er straight, and
do it quick."
And when the confession, which went more glibly the second time, was
concluded, the investigator gave the culprit a toss in the direction
of the Gammon farm, and shouted after him: "Go get that calf down
out of that apple-tree, and set down with him and trace out your
family relationship. You'll probably find you're first cousins."
Mrs. Orff had sunk down weakly on a bed of asters, and was staring
from face to face.
"Marm," said Hiram, taking off his plug hat and advancing close to
the fence, "Cap'n Sproul and myself don't make it our business to
pry into private affairs, or to go around this town saving decent
wimmen from Batson Reeves. But we seem to have more or less of it
shoved onto us as a side-line. You listen to me! Batson Reeves was
the man that lied to the girl I was engaged to thirty years ago, and
broke us up and kept us apart till I came back here and licked him,
and saved her just in the nick of time. What do you think of a man
of that stamp?"
"I didn't really like him as well--as well as--" quavered the widow,
her eyes on the appealing orbs of Mr. Gammon; "but I was told I was
in danger, and he wanted to be my protector."
"Protector!" sneered Hiram. "Since he's been a widderer he's been
tryin' to court and marry every woman in the town of Smyrna that's
got a farm and property. We know it. We can prove it. All he wants
is money! You've just escaped by luck, chance, and the skin of your
teeth from a cuss that northin' is too low for him to lay his hand
to. What do you think of a man that, in order to make trouble and
disgrace for his neighbors, will dress up in his dead wife's clothes
and snoop around back doors and write anonymous letters to confidin'
wimmen?"
"My Lawd!" gasped the widow.
"We caught him at it! So, as I say, you've escaped from a hyena. Now,
Mr. Gammon only needs a wife like you to get him out of the dumps."
Mr. Gammon wiped tears from his cheeks and gazed down on her.
"Charles," she said, gently, "won't you come into the house for a
few minits? I want to talk to you!"
But as Mr. Gammon was about to obey joyously, Hiram seized his arm.
"Just a moment," he objected. "We'll send him right in to you, marm,
but we've got just a little matter of business to talk over with him."
And when they were behind the barn he took Mr. Gammon by his
coat-collar with the air of a friend.
"Gammon," said he, "what are you goin' to do to him? Me and t
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