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Updated: September 16, 2025
Crailey said Carewe could better afford to lose his shanties than the overworked Department its first chance to look beautiful and earnest. Tom asked him why he didn't send for a fiddle," Marsh finished with a chuckle. "Carewe might afford to lose a little, even a warehouse or two, if only out of what he's taken from Crailey and the rest of us, these three years!" "Taken from Vanrevel, you mean.
"Missy," he said, gravely, "Dey big trouble 'twix' dem two." "I know," she returned quietly. "What is it?" "Wha' fo' you ax me, Missy?" "Because you're the only one I can ask. I don't know anyone here well enough, except you." Nelson's lips puckered solemnly. "Mist' Vanrevel vote Whig; but he ag'in Texas." "Well, what if he is?" "Yo' pa mighty strong fo' Texas."
This latter point-of-view was that of the firm of Gray & Vanrevel, which was a unit in such matters.
Most of the vagabonds can sing and play a bit, and so can Crailey, particularly when he's had a few bowls of punch; but when Tom Vanrevel touches the guitar and lifts up his voice to sing, there isn't an angel in heaven that wouldn't quit the place and come to hear him! Crailey wrote those words to Virginia Bareaud. But you must keep him away, Princess."
Deep anxiety knitted Crailey's brow. "I understood she knew of the quarrel," he said, thoughtfully. "I saw that, the other evening when I helped her out of the crowd. She spoke of it on the way home, I remember; but how did she know that you were Vanrevel? No one in town would be apt to mention you to her." "No, but she did know, you see." "Yes," returned Mr. Gray slowly. "So it seems!
Thus it happened, that when the water came again, and Vanrevel let it fall in a grateful cascade upon Crailey and himself, three manly voices were heard singing, as three men toiled through the billows of rosy gray, below the beleaguered pair: "Oh the noble Duke of York, He had Ten thousand men; He marched them up the side of a house, And marched them down again!"
"Why didn't you present me to her?" asked Vanrevel. "Because I thought a man of your gallantry might prefer not to face a shotgun in the presence of ladies!" "Pooh!" "Pooh!" mimicked Miss Bareaud. "You can 'pooh' as much as you like, but if he had seen us from the window " She covered her face with her hands for a moment, then dropped them and smiled upon him.
But the roof was to be mounted or Robert Carewe's property lost. Already little flames were dancing up from the shingles, where firebrands had fallen, their number increasing with each second. So Vanrevel raised his arms, took a hard grip upon the lowest rung of the grappling-ladder and tried it with his weight; the iron hooks bit deeper into the roof; they held.
Meanwhile, by dint of shouting in men's ears when near them, through the trumpet when distant, tearing axes from their hands, imperiously gesticulating to subordinate commanders, and lingering in no one spot for more than a second, Mr. Vanrevel reduced his forces to a semblance of order in a remarkably short time, considering the confusion into which they had fallen.
All these, and others of the town, were wont to "talk politics" a great deal at the little club on Main Street and all were apt to fall foul of Tom Vanrevel or Crailey Gray before the end of any discussion.
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