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Tarkington, Booth, 1869-1946

"The Gentleman from Indiana"

It rang, and rang, and rang, and rang. She could not
breathe. She threw open the window. The bell stopped. All was quiet once
more. The east was growing gray.
Suddenly out of the stillness there came the sound of a horse galloping
over a wet road. He was coming like mad. Some one for a doctor? No; the
horse-hoofs grew louder, coming out from the town, coming this way, coming
faster and faster, coming _here_. There was a splashing and trampling in
front of the house and a sharp "Whoa!" In the dim gray of first dawn she
made out a man on a foam-flecked horse. He drew up at the gate.
A window to the right of hers went screeching up. She heard the judge
clear his throat before he spoke.
"What is it? That's you, isn't it, Wiley? What is it?" He took a good deal
of time and coughed between the sentences. His voice was more than
ordinarily quiet, and it sounded husky. "What is it, Wiley?"
"Judge, what time did Mr. Harkless leave here last night and which way did
he go?"
There was a silence. The judge turned away from the window. Minnie was
standing just outside his door. "It must have been about half-past nine,
wasn't it, father?" she called in a shaking voice. "And, you know, Helen
thought he went west."
"Wiley!" The old man leaned from the sill again.
"Yes!" answered the man on horseback.
"Wiley, he left about half-past nine--just before the storm.


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