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Read Ebook: A Fortnight of Folly by Conway Hugh Thompson Maurice
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Ebook has 82 lines and 47872 words, and 2 pages
ut the sheriff was there in his most terrible form, and he forced himself upon their consideration with his quiet but effective methods of legal procedure.
"Gaslucky has been caught in a wheat corner at Chicago," Lucas explained, "and has been squeezed to death."
"We'll have to get out of this place in short order," said Lucas, "the sheriff has levied an attachment on the hotel and all it contains."
"What!"
"How's that?"
"Do you mean that the house is to be shut up and we turned out?"
"Just that," said Lucas. "The sheriff has invoiced every thing, even the provisions on hand. He says that we can't eat another bite here."
"And I'm starving even now!" exclaimed Punner. "I could eat most anything. Let's walk round to Delmonico's, Cattleton."
"But really, what can we do?" demanded Ferris, dolefully enough.
"Go home, of course," said Cattleton.
Ferris looked blank and stood with his hands thrust in his pockets.
"I can't go home," he presently remarked.
"Why?"
"I haven't money enough to pay my way."
"That is precisely my fix," said Lucas gravely.
"You echo my predicament," said Peck.
"My salary is suspended during my absence," said Punner, with his eyes bent on the floor.
Little Mrs. Philpot was speechless for a time as the force of the situation broke upon her.
"Squeezed in a wheat corner?" inquired Miss Stackpole, "what do you mean by that?"
"I mean that Gaslucky got sheared in the big deal the other day at Chicago," Lucas explained.
"Got sheared?"
"Yes, the bulls sat down on him."
"Oh, you mean a speculation--a--"
"Yes, Gaslucky was in for all he was worth, and they run it down on him and flattened him. A gas-man's no business in wheat, especially in Chicago; they spread him out, just as the sheriffs proceedings have flattened all our hopes for the present."
"It's just outrageous!" cried little Mrs. Philpot, finding her voice. "He should have notified us, so that--"
"They didn't notify him, I guess," said Cattleton.
"No, he found it out afterwards," remarked Lucas, glancing gloomily toward where Dunkirk and Miss Moyne stood, apparently in light and pleasant conversation.
Viewed in any light the predicament was a peculiar and distressing one to the guests of Hotel Helicon. The sheriff, a rather ignorant, but very stubborn and determined man, held executions and writs of attachment sued out by Gaslucky creditors, which he had proceeded to levy on the hotel and on all the personalty visible in it belonging to the proprietor.
"'Course," said he, "hit'll be poorty hard on you'ns, but I can't help it, I've got ter do my juty, let it hurt whoever it will. Not er thing kin ye tech at's in this yer tavern, 'ceptin' what's your'n, that air's jest how it air. So now mind w'at yer a doin'."
The servants were idle, the dining-room closed, the kitchen and pantries locked up. Never was there a more doleful set of people. Mrs. Nancy Jones Black thought of playing a piece of sacred music, but she found the grand piano locked, with its key deep in the sheriff's pocket.
The situation was made doubly disagreeable when at last the officer informed the guests that they would have to vacate their rooms forthwith, as he should proceed at once to close up the building.
"Heavens, man, are you going to turn us out into the woods?" demanded Peck.
"Woods er no woods," he replied, "ye'll hev ter git out'n yer, right off."
"But the ladies, Mr. Sheriff," suggested Punner, "no Southern gentleman can turn a lady out of doors."
The officer actually colored with the force of the insinuation. He stood silent for some time with his eyes fixed on the floor. Presently he looked up and said:
"The weeming kin stay till mornin'."
"Well they must have something to eat," said Punner. "They can't starve."
"Thet's so," the sheriff admitted, "they kin hev a bite er so."
"You men folks cayn't hev a dorg gone mouthful, so shet up!"
"Well," observed Cattleton, dryly, "it appears the odds is the difference between falling into the hands of moonshiners and coming under the influence of a lawful sheriff."
"Fur yer part," said the sheriff coolly, "fur yer part, Mister, ef ye fool erlong o' me I'll crack yer gourd fur ye."
"You'll do what?"
"I'll stave in yer piggin."
"I don't understand."
"Yes," said Hubbard, visibly shrinking into himself, "I begin to suspect your meaning."
Miss Crabb was taking notes with enthusiastic rapidity.
Dunkirk called the sheriff to him and a long conference was held between them, the result of which was presently announced.
"I heve thort it over," said the quiet officer of the law, "an' es hit appear thet w'at grub air on han' an' done cooked might spile afore it c'u'd be sold, therefore I proclamate an' say at you'ns kin stay yer tell termorrer an' eat w'at's cooked, but tech nothin' else."
Cattleton and Punner applauded loudly. To everybody the announcement was a reprieve of no small moment, and a sigh of relief rustled through the groups of troubled guests. Those who had been down the ravine were very tired and hungry; the thought of a cold luncheon to them was the vision of a feast.
Dunkirk had a basket of wine brought down from his room and he made the sheriff sit beside him at the table.
"We may as well make the most of our last evening together," he said, glancing jovially around.
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