Later in the day, when this business was reached, the articles in the warrant relating to the “Look Cornet Brass Band” and the investigation of the accounts of the town treasurer, as well as the article requiring bondsmen for the same, were killed by a hilarious viva voce vote.
On their homeward way, after a long pause, Squire Look said:
“Judge Willard, you have been able to see some of the visible results to me for my share in helping you compound your felony. You are man enough to understand what it means to go through a public scene like that with a brother, who was right, even if he was misguided. I am ashamed to meet him; I am almost ashamed to look my townsmen in the eye.”
“But you agreed that it would have been worse the other way,” quavered the old man.
“There are people who talk of the right path,” broke out the lawyer impatiently, “as though it were like this village road branching from the four corners here; that all you need to do is to look at the guide-board and go on. I may have got tangled up at that four corners where you and I met the other day, Judge Willard, but I want to tell you that I see a mighty straight road ahead of me now.”
He clutched the old man’s arm and spoke low so that the driver on the other side of the leather flap might not hear.
“You have got to liquidate, Judge. You have got to put every cent of property you have in the world into my hands in order that I may untangle it. You may be town treasurer in name, but not one dollar of the funds shall you handle. The widows and the orphans and the old folks in this town must be paid to the last farthing. You are going out of business—-do you understand? You will resign the town treasurership when I tell you to—and that will be when your books can be safely turned over to some one else. You need not worry about exposure, for the men who were paid and surrendered their town notes to me have their tongues tied fast and solid by methods that I understand how to work. Now for your own tongue! If you breathe one word to your daughter that I supplied the money to square this thing, or that you owe me a cent, I’ll drop you and your affairs as I’d drop a hot plate on to a brick sidewalk. And you know what will happen then!” A moment later the Squire checked the old man’s mingled promises and thanks with an impatient word and sank back into a corner of the carriage. His ponderings could not have been very satisfying, for he scowled and growled.