Part 37 (1/2)
Bill grasped the extended hand and peered into the twinkling eyes of the old Irishman.
”Well, Daddy, you don't seem much surprised.”
”Oi know'd ye'd be along wan av these days, but ye tuk yer own toime about ut.”
”How did you know I wasn't drowned in the river?”
”Sur-re, Oi know'd ye _wuz_--didn't Oi see ye go undher th' logs wid me own eyes? An' didn't th' jam go rippin' an' tearin' into th' rapids?
An' c'd on-ny man live t'rough th' loike av that? Oi _know'd_ ye wuz dead--till Oi seed Creed. Thin Oi know'd ye wuzn't. But Moncrossen don't know ut--nor on-ny wan ilse, ondly me. Oi'd 'a' gone to hunt ye, ondly Oi know'd phwin th' toime suited ye ye'd come here; so Oi waited.
”Set by now er th' grub'll be cowld. They'll be toime fer palaverin'
afther.”
When the dishes had been washed and returned to their shelves the two seated themselves and lighted their pipes.
”You say Creed returned to Hilarity and told of having seen me?” asked Bill.
”Well, he did--an' he didn't,” replied the old man slowly. ”Ut's loike this: Along in July, ut wuz, Moncrossen an' his gang av bur-rd's-eye pirates come roarin' out av th' woods huntin' fer Creed. They'd wint in be th' river, but come out be th' tote-road, an' mad clean t'rough to th' gizzard. No wan hadn't seed um, an' they clum aboord th' thrain, cursin' an' swearin' vingince on Creed phwin they caught um.
”Thin, maybe it's two wakes afther, we wuz settin' in Burrage's phwin th' dure bust open, an' in come Rad Cranston loike th' divil wuz afther um.
”'They's a woild man,' he yells, 'come out av th' woods, an' he's tearin' things up in Creed's cabin!'
”Hod picks up a cleaver an' makes fer th' dure, wid us follyin' um, afther providin' oursilves wid what utinsils wuz layin' handy--a scythe here an' an axe there, an' some wan ilse wid a pitchfork. Rad brung up lasht wid a sixteen-pound posht-maul, bein' in no hurry at all fer another luk.
”Trut' is, none av us wuz in no great hurry--Creed's woman havin'
cashed his pay-check an' skipped out--but at lasht we come to phwere we c'd see th' place, an' sure enough th' dure shtood open an' insoide come a racket av shmas.h.i.+n' furniture an' yellin' 'tw'd done proud to camp-meetin' salvation.
”Thin come a foine loud rattle av gla.s.s, an' out t'rough a windie come th' half av a chair, follyed be a len'th av shtovepoipe an' a grane gla.s.s wather-pitcher.
”Fer me own part, Oi'd seed such loike brick-a-brack befoor, an'
besides Oi remimbered a dhrink Oi hadn't tuk earlier in th' evenin', so Oi shtarted workin' me way to th' back av th' crowd, th' bether some wan ilse c'd see.
”Oi'd no more thin tur-rned around phwin wid a whoop, 'tw'd wake th'
dead, out t'rough th' windie come th' domnedest-lukin' cryther this side av Borneo, a wavin' over his head wan av th' owld lady Creed's rid cotton table-cloths--an' niver another st.i.tch to his name but a leather belt wid about six inches av pants a hangin' onto ut, an' a pair av corked boots.
”Phwin Oi shtar-rted from Burrage's Oi laid holt av a man's-size crowbar, but at that minit th' thing Oi helt in me hand luked about th'
heft av a tinpinny nail. Be that toime all th' others wuz av loike moind to me. They wuz considerable crowdin', an', bein' crippled, Oi dhropped me crowbar an' laid a good holt on th' tail av Hod's coat.
”Th' shtore wuz clost by, an' we had a good shtart; but th' thing that wuz afther us wuz thravelin' loight an' in foorty-fut leps.
”'Twuz a good race, an' wan Oi wanted to win; but, owin' to th'
unyversal willin'ness av th' crowd to get into th' shtore, we plugged up th' dureway, an' befoor we c'd get unstuck th' thing wuz onto us, gibberin' an' jabberin' an' screamin' an' laughin' all to wunst.
”Ut tuk eight av us to howld um whilst Burrage toied um hand an' fut, an' phwin we'd dhrug um into th' shtore we seed 'twuz Creed hissilf.
Twuz two days befoor th' sheriff come fer um, an' in th' mane toime he'd gabble an' yell about th' greener comin' afther um, an' how he come out av th' wather, an' so on.
”Th' rist think ut's th' shtayin' alone made um loony, but Oi put two an' two togither--here's Moncrossen losht his bur-rd's-eye an' Creed scairt witless be th' soight av th' greener--phwat's th' answer?