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"That's it, over yonder," said the man, jerking his thumb over his shoulder at a nondescript building some way ahead. "That looks more like a jail." "Wal, so 'tis. The jail's in the ell part o' the tavern. Cephe Bement keeps 'em both." "It's a queer notion to put em under the same roof." "I dunno 'bout that, nuther. It's mostly by way o' the tavern that fellers gits inter jail, I calc'late."
"A hull slew on em," replied Bement. "I've got one more'n I shall hev much longer, tew." "Who be that?" asked Zeke. "Wal, I callate George Fennell won't hole out much longer." "Fennell; George Fennell! George Fennell is not in this jail," cried Perez. "Wal, naow," said Bement, imperturbably, "perhaps ye know better'n I dew."
Then he turned to Abner and said in a grimly quiet way: "Knock Bement down. Then four of you swing him by his arms and legs and break the jail door through with his head." "Ye wouldn' murder me, cap'n," gasped the hapless man. In a trice Abner had hauled him out from behind the bar, and tripped him up on the floor.
Representatives of the Postoffice Department had arrived on the Steamship China in July and they immediately took charge of the Manila Post-office, which was opened for business on the 16th. The Custom House was opened on the 18th, with Lieutenant-Colonel Whittier as Collector, and the Internal Revenue office, with Major Bement as Collector on the 22nd.
If wust comes to wust, it's a comfort ter know ez ye're a perfesser in good stannin." Bement had doubtless had previous experience of a certain tenacity of purpose on the part of his spouse, for ceasing to address further adjurations to her, he began to appeal for mercy to the men. "Two," said Abner, as they swung him again. Now, Mrs.
She will be quite an acquisition to us. Miss Marker is just a little schoolgirl, but well connected, I understand. Her mother was a Monroe. I knew her father when he was just beginning the study of law. He had a very brilliant career in prospect, apparently, but through some sad freak of fate lost his money and was obliged to abandon it. He is bookkeeper now for Bement & Ahlering."
Will you be kind enough to hand me the keys, there behind you?" Bement stared as if dazed at Perez, looked around at the crowd of men, and then looked back at Perez again, and still stood gaping. "Did ye hear the cap'n?" shouted Abner in a voice of thunder. Bement gave a start of terror, and involuntarily turned to take the bunch of keys down from the nail.
The girl was quite pale, and she stared with a scared fascination at the wall behind which her father was shut up. Timidly the women entered the open door. Both Bement and his wife were in the barroom. "What dew ye want?" demanded the latter, sharply. Mrs. Poor curtsied very low, and smiled a vague, abject smile of propitiation. "If ye please, marm, I'm Mis Poor. He's in this ere jail fer debt.
But by the time he had turned, the keys were no longer there. It had been easy to see from the first, that Mrs. Bement was made of quite different stuff from her husband. As she stood by his side behind the bar, although she was tremulous with excitement, the look with which she had faced the crowd was rather vixenish than frightened.
In the barroom of the tavern there was a crowd of drinking, carousing men, and among them a number of the white-faced debtors, already drunk with the bumpers their deliverers were pouring down their throats. Bement was not visible, but as Abner and Perez entered the jail, they saw Mrs. Bement in the corridor. She was not making any fuss or trouble at all over the breaking of the jail this time.
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