"We shall see," I said. "In the meantime be careful of what you say against me, or I will have you arrested before sundown."
Mr. Woodward gave me a look that was savageness itself. Apparently he was on the verge of giving way to a burst of temper. But he seemed to think better of it, and turning, he jumped into his buggy and drove away.
It was the last time I ever saw him. On the following day Mr. Harrison, Uncle Enos, and myself drove down to Newville and engaged a first-class lawyer to take up the case. This legal gentleman pushed matters so fast that on the following Monday all the papers necessary for Woodward's arrest were ready for execution.
The officers came to Darbyville late in the afternoon to secure their man. They were told that Mr. Woodward had gone to New York on business. They waited for him the remainder of the day and all of the next.
It was useless. The highly respected head merchant of Darbyville did not appear; and an examination showed that he had mortgaged his house and his business, and taken every cent of cash with him.
It was an open acknowledgment of his guilt, and Kate was for letting it go at that.
"It will do no good to have him locked up," she said.
"One thing is certain, sech a rascal ain't fit to be at liberty," put in my Uncle Enos.
"He may turn around and rob somebody else," added the Widow Canby.
"That's just it," I said; and determined to bring the man to justice, I set a detective on his track.