The Gentleman from Indiana - Page 88/212

The night was hushed, and the peace that falls before dawn was upon the

wet, flat lands. Somewhere in the sodden grass a swamped cricket chirped.

From an outlying flange of the village a dog's howl rose mournfully; was

answered by another, far away, and by another and another. The sonorous

chorus rose above the village, died away, and quiet fell again.

Helen sat by the window, no comfort touching her heart. Tears coursed her

cheeks no longer, but her eyes were wide and staring, and her lips parted,

for the hush was broken by the far clamor of the court-house bell ringing

in the night. It rang, and rang, and rang, and rang. She could not

breathe. She threw open the window. The bell stopped. All was quiet once

more. The east was growing gray.

Suddenly out of the stillness there came the sound of a horse galloping

over a wet road. He was coming like mad. Some one for a doctor? No; the

horse-hoofs grew louder, coming out from the town, coming this way, coming

faster and faster, coming here. There was a splashing and trampling in

front of the house and a sharp "Whoa!" In the dim gray of first dawn she

made out a man on a foam-flecked horse. He drew up at the gate.

A window to the right of hers went screeching up. She heard the judge

clear his throat before he spoke.

"What is it? That's you, isn't it, Wiley? What is it?" He took a good deal

of time and coughed between the sentences. His voice was more than

ordinarily quiet, and it sounded husky. "What is it, Wiley?"

"Judge, what time did Mr. Harkless leave here last night and which way did

he go?"

There was a silence. The judge turned away from the window. Minnie was

standing just outside his door. "It must have been about half-past nine,

wasn't it, father?" she called in a shaking voice. "And, you know, Helen

thought he went west."

"Wiley!" The old man leaned from the sill again.

"Yes!" answered the man on horseback.

"Wiley, he left about half-past nine--just before the storm. They think he

went west."

"Much obliged. Willetts is so upset he isn't sure of anything."

"Wiley!" The old man's voice shook; Minnie began to cry aloud. The

horseman wheeled about and turned his animal's head toward town. "Wiley!"

"Yes."

"Wiley, they haven't--you don't think they've got him?"

"By God, judge," said the man on horseback, "I'm afraid they have!"