," was the utmost he could promise. 
 
 They looked at each other they who had been 
 man and wife for a quarter century. Their timid 
 gaze might tell all their lips refused to utter. 
 And then Matt mercifully led his mother away. 
 
CHAPTER XXV 
 
 AT MIX S 
 Poverty is a most odious calling. BURTON. 
 
 " OH, goody, goody ! " cried Allie Colton, throw 
 ing the door wide open. " Henry is n t going to 
 be hung after all." 
 
 Phe and Jemima were tying a comfortable in 
 the spare room. Both women dropped needle and 
 worsted at the interruption. " Why, how you 
 startled us, child ! " Phosbe expostulated. " You 
 should n t say such dreadful things." 
 
 " Well, he is n t," Allie persisted. 
 
 "You d ought o be switched," Jemima de 
 clared, resuming her work, " to talk in that col - 
 blooded way about poor Henery Fisher. What 
 you heard, anyhow ? " 
 
 " I am not cold-blooded, either," the little boy 
 declared. " I was just glad. And I m a good 
 mind not to tell you any more you re so smart." 
 
 " Oh, yes, tell us, lovey," coaxed Phe. " Has 
 Henry been tried ? It s odd we did n t hear of 
 it." 
 
 "He pleaded guilty," said Allie, still rather 
 sulky, " him and a lot of other men. Mr. Gallup 
 told em to. They ve all been fined. If they pay 
 
242 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 the money they re going to be let out. Almiran 
 and Omar Mix too." 
 
 Phe and Jemima Lane exchanged significant 
 glances. " What s Henery fined ? " asked the 
 older woman. 
 
 " Three hundred dollars. Is n t that a lot of 
 money ? " 
 
 He swung back arid forth from his heels to his 
 toes. " I guess I 11 run tell mother," he finally 
 announced, and slammed the door behind him. 
 
 Phe regarded Jemima anxiously across the 
 quilting frames. " Henry has n t any three hun 
 dred dollars," she said, " and there s Mr. Gallup 
 to pay." 
 
 Jemima, too, was grave. " I presume he 11 have 
 money enough," she answered at length. " Come," 
 thrusting her needle into the coverlet, "things 
 always settle kind of by standin for a spell. An 
 we got to git to work. I want o go to town 
 before dark." 
 
 " Why, what for ? " asked Phe, opening her 
 eyes wide. 
 
 " Bis ness," was the curt response. Thereupon 
 Jemima bent to her task. 
 
 " She intends to pay his fine," thought Phe. 
 
 The Anti-rent trials had lasted for the past two 
 months. During that time twelve men had been 
 sentenced to serve terms of varying length in 
 state s prison. The fines imposed upon those 
 others (thirty in all) who had thrown themselves 
 upon the mercy of the court ranged from five hun 
 dred dollars to twenty-five dollars. Omar Mix was 
 
AT MIX S 243 
 
 among the thirty-nine who likewise pleaded guilty 
 and whose sentences were suspended. The episode 
 closed temporarily with the commutation by the 
 governor of Mann s and Zielle s sentence to life 
 imprisonment. 
 
 Jemima went to the village that afternoon as she 
 had announced. Some time later, while the family 
 sat together about the Franklin stove they heard 
 the clatter of feet on the porch. " There is Je 
 mima now," said Mrs. Colton. 
 
 " Henry s with her," Allie added with a child s 
 quick perceptions. " Oh, goody, goody ! Henry 
 Fisher s come." 
 
 He ran to the door in tumultuous welcome, fol 
 lowed by the others. On the threshold they were 
 met by Jemima, triumphant, smiling. Over her 
 shoulder appeared the shining face of Henry 
 Fisher. 
 
 The good fellow was overcome by this his first 
 sight of the old home without its master. The 
 very warmth of his greeting disconcerted him. It 
 was Mrs. Colton, with her fine tact, who relieved 
 his embarrassment by saying, after supper, " I 
 wish you both would come into the sitting-room, 
 please, and let us have a talk together. Phe 
 and I want your advice. There is no one so well 
 qualified to give it." 
 
 "They ain t nobuddy that cares more. I m 
 sure o that," Jemima answered. 
 
 " No, indeed ; no one so interested, and under 
 standing so thoroughly how we are placed. Sit 
 here, Henry, won t you ? by the fire. Allie, bring 
 
244 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 Jemima s rocking-chair. Now, little boy, you may 
 go into the parlor and read if you like." 
 
 " I d rather stay," he announced, sidling up to 
 the speaker. " I want to hear about it too." 
 
 Mrs. Colton threw her arm around her son. 
 " Mother does n t like to worry you," she said. 
 " But perhaps it is only right, Phe " 
 
 She looked dependently at her daughter, as she 
 had been wont to look at her husband. Such a 
 character must always have a mental prop, and 
 Phe was beginning to feel the strain that frets a 
 woman who is made head of the household. 
 
 "Yes," she replied. "Allie has learned so 
 much of our affairs already, I fancy it would be 
 kinder to tell him everything." 
 
 "Well, how is it, Mis Colton?" inquired 
 Jemima. 
 
 " How is it ? " Henry echoed. 
 
 His red hands were outstretched awkwardly 
 upon his knees. He breathed hard, and kept one 
 eye rolled in Jemima s direction. 
 
 " It s about as bad as it can be," Phe explained, 
 seeing her mother s hesitation that dreaded to 
 formulate the facts. " Dear father had been un 
 fortunate, you know, before we came to Farley, 
 and of course his practice was not fully estab 
 lished here. We are left with the furniture of this 
 house and the rent paid to the first of March. 
 That much we have." 
 
 "And there are lots of things to eat," Allie 
 interposed. " Corn-house s full and the cellar and 
 the smoke-house." 
 
AT MIX S 245 
 
 "Yes, dear, I was coming to that. We have 
 provision for the winter. But we must face the 
 fact that our income is cut off and there is no way 
 of making it good. The question is, what are we 
 to do." 
 
 " Yes," Jemima agreed, nodding wisely, " I see." 
 
 " So do I," said Henry. 
 
 " We can t keep the farm after next March. 
 We can t keep you two with us. We have no 
 money." 
 
 " I ve got some in my bank," Allie inter 
 rupted, " ninety-three cents." 
 
 "That is about the amount of my capital," 
 Mrs. Colton continued, smiling tremulously. 
 " Yes, you speak, Jemima. What shall we do ? " 
 
 She saw that Jemima Lane had something to 
 say. 
 
 " We can trade at the store I mean you can," 
 for she noticed the flush of worry on her mis 
 tress s cheeks ; " Henery an me 11 find something 
 or nother to turn to. But over an above what 
 you 11 need there s barter on this place that 11 
 stand ye instead o cash. An as for money (I 
 know ye got o have some), I tell ye what I ve 
 been thinkin " 
 
 " Oh, you good Jemima ! You have been think 
 ing, then ? " cried Phe, relieved. 
 
 "We all got o think. We can t help that. 
 The thing is to make it o some purpose. Why 
 not do this, Mis Colton ; the farm s convenient 
 to town, t ain t but a mile or so " 
 
 " It s a mile and one eighth," said Allie. 
 
246 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " All right. Now I ve spied around consid - 
 able, an put some questions. I ain t been idle. 
 An fur s I see, ye could take three or four 
 boarders well as not. They s room enough an to 
 spare up-chamber. Plenty young men come into 
 town in the winter to go to school. They d gladly 
 give ye a dollar a week for board." 
 
 Phe and her mother sat transfixed by this sug 
 gestion. " Do you suppose they would?" the girl 
 faltered. 
 
 " It s what they pay all round town. You ve 
 got sufficient laid by to feed em. Eve y buddy 
 agrees on t it s the easiest way they is to turn a 
 farm into money. Why don t ye try it ? " 
 
 " Why don t ye ? " said Henry. 
 
 " They s two new law students in Mr. Gallup s 
 office. I kind o sounded him to-day. I ain t a 
 doubt in the world but they d come. You could 
 fill the house up easy. I should n t wonder a mite 
 if ye could make as much as five dollars a week." 
 
 Mrs. Colton gasped at this prospect of wealth. 
 
 " It s a lovely plan," exclaimed her daughter. 
 
 " An mebbe," Jemima hinted, with a sidelong 
 glance, " I might be able to help sufficient, if ye 
 had your hands so full, so t you d conclude to 
 keep me. I could afford to work some cheaper." 
 
 " Now, Jemima," Phe expostulated, tears spring 
 ing to her eyes, " don t say another word. You 
 shall not try to aid us by harming yourself. You 
 could get seventy-five cents a week anywhere else, 
 and you must not stay here for less." 
 
 " Well, well, we won t say any more about 
 
AT MIX S 247 
 
 that." Jemima turned the subject hastily. " The 
 first thing s to git the boarders." 
 
 A fretted frown fixed itself between Mrs. Col- 
 ton s brows. Phe raised one hand to her eyes in 
 an attitude of consideration. Jemima s generous 
 heart felt a twinge of guilt. 
 
 She had understood in a general way that the 
 Coltons were very poor. Yet, while her monthly 
 wages were paid as promptly as before, it did not 
 come home to her that the three dollars were so seri 
 ous a loss to the mistress. She had been aware 
 that the present state of affairs could not continue, 
 without seeing that it must end at once. " O course 
 Henery an me can find places," she said with ap 
 parent irrelevance, " an not so far away but what 
 we can all keep together, kind of. We d be lost 
 without this house to come to once in a while. But, 
 first off, we must see you fixed here an ev rything 
 ready. Henery Fisher, you better go to bed. Take 
 Allie too. We want to talk this over." 
 
 Far into the night the three women consulted as 
 to ways and means. Some outlay was necessary 
 at the opening of their scheme. And whence should 
 be obtained even the smallest sum to which they 
 condensed their requirements ? 
 
 " Oh, we will manage, mother," Phe reassured 
 Mrs. Colton when she grew white and scared. Yet 
 the girl s heart was heavy. She had led hitherto 
 the sheltered, careless life of a child. She was 
 pushed suddenly into the position of a man fighting 
 for his family s being in a brutal world. The want 
 of a piteously small amount of money weighed 
 
248 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 upon her with its resultant scheming, till she felt 
 crushed as if beneath another grief. 
 
 One day, soon after their decision, while the 
 matter moved forward with a teasing sloth, she was 
 forced to go to Mix s. She dared not trust her 
 purchases to Allie. Henry had already found a 
 home for the winter at the Hager farm, and Je 
 mima proved too busy to be spared. 
 
 " I must make the best bargain I can," thought 
 Phe, " and make it myself to be certain the pen 
 nies are stretched as far as they will go. I hate 
 the whole thing ; those lounging men sitting around 
 the stove will listen to me and nudge each other. 
 Suppose he should be there ! I could not bear that 
 for him to see how mean and greedy I must be." 
 
