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"Aw," said Cap'n Jacka again, and shut his mouth tight. Young Dick Hewitt's father had shares in the Company and money to buy votes beside. "What do'ee think?" asked Mr. Job, still slanting his eye down his nose. "I'll go home an' take my wife's opinion," said Cap'n Jacka. So when he got home he told it all to his funny little wife that he doted on like the apple of his one eye.
He could put a very decent dinner on the table, too, at the Hare and Hounds, and Hewitt's frequent invitation to him to join therein and divide a bottle of the best in the cellar soon put the two on the very best of terms. Good terms with Mr.
Hewitt's nearest rival would probably have been Senator Pendleton who stood father to civil service reform in 1882, an attempt to correct a vice that should never have been allowed to be born. These were the men who succeeded. The press stood in much the same light. No editor, no political writer, and no public administrator achieved enough good reputation to preserve his memory for twenty years.
The inhabitants had seven forts for the security of their women and children, extending about ten miles on the river, and too many men would stay in them to take care of them; but after collecting about three hundred of the most spirited of them, including Captain Hewitt's company, I held a council with the officers, who were all agreed that it was best to attack the enemy before they got any farther.
Hewitt's instructions to the landlord were few, but emphatic. "Don't tell Steggles about it," he said; "make an excuse to get rid of him, and send him out of the house. Take Crockett into some other bedroom, not his own, and let your son look after him. Then come here, and I'll tell you all about it."
But Lawson was long in coming, having received the note after a long professional round, and when at last he arrived, Mason was a little reassured by the promise of Hewitt's visit. Therefore, he did not tell the doctor so much as he might have done. Nevertheless, he talked wildly and vaguely, so that Dr. Lawson feared some disturbance of his reason.
Kentish was Hewitt's great desire, for the information he wanted was of a sort that could never be extracted by casual questioning, but must be a matter of open communication by the publican, extracted in what way it might be. "Look here," said Kentish one day, "I'll put you on to a good thing, my boy a real good thing.
"Now tell me exactly what instructions the man in the train gave you, and what happened?" "He sez: 'You ask for Misther Hollams, an' see nobody else. Tell him ye've brought the sparks from Misther W." I fancied I could see a sudden twinkle in Hewitt's eye, but he made no other sign, and the Irishman proceeded. "'Sparks? sez I. 'Yes, sparks, sez he.
"Now, will four of you young men take hold of that cot, gently, and carry it out to my car?" asked Dr. Hewitt. Dick, Dave, Tom and Greg served as the litter bearers. Then, under Dr. Hewitt's instructions, they lifted the old man into the tonneau of the car as though he had been an infant. The boss tramp had already taken his place in the tonneau of the machine.
Abram S. Hewitt, who was then president of the railroad company. Upon Mr. Hewitt's eightieth birthday congratulations poured in from all quarters. One cable from abroad attracted attention as appropriate and deserved: "Ten octaves every note truly struck and grandly sung." No man in private life passed away in our day with such general lamentation.
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