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Undoubtedly McConkey and Crossan are close relations, brothers-in-law perhaps. We reached the Green Loaney Scutching Mill at about half-past five o'clock. Cahoon, who seemed to know all about the establishment, led me through some very dusty purlieus. McConkey, when we came upon him, did not seem particularly pleased to see Cahoon. He looked at me with suspicious malignity.
"An article we can illustrate, showing the hemp and flax growing in Russia and Italy, then all the business of pulling, steeping and retting, drying and scutching. That would be one chapter." "It shall be done. I see it I see the whole thing an elegant brochure and well within my power. I am fired with the thought. There is only one objection, however." "None in the world.
"You'll be better able to talk about that," said Cahoon, "when you've seen the man I'm going to take you to. Seeing's believing." I was, of course, quite willing to go with Cahoon if he would really show me a citizen soldier in a scutching mill. We got out the motor car and started. "He's a man by the name of McConkey," said Cahoon. "A good name," I said. "One expects something from a McConkey."
Cahoon did not say anything for about ten minutes. Then he went on "McConkey is foreman in the mill." "The scutching mill?" I asked. It was, of course, the scutching mill. I only asked the question in order to keep up the conversation. The long silences were embarrassing. Cahoon did not answer me.
I thought I might encourage him by telling him something he would be pleased to hear. "McConkey," I said, "who is foreman in the Green Loaney Scutching Mill, is buying a splendid quick-firing gun." The remark did not have the effect I hoped for. It had an exactly opposite effect. Crossan shut up like a sea anemone suddenly touched. "Your lordship's affairs won't be neglected," he said stiffly.
Cahoon looked me full in the face for nearly half a minute without replying. Then he took out his watch and looked at it. Then he took me by the arm and led me towards the yard. "Did you ever see the Green Loaney Scutching Mill?" he said. I had never seen any scutching mill. I have only a vague idea of what a scutching mill is. "It'll not be more than twenty miles from this," said Cahoon.
He got his weapon into position and adjusted a belt of cartridges, working as coolly as if he were arranging the machinery of the Green Loaney Scutching Mill. He seemed to find a horrible satisfaction in what he was doing. Twice I saw him pat the muzzle of the thing as if to give it encouragement. I dare say he talked to it. "He's damned cool," said Bland.
I heard father tell him he'd give him a scutching he'd remember to the day of his death; but inasmuch as I had told Leon to do it, I had to grab father and hold to him tight as I could, until I got breath enough to explain how it happened. Even then I wasn't sure what he was going to do.
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