 She felt the pinch of poverty more acutely from 
 her father s open-handed manner of life, which had 
 left them to such distress, this result forming one 
 of the two-edged evils of extravagance. Phe could 
 confide in no one. She suffered likewise from that 
 reserve wherein her soul cowered in a proud pain 
 from display of poverty. Accustomed to an atti 
 tude of implied superiority over these Farley 
 friends, she sickened at the notion that they might 
 now condescend to pity her. " Keeping boarders " 
 was thus harder for Phe than even for her mother, 
 and the trifling incident of considering a cent the 
 more or less at Mix s appeared for the moment 
 the greatest of her trials. 
 
 She conducted her purchases in an undertone 
 and with hurried gestures. Josephine Mix aided 
 the selection with a good-natured sympathy, igno- 
 
AT MIX S 249 
 
 rant but kindly, to Phe s manifest discomfort. 
 Finally she whispered through the buzz of gossip 
 about the stove, 
 
 " Heard the news up at your house ? " 
 
 " I don t remember any," Phe answered, trying 
 to be civil. 
 
 " It only happened this morning. Squire May- 
 ham had another stroke. He s dead." 
 
 " Oh, is he ? " 
 
 Phe thought at once her cares were become 
 so sordid that the Squire had not paid her 
 father s bill. She wondered anxiously whether 
 they would lose this that they had counted upon. 
 Josephine s voice recalled her to the conversation. 
 " Matt Hager 11 come into every penny. So pa 
 says. He 11 be as rich as a Jew." 
 
 " Oh, is that so ? " Phe queried aimlessly. 
 
 " Yes, indeed. I know it for a fact. My ! Think 
 of that elegant house and grounds ! And they say 
 it s chuck full of the most splendid things you 
 ever saw in your life, silver, and china, and cut 
 glass. Pa s went there sometimes. He says you 
 could see your face in the mahogany sideboard. 
 And the table linen was like satin." 
 
 " That s very nice," said Phe. 
 
 " And carriages and horses. And all them ter 
 races with the stone steps leading down. And a 
 rose walk, and arbors, and summer-houses. I asked 
 pa if there was sufficient to run it with. He did 
 laugh. He says the Squire was as rich as mud. 
 And Matt gets every penny." 
 
 " That s nice," Phe repeated ; " I m glad." 
 
250 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " He 11 be a catch, I tell you," added Josephine 
 with a conscious laugh. 
 
 Another customer pushed her way forward just 
 then. Phe heard her question, " You heard about 
 Matt Hager ? " before she seized her opportunity 
 to slip away. 
 
 The thoughts attending her homeward path were 
 in a strange confusion. To himself Matt had praised 
 the sweet humility with which Phe stooped to him 
 and seemed unmindful how far she was obliged to 
 stoop. This was true. Yet no sooner was Matt 
 raised, by all the standards either knew, to an im 
 measurable height from whence to survey her 
 losses, than Phoebe Colton became bitterly proud. 
 
 " I told Josephine I was glad," she said, address 
 ing a katydid clamoring on the wayside wall. 
 " And it was not true. I am a different person, 
 now I am poor. I am selfish, and grudging, and 
 covetous. I believe in my heart I am sorry that 
 he should be so rich." 
 
CHAPTER XXVI 
 
 THE LADY OF THE AIR CASTLE 
 He proud and rich, I very proud and poor. CKABBE 
 
 ONE day, Matt Hager,in examining his cousin s 
 papers, came upon an unopened letter. He found 
 it contained a bill for Dr. Col ton s services. Ar 
 riving probably at some period of alarm at the 
 invalid s condition, it had been thrust aside at 
 the time and afterwards forgotten. Matt glanced 
 along the column of figures, shamefaced at the 
 neglect, but sentimental with the fancy that Phe s 
 hand formed the pretty, minute characters. " To 
 think of their never hearing from it ! " he groaned. 
 " They must despise us all out here. And how am 
 I going to give it to them ? " 
 
 The big boy, simple, unused to the handling of 
 money, never entertained the notion of a check 
 sent by mail. To him payment meant so many 
 dollars delivered in person to Mrs. Colton, while 
 Phe stood by with crimson cheeks and lowered 
 eyes. He saw it all as in a picture. What he 
 did not see was the pressing need of the amount. 
 Like most men, he had always taken elegance of 
 living and dignified reserve to denote a liberal in 
 come. When he heard of the doctor s death, in 
 
252 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 common with many less peculiarly interested, he 
 concluded, " Well, I guess they re left pretty well 
 off." 
 
 Yet, while there was no conception of Phe s true 
 attitude, this new tie between them brought to him 
 a subtle sensation, not so coarse as power, not so 
 clearly defined as hope. For the first time since 
 he heard of his father s arrest, he began to weave 
 a day-dream with Phe for its heroine. 
 
 " If she would have me " 
 
 He sat musing at the huge mahogany desk, 
 with its emptied pigeonholes and shallow drawers 
 drawn out for investigation. He pushed back his 
 armchair and strode over to the chimney corner. 
 With one foot on the fender and his elbow resting 
 on the mantelpiece, he gazed down into the dan 
 cing fire reflected in the andirons. He stretched 
 his hand almost timidly toward a silver candle 
 stick, lifting it from its primly set place. He gave 
 a little foolish laugh. 
 
 " I believe I 11 just take a look around," he 
 thought. 
 
 He was safe from observation, no matter what 
 his folly. The servants at the Mayham place were 
 not one with the family as in most Farley houses. 
 In his loneliness Matt endeavored to keep Miss 
 Azubah with him for at least the winter. But her 
 gentle resolution was like a soft pillow assuming 
 its original form as soon as pressure upon it was 
 removed. She had arranged her plans for the 
 future, and when the Squire s .death released her, 
 departed forthwith to a new home. His mother 
 
THE LADY OF THE AIR CASTLE 253 
 
 could not be induced to leave the farm, nor was 
 Matt free to forsake his legacy with its countless 
 responsibilities. He passed his days in an isolation 
 splendid to onlookers, forlorn for him who bore it. 
 
 So he closed the door on the library, with its 
 faint odor of Russia leather and its row of high- 
 backed chairs. He crossed the wide hall to the 
 foot of the stairs, and, holding his candle above his 
 head, looked up their curving length. 
 
 " I can see the flutter of her gown," he mused, 
 " as she runs down the steps to the landing. Then 
 she spies me waiting here, and she comes more 
 quickly. The logs are lighted in the fireplace 
 yonder. The blaze shines out upon her as she 
 draws nearer. It shows her white frock with the 
 little flowers all over it, and the slippers when she 
 holds her skirt aside. Joe has waxed the wood 
 work till it shines like glass. Suppose she should 
 not heed in her hurry ; suppose she slip and I 
 spring forward to catch her "- 
 
 He bit his lip over the sweet words running un- 
 articulated through his mind. They had grown 
 too sweet. He trembled, and turned aside. 
 
 " Then we would go to the drawing-room," he 
 continued, his fingers upon the knob. " She crosses 
 the floor, leading me, and she asks, Shall I play 
 for you, Matt, till the tea-bell rings ? Gitty said 
 she could play. I sit here in my armchair on the 
 hearth," he took up his station, gazing about him, 
 " and she there while I watch her. I should 
 sit like this and look." 
 
 He drew the chair forward, its claw legs rolling 
 
254 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 softly over the Eastern rug. He threw himself 
 into its soft depths and fixed his eyes on the oppo 
 site wall. The graceful old spinnet stood open. 
 Candelabra, glistening by Matt s taper in every 
 prism, were mirrored in the rosewood surface. A 
 sheet of yellowed music was spread upon the rack. 
 When they were children, brought to visit their 
 cousin, Matt and Gitty used to pretend that this 
 stately home was theirs and they were man and 
 woman enjoying the somewhat awful grandeur of 
 the drawing-room. To-night Matt pretended once 
 more. 
 
 " Her head is hid by the music," he told himself, 
 " so that I cannot see her face. The tune she has 
 chosen is sad, and her touch is very soft. That 
 shadow is the flow of her light gown beside her on 
 the floor. She is speaking to me in the music, 
 and I listen here by the fire." 
 
 So he imagined, by and by, that she rose and 
 strolled about the room. He watched her little 
 airs of ownership, adjusting the folds of the dam 
 ask curtains, or straightening here and there a 
 book on the centre-table, and a carved chair against 
 the wall. At length she came to his side. 
 
 " Are you asleep, Matt ? " she inquired. " Han 
 nah is calling us to tea." 
 
 He started up, his pulses beating thickly. A 
 subdued tinkle sounded from the hallway as if to 
 confirm the fancy. Hannah was summoning the 
 master ah, but there was no mistress. 
 
 Yet the thought had been so humored that 
 henceforth it was easier to go further than to rea- 
 
THE LADY OF THE AIR CASTLE 255 
 
 son and remember. Matt sat alone at the round 
 table, with Joe Murray behind his chair. But 
 across the glitter of glass and silver he saw a fig 
 ure facing him, he heard the sweet, insistent tone 
 of a girl voice in the chatter of a girl. She was 
 relating the events of a day which he had spent in 
 affairs outside the house. 
 
 After the meal he led her back to the study. 
 The long, high settle was pulled out at a right 
 angle with the fire. They sat here side by side, 
 and she read to him from one of the rows of vol 
 umes reaching along the sides of the room, seldom 
 opened, richly bound books, " the classics," Matt 
 had heard them called. 
 
 And while the dear voice pronounced the im 
 pressive sentences, his mind roved on again. 
 Among the great rooms in the house there was one 
 chamber never opened since Cousin Deidamia s 
 death, save as the maids or Miss Azubah rever 
 ently crossed the threshold to see that its spotless 
 order was preserved. Only the other day Matt, 
 passing the door, had been called in to help Sarah 
 in moving the ponderous toilet-table. He recalled 
 the quaint mirror and saw the face of his wife 
 given back by the glass. He remembered tales 
 Gitty had told him of laces laid away in those 
 drawers, of crepe shawls and delicate garments 
 scented by rose leaves and lavender, of the mahog 
 any wardrobes whose depths disclosed, long ago, 
 for an admiring little girl, gowns of silk that 
 " would stand alone," brocade and satin and a cir 
 cular cloak of Lyons velvet. 
 
256 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 "Phe shall have them all," he concluded. 
 " Cousin Marcus won t care now." 
 
 The little white gown with its sprays of flowers 
 became, on the instant, too simple. Phe must 
 wear the jewels that once sparkled on Mrs. May- 
 ham s fingers. He must find for her the cameo 
 brooch that pinned the laces at Cousin Deida- 
 mia s throat. 
 
 Matt s mood had so beguiled him, he had so 
 yielded to its insistence, that he was not fully 
 awakened when, on the following morning, he 
 rode down the avenue on his way to Mrs. Colton. 
 He loathed his errand, but he reflected doggedly 
 that there was nothing to gain by delay. Nor 
 could he wholly regret any excuse which called 
 him to Phe s presence. To-day he went, for his 
 dream s sake, like a glad-hearted boy. He was 
 thorough-going in this as in all things. Reso 
 lutely pushing away the memory of disgrace, he 
 had toyed with unrealities until they cheated him 
 into security. 
 
