He read the letter aloud. Mr. Godfrey wrote that he knew nothing about Major Hardee further than that he had been able to get nothing from him in payment for his board.
“So I seized his trunk,” the letter concluded. “There was nothing in it worth mentioning, but I took it on principle. The Major told me a lot about writing to his attorneys for money, but I didn't pay much attention to that. I'm afraid he's an old fraud, but I can't help liking him, and if I had kept on running my hotel I guess he would have got away scot-free.”
“There!” exclaimed the triumphant Obed, with a sneer, “I guess that settles it, don't it? Maybe you'd be willin' to turn your bills over to Squire Baker now.”
But they were not willing. Higgins argued, and justly, that although the Major was in all probability a fraud, not even a lawyer could get water out of a stone, and that when a man had nothing, suing him was a waste of time and cash.
“Besides,” he said, “there's just a chance that he may have attorneys and property somewheres else. Let's write him a letter and every one of us sign it, tellin' him that we'll call on him Tuesday night expectin' to be paid in full. If we call and don't get any satisfaction, why, we ain't any worse off, and then we can—well, run him out of town, if nothin' more.”
So the letter was written and signed by every man there. It was a long list of signatures and an alarming total of indebtedness. The letter was posted that night.
The days that followed seemed long to Obed. He was ill-natured at home and ugly at the shop, and Polena declared that he was “gettin' so a body couldn't live with him.” Her own spirits were remarkably high, and Obed noticed that, as the days went by, she seemed to be unusually excited. On Thursday she announced that she was going to Orham to visit her niece, one Sarah Emma Cahoon, and wouldn't be back right off. He knew better than to object, and so she went.
That evening each of the signers of the letter to Major Hardee received a courteous note saying that the Major would be pleased to receive the gentlemen at the Hall. Nothing was said about payment.
So, after some discussion, the creditors marched in procession across the fields and up to “Silverleaf Hall.”
“Hardee's been to Orham to-day,” whispered the keeper of the livery stable, as they entered the yard. “He drove over this mornin' and come back to-night.”