II.
"Hol' on a minnet!" Peter Witheby was crying to the major, as thelatter, full of the importance and dignity of his position as protectorof Migglesville, paced forward swiftly. The veteran already felt uponhis brow a wreath formed of the flowers of gratitude, and as he strodehe was absorbed in planning a calm and self-contained manner of wearingit. "Hol' on a minnet!" piped old Peter in the rear.
At last the major, aroused from his dream of triumph, turned aboutwrathfully. "Well, what?"
"Now, look a' here," said Peter. "What 'che goin' t' do?"
The major, with a gesture of supreme exasperation, wheeled again andwent on. When he arrived at the cornfield he halted and waited forPeter. He had suddenly felt that indefinable menace in the landscape.
"Well?" demanded Peter, panting.
The major's eyes wavered a trifle. "Well," he repeated--"well, I'm goin'in there an' bring out that there rebel."
They both paused and studied the gently swaying masses of corn, andbehind them the looming woods, sinister with possible secrets.
"Well," said old Peter.
The major moved uneasily and put his hand to his brow. Peter waited inobvious expectation.
The major crossed through the grass at the roadside and climbed thefence. He put both legs over the topmost rail and then sat perchedthere, facing the woods. Once he turned his head and asked, "What?"
"I hain't said anythin'," answered Peter.
The major clambered down from the fence and went slowly into the corn,his gun held in readiness. Peter stood in the road.
Presently the major returned and said, in a cautious whisper, "If yehhear anythin', you come a-runnin', will yeh?"
"Well, I hain't got no gun nor nuthin'," said Peter, in the same lowtone; "what good 'ud I do?"
"Well, yeh might come along with me an' watch," said the major. "Foureyes is better'n two."
"If I had a gun----" began Peter.
"Oh, yeh don't need no gun," interrupted the major, waving his hand."All I'm afraid of is that I won't find 'im. My eyes ain't so good asthey was."
"Well----"
"Come along," whispered the major. "Yeh hain't afraid, are yeh?"
"No, but----"
"Well, come along, then. What's th' matter with yeh?"
Peter climbed the fence. He paused on the top rail and took a prolongedstare at the inscrutable woods. When he joined the major in thecornfield he said, with a touch of anger:
"Well, you got the gun. Remember that. If he comes for me, I hain't gota blame thing!"
"Shucks!" answered the major. "He ain't agoin' t' come for yeh."
The two then began a wary journey through the corn. One by one thelong aisles between the rows appeared. As they glanced along each ofthem it seemed as if some gruesome thing had just previously vacatedit. Old Peter halted once and whispered: "Say, look a' here;supposin'--supposin'----"
"Supposin' what?" demanded the major.
"Supposin'----" said Peter. "Well, remember you got th' gun, an' Ihain't got anythin'."
"Thunder!" said the major.
When they got to where the stalks were very short because of the shadecast by the trees of the wood, they halted again. The leaves were gentlyswishing in the breeze. Before them stretched the mystic green wall ofthe forest, and there seemed to be in it eyes which followed each oftheir movements.
Peter at last said, "I don't believe there's anybody in there."
"Yes, there is, too," said the major. "I'll bet anythin' he's in there."
"How d' yeh know?" asked Peter. "I'll bet he ain't within a mile o'here."
The major suddenly ejaculated, "Listen!"
They bent forward, scarce breathing, their mouths agape, their eyesglinting. Finally, the major turned his head. "Did yeh hear that?" hesaid hoarsely.
"No," said Peter, in a low voice. "What was it?"
The major listened for a moment. Then he turned again. "I thought Iheered somebody holler!" he explained cautiously.
They both bent forward and listened once more. Peter in the intentnessof his attitude lost his balance and was obliged to lift his foothastily and with noise. "S-s-sh!" hissed the major.
After a minute Peter spoke quite loudly, "Oh, shucks! I don't believeyeh heered anythin'."
The major made a frantic downward gesture with his hand. "Shet up, willyeh!" he said, in an angry undertone.
Peter became silent for a moment, but presently he said again, "Oh, yehdidn't hear anythin'."
The major turned to glare at his companion in despair and wrath.
"What's th' matter with yeh? Can't yeh shet up?"
"Oh, this here ain't no use. If you're goin' in after 'im, why don't yehgo in after 'im?"
"Well, gimme time, can't yeh?" said the major, in a growl. And, as if toadd more to this reproach, he climbed the fence that compassed thewoods, looking resentfully back at his companion.
