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He's not got enough to marry; any girl who married him would have to live with the old folks. Look where you're going, Deolda." There was silence, and I heard their footsteps going to their rooms. The next day Deolda went to walk, and back she came, old Conboy driving her in his motor. Old Conboy was rich; he had one of the first motors on the Cape, when cars were still a wonder.
Morgan saw that he was haggard and worn as from long vigils and anxieties, although he had about him still an air of assurance and self-sufficiency. Morgan passed him in the door and entered the office unrecognized, although Conboy searched him with a disfavoring and suspicious eye. In the office there was evidence of conflict and turmoil.
"Have your own way; I'll marry you if you want me to!" She made him pay for this. "You see," she said to my aunt, "I told you I was going to marry him." "Well, then come out motoring tonight when you've got your dishes done," called old Conboy. "I'm going to the breakwater with Johnny Deutra tonight," said Deolda, in that awful truthful way of hers.
But when Morgan's shadow, stretching far ahead, fell beside him, he started like a dozing horse, whirled about with stick upraised, and stood so in attitude of menace and defense until the stranger had passed on. Conboy was alert in his door, watching to see what new nest of trouble Morgan was about to stir with that threatening rifle.
I had an uncomfortable sense of knowing that I ought to leave Deolda and Johnny and that Johnny was waiting for me to go to talk. And yet I was fascinated, as little girls are; and just as I was about to leave the room I ran into old Conboy hurrying in, his reddish hair standing on end. "Well, Deolda," said he, "Captain Hammar's gone down the Cape all of a sudden.
Morgan went to the hotel, where Tom Conboy was still on duty smoking his cob pipe in a chair tilted back against a post of his portico. "Well, the light's out up at Peden's," said Conboy, feeling a new and vast respect for this man who had proved his luck to the satisfaction of all beholders in Ascalon that night. "Yes," said Morgan, wearily, pausing at the door.
He spoke in the hope that he might be given the opportunity of relieving the indignation, so strong in him that it was almost oppressive, before the coroner's jury. Tom Conboy shook his head. "No, the marshal's testimony is all we'll need," Conboy replied. "Resistin' arrest and tryin' to escape after arrest. That's all there was to it.
I'll have to leave this man's town; I can't stand the pressure." "A man with a little nerve ought to swallow his present losses for his future gains," Morgan said, beginning to grow tired of this whining. "If I could see any future gains comin' my way I'd gamble on them with any man," Conboy returned with some spirit. "I'm goin' over to Glenmore this afternoon and see what it looks like there.
While he had his feet wet, he reasoned, he would just as well cross the stream. Conboy was sweeping the office, having laid the thick of the dust with a sprinkling can. He paused in his work to give Morgan a shrewd, sharp look. "Important news when it pulls a man out of bed this early," Conboy ventured, "and him needin' sleep like you do." "Yes," said Morgan, going on to the door.
"They'll never be lit again in this man's town," Conboy went on, "and I'm one that's glad to see 'em go. Some of these fellers around town was sayin' tonight that Ascalon will be dead in the shell inside of three weeks, but I can't see it that way. Settlers'll begin to come now, that hall of Peden's'll make a good implement store, plenty of room for thrashin' machines and harvesters.
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