Everybody looked at everybody else, but nobody said anything. 'Twas a glum creditors' meetin', now I tell you. We set and stood around that kitchen for ten minutes; then we heard voices in the dinin'-room.
"Heavens and earth!" sings out Ed Cahoon. "Who's that? It can't be the automobile gang so soon!"
It wa'n't. 'Twas a parcel of women. You see, some of the crowd had told their wives about the counsel at the store and that, more'n likely, we'd pay a visit to the "Sign of the Windmill." Church bein' over, they'd come to hunt us up. There was Alpheus's wife, and Cahoon's, and Bangs's, and Bearse's, and Jerry Doane's daughter, and Mary Blaisdell. They was mighty excited and wanted to know what was up. We told 'em, but we didn't hurrah none while we was doin' it.
"Well," says Matildy Bangs, "I must say you men folks have made a nice mess of it all. William Bangs, you ought to be ashamed of yourself. What'll I do when you're in state's prison? How'm I goin' to get along, I'd like to know! You never think of nobody but yourself."
Poor Bill was about ready to cry, but this made him mad. "Who would I think of, for thunder sakes!" he sung out. "I'm the one that's goin' to be jailed, ain't I?"
Then Mary Blaisdell took me by the arm. Her eyes were sparklin' and she looked excited.
"Cap'n Snow," she whispered, "come here a minute. I want to speak to you. I have an idea."
"Lord!" says I, groanin', "I wish I had. What is it?"
What do you suppose 'twas? Why, that we, ourselves, should get up the dinner for the auto folks. Every woman there could cook, she said, and so could some of the men. We'd seized the stuff for the dinner already. It was ours, or, at any rate, it hadn't been paid for.
"We can get 'em a good dinner," says she. "I know we can. And, if that Frank doesn't come back until you have been paid, you can take that much out of his bills. If he does come no one will be any worse off, not even he. Let's do it."