[CHAPTER V]
Rewarded
The procession that wound out of the gate, down the road, over the railroad tracks, past the station, into and along the main street a little way, then down the broad cross street to the mills was indeed a queer one; naturally one to draw the attention of a crowd, if there had been anyone on the street so early in the morning to see it. Those who were up and about, who had not gone back to bed after the explosion, had stayed at the mill to join in the well-paid-for work of rehabilitation, or to stand around and discuss the crime.
When the slow-moving caravan arrived, after a toilsome trip with many stops for rest, Clem having been the motive power all the way for the squeaking, one-wheeled vehicle, the crowd at the mill paused to observe and consider this rather startling performance. Christmas night was one long to be remembered in Lofton.
“Hi! Here comes the circus, the elephant in the lead!” announced Jimmy West, a wit among the mill hands, as he caught sight of the outline of the approaching group. Shultz marched ahead; then came the wheel-barrow and Clem; then Don, his revolver ever ready.
“Ah, what—what have you here? What does this mean, my son?” Mr. Stapley queried.
“Fer goodness’ sake, hit’s Dutchy Shultz an’ another feller, thet them there boys hez brung in!” remarked an ancient citizen.
“Dis vas von outrache, py gollies! I vill nod—”
“Shut up, Shultz, I told you, or you’ll get plugged yet!” Don threatened. The crowd did not embarrass him.