"Dear Mrs. Brown: I regret to say your nephew and his accomplice Levison have played us a scoundrelly trick. Levison came to me and proposed to bail your nephew. Not knowing the parties were in collusion, and satisfied that your nephew was in the sheriff's custody, I tried to put Levison off. But he told me coolly that he knew my object was to detain Captain Mason—that if I had taken up his first note for fifty dollars, he might have let this other one for two hundred and fifty alone; but he must take care of himself. He intended to bail every writ until his claim was taken up. If I chose to assume all the captain's liabilities first, very well, but it was in my discretion to secure him first. No one else would try the same bold game. Under your instructions, which were peremptory, I had no choice but to accept the offer; which I did. There was necessarily a minute's interval in preparing the new writ on Levison's claim, which I sued out at once, Captain Mason and the sheriff being in the room, and your nephew acquiescing in the arrangement, as I thought. But he stepped out: the sheriff went instantly in pursuit by my directions, but with unexampled effrontery Captain Mason demanded by what authority he was detained. Of course, as, technically speaking, the writ of arrest was not yet served, the sheriff could do nothing, and Mason taking the streetcar, the minute's interval of returning for the writ allowed him to get off. The sheriff has gone to the ferry and put officers at the bridge and elsewhere, but it is impossible yet to know the result.
"We must now seize the other party. I have heard of one Joe Skinner, who could testify certainly to the contemplated breach of the peace by Mr. Nettles. If there was any way to detain that gentleman an hour, until the lawyer could get his hands on Skinner!"
"Humph! detain Mr. Nettles!" said the dowager, glancing from the lawyer's note to the pale, pretty face before her. "You look pale, child: a drive will help you.—Memmie, have the double racing-buggy and the trotter Marmette brought to the door."
"Oh no, aunty," said Sue, shrinking: "it would be wrong while—" While her lover was going to his death, Sue thought.
"Pshaw, child!" said the dowager, writing. "We'll see.—Ma'amselle, dress Miss Sue for a drive; and a touch of rouge, Hortense: she is too pale."
While the yielding child, ignorant of her aunt's scheme, was being dressed like a victim for sacrifice, Bob Nettles read the tinted note:
"Dear Mr. Nettles: My niece, Susie Brown, tells me you have an engagement to drive with her this afternoon. Being unwilling to trust the dear child in a vehicle at livery, permit an old lady to put one of her buggies and fast trotters at your service."
If Bob Nettles had one dearer wish than another, it was to see his little playmate once more, and make up that dispute before facing her cousin's pistol. Aunt Fanny's plan of detaining him was likely to thrive.
Sudie came down, pale and tremulous as a little white withering rosebud—very pretty and timid and tender. There was a forced smile at meeting, and but few words. He had intended to say how sorry he was to have offended her, but he did not. He saw or felt that there was nothing to forgive between them now. His was but a shallow, practical mind, and she was only a timid, silly little girl; yet they knew of that unspoken love between them, and that there was a great trouble, without words.