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diff --git a/2307-h/2307-h.htm b/2307-h/2307-h.htm new file mode 100644 index 0000000..f2d7e3c --- /dev/null +++ b/2307-h/2307-h.htm @@ -0,0 +1,13004 @@ +<?xml version="1.0" encoding="utf-8"?> + +<!DOCTYPE html + PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" + "http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd" > + +<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en"> + <head> + <meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> + <title> + The Depot Master, by Joseph C. Lincoln + </title> + <style type="text/css" xml:space="preserve"> + + body { margin:5%; background:#faebd0; text-align:justify} + P { text-indent: 1em; margin-top: .25em; margin-bottom: .25em; } + H1,H2,H3,H4,H5,H6 { text-align: center; margin-left: 15%; margin-right: 15%; } + hr { width: 50%; text-align: center;} + .foot { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; text-indent: -3em; font-size: 90%; } + blockquote {font-size: 97%; font-style: italic; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%;} + .mynote {background-color: #DDE; color: #000; padding: .5em; margin-left: 10%; margin-right: 10%; font-family: sans-serif; font-size: 95%;} + .toc { margin-left: 10%; margin-bottom: .75em;} + .toc2 { margin-left: 20%;} + div.fig { display:block; margin:0 auto; text-align:center; } + div.middle { margin-left: 20%; margin-right: 20%; text-align: justify; } + .figleft {float: left; margin-left: 0%; margin-right: 1%;} + .figright {float: right; margin-right: 0%; margin-left: 1%;} + .pagenum {display:inline; font-size: 70%; font-style:normal; + margin: 0; padding: 0; position: absolute; right: 1%; + text-align: right;} + pre { font-style: italic; font-size: 90%; margin-left: 10%;} + +</style> + </head> + <body> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> +4The Project Gutenberg EBook of The Depot Master, by Joseph C. Lincoln + +This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with +almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or +re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included +with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org + + +Title: The Depot Master + +Author: Joseph C. Lincoln + +Release Date: May 16, 2006 [EBook #2307] +Last Updated: March 5, 2019 + +Language: English + +Character set encoding: UTF-8 + +*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE DEPOT MASTER *** + + + + +Produced by Donald Lainson; David Widger + + + + + +</pre> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h1> + THE DEPOT MASTER + </h1> + <p> + <br /> + </p> + <h2> + By Joseph C. Lincoln + </h2> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <blockquote> + <p class="toc"> + <big><b>CONTENTS</b></big> + </p> + <p> + <br /> <a href="#link2H_4_0001"> <big><b>THE DEPOT MASTER</b></big> </a> -- <br /><br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0001"> CHAPTER I </a> -- AT THE DEPOT<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0002"> + CHAPTER II </a> -- SUPPLY AND DEMAND<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0003"> CHAPTER III </a> -- “STINGY GABE”<br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0004"> CHAPTER IV </a> -- THE MAJOR<br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0005"> CHAPTER V </a> -- A BABY AND A ROBBERY<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0006"> + CHAPTER VI </a> -- AVIATION AND AVARICE<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0007"> CHAPTER VII </a> -- CAPTAIN SOL DECIDES TO MOVE<br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0008"> CHAPTER VIII </a> -- THE OBLIGATIONS OF A GENTLEMAN<br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0009"> CHAPTER IX </a> -- THE WIDOW BASSETT<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0010"> + CHAPTER X </a> -- CAPTAIN JONADAB GOES<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0011"> CHAPTER XI </a> -- IN THE GREAT METROPOLIS<br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0012"> CHAPTER XII </a> -- A VISION SENT<br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0013"> CHAPTER XIII </a> -- DUSENBERRY'S BIRTHDAY<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0014"> + CHAPTER XIV </a> -- EFFIE'S FATE<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0015"> CHAPTER XV </a> -- THE “HERO” AND THE COWBOY<br /><br /> + <a href="#link2HCH0016"> CHAPTER XVI </a> -- THE CRUISE OF THE RED CAR<br /><br /> <a + href="#link2HCH0017"> CHAPTER XVII </a> -- ISSY'S REVENGE<br /><br /> <a href="#link2HCH0018"> + CHAPTER XVIII </a> -- THE MOUNTAIN AND MAHOMET + </p> + </blockquote> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> + <hr /> + <p> + <a name="link2H_4_0001" id="link2H_4_0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> <br /> <br /> + </p> + <h2> + THE DEPOT MASTER + </h2> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0001" id="link2HCH0001"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER I + </h2> + <h3> + AT THE DEPOT + </h3> + <p> + Mr. Simeon Phinney emerged from the side door of his residence and paused + a moment to light his pipe in the lee of the lilac bushes. Mr. Phinney was + a man of various and sundry occupations, and his sign, nailed to the big + silver-leaf in the front yard, enumerated a few of them. “Carpenter, Well + Driver, Building Mover, Cranberry Bogs Seen to with Care and Dispatch, + etc., etc.,” so read the sign. The house was situated in “Phinney's Lane,” + the crooked little byway off “Cross Street,” between the “Shore Road” at + the foot of the slope and the “Hill Boulevard”—formerly “Higgins's + Roost”—at the top. From the Phinney gate the view was extensive and, + for the most part, wet. The hill descended sharply, past the “Shore Road,” + over the barren fields and knolls covered with bayberry bushes and + “poverty grass,” to the yellow sand of the beach and the gray, + weather-beaten fish-houses scattered along it. Beyond was the bay, a + glimmer in the sunset light. + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Phinney, in the kitchen, was busy with the supper dishes. Her + husband, wheezing comfortably at his musical pipe, drew an ancient silver + watch from his pocket and looked at its dial. Quarter past six. Time to be + getting down to the depot and the post office. At least a dozen male + citizens of East Harniss were thinking that very thing at that very + moment. It was a community habit of long standing to see the train come in + and go after the mail. The facts that the train bore no passengers in whom + you were intimately interested, and that you expected no mail made little + difference. If you were a man of thirty or older, you went to the depot or + the “club,” just as your wife or sisters went to the sewing circle, for + sociability and mild excitement. If you were a single young man you went + to the post office for the same reason that you attended prayer meeting. + If you were a single young lady you went to the post office and prayer + meeting to furnish a reason for the young man. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Phinney, replacing his watch in his pocket, meandered to the sidewalk + and looked down the hill and along the length of the “Shore Road.” Beside + the latter highway stood a little house, painted a spotless white, its + window blinds a vivid green. In that house dwelt, and dwelt alone, Captain + Solomon Berry, Sim Phinney's particular friend. Captain Sol was the East + Harniss depot master and, from long acquaintance, Mr. Phinney knew that he + should be through supper and ready to return to the depot, by this time. + The pair usually walked thither together when the evening meal was over. + </p> + <p> + But, except for the smoke curling lazily from the kitchen chimney, there + was no sign of life about the Berry house. Either Captain Sol had already + gone, or he was not yet ready to go. So Mr. Phinney decided that waiting + was chancey, and set out alone. + </p> + <p> + He climbed Cross Street to where the “Hill Boulevard,” abiding place of + East Harniss's summer aristocracy, bisected it, and there, standing on the + corner, and consciously patronizing the spot where he so stood, was Mr. + Ogden Hapworth Williams, no less. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Williams was the village millionaire, patron, and, in a gentlemanly + way, “boomer.” His estate on the Boulevard was the finest in the county, + and he, more than any one else, was responsible for the “buying up” by + wealthy people from the city of the town's best building sites, the spots + commanding “fine marine sea views,” to quote from Abner Payne, local real + estate and insurance agent. His own estate was fine enough to be talked + about from one end of the Cape to the other and he had bought the empty + lot opposite and made it into a miniature park, with flower beds and + gravel walks, though no one but he or his might pick the flowers or tread + the walks. He had brought on a wealthy friend from New York and a cousin + from Chicago, and they, too, had bought acres on the Boulevard and erected + palatial “cottages” where once were the houses of country people. Local + cynics suggested that the sign on the East Harniss railroad station should + be changed to read “Williamsburg.” “He owns the place, body and soul,” + said they. + </p> + <p> + As Sim Phinney climbed the hill the magnate, pompous, portly, and + imposing, held up a signaling finger. “Just as if he was hailin' a horse + car,” described Simeon afterward. + </p> + <p> + “Phinney,” he said, “come here, I want to speak to you.” + </p> + <p> + The man of many trades obediently approached. + </p> + <p> + “Good evenin', Mr. Williams,” he ventured. + </p> + <p> + “Phinney,” went on the great man briskly, “I want you to give me your + figures on a house moving deal. I have bought a house on the Shore Road, + the one that used to belong to the—er—Smalleys, I believe.” + </p> + <p> + Simeon was surprised. “What, the old Smalley house?” he exclaimed. “You + don't tell me!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, it's a fine specimen—so my wife says—of the pure + Colonial, whatever that is, and I intend moving it to the Boulevard. I + want your figures for the job.” + </p> + <p> + The building mover looked puzzled. “To the Boulevard?” he said. “Why, I + didn't know there was a vacant lot on the Boulevard, Mr. Williams.” + </p> + <p> + “There isn't now, but there will be soon. I have got hold of the hundred + feet left from the old Seabury estate.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Phinney drew a long breath. “Why!” he stammered, “that's where Olive + Edwards—her that was Olive Seabury—lives, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” was the rather impatient answer. “She has been living there. But + the place was mortgaged up to the handle and—ahem—the mortgage + is mine now.” + </p> + <p> + For an instant Simeon did not reply. He was gazing, not up the Boulevard + in the direction of the “Seabury place” but across the slope of the hill + toward the home of Captain Sol Berry, the depot master. There was a + troubled look on his face. + </p> + <p> + “Well?” inquired Williams briskly, “when can you give me the figures? They + must be low, mind. No country skin games, you understand.” + </p> + <p> + “Hey?” Phinney came out of his momentary trance. “Yes, yes, Mr. Williams. + They'll be low enough. Times is kind of dull now and I'd like a movin' job + first-rate. I'll give 'em to you to-morrer. But—but Olive'll have to + move, won't she? And where's she goin'?” + </p> + <p> + “She'll have to move, sure. And the eyesore on that lot now will come + down.” + </p> + <p> + The “eyesore” was the four room building, combined dwelling and shop of + Mrs. Olive Edwards, widow of “Bill Edwards,” once a promising young man, + later town drunkard and ne'er-do-well, dead these five years, luckily for + himself and luckier—in a way—for the wife who had stuck by him + while he wasted her inheritance in a losing battle with John Barleycorn. + At his death the fine old Seabury place had dwindled to a lone hundred + feet of land, the little house, and a mortgage on both. Olive had opened a + “notion store” in her front parlor and had fought on, proudly refusing aid + and trying to earn a living. She had failed. Again Phinney stared + thoughtfully at the distant house of Captain Sol. + </p> + <p> + “But Olive,” he said, slowly. “She ain't got no folks, has she? What'll + become of her? Where'll she move to?” + </p> + <p> + “That,” said Mr. Williams, with a wave of a fat hand, “is not my business. + I am sorry for her, if she's hard up. But I can't be responsible if men + will drink up their wives' money. Look out for number one; that's + business. I sha'n't be unreasonable with her. She can stay where she is + until the new house I've bought is moved to that lot. Then she must clear + out. I've told her that. She knows all about it. Well, good-by, Phinney. I + shall expect your bid to-morrow. And, mind, don't try to get the best of + me, because you can't do it.” + </p> + <p> + He turned and strutted back up the Boulevard. Sim Phinney, pondering + deeply and very grave, continued on his way, down Cross Street to Main—naming + the village roads was another of the Williams' “improvements”—and + along that to the crossing, East Harniss's business and social center at + train times. + </p> + <p> + The station—everyone called it “deepo,” of course—was then a + small red building, old and out of date, but scrupulously neat because of + Captain Berry's rigid surveillance. Close beside it was the “Boston + Grocery, Dry Goods and General Store,” Mr. Beriah Higgins, proprietor. + Beriah was postmaster and the post office was in his store. The male + citizen of middle age or over, seeking opportunity for companionship and + chat, usually went first to the depot, sat about in the waiting room until + the train came in, superintended that function, then sojourned to the post + office until the mail was sorted, returning later, if he happened to be a + particular friend of the depot master, to sit and smoke and yarn until + Captain Sol announced that it was time to “turn in.” + </p> + <p> + When Mr. Phinney entered the little waiting room he found it already + tenanted. Captain Sol had not yet arrived, but official authority was + represented by “Issy” McKay—his full name was Issachar Ulysses Grant + McKay—a long-legged, freckled-faced, tow-headed youth of twenty, + who, as usual, was sprawled along the settee by the wall, engrossed in a + paper covered dime novel. “Issy” was a lover of certain kinds of + literature and reveled in lurid fiction. As a youngster he had, at the age + of thirteen, after a course of reading in the “Deadwood Dick Library,” + started on a pedestrian journey to the Far West, where, being armed with + home-made tomahawk and scalping knife, he contemplated extermination of + the noble red man. A wrathful pursuing parent had collared the + exterminator at the Bayport station, to the huge delight of East Harniss, + young and old. Since this adventure Issy had been famous, in a way. + </p> + <p> + He was Captain Sol Berry's assistant at the depot. Why an assistant was + needed was a much discussed question. Why Captain Sol, a retired seafaring + man with money in the bank, should care to be depot master at ten dollars + a week was another. The Captain himself said he took the place because he + wanted to do something that was “half way between a loaf and a job.” He + employed an assistant at his own expense because he “might want to stretch + the loafin' half.” And he hired Issy because—well, because “most + folks in East Harniss are alike and you can always tell about what they'll + say or do. Now Issy's different. The Lord only knows what HE'S likely to + do, and that makes him interestin' as a conundrum, to guess at. He kind of + keeps my sense of responsibility from gettin' mossy, Issy does.” + </p> + <p> + “Issy,” hailed Mr. Phinney, “has the Cap'n got here yet?” + </p> + <p> + Issy answered not. The villainous floorwalker had just proffered matrimony + or summary discharge to “Flora, the Beautiful Shop Girl,” and pending her + answer, the McKay mind had no room for trifles. + </p> + <p> + “Issy!” shouted Simeon. “I say, Is', Wake up, you foolhead! Has Cap'n Sol—” + </p> + <p> + “No, he ain't, Sim,” volunteered Ed Crocker. He and his chum, Cornelius + Rowe, were seated in two of the waiting room chairs, their feet on two + others. “He ain't got here yet. We was just talkin' about him. You've + heard about Olive Edwards, I s'pose likely, ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + Phinney nodded gloomily. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he said, “I've heard.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, it's too bad,” continued Crocker. “But, after all, it's Olive's own + fault. She'd ought to have married Sol Berry when she had the chance. What + she ever gave him the go-by for, after the years they was keepin' comp'ny, + is more'n I can understand.” + </p> + <p> + Cornelius Rowe shook his head, with an air of wisdom. Captain Sol, + himself, remarked once: “I wonder sometimes the Almighty ain't jealous of + Cornelius, he knows so much and is so responsible for the runnin' of all + creation.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted Mr. Rowe. “There's more to that business than you folks + think. Olive didn't notice Bill Edwards till Sol went off to sea and + stayed two years and over. How do you know she shook Sol? You might just + as well say he shook her. He always was stubborn as an off ox and cranky + as a windlass. I wonder how he feels now, when she's lost her last red and + is goin' to be drove out of house and home. And all on account of that + fool 'mountain and Mahomet' business.” + </p> + <p> + “WHICH?” asked Mr. Crocker. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind that, Cornelius,” put in Phinney, sharply. “Why don't you let + other folks' affairs alone? That was a secret that Olive told your sister + and you've got no right to go blabbin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, hush up, Sim! I ain't tellin' no secrets to anybody but Ed here, and + he ain't lived in East Harniss long or he'd know it already. The mountain + and Mahomet? Why, them was the last words Sol and Olive had. 'Twas Sol's + stubbornness that was most to blame. That was his one bad fault. He would + have his own way and he wouldn't change. Olive had set her heart on goin' + to Washin'ton for their weddin' tower. Sol wanted to go to Niagara. They + argued a long time, and finally Olive says, 'No, Solomon, I'm not goin' to + give in this time. I have all the others, but it's not fair and it's not + right, and no married life can be happy where one does all the + sacrificin'. If you care for me you'll do as I want now.' + </p> + <p> + “And he laughs and says, 'All right, I'll sacrifice after this, but you + and me must see Niagara.' And she was sot and he was sotter, and at last + they quarreled. He marches out of the door and says: 'Very good. When + you're ready to be sensible and change your mind, you can come to me. And + says Olive, pretty white but firm: 'No, Solomon, I'm right and you're not. + I'm afraid this time the mountain must come to Mahomet.' That ended it. He + went away and never come back, and after a long spell she give in to her + dad and married Bill Edwards. Foolish? 'Well, now, WA'N'T it!” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted Crocker. “She must have been a born gump to let a smart + man like him get away just for that.” + </p> + <p> + “There's a good many born gumps not so far from here as her house,” + interjected Phinney. “You remember that next time you look in the glass, + Ed Crocker. And—and—well, there's no better friend of Sol + Berry's on earth than I am, but, so fur as their quarrel was concerned, if + you ask me I'd have to say Olive was pretty nigh right.” + </p> + <p> + “Maybe—maybe,” declared the allwise Cornelius, “but just the same if + I was Sol Berry, and knew my old girl was likely to go to the poorhouse, + I'll bet my conscience—” + </p> + <p> + “S-ssh!” hissed Crocker, frantically. Cornelius stopped in the middle of + his sentence, whirled in his chair, and looked up. Behind him in the + doorway of the station stood Captain Sol himself. The blue cap he always + wore was set back on his head, a cigar tipped upward from the corner of + his mouth, and there was a grim look in his eye and about the smooth + shaven lips above the short, grayish-brown beard. + </p> + <p> + “Issy” sprang from his settee and jammed the paper novel into his pocket. + Ed Crocker's sunburned face turned redder yet. Sim Phinney grinned at Mr. + Rowe, who was very much embarrassed. + </p> + <p> + “Er—er—evenin', Cap'n Sol,” he stammered. “Nice, seasonable + weather, ain't it? Been a nice day.” + </p> + <p> + “Um,” grunted the depot master, knocking the ashes from his cigar. + </p> + <p> + “Just right for workin' outdoor,” continued Cornelius. + </p> + <p> + “I guess it must be. I saw your wife rakin' the yard this mornin'.” + </p> + <p> + Phinney doubled up with a chuckle. Mr. Rowe swallowed hard. “I—I + TOLD her I'd rake it myself soon's I got time,” he sputtered. + </p> + <p> + “Um. Well, I s'pose she realized your time was precious. Evenin', Sim, + glad to see you.” + </p> + <p> + He held out his hand and Phinney grasped it. + </p> + <p> + “Issy,” said Captain Sol, “you'd better get busy with the broom, hadn't + you. It's standin' over in that corner and I wouldn't wonder if it needed + exercise. Sim, the train ain't due for twenty minutes yet. That gives us + at least three quarters of an hour afore it gets here. Come outside a + spell. I want to talk to you.” + </p> + <p> + He led the way to the platform, around the corner of the station, and + seated himself on the baggage truck. That side of the building, being + furthest from the street, was out of view from the post office and + “general store.” + </p> + <p> + “What was it you wanted to talk about, Sol?” asked Simeon, sitting down + beside his friend on the truck. + </p> + <p> + The Captain smoked in silence for a moment. Then he asked a question in + return. + </p> + <p> + “Sim,” he said, “have you heard anything about Williams buying the Smalley + house? Is it true?” + </p> + <p> + Phinney nodded. “Yup,” he answered, “it's true. Williams was just talkin' + to me and I know all about his buyin' it and where it's goin'.” + </p> + <p> + He repeated the conversation with the great man. Captain Sol did not + interrupt. He smoked on, and a frown gathered and deepened as he listened. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” he said, when his friend had concluded. “Humph! Sim, do you have + any idea what—what Olive Seabury will do when she has to go?” + </p> + <p> + Phinney glanced at him. It was the first time in twenty years that he had + heard Solomon Berry mention the name of his former sweetheart. And even + now he did not call her by her married name, the name of her late husband. + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied Simeon. “No, Sol, I ain't got the least idea. Poor thing!” + </p> + <p> + Another interval. Then: “Well, Sim, find out if you can, and let me know. + And,” turning his head and speaking quietly but firmly, “don't let anybody + ELSE know I asked.” + </p> + <p> + “Course I won't, Sol, you know that. But don't it seem awful mean turnin' + her out so? I wouldn't think Mr. Williams would do such a thing.” + </p> + <p> + His companion smiled grimly; “I would,” he said. “'Business is business,' + that's his motto. That and 'Look out for number one.'” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he said somethin' to me about lookin' out for number one.” + </p> + <p> + “Did he? Humph!” The Captain's smile lost a little of its bitterness and + broadened. He seemed to be thinking and to find amusement in the process. + </p> + <p> + “What you grinnin' at?” demanded Phinney. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I was just rememberin' how he looked out for number one the first—no, + the second time I met him. I don't believe he's forgot it. Maybe that's + why he ain't quite so high and mighty to me as he is to the rest of you + fellers. Ha! ha! He tried to patronize me when I first came back here and + took this depot and I just smiled and asked him what the market price of + johnny-cake was these days. He got red clear up to the brim of his tall + hat. Humph! 'TWAS funny.” + </p> + <p> + “The market price of JOHNNY-CAKE! He must have thought you was loony.” + </p> + <p> + “No. I'm the last man he'd think was loony. You see I met him a fore he + came here to live at all.” + </p> + <p> + “You did? Where?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, over to Wellmouth. 'Twas the year afore I come back to East Harniss, + myself, after my long stretch away from it. I never intended to see the + Cape again, but I couldn't stay away somehow. I've told you that much—how + I went over to Wellmouth and boarded a spell, got sick of that, and, just + to be doin' somethin' and not for the money, bought a catboat and took out + sailin' parties from Wixon and Wingate's summer hotel.” + </p> + <p> + “And you met Mr. Williams? Well, I snum! Was he at the hotel?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not exactly. I met him sort of casual this second time.” + </p> + <p> + “SECOND time? Had you met him afore that?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't get ahead of the yarn, Sim. It happened this way: You see, I was + comin' along the road between East Wellmouth and the Center when I run + afoul of him. He was fat and shiny, and drivin' a skittish horse hitched + to a fancy buggy. When he sighted me he hove to and hailed. + </p> + <p> + “'Here you!' says he, in a voice as fat as the rest of him. 'Your name's + Berry, ain't it.' + </p> + <p> + “'Yup,' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'Methusalum Berry or Jehoshaphat Berry or Sheba Berry, or somethin' like + that? Hey?' he says. + </p> + <p> + “'Well,' says I, 'the last shot you fired comes nighest the bull's eye. + They christened me Solomon, but 'twa'n't my fault; I was young at the time + and they took advantage.' + </p> + <p> + “He grinned a kind of lopsided grin, like he had a lemon in his mouth, and + commenced to cuss the horse for tryin' to climb a pine tree. + </p> + <p> + “'I knew 'twas some Bible outrage or other,' he says. 'There's more Bible + names in this forsaken sand heap than there is Christians, a good sight. + When I meet a man with a Bible name and chin whiskers I hang on to my + watch. The feller that sets out to do me has got to have a better make up + than that, you bet your life. 'Well, see here, King Sol; can you run a + gasoline launch?' + </p> + <p> + “'Why, yes, I guess I can run 'most any of the everyday kinds,' says I, + pullin' thoughtful at my own chin whiskers. This fat man had got me + interested. He was so polite and folksy in his remarks. Didn't seem to + stand on no ceremony, as you might say. Likewise there was a kind of + familiar somethin' about his face. I knew mighty well I'd never met him + afore, and yet I seemed to have a floatin' memory of him, same as a chap + remembers the taste of the senna and salts his ma made him take when he + was little. + </p> + <p> + “'All right,' says he, sharp. 'Then you come around to my landin' + to-morrer mornin' at eight o'clock prompt and take me out in my launch to + the cod-fishin' grounds. I'll give you ten dollars to take me out there + and back.' + </p> + <p> + “'Well,' says I, 'ten dollars is a good price enough. Do I furnish—' + </p> + <p> + “'You furnish nothin' except your grub,' he interrupts. 'The launch'll be + ready and the lines and hooks and bait'll be ready. My own man was to do + the job, but he and I had a heart-to-heart talk just now and I told him + where he could go and go quick. No smart Alec gets the best of me, even if + he has got a month's contract. You run that launch and put me on the + fishin' grounds. I pay you for that and bringin' me back again. And I + furnish my own extras and you can furnish yours. I don't want any of your + Yankee bargainin'. See?' + </p> + <p> + “I saw. There wa'n't no real reason why I couldn't take the job. 'Twas + well along into September; the hotel was closed for the season; and about + all I had on my hands just then was time. + </p> + <p> + “'All right,' says I, 'it's a deal. If you'll guarantee to have your + launch ready, I—' + </p> + <p> + “'That's my business,' he says. 'It'll be ready. If it ain't you'll get + your pay just the same. To-morrer mornin' at eight o'clock. And don't you + forget and be late. Gid-dap, you blackguard!' says he to the horse. + </p> + <p> + “'Hold on, just a minute,' I hollers, runnin' after him. 'I don't want to + be curious nor nosey, you understand, but seems 's if it might help me to + be on time if I knew where your launch was goin' to be and what your name + was.' + </p> + <p> + “He pulled up then. 'Humph!' he says, 'if you don't know my name and more + about my private affairs than I do myself, you're the only one in this + county that don't. My name's Williams, and I live in what you folks call + the Lathrop place over here toward Trumet. The launch is at my landin' + down in front of the house.' + </p> + <p> + “He drove off then and I walked along thinkin'. I knew who he was now, of + course. There was consider'ble talk when the Lathrop place was rented, and + I gathered that the feller who hired it answered to the hail of Williams + and was a retired banker, sufferin' from an enlarged income and the + diseases that go along with it. He lived alone up there in the big house, + except for a cranky housekeeper and two or three servants. This was afore + he got married, Sim; his wife's tamed him a little. Then the yarns about + his temper and language would have filled a log book. + </p> + <p> + “But all this was way to one side of the mark-buoy, so fur as I was + concerned. I'd cruised with cranks afore and I thought I could stand this + one—ten dollars' worth of him, anyhow. Bluster and big talk may + scare some folks, but to me they're like Aunt Hepsy Parker's false teeth, + the further off you be from 'em the more real they look. So the next + mornin' I was up bright and early and on my way over to the Lathrop + landin'. + </p> + <p> + “The launch was there, made fast alongside the little wharf. Nice, + slick-lookin' craft she was, too, all varnish and gilt gorgeousness. I'd + liked her better if she'd carried a sail, for it's my experience that + canvas is a handy thing to have aboard in case of need; but she looked + seaworthy enough and built for speed. + </p> + <p> + “While I was standin' on the pier lookin' down at her I heard footsteps + and brisk remarks from behind the bushes on the bank, and here comes + Williams, puffin' and blowin', followed by a sulky-lookin' hired man + totin' a deckload of sweaters and ileskins, with a lunch basket on top. + Williams himself wan't carryin' anything but his temper, but he hadn't + forgot none of that. + </p> + <p> + “'Hello, Berry,' says he to me. 'You are on time, ain't you. Blessed if it + ain't a comfort to find somebody who'll do what I tell 'em. Now you,' he + says to the servant, 'put them things aboard and clear out as quick as + you've a mind to. You and I are through; understand? Don't let me find you + hangin' around the place when I get back. Cast off, Sol.' + </p> + <p> + “The man dumped the dunnage into the launch, pretty average ugly, and me + and the boss climbed aboard. I cast off. + </p> + <p> + “'Mr. Williams,' says the man, kind of pleadin', 'ain't you goin' to pay + me the rest of my month's wages?' + </p> + <p> + “Williams told him he wa'n't, and added trimmin's to make it emphatic. + </p> + <p> + “I started the engine and we moved out at a good clip. All at once that + hired man runs to the end of the wharf and calls after us. + </p> + <p> + “'All right for you, you fat-head!' he yells. 'You'll be sorry for what + you done to me.' + </p> + <p> + “I cal'late the boss would have liked to go back and lick him, but I was + hired to go a-fishin', not to watch a one-sided prize fight, and I thought + 'twas high time we started. + </p> + <p> + “The name of that launch was the Shootin' Star, and she certainly lived up + to it. 'Twas one of them slick, greasy days, with no sea worth mentionin' + and we biled along fine. We had to, because the cod ledge is a good many + mile away, 'round Sandy P'int out to sea, and, judgin' by what I'd seen of + Fatty so fur, I wa'n't hankerin' to spend more time with him than was + necessary. More'n that, there was fog signs showin'. + </p> + <p> + “'When was you figgerin' on gettin' back, Mr. Williams?' I asked him. + </p> + <p> + “'When I've caught as many fish as I want to,' he says. 'I told that + housekeeper of mine that I'd be back when I got good and ready; it might + be to-night and it might be ten days from now. “If I ain't back in a week + you can hunt me up,” I told her; “but not before. And that goes.” I've got + HER trained all right. She knows me. It's a pity if a man can't be + independent of females.' + </p> + <p> + “I knew consider'ble many men that was subjects for pity, 'cordin' to that + rule. But I wa'n't in for no week's cruise, and I told him so. He said of + course not; we'd be home that evenin'. + </p> + <p> + “The Shootin' Star kept slippin' along. 'Twas a beautiful mornin' and, + after a spell, it had its effect, even on a crippled disposition like that + banker man's. He lit up a cigar and begun to get more sociable, in his + way. Commenced to ask me questions about myself. + </p> + <p> + “By and by he says: 'Berry, I suppose you figger that it's a smart thing + to get ten dollars out of me for a trip like this, hey?' + </p> + <p> + “'Not if it's to last a week, I don't,' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'It's your lookout if it does,' he says prompt. 'You get ten for takin' + me out and back. If you ain't back on time 'tain't my fault.' + </p> + <p> + “'Unless this craft breaks down,' I says. + </p> + <p> + “''Twon't break down. I looked after that. My motto is to look out for + number one every time, and it's a mighty good motto. At any rate, it's + made my money for me.' + </p> + <p> + “He went on, preachin' about business shrewdness and how it paid, and how + mean and tricky in little deals we Rubes was, and yet we didn't appreciate + how to manage big things, till I got kind of sick of it. + </p> + <p> + “'Look here, Mr. Williams,' says I, 'you know how I make my money—what + little I do make—or you say you do. Now, if it ain't a sassy + question, how did you make yours?' + </p> + <p> + “Well, he made his by bein' shrewd and careful and always lookin' out for + number one. 'Number one' was his hobby. I gathered that the heft of his + spare change had come from dickers in stocks and bonds. + </p> + <p> + “'Humph!' says I. 'Well, speakin' of tricks and meanness, I've allers + heard tell that there was some of them things hitched to the tail of the + stock market. What makes the stock market price of—well, of wheat, + we'll say?' + </p> + <p> + “That was regulated, so he said, by the law of supply and demand. If a + feller had all the wheat there was and another chap had to have some or + starve, why, the first one had a right to gouge t'other chap's last cent + away from him afore he let it go. + </p> + <p> + “'That's legitimate,' he says. 'That's cornerin' the market. Law of supply + and demand exemplified.' + </p> + <p> + “''Cordin' to that law,' says I, 'when you was so set on fishin' to-day + and hunted me up to run your boat here—'cause I was about the only + chap who could run it and wa'n't otherwise busy—I'd ought to have + charged you twenty dollars instead of ten.' + </p> + <p> + “'Sure you had,' he says, grinnin'. 'But you weren't shrewd enough to + grasp the situation and do it. Now the deal's closed and it's too late.' + </p> + <p> + “He went on talkin' about 'pools' and deals' and such. How prices of this + stock and that was shoved up a-purpose till a lot of folks had put their + money in it and then was smashed flat so's all hands but the 'poolers' + would be what he called 'squeezed out,' and the gang would get their cash. + That was legitimate, too—'high finance,' he said. + </p> + <p> + “'But how about the poor folks that had their savin's in them stocks,' I + asks, 'and don't know high financin'? Where's the law of supply and demand + come in for them?' + </p> + <p> + “He laughed. 'They supply the suckers and the demand for money,' says he. + </p> + <p> + “By eleven we was well out toward the fishin' grounds. 'Twas the bad + season now; the big fish had struck off still further and there wa'n't + another boat in sight. The land was just a yeller and green smooch along + the sky line and the waves was runnin' bigger. The Shootin' Star was + seaworthy, though, and I wa'n't worried about her. The only thing that + troubled me was the fog, and that was pilin' up to wind'ard. I'd called + Fatty's attention to it when we fust started, but he said he didn't care a + red for fog. Well, I didn't much care nuther, for we had a compass aboard + and the engine was runnin' fine. What wind there was was blowin' offshore. + </p> + <p> + “And then, all to once, the engine STOPPED runnin'. I give the wheel a + whirl, but she only coughed, consumptive-like, and quit again. I went + for'ard to inspect, and, if you'll believe it, there wa'n't a drop of + gasoline left in the tank. The spare cans had ought to have been full, and + they was—but 'twas water they was filled with. + </p> + <p> + “'Is THIS the way you have your boat ready for me?' I remarks, sarcastic. + </p> + <p> + “'That—that man of mine told me he had everything filled,' he + stammers, lookin' scart. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes,' says I, 'and I heard him hint likewise that he was goin' to make + you sorry. I guess he's done it.' + </p> + <p> + “Well, sir! the brimstone names that Fatty called that man was somethin' + surprisin' to hear. When he'd used up all he had in stock he invented new + ones. When the praise service was over he turns to me and says: 'But what + are we goin' to do?' + </p> + <p> + “'Do?' says I. 'That's easy. We're goin' to drift.' + </p> + <p> + “And that's what we done. I tried to anchor, but we wa'n't over the ledge + and the iron wouldn't reach bottom by a mile, more or less. I rigged up a + sail out of the oar and the canvas spray shield, but there wa'n't wind + enough to give us steerageway. So we drifted and drifted, out to sea. And + by and by the fog come down and shut us in, and that fixed what little + hope I had of bein' seen by the life patrol on shore. + </p> + <p> + “The breeze died out flat about three o'clock. In one way this was a good + thing. In another it wa'n't, because we was well out in deep water, and + when the wind did come it was likely to come harder'n we needed. However, + there wa'n't nothin' to do but wait and hope for the best, as the feller + said when his wife's mother was sick. + </p> + <p> + “It was gettin' pretty well along toward the edge of the evenin' when I + smelt the wind a-comin'. It came in puffs at fust, and every puff was + healthier than the one previous. Inside of ten minutes it was blowin' + hard, and the seas were beginnin' to kick up. I got up my jury rig—the + oar and the spray shield—and took the helm. There wa'n't nothin' to + do but run afore it, and the land knows where we would fetch up. At any + rate, if the compass was right, we was drivin' back into the bay again, + for the wind had hauled clear around. + </p> + <p> + “The Shootin' Star jumped and sloshed. Fatty had on all the ileskins and + sweaters, but he was shakin' like a custard pie. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, oh, heavens!' he chatters. 'What will we do? Will we drown?' + </p> + <p> + “'Don't know,' says I, tuggin' at the wheel and tryin' to sight the + compass. 'You've got the best chance of the two of us, if it's true that + fat floats.' + </p> + <p> + “I thought that might cheer him up some, but it didn't. A big wave heeled + us over then and a keg or two of salt water poured over the gunwale. He + give a yell and jumped up. + </p> + <p> + “'My Lord!' he screams. 'We're sinkin'. Help! help!' + </p> + <p> + “'Set down!' I roared. 'Thought you knew how to act in a boat. Set down! + d'you hear me? SET DOWN AND SET STILL!' + </p> + <p> + “He set. Likewise he shivered and groaned. It got darker all the time and + the wind freshened every minute. I expected to see that jury mast go by + the board at any time. Lucky for us it held. + </p> + <p> + “No use tellin' about the next couple of hours. 'Cordin' to my reckonin' + they was years and we'd ought to have sailed plumb through the broadside + of the Cape, and be makin' a quick run for Africy. But at last we got into + smoother water, and then, right acrost our bows, showed up a white strip. + The fog had pretty well blowed clear and I could see it. + </p> + <p> + “'Land, ho!' I yells. 'Stand by! WE'RE goin' to bump.'” + </p> + <p> + Captain Sol stopped short and listened. Mr. Phinney grasped his arm. + </p> + <p> + “For the dear land sakes, Sol,” he exclaimed, “don't leave me hangin' in + them breakers no longer'n you can help! Heave ahead! DID you bump?” + </p> + <p> + The depot master chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “DID we?” he repeated. “Well, I'll tell you that by and by. Here comes the + train and I better take charge of the ship. Anything so responsible as + seein' the cars come in without me to help would give Issy the jumpin' + heart disease.” + </p> + <p> + He sprang from the truck and hastened toward the door of the station. + Phinney, rising to follow him, saw, over the dark green of the swamp + cedars at the head of the track, an advancing column of smoke. A whistle + sounded. The train was coming in. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0002" id="link2HCH0002"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER II + </h2> + <h3> + SUPPLY AND DEMAND + </h3> + <p> + And now life in East Harniss became temporarily fevered. Issy McKay dashed + out of the station and rushed importantly up and down the platform. Ed + Crocker and Cornelius Rowe emerged and draped themselves in statuesque + attitudes against the side of the building. Obed Gott came hurrying from + his paint and oil shop, which was next to the “general store.” Mr. + Higgins, proprietor of the latter, sauntered easily across to receive, in + his official capacity as postmaster, the mail bag. Ten or more citizens, + of both sexes, and of various ages, gathered in groups to inspect and + supervise. + </p> + <p> + The locomotive pulled its string of cars, a “baggage,” a “smoker,” and two + “passengers,” alongside the platform. The sliding door of the baggage car + was pushed back and the baggage master appeared in the opening. “Hi! + Cap'n!” he shouted. “Hi, Cap'n Sol! Here's some express for you.” + </p> + <p> + But unfortunately the Captain was in conversation with the conductor at + the other end of the train. Issy, willing and officious, sprang forward. + “I'll take it, Bill,” he volunteered. “Here, give it to me.” + </p> + <p> + The baggage master handed down the package, a good sized one marked + “Glass. With Care.” Issy received it, clutched it to his bosom, turned and + saw Gertie Higgins, pretty daughter of Beriah Higgins, stepping from the + first car to the platform. Gertie had been staying with an aunt in Trumet + and was now returning home for a day or two. + </p> + <p> + Issy stopped short and gazed at her. He saw her meet and kiss her father, + and the sight roused turbulent emotions in his bosom. He saw her nod and + smile at acquaintances whom she passed. She approached, noticed him, and—oh, + rapture!—said laughingly, “Hello, Is.” Before he could recover his + senses and remember to do more than grin she had disappeared around the + corner of the station. Therefore he did not see the young man who stepped + forward to shake her hand and whisper in her ear. This young man was Sam + Bartlett, and, as a “city dude,” Issy loathed and hated him. + </p> + <p> + No, Issy did not see the hurried and brief meeting between Bartlett and + Gertie Higgins, but he had seen enough to cause forgetfulness of mundane + things. For an instant he stared after the vanished vision. Then he + stepped blindly forward, tripped over something—“his off hind leg,” + so Captain Sol afterwards vowed—and fell sprawling, the express + package beneath him. + </p> + <p> + The crash of glass reached the ears of the depot master. He broke away + from the conductor and ran toward his prostrate “assistant.” Pushing aside + the delighted and uproarious bystanders, he forcibly helped the young man + to rise. + </p> + <p> + “What in time?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + Issy agonizingly held the package to his ear and shook it. + </p> + <p> + “I—I'm afraid somethin's cracked,” he faltered. + </p> + <p> + The crowd set up a whoop. Ed Crocker appeared to be in danger of + strangling. + </p> + <p> + “Cracked!” repeated Captain Sol. “Cracked!” he smiled, in spite of + himself. “Yes, somethin's cracked. It's that head of yours, Issy. Here, + let's see!” + </p> + <p> + He snatched the package from the McKay hands and inspected it. + </p> + <p> + “Smashed to thunder!” he declared. “Who's the lucky one it belongs to? + Humph!” He read the inscription aloud, “Major Cuthbertson S. Hardee. The + Major, hey! . . . Well, Is, you take the remains inside and you and I'll + hold services over it later.” + </p> + <p> + “I—I didn't go to do it,” protested the frightened Issy. + </p> + <p> + “Course you didn't. If you had you wouldn't. You're like the feller in + Scriptur', you leave undone the things you ought to do and do them that—All + right, Jim! Let her go! Cast off!” + </p> + <p> + The conductor waved his hand, the engine puffed, the bell rang, and the + train moved onward. For another twelve hours East Harniss was left + marooned by the outside world. + </p> + <p> + Beriah Higgins and the mail bag were already in the post office. Thither + went the crowd to await the sorting and ultimate distribution. A short, + fat little man lingered and, walking up to the depot master, extended his + hand. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Sol!” he said, smiling. “Thought I'd stop long enough to say + 'Howdy,' anyhow.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Bailey Stitt!” cried the Captain. “How are you? Glad to see you. + Thought you was down to South Orham, takin' out seasick parties for the + Ocean House, same kind of a job I used to have in Wellmouth.” + </p> + <p> + “I am,” replied Captain Stitt. “That is, I was. Just now I've run over + here to see about contractin' for a supply of clams and quahaugs for our + boarders. You never see such a gang to eat as them summer folks, in your + life. Barzilla Wingate, he says the same about his crowd. He's comin' on + the mornin' train from Wellmouth.” + </p> + <p> + “You don't tell me. I ain't seen Barzilla for a long spell. Where you + stoppin'? Come up to the house, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + “Can't. I'm goin' to put up over to Obed Gott's. His sister, Polena Ginn, + is a relation of mine by marriage. So long! Obed's gone on ahead to tell + Polena to put the kettle on. Maybe Obed and I'll be back again after I've + had supper.” + </p> + <p> + “Do. I'll be round here for two or three hours yet.” + </p> + <p> + He entered the depot. Except the forlorn Issy, who sat in a corner, + holding the express package in his lap, Simeon Phinney was the only person + in the waiting room. + </p> + <p> + “Come on now, Sol!” pleaded Sim. “I want to hear the rest of that about + you and Williams. You left off in the most ticklish place possible, out of + spite, I do believe. I'm hangin' on to that boat in the breakers until I + declare I believe I'm catchin' cold just from imagination.” