CHAPTER III.
When the pretty toll-taker reached town she disposed of her basket ofeggs at even a higher price than Foster Crain, the poultry vendor, hadquoted--she was a famous hand at bargaining and a shrewd trader--thenset about making some purchases.
She saw the Squire's horse and buggy standing at a hitching post nearthe courthouse, and determined that she would wait until the vehicle haddisappeared before she started back home. Therefore she dallied over hershopping in a truly feminine way, and dropped in to have a friendly chatwith an acquaintance or two; then, noting the horse and buggy had gone,she finally started homeward.
The day was now hastening toward noon, the sun had grown oppressive,and, with several bundles to carry, Sally felt that the return would notbe so pleasant as the coming had been. She looked about her, hoping tofind some one--that is, some one besides the Squire--who might be goingin the direction of the new pike gate, and with a seat to offer, but noone seemed to be in town from her neighborhood on this morning, and soshe set out alone.
Just as Sally reached the edge of the town, where two streetsintersected, who should drive up the other street but the Squire? Themeeting was wholly an accidental one, but after her persistent effortsto avoid him all the morning, the encounter seemed like the especialworkings of a perverse fate. The Squire was close upon her before sheeven saw him. There was no chance for escape or subterfuge.
"Ah, Miss Sally! Good morning to you!" he cried, with one of his amatoryogles that always sent a cold chill over her and strongly aroused withinher bosom a spirit of determined opposition. "I have been looking foryou all the morning. Where have you been hiding yourself?" he asked, ashe drove up to where she had reluctantly stopped on hearing her namecalled.
"Behind the stone wall," Sally was half tempted to answer, wishing, atthe moment, that she could have availed herself of its protection inthe present instance; but she only nodded gravely and said that she hadbeen making a few purchases for her mother.
"I tried to overtake you early this morning," continued the Squire,glibly. "Your mother said you had been gone but a little while when Ipassed the gate. You must have walked pretty fast."
"I did," acknowledged Sally, with a covert smile. "It was cool andpleasant walking."
"Well, come! Put your bundles down in front and jump in," said hercompanion. "Riding's better than walking any day, and good company'sbetter than either," he added, with a tender leer at her, which Sallypretended not to see.
There was nothing for it but to accept the proffered seat. She did notdare openly to offend the Squire by a refusal to ride with him, thoughshe would willingly have chosen the long, warm walk, even with theadditional burden of her bundles, in preference to his company. As hermother had said only that morning, it was through his influence that shehad been appointed keeper of the New Pike Gate, and it was due to himshe now kept it, so Sally civilly thanked him and got into the buggy.
"If I had counted on such good company, I would have had this oldrattletrap cleaned up a bit," said the Squire, apologetically, as theydrove off. "But, never mind!" he added, jocosely. "When we start out onour wedding trip, I'll buy a brand-new, shiny rig, out an' out."
"_We?_" echoed Sally, with a certain sharpness of tone.
"You don't suppose I'd care to go on a bridal trip alone, do you?"inquired the Squire, laconically, and with a wink of one watery eye.
"I'm afraid you will, if you depend on me to go along with you,"answered Sally, dryly.
"Now, my dear, you surely wouldn't be that cruel?" said the Squire,edging a little closer to Sally, who as promptly moved away. "Haven't Ibeen depending on your going all the while, and haven't I said that Iwouldn't have any other girl but you, though there's plenty would beonly too glad to go for the asking?"
"An' there's one that wouldn't," announced Sally, coolly.
"WHEN WE START ON OUR WEDDING TRIP I'LL BUY A BRAND NEW,SHINY RIG."]
"Then I can show her where she stands mightily in her own light," saidthe Squire, suddenly dropping into a more serious tone.
"How so?"
"By giving her some very good reasons why she should act differently."
"What reasons?" asked Sally, arousing to some slight show of interest.
"Well, now, we'll suppose, for instance, the girl to be you," began theSquire, argumentatively. "You and your mother are depending on thetoll-gate for a living, and it makes you a comfortable one, at any rate.Did you know the toll-gate raiders were at work?" asked the Squire,abruptly.
The girl caught her breath with a quick start.
"No," she answered, quickly. "Where?"
"Right here in this very county. They burned a toll-house just on theboundary line only the other night, and cut down the pole of one gate inthe edge of this county last night, so I was told today," said theSquire, impressively.
"I'm afraid we're going to have a deal of trouble over the matter beforeit's ended," he continued, thoughtfully, shrewdly following theimpression he had evidently made on the mind of his hearer. "The spiritof lawlessness seems to be widely spreading."
"Do you think there's any danger of the raiders payin' a visit to theNew Pike Gate?" questioned Sally, anxiously.
"I shouldn't be the least surprised," answered her companion, with adubious shake of the head. "The night-riders seem determined to make waywith all the toll-gates in this part of the country if they can."
"I can't think they would harm us," insisted Sally, "two poor, helplesswomen."
"Likely not, but if the raiders have made up their minds to have freeroads, as they appear to have done, they would not hesitate to burn thetoll-house over your heads, which would leave you and your motherwithout a shelter, don't you see?"
The Squire paused, and the girl sat buried in deep thought for somemoments.
"In that case, what could you do or where could you go?" asked theSquire, at last breaking the silence that had fallen between them.
"Heaven only knows!" cried the girl, earnestly.
"Now, affairs stand just in this way," continued the Squire, craftily."If the raiders should burn the toll-house--and it is a most probablething, I fear--it would leave you two women in rather a bad plight. Butif you'll only agree to marry me, why, there's a nice home waiting foryou, and your mother will also have a comfortable shelter in her oldage, and neither of you will have cause to worry about the future."
The Squire paused, but Sally made no answer. She knew full well that hiswords were quite true concerning the dependence of her mother andherself on the toll-gate for a living. She also knew that as long as theSquire entertained the faintest hope of ultimately winning her the gatewas secured to her mother, and therefore she had not felt troubled onthis score; but now that a new and unlooked-for danger threatened in theunusual and unexpected presence of the raiders, she tremulously askedherself, "What, indeed, if the toll-houses were destroyed, would becomeof her and her mother?"
The girl felt no fears for herself regarding the future--she wasenergetic and had been familiar with work all her life; it held noterrors for her; she could hire out--wash, cook, sew--perhaps some daymarry the man of her choice when he should be in a position to take untohimself a wife; but, with her mother's welfare also to be considered,the matter grew far more complex.
"Don't you see just how matters stand?" asked the Squire, persuasively,almost tenderly, breaking the long silence.
Sally gravely nodded her head.
"I see," she answered, in a low tone.