With this consoling remark the lawyer plodded up to the camp, to wait until it should be time to start down the lake.
As Parker toiled through the woods that day he reflected seriously on his situation. He fully appreciated the fact that Ward's malice intended some ugly retaliation. The danger viewed here in the woods and away from the usual protections of society seemed imminent and to be dreaded.
But the young man realized how skeptically Whittaker and Jerrard would view any such apprehensions as he might convey to them, reading his letter in the comfortable and matter-of-fact serenity of the city. He knew how impatient it made President Whittaker to be troubled with any subordinate's worry over details. His rule was to select the right man, say, "Let it be done," and then, after the manner of the modern financial wizard inspect the finished result and bestow blame or praise.
Parker regretfully concluded that he must keep his own counsel until some act more overt and ominous forced him to share his responsibility.
That evening, as he sat in his room at the tavern, busy with his first figures of the survey, some one knocked and entered at his call, "Come in!"
CHAPTER SIX--IN WHICH "THE CAT-HERMIT OF MOXIE" CASTS HIS SHADOW LONG BEFORE HIM
It was the postmaster who appeared at Parker's invitation to enter. That official stroked down his beard, tipped his chair back, surveyed the young man with the solemnity of the midnight raven and observed:
"I hear you and Colonel Gid had it hot and tight up to Poquette to-day."
"There was an argument," returned Parker, quietly.
"I don't want to be considered as meddlin' with your affairs, Mr. Parker, but I've known Gid Ward for a good many years, and I want to advise you to look sharp that he doesn't do you some pesky mean kind of harm."
"Yes, but you don't seem to take it to heart enough. Or if you do, you don't show it. That was the reason I was afraid you didn't realize what a man you have to deal with."
"He seems to me like a blustering coward. Your really brave and determined men don't make so much talk."
"Oh, Gid Ward has tried his usual game of scare with his mouth, and it didn't work. He won't come again at you that way in the open right way. But"--the postmaster brought his chair down on its four legs and leaned forward to whisper--"he'll come again at you in the dark, and it's then that he's dangerous."