 Not only had Matt no intimation of what in 
 Phe s eyes were their relative positions, but he 
 failed to consider all his apparent neglect might 
 mean to her. She was so constantly in his mind, 
 it was so dear a delight to seek her out, that he 
 supposed she understood it was obligation alone 
 that withheld him. His home experience might 
 have served to show a woman takes nothing for 
 granted. As ^he refused to learn from others, he 
 must pay the price for the fond belief that this 
 creature he raised above all other things created 
 
THE LADY OF THE AIR CASTLE 257 
 
 was, in truth, superior to every feminine fault. 
 So he cantered gayly along the country road to 
 her. 
 
 A gray sky bent low over the white land. The 
 trees threw delicate tracery of twig and bough 
 against the soft background that refreshed eyes 
 wearied by the expanse of glistening snow. Matt s 
 high spirits bounded higher still. The motion of 
 his fine horse, the stinging air with its promise of 
 coming storm, the goal to which his face was set, 
 the memory of last night s pastime, most of all 
 the inevitable reaction after months of trouble, 
 these brought happiness back to him. 
 
 Allie spied him in the distance and ran to tell 
 his sister. She was constructing an ottoman in 
 an endeavor to eke out the inadequate furniture of 
 a boarder s room. If Matt had but suspected it, 
 Phe s scissors were snipping at the very French 
 calico gown she had worn last night in his fancy. 
 Her eyes were red from crying over the sale of 
 Sam and the doctor s chaise. This, the day of 
 Matt s returning joy, was the most entirely hope 
 less, so she felt, that she had ever known. 
 
 " I 11 answer the knocker," she said primly in 
 response to her brother s offer. 
 
 Phe possessed her mother s theories of propri 
 ety. A touch here and there removed from her 
 person every trace of a morning s hard work. It 
 was no drudge who opened the door to Matt. 
 
 He did not notice that her black gown was 
 cheap and worn. She saw at one glance the fine 
 material of his garments, the band of crepe about 
 
258 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 his arm, the gold-headed riding- whip he carried. 
 This was another Mathice from the farmer s boy, 
 and she was another woman. 
 
 There is a curious power in mere clothes. Phe 
 felt at her worst in her old frock, Matt at his 
 best in the mourning outfit Miss Azubah had told 
 him he must buy in honor of the Squire. 
 
 " Good-morning," said he with a novel assurance. 
 " May I speak to your mother, please ? " 
 
 She thought him patronizing. " Certainly," she 
 answered. And his high heart went down. 
 
 " Come into the parlor, won t you ? " Phe con 
 tinued in the same sweet frigidity. " I will find 
 my mother. She is upstairs, I believe." 
 
 Matt followed her, stumbling over the raised 
 threshold. It was not so she had led him yester 
 day, nor was this the lady of his air castle. He 
 grasped despairingly at that fleeting bliss. " Don t 
 go," he entreated, standing in the middle of the 
 floor. " I wanted to see you too. Don t go." 
 
 " But I must go," Phe expostulated with a dis 
 tant smile, " if I am to call my mother." 
 
 " Maybe you need n t." Matt s wits had utterly 
 deserted him. Never swift of comprehension, he 
 was confused by the crash of his phantasies in 
 their fall. " Maybe you would do just as well," 
 he went on. " I came to pay a bill." 
 
 His face grew scarlet. Phe s cheeks turned 
 white. " I will do quite as well," she answered, 
 and held out her hand to him. 
 
 Matt drew his wallet sullenly from his breast 
 pocket. To Phe s morbid acuteness it appeared 
 
THE LADY OF THE AIR CASTLE 259 
 
 aggressively plump. The roll of bills from which 
 he selected what he wished represented a fortune 
 for her. He laid these in the outstretched fin 
 gers and fumbled in a trousers pocket for the odd 
 change. He brought out a little pile of silver, 
 counting it aloud. 
 
 " Is that right? " he asked. 
 
 Phe had bitten her lip till it was bleeding. She 
 raised her handkerchief so that he could not see. 
 " Yes, that is right," she said. 
 
 " I had no idea this had been neglected. I only 
 ran across it yesterday. I suppose Cousin Mark 
 was too sick to open the letter at the proper time. 
 I am very sorry." 
 
 " It is of no consequence," was the lofty reply. 
 
 " She despises me," thought Matt, " because I 
 am rich. While I was poor and in trouble she 
 pitied me. But I do cut a contemptible figure 
 strutting about as the Squire s heir with my father 
 in prison for life." 
 
 " He despises me," thought Phe, " because I am 
 poor. He comes here flaunting his riches and 
 forcing me to take his money. It is hateful 
 hateful of him." 
 
 She had not even asked their guest to be seated. 
 The brief interview ended, Matt turned toward 
 the door. " Your mother well ? " he inquired. 
 
 " Very well, thank you," answered Phe. " I 
 saw Gitty a day or two ago." 
 
 " Ah, did you ? " said Matt. " Good-by." 
 
 " Good-by," she responded promptly. 
 
 As he opened the front door Demosthenes Mix 
 
260 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 came up the path. He wore the air of one very 
 much at home. 
 
 " What are you doing here ? " demanded Matt, 
 who was still not altogether responsible for his 
 speech. 
 
 But Demosthenes never recognized rudeness 
 if he encountered it. He smiled radiantly upon 
 Mathice. " I live here," he explained in his pom 
 pous tones. " You know I gave up my room at 
 father s long ago, when I began to practice in town. 
 And Mrs. Colton has taken me to board for the 
 winter. It is an extremely pleasant arrangement." 
 
 " It must be," Matt replied. 
 
CHAPTER XXVII 
 
 ON THE WAY HOME 
 
 " Rue and thyme grow baith in ae garden." 
 
 To Matt Hager the winter passed in a curious 
 medley of feeling. Most of us have a personified 
 conscience, and Phe Colton had been his. So long 
 as he imagined she sympathized with his disgrace, 
 the arrogance he inherited held its head on high. 
 The shame, moreover, was so widespread, the en 
 tire community so thoroughly shared crime and 
 punishment, that, although Matt felt both keenly, 
 he had comprehended neither as it appeared before 
 him now. For with Phe s support withdrawn he 
 saw the situation, not indeed as it was, but in the 
 distorted proportions of a mood altogether alien to 
 his temperament. He stood, in his imagination, 
 before Phe and before all his world, disloyal to 
 Anti-rent in its hour of need, rewarded by riches 
 and honors for his treachery and his father suffer 
 ing in his stead. 
 
 This is what he fancied men were saying as they 
 pointed him out or whispered together. He never 
 guessed that the notice he excited was aroused 
 by comments on his luck, on the statement, 
 " That young fellow there is the richest chap in the 
 
262 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 county." More and more he kept to himself. His 
 daily visit to his mother enlivened his sensitiveness, 
 for she could talk of nothing save his father and the 
 painful details of Jacob s condition. There were 
 letters to write to the prisoner, and expectations, 
 never fulfilled, of some word in reply. 
 
 Yet Mathice was too resolute and confident to be 
 always cowed. Again and again in a revolutionary 
 spirit he started up declaring he should go to Phe 
 Colton and demand of her whether love between 
 them was indeed impossible. Then the remem 
 brance of her cold courtesy alarmed him and he 
 drew back. With the spring arose an excuse at 
 which he grasped to take a long business journey 
 in the West. His normal healthy state of mind 
 worked uppermost in the bustle of last arrange 
 ments, and it was the old Matt Hager who said to 
 Gitty on the day before he left home, "I sup 
 pose I might as well drop in and bid the Coltons 
 good-by." 
 
 " Why, yes," she assented indifferently. " I 
 should think you would want to." 
 
 On his way through Farley Matt stopped before 
 the little office of Demosthenes Mix. He had re 
 peatedly offered to pay the lawyer for his services 
 to old Jacob, and repeatedly been told with a wave 
 of the hand that Demosthenes was too busy to 
 bother with the matter at present. Matt knew this 
 to be partly the pose of the man and partly the 
 vanity of a young worker magnifying his work s 
 success. Such demonstrations from Mossy Mix 
 had amused him once. At present they irritated 
 
ON THE WAY HOME 263 
 
 Mathice, because, without formulating the idea, he 
 was conscious this aforetime despised rival seemed 
 nowadays ridiculously contented, risen on the wings 
 of a secret happiness above sordid considerations 
 of money-making. Matt was in a determined hu 
 mor as he entered the office and announced he had 
 come " this time " to discharge his debt. 
 
 "Oh, well," conceded Demosthenes with his 
 usual condescension, " as you like, as you like. I 
 will look up the account directly." He fluttered 
 the leaves of a ledger. " So I hear you are going 
 to travel ? " 
 
 " Yes," said Matt, standing grave and quiet by 
 the door ; " I am." 
 
 " And on the whole I should consider it a very 
 sensible course to pursue." 
 
 " It is," was the gruff reply. " I am going West 
 on business." 
 
 " I mean," continued the unruffled flow of words, 
 " that over and above any mercenary motives, you 
 must be weary of your isolation in that out-of-the- 
 world May ham place. I have thought of you often 
 and pitied you this winter, Mathice. For one I 
 have never envied you your inheritance." 
 
 Matt smiled slightly at the boyish spite. Then 
 he grew sober. " Heaven knows there is no reason 
 why you should," he answered. 
 
 Demosthenes was copying items from the ledger 
 to a slip of paper, but he talked on meanwhile as if 
 the action were automatic. " Yes, I have ample 
 cause to be satisfied. There is no need, as you 
 justly observe, why I should covet your goods. I 
 have enough of my own." 
 
264 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " I did not justly observe anything of the sort," 
 interrupted his listener. " And why should you 
 be so thundering happy all at once ? " 
 
 Demosthenes smiled fatuously over his figures. 
 " Why should I not ? " he retorted. " I am in a 
 delightful home, and I look forward to one more 
 delightful still. I am partially engaged to be mar 
 ried." 
 
 " What do you mean by partially engaged ? " 
 
 The rough tone, the manner almost threatening, 
 were lost upon Demosthenes. " I mean," he an 
 swered glibly, " that Phrebe Colton has promised 
 conditionally to marry me." 
 
 Matt extended his hand for the bill. " How much 
 is it ? " he asked. And, on seeing the amount, he 
 added ten dollars to his payment. " I 11 give you 
 that for a present, Mossy," he swaggered. 
 
 Demosthenes colored but he took the money ; 
 while Matt felt something of the teasing spirit of 
 his Indian days in the revenge of humiliating this 
 enviable man. 
 
 He did not go to bid Phe good-by. He chose 
 the shortest road to his home, where he tried to 
 cheat himself into fancying there was so much left 
 undone that he should have no time to think. He 
 left his horse at the stable and walked along the 
 flower garden to the house. 
 