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute, Sim,” said the depot master. Then he turned to his + assistant. + </p> + <p> + “Issy,” he said, “this is about the nineteenth time you've done just this + sort of thing. You're no earthly use and I ought to give you your + clearance papers. But I can't, you're too—well—ornamental. + You've got to be punished somehow and I guess the best way will be to send + you right up to Major Hardee's and let you give him the remnants. He'll + want to know how it happened, and you tell him the truth. The TRUTH, + understand? If you invent any fairy tales out of those novels of yours + I'll know it by and by and—well, YOU'LL know I know. No remarks, + please. Git!” + </p> + <p> + Issy hesitated, seemed about to speak, thought better of it, took up + package and cap, and “got.” + </p> + <p> + “Let's see,” said the Captain, sitting down in one of the station chairs + and lighting a fresh cigar; “where was Williams and I in that yarn of + mine? Oh, yes, I could see land and cal'lated we was goin' to bump. Well, + we did. Steerin' anyways but dead ahead was out of the question, and all I + could do was set my teeth and trust in my bein' a member of the church. + The Shootin' Star hit that beach like she was the real article. Overboard + went oar and canvas and grub pails, and everything else that wa'n't nailed + down, includin' Fatty and me. I grabbed him by the collar and wallowed + ashore. + </p> + <p> + “'Awk! hawk!' he gasps, chokin', 'I'm drownded.' + </p> + <p> + “I let him BE drownded, for the minute. I had the launch to think of, and + somehow or 'nother I got hold of her rodin' and hauled the anchor up above + tide mark. Then I attended to my passenger. + </p> + <p> + “'Where are we?' he asks. + </p> + <p> + “I looked around. Close by was nothin' but beach-grass and seaweed and + sand. A little ways off was a clump of scrub pines and bayberry bushes + that looked sort of familiar. And back of them was a little board shanty + that looked more familiar still. I rubbed the salt out of my eyes. + </p> + <p> + “'WELL!' says I. 'I swan to man!' + </p> + <p> + “'What is it?' he says. 'Do you know where we are? Whose house is that?' + </p> + <p> + “I looked hard at the shanty. + </p> + <p> + “'Humph!' I grunted. 'I do declare! Talk about a feller's comin' back to + his own. Whose shanty is that? Well, it's mine, if you want to know. The + power that looks out for the lame and the lazy has hove us ashore on + Woodchuck Island, and that's a piece of real estate I own.' + </p> + <p> + “It sounds crazy enough, that's a fact; but it was true. Woodchuck Island + is a little mite of a sand heap off in the bay, two mile from shore and + ten from the nighest town. I'd bought it and put up a shanty for a gunnin' + shack; took city gunners down there, once in a while, the fall before. + That summer I'd leased it to a friend of mine, name of Darius Baker, who + used it while he was lobsterin'. The gale had driven us straight in from + sea, 'way past Sandy P'int and on to the island. 'Twas like hittin' a nail + head in a board fence, but we'd done it. Shows what Providence can do when + it sets out. + </p> + <p> + “I explained some of this to Williams as we waded through the sand to the + shanty. + </p> + <p> + “'But is this Baker chap here now?' he asks. + </p> + <p> + “'I'm afraid not,' says I. 'The lobster season's about over, and he was + goin' South on a yacht this week. Still, he wa'n't to go till Saturday and + perhaps—' + </p> + <p> + “But the shanty was empty when we got there. I fumbled around in the tin + matchbox and lit the kerosene lamp in the bracket on the wall. Then I + turned to Williams. + </p> + <p> + “'Well,' says I, 'we're lucky for once in—' + </p> + <p> + “Then I stopped. When he went overboard the water had washed off his hat. + Likewise it had washed off his long black hair—which was a wig—and + his head was all round and shiny and bald, like a gull's egg out in a rain + storm.” + </p> + <p> + “I knew he wore a wig,” interrupted Phinney. + </p> + <p> + “Of course you do. Everybody does now. But he wa'n't such a prophet in + Israel then as he's come to be since, and folks wa'n't acquainted with his + personal beauties. + </p> + <p> + “'What are you starin' at?' he asks. + </p> + <p> + “I fetched a long breath. 'Nothin',' says I. 'Nothin'.' + </p> + <p> + “But for the rest of that next ha'f hour I went around in a kind of daze, + as if MY wig had gone and part of my head with it. When a feller has been + doin' a puzzle it kind of satisfies him to find out the answer. And I'd + done my puzzle. + </p> + <p> + “I knew where I'd met Mr. Williams afore.” + </p> + <p> + “You did?” cried Simeon. + </p> + <p> + “Um-hm. Wait a while. Well, Fatty went to bed, in one of the hay bunks, + pretty soon after that. He stripped to his underclothes and turned in + under the patchwork comforters. He was too beat out to want any supper, + even if there'd been any in sight. I built a fire in the rusty cook stove + and dried his duds and mine. Then I set down in the busted chair and begun + to think. After a spell I got up and took account of stock, as you might + say, of the eatables in the shanty. Darius had carted off his own grub and + what there was on hand was mine, left over from the gunnin' season—a + hunk of salt pork in the pickle tub, some corn meal in a tin pail, some + musty white flour in another pail, a little coffee, a little sugar and + salt, and a can of condensed milk. I took these things out of the locker + they was in, looked 'em over, put 'em back again and sprung the padlock. + Then I put the key into my pocket and went back to my chair to do some + more thinkin'. + </p> + <p> + “Next mornin' I was up early and when the banker turned out I was fryin' a + couple of slices of the pork and had some coffee b'ilin'. Likewise there + was a pan of johnnycake in the oven. The wind had gone down consider'ble, + but 'twas foggy and thick again, which was a pleasin' state of things for + yours truly. + </p> + <p> + “Williams smelt the cookin' almost afore he got his eyes open. + </p> + <p> + “'Hurry up with that breakfast,' he says to me. 'I'm hungry as a wolf.' + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say nothin' then; just went ahead with my cookin'. He got into + his clothes and went outdoor. Pretty soon he comes back, cussin' the + weather. + </p> + <p> + “'See here, Mr. Williams,' says I, 'how about them orders to your + housekeeper? Are they straight? Won't she have you hunted up for a week?' + </p> + <p> + “He colored pretty red, but from what he said I made out that she + wouldn't. I gathered that him and the old lady wa'n't real chummy. She + give him his grub and her services, and he give her the Old Harry and her + wages. She wouldn't hunt for him, not until she was ordered to. She'd be + only too glad to have him out of the way. + </p> + <p> + “'Humph!' says I. 'Then I cal'late we'll enjoy the scenery on this garden + spot of creation until the week's up.' + </p> + <p> + “'What do you mean?' says he. + </p> + <p> + “'Well,' I says, 'the launch is out of commission, unless it should rain + gasoline, and at this time of year there ain't likely to be a boat within + hailin' distance of this island; 'specially if the weather holds bad.' + </p> + <p> + “He swore a blue streak, payin' partic'lar attention to the housekeeper + for her general stupidness and to me because I'd got him, so he said, into + this scrape. I didn't say nothin'; set the table, with one plate and one + cup and sasser and knife and fork, hauled up a chair and set down to my + breakfast. He hauled up a box and set down, too. + </p> + <p> + “'Pass me that corn bread,' says he. 'And why didn't you fry more pork?' + </p> + <p> + “He was reachin' out for the johnnycake, but I pulled it out of his way. + </p> + <p> + “'Wait a minute, Mr. Williams,' says I. 'While you was snoozin' last night + I made out a kind of manifest of the vittles aboard this shanty. 'Cordin' + to my figgerin' here's scursely enough to last one husky man a week, let + along two husky ones. I paid consider'ble attention to your preachin' + yesterday and the text seemed to be to look out for number one. Now in + this case I'm the one and I've got to look out for myself. This is my + shanty, my island, and my grub. So please keep your hands off that + johnnycake.' + </p> + <p> + “For a minute or so he set still and stared at me. Didn't seem to sense + the situation, as you might say. Then the red biled up in his face and + over his bald head like a Fundy tide. + </p> + <p> + “'Why, you dummed villain!' he shouts. 'Do you mean to starve me?' + </p> + <p> + “'You won't starve in a week,' says I, helpin' myself to pork. 'A feller + named Tanner, that I read about years ago, lived for forty days on cold + water and nothin' else. There's the pump right over in the corner. It's my + pump, but I'll stretch a p'int and not charge for it this time.' + </p> + <p> + “'You—you—' he stammers, shakin' all over, he was so mad. + 'Didn't I hire you—' + </p> + <p> + “'You hired me to take you out to the fishin' grounds and back, provided + the launch was made ready by YOU. It wa'n't ready, so THAT contract's + busted. And you was to furnish your extrys and I was to furnish mine. Here + they be and I need 'em. It's as legitimate a deal as ever I see; perfect + case of supply and demand—supply for one and demand for two. As I + said afore, I'm the one.' + </p> + <p> + “'By thunder!' he growls, standin' up, 'I'll show you—' + </p> + <p> + “I stood up, too. He was fat and flabby and I was thin and wiry. We looked + each other over. + </p> + <p> + “'I wouldn't,' says I. 'You're under the doctor's care, you know.' + </p> + <p> + “So he set down again, not havin' strength even to swear, and watched me + eat my breakfast. And I ate it slow. + </p> + <p> + “'Say,' he says, finally, 'you think you're mighty smart, don't you. Well, + I'm It, I guess, for this time. I suppose you'll have no objection to + SELLIN' me a breakfast?' + </p> + <p> + “'No—o,' says I, 'not a mite of objection. I'll sell you a couple of + slices of pork for five dollars a slice and—' + </p> + <p> + “'FIVE DOLLARS a—!' His mouth dropped open like a main hatch. + </p> + <p> + “'Sartin,' I says. 'And two slabs of johnnycake at five dollars a slab. + And a cup of coffee at five dollars a cup. And—' + </p> + <p> + “'You're crazy!' he sputters, jumpin' up. + </p> + <p> + “'Not much, I ain't. I've been settin' at your feet larnin' high finance, + that's all. You don't seem to be onto the real inwardness of this deal. + I've got the grub market cornered, that's all. The market price of + necessaries is five dollars each now; it's likely to rise at any time, but + now it's five.' + </p> + <p> + “He looked at me steady for at least two more minutes. Then he got up and + banged out of that shanty. A little later I see him down at the end of the + sand spit starin' out into the fog; lookin' for a sail, I presume likely. + </p> + <p> + “I finished my breakfast and washed up the dishes. He come in by and by. + He hadn't had no dinner nor supper, you see, and the salt air gives most + folks an almighty appetite. + </p> + <p> + “'Say,' he says, 'I've been thinkin'. It's usual in the stock and + provision market to deal on a margin. Suppose I pay you a one per cent + margin now and—' + </p> + <p> + “'All right,' says I, cheerful. 'Then I'll give you a slip of paper sayin' + that you've bought such and such slices of pork and hunks of johnnycake + and I'm carryin' 'em for you on a margin. Of course there ain't no + delivery of the goods now because—' + </p> + <p> + “'Humph!' he interrupts, sour. 'You seem to know more'n I thought you did. + Now are you goin' to be decent and make me a fair price or ain't you?' + </p> + <p> + “'Can't sell under the latest quotations,' says I. 'That's five now; and + spot cash.' + </p> + <p> + “'But hang it all!' he says, 'I haven't got money enough with me. Think I + carry a national bank around in my clothes?' + </p> + <p> + “'You carry a Wellmouth Bank check book,' says I, 'because I see it in + your jacket pocket last night when I was dryin' your duds. I'll take a + check.' + </p> + <p> + “He started to say somethin' and then stopped. After a spell he seemed to + give in all to once. + </p> + <p> + “'Very good,' he says. 'You get my breakfast ready and I'll make out the + check.' + </p> + <p> + “That breakfast cost him twenty-five dollars; thirty really, because he + added another five for an extry cup of coffee. I told him to make the + check payable to 'Bearer,' as 'twas quicker to write than 'Solomon.' + </p> + <p> + “He had two more meals that day and at bedtime I had his checks amountin' + to ninety-five dollars. The fog stayed with us all the time and nobody + come to pick us up. And the next mornin's outlook was just as bad, bein' a + drizzlin' rain and a high wind. The mainland beach was in sight but that's + all except salt water and rain. + </p> + <p> + “He was surprisin'ly cheerful all that day, eatin' like a horse and givin' + up his meal checks without a whimper. If things had been different from + what they was I'd have felt like a mean sneak thief. BEIN' as they was, I + counted up the hundred and ten I'd made that day without a pinch of + conscience. + </p> + <p> + “This was a Wednesday. On Thursday, the third day of our Robinson Crusoe + business, the weather was still thick, though there was signs of clearin'. + Fatty come to me after breakfast—which cost him thirty-five, + payable, as usual, to 'Bearer'—with almost a grin on his big face. + </p> + <p> + “'Berry,' he says, 'I owe you an apology. I thought you was a green Rube, + like the rest down here, but you're as sharp as they make 'em. I ain't the + man to squeal when I get let in on a bad deal, and the chap who can work + me for a sucker is entitled to all he can make. But this pay-as-you-go + business is too slow and troublesome. What'll you take for the rest of the + grub in the locker there, spot cash? Be white, and make a fair price.' + </p> + <p> + “I'd been expectin' somethin' like this, and I was ready for him. + </p> + <p> + “'Two hundred and sixty-five dollars,' says I, prompt. + </p> + <p> + “He done a little figgerin'. 'Well, allowin' that I have to put up on this + heap of desolation for the better part of four days more, that's cheap, + accordin' to your former rates,' he says. 'I'll go you. But why not make + it two fifty, even?' + </p> + <p> + “'Two hundred and sixty-five's my price,' says I. So he handed over + another 'Bearer' check, and his board bill was paid for a week. + </p> + <p> + “Friday was a fine day, clear as a bell. Me and Williams had a real + picnicky, sociable time. Livin' outdoor this way had made him forget his + diseases and the doctor, and he showed signs of bein' ha'fway decent. We + loafed around and talked and dug clams to help out the pork—that is, + I dug 'em and Fatty superintended. We see no less'n three sailin' craft go + by down the bay and tried our best to signal 'em, but they didn't pay + attention—thought we was gunners or somethin', I presume likely. + </p> + <p> + “At breakfast on Saturday, Williams begun to ask questions again. + </p> + <p> + “'Sol,' says he, 'it surprised me to find that you knew what a “margin” + was. You didn't get that from anything I said. Where did you get it?' + </p> + <p> + “I leaned back on my box seat. + </p> + <p> + “'Mr. Williams,' says I, 'I cal'late I'll tell you a little story, if you + want to hear it. 'Tain't much of a yarn, as yarns go, but maybe it'll + interest you. The start of it goes back to consider'ble many year ago, + when I was poorer'n I be now, and a mighty sight younger. At that time me + and another feller, a partner of mine, had a fish weir out in the bay + here. The mackerel struck in and we done well, unusual well. At the end of + the season, not countin' what we'd spent for livin' and expenses, we had a + balance owin' us at our fish dealer's up to Boston of five hundred dollars—two + fifty apiece. My partner was goin' to be married in the spring and was + cal'latin' to use his share to buy furniture for the new house with. So we + decided we'd take a trip up to Boston and collect the money, stick it into + some savin's bank where 'twould draw interest until spring and then haul + it out and use it. 'Twas about every cent we had in the world. + </p> + <p> + “'So to Boston we went, collected our money, got the address of a safe + bank and started out to find it. But on the way my partner's hat blowed + off and the bank address, which was on a slip of paper inside of it, got + lost. So we see a sign on a buildin', along with a lot of others, that + kind of suggested bankin', and so we stepped into the buildin' and went + upstairs to ask the way again. + </p> + <p> + “'The place wa'n't very big, but 'twas fixed up fancy and there was a kind + of blackboard along the end of the room where a boy was markin' up figgers + in chalk. A nice, smilin' lookin' man met us and, when we told him what we + wanted, he asked us to set down. Then, afore we knowed it almost, we'd + told him the whole story—about the five hundred and all. The feller + said to hold on a spell and he'd go along with us and show us where the + savin's bank was himself. + </p> + <p> + “'So we waited and all the time the figgers kept goin' up on the board, + under signs of “Pork” and “Wheat” and “Cotton” and such, and we'd hear how + so and so's account was makin' a thousand a day, and the like of that. + After a while the nice man, who it turned out was one of the bosses of the + concern, told us what it meant. Seemed there was a big “rise” in the + market and them that bought now was bound to get rich quick. Consequent we + said we wished we could buy and get rich, too. And the smilin' chap says, + “Let's go have some lunch.”' + </p> + <p> + “Williams laughed. 'Ho, ho!' says he. 'Expensive lunch, was it?' + </p> + <p> + “'Most extravagant meal of vittles ever I got away with,' I says. 'Cost me + and my partner two hundred and fifty apiece, that lunch did. We stayed in + Boston two days, and on the afternoon of the second day we was on our way + back totin' a couple of neat but expensive slips of paper signifyin' that + we'd bought December and May wheat on a one per cent margin. We was a + hundred ahead already, 'cordin' to the blackboard, and was figgerin' what + sort of palaces we'd build when we cashed in.' + </p> + <p> + “'Ain't no use preachin' a long sermon over the remains. 'Twas a simple + funeral and nobody sent flowers. Inside of a month we was cleaned out and + the wheat place had gone out of business—failed, busted, you + understand. Our fish dealer friend asked some questions, and found out the + shebang wa'n't a real stock dealer's at all. 'Twas what they call a + “bucket shop,” and we'd bought nothin' but air, and paid a commission for + buyin' it. And the smilin', nice man that run the swindle had been hangin' + on the edge of bust for a long while and knowed 'twas comin'. Our five + hundred had helped pay his way to a healthier climate, that's all.' + </p> + <p> + “'Hold on a minute,' says Fatty, lookin' more interested. 'What was the + name of the firm that took you greenhorns in?' + </p> + <p> + “''Twas the Empire Bond, Stock and Grain Exchange,' says I. 'And 'twas on + Derbyshire Street.' + </p> + <p> + “He give a little jump. Then he says, slow, Hu-u-m! I—see.' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes,' says I. 'I thought you would. You had a mustache then and your + name was diff'rent, but you seemed familiar just the same. When your false + hair got washed off I knew you right away.' + </p> + <p> + “He took out his pocket pen and his check book and done a little + figgerin'. + </p> + <p> + “'Humph!' he says, again. 'You lost five hundred and I've paid you five + hundred and five. What's the five for?' + </p> + <p> + “'That's my commission on the sales,' I says. + </p> + <p> + “And just then comes a hail from outside the shanty. Out we bolted and + there was Sam Davis, just steppin' ashore from his power boat. Williams's + housekeeper had strained a p'int and had shaded her orders by a couple of + days. + </p> + <p> + “Williams and Sam started for home right off. I followed in the Shootin' + Star, havin' borrered gasoline enough for the run. I reached the dock ha'f + an hour after they did, and there was Fatty waitin' for me. + </p> + <p> + “'Berry,' says he, 'I've got a word or two to say to you. I ain't kickin' + at your givin' me tit for tat, or tryin' to. Turn about's fair play, if + you can call the turn. But it's against my principles to allow anybody to + beat me on a business deal. Do you suppose,' he says, 'that I'd have paid + your robber's prices without a word if I hadn't had somethin' up my + sleeve? Why, man,' says he, 'I gave you my CHECKS, not cash. And I've just + telephoned to the Wellmouth Bank to stop payment on those checks. They're + no earthly use to you; see? There's one or two things about high finance + that you don't know even yet. Ho, ho!' + </p> + <p> + “And he rocked back and forth on his heels and laughed. + </p> + <p> + “I held up my hand. 'Wait a jiffy, Mr. Williams,' says I. 'I guess these + checks are all right. When we fust landed on Woodchuck, I judged by the + looks of the shanty that Baker hadn't left it for good. I cal'lated he'd + be back. And sure enough he come back, in his catboat, on Thursday + evenin', after you'd turned in. Them checks was payable to “Bearer,” you + remember, so I give 'em to him. He was to cash 'em in the fust thing + Friday mornin', and I guess you'll find he's done it.'” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I swan to MAN!” interrupted the astonished and delighted Phinney. + “So you had him after all! And I was scart you'd lost every cent.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Sol chuckled. “Yes,” he went on, “I had him, and his eyes and + mouth opened together. + </p> + <p> + “'WHAT?' he bellers. 'Do you mean to say that a boat stopped at that + dummed island and DIDN'T TAKE US OFF?' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh,' says I, 'Darius didn't feel called on to take you off, not after I + told him who you was. You see, Mr. Williams,' I says, 'Darius Baker was my + partner in that wheat speculation I was tellin' you about.'” + </p> + <p> + The Captain drew a long breath and re-lit his cigar, which had gone out. + His friend pounded the settee ecstatically. + </p> + <p> + “There!” he cried. “I knew the name 'Darius Baker' wa'n't so strange to + me. When was you and him in partners, Sol?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, 'way back in the old days, afore I went to sea at all, and afore + mother died. You wouldn't remember much about it. Mother and I was livin' + in Trumet then and our house here was shut up. I was only a kid, or not + much more, and Williams was young, too.” + </p> + <p> + “And that's the way he made his money! HIM! Why, he's the most respected + man in this neighborhood, and goes to church, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Well, if you make money ENOUGH you can always be respected—by + some kinds of people—and find some church that'll take you in. Ain't + that so, Bailey?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Stitt and his cousin, Obed Gott, the paint dealer, were standing + in the doorway of the station. They now entered. + </p> + <p> + “I guess it's so,” replied Stitt, pulling up a chair, “though I don't know + what you was talkin' about. However, it's a pretty average safe bet that + what you say is so, Sol, 'most any time. What's the special 'so,' this + time?” + </p> + <p> + “We was talkin' about Mr. Williams,” began Phinney. + </p> + <p> + “The Grand Panjandrum of East Harniss,” broke in the depot master. “East + Harniss is blessed with a great man, Bailey, and, like consider'ble many + blessin's he ain't entirely unmixed.” + </p> + <p> + Obed and Simeon looked puzzled, but Captain Stitt bounced in his chair + like a good-natured rubber ball. “Ho! ho!” he chuckled, “you don't + surprise me, Sol. We had a great man over to South Orham three years ago + and he begun by blessin's and ended with—with t'other thing. Ho! + ho!” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” demanded Sim. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I mean Stingy Gabe. You've heard of Stingy Gabe, ain't you?” + </p> + <p> + “I guess we've all heard somethin' about him,” laughed Captain Sol; “but + we're willin' to hear more. He was a reformer, wa'n't he?” + </p> + <p> + “He sartin was! Ho! ho!” + </p> + <p> + “For the land sakes, tell it, Bailey,” demanded Mr. Gott impatiently. + “Don't sit there bouncin' and gurglin' and gettin' purple in the face. + Tell it, or you'll bust tryin' to keep it in.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, it's a great, long—” began Captain Bailey protestingly. + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” urged Phinney. “We've got more time than anything else, the most + of us. Who was this Stingy Gabe?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” urged Gott, “and what did he reform?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Stitt held up a compelling hand. “It's all of a piece,” he + interrupted. “It takes in everything, like an eatin'-house stew. And, as + usual in them cases, the feller that ordered it didn't know what was + comin' to him. + </p> + <p> + “Stingy Gabe was that feller. His Sunday name was Gabriel Atkinson Holway, + and his dad used to peddle fish from Orham to Denboro and back. The old + man was christened Gabriel, likewise. He owed 'most everybody, and, + besides, was so mean that he kept the scales and trimmin's of the fish he + sold to make chowder for himself and family. All hands called him 'Stingy + Gabe,' and the boy inherited the name along with the fifteen hundred + dollars that the old man left when he died. He cleared out—young + Gabe did—soon as the will was settled and afore the outstandin' + debts was, and nobody in this latitude see hide nor hair of him till three + years ago this comin' spring. + </p> + <p> + “Then, lo and behold you! he drops off the parlor car at the Orham station + and cruises down to South Orham, bald-headed and bay-windowed, sufferin' + from pomp and prosperity. Seems he'd been spendin' his life cornerin' + copper out West and then copperin' the corners in Wall Street. The folks + in his State couldn't put him in jail, so they sent him to Congress. Now, + as the Honorable Atkinson Holway, he'd come back to the Cape to rest his + wrist, which had writer's cramp from signin' stock certificates, and to + ease his eyes with a sight of the dear old home of his boyhood. + </p> + <p> + “Bill Nickerson comes postin' down to me with the news. + </p> + <p> + “'Bailey,' says he, 'what do you think's happened? Stingy Gabe's struck + the town.' + </p> + <p> + “'For how much?' I asks, anxious. 'Don't let him have it, whatever 'tis.' + </p> + <p> + “Then he went on to explain. Gabe was rich as all get out, and 'twas his + intention to buy back his old man's house and fix it up for a summer home. + He was delighted to find how little change there was in South Orham. + </p> + <p> + “'No matter if 'tain't but fifteen cents he'll get it, if the s'lectmen + don't watch him,' I says; and the bills, too. I know HIS tribe.' + </p> + <p> + “'You don't understand,' says Nickerson. 'He ain't no thief. He's rich, I + tell you, and he's cal'latin' to do the town good.' + </p> + <p> + “'Course he is,' I says. 'It runs in the family. His dad done it good, too—good + as 'twas ever done, I guess.' + </p> + <p> + “But next day Gabe himself happens along, and I see right off that I'd + made a mistake in my reckonin'. The Honorable Atkinson Holway wa'n't + figgerin' to borrow nothin'. When a chap has been skinnin' halibut, + minnows are too small for him to bother with. Gabe was full of fried clams + and philanthropy. + </p> + <p> + “'By Jove! Stitt,' he says, 'livin' here has been the dream of my life.' + </p> + <p> + “'You'll be glad to wake up, won't you?' says I. 'I wish I could.' + </p> + <p> + “'I tell you,' he says, 'this little old village is all right! All it + needs is a public-spirited resident to help it along. I propose to be the + P. S. R.' + </p> + <p> + “And on that program he started right in. Fust off he bought his dad's old + place, built it over into the eight-sided palace that's there now, fetched + down a small army of servants skippered by an old housekeeper, and + commenced to live simple but complicated. Then, havin' provided the + needful charity for himself, he's ready to scatter manna for the starvin' + native. + </p> + <p> + “He had a dozen schemes laid out. One was to build a free but expensive + library; another was to pave the main road with brick; third was to give + stained-glass windows and velvet cushions to the meetin' house, so's the + congregation could sleep comfortable in a subdued light. The stained-glass + idee put him in close touch with the minister, Reverend Edwin Fisher, and + the minister suggested the men's club. And he took to that men's club + scheme like an old maid to strong tea; the rest of the improvements went + into dry dock to refit while Admiral Gabe got his men's club off the ways. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas the billiard room that made the minister hanker for a men's club. + That billiard room was the worry of his life. Old man Jotham Gale run it + and had run it sence the Concord fight, in a way of speakin'. You remember + his sign, maybe: 'Jotham W. Gale. Billiard, Pool, and Sipio Saloon. Cigars + and Tobacco. Tonics and Pipes. Minors under Ten Years of Age not + Admitted.' Jotham's customers was called, by the outsiders, 'the + billiard-room gang.' + </p> + <p> + “The billiard room gang wa'n't the best folks in town, I'll own right up + to that. Still, they wa'n't so turrible wicked. Jotham never sold rum, and + he'd never allow no rows in his place. But, just the same, his saloon was + reckoned a bad influence. Young men hadn't ought to go there—most of + us said that. If there was a nicer place TO go, argues the minister, + 'twould help the moral tone of the community consider'ble. 'Why not,' says + he to Stingy Gabe, 'start a free club for men that'll make the billiard + room look like the tail boat in a race?' And says Gabe: 'Bully! I'll do + it.'” + </p> + <p> + Captain Stitt paused long enough to enjoy a chuckle all by himself. Before + he had quite finished his laugh, slow and reluctant steps were heard on + the back platform and Issy appeared on the threshold. He was without the + package, but did not look happy. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Is,” inquired the depot master, “did you give the remains to the + Major?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir,” answered Issy. + </p> + <p> + “Did you tell him how the shockin' fatality happened? How the thing got + broken?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir, I told him.” + </p> + <p> + “What did he say? Didn't let his angry passions rise, did he?” + </p> + <p> + “No-o; no, sir, he didn't rise nothin'. He didn't get mad neither. But you + could see he felt pretty bad. Talked about 'old family glass' and + 'priceless airloons' or some such. Said much as he regretted to, he should + feel it no more'n justice to have somebody pay damages.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” Captain Sol looked very grave. “Issy, I can see your finish. + You'll have to pay for somethin' that's priceless, and how are you goin' + to do that? 'Old family glass,' hey? Hum! And I thought I saw the label of + a Boston store on that package.” + </p> + <p> + Obed Gott leaned forward eagerly. + </p> + <p> + “Is that Major Hardee you're talkin' about?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. He's the only Major we've got. Cap'ns are plenty as June bugs, + but Majors and Gen'rals are scarce. Why?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, nothin'. Only—” Mr. Gott muttered the remainder of the sentence + under his breath. However, the depot master heard it and his eye twinkled. + </p> + <p> + “You're glad of it!” he exclaimed. “Why, Obed! Major Cuthbertson Scott + Hardee! I'm surprised. Better not let the women folks hear you say that.” + </p> + <p> + “Look here!” cried Captain Stitt, rather tartly, “am I goin' to finish + that yarn of mine or don't you want to hear it?” + </p> + <p> + “BEG your pardon, Bailey. Go on. The last thing you said was what Stingy + Gabe said, and that was—” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0003" id="link2HCH0003"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER III + </h2> + <h3> + “STINGY GABE” + </h3> + <p> + “And that,” said Captain Bailey, mollified by the renewed interest of his + listeners, “was, 'Bully! I'll do it!' + </p> + <p> + “So he calls a meetin' of everybody interested, at his new house. About + every respectable man in town was there, includin' me. Most of the + billiard-room gang was there, likewise. Jotham, of course, wa'n't invited. + </p> + <p> + “Gabe calls the meetin' to order and the minister makes a speech tellin' + about the scheme. 'Our generous and public-spirited citizen, Honorable + Atkinson Holway,' had offered to build a suitable clubhouse, fix it up, + and donate it to the club, them and their heirs forever, Amen. 'Twas to + belong to the members to do what they pleased with—no strings tied + to it at all. Dues would be merely nominal, a dollar a year or some such + matter. Now, who favored such a club as that? + </p> + <p> + “Well, 'most everybody did. Daniel Bassett, chronic politician, justice of + the peace, and head of the 'Conservatives' at town meetin', he made a + talk, and in comes him and his crew. Gaius Ellis, another chronic, who is + postmaster and skipper of the 'Progressives,' had been fidgetin' in his + seat, and now up he bobs and says he's for it; then every 'Progressive' + jines immediate. But the billiard-roomers; they didn't jine. They looked + sort of sheepish, and set still. When Mr. Fisher begun to hint p'inted in + their direction, they got up and slid outdoor. And right then I'd ought to + have smelt trouble, but I didn't; had a cold in my head, I guess likely. + </p> + <p> + “Next thing was to build the new clubhouse, and Gabe went at it hammer and + tongs. He had a big passel of carpenters down from the city, and inside of + three months the buildin' was up, and she was a daisy, now I tell you. + There was a readin' room and a meetin' room and an 'amusement room.' The + amusements was crokinole and parchesi and checkers and the like of that. + Also there was a gymnasium and a place where you could play the pianner + and sing—till the sufferin' got acute and somebody come along and + abated you. + </p> + <p> + “When I fust went inside that clubhouse I see 'twas bound to be 'Good-by, + Bill,' for Jotham. His customers would shake his ratty old shanty for + sartin, soon's they see them elegant new rooms. I swan, if I didn't feel + sorry for the old reprobate, and, thinks I, I'll drop around and + sympathize a little. Sympathy don't cost nothin', and Jotham's pretty good + company. + </p> + <p> + “I found him settin' alongside the peanut roaster, watchin' a couple of + patients cruelize the pool table. + </p> + <p> + “'Hello, Bailey!' says he. 'You surprise me. Ain't you 'fraid of catchin' + somethin' in this ha'nt of sin? Have a chair, anyhow. And a cigar, won't + you?' + </p> + <p> + “I took the chair, but I steered off from the cigar, havin' had + experience. Told him I guessed I'd use my pipe. He chuckled. + </p> + <p> + “'Fur be it from me to find fault with your judgment,' he says. 'Terbacker + does smoke better'n anything else, don't it.' + </p> + <p> + “We set there and puffed for five minutes or so. Then he sort of jumped. + </p> + <p> + “'What's up?' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, nothin'!' he says. 'Bije Simmons got a ball in the pocket, that's + all. Don't do that too often, Bije; I got a weak heart. Well, Bailey,' he + adds, turnin' to me, 'Gabe's club's fixed up pretty fine, ain't it?' + </p> + <p> + “'Why, yes,' I says; ''tis.' + </p> + <p> + “'Finest ever I see,' says he. 'I told him so when I was in there.' + </p> + <p> + “'What?' says I. 'You don't mean to say YOU'VE been in that clubroom?' + </p> + <p> + “'Sartin. Why not? I want to take in all the shows there is—'specially + the free ones. Make a good billiard room, that clubhouse would.' + </p> + <p> + “I whistled. 'Whew!' says I. 'Didn't tell Gabe THAT, did you?' + </p> + <p> + “He nodded. 'Yup,' says he. 'I told him.' + </p> + <p> + “I whistled again. 'What answer did he make?' I asked. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, he wa'n't enthusiastic. Seemed to cal'late I'd better shut up my + head and my shop along with it, afore he knocked off one and his club + knocked out t'other.' + </p> + <p> + “I pitied the old rascal; I couldn't help it. + </p> + <p> + “'Jotham,' says I, 'I ain't the wust friend you've got in South Orham, + even if I don't play pool much. If I was you I'd clear out of here and + start somewheres else. You can't fight all the best folks in town.' + </p> + <p> + “He didn't make no answer. Just kept on a-puffin'. I got up to go. Then he + laid his hand on my sleeve. + </p> + <p> + “'Bailey,' says he, 'when Betsy Mayo was ailin', her sister's tribe was + all for the Faith Cure and her husband's relations was high for patent + medicine. When the Faith Curists got to workin', in would come some of the + patent mediciners and give 'em the bounce. And when THEY went home for the + night, the Faithers would smash all the bottles. Finally they got so busy + fightin' 'mong themselves that Betsy see she was gettin' no better fast, + and sent for the reg'lar doctor. HE done the curin', and got the pay.' + </p> + <p> + “'Well,' says I, 'what of it?' + </p> + <p> + “'Nothin',' says he. 'Only I've been practisin' a considerable spell. So + long. Come in again some time when it's dark and the respectable element + can't see you.' + </p> + <p> + “I went away thinkin' hard. And next mornin' I hunted up Gabe, and says I: + </p> + <p> + “'Mr. Holway,' I says, 'what puzzles me is how you're goin' to elect the + officers for the new club. Put up a Conservative and the Progressives + resign. H'ist the Progressive ensign and the Conservatives'll mutiny. As + for the billiard-roomers—providin' any jine—they've never been + known to vote for anybody but themselves. I can't see no light yet—nothin' + but fog.' + </p> + <p> + “He winks, sly and profound. 'That's all right,' says he. 'Fisher and I + have planned that. You watch!' + </p> + <p> + “Sure enough, they had. The minister was mighty popular, so, when 'twas + out that he was candidate to be fust president of the club, all hands was + satisfied. Two vice presidents was named—one bein' Bassett and + t'other Ellis. Secretary was a leadin' Conservative; treasurer a head + Progressive. Officers and crew was happy and mutiny sunk ten fathoms. ONLY + none of the billiard-room gang had jined, and they was the fish we was + really tryin' for. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas next March afore one of 'em did come into the net, though we'd have + on all kinds of bait—suppers and free ice cream Saturday nights, and + the like of that. And meantime things had been happenin'. + </p> + <p> + “The fust thing of importance was Gabe's leavin' town. Our Cape winter + weather was what fixed him. He stood the no'theasters and Scotch drizzles + till January, and then he heads for Key West and comfort. Said his heart + still beat warm for his native village, but his feet was froze—or + words similar. He cal'lated to be back in the spring. Then the Reverend + Fisher got a call to somewheres in York State, and felt he couldn't afford + not to hear it. Nobody blamed him; the salary paid a minister in South + Orham is enough to make any feller buy patent ear drums. But that left our + men's club without either skipper or pilot, as you might say. + </p> + <p> + “One week after the farewell sermon, Daniel Bassett drops in casual on me. + He was passin' around smoking material lavish and regardless. + </p> + <p> + “'Stitt,' says he, 'you've always voted for Conservatism in our local + affairs, haven't you?' + </p> + <p> + “'Well,' says I, 'I didn't vote to roof the town hall with a new mortgage, + if that's what you mean.' + </p> + <p> + “'Exactly,' he says. 'Now, our men's club, while not as yet the success we + hoped for, has come to be a power for good in our community. It needs for + its president a conservative, thoughtful man. Bailey,' he says, 'it has + come to my ears that Gaius Ellis intends to run for that office. You know + him. As a taxpayer, as a sober, thoughtful citizen, my gorge rises at such + insolence. I protest, sir! I protest against—' + </p> + <p> + “He was standin' up, makin' gestures with both arms, and he had his + town-meetin' voice iled and runnin'. I was too busy to hanker for a stump + speech, so I cut across his bows. + </p> + <p> + “'All right, all right,' says I. 'I'll vote for you, Dan.' + </p> + <p> + “He fetched a long breath. 'Thank you,' says he. 'Thank you. That makes + ten. Ellis can count on no more than nine. My election is assured.' + </p> + <p> + “Seein' that there wa'n't but nineteen reg'lar voters who come to the club + meetin's, if Bassett had ten of 'em it sartin did look as if he'd get in. + But on election night what does Gaius Ellis do but send a wagon after old + man Solomon Peavey, who'd been dry docked with rheumatiz for three months, + and Sol's vote evened her up. 'Twas ten to ten, a deadlock, and the + election was postponed for another week. + </p> + <p> + “This was of a Tuesday. On Wednesday I met Bije Simmons, the chap who was + playin' pool at Jotham's. + </p> + <p> + “'Hey, Bailey!' says he. 'Shake hands with a brother. I'm goin' to jine + the men's club.' + </p> + <p> + “'You BE?' says I, surprised enough, for Simmons was a billiard-roomer + from 'way back. + </p> + <p> + “'Yup,' he says. 'I'll be voted in at next meetin', sure. I'm studyin' up + on parchesi now.' + </p> + <p> + “'Hum!' I says, thinkin'. 'How you goin to vote?' + </p> + <p> + “'Me?' says he. 'Me? Why, man, I wonder at you! Can't you see the fires of + Conservatism blazin' in my eyes? I'm Conservative bred and Conservative + born, and when I'm dead there'll be a Conservative gone. By, by. See you + Tuesday night.' + </p> + <p> + “He went off, stoppin' everybody he met to tell 'em the news. And on + Thursday Ed Barnes dropped in to pay me the seventy-five cents he'd + borrowed two years ago come Fourth of July. When I'd got over the fust + shock and had counted the money three times, I commenced to ask questions. + </p> + <p> + “'Somebody die and will you a million, Ed?' I wanted to know. + </p> + <p> + “'No,' says he. 'It's the reward of virtue. I'm goin' to be a better man. + I'm jinin' the men's club.' + </p> + <p> + “'NO!' says I, for Ed was as strong a billiard-roomer as Bije. + </p> + <p> + “'Sure!' he answers. 'I'm filled full of desires for crokinole and + progressiveness. See you Tuesday night at the meetin'.' + </p> + <p> + “And, would you b'lieve it, at that meetin' no less'n six confirmed + members of the billiard-room gang was voted into the men's club. 'Twas a + hallelujah gatherin'. I couldn't help thinkin' how glad and proud Gabe and + Mr. Fisher would have been to see their dreams comin' true. But Bassett + and Ellis looked more worried than glad, and when the votin' took place I + understood the reason. Them new members had divided even, and the ballots + stood Bassett thirteen and Ellis thirteen. The tie was still on and the + election was put off for another week. + </p> + <p> + “In that week, surprisin' as it may seem, two more billiard-roomers seen a + light and jined with us. However, one was for Bassett and t'other for + Ellis, so the deadlock wa'n't broken. Jotham had only a couple of his + reg'lars left, and I swan to man if THEY didn't catch the disease inside + of the follerin' fortni't and hand in their names. The 'Billiard, Pool, + and Sipio Saloon,' from bein' the liveliest place in town, was now the + deadest. Through the window you could see poor Jotham mopin' lonesome + among his peanuts and cigars. The sayin' concernin' the hardness of the + transgressor's sleddin' was workin' out for HIM, all right. But the + conversions had come so sudden that I couldn't understand it, though I did + have some suspicions. + </p> + <p> + “'Look here, Dan,' says I to Bassett, 'are you goin' to keep this up till + judgment? There ain't but thirty votin' names in this place—except + the chaps off fishin', and they won't be back till fall. Fifteen is for + you and fifteen for Gaius. Most astonishin' agreement of difference ever I + see. We'll never have a president, at this rate.' + </p> + <p> + “He winked. 'Won't, hey?' he says. 'Sure you've counted right? I make it + thirty-one.' + </p> + <p> + “'I don't see how,' says I, puzzled. 'Nobody's left outside the club but + Jotham himself, and he—' + </p> + <p> + “'That's all right,' he interrupts, winkin' again. 'You be on hand next + Tuesday night. You can't always tell, maybe somethin'll happen.' + </p> + <p> + “I was on hand, all right, and somethin' did happen, two somethin's, in + fact. We hadn't much more'n got in our seats afore the door opened, and in + walked Gaius Ellis, arm in arm with a man; and the man was the Honorable + Stingy Gabe Atkinson Holway. + </p> + <p> + “'Gentlemen,' sings out Gaius, bubblin' over with joy, 'I propose three + cheers for our founder, who has returned to us after his long absence.' + </p> + <p> + “We give the cheers—that is, some of the folks did. Bassett and our + gang wa'n't cheerin' much; they looked as if somebody had passed 'em a + counterfeit note. You see, Gabe Holway was one of the hide-boundest + Progressives afloat, and a blind man could see who'd got him back again + and which way he'd vote. It sartinly looked bad for Bassett now. + </p> + <p> + “Gaius proposes that, out of compliment, as founder of the club, Mr. + Holway be asked to preside. So he was asked, though the Conservatives + wa'n't very enthusiastic. Gabe took the chair, preached a little sermon + about bein' glad to see his native home once more, and raps for order. + </p> + <p> + “'If there's no other business afore the meetin',' says he, 'we will + proceed to ballot for president.' + </p> + <p> + “But it turned out that there was other business. Dan Bassett riz to his + feet and commenced one of the most feelin' addresses ever I listened to. + </p> + <p> + “Fust he congratulated all hands upon the success of Mr. Holway's + philanthropic scheme for the betterment of South Orham's male citizens. + Jeered at at fust by the unregenerate, it had gone on, winnin' its way + into the hearts of the people, until one by one the said unregenerate had + regenerated, and now the club numbered thirty souls and the Honorable + Atkinson. + </p> + <p> + “'But,' says Dan, wavin' his arms, 'one man yet remains outside. One lone + man! The chief sinner, you say? Yes, I admit it. But, gentlemen, a + repentant sinner. Alone he sits amid the wreck of his business—a + business wrecked by us, gentlemen—without a customer, without a + friend. Shall it be said that the free and open-handed men's club of South + Orham turned its back upon one man, merely because he HAS been what he + was? Gentlemen, I have talked with Jotham Gale; he is old, he is + friendless, he no longer has a means of livelihood—we have taken it + from him. We have turned his followers' steps to better paths. Shall we + not turn his, also? Gentlemen and friends, Jotham Gale is repentant, he + feels his ostrichism'—whatever he meant by that—'he desires to + become self-respecting, and he asks us to help him. He wishes to join this + club. Gentlemen, I propose for membership in our association the name of + Jotham W. Gale.' + </p> + <p> + “He set down and mopped his face. And the powwow that broke loose was + somethin' tremendous. Of course 'twas plain enough what Dan's game was. + This was the 'somethin'' that was goin' to happen. + </p> + <p> + “Ellis see the way the land lay, and he bounces up to protest. 'Twas an + outrage; a scandal; ridiculous; and so forth, and so on. Poor Gabe didn't + know what to do, and so he didn't do nothin'. A head Conservative seconds + Jotham's nomination. 'Twas put to a vote and carried easy. Dan's speech + had had its effect and a good many folks voted out of sympathy. How did I + vote? I'LL never tell you. + </p> + <p> + “And then Bassett gets up, smilin', goes to the outside door, opens it, + and leads in the new member. He'd been waitin' on the steps, it turned + out. Jotham looked mighty quiet and meek. I pitied the poor old codger + more'n ever. Snaked in, he was, out of the wet, like a yeller dog, by the + club that had kicked him out of his own shop. + </p> + <p> + “Chairman Gabe pounds for order, and suggests that the votin' can go on. + But Ellis jumps up, and says he: + </p> + <p> + “'What's the sense of votin' now?' he asks sarcastic. 'Will the lost lamb + we've just yanked into the fold have the face to stand up and bleat that + he hasn't promised to vote Conservative? Dan Bassett, of all the + contemptible tricks that ever—' + </p> + <p> + “Bassett's face was redder'n a ripe tomatter. He shakes his fist in + Gaius's face and yells opinions and comments. + </p> + <p> + “'Don't you talk to me about tricks, you ward-heeler!' he hollers. 'Why + did you fetch Mr. Holway back home? Why did you, hey? That was the + trickiest trick that I—' + </p> + <p> + “Gabe pretty nigh broke his mallet thumpin'. + </p> + <p> + “'Gentlemen! gentlemen!' says he. 