The Essential Winston Churchill Collection. Winston Churchill
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state. Hain't we got to look out for the fair name of Brampton?"
Mr. Hill sighed and closed his book.
"Well," he said; "I'd hoped we were through with that. Let's go up and see what Judge Graves says about it."
"Hold on," said Mr. Dodd, seizing the feed dealer by the coat, "we've got to get it fixed in our minds what we're goin' to do, first. We can't allow no notorious people in our schools. We've got to stand up to the jedge, and tell him so. We app'inted her on his recommendation, you know."
"I like the girl," replied Mr. Hill. "I don't think we ever had a better teacher. She's quiet, and nice appearin', and attends to her business."
Mr. Dodd pulled his tuft, and cocked his head.
"Mr. Worthington holds a note of yours, don't he, Jonathan?"
Mr. Hill reflected. He said he thought perhaps Mr. Worthington did.
"Well," said Mr. Dodd, "I guess we might as well go along up to the jedge now as any time."
But when they got there Mr. Dodd's knock was so timid that he had to repeat it before the judge came to the door and peered at them over his spectacles.
"Well, gentlemen, what can I do for you?" he asked, severely, though he knew well enough. He had not been taken by surprise many times during the last forty years. Mr. Dodd explained that they wished a little meeting of the committee. The judge ushered them into his bedroom, the parlor being too good for such an occasion.
"Now, gentlemen," said he, "let us get down to business. Mr. Worthington arrived here to-day, he has seen Mr. Dodd, and Mr. Dodd has seen Mr. Hill. Mr. Worthington is a political opponent of Jethro Bass, and wishes Miss Wetherell dismissed. Mr. Dodd and Mr. Hill have agreed, for various reasons which I will spare you, that Miss Wetherell should be dismissed. Have I stated the case, gentlemen, or have I not?"
Mr. Graves took off his spectacles and wiped them, looking from one to the other of his very uncomfortable fellow-members. Mr. Hill did not attempt to speak; but Mr. Dodd, who was not sure now that this was not the fire and the other the frying-pan, pulled at his tuft until words came to him.
"Jedge," he said finally, "I must say I'm a mite surprised. I must say your language is unwarranted."
"The truth is never unwarranted," said the judge.
"For the sake of the fair name of Brampton," began Mr. Dodd, "we cannot allow--"
"Mr. Dodd," interrupted the judge, "I would rather have Mr. Worthington's arguments from Mr. Worthington himself, if I wanted them at all. There is no need of prolonging this meeting. If I were to waste my breath until six o'clock, it would be no use. I was about to say that your opinions were formed, but I will alter that, and say that your minds are fixed. You are determined to dismiss Miss Wetherell. Is it not so?"
"I wish you'd hear me, Jedge," said Mr. Dodd, desperately.
"Will you kindly answer me yes or no to that question," said the judge; "my time is valuable."
"Well, if you put it that way, I guess we are agreed that she hadn't ought to stay. Not that I've anything against her personally--"
"All right," said the judge, with a calmness that made them tremble. They had never bearded him before. "All right, you are two to one and no certificate has been issued. But I tell you this, gentlemen, that you will live to see the day when you will bitterly regret this injustice to an innocent and a noble woman, and Isaac D. Worthington will live to regret it. You may tell him I said so. Good day, gentlemen."
They rose.
"Jedge," began Mr. Dodd again, "I don't think you've been quite fair with us."
"Fair!" repeated the judge, with unutterable scorn. "Good day, gentlemen." And he slammed the door behind them.
They walked down the street some distance before either of them spoke.
"Goliah," said Mr. Dodd, at last, "did you ever hear such talk? He's got the drattedest temper of any man I ever knew, and he never callates to make a mistake. It's a little mite hard to do your duty when a man talks that way."
"I'm not sure we've done it," answered Mr. Hill.
"Not sure!" ejaculated the hardware dealer, for he was now far enough away from the judge's house to speak in his normal tone, "and she connected with that depraved--"
"Hold on," said Mr. Hill, with an astonishing amount of spirit for him, "I've heard that before."
Mr. Dodd looked at him, swallowed the wrong way and began to choke.
"You hain't wavered, Jonathan?" he said, when he got his breath.
"No, I haven't," said Mr. Hill, sadly; "but I wish to hell I had."
Mr. Dodd looked at him again, and began to choke again. It was the first time he had known Jonathan Hill to swear.
"You're a-goin' to stick by what you agreed--by your principles?"
"I'm going to stick by my bread and butter," said Mr. Hill, "not by my principles. I wish to hell I wasn't."
And so saying that gentleman departed, cutting diagonally across the street through the snow, leaving Mr. Dodd still choking and pulling at his tuft. This third and totally-unexpected shaking-up had caused him to feel somewhat deranged internally, though it had not altered the opinions now so firmly planted in his head. After a few moments, however, he had collected himself sufficiently to move on once more, when he discovered that he was repeating to himself, quite unconsciously, Mr. Hill's profanity "I wish to hell I wasn't." The iron mastiffs glaring at him angrily out of the snow banks reminded him that he was in front of Mr. Worthington's door, and he thought he might as well go in at once and receive the great man's gratitude. He certainly deserved it. But as he put his hand on the bell Mr. Worthington himself came out of the house, and would actually have gone by without noticing Mr. Dodd if he had not spoken.
"I've got that little matter fixed, Mr. Worthington," he said, "called the committee, and we voted to discharge the--the young woman." No, he did not deliver Judge Graves's message.
"Very well, Mr. Dodd," answered the great man, passing on so that Mr. Dodd was obliged to follow him in order to hear, "I'm glad you've come to your senses at last. Kindly step into the library and tell Miss Bruce from me that she may fill the place to-morrow."
"Certain," said Mr. Dodd, with his hand to his chin. He watched the great man turn in at his bank in the new block, and then he did as he was bid.
By the time school was out that day the news had leaped across Brampton Street and spread up and down both sides of it that the new teacher had been dismissed. The story ran fairly straight--there were enough clews, certainly. The great man's return, the visit of Mr. Dodd, the call on Judge Graves, all had been marked. The fiat of the first citizen had gone forth that the ward of Jethro Bass must be got rid of; the designing young woman who had sought to entrap his son must be punished for her amazing effrontery.
Cynthia came out of school happily unaware that her name was on the lips of Brampton: unaware, too, that the lord of the place had come into residence that day. She had looked forward to living in the same town with Bob's father as an evil which was necessary to be borne, as one of the things which are more or less inevitable in the lives of those who have to make their own ways in the world. The children trooped around her, and the little girls held her hand, and she talked and laughed with them as she came up the street in the eyes of Brampton,--came up the street to the block of new buildings where the bank