 Crazy Dan was setting up a trellis by the rose- 
 bed. He smiled on the tall, broad-shouldered fel 
 low striding down the path between the lilac hedges. 
 Purple plumes flung out their fragrance as they 
 swung in the sunlight above the young heir s head. 
 
ON THE WAY HOME 265 
 
 Amid the bloom and beauty his dark face cast a 
 shadow. It awakened the confused brain to an 
 inevitable commentary : 
 
 " There is a sore evil which I have seen under 
 the sun, namely, riches kept for the owner thereof 
 to their hurt. For what is a man advantaged, if 
 he gain the whole world, and lose himself ? " 
 
 " What indeed ? " Matt bitterly repeated. 
 
 Mr. Rockwell, likewise boarding with Phe and 
 her mother, announced at the supper-table that he 
 understood Mathice Hager was going West for a 
 long stay. " He has grown proud," he added. 
 " I met him, this noon, on my way from school. 
 He was riding toward the Mayham place and I in 
 the footpath as near as I am to you, Miss Phoebe. 
 He never once looked at me. To think of the times 
 I have thrashed that boy ! I don t like such ways." 
 
 " Neither do I," said Phoebe with burning cheeks. 
 The next moment she rebuked Allie for greediness. 
 His mother motioned him not to answer. It was 
 Mrs. Colton who led the conversation away from 
 Matt Hager. 
 
 The Squire s heir found sufficient excuse to keep 
 him from his dreary home until late in the autumn. 
 He had lingered on in Iowa under one pretext 
 after another, until repeated misspelled appeals 
 from the farmer left in charge convinced him that 
 his presence was necessary at Farley. 
 
 Matt s return took place in the tumult of an ex 
 citing election. The Anti-rent contention had come 
 to seriously affect State politics. In this year 
 1846 the Downrenters united with the Whigs on 
 
266 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 a candidate for governor, with the Democrats on 
 one for lieutenant-governor. They supported a 
 friend to the cause as State senator, and twelve 
 men for the Assembly. The election proved a 
 sweeping victory for the tenants, and was felt in 
 Farley to be the more telling from the distrust 
 caused by the crime of Hager s sale. There was 
 such rejoicing as the sleepy town had never dis 
 played for a favorite s arrival at the White House. 
 
 Matt stopped to inform his family as to the result. 
 " Of course Mossy Mix has to scold," he remarked, 
 " and shake his head, and wonder if after all it s 
 for the best. That fellow lives more on his superi 
 ority to the rest of us than he does on meat and 
 drink." 
 
 " Oh, I forgot you had n t heard," Gitty an 
 swered. " We re a little suspicious of Mossy 
 lately. Did you know he was related to Lawyer 
 VanZandt?" 
 
 " Why, no," was Matt s reply. " Everybody 
 here is related to everybody else. But I never 
 knew that. What difference does it make, any 
 way?" 
 
 " Folks think it might have made a difference 
 in what he did for his clients." 
 
 Matt interrupted her quickly : " Stuff and non 
 sense ! Don t let mother get hold of that." 
 
 " No, I have n t. But it has hurt Mossy. Peo 
 ple seem prejudiced." 
 
 Matt s lip curled disdainfully. "Oh, the fel 
 low s honest enough," he acknowledged in grudg 
 ing truthfulness. Here he changed the subject. 
 
ON THE WAY HOME 267 
 
 " Well, I 11 be in to-morrow evening to stay with 
 mother if you want to go to singing-school." He 
 took up his hat and began revolving it on his hand. 
 " Mossy Mix going to be married ? " 
 
 " Not that I know of. Who to ? " 
 
 Matt eyed the opposite wall attentively. " Phe 
 Colton," said he in his throat. 
 
 A light of relief leaped to Gitty s face. " I 
 could n t tell you," she answered. " Maybe he is, 
 he s after her so strong. But then," candidly, 
 " so is Mr. Rockwell, and that student in Mr. Gal- 
 lup s office, and and other folks, too. I don t 
 know, I m sure." 
 
 " Well, good-night," said Matt. 
 
 Phe had rented both her melodeon and her ser 
 vices as a musician to the singing-class for the 
 season. Gitty was leaning on the ridiculous little 
 box, talking to the player while the company as 
 sembled, on the following evening, when she saw 
 her companion start violently and change color. 
 " What s the matter ? " she queried. 
 
 " Oh, nothing." 
 
 " Why, yes, there is. You re as red as a piney." 
 Gitty glanced over her shoulder. Demosthenes 
 was entering the room. " Oh, ho," she cried af 
 fectedly. " So that s how it is ! I was asked not 
 twenty-four hours ago if you were going to be 
 married." 
 
 Phe s hands fell on the keys with a crash. 
 " Gitty Hager," said she, " if you have any pity in 
 you, you 11 help me to get rid of that man." 
 
 " Whatever do you mean ? " 
 
268 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " I mean I am desperate. He won t take No 
 for an answer. He is incapable of it. He s so 
 consumed with self-love that he can t see any one 
 else doesn t love him just as much. It isn t that 
 he won t see it, but he can t. And I have to treat 
 him decently because he s a boarder. I cannot 
 fret mother, and I hardly ever see Jemima since 
 Mrs. Sweet has been sick. I m at my wit s end, 
 Gitty." 
 
 Her voice shook. It could not have continued 
 to speak longer. " Why, now," urged her practical 
 confidante, "can t you use Mr. Rockwell to dis 
 courage him?" 
 
 " But I don t want to lead him on either. They re 
 all boarders. You don t understand how hard it 
 is. We need the board." 
 
 Gitty had never before heard her speak with 
 such freedom. She gazed down into the lovely 
 eyes, her heart torn between sympathy and envy. 
 
 " Well, you are too pretty, that s a fact," she 
 said. 
 
 " Don t laugh at me." 
 
 This was as the teacher called them all to order. 
 
 Almiran edged his way down the bench toward 
 Gitty as the evening wore along. She detected the 
 movement, of course, with all that it implied. And 
 here was the moment for carrying out that resolu 
 tion which had formed itself while she sang at 
 random with the others, and her eyes studied Phe 
 Colton s face. At length they were dismissed and 
 Almiran drew near. 
 
 " May I wait on you home ? " said he. 
 
ON THE WAY HOME 269 
 
 He deemed it the merest form, but Gitty shook 
 her head. " You take Phe Colton." 
 
 " What for ? " 
 
 The blank expression, the reluctant tone, set her 
 pulses to faster beating. After all, it was not so 
 hard to be generous. " Because she is alone," she 
 urged. 
 
 " So are you." 
 
 " Oh, Almiran ! I can go with Henry Fisher 
 unless he wants to take Jemima," she was human 
 enough to add. 
 
 Almiran chuckled. " More likely, for the matter 
 of that, Jemimy would see him home. But Mossy 
 Mix is waiting for Phe." 
 
 " That s the very reason. She does n t want to 
 be beholden to Mossy Mix." 
 
 " Oh, I see," said Almiran good-naturedly. 
 " Well, you wait here, and I 11 ask Henry and Je 
 mimy" (Jemima was acting as nurse for Mrs. 
 Sweet) " to take Phe along with them. They 11 be 
 glad and proud to do it." 
 
 This was accomplished while the object of their 
 stratagem lingered by the melodeon hoping to tire 
 out her would-be escort in the entry. And Almi 
 ran, tucking Gitty s hand under his sleeve, set out 
 upon their long trudge through the snow. The 
 recent dialogue had left him curious. 
 
 " I never thought," he observed presently, " you 
 were so interested in Phe Colton s affairs. She 
 been complainin to you about Mossy ? " 
 
 " I should n t repeat it if she had. And it wan t 
 that altogether made me ask you to take her 
 home." 
 
270 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 "What was it, then?" 
 
 No answer. 
 
 " What was it, then ? " 
 
 " I supposed you d rather." 
 
 " Did n t you think I knew my own mind? " 
 
 Gitty s hand trembled on his arm. " No," she 
 answered. 
 
 Almiran stood still in the path. " What makes 
 you say that, Gitty Hager ? " 
 
 " Because it s true." She faced him defiantly. 
 " You re just fascinated with Phe. You have been 
 from the start. And to-night I made up my mind 
 I d say to you, You go with her and welcome. " 
 
 "Are you mad at me?" demanded Almiran in 
 consternation. 
 
 " Why, no. Don t you see I m not ? Almiran, 
 it s like this : what you did for me, a year ago 
 because I asked you, I should say, and you could n t 
 refuse I can t ever forget it. Nor yet all you 
 suffered afterwards. One good turn deserves an 
 other. I always thought honestly Phe did n t care 
 for you. To-night something made me see maybe 
 you would n t have such hard work if you wanted 
 to wait on her. After all I owed you, t was the 
 least I could do to tell you so. And now you know 
 how it is." 
 
 Almiran began to laugh. " I ain t a fool," said 
 he. " You mean, of the two, if t was to save her 
 self from Mossy Mix, Phe Colton would take me. 
 But," in a graver tone, " I don t want to keep com 
 pany with her, Gitty. I want to keep company 
 with you." 
 
ON THE WAY HOME 271 
 
 " Oh, Almiran Sweet ! " 
 
 " I do so. You see it s this way. " He put 
 his hand underneath her chin and peered into the 
 depths of her hood. " I did like Phe. I like her 
 now some. For all that, what I done for you 
 what you make so much of don t you see, it just 
 made me love you, Gitty. I could n t look at an 
 other girl after that." 
 
 " You ve hid it pretty well," pouted the blissful 
 creature, bridling and smiling. " How was I to 
 suspect ? You have n t been to see me, nor taken 
 scarcely any notice." 
 
 " That was the very reason. I felt," he stam 
 mered for lack of a word, " kind of delicate 
 about it. It seemed as if you d think I d bought 
 the right. Don t you understand ? " 
 
 " I understand one thing," she cried, clasping 
 her mittens together fervently, " that I m the 
 happiest girl in this world, if you say it of your 
 own accord, and not " 
 
 " And not what ? " 
 
 " And not because you saw all the time how 
 much I thought of you." 
 
 " Why, I think just as much of you," Almiran 
 expostulated. After a second s consideration, he 
 added, " And I really don t know but more." 
 
CHAPTER XXVHI 
 
 AT THE WINDOW 
 
 " They have most power to hurt us that we love. 
 We lay our sleeping lives within their arms." 
 
 MATT was pleased, with no tinge of envy, at 
 Gitty s embarrassed announcement of her engage 
 ment. It was much to him that his sister should 
 go without sense of shame to another home to which 
 she carried no disgrace, since it lay under the like 
 ban. 
 
 " I 11 give you the farm for a wedding present, 
 Gitty," said he one day. 
 
 Matt might sigh and tell Demosthenes Mix that 
 no man need covet his wealth. Yet it is easier to 
 depreciate what we have than what we lack, and, 
 with all the money failed to bring, there were al 
 leviations in such possibilities as this offer pre 
 sented. 
 
