For a moment there was a look on Mrs. Burke’s face which Maxwell never had seen before, and which boded ill for Bascom: but she made no immediate reply.
“To tell you the truth,” she said finally, “I have been afraid of this. That was the only thing that worried me about your gettin’ married. But I felt that no good would come from worryin’, and that if Bascom was goin’ to play you some dirty trick, he’d do it; and now he’s done it. What’s got into the man, all of a sudden? He’s a skinflint—always closer than hair to a dog’s back; but I don’t believe I’ve ever known him do somethin’ downright ugly, like this.”
“Oh, I know well enough,” remarked Donald. “If I had been aware of how matters stood about the rectory, I should have acted differently. I wrote him a 210 pretty stiff letter a day or two ago, calling upon him, as Senior Warden, to use his influence to fulfill the contract with me, and get the arrears of my salary paid up. I suppose he had thought I would just get out of the place if my salary was held back—and he’s wanted to get rid of me for some time. Now, he’s taken this other means of ejecting me not only from his house but from the town itself. He knows I can’t afford to pay the rent out of my salary—let alone out of half of it!” He laughed rather bitterly.
“He’ll be singing a different tune, before I’ve done with him,” said Hepsey. “Now you leave this to me—I’ll have a twitch on old Bascom’s nose that’ll make him think of something else than ejecting his rector. I’ll go and visit with him a little this afternoon.”
“But Nelson said that he was in New York.”
“I know better than that,” snorted Hepsey. “But I guess he’ll want to go there, and stay the winter there too, maybe, when I’ve had my say. No sir—I’m goin’ to take my knittin’ up to his office, and sit awhile; and if he doesn’t have the time of his life it won’t be my fault.”
She turned to leave the room, with a belligerent swing of her shoulders.
“Mrs. Burke,” said Maxwell gently, “you are kindness itself; but I don’t want you to do this—at least 211 not yet. I want to fight this thing through myself, and rather to shame Bascom into doing the right thing than force him to do it—even if the latter were possible. I must think things out a bit. I shall want your help—we always do, Betty and I.”
“I don’t know but you’re right; but if your plan don’t work, remember mine will. Well, Mrs. Betty’ll be coming in soon, and I’ll leave you. Meantime I shall just go home and load my guns: I’m out for Bascom’s hide, sooner or later.”