'This is most unseemly. Sit down, if you + PLEASE. Mr. Ellis, when the purpose of this association is considered, it + seems to me very wrong to find fault because the chief of our former + antagonists has seen the error of his ways and become one of us. Mr. + Bassett, I do not understand your intimation concernin' myself. I shall + adjourn this meetin' until next Friday evenin', gentlemen. Meanwhile, let + us remember that we ARE gentlemen.' + </p> + <p> + “He thumped the desk once, and parades out of the buildin', dignified as + Julius Caesar. The rest of us toddled along after him, all talkin' at + once. Bassett and Ellis glowered at each other and hove out hints about + what would happen afore they got through. 'Twas half-past ten afore I got + to bed that night, and Sarah J.—that's Mrs. Stitt—kept me + awake another hour explainin' whys and wherefores. + </p> + <p> + “For the next three days nobody done anything but knock off work and talk + club politics. You'd see 'em on the corners and in the post office and + camped on the meetin'-house steps, arguin' and jawin'. Dan and Gaius was + hurryin' around, moppin' their foreheads and lookin' worried. On Thursday + there was all sorts of rumors afloat. Finally they all simmered down to + one, and that one was what made me stop Stingy Gabe on the street and ask + for my bearin's. + </p> + <p> + “'Mr. Holway,' says I, 'is it true that Dan and Gaius have resigned and + agreed to vote for somebody else?' + </p> + <p> + “He nodded, grand and complacent. + </p> + <p> + “'Then who's the somebody?' says I. 'For the land sakes! tell me. It's as + big a miracle as the prodigal son.' + </p> + <p> + “I remember now that the prodigal son ain't a miracle, but I was excited + then. + </p> + <p> + “'Stitt,' says he, 'I am the “somebody,” as you call it. I have decided to + let my own wishes and inclinations count for nothin' in this affair, and + to accept the office of president myself. It will be announced at the + meetin'.' + </p> + <p> + “I whistled. 'By gum!' says I. 'You've got a great head, Mr. Holway, and I + give you public credit for it. It's the only course that ain't full of + breakers. Did you think of it yourself?' + </p> + <p> + “He colored up a little. 'Why, no, not exactly,' he says. 'The fact is, + the credit belongs to our new member, Mr. Gale.' + </p> + <p> + “'To JOTHAM?' says I, astonished. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes. He suggested my candidacy, as a compromise. Said that he, for one, + would be proud to vote for me. Mr. Gale seems thoroughly repentant, a + changed man. I am counting on him for great things in the future.' + </p> + <p> + “So the fuss seemed settled, thanks to the last person on earth you'd + expect would be peacemaker. But that afternoon I met Darius Tompkins, + Bassett's right-hand man. + </p> + <p> + “'Bailey,' says he, 'you're a Conservative, ain't you? You're for Dan + through thick and thin?' + </p> + <p> + “'Why!' says I, 'I understand Dan and Gaius are both out of it now, and + it's settled on Holway. Dan's promised to vote for him.' + </p> + <p> + “'HE has,' says Tompkins, with a wink, 'but the rest of us ain't. We + pledged our votes to Dan Bassett, and we ain't the kind to go back on our + word. Dan himself'll vote for Gabe; so'll Gaius and his reg'lar tribe. + That'll make twelve, countin' Holway's own.' + </p> + <p> + “'Make seventeen, you mean,' says I. 'Gaius and his crowd's fifteen and + Dan's sixteen and Gabe's seven—' + </p> + <p> + “He winked again, and interrupted me. 'You're countin' wrong, my boy,' + says he. 'Five of Gaius's folks come from the old billiard-room gang. Just + suppose somethin' happened to make that five vote, on the quiet, for + Bassett. Then—' + </p> + <p> + “A customer come in then, and Tompkins had to leave; but afore he went he + got me to one side and whispers: + </p> + <p> + “'Keep mum, old man, and vote straight for Dan. We'll show old Holway that + we can't be led around by the nose.' + </p> + <p> + “'Tompkins,' says I, 'I know your head well enough to be sartin that it + didn't work this out by itself. And why are you so sure of the billiard + roomers? Who put you up to this?' + </p> + <p> + “He rapped the side of his nose. 'The smartest politician in this town,' + says he, 'and the oldest—J. W. Gale, Esq.! S-s-sh-h! Don't say + nothin'.' + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say nothin'. I was past talk. And that evenin' as I went past + the billiard room on my way home, who should come out of it but Gaius + Ellis, and HE looked as happy as Tompkins had. + </p> + <p> + “Friday night that clubroom was filled. Every member was there, and most + of 'em had fetched their wives and families along to see the fun. There + was whisperin' and secrecy everywheres. Honorable Gabe took the chair and + makes announcements that the shebang is open for business. + </p> + <p> + “Up gets Dave Bassett and all but sheds tears. He says that he made up his + mind to vote, not for himself, but for the founder and patron of the club, + the Honorable Atkinson Holway. He spread it over Gabe thick as sugar on a + youngster's cake. And when he set down all hands applauded like fury. But + I noticed that he hadn't spoke for nary Conservative but himself. + </p> + <p> + “Then Gaius Ellis rises and sobs similar. He's stopped votin' for himself, + too. His ballot is for that grand and good man, Gabriel Atkinson Holway, + Esq. More applause and hurrahs. + </p> + <p> + “And then who should get up but Jotham Gale. He talks humble, like a + has-been that knows he's a back number, but he says it's his privilege to + cast his fust vote in that club for Mr. Holway, South Orham's pride. + Nobody was expectin' him to say anything, and the cheers pretty nigh broke + the winders. + </p> + <p> + “Gabe was turrible affected by the soft soap, you could see that. He + fairly sobbed as he sprinkled gratitude and acceptances. When the agony + was over, he says the votin' can begin. + </p> + <p> + “I cal'lated he expected somebody'd move to make it unanimous, but they + didn't. So the blank ballots was handed around, and the pencils got busy. + Gabe app'ints three tellers, Bassett and Ellis, of course, for two—and + the third, Jotham Gale. + </p> + <p> + “'As a compliment to our newest member,' says the chairman, smilin' + philanthropic. + </p> + <p> + “When the votes was in the hat, the tellers retired to the amusement room + to count up. It took a long time. I see the Conservatives and Progressives + nudgin' each other and winkin' back and forth. Five minutes, then ten, + then fifteen. + </p> + <p> + “And all of a sudden the biggest row bu'st loose in that amusement room + that ever you heard. Rattlety—bang! Biff! Smash! The door flew open, + and in rolled Bassett and Ellis, all legs and arms. Gabe and some of the + rest hauled 'em apart and held 'em so, but the language them two hove at + each other was enough to bring down a judgment. + </p> + <p> + “'Gentlemen! gentlemen!' hollers poor Gabe. 'What in the world? I am + astounded! I—' + </p> + <p> + “'You miserable traitor!' shrieks Gaius, wavin' a fist at Dan. + </p> + <p> + “'You low-down hound!' whoops Dan back at him. + </p> + <p> + “'Silence!' bellers Gabe, poundin' thunder storms on the desk. 'Will some + one explain why these maniacs are—Ah, Mr. Gale—thank goodness, + YOU at least are sane!' + </p> + <p> + “Jotham walks to the front of the platform. He was holdin' the hat and a + slip of paper with the result set down on it. + </p> + <p> + “'Ladies and feller members,' says he, 'there's been some surprisin' + votin' done in this election. Things ain't gone as we cal'lated they + would, somehow. Mr. Holway, your election wa'n't unanimous, after all.' + </p> + <p> + “The way he said it made most everybody think Gabe was elected, anyhow, + and I guess Holway thought so himself, for he smiled forgivin' and says: + </p> + <p> + “'Never mind, Mr. Gale,' says he. 'A unanimous vote was perhaps too much + to expect. Go on.' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes,' says Jotham. 'Well, here's the way it stands. I'll read it to + you.' + </p> + <p> + “He fixes his specs and reads like this: + </p> + <p> + “'Number of votes cast, 32.' + </p> + <p> + “'Honorable Atkinson Holway has 4.' + </p> + <p> + “'WHAT?' gasps Stingy Gabe, fallin' into his chair. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, sir,' says Jotham. 'It's a shame, I know, but it looks as nobody + voted for you, Mr. Holway, but yourself and me and Dan and Gaius. To + proceed: + </p> + <p> + “'Daniel Bassett has 9.' + </p> + <p> + “The Conservatives and their women folks fairly groaned out loud. Tompkins + jumped to his feet, but Jotham held up a hand. + </p> + <p> + “'Just a moment, D'rius,' he says. 'I ain't through yet.' + </p> + <p> + “'Gaius Ellis has 9.' + </p> + <p> + “Then 'twas the Progressives' turn to groan. The racket and hubbub was + gettin' louder all the time. + </p> + <p> + “'There's ten votes left,' goes on Jotham, 'and they bear the name of + Jotham W. Gale. I can't understand it, but it does appear that I'm elected + president of this 'ere club. Gentlemen, I thank you for the honor, which + is as great as 'tis unexpected.' + </p> + <p> + “Gabe and the Progressives and the Conservatives set and looked at each + other. And up jumps 'Bije Simmons, and calls for three cheers for the new + president. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody jined in them cheers but the old billiard room gang; they did, + though, every one of 'em, and Jotham smiled fatherly down on his flock. + </p> + <p> + “I s'pose there ain't no need of explainin'. Jotham had worked it all, + from the very fust. When the tie business begun and Gaius and Dan was + bribin' the billiard roomers to jine the club, 'twas him that fixed how + they should vote so's to keep the deadlock goin'. 'Twas him that put + Bassett up to proposin' him as a member. 'Twas him that suggested Gabe's + comin' back to Gaius. 'Twas him that—But what's the use? 'Twas him + all along. He was IT. + </p> + <p> + “That night everybody but the billiard-room gang sent in their resignation + to that club. We refused to be bossed by such people. Gabe resigned, too. + He was disgusted with East Harniss and all hands in it. He'd have took + back the clubhouse, but he couldn't, as the deed of gift was free and + clear. But he swore he'd never give it another cent. + </p> + <p> + “Folks thought that would end the thing, because it wouldn't be + self-supportin', but Jotham had different idees. He simply moved his pool + tables and truck up from the old shop, and now he's got the finest place + of the kind on the Cape, rent free. + </p> + <p> + “'I told you 'twould make a good billiard saloon, didn't I, Bailey?' he + says, chucklin'. + </p> + <p> + “'Jotham,' says I, 'of your kind you're a perfect wonder.' + </p> + <p> + “'Well,' says he, 'I diagnosed that men's club as sufferin' from acute + politics. I've been doctorin' that disease for a long time. The trouble + with you reformers,' he adds, solemn, 'is that, when it comes to political + doin's, you ain't practical.' + </p> + <p> + “As for Stingy Gabe, he shut up his fine house and moved to New York. Said + he was through with helpin' the moral tone. + </p> + <p> + “'When I die,' he says to me, 'if I go to the bad place I may start in + reformin' that. It don't need it no more'n South Orham does, but 'twill be + enough sight easier job.' + </p> + <p> + “And,” concluded Captain Stitt, as soon as he could be heard above the + “Haw! haws!” caused by the Honorable Holway's final summing-up of his + native town, “I ain't so sure that he was greatly mistook. What do you + think, Sol?” + </p> + <p> + The depot master shook his head. “Don't know, Bailey,” he answered, dryly. + “I'll have to visit both places 'fore I give an opinion. I HAVE been to + South Orham, but the neighborhood that your friend Gabe compared it to I + ain't seen—yet. I put on that 'yet,'” he added, with a wink, “'cause + I knew Sim Phinney would if I didn't.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Bailey rose and covered a yawn with a plump hand. + </p> + <p> + “I believe I'll go over to Obed's and turn in,” he said. “I'm sleepy as a + minister's horse tonight. You don't mind, do you, Obed?” + </p> + <p> + “No-o,” replied Mr. Gott, slowly. “No, I don't, 'special. I kind of + thought I'd run into the club a few minutes and see some of the other + fellers. But it ain't important—not very.” + </p> + <p> + The “club” was one of the rooms over Mr. Higgins's store and post office. + It had been recently fitted up with chairs and tables from its members' + garrets and, when the depot and store were closed, was a favorite + gathering place of those reckless ones who cared to “set up late”—that + is, until eleven o'clock. Most of the men in town belonged, but many, + Captain Berry among them, visited the room but seldom. + </p> + <p> + “Checkers,” said the depot master, referring to the “club's” favorite + game, “is too deliberately excitin' for me. To watch Beriah Higgins and + Ezra Weeks fightin' out a game of checkers is like gettin' your feet froze + in January and waitin' for spring to come and thaw 'em out. It's a numbin' + kind of dissipation.” + </p> + <p> + But Obed Gott was a regular attendant at the “club,” and to-night he had a + particular reason for wishing to be there. His cousin noticed his + hesitation and made haste to relieve his mind. + </p> + <p> + “That's all right, Obed,” he said, “go to the club, by all means. I ain't + such a stranger at your house that I can't find my way to bed without + help. Good-night, Sim. Good-night, Issy. Cheer up; maybe the Major's + glassware IS priceless. So long, Cap'n Sol. See you again some time + tomorrer.” + </p> + <p> + He and Mr. Gott departed. The depot master rose from his chair. “Issy,” he + commanded, “shut up shop.” + </p> + <p> + Issy obeyed, closing the windows and locking the front door. Captain Sol + himself locked the ticket case and put the cash till into the small safe. + </p> + <p> + “That'll do, Is,” said the Captain. “Good-night. Don't worry too much over + the Major's glass. I'll talk with him, myself. You dream about pleasanter + things—your girl, if you've got one.” + </p> + <p> + That was a chance shot, but it struck Issy in the heart. Even during his + melancholy progress to and from Major Hardee's, the vision of Gertie + Higgins had danced before his greenish-blue eyes. His freckles were + engulfed in a surge of blushes as, with a stammered “Night, Cap'n Berry,” + he hurried out into the moonlight. + </p> + <p> + The depot master blew out the lamps. “Come on, Sim,” he said, briefly. + “Goin' to walk up with me, or was YOU goin' to the club?” + </p> + <p> + “Cal'late I'll trot along with you, if you don't mind. I'd just as soon + get home early and wrastle with the figures on that Williams movin' job.” + </p> + <p> + They left the depot, locked and dark, passed the “general store,” where + Mr. Higgins was putting out his lights prior to adjournment to the “club” + overhead, walked up Main Street to Cross Street, turned and began climbing + the hill. Simeon spoke several times but his friend did not answer. A + sudden change had come over him. The good spirits with which he told of + his adventure with Williams and which had remained during Phinney's stay + at the depot, were gone, apparently. His face, in the moonlight, was grave + and he strode on, his hands in his pockets. + </p> + <p> + At the crest of the hill he stopped. + </p> + <p> + “Good-night, Sim,” he said, shortly, and, turning, walked off. + </p> + <p> + The building mover gazed after him in surprise. The nearest way to the + Berry home was straight down Cross Street, on the other side of the hill, + to the Shore Road, and thence along that road for an eighth of a mile. The + Captain's usual course was just that. But to-night he had taken the long + route, the Hill Boulevard, which made a wide curve before it descended to + the road below. + </p> + <p> + Sim, who had had a shrewd suspicion concerning his friend's silence and + evident mental disturbance, stood still, looking and wondering. Olive + Edwards, Captain Berry's old sweetheart, lived on the Boulevard. She was + in trouble and the Captain knew it. He had asked, that very evening, what + she was going to do when forced to move. Phinney could not tell him. Had + he gone to find out for himself? Was the mountain at last coming to + Mohammed? + </p> + <p> + For some minutes Simeon remained where he was, thinking and surmising. + Then he, too, turned and walked cautiously up the Boulevard. He passed the + Williams mansion, its library windows ablaze. He passed the twenty-five + room “cottage” of the gentleman from Chicago. Then he halted. Opposite him + was the little Edwards dwelling and shop. The curtains were up and there + was a lamp burning on the small counter. Beside the lamp, in a rocking + chair, sat Olive Edwards, the widow, sewing. As he gazed she dropped the + sewing in her lap, and raised her head. + </p> + <p> + Phinney saw how worn and sad she looked. And yet, how young, considering + her forty years and all she had endured and must endure. She put her hand + over her eyes, then removed it wearily. A lump came in Simeon's throat. If + he might only help her; if SOME ONE might help her in her lonely misery. + </p> + <p> + And then, from where he stood in the shadow of the Chicago gentleman's + hedge, he saw a figure step from the shadows fifty feet farther on. It was + Captain Solomon Berry. He walked to the middle of the road and halted, + looking in at Olive. Phinney's heart gave a jump. Was the Captain going + into that house, going to HER, after all these years? WAS the mountain— + </p> + <p> + But no. For a full minute the depot master stood, looking in at the woman + by the lamp. Then he jammed his hands into his pockets, wheeled, and + tramped rapidly off toward his home. Simeon Phinney went home, also, but + it was with a heavy heart that he sat down to figure the cost of moving + the Williams “pure Colonial” to its destined location. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0004" id="link2HCH0004"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IV + </h2> + <h3> + THE MAJOR + </h3> + <p> + The depot master and his friend, Mr. Phinney, were not the only ones whose + souls were troubled that evening. Obed Gott, as he stood at the foot of + the stairs leading to the meeting place of the “club,” was vexed and + worried. His cousin, Captain Stitt, had gone into the house and up to his + room, and Obed, after seeing him safely on his way, had returned to the + club. But, instead of entering immediately, he stood in the Higgins + doorway, thinking, and frowning as he thought. And the subject of his + thought was the idol of feminine East Harniss, the “old-school gentleman,” + Major Cuthbertson Scott Hardee. + </p> + <p> + The Major first came to East Harniss one balmy morning in March—came, + and created an immediate sensation. “Redny” Blount, who drives the “depot + wagon,” was wrestling with a sample trunk belonging to the traveling + representative of Messrs. Braid & Gimp, of Boston, when he heard a + voice—and such a voice—saying: + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, my dear sir, but may I trouble you for one moment?” + </p> + <p> + Now “Redny” was not used to being addressed as “my dear sir.” He turned + wonderingly, and saw the Major, in all his glory, standing beside him. + “Redny's” gaze took in the tall, slim figure in the frock coat tightly + buttoned; took in the white hair, worn just long enough to touch the + collar of the frock coat; the long, drooping white mustache and imperial; + the old-fashioned stock and open collar; the black and white checked + trousers; the gaiters; and, last of all, the flat brimmed, carefully + brushed, old-fashioned silk hat. Mr. Blount gasped. + </p> + <p> + “Huh?” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Pardon me, my dear sir,” repeated the Major, blandly, smoothly, and with + an air of—well, not condescension, but gracious familiarity. “Will + you be so extremely kind as to inform me concerning the most direct route + to the hotel or boarding house?” + </p> + <p> + The word “hotel” was the only part of this speech that struck home to + “Redny's” awed mind. + </p> + <p> + “Hotel?” he repeated, slowly. “Why, yes, sir. I'm goin' right that way. If + you'll git right into my barge I'll fetch you there in ten minutes.” + </p> + <p> + There was enough in this reply, and the manner in which it was delivered, + to have furnished the station idlers, in the ordinary course of events, + with matter for gossip and discussion for a week. Mr. Blount had not + addressed a person as “sir” since he went to school. But no one thought of + this; all were too much overcome by the splendor of the Major's presence. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” replied the Major. “Thank you. I am obliged to you, sir. + Augustus, you may place the baggage in this gentleman's conveyance.” + </p> + <p> + Augustus was an elderly negro, very black as to face and a trifle shabby + as to clothes, but with a shadow of his master's gentility, like a + reflected luster, pervading his person. He bowed low, departed, and + returned dragging a large, old style trunk, and carrying a plump valise. + </p> + <p> + “Augustus,” said the Major, “you may sit upon the seat with the driver. + That is,” he added, courteously, “if Mr.—Mr.—” + </p> + <p> + “Blount,” prompted the gratified “Redny.” + </p> + <p> + “If Mr. Blount will be good enough to permit you to do so.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, sartin. Jump right up. Giddap, you!” + </p> + <p> + There was but one passenger, besides the Major and Augustus, in the “depot + wagon” that morning. This passenger was Mrs. Polena Ginn, who had been to + Brockton on a visit. To Mrs. Polena the Major, raising his hat in a manner + that no native of East Harniss could acquire by a lifetime of teaching, + observed that it was a beautiful morning. The flustered widow replied that + it “was so.” This was the beginning of a conversation that lasted until + the “Central House” was reached, a conversation that left Polena impressed + with the idea that her new acquaintance was as near the pink of perfection + as mortal could be. + </p> + <p> + “It wa'n't his clothes, nuther,” she told her brother, Obed Gott, as they + sat at the dinner table. “I don't know what 'twas, but you could jest see + that he was a gentleman all over. I wouldn't wonder if he was one of them + New York millionaires, like Mr. Williams—but SO different. 'Redny' + Blount says he see his name onto the hotel register and 'twas 'Cuthbertson + Scott Hardee.' Ain't that a tony name for you? And his darky man called + him 'Major.' I never see sech manners on a livin' soul! Obed, I DO wish + you'd stop eatin' pie with a knife.” + </p> + <p> + Under these pleasing circumstances did Major Cuthbertson Scott Hardee make + his first appearance in East Harniss, and the reputation spread abroad by + Mr. Blount and Mrs. Ginn was confirmed as other prominent citizens met + him, and fell under the spell. In two short weeks he was the most popular + and respected man in the village. The Methodist minister said, at the + Thursday evening sociable, that “Major Hardee is a true type of the + old-school gentleman,” whereupon Beriah Higgins, who was running for + selectman, and therefore felt obliged to be interested in all educational + matters, asked whereabouts that school was located, and who was teaching + it now. + </p> + <p> + It was a treat to see the Major stroll down Main Street to the post office + every pleasant spring morning. Coat buttoned tight, silk hat the veriest + trifle on one side, one glove on and its mate carried with the cane in the + other hand, and the buttonhole bouquet—always the bouquet—as + fresh and bright and jaunty as its wearer himself. + </p> + <p> + It seemed that every housekeeper whose dwelling happened to be situated + along that portion of the main road had business in the front yard at the + time of the Major's passing. There were steps to be swept, or rugs to be + shaken, or doorknobs to be polished just at that particular time. + Dialogues like the following interrupted the triumphal progress at three + minute intervals: + </p> + <p> + “Good-morning, Mrs. Sogberry. GOOD-morning. A delightful morning. Busy as + the proverbial bee once more, I see. I can never cease to admire the + industry and model neatness of the Massachusetts housekeeper. And how is + your charming daughter this morning? Better, I trust?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, now, Major Hardee, I don't know. Abbie ain't so well's I wish she + was. She set up a spell yesterday, but the doctor says she ain't gittin' + along the way she'd ought to. I says to him, s'I, 'Abbie ain't never what + you'd call a reel hearty eater, but, my land! when she don't eat NOTHIN',' + I says—” + </p> + <p> + And so on and so on, with the Major always willing to listen, always + sympathetic, and always so charmingly courteous. + </p> + <p> + The Central House, East Harniss's sole hotel, and a very small one at + that, closed its doors on April 10th. Mr. Godfrey, its proprietor, had + come to the country for his health. He had been inveigled, by an + advertisement in a Boston paper, into buying the Central House at East + Harniss. It would afford him, so he reasoned, light employment and a + living. The employment was light enough, but the living was lighter. He + kept the Central House for a year. Then he gave it up as a bad job and + returned to the city. “I might keep my health if I stayed,” he admitted, + in explaining his position to Captain Berry, “but if I want to keep to + what little money I have left, I'd better go. Might as well die of disease + as starvation.” + </p> + <p> + Everyone expected that the “gentleman of the old school” would go also, + but one evening Abner Payne, whose business is “real estate, fire and life + insurance, justice of the peace, and houses to let and for sale,” rushed + into the post office to announce that the Major had leased the “Gorham + place,” furnished, and intended to make East Harniss his home. + </p> + <p> + “He likes the village so well he's goin' to stay here always,” explained + Abner. “Says he's been all 'round the world, but he never see a place he + liked so well's he does East Harniss. How's that for high, hey? And you + callin' it a one-horse town, Obed Gott!” + </p> + <p> + The Major moved into the “Gorham place” the next morning. It—the + “place”—was an old-fashioned house on the hill, though not on Mr. + Williams' “Boulevard.” It had been one of the finest mansions in town once + on a time, but had deteriorated rapidly since old Captain Elijah Gorham + died. Augustus carried the Major's baggage from the hotel to the house. + This was done very early and none of the natives saw the transfer. There + was some speculation as to how the darky managed to carry the big trunk + single-handed; one of two persons asked Augustus this very question, but + they received no satisfactory answer. Augustus was habitually + close-mouthed. Mr. Godfrey left town that same morning on the first train. + </p> + <p> + The Major christened his new home “Silver-leaf Hall,” because of two great + “silver-leaf” trees that stood by the front door. He had some repairing, + paper hanging and painting done, ordered a big stock of groceries from the + local dealer, and showed by his every action that his stay in East Harniss + was to be a lengthy one. He hired a pew in the Methodist church, and + joined the “club.” Augustus did the marketing for “Silver-leaf Hall,” and + had evidently been promoted to the position of housekeeper. + </p> + <p> + The Major moved in April. It was now the third week in June and his + popularity was, if possible, more pronounced than ever. On this + particular, the evening of Captain Bailey Stitt's unexpected arrival, Obed + had been sitting by the tea table in his dining room after supper, going + over the account books of his paint, paper, and oil store. His sister, + Mrs. Polena Ginn, was washing dishes in the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “Wat's that letter you're readin', Obed?” she called from her post by the + sink. + </p> + <p> + “Nothin',” said her brother, gruffly, crumpling up the sheet of note paper + and jamming it into his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “My sakes! you're shorter'n pie crust to-night. What's the matter? + Anything gone wrong at the store?” + </p> + <p> + “No.” + </p> + <p> + Silence again, only broken by the clatter of dishes. Then Polena said: + </p> + <p> + “Obed, when are you goin' to take me up to the clubroom so's I can see + that picture of Major Hardee that he presented the club with? Everybody + says it's just lovely. Sarah T. says it's perfectly elegant, only not + quite so handsome as the Major reelly is. She says it don't flatter him + none.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Anybody'd think Hardee was some kind of a wonder, the way you + women folks go on 'bout him. How do you know but what he might be a + reg'lar fraud? Looks ain't everything.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I never! Obed Gott, I should think you'd be 'shamed of yourself, + talkin' that way. I shan't speak another word to you to-night. I never see + you act so unlikely. An old fraud! The idea! That grand, noble man!” + </p> + <p> + Obed tried to make some sort of half-hearted apology, but his sister + wouldn't listen to it. Polena's dignity was touched. She was a woman of + consequence in East Harniss, was Polena. Her husband had, at his death, + left her ten thousand dollars in her own right, and she owned bonds and + had money in the Wellmouth Bank. Nobody, not even her brother, was allowed + to talk to her in that fashion. + </p> + <p> + To tell the truth, Obed was sorry he had offended his sister. He had been + throwing out hints of late as to the necessity of building an addition to + the paint and oil store, and had cast a longing look upon a portion of + Polena's ten thousand. The lady had not promised to extend the financial + aid, but she had gone so far as to say she would think about it. So Obed + regretted his insinuations against the Major's integrity. + </p> + <p> + After a while he threw the account books upon the top of the chest of + drawers, put on his hat and coat and announced that he was going over to + the depot for a “spell.” Polena did not deign to reply, so, after + repeating the observation, he went out and slammed the door. + </p> + <p> + Now, two hours later, as he stood in the doorway of the club, he was + debating what he should do in a certain matter. That matter concerned + Major Hardee and was, therefore, an extremely delicate one. At length Mr. + Gott climbed the narrow stairs and entered the clubroom. It was blue with + tobacco smoke. + </p> + <p> + The six or eight members present hailed him absently and went on with + their games of checkers or “seven-up.” He attempted a game of checkers and + lost, which did not tend to make his temper any sweeter. His ill nature + was so apparent that Beriah Higgins, who suffered from dyspepsia and + consequent ill temper, finally commented upon it. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter with you, Obed?” he asked tartly. “Too much of P'lena's + mince pie?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” grunted Mr. Gott shortly. + </p> + <p> + “What is it, then? Ain't paint sellin' well?” + </p> + <p> + “Sellin' well 'nough. I could sell a hundred ton of paint to-morrow, + more'n likely, but when it come to gittin' the money for it, that would be + another story. If folks would pay their bills there wouldn't be no + trouble.” + </p> + <p> + “Who's stuck you now?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't s'pose anybody has, but it's just as bad when they don't pay up. + I've got to have money to keep a-goin' with. It don't make no diff'rence + if it's as good a customer as Major Hardee; he ought to remember that we + ain't all rich like him and—” + </p> + <p> + A general movement among all the club members interrupted him. The checker + players left their boards and came over; the “seven-up” devotees dropped + their cards and joined the circle. + </p> + <p> + “What was that you said?” asked Higgins, uneasily. “The Major owin' you + money, was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, course I know he's all right and a fine man and all that,” protested + Obed, feeling himself put on the defensive. “But that ain't it. What's a + feller goin' to do when he needs the money and gets a letter like that?” + </p> + <p> + He drew the crumpled sheet of note paper from his pocket, and threw it on + the table. Higgins picked it up and read it aloud, as follows: + </p> + <p> + SILVERLEAF HALL, June 20th. + </p> + <p> + MY DEAR MR. GOTT: I am in receipt of your courteous communication of + recent date. I make it an unvarying rule to keep little ready money here + in East Harniss, preferring rather to let it remain at interest in the + financial institutions of the cities. Another rule of mine, peculiar, I + dare say—even eccentric, if you like—is never to pay by check. + I am expecting remittances from my attorneys, however, and will then bear + you in mind. Again thanking you for your courtesy, and begging you to + extend to your sister my kindest regards, I remain, my dear sir, + </p> + <p> + Yours very respectfully, + </p> + <p> + CUTHBERTSON SCOTT HARDEE. + </p> + <p> + P. S.—I shall be delighted to have the pleasure of entertaining your + sister and yourself at dinner at the hall on any date agreeable to you. + Kindly let me hear from you regarding this at your earliest convenience. I + must insist upon this privilege, so do not disappoint me, I beg. + </p> + <p> + The reception accorded this most gentlemanly epistle was peculiar. Mr. + Higgins laid it upon the table and put his hand into his own pocket. So + did Ezra Weeks, the butcher; Caleb Small, the dry goods dealer; “Hen” + Leadbetter, the livery stable keeper; “Bash” Taylor, the milkman, and + three or four others. And, wonder of wonders, each produced a sheet of + note paper exactly like Obed's. + </p> + <p> + They spread them out on the table. The dates were, of course, different, + and they differed in other minor particulars, but in the main they were + exactly alike. And each one of them ended with an invitation to dinner. + </p> + <p> + The members of the club looked at each other in amazement. Higgins was the + first to speak. + </p> + <p> + “Godfrey mighty!” he exclaimed. “Say, this is funny, ain't it? It's more'n + funny; it's queer! By jimmy, it's more'n that—it's serious! Look + here, fellers; is there anybody in this crowd that the Major's paid for + anything any time?” + </p> + <p> + They waited. No one spoke. Then, with one impulse, every face swung about + and looked up to where, upon the wall, hung the life-size photograph of + the Major, dignified, gracious, and gilt-framed. It had been presented to + the club two months before by Cuthbertson Scott Hardee, himself. + </p> + <p> + “Ike—Ike Peters,” said Higgins. “Say, Ike—has he ever paid you + for havin' that took?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Peters, who was the town photographer, reddened, hesitated, and then + stammered, “Why, no, he ain't, yet.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted Higgins. No one else said anything. One or two took out + pocket memorandum books and went over some figures entered therein. + Judging by their faces the results of these calculations were not + pleasing. Obed was the first to break the painful silence: + </p> + <p> + “Well!” he exclaimed, sarcastically; “ain't nobody got nothin' to say? If + they ain't, I have. Or, at any rate, I've got somethin' to do.” And he + rose and started to put on his coat. + </p> + <p> + “Hi! hold on a minute, Obed, you loon!” cried Higgins. “Where are you + goin'?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin' to put my bill in Squire Baker's hands for c'lection, and I'm + goin' to do it tonight, too.” + </p> + <p> + He was on his way to the door, but two or three ran to stop him. + </p> + <p> + “Don't be a fool, Obed,” said Higgins. “Don't go off ha'f cocked. Maybe + we're gittin' scared about nothin'. We don't know but we'll get every cent + that's owed us.” + </p> + <p> + “Don't KNOW! Well, I ain't goin' to wait to find out. What makes me + b'ilin' is to think how we've set still and let a man that we never saw + afore last March, and don't know one blessed thing about, run up bills and + RUN 'em up. How we come to be such everlastin' fools I don't see! What did + we let him have the stuff for? Why didn't we make him pay? I—” + </p> + <p> + “Now see here, Obed Gott,” broke in Weeks, the butcher, “you know why just + as well as we do. Why, blast it!” he added earnestly, “if he was to come + into my shop to-morrow and tip that old high hat of his, and smile and say + 'twas a fine mornin and 'How's the good lady to-day?' and all that, he'd + get ha'f the meat there was in the place, and I wouldn't say 'Boo'! I jest + couldn't, that's all.” + </p> + <p> + This frank statement was received with approving nods and a chorus of + muttered “That's so's.” + </p> + <p> + “It looks to me this way,” declared Higgins. “If the Major's all right, + he's a mighty good customer for all of us. If he ain't all right, we've + got to find it out, but we're in too deep to run resks of gettin' him mad + 'fore we know for sure. Let's think it over for a week. Inside of that + time some of us'll hint to him, polite but firm, you understand, that + we've got to have something on account. A week from to-night we'll meet in + the back room of my store, talk it over and decide what to do. What do you + say?” + </p> + <p> + Everybody but Obed agreed. He declared that he had lost money enough and + wasn't going to be a fool any longer. The others argued with him patiently + for a while and then Leadbetter, the livery stable keeper, said sharply: + </p> + <p> + “See here, Obe! You ain't the only one in this. How much does the Major + owe you?” + </p> + <p> + “Pretty nigh twenty dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! You're lucky. He owes me over thirty, and I guess Higgins is worse + off than any of us. Ain't that so, Beriah?” + </p> + <p> + “About seventy, even money,” answered the grocer, shortly. “No use, Obed, + we've got to hang together. Wait a week and then see. And, fellers,” he + added, “don't tell a soul about this business, 'specially the women folks. + There ain't a woman nor girl in this town that don't think Major Hardee's + an A1, gold-plated saint, and twouldn't be safe to break the spell on a + guess.” + </p> + <p> + Obed reached home even more disgruntled than when he left it. He sat up + until after twelve, thinking and smoking, and when he went to bed he had a + brilliant idea. The next morning he wrote a letter and posted it. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0005" id="link2HCH0005"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER V + </h2> + <h3> + A BABY AND A ROBBERY + </h3> + <p> + The morning train for Boston, at that season of the year, reached East + Harniss at five minutes to six, an “ungodly hour,” according to the + irascible Mr. Ogden Williams, who, in company with some of his wealthy + friends, the summer residents, was petitioning the railroad company for a + change in the time-table. When Captain Sol Berry, the depot master, walked + briskly down Main Street the morning following Mr. Gott's eventful evening + at the club, the hands of the clock on the Methodist church tower + indicated that the time was twenty minutes to six. + </p> + <p> + Issy McKay was already at the depot, the doors of which were open. Captain + Sol entered the waiting room and unlocked the ticket rack and the little + safe. Issy, languidly toying with the broom on the front platform, paused + in his pretense of sweeping and awaited permission to go home for + breakfast. It came, in characteristic fashion. + </p> + <p> + “How's the salt air affectin' your appetite, Is?” asked the Captain, + casually. + </p> + <p> + Issy, who, being intensely serious by nature, was uneasy when he suspected + the presence of a joke, confusedly stammered that he cal'lated his + appetite was all right. + </p> + <p> + “Payin' for the Major's glass ain't kept you awake worryin', has it?” + </p> + <p> + “No-o, sir. I—” + </p> + <p> + “P'r'aps you thought he was the one to 'do the worryin', hey?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, what's your folks goin' to have to eat this mornin'?” + </p> + <p> + Issy admitted his belief that fried clams were to be the breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “So? Clams? Is, did you ever read the soap advertisement about not bein' a + clam?” + </p> + <p> + “I—I don't know's I ever did. No, sir.” + </p> + <p> + “All right; I only called your attention to it as a warnin', that's all. + When anybody eats as many clams as you do there's a fair chance of his + turnin' into one. Now clear out, and don't stay so long at breakfast that + you can't get back in time for dinner. Trot!” + </p> + <p> + Issy trotted. The depot master seated himself by the door of the ticket + office and fell into a reverie. It was interrupted by the entrance of + Hiram Baker. Captain Hiram was an ex-fishing skipper, fifty-five years of + age, who, with his wife, Sophronia, and their infant son, Hiram Joash + Baker, lived in a small, old-fashioned house at the other end of the + village, near the shore. Captain Hiram, having retired from the sea, got + his living, such as it was, from his string of fish traps, or “weirs.” + </p> + <p> + The depot master hailed the new arrival heartily. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, there, Hiram!” he cried, rising from his chair. “Glad to see you + once in a while. Ain't goin' to leave us, are you? Not goin' abroad for + your health, or anything of that kind, hey?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Baker laughed. + </p> + <p> + “No,” he answered. “No further abroad than Hyannis. And I'll be back from + there tonight, if the Lord's willin' and the cars don't get off the track. + Give me a round trip ticket, will you, Sol?” + </p> + <p> + The depot master retired to the office, returning with the desired ticket. + Captain Hiram counted out the price from a confused mass of coppers and + silver, emptied into his hand from a blackened leather purse, tied with a + string. + </p> + <p> + “How's Sophrony?” asked the depot master. “Pretty smart, I hope.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup, she's smart. Has to be to keep up with the rest of the family—'specially + the youngest.” + </p> + <p> + He chuckled. His friend laughed in sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “The youngest is the most important of all, I s'pose,” he observed. “How + IS the junior partner of H. Baker and Son?” + </p> + <p> + “He ain't a silent partner, I'll swear to that. Honest, Sol, I b'lieve my + 'Dusenberry' is the cutest young one outside of a show. I said so only + yesterday to Mr. Hilton, the minister. I did, and I meant it.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we're all gettin' ready to celebrate his birthday. Ho, ho!” + </p> + <p> + This was a standard joke and was so recognized and honored. A baby born on + the Fourth of July is sure of a national celebration of his birthday. And + to Captain Baker and his wife, no celebration, however widespread, could + do justice to the importance of the occasion. When, to answer the heart + longings of the child-loving couple married many years, the baby came, he + was accepted as a special dispensation of Providence and valued + accordingly. + </p> + <p> + “He's got a real nice voice, Hiram,” said Sophronia, gazing proudly at the + prodigy, who, clutched gingerly in his father's big hands, was screaming + his little red face black. “I shouldn't wonder if he grew up to sing in + the choir.” + </p> + <p> + “That's the kind of voice to make a fo'mast hand step lively!” declared + Hiram. “You'll see this boy on the quarter deck of a clipper one of these + days.” + </p> + <p> + Naming him was a portentous proceeding and one not to be lightly gone + about. Sophronia, who was a Methodist by descent and early confirmation, + was of the opinion that the child should have a Bible name. + </p> + <p> + The Captain respected his wife's wishes, but put in an ardent plea for his + own name, Hiram. + </p> + <p> + “There's been a Hiram Baker in our family ever since Noah h'isted the + main-r'yal on the ark,” he declared. “I'd kinder like to keep the + procession a-goin'.” + </p> + <p> + They compromised by agreeing to make the baby's Christian name Hiram and + to add a middle name selected at random from the Scriptures. The big, + rickety family Bible was taken from the center table and opened with + shaking fingers by Mrs. Baker. She read aloud the first sentence that met + her eye: “The son of Joash.” + </p> + <p> + “Joash!” sneered her husband. “You ain't goin' to cruelize him with that + name, be you?” + </p> + <p> + “Hiram Baker, do you dare to fly in the face of Scriptur'?” + </p> + <p> + “All right! Have it your own way. Go to sleep now, Hiram Joash, while I + sing 'Storm along, John,' to you.” + </p> + <p> + Little Hiram Joash punched the minister's face with his fat fist when he + was christened, to the great scandal of his mother and the ill-concealed + delight of his father. + </p> + <p> + “Can't blame the child none,” declared the Captain. “I'd punch anybody + that christened a middle name like that onto me.” + </p> + <p> + But, in spite of his name, the baby grew and prospered. He fell out of his + crib, of course, the moment that he was able, and barked his shins over + the big shells by the what-not in the parlor the first time that he + essayed to creep. He teethed with more or less tribulation, and once upset + the household by an attack of the croup. + </p> + <p> + They gave up calling him by his first name, because of the Captain's + invariably answering when the baby was wanted and not answering when he + himself was wanted. Sophronia would have liked to call him Joash, but her + husband wouldn't hear of it. At length the father took to calling him + “Dusenberry,” and this nickname was adopted under protest. + </p> + <p> + Captain Hiram sang the baby to sleep every night. There were three songs + in the Captain's repertoire. The first was a chanty with a chorus of + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + John, storm along, storm along, John, + Ain't I glad my day's work's done. +</pre> + <p> + The second was the “Bowline Song.” + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Haul on the bowline, the 'Phrony is a-rollin', + Haul on the bowline! the bowline HAUL! +</pre> + <p> + At the “haul!” the Captain's foot would come down with a thump. Almost the + first word little Hiram Joash learned was “haul!” He used to shout it and + kick his father vigorously in the vest. + </p> + <p> + These were fair-weather songs. Captain Hiram sang them when everything was + going smoothly. The “Bowline Song” indicated that he was feeling + particularly jubilant. He had another that he sang when he was worried. It + was a lugubrious ditty, with a refrain beginning: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Oh, sailor boy, sailor boy, 'neath the wild billow, + Thy grave is yawnin' and waitin' for thee. +</pre> + <p> + He sang this during the worst of the teething period, and, later, when the + junior partner wrestled with the whooping cough. You could always tell the + state of the baby's health by the Captain's choice of songs. + </p> + <p> + Meanwhile Dusenberry grew and prospered. He learned to walk and to talk, + after his own peculiar fashion, and, at the mature age of two years and + six months, formally shipped as first mate aboard his father's dory. His + duties in this responsible position were to sit in the stern, securely + fastened by a strap, while the Captain and his two assistants rowed out + over the bar to haul the nets of the deep water fish weir. + </p> + <p> + The first mate gave the orders, “All hands on deck! 'Tand by to det ship + under way!” There was no “sogerin'” aboard the Hiram Junior—that was + the dory's name—while the first officer had command. + </p> + <p> + Captain Hiram, always ready to talk of the wonderful baby, told the depot + master of the youngster's latest achievement, which was to get the cover + off the butter firkin in the pantry and cover himself with butter from + head to heel. + </p> + <p> + “Ho, ho, ho!” he roared, delightedly, “when Sophrony caught him at it, + what do you s'pose he said? Said he was playin' he was a slice of bread + and was spreadin' himself. Haw! haw!