 His sister dropped her knitting-work, aghast. 
 " What farm ? " 
 
 " Why, this. The Hager farm." 
 
 "Oh, Matt! Father wouldn t like it." She 
 stopped abruptly. The bright color faded from 
 her cheeks. " I forgot," she stammered. " It s 
 hard to realize." 
 
 " Yes," the young man continued steadily, " it s 
 
AT THE WINDOW 273 
 
 hard to realize, and yet one must, that father has 
 nothing more to say about us, nor about the place. 
 I shall make it over to you, Gitty." 
 
 For Stephen Van Rensselaer, and other land 
 lords following his precedent, had, soon after the 
 tragedy of Hager s sale, given up the fight, in so 
 far as offers highly advantageous to the tenants 
 were thereupon made toward their purchase of 
 the land they occupied. Renters and Anti-renters 
 alike were appalled by the result of their long 
 dispute. Open insurrection was at an end, al 
 though the underlying bitterness was there, as the 
 recent election had shown. The generous propo 
 sals were generally accepted, and under them 
 Mathice purchased both the Mayham place and 
 the Hager farm. 
 
 " It s very good of you," said Gitty with the 
 effort she always felt in giving open praise. 
 " You ve been free-handed with mother and me, 
 Matt. We appreciate it." 
 
 " There s nothing very fine in turning over to 
 you what I don t want myself. When are you 
 going to be married ? " 
 
 " That s it," said she. " I don t know when we 
 can, I m sure." 
 
 Matt broke into a boyish laugh. " Well, I de 
 clare," he remarked, " you don t act as if you 
 cared much." 
 
 His sister smiled with a very sweet and womanly 
 blush. " I don t," she confessed. " Honestly, 
 Matt, I m just as happy as I can be. Nothing 
 worries me any more." 
 
274 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 Matt drew a deep breath. " You d better thank 
 God," he said in a low voice. 
 
 " Why, I do, every night ! But," in a brisker 
 tone as she returned to a more common phase of 
 thought, " there s no chance of our marrying yet 
 a while. Of course mother could n t be left alone. 
 You can t come to live with her, nor yet she won t 
 go to live with you. Oh, I ve thought it all out ! 
 And Almiran s mother is just exactly as depend 
 ent. He s all she has, you might say, with no 
 brother and sister. And since she s got so help 
 less with her rheumatism " 
 
 " It would be impossible for Almiran to leave 
 home. I see that, and yet there ought to be some 
 way for you to go there." Matt scowled reflec 
 tively. Gitty went on placidly with her knitting. 
 
 " It s real good of you to take such an interest," 
 she observed. 
 
 " I want you should be happy," he answered. 
 
 The unconscious emphasis upon his second pro 
 noun recalled to his sister s memory Matt s own 
 love affairs as she had suspected them. Selfish by 
 nature, her happiness brought with it sympathy, 
 and she felt tender of this good brother. "Oh, 
 by the way," she observed casually, " you remem 
 ber what you asked me, a while ago, about Mossy 
 Mix ? " 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " Well, there s not a word of truth in it." 
 
 " Why, he told me so himself." 
 
 " Oh, Mossy Mix ! What does his talking 
 amount to? She told me how it was, herself, 
 
AT THE WINDOW 275 
 
 when you come to that. She says he s driving her 
 out of her senses taking for granted what is n t 
 so." 
 
 Matt laughed again, this time with so changed 
 an expression that his sister exclaimed, " I declare 
 you re getting real good-looking ! " 
 
 " For mercy s sake," he answered shortly, " don t 
 let s discuss my beauty. Did she tell you in so 
 many words she was n t going to marry him ? " 
 
 " Yes, she did. So there ! " 
 
 Matt sat staring at the floor. "And she just 
 can t endure Mr. Rockwell," Gitty added comfort 
 ingly. 
 
 The bright look faded from his face. "The 
 trouble is," Matt observed dryly, as he rose, " that 
 she can t endure me either." 
 
 " I don t see whatever made me say he was 
 handsome," thought Gitty, watching him. Aloud 
 she added, " Yes, she can too. You always got 
 along together. What s the matter now ? " 
 
 " I don t know," kicking one foot against the 
 andiron. "Everything, I guess. She treats me 
 as if I was a dog." 
 
 Gitty shook her head, completely mystified. " I 
 can t understand it. What have you done ? " 
 
 " I have n t done a thing. It is n t that. It s 
 what I am." He was glowering into the fire. Sud 
 denly he raised one fist and brought it down upon 
 his thigh. " Look at me, a rank Downrenter, 
 living at my ease on the Squire s money, and my 
 old father in prison for life. No wonder she can t 
 bear the sight of me." 
 
276 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 Gitty uttered a little shriek. " Don t say such 
 horrible things, Matt. It is n t decent." 
 
 He raised his gloomy face, but quickly looked 
 down again. " That s so. And yet the thing is 
 true. Well, let s talk of something else." 
 
 " I can t not yet. Matt, I had no idea you 
 were feeling this thing in that kind of a way." 
 
 " Probably not. Thank the Lord for that, too. 
 It is the way I look at it, and the way she does 
 apparently ; I am the one Downrenter who skulked 
 out of his punishment when it fell on everybody 
 else. And my father No, I tell you I won t 
 discuss it any longer. See here, Gitty! Why 
 shouldn t Jemima Lane come and live with 
 mother ? " 
 
 "When?" 
 
 Gitty s slow brain was not accustomed to these 
 rapid turns. 
 
 " When you re married. You d more than take 
 her place at the Sweets ." 
 
 " Why, that s a beautiful plan ! " she cried. 
 " You are bright, Matt. Whatever made you 
 think of it?" 
 
 She was thoroughly diverted. Her brother 
 smiled sadly. But he liked the praise. " I have 
 to think nowadays," he answered. " The Squire s 
 affairs call for all you 11 give them. Well ? Then 
 you agree to it ? " 
 
 " Indeed and indeed I do. If mother is willing, 
 and and the others." 
 
 " All right. I guess I 11 be getting home." 
 
 Gitty betrayed immediately the impatience of a 
 
AT THE WINDOW 277 
 
 woman. " Why not drive around by his house and 
 talk it over with Jemima ? " 
 
 "Now? To-night?" 
 
 " There s no time like the present. I d like 
 to see whether she thinks it can be done." 
 
 " All right," Matt replied carelessly. " I 11 go." 
 
 " I guess she d rather," said Gitty, rolling up 
 her knitting, " as long as Henry Fisher s here." 
 
 "Yes, that was one thing I thought of." 
 
 If Matt hoped for another compliment on his 
 powers of reflection he was disappointed. This 
 came, however, from no lack of appreciation. 
 " While you re about it," Gitty suggested, follow 
 ing him to the threshold, " I wish you d tell 
 Jemima what you did me, about Phe." 
 
 " Good heavens, no ! " exclaimed the young man. 
 
 " Matt Hager, listen to me. You just tell her. 
 She knows Phe Colton through and through. 
 Maybe she can explain Phe s acting so. It means 
 something." 
 
 " I told you what it means." 
 
 " That s all stuff. You ve got nervous living 
 out there by yourself, or you d never imagine such 
 horrors. Mark my words, there s something be 
 hind it. You tell Jemima." 
 
 Matt tossed his head as if this advice were too 
 foolish for so much as a refusal. Still, Gitty re 
 turned to her work well pleased with his prospects 
 no less than her own. " He 11 tell Jemima," she 
 said to herself. 
 
 And after the short business conference, while 
 Jemima mixed her bread and Matt stood by in the 
 
278 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 buttery, he broached the matter precisely as his 
 sister had foreseen. He obtained Jemima s good 
 will for his scheme and her promise of cooperation. 
 Then, drumming on the edge of the shelf beside 
 him, he went on, 
 
 " So Mrs. Colton s got a houseful this winter ? " 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Every one of em after the daughter, I hear." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 Matt drummed very fast. " Which one will get 
 her?" 
 
 " Not any of em," replied Jemima promptly. 
 " She sees too much of em." 
 
 She eyed the broad shoulders and the averted 
 head reflectively. " I s pose I got to help him 
 out," she thought before she said aloud, " You go 
 there often ? " 
 
 Matt shook his head. " Once was enough." 
 
 " How s that? I don t understand ye." 
 
 " I guess you d understand if you saw how she 
 treated me." Matt spoke with scorn. " Not that 
 I m complaining, nor yet that I don t stand by my 
 father. I d do that in the face of a thousand 
 girls, even a thousand girls like her. For all, I 
 shan t put myself in the way of seeing how she 
 looks down on me." 
 
 Jemima leaned her weight on the arms manipu 
 lating the dough. Her eyes read his features 
 attentively, yet with a far-away gaze. " When was 
 this ? Lately ? " 
 
 " No. A year ago. I went there to pay a bill." 
 
 "Since the Squire passed away?" 
 
AT THE WINDOW 279 
 
 " Why, yes," astonished at the question. " The 
 bill was for the doctor s attendance." 
 
 Jemima s cheeks showed a dull brick-red at her 
 next query. She was divided between pity for 
 Matt and a resentful pride for Henry Fisher. 
 " Did she always behave like that, as if she 
 despised ye for your poor father s foolish ac 
 tions ? " 
 
 " No," Matt replied. " The very night before 
 Dr. Colton died I was there. And she was just as 
 good to me! It was only after I came into my 
 money she showed out what she thought of an 
 Anti-renter that went scot-free and had a father 
 in prison." 
 
 Jemima resumed her kneading. " That s all I 
 want to know." 
 
 "What is all you want to know?" demanded 
 Matt peremptorily. 
 
 " Wait a minute. All in good time. You going 
 to the donation party a- Wednesday ? " 
 
 He made an impatient gesture of dissent. 
 
 " Why not ? Ev rybuddy s goin ." 
 
 " I m not. And you understand my reasons 
 well enough." 
 
 " I understand well enough what folks say, 
 you re purse-proud." 
 
 "I m what?" 
 
 " Stuck up. You keep yourself to yourself since 
 ye come into Squire Mayham s prop ty." 
 
 Matt gasped his amazement. " Well, I never ! " 
 he ejaculated. " Is that the talk ? " 
 
 Jemima nodded. "Don t ye s pose, when ye 
 
280 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 went to pay that bill, likely Phoebe thought so, 
 too?" 
 
 " She could n t. How could she ? " 
 
 "Well, I do know. Did ye give the money to 
 her?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " Counted it out in her hand ? " 
 
 " Yes," in a fainter tone, " I did." 
 
 Jemima hit the bread dough hard. " Well, of 
 all poor fools," said she, " give me a man in love. 
 And he wants to know what makes her act so 
 stiff!" 
 
 " Oh, come, Jemima " the young man began. 
 
