It was quite evident that Mr. Saunders did understand, for his countenance showed it. But the bluster was not out of him yet.
"All right," he said. "Anyhow, the girl's left, and if she don't pay I'll show her granddad up for what he was. And I'll show you up, too.
Yes, I will!" he shouted, as this possibility began to dawn on him.
"I'll let folks know how you hid that coat and--and all the rest of it."
"No, you won't."
"Why won't I?"
"'Cause you won't dare to. You've been hittin' at a sick man through a girl; neither of 'em could hit back. But now you're doin' bus'ness with me, and I ain't sick. If you open your mouth to anybody,--if you let a soul know who set that fire,--I'll walk straight to Jedge Baker, and I'll tell him the whole story. I'll tell him what I did and why I did it. And THEN I'll tell him what you did--how you bullied money out of that girl that hadn't no more to do with the fire than a baby. If it comes to facin' a jury I'll take my chances, but how 'bout you? You, runnin' a town nuisance that the s'lectmen are talkin' of stoppin'
already; sellin' rum by the drink when your license says it shan't be sold 'cept by the bottle. Where'll YOUR character land you on a charge of blackmail?
"And another thing. The folks in this town knew John Baxter afore he was like what he's been lately. A good many of 'em swore by him--yes, sir, by mighty, some of 'em loved him! This is a law-abidin' town, but s'pose--jest s'pose I should go to some of the fellers that used to sail with him, and tell 'em what you've been up to. Think you'd stay here long? _I_ think you'd move out--on a rail."
Captain Eri paused and sat on the arm of his chair, grimly watching his opponent, whose turn for thinking had come. The face of the billiard magnate was an interesting study in expression during the Captain's speech. From excited triumph it had fallen to fear and dejection; and now, out of the wreck, was appearing once more the oily smile, the sugared sweetness of the every-day Mr. Saunders.
"Now, Cap'n Hedge," purred the reconstructed one, "you and me has always been good friends. We hadn't ought to fight like this. I don't think either of us wants to go to court. Let's see if we can't fix the thing up some way."
"We'll fix it up when you pay me the seventy dollars."
"Now, Cap'n Hedge, 'tain't likely I've got seventy dollars in my pocket.
Seems to me you're pretty hard on a poor feller that's jest been burnt out. I think we'd ought to--"
"How much HAVE you got?"
After a good deal of talk and protestation Mr. Saunders acknowledged being the possessor of twenty-six dollars, divided between the cash drawer and his pocket. This he reluctantly handed to the Captain.
Then the Captain demanded pen, ink, and paper; and when they were brought he laboriously wrote out a screed to the effect that Webster Saunders had received of Elsie Preston forty-four dollars, which sum he promised to pay on demand.
"There," he said, pushing the writing materials across the table. "Sign that."
At first Mr. Saunders positively refused to sign. Then he intimated that he had rather wait and think it over a little while. Finally he affixed his signature and spitefully threw the pen across the room.
Captain Eri folded up the paper and put it in his pocket. Then he rose and put on his pea jacket.
"Now, there's jest one thing more," he said. "Trot out that coat and hat."
"What do you mean?"
"Trot out that coat and hat of John's. I want 'em."
"I shan't do it."
"All right, then. It's all off. I'll step over and see the Jedge. You'll hear from him and me later."
"Hold on a minute, Cap'n. You're in such a everlastin' hurry. I don't care anything 'bout the old duds, but I don't know's I know where they are. Seems to me they're up to the house somewheres. I'll give 'em to you to-morrer."
"You'll give 'em to me right now. I'll tend shop while you go after 'em."
For a moment it looked as though the man of business would rebel outright. But the Captain was so calm, and evidently so determined to do exactly what he promised, that "Web" gave up in despair. Muttering that maybe they were "'round the place, after all," he went into the back room and reappeared with the burned coat and the scorched white felt hat. Slamming them down on the counter, he said sulkily, "There they be.
Any more of my prop'ty you'd like to have?"
Captain Eri didn't answer. Coolly tearing off several sheets of wrapping paper from the roll at the back of the counter, he made a bundle of the hat and coat, and tucked it under his arm. Then he put on his own hat and started for the door.
"Good-mornin'," he said.
The temper of the exasperated Mr. Saunders flared up in a final outburst.
"You think you're almighty smart, don't you?" he growled between his teeth. "I'll square up with you by and by."
The Captain turned sharply, his hand on the latch.
"I wish you'd try," he said. "I jest wish to God you'd try. I've held in more 'n I thought I could when I come up here, but if you want to start a reel fust-class rumpus, one that 'll land you where you b'long and rid this town of you for keeps, jest try some of your tricks on me. And if I hear of one word that you've said 'bout this whole bus'ness, I'll know it's time to start in. Now, you can keep still or fight, jest as you please. I tell you honest, I 'most wish you'd fight."
The door slammed. Mr. Saunders opened it again and gazed vindictively after the bulky figure splashing through the slush. The dog came sneaking up and rubbed his nose against his master's hand; it was an impolitic move on his part.
"Git out!" roared Web, delighted at the opportunity. "You good-for-nothin' pup! How's that set?"
"That" was a kick that doubled the cur up against the settee. As it scrambled to its feet, Mr. Saunders kicked it again. And then the "watchdog" exhibited the first evidence of spirit that it had ever been known to show. With a snarl, as the man turned away, it settled its teeth into the calf of his leg, and then shot out of the door and, with its tail between its legs, went down the road like a yellow cannon ball.
CHAPTER XVII
THROUGH FIRE AND WATER
It was true--John Baxter was dead. His violent outbreak of the previous afternoon had hastened the end that the doctor had prophesied. There was no harrowing death scene. The weather-beaten old face grew calmer, and, the sleep sounder, until the tide went out--that was all. It was like a peaceful coming into port after a rough voyage. No one of the watchers about the bed could wish him back, not even Elsie, who was calm and brave through it all. When it was over, she went to her room and Mrs.
Snow went with her. Captain Eri went out to make his call upon Mr.
Saunders.
The funeral was one of the largest ever held in Orham. The little house was crowded. Old friends, who had drifted away from the fanatic in his latter days, came back to pay tribute to the strong man whom they had known and loved. There was some discussion among the captains as to who should preach the funeral sermon. Elsie had left this question to Captain Eri for settlement, and the trio and Mrs. Snow went into executive session immediately.
"If John had had the settlin' of it himself," observed Eri, "he'd have picked Perley, there ain't no doubt 'bout that."
"I know it," said Captain Perez, "but you must remember that John wa'n't himself for years, and what he'd have done now ain't what he'd have done 'fore he broke down. I hate to think of Perley's doin' it, somehow."
"Isn't Mr. Perley a good man?" asked the housekeeper.
"He's good enough, fur's I know," replied Captain Jerry, "but I know what Perez means. A funeral, seems to me, ought to be a quiet, soothin'
sort of a thing, and there ain't nothin' soothin' 'bout Come-Outer'
preachin'. He'll beller and rave 'round, I'm 'fraid, and stir up poor Elsie so she won't never git over it."
"I know it," agreed Captain Eri. "That's what I've been afraid of. And yit," he added, "I should feel we was doin' somethin' jest opposite from what John would like, if we had anybody else."
"Couldn't you see Mr. Perley beforehand," suggested Mrs. Snow, "and tell him jest the kind of sermon he must preach. Tell him it must be quiet and comfortin' and--"
"And short." Captain Eri finished the sentence for her. "I guess that's the way we'll have to settle it. I'll make him understand one thing, though--he mustn't drag in rum sellin' and all the rest of it by the heels. If he does I'll--I don't know what I'll do to him."