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Sol laughed in sympathy. + </p> + <p> + “But he didn't mean no harm by it,” explained the proud father. “He's got + the tenderest little heart in the world. When he found his ma felt bad he + bust out cryin' and said he'd scrape it all off again and when it come + prayer time he'd tell God who did it, so He'd know 'twa'n't mother that + wasted the nice butter. What do you think of that?” + </p> + <p> + “No use talkin', Hiram,” said the depot master, “that's the kind of boy to + have.” + </p> + <p> + “You bet you! Hello! here's the train. On time, for a wonder. See you + later, Sol. You take my advice, get married and have a boy of your own. + Nothin' like one for solid comfort.” + </p> + <p> + The train was coming and they went out to meet it. The only passenger to + alight was Mr. Barzilla Wingate, whose arrival had been foretold by Bailey + Stitt the previous evening. Barzilla was part owner of a good-sized summer + hotel at Wellmouth Neck. He and the depot master were old friends. + </p> + <p> + After the train had gone Wingate and Captain Sol entered the station + together. The Captain had insisted that his friend come home with him to + breakfast, instead of going to the hotel. After some persuasion Barzilla + agreed. So they sat down to await Issy's arrival. The depot master could + not leave the station until the “assistant” arrived. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Barzilla,” asked Captain Sol, “what's the newest craze over to the + hotel?” + </p> + <p> + “The newest,” said Wingate, with a grin, “is automobiles.” + </p> + <p> + “Automobiles? Why, I thought 'twas baseball.” + </p> + <p> + “Baseball was last summer. We had a championship team then. Yes, sir, we + won out, though for a spell it looked pretty dubious. But baseball's an + old story. We've had football since, and now—” + </p> + <p> + “Wait a minute! Football? Why, now I do remember. You had a football team + there and—and wa'n't there somethin' queer, some sort of a—a + robbery, or stealin', or swindlin' connected with it? Seems's if I'd heard + somethin' like that.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wingate looked his friend over, winked, and asked a question. + </p> + <p> + “Sol,” he said, “you ain't forgot how to keep a secret?” + </p> + <p> + The depot master smiled. “I guess not,” he said. + </p> + <p> + “Well, then, I'm goin' to trust you with one. I'm goin' to tell you the + whole business about that robbin'. It's all mixed up with football and + millionaires and things—and it's a dead secret, the truth of it. So + when I tell you it mustn't go no further. + </p> + <p> + “You see,” he went on, “it was late into August when Peter T. was took + down with the inspiration. Not that there was anything 'specially new in + his bein' took. He was subject to them seizures, Peter was, and every time + they broke out in a fresh place. The Old Home House itself was one of his + inspirations, so was the hirin' of college waiters, the openin' of the two + 'Annex' cottages, the South Shore Weather Bureau, and a whole lot more. + Sometimes, as in the weather-bureau foolishness, the disease left him and + t'other two patients—meanin' me and Cap'n Jonadab—pretty weak + in the courage, and wasted in the pocketbook; but gen'rally they turned + out good, and our systems and bank accounts was more healthy than normal. + One of Peter T.'s inspirations was consider'ble like typhoid fever—if + you did get over it, you felt better for havin' had it. + </p> + <p> + “This time the attack was in the shape of a 'supplementary season.' 'Twas + Peter's idea that shuttin' up the Old Home the fust week in September was + altogether too soon. + </p> + <p> + “'What's the use of quittin',' says he, 'while there's bait left and the + fish are bitin'? Why not keep her goin' through September and October? Two + or three ads—MY ads—in the papers, hintin' that the ducks and + wild geese are beginnin' to keep the boarders awake by roostin' in the + back yard and hollerin' at night—two or three of them, and we'll + have gunners here by the regiment. Other summer hotels do it, the + Wapatomac House and the rest, so why not us? It hurts my conscience to see + good money gettin' past the door 'count of the “Not at Home” sign hung on + the knob. What d'you say, partners?' says he. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we had consider'ble to say, partic'lar Cap'n Jonadab. 'Twas too + risky and too expensive. Gunnin' was all right except for one thing—that + is, that there wa'n't none wuth mentionin'. + </p> + <p> + “'Ducks are scurser round here than Democrats in a Vermont town-meetin',' + growled the Cap'n. 'And as for geese! How long has it been since you see a + goose, Barzilla?' + </p> + <p> + “'Land knows!' says I. 'I can remember as fur back as the fust time Washy + Sparrow left off workin', but I can't—' + </p> + <p> + “Brown told us to shut up. Did we cal'late he didn't know what he was + talkin' about? + </p> + <p> + “'I can see two geese right now,' he snaps; 'but they're so old and + leather-headed you couldn't shoot an idea into their brains with a cannon. + Gunnin' ain't the whole thing. My makin' a noise like a duck is only to + get the would-be Teddy Roosevelts headed for this neck of the woods. After + they get here, it's up to us to keep 'em. And I can think of as many ways + to do that as the Cap'n can of savin' a quarter. Our baseball team's been + a success, ain't it? Sure thing! Then why not a football team? Parker says + he'll get it together, and coach and cap'n it, too. And Robinson and his + daughter have agreed to stay till October fifteenth. So there's a start, + anyhow.' + </p> + <p> + “'Twas a start, and a pretty good one. The Robinsons had come to the Old + Home about the fust of August, and they was our star boarders. 'G. W. + Robinson' was the old man's name as entered on the hotel log, and his + daughter answered to the hail of 'Grace'—that is, when she took a + notion to answer at all. The Robinsons was what Peter T. called + 'exclusive.' They didn't mix much with the rest of the bunch, but kept to + themselves in their rooms, partic'lar when a fresh net full of boarders + was hauled aboard. Then they seemed to take an observation of every + arrival afore they mingled; questioned the pedigree and statistics of all + hands, and acted mighty suspicious. + </p> + <p> + “The only thing that really stirred Papa Robinson up and got him excited + and friendly was baseball and boat racin'. He was an old sport, that was + plain, the only real plain thing about him; the rest was mystery. As for + Grace, she wa'n't plain by a good sight, bein' what Brown called a + 'peach.' She could have had every single male in tow if she'd wanted 'em. + Apparently she didn't want em, preferrin' to be lonesome and sad and + interestin'. Yes, sir, there was a mystery about them Robinsons, and even + Peter T. give in to that. + </p> + <p> + “'If 'twas anybody else,' says he, 'I'd say the old man was a crook, down + here hidin' from the police. But he's too rich for that, and always has + been. He ain't any fly-by-night. I can tell the real article without + lookin' for the “sterlin'” mark on the handle. But I'll bet all the + cold-storage eggs in the hotel against the henyard—and that's big + odds—that he wa'n't christened Robinson. And his face is familiar to + me. I've seen it somewhere, either in print or in person. I wish I knew + where.' + </p> + <p> + “So if the Robinsons had agreed to stay—them and their two servants—that + was a big help, as Brown said. And Parker would help, too, though we + agreed there wa'n't no mystery about him. He was a big, broad-shouldered + young feller just out of college somewheres, who had drifted our way the + fortni't after the Robinsons came, with a reputation for athletics and a + leanin' toward cigarettes and Miss Grace. She leaned a little, too, but + hers wa'n't so much of a bend as his was. He was dead gone on her, and if + she'd have decided to stay under water, he'd have ducked likewise. 'Twas + easy enough to see why HE believed in a 'supplementary season.' + </p> + <p> + “Me and Jonadab argued it out with Peter, and finally we met halfway, so's + to speak. We wouldn't keep the whole shebang open, but we'd shut up + everything but one Annex cottage, and advertise that as a Gunner's + Retreat. So we done it. + </p> + <p> + “And it worked. Heavens to Betsy—yes! It worked so well that by the + second week in September we had to open t'other Annex. The gunnin' was + bad, but Peter's ads fetched the would-be's, and his 'excursions' and + picnics and the football team held 'em. The football team especial. Parker + cap'ned that, and, from the gunnin' crew and the waiters and some + fishermen in the village, he dug up an eleven that showed symptoms of + playin' the game. We played the Trumet High School, and beat it, thanks to + Parker, and that tickled Pa Robinson so that he bought a two-handled + silver soup tureen—'lovin' cup,' he called it—and agreed to + give it to the team round about that won the most of the series. So the + series was arranged, the Old Home House crowd and the Wapatomac House + eleven and three high-school gangs bein' in it. And 'twas practice, + practice, practice, from then on. + </p> + <p> + “When we opened the second Annex, the question of help got serious. Most + of our college waiters had gone back to school, and we was pretty shy of + servants. So we put some extry advertisin' in the Cape weeklies, and + trusted in Providence. + </p> + <p> + “The evenin' followin' the ad in the weeklies, I was settin' smokin' on + the back piazza of the shut-up main hotel, when I heard the gate click and + somebody crunchin' along the clam-shell path. I sung out: 'Ahoy, there!' + and the cruncher, whoever he was, come my way. Then I made out that he was + a tall young chap, with his hands in his pockets. + </p> + <p> + “'Good evenin',' says he. 'Is this Mr. Brown?' + </p> + <p> + “'Thankin' you for the compliment, it ain't,' I says. 'My name's Wingate.' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh!' says he. 'Is that so? I've heard father speak of you, Mr. Wingate. + He is Solomon Bearse, of West Ostable. I think you know him slightly.' + </p> + <p> + “Know him? Everybody on the Cape knows Sol Bearse; by reputation, anyhow. + He's the richest, meanest old cranberry grower and coastin'-fleet owner in + these parts. + </p> + <p> + “'Is Sol Bearse your dad?' I asks, astonished. 'Why, then, you must be + Gus?' + </p> + <p> + “'No,' he says. 'I'm the other one—Fred.' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, the college one. The one who's goin' to be a lawyer.' + </p> + <p> + “'Well, yes—and no,' says he. 'I WAS the college one, as you call + it, but I'm not goin' to be a lawyer. Father and I have had some talk on + that subject, and I think we've settled it. I—well, just at present, + I'm not sure what I'm goin' to be. That's what I've come to you for. I saw + your ad in the Item, and—I want a job.' + </p> + <p> + “I was set all aback, and left with my canvas flappin', as you might say. + Sol Bearse's boy huntin' a job in a hotel kitchen! Soon's I could fetch a + whole breath, I wanted partic'lars. He give 'em to me. + </p> + <p> + “Seems he'd been sent out to one of the colleges in the Middle West by his + dad, who was dead set on havin' a lawyer in the family. But the more he + studied, the less he hankered for law. What he wanted to be was a + literature—a book-agent or a poet, or some such foolishness. Old + Sol, havin' no more use for a poet than he had for a poor relation, was + red hot in a minute. Was this what he'd been droppin' good money in the + education collection box for? Was this—etcetery and so on. He'd be—what + the church folks say he will be—if Fred don't go in for law. Fred, + he comes back that he'll be the same if he does. So they disowned each + other by mutual consent, as the Irishman said, and the boy marches out of + the front door, bag and baggage. And, as the poetry market seemed to be + sort of overly supplied at the present time, he decided he must do + somethin' to earn a dollar, and, seein' our ad, he comes to Wellmouth Port + and the Old Home. + </p> + <p> + “'But look here,' says I, 'we ain't got no job for a literary. We need + fellers to pass pie and wash dishes. And THAT ain't no poem.' + </p> + <p> + “Well, he thought perhaps he could help make up advertisin'. + </p> + <p> + “'You can't,' I told him. 'One time, when Peter T. Brown was away, me and + Cap'n Jonadab cal'lated that a poetry advertisement would be a good idee + and we managed to shake out ten lines or so. It begun: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “When you're feelin' tired and pale + To the Old Home House you ought to come without fail.” + </pre> + <p> + “'We thought 'twas pretty slick, but we never got but one answer, and that + was a circular from one of them correspondence schools of authors, sayin' + they'd let us in on a course at cut rates. And the next thing we knew we + see that poem in the joke page of a Boston paper. I never—' + </p> + <p> + “He laughed, quiet and sorrowful. He had the quietest way of speakin', + anyhow, and his voice was a lovely tenor. To hear it purrin' out of his + big, tall body was as unexpected as a hymn tune in a cent-in-the-slot + talkin' machine. + </p> + <p> + “'Too bad,' he says. 'As a waiter, I'm afraid—' + </p> + <p> + “Just then the door of one of the Annex houses opened sudden, and there + stood Grace Robinson. The light behind her showed her up plain as could + be. I heard Fred Bearse make a kind of gaspin' noise in his throat. + </p> + <p> + “'What a lovely night!' she says, half to herself. Then she calls: 'Papa, + dear, you really ought to see the stars.' + </p> + <p> + “Old man Robinson, who I judged was in the settin' room, snarled out + somethin' which wa'n't no compliment to the stars. Then he ordered her to + come in afore she catched cold. She sighed and obeyed orders, shuttin' the + door astern of her. Next thing I knew that literary tenor grabbed my arm—'twa'n't + no canary-bird grip, neither. + </p> + <p> + “'Who was that?' he whispers, eager. + </p> + <p> + “I told him. 'That's the name they give,' says I, 'but we have doubts + about its bein' the real one. You see, there's some mystery about them + Robinsons, and—' + </p> + <p> + “'I'll take that waiter's place,' he says, quick. 'Shall I go right in and + begin now? Don't stop to argue, man; I say I'll take it.' + </p> + <p> + “And he did take it by main strength, pretty nigh. Every time I'd open my + mouth he'd shut it up, and at last I give in, and showed him where he + could sleep. + </p> + <p> + “'You turn out at five sharp,' I told him. 'And you needn't bother to + write no poems while you're dressin', neither.' + </p> + <p> + “'Good night,' he answers, brisk. 'Go, will you, please? I want to think.' + </p> + <p> + “I went. 'Tain't until an hour later that I remembered he hadn't asked one + word concernin' the wages. And next mornin' he comes to me and suggests + that perhaps 'twould be as well if I didn't tell his real name. He was + pretty sure he'd been away schoolin' so long that he wouldn't be + recognized. 'And incognitos seem to be fashionable here,' he purrs, soft + and gentle. + </p> + <p> + “I wouldn't know an incognito if I stepped on one, but the tenor voice of + him kind of made me sick. + </p> + <p> + “'All right,' I snaps, sarcastic. 'Suppose I call you “Willie.” How'll + that do?' + </p> + <p> + “'Do as well as anything, I guess,' he says. Didn't make no odds to him. + If I'd have called him 'Maud,' he'd have been satisfied. + </p> + <p> + “He waited in Annex Number Two, which was skippered by Cap'n Jonadab. And, + for a poet, he done pretty well, so the Cap'n said. + </p> + <p> + “'But say, Barzilla,' asks Jonadab, 'does that Willie thing know the + Robinsons?' + </p> + <p> + “'Guess not,' I says. But, thinkin' of the way he'd acted when the girl + come to the door: 'Why?' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, nothin' much. Only when he come in with the doughnuts the fust + mornin' at breakfast, I thought Grace sort of jumped and looked funny. + Anyhow, she didn't eat nothin' after that. P'r'aps that was on account of + her bein' out sailin' the day afore, though.' + </p> + <p> + “I said I cal'lated that was it, but all the same I was interested. And + when, a day or so later, I see Grace and Willie talkin' together earnest, + out back of the kitchen, I was more so. But I never said nothin'. I've + been seafarin' long enough to know when to keep my main hatch closed. + </p> + <p> + “The supplementary season dragged along, but it wa'n't quite the success + it looked like at the start. The gunnin' that year was even worse than + usual, and excursions and picnics in late September ain't all joy, by no + manner of means. We shut up the second Annex at the end of the month, and + transferred the help to Number One. Precious few new boarders come, and a + good many of the old ones quit. Them that did stay, stayed on account of + the football. We was edgin' up toward the end of the series, and our team + and the Wapatomac crowd was neck and neck. It looked as if the final game + between them and us, over on their grounds, would settle who'd have the + soup tureen. + </p> + <p> + “Pa Robinson and Parker had been quite interested in Willie when he fust + come. They thought he might play with the eleven, you see. But he + wouldn't. Set his foot right down. + </p> + <p> + “'I don't care for athletics,' he says, mild but firm. 'They used to + interest me somewhat, but not now.' + </p> + <p> + “The old man was crazy. He'd heard about Willie's literature leanin's, and + he give out that he'd never see a writer yet that wa'n't a 'sissy.' Wanted + us to fire Bearse right off, but we kept him, thanks to me. If he'd seen + the 'sissy' kick the ball once, same as I did, it might have changed his + mind some. He was passin' along the end of the field when the gang was + practicin', and the ball come his way. He caught it on the fly, and sent + it back with his toe. It went a mile, seemed so, whirlin' and whizzin'. + Willie never even looked to see where it went; just kept on his course for + the kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “The big sensation hit us on the fifth of October, right after supper. Me + and Peter T. and Jonadab was in the office, when down comes Henry, old + Robinson's man servant, white as a sheet and wringin' his hands + distracted. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, I say, Mr. Brown!' says he, shakin' all over like a quicksand. 'Oh, + Mr. Brown, sir! Will you come right up to Mr. Sterz—I mean Mr. + Robinson's room, please, sir! 'E wants to see you gentlemen special. + 'Urry, please! 'Urry!' + </p> + <p> + “So we ''urried,' wonderin' what on earth was the matter. And when we got + to the Robinson rooms, there was Grace, lookin' awful pale, and the old + man himself ragin' up and down like a horse mack'rel in a fish weir. + </p> + <p> + “Soon as papa sees us, he jumped up in the air, so's to speak, and when he + lit 'twas right on our necks. His daughter, who seemed to be the sanest + one in the lot, run and shut the door. + </p> + <p> + “'Look here, you!' raved the old gent, shakin' both fists under Peter T.'s + nose. 'Didn't you tell me this was a respectable hotel? And ain't we + payin' for respectability?' + </p> + <p> + “Peter admitted it, bein' too much set back to argue, I cal'late. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes!' rages Robinson. 'We pay enough for all the respectability in this + state. And yet, by the livin' Moses! I can't go out of my room to spoil my + digestion with your cussed dried-apple pie, but what I'm robbed!' + </p> + <p> + “'Robbed!' the three of us gurgles in chorus. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, sir! Robbed! Robbed! ROBBED! What do you think I came here for? And + why do I stay here all this time? 'Cause I LIKE it? 'Cause I can't afford + a better place? No, sir! By the great horn spoon! I come here because I + thought in this forsaken hole I could get lost and be safe. And now—' + </p> + <p> + “He tore around like a water spout, Grace trying to calm him, and Henry + and Suzette, the maid, groanin' and sobbin' accompaniments in the corner. + I looked at the dresser. There was silver-backed brushes and all sorts of + expensive doodads spread out loose, and Miss Robinson's watch and a + di'mond ring, and a few other knickknacks. I couldn't imagine a thief's + leavin' all that truck, and I said so. + </p> + <p> + “'Them?' sputters Pa, frantic. 'What the brimstone blazes do you think I + care for them? I could buy that sort of stuff by the car-load, if I wanted + to. But what's been stole is—Oh, get out and leave me alone! You're + no good, the lot of you!' + </p> + <p> + “'Father has had a valuable paper stolen from him,' explains Grace. 'A + very valuable paper.' + </p> + <p> + “'Valuable!' howls her dad. 'VALUABLE! Why, if Gordon and his gang get + that paper, they've got ME, that's all. Their suit's as good as won, and I + know it. And to think that I've kept it safe up to within a month of the + trial, and now—Grace Sterzer, you stop pattin' my head. I'm no + pussy-cat! By the—' And so on, indefinite. + </p> + <p> + “When he called his daughter Sterzer, instead of Robinson, I cal'lated he + was loony, sure enough. But Peter T. slapped his leg. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh!' he says, as if he'd seen a light all to once. 'Ah, NOW I begin to + get wise. I knew your face was—See here, Mr. Sterzer—Mr. + Gabriel Sterzer—don't you think we'd better have a real, plain talk + on this matter? Let's get down to tacks. Was the paper you lost something + to do with the Sterzer-Gordon lawsuit? The Aluminum Trust case, you know?' + </p> + <p> + “The old man stopped dancin', stared at him hard, and then set down and + wiped his forehead. + </p> + <p> + “'Something to DO with it?' he groans. 'Why, you idiot, it was IT! If + Gordon's lawyers get that paper—and they've been after it for a year—then + the fat's all in the fire. There's nothin' left for me to do but + compromise.' + </p> + <p> + “When Peter T. mentioned the name of Gabriel Sterzer, me and Jonadab begun + to see a light, too. 'Course you remember the bust-up of the Aluminum + Trust—everybody does. The papers was full of it. There'd been a row + among the two leadin' stockholders, Gabe Sterzer and 'Major' Gordon. Them + two double-back-action millionaires practically owned the trust, and the + state 'twas in, and the politics of that state, and all the politicians. + Each of 'em run three or four banks of their own, and a couple of + newspapers, and other things, till you couldn't rest. Then they had the + row, and Gabe had took his playthings and gone home, as you might say. + Among the playthings was a majority of the stock, and the Major had sued + for it. The suit, with pictures of the leadin' characters and the lawyers + and all, had been spread-eagled in the papers everywheres. No wonder + 'Robinson's' face was familiar. + </p> + <p> + “But it seemed that Sterzer had held the trump card in the shape of the + original agreement between him and Gordon. And he hung on to it like the + Old Scratch to a fiddler. Gordon and his crowd had done everything, short + of murder, to get it; hired folks to steal it, and so on, because, once + they DID get it, Gabe hadn't a leg to stand on—he'd have to divide + equal, which wa'n't his desires, by a good sight. The Sterzer lawyers had + wanted him to leave it in their charge, but no—he knew too much for + that. The pig-headed old fool had carted it with him wherever he went, and + him and his daughter had come to the Old Home House because he figgered + nobody would think of their bein' in such an out-of-the-way place as that. + But they HAD thought of it. Anyhow, the paper was gone. + </p> + <p> + “'But Mr. Robinzer—Sterson, I mean—' cut in Cap'n Jonadab, + 'you could have 'em took up for stealin', couldn't you? They wouldn't dare—' + </p> + <p> + “''Course they'd dare! S'pose they don't know I wouldn't have that + agreement get in the papers? Dare! They'd dare anything. If they get away + with it, by hook or crook, all I can do is haul in my horns and + compromise. If they've got that paper, the suit never comes to trial.' + </p> + <p> + “'Well, they ain't got it yet,' says Peter, decided. 'Whoever stole the + thing is right here in this boardin'-house, and it's up to us to see that + they stay here. Barzilla, you take care of the mail. No letters must go + out to-night. Jonadab, you set up and watch all hands, help and all. + Nobody must leave this place, if we have to tie em. And I'll keep a + gen'ral overseein' of the whole thing, till we get a detective. And—if + you'll stand the waybill, Mr. Sterzer—we'll have the best Pinkerton + in Boston down here in three hours by special train. By the way, are you + sure the thing IS lifted? Where was it?' + </p> + <p> + “Old Gabe kind of colored up, and give in that 'twas under his pillow. He + always kept it there after the beds was made. + </p> + <p> + “'Humph!' grunts Brown. 'Why didn't you hang it on the door-knob? Under + the pillow! If I was a sneak thief, the first place I'd look would be + under the pillow; after that I'd tackle the jewelry box and the safe.' + </p> + <p> + “There was consider'ble more talk. Seems the Sterzers had left Henry on + guard, same as they always done, when they went to supper. They could + trust him and Suzette absolute, they said. But Henry had gone down the + hall after a drink of water, and when he had got back everything + apparently was all right. 'Twa'n't till Gabe himself come up that he found + the paper gone. I judged he'd made it interestin' for Henry; the poor + critter looked that way. + </p> + <p> + “All hands agreed to keep mum for the present and to watch. Peter hustled + to the office and called up the Pinkertons over the long distance.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wingate paused. Captain Sol was impatient. + </p> + <p> + “Go on,” he said. “Don't stop now, I'm gettin' anxious.” + </p> + <p> + Barzilla rose to his feet. “Here's your McKay man back again,” he said. + “Let's go up to your house and have breakfast. We can talk while we're + eatin'. I'm empty as a poorhouse boarder's pocketbook.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0006" id="link2HCH0006"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VI + </h2> + <h3> + AVIATION AND AVARICE + </h3> + <p> + Breakfast at Capt. Sol Berry's was a bountiful meal. The depot master + employed a middle-aged woman who came in each day, cooked his meals and + did the housework, returning to her own home at night. After Mr. Wingate + had mowed a clean swath through ham and eggs, cornbread and coffee, and + had reached the cooky and doughnut stage, he condescended to speak further + concerning the stolen paper. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he said, “Brown give me and Jonadab a serious talkin' to when he + got us alone.” + </p> + <p> + “'Now, fellers,' he says, 'we know what we've got to do. Nothin'll be too + good for this shebang and us if we get that agreement back. Fust place, + the thing was done a few minutes after the supper-bell rung. That is, + unless that 'Enry is in on the deal, which ain't unlikely, considerin' the + price he could get from the Gordon gang. Was anybody late at the tables?' + </p> + <p> + “Why, yes; there were quite a few late. Two of the 'gunners,' who'd been + on a forlorn-hope duck hunt; and a minister and his wife, out walkin' for + their health; and Parker and two fellers from the football team, who'd + been practicin'. + </p> + <p> + “'Any of the waiters or the chambermaids?' asked Peter. + </p> + <p> + “I'd been expectin' he'd ask that, and I hated to answer. + </p> + <p> + “'One of the waiters was a little late,' says I. 'Willie wa'n't on hand + immediate. Said he went to wash his hands.' + </p> + <p> + “Now the help gen'rally washed in the fo'castle—the servants' + quarters, I mean—but there was a wash room on the floor where the + Sterzer-Robinsons roomed. Peter looked at Jonadab, and the two of 'em at + me. And I had to own up that Willie had come downstairs from that wash + room a few minutes after the bell rung. + </p> + <p> + “'Hum!' says Peter T. 'Hum!' he says. 'Look here, Barzilla, didn't you + tell me you knew that feller's real name, and that he had been studying + law?' + </p> + <p> + “'No,' says I, emphatic. 'I said 'twas law he was tryin' to get away from. + His tastes run large to literation and poetry.' + </p> + <p> + “'Hum!' says Peter again. 'All papers are more or less literary—even + trust agreements. Hum!' + </p> + <p> + “'All the same,' says I, 'I'll bet my Sunday beaver that HE never took + it.' + </p> + <p> + “They didn't answer, but looked solemn. Then the three of us went on + watch. + </p> + <p> + “Nobody made a move to go out that evenin'. I kept whatever mail was + handed in, but there was nothin' that looked like any agreements, and + nothin' addressed to Gordon or his lawyers. At twelve or so, the detective + come. Peter drove up to the depot to meet the special. He told the whole + yarn on the way down. + </p> + <p> + “The detective was a nice enough chap, and we agreed he should be 'Mr. + Snow,' of New York, gunnin' for health and ducks. He said the watch must + be kept up all night, and in the mornin' he'd make his fust move. So said, + so done. + </p> + <p> + “And afore breakfast that next mornin' we called everybody into the dinin' + room, boarders, help, stable hands, every last one. And Peter made a + little speech. He said that a very valuable paper had been taken out of + Mr. Robinson's room, and 'twas plain that it must be on the premises + somewhere. 'Course, nobody was suspicioned, but, speakin' for himself, + he'd feel better if his clothes and his room was searched through. How'd + the rest feel about it? + </p> + <p> + “Well, they felt diff'rent ways, but Parker spoke up like a brick, and + said he wouldn't rest easy till HIS belongin's was pawed over, and then + the rest fell in line. We went through everybody and every room on the + place. Found nothin', of course. Snow—the detective—said he + didn't expect to. But I tell you there was some talkin' goin' on, just the + same. The minister, he hinted that he had some doubts about them + dissipated gunners; and the gunners cal'lated they never see a parson yet + wouldn't bear watchin'. As for me, I felt like a pickpocket, and, judgin' + from Jonadab's face, he felt the same. + </p> + <p> + “The detective man swooped around quiet, bobbin' up in unexpected places, + like a porpoise, and askin' questions once in a while. He asked about most + everybody, but about Willie, especial. I judged Peter T. had dropped a + hint to him and to Gabe. Anyhow, the old critter give out that he wouldn't + trust a poet with the silver handles on his grandmarm's coffin. As for + Grace, she acted dreadful nervous and worried. Once I caught her swabbin' + her eyes, as if she'd been cryin'; but I'd never seen her and Willie + together but the one time I told you of. + </p> + <p> + “Four days and nights crawled by. No symptoms yet. The Pinkertons was + watchin' the Gordon lawyers' office in New York, and they reported that + nothin' like that agreement had reached there. And our own man—Snow—said + he'd go bail it hadn't been smuggled off the premises sense HE struck + port. So 'twas safe so far; but where was it, and who had it? + </p> + <p> + “The final football game, the one with Wapatomac, was to be played over on + their grounds on the afternoon of the fifth day. Parker, cap'n of the + eleven, give out that, considerin' everything, he didn't know but we'd + better call it off. Old Robinson—Sterzer, of course—wouldn't + hear of it. + </p> + <p> + “'Not much,' says he. 'I wouldn't chance your losin' that game for forty + papers. You sail in and lick 'em!' or words to that effect. + </p> + <p> + “So the eleven was to cruise across the bay in the Greased Lightnin', + Peter's little motor launch, and the rooters was to go by train later on. + 'Twas Parker's idee, goin' in the launch. 'Twould be more quiet, less + strain on the nerves of his men, and they could talk over plays and + signals on the v'yage. + </p> + <p> + “So at nine o'clock in the forenoon they was ready, the whole team—three + waiters, two fishermen, one carpenter from up to Wellmouth Center, a + stable hand, and Parker and three reg'lar boarders. These last three was + friends of Parker's that he'd had come down some time afore. He knew they + could play football, he said, and they'd come to oblige him. + </p> + <p> + “The eleven gathered on the front porch, all in togs and sweaters, + principally provided and paid for by Sterzer. Cap'n Parker had the ball + under his arm, and the launch was waitin' ready at the landin'. All the + boarders—except Grace, who was upstairs in her room—and most + of the help was standin' round to say good luck and good-by. + </p> + <p> + “Snow, the detective, was there, and I whispered in his ear. + </p> + <p> + “'Say,' I says, 'do you realize that for the fust time since the robbery + here's a lot of folks leavin' the house? How do you know but what—' + </p> + <p> + “He winked and nodded brisk. 'I'll attend to that,' he says. + </p> + <p> + “But he didn't have to. Parker spoke fust, and took the wind out of his + sails. + </p> + <p> + “'Gentlemen,' says he, 'I don't know how the rest of you feel, but, as for + me, I don't start without clear skirts. I suggest that Mr. Brown and Mr. + Wingate here search each one of us, thoroughly. Who knows,' says he, + laughin', 'but what I've got that precious stolen paper tucked inside my + sweater? Ha! ha! Come on, fellers! I'll be first.' + </p> + <p> + “He tossed the ball into a chair and marched into the office, the rest of + the players after him, takin' it as a big joke. And there the searchin' + was done, and done thorough, 'cause Peter asked Mr. Snow to help, and he + knew how. One thing was sure; Pa Gabe's agreement wa'n't hid about the + persons of that football team. Everybody laughed—that is, all but + the old man and the detective. Seemed to me that Snow was kind of + disappointed, and I couldn't see why. 'Twa'n't likely any of THEM was + thieves. + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Parker picked up his football and started off for the launch. He'd + got about ha'fway to the shore when Willie—who'd been stand-in' with + the rest of the help, lookin' on—stepped for'ard pretty brisk and + whispered in the ear of the Pinkerton man. The detective jumped, sort of, + and looked surprised and mighty interested. + </p> + <p> + “'By George!' says he. 'I never thought of that.' Then he run to the edge + of the piazza and called. + </p> + <p> + “'Mr. Parker!' he sings out. 'Oh, Mr. Parker!' + </p> + <p> + “Parker was at the top of the little rise that slopes away down to the + landin'. The rest of the eleven was scattered from the shore to the hotel + steps. He turns, without stoppin', and answers. + </p> + <p> + “'What is it?' he sings out, kind of impatient. + </p> + <p> + “'There's just one thing we forgot to look at,' shouts Snow. 'Merely a + matter of form, but just bring that—Hey! Stop him! Stop him!' + </p> + <p> + “For Parker, instead of comin' back, had turned and was leggin' it for the + launch as fast as he could, and that was some. + </p> + <p> + “'Stop!' roars the Pinkerton man, jumpin' down the steps. 'Stop, or—' + </p> + <p> + “'Hold him, Jim!' screeched Parker, over his shoulder. One of the biggest + men on the eleven—one of the three 'friends' who'd been so obligin' + as to come down on purpose to play football—made a dive, caught the + detective around the waist, and threw him flat. + </p> + <p> + “'Go on, Ed!' he shouts. 'I've got him, all right.' + </p> + <p> + “Ed—meanin' Parker—was goin' on, and goin' fast. All hands + seemed to be frozen stiff, me and Jonadab and Peter T. included. As for + me, I couldn't make head nor tail of the doin's; things was comin' too + quick for MY understandin'. + </p> + <p> + “But there was one on that piazza who wa'n't froze. Fur from it! Willie, + the poet waiter, made a jump, swung his long legs over the porch-rail, hit + the ground, and took after that Parker man like a cat after a field mouse. + </p> + <p> + “Run! I never see such runnin'! He fairly flashed across that lawn and + over the rise. Parker was almost to the landin'; two more jumps and he'd + been aboard the launch. If he'd once got aboard, a turn of the switch and + that electric craft would have had him out of danger in a shake. But them + two jumps was two too many. Willie riz off the ground like a flyin' + machine, turned his feet up and his head down, and lapped his arms around + Parker's knees. Down the pair of 'em went 'Ker-wallop!' and the football + flew out of Parker's arms. + </p> + <p> + “In an eyewink that poet was up, grabs the ball, and comes tearin' back + toward us. + </p> + <p> + “'Stop him!' shrieks Parker from astern. + </p> + <p> + “'Head him off! Tackle him!' bellers the big chap who was hangin' onto the + detective. + </p> + <p> + “They tell me that discipline and obeyin' orders is as much in football as + 'tis aboard ship. If that's so, every one of the Old Home House eleven was + onto their jobs. There was five men between Willie and the hotel, and they + all bore down on him like bats on a June bug. + </p> + <p> + “'Get him!' howls Parker, racin' to help. + </p> + <p> + “'Down him!' chimes in big Jim, his knee in poor Snow's back. + </p> + <p> + “'Run, Bearse! Run!' whoops the Pinkerton man, liftin' his mouth out of + the sand. + </p> + <p> + “He run—don't you worry about that! Likewise he dodged. One chap + swooped at him, and he ducked under his arms. Another made a dive, and he + jumped over him. The third one he pushed one side with his hand. 'Pushed!' + did I say? 'Knocked' would be better, for the feller—the carpenter + 'twas—went over and over like a barrel rollin' down hill. But there + was two more left, and one of 'em was bound to have him. + </p> + <p> + “Then a window upstairs banged open. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, Mr. Bearse!' screamed a voice—Grace Sterzer's voice. 'Don't + let them get you!' + </p> + <p> + “We all heard her, in spite of the shoutin' and racket. Willie heard her, + too. The two fellers, one at each side, was almost on him, when he + stopped, looked up, jumped back, and, as cool as a rain barrel in January, + he dropped that ball and kicked it. + </p> + <p> + “I can see that picture now, like a tableau at a church sociable. The + fellers that was runnin', the others on the ground, and that literary pie + passer with his foot swung up to his chin. + </p> + <p> + “And the ball! It sailed up and up in a long curve, began to drop, passed + over the piazza roof, and out of sight. + </p> + <p> + “'Lock your door, Miss Sterzer,' sung out Fred Bearse—'Willie' for + short. 'Lock your door and keep that ball. I think your father's paper is + inside it.' + </p> + <p> + “As sure as my name is Barzilla Wingate, he had kicked that football + straight through the open window into old Gabe's room.” + </p> + <p> + The depot master whooped and slapped his knee. Mr. Wingate grinned + delightedly and continued: + </p> + <p> + “There!” he went on, “the cat's out of the bag, and there ain't much more + to tell. Everybody made a bolt for the room, old Gabe and Peter T. in the + lead. Grace let her dad in, and the ball was ripped open in a hurry. Sure + enough! Inside, between the leather and the rubber, was the missin' + agreement. Among the jubilations and praise services nobody thought of + much else until Snow, the Pinkerton man, come upstairs, his clothes tore + and his eyes and nose full of sand. + </p> + <p> + “'Humph!' says he. 'You've got it, hey? Good! Well, you haven't got friend + Parker. Look!' + </p> + <p> + “Such of us as could looked out of the window. There was the launch, with + Parker and his three 'friends' in it, headin' two-forty for blue water. + </p> + <p> + “'Let 'em go,' says old Gabe, contented. 'I wouldn't arrest 'em if I + could. This is no police-station job.' + </p> + <p> + “It come out afterwards that Parker was a young chap just from law school, + who had gone to work for the firm of shysters who was attendin' to the + Gordon interests. They had tracked Sterzer to the Old Home House, and had + put their new hand on the job of gettin' that agreement. Fust he'd tried + to shine up to Grace, but the shine—her part of it—had wore + off. Then he decided to steal it; and he done it, just how nobody knows. + Snow, the detective, says he cal'lates Henry, the servant, is wiser'n most + folks thinks, fur's that's concerned. + </p> + <p> + “Snow had found out about Parker inside of two days. Soon's he got the + report as to who he was, he was morally sartin that he was the thief. He'd + looked up Willie's record, too, and that was clear. In fact, Willie helped + him consider'ble. 'Twas him that recognized Parker, havin' seen him play + on a law-school team. Also 'twas Willie who thought of the paper bein' in + the football. + </p> + <p> + “Land of love! What a hero they made of that waiter! + </p> + <p> + “'By the livin' Moses!' bubbles old Gabe, shakin' both the boy's hands. + 'That was the finest run and tackle and the finest kick I ever saw + anywhere. I've seen every big game for ten years, and I never saw anything + half so good.' + </p> + <p> + “The Pinkerton man laughed. 'There's only one chap on earth who can kick + like that. Here he is,' layin' his hand on 'Willie's' shoulder. Bearse, + the All-American half-back last year.' + </p> + <p> + “Gabe's mouth fell open. 'Not “Bung” Bearse, of Yarvard!' he sings out. + 'Why! WHY!' + </p> + <p> + “'Of course, father!' purrs his daughter, smilin' and happy. 'I knew him + at once. He and I were—er—slightly acquainted when I was at + Highcliffe.' + </p> + <p> + “'But—but “Bung” Bearse!' gasps the old gent. 'Why, you rascal! I + saw you kick the goal that beat Haleton. Your reputation is worldwide.' + </p> + <p> + “Willie—Fred Bearse, that is—shook his head, sad and + regretful. + </p> + <p> + “'Thank you, Mr. Sterzer,' says he, in his gentle tenor. 'I have no desire + to be famous in athletics. My aspirations now are entirely literary.' + </p> + <p> + “Well, he's got his literary job at last, bein' engaged as sportin' editor + on one of Gabe's papers. His dad, old Sol Bearse, seems to be pretty well + satisfied, partic'lar as another engagement between the Bearse family and + the Sterzers has just been given out.” + </p> + <p> + Barzilla helped himself to another doughnut. His host leaned back in his + chair and laughed uproariously. + </p> + <p> + “Well, by the great and mighty!” he exclaimed, “that Willie chap certainly + did fool you, didn't he. You can't always tell about these college + critters. Sometimes they break out unexpected, like chickenpox in the 'Old + Men's Home.' Ha! ha! Say, do you know Nate Scudder?” + </p> + <p> + “Know him? Course I know him! The meanest man on the Cape, and livin' + right in my own town, too! Well, if I didn't know him I might trust him, + and that would be the beginnin' of the end—for me.” + </p> + <p> + “It sartin would. But what made me think of him was what he told me about + his nephew, who was a college chap, consider'ble like your 'Willie,' I + jedge. Nate and this nephew, Augustus Tolliver, was mixed up in that + flyin'-machine business, you remember.” + </p> + <p> + “I know they was. Mixed up with that Professor Dixland the papers are + makin' such a fuss over. Wellmouth's been crazy over it all, but it + happened a year ago and nobody that I know of has got the straight inside + facts about it yet. Nate won't talk at all. Whenever you ask him he busts + out swearin' and walks off. His wife's got such a temper that nobody dared + ask her, except the minister. He tried it, and ain't been the same man + since.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” the depot master smilingly scratched his chin, “I cal'late I've + got those inside facts.” + </p> + <p> + “You HAVE?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Nate gave 'em to me, under protest. You see, I know Nate pretty + well. I know some things about him that . . . but never mind that part. I + asked him and, at last, he told me. I'll have to tell you in his words, + 'cause half the fun was the way he told it and the way he looked at the + whole business. So you can imagine I'm Nate, and—” + </p> + <p> + “'Twill be a big strain on my imagination to b'lieve you're Nate Scudder, + Sol Berry.” + </p> + <p> + “Thanks. However, you'll have to do it for a spell. Well, Nate said that + it really begun when the Professor and Olivia landed at the Wellmouth + depot with the freight car full of junk. Of course, the actual beginnin' + was further back than that, when that Harmon man come on from Philadelphy + and hunted him up, makin' proclamation that a friend of his, a Mr. Van + Brunt of New York, had said that Scudder had a nice quiet island to let + and maybe he could hire it. + </p> + <p> + “Course Nate had an island—that little sun-dried sandbank a mile or + so off shore, abreast his house, which we used to call 'Horsefoot Bar.' + That crazy Van Brunt and his chum, Hartley, who lived there along with Sol + Pratt a year or so ago, re-christened it 'Ozone Island,' you remember. + Nate was willin' to let it. He'd let Tophet, if he owned it, and a fool + come along who wanted to hire it and could pay for the rent and heat. + </p> + <p> + “So Nate and this Harmon feller rowed over to the Bar—to Ozone + Island, I mean—and the desolation and loneliness of it seemed to + suit him to perfection. So did the old house and big barn and all the + tumbledown buildin's stuck there in the beach-grass and sand. Afore they'd + left they made a dicker. He wa'n't the principal in it. He was the private + secretary and fust mate of Mr. Professor Ansel Hobart Dixland, the + scientist—perhaps Scudder'd heard of him? + </p> + <p> + “Perhaps he had, but if so, Nate forgot it, though he didn't tell him + that. Harmon ordered a fifteen-foot-high board fence built all around the + house and barn, and made Nate swear not to tell a soul who was comin' nor + anything. Dixland might want the island two months, he said, or he might + want it two years. Nate didn't care. He was in for good pickin's, and + begun to pick by slicin' a liberal commission off that fencebuildin' job. + There was a whole passel of letters back and forth between Nate and + Harmon, and finally Nate got word to meet the victims at the depot. + </p> + <p> + “There was the professor himself, an old dried-up relic with whiskers and + a temper; and there was Miss Olivia Dixland, his niece and housekeeper, a + slim, plain lookin' girl, who wore eyeglasses and a straight up and down + dress. And there was a freight car full of crates and boxes and land knows + what all. But nary sign was there of a private secretary and assistant. + The professor told Nate that Mr. Harmon's health had suddenly broke down + and he'd had to be sent South. + </p> + <p> + “'It's a calamity,' says he; 'a real calamity! Harmon has been with me in + my work from the beginnin'; and now, just as it is approachin' completion, + he is taken away. They say he may die. It is very annoyin'.' + </p> + <p> + “'Humph!' says Nate. 'Well, maybe it annoys HIM some, too; you can't tell. + What you goin' to do for a secretary?' + </p> + <p> + “'I understand,' says the professor, 'that there is a person of + consider'ble scientific attainment residin' with you, Mr. Scudder, at + present. Harmon met him while he was here; they were in the same class at + college. Harmon recommended him highly. Olivia,' he says to the niece, + 'what was the name of the young man whom Harmon recommended?' + </p> + <p> + “'Tolliver, Uncle Ansel,' answers the girl, lookin' kind of disdainful at + Nate. Somehow he had the notion that she didn't take to him fust rate. + </p> + <p> + “'Hey?' sings out Nate. 'Tolliver? Why, that's Augustus! AUGUSTUS! well, + I'll be switched!' + </p> + <p> + “Augustus Tolliver was Nate's nephew from up Boston way. Him and Nate was + livin' together at that time. Huldy Ann, Mrs. Scudder, was out West, in + Omaha, takin' care of a cousin of hers who was a chronic invalid and, + what's more to the purpose, owned a lot of stock in copper mines. + </p> + <p> + “Augustus was a freckle-faced, spindle-shanked little critter, with + spectacles and a soft, polite way of speakin' that made you want to build + a fire under him to see if he could swear like a Christian. He had a big + head with consider'ble hair on the top of it and nothin' underneath but + what he called 'science' and 'sociology.' His science wa'n't nothin' but + tommy-rot to Nate, and the 'sociology' was some kind of drivel about + everybody bein' equal to everybody else, or better. 