"We must go now, we have an errand we must do. Come along, Janet."
She rose to go with him but looked back wistfully several times as she went, with lagging feet, down the hill. She had wished that the story might last forever, so that she need not face Anthony Crawford at the end of it.
They said nothing to each other as they climbed into the car and threaded the twisting lanes and byroads that would take them to the house they sought. Oliver was rehearsing within himself what he should say when they presented the picture. "My sister carried this away by mistake, we thought that we should return it to you as soon as possible.
"And then he will say something sharp and unkind, and I won't know what to answer," he reflected drearily1. "I will want to say that I am sure it isn't his anyway and that Janet did well to take it, even by accident. But what is the use of stirring up more trouble? Well, I can only explain and then get away as quickly as we can."
It is probable that Janet, who sat by him in low-spirited silence, was really suffering less than he. Oliver had undertaken the responsibility of returning the picture, and Oliver was a dependable boy who could manage it far better than she could. She thought little of what was to be said or done and was only anxious to have the affair over.
They left the car in the lane and walked together toward the sagging2 gate. A man was just coming through it, who proved, as they came near, to be John Massey. His good-natured, friendly face was pale under its sunburn and drawn3 into unfamiliar4 lines of anger and despair.
"Mr. Peyton sent me the money to settle up my rent," he told them, "and I came up here to pay it and arrange about leaving. Crawford wants me to stay until the first of the month, but I am going to-day. He has never stocked the farm with the tools and machinery5 a landlord is supposed to furnish, so I've bought them myself, what I could, and now he says they are his. He wants to know how I can prove that I paid for them, when every one knows that it was his place to do it. He laughed at me when I said it would ruin me entirely6. He said one man's gain was always from another man's loss. I vow7 there is the spirit of a devil in him."
He looked back at the house among the trees, clenching8 his big hands and muttering to himself in helpless fury.
"He just stood there grinning, even guessing my thoughts, for he said, 'You could knock me down, I know, but it would be no satisfaction to you, for I would get back at you through the law. It would cost you more than it is worth, John Massey.' It was what I knew was true myself, so I kept my hands off him and came away."
Janet and Oliver stood looking at him miserably9, knowing that there was nothing to be done.
"Get into the car and wait for us," Oliver directed at last. "We will take you home when we have finished here. We won't stay long."
"You won't want to," observed John Massey bitterly. "He is in a famous bad temper."
They went through the gate with Janet's steps lagging more than ever. There was something almost uncanny about a man who could cause such misery10 to other people and yet go unscathed himself. They saw him almost immediately as they came up the path. He had been cutting down some weeds in the neglected field and was standing11 in the middle of it, close beside the scarecrow. He did not move, but waited for them to come close, evidently meditating12 what he could say that would hurt and anger them the most. He began to speak the moment they came near, giving Oliver no opening for what he had meant to say:
"So Jasper Peyton, having sent one of you to steal my picture, has lost courage and sent two of you to bring it back again. Very clever, very clever of him indeed!"
"He knew nothing about it," Janet was beginning passionately13, when Oliver silenced her by a touch on her shoulder.
"He knows that," he reminded her calmly; "he is only trying to make you angry."
He caught a look of smoldering14 fury in Anthony Crawford's eye and a note of surprised irritation15 in his voice.
"Well," the man snapped, "am I to have my property or not?"
"You are to have it. We will not keep anything that you even claim as yours," returned Oliver.
He felt hot rage surging up within him, yet he strove to keep it down. He had realized, of a sudden, that this man who could hurt his Cousin Jasper so deeply, who could ruin John Massey, could harm neither him nor Janet in the least. Oliver had felt real dread16 as he came through the gate, he had been haunted by the vague terror of what Anthony Crawford might be able to do, but he looked upon him now with disillusioned17 eyes, knowing him for nothing but a small-minded, selfish, spiteful man whose power over them was nothing at all.
"If I can only keep as calm as he can, he will never get the better of me," the boy thought desperately18 as he struggled with his own rising tide of anger.
"Perhaps you would be glad to have me establish my real rights," said Crawford. "You would like to have it brought up in court, perhaps, how your sister was found going through my possessions, and how she happened, quite by chance, of course, to select the most portable and valuable article in my house and carry it away with her. She would like, I am sure, to have public opportunity to make all that quite plain."
Oliver heard Janet's gasp19 of panic-stricken horror, but he still, by a great effort, retained his own presence of mind.
"We are not afraid of you," he asserted, looking straight into the other's narrow, shifting eyes. "I am nearly as big as you and I could roll you over and over in the mud of this wet field, only that would give you the legal hold on me that is just what you wish. You can't do us any real harm, no matter what you pretend. I don't believe you have anything behind those threats you make to Cousin Jasper, I don't think you believe in your claims yourself. You're a bluff20; like this scarecrow here, you're nothing but a bogy man, stuffed with straw!"
He caught the scarecrow by the shoulder, venting21 his rage upon the helpless bundle of rags, shaking it even out of its ridiculous resemblance to its master, until it fell to bits about his feet. He flung down the miniature upon the heap of rags and, followed by Janet, walked away across the field. Anthony Crawford stood looking after him, never offering a word. When Oliver reached the path he became aware that John Massey was leaning over the gate, grinning in half-terrified delight. The rain was beginning to fall steadily22 again as they came out into the lane and climbed into the car.
It rained all of the afternoon, but ceased at nightfall, just in time, so Janet said, "to keep Mrs. Brown from nervous prostration23." Oliver could not quite understand how plump, comfortable Mrs. Brown could be threatened with such a malady24, for he had forgotten that next day there was to be a much heralded25 outing for all the members of Cousin Jasper's household. The occasion was a celebration at the next village, a glorified26 edition of the ordinary country fair in which farmers, summer visitors, and the residents of the bigger estates were all accustomed to take part. A magnificent affair it was to be with exhibitions, merry-go-rounds, peanut and lemonade stands, motor races, a horse show—something to please the taste of every variety of person. It was Cousin Jasper's custom to give the whole staff of servants a holiday for the festival, although the cook usually waited to serve an early lunch and Mrs. Brown came home before the others, to set out a late supper. No influence on earth could ever persuade Cousin Jasper to attend one of these merrymakings, but every other person under his roof was absorbed in looking forward to the great day of the summer. Elaborate preparations had been made and all that was now in question was the weather, for to make such an event a success it seemed absolutely necessary to have one of those clear, blazing-hot days that seem specially27 to belong to circuses, fairs, and midsummer festivals.
Janet was to go under the safe, but excited, wing of Mrs. Brown, and Oliver, also, was looking forward to the day with some anticipation28.
"I wonder if the Beeman and Polly will be there," he thought, and went off into further speculation29 as to what the Beeman would look like in the more civilized30 clothes that such an occasion would demand. "I might not even know him," he reflected.
When the day came, however, cloudless, hot, just what such a day should be, Oliver suddenly announced that he was not going.
"I don't like to leave Cousin Jasper all alone when he is so worried," he said to Janet, but could not explain why there should be any cause for misgiving31. "I didn't care a great deal about going anyway." He refused to listen to her suggestion that she should stay also.
Lines of motors were rolling down the road from early morning onward32, filled with flannel-coated or befrilled holiday makers33 or laden34 with farmers and farmers' wives and farmers' children. Janet and Mrs. Brown, the one an excited flutter of white organdie skirts, the other a ponderous
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