Abner went downstairs and out into the kitchen. Having filled and lighted his pipe, he picked up the note which had been lying on the table, and read it again most carefully. Then stretching himself out comfortably upon the sofa, he gave himself up to earnest thought. He remained thus for about an hour. Then he arose and going to the woodhouse brought in a large wire-cage rat-trap. This he baited with considerable care, and, taking it outside, placed it near the pig pen.
"There, guess I ought to have one or two big fellers by mornin'," he chuckled. "It takes more'n one to play a game, an' there's mighty good reason why Abner Andrews, of Ash Pint, should have a hand in this game which Lawyer Rackshaw has started."
CHAPTER XII
BOTTLED DIVILS
Abner was awakened early the next morning by light footsteps upon the stairs and low whisperings. He did not hear his wife's voice, but supposed that she was downstairs seeing that the cats were "put out," and that the back door was fastened. He expected that a tempest would soon burst in the quiet house, and that in a few minutes he would be called sharply to account. He did not mind Jess, but he did shrink at the thought of what his wife would say about the mutilated pillow-slips, and the putting of two dirty street urchins in a clean bed. As he thus lay and listened for the storm to break, he cherished for an instant the hope that in some way Tildy had fallen so much in love with Mrs. Ikey Dimock that she had stayed with her all night.
Abner had little time, however, for such meditations, for a shriek of fear and astonishment presently fell upon his ears. Then hurried footsteps approached his room, and Jess appeared in the doorway.
"Daddy! Daddy!" she called.
But Abner made no response. He was apparently sleeping the sleep of the just.
"Daddy!" Again came the appeal, this time more urgent than before.
Still Abner made no reply.