'Seemed to think 'twas + wrong to get a good price for a thing when you found a feller soft enough + to pay it. Did you ever hear the beat of that in your life?' says Nate. + </p> + <p> + “However, Augustus had soaked so much science and sociology into that weak + noddle of his that they kind of made him drunk, as you might say, and the + doctor had sent him down to board with the Scudders and sleep it off. + 'Nervous prostration' was the way he had his symptoms labeled, and the + nerve part was all right, for if a hen flew at him he'd holler and run. + Scart! you never see such a scart cat in your born days. Scart of a boat, + scart of being seasick, scart of a gun, scart of everything! Most special + he was scart of Uncle Nate. The said uncle kept him that way so's he + wouldn't dast to kick at the grub him and Huldy Ann give him, I guess. + </p> + <p> + “'Augustus Tolliver,' says old Dixland, noddin'. 'Yes, that is the name. + Has he had a sound scientific trainin'?' + </p> + <p> + “'Scientific trainin'!' says Nate. 'Scientific trainin'? Why, you bet he's + had it! That's the only kind of trainin' he HAS had. He'll be just the + feller for you, Mr. Dixland.' + </p> + <p> + “So that was settled, all but notifyin' Augustus. But Scudder sighted + another speculation in the offin', and hove alongside of it. + </p> + <p> + “'Mr. Harmon, when he was here,' says he, 'he mentioned you needin' a + nice, dependable man to live on the island and be sort of general + roustabout. My wife bein' away just now, and all, it struck me that I + might as well be that man. Maybe my terms'll seem a little high, at fust + mention, but—' + </p> + <p> + “'Very good,' says the professor, 'very good. I'm sure you'll be + satisfactory. Now please see to the unloading of that car. And be careful, + VERY careful.' + </p> + <p> + “Nate broke the news to Augustus that afternoon. He had his nose stuck in + a book, as usual, and never heard, so Nate yelled at him like a mate on a + tramp steamer, just to keep in trainin'. + </p> + <p> + “'Who? Who? Who? What? What?' squeals Augustus, jumpin' out of the chair + as if there was pins in it. 'What is it? Who did it? Oh, my poor nerves!' + </p> + <p> + “'Drat your poor nerves!' Nate says. 'I've got a good promisin' job for + you. Listen to this.' + </p> + <p> + “Then he told about the professor's wantin' Gus to be assistant and help + do what the old man called 'experiments.' + </p> + <p> + “'Dixland?' says Gus, 'Ansel Hobart Dixland, the great scientist! And I'm + to be HIS assistant? Assistant to the man who discovered DIXIUM and + invented—' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, belay there!' snorts Nate, impatient. Tell me this—he's awful + rich, ain't he?' + </p> + <p> + “'Why, I believe—yes, Harmon said he was. But to think of MY bein'—' + </p> + <p> + “'Now, nephew,' Nate cut in, 'let me talk to you a minute. Me and your + Aunt Huldy Ann have been mighty kind to you sence you've been here, and + here's your chance to do us a good turn. You stick close to science and + the professor and let me attend to the finances. If this family ain't well + off pretty soon it won't be your Uncle Nate's fault. Only don't you put + your oar in where 'tain't needed.' + </p> + <p> + “Lord love you, Gus didn't care about finances. He was so full of joy at + bein' made assistant to the great Ansel Whiskers Dixland that he forgot + everything else, nerves and all. + </p> + <p> + “So in another day the four of 'em was landed on Ozone Island and so was + the freight-car load of crates and boxes. Grub and necessaries was to be + provided by Scudder—for salary as stated and commission understood. + </p> + <p> + “It took Nate less than a week to find out what old Dixland was up to. + When he learned it, he set down in the sand and fairly snorted disgust. + The old idiot was cal'latin' to FLY. Seems that for years he'd been + experimentin' with what he called 'aeroplanes,' and now he'd reached the + stage where he b'lieved he could flap his wings and soar. 'Thinks I,' says + Nate, 'your life work's cut out for you, Nate Scudder. You'll spend the + rest of your days as gen'ral provider for the Ozone private asylum.' Well, + Scudder wa'n't complainin' none at the outlook. He couldn't make a good + livin' no easier. + </p> + <p> + “The aeroplane was in sections in them boxes and crates. Nate and Augustus + and the professor got out the sections and fitted 'em together. The + buildin's on Ozone was all joined together—first the house, then the + ell, then the wash-rooms and big sheds, and, finally, the barn. There was + doors connectin', and you could go from house to barn, both downstairs and + up, without steppin' outside once. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas in the barn that they built what Whiskers called the 'flyin' + stage.' 'Twas a long chute arrangement on trestles, and the idea was that + the aeroplane was to get her start by slidin' down the chute, out through + the big doors and off by the atmosphere route to glory. I say that was the + IDEA. In practice she worked different. + </p> + <p> + “Twice the professor made proclamations that everything was ready, and + twice they started that flyin' machine goin'. The fust time Dixland was at + the helm, and him and the aeroplane dropped headfust into the sandbank + just outside the barn. The machine was underneath, and the pieces of it + acted as a fender, so all the professor fractured was his temper. But it + took ten days to get the contraption ready for the next fizzle. Then poor, + shaky, scart Augustus was pilot, and he went so deep into the bank that + Nate says he wondered whether 'twas wuth while doin' anything but orderin' + the gravestone. But they dug him out at last, whole, but frightened blue, + and his nerves was worse than ever after that. + </p> + <p> + “Then old Dixland announces that he has discovered somethin' wrong in the + principle of the thing, and they had to wait while he ordered some new + fittin's from Boston. + </p> + <p> + “Meanwhile there was other complications settin' in. Scudder was kept busy + providin' grub and such like and helpin' the niece, Olivia, with the + housework. Likewise he had his hands full keepin' the folks alongshore + from findin' out what was goin' on. All this flyin' foolishness had to be + a dead secret. + </p> + <p> + “But, busy as he was, he found time to notice the thick acquaintance that + was developin' between Augustus and Olivia. Them two was what the minister + calls 'kindred sperrits.' Seems she was sufferin' from science same as he + was and, more'n that, she was loaded to the gunwale with 'social reform.' + To hear the pair of 'em go on about helpin' the poor and 'settlement work' + and such was enough, accordin' to Nate, to make you leave the table. But + there! He couldn't complain. Olivia was her uncle's only heir, and Nate + could see a rainbow of promise ahead for the Scudder family. + </p> + <p> + “The niece was a nice, quiet girl. The only thing Nate had against her, + outside of the sociology craziness and her not seemin' to take a shine to + him, was her confounded pets. Nate said he never had no use for pets—lazy + critters, eatin' up the victuals and costin' money—but Olivia was + dead gone on 'em. She adopted an old reprobate of a tom-cat, which she + labeled 'Galileo,' after an Eyetalian who invented spyglasses or somethin' + similar, and a great big ugly dog that answered to the hail of 'Phillips + Brooks'; she named him that because she said the original Phillips was a + distinguished parson and a great philanthropist. + </p> + <p> + “That dog was a healthy philanthropist. When Nate kicked him the first + time, he chased him the whole length of the barn. After that they had to + keep him chained up. He was just pinin' for a chance to swaller Scudder + whole, and he showed it. + </p> + <p> + “Well, as time went on, Olivia and Augustus got chummier and chummier. + Nate give 'em all the chance possible to be together, and as for old + Professor Whiskers, all he thought of, anyway, was his blessed flyin' + machine. So things was shapin' themselves well, 'cordin' to Scudder's + notion. + </p> + <p> + “One afternoon Nate come, unexpected, to the top of a sand hill at t'other + end of the island, and there, below, set Olivia and Augustus. He had a + clove hitch 'round her waist, and they was lookin' into each other's + spectacles as if they was windows in the pearly gates. Thinks Nate: + 'They've signed articles,' and he tiptoed away, feelin' that life wa'n't + altogether an empty dream. + </p> + <p> + “They was lively hours, them that followed. To begin with, when Nate got + back to the barn he found the professor layin' on the floor, under the + flyin' stage, groanin' soulful but dismal. He'd slipped off one of the + braces of the trestles and sprained both wrists and bruised himself till + he wa'n't much more than one big lump. He hadn't bruised his tongue none + to speak of, though, and his language wa'n't sprained so that you'd notice + it. What broke him up most of all was that he'd got his aeroplane ready to + 'fly' again, and now he was knocked out so's he couldn't be aboard when + she went off the ways. + </p> + <p> + “'It is the irony of fate,' says he. + </p> + <p> + “'I got it off the blacksmith over to Wellmouth Centre,' Nate told him; + 'but HE might have got it from Fate, or whoever you mean. 'Twas slippery + iron, I know that, and I warned you against steppin' on it yesterday.' + </p> + <p> + “The professor more'n hinted that Nate was a dunderhead idiot, and then he + commenced to holler for Tolliver; he wanted to see Tolliver right off. + Scudder thought he'd ought to see a doctor, but he wouldn't, so Nate + plastered him up best he could, got him into the big chair in the front + room, and went huntin' Augustus. Him and Olivia was still camped in the + sand bank. Gus's right arm had got tired by this time, I cal'late, but he + had a new hitch with his left. Likewise they was still starin' into each + other's specs. + </p> + <p> + “'Excuse me for interruptin' the mesmerism,' says Nate, 'but the professor + wants to see you.' + </p> + <p> + “They jumped and broke away. But it took more'n that to bring 'em down out + of the clouds. They'd been flyin' a good sight higher than the old + aeroplane had yet. + </p> + <p> + “'Uncle Nathan,' says Augustus, gettin' up and shakin' hands, 'I have the + most wonderful news for you. It's hardly believable. You'll never guess + it.' + </p> + <p> + “'Give me three guesses and I'll win on the fust,' says Nate. 'You two are + engaged.' + </p> + <p> + “They looked at him as if he'd done somethin' wonderful. 'But, Uncle,' + says Gus, shakin' hands again, 'just think! she's actually consented to + marry me.' + </p> + <p> + “'Well, that's gen'rally understood to be a part of engagin', ain't it?' + says Nate. 'I'm glad to hear it. Miss Dixland, I congratulate you. You've + got a fine, promisin' young man.' + </p> + <p> + “That, to Nate's notion, was about the biggest lie he ever told, but + Olivia swallered it for gospel. She seemed to thaw toward Scudder a little + mite, but 'twa'n't at a permanent melt, by no means. + </p> + <p> + “'Thank you, Mr. Scudder,' says she, still pretty frosty. 'I am full aware + of Mr. Tolliver's merits. I'm glad to learn that YOU recognize them. He + has told some things concernin' his stay at your home which—' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, yes,' says Nate, kind of hurried. 'Well, I'm sorry to dump bad news + into a puddle of happiness like this, but your Uncle Ansel, Miss Dixland, + has been tryin' to fly without his machine, and he's sorry for it.' + </p> + <p> + “Then he told what had happened to the professor, and Olivia started on + the run for the house. Augustus was goin', too, but Nate held him back. + </p> + <p> + “'Wait a minute, Gus,' says he. 'Walk along with me; I want to talk with + you. Now, as an older man, your nighest relation, and one that's come to + love you like a son—yes, sir, like a son—I think it's my duty + just now to say a word of advice. You're goin' to marry a nice girl that's + comin' in for a lot of money one of these days. The professor, he's kind + of old, his roof leaks consider'ble, and this trouble is likely to hurry + the end along. + </p> + <p> + “'Now, then,' Nate goes on, 'Augustus, my boy, what are you and that + simple, childlike girl goin' to do with all that money? How are you goin' + to take care of it? You and 'Livia—you mustn't mind my callin' her + that 'cause she's goin' to be one of the family so soon—you'll want + to be fussin' with science and such, and you won't have no time to attend + to the finances. You'll need a good, safe person to be your financial + manager. Well, you know me and you know your Aunt Huldy Ann. WE know all + about financin'; WE'VE had experience. You just let us handle the bonds + and coupons and them trifles. We'll invest 'em for you. We'll be yours and + 'Livia's financial managers. As for our wages, maybe they'll seem a little + high, but that's easy arranged. And—' + </p> + <p> + “Gus interrupted then. 'Oh, that's all settled,' he says. 'Olivia and I + have planned all that. When we're married we shall devote our lives to + social work—to settlement work. All the money we ever get we shall + use to help the poor. WE don't want any of it. We shall live AMONG the + poor, live just as frugally as they do. Our money we shall give—every + cent of it—to charity and—' + </p> + <p> + “'Lord sakes!' yells Nate, 'DON'T talk that way! Don't! Be you crazy, too? + Why—' + </p> + <p> + “But Gus went on, talkin' a steady streak about livin' in a little + tenement in what he called the 'slums' and chuckin' the money to this + tramp and that, till Nate's head was whirlin'. 'Twa'n't no joke. He meant + it and so did she, and they was just the pair of loons to do it, too. + </p> + <p> + “Afore Nate had a chance to think up anything sensible to say, Olivia + comes hollerin' for Gus to hurry. Off he went, and Nate followed along, + holdin' his head and staggerin' like a voter comin' home from a political + candidate's picnic. All he could think of was: 'THIS the end of all my + plannin'! What—WHAT'LL Huldy Ann say to THIS?' + </p> + <p> + “Nate found the professor bolstered up in his chair, with the other two + standin' alongside. He was layin' down the law about that blessed + aeroplane. + </p> + <p> + “'No! no! NO! I tell you!' he roars, 'I'll see no doctor. My invention is + ready at last, and, if I'm goin' to die, I'll die successful. Tolliver, + you've been a faithful worker with me, and yours shall be the privilege of + makin' the first flight. Wheel me to the window, Olivia, and let me see my + triumph.' + </p> + <p> + “But Olivia didn't move. Instead, she looked at Augustus and he at her. + 'Wheel me to the window!' yells Dixland. 'Tolliver, what are you waitin' for? + The doors are open, the aeroplane is ready. Go this instant and fly.' + </p> + <p> + “Augustus was a bird all right, 'cordin' to Nate's opinion, but he didn't + seem anxious to spread his wings. He was white, and them nerves of his was + all in a twitter. If ever there was a scart critter, 'twas him then. + </p> + <p> + “'Go out and fly,' says Nate to him, pretty average ugly. 'Don't you hear + the boss's order? Here, professor, I'll push you to the window.' + </p> + <p> + “'Thank you, Scudder,' says Dixland. And then turnin' to Gus: 'Well, sir, + may I ask why you wait?' + </p> + <p> + “'Twas Olivia that answered. 'Uncle Ansel,' says she, 'I must tell you + somethin'. I should have preferred tellin' you privately,' she puts in, + glarin' at Nate, 'but it seems I can't. Mr. Tolliver and I are engaged to + be married.' + </p> + <p> + “Old Whiskers didn't seem to care a continental. All he had in his addled + head was that flyin' contraption. + </p> + <p> + “'All right, all right,' he snaps, fretty, 'I'm satisfied. He appears to + be a decent young man enough. But now I want him to start my aeroplane.' + </p> + <p> + “'No, Uncle Ansel,' goes on Olivia, 'I cannot permit him to risk his life + in that way. His nerves are not strong and neither is his heart. Besides, + the aeroplane has failed twice. Luckily no one was killed in the other + trials, but the chances are that the third time may prove fatal.' + </p> + <p> + “'Fatal, you imbecile!' shrieks the professor. 'It's perfected, I tell + you! I—' + </p> + <p> + “'It makes no difference. No, uncle, Augustus and I have made up our + minds. His life and health are too precious; he must be spared for the + grand work that we are to do together. No, Uncle Ansel, he shall NOT fly.' + </p> + <p> + “Did you ever see a cat in a fit? That was the professor just then, so + Nate said. He tried to wave his sprained wrists and couldn't; tried to + stamp his foot and found it too lame. But his eyeglasses flashed sparks + and his tongue spit fire. + </p> + <p> + “'Are you goin' to start that machine?' he screams at the blue-white, + shaky Augustus. + </p> + <p> + “'No, Professor Dixland,' stammers Gus. 'No, sir, I'm sorry, but—' + </p> + <p> + “'Why don't you ask Mr. Scudder to make the experiment, uncle?' suggests + that confounded niece, smilin' the spitefullest smile. + </p> + <p> + “'Scudder,' says the professor, 'I'll give you five thousand dollars cash + to start in that aeroplane this moment.' + </p> + <p> + “For a jiffy Nate was staggered. Five thousand dollars CASH—whew! + But then he thought of how deep Gus had been shoved into that sandbank. + And there was a new and more powerful motor aboard the thing now. Five + thousand dollars ain't much good to a telescoped corpse. He fetched a long + breath. + </p> + <p> + “'Well, now, Mr. Dixland,' he says, 'I'd like to, fust rate, but you see I + don't know nothin' about mechanics.' + </p> + <p> + “'Professor—' begins Augustus. 'Twas the final straw. Old Whiskers + jumped out of the chair, lameness and all. + </p> + <p> + “'Out of this house, you ingrate!' he bellers. 'Out this instant! I + discharge you. Go! go!' + </p> + <p> + “He was actually frothin' at the mouth. I cal'late Olivia thought he was + goin' to die, for she run to him. + </p> + <p> + “'You'd better go, I think,' says she to her shakin' beau. 'Go, dear, now. + I must stay with him for the present, but we will see each other soon. Go + now, and trust me.' + </p> + <p> + “'I disown you, you ungrateful girl,' foams her uncle. 'Scudder, I order + you to put that—that creature off this island.' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, sir,' says Nate, polite; 'in about two shakes of a heifer's tail.' + </p> + <p> + “He started for Augustus, and Gus started for the door. I guess Olivia + might have interfered, but just then the professor keels over in a kind of + faint and she had to tend to him. Gus darts out of the door with Nate + after him. Scudder reached the beach just as his nephew was shovin' off in + the boat, bound for the mainland. + </p> + <p> + “'Consarn your empty head!' Nate yelled after him. 'See what you get by + not mindin' me, don't you? I'm runnin' things on this island after this. + I'm boss here; understand? When you're ready to sign a paper deedin' over + ha'f that money your wife's goin' to get to me and Huldy Ann, maybe I'll + let you come back. And perhaps then I'll square things for you with + Dixland. But if you dare to set foot on these premises until then I'll + murder you; I'll drown you; I'll cut you up for bait; I'll feed you to the + dog.' + </p> + <p> + “He sculled off, his oars rattlin' 'Hark from the tomb' in the rowlocks. + He b'lieved Nate meant it all. Oh, Scudder had HIM trained all right.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0007" id="link2HCH0007"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VII + </h2> + <h3> + CAPTAIN SOL DECIDES TO MOVE + </h3> + <p> + “Trust Nate for that,” interrupted Wingate. “He's just as much a born + bully as he is a cheat and a skinflint.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup,” went on Captain Sol. “Well, when Nate got back to the house the + professor was alone in the chair, lookin' sick and weak. Olivia was up in + her room havin' a cryin' fit. Nate got the old man to bed, made him some + clam soup and hot tea, and fetched and carried for him like he was a baby. + The professor's talk was mainly about the ungrateful desertion, as he + called it, of his assistant. + </p> + <p> + “'Keep him away from this island,' he says. 'If he comes, I shall commit + murder; I know it.' + </p> + <p> + “Scudder promised that Augustus shouldn't come back. The professor wanted + guard kept night and day. Nate said he didn't know's he could afford so + much time, and Dixland doubled his wages on the spot. So Nate agreed to + stand double watches, made him comfort'ble for the night, and left him. + </p> + <p> + “Olivia didn't come downstairs again. She didn't seem to want any supper, + but Nate did and had it, a good one. Galileo, the cat, came yowlin' + around, and Nate kicked him under the sofy. Phillips Brooks was howlin' + starvation in the woodshed, and Scudder let him howl. If he starved to + death Nate wouldn't put no flowers on his grave. Take it altogether, he + was havin' a fairly good time. + </p> + <p> + “And when, later on, he set alone up in his room over the kitchen, he + begun to have a better one. Prospects looked good. Maybe old Dixland WOULD + disown his niece. If he did, Nate figgered he was as healthy a candidate + for adoption as anybody. And Augustus would have to come to terms or stay + single. That is, unless him and Olivia got married on nothin' a week, paid + yearly. Nate guessed Huldy Ann would think he'd managed pretty well. + </p> + <p> + “He set there for a long while, thinkin', and then he says he cal'lates he + must have dozed off. At any rate, next thing he knew he was settin' up + straight in his chair, listenin'. It seemed to him that he'd heard a sound + in the kitchen underneath. + </p> + <p> + “He looked out of the window, and right away he noticed somethin'. 'Twas a + beautiful, clear moonlight night, and the high board fence around the + buildin's showed black against the white sand. And in that white strip was + a ten-foot white gape. Nate had shut that gate afore he went upstairs. + Who'd opened it? Then he heard the noise in the kitchen again. Somebody + was talkin' down there. + </p> + <p> + “Nate got up and tiptoed acrost the room. He was in his stockin' feet, so + he didn't make a sound. He reached into the corner and took out his old + duck gun. It was loaded, both barrels. Nate cocked the gun and crept down + the back stairs. + </p> + <p> + “There was a lamp burnin' low on the kitchen table, and there, in a couple + of chairs hauled as close together as they could be, set that Olivia niece + and Augustus. They was in a clove hitch again and whisperin' soft and + slushy. + </p> + <p> + “My! but Scudder was b'ilin'! He give one jump and landed in the middle of + that kitchen floor. + </p> + <p> + “'You—you—you!' he yelled, wavin' the shotgun. 'You're back + here, are you? You know what I told you I'd do to you? Well, now, I'll do + it.' + </p> + <p> + “The pair of 'em had jumped about as far as Nate had, only the opposite + way. Augustus was a paralyzed statue, but Olivia had her senses with her. + </p> + <p> + “'Run, Augustus!' she screamed. 'He'll shoot you. Run!' + </p> + <p> + “And then, with a screech like a siren whistle, Augustus commenced to run. + Nate was between him and the outside door, so he bolted headfirst into the + dining room. And after him went Nate Scudder, so crazy mad he didn't know + what he was doin'. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas pitch dark in the dining room, but through it they went rattlety + bang! dishes smashin', chairs upsettin' and 'hurrah, boys!' to pay + gen'rally. Then through the best parlor and into the front hall. + </p> + <p> + “I cal'late Nate would have had him at the foot of the front stairs if it + hadn't been for Galileo. That cat had been asleep on the sofy, and the + noise and hullabaloo had stirred him up till he was as crazy as the rest + of 'em. He run right under Nate's feet and down went Nate sprawlin' and + both barrels of the shotgun bust loose like a couple of cannon. + </p> + <p> + “Galileo took for tall timber, whoopin' anthems. Up them front stairs went + Augustus, screechin' shrill, like a woman; he was SURE Nate meant to + murder him now. And after him his uncle went on all fours, swearin' + tremendous. + </p> + <p> + “Then 'twas through one bedroom after another, and each one more crowded + with noisy, smashable things than that previous. Nate said he could + remember the professor roarin' 'Fire!' and 'Help!' as the two of 'em + bumped into his bed, but they didn't stop—they was too busy. The + whole length of the house upstairs they traveled, then through the ell, + then the woodshed loft, and finally out into the upper story of the barn. + And there Nate knew he had him. The ladder was down. + </p> + <p> + “'Now!' says Nate. 'Now, you long-legged villain, if I don't give you + what's comin' to you, then—Oh, there ain't no use in your climbin' + out there; you can't get down.' + </p> + <p> + “The big barn doors was open, and, in the moonlight, Nate could see Gus + scramblin' up and around on the flyin' stage where the professor's + aeroplane was perched, lookin' like some kind of magnified June bug. + </p> + <p> + “'Come back, you fool!' Scudder yelled at him. 'Come back and be + butchered. You might as well; it's too high for you to drop. You won't? + Then I'll come after you.' + </p> + <p> + “Nate says he never shall forget Augustus's face in the blue light when he + see his uncle climbin' out on that stage after him. He was simply + desperate—that's it, desperate. And the next thing he did was jump + into the saddle of the machine and pull the startin' lever. + </p> + <p> + “There was the buzz of the electric motor, a slippery, slidin' sound, one + awful hair-raisin' whoop from Augustus, and then—'F-s-s-s-t!'—down + the flyin' stage whizzed that aeroplane and out through the doors. + </p> + <p> + “Nate set down on the trestles and waited for the sound of the smash. I + guess he actually felt conscience stricken. Of course, he'd only done his + duty, and yet— + </p> + <p> + “But no smash came. Instead, there was a long scream from the kitchen—Olivia's + voice that was. And then another yell that for pure joy beat anything ever + heard. + </p> + <p> + “'It flies!' screamed Professor Ansel Hobart Whiskers Dixland, from his + bedroom window. 'At last! At last! It FLIES!' + </p> + <p> + “It took Nate some few minutes to paw his way back through the shed loft + and the ell over the things him and Gus knocked down on the fust lap, + until he got to his room where the trouble had started. Then he went down + to the kitchen and outdoor. + </p> + <p> + “Olivia, a heavenly sort of look on her face, was standin' in the + moonlight, with her hands clasped, lookin' up at the sky. + </p> + <p> + “'It flies!' says she, in a kind of whisper over and over again. 'Oh! it + FLIES!' + </p> + <p> + “Alongside of her was old Dixland, wrapped in a bedquilt, forgettin' all + about sprains and lameness; and he likewise was staring at the sky and + sayin' over and over: + </p> + <p> + “'It flies! It really FLIES!' + </p> + <p> + “And Nate looked up, and there, scootin' around in circles, now up high + and now down low, tippin' this way and tippin' that, was that aeroplane. + And in the stillness you could hear the buzz of the motor and the yells of + Augustus. + </p> + <p> + “Down flopped Scudder in the sand. 'Great land of love,' he says, 'it + FLIES!' + </p> + <p> + “Well, for five minutes or so they watched that thing swoop and duck and + sail up there overhead. And then, slow and easy as a feather in a May + breeze, down she flutters and lands soft on a hummock a little ways off. + And that Augustus—a fool for luck—staggers out of it safe and + sound, and sets down and begins to cry. + </p> + <p> + “The fust thing to reach him was Olivia. She grabbed him around the neck, + and you never heard such goin's on as them two had. Nate come hurryin' up. + </p> + <p> + “'Here you!' he says, pullin' 'em apart. 'That's enough of this. And you,' + he adds to Gus, 'clear right out off this island. I won't make shark bait + of you this time, but—' + </p> + <p> + “And then comes Dixland, hippity-hop over the hummocks. 'My noble boy!' he + sings out, fallin' all of a heap onto Augustus's round shoulders. 'My + noble boy! My hero!' + </p> + <p> + “Nate looked on for a full minute with his mouth open. Olivia went away + toward the house. The professor and Gus was sheddin' tears like a couple + of waterin' pots. + </p> + <p> + “'Come! come!' says Scudder finally; 'get up, Mr. Dixland; you'll catch + cold. Now then, you Tolliver, toddle right along to your boat. Don't you + worry, professor, I'll fix him so's he won't come here no more.' + </p> + <p> + “But the professor turned on him like a flash. + </p> + <p> + “'How dare you interfere?' says he. 'I forgive him everything. He is a + hero. Why, man, he FLEW!' + </p> + <p> + “Olivia came up behind and touched Nate on the shoulders. 'Don't you think + you'd better go, Mr. Scudder?' she purred. 'I've unchained Phillips + Brooks.' + </p> + <p> + “Nate swears he never made better time than he done gettin' to the shore + and the boat Augustus had come over in. But that philanthropist dog only + missed the supper he'd been waitin' for by about a foot and a half, even + as 'twas. + </p> + <p> + “And that was the end of it, fur's Nate was concerned. Olivia was boss + from then on, and Scudder wa'n't allowed to land on his own island. And + pretty soon they all went away, flyin' machine and all, and now Gus and + Olivia are married.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, by gum!” cried Wingate. “Say, that must have broke Nate's heart + completely. All that good money goin' to the poor. Ha! ha!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” said Captain Sol, with a broad grin. “Nate told me that every time + he realized that Gus's flyin' at all was due to his scarin' him into it, + it fairly made him sick of life.” + </p> + <p> + “What did Huldy Ann say? I'll bet the fur flew when SHE heard of it!” + </p> + <p> + “I guess likely it did. Scudder says her jawin's was the worst of all. Her + principal complaint was that he didn't take up with the professor's + five-thousand offer and try to fly. 'What if 'twas risky?' she says. 'If + anything happened to you the five thousand would have come to your heirs, + wouldn't it? But no! you never think of no one but yourself.'” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wingate glanced at his watch. “Good land!” he cried, “I didn't realize + 'twas so late. I must trot along down and meet Stitt. He and I are goin' + to corner the clam market.” + </p> + <p> + “I must be goin', too,” said the depot master, rising and moving toward + the door, picking up his cap on the way. He threw open the door and + exclaimed, “Hello! here's Sim. What you got on your mind, Sim?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Phinney looked rather solemn. “I wanted to speak with you a minute, + Sol,” he began. “Hello! Barzilla, I didn't know you was here.” + </p> + <p> + “I shan't be here but one second longer,” replied Mr. Wingate, as he and + Phinney shook hands. “I'm late already. Bailey'll think I ain't comin'. + Good-by, boys. See you this afternoon, maybe.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, do,” cried Berry, as his guest hurried down to the gate. “I want to + hear about those automobiles over your way. You ain't bought one, have + you, Barzilla?” + </p> + <p> + Wingate grinned over his shoulder. “No,” he called, “I ain't. But other + folks you know have. It's the biggest joke on earth. You and Sim'll want + to hear it.” + </p> + <p> + He waved a big hand and walked briskly up the Shore Road. The depot master + turned to his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Sim?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Well, Sol,” answered the building mover gravely, “I've just met Mr. + Hilton, the minister, and he told me somethin' about Olive Edwards, + somethin' I thought you'd want to know. You said for me to find out what + she was cal'latin' to do when she had to give up her home and—” + </p> + <p> + “I know what I said,” interrupted the depot master rather sharply. “What + did Hilton say?” + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Hilton told me not to tell,” continued Phinney, “and I shan't tell + nobody but you, Sol. I know you wont t mention it. The minister says that + Olive's hard up as she can be. All she's got in the world is the little + furniture and store stuff in her house. The store stuff don't amount to + nothin', but the furniture belonged to her pa and ma, and she set a heap + by it. Likewise, as everybody knows, she's awful proud and + self-respectin'. Anything like charity would kill her. Now out West—in + Omaha or somewheres—she's got a cousin who owed her dad money. Old + Cap'n Seabury lent this Omaha man two or three thousand dollars and set + him up in business. Course, the debt's outlawed, but Olive don't realize + that, or, if she did, it wouldn't count with her. She couldn't understand + how law would have any effect on payin' money you honestly owe. She's + written to the Omaha cousin, tellin' him what a scrape she's in and askin' + him to please, if convenient, let her have a thousand or so on account. + She figgers if she gets that, she can go to Bayport or Orham or somewheres + and open another notion store.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Berry lit a cigar. “Hum!” he said, after a minute. “You say she's + written to this chap. Has she got an answer yet?” + </p> + <p> + “No, not any definite one. She heard from the man's wife sayin' that her + husband—the cousin—had gone on a fishin' trip somewheres up in + Canady and wouldn't be back afore the eighth of next month. Soon's he does + come he'll write her. But Mr. Hilton thinks, and so do I—havin' + heard a few things about this cousin—that it's mighty doubtful if he + sends any money.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, I shouldn't wonder. Where's Olive goin' to stay while she's waitin' + to hear?” + </p> + <p> + “In her own house. Mr. Hilton went to Williams and pleaded with him, and + he finally agreed to let her stay there until the 'Colonial' is moved onto + the lot. Then the Edwardses house'll be tore down and Olive'll have to go, + of course.” + </p> + <p> + The depot master puffed thoughtfully at his cigar. + </p> + <p> + “She won't hear before the tenth, at the earliest,” he said. “And if + Williams begins to move his 'Colonial' at once, he'll get it to her lot by + the seventh, sure. Have you given him your figures for the job?” + </p> + <p> + “Handed 'em in this very mornin'. One of his high-and-mighty servants, all + brass buttons and braid, like a feller playin' in the band, took my letter + and condescended to say he'd pass it on to Williams. I'd liked to have + kicked the critter, just to see if he COULD unbend; but I jedged + 'twouldn't be good business.” + </p> + <p> + “Probably not. If the 'Colonial' gets to Olive's lot afore she hears from + the Omaha man, what then?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's the worst of it. The minister don't know what she'll do. + There's plenty of places where she'd be more'n welcome to visit a spell, + but she's too proud to accept. Mr. Hilton's afraid she'll start for Boston + to hunt up a job, or somethin'. You know how much chance she stands of + gettin' a job that's wuth anything.” + </p> + <p> + Phinney paused, anxiously awaiting his companion's reply. When it came it + was very unsatisfactory. + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin' to the depot,” said the Captain, brusquely. “So long, Sim.” + </p> + <p> + He slammed the door of the house behind him, strode to the gate, flung it + open, and marched on. Simeon gazed in astonishment, then hurried to + overtake him. Ranging alongside, he endeavored to reopen the conversation, + but to no purpose. The depot master would not talk. They turned into Cross + Street. + </p> + <p> + “Well!” exclaimed Mr. Phinney, panting from his unaccustomed hurry, “what + be we, runnin' a race? Why! . . . Oh, how d'ye do, Mr. Williams, sir? Want + to see me, do you?” + </p> + <p> + The magnate of East Harniss stepped forward. + </p> + <p> + “Er—Phinney,” he said, “I want a moment of your time. Morning, + Berry.” + </p> + <p> + “Mornin', Williams,” observed Captain Sol brusquely. “All right, Sim. I'll + wait for you farther on.” + </p> + <p> + He continued his walk. The building mover stood still. Mr. Williams + frowned with lofty indignation. + </p> + <p> + “Phinney,” he said, “I've just looked over those figures of yours, your + bid for moving my new house. The price is ridiculous.” + </p> + <p> + Simeon attempted a pleasantry. “Yes,” he answered, “I thought 'twas + ridic'lous myself; but I needed the money, so I thought I could afford to + be funny.” + </p> + <p> + The Williams frown deepened. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't mean ridiculously low,” he snapped; “I meant ridiculously high. + I'd rather help out you town fellows if I can, but you can't work me for a + good thing. I've written to Colt and Adams, of Boston, and accepted their + offer. You had your chance and didn't see fit to take it. That's all. I'm + sorry.” + </p> + <p> + Simeon was angry; also a trifle skeptical. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Williams,” he demanded, “do you mean to tell me that THEM people have + agreed to move you cheaper'n I can?” + </p> + <p> + “Their price—their actual price may be no lower; but considering + their up-to-date outfit and—er—progressive methods, they're + cheaper. Yes. Morning, Phinney.” + </p> + <p> + He turned on his heel and walked off. Mr. Phinney, crestfallen and angrier + than ever, moved on to where the depot master stood waiting for him. + Captain Sol smiled grimly. + </p> + <p> + “You don't look merry as a Christmas tree, Sim,” he observed. “What did + his Majesty have to say to you?” + </p> + <p> + Simeon related the talk with Williams. The depot master's grim smile grew + broader. + </p> + <p> + “Sim,” he asked, with quiet sarcasm, “don't you realize that progressive + methods are necessary in movin' a house?” + </p> + <p> + Phinney tried to smile in return, but the attempt was a failure. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” went on the Captain. “Well, if you can't take the Grand Panjandrum + home, you can set on the fence and see him go by. That ought to be honor + enough, hadn't it? However, I may need some of your ridiculous figgers on + a movin' job of my own, pretty soon. Don't be TOO comical, will you?” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean by that, Sol Berry?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that I may decide to move my own house.” + </p> + <p> + “Move your OWN house? Where to, for mercy sakes?” + </p> + <p> + “To that lot on Main Street that belongs to Abner Payne. Abner has wanted + to buy my lot here on the Shore Road for a long time. He knows it'll make + a fine site for some rich bigbug's summer 'cottage.' He would have bought + the house, too, but I think too much of that to sell it. Now Abner's come + back with another offer. He'll swap my lot for the Main Street one, pay my + movin' expenses and a fair 'boot' besides. He don't really care for my + HOUSE, you understand; it's my LAND he's after.” + </p> + <p> + “Are you goin' to take it up?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. The Main Street lot's a good one, and my house'll look good + on it. And I'll make money by the deal.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but you've always swore by that saltwater view of yours. Told me + yourself you never wanted to live anywheres else.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Sol took the cigar from his lips, looked at it, then threw it + violently into the gutter. + </p> + <p> + “What difference does it make where I live?” he snarled. “Who in blazes + cares where I live or whether I live at all?” + </p> + <p> + “Sol Berry, what on airth—” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up! Let me alone, Sim! I ain't fit company for anybody just now. + Clear out, there's a good feller.” + </p> + <p> + The next moment he was striding down the hill. Mr. Phinney drew a long + breath, scratched his head and shook it solemnly. WHAT did it all mean? + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0008" id="link2HCH0008"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER VIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE OBLIGATIONS OF A GENTLEMAN + </h3> + <p> + The methods of Messrs. Colt and Adams, the Boston firm of building movers, + were certainly progressive, if promptness in getting to work is any + criterion. Two days after the acceptance of their terms by Mr. Williams, a + freight car full of apparatus arrived at East Harniss. Then came a foreman + and a gang of laborers. Horses were hired, and within a week the “pure + Colonial” was off its foundations and on its way to the Edwards lot. The + moving was no light task. The big house must be brought along the Shore + Road to the junction with the Hill Boulevard, then swung into that + aristocratic highway and carried up the long slope, around the wide curve, + to its destination. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Phinney, though he hated the whole operation, those having it in + charge, and the mighty Williams especially, could not resist stealing down + to see how his successful rivals were progressing with the work he had + hoped to do. It caused him much chagrin to see that they were getting on + so very well. One morning, after breakfast, as he stood at the corner of + the Boulevard and the Shore Road, he found himself engaged in a mental + calculation. + </p> + <p> + Three days more and they would swing into the Boulevard; four or five days + after that and they would be abreast the Edwards lot. Another day and . . + . Poor Olive! She would be homeless. Where would she go? It was too early + for a reply from the Omaha cousin, but Simeon, having questioned the + minister, had little hope that that reply would be favorable. Still it was + a chance, and if the money SHOULD come before the “pure Colonial” reached + the Edwards lot, then the widow would at least not be driven penniless + from her home. She would have to leave that home in any event, but she + could carry out her project of opening another shop in one of the + neighboring towns. Otherwise . . . Mr. Phinney swore aloud. + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” said a voice behind him. “I agree with you, though I don't know + what it's all about. I ain't heard anything better put for a long while.” + </p> + <p> + Simeon spun around, as he said afterwards, “like a young one's pinwheel.” + At his elbow stood Captain Berry, the depot master, hands in pockets, + cigar in mouth, the personification of calmness and imperturbability. He + had come out of his house, which stood close to the corner, and walked + over to join his friend. + </p> + <p> + “Land of love!” exclaimed Simeon. “Why don't you scare a fellow to death, + tiptoein' around? I never see such a cat-foot critter!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Sol smiled. “Jumpin' it, ain't they?” he said, nodding toward the + “Colonial.” “Be there by the tenth, won't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Tenth!” Mr. Phinney sniffed disgust. “It'll be there by the sixth, or I + miss my guess.” + </p> + <p> + “Yup. Say, Sim, how soon could you land that shanty of mine in the road if + I give you the job to move it?” + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't get it up to the Main Street lot inside of a fortnight,” + replied Sim, after a moment's reflection. “Fur's gettin' it in the road + goes, I could have it here day after to-morrow if I had gang enough.” + </p> + <p> + The depot master took the cigar out of his mouth and blew a ring of smoke. + “All right,” he drawled, “get gang enough.” + </p> + <p> + Phinney jumped. “You mean you've decided to take up with Payne's offer and + swap your lot for his?” he gasped. “Why, only two or three days ago you + said—” + </p> + <p> + “Ya-as. That was two or three days ago, and I've been watchin' the + 'Colonial' since. I cal'late the movin' habit's catchin'. You have your + gang here by noon to-day.” + </p> + <p> + “Sol Berry, are you crazy? You ain't seen Abner Payne; he's out of town—” + </p> + <p> + “Don't have to see him. He's made me an offer and I'll write and accept + it.” + </p> + <p> + “But you've got to have a selectmen's permit to move—” + </p> + <p> + “Got it. I went up and saw the chairman an hour ago. He's a friend of + mine. I nominated him town-meetin' day.” + </p> + <p> + “But,” stammered Phinney, very much upset by the suddenness of it all, + “you ain't got my price nor—” + </p> + <p> + “Drat your price! Give it when I ask it. See here, Sim, are you goin' to + have my house in the middle of the road by day after to-morrer? Or was + that just talk?” + </p> + <p> + “'Twa'n't talk. I can have it there, but—” + </p> + <p> + “All right,” said Captain Sol coolly, “then have it.” + </p> + <p> + Hands in pockets, he strolled away. Simeon sat down on a rock by the + roadside and whistled. + </p> + <p> + However, whistling was a luxurious and time-wasting method of expressing + amazement, and Mr. Phinney could not afford luxuries just then. For the + rest of that day he was a busy man. As Bailey Stitt expressed it, he “flew + round like a sand flea in a mitten,” hiring laborers, engaging masons, and + getting his materials ready. That very afternoon the masons began tearing + down the chimneys of the little Berry house. Before the close of the + following day it was on the rollers. By two of the day after that it was + in the middle of the Shore Road, just when its mover had declared it + should be. They were moving it, furniture and all, and Captain Sol was, as + he said, going to “stay right aboard all the voyage.” No cooking could be + done, of course, but the Captain arranged to eat at Mrs. Higgins's + hospitable table during the transit. His sudden freak was furnishing + material for gossip throughout the village, but he did not care. Gossip + concerning his actions was the last thing in the world to trouble Captain + Sol Berry. + </p> + <p> + The Williams's “Colonial” was moving toward the corner at a rapid rate, + and the foreman of the Boston moving firm walked over to see Mr. Phinney. + </p> + <p> + “Say,” he observed to Simeon, who, the perspiration streaming down his + face, was resting for a moment before recommencing his labor of arranging + rollers; “say,” observed the foreman, “we'll be ready to turn into the + Boulevard by tomorrer night and you're blockin' the way.” + </p> + <p> + “That's all right,” said Simeon, “we'll be past the Boulevard corner by + that time.” + </p> + <p> + He thought he was speaking the truth, but next morning, before work began, + Captain Berry appeared. He had had breakfast and strolled around to the + scene of operations. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” asked Phinney, “how'd it seem to sleep on wheels?” + </p> + <p> + “Tiptop,” replied the depot master. “Like it fust rate. S'pose my next + berth will be somewheres up there, won't it?” + </p> + <p> + He was pointing around the corner instead of straight ahead. Simeon gaped, + his mouth open. + </p> + <p> + “Up THERE?” he cried. “Why, of course not. That's the Boulevard. We're + goin' along the Shore Road.” + </p> + <p> + “That so? I guess not. We're goin' by the Boulevard. Can go that way, + can't we?” + </p> + <p> + “Can?” repeated Simeon aghast. “Course we CAN! But it's like boxin' the + whole compass backward to get ha'f a p'int east of no'th. It's way round + Robin Hood's barn. It'll take twice as long and cost—” + </p> + <p> + “That's good,” interrupted the Captain. “I like to travel, and I'm willin' + to pay for it. Think of the view I'll get on the way.” + </p> + <p> + “But your permit from the selectmen—” began Phinney. Berry held up + his hand. + </p> + <p> + “My permit never said nothin' about the course to take,” he answered, his + eye twinkling just a little. “There, Sim, you're wastin' time. I move by + the Hill Boulevard.” + </p> + <p> + And into the Boulevard swung the Berry house. The Colt and Adams foreman + was an angry man when he saw the beams laid in that direction. He rushed + over and asked profane and pointed questions. + </p> + <p> + “Thought you said you was goin' straight ahead?” he demanded. + </p> + <p> + “Thought I was,” replied Simeon, “but, you see, I'm only navigator of this + craft, not owner.” + </p> + <p> + “Where is the blankety blank?” asked the foreman. + </p> + <p> + “If you're referrin' to Cap'n Berry, I cal'late you'll find him at the + depot,” answered Phinney. To the depot went the foreman. Receiving little + satisfaction there, he hurried to the home of his employer, Mr. Williams. + The magnate, red-faced and angry, returned with him to the station. + Captain Sol received them blandly. Issy, who heard the interview which + followed, declared that the depot master was so cool that “an iceberg was + a bonfire 'longside of him.” Issy's description of this interview, given + to a dozen townspeople within the next three hours, was as follows: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Williams,” said the wide-eyed Issy, “he comes postin' into the + waitin' room, his foreman with him. Williams marches over to Cap'n Sol and + he says, 'Berry,' he says, 'are you responsible for the way that house of + yours is moved?' + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Sol bowed and smiled. 