The Allen House | Page 7

T.S. Arthur

"Perhaps."
Something in this "perhaps," and the tone in which it was uttered,
seemed not to strike the questioner agreeably. He bent his brows a little,
and looked more narrowly at the landlord.
"I did not see much of your town as I came in this evening. How large
is it?"
"Middling good size, sir, for an inland town," was the not very
satisfactory answer.

"What is the population?"
"Well, I don't know--can't just say to a certainty."
"Two thousand?"
"Laws! no sir! Not over one, if that."
"About a thousand, then?"
"Maybe a thousand, and maybe not more than six or seven hundred."
"Call it seven hundred, then," said the traveler, evidently a little
amused.
"And that will, in my view, be calling it enough."
There was a pause. The traveler seemed in doubt as to whether he
should go on with his queries.
"Not much trade here, I presume?" He asked, at length.
"Not much to boast of," said Adams.
Another pause.
"Any well-to-do people? Gentlemen who live on their means?"
"Yes; there's Aaron Thompson. He's rich, I guess. But you can't
measure a snake 'till he's dead, as they say."
"True," said the traveler, seeming to fall into the landlord's mood.
"Executors often change the public estimate of a man as to this world's
goods. So, Aaron Thompson is one of your rich men?"
"Yes, and there's Abel Reeder--a close-fisted old dog, but wealthy as a
Jew, and no mistake. Then there is Captain Allen."
A flash of interest went over the stranger's face, which was turned at

once from the light.
"Captain Allen! And what of him?" The voice was pitched to a lower
tone; but there was no appearance of special curiosity.
"A great deal of him." The landlord put on a knowing look.
"Is he a sea captain?"
"Yes;" and lowering his voice, "something else besides, if we are to
credit people who pretend to know."
"Ah! but you speak in riddles, Mr. Adams. What do you mean by
something more?"
"Why, the fact is, Mr. Willoughby, they do say, that he got his money
in a backhanded sort of fashion."
"By gambling?"
"No, sir! By piracy!"
Col. Willoughby gave a real or affected start.
"A grave charge that, sir." He looked steadily at the landlord. "And one
that should not be lightly made."
"I only report the common talk."
"If such talk should reach the ears of Captain Allen?" suggested the
stranger.
"No great likelihood of its doing so, for I reckon there's no man in
S----bold enough to say 'pirate' to his face."
"What kind of a man is he?"
"A bad specimen in every way."

"He's no favorite of yours, I see?"
"I have no personal cause of dislike. We never had many words
together," said the landlord. "But he's a man that you want to get as far
away from as possible. There are men, you know, who kind of draw
you towards them, as if they were made of loadstone; and others that
seem to push you off. Captain Allen is one of the latter kind."
"What sort of a looking man is he?"
"Short; thick-set; heavily built, as to body. A full, coarse face; dark
leathery skin; and eyes that are a match for the Evil One's. There is a
deep scar across his left forehead, running past the outer corner of his
eye, and ending against the cheek bone. The lower lid of this eye is
drawn down, and the inside turned out, showing its deep red lining.
There is another scar on his chin. Two fingers are gone from his left
hand, and his right hand has suffered violence."
"He has evidently seen hard service," remarked the stranger, and in a
voice that showed him to be suppressing, as best he could, all signs of
interest in the landlord's communication.
"There's no mistake about that; and if you could only see him, my word
for it, you would fall into the common belief that blood lies upon his
conscience."
"I shall certainly put myself in the way of seeing him, after the spur you
have just given to my curiosity," said Col. Willoughby, in a decided
manner, as if he had an interest in the man beyond what the landlord's
communication had excited.
"Then you will have to remain here something more than a week, I'm
thinking," replied the landlord.
"Why so?"
"Captain Allen isn't at home."

There was a sudden change in the stranger's face that did not escape the
landlord's notice. But whether it indicated pleasure or disappointment,
he could not tell; for it was at best a very equivocal expression.
"Not at home!" His voice indicated surprise.
"No, sir."
"How long has he been absent?"
"About a month."
"And is expected to return soon, no doubt?"
"As
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