 " You hearken to me. Go to that donation 
 party a- Wednesday. Go right up to Phe. You 
 be humble with her. You be meek. But you stick 
 clos t to her. And don t ye take No for an 
 answer." 
 
 " Like Mossy Mix," Matt interrupted gleefully. 
 His face was radiant. 
 
 " Yes. Ye might well take a leaf out o Mossy s 
 book. But yet," alarmed by the effect of her ad 
 vice, " for the land s sake be careful. Don t ye be 
 too sure. And don t let her suspect you re sure 
 at all." 
 
 " Oh, Jemima," Matt cried, " how can I ever 
 repay you ? " 
 
 " Go along ! Repay, indeed ! I guess that s 
 what women s put into this world for, to git 
 men into scrapes, or to git em out ag in. Ye go 
 along home now, and think over what I say." 
 
 Matt thought to such purpose that, on the night 
 
AT THE WINDOW 281 
 
 in question, he appeared at his mother s house and 
 declared his intention of accompanying Gitty and 
 Almiran to the dominie s. 
 
 " I in real glad," said his sister. Even Maria 
 Hager looked pleased. 
 
 Matt ran back and forth between the great 
 scooplike sleigh at the gate and the kitchen, 
 whence he carried Gitty s contribution and the jar 
 of butter his mother added. He seemed so young 
 and so gay that the woman, stricken with sorrow, 
 smiled at his bustling high spirits. " It s good to 
 see him like that again," she concluded, " and it s 
 natural. I guess he has forgotten." 
 
 Gitty came to her chair at the fireside to kiss 
 her good-by. The caress was an innovation, nor 
 could the girl imagine how the older woman 
 writhed beneath it, discerning the commiseration 
 under the tenderness. It was hard to endure her 
 daughter s expression of happiness, however truly 
 she rejoiced over the happiness itself. She drew 
 a sigh of relief when the three young people with 
 their silly clamor had finally left her alone. 
 
 " It s best I should be by myself," she said to 
 the fire, " as long as I can t have father." 
 
 A log broke and sputtered. She readjusted its 
 ends with the tongs. " The children are young. 
 They forget. And that s right. But I m old 
 and I can t forget. It s best I should be alone. 
 
 " Father liked a beech wood fire," presently she 
 continued aloud. " I wish O my God, O my 
 God," wringing her hands together, " not ever 
 again in this world ! And for all that, he s alive ! " 
 
282 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 There came a slight noise outside that made her 
 start. " Yes, I m better off by myself. What 
 would the children think if they saw me ? " 
 
 The noise grew more distinct. It was the 
 crunch of a footfall upon the frozen snow. Maria s 
 frightened eyes sought the window. There was 
 neither shade nor curtain. The black panes re 
 flected a starless night without. 
 
 " It sounded like " 
 
 A shriek tore from her parted lips. Her white, 
 strained" features glared at the narrow window. 
 Her body bent forward in an attitude of rapt won 
 der. For there, looking in at her and the fire 
 light, the comfort and the warmth, stood a man, 
 and one she knew. It was Jacob Hager. 
 
CHAPTER XXIX 
 
 THE DONATION PARTY 
 
 Money never made any man rich. SENECA. 
 
 BEFORE Maria Hager could shake off the pa 
 ralysis of supreme terror the face at the window 
 disappeared. The door opened gently. Her hus 
 band stood on the sill. He regarded her with a 
 silly smile. 
 
 " Well," said he, " here I be." 
 
 At the sound of his voice she leaped forward. 
 Seizing him by the coat she pulled him into the 
 room. " Shut the door," she panted. " Hide ! 
 You must hide, father, right away." 
 
 He looked at her appealingly, like a child. 
 " What I got o hide for ? " 
 
 " Why, so they can t find you." She was gazing 
 about her distractedly. " The cellarway would be 
 a good place." 
 
 " So who can t find me, mother ? " 
 
 " The officers ; the folks that are hunting for 
 you, to take you back." 
 
 " What they want o take me back for, mother ? 
 I been let out." 
 
 Her mouth fell agape. " Say that again. Let 
 out from where ? " 
 
284 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " From that place. You know. The governor 
 let us out." 
 
 " Jacob Hager," shrieked his wife, " is that 
 true?" 
 
 " Honest it is. The new governor let us all 
 out. They was eleven of us. Don t you believe 
 me, mother ? " 
 
 He put out one hand timidly and took a fold of 
 her gown between his fingers. It was the nearest 
 approach to a caress that she could remember in 
 the years she had been his wife. 
 
 " I can t seem to sense it," she answered wildly. 
 " Where are the rest ? " 
 
 The question sounded brutally dubious, like the 
 cross-examination of a witness. 
 
 " They re comin along to-morrow, all together. 
 They thought they d make a time. I told em I 
 was too old for sech doin s. I guessed I d jes 
 slip into town by myself, an nobuddy the wiser. 
 I druther." 
 
 Hysteric sobs shook Maria s frail body. Jacob 
 watched her, trembling. " That s the way I feel, 
 too," he whispered. 
 
 For it was a new man who had come back to 
 her as if from the dead. If, indeed, one could be 
 " born again when he is old," such a fate was 
 Jacob Hager s. The iron will had been broken, 
 the conceit crushed under the merciless hand of 
 the law. 
 
 No rumor arrived at Farley that night concern 
 ing this action of Governor Young. No one had 
 heard of the general pardon extended, as soon as 
 
THE DONATION PARTY 285 
 
 he took his oath of office, to those punished for 
 Tobias Snyder s death. Mercy was shown on the 
 plea that, the insurrection being subdued, there was 
 no sufficient object to be attained by their further 
 imprisonment. But, as Maria had told herself, 
 memories are short and facts soon grow endurably 
 familiar. To her children and to the other guests 
 at the donation party there came, with the evening, 
 a common resolution to be merry and to forget. 
 
 The house buzzed from the noise of high-pitched 
 conversation and the romping fun of children. 
 Matt discovered his sister to be only too willing to 
 leave him to his own devices, while she slipped be 
 side Almiran into a seat on the staircase. He had 
 his set purpose and went about it after a dogged 
 fashion, " all Hager," Gitty thought, amusedly 
 watching his movements. 
 
 He proceeded from room to room on a deter 
 mined quest, even invading the kitchen where the 
 older women were preparing supper. At sight of 
 him Jemima Lane dropped the knife which divided 
 an election cake into generous triangles. " Settin - 
 room," she formed her lips to hint. 
 
 He nodded and disappeared in the direction in 
 dicated. Jemima s eyes followed him with the 
 tenderness a woman has for a man s simplicity. 
 
 " Poor dear cre tur ! " she mused, resuming her 
 work. " He s went an put the ol Squire s di - 
 mon pin in his neckcloth, an he s got on his 
 flowered wes cut. Of all ways to make her for 
 get his money, to dress himself up to kill ! My, 
 my, how foolish a body in love can act ! " 
 
286 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 She was to see this truth set forth again within 
 the next half hour. Shrill cries from the hall 
 broke in upon her reverie, and a fellow worker 
 exclaimed impatiently, " Well, it does seem as if 
 the young folks might keep out of here. They ve 
 got all the rest of the house to train in." 
 
 Jemima looked up. A troop of blushing girls 
 and bashful youths swept into the room. They 
 bore in their hands a long rope tied together at 
 the ends. 
 
 " We re going to make a Copenhagen ring," 
 some one announced. 
 
 Jemima cut another section of cake. " I think 
 Henery Fisher might be in better business," was 
 her mental criticism. She had spied Henry among 
 the players. 
 
 The swaying circle moved here and there in 
 the open space they found. In the struggles of 
 feminine coquetry and masculine persistence they 
 pushed back and back unconsciously until they 
 pressed against the women at the table. 
 
 " Now you childern git out o here," Jemima 
 scolded. "You re in the way. Ye bother. An 
 we ain t no time for nonsense." 
 
 She extended one hand as she spoke, to empha 
 size her words by a push at the nearest intruder. 
 Her fingers touched the jerking rope taut between 
 a ring of holders. Instantly Henry Fisher, from 
 the middle of the circle, had darted forward. He 
 dealt a smart slap upon her knuckles. 
 
 Jemima stood rigid with astonishment. She 
 actually supposed this was his response to her in- 
 
THE DONATION PARTY 287 
 
 terference. In another second, and before she had 
 stirred or spoken, he flung both arms about her. 
 He kissed her a resounding smack upon the cheek. 
 
 " Why, you impident scamp ! " cried Jemima. 
 
 Rapturous shouts arose from all parts of the 
 room, from workers and frolickers alike. " Now 
 you re in the ring, Jemimy," Mary Ann Mix 
 explained with a giggle. 
 
 "No, I ain t," said Jemima. Her face had 
 grown very pale. 
 
 Henry stooped and slid under the rope, his gaze 
 fixed apprehensively on her. As she moved away 
 to the table he followed. 
 
 " You mad at me ? " he whispered. 
 
 " Git along. Ye jog my elbow." 
 
 " Jemimy, ye ain t mad, be ye ?" 
 
 " I tell ye ye re joggin my elbow. I can t do a 
 thing if ye git in the way like that." 
 
 " Then don t do nothin ." The soft voice took 
 on a new tone, one to which no woman ever lis 
 tened unmoved, for it spoke with authority. " Put 
 down that knife. I want ye should listen to me, 
 Jemimy." 
 
 "How can I listen," she snapped but she 
 laid the knife on its plate " with all this noise 
 goin on ? " 
 
 " You can hear well enough," said Henry 
 calmly. It was the quiet of desperation, although 
 that she did not suspect. " What I want to know 
 is, be ye mad at me for what I done ? " 
 
 The busy fingers played with her apron hem. 
 Jemima Lane was coy. 
 
288 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 "You tell me this minute," Henry continued. 
 " I want to know. If ye be, I m goin out that 
 door there an right straight home. I won t even 
 stay for supper." 
 
 Jemima gave her head a sly toss. " Ye neenter 
 feel as bad as all that." 
 
 " Well, I do. I would n t hurt your feelin s, 
 not for five dollars I would n t." 
 
 Jemima sobered a trifle. The conversation be 
 gan to savor of their old relations, respect on 
 his side, condescension upon hers. 
 
 "That s all right," said she with a gesture as if 
 to leave him. " I guess we won t say any more 
 about it. You was thoughtless, and didn t con 
 sider what ye done." 
 
 " Yes, I did too," Henry argued bluntly. " I did 
 consider what I done. That was why I done it." 
 
 " Why, whatever ails you, Henery Fisher, to 
 talk like that ? " 
 
 " I mean," Henry went on in a shaken murmur, 
 " I acted with my eyes wide open, as ye might say. 
 I always wanted to kiss ye, Jemimy Lane. There, 
 now, ye know the worst." 
 
 To his dismay, although scarcely surprising to 
 his sense of guilt, the face he was scanning quiv 
 ered. The sharp eyes filled with tears. 
 
