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There was no exuberant joy to meet this suggestion. McGuire had, as a matter of fact, made his territory practically crime-proof for so long that men had lost interest in planning adventures within the sphere of his authority. It seemed to the four men of Pollard's gang a peculiar folly to cast a challenge in the teeth of the formidable sheriff himself.
Clay, with Danny Watson gravely perched beside him, drove along the river road after saying good-bye to Pearl, they met Miss Barner, who had been digging ferns for Mrs. McGuire down on the river flat. The doctor drew in his horse. "Miss Barner," he said, lifting his hat, "if Daniel Mulcahey Watson and I should ask you to come for a drive with us, I wonder what you would say?"
Veltman?" repeated Elias M. Pierce, who possessed a wonderful memory for men and events. "He's that anarchist fellow. Hates every man with a dollar. Stirred up the labor troubles two years ago. I told my men to smash his head if they ever caught him within two blocks of our place." "Speaking of anarchy," said McGuire Ellis softly.
When Fibsy assumed this deeply earnest air, Stone knew some clever dodge was in his mind, and he found it usually turned out well, so he said, "Go ahead, my boy; I trust you." "Thank yer," and Fibsy devoted himself to the remainder of his breakfast, while Stone read the morning paper. An hour later Terence McGuire presented himself at the Embury home and asked for Miss Ames.
As the champion short-distance sleeper of his craft, which distinction he claimed for himself without fear of successful contradiction, McGuire Ellis was wont to devote half an hour or more, beginning on the ninth stroke of the clock, to the cultivation of Morpheus. Intruders were not popular at that hour.
"We should have news, at least." "Ives or McGuire," suggested Forsythe, in low tones. "Or Billy Edwards," amended Carter. "Not Edwards," said Trendon. "How do you know?" demanded Forsythe. "Dory was aboard when we found her the second time, after Edwards had left." "Can you make out which of the men are in her?" hailed the captain.
"For mercy's sake, Susan Betts, if you ain't the greatest!" ejaculated Mrs. McGuire, with disapproving admiration. "If you was dyin' I believe you'd stop to write a poem for yer gravestone!" Susan Betts chuckled wickedly, but her voice was gravity itself. "Oh, I wouldn't have ter do that, Mis' McGuire. I've got that done already."
McGuire's news of the blinding of John McGuire was not three days old before a full account of the tragedy from beginning to end was flying from tongue to tongue an account that would have surprised no one so greatly as it would have surprised John McGuire himself. To Susan, Dorothy Parkman came one day with this story.
Accordingly, at that hour Judge Bender convened Part IX of the General Sessions in the court room and then adjourned downstairs, where all the prospective witnesses for the prosecution were lined up in a body and told to raise their right hands. Meantime Clerk McGuire was handed the hatchet, and approached the coop with obvious misgivings.
You're the guard and I'm the prisoner?" "I'm watching these hosses," said McGuire. "That's all. They ain't no money could hire me to guard a woman." "Really?" said Marianne. "Sure. I used to have a wife. I know." She laughed, a little hysterically, but McGuire treated the mirth as a compliment to his jest and joined in with a tremendous guffaw.
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