and hollerin'.Nobody's goin' to sing a night like that unless they've got cargo enough below decks to make 'em forget the wet outside.And Beriah Doane was over to Ostable yesterday and he says it's town talk there that young Parker--the boy the auto crowd was sayin' good-by to at the hotel--had to be helped up to his room.No, I guess likely the Colton girl objected to her feller's gettin' tight and forgettin' her, so he and she had a row and her dad, the emperor, give him his discharge papers.Sounds reasonable;don't you think so, yourself?"
I imagined that the surmise was close to the truth.I nodded and turned away.I did not like Carver, I detested him, but somehow Ino longer felt triumph at his discomfiture.I wondered if he really cared for the girl he had lost.It was difficult to think of him as really caring for any one except himself, but if I had been in his place and had, through my own foolishness, thrown away the respect and friendship of such a girl....Yes, I was beginning to feel a little of Mother's charity for the young idiot, now that he could no longer insult and patronize me.
Captain Jed followed me to the bank door.
"Say, Ros," he said, "changed your mind about sellin' that Lane land yet?""No," I answered, impatiently."There's no use talking about that, Captain Dean.""All right, all right.Humph! the fellers are gettin' consider'ble fun out of that Lane.""In what way?"
He laughed."Oh, nothin'," he observed, with a wink, "only....
Heard any extry hurrahin' over to your place lately?""No.Captain, what do you mean?"
"I don't mean nothin'.But I shouldn't wonder if the Great Panjandrum and his folks was reminded that that Lane was still open, that's all.Ho! ho! So long, Ros."I did not catch his meaning at the time.A few days later Idiscovered it by accident.I had been up to the village and was on my way home by the short cut.As I crossed the field behind Sylvanus Snow's abandoned house, the spot where Miss Colton and Ihad waited on the porch the night of the thunder shower, I heard the rattle of a cart going down the Lane.There was nothing unusual in this, of itself, but with it I heard the sound of loud voices.One of these voices was so loud that I caught the words:
"Now, boys, start her up! Three cheers for the Star Spangled Banner and make 'em loud.Let her go!"The cheers followed, uproarious ones.
"Try it again," commanded the voice."And keep her up all the way along.We'll shake up the 'nerves' I guess.Hooray!"This was enough.I understood now what Dean had meant by the Coltons realizing that the Lane was still open.I ran at full speed through the scrub and bushes, through the grove, and emerged upon the Lane directly opposite the Colton estate.The wagon--Zeb Kendrick's weir cart--was approaching.Zeb was driving and behind him in the body of the cart were four or five young fellows whom Irecognized as belonging to the "billiard room gang," an unorganized society whose members worked only occasionally but were responsible for most of the mischief and disorder in our village.Tim Hallet, a sort of leader in that society, with the reputation of having been expelled from school three times and never keeping a job longer than a fortnight, was on the seat beside Kendrick, his back to the horse.Zeb was grinning broadly.
The wagon came nearer, the horse barely moving.Tim Hallet waved his arm.
"Now, boys," he shouted, "let's have some music.""'Everybody works but father, And he sets around all day.'--Whoop her up!"
They whooped her up.I stepped out into the road.
"Here!" I shouted."Stop that! Stop it, do you hear! Kendrick, what is all this?"The song stopped in the middle of the verse.Zeb jerked the reins and shouted "Whoa!" Hallet and his chorus turned.They had been gazing at the big house, but now they turned and looked at me.
"Hello, Ros!" said Kendrick, still grinning, but rather sheepishly.
"How be you? Got quite a band aboard, ain't I.""Hello!" cried Hallet."It's Ros himself! Ros, you're all RIGHT!
Hi, boys! let's give three cheers for the feller that don't toady to nobody--millionaires nor nobody else--hooray for Ros Paine!"The cheering that followed was not quite as loud as the previous outburst--some of the "gang" may have noticed my attitude and expression--but it was loud enough.Involuntarily I glanced toward the Colton mansion.I saw no one at the windows or on the veranda, and I was thankful for that.The blood rushed to my face.I was so angry that, for the moment, I could not speak.
Tim Hallet appeared to consider my silence and my crimson cheeks as acknowledgments of the compliment just paid me.
"Cal'late they heard that over yonder," he crowed."Don't you think so, Ros.We've showed 'em what we think of you; now let's give our opinion of them.Three groans for old Colton! Come on!"Even Zeb seemed to consider this as going too far, for he protested.
"Hold on, Tim!" he cautioned."A joke's a joke, but that's a little too much; ain't it, Ros.""Too much be darned!" scoffed Hallet."We'll show 'em! Now, boys!"The groans were not given.I sprang into the road, seized the horse by the bridle and backed the wagon into the bank.Tim, insecurely balanced, fell off the seat and joined his comrades on the cart floor.
"Hi!" shouted the startled driver."What you doin', Ros? What's that for?""You go back where you come from," I ordered."Turn around.Get out of here!"I saved him the trouble by completing the turn.When I dropped the bridle the horse's head was pointing toward the Lower Road.
"Now get out of here!" I repeated."Go back where you come from.""But--but, Ros," protested Zeb, "I don't want to go back.I'm goin' to the shore.""Then you'll have to go some other way.You can't cross my property."Hallet, on his knees, looked out over the seat.
"What's the matter with you?" he asked, angrily."Didn't you say the town could use this Lane?""Yes.Any one may use it as long as he behaves himself.When he doesn't behave he forfeits the privilege.Kendrick, you hear me!
Go back."