 " Jemimy," he faltered, " ain t it best to be hon 
 est ? Ye see egzacly how I feel. Won t ye never 
 forgive me the longest day ye live ? " 
 
 " It ain t that." 
 
 " What is it, then ? What makes ye feel so 
 bad?" 
 
THE DONATION PARTY 289 
 
 " It s because Oh, Henery Fisher, stop 
 starin at me so. It s because I like you too." 
 
 Henry s gloom disappeared on the instant, and 
 he became strangely bold. Laying his hand on 
 hers, " If that s true," said he earnestly, " I don t 
 wonder ye should cry. Sech a woman as you be 
 to take up with a poor stick like me ! I 11 do my 
 very best, though, Jemimy." 
 
 " Well, first off," she commanded, " stop your 
 talkin so silly. I guess I know Henery Fisher by 
 this time, and I know Jemimy Lane. All is, I m 
 satisfied." 
 
 " The Lord sees that I am," was his fervent 
 response. 
 
 " For all that, you go right off. Folks 11 notice." 
 
 " No, they won t. Not a soul s lookin . They 
 got too much else on hand." 
 
 " I tell you to go away." 
 
 " All right," said Henry serenely. Thereupon, 
 from the heights of his happiness, he perpetrated 
 the first and last joke of his life. " May I have 
 the pleasure o waitin on ye home, Miss Lane ? " 
 he inquired with a bow of humorous depth. 
 
 Jemima was as far beside herself. She dropped 
 him an angular curtsy. " Yes, and thank ye kindly, 
 Mr. Fisher," she replied. 
 
 With this walk before them in anticipation they 
 could afford after that to gaze from afar upon each 
 other throughout the evening. Jemima slipped 
 from the room presently to find Matt Hager. 
 
 " I ve kind o got them childern on my mind," 
 she told herself. 
 
290 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 She had heard that Phoebe was to play the accom 
 paniments for Allie and several other singers in a 
 little musical programme. She went to the door 
 of the sitting-room and peeped in. 
 
 Matt Hager, elaborately patient, stood near her, 
 leaning against the wall. Omar Mix was roaring 
 " Oft in the Stilly Night," at the piano where Phe 
 was seated. Matt shook his head at sight of 
 Jemima. He wore the martyr air of one who has 
 been duped. " I have n t had a chance to get a 
 word in edgeways," he informed her. 
 
 " No, o course not. Not yet. We 11 have sup 
 per in a minute. They must be most through." 
 
 " Caty Acker s going to sing next. She told 
 me so." 
 
 " Hush. You better move up closer to the in 
 strument." 
 
 " Why ? " Matt looked at her stupidly. 
 
 Jemima felt as if she had the entire weight of 
 this love-affair, no less than her own, upon her 
 shoulders. " Because Mossy Mix is rnakin that 
 way," she explained in a vexed undertone. 
 
 It was too late. The important little man, who 
 knew no hesitation, nor bashfulness, who under 
 stood what he desired and was unconscious of op 
 position, could march coolly between the rows of 
 chairs, elbow men one side, beg easy pardon of 
 groups of women whom he disturbed, and so, in the 
 sight of all the world, take up his station close to 
 Phe Colton s side. 
 
 Matt uttered an ugly exclamation, and another 
 at the start, the involuntary glance of dismay, 
 
THE DONATION PARTY 291 
 
 with which the girl greeted Demosthenes ar 
 rival. 
 
 " You go right up there, too," enjoined Jemima 
 from the doorway. 
 
 " I will," Matt promised, " as soon as the music 
 stops." To himself he added, " Well, there s 
 this about it : say Jemima is mistaken ; say she 
 fairly hates me. Yet she would be relieved to 
 have anybody save her from that man. I could 
 see it in her face." 
 
 So in the bustle of a rising audience, the scrap 
 ing of chairs and clapping of hands, he boldly 
 pressed forward through the throng. Phe, spring 
 ing up from the piano, desperate as he had im 
 agined, saw Demosthenes approaching her from 
 the one side and Matt Hager, under whose pre 
 sence she had been nervous throughout the even 
 ing, coming as swiftly from the other. 
 
 " May I have the honor," began the lawyer with 
 his ceremonious bow, " of escorting you to supper, 
 Phoebe?" 
 
 This was to be expected. " To wait on a girl to 
 supper," as " to wait on her home " were ordina 
 rily extended marks of pointed attention. Phe 
 looked about her absently. " I told Allie " 
 
 She was fully aware of her rudeness. She re 
 membered he was her mother s best-paying boarder. 
 But she felt that she did not care. 
 
 Matt Hager advanced at this juncture. No one 
 could tell from any outward show how his heart 
 was thumping against his side. He reached out 
 one hand and took Phe s, drawing it within his 
 
292 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 arm. " I believe I am to have the pleasure," said 
 he. 
 
 Demosthenes was disconcerted. By the time he 
 recovered himself the pair were so far away that, 
 after a step in their direction, he recognized the 
 absurdity of questioning the incident and decided 
 to bide his time. " The insolence of wealth," he 
 remarked to Omar, who was standing by. " Poor 
 Phoebe was walked off without any choice in the 
 matter. I hope she will properly resent such im 
 pertinence." 
 
 Fortunately for Matt, as Phe, with a girl s apti 
 tude for self-torture, was recalling her old griev 
 ance and beginning to wonder if his behavior 
 were not patronizing, he spoke in the humble tone 
 Jemima had recommended. " I hope you don t 
 mind," he began. " I thought you might be glad 
 of anybody, just as a means of escape." 
 
 " I was," said Phe. 
 
 " Even me," the deprecating voice continued. 
 
 Before the girl could reply to this unexpected 
 speech with its mysterious implication, they were 
 greeted by a group of girls seated about the door 
 way of the kitchen. " Let Phe come here with us, 
 Matt Hager," called Josephine Mix. " I ve got 
 a chair for her. You push right in, Phe, and 
 Matt, do get us something to eat. We re most 
 starved." 
 
 Matt could not conceal his dismay at this en 
 forced separation. Phe, however, was obediently 
 ensconcing herself between Gitty and Mary Ann. 
 He followed Almiran and Omar in a raid on the 
 
THE DONATION PARTY 293 
 
 tables. " All right," he answered as the inevitable 
 formula of acquiescence. 
 
 " I declare," Josephine observed, tittering af 
 fectedly, " he s as willing to fetch and carry as 
 if he wan t the richest man in the county. It s 
 real noble of him, ain t it? " 
 
 " Why, as far as that goes," said Gitty ap 
 parently to no one in particular, " money has n t 
 changed Matt, not a mite. He s just the same as 
 he used to be." 
 
CHAPTER XXX 
 
 THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 
 " At dawn the mountain ; after noon the fountain." 
 
 MATT still watched his opportunities. After sup 
 per, as the girls fluttered to their feet with much 
 readjustment of flowing gowns and many sidelong 
 glances toward their attendants, the young fellow 
 placed himself in Phe s path and, unheeding some 
 beseeching smiles from her companions, gazed reso 
 lutely past them on to the one for whom he waited. 
 
 " We re all going to play Green Grow the 
 Rushes, " said Polly Vroman archly as she passed 
 him. " You coming, Matt ? You d better." 
 
 " I don t know. I 11 see." 
 
 He caught Phe s eye at last. " Do you intend 
 to play?" 
 
 Phe blushed sweetly. " Oh, no. I d rather not." 
 
 " Come on, Phoebe," called the other girls. 
 " You ve got to. If one backs out all the rest 
 will. Come on. It s only fun." 
 
 She saw that they considered her prudish and 
 selfish in withholding them from what was a mere 
 sport, unless any of their number stood aloof ; 
 then, as they said, all must do so perforce. Phe 
 wondered, as often before, wherein lay the dif 
 ference between herself and these light-hearted, 
 
THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 295 
 
 unthinking hoydens to whom a kissing game was 
 only fun. 
 
 " Oh, very well," said she hurriedly, " I 11 play 
 for a little while. But I have a headache." 
 
 With this loophole for escape according to cir 
 cumstances, she followed the other girls, and Matt 
 followed her. They entered the sitting-room, where 
 the furniture had been pushed flatly against the 
 wall, and a dancing ring of mirthmakers occupied 
 the centre of the floor. 
 
 " Green grow the rushes, O, 
 Green grow the rushes, O. 
 Kiss her quick and let her go. 
 Do not let her mother know." 
 
 An untuneful chorus chanted the lines. A 
 youth from the centre of the circle made a dash 
 toward a girl standing near the last arrivals. 
 
 " Oh, Mr. Rockwell s playing," said Mary Ann 
 over her shoulder. 
 
 They edged their way into places, all the 
 laughing girls and the three or four young men, 
 all but Phe and Mathice Hager. She was un 
 noticed in the press forward, and looked up at 
 Matt, an expression in her eyes that made him 
 long to thrust his broad shoulders between her 
 and the others. " I can t do it," she murmured. 
 "I I think it s disgusting." 
 
 " So do I," said Matt at once. " Don t you do 
 it, then. I 11 stand by you." 
 
 However, Demosthenes had joined the ring as 
 soon as he noticed its recruits. He embraced an 
 opportunity, and no sooner had he been selected 
 
296 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 for the post of honor than he made a playful run 
 toward Phe Colton. Those around her fell away 
 to the right and the left. She was motionless, 
 taken by surprise. Demosthenes threw one arm 
 around her. 
 
 The touch was an awakening. Matt, as well, 
 started forward. 
 
 " I m not playing," gasped the girl. 
 
 " Yes, you are. Yes, you are," screamed the 
 others, clapping their hands. 
 
 "Yes, you are, Phrebe," echoed Demosthenes 
 assuredly. He bent his head to hers. She gave 
 Matt a glance that cast herself on his mercy. 
 
 " Stop," he said scarcely above a whisper, and 
 yet Demosthenes drew back. " Miss Colton told 
 you she was not playing." 
 
 " Oh, yes, she is," was the unabashed retort. 
 Mossy threw a roguish smile at the onlookers. 
 " I 11 take my chances of that," he answered, and 
 they applauded his spirit. It was the heedless 
 gayety of young people, simply bred, knowing one 
 another from infancy, retaining much of the in 
 nocence of childhood. To Phe Colton and Mathice 
 Hager an embrace from Demosthenes implied far 
 more than this. 
 
 " Stop," repeated Matt in the same quiet tone. 
 " Don t you see how she feels ? " 
 
 No. Demosthenes could not see. He laughed, 
 without other reply. 
 
 "Come, Mossy," urged his brother, "you re 
 keeping the game. Hurry." 
 
 " Green grow the rushes, O." 
 
THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 297 
 
 Matt was in truth " all Hager." He laid a firm 
 hand on Mossy s shoulder. " I forbid you to do 
 it," he said. 
 
 Demosthenes gaped at him dully. " You forbid 
 it ? By what right ? " 
 
 " By the best right. I do not wish it." 
 
