“All right, then! Caroline Warren, you listen to me: I’ll give you till two o’clock to make up your mind to take the money that belongs to you. If you don’t, I swear to the Lord A’mighty I’ll take the fust train, go straight to New York, hunt up Graves, make him go down to the office and get that note your father made out turnin’ all his property over to that Akrae Company. I’ll get that note and I’ll burn it up. Then—then you’ll have to take the money, because it’ll be yours. Every bit of evidence that’ll hold in law is gone, and nobody but you and Steve’ll have the shadow of a claim. I’ll do it, so sure as I live! There! now you can make up your mind.”
He turned, strode to the door and out of the room. A moment later they heard a scream from Miss Baker in the kitchen: “’Lisha Warren, what ails you? Are you crazy?” There was no answer, but the back door closed with a tremendous bang.
Half an hour after his dramatic exit Captain Elisha was pacing up and down the floor of the barn. It was an old refuge of his, a place where he was accustomed to go when matters requiring deliberation and thought oppressed him. He was alone. Dan had taken the horse to the blacksmith’s to be shod.
The captain strode across the floor, turned and strode back again. Every few moments he looked at his watch. It was a long way to two o’clock, but each additional moment was another weight piled upon his soul. As he turned in his stride he saw a shadow move across the sill of the big, open door. He caught his breath and stopped.
Caroline entered the barn. She came straight to him and put her hands upon the lapels of his coat. Her eyes were wet and shining.
“Caroline?” he faltered, eagerly.
“You good man!” she breathed, softly. “Oh, you good man!”
“Caroline!” his voice shook, but there was hope in it. “Caroline, you’re goin’ to take the money?”
“Yes, Uncle Elisha. Mr. Sylvester has shown me that I must. He says you will do something desperate if I refuse.”