Hagan, with some trepidation, entered the passage behind the counter and the grocery shelves at one end; Elton forced his way in at the other. Taking in the situation at a glance, Burton caught up a weight off the scales and threw it at the head of the hesitating Hagan; that gentleman, in his eagerness to avoid the missile, slipped on the oily floor and sprawled behind the counter. Burton turned his attention to Elton, who was now upon him; he feinted a blow at the officer’s face, which caused him to throw up his guard, but instead of striking he seized his adversary by the collar and administered a quick jerk forward which landed the policeman full-length flat on the hapless Hagan. A roar of delight greeted Burton’s achievement, for, despite the weight of circumstantial evidence, many of the townspeople, and especially the young men, believed him innocent; and all were delighted to see this indignity heaped upon a bombastic bully who on several previous occasions had rendered himself obnoxious to the people of Plainville by his brutal arrogance. The weight of the law lay heavily upon Hagan, but the onlookers showed no disposition to lighten the burden, and the two men were left to extricate themselves from their narrow quarters as best they could. Elton, being on top, was first to get free, and as he emerged from behind the counter a great cheer broke from the lips of the now thoroughly delighted spectators. But if Elton was angry before, the jeers and laughter, with the knowledge that his dignity had suffered an irreparable collapse, filled him with maniacal fury. Seeing Burton standing in the middle of the floor he rushed toward him with a roar of imprecations, and the crowd quickly shifted to allow room for action. But in his rage Elton failed to benefit from the lesson he had so recently experienced; he guarded his face from the threatened blow, only to be again seized by the collar and flung headlong on the floor with a violence that left him momentarily stunned. He rose slowly, but the shock had sobered him; he waited until his half-dazed eyes had properly located Burton; then, with the quickness of a cat he threw his hand to his hip and covered the lad with a revolver. Then, for the first time, came to Burton the realization that he too was armed; but while he feared no man with Nature’s weapons he was no expert with pistols, and he had sense enough to realise that a fight under such conditions would be suicide. Elton advanced slowly, gloating over the revenge that was now within his grasp, but suddenly his feet shot from under him and he again collapsed on the floor, the revolver flying from his grasp as he fell. Two great hands closed about his throat; his nerveless jaw fell against the puffy wrinkles of his neck, and when he looked up it was into the face of old Dick Matheson, who had wandered in to see the cause of the excitement. Few who knew the mild-mannered farmer deemed him capable of such anger, nor of the vivid flow of sulphuric adjectives which he poured upon the now thoroughly cowed officer.
“Start a rough-house in Plainville, would you? Pull a revolver on this boy? Show these people how much of a fool can sometimes buy himself into a government salary? You, an officer of the law, attempting an unlawful act, and thoroughly trounced by a boy for doing it.” He emphasized every sentence with a vicious shake of the helpless head. “Burton would have submitted in a minute to a properly qualified officer. But for you—bah! You are an insult to every honest officer, a stench in the nostrils of Plainville, and if you are within the boundaries of this town in thirty minutes the vigilance committee will call on you.” So saying he started to drag his prisoner to the door; willing hands crowded around with assistance, and this victim of a little brief authority was dumped unceremoniously into the street.
Elton gathered himself up and without a word started to walk to the railway station. “Now, get!” was Old Dick’s last advice to him. Then turning to the crowd the farmer explained it all, half-apologetically, with the remark, “You see, I knew his father on the Muddywaski.”
[CHAPTER VI—THE ARM OF THE LAW]
| “All things are in the Beginning, All things are to the End, Though few may know the secret, And none may comprehend; And some must paint in error. And some must paint aright; For some paint in the shadow, And some paint in the light.” The Empire Builders. |
If there was one thing upon which the people of Plainville prided themselves it was their law-abiding disposition. This is an attribute of Canadians generally, and, it may be said, particularly of the Canadians of the prairie provinces. That the dweller in the land of the maple should possess a reverence for law which does not distinguish any other nationality of the Western Hemisphere is not so much a matter of constitutional difference, or of the law itself; the secret lies in the manner in which the law has been administered and enforced, and in the fortunate circumstance that Canada has, as a rule, been able to secure the services of intelligent and incorruptible officers. The tact, consideration and efficiency of the police have won for them the appreciation and support of the masses, and the remarkable security of life and property prevailing throughout the vast and sparsely settled country is due more to the incorruptible service, gentlemanly bearing and unquestioned personal bravery of her police than to all the rifles in her armouries.
But of recent years the police had fallen, comparatively, into disrepute. The mounted police had been withdrawn, and the local officers were selected more with a view to rewarding past political services, and furnishing a retainer for services yet to be performed, than from any consideration of mental or physical efficiency. This fact was undermining the public loyalty to the police, and the crowd who discussed Burton’s attempted arrest as they waited at the post office for their mail were obviously in sympathy with the young man.
“I’m in favour of the law, an’ of the law bein’ carried out,” said Big Jack McTavish, “but when my hired man thinks he’s more important about the farm than I am, I gen’rally manage pretty soon to make a change. An’ that seems to be about the attitood of these here policemen like we have now-a-days. We hire ’em, an’ give ’em a job an’ a clean soot, an’ they ain’t got the crease outa their pants before they get the idea we was just created for their convenyunce.”
“Taint just the police,” said Tim O’Brien; “it’s the whole joodishary. Where do they get the judges, will you tell me that? Lawyers, bedad, an’ no recoord uv their conversion, nayther.”
“Wheest, man,” said Big Jack. “Don’t ye know that’s contempt of coort? You can criticise ev’ry public official from the pound-keeper to the king, but your thoughts about the joodishary must be kept to yourself. That’s because this is a free country. All the same, Tim, I don’t know that the contempt gets any less by bein’ bottled up.”