Burton walked back to the train and consulted his time-table. He was about seventy-five miles from Plainville and on another line of railway. Mechanically he started to read the names of the stations which lay ahead of him, but at the second name his heart gave a bound. That was the town where Dr. Millar lived. That, he estimated, was about fourteen miles away. It was now midnight. He could be there by four o’clock, and the doctor’s automobile would place him in Plainville by eight easily. He still had a chance to save his honour by appearing in court when his name was called.
Without further delay he started out at a brisk walk along the railway track. He scrambled through the dry ravine, and regained the railway on the other side. He was unhampered by luggage of any kind, and although walking on the ties in the darkness was rather uncertain he had no doubt he would be standing in the doctor’s office within five hours. The light wind was balmy and refreshing, but very soon it began to carry scattered drops of rain. These gradually grew thicker until a steady shower was falling. The moisture soon soaked through his clothing, but the exercise kept him warm and he felt little discomfort. And at ten minutes to four, warm, wet and footsore, he rang the bell at Dr. Millar’s door.
The doctor answered the ring in person. At first glance he did not recognise his visitor, but a very few words of explanation sufficed. Dr. Millar was a master of the art of grasping essentials by intuition.
He looked at his watch, and then he looked out at the black, wet night. The rain was now falling heavily, and the street lay white with water where the light from the open door cut its wedge-shaped path across it.
“It’ll be a hard drive, Burton,” he said, “but it must be made, and the sooner we start the better. I will be dressed in a few minutes, and I always leave my car ready to pull out at a moment’s notice. But you are wet. You must have some dry clothing.”
Burton protested that he was quite comfortable, that he did not feel the dampness at all, but the doctor would not listen to him.
“You are warm now, because you have been walking hard, but a few minutes in the automobile will set your teeth chattering. Besides, I think I have some clothes belonging to you around here somewhere, and I want you to take them away, this very night. Now get in there and hustle them on,” and suiting the action to the word the doctor shoved Burton into his private office. There was nothing to do but obey.
A little later an automobile pulled out from Dr. Millar’s gate and started to plough its path through sixty miles of mud and water.
The holding of the first assize court at Plainville was an event of no small importance to the people of that obscure but ambitious town. Plainville had been fortunate enough at the last election to place its sympathies with the winning side, and the first evidence of appreciation was a handsome court-house, built on a block of lots which had been held for a dozen years by Perkins, the lawyer, without a chance of sale, but was now turned over to the Government at a handsome profit. Mr. Perkins’ allegiance to the party of purity and justice had been further rewarded by his appointment to the office of crown prosecutor at the assizes. It was a little disappointing, to be sure, that the crop of criminals had so far been distressingly small, the most serious case on the docket being the theft of two thousand dollars which were afterwards recovered, but neither Plainville nor Perkins were discouraged. The judicial district was young, and would improve with the passage of time. Who knew but that some public spirited criminal might yet commit a real murder, and so bring the name of Plainville into prominence in all the papers of the province?
The jurors and witnesses had assembled, over-taxing the hotel accommodation of the town, which the thoughtful lawyers and officials had reserved for themselves a safe period in advance. A number of minor offices were filled by Plainville citizens, and this rewarding of the faithful restored the credit of several shiftless Plainville families at the grocers’ and butchers’. The hotels were full, the bars were busy, even the temperance houses had more trade than they could accommodate, and many a thrifty housewife was ekeing out the price of a new bonnet by placing the spare room at the disposal of the strangers. Mrs. Goode found the demands upon her lodgings and her table more than she could supply, but had boldly met the situation by pitching a number of tents in her back yard, where her cadaverous husband could be employed without menace to the business coming in at the front door. Plainville was prosperous, excited and happy.