Reube turned away abruptly, having made up his mind what to do with his troublesome guest. He set the lamp on a shelf, and then took the money which Paul still held out.
“I’ll take care of it till you’re sober enough to put it to its proper use,” said he.
The big fellow was by this time on the verge of tears, and ejaculating a host of promises. He wouldn’t touch another drop, and he’d mend both the doors so they’d be just as good as new; and he’d never forget Reube’s goodness in not having him taken up for a burglar, and he’d go right home to his poor family.
“No you don’t, Jim!” interrupted Reube at this point. “You’ll stay right here where I put you for the rest of this night. And you’ll go home to your family in the morning if you’re sober enough, but not otherwise.”
At this Paul began to protest. But paying no more heed to his words than if he had been a naughty child, Reube led him to a small room opening off the kitchen. The window of this room was a tiny affair through which a man of Paul’s bulk could not manage to squeeze. Reube got a couple of heavy buffalo robes, spread them on the floor, and told Paul to lie down on them. Then, bidding him sleep soundly and feel better in the morning, Reube locked him in and went to bed. But he took the precaution to carry the ax up stairs with him. His mother said simply:
“You managed the poor fellow beautifully, my dear boy. I was glad you were not forced to be rough with him.”
Reube smiled inwardly at his mother’s magnificent faith in his powers, but all he said was:
“Good night, mother dear. He’s all right where he is now, and I’ll have a talk with him in the morning.”
In the morning Paul had fairly sobered up. He was genuinely ashamed of himself. After making him eat some breakfast Reube gave him back his money and sent him home. As he was leaving the house he turned to say something, but seeing Mrs. Dare within earshot he hesitated. Reube followed him to the gate. There he stopped and said:
“I know I was just crazy drunk las’ night, but I kinder reck’lect what happened. When we wuz all drinkin’ down to Simes’s, an’ I’d licked three or four of the fellers, Mart Gandy says, says he, ‘There’s a lad hereabouts as yer cain’t lick, Jim Paul, an’ him only a kid, too!’ In course I fires up, and says I, ‘Show him to me, an’ I’ll show yous all!’ Some more words passed, till I was that riled I was blind, an’ then Mart Gandy says, says he, ‘Yer cain’t lick Reube Dare!’ Off I started to once’t, an’ you know’s well’s I do that I’d never ’a’ lifted a finger agin this house ef I hadn’t bin jest blind crazy! But I’ll remember what I might ’a’ done ef you hadn’t jest bin able to make me mind; an’ ’fore God, I’ll try to keep straight. But you mark my words. Look out fer that ther Gandy! He’s up ter mischief, an’ he ain’t the one to stick at anything.”