"You've made
me do the work of a man, and, thank God, I've got the muscle of
one. Don't lift a finger to Patty, or I'11 defend her, I promise
you! The dinner-horn is in the side entry and two blasts will
bring Uncle Bart up the hill, but I'd rather not call him unless
you force me to."
The Deacon's grasp on the whip relaxed, and he fell back a little
in sheer astonishment at the bravado of the girl, ordinarily so
quiet and self-contained. He was speechless for a second, and
then recovered breath enough to shout to the terrified Patty: "I
won't use the whip till I hear whether you've got any excuse for
your scandalous behavior. Hear me tell you one thing: this little
pleasure-trip o' yourn won't do you no good, for I'11 break the
marriage! I won't have a Wilson in my family if I have to empty a
shot-gun into him; but your lies and your low streets are so
beyond reason I can't believe my ears. What's your excuse, I
say?"
"Stop a minute, Patty, before you answer, and let me say a few
things that ought to have been said before now," interposed
Waitstill. "If Patty has done wrong, father, you've no one but
yourself to thank for it, and it's only by God's grace that
nothing worse has happened to her.
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