It was nine o'clock. A thermometer on the terrace
showed the mercury clinging stubbornly to a point above
zero; but the still air was keen and stimulating, and
the sun argued for good cheer in a cloudless sky. We
had swallowed some breakfast, though I believe no one
had manifested an appetite, and we were cheering ourselves
with the idlest talk possible. Stoddard, who had
been to the chapel for his usual seven o'clock service, was
deep in the pocket Greek testament he always carried.
Bates ran in to report a summons at the outer wall,
and Larry and I went together to answer it, sending
Bates to keep watch toward the lake.
Our friend the sheriff, with a deputy, was outside
in a buggy. He stood up and talked to us over the wall.
"You gents understand that I'm only doing my duty.
It's an unpleasant business, but the court orders me to
eject all trespassers on the premises, and I've got to
do it."
"The law is being used by an infamous scoundrel to
protect himself. I don't intend to give in. We can
hold out here for three months, if necessary, and I advise
you to keep away and not be made a tool for a man
like Pickering."
The sheriff listened respectfully, resting his arms on
top of the wall.
"You ought to understand, Mr. Glenarm, that I ain't
the court; I'm the sheriff, and it's not for me to pass
on these questions. I've got my orders and I've got to
enforce 'em, and I hope you will not make it necessary
for me to use violence. The judge said to me, 'We deplore
violence in such cases.' Those were his Honor's
very words."
"You may give his Honor my compliments and tell
him that we are sorry not to see things his way, but
there are points involved in this business that he doesn't
know anything about, and we, unfortunately, have no
time to lay them before him."
The sheriff's seeming satisfaction with his position
on the wall and his disposition to parley had begun to
arouse my suspicions, and Larry several times exclaimed
impatiently at the absurdity of discussing my
affairs with a person whom he insisted on calling a constable,
to the sheriff's evident annoyance. The officer
now turned upon him.
"You, sir,-we've got our eye on you, and you'd better
come along peaceable. Laurance Donovan-the description
fits you to a 't'."
"You could buy a nice farm with that reward,
couldn't you-" began Larry, but at that moment Bates
ran toward us calling loudly.
"They're coming across the lake, sir," he reported,
and instantly the sheriff's head disappeared, and as we
ran toward the house we heard his horse pounding down
the road toward St. Agatha's.
"The law be damned. They don't intend to come in
here by the front door as a matter of law," said Larry.
"Pickering's merely using the sheriff to give respectability
to his manoeuvers for those notes and the rest
of it."