Billy saw Mark comfortably resting on a couch in the back room of the
drug store, where an old pal of his was clerk, and then stopping only
for an invigorating gulp or two of a chocolate ice cream soda, he
climbed on his old wheel and pedalled on his happy way to Economy. The
winds touched him pleasantly as he passed, the sunshine had a queer
reddish look to his feverish eyes, and the birds seemed to be singing
in the top of his head, but he was happy. He might go to sleep on the
way and roll off his wheel, but he should worry! Mark was safe. He had
almost sold him for thirty pieces of silver, but God had somehow been
good to him and Mark was alive. Now he would serve him all the rest of
his life,--Mark or God,--it seemed all one to him now somehow, so long
had he idealized his friend, so mixed were his ideas of theology.
But Billy did not go to sleep nor fall off his wheel, and in due time
he arrived in Economy and satisfied the Chief's curiosity with vague
answers, a vivid description of Link and Shorty, and the suggestion
that they might be found somewhere near the Haunted House on Stark's
mountain. He had heard them talking about going there, he said. He got
away without a mention of the real happening at Pleasant View or a hint
that he had had anything to do with the stealing of the car. Billy
somehow was gifted that way. He could shut his mouth always just in
time, and grin and give a turn to the subject that entirely changed the
current of thought, so he kept his own counsel. Not for his own
protection would he have kept back any necessary information, but for
Mark's sake. Yes--for Mark's sake--! Mark would not want it to be
known.
It was in the early evening, and the sky was still touched by the after
glow of sunset, beneath the evening star, as Mark and Billy in the
reclaimed car, finally started from Unity for home.
In both their hearts was the thought of the bells that would be ringing
now in Sabbath Valley for the evening service, and of the one who would
be playing them, and each was trying to frame some excuse that would
explain his absence to her without really explaining anything.
And about this time the minister came forth from the parsonage, much
vexed in spirit by the appearance of the outlandish lady in her
outlandish car. She seemed to be insisting on remaining at the
parsonage as if it were a common hostelry, and he and his wife had much
perplexity to know just what to do. And now as he issued quietly forth
from a side door he could hear her lute-like voice laughing from his
front porch, and looking back furtively he saw to his horror that the
lady, as well as the gentleman, was smoking a cigarette!