“Oh, he’ll beller like a new-weaned calf for a day or so,” said Hiram, calmly. “But he’ll get over it and be better off, like the rest of us,” he added with bitterness. “I’ll go and tell him a few things and show up what women are in this world and give him a couple horns of whisky and in an hour I’ll have him singin’ ‘Glory, hallelujah,’ and glad she’s gone.” He started away briskly, but the lawyer pulled him back roughly.
“One member of our family has tried an experiment on that poor devil and it has half-killed him. Now don’t you go in there and finish the job. You’re not an expert on heart matters, Hime.”
“Well, I’ll fetch her back, then,” cried Hiram, unabashed. “You can have anything you want. It’s only to say the word.”
The Squire looked at him.
“Bodfish won’t land her this side of the railroad at Square Harbour, of course?” asked Hiram.
“Bodfish isn’t a deep knave,” said the lawyer. “He simply got away early to avoid observation at this end. He will land her there probably for the one-o’clock train, west.”
“Simple matter, then. Telephone the police to arrest her and lock her up till we come.”
“And have the scandal and gossip and disgrace spread from here to Hackenny, and the Oracle and people’s mouths full of it! That would be saving the reputation of the Mayo family with a vengeance, Hiram.”
The showman took off his tall hat and fondled the bare spot on his head.
“Oh, it’s got to be a fly-by-night, come-back-by-dark job, eh?” he observed. “Disappearin’ lady trick! Touch the button and she’s gone. Touch the button and back she comes. You only think she’s gone and she ain’t been gone at all! A very pretty little trick—-and thank you kindly for your attention, ladies and gents, one and all!”