The Unknown Wrestler Part 19

"Where's Jean?" she enquired.

"Don't know," Empty replied. "She's out on the hills somewheres."

"What, ye didn't leave the poor girl there all alone, did ye?"

"Oh, her dad's with her, an' I guess he'll round her up all right. I'm most starved, ma. Got anything good?"

Mrs. Dempster was a bright, active, talkative little body, and she bade Douglas a hearty welcome.

"So ye'r the great wrestler, are ye?" she asked, as she offered her visitor a chair, and then hustled about to get some food. "Empty has told me all about ye, an' how ye defended him aginst Jake. It was mighty good of ye, an' sez I to Empty, sez I, 'bring that man home with ye some time, so I kin thank him fer his kindness to a poor fatherless boy.'"

"I didn't do much, I a.s.sure you," Douglas replied. "I don't believe Jake would have hurt him."

"No, Jake wouldn't really mean to hurt him, that's true. But ye see, he's so big an' strong that what he might think was a little love tap alongside of the head would knock an ox down. He doesn't intend to hurt. But when Si Stubbles. .h.i.ts, he means it, an' so does Ben. My, I'm mighty glad ye did up that skunk to-night. He deserved it all right."

"So you've heard about that already?" Douglas asked in surprise.

Mrs. Dempster poured a cup of hot tea, brought forth a plate of frosted doughnuts, and bade Douglas "draw up an' have a bite." When her visitor had been served, she sat down on a chair by the side of the table.

"Ye seem surprised that I know about that racket at the hall," she began. "Empty was watchin' at the door, an' saw it all. He was hustlin' home by the short-cut across the hills to tell me the news when he heard Jean singin'. Say, I admire ye'r pluck. But ye must be keerful, sir."

"Why?"

"It's always necessary to be keerful when ye'r dealin' with skunks. Ye jist never know what they're goin' to do next."

"But why do the people put up with such creatures?" Douglas laughingly enquired.

"Because they can't get rid of 'em, that's why. Me an' Empty have always stood on our indignity, an' it's a mighty good stool to stand on. We don't have to depend on the Stubbles fer a livin'. We have our little farm, our cow, pig, an' hens. Empty ketches enough fish to do us, an' he always gits a deer or two in the fall, an' that is all the meat we want. We pick an' sell a good many berries, an' what eggs an'

b.u.t.ter we kin spare. Mark my words, there's somethin' wrong with a place when all the people have to bow down to any one man, 'specially when it's a critter like Si Stubbles. I git terribly irritated when I think of the way that man is allowed to rule this parish."

"He rules in Church matters, too, I understand," Douglas remarked.

"Ye've hit the nail right on the head, sir. It was him that druv our last two parsons out of the parish an' almost out of their minds, too."

"Did all side with Mr. Stubbles?"

"Oh, no, not all. There were a few who stood at his back, sich as the Bentons, an' me an' Empty. Nellie Strong, G.o.d bless her, an' Nan, her sister, didn't go agin 'em, but they were in a difficult persition with that cranky father of theirs."

"Would Church matters have gone on smoothly but for the Stubbles?"

Douglas asked.

"They always did before Si an' his brood came to this place. Even supposin' the parsons weren't up to the mark, we would have got along all right. Country people, as a rule, are not hard to please, an' will put up with most anythin'."

There were many questions Douglas wished to ask this entertaining woman, but just then a noise was heard outside, and at once the door was pushed open and the shoe-maker entered. His hat was gone, his clothes were torn, and his hands and face were bleeding. He stood near the door trembling in every limb, and looking appealingly into the faces of those before him.

"Fer the love of heavens, Joe! what's the matter with ye?" Mrs.

Dempster exclaimed, as she rose to her feet and gave the old man her chair. "Have ye been fightin'?"

Joe's lips moved, but a groan was the only sound he uttered, as he crouched there, the picture of abject misery.

"Where's Jean?" Mrs. Dempster demanded, laying her right hand kindly upon his shoulder.

"Gone! Gone!" was the low despairing reply.

"Couldn't ye find her?"

"See," and the old man pointed to his torn clothes and bleeding hands.

"I followed her over the rocks and through the bushes. I was too slow and fell so often that she got away. Oh, my Jean, my little la.s.s! She doesn't know her father any more; she wouldn't listen to his voice calling to her."

"You poor man," and Mrs. Dempster wiped her eyes with the corner of her ap.r.o.n. "You are tired out, and must have a cup of tea an' somethin' to eat. Then you must go right home an' git some rest. Me an' Empty will find Jean as soon as it gits light. The dear child, she used to come here so often, an' her an' Empty were great playmates."

The rest and the food strengthened the weary man, and Mrs. Dempster's hearty manner cheered him. When he at length arose to go, Douglas offered to accompany him, and together the two pa.s.sed out into the morning air.

CHAPTER XIII

NOTICE TO QUIT

The shoe-maker was very tired, and he leaned heavily on the arm of his companion all the way up the road. He did not speak, and Douglas made no effort to start a conversation. Reaching home, Joe opened the door of his shop and entered. Douglas was about to bid him good-bye when the old man asked him to come in for a few minutes. Lighting a candle, Joe held it carefully before the picture of the Good Shepherd.

"I'm puzzled to-night," he began. "I never thought of it before."

"What is it?" Douglas questioned.

"You see that lamb?"

"Yes."

"It's in danger, isn't it?"

"It certainly is."

"And it wants to be helped, and saved? See how its head is raised, and it seems so glad that the Shepherd has come to rescue it."

"Is there anything puzzling about that?"

"Ah, but suppose that lamb didn't want to be helped, and held back, no matter how hard the Shepherd pleaded, what then?"

"He was strong enough to lift it up bodily and carry it back to the fold, was He not?"

"Ay, ay, I have no doubt about His strength. But I don't believe He would have done it. He would not have saved it against its will. He didn't want a rebellious lamb in His fold."

Joe lowered the candle and placed it upon a shelf. Then he looked intently into his companion's face.

"Jean doesn't want to come back," he whispered. "She's not like that lamb," and he jerked his thumb toward the picture.

"Perhaps she will change her mind," Douglas suggested.