Part 12 (2/2)
They were not alone among the older girls who found Nelson provokingly adamant. He did not flirt. Of late it had become quite apparent that the schoolmaster had eyes only for Janice Day. Of course, that fact did not gain Nelson friends among girls like Icivilly and Mabel in this time of trial.
Janice knew that they were whispering about her as she pa.s.sed; but her real thought was given to more important matters. Uncle Jason had told her just how the affair of the robbery stood. There was a mystery--a deep, deep mystery about it.
In the group about the front gate of the school premises were Jim Narnay and Trimmins, the woodsmen. Both had been drinking and were rather hilarious and talkative. At least, Trimmins was so.
”Wish _we'd_ knowed there was all that cash so free and open up here in the schoolhouse--heh, Jim?” Trimmins said, smiting his brother toper between the shoulders. ”We wouldn't be diggin' out for no swamp to haul logs.”
”You're mighty right, Trimmins! You're mighty right!” agreed the drunken Narnay. ”Gotter leave m' fambly--hate ter do it!” and he became very lachrymose. ”Ter'ble thing, Trimmins, f'r a man ter be sep'rated from his fambly jest so's ter airn his livin'.”
”Right ye air, old feller,” agreed the Southerner. ”Hullo! here's the buddy we're waitin' for. How long d'ye s'pose he'll last, loggin?”
Janice saw the ex-drug clerk, Jack Besmith, mounting the hill with a pack on his back. Rough as the two lumbermen were, Besmith looked the more dissolute character, despite his youth.
The trio went away together, bound evidently for one of Elder Concannon's pieces of woodland, over the mountain.
Benny Thread came out of the school building and locked the door importantly behind him. Several of the curious ones surrounded the little man and tried to get him into conversation upon the subject of the robbery.
”No, I can't talk,” he said, shaking his head. ”I can't, really. The gentlemen of the School Committee have forbidden me. Why--only think!
It was more by good luck than good management that I wasn't placed in a position where I could be suspected of the robbery. Lucky I was with the committeemen every moment of the time they were down cellar. No, I am not suspected, thanks be! But I must not talk--I must not talk.”
It was evident that he wanted to talk and he could be over-urged to talk if the right pressure was brought to bear. Janice came away, leaving the eagerly curious pecking at him--the one white blackbird in the flock.
Uncle Jason had given her some blunt words of encouragement. Janice felt that she must see Nelson personally and cheer him up, if that were possible. At least, she must tell him how she--and, indeed, all his friends--had every confidence in him.
Some people whom she met as she went up High Street looked at her curiously. Janice held her head at a prouder angle and marched up the hill toward Mrs. Beaseley's. She ignored these curious glances.
But there was no escaping Mrs. Scattergood. That lover of gossip must have been sitting behind her blind, peering down High Street, and waiting for Janice's appearance.
She hurried out of the house, beckoning to the girl eagerly. Janice could not very well refuse to approach, so she walked on up the hill beyond the side street on which Mrs. Beaseley's cottage stood, and met the birdlike little woman at her gate.
”For the good land's sake, Janice Day!” exploded Mrs. Scattergood. ”I was wonderin' if you'd never git up here. Surely, you've heard abeout this drefful thing, ain't you?”
Janice knew there was no use in evasion with Mrs. Scattergood. She boldly confessed.
”Yes, Mrs. Scattergood, I have heard about it. And I think Mr. Cross Moore and those others ought to be ashamed of themselves--letting people think for a moment that Mr. Haley took those coins.”
”Who _did_ take 'em?” asked the woman, eagerly. ”Have they found out?”
”Why, n.o.body but the person who really is the thief knows who stole the coins; but of course everybody who knows Nelson at all, is sure that it was not Mr. Haley.”
”Wal--they gotter lay it to somebody,” Mrs. Scattergood said, rather doubtfully. ”That's the best them useless men could do,” she added, with that birdlike toss of the head that was so familiar to Janice.
”If there'd been a woman around, they'd laid it on to her. Oh! I know 'em all--the hull kit an' bilin' of 'em.”
Janice tried to smile at this; but the woman's beadlike eyes seemed to be boring with their glance right through the girl and this made her extremely uncomfortable.
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