“You heard him!” cried Winkey, triumphantly. “Now git going and don’t come back!”
“All right, I’ll go,” the artist retorted. “But I’ll be here again. You can’t get away with this even if you have rented the property!”
Scarcely aware of Penny and Mr. Ayling, who followed him to the gate, Mr. Eckenrod stomped off with easel and palette.
“They can’t get away with it!” he stormed, addressing no one in particular. “I’ll come back here with the sheriff!”
“I’m afraid Father Benedict is within his rights,” remarked Mr. Ayling. “He’s taken over the property.”
“What’s that?” the artist became aware of his presence. “Oh yes,” he admitted grudgingly, “legally he is within his rights, I suppose. But what of justice?”
“It would seem only decent of him to allow you to complete your paintings.”
“I’ve been coming to the monastery for months, off and on,” the artist revealed in an aggrieved tone. “Always figured I’d buy the place. The owner, Peter Holden, picked it up at a foreclosure sale for a mere nothing. He’d have sold to me too, if this fellow hadn’t come along. Who is he, anyhow?”
“I wonder myself,” said Mr. Ayling.
“His gateman looks like a thug!”