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chapter XVii the hour of the powers of darkness the night following the day on which the Farthings disappeared stands as the blackest in the valley annals. Few who have not passed their childhood amid the dark whisperings of witchcraft and the evil eye and of unseen presences which lurk to do evil, can imagine the terror that fell upon many throughout the region after the event at Roaring Run. The group that met at twilight at Squire Hartswick’s store was small but select. The sheriff and the Sugar Valley deputies, who were to spend the night at Hartswick Hall, were sitting glum and surly on boxes about the door. The Squire was in a chair in the doorway ,silent and moody,smoking his corn-cob; Lem Fisher,to whom the world presented as many devils as ever it did to old Cotton Mather, was centre and spokesman, warmly seconded by Ulie Dribelbis and old Jake Kisterbock. The powers of darkness were having their hour. “Do you-uns s’pose one minute that three grown men could hide themselves in the rocks of that little hole so that a hundred couldn’t find ’em? Heigh? Is that reasonable wunst? They couldn’t get out of there; you know that. Abner Moritz was right clost to ’em still and he knows they didn’t go down the Run. I tell you a haexer like Farthing don’t get ketched less he wants to. Nosuh.” the house of the black ring { 182 } “What did he run for?” asked Amos quietly.“Why didn’t he stand jest where he was peeling bark and haex the whole gang? What was the use of running himself half to death? Why didn’t he jest drop out of sight in his tracks and save all the hard work of runnin’over the ridge?” “Huh! That’s all a Yankee knows. W’y that’s clearer ’n mud still. He run ’cause he didn’t have nothing to haex with. A haexer has to have tools jest as much as a blacksmith. They must have locks of hair, and pieces of Bibles, and keys, and blood, and what not. Now can’t you see it? If it had been you or we, wouldn’t we have struck for the Wild Medders instead of goin’ it for a man-trap like the Run? I tell yeh he was strikin’ for Gran’maw Miller. While you-uns was a-foolin’ round she had time enough to hide a nation.” “Yas, and why did she stop you off at the door and make yeh get a warrant?” broke in Ulie.“Wal, I’ll tell yeh why.” He closed one eye and nodded his head knowingly.“She had to have time to work her spell. Did you see her weavin’that brauch? I tell you-uns if we knew the bottom of this business we’d be scairt. Something awful’s comin’.We don’t know who’s turn it is next, but it’s one of us.” “Yessuh, he’s right.” Lem Fisher took up the argument with unction .“That brauch meant death. I’ve saw it twicet in my life a’ready and what’s twicet is thricet. There’s goin’ to be an awful death in this walley until twenty-four hours still.You-uns take notice of what I say.” An awed silence fell over the group. At length old Jake Kisterbock spoke with faltering voice. “Let me tell you-uns somesing wunst. When I got hum this afternoon , my woman comes to the door with a face like a dish-clout still, and she sayes, sayes she, almost yammerin’,‘Come in here wunst.’ Then she takes me into the bedroom and sayes she,‘Keep still wunst.’ It was still as the grave. And then—oh my Lord!” He leaned far over the group, his eyes glittering like a child’s.“The death watch was tickin’ there in the wall.‘Tick-tick-tick-tick-tick,’ right by the headboard.‘It’s death,’ sayes the woman, fallin’ over on the bed and cryin’ like as if the life was goin’ out of her still,‘It’s death, death, death.’Yessuh, I’ve heard it before, and it always brings death in this walley until twenty-four hours.” “I don’t want to scare yeh, Squire.” Lem Fisher spoke deferentially. “But the signs do pint at you.” “Humph,” he grunted. “Recollect that apple-tree that blowed late last...

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