'Yes,' says he, sweet as a fresh scallop. + </p> + <p> + “'You're movin' it to Main Street, aren't you? I so understood.' + </p> + <p> + “'You understood correct. That's where she's bound.' + </p> + <p> + “'Then what do you mean by turning out of your road and into mine?' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, I don't own any road. Have you bought the Boulevard? The selectmen + ought to have told us that. I s'posed it was town thoroughfare.' + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Williams colored up a little. 'I didn't mean my road in that sense,' + he says. 'But the direct way to Main Street is along the shore, and + everybody knows it. Now why do you turn from that into the Boulevard?' + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Sol took a cigar from his pocket. 'Have one?' says he, passin' it + toward Mr. Williams. 'No? Too soon after breakfast, I s'pose. Why do I + turn off?' he goes on. 'Well, I'll tell you. I'm goin' to stay right + aboard my shack while it's movin', and it's so much pleasanter a ride up + the hill that I thought I'd go that way. I always envied them who could + afford a house on the Boulevard, and now I've got the chance to have one + there—for a spell. I'm sartin I shall enjoy it.' + </p> + <p> + “The foreman growled, disgusted. Mr. Williams got redder yet. + </p> + <p> + “'Don't you understand?' he snorts. 'You're blockin' the way of the house + I'M movin'. I have capable men with adequate apparatus to move it, and + they would be able to go twice as fast as your one-horse country outfit. + You're blockin' the road. Now they must follow you. It's an outrage!' + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Sol smiled once more. 'Too bad,' says he. 'It's a pity such a nice + street ain't wider. If it was my street in my town—I b'lieve that's + what you call East Harniss, ain't it?—seems to me I'd widen it.' + </p> + <p> + “The boss of 'my town' ground his heel into the sand. 'Berry,' he snaps, + 'are you goin' to move that house over the Boulevard ahead of mine?' + </p> + <p> + “The Cap'n looked him square in the eye. 'Williams,' says he, 'I am.' + </p> + <p> + “The millionaire turned short and started to go. + </p> + <p> + “'You'll pay for it,' he snarls, his temper gettin' free at last. + </p> + <p> + “'I cal'late to,' purrs the Cap'n. 'I gen'rally do pay for what I want, + and a fair price, at that. I never bought in cheap mortgages and held 'em + for clubs over poor folks, never in my life. Good mornin'.' + </p> + <p> + “And right to Mr. Williams's own face, too,” concluded Issy. “WHAT do you + think of that?” + </p> + <p> + Here was defiance of authority and dignity, a sensation which should have + racked East Harniss from end to end. But most of the men in the village, + the tradespeople particularly, had another matter on their minds, namely, + Major Cuthbertson Scott Hardee, of “Silverleaf Hall.” The Major and his + debts were causing serious worriment. + </p> + <p> + The creditors of the Major met, according to agreement, on the Monday + evening following their previous gathering at the club. Obed Gott, one of + the first to arrive, greeted his fellow members with an air of gloomy + triumph and a sort of condescending pity. + </p> + <p> + Higgins, the “general store” keeper, acting as self-appointed chairman, + asked if anyone had anything to report. For himself, he had seen the Major + and asked point-blank for payment of his bill. The Major had been very + polite and was apparently much concerned that his fellow townsmen should + have been inconvenienced by any neglect of his. He would write to his + attorneys at once, so he said. + </p> + <p> + “He said a whole lot more, too,” added Higgins. “Said he had never been + better served than by the folks in this town, and that I kept a fine + store, and so on and so forth. But I haven't got any money yet. Anybody + else had any better luck?” + </p> + <p> + No one had, although several had had similar interviews with the master of + “Silverleaf Hall.” + </p> + <p> + “Obed looks as if he knew somethin',” remarked Weeks. “What is it, Obed?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Gott scornfully waved his hand. + </p> + <p> + “You fellers make me laugh,” he said. “You talk and talk, but you don't do + nothin'. I b'lieve in doin', myself. When I went home t'other night, + thinks I: 'There's one man that might know somethin' 'bout old Hardee, and + that's Godfrey, the hotel man.' So I wrote to Godfrey up to Boston and I + got a letter from him. Here 'tis.” + </p> + <p> + He read the letter aloud. Mr. Godfrey wrote that he knew nothing about + Major Hardee further than that he had been able to get nothing from him in + payment for his board. + </p> + <p> + “So I seized his trunk,” the letter concluded. “There was nothing in it + worth mentioning, but I took it on principle. The Major told me a lot + about writing to his attorneys for money, but I didn't pay much attention + to that. I'm afraid he's an old fraud, but I can't help liking him, and if + I had kept on running my hotel I guess he would have got away scot-free.” + </p> + <p> + “There!” exclaimed the triumphant Obed, with a sneer, “I guess that + settles it, don't it? Maybe you'd be willin' to turn your bills over to + Squire Baker now.” + </p> + <p> + But they were not willing. Higgins argued, and justly, that although the + Major was in all probability a fraud, not even a lawyer could get water + out of a stone, and that when a man had nothing, suing him was a waste of + time and cash. + </p> + <p> + “Besides,” he said, “there's just a chance that he may have attorneys and + property somewheres else. Let's write him a letter and every one of us + sign it, tellin' him that we'll call on him Tuesday night expectin' to be + paid in full. If we call and don't get any satisfaction, why, we ain't any + worse off, and then we can—well, run him out of town, if nothin' + more.” + </p> + <p> + So the letter was written and signed by every man there. It was a long + list of signatures and an alarming total of indebtedness. The letter was + posted that night. + </p> + <p> + The days that followed seemed long to Obed. He was ill-natured at home and + ugly at the shop, and Polena declared that he was “gettin' so a body + couldn't live with him.” Her own spirits were remarkably high, and Obed + noticed that, as the days went by, she seemed to be unusually excited. On + Thursday she announced that she was going to Orham to visit her niece, one + Sarah Emma Cahoon, and wouldn't be back right off. He knew better than to + object, and so she went. + </p> + <p> + That evening each of the signers of the letter to Major Hardee received a + courteous note saying that the Major would be pleased to receive the + gentlemen at the Hall. Nothing was said about payment. + </p> + <p> + So, after some discussion, the creditors marched in procession across the + fields and up to “Silverleaf Hall.” + </p> + <p> + “Hardee's been to Orham to-day,” whispered the keeper of the livery + stable, as they entered the yard. “He drove over this mornin' and come + back to-night.” + </p> + <p> + “DROVE over!” exclaimed Obed, halting in his tracks. “He did? Where'd he + get the team? I'll bet five dollars you was soft enough to let him have + it, and never said a word. Well, if you ain't—By jimmy! you wait + till I get at him! I'll show you that he can't soft soap me.” + </p> + <p> + Augustus met them at the door and ushered them into the old-fashioned + parlor. The Major, calm, cool, and imperturbably polite, was waiting to + receive them. He made some observation concerning the weather. + </p> + <p> + “The day's fine enough,” interrupted Obed, pushing to the front, “but that + ain't what we come here to talk about. Are you goin' to pay us what you + owe? That's what we want to know.” + </p> + <p> + The “gentleman of the old school” did not answer immediately. Instead he + turned to the solemn servant at his elbow. + </p> + <p> + “Augustus,” he said, “you may make ready.” Then, looking serenely at the + irate Mr. Gott, whose clenched fist rested under the center table, which + he had thumped to emphasize his demands, the Major asked: + </p> + <p> + “I beg your pardon, my dear sir, but what is the total of my indebtedness + to you?” + </p> + <p> + “Nineteen dollars and twenty-eight cents, and I want you to understand + that—” + </p> + <p> + Major Hardee held up a slim, white hand. + </p> + <p> + “One moment, if you please,” he said. “Now, Augustus.” + </p> + <p> + Augustus opened the desk in the corner and produced an imposing stack of + bank notes. Then he brought forth neat piles of halves, quarters, dimes, + and pennies, and arranged the whole upon the table. Obed's mouth and those + of his companions gaped in amazement. + </p> + <p> + “Have you your bill with you, Mr. Gott?” inquired the Major. + </p> + <p> + Dazedly Mr. Gott produced the required document. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you. Augustus, nineteen twenty-eight to this gentleman. Kindly + receipt the bill, Mr. Gott, if you please. A mere formality, of course, + but it is well to be exact. Thank you, sir. And now, Mr. Higgins.” + </p> + <p> + One by one the creditors shamefacedly stepped forward, received the amount + due, receipted the bill, and stepped back again. Mr. Peters, the + photographer, was the last to sign. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said the Major, “I am sorry that my carelessness in financial + matters should have caused you this trouble, but now that you are here, a + representative gathering of East Harniss's men of affairs, upon this night + of all nights, it seems fitting that I should ask for your + congratulations. Augustus.” + </p> + <p> + The wooden-faced Augustus retired to the next room and reappeared carrying + a tray upon which were a decanter and glasses. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” continued the Major, “I have often testified to my admiration + and regard for your—perhaps I may now say OUR—charming + village. This admiration and regard has extended to the fair daughters of + the township. It may be that some of you have conscientious scruples + against the use of intoxicants. These scruples I respect, but I am sure + that none of you will refuse to at least taste a glass of wine with me + when I tell you that I have this day taken one of the fairest to love and + cherish during life.” + </p> + <p> + He stepped to the door of the dining room, opened it, and said quietly, + “My dear, will you honor us with your presence?” + </p> + <p> + There was a rustle of black silk and there came through the doorway the + stately form of her who had been Mrs. Polena Ginn. + </p> + <p> + “Gentlemen,” said the Major, “permit me to present to you my wife, the new + mistress of 'Silverleaf Hall.'” + </p> + <p> + The faces of the ex-creditors were pictures of astonishment. Mr. Gott's + expressive countenance turned white, then red, and then settled to a + mottled shade, almost as if he had the measles. Polena rushed to his side. + </p> + <p> + “O Obed!” she exclaimed. “I know we'd ought to have told you, but 'twas + only Tuesday the Major asked me, and we thought we'd keep it a secret so's + to s'prise you. Mr. Langworthy over to Orham married us, and—” + </p> + <p> + “My dear,” her husband blandly interrupted, “we will not intrude our + private affairs upon the patience of these good friends. And now, + gentlemen, let me propose a toast: To the health and happiness of the + mistress of 'Silverleaf Hall'! Brother Obed, I—” + </p> + <p> + The outside door closed with a slam; “Brother Obed” had fled. + </p> + <p> + A little later, when the rest of the former creditors of the Major came + out into the moonlight, they found their companion standing by the gate + gazing stonily into vacancy. “Hen” Leadbetter, who, with Higgins, brought + up the rear of the procession, said reflectively: + </p> + <p> + “When he fust fetched out that stack of money I couldn't scarcely b'lieve + my eyes. I begun to think that we fellers had put our foot in it for + sartin, and had lost a mighty good customer; but, of course, it's all + plain enough NOW.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” remarked Weeks with a nod; “I allers heard that P'lena kept a + mighty good balance in the bank.” + </p> + <p> + “It looks to me,” said Higgins slyly, “as if we owed Obed here a vote of + thanks. How 'bout that, Obed?” + </p> + <p> + And then Major Hardee's new brother-in-law awoke with a jump. + </p> + <p> + “Aw, you go to grass!” he snarled, and tramped savagely off down the hill. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0009" id="link2HCH0009"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER IX + </h2> + <h3> + THE WIDOW BASSETT + </h3> + <p> + These developments, Major Hardee's marriage and Mr. Gott's discomfiture, + overshadowed, for the time, local interest in the depot master's house + moving. This was, in its way, rather fortunate, for those who took the + trouble to walk down to the lower end of the Boulevard were astonished to + see how very slowly the moving was progressing. + </p> + <p> + “Only one horse, Sim?” asked Captain Hiram Baker. “Only one! Why, it'll + take you forever to get through, won't it?” + </p> + <p> + “I'm afraid it'll take quite a spell,” admitted Mr. Phinney. + </p> + <p> + “Where's your other one, the white one?” + </p> + <p> + “The white horse,” said Simeon slowly, “ain't feelin' just right and I've + had to lay him off.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! that's too bad. How does Sol act about it? He's such a hustler, I + should think—” + </p> + <p> + “Sol,” interrupted Sim, “ain't unreasonable. He understands.” + </p> + <p> + He chuckled inwardly as he said it. Captain Sol did understand. Also Mr. + Phinney himself was beginning to understand a little. + </p> + <p> + The very day on which Williams and his foreman had called on the depot + master and been dismissed so unceremoniously, that official paid a short + visit to his mover. + </p> + <p> + “Sim,” he said, the twinkle still in his eye, “his Majesty, Williams the + Conqueror, was in to see me just now and acted real peevish. He was pretty + disrespectful to you, too. Called your outfit 'one horse.' That's a + mistake, because you've got two horses at work right now. It seems a shame + to make a great man like that lie. Hadn't you better lay off one of them + horses?” + </p> + <p> + “Lay one OFF?” exclaimed Simeon. “What for? Why, we'll be slow enough, as + 'tis. With only one horse we wouldn't get through for I don't know how + long.” + </p> + <p> + “That's so,” murmured the Captain. “I s'pose with one horse you'd hardly + reach the middle of the Boulevard by—well, before the tenth of the + month. Hey?” + </p> + <p> + The tenth of the month! The TENTH! Why, it was on the tenth that that + Omaha cousin of Olive Edwards was to—Mr. Phinney began to see—to + see and to grin, slow but expansive. + </p> + <p> + “Hm-m-m!” he mused. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” observed Captain Sol. “That white horse of yours looks sort of + ailin' to me, Sim. I think he needs a rest.” + </p> + <p> + And, sure enough, next day the white horse was pronounced unfit and taken + back to the stable. The depot master's dwelling moved, but that is all one + could say truthfully concerning its progress. + </p> + <p> + At the depot the Captain was quieter than usual. He joked with his + assistant less than had been his custom, and for the omission Issy was + duly grateful. Sometimes Captain Sol would sit for minutes without + speaking. He seemed to be thinking and to be pondering some grave problem. + When his friends, Mr. Wingate, Captain Stitt, Hiram Baker, and the rest, + dropped in on him he cheered up and was as conversational as ever. After + they had gone he relapsed into his former quiet mood. + </p> + <p> + “He acts sort of blue, to me,” declared Issy, speaking from the depths of + sensational-novel knowledge. “If he was a younger man I'd say he was most + likely in love. Ah, hum! I s'pose bein' in love does get a feller + mournful, don't it?” + </p> + <p> + Issy made this declaration to his mother only. He knew better than to + mention sentiment to male acquaintances. The latter were altogether too + likely to ask embarrassing questions. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wingate and Captain Stitt were still in town, although their stay was + drawing to a close. One afternoon they entered the station together. + Captain Sol seemed glad to see them. + </p> + <p> + “Set down, fellers,” he ordered. “I swan I'm glad to see you. I ain't fit + company for myself these days.” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't Betsy Higgins feedin' you up to the mark?” asked Stitt. “Or is + house movin' gettin' on your vitals?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” growled the depot master, “grub's all right and so's movin', I + cal'late. I'm glad you fellers come in. What's the news to Orham, + Barzilla? How's the Old Home House boarders standin' it? Hear from Jonadab + regular, do you?” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wingate laughed. “Nothin' much,” he said. “Jonadab's too busy to write + these days. Bein' a sport interferes with letter writing consider'ble.” + </p> + <p> + “Sport!” exclaimed Captain Bailey. “Land of Goshen! Cap'n Jonadab is the + last one I'd call a sport.” + </p> + <p> + “That's 'cause you ain't a good judge of human nature, Bailey,” chuckled + Barzilla. “When ancient plants like Jonadab Wixon DO bloom, they're gay + old blossoms, I tell you!” + </p> + <p> + “What do you mean?” asked the depot master. + </p> + <p> + “I mean that Jonadab's been givin' me heart disease, that's what; givin' + it to me in a good many diff'rent ways, too. We opened the Old Home House + the middle of April this year, because Peter T. Brown thought we might + catch some spring trade. We did catch a little, though whether it paid to + open up so early's a question. But 'twas June 'fore Jonadab got his + disease so awful bad. However, most any time in the last part of May the + reg'lar programme of the male boarders was stirrin' him up. + </p> + <p> + “Take it of a dull day, for instance. Sky overcast and the wind aidgin' + round to the sou'east, so's you couldn't tell whether 'twould rain or fair + off; too cold to go off to the ledge cod fishin' and too hot for billiards + or bowlin'; a bunch of the younger women folks at one end of the piazza + playin' bridge; half a dozen men, includin' me and Cap'n Jonadab, smokin' + and tryin' to keep awake at t'other end; amidships a gang of females—all + 'fresh air fiends'—and mainly widows or discards in the matrimony + deal, doin' fancywork and gossip. That would be about the usual layout. + </p> + <p> + “Conversation got to you in homeopath doses, somethin' like this: + </p> + <p> + “'Did you say “Spades”? WELL! if I'd known you were going to make us lose + our deal like that, I'd never have bridged it—not with THIS hand.' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, Miss Gabble, have you heard what people are sayin' about—' The + rest of it whispers. + </p> + <p> + “'A—oo—OW! By George, Bill! this is dead enough, isn't it? + Shall we match for the cigars or are you too lazy?' + </p> + <p> + “Then, from away off in the stillness would come a drawn-out 'Honk! honk!' + like a wild goose with the asthma, and pretty soon up the road would come + sailin' a big red automobile, loaded to the guards with goggles and + grandeur, and whiz past the hotel in a hurricane of dust and smell. Then + all hands would set up and look interested, and Bill would wink acrost at + his chum and drawl: + </p> + <p> + “'That's the way to get over the country! Why, a horse isn't one—two—three + with that! Cap'n Wixon, I'm surprised that a sportin' man like you hasn't + bought one of those things long afore this.' + </p> + <p> + “For the next twenty minutes there wouldn't be any dullness. Jonadab would + take care of that. He'd have the floor and be givin' his opinions of autos + and them that owned and run 'em. And between the drops of his language + shower you'd see them boarders nudgin' each other and rockin' back and + forth contented and joyful. + </p> + <p> + “It always worked. No matter what time of day or night, all you had to say + was 'auto' and Cap'n Jonadab would sail up out of his chair like one of + them hot-air balloons the youngsters nowadays have on Fourth of July. And + he wouldn't come down till he was empty of remarks, nuther. You never see + a man get so red faced and eloquent. + </p> + <p> + “It wa'n't because he couldn't afford one himself. I know that's the usual + reason for them kind of ascensions, but 'twa'n't his. No, sir! the summer + hotel business has put a considerable number of dollars in Jonadab's + hands, and the said hands are like a patent rat trap, a mighty sight + easier to get into than out of. He could have bought three automobiles if + he'd wanted to, but he didn't want to. And the reason he didn't was named + Tobias Loveland and lived over to Orham.” + </p> + <p> + “I know Tobias,” interrupted Captain Bailey Stitt. + </p> + <p> + “Course you do,” continued Barzilla. “So does Sol, I guess. Well, anyhow, + Tobias and Cap'n Jonadab never did hitch. When they was boys together at + school they was always rowin' and fightin', and when they grew up to be + thirty and courted the same girl—ten years younger than either of + 'em, she was—twa'n't much better. Neither of 'em got her, as a + matter of fact; she married a tin peddler named Bassett over to Hyannis. + But both cal'lated they would have won if t'other hadn't been in the race, + and consequently they loved each other with a love that passed + understandin'. Tobias had got well to do in the cranberry-raisin' line and + drove a fast horse. Jonadab, durin' the last prosperous year or two, had + bought what he thought was some horse, likewise. They met on the road one + day last spring and trotted alongside one another for a mile. At the end + of that mile Jonadab's craft's jib boom was just astern of Tobias's + rudder. Inside of that week the Cap'n had swapped his horse for one with a + two-thirty record, and the next time they met Tobias was left with a + beautiful, but dusty, view of Jonadab's back hair. So HE bought a new + horse. And that was the beginnin'. + </p> + <p> + “It went along that way for twelve months. Fust one feller's nag would + come home freighted with perspiration and glory, and then t'other's. One + week Jonadab would be so bloated with horse pride that he couldn't find + room for his vittles, and the next he'd be out in the stable growlin' + 'cause it cost so much for hay to stuff an old hide rack that wa'n't fit + to put in a museum. At last it got so that neither one could find a better + horse on the Cape, and the two they had was practically an even match. I + begun to have hopes that the foolishness was over. And then the tin + peddler's widow drifts in to upset the whole calabash. + </p> + <p> + “She made port at Orham fust, this Henrietta Bassett did, and the style + she slung killed every female Goliath in the Orham sewin' circle dead. + Seems her husband that was had been an inventor, as a sort of side line to + peddlin' tinware, and all to once he invented somethin' that worked. He + made money—nobody knew how much, though all hands had a guess—and + pretty soon afterwards he made a will and Henrietta a widow. She'd been + livin' in New York, so she said, and had come back to revisit the scenes + of her childhood. She was a mighty well-preserved woman—artificial + preservatives, I cal'late, like some kinds of tomatter ketchup—and + her comin' stirred Orham way down to the burnt places on the bottom of the + kettle.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess I remember HER, too,” put in Captain Bailey. + </p> + <p> + “Say!” queried Mr. Wingate snappishly, “do you want to tell about her? If + you do, why—” + </p> + <p> + “Belay, both of you!” ordered the depot master. “Heave ahead, Barzilla.” + </p> + <p> + “The news of her got over to Wellmouth, and me and Jonadab heard of it. He + was some subject to widows—most widower men are, I guess—but + he didn't develop no alarmin' symptoms in this case and never even hinted + that he'd like to see his old girl. Fact is, his newest horse trade had + showed that it was afraid of automobiles, and he was beginnin' to get + rabid along that line. Then come that afternoon when him and me was out + drivin' together, and we—Well, I'll have to tell you about that. + </p> + <p> + “We was over on the long stretch of wood road between Trumet and Denboro, + nice hard macadam, the mare—her name was Celia, but Jonadab had + re-christened her Bay Queen after a boat he used to own—skimmin' + along at a smooth, easy gait, when, lo and behold you! we rounds a turn + and there ahead of us is a light, rubber-tired wagon with a man and woman + on the seat of it. I heard Jonadab give a kind of snort. + </p> + <p> + “'What's the matter?' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'Nothin',' says he, between his teeth. 'Only, if I ain't some mistaken, + that's Tobe Loveland's rig. Wonder if he's got his spunk with him? The + Queen's feelin' her oats to-day, and I cal'late I can show him a few + things.' + </p> + <p> + “'Rubbish!' says I, disgusted. 'Don't be foolish, Jonadab. I don't know + nothin' about his spunk, but I do know there's a woman with him. 'Tain't + likely he'll want to race you when he's got a passenger aboard.' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, I don't know!' says he. 'I've got you, Barzilla; so 'twill be two + and two. Let's heave alongside and see.' + </p> + <p> + “So he clucked to the Queen, and in a jiffy we was astern of t'other rig. + Loveland looked back over his shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “'Ugh!' he grunts, 'bout as cordial as a plate of ice cream. ''Lo, Wixon, + that you?' + </p> + <p> + “'Um-hm,' begins Jonadab. 'How's that crowbait of yours to-day, Tobe? Got + any go in him? 'Cause if he has, I—' + </p> + <p> + “He stopped short. The woman in Loveland's carriage had turned her head + and was starin' hard. + </p> + <p> + “'Why!' she gasps. 'I do believe—Why, Jonadab!' + </p> + <p> + “'HETTIE!' says the Cap'n. + </p> + <p> + “Well, after that 'twas pull up, of course, and shake hands and talk. The + widow, she done most of the talkin'. She was SO glad to see him. How had + he been all these years? She knew him instantly. He hadn't changed a mite—that + is, not so VERY much. She was plannin' to come over to the Old Home House + and stay a spell later on; but now she was havin' SUCH a good time in + Orham, Tobias—Mr. Loveland—was makin' it SO pleasant for her. + She did enjoy drivin' so much, and Mr. Loveland had the fastest horse in + the county—did we know that? + </p> + <p> + “Tobias and Jonadab glowered back and forth while all this gush was bein' + turned loose, and hardly spoke to one another. But when 'twas over and we + was ready to start again, the Cap'n says, says he: + </p> + <p> + “'I'll be mighty glad to see you over to the hotel, when you're ready to + come, Hettie. I can take you ridin', too. Fur's horse goes, I've got a + pretty good one myself.' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh!' squeals the widow. 'Really? Is that him? It's awful pretty, and he + looks fast.' + </p> + <p> + “'She is,' says Jonadab. 'There's nothin' round here can beat her.' + </p> + <p> + “'Humph!' says Loveland. 'Git dap!' + </p> + <p> + “'Git dap!' says Jonadab, agreein' with him for once. + </p> + <p> + “Tobias started, and we started. Tobias makes his horse go a little + faster, and Jonadab speeded up some likewise. I see how 'twas goin' to be, + and therefore I wa'n't surprised to death when the next ten minutes found + us sizzlin' down that road, neck and neck with Loveland, dust flyin', + hoofs poundin', and the two drivers leanin' way for'ard over the dash, + reins gripped and teeth sot. For a little ways 'twas an even thing, and + then we commenced to pull ahead a little. + </p> + <p> + “'Loveland,' yells Jonadab, out of the port corner of his mouth, 'if I + ain't showin' you my tailboard by the time we pass the fust house in + Denboro, I'll eat my Sunday hat.' + </p> + <p> + “I cal'late he would 'a' beat, too. We was drawin' ahead all the time and + had a three-quarter length lead when we swung clear of the woods and + sighted Denboro village, quarter of a mile away. And up the road comes + flyin' a big auto, goin' to beat the cars. + </p> + <p> + “Let's forget the next few minutes; they wa'n't pleasant ones for me. + Soon's the Bay Queen sot eyes on that auto, she stopped trottin' and + commenced to hop; from hoppin' she changed to waltzin' and high jumpin'. + When the smoke had cleared, the auto was out of sight and we was in the + bushes alongside the road, with the Queen just gettin' ready to climb a + tree. As for Tobias and Henrietta, they was roundin' the turn by the fust + house in Denboro, wavin' by-bys to us over the back of the seat. + </p> + <p> + “We went home then; and every foot of the way Cap'n Jonadab called an + automobile a new kind of name, and none complimentary. The boarders, they + got wind of what had happened and begun to rag him, and the more they + ragged, the madder he got and the more down on autos. + </p> + <p> + “And, to put a head on the whole business, I'm blessed if Tobias Loveland + didn't get in with an automobile agent who was stoppin' in Orham and buy a + fifteen-hundred-dollar machine off him. And the very next time Jonadab was + out with the Queen on the Denboro road, Tobias and the widow whizzed past + him in that car so fast he might as well have been hove to. And, by way of + rubbin' it in, they come along back pretty soon and rolled alongside of + him easy, while Henrietta gushed about Mr. Loveland's beautiful car and + how nice it was to be able to go just as swift as you wanted to. Jonadab + couldn't answer back, nuther, bein' too busy keepin' the Queen from + turnin' herself into a flyin' machine. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas then that he got himself swore in special constable to arrest auto + drivers for overspeedin'; and for days he wandered round layin' for a + chance to haul up Tobias and get him fined. He'd have had plenty of game + if he'd been satisfied with strangers, but he didn't want them anyhow, + and, besides, most of 'em was on their way to spend money at the Old Home + House. 'Twould have been poor business to let any of THAT cash go for + fines, and he realized it. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas in early June, only a few weeks ago, that the widow come to our + hotel. I never thought she meant it when she said she was comin', and so I + didn't expect her. Fact is, I was expectin' to hear that she and Tobe + Loveland was married or engaged. But there was a slip up somewheres, for + all to once the depot wagon brings her to the Old Home House, she hires a + room, and settles down to stay till the season closed, which would be in + about a fortn't. + </p> + <p> + “From the very fust she played her cards for Jonadab. He meant to be + middlin' average frosty to her, I imagine—her bein' so thick with + Tobias prejudiced him, I presume likely. But land sakes! she thawed him + out like hot toddy thaws out some folks' tongues. She never took no notice + of his coldness, but smiled and gushed and flattered, and looked her + prettiest—which was more'n average, considerin' her age—and by + the end of the third day he was hangin' round her like a cat round a cook. + </p> + <p> + “It commenced to look serious to me. Jonadab was a pretty old fish to be + caught with soft soap and a set of false crimps; but you can't never tell. + When them old kind do bite, they gen'rally swallow hook and sinker, and he + sartinly did act hungry. I wished more'n once that Peter T. Brown, our + business manager, was aboard to help me with advice, but Peter is off + tourin' the Yosemite with his wife and her relations, so whatever pilotin' + there was I had to do. And every day fetched Jonadab's bows nigher the + matrimonial rocks. + </p> + <p> + “I'd about made up my mind to sound the fog horn by askin' him straight + out what he was cal'latin' to do; but somethin' I heard one evenin', as I + set alone in the hotel office, made me think I'd better wait a spell. + </p> + <p> + “The office window was open and the curtain drawed down tight. I was + settin' inside, smokin' and goin' over the situation, when footsteps + sounded on the piazza and a couple come to anchor on the settee right by + that window. Cap'n Jonadab and Henrietta! I sensed that immediate. + </p> + <p> + “She was laughin' and actin' kind of queer, and he was talkin' mighty + earnest. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, no, Cap'n! Oh, no!' she giggles. 'You mustn't be so serious on such + a beautiful night as this. Let's talk about the moon.' + </p> + <p> + “'Drat the moon!' says Jonadab. 'Hettie, I—' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, just see how beautiful the water looks! All shiny and—” + </p> + <p> + “'Drat the water, too! Hettie, what's the reason you don't want to talk + serious with me? If that Tobe Loveland—' + </p> + <p> + “'Really, I don't see why you bring Mr. Loveland's name into the + conversation. He is a perfect gentleman, generous and kind; and as for the + way in which he runs that lovely car of his—' + </p> + <p> + “The Cap'n interrupted her. He ripped out somethin' emphatic. + </p> + <p> + “'Generous!' he snarls. ''Bout as generous as a hog in the feed trough, he + is. And as for runnin' that pesky auto, if I'd demean myself to own one of + them things, I'll bet my other suit I could run it better'n he does. If I + couldn't, I'd tie myself to the anchor and jump overboard.' + </p> + <p> + “The way she answered showed pretty plain that she didn't believe him. + 'Really?' she says. 'Do you think so? Good night, Jonadab.' + </p> + <p> + “I could hear her walkin' off acrost the piazza. He went after her. + 'Hettie,' he says, 'you answer me one thing. Are you engaged to Tobe + Loveland?' + </p> + <p> + “She laughed again, sort of teasin' and slow. 'Really,' says she, 'you are—Why, + no, I'm not.' + </p> + <p> + “That was all, but it set me to thinkin' hard. She wa'n't engaged to + Loveland; she said so, herself. And yet, if she wanted Jonadab, she was + actin' mighty funny. I ain't had no experience, but it seemed to me that + then was the time to bag him and she'd put him off on purpose. She was + ages too ancient to be a flirt for the fun of it. What was her game?” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0010" id="link2HCH0010"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER X + </h2> + <h3> + CAPTAIN JONADAB GOES + </h3> + <p> + Mr. Wingate stopped and roared a greeting to Captain Hiram Baker, who was + passing the open door of the waiting room. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, there, Hime!” he shouted. “Come up in here! What, are you too + proud to speak to common folks?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Hiram entered. “Hello!” he said. “You look like a busy gang, for + sure. What you doin'—seatin' chairs?” + </p> + <p> + “Just now we're automobilin',” observed Captain Sol. “Set down, Hiram.” + </p> + <p> + “Automobilin'?” repeated the new arrival, evidently puzzled. + </p> + <p> + “Sartin. Barzilla's takin' us out. Go on, Barzilla.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wingate smiled broadly. “Well,” he began, “we HAVE just about reached + the part where I went autoin'. The widow and me and Jonadab.” + </p> + <p> + “Jonadab!” shouted Stitt. “I thought you said—” + </p> + <p> + “I know what I said. But we went auto ridin' just the same. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas Henry G. Bradbury that took us out, him and his bran-new big + tourin' car. You see, he landed to board with us the next day after + Henrietta come—this Henry G. did—and he was so quiet and easy + spoken and run his car so slow that even a pizen auto hater like Jonadab + couldn't take much offense at him. He wa'n't very well, he said, subject + to some kind of heart attacks, and had come to the Old Home for rest. + </p> + <p> + “Him and the Cap'n had great arguments about the sins of automobilin'. + Jonadab was sot on the idee that nine folks out of ten hadn't machine + sense enough to run a car. Bradbury, he declared that that was a fact with + the majority of autos, but not with his. 'Why, a child could run it,' says + he. 'Look here, Cap'n: To start it you just do this. To stop it you do so + and so. To make her go slow you haul back on this lever. To make her go + faster you shove down this one. And as for steerin'—well, a man + that's handled the wheels of as many catboats as you have would simply + have a picnic. I'm in entire sympathy with your feelin's against speeders + and such—I'd be a constable if I was in your shoes—but this is + a gentleman's car and runs like one.' + </p> + <p> + “All Jonadab said was 'Bosh!' and 'Humph!' but he couldn't help actin' + interested, particular as Mrs. Bassett kept him alongside of the machine + and was so turrible interested herself. And when, this partic'lar + afternoon, Henry G. invites us all to go out with him for a little 'roll + around,' the widow was so tickled and insisted so that he just HAD to go; + he didn't dast say no. + </p> + <p> + “Somehow or 'nother—I ain't just sure yet how it happened—the + seatin' arrangements was made like this: Jonadab and Bradbury on the front + seat, and me and Henrietta in the stuffed cockpit astern. We rolled out + and purred along the road, smooth as a cat trottin' to dinner. No + speedin', no joltin', no nothin'. 'TWAS a 'gentleman's car'; there wa'n't + no doubt about that. + </p> + <p> + “We went 'way over to Bayport and Orham and beyond. And all the time + Bradbury kept p'intin' out the diff'rent levers to Jonadab and tellin' him + how to work 'em. Finally, after we'd headed back, he asked Jonadab to take + the wheel and steer her a spell. Said his heart was feelin' sort of mean + and 'twould do him good to rest. + </p> + <p> + “Jonadab said no, emphatic and more'n average ugly, but Henry G. kept + beggin' and pleadin', and pretty soon the widow put in her oar. He must do + it, to please her. He had SAID he could do it—had told her so—and + now he must make good. Why, when Mr. Loveland— + </p> + <p> + “'All right,' snarls Jonadab. 'I'll try. But if ever—' + </p> + <p> + “'Hold on!' says I. 'Here's where I get out.' + </p> + <p> + “However, they wouldn't let me, and the Cap'n took the wheel. His jaw was + set and his hands shakin', but he done it. Hettie had give her orders and + she was skipper. + </p> + <p> + “For a consider'ble spell we just crawled. Jonadab was steerin' less + crooked every minute and it tickled him; you could see that. + </p> + <p> + “'Answers her hellum tiptop, don't she?' he says. + </p> + <p> + “'Bet your life!' says Bradbury. 'Better put on a little more speed, + hadn't we?'” + </p> + <p> + He put it on himself, afore the new pilot could stop him, and we commenced + to move. + </p> + <p> + “'When you want to make her jump,' he says, you press down on that with + your foot, and you shove the spark back.' + </p> + <p> + “'Shut up!' howls Jonadab. 'Belay! Don't you dast to touch that. I'm scart + to death as 'tis. Here! you take this wheel.' + </p> + <p> + “But he wouldn't, and we went on at a good clip. For a green hand the + Cap'n was leavin' a pretty straight wake. + </p> + <p> + “'Gosh!' he says, after a spell; 'I b'lieve I'm kind of gettin' the hang + of the craft.' + </p> + <p> + “'Course you are,' says Bradbury. 'I told—Oh!' + </p> + <p> + “He straightens up, grabs at his vest, and slumps down against the back of + the seat. + </p> + <p> + “'What IS it?' screams the widow. 'Oh, what IS it, Mr. Bradbury?' + </p> + <p> + “He answers, plucky, but toler'ble faintlike. My heart!' he gasps. 'I—I'm + afraid I'm goin' to have one of my attacks. I must get to a doctor quick.' + </p> + <p> + “'Doctor!' I sings out. 'Great land of love! there ain't a doctor nigher + than Denboro, and that's four mile astern.' + </p> + <p> + “'Never mind,' cries the Bassett woman. 'We must go there, then. Turn + around, Jonadab! Turn around at once! Mr. Bradbury—' + </p> + <p> + “But poor Henry G. was curled up against the cushions and we couldn't get + nothin' out of him but groans. And all the time we was sailin' along up + the road. + </p> + <p> + “'Turn around, Jonadab!' orders Henrietta. 'Turn around and go for the + doctor!' + </p> + <p> + “Jonadab's hands was clutched on that wheel, and his face was white as his + rubber collar. + </p> + <p> + “'Jerushy!' he groans desperate, 'I—I don't know HOW to turn + around.' + </p> + <p> + “'Then stop, you foolhead!' I bellers. 'Stop where you be!' + </p> + <p> + “And he moans—almost cryin' he was: 'I—I've forgotten how to + STOP.' + </p> + <p> + “Talk about your situations! If we wa'n't in one then I miss my guess. + Every minute we was sinkin' Denboro below the horizon. + </p> + <p> + “'We MUST get to a doctor,' says the widow. 'Where is there another one, + Mr. Wingate?' + </p> + <p> + “'The next one's in Bayport,' says I, 'and that's ten mile ahead if it's a + foot.' + </p> + <p> + “However, there wa'n't nothin' else for it, so toward Bayport we put. + Bradbury groaned once in a while, and Mrs. Bassett got nervous. + </p> + <p> + “'We'll never get there at this rate,' says she. 'Go faster, Jonadab. + Faster! Press down on—on that thing he told you to. Please! for MY + sake.' + </p> + <p> + “'Don't you—' I begun; but 'twas too late. He pressed, and away we + went. We was eatin' up the road now, I tell you, and though I was + expectin' every minute to be my next, I couldn't help admirin' the way the + Cap'n steered. And, as for him, he was gettin' more and more set up and + confident. + </p> + <p> + “'She handles like a yacht, Barzilla,' he grunts, between his teeth. 'See + me put her around the next buoy ahead there. Hey! how's that?' + </p> + <p> + “The next 'buoy' was a curve in the road, and we went around it beautiful. + So with the next and the next and the next. Bayport wa'n't so very fur + ahead. All to once another dreadful thought struck me. + </p> + <p> + “'Look here!' I yells. 'How in time are we goin' to stop when we—OW!' + </p> + <p> + “The Bassett woman had pinched my arm somethin' savage. I looked at her, + and she was scowlin' and shakin' her head. + </p> + <p> + “'S-sh-sh!' she whispers. 'Don't disturb him. He'll be frightened and—' + </p> + <p> + “'Frightened! Good heavens to Betsy! I cal'late he won't be the only one + that's fri—' + </p> + <p> + “But she looked so ugly that I shut up prompt, though I done a heap of + thinkin'. On we went and, as we turned the next 'buoy,' there, ahead of + us, was another auto, somethin' like ours, with only one person in it, a + man, and goin' in the same direction we was, though not quite so fast. + </p> + <p> + “Then I WAS scart. 'Hi, Jonadab!' I sings out. 'Heave to! Come about! + Shorten sail! Do you want to run him down? Look OUT!' + </p> + <p> + “I might as well have saved my breath. Heavin' to and the rest of it + wa'n't included in our pilot's education. On we went, same as ever. I + don't know what might have happened if the widow hadn't kept her head. She + leaned over the for'ard rail of the after cockpit and squeezed a rubber + bag that was close to Jonadab's starboard arm. It was j'ined to the fog + whistle, I cal'late, 'cause from under our bows sounded a beller like a + bull afoul of a barb-wire fence. + </p> + <p> + “The feller in t'other car turned his head and looked. Then he commenced + to sheer off to wind'ard so's to let us pass. But all the time he kept + lookin' back and starin' and, as we got nigher, and I could see him + plainer through the dust, he looked more and more familiar. 'Twas somebody + I knew. + </p> + <p> + “Then I heard a little grunt, or gasp, from Cap'n Jonadab. He was leanin' + for'ard over the wheel, starin' at the man in the other auto. The nigher + we got, the harder he stared; and the man in front was actin' similar in + regards to him. And, all to once, the head car stopped swingin' off to + wind'ard, turned back toward the middle of the road, and begun to go like + smoke. The next instant I felt our machine fairly jump beneath me. I + looked at Jonadab's foot. 'Twas pressed hard down on the speed lever. + </p> + <p> + “'You crazy loon!' I screeched. 'You—you—you—Stop it! + Take your foot off that! Do you want to—!' + </p> + <p> + “I was climbin' over the back of the front seat, my knee pretty nigh on + Bradbury's head. But, would you believe it, that Jonadab man let go of the + wheel with one hand—let GO of it, mind you—and give me a shove + that sent me backward in Henrietta Bassett's lap. + </p> + <p> + “'Barzilla!' he growled, between his teeth, 'you set where you be and keep + off the quarterdeck. I'm runnin' this craft. I'll beat that Loveland this + time or run him under, one or t'other!' + </p> + <p> + “As sure as I'm alive this minute, the man in the front car was Tobias + Loveland! + </p> + <p> + “And from then on—Don't talk! I dream about it nights and wake up + with my arms around the bedpost. I ain't real sure, but I kind of have an + idee that the bedpost business comes from the fact that I was huggin' the + widow some of the time. If I did, 'twa'n't knowin'ly, and she never + mentioned it afterwards. All I can swear to is clouds of dust, and horns + honkin', and telegraph poles lookin' like teeth in a comb, and Jonadab's + face set as the Day of Judgment. + </p> + <p> + “He kept his foot down on the speed place as if 'twas glued. He shoved the + 'spark'—whatever that is—'way back. Every once in a while he + yelled, yelled at the top of his lungs. What he yelled hadn't no sense to + it. Sometimes you'd think that he was drivin' a horse and next that he was + handlin' a schooner in a gale. + </p> + <p> + “'Git dap!' he'd whoop. 'Go it, you cripples! Keep her nose right in the + teeth of it! She's got the best of the water, so let her bile! Whe-E-E!' + </p> + <p> + “We didn't stop at Bayport. Our skipper had made other arrangements. + However, the way I figgered it, we was long past needin' a doctor, and you + can get an undertaker 'most anywhere. We went through the village like a + couple of shootin' stars, Tobias about a length ahead, his hat blowed off, + his hair—what little he's got—streamin' out behind, and that + blessed red buzz wagon of his fairly skimmin' the hummocks and jumpin' the + smooth places. And right astern of him comes Jonadab, hangin' to the + wheel, HIS hat gone, his mouth open, and fillin' the dust with yells and + coughs. + </p> + <p> + “You could see folks runnin' to doors and front gates; but you never saw + 'em reach where they was goin'—time they done that we was somewheres + round the next bend. A pullet run over us once—yes, I mean just + that. She clawed the top of the widow's bunnit as we slid underneath her, + and by the time she lit we was so fur away she wa'n't visible to the naked + eye. Bradbury—who'd got better remarkable sudden—was pawin' at + Jonadab's arm, tryin' to make him ease up; but he might as well have pawed + the wind. As for Henrietta Bassett, she was acrost the back of the front + seat tootin' the horn for all she was wuth. And curled down in a heap on + the cockpit floor was a fleshy, sea-farin' person by the name of Barzilla + Wingate, sufferin' from chills and fever. + </p> + <p> + “I think 'twas on the long stretch of the Trumet road that we beat Tobias. + I know we passed somethin' then, though just what I ain't competent to + testify. All I'm sure of is that, t'other side of Bayport village, the + landscape got some less streaked and you could most gen'rally separate one + house from the next. + </p> + <p> + “Bradbury looked at Henrietta and smiled, a sort of sickly smile. She was + pretty pale, but she managed to smile back. I got up off the floor and + slumped on the cushions. As for Cap'n Jonadab Wixon, he'd stopped yellin', + but his face was one broad, serene grin. His mouth, through the dust and + the dirt caked around it, looked like a rain gully in a sand-bank. And, + occasional, he crowed, hoarse but vainglorious. + </p> + <p> + “'Did you see me?' he barked. 'Did you notice me lick him? He'll laugh at + me, will he?