Cap'n, mighty mod'rate weather we're having for this time of year, ain't it? What's new down your way? That's right, have a chair."
The Captain had no doubt anticipated this cordial invitation, for he seated himself before it was given, and, crossing his legs, extended his dripping rubber boots toward the fire. The rain was still falling, and it beat against the windows of the saloon in gusts.
"Web," said Captain Eri, "set down a minute. I want to talk to you."
"Why, sure!" exclaimed the genial man of business, pulling up another chair. "Have a cigar, won't you? You don't come to see me very often, and I feel's though we ought to celebrate. Ha! ha! ha!"
"No, I guess not, thank you," was the answer. "I'll smoke my pipe, if it's all the same to you."
Mr. Saunders didn't mind in the least, but thought he would have a cigar himself. So he lit one and smoked in silence as the Captain filled his pipe. "Web" knew that this was something more than an ordinary social visit. Captain Eri's calls at the billiard room were few and far between. The Captain, for his part, knew what his companion was thinking, and the pair watched each other through the smoke.
The pipe drew well, and the Captain sent a blue cloud whirling toward the ceiling. Then he asked suddenly, "Web, how much money has Elsie Preston paid you altogether?"
Mr. Saunders started the least bit, and his small eyes narrowed a trifle. But the innocent surprise in his reply was a treat to hear.
"Elsie? Paid ME?" he asked.
"Yes. How much has she paid you?"
"I don't know what you mean."
"Yes, you do. She's been payin' you money reg'lar for more 'n a month. I want to know how much it is."
"Now, Cap'n Hedge, I don't know what you're talkin' about. Nobody's paid me a cent except them that's owed me. Who did you say? Elsie Preston? That's the school-teacher, ain't it?"
"Web, you're a liar, and always was, but you needn't lie to me this mornin', 'cause it won't be healthy; I don't feel like hearin' it. You understand that, do you?"
Mr. Saunders thought it time to bluster a little. He rose to his feet threateningly.
"Cap'n Hedge," he said, "no man 'll call me a liar."
"There's a precious few that calls you anything else."
"You're an old man, or I'd--"
"Never you mind how old I am. A minute ago you said I didn't look more 'n forty; maybe I don't feel any older, either."
"If that Preston girl has told you any--"
"She hasn't told me anything. She doesn't know that I know anything. But I do know. I was in the entry upstairs at the schoolhouse for about ten minutes last night."
Mr. Saunders' start was perceptible this time. He stood for a moment without speaking. Then he jerked the chair around, threw himself into it, and said cautiously, "Well, what of it?"
"I come up from the house to git Elsie home 'cause 'twas rainin'. I was told you was with her, and I thought there was somethin' crooked goin' on; fact is, I had a suspicion what 'twas. So when I got up to the door I didn't go in right away; I jest stood outside."
"Listenin', hey! Spyin'!"
"Yup. I don't think much of folks that listens, gin'rally speakin', but there's times when I b'lieve in it. When I'm foolin' with a snake I'd jest as soon hit him from behind as in front. I didn't hear much, but I heard enough to let me know that you'd been takin' money from that girl right along. And I think I know why."
"You do, hey?"
"Yup."
Then Mr. Saunders asked the question that a bigger rascal than he had asked some years before. He leaned back in his chair, took a pull at his cigar, and said sneeringly, "Well, what are you goin' to do 'bout it?"
"I'm goin' to stop it, and I'm goin' to make you give the money back. How much has she paid you?"
"None of your d--n bus'ness."
The Captain rose to his feet. Mr. Saunders sprang up, also, and reached for the coal shovel, evidently expecting trouble. But if he feared a physical assault, his fear was groundless. Captain Eri merely took up his coat.
"Maybe it ain't none of my bus'ness," he said. "I ain't a s'lectman nor sheriff. But there's such things in town, and p'raps they'll be int'rested. Seems to me that I've heard that blackmailin' has got folks into State's prison afore now."
"Is that so? Never heard that folks that set fire to other people's prop'ty got there, did you? Yes, and folks that helps 'em gits there, too, sometimes. Who was it hid a coat a spell ago?"
It was Captain Eri's turn to start. He hesitated a moment, tossed the pea jacket back on the settee and sat down once more. Mr. Saunders watched him, grinning triumphantly.
"Well?" he said with a sneer.
"A coat, you say?"
"Yes, a coat. Maybe you know who hid it; I can guess, myself. That coat was burned some. How do you s'pose it got burned? And say! who used to wear a big white hat round these diggin's? Ah, ha! Who did?"
There was no doubt about the Captain's start this time. He wheeled sharply in his chair, and looked at the speaker.
"Humph!" he exclaimed. "You found that hat, did you?"
"That's what I done! And where do you think I found it? Why, right at the back of my shed where the fire started. And there'd been a pile of shavin's there, too, and there'd been kerosene on 'em. Who smashed the bottle over in the field, hey?"
Captain Eri seemed to be thinking. "Web" evidently set his own interpretation on this silence, for he went on, raising his voice as he did so.
"Did you think I was fool enough not to know who set that fire? I knew the night she burned, and when I met Dr. Palmer jest comin' from your house, and he told me how old Baxter was took sick goin' to the fire--oh, yes, GOIN'--I went up on that hill right off, and I hunted and I found things, and what I found I kept. And what I found when I pulled that burned shed to pieces I kept, too. And I've got 'em yit!"
"You have, hey? Dear! dear!"
"You bet I have! And somebody's goin' to pay for 'em. Goin' to pay, pay, PAY! Is that plain?"
The Captain made no answer. He thrust his hands into his pockets and looked at the stove dolefully, so it seemed to the man of business.
"Fust off I thought I'd have the old cuss jailed," continued Mr. Saunders. "Then, thinks I, 'No, that won't pay me for my buildin' and my bus'ness hurt and all that.' So I waited for Baxter to git well, meanin' to make him pay or go to the jug. But he stayed sick a-purpose, I b'lieve, the mean, white-headed, psalm-singin'--"
Captain Eri moved uneasily and broke in, "You got your insurance money, didn't you?"
"Yes, I did, but whose fault is that? 'Twa'n't his, nor any other darned 'Come-Outer's.' It don't pay me for my trouble, nor it don't make me square with the gang. I gen'rally git even sometime or 'nother, and I'll git square now. When that girl come here, swellin' 'round and puttin' on airs, I see my chance, and told her to pay up or her granddad would be shoved into Ostable jail. That give her the jumps, I tell you!"
"You wrote her a letter, didn't you?"
"You bet I did! She come 'round to see me in a hurry. Said she didn't have no money. I told her her granddad did, an she could git that or go to work and earn some. I guess she thought she'd ruther work. Oh, I've got her and her prayin', house-burnin' granddad where I want 'em, and I've got you, too, Eri Hedge, stickin' your oar in. Talk to me 'bout blackmail!