The Gentleman from Indiana

Men began to come back into the village for breakfast by twos and threes,

though many kept on searching the woods, not feeling the need of food, or

caring if they did. Every grove and clump of underbrush, every thicket,

was ransacked; the waters of the creek, shallow for the most part, but

swollen overnight, were dragged at every pool. Nothing was found; there

was not a sign.

The bar of the hotel was thronged all morning as the returning citizens

rapidly made their way thither, and those who had breakfasted and were

going out again paused for internal, as well as external, reinforcement.

The landlord, himself returned from a long hunt, set up his whiskey with a

lavish hand.

"He was the best man we had, boys," said Landis, as he poured the little

glasses full. "We'd ort of sent him to the legislative halls of Washington

long ago. He'd of done us honor there; but we never thought of doin'

anything fer him; jest set 'round and let him build up the town and give

him empty thankyes. Drink hearty, gentlemen," he finished, gloomily, "I

don't grudge no liquor to-day--except to Lige Willetts."

"He was a good man," said young William Todd, whose nose was red, not from

the whiskey. "I've about give up."

Schofields' Henry drew his sleeve across his eyes. "He was the only man in

this whole city that didn't jab and nag at me when I done my best," he

exclaimed, with an increasing break in his utterance. "Many a good word

I've had from him when nobody in town done nothin' but laugh an' rile an'

badger me about my--my bell." And Schofields' Henry began to cry openly.

"He was a great hand with the chuldern," said one man. "Always have

something to say to 'em to make 'em laugh when he went by. 'Talk more to

them 'n he would to grown folks. Yes, sir."

"They knowed him all right," added another. "I reckon all of us did,

little and big."

"It's goin' to seem mighty empty around here," said Ross Schofield.

"What's goin' to become o' the 'Herald' and the party in this district?

Where's the man to run either of 'em now. Like as not," he concluded

desperately, "the election'll go against us in the fall."

Dibb Zane choked over his four fingers. "We might's well bust up this

dab-dusted ole town ef he's gone."

"I don't know what's come over that Cynthy Tipworthy," said the landlord.

"She's waited table on him last two year, and her brother Bud works at the

'Herald' office. She didn't say a word--only looked and looked and looked

--like a crazy woman; then her and Bud went off together to hunt in the

woods. They just tuck hold of each other's hands like----"