CHAPTER XVII.
The morning following the exciting experiences of the raiders' attackand repulse at the New Pike gate, soon after the clearing away of thebreakfast dishes, Sally, on the alert, caught sight of Squire Bixler'sbuggy coming over the hill, the loose side-curtains idly flapping to andfro in the fresh morning breeze like the wings of some bird of ill-omen.Indeed, she felt, on seeing the vehicle, that its very appearancepresaged evil, if not to her, at least to one very dear to her.
Usually she let her mother open the gate to the Squire if his coming wasnoticed in time for an avoidance, but this morning she made itconvenient to be out on the platform, sweeping away industriously, whenhe drove up.
"Good morning, Miss Sally! I suppose you are quite glad to find yourselfalive, and with the toll-house roof still over you."
"Yes," she answered promptly, "glad and grateful, too!"
"What brings you out so early this morning?" she asked, smilingpleasantly on the Squire as she raised the gate which had so fortunatelyescaped the raider's axe the night previous.
"Business," answered he with emphasis, "important business. Before theday is over, I hope to have a warrant served on the owner of that hatwhich was picked up last night. If I can get only one of the rascalscaught and safely jailed, it will not be such a difficult matter toferret out the rest of the gang."
"Have you discovered anything more?" asked Sally, trying to disguise theanxiety in her tones as she made the inquiry.
"Nothing definite, although there's one man among the guards who thinkshe can identify the hat. I'm taking it to town now to show to themerchant that probably sold it."
The girl's heart sank within her at the words. It would be little shortof a miracle if the tell-tale names were not found and the hat'sownership revealed.
While the Squire was speaking, Mrs. Brown came out on the platform.
"Let me see that hat," she said. "It's likely I may know the wearermyself. I was so busy last night attendin' to George Scott's arm that Ididn't do more than glance at the hat."
The squire handed out a package done up in a piece of newspaper, whichMrs. Brown opened, and taking the hat held it up at arm's length,perched on her outspread fingers, viewing it critically, her headslightly askew.
"I've seen that hat before," she said thoughtfully; "now who wasa-wearin' it?"
"There's likely a hundred such hats in the county," interposed Sallyquickly. "I've seen a dozen or more myself."
"No, you don't see so many of these light gray felts," avowed hermother, bringing the hat nearer. "Mebbe it's got a cost mark, or themaker's name; that would tell a body more concernin' it."
She turned the hat upside down and looked carefully at the lining.
"Let me take it into the house and brush some of the dust off it,"interposed Sally hastily, fearing every moment that the hidden nameswould be revealed, under her mother's inquisitive scrutiny.
"No! no! let it be, just as it is," said the Squire, perchance put onthe alert by Sally's manner, and suspicious of her ill-concealed desireto get the hat in her possession.
"Look here! what's this on the underside of the lining of this band?"asked Mrs. Brown, as she ran her fingers around the inside of the crown,and pulled down the lining. "It looks like writing, only it's red," sheadded, squinting her eyes after the manner of one whose vision has begunto fail.
At that moment Sally felt as though she fairly hated her mother's pryingnature.
"What is it, Sally?" asked her mother; "your eyes are younger thanmine."
The girl, after a careless glance, but with a sickening sense of feartaking possession of her as she recognized the arrow-pierced heart andthe two names written underneath, answered in as calm and collectedvoice as she could command, "It looks like streaks of blood."
She partly averted her face as she spoke, for she felt that her motheror the Squire would read in her very eyes the secret she was striving tohide. There was no longer a doubt of the hat's ownership. It wasMilton's Derr's beyond all questioning, and the discovery of his nameand hers written therein was now but a matter of brief delay, as theSquire's next words seemed to indicate.
"I'll have it closely examined when I get to town. It will not be a hardmatter to locate its owner, I think."
"Would you mind giving me a seat to town?" asked the girl suddenly,beset with a new resolve.
"Certainly not." The Squire was plainly tickled. "I'll be only too gladof your company," he said, smiling genially.
"What's goin' to happen?" asked Mrs. Brown wonderingly. It was a newmood for Sally.
"I've just thought of something that I've got to do, and if theSquire'll take me along with him, it'll save me the trouble of saddlingJoe. I'll be ready as soon as I get my cloak and hat," added she,disappearing in the house.
"Humph!" exclaimed Mrs. Brown, looking first after her daughter, then atthe Squire. "This looks a little as if Sally was comin' to her senses atlast."
"Just give her a little time, my dear madam, a little time," advisedthe Squire, smiling all over his fat, red face. "She'll come around allright by and by."
When the Squire and Sally drove off, she seemed lost in thought, andonly answered in monosyllables to her companion's gallant attempts to beagreeable.
"What's the matter, Miss Sally?" he asked at last, piqued at her silenceand indifference. "You act as if you might be in love," he added with ajocose look.
"Perhaps I am," acknowledged Sally turning the full battery of herpretty eyes upon her companion, until his pulse quickened as it had notdone in years. He made an effort to speak, but the words failed him, andhe only edged a little closer to her. For a wonder, she did not attemptto draw farther away. Was she really coming to her senses, as her motherhad predicted?