"Well," said Peter, when the major paused.
The major stepped down upon the thick carpet of brown leaves thatstretched under the trees. He turned then to whisper, "You wait here,will yeh?" His face was red with determination.
"Well, hol' on a minnet!" said Peter. "You--I--we'd better----"
"No," said the major. "You wait here."
He went stealthily into the thickets. Peter watched him until he grew tobe a vague, slow-moving shadow. From time to time he could hear theleaves crackle and twigs snap under the major's awkward tread. Peter,intent, breathless, waited for the peal of sudden tragedy. Finally, thewoods grew silent in a solemn and impressive hush that caused Peter tofeel the thumping of his heart. He began to look about him to make surethat nothing should spring upon him from the sombre shadows. Hescrutinized this cool gloom before him, and at times he thought he couldperceive the moving of swift silent shapes. He concluded that he hadbetter go back and try to muster some assistance to the major.
As Peter came through the corn, the women in the road caught sight ofthe glittering figure and screamed. Many of them began to run. Thelittle boys, with all their valour, scurried away in clouds. Mrs. JoePeterson, however, cast a glance over her shoulders as she, with herskirts gathered up, was running as best she could. She instantly stoppedand, in tones of deepest scorn, called out to the others, "Why, it'son'y Pete Witheby!" They came faltering back then, those who had beennaturally swiftest in the race avoiding the eyes of those whose limbshad enabled them to flee a short distance.
Peter came rapidly, appreciating the glances of vivid interest in theeyes of the women. To their lightning-like questions, which hit allsides of the episode, he opposed a new tranquillity gained from hissudden ascent in importance. He made no answer to their clamour. When hehad reached the top of the fence, he called out commandingly: "Here you,Johnnie, you and George, run an' git my gun! It's hangin' on th' pegsover th' bench in th' shop."
At this terrible sentence, a shuddering cry broke from the women. Theboys named sped down the road, accompanied by a retinue of enviouscompanions.
Peter swung his legs over the rail and faced the woods again. He twistedhis head once to say: "Keep still, can't yeh? Quit scufflin' aroun'!"They could see by his manner that this was a supreme moment. The groupbecame motionless and still. Later, Peter turned to say, "S-s-sh!" to arestless boy, and the air with which he said it smote them all with awe.
The little boys who had gone after the gun came pattering alonghurriedly, the weapon borne in the midst of them. Each was anxious toshare in the honour. The one who had been delegated to bring it wasbullying and directing his comrades.
Peter said, "S-s-sh!" He took the gun and poised it in readiness tosweep the cornfield. He scowled at the boys and whispered angrily: "Whydidn't yeh bring th' powder horn an' th' thing with th' bullets in? Itold yeh t' bring 'em. I'll send somebody else next time."
"Yeh didn't tell us!" cried the two boys shrilly.
"S-s-sh! Quit yeh noise," said Peter, with a violent gesture.
However, this reproof enabled other boys to recover that pe
ace of mindwhich they had lost when seeing their friends loaded with honours.
The women had cautiously approached the fence and, from time to time,whispered feverish questions; but Peter repulsed them savagely, with anair of being infinitely bothered by their interference in his intentwatch. They were forced to listen again in silence to the weird andprophetic chanting of the insects and the mystic silken rustling of thecorn.
At last the thud of hurrying feet in the soft soil of the field came totheir ears. A dark form sped toward them. A wave of a mighty fear sweptover the group, and the screams of the women came hoarsely from theirchoked throats. Peter swung madly from his perch, and turned to use thefence as a rampart.
But it was the major. His face was inflamed and his eyes were glaring.He clutched his rifle by the middle and swung it wildly. He was boundingat a great speed for his fat, short body.
"It's all right! it's all right!" he began to yell, some distance away."It's all right! It's on'y ol' Milt' Jacoby!"
When he arrived at the top of the fence, he paused and mopped his brow.
"What?" they thundered, in an agony of sudden unreasoningdisappointment.
Mrs. Joe Petersen, who was a distant connection of Milton Jacoby,thought to forestall any damage to her social position by saying at oncedisdainfully, "Drunk, I s'pose!"
"Yep," said the major, still on the fence, and mopped his brow. "Drunkas a fool. Thunder! I was surprised. I--I--thought it was a rebel,sure."
The thoughts of all these women wavered for a time. They were at a lossfor precise expression of their emotion. At last, however, they hurledthis superior sentence at the major:
"Well, yeh might have known."
A GRAY SLEEVE.