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Thornton described the man, guessed at his age, and told what he knew of "Rattlesnake" Pollard. Comstock seemed interested in a mild sort of a way, but neither now nor later, as Thornton spoke of other men, did he give any sign of more than mild interest. "Who are Pollard's friends?" was the next question.
The first thing the people in Pollard's big house knew of the return of the two was a voice singing faintly and far off in the stable they could hear it because the door to the big living room was opened. And Kate Pollard, who had been sitting idly at the piano, stood up suddenly and looked around her.
After eleven o'clock came the examination on the text-book geography, which had this term owing to Miss Pollard's influence supplemented the lantern lectures on that subject. When she saw the first question, "Describe the products of Java and Borneo," Merle gave such an audible chuckle that many eyes were cast in her direction, and Miss Mitchell glared a warning.
At last she came to Henry Pollard's house. It stood back from the street in a little yard notable for the extreme air of untidiness the rank weeds gave it and for its atmosphere of semi-desertion among its few stunted, twisted, unpruned pear trees. The fence about it had once been green, but that was long, long ago.
There, beside Pollard's chair, was his waste paper basket, filled to overflowing with crumpled papers. And, thrusting upward through the papers, catching her eye because the papers were white and it was another colour, was a long, yellow envelope. An envelope exactly like the one in which Mr. Templeton had put the bank notes she was to carry to her uncle!
"Oh, thank God, thank God," cried her heart, "and he is coming early in the morning too!" "Well, mother," said Tom when he reached home, "I have made it up with Alice Lister." "Tha' never ses!" and Mrs. Pollard's voice was very caressing. "That's one for Polly Powell, anyhow. She wur never thy sort, Tom a lass wi' a mother like that can never be ony good."
"Whether my getting by Port Hudson was of consequence or not," he wrote chaffingly in reference to some slighting comments in a Southern newspaper, "if Pollard's stomach were as tightly pinched for food as theirs at Port Hudson and Vicksburg have been since I shut up Red River, he would know how to value a good dinner and a little peace."
"You're not treating me fairly," protested Sam Truax, indignantly. "I'm sorry you think so. Still, if you're not satisfied, all I can do is to pay you off to date. Then you can go where you please." "I'm here by David Pollard's order. Do you forget that?" "He sent you along to us, true," admitted Jack, "but I have instructions from Mr. Farnum to dismiss anyone whose work on board I don't like.
It was his capacity for toil that had made him not his intellect, but his ability to persevere the power which, in the old days, had successfully carried him through Jerry Pollard's store. As chairman of the Democratic Party, men had called his campaigns brilliant.
Dunlee presently, when the child was once more respectably clad, and was walking down to dinner between herself and Aunt Vi, "but my little son, what could have possessed you to climb a roof? Was that a nice thing to do?" "No, mamma, of course not. But 'twas all Nate Pollard's fault. Nate stumped me to it and I took the stump." "What do you mean?"
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