They'll pray to-day with the taste of blood in
their mouths. It's gone too far. Only a miracle can keep things right.
The Mayor has wired for the mounted police--our own battalion of militia
wouldn't serve, and there'd be no use ordering them out--but the Riders
can't get here in time. The train's due the very time the funeral's to
start, but that train's always late, though they say the ingine-driver is
an Orangeman! And the funeral will start at the time fixed, or I don't
know the boys that belong to the lodge. So it's up to We, Us & Co. to see
the thing through, or go bust. It don't suit me. It wouldn't have been
like this, if it hadn't been for what happened to the Chief last night.
There's no holding the boys in. One thing's sure, the Gipsy that give
Ingolby away has got to lie low if he hasn't got away, or there'll be one
less of his tribe to eat the juicy hedgehog. Yes, sir-ee!"
To the last words of Jowett the Ry seemed to pay no attention, though his
lips shut tight and a menacing look came into his eyes. They were now
upon the bridge, and could see what was forward on both sides of the
Sagalac. There was unusual bustle and activity in the streets and on the
river-bank of both towns. It was noticeable also that though the mills
were running in Manitou, there were fewer chimneys smoking, and far more
men in the streets than usual.
Pages:
282
283
284
285
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306