So intense were Abner’s feelings that he forgot all about the train. He could think only of the meanness of Henry Whittles and those who were in league with him. Not a cent of money would he give, so he vowed, if they persisted in placing the Home in such a vile place. He knew that it could be levelled off, and cleaned up to a certain extent. But that would take much of the money needed for the erection of the building. Then he thought of Lawyer Rackshaw and his contemptible dealings with Widow Denton. He was glad that his nose had been scorched, and that he had tumbled backwards upon the floor.
"Pity he hadn’t broken his neck," he muttered. "This town could well do without sich a thing as that."
Abner was aroused from his reverie by the screech of the train as it approached a crossing about half a mile from the station. He glanced at his watch in astonishment, and then hurried back through the town.
"I had no idea it was train time," he mused. "But I guess Sam’ll look after the gal all right. Not bein’ there will save me a lot of fussin’. Sam likes that kind of thing, ’specially when a pretty gal’s consarned."
Abner was about one hundred yards from the station when he saw a horse, drawing an express waggon, coming toward him. As it approached, he noticed that a woman held the reins, and that she was bareheaded. In a twinkling the truth flashed upon him, and he paused, uncertain what to do. He knew that it was Belle Rivers driving Jerry at an unusually fast clip. She was using the whip, too, and it was quite evident that Jerry was receiving the surprise of his life.
At first Abner was astonished. Then he grew indignant, and sprang into the middle of the street as Jerry drew near. He reached out to grasp the horse by the bridle, but as he did so the fair driver brought the whip stingingly down upon his head. With a roar Abner made for the waggon, but was met with another and yet another well-aimed blow.
This excitement, combined with the flourishing of the whip, was more than Jerry could stand. With lowered head, he sped along the street, leaving a huge cloud of dust in his wake. Abner had just time to leap and seize the end of the express as it dashed by, and to pull himself partly aboard. He sprawled across the tailboard, holding on by his elbows, and balancing himself upon his stomach, with his feet beating a tattoo upon the ground. He tried to clutch at something, but the rattle of the waggon, and the steady rain of blows upon his head and shoulders, prevented him from making any progress. And there he hung, speechless and helpless.