 He turned to Phe. She alone had overheard 
 him, and his face was no whiter than her own. 
 " Come," he added aloud, " let us get out of this 
 crowd somewhere by ourselves." 
 
 They passed from the room together, followed 
 by countless sly comments. And Demosthenes 
 played no more that night. 
 
 The stairs were deserted for the sports, growing 
 more riotous, in the rooms below. Earlier in the 
 evening they had been thronged by young couples, 
 but now Matt took his choice of seats. It was he 
 who led and she who followed silently while he 
 selected a place isolated, although visible from the 
 hallway, at the landing in the flight of steps. 
 
 " Will you sit here ? " he asked, indicating the 
 spot. 
 
 She obeyed again, still without a word. He 
 stationed himself at her feet. 
 
 "Well?" 
 
 Phe s head was averted. 
 
 " Please look at me." As he gazed up earnestly 
 he went on in a trembling whisper. " Are you 
 very angry at what I told Mossy Mix ? " 
 
 " I should be," she replied, viewing her inter 
 laced fingers with interest, " if you had not done 
 it to help me. But you have been high-handed to 
 night ! " 
 
298 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " That s so," he acknowledged gloomily. " I 
 don t see how it was. I meant to be so humble ! 
 Things seemed just to happen " 
 
 " Oh, yes," somewhat stiffly. " You intended to 
 be kind. I understand that. And so I shall not 
 be angry." 
 
 He leaned his elbow on the stair above him and 
 his head upon his hand. This brought his face 
 close to hers. " Phe ! Are you going to live up 
 to it what I told Mossy Mix ? " 
 
 " How absurd ! " She laughed lightly. 
 
 " What is absurd ? That I should claim any 
 right to you ? Yes, I admit that." He straight 
 ened himself, drawing aloof. " It is absurd in me 
 to look so high." 
 
 The bitter note in his voice went to her heart 
 not a very hard heart ever, nor ever hard toward 
 Matt Hager. " I mean You know what I 
 mean." 
 
 " No," said Mathice in a tone of decision. " I 
 have n t known for the past year what you meant ; 
 unless it was the one thing I feared." 
 
 " And what was that ? " He fancied she stooped 
 toward him a little. 
 
 " I thought I was driven to think you saw 
 my position as it was plain to me : I, an Indian 
 and a Downrenter, whose father suffers in his 
 stead." 
 
 She gave a breathless cry. He continued as if 
 he had not heard, " I did n t blame you, Phe." 
 
 " How could you help blaming me if you fancied 
 I was like that?" 
 
THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 299 
 
 " It is the truth. I am an object for contempt." 
 
 Phe s eyes shone brilliant and beautiful as she 
 smiled down on him. " You are an object for 
 envy and malice and all uncharitableness what 
 I pray, every Sunday, the Lord to take from my 
 soul. Oh, can t you see ? You are Squire May- 
 ham s heir ! " 
 
 Matt s elbow went back to the upper step, and 
 his head to his hand. " You foolish girl ! " said 
 he fondly. " So that was it ? I could n t believe 
 Jemima." 
 
 " Have you been talking me over with Jemima 
 Lane?" 
 
 " Why, Phe, I had to talk to somebody. I was 
 desperate." 
 
 Phe smiled. He guessed she was not very angry. 
 
 " I asked her right out what the trouble was. I 
 mean if it was as I thought." 
 
 " Don t say that again." 
 
 " And she gave me the first hint it might be 
 something else. I never dreamed of the money 
 coming between us a little thing like that." 
 
 Phe resented the implied reproach. " It may be 
 a little thing to own," she replied ; " it is n t a 
 little thing to want. But there you can t under 
 stand, of course. We shan t say another word 
 about it." 
 
 " What shall we say ? " 
 
 Matt s smile would have been supremely silly to 
 a third person. There was no third person, and 
 to Phe it was charming. She returned the look. 
 " Oh, what you please." 
 
300 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " You know what I please, to say how much 
 I love you." 
 
 The corners of her mouth twitched. " You cer 
 tainly have n t said that. You ve only talked about 
 why you have n t." 
 
 "Oh, Phe!" 
 
 " And you have n t asked," studying her folded 
 hands once more, " whether I cared a straw for 
 you. You do take things for granted ! " 
 
 " Dear me," sighed Matt, although not as if he 
 were particularly distressed, " and I set out to be 
 so meek ! " 
 
 " Pooh, you can t be meek," Phe said. 
 
 It was obviously not in the least the programme 
 Jemima painstakingly laid out. Yet it had served 
 its purpose, and neither Matt nor Phe ever regret 
 ted his action. He was " all Hager," but it had 
 been proved that the Hager disposition could be 
 moulded by the brute force of circumstances. 
 Mathice was of the stuff from which tyrants are 
 made. The training of his boyhood, under an 
 other s tyranny, the fact that his chance came to 
 him when and how he met it, the sunshine of his 
 later days, the influence of his wife, these formed 
 in him that finest of characters, a fully controlled 
 and fully developed will. 
 
 He had seen troublous times, and he was not to 
 outlive their influence. Peace was apparently re 
 stored. There were no more disturbances between 
 landlords and tenants, the latter of whom had re 
 ceived, or were to receive through future legisla 
 tion, the most of their demands. And still the old 
 
THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 301 
 
 leaven was working underneath the amicable settle 
 ment. 
 
 Twenty years after the day of Hager s sale De 
 mosthenes Mix was a candidate for Congressman. 
 He had risen in that time to the front rank in State 
 politics. He was recognized as an honest and 
 clever exponent of party principles. The Mix 
 family went wild with pride over his nomination. 
 There was a large vote cast, the largest ever polled 
 outside what is called " a presidential year." Ja 
 cob Hager, Nicelas Mann, and Storm Zielle had 
 not been restored to citizenship. They were among 
 the few men who failed to appear at the polls on 
 that third of November. 
 
 But Demosthenes was defeated. More than 
 that, it was his own county which brought about 
 his rival s election. It was in Farley that there 
 was the heaviest vote for his opponent. 
 
 " I am completely at a loss to understand it," 
 he said in talking it over at the Mayham place, 
 where he was dining ; " I supposed I was personally 
 popular. I represent the political preferences of 
 a majority of our voters. It was not money that 
 did it. Between you and me, Mathice, our side 
 had twice the amount they put up. There was 
 some mysterious influence at work. It baffles 
 me." 
 
 Matt looked at his wife. He often did. 
 
 " Shall I tell him ? " his eyes inquired. 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " See here, Mossy," he began, leaning forward 
 in his armchair. " I might as well be frank with 
 
302 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 you. It s no kindness to let it go. This was n t 
 from any fault of yours. It s the old Anti-rent 
 trouble." 
 
 Demosthenes stared his incredulity. " What 
 had I to do with that ? " 
 
 "Nothing at all. But you happened to be a 
 cousin of Lawyer Van Zandt." 
 
 " Good heavens, man," cried the other, " you 
 don t mean they d bring that up against me ? " 
 
 " I mean they did." 
 
 " I can t believe it," drawing a deep breath. 
 
 " You should know Farley at least as well as I 
 do. That s Farley." 
 
 Demosthenes rose to his feet, still shaking his 
 head. " And yet I cannot credit it." 
 
 He was wagging his large head as he strode 
 down the terrace steps. That vanity had received 
 many a blow in its day, but it rose, always fresh, 
 to meet each new surprise. " I can t credit it," he 
 repeated. 
 
 Jacob Hager sat on a bench in the summer-house, 
 sunning himself luxuriously. Crazy Dan, crouch 
 ing near him on the threshold, was shaping an ar 
 row destined for Matt s youngest boy. 
 
 " I the Lord have called thee, to bring out the 
 prisoners from the prison, and them that sit in 
 darkness out of the prison house. Shall I say it 
 again, old Jacob ? " 
 
 " Yes," assented the listener. " I like to hear 
 it." 
 
 Then he glanced up and saw their guest prepar 
 ing to depart. " Oh, Mossy," he called, and strug- 
 
THE MAN WITHOUT A COUNTRY 303 
 gled to his feeL " See here, I d like to speak to 
 
 you." 
 
 "Very well," was the good-natured reply. 
 "What is it?" 
 
 " Would ye mind steppin out o earshot ? I 
 don t want Crazy Dan should hear." 
 
 " Well here, then. What is it ? " 
 
 Jacob put out two gnarled hands and caught the 
 lapel of Demosthenes coat. His tone fell to a 
 wheezing murmur. " I thought I d tell ye bout 
 that lection. I didn t vote ag in ye." 
 
 " Yes, yes, I know, Mr. Hager. That s all 
 right." 
 
 There was a purple flush on the wrinkled cheeks. 
 The voice sank still lower. " I can t vote." 
 
 " Yes, I understand, Mr. Hager. Don t say any 
 more about it." 
 
 " T was too bad if your heart was set on goin 
 to Congress. I m sorry. But ye know how folks 
 are. They don t forgit. An I wan t a mite to 
 blame. I did n t vote ag in ye." 
 
 " I see. I understand." 
 
 " I could n t," said Jacob. " I can t vote." 
 
 There was a little pause. " Father ! " called a 
 clear voice. " Father ! " 
 
 A wintry smile crossed the old man s lips. He 
 raised his head with a certain air of pride. 
 
 " That s Matt s wife, Phrebe." 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 " She s a good woman. I tell ye, she s good 
 to me an mother. An she s all-fired han some, 
 too." 
 
304 A DOWNRENTER S SON 
 
 " Yes," said Demosthenes again. 
 
 " Matt s done well. He s done well all around : 
 his wife, an his prop ty, an his childern every 
 thing s seemed to prosper. But then yes, 
 Phoebe, I m comin in a minute but then, ye 
 see, he deserves it." 
 
 " Oh, yes," said Demosthenes. 
 
 " He s been a good man in his fam ly, an he s 
 been a good boy to us. They ain t nothin he won t 
 do for us. They ain t nothin he hain t done. 
 They re good childern, him an Gitty, an they 
 deserve their luck." 
 
 " Well, I think, Mr. Hager," Demosthenes ob 
 served cheerily, " that you re pretty well off your 
 self. You re looked after and tended and cared 
 for, and proud of your son and daughter. You 
 have a great deal to be thankful for, I m sure." 
 
 " So I hev," old Jacob responded ; " so I hev. 
 An I guess you don t know how much. I ought 
 o be thankful an glad I m free an independent, 
 an got my home an frien s. T ain t anything to 
 fret me, is it, jus because they won t let me 
 vote?" 
 
 " No, no," Demosthenes assured him. " That s 
 nothing, nothing at all." 
 
 " No, o course not," with a wistful glance into 
 the other s face. " O course it ain t. I don t 
 care. An the childern are reel good." 
 
 " Father ! " called Phoebe. " Father ! " 
 
Electrotyped and printed by H. O. Houghton &* Co, 
 Cambridge, Mass., U. S. A. 
 
000129563 3