His Yankee shrewdness told him that the showman had undoubtedly produced his best for this conflict; his Yankee cupidity hinted that by taking advantage of Hiram"s present fl.u.s.tered state of mind he might turn a dollar. He glanced from Hiram to Cap"n Sproul, standing at one side, and said with careless superiority:
"Make your talk!"
"I"ve got five hundred that says I"ve got the best hen."
"There ain"t goin" to be no foolishness about rules and sport, and hitchin" and hawin", is there? It"s jest hen that counts!"
"Jest hen!" Hiram set his teeth hard.
"Five hundred it is," agreed Reeves. "But I need a fortni"t to collect in some that"s due me. Farmin" ain"t such ready-money as the circus bus"ness."
"Take your fortni"t! And we"ll settle place later. And that"s all, "cause it makes me sick to stand anywhere within ten feet of you."
Hiram strode away across the fields, his wounded gladiator on his arm.
And, as it was near dinner-time, Cap"n Sproul trudged into his own house, his mien thoughtful and his air subdued.
On his next visit to Hiram, the Cap"n didn"t know which was the most preoccupied--the showman sitting in the barn door at Imogene"s feet, or the battered P.T. propped disconsolately on one leg. Both were gazing at the ground with far-away stare, and Hiram was not much more conversational than the rooster.
The next day Hiram drove into the Sproul dooryard and called out the Cap"n, refusing to get out of his wagon.
"I shall be away a few days--mebbe more, mebbe less. I leave time and place to you." And he slashed at his horse and drove away.
X
It was certainly a queer place that Cap"n Sproul decided upon after several days of rumination. His own abstraction during that time, and the unexplained absence of Hiram, the bridegroom of a month, an absence that was prolonged into a week, caused secret tears and apprehensive imaginings in both households.
Hiram came back, mysterious as the Sphinx.
Cap"n Sproul arranged for a secret meeting of the princ.i.p.als behind his barn, and announced his decision as to place.
"The poor-farm!" both snorted in unison. "What--"
"Hold right on!" interrupted the Cap"n, holding up his broad palms; "it can"t be in _his_ barn on account of his wife; it can"t be in _my_ barn on account of my wife. Both of "em are all wrought up and suspectin" somethin". Some old pick-ed nose in this place is bound to see us if we try to sneak away into the woods. Jim Wixon, the poor-farm keeper, holds his job through me. He"s square, straight, and minds his own business. I can depend on him. He"ll hold the stakes.
There ain"t another man in town we can trust. There ain"t a place as safe as the poor-farm barn. Folks don"t go hangin" round a poor-farm unless they have to. It"s for there the ev"nin" before the Fourth. Agree, or count me out. The first selectman of this town can"t afford to take too many chances, aidin" and abettin" a hen-fight."
Therefore there was nothing else for it. The princ.i.p.als accepted sullenly, and went their ways.
The taciturnity of Hiram Look was such during the few days before the meeting that Cap"n Sproul regretfully concluded to keep to his own hearthstone. Hiram seemed to be nursing a secret. The Cap"n felt hurt, and admitted as much to himself in his musings.
He went alone to the rendezvous at early dusk. Keeper Wixon, of the poor-farm, had the big floor of the barn nicely swept, had hung lanterns about on the wooden harness-pegs, and was in a state of great excitement and impatience.
Second Selectman Reeves came first, lugging his crate from his beach-wagon. The crate held the Widow Pike"s rooster. His nomination had his head up between the slats, and was crowing regularly and raucously.
"Choke that dam fog-horn off!" commanded the Cap"n. "What are ye tryin" to do, advertise this sociable?"
"You talk like I was doin" that crowin" myself," returned Reeves, sulkily. "And n.o.body ain"t goin" to squat his wizen and git him out of breath. Hands off, and a fair show!"
Hiram Look was no laggard at the meeting. He rumbled into the yard on the box of one of his animal cages, pulled out a huge bag containing something that kicked and wriggled, and deposited his burden on the barn floor.
"Now," said he, brusquely, "business before pleasure! You"ve got the stakes, eh, Wixon?"
"In my wallet here--a thousand dollars," replied the keeper, a little catch in his voice at thought of the fortune next his anxious heart.
