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Here I hold the little man blindfolded by my wiles and this is my thanks!" The voice was tearful with self-pity. "Is that so, my puss?" roared the seaman, melted in a flash. He swung the girl by the waist with his free arm. "You have got just enough natural impudence for the tall water and no mistake. Come along." "Wait!" cried Jethro Rackby. He stepped forward.
During her school days, Jethro used frequently to find himself in front of the schoolhouse when the children came trooping out quite by accident, of course.
"Indeed, Jethro," Amuba exclaimed with enthusiasm, "it is almost worth while being made a slave if it is only to witness this glorious scene. What a wonderful people are these; what knowledge, and power, and magnificence! Why, my father's palace would be regarded as a mere hut in Thebes, and our temples, of which we thought so much, are pygmies by the side of these immense edifices."
With sacrifices and a feast was the arrival of Jethro celebrated, for after he had made the burnt offering not far from the bush of thorns that had been unscathed by fire, Jethro prepared a feast of rejoicing for the whole people, at which Moses did not consider it below the dignity to wait on the guests in person.
Cynthia and Ephraim knew, and Coniston guessed, that Jethro was taking care of Ephraim, and strong as was his affection for Jethro the old soldier found dependence hard to bear. He never spoke of it to Cynthia, but he used to lie and dream through the spring days of what he might have done if the war had not crippled him.
Jethro focussed a look upon the painter. "Er painter-man, be you? Paint Cynthy's picture?" "But I don't want to be painted, Uncle Jethro. I won't be painted!" "H-how much for a good picture? Er only want the best only want the best." The painter said a few things, with pardonable heat, to the effect well, never mind the effect. His remarks made no impression whatever upon Jethro.
"Most folks that hasn't went West or died is afeard of Jethro Bass." "Daddy isn't afraid of him, and I'm not," said Cynthia. "That's right, Cynthy," said Lem, leaning over and giving a tug to the pigtail that hung down her back; "there hain't nothin' to be afeard of." "I like him," said Cynthia; "he's very good to me." "You stick to him, Cynthy," said the stage driver. "Ready, Will?"
But her dislike for the girl in the sleigh decidedly increased. How was she, in her inexperience, to know that the radiant beauty in furs was what the boys at Phillips Andover called an "old stager." "So you live with Jethro Bass," was Miss Cassandra's next remark. "He's rich enough to take you round the state and give you everything you want." "I have everything I want," replied Cynthia.
Here was to be a congressional convention that autumn, and a large part of Mr. Sutton's district lay in the North Country, which, as we have seen, was loyal to Jethro to the back bone. The district, too, was largely rural, and therefore anti-consolidation, and the inability of the Worthington forces to get their bill through had made it apparent that Jethro Bass was as powerful as ever.
Jethro and Amuba now felt at home, but as they determined that when they reached their own country they would, until they found how matters were going on there, disguise their identity, they now traveled as Persian traders. Long before reaching Persia they had disposed of the stock of goods with which they started, and had now supplied themselves with articles of Persian manufacture.
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