"The evidence tends to prove," said he, "that Roberta Lee Frayn has a malign fascination over her pupils--the larger boys especially; that she has lured them into personal attendance upon her rather than to study; that she has incited young men to duels, brawls, breaches of the peace, and--"
I could see that she thought the phrase "it tends to prove" an expression of his belief in the charges; and as he went on her face flamed red once more, and then went white as snow. She stepped back from the table as if to clear for action, one little hand lifted, the other in the folds of her dress.
"Suh!" she cried, in a passion of indignation which was splendid and terrible. "This must stop! If mah false friends lack the chivalry to protect me and mah good name, Ah'll defend mahself, suh!"
Chester half rose, as if to throw himself into the hopeless contest.
"The defendant does not understand," said the judge. "The defendant will resume her seat! The evidence tends to prove that--"
But the decision was never finished; for the girl drew a short, small pistol and aimed at him. We were frozen in horror. Judge Worthington looked unwaveringly into the muzzle.
"Roberta!" said he.
I then saw a rush by Captain Winfield to strike her arm; the pistol roared out in the court-room like a cannon; and as Miss Frayn sank back into my mother's arms, Judge Worthington stepped down with a rent across his shoulder, from which he withdrew his fingers stained red. From under the table, where irresistible force had thrown me, I saw him take her unresisting hand, and heard him whisper to her.
"Darling!" said he. "You don't understand! Let me explain, sweetheart, and then if you want the pistol back I'll give it to you, loaded!"
Then he stood up and took command.
"The bailiff," said he, "will remove the defendant and Mrs. Boggs to my chambers. I shall investigate this _in camera_. I am not hurt, gentlemen, more than a pin's prick, and am able to go on and take such measures as are necessary to protect the court. Remain here until I resume the trial!"
"I tell you," said Middlekauff, "we'll crawl out where we went in.
Nobody can stand ag'in her at clus range like that!"
Captain Winfield's face bore a puzzled and mysterious smile as he emerged from the chambers.
"You can't subdue these Southerners, Oc," said he.
"The verdict of history," said I, "is otherwise."
"We just reconstructed and absorbed 'em," said he. "I was there, an' I know. The judge thinks we've got to handle this Frayn invasion the same way."
"I fail to get your meaning," said I.
"The way to absorb this rebel host," said the captain, "is to marry it.
It's the only way to ground her wire and demagnetize her. I can't undertake the job, for reasons known to all. You're sort of responsible for her devastatin' course, an' I think it'll cipher itself down to Oscar Boggs as a bridegroom for the good of Teal Lake Township, and the welfare of the Boggs School."
My emotions were tumultuous. No such marriage could be forced on me, of course; but duty, duty! Marriage had been to me an asset to be used in my career, some time after my doctor's degree, like casting in chess. I thought of Miss Frayn's untamable nature; and then of her sweetly tender way with the little ones, how they clambered over her while she called them "honey."
"On the main point," said the captain, "the court had its mind made up when I came out. This marryin' has got to be did. Who's to do it is what they're figgerin' on!"
"Captain Winfield," said I, "if the public interests require it, if my constituents demand it, I will make the sacrifice! Doctor Johnson said that marriages might well be arranged by the Lord Chancellor, and Judge Worthington is now sitting in chancery. I will marry the defendant, _pro bono publico_!"
"Oc," said the captain, in a properly serious manner, though some tittered, "you're a livin' marvel! I'll go back and report."
Almost immediately, as my heart-beats stifled me, they emerged from the chambers. My mother was in tears. Worthington bore Miss Frayn on his arm, and both looked exaltedly happy. Roberta, as I called her in my thoughts, shrank back bashfully, more beautiful than I had ever seen her. It was a great, a momentous hour for me. I felt that I had settled the case.
"I shall ask the plaintiff," said the judge, "to dismiss this case!"
"On what grounds?" interrogated Beasley sharply.
"Don't tell, Forceythe!" said Roberta, hiding her face on the judge's arm as I approached.
"Because the defendant," the judge replied to Beasley, "has resigned.
She is about to be married!"
"Didn't I tell you, Oc," said Winfield, slapping me on the back--which in the delightful embarrassment of the occasion I did not resent--"that it was up to you?"
A boy in the audience--I think it was William Middlekauff--caught the judge's statement, and ungrammatically shouted: "Who to?"
"The lucky man?" shouted the crowd. "Name him!"
As it seemed proper for me to do under the circumstances, I went forward to take Roberta's hand in anticipation of the announcement. Then all went dark before my eyes.
"I am happy," said Judge Worthington, "happy and inexpressibly honored to say that the defendant is to be married to me!"
The Hired Man was asleep as the Professor concluded his tale, and some of the rest were nodding. They rose to retire.
"I suppose," said the Groom, "that the only safe way is to let them entirely alone, Professor?"
The Professor, embarrassed by the presence of the Bride, could only bow.
"Gad!" said Colonel Baggs, taking his hand. "Your case goes into the hard-luck file with that of the Nez Perce victim, Mr. Cowan of Radersburg."
CHAPTER VII
"On this lake," declaimed the Colonel, "farther from tide water than any other like body of water on this earth, could float our entire navy."
"Safest place in the world for it, too," declared the Groom.
"I know some awfully nice navy men," protested the Bride; "so don't be cattish about the navy."
They had spent many hours on Yellowstone Lake, and days in its vicinity.
Paint pots, geysers, and iridescent springs were no longer recorded in the log-book; but when, at the Fishing Cone, the Hired Man came into camp asking for salt, with a cooked trout on his line, and the Bride learned that he had hooked the fish in cold water, and cooked it in hot without moving from the spot, wonder at the marvel was swallowed up in protest on the Bride's part, against such an atrocity.
"Oh, Mr. Snoke, Mr. Snoke!" said she, almost tearful. "How could you!
How could you! How would you like to have a thing like that done to you--cooked alive. Oh!"
"Well," said Mr. Snoke. "If you put it that way, I wouldn't be very strong for bein' hooked, let alone cooked. After I'd been snaked out of the drink, I wouldn't care, Bride."
"Well, I move we don't cook any more of 'em until they have gasped out their lives slowly and in the ordinary mode," said the Artist.
"Shore," said Aconite, "no more automobiles de fe for the trout--hear that, Bill? An' speakin' of cookin' fish that-a-way," he went on, creating a conversational diversion. "Old Jim Bridger found a place out here som'eres, where the water was shore deep. At the bottom it was cold, and on the top hot--hot as it is in the Fish Cone over yon. He used to hook trout down in the cold water, and they'd cook to a turn while he was bringin' 'em to the surface an' playin' 'em."