Part 65 (2/2)
But Grant was not interested in power on a white horse, nor was he interested in the woman who marched with him. His face kept turning to the crowd from South Harvey that straggled beside him outside of the line of hors.e.m.e.n about him. Now and then Grant caught the eyes of a leader or of a friend and to such a one he would speak some earnest word of cheer or give some belated order or message. Only once did Laura divert him from the stragglers along the way. It was when Ahab Wright ducked his head and drew down his office window in the second story of the Wright & Perry building. ”At least,” said Laura, ”it's a lesson worth learning in human nature. I'll know how much a smile is worth after this or the mere nod of a head. Not that I need it to sustain me, Grant,” she went on seriously, ”so far as I'm concerned, but I can feel how it would be to--well, to some one who needed it.”
Under the murmur of the crowd, Laura continued: ”I know exactly with what emotion pretty little Mrs. Joe Calvin will hear of this episode.”
”What?” queried Grant absently. His attention left her again, for the men from South Harvey at whom he was directing volts of courage from his blazing eyes.
”Well--she'll be scared to death for fear mother and I will cut her socially for it! She's dying to get into the inner circle, and she'll abuse little Joe for this--which,” smiled Laura, ”will be my revenge, and will be badly needed by little Joe.” But she was talking to deaf ears.
A street car halted them before Brotherton's store for a minute. Grant looked anxiously in the door way, and saw only Miss Calvin, who turned away her head, after smiling at her brother.
”I wonder where George can be?” asked Grant.
”Don't you know?” replied Laura, looking wonderingly at him. ”There's a little boy at their house!”
The crowd was hooting and cheering and the procession was just ready to turn into the court house corner, when Grant felt Laura's quick hand clasp. Grant was staring at Kenyon, white and wild-eyed, standing near them on the curb.
”Yes,” he said in a low voice, ”I see the poor kid.”
”No--no,” she cried, ”look down the block--see that electric! There comes father, bringing mother back from the depot--Oh, Grant--I don't mind for me, I don't mind much for father--but mother--won't some one turn them up that street! Oh, Grant--Grant, look!”
Less than one hundred feet before them the electric runabout was beginning to wobble unsteadily. The guiding hand was trembling and nervous. Mrs. Nesbit, leaning forward with horror in her face, was clutching at her husband's arm, forgetful of the danger she was running.
The old Doctor's eyes were wide and staring. He bore unsteadily down upon the procession, and a few feet from the head of the line, he jumped from the machine. He was an old man, and every year of his seventy-five years dragged at his legs, and clutched his shaking arms.
”Joe Calvin--you devil,” he screamed, and drew back his cane, ”let her go--let her go.”
The crowd stood mute. A blow from the cane cracked on the young legs as the Doctor cried:
”Oh, you coward--” and again lifted his cane. Joe Calvin tried to back the prancing horse away. The blow hit the horse on the face, and it reared, and for a second, while the crowd looked away in horror, lunged above the helpless old man. Then, losing balance, the great white horse fell upon the Doctor; but as the hoofs grazed his face, Kenyon Adams had the old man round the waist and flung him aside. But Kenyon went down under the horse. Calvin turned his horse; some one picked up the fainting youth, and he was beside Mrs. Nesbit in the car a moment later, a limp, unconscious thing. Grant and Laura ran to the car. Dr. Nesbit stood dazed and impotent--an old man whose glory was of yesterday--a weak old man, scorned and helpless. He turned away trembling with a nervous palsy, and when he reached the side of the machine, his daughter, trying to hide her manacled hand, kissed him and said soothingly:
”It's all right, father--young Joe's vexed at something I said down in the Valley; he'll get over it in an hour. Then I'll come home.”
”And,” gasped Mrs. Nesbit, ”he--that whippersnapper,” she gulped, ”dared--to lay hands on you; to--”
Laura shook her head, to stop her mother from speaking of the handcuff,--”to make you walk through Market Street--while,” but she could get no further. The crowd surrounded them. And in the midst of the jostling and milling, the Doctor's instinct rose stronger than his rage.
He was fumbling for his medicine case, and trying to find something for Kenyon. The old hands were at the young pulse, and he said unsteadily:
”He'll be around in a few minutes.”
Some one in the crowd offered a big automobile. The Doctor got in, waved to his daughter, and followed Mrs. Nesbit up the hill.
”You young upstart,” he cried, shaking his fist at Calvin as the car turned around, ”I'll be down in ten minutes and see to you!” The provost marshal turned his white steed and began gathering up his procession and his prisoners. But the spell was broken. The mind of the crowd took in an idea. It was that a shameful thing was happening to a woman. So it hissed young Joe Calvin. Such is the grat.i.tude of republics.
In the court house, the provost marshal, sitting behind an imposing desk, decided that he would hold Mrs. Van Dorn under $100 bond to keep the peace and release her upon her own recognizance.
”Well,” she replied, ”Little Joe, I'll sign no peace bond, and if it wasn't for my parents--I'd make you lock me up.”
Her hand was free as she spoke. ”As it is--I'm going back to South Harvey. I'll be there until this strike is settled; you'll have no trouble in finding me.” She hurried home. As she approached the house, she saw in the yard and on the veranda, groups of sympathetic neighbors.
In the hall way were others. Laura hurried into the Doctor's little office just as he was setting Kenyon's broken leg and had begun to bind the splints upon it. Kenyon lay unconscious. Mrs. Nesbit and Lila hovered over him, each with her hands full of surgical bandages, and cotton and medicine. Mrs. Nesbit's face was drawn and anxious.
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