“Look here,” said Blackstock crisply, “you’re goin’ to git yourself into trouble before you go much further, my lad. You jest mind your manners. When you bring me them proofs, I’ll talk to you, see!”
He took Woolly Billy’s hand, and turned towards the door.
The stranger’s righteous indignation, strangely enough, seemed to have been allayed by this speech. He followed eagerly.
“Don’t be unreasonable, Mr. Blackstock,” he coaxed. “I’ll send you the documents, from my solicitors, at once. I’m sure you don’t want to stand in the dear child’s light this way, and prevent him getting back to his own people, and the life that is his right, a day longer than is necessary. Do listen to reason, now.” And he patted his wad of bank-notes suggestively.
But at this stage, Woolly Billy and the big dog having already entered the cottage, Blackstock followed, and calmly shut the door. “You’ll smart for this, you ignorant clod-hopper!” shouted Mr. Heathington Johnson. He clutched the door-knob. But for all his rage, prudence came to his rescue. He did not turn the knob. After a moment’s hesitation he ground his heel upon the doorstep, stalked back to his gig, and drove off furiously. The three at the window watched his going.
“We won’t see him back here again,” remarked the Deputy. “He wasn’t no uncle o’ yours, Woolly Billy.”
That same evening he wrote to a reliable firm of lawyers at Exville, telling them all he knew about Woolly Billy and Woolly Billy’s father, and also all he suspected, and instructed them to look into the matter fully.
II
Several weeks went by, and the imposing stranger, as Blackstock had anticipated, failed to return with his proofs. Then came a letter from the lawyers at Exville, saying that they had something important to communicate, and Blackstock hurried off to see them, planning to be away for about a week.
On the day following his departure, to the delight of all the children and of most of the rest of the population as well, there arrived at Brine’s Rip Mills a man with a dancing bear. He was a black-eyed, swarthy, merry fellow, with a most infectious laugh, and besides his trained bear he possessed a pedlar’s pack containing all sorts of up-to-date odds and ends, not by any means to be found in the very utilitarian miscellany of Zeb Smith’s corner store.