—him and his one-horse tin cart! Ho! HO! Why, you'd + think he was settin' down to rest! I've got him where I want him now! Ho, + ho! Say, Henrietta, did you go swift as you—? Land sakes! Mr. + Bradbury, I forgot all about you. And I—I guess we must have got a + good ways past the doctor's place.' + </p> + <p> + “Bradbury said never mind. He felt much better, and he cal'lated he'd do + till we fetched the Old Home dock. He'd take the wheel, now, he guessed. + </p> + <p> + “But, would you b'lieve it, that fool Jonadab wouldn't let him! He was + used to the ship now, he said, and, if 'twas all the same to Henry G. and + Hettie, he'd kind of like to run her into port. + </p> + <p> + “'She answers her hellum fine,' he says. 'After a little practice I + cal'late I could steer—' + </p> + <p> + “'Steer!' sings out Bradbury. 'STEER! Great Caesar's ghost! I give you my + word, Cap'n Wixon, I never saw such handlin' of a machine as you did goin' + through Bayport, in my life. You're a wonder!' + </p> + <p> + “'Um-hm,' says Jonadab contented. 'I've steered a good many vessels in my + time, through traffic and amongst the shoals, and never run afoul of + nothin' yet. I don't see much diff'rence on shore—'cept that it's a + little easier.' + </p> + <p> + “EASIER! Wouldn't that—Well, what's the use of talkin'? + </p> + <p> + “We got to the Old Home House safe and sound; Jonadab, actin' under + Bradbury's orders, run her into the yard, slowin' up and stoppin' at the + front steps slick as grease. He got out, his chest swelled up like a + puffin' pig, and went struttin' in to tell everybody what he'd done to + Loveland. I don't know where Bradbury and the widow went. As for me, I + went aloft and turned in. And 'twas two days and nights afore I got up + again. I had a cold, anyway, and what I'd been through didn't help it + none. + </p> + <p> + “The afternoon of the second day, Bradbury come up to see me. He was + dressed in his city clothes and looked as if he was goin' away. Sure + enough, he was; goin' on the next train. + </p> + <p> + “'Where's Jonadab?' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, he's out in his car,' he says. 'Huntin' for Loveland again, maybe.' + </p> + <p> + “'HIS car? You mean yours.' + </p> + <p> + “'No, I mean his. I sold my car to him yesterday mornin' for twenty-five + hundred dollars cash.' + </p> + <p> + “I set up in bed. 'Go 'long!' I sings out. 'You didn't nuther!' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, I did. Sure thing. After that ride, you couldn't have separated him + from that machine with blastin' powder. He paid over the money like a + little man.' + </p> + <p> + “I laid down again. Jonadab Wixon payin' twenty-five hundred dollars for a + plaything! Not promisin', but actually PAYIN' it! + </p> + <p> + “'Has—has the widow gone with him?' I asked, soon's I could get my + breath. + </p> + <p> + “He laughed sort of queer. 'No,' he says, 'she's gone out of town for a + few days. Ha, ha! Well, between you and me, Wingate, I doubt if she comes + back again. She and I have made all we're likely to in this neighborhood, + and she's too good a business woman to waste her time. Good-by; glad to + have met you.' + </p> + <p> + “But I smelt rat strong and wouldn't let him go without seein' the + critter. + </p> + <p> + “'Hold on!' I says. 'There's somethin' underneath all this. Out with it. I + won't let on to the Cap'n if you don't want me to.' + </p> + <p> + “'Well,' says he, laughin' again, 'Mrs. Bassett WON'T come back and I know + it. She and I have sold four cars on the Cape in the last five weeks, and + the profits'll more'n pay vacation expenses. Two up in Wareham, one over + in Orham, to Loveland—' + </p> + <p> + “'Did YOU sell Tobias his?' I asks, settin' up again. + </p> + <p> + “'Hettie and I did—yes. Soon's we landed him, we come over to bag + old Wixon. I thought one time he'd kill us before we got him, but he + didn't. How he did run that thing! He's a game sport.' + </p> + <p> + “'See here!' says I. 'YOU and Hettie sold—What do you mean by that?' + </p> + <p> + “'Mrs. Bassett is my backer in the auto business,' says he. 'She put in + her money and I furnished the experience. We've got a big plant up in—' + namin' a city in Connecticut. + </p> + <p> + “I fetched a long breath. 'WELL!' says I. 'And all this makin' eyes at + Tobe and Jonadab was just—just—' + </p> + <p> + “'Just bait, that's all,' says he. 'I told you she was a good business + woman.' + </p> + <p> + “I let this sink in good. Then says I, 'Humph! I swan to man! And how's + your heart actin' now?' + </p> + <p> + “'Fine!' he says, winkin'. 'I had that attack so's the Cap'n would learn + to run on his own hook. I didn't expect quite so much of a run, but I'm + satisfied. Don't you worry about my heart disease. That twenty-five + hundred cured it. 'Twas all in the way of business,' says Henry G. + Bradbury.” + </p> + <p> + “Whew!” whistled Captain Hiram as Barzilla reached into his pocket for + pipe and tobacco. “Whew! I should say your partner had a narrer escape. + Want to look out sharp for widders. They're dangerous, hey, Sol?” + </p> + <p> + The depot master did not answer. Captain Hiram asked another question. + “How'd Jonadab take Hettie's leavin'?” he inquired. + </p> + <p> + “Oh,” said Barzilla, “I don't think he minded so much. He was too crazy + about his new auto to care for anything else. Then, too, he was b'ilin' + mad 'cause Loveland swore out a warrant against him for speedin'. + </p> + <p> + “'Nice trick, ain't it?' he says. 'I knew Tobe was a poor loser, but I + didn't think he'd be so low down as all that. Says I was goin' fifty mile + an hour. He! he! Well, I WAS movin', that's a fact. I don't care. 'Twas + wuth the twenty-dollar fine.' + </p> + <p> + “'Maybe so,' I says, 'but 'twon't look very pretty to have a special auto + constable hauled up and fined for breakin' the law he's s'posed to + protect.' + </p> + <p> + “He hadn't thought of that. His face clouded over. + </p> + <p> + “'No use, Barzilla,' says he; 'I'll have to give it up.' + </p> + <p> + “'Guess you will,' says I. 'Automobilin' is—' + </p> + <p> + “'I don't mean automobilin',' he snorts disgusted. 'Course not! I mean + bein' constable.' + </p> + <p> + “So there you are! From cussin' automobiles he's got so that he can't talk + enough good about 'em. And every day sence then he's out on the road + layin' for another chance at Tobias. I hope he gets that chance pretty + soon, because—well, there's a rumor goin' round that Loveland is + plannin' to swap his car for a bigger and faster one. If he does . . .” + </p> + <p> + “If he does,” interrupted Captain Sol, “I hope you'll fix the next race + for over here. I'd like to see you go by, Barzilla.” + </p> + <p> + “Guess you'd have to look quick to see him,” laughed Stitt. “Speakin' + about automobiles—” + </p> + <p> + “By gum!” ejaculated Wingate, “you'd have to look somewheres else to find + ME. I've got all the auto racin' I want!” + </p> + <p> + “Speakin' of automobiles,” began Captain Bailey again. No one paid the + slightest attention. + </p> + <p> + “How's Dusenberry, your baby, Hiram?” asked the depot master, turning to + Captain Baker. “His birthday's the Fourth, and that's only a couple of + days off.” + </p> + <p> + The proud parent grinned, then looked troubled. + </p> + <p> + “Why, he ain't real fust-rate,” he said. “Seems to be some under the + weather. Got a cold and kind of sore throat. Dr. Parker says he cal'lates + it's a touch of tonsilitis. There's consider'ble fever, too. I was hopin' + the doctor'd come again to-day, but he's gone away on a fishin' cruise. + Won't be home till late to-morrer. I s'pose me and Sophrony hadn't ought + to worry. Dr. Parker seems to know about the case.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted the depot master, “there's only two bein's in creation + that know it all. One's the Almighty and t'other's young Parker. He's + right out of medical school and is just as fresh as his diploma. He hadn't + any business to go fishin' and leave his patients. We lost a good man when + old Dr. Ryder died. He . . . Oh, well! you mustn't worry, Hiram. + Dusenberry'll pull out in time for his birthday. Goin' to celebrate, was + you?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Baker nodded. “Um-hm,” he said. “Sophrony's goin' to bake a + frosted cake and stick three candles on it—he's three year old, you + know—and I've made him a 'twuly boat with sails,' that's what he's + been beggin' for. Ho! ho! he's the cutest little shaver!” + </p> + <p> + “Speakin' of automobiles,” began Bailey Stitt for the third time. + </p> + <p> + “That youngster of yours, Hiram,” went on the depot master, “is the right + kind. Compared with some of the summer young ones that strike this depot, + he's a saint.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Hiram grinned. “That's what I tell Sophrony,” he said. “Sometimes + when Dusenberry gets to cuttin' up and she is sort of provoked, I say to + her, 'Old lady,' I say, 'if you think THAT'S a naughty boy, you ought to + have seen Archibald.'” + </p> + <p> + “Who was Archibald?” asked Barzilla. + </p> + <p> + “He was a young rip that Sim Phinney and I run across four years ago when + we went on our New York cruise together. The weir business had been pretty + good and Sim had been teasin' me to go on a vacation with him, so I went. + Sim ain't stopped talkin' about our experiences yet. Ho! ho!” + </p> + <p> + “You bet he ain't!” laughed the depot master. “One mix-up you had with a + priest, and a love story, and land knows what. He talks about that to this + day.” + </p> + <p> + “What was it? He never told me,” said Wingate. + </p> + <p> + “Why, it begun at the Golconda House, the hotel where Sim and I was + stayin'. We—” + </p> + <p> + “Did YOU put up at the Golconda?” interrupted Barzilla. “Why, Cap'n + Jonadab and me stayed there when we went to New York.” + </p> + <p> + “I know you did. Jonadab recommended it to Sim, and Sim took the + recommendation. That Golconda House is the only grudge I've got against + Jonadab Wixon. It sartin is a tough old tavern.” + </p> + <p> + “I give in to that. Jonadab's so sot on it account of havin' stopped there + on his honeymoon, years and years ago. He's too stubborn to own it's bad. + It's a matter of principle with him, and he's sot on principle.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” continued Baker. “Well, Sim and me had been at that Golconda three + days and nights. Mornin' of the fourth day we walked out of the dinin' + room after breakfast, feelin' pretty average chipper. Gettin' safe past + another meal at that hotel was enough of itself to make a chap grateful. + </p> + <p> + “We walked out of the dinin' room and into the office. And there, by the + clerk's desk, was a big, tall man, dressed up in clothes that was loud + enough to speak for themselves, and with a shiny new tall hat, set with a + list to port, on his head. He was smooth-faced and pug-nosed, with an + upper lip like a camel's. + </p> + <p> + “He didn't pay much attention to us, nor to anybody else, for the matter + of that. He was as mournful as a hearse, for all his joyful togs. + </p> + <p> + “'Fine day, ain't it?' says Sim, social. + </p> + <p> + “The tall chap looked up at him from under the deck of the beaver hat. + </p> + <p> + “'Huh!' he growls out, and looks down again. + </p> + <p> + “'I say it's a fine day,' said Phinney again. + </p> + <p> + “'I was after hearin' yez say it,' says the man, and walks off, scowlin' + like a meat ax. We looked after him. + </p> + <p> + “'Who was that murderer?' asks Sim of the clerk. 'And when are they going + to hang him?' + </p> + <p> + “'S-sh-sh!' whispers the clerk, scart. ''Tis the boss. The bloke what runs + the hotel. He's a fine man, but he has troubles. He's blue.' + </p> + <p> + “'So that's the boss, hey?' says I. 'And he's blue. Well, he looks it. + What's troublin' him? Ain't business good?' + </p> + <p> + “'Never better. It ain't that. He has things on his mind. You see—' + </p> + <p> + “I cal'late he'd have told us the yarn, only Sim wouldn't wait to hear it. + We was goin' sight-seein' and we had 'aquarium' and 'Stock Exchange' on + the list for that afternoon. The hotel clerk had made out a kind of + schedule for us of things we'd ought to see while we was in New York, and + so fur we'd took in the zoological menagerie and the picture museum, and + Central Park and Brooklyn Bridge. + </p> + <p> + “On the way downtown in the elevated railroad Sim done some preachin'. His + text was took from the Golconda House sign, which had 'T. Dempsey, + Proprietor,' painted on it. + </p> + <p> + “'It's that Dempsey man's conscience that makes him so blue, Hiram,' says + Sim. 'It's the way he makes his money. He sells liquor.' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh!' says I. 'Is THAT it? I thought maybe he'd been sleepin' on one of + his own hotel beds. THEY'RE enough to make any man blue—black and + blue.' + </p> + <p> + “The 'aquarium' wa'n't a success. Phinney was disgusted. He give one look + around, grabbed me by the arm, and marched me out of that building same as + Deacon Titcomb, of the Holiness Church at Denboro, marched his boy out of + the Universalist sociable. + </p> + <p> + “'It's nothin' but a whole passel of fish,' he snorts. 'The idea of + sendin' two Cape Codders a couple of miles to look at FISH. I've looked at + 'em and fished for 'em, and et 'em all the days of my life,' he says, 'and + when I'm on a vacation I want a change. I'd forgot that “aquarium” meant + fish, or you wouldn't have got me within smellin' distance of it. + Necessity's one thing and pleasure's another, as the boy said about takin' + his ma's spring bitters.' + </p> + <p> + “So we headed for the Stock Exchange. We got our gallery tickets at the + bank where the Golconda folks kept money, and in a little while we was + leanin' over a kind of marble bulwarks and starin' down at a gang of men + smokin' and foolin' and carryin' on. 'Twas a dull day, so we found out + afterward, and I guess likely that was true. Anyway, I never see such + grown-up men act so much like children. There was a lot of poles stuck up + around with signs on 'em, and around every pole was a circle of bedlamites + hollerin' like loons. Hollerin' was the nighest to work of anything I see + them fellers do, unless 'twas tearin' up papers and shovin' the pieces + down somebody's neck or throwin' 'em in the air like a play-actin' + snowstorm. + </p> + <p> + “'What's the matter with 'em?' says I. 'High finance taken away their + brains?' + </p> + <p> + “But Phinney was awful interested. He dumped some money in a mine once. + The mine caved in on it, I guess, for not a red cent ever come to the top + again, but he's been a kind of prophet concernin' finances ever sence. + </p> + <p> + “'I want to see the big fellers,' says he. 'S'pose that fat one is + Morgan?' + </p> + <p> + “'I don't know,' says I. 'Me and Pierpont ain't met for ever so long. + Don't lean over and point so; you're makin' a hit.' + </p> + <p> + “He was, too. Some of the younger crew on the floor was lookin' up and + grinnin', and more kept stoppin' and joinin' in all the time. I cal'late + we looked kind of green and soft, hangin' over that marble rail, like + posies on a tombstone; and green is the favorite color to a stockbroker, + they tell me. Anyhow, we had a good-sized congregation under us in less + than no time. Likewise, they got chatty, and commenced to unload remarks. + </p> + <p> + “'Land sakes!' says one. 'How's punkins?' + </p> + <p> + “'How's crops down your way?' says another. + </p> + <p> + “Now there wa'n't nothin' real bright and funny about these questions—more + fresh than new, they struck me—but you'd think they was gems from + the comic almanac, jedgin' by the haw-haws. Next minute a little + bald-headed smart Alec, with clothes that had a tailor's sign hull down + and out of the race, steps to the front and commences to make a speech. + </p> + <p> + “'Gosh t'mighty, gents,' says he. 'With your kind permission, I'll sing + “When Reuben Comes to Town.”' + </p> + <p> + “And he did sing it, too, in a voice that needed cultivatin' worse'n a + sandy front yard. And with every verse the congregation whooped and + laughed and cheered. When the anthem was concluded, all hands set up a + yell and looked at us to see how we took it. + </p> + <p> + “As for me, I was b'ilin' mad and mortified and redhot all over. But Sim + Phinney was as cool as an October evenin'. Once in a while old Sim comes + out right down brilliant, and he done it now. He smiled, kind of tolerant + and easy, same as you might at the tricks of a hand-organ monkey. Then he + claps his hands, applaudin' like, reaches into his pocket, brings up a + couple of pennies, and tosses 'em down to little baldhead, who was + standin' there blown up with pride. + </p> + <p> + “For a minute the crowd was still. And THEN such a yell as went up! The + whole floor went wild. Next thing I knew the gallery was filled with + brokers, grabbin' us by the hands, poundin' us on the back, beggin' us to + come have a drink, and generally goin' crazy. We was solid with the + 'system' for once in our lives. We could have had that whole buildin', + from marble decks to gold maintruck, if we'd said the word. Fifty yellin' + lunatics was on hand to give it to us; the other two hundred was joyfully + mutilatin' the baldhead. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wanted to get away, and so did Sim, I guess; but the crowd + wouldn't let us. We'd got to have a drink; hogsheads of drinks. That was + the best joke on Eddie Lewisburg that ever was. Come on! We MUST come on! + Whee! Wow! + </p> + <p> + “I don't know how it would have ended if some one hadn't butted head first + through the mob and grabbed me by the shoulder. I was ready to fight by + this time, and maybe I'd have begun to fight if the chap who grabbed me + hadn't been a few inches short of seven foot high. And, besides that, I + knew him. 'Twas Sam Holden, a young feller I knew when he boarded here one + summer. His wife boarded here, too, only she wa'n't his wife then. Her + name was Grace Hargrave and she was a fine girl. Maybe you remember 'em, + Sol?” + </p> + <p> + The depot master nodded. + </p> + <p> + “I remember 'em well,” he said. “Liked 'em both—everybody did.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Well, he knew us and was glad to see us. + </p> + <p> + “'It IS you!' he sings out. 'By George! I thought it was when I came on + the floor just now. My! but I'm glad to see you. And Mr. Phinney, too! + Bully! Clear out and let 'em alone, you Indians.' + </p> + <p> + “The crowd didn't want to let us alone, but Sam got us clear somehow, and + out of the Exchange Buildin' and into the back room of a kind of + restaurant. Then he gets chairs for us, orders cigars, and shakes hands + once more. + </p> + <p> + “'To think of seein' you two in New York!' he says, wonderin'. 'What are + you doin' here? When did you come? Tell us about it.' + </p> + <p> + “So we told him about our pleasure cruise, and what had happened to us so + fur. It seemed to tickle him 'most to death. + </p> + <p> + “'Grace and I are keepin' house, in a modest way, uptown,' says Sam, 'and + she'll be as glad to see you as I am. You're comin' up to dinner with me + to-night, and you're goin' to make us a visit, you know,' he says. + </p> + <p> + “Well, if we didn't know it then, we learned it right away. Nothin' that + me or Simeon could say would make him change the course a point. So + Phinney went up to the Golconda House and got our bags, and at half-past + four that afternoon the three of us was in a hired hack bound uptown. + </p> + <p> + “On the way Sam was full of fun as ever. He laughed and joked, and asked + questions about East Harniss till you couldn't rest. All of a sudden he + slaps his knee and sings out: + </p> + <p> + “'There! I knew I'd forgotten somethin'. Our butler left yesterday, and I + was to call at the intelligence office on my way home and see if they'd + scared up a new one.' + </p> + <p> + “I looked at Simeon, and he at me. + </p> + <p> + “'Hum!' says I, thinkin' about that 'modest' housekeepin'. 'Do you keep a + butler?' + </p> + <p> + “'Not long,' says he, dry as a salt codfish. And that's all we could get + out of him. + </p> + <p> + “I s'pose there's different kinds of modesty. We hadn't more'n got inside + the gold-plated front door of that house when I decided that the Holden + brand of housekeepin' wa'n't bashful enough to blush. If I'D been runnin' + that kind of a place, the only time I'd felt shy and retirin' was when the + landlord came for the rent. + </p> + <p> + “One of the fo'mast hands—hired girls, I mean—went aloft to + fetch Mrs. Holden, and when Grace came down she was just as nice and + folksy and glad to see us as a body could be. But she looked sort of + troubled, just the same. + </p> + <p> + “'I'm ever so glad you're here,' says she to me and Simeon. 'But, oh, Sam! + it's a shame the way things happen. Cousin Harriet and Archie came this + afternoon to stay until to-morrow. They're on their way South. And I have + promised that you and I shall take Harriet to see Marlowe to-night. Of + course we won't do it now, under any consideration, but you know what she + is.' + </p> + <p> + “Sam seemed to know. He muttered somethin' that sounded like a Scripture + text. Simeon spoke up prompt. + </p> + <p> + “'Indeed you will,' says he, decided. 'Me and Hiram ain't that kind. We've + got relations of our own, and we know what it means when they come + a-visitin'. You and Mr. Holden'll take your comp'ny and go to see—whatever + 'tis you want to see, and we'll make ourselves to home till you get back. + Yes, you will, or we clear out this minute.' + </p> + <p> + “They didn't want to, but we was sot, and so they give in finally. It + seemed that this Cousin Harriet was a widow relation of the Holdens, who + lived in a swell country house over in Connecticut somewhere, and was rich + as the rest of the tribe. Archie was her son. 'Hers and the Evil One's,' + Sam said. + </p> + <p> + “We didn't realize how much truth there was in this last part until we run + afoul of Archie and his ma at dinner time. Cousin Harriet was tall and + middlin' slim, thirty-five years old, maybe, at a sale for taxes, but + discounted to twenty at her own valuation. She was got up regardless, and + had a kind of chronic, tired way of talkin', and a condescendin' look to + her, as if she was on top of Bunker Hill monument, and all creation was on + its knees down below. She didn't warm up to Simeon and me much; eyed us + over through a pair of gilt spyglasses, and admitted that she was + 'charmed, I'm sure.' Likewise, she was afflicted with 'nerves,' which must + be a divil of a disease—for everybody but the patient, especial. + </p> + <p> + “Archie—his ma hailed him as 'Archibald, dear'—showed up + pretty soon in tow of his 'maid,' a sweet-faced, tired-out Irish girl + named Margaret. 'Archibald, dear,' was five years old or so, sufferin' + from curls and the lack of a lickin'. I never see a young one that needed + a strap ile more. + </p> + <p> + “'How d'ye do Archie?' says Simeon, holdin' out his hand. + </p> + <p> + “Archie didn't take the hand. Instead of that he points at Phinney and + commences to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “'Ho, ho!' says he, dancin' and pointin'. 'Look at the funny whiskers.' + </p> + <p> + “Sim wa'n't expectin' that, and it set him all aback, like he'd run into a + head squall. He took hold of his beard and looked foolish. Sam and Grace + looked ashamed and mad. Cousin Harriet laughed one of her lazy laughs. + </p> + <p> + “'Archibald, de-ar,' she drawls, 'you mustn't speak that way. Now be nice, + and play with Margaret durin' dinner, that's a good boy.' + </p> + <p> + “'I won't,' remarks Archie, cheerful. 'I'm goin' to dine with you, mama.' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, no, you're not, dear. You'll have your own little table, and—' + </p> + <p> + “Then 'twas' Hi, yi!' 'Bow, wow!' Archibald wa'n't hankerin' for little + tables. He was goin' to eat with us, that's what. His ma, she argued with + him and pleaded, and he yelled and stamped and hurrahed. When Margaret + tried to soothe him he went at her like a wild-cat, and kicked and pounded + her sinful. She tried to take him out of the room, and then Cousin Harriet + come down on her like a scow load of brick. + </p> + <p> + “'Haven't I told you,' says she, sharp and vinegary, 'not to oppose the + child in that way? Archibald has such a sensitive nature,' she says to + Grace, 'that opposition arouses him just as it did me at his age. Very + well, dear; you MAY dine with us to-night, if you wish. Oh, my poor + nerves! Margaret, why don't you place a chair for Master Archibald? The + creature is absolutely stupid at times,' she says, talkin' about that poor + maid afore her face with no more thought for her feelin's than if she was + a wooden image. 'She has no tact whatever. I wouldn't have Archibald's + spirit broken for anything.' + </p> + <p> + “'Twas his neck that needed breakin' if you asked ME. That was a joyful + meal, now I tell you. + </p> + <p> + “There was more joy when 'twas over. Archie didn't want to go to bed, + havin' desires to set up and torment Simeon with questions about his + whiskers; askin' if they growed or was tied on, and things like that. + Course he didn't know his ma was goin' to the show, or he wouldn't have + let her. But finally he was coaxed upstairs by Margaret and a box of + candy, and, word havin' been sent down that he was asleep, Sam got out his + plug hat, and Grace and Cousin Harriet got on their fur-lined dolmans and + knit clouds, and was ready for the hack. + </p> + <p> + “'I feel mighty mean to go off and leave you this way,' says Sam to me and + Simeon. 'But you make yourself at home, won't you? This is your house + to-night, you know; servants and all.' + </p> + <p> + “'How about that boy's wakin' up?' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, his maid'll attend to him. If she needs any help you can give it to + her,' he says, winkin' on the side. + </p> + <p> + “But Cousin Harriet was right at his starboard beam, and she heard him. + She flew up like a settin' hen. + </p> + <p> + “'Indeed they will NOT!' she sings out. 'If anyone but Margaret was to + attempt to control Archibald, I don't dare think what might happen. I + shall not stir from this spot until these persons promise not to interfere + in ANY way; Archibald, dear, is such a sensitive child.' + </p> + <p> + “So we promised not to interfere, although Sim Phinney looked disappointed + when he done it. I could see that he'd had hopes afore he give that + promise.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0011" id="link2HCH0011"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XI + </h2> + <h3> + IN THE GREAT METROPOLIS + </h3> + <p> + “So they left you and Sim Phinney to keep house, did they, Hiram?” + observed Wingate. + </p> + <p> + “They did. And, for a spell, we figgered on bein' free from too much + style. + </p> + <p> + “After they'd gone we loafed into the settin' room or libr'ry, or whatever + you call it, and come to anchor in a couple of big lazy chairs. + </p> + <p> + “'Now,' says I, takin' off my coat, 'we can be comf'table.' + </p> + <p> + “But we couldn't. In bobs a servant girl to know if we 'wanted anything.' + We didn't, but she looked so shocked when she see me in my shirt sleeves + that I put the coat on again, feelin' as if I'd ought to blush. And in a + minute back she comes to find out if we was SURE we didn't want anything. + Sim was hitchin' in his chair. Between 'nerves' and Archibald, his temper + was raw on the edges. + </p> + <p> + “'Say,' he bursts out, 'you look kind of pale to me. What you need is + fresh air. Why don't you go take a walk?' + </p> + <p> + “The girl looked at him with her mouth open. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh,' says she, 'I couldn't do that, thank you, sir. That would leave no + one but the cook and the kitchen girl. And the master said you was to be + made perfectly comf'table, and—' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes,' says Sim, dry, 'I heard him say it. And we can't be comf'table + with you shut up in the house this nice evenin'. Go and take a walk, and + take the cook and stewardess with you. Don't argue about it. I'm skipper + here till the boss gets back. Go, the three of you, and go NOW. D'ye + hear?' + </p> + <p> + “There was a little more talk, but not much. In five minutes or so the + downstairs front door banged, and there was gigglin' outside. + </p> + <p> + “'There,' says Simeon, peelin' off HIS coat and throwin' himself back in + one chair with his feet on another one. 'Now, by Judas, I'm goin' to be + homey and happy like poor folks. I don't wonder that Harriet woman's got + nerves. Darn style, anyhow! Pass over that cigar box, Hiram.' + </p> + <p> + “'Twas half an hour later or so when Margaret, the nursemaid, came + downstairs. I'd almost forgot her. We was tame and toler'ble contented by + that time. Phinney called to her as she went by the door. + </p> + <p> + “'Is that young one asleep?' he asked. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, sir,' says she, 'he is. Is there anything I can do? Did you want + anything?' + </p> + <p> + “Simeon looks at me. 'I swan to man, it's catchin'!' he says. 'They've all + got it. No, we don't want anything, except—What's the matter? YOU + don't need fresh air, do you?' + </p> + <p> + “The girl looked as if she'd lost her last friend. Her pretty face was + pale and her eyes was wet, as if she'd been cryin'. + </p> + <p> + “'No, sir,' says she, puzzled. 'No, sir, thank you, sir.' + </p> + <p> + “'She's tired out, that's all,' says I. I swan, I pitied the poor thing. + 'You go somewheres and take a nap,' I told her. 'Me and my friend won't + tell.' + </p> + <p> + “Oh, no, she couldn't do that. It wa'n't that she was tired—no more + tired than usual—but she'd been that troubled in her mind lately, + askin' our pardon, that she was near to crazy. + </p> + <p> + “We was sorry for that, but it didn't seem to be none of our business, and + she was turnin' away, when all at once she stops and turns back again. + </p> + <p> + “'Might I ask you gintlemen a question?' she says, sort of pleadin'. 'Sure + I mane no harm by it. Do aither of you know a man be the name of Michael + O'Shaughnessy?' + </p> + <p> + “Me and Sim looked at each other. 'Which?' says I. 'Mike O' who?' says + Simeon. + </p> + <p> + “'Aw, don't you know him?' she begs. 'DON'T you know him? Sure I hoped you + might. If you'd only tell me where he is I'd git on me knees and pray for + you. O Mike, Mike! why did you leave me like this? What'll become of me?' + </p> + <p> + “And she walks off down the hall, coverin' her face with her hands and + cryin' as if her heart was broke. + </p> + <p> + “'There! there!' says Simeon, runnin' after her, all shook up. He's a + kind-hearted man—especially to nice-lookin' females. 'Don't act so,' + he says. 'Be a good girl. Come right back into the settin' room and tell + me all about it. Me and Cap'n Baker ain't got nerves, and we ain't rich, + neither. You can talk to us. Come, come!' + </p> + <p> + “She didn't know how to act, seemingly. She was like a dog that's been + kicked so often he's suspicious of a pat on the head. And she was cryin' + and sobbin' so, and askin' our pardon for doin' it, that it took a good + while to get at the real yarn. But we did get it, after a spell. + </p> + <p> + “It seems that the girl—her whole name was Margaret Sullivan—had + been in this country but a month or so, havin' come from Ireland in a + steamboat to meet the feller who'd kept comp'ny with her over there. His + name was Michael O'Shaughnessy, and he'd been in America for four years or + more, livin' with a cousin in Long Island City. And he'd got a good job at + last, and he sent for her to come on and be married to him. And when she + landed 'twas the cousin that met her. Mike had drawn a + five-thousand-dollar prize in the Mexican lottery a week afore, and hadn't + been seen sence. + </p> + <p> + “So poor Margaret goes to the cousin's to stay. And she found them poor as + Job's pet chicken, and havin' hardly grub enough aboard to feed the dozen + or so little cousins, let alone free boarders like her. And so, havin' no + money, she goes out one day to an intelligence office where they deal in + help, and puts in a blank askin' for a job as servant girl. 'Twas a swell + place, where bigbugs done their tradin', and there she runs into Cousin + Harriet, who was a chronic customer, always out of servants, owin' to the + complications of Archibald and nerves. And Harriet hires her, because she + was pretty and would work for a shavin' more'n nothin', and carts her + right off to Connecticut. And when Margaret sets out to write for her + trunk, and to tell where she is, she finds she's lost the cousin's + address, and can't remember whether it's Umpty-eighth Street or Tin Can + Avenue. + </p> + <p> + “'And, oh,' says she, 'what SHALL I do? The mistress is that hard to + please, and the child is that wicked till I want to die. And I have no + money and no friends. O Mike! Mike!' she says. 'If you only knew you'd + come to me. For it's a good heart he has, although the five thousand + dollars carried away his head,' says she. + </p> + <p> + “I don't believe I ever wanted to make a feller's acquaintance more than I + done that O'Shaughnessy man's. The mean blackguard, to leave his girl that + way. And 'twas easy to see what she'd been through with Cousin Harriet and + that brat. We tried to comfort her all we could; promised to have a hunt + through Long Island and the directory, and to help get her another place + when she got back from the South, and so on. But 'twas kind of + unsatisfactory. 'Twas her Mike she wanted. + </p> + <p> + “'I told the Father about it at the church up there,' she says, 'and he + wrote, but the letters was lost, I guess. And I thought if I might see a + priest here in New York he might help me. But the mistress is to go at + noon to-morrer, and I'll have no time. What SHALL I do?' says she, and + commenced to cry again. + </p> + <p> + “Then I had an idea. 'Priest?' says I. 'There's a fine big church, with a + cross on the ridgepole of it, not five minutes' walk from this house. I + see it as we was comin' up. Why don't you run down there this minute?' I + says. + </p> + <p> + “No, she didn't want to leave Archibald. Suppose he should wake up. + </p> + <p> + “'All right,' says I. 'Then I'll go myself. And I'll fetch a priest up + here if I have to tote him on my back, like the feller does the codfish in + the advertisin' picture.' + </p> + <p> + “I didn't have to tote him. He lived in a mighty fine house, hitched onto + the church, and there was half a dozen assistant parsons to help him do + his preachin'. But he was big and fat and gray-haired and as jolly and as + kind-hearted a feller as you'd want to meet. He said he'd come right + along; and he done it. + </p> + <p> + “Phinney opened the door for us. 'What's the row?' says I, lookin' at his + face. + </p> + <p> + “'Row?' he snorts; 'there's row enough for six. That da—excuse me, + mister—that cussed Archibald has woke up.' + </p> + <p> + “He had; there wa'n't no doubt about it. And he was raisin' hob, too. The + candy, mixed up with the dinner, had put his works in line with his + disposition, and he was poundin' and yellin' upstairs enough to wake the + dead. Margaret leaned over the balusters. + </p> + <p> + “'Is it the Father?' she says. 'Oh, dear! what'll I do?' + </p> + <p> + “'Send some of the other servants to the boy,' says the priest, 'and come + down yourself.' + </p> + <p> + “Simeon, lookin' kind of foolish, explained what had become of the other + servants. Father McGrath—that was his name—laughed and shook + all over. + </p> + <p> + “'Very well,' says he. 'Then bring the young man down. Perhaps he'll be + quiet here.' + </p> + <p> + “So pretty soon down come Margaret with Archibald, full of the Old + Scratch, as usual, dressed up gay in a kind of red blanket nighty, with a + rope around the middle of it. The young one spotted Simeon, and set up a + whoop. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! there's the funny whiskers,' he sings out. + </p> + <p> + “'Good evenin', my son,' says the priest. + </p> + <p> + “'Who's the fat man?' remarks Archibald, sociable. 'I never saw such a red + fat man. What makes him so red and fat?' + </p> + <p> + “These questions didn't make Father McGrath any paler. He laughed, of + course, but not as if 'twas the funniest thing he ever heard. + </p> + <p> + “'So you think I'm fat, do you, my boy?' says he. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, I do,' says Archibald. 'Fat and red and funny. Most as funny as the + whisker man. I never saw such funny-lookin' people.' + </p> + <p> + “He commenced to point and holler and laugh. Poor Margaret was so shocked + and mortified she didn't know what to do. + </p> + <p> + “'Stop your noise, sonny,' says I. 'This gentleman wants to talk to your + nurse.' + </p> + <p> + “The answer I got was some unexpected. + </p> + <p> + “'What makes your feet so big?' says Archie, pointin' at my Sunday boots. + 'Why do you wear shoes like that? Can't you help it? You're funny, too, + aren't you? You're funnier than the rest of 'em.' + </p> + <p> + “We all went into the library then, and Father McGrath tried to ask + Margaret some questions. I'd told him the heft of the yarn on the way from + the church, and he was interested. But the questionin' was mighty + unsatisfyin'. Archibald was the whole team, and the rest of us was yeller + dogs under the wagon. + </p> + <p> + “'Can't you keep that child quiet?' asks the priest, at last, losin' his + temper and speakin' pretty sharp. + </p> + <p> + “'O Archie, dear! DO be a nice boy,' begs Margaret, for the eight + hundredth time. + </p> + <p> + “'Why don't you punish him as he deserves?' + </p> + <p> + “'Father, dear, I can't. The mistress says he's so sensitive that he has + to have his own way. I'd lose my place if I laid a hand on him.' + </p> + <p> + “'Come on into the parlor and see the pictures, Archie,' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'I won't,' says Archibald. 'I'm goin' to stay here and see the fat man + make faces.' + </p> + <p> + “'You see,' says Sim, apologizin' 'we can't touch him, 'cause we promised + his ma not to interfere. And my right hand's got cramps in the palm of it + this minute,' he adds, glarin' at the young one. + </p> + <p> + “Father McGrath stood up and reached for his hat. Margaret began to cry. + Archibald, dear, whooped and kicked the furniture. And just then the + front-door bell rang. + </p> + <p> + “For a minute I thought 'twas Cousin Harriet and the Holdens come back, + but then I knew it was hours too early for that. Margaret was too much + upset to be fit for company, so I answered the bell myself. And who in the + world should be standin' on the steps but that big Dempsey man, the boss + of the Golconda House, where me and Simeon had been stayin'; the feller + we'd spoke to that very mornin'. + </p> + <p> + “'Good evenin', sor,' says he, in a voice as deep as a well. 'I'm glad to + find you to home, sor. There's a telegram come for you at my place,' he + says, 'and as your friend lift the address when he come for the baggage + this afternoon, I brought it along to yez. I was comin' this way, so 'twas + no trouble.' + </p> + <p> + “'That's real kind of you,' I says. 'Step inside a minute, won't you?' + </p> + <p> + “So in he comes, and stands, holdin' his shiny beaver in his hand, while I + tore open the telegram envelope. 'Twas a message from a feller I knew with + the Clyde Line of steamboats. He had found out, somehow, that we was in + New York, and the telegram was an order for us to come and make him a + visit. + </p> + <p> + “'I hope it's not bad news, sor,' says the big chap. + </p> + <p> + “'No, no,' says I. 'Not a bit of it, Mr. Dempsey. Come on in and have a + cigar, won't you?' + </p> + <p> + “'Thank you, sor,' says he. 'I'm glad it's not the bad news. Sure, I ax + you and your friend's pardon for bein' so short to yez this mornin', but + I'm in that throuble lately that me timper is all but gone.' + </p> + <p> + “'That so?' says I. 'Trouble's thick in this world, ain't it? Me and Mr. + Phinney got a case of trouble on our hands now, Mr. Dempsey, and—' + </p> + <p> + “'Excuse me, sor,' he says. 'My name's not Dempsey. I suppose you seen the + sign with me partner's name on it. I only bought into the business a while + ago, and the new sign's not ready yit. Me name is O'Shaughnessy, sor.' + </p> + <p> + “'What?' says I. And then: 'WHAT?' + </p> + <p> + “'O'Shaughnessy. Michael O'Shaughnessy. I—' + </p> + <p> + “'Hold on!' I sung out. 'For the land sakes, hold on! WHAT'S your name?' + </p> + <p> + “He bristled up like a cat. + </p> + <p> + “'Michael O'Shaughnessy,' he roars, like the bull of Bashan. 'D'yez find + any fault with it? 'Twas me father's before me—Michael Patrick + O'Shaughnessy, of County Sligo. I'll have yez know—WHAT'S THAT?' + </p> + <p> + “'Twas a scream from the libr'ry. Next thing I knew, Margaret, the nurse + girl, was standin' in the hall, white as a Sunday shirt, and swingin' back + and forth like a wild-carrot stalk in a gale. + </p> + <p> + “'Mike!' says she, kind of low and faint. 'Mary be good to us! MIKE!' + </p> + <p> + “And the big chap dropped his tall hat on the floor and turned as white as + she was. + </p> + <p> + “'MAGGIE!' he hollers. And then they closed in on one another. + </p> + <p> + “Sim and the priest and Archie had followed the girl into the hall. Me and + Phinney was too flabbergasted to do anything, but big Father McGrath was + cool as an ice box. When Archibald, like the little imp he was, sets up a + whoop and dives for them two, the priest grabs him by the rope of the + blanket nighty and swings him into the libr'ry, and shuts the door on him. + </p> + <p> + “'And now,' says he, takin' Sim and me by the arms and leadin' us to the + parlor, 'we'll just step in here and wait a bit.' + </p> + <p> + “We waited, maybe, ten minutes. Archibald, dear, shut up in the libr'ry, + was howlin' blue murder, but nobody paid any attention to him. Then there + was a knock on the door between us and the hall, and Father McGrath opened + it. There they was, the two of 'em—Mike and Maggie—lookin' red + and foolish—but happy, don't talk! + </p> + <p> + “'You see, sor,' says the O'Shaughnessy man to me, ''twas the + five-thousand-dollar prize that done it. I'd been workin' at me trade, sor—larnin' + to tind bar it was—and I'd just got a new job where the pay was + pretty good, and I'd sint over for Maggie, and was plannin' for the little + flat we was to have, and the like of that, when I drew that prize. And the + joy of it was like handin' me a jolt on the jaw. It put me out for two + weeks, sor, and when I come to I was in Baltimore, where I'd gone to + collect the money; and two thousand of the five was gone, and I knew me + job in New York was gone, and I was that shamed and sick it took me three + days more to make up me mind to come to me Cousin Tim's, where I knew + Maggie'd be waitin' for me. And when I did come back she was gone, too.' + </p> + <p> + “'And then,' says Father McGrath, sharp, 'I suppose you went on another + spree, and spent the rest of the money.' + </p> + <p> + “'I did not, sor—axin' your pardon for contradictin' your riverence. + I signed the pledge, and I'll keep it, with Maggie to help me. I put me + three thousand into a partnership with me friend Dempsey, who was runnin' + the Golconda House—'tis over on the East Side, with a fine bar trade—and + I'm doin' well, barrin' that I've been crazy for this poor girl, and + advertisin' and—' + </p> + <p> + “'And look at the clothes of him!' sings out Margaret, reverentlike. 'And + is that YOUR tall hat, Mike? To think of you with a tall hat! Sure it's a + proud girl I am this day. Saints forgive me, I've forgot Archie!' + </p> + <p> + “And afore we could stop her she'd run into the hall and unfastened the + libr'ry door. It took her some time to smooth down the young one's + sensitive feelin's, and while she was gone, me and Simeon told the + O'Shaughnessy man a little of what his girl had had to put up with along + of Cousin Harriet and Archibald. He was mad. + </p> + <p> + “'Is that the little blackguard?' he asks, pointin' to Archibald, who had + arrived by now. + </p> + <p> + “'That's the one,' says I. + </p> + <p> + “Archibald looked up at him and grinned, sassy as ever. + </p> + <p> + “'Father McGrath,' asks O'Shaughnessy, determined like, 'can you marry us + this night?' + </p> + <p> + “'I can,' says the Father. + </p> + <p> + “'And will yez?' + </p> + <p> + “'I will, with pleasure.' + </p> + <p> + “'Maggie,' says Mike, 'get your hat and jacket on and come with the Father + and me this minute. These gintlemen here will explain to your lady when + she comes back. But YOU'LL come back no more. We'll send for your trunk + to-morrer.' + </p> + <p> + “Even then the girl hesitated. She'd been so used to bein' a slave that I + suppose she couldn't realize she was free at last. + </p> + <p> + “'But, Mike, dear,' she says. 'I—oh, your lovely hat! Put it down, + Archie, darlin'. Put it down!' + </p> + <p> + “Archibald had been doin' a little cruisin' on his own hook, and he'd dug + up Mike's shiny beaver where it had been dropped in the hall. Now he was + dancin' round with it, bangin' it on the top as if it was a drum. + </p> + <p> + “'Put it down, PLEASE!' pleads Margaret. 'Twas plain that that plug was a + crown of glory to her. + </p> + <p> + “'Drop it, you little thafe!' yells O'Shaughnessy, makin' a dive for the + boy. + </p> + <p> + “'I won't!' screams Archibald, and starts to run. He tripped over the + corner of a mat, and fell flat. The plug hat was underneath him, and it + fell flat, too. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! oh! oh!' wails Margaret, wringin' her hands. 'Your beautiful hat, + Mike!' + </p> + <p> + “Mike's face was like a sunset. + </p> + <p> + “'Your reverence,' says he, 'tell me this; don't the wife promise to + “obey” in the marriage service?' + </p> + <p> + “'She does,' says Father McGrath. + </p> + <p> + “'D'ye hear that, you that's to be Margaret O'Shaughnessy? You do? Well, + then, as your husband that's to be in tin minutes, I order you to give + that small divil what's comin' to him. D'ye hear me? Will yez obey me, or + will yez not?' + </p> + <p> + “She didn't know what to do. You could see she wanted to—her fingers + was itchin' to do it, but—And then Archie held up the ruins of the + hat and commenced to laugh. + </p> + <p> + “That settled it. Next minute he was across her knee and gettin' what he'd + been sufferin' for ever sence he was born; and gettin' all the back + numbers along with it, too. + </p> + <p> + “And in the midst of the performance Sim Phinney leans over to me with the + most heavenly, resigned expression on his face, and says he: + </p> + <p> + “'It ain't OUR fault, Hiram. We promised not to interfere.'” + </p> + <p> + “What did Sam Holden and his wife say when they got home?” asked Captain + Sol, when the triumphant whoops over Archibald's righteous chastisement + had subsided. + </p> + <p> + “We didn't give him much of a chance to say anything. I laid for him in + the hall when he arrived and told him that Phinney had got a telegram and + must leave immediate. He wanted to know why, and a whole lot more, but I + told him we'd write it. Neither Sim nor me cared to face Cousin Harriet + after her darlin' son had spun his yarn. Ha! ha! I'd like to have seen her + face—from a safe distance.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Bailey Stitt cleared his throat. “Referrin' to them automobiles,” + he said, “I—” + </p> + <p> + “Say, Sol,” interrupted Wingate, “did I ever tell you of Cap'n Jonadab's + and my gettin' took up by the police when WE was in New York?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” replied the astounded depot master. “Took up by the POLICE?” + </p> + <p> + “Um—hm. Surprises you, don't it? Well, that whole trip was a + surprise to me. + </p> + <p> + “When Laban Thorp set out to thrash his son and the boy licked him + instead, they found the old man settin' in the barnyard, holdin' on to his + nose and grinnin' for pure joy. + </p> + <p> + “'Hurt?' says he. 'Why, some. But think of it! Only think of it! I didn't + believe Bill had it in him.' + </p> + <p> + “Well, that's the way I felt when Cap'n Jonadab sprung the New York plan + on to me. I was pretty nigh as much surprised as Labe. The idea of a man + with a chronic case of lockjaw of the pocketbook, same as Jonadab had + worried along under ever sence I knew him, suddenly breakin' loose with a + notion to go to New York on a pleasure cruise! 'Twas too many for me. I + set and looked at him. