"What are we going to do with him, Mr. President?" asked one of the men who had the unpleasant duty of standing by and keeping guard over the squire.
"Bind him over to keep the peace," replied the president. "Squire Sanders," he called, and thereat every one held his or her breath, "this is a sad predicament to find an officer in. In fact the occurrence is a disgrace to the town of Dalton."
The squire shifted uneasily in the chair. He had not spoken coherently since the struggle with Ralph, and was still in an ugly mood. At the same time he understood who now addressed him; the president of the board; the man who had authority to bring matters about so as to deprive him of the office he had held for years.
"Stand up!" called the president, and the squire shuffled awkwardly to his feet.
"What have you to say in this matter? We have a quorum of the board here present and we may as well dispose of this case. There is also another count pending against you. How did you come to let that man Anderson slip out of Dalton so easily--help him out in fact? Was his money better than that of the people of this town, who for years have been paying you for duties that you have never honestly performed?"
At the mention of Anderson, Squire Sanders" face turned from red to a deadly ashen.
"Look out," cautioned Ralph aside to the president, "he is old you know, and might drop at any moment."
"Not a bit of it," went on Mr. MacAllister. "He is too tough for that.
Speak up, Sanders. This is your last chance."
But the man never moved his lips. Sullen and beaten he sat there while Mr. MacAllister, recounted some of his misdeeds.
"You have disgraced your office," he declared, "but the most outrageous of your offenses was that of bringing into this office two innocent schoolgirls--doctoring up a charge against them, trying to force them to acknowledge they had taken part in an affair that they had absolutely nothing to do with--and all this you did for the paltry fee that goes with each case on your books. Now, Sanders, I have spoken to the members of the board here present and the verdict in your case is--that you leave Dalton inside of ten days. The penalty for contempt in the matter will be a public trial, and, no doubt, imprisonment."
It was a difficult matter to restrain the boys present. They wanted to cheer--to shout, but were not allowed to do so. Ralph had quite recovered himself now, and so insisted on going alone to the drugstore to have his slight wounds dressed if necessary. Two of the selectmen looked after Sanders, releasing him of the handcuffs, and advising him "to make himself scarce" around Dalton, until the feeling against him had quieted down some. All the defiance had left him now; he scarcely raised his head as he crept out the back way to his rooms next door.
Upon hearing the school story in full Mr. MacAllister decided to take his daughter and Tavia back to the school room himself, and set every thing right with Miss Ellis and her pupils.
"You have had a rough time of it lately," he commented as he and the two girls made their way to the school.
"But Alice is a--a brick!" declared Tavia, in appreciation of her friend"s a.s.sistance. "She helped us splendidly."
"Glad to hear it," answered the father, "Alice is our tom-boy, but she is true-blue, eh, Bob?" he said patting his daughter affectionately.
"You knew what I meant about the man Anderson, did you not, Tavia?" he went on. "That was your "special friend" I believe."
"Oh, I have met him," replied Tavia laughing, "but I think now the reason the old squire wanted to get me into this trouble was because he thought it might affect Dorothy Dale, as she is my special friend.
Somehow the Burlock-Anderson affair seemed to be aimed at the Dales."
"Oh, yes, no doubt of it," answered Mr. MacAllister, "but we think we are on the track of settling the matter now."
Tavia felt she could scarcely wait to tell all this to Dorothy, for she had been wondering what had become of the Anderson affair. Alice looked proudly up at her father as they neared the school.
"They may think you have come to take someone else away," she said laughing. "This has been a queer picnic day."
"Don"t worry about that," he answered. "You must have an extra good time to make up for your troubles and disappointment, I will see what I can do for you."
Alice cast a meaning glance at Tavia. If her father undertook to give Dalton school a treat it would surely be something worth while, Alice was sure, and so, with that bright prospect uppermost in her mind, she led her father into the school room.
CHAPTER XIV
THE SECRET
It took but a short time for Mr. MacAllister to explain everything satisfactorily to Miss Ellis and her pupils. He was a gentleman any daughter might well be proud of, and, indeed, Alice showed a pardonable pride as he stood there smiling and a.s.suring the teacher that, as president of the Selectmen of Dalton, he would promise a holiday to the cla.s.s that would make up in every way for the disappointment of the morning.
When the visitor had departed, Miss Ellis announced she would carry out the intended program as far as a half session was concerned, but, as it was too late to go on the picnic then the pupils might go home and enjoy themselves as they wished.
Tavia and Alice were now regarded as heroines. To think they had really been in the court, and that they had been witnesses to--"a fight," as Tavia declared Squire Sanders" attack on Ralph was "nothing more nor less than a common roll around fight."
Finally the picnic lunches were disposed of, and Tavia took Dorothy"s arm as they walked homeward--she had much to tell Dorothy and knew that no girl would interrupt such apparent confidence as "arm in arm"
indicated.
"And what do you think Mr. MacAllister said?" began Tavia. "That old Squire Sanders let that horrible man get out of Dalton--the man who frightened us so!"
"Did he?" replied Dorothy, absently.
"And you knew, of course, about poor Miles Burlock--he died when you were sick, so I did not tell you anything about it."
"Yes, father told me."
"What are you thinking of, Doro? You are not listening to me at all."
"I have so much to think of," answered Dorothy, smiling. "I can hardly keep my thoughts in line."
"But you should have seen Alice--Oh, she just pulled the old squire by the collar. She didn"t wait for a man to come. And look at my dress!
Isn"t it a sight? I might have known there would be an earthquake or a fight when I attempted to wear anything like this."
"It is too bad, but that is a straight tear. You can easily mend it."
"But Ralph"s eye; that will not darn so neatly. I hope that hateful old squire never shows his ugly "phiz-mahogony" in Dalton again."
"Do you think Ralph is much hurt?" Dorothy inquired anxiously. "Wasn"t it disgraceful?"
"Perfectly rambunctious!" declared Tavia, "although it might have been jolly good fun if Ralph had another fellow in his place--one not quite so careful of the squire"s feelings and features. But you should have seen the squire with the handcuffs on! Oh! it was better than the play I saw in Rochester," and Tavia relieved her pent-up jollity by tossing into the air the borrowed lunch box and making "pa.s.ses" at it, with queer pranks in imitation of the jugglers she had seen at Rochester.
"Tavia," asked Dorothy, very seriously, "do you think you could keep a secret?"
"Keep a secret? Dorothy darling, Dare-me!"
"Now, no joking, Tavia," insisted Dorothy, "this is a matter of importance."
"Oh, I just love importance. That was what mostly happened to me and Alice to-day in the squire"s office--importance!"
"Well, if you really can"t be serious--
"Oh, but, Doro dear, just try me. I shall weep if you say so, only--pardon, mamselle, but do not, if you please, make that weep too long, a few sniffs only, for I have not with me in this fleshling costume ze "kerchief," and she made a most ridiculous little French "squat," further evidence of the Rochester play.
"I am afraid Tavia, that trip to your Aunt Mary"s has affected your head; they say nothing can do so more effectively than certain kinds of plays."