The Indianapolis journal. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1867-1904, 1885-03-22

L Oh pdClucaLiOu Il 0ueIFU I'd make Efltuu1 WI
you for Aison's sake. That's not to be. Well
and good. You and will settle this matter be-
| tween ourselves now, Mr.. Graham; and brag viii
not do it; and buster will not do it, and calling
names will not do it. Thief, My good man that
/ is very ugly word It's that want to know
who is the thief --r
Twill you leave my houseln the farmer said.
/ springing to his feet
"No. / will not. And will not leave this
| room until / have said my say was the calm
| reioinder, though Jamesons lips were rather
| pale and his eyes full of dangerous fire. mind
| you Alison will be guided by me--that's one
| thing you may make sure of; and I'm thinking
/ it's time there was settlement about her share
| in the farm that was left her by her father.
Where has that gone to all these yearsa Not
penny has she had to spend on herself except for
clothes, and she's clad like servant lass; she is
| but servant lass but that she gets no wages.
| Where's her money! Where's her fathers will,
that she can tell what belongs to herr And you
think that everything is to go it is, the lass
| shaving away at keeping the house for you, and
never to think OF altering her condition, and
never to ask questions, but to let you make
away with her money from year to year! But
| there's an end to that now-theres an end; and
the lawyers at Inverness will be called in to de-
clare who is the thief"
Rage pure and simple seemed to have para
| lyzed the old farmer, but only for few seconds.
With kind of inarticuate cry of you scoun-
| drel! you scoundrelm he sprang forward with up
lifted arm, as if threatening to fell his enemy.
4
| palm outward.
'sDont you come near me, warn you. You're
an older man than am: and don't want to
strike you but l will allow no man to put
| hand on me. I'm going. I've said my say. l
wanted to be friends with you-for Alison's sake.
| Now it's war. And there's them in Inverness
will soon be brought to declare which of us two
| is the thief
| He turned abruptly and left
| "And may the lightning from heaven blast
you ere ever you set foot in Inverness streets!S
| the older man said scowling helplessly at the
| now vacant doorway.
chest, and sat down; he was all shaking with the
| excitement of his stormy interview; but the
| anger in his heart instead of subsiding, grew
| only the more fierce as he thought of the mean
ing of the young sailors threats. He CHANGED to
look out of the window at the heavy-rolling sea
that was clearly visible for miles and miles in the
| moonlight
| '.Ay" he said to himself, ''that is the sailors
comes to you in the end. There are no threats
when there's fifty fathoms O water above ye-
| and would to God you were lying there nowl
| The insolent scoundrel!-and he has got this
brat to 60 with him; and the lawyers at Inver-
ness!-"
| He rose and began walking up and down the
| small apartment muttering to himself some
| times, as was his wont, and sometimes standing
still to look out on the far stretch of wind-driyen,
| moonlit sea.
| There's them that can hurt" he was saying
to himself; land if all the stories be true some
times you can get them on your side, and they'll
| work for you mischief your enemies as
! easily as anything else. I've heard of ships be-
| ing struck by lightning coming out of clear
| sky; how was that but by some interference?
| But he's not on the sea- nor will be for while
yet, suppose; the grave is waiting him there
| wide and deep wide and deep; but it may be
| long time yet"
| He turned to the open door, as if fearful that
| these unspoken desires might be overheard; then
he went to the top of the stair and listened; there
was no sound but the cry of the wind and the
/ the room, and shut the door behind him. and re-
sumed his dark meditations.
'"Phe venomcus snake, to come creeping into
a mans house; but I'll be even with him yet, if
| burn the heather for mile round him. Ay,
have seen them twisting themselves into a ball,
and writhing and writhing the circle of the
| fire came closer and closer on them; and that's
how III have him writhe sooner later; and
| then there will be laugh! Oh, it's very safe
| you are when you're burning the heather; you're
on the outside OF the ring it's the adders that
are in the middle, and lively enough they are
when the flame comes hotter and hotter on them.
And that's the fame would have burning in his
heart!"
| And then he went back upon the line of think
| ing that had occupied him when he was scraping
the last traces of paint from the lid of the iron
| cl.est.
| II have been careful man-careful not to Of
| fend either side: and if they're friendly to me
| now as think they were when the factor rode
into the bog, maybe they would help. Ay, that
| would be the way to get even with him, instead
of waiting for the wide grave there; and maybe,
! if they would set to work at once, there might be
| stop put to his business with the lawyers in
Inverness. They say the wise women can man
| age it, but it's hard to get at them; the fiscal
hunts them and hunts them whenever ne gets
| the chance; and there's scarcely one left now.
| But I've heard of them now and again, and
| could find OUT and if the unknown people are
| friendly to me-if they understand that l never
| took stick a stone from a Sith-bruth all the
| years of my life-then, my friend Jameson. /
may be upsides with you; ay, it will not be the
| lawyers in Inverness you will be thinking of;
you will be writhing like the snakes when the
| heather is on fire."
| CHAPTER II.-BY THE SHORE