Part 43 (1/2)
Ah!”
The thunder rolled again--ominously, suddenly, while the cas.e.m.e.nts rattled from its vibrations.
”_Forgive Lem and these other men for what they air doin', O Lord!_”
was the next phrase the startled spectators heard. ”_They don't deserve Thy forgiveness--but overlook 'em!_”
The Voice in the heavens answered again and drowned her supplication.
One man screamed--a shrill, high neigh like that of a hurt horse.
Janice caught a momentary glimpse of the pallid face of Joe Bodley shrinking below the edge of the counter. There was no leer upon his fat face now; it expressed nothing but terror.
Lem Parraday entered hastily. He caught his wife by her thin shoulders just as she pitched forward. ”Now, now, Marm! This ain't no way to act,” he said, soothingly.
The thunder muttered in the distance. Suddenly the flickering lightning seemed less threatening. As quickly as it had burst, the tempest pa.s.sed away.
”My jimminy! She's fainted,” Lem Parraday murmured, lifting the woman in his strong arms.
CHAPTER XXVIII
THE ENEMY RETREATS
As the Summer advanced visitors flocked to Polktown. From the larger and better known tourist resorts on the New York side of the lake, small parties had ventured into Polktown during the two previous seasons. Now news of the out-of-the-way, old-fas.h.i.+oned hamlet had spread; and by the end of July the Lake View Inn was comfortably filled, and most people who were willing to take ”city folks” to board had all the visitors they could take care of.
”But I dunno's we're goin' to make much by havin' sech a crowd,” Lem Parraday complained. ”With Marm sick nothin' seems ter go right. Sech waste in the kitchen I never did see! An' if I say a word, or look skew-jawed at them women, they threaten ter up an' leave me in a bunch.”
For Marm Parraday, by Dr. Poole's orders, had been taken out into the country to her sister's, and told to stay there till cool weather came.
”If you are bound to run a rum-hole, Lem,” said the plain-spoken doctor, ”don't expect a woman in her condition to help you run it.”
Lem thought it hard--and he looked for sympathy among his neighbors.
He got what he was looking for, but of rather doubtful quality.
”I cartainly do wish Marm'd git well--or sumpin',” he said one day in Walky Dexter's hearing. ”I don't see how a man's expected to run a _ho_-tel without a woman to help him. It beats me!”
”It'll be _sumpin'_ that happens ter ye, I reckon,” observed Walky, drily. ”Sure as yeou air a fut high, Lem. In the Fall. Beware the Ides o' September, as the feller says. Only mebbe I ain't got jest the month right. Haw! haw! haw!”
Town Meeting Day was in September. The call had already been issued, and included in it was the amendment calling for no license in Polktown--the new ordinance, if pa.s.sed, to take immediate effect.
The campaign for prohibition was continued despite the influx of Summer visitors. Indeed, because of them the battle against liquor selling grew hotter. Not so many ”city folks” as the hotel-keeper and his friends expected, desired to see a bar in the old-fas.h.i.+oned community.
Especially after the first pay day of the gang working on the branch of the V. C. Road. When the night was made hideous and the main street of Polktown dangerous for quiet people, by drink-inflamed fellows from the railroad construction camp, a strong protest was addressed to the Town Selectmen.
There was a possibility of several well-to-do men building on the heights above the town, another season. Uncle Jason had a chance to sell his sheep-lot at such a price that his cupidity was fully aroused.
But the buyer did not care to close the bargain if the town went ”wet”
in the Fall. Naturally Mr. Day's interest in prohibition increased mightily.
The visiting young people would have liked to hold dances in Lem Parraday's big room at the Inn. But gently bred girls did not care to go where liquor was sold; so the dancing parties of the better cla.s.s were held in the Odd Fellows Hall.