Part 54 (1/2)

Wickersham sniffed. ”All right.” He drifted for a moment into reflection. ”The little fool's got conscientious doubts,” he said presently, with a half-smile. ”Won't go unless--.” His eyes rested on Plume's with a gauging expression in them.

”Well, why not? That's natural enough. She's been brought up right.

They're proud as anybody. Her grandfather--”

”You're a fool!” said Wickersham, briefly.

”You can get some one to go through a ceremony for you that would satisfy her and wouldn't peach afterwards--”

”What a d.a.m.ned scoundrel you are, Plume!” said Mr. Wickersham, coldly.

Plume's expression was between a smile and a scowl, but the smile was less pleasant than the frown.

”Get her to go to New York--When you've got her there you've got her.

She can't come back. Or I could perform it myself? I've been a preacher-am one now,” said Plume, without noticing the interruption further than by a cold gleam in his eyes.

Wickersham laughed derisively.

”Oh, no, not that. I may be given to my own diversions somewhat recklessly, but I'm not so bad as to let you touch any one I--I take an interest in.”

”As you like,” said Plume, curtly. ”I just thought it might be a convenience to you. I'd help you out. I don't see 't you need be so--squeamish. What you're doing ain't so pure an' lofty 't you can set up for Marcus Aurelius and St. Anthony at once.”

”At least, it's better than it would be if I let you take a hand in it,”

sneered Wickersham.

The following afternoon Wickersham left New Leeds somewhat ostentatiously. A few strikers standing sullenly about the station jeered as he pa.s.sed in. But he took no notice of them. He pa.s.sed on to his train.

A few nights later a tremendous explosion shook the town, rattling the windows, awakening people from their beds, and calling the timid and the curious into the streets.

It was known next morning that some one had blown up the Great Gun Mine, opened at such immense cost. The dam that kept out the water was blown up; the machinery had been wrecked, and the mine was completely destroyed.

The _Clarion_ denounced it as the deed of the strikers. The strikers held a meeting and denounced the charge as a foul slander; but the _Clarion_ continued to denounce them as _hostes humani generis_.

It was, however, rumored around that it was not the strikers at all. One rumor even declared that it was done by the connivance of the company.

It was said that Bill Bluffy had boasted of it in his cups, But when Mr.

Bluffy was asked about it he denied the story in toto. He wasn't such a ---- fool as to do such a thing as that, he said. For the rest, he cursed Mr. Plume with bell, book, and candle.

A rumor came to Keith one morning a few days later that Phrony Tripper had disappeared.

She had left New Leeds more than a week before, as was supposed by her relatives, the Turleys, to pay a visit to friends in the adjoining State before returning home. To others she had said that she was going to the North for a visit, whilst yet others affirmed that she had given another destination. However this might be, she had left not long after Wickersham had taken his departure, and her leaving was soon coupled with his name. One man even declared that he had seen the two together in New York.

Another name was connected with the girl's disappearance, though in a different way. Terpsich.o.r.e suggested that Mr. Plume had had something to do with it, and that he could give information on the subject if he would. Mr. Plume had been away from New Leeds for several days about the time of Phrony's departure.

”He did that Wickersham's dirty work for him; that is, what he didn't do for himself,” declared the young woman.

Plume's statement was that he had been off on private business and had met with an accident. The nature of this ”accident” was evident in his appearance.

Keith was hardly surprised when, a day or two after the rumor of the girl's disappearance reached him, a heavy step thumping outside his office door announced the arrival of Squire Rawson. When the old man opened the door, Keith was shocked to see the change in him. He was haggard and worn, but there was that in his face which made Keith feel that whoever might be concerned in his granddaughter's disappearance had reason to beware of meeting him.

”You have heard the news?” he said, as he sank into the chair which Keith offered him.

Keith said that he had heard it, and regretted it more than he could express. He had only waited, hoping that it might prove untrue, to write to him.