The blacksmith
had told himself that if he got into trouble for publicly attacking the
father he would be justified in telling what he knew about the daughter.
The blacksmith did not come into Main Street that evening. As he went home
from work he saw Tom Butterworth standing with Steve Hunter before the
post-office. For several weeks Tom had been spending most of his time away
from town, had only appeared in town for a few hours at a time, and had not
been seen on the streets in the evening. The blacksmith had been waiting
to catch both men on the street at one time. Now that this opportunity had
come, he began to be afraid he would not dare take it. "What right have I
to spoil my boy's chances?" he asked himself, as he went rather heavily
along the street toward his own house.
It rained on that evening and for the first time in years Smoky Pete did
not go into Main Street. He told himself that the rain kept him at home,
but the thought did not satisfy him. All evening he moved restlessly about
the house and at half past eight went to bed. He did not, however, sleep,
but lay with his trousers on and with his pipe in his mouth, trying to
think. Every few minutes he took the pipe from his mouth, blew out a cloud
of smoke and swore viciously. At ten o'clock the farmer, who had owned the
cow-pasture back of his house and who still kept his cows there, saw his
neighbor tramping about in the rain in the field and saying things he had
planned to say on Main Street in the hearing of the entire town.
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