CHAPTER VI.
Squire Bixler, president of the New Pike Road, sat before his wood fire,nodding under the genial warmth the flickering flames threw out acrossthe broad hearth. The weekly town paper, over which he dozed and wakenedby turns, now lay on the floor by his chair, having dropped from hisrelaxed fingers during his latest nap, while his spectacles, graduallyslipping forward as his head dropped lower on his tobacco-stained shirt,now finally rested on the tip of his red nose, and threatened to falleach moment.
Short puffs, as if he were still smoking, came at regular intervals frombetween his thick, partly-opened lips, although his cob pipe hadfollowed his paper to the floor, and the spectacles seemed on the pointof speedily joining them.
To the most careless observer it was all too evident that no wifely carewas present in the house of Bixler. A motley disorder, revealing manyunsightly things, occupied the chimney corners, and encroached upon thehearth. From some nails upon the wall hung a saddle and harness,opposite stretched a line filled with long green tobacco like clothesswung out to dry. The tall mantelshelf was given over to old bottles,cob pipes, and a conglomerate mass of odds and ends of things--theaccumulation of many moons, while dust and cobwebs gathered freely overall--a fitting tribute to the absence of womanhood.
It was past the Squire's bedtime. In evidence he had removed his shoes,but seemed to have dropped asleep while looking over his paper, unlesshe had intentionally delayed his usual hour for retiring.
Suddenly the sharp striking of several small pebbles thrown lightlyagainst the window shutters partly aroused him from his nap, but notuntil the sound was repeated did he awake sufficiently to give heed tothe signal.
Lifting his head with a start, as one who has dropped asleepunwittingly, he adroitly caught his spectacles, with the skill offrequent practice, as they dropped from his nose, then glancing at theclock he got up hastily and went to the window whence the sound seemedto come.
Cautiously raising the sash, that the servants might not be awakened inthe ell of the house, the Squire opened one of the shutters carefullyand looked furtively out. An interrogation followed, and an answer camefrom the darkness.
"All right! I'll let you in." The Squire closed shutter and sash, caughtup the candle, which was burning low in the socket, and went into thefront hall.
When he had unlocked and unbarred the door, a sudden gust of wind blewout the candle's flame as the visitor was admitted, but the fire-lightserved as a beacon, and while the host was fastening the door thebelated visitor passed through the hall into the Squire's sitting room,and walked over to where the fire threw out a grateful warmth over hischilled frame.
"It's keen and frosty out tonight," said the visitor, spreading hishands wide to the blaze.
"I am more interested in other news you may bring," answered the host,setting down the candle, from whose black wick a tiny spiral of smokearose and floated away into the dim shadows that hovered about the room.The Squire clung to early customs, and would not use a lamp. "Aninvention of man and the devil," he insisted.
"Well, I've got some news for you this time--some good news," thevisitor said, slowly cracking the joints of his fingers as he stoodbefore the fire.
"Let's have it!" insisted the Squire briefly.
"Somethin' you'll be right glad to hear," continued the other, dallyingwith the subject, as if loth to part with so choice a morsel.
"Well, I'm waiting to hear it," yawning, to call attention to the latehour.
"I'm chilled through an' through," muttered the visitor, apparentlyunmindful of the Squire's impatience, and giving a shiver, partlygenuine, partly affected, as he glanced up at the motley collection ofbottles on the chimney shelf. "Don't you keep anything warmin'?" headded, turning to the host.
"Do you want a dram?"
The guest chuckled audibly at the Squire's powers of divination, andwith eager eyes followed the portly figure to a small press in the sideof the chimney. The host brought forth a bottle and glass, which heplaced on the candle stand, and, without further invitation, the guestquickly caught up the bottle and poured the amber liquor into the glass,filling it to the brim. He emptied it at a gulp, then slowly refilledthe glass and reluctantly handed back the bottle to the Squire, whoreached out impatiently for it.
"That warms me up powerful," said the visitor, draining the glass withevident enjoyment, eyeing the bottle longingly as he spoke, though theSquire did not again offer it. "I felt like an ice house just now."
"Let's do business," the host suggested.
"Well, he's j'ined the night riders."
"When?"
"The night they burned the Cross Roads gate."
"So he had a hand in that deviltry?"
"Yes."
"I'm glad to hear it; what else?"
"The raiders air a-goin' to make another raid."
"When?"
"Tomorrow night, I think. I'll find out for certain tomorrow, an' postyou. It's court day, you know, an' the word will be passed around amongthe men when they come to town."
"Where shall I see you?" asked the Squire.
"We mustn't be seen talkin' together," said the visitor thoughtfully."It might help to fasten suspicion on an innocent man, you see," headded, with a leer of cunning. "I'll tell you what would be a betterplan. I'll start back home just at five, by the town clock. I've got agood ways to go, an' likely's not many will be on the road at that hourof the day. You can leave a little earlier than five, an' I'll overtakeyou about the top of the first hill, under the big elm."
"Very well," agreed the Squire.
"I think I've about earned one hundred of that money already, Squire,"suggested the visitor, looking keenly at his companion.
"Won't tomorrow do? This may be a false alarm," objected the Squire.
"No, it isn't; an' besides, I've told you some other things you wantedto know."
"But you're in no particular hurry," the old man insisted, the rulingpassion of avarice strong upon him.
"Yes, I'm a-needin' it bad. I've got to have some money early tomorrow,an' I couldn't very well be seen followin' you around on court day. Youpromised to pay when I brought the word."
"Here, then," said the Squire reluctantly unlocking a small drawer inthe base of the tall clock and bringing forth a roll of bills wrapped ina piece of newspaper. "Here's a hundred dollars in small bills. Countthem over."
"It's two hundred dollars for givin' information that will lead to thearrest of any of the raiders," said the visitor meditatively, after hehad carefully counted the money. "Two hundred's the reward."
"Yes, one hundred tonight, which you have now received, and the otherwhen the raiders have been caught. An extra hundred comes out of my ownpocket, you understand, when a certain kinsman of mine is safe behindthe jail bars. This is good money, easily made."
"Well, I d'no' as it's so easy when you risk your neck to git it, asI've done."
"What gate do you think they will raid next?" asked the Squire.
"I don't know yet, but I'll be posted by tomorrow evenin'. There'sanother thing, too, I wanted to say to you," added the visitorimpressively. "It's concernin' the safety of a particular friend of minewho belongs to the raiders. I must have your promise not to trap himalong with the others."
"How can that be done if he's with the band?"
"Mighty easy. I'll see that he's sent on a little ahead of the others toguard the road in front, and you must give strict orders that no firingis to be done until this one is safely through the gate. When he hearsthe first shot he can then look out for hisself, an' let the ones behinddo the best they can."
"So _you_ want to come out with a whole skin?" said the Squire, with akeen glance at his visitor.
"I didn't say anything about myself; I said a friend."
"All right! I understand. The man in front is to get away, but the restare to be bagged. You'll give me the full particulars of the proposedraid tomorrow evening, then?" said the Squire, rising from his chair, tosignify that the interview was
at an end.
"Yes; an' when I come again, you'll have the rest of the money ready forme?"
The Squire nodded.
"Have it in small bills," the visitor suggested. "I can pass 'emeasier."
A few minutes later the front door was closed upon the mysteriousvisitor, and the Squire came back into the room softly rubbing his handswith apparent satisfaction. Indeed, his next words signified as much.
"Ah! my dear nephew!" he cried, gleefully; "before many more nights havepassed I think I will have you in a ticklish position where your loveaffairs will not run as smoothly as you might wish. Then comes _my_opportunity."
The Night Riders Page 6
