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Updated: June 4, 2025
Since I was a kid he's been the best friend I ever had. Anything else you boys would like to know?" Barbee had risen slowly from the floor. "Packard's son or the devil's," he said quickly, his eyes never leaving Blenham, "I'm with you."
The senior Packard's scowl had known fame as long as fifty years ago; never was it blacker than right now. For a little he stood still glaring at the floor. Blenham watched him covertly, a look of craft in the one good eye. "Better go over an' see Temple right away," said Packard presently. "He won't be able to pay up his next instalment. Tell him I'm goin' to foreclose an' drive him out.
And lifting a sheet of paper from a pile lying on the table before him, he took a pencil from his pocket and began making lines to amuse the child dancing on his knee. Mrs. Packard's eyes opened in wonder mingled with some emotion deeper than distaste, but she said nothing, only watched in a fascinated way his moving fingers.
He tickled the animal in the flank; it spun about, pulling back, plunging, drawing Woods's eyes. And the next thing which Woods clearly understood was that Steve Packard was upon him, that one of Packard's hands was at his throat, that the other had gone for the gun on Woods's hip and had gotten it.
Eighteen months past, Jonah had met Ada, who worked at Packard's boot factory, at a dance. Struck by her skill in dancing, he courted her in the larrikin fashion. At night he stood in front of the house, and whistled till she came out. Then they went to the park, where they sprawled on the grass in obscure corners.
"No," I admitted, unpleasantly divided between a wish to draw her out and the fear of betraying Mayor Packard's trust in me by showing the extent of my interest. "Well, it's only gossip," she laughingly assured me. "You needn't think of it, Miss. I'm sure you'll be all right. We girls have been, so far, and Mrs. Packard "
Mrs. Packard's health is not what it was, and some say that the causes are not purely physical." He tried to dissimulate. Putting his arm about her, he kissed her fondly and protested with mingled energy and feeling: "I believe you to be all you should be a true woman and true wife."
Packard's hand; birds, arrows, skipping boys and hanging men, etc., being confined to No. 5, the product of another brain and hand, at present unknown. Now what conclusions could I draw from these? I shall give them to you as they came to me that night.
Such a look might have leaped to life in the eyes of the Medusa when she turned her beauty upon her foredoomed victims. "Dead!" came again in ringing repetition from Mrs. Packard's lips, every fiber in her tense form quivering and the gleam of hope shining brighter and brighter in her countenance. "No, not dead!"
I thought it very likely, especially when I heard the faint sound of a door opening below, followed by the swish of silken skirts. I recalled Mayor Packard's fears and began to suspect that they were not groundless.
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