书城公版Cap'n Warren's Wards
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第108章

"All right, then! Caroline Warren, you listen to me: I'll give you till two o'clock to make up your mind to take the money that belongs to you. If you don't, I swear to the Lord A'mighty I'll take the fust train, go straight to New York, hunt up Graves, make him go down to the office and get that note your father made out turnin' all his property over to that Akrae Company. I'll get that note and I'll burn it up. Then--THEN you'll have to take the money, because it'll be yours. Every bit of evidence that'll hold in law is gone, and nobody but you and Steve'll have the shadow of a claim. I'll do it, so sure as I live! There! now you can make up your mind."He turned, strode to the door and out of the room. A moment later they heard a scream from Miss Baker in the kitchen: "'Lisha Warren, what ails you? Are you crazy?" There was no answer, but the back door closed with a tremendous bang.

Half an hour after his dramatic exit Captain Elisha was pacing up and down the floor of the barn. It was an old refuge of his, a place where he was accustomed to go when matters requiring deliberation and thought oppressed him. He was alone. Dan had taken the horse to the blacksmith's to be shod.

The captain strode across the floor, turned and strode back again.

Every few moments he looked at his watch. It was a long way to two o'clock, but each additional moment was another weight piled upon his soul. As he turned in his stride he saw a shadow move across the sill of the big, open door. He caught his breath and stopped.

Caroline entered the barn. She came straight to him and put her hands upon the lapels of his coat. Her eyes were wet and shining.

"Caroline?" he faltered, eagerly.

"You good man!" she breathed, softly. "Oh, you GOOD man!""Caroline!" his voice shook, but there was hope in it. "Caroline, you're goin' to take the money?""Yes, Uncle Elisha. Mr. Sylvester has shown me that I must. He says you will do something desperate if I refuse.""I sartin would! And you'll take it, really?""Yes, Uncle Elisha."

"Glory be! And--and, Caroline, you won't hold it against me, my makin' you think you was poor, and makin' you live in that little place, and get along on just so much, and all that? Can you forgive me for doin' that?""Forgive you? Can I ever thank you enough? I know I can't; but Ican try all my life to prove what--"

"S-s-h-h! s-s-h! . . . There!" with a great sigh, almost a sob, of relief, "I guess this'll be a real Thanksgivin', after all."But, a few minutes later, another thought came to him. "Caroline,"he asked, "I wonder if, now that things are as they are, you couldn't do somethin' else--somethin' that would please me an awful lot?""What is it, Uncle?"

"It's somethin' perhaps I ain't got any right to ask. You mustn't say yes if you don't want to. The other day you told me you cared for Jim Pearson, but that you sent him away 'cause you thought you had to earn a livin' for you and Steve. Now you know that you ain't got to do that. And you said you told him if you ever changed your mind you'd send for him. Don't you s'pose you could send for him now--right off--so he could get here for this big Thanksgivin' of ours? Don't you think you could, Caroline?"He looked down into her face, and she looked down at the barn floor. But he saw the color creep up over her forehead.

"Send for him--now?" she asked, in a low tone.

"Yes. Now--right off. In time for to-morrow!""He could not get here," she whispered.

"Yes, he could. If you send him a telegram with one word in it:

'Come'--and sign it 'Caroline'--he'll be here on to-morrow mornin's train, or I'll eat my hat and one of Abbie's bonnets hove in.

Think you could, Caroline?"

A moment; then in a whisper, "Yes, Uncle Elisha.""Hooray! But--but," anxiously, "hold on, Caroline. Tell me truly now. You ain't doin' this just to please me? You mustn't do that, not for the world and all. You mustn't send for him on my account.

Only just for one reason--because YOU want him."He waited for his answer. Then she looked up, blushing still, but with a smile trembling on her lips.

"Yes, Uncle Elisha," she said, "because _I_ want him."The clouds blew away that night, and Thanksgiving day dawned clear and cold. The gray sea was now blue; the white paint of the houses and fences glistened in the sun; the groves of pitchpine were brilliant green blotches spread like rugs here and there on the brown hills. South Denboro had thrown off its gloomy raiment and was "all dolled up for Thanksgivin'," so Captain Elisha said.

The captain and Sylvester were leaning on the fence by the gate, looking up the road and waiting for Dan and the "two-seater" to heave in sight around the bend. The hired man had harnessed early and driven to the station at least thirty minutes before train time. Captain Elisha was responsible for the early start. Steve was coming on that train; possibly someone else was coming. The captain did not mean they should find no welcome or vehicle at the station.

The whistle had sounded ten minutes before. It was time for Dan to appear at the bend.