"Do you remember the ride we took a few weeks ago, an' what you said tome?" she asked slowly, and with averted eyes.
"My dear, I have thought of little else, I do assure you," answered theSquire promptly, suddenly finding speech, now that the dazzling batterywas withdrawn.
"Well, I have thought a good deal of it myself of late," admitted Sallythoughtfully. "You profess to think a lot of me, but I expect you wouldrefuse me the least little favor I might ask of you."
"Have you usually found me a hard-hearted old skinflint?" asked theSquire reproachfully.
"I've never put your kindness to a very great test, as yet. I thought Iwould begin with asking a little favor. You wouldn't refuse me that now,would you?"
The girl looked up smiling into the old man's face, and brought all thecoquetry at her command into play.
"What is the favor?" asked the Squire shrewdly. "I never like to make apromise till I know what I'm promising."
"It's about the smallest possession you have, and the one least valuableto you."
"Well, what is it?"
"I want the hat that was picked up last night."
"Hum--m--m!" said the Squire meditatively. "In what manner does thathat concern you?"
"How it concerns me, does not concern _you_," retorted the girlpromptly, with an arch glance.
"I don't know about that. Whatever concerns you, concerns me deeply,ducky!"
"Will you give me that hat?" persisted Sally.
"You fear it will be recognized?" ventured the Squire, and the girlwinced under the words. "Well, it will be, before I've done with it. Ofcourse I know it's that rascally Milt's hat," added the Squire shrewdlyfollowing up the clue the girl's manner and request had given him."Haven't I seen him wear it, time and again? He had it on Court day,"hazarded the speaker.
He noted the quick start his companion gave, and the look of fear thatoverspread her face and crept into her eyes. A sudden thought occurredto him. He was now in a better position to strike a bargain than he soonwould be again.
"Now, suppose we put this matter on a strictly business footing," hesaid blandly. "You want the hat and I want a wife. A fair exchange isno robbery."
"Don't say that!" exclaimed Sally, as though a sharp pain had suddenlyen
tered her heart. "You are cruel!"
"Not in the least!" retorted the Squire. "It's you that's cruel, mydear! You have it in your power to make me the happiest of men, andincidentally keep a friend of yours out of the penitentiary. The wholematter rests with you."
The girl made no answer.
"The case stands thus," he persisted. "If my nephew is a lawbreaker, hedeserves punishment. As I am president of this road, and a largestockholder, too, and he's doing his utmost to injure and destroy myproperty, I fail to see why I should show him any sympathy or favor. IfI do, it will be solely on your account, not his. It's up to you whetherMilt goes free or is punished."
"On just what conditions will you let him go free?" asked the girlquickly.
"On your promise to marry me."
"Oh, no!" she cried sharply, "not that!"
"Just that," insisted the Squire.
"And if I don't promise?" she asked in a low tone.
"It puts him in a place where you can't marry _him_," answered hercompanion promptly.
They drove on in silence until the edge of the town was reached.
"Here we are in town," the Squire said. "Shall I drive you to thesheriff's office with me?"
"Why are you going there?" asked his companion faintly.
"To give up this hat and swear out a warrant for its owner."
"Don't go!" pleaded Sally.
"It all rests with you as to whether I go or not," replied the Squire,his bold, unpitying eyes bent full upon her. "Milt can either be a freeman or a felon--which shall it be?"
His eyes were fixed on hers in a concentrated gaze that seemed tofascinate her like the gaze of the wily serpent charms the ensnaredbird. There was a confused buzzing in her head, a thousand small voicescrying out, "Save Milt! Save Milt!" Her very power of will appeared tobe ebbing away. She saw only those hard, unyielding eyes, she heardonly those inner voices crying out in her lover's behalf.
"I'll promise!" she faltered.
"When?" asked the Squire.
"I don't know, some of these days," she cried desperately, quite at herwits' end.
"That's too indefinite," insisted her companion. "S'pose you marry me aweek from to-day?"
"Oh! no! no! not that soon! Give me a little more time," she pleaded.Something would surely come to her aid, if she gained time, she knew notwhat. A wild thought came into her head that perhaps she might yet runaway with her lover. At all events, a delay would give him time to getaway, whether she went or not.
"Two weeks, then," said the Squire slowly, "no longer."
"Well," she said faintly.
"Then you'll agree to marry me?"
"Yes," she answered recklessly.
"Two weeks from to-day?" he insisted.
"Yes," she answered again, her voice dropping almost to a whisper.
"All right! A bargain's a bargain!" cried the Squire gleefully. "I'lldrive to the sheriff's and tell him I lost the hat coming to town."
"Give it to me!" asked the girl eagerly.
"Oh, no, my dear, not yet!" he answered, with a grimace, thrusting thebundle into an inner pocket of his great-coat. "I'll just keep it nextto my heart as a reminder of your promise. I'll give it to you themorning of our wedding--as a token of love and affection," added he witha chuckle of satisfaction.