The Glass Village Read Online Free Page B

man with a head like William Jennings Bryan was stacking loaves of bread on the counter as he talked to a lanky teenage boy in jeans. There was something tense about the set of the boy’s head, and Judge Shinn touched Johnny on the arm. “Let’s wait,” he said.
    The boy at the counter said something at last in a low voice. Peter Berry smiled, shaking his head. He was about forty-five, with a jowly face that kept changing shape as its curves merged and dissolved. It was the kind of face that should have been rosy; instead, it was a disappointing gray. And where the blue eyes should have twinkled, they were lumpy and cold.
    â€œWho’s the boy?” murmured Johnny.
    â€œDrakeley Scott, Earl and Mathilda Scott’s eldest. He’s seventeen.”
    â€œHe seems distressed about something.”
    â€œWell, Drake’s got his row to hoe. With Earl and Seth helpless, it’s his farm to run. It’s cut into his schooling.” The Judge shrugged. “He’s a full year behind. Don’t suppose he’ll ever finish. … Good morning, Drake.”
    Drakeley Scott shuffled toward them, eyes lowered. They were beautiful eyes with great welts under them. His thin face was pimpled and sore-looking.
    â€œMornin’, Judge.”
    â€œWant you to meet a relative of mine.”
    The boy raised his eyes unseeingly. “How do,” he said. “Judge, I got to get back to the barn—”
    â€œGetting any help these days, Drakeley?” asked the Judge.
    â€œSome. Old man Lemmon right now. Jed Willet from over Comfort—he’s promised to cut the south lot and help me get the hay in, but Jed can’t come till next week.” The Scott boy pushed by them suddenly.
    â€œSee you at the exercises?”
    â€œDunno, Judge. Ma’ll be there with Judy.” Drakeley Scott shuffled out rapidly, his meager shoulders drawn in as if he expected a blow from behind.
    â€œMornin’,” boomed Peter Berry. He was all overlapping smiles. “Real fine day, Judge! Lookin’ forward to your speech today …” He kept glancing from Judge Shinn to Johnny, his gray face shifting and changing as if it were composed of seawater.
    â€œThank you, Peter.” The Judge introduced Johnny.
    â€œReal glad to meet you, Mr. Shinn! Judge’s kin, hey? Ever visited before?”
    â€œNo.”
    â€œThat’s too bad. How d’ye like our little community?”
    â€œNice solid sort of town,” said Johnny tactfully. “Settled. Peaceful.”
    â€œThat’s a fact.” Johnny wished that Berry’s face would stand still for a moment, “Visitin’ long?”
    â€œA week or so, Mr. Berry.”
    â€œWell, now, that’s fine. Oh, Judge, Millie Pangman was in t’other day chargin’ some groceries to your account. Is it all right?”
    â€œOf course it’s all right, Peter,” said the Judge a bit sharply.
    â€œDarn fine woman, Millie. Credit to Shinn Corners—”
    â€œWe won’t keep you, Peter,” said the Judge. “I know you’re open only for a few hours this morning—”
    â€œJudge.”
    â€œYes?”
    Peter Berry was leaning over his counter in a confidential way.
    â€œHad it in my mind to talk to you for quite a while now …”
    Johnny delicately drifted off to the book rack. But Berry seemed to have forgotten him, and the booming voice carried.
    â€œIt’s about the Scotts.”
    â€œOh?” said Judge Shinn. “What about the Scotts?”
    â€œWell, now, you know I been carryin’ the Scotts right along …”
    â€œOwe you a big bill, do they, Peter?”
    â€œWell, yes. I was wonderin’ what I could do about it. You bein’ a lawyer and a judge—”
    Judge Shinn’s voice grew shrill. “You mean you want to take the Scotts to court?”
    â€œCan’t carry ’em forever, Judge. I like to