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"Ah, Jack!" exclaimed Miss Jane, solemnly, "I won't deny but what old Bradley Gaither is been mighty busy runnin' arter the rudiments of the world, but the time was when you'd kindle up barely at the mention of Rose Gaither's name." "Shall I tell you the truth, Miss Jane?" asked Jack Carew, turning to Miss Inchly with a frank but bashful smile.
So far as petty litigation was concerned, Squire Ichabod Inchly, the wheel-wright, was prepared to hold justice-court in the open air in front of his shop when the weather wag fine, and in any convenient place when the weather was foul.
"Innocent or guilty," said Bradley Gaither, "he has been sent to the penitentiary." Miss Jane gave a quick glance at Rose, and was just in time to catch her as she fell from her chair. "Ah, poor child!" cried Miss Jane, "her heart is broke!" "Rose! Daughter! Darling!" exclaimed Bradley Gaither, dropping on his knees beside her. "Oh, what is this? What have I done? Speak to her, Miss Inchly!
He'll fetch 'em up wi' a round turn, s' I; 'He knows how to deal wi' unreasonable and wicked men. I said them very words." "Saint Paul said 'em before you, Sister Jane, but you said 'em right, you said 'em right," exclaimed Squire Inchly, heartily. "Well, I don't set up to judge nobody, but I don't need no spyglass to see what's right in front of my face," said Miss Jane.
He was first at church, and the last to leave; he even affected a sort of personal interest in politics; but the knack of addressing himself to the respect and esteem of his neighbours he lacked altogether. He was not parsimonious, but, as Squire Inchly expressed it, "narrer-minded in money matters."
Squire Inchly had a jovial appearance ordinarily; but when he found it necessary to wrestle with the moral problems that the sharp tongue of his sister presented to his mind, he was in the habit of putting on his spectacles, as if by that means to examine them more impartially. He put his spectacles on now, and with them a severe judicial frown.
"You've never failed to do that, Jack, when the pinch come." "Well, this is the pinch, then. But for Rose Gaither I should have sold out here when I first found how matters stood. I could easily sell out now to Bradley Gaither." "That's so, Jack, you could," said Squire Inchly, who had been a sympathetic listener. "Yes, sir, you could; there ain't no two ways about that."
When the preacher reached the end, he said, "Let us pray;" and while that prayer, as fervent as simplicity could make it, was ascending heavenward, the soul of Bradley Gaither took its flight. "I glanced at him arter the breath left him," said Squire Inchly, relating the facts to his sister, "and he looked like a man that had shook hisself free from a heap of worriment. I hope he's at peace.
Squire Inchly spoke seriously, as became a magistrate. Bradley Gaither's thin lips grew thinner as he smiled. "I'm as serious as the thieves that stole my cotton, Squire Inchly," said Bradley Gaither. "Two whole bales of cotton in these days is a heavy loss," said the Squire, reflectively. "I hope you'll ketch the inconsiderate parties to the larceny."
The men talked in subdued tones when they met, as though they expected justice to discharge one of her thunderbolts at their feet; and the women went about their duties with a degree of nervousness that was aptly described by Miss Jane Inchly long afterwards, when reciting the experiences of that most memorable day in the history of Pinetucky.
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