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"I wish I could 'a' tasted it," replied Marshall. "Have a smoke, friends?"
Amos took a cigar but Levine refused.
"Come, John, come," said the stout banker, banteringly. "This is a legal holiday and you and I at least agree on Lydia. Let's stop war for the day, eh?"
Levine's sallow face hardened, then he caught Lydia's blue gaze on him as she stood beside Marshall. It was such a transparent, trusting gaze, so full of affection, so obviously appealing to him to "be nice,"
that in spite of himself he grinned and took a cigar.
Amos settled back with a sigh of satisfaction. He enjoyed company and had had no one but John since his wife's death.
"Looks as if the country'd go Republican next fall," he said by way of starting a conversation.
"I don't see why," returned Marshall, who was a Democrat.
"Folks are sick of Democratic graft," said Levine.
"And Republicans think it's their turn, eh?" inquired Marshall. "Well, maybe it is, maybe it is!"
Amos laughed genially. "Satisfied with your share, Dave?"
"Got my eye on just one more little mite. Just one little mite, then I'm through," chuckled Marshall.
"Then you good Republicans can get your feet into the trough."
"Co-ee! Lydia!" came a call from the lake sh.o.r.e.
Lydia ran to the kitchen door. Charlie Jackson and Kent were skating up to the bank.
"Come out for a while," cried Kent.
"I can't. I've got company. Come on up and get warm," returned Lydia.
The two boys slipped off their skates and came up to the cottage. Kent needed no introduction, and Lydia made short work of Charlie by saying to the a.s.semblage at large, "This is Charlie Jackson. Come on up by the stove, boys."
The boys established themselves on the couch back of the baseburner.
"h.e.l.lo, Marg," said Kent. "What you doing?"
"Paper dolls," returned Margery from her corner, without looking up.
Charlie Jackson stared at the beautiful little black head bent over the bright colored bits of paper with interest.
Amos took up the interrupted conversation. "If we could get a Republican Congress, that block o' pine and black loam twenty miles north would be given to its rightful owners."
"Meaning the full bloods, I suppose," said Levine with a short laugh.
"Yes--full blooded whites," returned Amos.
Charlie Jackson suddenly threw back his head and rose.
"I'm a full blood Indian," he said, quietly. The three men looked at him as if they saw him for the first time.
"Well, what of it?" asked Marshall, shortly.
"This of it," said Charlie, tensely, "that you whites with your Const.i.tution and your Declaration of Independence are a lot of liars and thieves."
Marshall turned purple, but John Levine spoke quickly. "Easy there, my boy! You're talking of things you don't understand."
"Oh, but he does," interrupted Lydia eagerly. "'Governments derive their just powers from the consent of the governed.' We had it in school. It must mean Indians too."
John Levine laughed. "There you have it. And Charlie is right, we are liars and thieves, but we have to be. Might is right in this world."
"Speak for yourself, Levine," cried Marshall.
"Levine!" exploded Charlie. "Are you Levine? You're the man then that my sister--" his voice rose to a shout. "I'll beat the face off of you right now."
And he made a sudden spring for the astonished Levine.
CHAPTER VII
THE REPUBLICAN CANDIDATE
"Nature counts no day as wasted."--_The Murmuring Pine_.
Amos and Kent caught Charlie by either arm as his hands clutched for Levine's throat. Marshall did not stir out of his chair. During the remainder of the episode his face wore a complacent expression that, though Lydia did not consciously observe it at the time, returned to her in after years with peculiar significance.
"Here! Here! This won't do, my young Indian!" cried Amos.
"Let me get at him!" panted Charlie.
Lydia moved away from Lizzie and Margery. The three had automatically jumped to grab Adam's collar for Adam always a.s.sisted in a fight, human or otherwise. She ran over to the Indian.
"Charlie," she pleaded, looking up into his face, "you mustn't hurt Mr.
Levine. He's my best friend. And it is not polite to come to call at my house and make a row, this way."
"That's right," commented Marshall. "Do your fighting outdoors."
John had not stirred from his chair. He looked up at the Indian and said slowly and insolently, "Get out of here! You know what I can do to you, don't you? Well, get out before I do it!"
Charlie returned John's look of contempt with one of concentrated hatred. Then he turned to Kent.
"Come on, Kent," he growled and followed by his friend, he marched out of the kitchen door.
"Whew!" said Amos, "talk about civilizing Indians!"