“Well, all right; you shall have your ruther. Everyone shall take his pick. We’ll do the ridin’ now.”
Mrs. Welch was listening with keen interest. The speaker, who was Nicholas Ash, the member from Red Rock, gathered up the reins. As he did so, someone called:
“You better watch out for de K. K.’s,” at which there was a roar of laughter.
“They’s the one’s I’m lookin’ for. I’m just fixed for ’em, by ——!” shouted the statesman.
“Dee ain’ gwine meddle wid him,” said someone in the crowd, admiringly.
“Don’ know. I wouldn’ drive roun’ heah and talk ’bout ’um like he does, not for dat mule he gwine gi’ me.” The laughter that greeted this showed that others besides the speaker held the same views.
As the carriage drove off, Mrs. Welch’s heart sank. Her last hope was gone. She was relieved somewhat by the approach of the station-agent, who up to that time had been engaged about his duties, and who now, seeing a lady standing outside, came up to her. Mrs. Welch told who she was. He had heard that Mrs. Welch was expected, but did not know the day. No telegrams, such as she spoke of, had passed through his office, and it was an all-day’s ride up to Red Rock when the roads were bad. He invited her to remain as his guest. “People right often did so when they came, unexpected-like.”
Mrs. Welch thanked him, but thought she would prefer to go on, if she could get a conveyance, even if she could go that night only as far as Brutusville.
“Can’t I get some sort of wagon?” she inquired.
The agent gazed at her with a serenity that was in strong contrast with her growing decisiveness. He did not know as she could, the mail-wagon went over in the morning after the early train; people generally went by that. Dill Herrick had a sort of a wagon, and folks sometimes took it if they got there too late for the mail-wagon and were in too big a hurry to wait till next day. But Dill was away that day. The wagon was there, but Dill had gone away on his horse and would not be back till next day.