"And the best hen takes the money; no flummery, no filigree!" put in Reeves.
Hiram was kneeling beside his agitated bag, and was picking at the knots in its fastening. "This will be a hen-fight served up Smyrna style," he said, grimly. "And, as near as I can find out, that style is mostly--scrambled!"
"I"ve got a favor to ask," stammered Wixon, hesitatingly. "It don"t mean much to you, but it means a good deal to others. Bein" penned up on a poor-farm, with nothin" except three meals a day to take up your mind, is pretty tough on them as have seen better days. I"ll leave it to Cap"n Sproul, here, if I ain"t tried to put a little kindness and human feelin" into runnin" this place, and--"
Hiram was untying the last knot. "Spit out what you"re drivin" at,"
he cried bluntly; "this ain"t no time for sideshow barkin". The big show is about to begin."
"I want to invite in the boys," blurted Wixon. And when they blinked at him amazedly, he said:
"The five old fellers that"s here, I mean. They"re safe and mum, and they"re jest dyin" for a little entertainment, and it"s only kindness to them that"s unfortunate, if you--"
"What do you think this is, a livin"-picture show got up to amuse a set of droolin" old paupers?" demanded Hiram, with heat.
"Well, as it is, they suspect suthin"," persisted Wixon. "All they have to do to pa.s.s time is to suspect and projick on what"s goin"
on and what"s goin" to happen. If you"ll let me bring "em, I can shet their mouths. If they don"t come in, they"re goin" to suspect suthin"
worse than what it is--and that"s only human natur"--and not to blame for it."
The two selectmen protested, official alarm in their faces, but Hiram suddenly took the keeper"s side, after the manner of his impetuous nature, and after he had shrewdly noted that Reeves seemed to be most alarmed.
"I"m the challenger," he roared. "I"ve got something to say. Bring "em, Wixon. Let "em have a taste of fun. I may wind up on the poor-farm myself. Bring "em in. There"s prob"ly more sportin" blood in the paupers of this town than in the citizens. Bring "em in, and let"s have talkin" done with."
In a suspiciously short time Wixon led in his charges--five hobbling old men, all chewing tobacco and looking wondrously interested.
"There!" said Hiram, an appreciative glint in his eyes. "Nothin" like havin" an audience, even if they did come in on pa.s.ses. I"ve never given a show before empty benches yet. And now, gents"--the old spirit of the "barker" entered into him--"you are about to behold a moral and elevatin" exhibition of the wonders of natur". I have explored the jungles of Palermo, the hills of Peru Corners, the valleys of North Belgrade, never mindin" time and expense, and I"ve got something that beats the wild boy Tom and his little sister Mary.
Without takin" more of your valuable time, I will now present to your attention"--he tore open the bag--"Cap"n Kidd, the Terror of the Mountains."
The wagging jaws of the old paupers stopped as if petrified. Keeper Wixon peered under his hand and retreated a few paces. Even doughty Cap"n Sproul, accustomed to the marvels of land and sea, snapped his eyes. As for Reeves, he gasped "Great gorlemity!" under his breath, and sat down on the edge of his crate, as though his legs had given out.
The creature that rose solemnly up from the billowing folds of the bagging had a head as smooth and round as a door-k.n.o.b, dangling, purple wattles under its bill, and breast of a sanguinary red, picked clean of feathers. There were not many feathers on the fowl, anyway.
Its tail was merely a spreading of quills like spikes. It was propped on legs like stilts, and when it stretched to crow it stood up as tall as a yard-stick.
"Let out your old doostrabulus, there!" Hiram commanded.
"That ain"t no hen," wailed his adversary.
"It"s got two legs, a bill, and a place for tail-feathers, and that"s near enough to a hen for fightin" purposes in this town--accordin"
to what I"ve seen of the sport here," insisted the showman. "The princ.i.p.al hen-fightin" science in Smyrna seems to be to stand on t"
other hen and peck him to pieces! Well, Reeves, Cap"n Kidd there ain"t got so much pedigree as some I"ve owned, but as a stander and p.e.c.k.e.r I"m thinkin" he"ll give a good, fair account of himself."