CHAPTER II.
A little later in the morning Sally tied on her sunbonnet, whose paleblue lining made a charming framing for her fresh complexion and prettyface, concealing it just sufficiently to make one keenly inquisitive totake a second longer glance beneath the ruffled rim.
With the basket of eggs swung coquettishly on her plump arm, and a straywisp or two of wavy hair escaping from its confines down her shapely,curving neck and throat, in protest at imprisonment, the girl set outwalking toward the town, a mile away.
Mrs. Brown had ingeniously delayed her daughter's going by findingseveral little duties for her to perform, hoping the while that beforethe girl should be ready to start the Squire would make his appearanceand leave her no alternative but to accept a ride with him.
The morning grew apace, however, and finally Sally set out alone, quitegrateful for the Squire's tardiness, and partly amused, partly vexed,by her mother's thinly-veiled excuses for delay.
As the girl walked along the road with the springing, elastic step ofyouth and perfect health, and the freedom of the far-stretching fieldsas a heritage, the fresh morning air caressing her cheeks brought fortha bloom as soft and delicate as the rose of a summer dawn, while herspirits, which had become somewhat dampened under her mother's recentbickerings, gradually grew soothed and calmed under the tranquil charmof the new-born day.
Now and then a bird, startled at her approach, flew from hedge to hedgeacross the road, piping loudly in affected alarm as it went, while in asofter strain came the gentle lowing of cattle from a pasture near athand, and in the tall grass and dusty weeds along the way the autumnalchorus of insects had begun, conducted by the shrill-toned cricket.
At the top of the first hill that arose between the gate and town Sallypaused a moment--not that she was tired, or even spent of breath--andlooked back. The picture that she saw was one of serene beauty, withwide stretches of fallow fields, bathed in the golden tranquility of aperfect October day, and dumb with the spell of restfulness and mysticbrooding that this season brings.
In the far distance a long, ragged line of hills melted into the softblue sky-line, and over these shadowy sentinels, standing a-row, thepurplish haze of autumn hung like a diaphanous curtain stretchingbetween the lowlands and the hill country.
From her elevated vantage ground the girl could see the toll-house verydistinctly, though she herself was partly hidden by a small clump ofyoung locusts under which she had paused. As she looked toward her homethe Squire's old buggy came in sight around a curve of the road andstopped at the gate. Her mother came out and presently pointed in thedirection of town, while the Squire gave his horse a cut of the whip andstarted up the road at a much brisker pace, it seemed to Sally, thanbefore the gate was reached.
"Mother's told him that he might overtake me," she muttered, grimlysmiling at the thought. "I'll see that he don't," she added,resolutely.
She stood for a few moments debating the situation, then looked towardthe town. The distance was but half traveled, and the Squire mustcertainly overtake her before her destination was reached. There was asmaller hill beyond, and toward this she now set out briskly, fullydetermined to cover as much of the way as possible, so that, if finallyovertaken, the ride would prove but a short one at best.
When she reached the brow of the second hill the Squire was lost tosight behind the first one, and just then a plan of escape happilysuggested itself as she reached a low stone wall running for somedistance along one side of the road. She lightly climbed themoss-covered stones and crouched down behind them in a clump ofgolden-rod, waiting in covert until the Squire should pass.
Soon she heard an approaching vehicle, which she knew to be the Squire'sfrom the familiar joggle of loose bolts, and close upon its cominganother sound fell on her alert ear, as if a horseman were riding fromthe direction of the town. The person on horseback and Squire Bixler metand came to a halt in the middle of the road, almost in front of thatportion of the stone wall behind which the girl had taken refuge.
After the exchange of a brief greeting, the Squire said, abruptly:
"Well, what progress have you made? Any?"
"Well, Squire, I think he's goin' to jine," answered the horseman, inthe peculiar drawling tones suggestive of the hill country, whoseboundary lay purple and hazy along the distant horizon.
"You _think_ he is?" cried the Squire impatiently, with a ripping oath."What do you _know_ about it?"
"That when I see him again he is to tell me if he's made up his mind tocome to the next meetin' place. If he does, of course, he'll jine theband."
"And what does the band propose doing?" asked the Squire.
"To git free roads."
"How?"
"Not by waitin' on the courts; the people have tried that long enough.They're goin' to take things into their own hands a bit. They meanbusiness."
"Yes, and damn 'em, they'll find that others mean business, too!"retorted the Squire, impetuously. "However, keep your eyes and earsopen, and you'll soon hear the jingle of money in your pockets."
"I'll try to keep you posted, but it's risky business for me."
"You're all safe," insisted the Squire, "and you're sure of good pay.I'd like to get the young rascal in the clutches of the law," added thespeaker, with sudden vindictiveness, "and if ever I do, I'll promise tomake it hot for him."
"You can trap him before a great while, I think, or at least get him inso tight a place that it will be safer for him to leave this part of thecountry."
"Well, if I can't run him to ground, I'd at least like to run him away,"admitted the Squire, frankly.
"It's your best chance for winnin' the gal," said the horseman, with ameaning laugh.
"You keep an eye on his movements, and I'll attend to winning the girl,"answered the other with a touch of resentment manifest in his tone."Did you meet anybody between here and town?"
"No. Was you expectin' to overtake some one?" questioned the horseman.
"Well, nobody in particular," answered the Squire, evasively. "I wasjust thinking that there wasn't much travel over the road this morning."
"Not as much as there will be when there's no toll to pay," said theother, with a meaning laugh, as he rode away.
The girl, crouching amid the tall weeds, waited until the rattlingvehicle was well over the intervening hill before she ventured from herhiding place. When she gained the road once more her face wore a graveand thoughtful look.
It was evident that mischief was brewing in this quarter for somebody.Who was it the Squire was so eager to get into the clutches of the law,and what band was this person about to join? It seemed to be some secretand illegal organization. No names had been called, yet a sudden subtleintuition warned Sally that she was, in point of fact, one of theinterested parties to the conversation just overheard, and that theother person who had gained the Squire's avowed enmity, and for whosespeedy undoing he was even now planning, was none other than his ownnephew and her sweetheart--Milton Derr.