Robinson settled the matter of ownership with Mr. Simpson.
This was feasible, but it meant a quarrel between the two men,
who held an ancient grudge against each other, and Mr. Simpson
was a valiant fighter, as the various sheriffs who had attempted
to arrest him could cordially testify. It also meant that
everybody in the village would hear of the incident and poor
Clara Belle be branded again as the child of a thief.
Another idea danced into her excited brain; such a clever one she
could hardly believe it hers. She might call Mr. Robinson to the
wagon, and when he came close to the wheels she might say,
suddenly: "Please take the flag out of the back of the wagon, Mr.
Robinson. We have brought it here for you to keep overnight."
Then Mr. Simpson might be so surprised that he would give up his
prize rather than be suspected of stealing.
But as they neared the Robinsons' house there was not a sign of
life to be seen; so the last plan, ingenious though it was, was
perforce abandoned.
The road now lay between thick pine woods with no dwelling in
sight. It was growing dusk and Rebecca was driving along the
lonely way with a person who was generally called Slippery
Simpson.
Not a thought of fear crossed her mind, save the fear of bungling
in her diplomacy, and so losing the flag.
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