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Updated: June 8, 2025
As for Percival, if that young man was not literally and actually a bandit, at least he had all the instincts of one. In any case, he was a "bum." Whenever Mr. Landover was at a loss for a word to express contumely for his fellow-man, and he was seldom at a loss, he called him a "bum."
The arrogance of the strong mellowed into consideration for the weak; wisdom and culture went hand in hand with ignorance and brawn; malice and rancour left the hearts of the lowly and met half-way the departing insolence of the lofty; fellowship took root and throve in a field rich with good deeds. The heart of man was master here, the brain its humble servant. Landover worked hard, doggedly.
Something told him that Ruth Clinton and Mrs. Spofford had turned against him. "I have nothing to say to you," said Landover, curtly. Turning on his heel, he joined the two ladies at the rail. He spoke a few words to them in a lowered tone, and then the three of them strode off without so much as a glance at the young man. Percival flushed a dull red under his tan.
Perceiving that some sort of an answer was expected, "Bill" wisely shrugged his shoulders. "Soapy" interpreted the shrug as affirmative, having a distinct advantage over "Bill," who hadn't the faintest idea which it was, and proceeded to go a little deeper into the matter. "Now, as I was saying, this Landover guy is up against something, Bill. She handed him something he didn't like.
I rather fancy " "Pooh!" sniffed her aunt. "He is worse than all the Tammany bosses put together. The other men on the council of ten eat out of his hand, as Abel Landover says. His word is law, or, I should have said, his smile is law. All he has to do is to grin and the argument is over. I've never seen anything like the way people give in when he smiles. It is disgusting."
Landover turned on his heel and walked away, and Percival, with a shrug of his shoulders, set about making preparations to safe-guard Sancho Mendez when he was brought in from the wood. He posted a number of reliable, cool-headed men around the "meetinghouse," many of them being armed. Arrangements were made for barricading the door and the few windows.
Landover was speechless. A hard glitter came to Percival's eyes, the smile left his lips. "You heard what I said, Mr. Block. I'll make it plainer, however. If you men don't get into the next boat leaving this ship, I'm going to have you thrown overboard and made to swim to your work.
"By Jove, you've got me guessing, Madame Obosky," he exclaimed, frankly puzzled. "I can't make you out at all." She shrugged her shoulders. "Zat is because I am a thousand years old and very, oh, so very wise, Mr. Percivail," she returned, with a smile. "Au revoir!" Percival went straight to Captain Trigger. "See here, Captain," he said at once, "I'm up against it with Landover.
It was the noon hour. Scores of men were resting in the shade of the huts as she strode briskly past. They all smiled cheerily, but there was good humoured mockery in their smiles. Here and there were groups of women talking earnestly, excitedly. Abel Landover was leaning in his doorway, watching her approach. His eyes gleamed. She was very beautiful, she was very desirable.
As he closed the door, he said to himself: "Next time you tell me to go to hell, Abe Landover, I guess you'd better furnish a guide that knows the way." As soon as the door was closed, Mrs. Spofford turned upon her radiant niece. "You are not such a fool as to believe that rascal's story, Ruth?" "I believe every word of it!" cried the girl.
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