FullReads

The Wales pew was close to a window on the south side; the side where the new stable was. Indeed Ann could see it, if she looked out. She sat next the window because the other women minded the draught more.

Right across the aisle from Mrs. Polly’s pew was Thomas Penniman’s. He was there with his wife, and six stalwart sons. The two youngest, Levi and John, were crowded out of the pew proper, and sat in the one directly back.

John sat at the end. He was a tall, handsome young fellow, two or three years older than Ann. He was well spoken of amongst his acquaintances for two reasons. First, on account of his own brave, steady character; and second, on account of his owning one of the finest horses anywhere about. A good horse was, if anything, a more important piece of property then than now. This one was a beautiful bay. They called him “Red Robin.”

To-day, Red Robin was carefully blanketed and fastened in the new stable. John thought when he tied him there how thankful he was he had such a good shelter this bitter day. He felt grateful to Lieutenant Seth Turner, who owned all the land hereabouts and had given the liberty to build it.

The people all sat quietly listening to the long sermon. Two hours long it was. When the minister perched up in his beetling pulpit with the sounding-board over his head, was about half through his discourse, Ann Wales happened to glance out of the window at her side. She rarely did such a thing in meeting-time; indeed she had been better instructed. How she happened to to-day, she could not have told, but she did.

It was well she did. Just at that moment, a man in a gray cloak sprang into the Horse-House, and began untying John Penniman’s Red Robin.

Ann gave one glance; then she never hesitated. There was no time to send whispers along the pew; to tell Phineas Adams to give the alarm.

Out of the pew darted Ann, like a red robin herself, her read cloak flying back, crowding nimbly past the others, across the aisle to John Penniman.

“Somebody’s stealing Red Robin, John,” said she in a clear whisper. They heard it for several pews around. Up sprang the pewful of staunch Pennimans, father and sons, and made for the door in a great rush after John, who was out before the whisper had much more than left Ann’s lips.

The alarm spread; other men went too. The minister paused, and the women waited. Finally the men returned, all but a few who were detailed to watch the horses through the remainder of the services, and the meeting proceeded.

Phineas sent the whisper along the pew, that John had got out in time to save Red Robin; but the robber had escaped. Somehow, he had taken alarm before John got there. Red Robin was standing in the stable untied; but the robber had disappeared.

After meeting the people all came and questioned Ann. “He was a very tall man, in a gray cloak,” said she. “He turned his face, or I saw it, just for one second, when I looked. He had black eyes and a dark curling beard.”

It seemed very extraordinary. If it had not been for Red Robin’s being untied, they would almost have doubted if Ann had seen rightly. The thief had disappeared so suddenly and utterly, it almost seemed impossible that he could have been there at all.

There was much talk over it after meeting. “Are you sure you saw him, Ann?” Mrs. Polly asked.

“Yes; I am sure,” Ann would reply. She began to feel rather uncomfortable over it. She feared people would think she had been napping and dreaming although Red Robin was untied.

That night the family were all in bed at nine o’clock, as usual; but Ann up in her snug feather-bed in her little western chamber, could not sleep. She kept thinking about the horse-thief, and grew more and more nervous. Finally she thought of some fine linen cloth she and Mrs. Polly had left out in the snowy field south of the house to bleach, and she worried about that. A web of linen cloth and a horse were very dissimilar booty; but a thief was a thief. Suppose anything should happen to the linen they had worked so hard over!