“My dear man, if you think I am going to pay anywhere from three to six dollars for a fish lunch you are mistaken. I’d rather throw away the fish and pay my fine like a man.”
“You can’t throw them away,” said he, defiantly; “I have the fish and possession is nine points of the law. Did you have an aider and abettor?”
“I refuse to answer,” said I.
He turned quickly on Minerva. “Did your master go out with anyone?”
“I didn’t see him go out,” said Minerva, sullenly. It was plain to be seen that her sympathies were not with the myrmidon of the law.
“I am not afraid of this law,” said I. “I fished innocently and I am willing to pay the fine. I will also consider it my duty to tell the judge that you attempted to compromise with me on a money basis.”
His manner changed in a twinkling. “See here,” said he. “You’re a stranger up here and you’re from the city. It’s easy to see that. I’ll tell you what I’ll do.”
He walked slowly over to his wagon, holding the string of fish in front of him, while he gazed at them thoughtfully. He climbed into the wagon and seemed to be hunting for something under the seat. He soon found it. It was the whip. He applied it to the horse and the animal responded in a spurt of speed that took him out of sight before we realized what had happened.
Our fish lunch was gone.
“I’m glad it ended that way,” said Ethel. I looked at her and saw that she was rather pale. “It would have been dreadful if he had arrested you.”