Part 16 (1/2)

”Do you know of anyone who would take him?” asked Nyoda.

The old man considered, with his head in his hands. ”Oh, Mis' Elizabeth, you-all ain't goin' ter give dat goat away?” he broke out pleadingly.

”'At goat's lived here all his life, deed he has, Mis' Elizabeth, an' he wouldn' feel to home nowheres else!”

But for once Nyoda stood her ground and refused to be cajoled.

”Mis' Elizabeth,” said old Hercules solemnly, when all pleading had been in vain, ”you-all ain' goin' ter give 'at goat away, because you-all _can't_ give him away! Ain't anybody _livin_' 'at can give dat goat away! He'd come back just as fast as you'd give him away! 'At ol'

Kaiser's a mighty foxy goat. Ain't no door bin _invented_ 'at _he_ can't break down!”

The old man's voice quavered triumphantly, and he winked at the goat solemnly. Nyoda had a mental vision of Kaiser Bill putting on a Return from Elba act every day in the future, and her resolution took a sudden hardy turn.

”You're right,” she said. ”It wouldn't do any good to give him away.

He'd come back. The only way to get rid of him is to kill him. Then we'll be sure he can't come back.”

Hercules looked at her unbelievingly, and shook his head.

”I mean it,” repeated Nyoda. ”I'm going to get rid of that goat.”

She stood still, waiting for the torrent of dissuading argument that would presently come from Hercules' lips, intending to cut it short, but the flow never came. Just when Hercules had his mouth open to begin there came a sudden earthquake shock from behind, and he found himself sitting in a flower bed a dozen feet away, rubbing his bruised knees and struggling to regain his breath. His first impression was that he had been run over by a locomotive.

When he could finally be persuaded that Kaiser Bill, base and ungrateful animal, had rewarded his champions.h.i.+p of him by deliberately a.s.saulting him with the full force of his concrete forehead, his heart was broken, and he mutely bowed to the decision of the judge.

”'T's all one ter me now,” he said sadly. ”Kaiser Bill done turn agin'

ol' Hercules; ol' Hercules' heart broke now. Don' care whether you kill him er not. 'T's all one ter me.”

”We'll have a Court Martial,” announced Sahwah.

The Court Martial duly sat, and in a most formal manner Kaiser Bill was tried and convicted of conduct unbecoming an officer and a gentleman, and of traitorously destroying the American flag, and was sentenced to be shot at sunrise the next morning.

”Who's going to shoot him?” asked Hinpoha.

”Oh, we'll get Slim and the Captain to do it,” replied Sahwah.

With the death sentence hanging over his head, the Kaiser was led away to await his execution.

CHAPTER XIII

THE PARTY

Dinner hour was over in Oakwood and the evening life of the stately old town was beginning to stir when Mr. Wing stepped off the train and walked briskly through the softly falling twilight toward his home. Not far from the station he met the artist, Eugene Prince, strolling about admiring the landscape, and hailed him cordially. ”I've just come home on a flying trip over night,” he explained. ”Have to go to Was.h.i.+ngton in the morning. I wonder if the folks are at home; I should have telephoned them I was coming, I suppose.” Mr. Wing seemed very much elated about something.

”How's the big case coming?” asked the artist. He had always been such a ready listener while Mr. Wing expressed his various theories About the matter and showed such a lively interest that Mr. Wing had gotten into the habit of talking about it to him by the hour and listening to him express _his_ theories.

Now when the artist mentioned the big case Mr. Wing could not conceal his triumph, for _his_ theory had been right after all, and the artist's had been wrong. ”It's exactly what I expected,” he said jubilantly, and spoke in a low, confidential tone for some minutes.

The artist whistled in blank surprise.

The two men pa.s.sed up the street, talking in low tones. ”Come up to the house with me,” said Mr. Wing presently, ”and I'll show you--h.e.l.lo, what's this?”