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, I mean it, Barzilla,' he says. 'I ain't been to New York sence I was + mate on the Emma Snow, and that was 'way back in the eighties. That is, to + stop I ain't. That time we went through on the way to Peter T.'s weddin' + don't count, 'cause we only went in the front door and out the back, like + Squealer Wixon went through high school. Let's you and me go and stay two + or three days and have a real high old time,' says he. + </p> + <p> + “I fetched a long breath. 'Jonadab,' I says, don't scare a feller this + way; I've got a weak heart. If you're goin' to start in and be divilish in + your old age, why, do it kind of gradual. Let's go over to the billiard + room and have a bottle of sass'parilla and a five-cent cigar, just to + break the ice.' + </p> + <p> + “But that only made him mad. + </p> + <p> + “'You talk like a fish,' he says. 'I mean it. Why can't we go? It's + September, the Old Home House is shut up for the season, you and me's done + well—fur's profits are concerned—and we ought to have a + change, anyway. We've got to stay here in Orham all winter.' + </p> + <p> + “'Have you figgered out how much it's goin' to cost?' I asked him. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, he had. 'It won't be so awful expensive,' he says. 'I've got some + stock in the railroad and that'll give me a pass fur's Fall River. And we + can take a lunch to eat on the boat. And a stateroom's a dollar; that's + fifty cents apiece. And my daughter's goin' to Denboro on a visit next + week, so I'd have to pay board if I stayed to home. Come on, Barzilla! + don't be so tight with your money.' + </p> + <p> + “So I said I'd go, though I didn't have any pass, nor no daughter to feed + me free gratis for nothin' when I got back. And when we started, on the + followin' Monday, nothin' would do but we must be at the depot at two + o'clock so's not to miss the train, which left at quarter past three. + </p> + <p> + “I didn't sleep much that night on the boat. For one thing, our stateroom + was a nice lively one, alongside of the paddle box and just under the fog + whistle; and for another, the supper that Jonadab had brought, bein' + mainly doughnuts and cheese, wa'n't the best cargo to take to bed with + you. But it didn't make much diff'rence, 'cause we turned out at four, + so's to see the scenery and git our money's worth. What was left of the + doughnuts and cheese we had for breakfast. + </p> + <p> + “We made the dock on time, and the next thing was to pick out a hotel. I + was for cruisin' along some of the main streets until we hove in sight of + a place that looked sociable and not too expensive. But no; Jonadab had it + all settled for me. We was goin' to the 'Wayfarer's Inn,' a boardin' house + where he'd put up once when he was mate of the Emma Snow. He said 'twas a + fine place and you could git as good ham and eggs there as a body'd want + to eat. + </p> + <p> + “So we set sail for the 'Wayfarer's,' and of all the times gittin' to a + place—don't talk! We asked no less than nine policemen and one + hundred and two other folks, and it cost us thirty cents in car fares, + which pretty nigh broke Jonadab's heart. However, we found it, finally, + 'way off amongst a nest of brick houses and peddler carts and children, + and it wa'n't the 'Wayfarer's Inn' no more, but was down in the shippin' + list as the 'Golconda House.' Jonadab said the neighborhood had changed + some sence he was there, but he guessed we'd better chance it, 'cause the + board was cheap. + </p> + <p> + “We had a nine-by-ten room up aloft somewheres, and there we set down on + the edge of the bed and a chair to take account of stock, as you might + say. + </p> + <p> + “'Now, I tell you, Jonadab,' says I; 'we don't want to waste no time, and + we've got the day afore us. What do you say if we cruise along the water + front for a spell? There's ha'f a dozen Orham folks aboard diff'rent + steamers that hail from this port, and 'twouldn't be no more'n neighborly + to call on 'em. There's Silas Baker's boy, Asa—he's with the + Savannah Line and he'd be mighty glad to see us. And there's—' + </p> + <p> + “But Jonadab held up his hand. He'd been mysterious as a baker's mince pie + ever sence we started, hintin' at somethin' he'd got to do when we'd got + to New York. And now he out with it. + </p> + <p> + “'Barzilla,' he says, 'I ain't sayin' but what I'd like to go to the + wharves with you, first rate. And we will go, too. But afore we do + anything else I've got an errand that must be attended to. 'Twas give to + me by a dyin' man,' he says, 'and I promised him I'd do it. So that comes + first of all.' + </p> + <p> + “He got his wallet out of his inside vest pocket, where it had been pinned + in tight to keep it safe from robbers, unwound a foot or so of leather + strap, and dug up a yeller piece of paper that looked old enough to be + Methusalem's will, pretty nigh. + </p> + <p> + “'Do you remember Patrick Kelly in Orham?' he asks. + </p> + <p> + “'Who?' says I. 'Pat Kelly, the Irishman, that lived in the little old + shack back of your barn? Course I do. But he's been dead for I don't know + how long.' + </p> + <p> + “'I know he has. Do you remember his boy Jim that run away from home?' + </p> + <p> + “'Let's see,' I says. 'Seems to me I do. Freckled, red-headed rooster, + wa'n't he? And of all the imps of darkness that ever—' + </p> + <p> + “'S-sh-sh!' he interrupted solemn. 'Don't say that now, Barzilla. Sounds + kind of irreverent. Well, me and old Pat was pretty friendly, in a way, + though he did owe me rent. When he was sick with the pleurisy he sends for + me and he says, “Cap'n 'Wixon,” says he, “you're pretty close with the + money,” he says—he was kind of out of his head at the time and + liable to say foolish things—“you're pretty close,” he says, “but + you're a man of your word. My boy Jimmie, that run away, was the apple of + my eye.”' + </p> + <p> + “'That's what he said about his girl Maggie that was took up for stealin' + Mrs. Elkanah Higgins's spoons,' I says. 'He had a healthy crop of apples + in HIS orchard.' + </p> + <p> + “'S-sh-h! DON'T talk so! I feel as if the old man's spirit was with us + this minute. “He's the apple of my eye,” he says, “and he run away, after + me latherin' the life out of him with a wagon spoke. 'Twas all for his + good, but he didn't understand, bein' but a child. And now I've heard,” he + says, “that he's workin' at 116 East Blank Street in the city of New York. + Cap'n Wixon, you're a man of money and a travelin' man,” he says (I was + fishin' in them days). “When you go to New York,” he says, “I want you to + promise me to go to the address on this paper and hunt up Jimmie. Tell him + I forgive him for lickin' him,” he says, “and die happy. Will you promise + me that, Cap'n, on your word as a gentleman?” And I promised him. And he + died in less than ten months afterwards, poor thing.' + </p> + <p> + “'But that was sixteen—eighteen—nineteen years ago,' says I. + 'And the boy run away three years afore that. You've been to New York in + the past nineteen years, once anyhow.' + </p> + <p> + “'I know it. But I forgot. I'm ashamed of it, but I forgot. And when I was + goin' through the things up attic at my daughter's last Friday, seein' + what I could find for the rummage sale at the church, I come across my old + writin' desk, and in it was this very piece of paper with the address on + it just as I wrote it down. And me startin' for New York in three days! + Barzilla, I swan to man, I believe something SENT me to that attic.' + </p> + <p> + “I knew what sent him there and so did the church folks, judgin' by their + remarks when the contribution came in. But I was too much set back by the + whole crazy business to say anything about that. + </p> + <p> + “'Look here, Jonadab Wixon,' I sings out, 'do you mean to tell me that + we've got to put in the whole forenoon ransackin' New York to find a boy + that run off twenty-two years ago?' + </p> + <p> + “'It won't take the forenoon,' he says. 'I've got the number, ain't I?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, you've got the number where he WAS. If you want to know where I + think he's likely to be now, I'd try the jail.' + </p> + <p> + “But he said I was unfeelin' and disobligin' and lots more, so, to cut the + argument short, I agreed to go. And off we put to hunt up 116 East Blank + Street. And when we located it, after a good hour of askin' questions, and + payin' car fares and wearin' out shoe leather, 'twas a Chinese laundry. + </p> + <p> + “'Well,' I says, sarcastic, 'here we be. Which one of the heathen do you + think is Jimmie? If he had an inch or so more of upper lip, I'd gamble on + that critter with the pink nighty and the baskets on his feet. He has a + kind of familiar chicken-stealin' look in his eye. Oh, come down on the + wharves, Jonadab, and be sensible.' + </p> + <p> + “Would you believe it, he wa'n't satisfied. We must go into the wash shop + and ask the Chinamen if they knew Jimmie Kelly. So we went in and the + powwow begun. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas a mighty unsatisfyin' interview. Jonadab's idea of talkin' to + furriners is to yell at 'em as if they was stone deef. If they don't + understand what you say, yell louder. So between his yells and the + heathen's jabber and grunts the hullabaloo was worse than a cat in a hen + yard. Folks begun to stop outside the door and listen and grin. + </p> + <p> + “'What did he say?' asks the Cap'n, turnin' to me. + </p> + <p> + “'I don't know,' says I, 'but I cal'late he's gettin' ready to send a note + up to the crazy asylum. Come on out of here afore I go loony myself.' + </p> + <p> + “So he done it, finally, cross as all get out, and swearin' that all + Chinese was no good and oughtn't to be allowed in this country. But he + wouldn't give up, not yet. He must scare up some of the neighbors and ask + them. The fifth man that we asked was an old chap who remembered that + there used to be a liquor saloon once where the laundry was now. But he + didn't know who run it or what had become of him. + </p> + <p> + “'Never mind,' I says. 'You're as warm as you're likely to be this trip. A + rum shop is just about the place I'd expect that Kelly boy WOULD be in. + And, if he's like the rest of his relations on his dad's side, he drank + himself to death years ago. NOW will you head for the Savannah Line?' + </p> + <p> + “Not much, he wouldn't. He had another notion. We'd look in the directory. + That seemed to have a glimmer of sense somewheres in its neighborhood, so + we found an apothecary store and the clerk handed us out a book once again + as big as a church Bible. + </p> + <p> + “'Kelly,' says Jonadab. 'Yes, here 'tis. Now, “James Kelly.” Land of Love! + Barzilla, look here.' + </p> + <p> + “I looked, and there wa'n't no less than a dozen pages of James Kellys + beginning with fifty James A.'s and endin' with four James Z.'s. The Y in + 'New York' ought to be a C, judgin' by that directory. + </p> + <p> + “'Godfrey mighty!' I says. 'This ain't no forenoon's job, Jonadab. If + you're goin' through that list you'll have to spend the rest of your life + here. Only, unless you want to be lonesome, you'll have to change your + name to Kelly.' + </p> + <p> + “'If I'd only got his middle letter,' says he, mournful, ''twould have + been easier. He had four middle names, if I remember right—the old + man was great on names—and 'twas too much trouble to write 'em all + down. Well, I've done my duty, anyhow. We'll go and call on Ase Baker.' + </p> + <p> + “But 'twas after eleven o'clock then, and the doughnuts and cheese I had + for breakfast was beginnin' to feel as if they wanted company. So we + decided to go back to the Golconda and have some dinner first. + </p> + <p> + “We had ham and eggs for dinner, some that was left over from the last + time Jonadab stopped there, I cal'late. Lucky there was hot bread and + coffee on the bill or we'd never got a square meal. Then we went up to our + room and the Cap'n laid down on the bed. He was beat out, he said, and + wanted to rest up a spell afore haulin' anchor for another cruise.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0012" id="link2HCH0012"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XII + </h2> + <h3> + A VISION SENT + </h3> + <p> + “Where's the arrestin' come in?” demanded Stitt. + </p> + <p> + “Comes quick now, Bailey. Plenty quick enough for me and Jonadab, I tell + you that! After we got to our room the Cap'n went to sleep pretty soon and + I set in the one chair, readin' the newspaper and wishin' I hadn't ate so + many of the warm bricks that the Golconda folks hoped was biscuit. They + made me feel like a schooner goin' home in ballast. I guess I was drowsin' + off myself, but there comes a most unearthly yell from the bed and I + jumped ha'f out of the chair. There was Jonadab settin' up and lookin' + wild. + </p> + <p> + “'What in the world?' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! Ugh! My soul!' says he. + </p> + <p> + “'Your soul, hey?' says I. 'Is that all? I thought mebbe you'd lost a + quarter.' + </p> + <p> + “'Barzilla,' he says, comin' to and starin' at me solemn, 'Barzilla, I've + had a dream—a wonderful dream.' + </p> + <p> + “'Well,' I says, 'I ain't surprised. A feller that h'isted in as much + fried dough as you did ought to expect—' + </p> + <p> + “'But I tell you 'twas a WONDERFUL dream,' he says. 'I dreamed I was on + Blank Street, where we was this mornin', and Patrick Kelly comes to me and + p'ints his finger right in my face. I see him as plain as I see you now. + And he says to me—he said it over and over, two or three times—Seventeen,” + says he, “Seventeen.” Now what do you think of that?' + </p> + <p> + “'Humph!' I says. 'I ain't surprised. I think 'twas just seventeen of them + biscuits that you got away with. Wonder to me you didn't see somebody + worse'n old Pat.' + </p> + <p> + “But he was past jokin'. You never see a man so shook up by the nightmare + as he was by that one. He kept goin' over it and tellin' how natural old + Kelly looked and how many times he said 'Seventeen' to him. + </p> + <p> + “'Now what did he mean by it?' he says. 'Don't tell me that was a common + dream, 'cause twa'n't. No, sir, 'twas a vision sent to me, and I know it. + But what did he mean?' + </p> + <p> + “'I think he meant you was seventeen kinds of an idiot,' I snorts, + disgusted. 'Get up off that bed and stop wavin' your arms, will you? He + didn't mean for you to turn yourself into a windmill, that's sartin sure.' + </p> + <p> + “Then he hits his knee a slap that sounds like a window blind blowin' to. + 'I've got it!' he sings out. 'He meant for me to go to number seventeen on + that street. That's what he meant.' + </p> + <p> + “I laughed and made fun of him, but I might as well have saved my breath. + He was sure Pat Kelly's ghost had come hikin' back from the hereafter to + tell him to go to 17 Blank Street and find his boy. 'Else why was he ON + Blank Street?' he says. 'You tell me that.' + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't tell him. It's enough for me to figger out what makes live + folks act the way they do, let alone dead ones. And Cap'n Jonadab was a + Spiritu'list on his mother's side. It ended by my agreein' to give the + Jimmie chase one more try. + </p> + <p> + “'But it's got to be the last,' I says. 'When you get to number seventeen + don't you say you think the old man meant to say “seventy” and stuttered.' + </p> + <p> + “Number 17 Blank Street was a little combination fruit and paper store run + by an Eyetalian with curly hair and the complexion of a molasses cooky. + His talk sounded as if it had been run through a meat chopper. All he + could say was, 'Nica grape, genta'men? On'y fifteen cent a pound. Nica + grape? Nica apple? Nica pear? Nica ploom?' + </p> + <p> + “'Kelly?' says Jonadab, hollerin' as usual. 'Kelly! d'ye understand? + K-E-L-Kel L-Y-ly, Kelly. YOU know, KELLY! We want to find him.' + </p> + <p> + “And just then up steps a feller about six feet high and three foot + through. He was dressed in checkerboard clothes, some gone to seed, and + you could hardly see the blue tie he had on for the glass di'mond in it. + Oh, he was a little wilted now—for the lack of water, I judge—but + 'twas plain that he'd been a sunflower in his time. He'd just come out of + a liquor store next door to the fruit shop and was wipin' his mouth with + the back of his hand. + </p> + <p> + “'What's this I hear?' says he, fetchin' Jonadab a welt on the back like a + mast goin' by the board. 'Is it me friend Kelly you're lookin' for?' + </p> + <p> + “I was just goin' to tell him no, not likin' his looks, but Jonadab cut in + ahead of me, out of breath from the earthquake the feller had landed him, + but excited as could be. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, yes!' says he. 'It's Mr. Kelly we want. Do you know him?' + </p> + <p> + “'Do I know him? Why, me bucko, 'tis me old college chum he is. Come on + with me and we'll give him the glad hand.' + </p> + <p> + “He grabs Jonadab by the arm and starts along the sidewalk, steerin' a + toler'ble crooked course, but gainin' steady by jerks. + </p> + <p> + “'I was on me way to Kelly's place now,' says he. 'And here it is. Sure + didn't I bate the bookies blind on Rosebud but yesterday—or was it + the day before? I don't know, but come on, me lads, and we'll do him + again.' + </p> + <p> + “He turned in at a little narrer entry-like, and went stumblin' up a + flight of dirty stairs. I caught hold of Jonadab's coat tails and pulled + him back. + </p> + <p> + “'Where you goin', you crazy loon?' I whispered. 'Can't you see he's three + sheets in the wind? And you haven't told him what Kelly you want, nor + nothin'.' + </p> + <p> + “But I might as well have hollered at a stone wall. 'I don't care if he's + as fur gone in liquor as Belshazzer's goat,' sputters the Cap'n, all + worked up. 'He's takin' us to a Kelly, ain't he? And is it likely there'd + be another one within three doors of the number I dreamed about? Didn't I + tell you that dream was a vision sent? Don't lay to NOW, Barzilla, for the + land sakes! It's Providence a-workin'.' + </p> + <p> + “'Cording to my notion the sunflower looked more like an agent from + t'other end of the line than one from Providence, but just then he + commenced to yell for us and upstairs we went, Jonadab first. + </p> + <p> + “'Whisht!' says the checkerboard, holdin' on to Jonadab's collar and + swingin' back and forth. 'Before we proceed to blow in on me friend Kelly, + let us come to an understandin' concernin' and touchin' on—and—and—I + don't know. But b'ys,' says he, solemn and confidential, 'are you on the + square? Are yez dead game sports, hey?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, yes!' says Jonadab. 'Course we be. Mr. Kelly and us are old + friends. We've come I don't know how fur on purpose to see him. Now + where's—' + </p> + <p> + “'Say no more,' hollers the feller. 'Say no more. Come on with yez.' And + he marches down the dark hall to a door with a 'To let' sign on it and + fetches it a bang with his fist. It opens a little ways and a face shows + in the crack. + </p> + <p> + “'Hello, Frank!' hails the sunflower, cheerful. 'Will you take that ugly + mug of yours out of the gate and lave me friends in?' + </p> + <p> + “'What's the matter wid you, Mike?' asks the chap at the door. 'Yer can't + bring them two yaps in here and you know it. Gwan out of this.' + </p> + <p> + “He tried to shut the door, but the checkerboard had his foot between it + and the jamb. You might as well have tried to shove in the broadside of an + ocean liner as to push against that foot. + </p> + <p> + “'These gents are friends of mine,' says he. 'Frank, I'll do yez the honor + of an introduction to Gin'ral Grant and Dan'l O'Connell. Open that door + and compose your face before I'm obliged to break both of 'em.' + </p> + <p> + “'But I tell you, Mike, I can't,' says the door man, lookin' scared. 'The + boss is out, and you know—' + </p> + <p> + “'WILL you open that door?' roars the big chap. And with that he hove his + shoulder against the panels and jammed the door open by main force, all + but flattenin' the other feller behind it. 'Walk in, Gin'ral,' he says to + Jonadab, and in we went, me wonderin' what was comin' next, and not darin' + to guess. + </p> + <p> + “There was a kind of partitioned off hallway inside, with another door in + the partition. We opened that, and there was a good-sized room, filled + with men, smokin' and standin' around. A high board fence was acrost one + end of the room, and from behind it comes a jinglin' of telephone bells + and the sounds of talk. The floor was covered with torn papers, the window + blinds was shut, the gas was burnin' blue, and, between it and the smoke, + the smells was as various as them in a fish glue factory. On the fence was + a couple of blackboards with 'Belmont' and 'Brighton' and suchlike names + in chalk wrote on 'em, and beneath that a whole mess in writin' and + figures like, 'Red Tail 4—Wt—108—Jock Smith—5—1,' + 'Sourcrout 5—Wt—99—Jock Jones—20—5,' and + similar rubbish. And the gang—a mighty mixed lot—was + scribblin' in little books and watchin' each other as if they was afraid + of havin' their pockets picked; though, to look at 'em, you'd have guessed + the biggest part had nothin' in their pockets but holes. + </p> + <p> + “The six-foot checkerboard—who, it turned out, answered to the hail + of 'Mike'—seemed to be right at home with the gang. He called most + of 'em by their first names and went sasshayin' around, weltin' 'em on the + back and tellin' 'em how he'd 'put crimps in the bookies rolls t'other + day,' and a lot more stuff that they seemed to understand, but was hog + Greek to me and Jonadab. He'd forgot us altogether which was a mercy the + way I looked at it, and I steered the Cap'n over into a corner and we come + to anchor on a couple of rickety chairs. + </p> + <p> + “'What—why—what kind of a place IS this, Barzilla?' whispers + Jonadab, scared. + </p> + <p> + “'Sh-h-h!' says I. 'Land knows. Just set quiet and hang on to your watch.' + </p> + <p> + “'But—but I want to find Kelly,' says he. + </p> + <p> + “'I'd give somethin' to find a back door,' says I. 'Ain't this a + collection of dock rats though! If this is a part of your dream, Jonadab, + I wish you'd turn over and wake up. Oh land! here's one murderer headin' + this way. Keep your change in your fist and keep the fist shut.' + </p> + <p> + “A more'n average rusty peep, with a rubber collar on and no necktie, + comes slinkin' over to us. He had a smile like a crack in a plate. + </p> + <p> + “'Say, gents,' he says, 'have you made your bets yet? I've got a dead + straight line on the handicap,' says he, 'and I'll put you next for a one + spot. It's a sure t'ing at fifteen to three. What do you say?' + </p> + <p> + “I didn't say nuthin'; but that fool dream was rattlin' round in Jonadab's + skull like a bean in a blowgun, and he sees a chance for a shot. + </p> + <p> + “'See here, mister,' he says. 'Can you tell me where to locate Mr. Kelly?' + </p> + <p> + “'Who—Pete?' says the feller. 'Oh, he ain't in just now. But about + that handicap. I like the looks of youse and I'll let youse in for a + dollar. Or, seein' it's you, we'll say a half. Only fifty cents. I + wouldn't do better for my own old man,' he says. + </p> + <p> + “While the Cap'n was tryin' to unravel one end of this gibberish I spoke + up prompt. + </p> + <p> + “'Say,' says I, 'tell me this, will you? Is the Kelly who owns this—this + palace, named Jimmie—James, I mean?' + </p> + <p> + “'Naw,' says he. 'Sure he ain't. It's Pete Kelly, of course—Silver + Pete. But what are you givin' us? Are you bettin' on the race, or ain't + you?' + </p> + <p> + “Well, Jonadab understood that. He bristled up like a brindled cat. If + there's any one thing the Cap'n is down on, it's gamblin' and such—always + exceptin' when he knows he's won already. You've seen that kind, maybe. + </p> + <p> + “'Young feller,' he says, perkish, 'I want you to know that me and my + friend ain't the bettin' kind. What sort of a hole IS this, anyway?' + </p> + <p> + “The rubber collared critter backed off, lookin' worried. He goes acrost + the room, and I see him talkin' to two or three other thieves as tough as + himself. And they commenced to stare at us and scowl. + </p> + <p> + “'Come on,' I whispered to Jonadab. 'Let's get out of this place while we + can. There ain't no Jimmie Kelly here, or if there is you don't want to + find him.' + </p> + <p> + “He was as willin' to make tracks as I was, by this time, and we headed + for the door in the partition. But Rubber Collar and some of the others + got acrost our bows. + </p> + <p> + “'Cut it out,' says one of 'em. 'You can't get away so easy. Hi, Frank! + Frank! Who let these turnip pullers in here, anyhow? Who are they?' + </p> + <p> + “The chap who was tendin' door comes out of his coop. 'You've got me,' he + says. 'They come in with Big Mike, and he was loaded and scrappy and + jammed 'em through. Said they was pals of his. Where is he?' + </p> + <p> + “There was a hunt for Mike, and, when they got his bearin's, there he was + keeled over on a bench, breathin' like an escape valve. And an admiral's + salute wouldn't have woke him up. The whole crew was round us by this + time, some ugly, and the rest laffin' and carryin' on. + </p> + <p> + “'It's the Barkwurst gang,' says one. + </p> + <p> + “'It's old Bark himself,' says another. 'Look at them lace curtains.' And + he points to Jonadab's whiskers. + </p> + <p> + “'This one's Jacobs in disguise,' sings out somebody else. 'You can tell + him by the Rube get-up. Haw! haw!' + </p> + <p> + “'Soak 'em! Do 'em up! Don't let 'em out!' hollers a ha'f dozen more. + </p> + <p> + “Jonadab was game; I'll say that for him. And I hadn't been second mate in + my time for nothin'. + </p> + <p> + “'Take your hands off me!' yells the Cap'n. 'I come in here to find a man + I'm lookin' for, James Kelly it was, and—You would, would you! Stand + by, Barzilla!' + </p> + <p> + “I stood by. Rubber Collar got one from me that made him remember home and + mother, I'll bet. Anyhow, my knuckles ached for two days afterwards. And + Jonadab was just as busy. But I cal'late we'd have been ready for the oven + in another five minutes if the door hadn't bu'st open with a bang, and a + loud dressed chap, with the sweat pourin' down his face, come tearin' in. + </p> + <p> + “'Beat it, fellers!' he yells. 'The place is goin' to be pinched. I've + just had the tip, and they're right on top of me.' + </p> + <p> + “THEN there was times. Everybody was shoutin' and swearin' and fallin' + over each other to get out. I was kind of lost in the shuffle, and the + next thing I remember for sartin is settin' up on Rubber Collar's stomach + and lookin' foggy at the door, where the loud dressed man was wrestlin' + with a policeman. And there was police at the windows and all around. + </p> + <p> + “Well, don't talk! I got up, resurrects Jonadab from under a heap of + gamblers and furniture, and makes for harbor in our old corner. The police + was mighty busy, especially a fat, round-faced, red-mustached man, with + gold bands on his cap and arms, that the rest called 'Cap'n.' Him and the + loud dressed chap who'd give the alarm was talkin' earnest close to us. + </p> + <p> + “'I can't help it, Pete,' says the police cap'n. ''Twas me or the Vice + Suppression crowd. They've been on to you for two weeks back. I only just + got in ahead of 'em as it was. No, you'll have to go along with the rest + and take your chances. Quiet now, everybody, or you'll get it harder,' he + roars, givin' orders like the skipper of a passenger boat. 'Stand in line + and wait your turns for the wagon.' + </p> + <p> + “Jonadab grabbed me by the wrist. He was pale and shakin' all over. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, Lordy!' says he, 'we're took up. Will we have to go to jail, do you + think?' + </p> + <p> + “'I don't know,' I says, disgusted. 'I presume likely we will. Did you + dream anything like this? You'd better see if you can't dream yourself out + now.' Twas rubbin' it in, but I was mad. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! oh!' says he, flappin' his hands. 'And me a deacon of the church! + Will folks know it, do you think?' + </p> + <p> + “'Will they know it! Sounds as if they knew it already. Just listen to + that.' + </p> + <p> + “The first wagon full of prizes was bein' loaded in down at the front + door, and the crowd outside was cheerin' 'em. Judgin' by the whoops and + hurrahs there wa'n't no less than a million folks at the show, and they + was gettin' the wuth of admission. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, dear!' groans Jonadab. 'And it'll be in the papers and all! I can't + stand this.' + </p> + <p> + “And afore I could stop him he'd run over and tackled the head policeman. + </p> + <p> + “'Mister—Mister Cap'n,' he says, pantin', 'there's been a mistake, + an awful mis—take—' + </p> + <p> + “'That's right,' says the police cap'n, 'there has. Six or eight of you + tin horns got clear. But—' Then he noticed who was speakin' to him + and his mouth dropped open like a hatch. 'Well, saints above!' he says. + 'Have the up-state delegates got to buckin' the ponies, too? Why ain't you + back home killin' pertater bugs? You ought to be ashamed.' + </p> + <p> + “'But we wa'n't gamblin'—me and my friend wa'n't. We was led in here + by mistake. We was told that a feller named Kelly lived here and we're + huntin' for a man of that name. I've got a message to him from his poor + dead father back in Orham. We come all the way from Orham, Mass.—to + find him and—' + </p> + <p> + “The police cap'n turned around then and stared at him hard. 'Humph!' says + he, after a spell. 'Go over there and set down till I want you. No, you'll + go now and we'll waste no breath on it. Go on, do you hear!' + </p> + <p> + “So we went, and there we set for ha'f an hour, while the rest of the gang + and the blackboards and the paper slips and the telephones and Big Mike + and his chair was bein' carted off to the wagon. Once, when one of the + constables was beatin' acrost to get us, the police cap'n spoke to him. + </p> + <p> + “'You can leave these two,' he says. 'I'll take care of them.' + </p> + <p> + “So, finally, when there was nothin' left but the four walls and us and + some of the police, he takes me and Jonadab by the elbows and heads for + the door. + </p> + <p> + “'Now,' says he, 'walk along quiet and peaceable and tell me all about it. + Get out of this!' he shouts to the crowd of small boys and loafers on the + sidewalk, 'or I'll take you, too.' + </p> + <p> + “The outsiders fell astern, lookin' heartbroke and disapp'inted that we + wa'n't hung on the spot, and the fat boss policeman and us two paraded + along slow but grand. I felt like the feller that was caught robbin' the + poorhouse, and I cal'late Jonadab felt the same, only he was so busy + beggin' and pleadin' and explainin' that he couldn't stop to feel + anything. + </p> + <p> + “He told it all, the whole fool yarn from one end to t'other. How old Pat + give him the message and how he went to the laundry, and about his + ridiculous dream, every word. And the fat policeman shook all over, like a + barrel of cod livers. + </p> + <p> + “By and by we got to a corner of a street and hove to. I could see the + station house loomin' up large ahead. Fatty took a card from his + pocketbook, wrote on it with a pencil, and then hailed a hack, one of them + stern-first kind where the driver sits up aloft 'way aft. He pushed back + the cap with the gilt wreath on it, and I could see his red hair shinin' + like a sunset. + </p> + <p> + “'Here,' says he to the hack driver, 'take these—this pair of salads + to the—what d'ye call it?—the Golconda House, wherever on top + of the pavement that is. And mind you, deliver 'em safe and don't let the + truck horses get a bite at 'em. And at half-past eight to-night you call + for 'em and bring 'em here,' handin' up the card he'd written on. + </p> + <p> + “''Tis the address of my house, I'm givin',' he says, turnin' to Jonadab. + 'I'll be off duty then and we'll have dinner and talk about old times. To + think of you landin' in Silver Pete's pool room! Dear! dear! Why, Cap'n + Wixon, barrin' that your whiskers are a bit longer and a taste grayer, I'd + 'a' known you anywheres. Many's the time I've stole apples over your back + fence. I'm Jimmie Kelly,' says he.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, by mighty!” exclaimed the depot master, slapping his knee. “So HE + was the Kelly man! Humph!” + </p> + <p> + “Funny how it turned out, wa'n't it?” said Barzilla. “Course, Cap'n + Jonadab was perfectly sat on spiritu'lism and signs and omens and such + after that. He's had his fortune told no less'n eight times sence, and, + nigh's I can find out, each time it's different. The amount of blondes and + brunettes and widows and old maids that he's slated to marry, accordin' to + them fortune tellers, is perfectly scandalous. If he lives up to the + prophecies, Brigham Young wouldn't be a twospot 'longside of him.” + </p> + <p> + “It's funny about dreams,” mused Captain Hiram. “Folks are always tellin' + about their comin' true, but none of mine ever did. I used to dream I was + goin' to be drowned, but I ain't been yet.” + </p> + <p> + The depot master laughed. “Well,” he observed, “once, when I was a + youngster, I dreamed two nights runnin' that I was bein' hung. I asked my + Sunday school teacher if he believed dreams come true, and he said yes, + sometimes. Then I told him my dream, and he said he believed in that one. + I judged that any other finish for me would have surprised him. But, + somehow or other, they haven't hung me yet.” + </p> + <p> + “There was a hired girl over at the Old Home House who was sat on fortune + tellin',” said Wingate. “Her name was Effie, and—” + </p> + <p> + “Look here!” broke in Captain Bailey Stitt, righteous indignation in his + tone, “I've started no less than nineteen different times to tell you + about how I went sailin' in an automobile. Now do you want to hear it, or + don't you?” + </p> + <p> + “How you went SAILIN' in an auto?” repeated Barzilla. “Went ridin', you + mean.” + </p> + <p> + “I mean sailin'. I went ridin', too, but—” + </p> + <p> + “You'll have to excuse me, Bailey,” interrupted Captain Hiram, rising and + looking at his watch. “I've stayed here a good deal longer'n I ought to, + already. I must be gettin' on home to see how poor little Dusenberry, my + boy, is feelin'. I do hope he's better by now. I wish Dr. Parker hadn't + gone out of town.” + </p> + <p> + The depot master rose also. “And I'll have to be excused, too,” he + declared. “It's most time for the up train. Good-by, Hiram. Give my + regards to Sophrony, and if there's anything I can do to help, in case + your baby should be sick, just sing out, won't you?” + </p> + <p> + “But I want to tell about this automobilin' scrape,” protested Captain + Bailey. “It was one of them things that don't happen every day.” + </p> + <p> + “So was that fortune business of Effie's,” declared Wingate. “Honest, the + way it worked out was queer enough.” + </p> + <p> + But the train whistled just then and the group broke up. Captain Sol went + out to the platform, where Cornelius Rowe, Ed Crocker, Beriah Higgins, + Obed Gott, and other interested citizens had already assembled. Wingate + and Stitt followed. As for Captain Hiram Baker, he hurried home, his + conscience reproving him for remaining so long away from his wife and poor + little Hiram Joash, more familiarly known as “Dusenberry.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0013" id="link2HCH0013"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIII + </h2> + <h3> + DUSENBERRY'S BIRTHDAY + </h3> + <p> + Mrs. Baker met her husband at the door. + </p> + <p> + “How is he?” was the Captain's first question. “Better, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “No,” was the nervous answer. “No, I don't think he is. His throat's + terrible sore and the fever's just as bad.” + </p> + <p> + Again Captain Hiram's conscience smote him. + </p> + <p> + “Dear! dear!” he exclaimed. “And I've been loafin' around the depot with + Sol Berry and the rest of 'em instead of stayin' home with you, Sophrony. + I KNEW I was doin' wrong, but I didn't realize—” + </p> + <p> + “Course you didn't, Hiram. I'm glad you got a few minutes' rest, after + bein' up with him half the night. I do wish the doctor was home, though. + When will he be back?” + </p> + <p> + “Not until late to-morrer, if then. Did you keep on givin' the medicine?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but it don't seem to do much good. You go and set with him now, + Hiram. I must be seein' about supper.” + </p> + <p> + So into the sick room went Captain Hiram to sit beside the crib and sing + “Sailor boy, sailor boy, 'neath the wild billow,” as a lugubrious lullaby. + </p> + <p> + Little Hiram Joash tossed and tumbled. He was in a fitful slumber when + Mrs. Baker called her husband to supper. The meal was anything but a + cheerful one. They talked but little. Over the home, ordinarily so + cheerful, had settled a gloom that weighed upon them. + </p> + <p> + “My! my!” sighed Captain Hiram, “how lonesome it seems without him + chatterin' and racketin' sound. Seems darker'n usual, as if there was a + shadow on the place.” + </p> + <p> + “Hush, Hiram! don't talk that way. A shadow! Oh, WHAT made you say that? + Sounds like a warnin', almost.” + </p> + <p> + “Warnin'?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, a forewarnin', you know. 'The valley of the shadow—'” + </p> + <p> + “HUSH!” Captain Baker's face paled under its sunburn. “Don't say such + things, Sophrony. If that happened, the Lord help you and me. But it won't—it + won't. We're nervous, that's all. We're always so careful of Dusenberry, + as if he was made out of thin china, that we get fidgety when there's no + need of it. We mustn't be foolish.” + </p> + <p> + After supper Mrs. Baker tiptoed into the bedroom. She emerged with a very + white face. + </p> + <p> + “Hiram,” she whispered, “he acts dreadful queer. Come in and see him.” + </p> + <p> + The “first mate” was tossing back and forth in the crib, making odd little + choky noises in his swollen throat. When his father entered he opened his + eyes, stared unmeaningly, and said: “'Tand by to det der ship under way.” + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord! he's out of his head,” gasped the Captain. Sophronia and he + stepped back into the sitting room and looked at each other, the same + thought expressed in the face of each. Neither spoke for a moment, then + Captain Hiram said: + </p> + <p> + “Now don't you worry, Sophrony. The Doctor ain't home, but I'm goin' out + to—to telegraph him, or somethin'. Keep a stiff upper lip. It'll be + all right. God couldn't go back on you and me that way. He just couldn't. + I'll be back in a little while.” + </p> + <p> + “But, oh, Hiram! if he should—if he SHOULD be taken away, what WOULD + we do?” + </p> + <p> + She began to cry. Her husband laid a trembling hand on her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “But he won't,” he declared stoutly. “I tell you God wouldn't do such a + thing. Good-by, old lady. I'll hurry fast as I can.” + </p> + <p> + As he took up his cap and turned to the door he heard the voice of the + weary little first mate chokily calling his crew to quarters. “All hands + on deck!” + </p> + <p> + The telegraph office was in Beriah Higgins's store. Thither ran the + Captain. Pat Sharkey, Mr. Higgins's Irish helper, who acted as telegraph + operator during Gertie Higgins's absence, gave Captain Hiram little + satisfaction. + </p> + <p> + “How can I get Dr. Parker?” asked Pat. “He's off on a cruise and land + knows where I can reach him to-night. I'll do what I can, Cap, but it's + ten chances out of nine against a wire gettin' to him.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Hiram left the store, dodging questioners who were anxious to know + what his trouble might be, and dazedly crossed Main Street, to the railway + station. He thought of asking advice of his friend, the depot master. + </p> + <p> + The evening train from Boston pulled out as he passed through the waiting + room. One or two passengers were standing on the platform. One of these + was a short, square-shouldered man with gray side whiskers and eyeglasses. + The initials on his suit case were J. S. M., Boston, and they stood for + John Spencer Morgan. If the bearer of the suit case had followed the + fashion of the native princes of India and had emblazoned his titles upon + his baggage, the commonplace name just quoted might have been followed by + “M.D., LL.D., at Harvard and Oxford; vice president American Medical + Society; corresponding secretary Associated Society of Surgeons; lecturer + at Harvard Medical College; author of 'Diseases of the Throat and Lungs,' + etc., etc.” + </p> + <p> + But Dr. Morgan was not given to advertising either his titles or himself, + and he was hurrying across the platform to Redny Blount's depot wagon when + Captain Hiram touched him on the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Why, hello, Captain Baker,” exclaimed the Doctor, “how do you do?” + </p> + <p> + “Dr. Morgan,” said the Captain, “I—I hope you'll excuse my presumin' + on you this way, but I want to ask a favor of you, a great favor. I want + to ask if you'll come down to the house and see the boy; he's on the sick + list.” + </p> + <p> + “What, Dusenberry?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir. He's pretty bad, I'm 'fraid, and the old lady's considerable + upsot about him. If you just come down and kind of take an observation, + so's we could sort of get our bearin's, as you might say, 'twould be a + mighty help to all hands.” + </p> + <p> + “But where's your town physician? Hasn't he been called?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain explained. He had inquired, and he had telegraphed, but could + get no word of Dr. Parker's whereabouts. + </p> + <p> + The great Boston specialist listened to Captain Hiram's story in an + absent-minded way. Holidays were few and far between with him, and when he + accepted the long-standing invitation of Mr. Ogden Williams to run down + for the week end he determined to forget the science of medicine and all + that pertained to it for the four days of his outing. But an exacting + patient had detained him long enough to prevent his taking the train that + morning, and now, on the moment of his belated arrival, he was asked to + pay a professional call. He liked the Captain, who had taken him out + fishing several times on his previous excursions to East Harniss, and he + remembered Dusenberry as a happy little sea urchin, but he simply couldn't + interrupt his pleasure trip to visit a sick baby. Besides, the child was + Dr. Parker's patient, and professional ethics forbade interference. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Hiram,” he said, “I am sorry to disappoint you, but it will be + impossible for me to do what you ask. Mr. Williams expected me this + morning, and I am late already. Dr. Parker will, no doubt, return soon. + The baby cannot be dangerously ill or he would not have left him.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain slowly turned away. + </p> + <p> + “Thank you, Doctor,” he said huskily. “I knew I hadn't no right to ask.” + </p> + <p> + He walked across the platform, abstractedly striking his right hand into + his left. When he reached the ticket window he put one hand against the + frame as if to steady himself, and stood there listlessly. + </p> + <p> + The enterprising Mr. Blount had been hanging about the Doctor like a cat + about the cream pitcher; now he rushed up, grasped the suit case, and + officiously led the way toward the depot wagon. Dr. Morgan followed more + slowly. As he passed the Captain he glanced up into the latter's face, + lighted, as it was, by the lamp inside the window. + </p> + <p> + The Doctor stopped and looked again. Then he took another step forward, + hesitated, turned on his heel, and said: + </p> + <p> + “Wait a moment, Blount. Captain Hiram, do you live far from here?” + </p> + <p> + The Captain started. “No, sir, only a little ways.” + </p> + <p> + “All right. I'll go down and look at this boy of yours. Mind you, I'll not + take the case, simply give my opinion on it, that's all. Blount, take my + grip to Mr. Williams's. I'm going to walk down with the Captain.” + </p> + <p> + “Haul on ee bowline, ee bowline, haul!” muttered the first mate, as they + came into the room. The lamp that Sophronia was holding shook, and the + Captain hurriedly brushed his eyes with the back of his hand. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morgan started perceptibly as he bent forward to look at the little + fevered face of Dusenberry. Graver and graver he became as he felt the + pulse and peered into the swollen throat. At length he rose and led the + way back into the sitting room. + </p> + <p> + “Captain Baker,” he said simply, “I must ask you and your wife to be + brave. The child has diphtheria and—” + </p> + <p> + “Diphthery!” gasped Sophronia, as white as her best tablecloth. + </p> + <p> + “Good Lord above!” cried the Captain. + </p> + <p> + “Diphtheria,” repeated the Doctor; “and, although I dislike extremely to + criticize a member of my own profession, I must say that any physician + should have recognized it.” + </p> + <p> + Sophronia groaned and covered her face with her apron. + </p> + <p> + “Ain't there—ain't there no chance, Doctor?” gasped the Captain. + </p> + <p> + “Certainly, there's a chance. If I could administer antitoxin by to-morrow + noon the patient might recover. What time does the morning train from + Boston arrive here?” + </p> + <p> + “Ha'f-past ten or thereabouts.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morgan took his notebook from his pocket and wrote a few lines in + pencil on one of the pages. Then he tore out the leaf and handed it to the + Captain. + </p> + <p> + “Send that telegram immediately to my assistant in Boston,” he said. “It + directs him to send the antitoxin by the early train. If nothing + interferes it should be here in time.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Hiram took the slip of paper and ran out at the door bareheaded. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morgan stood in the middle of the floor absent-mindedly looking at his + watch. Sophronia was gazing at him appealingly. At length he put his watch + in his pocket and said quietly: + </p> + <p> + “Mrs. Baker, I must ask you to give me a room. I will take the case.” Then + he added mentally: “And that settles my vacation.” + </p> + <p> + Dr. Morgan's assistant was a young man whom nature had supplied with a + prematurely bald head, a flourishing beard, and a way of appearing ten + years older than he really was. To these gifts, priceless to a young + medical man, might be added boundless ambition and considerable common + sense. + </p> + <p> + The yellow envelope which contained the few lines meaning life or death to + little Hiram Joash Baker was delivered at Dr. Morgan's Back Bay office at + ten minutes past ten. Dr. Payson—that was the assistant's name—was + out, but Jackson, the colored butler, took the telegram into his + employer's office, laid it on the desk among the papers, and returned to + the hall to finish his nap in the armchair. When Dr. Payson came in, at + 11:30, the sleepy Jackson forgot to mention the dispatch. + </p> + <p> + The next morning as Jackson was cleaning the professional boots in the + kitchen and chatting with the cook, the thought of the yellow envelope + came back to his brain. He went up the stairs with such precipitation that + the cook screamed, thinking he had a fit. + </p> + <p> + “Doctah! Doctah!” he exclaimed, opening the door of the assistant's + chamber, “did you git dat telegraft I lef' on your desk las' night?” + </p> + <p> + “What telegraph?” asked the assistant sleepily. By way of answer Jackson + hurried out and returned with the yellow envelope. The assistant opened it + and read as follows: + </p> + <p> + Send 1,500 units Diphtheritic Serum to me by morning train. Don't fail. + Utmost importance. + </p> + <p> + J. S. MORGAN. + </p> + <p> + Dr. Payson sprang out of bed, and running to the table took up the Railway + Guide, turned to the pages devoted to the O. C. and C. C. Railroad and ran + his finger down the printed tables. The morning train for Cape Cod left at + 7:10. It was 6:45 at that moment. As has been said, the assistant had + considerable common sense. He proved this by wasting no time in telling + the forgetful Jackson what he thought of him. He sent the latter after a + cab and proceeded to dress in double-quick time. Ten minutes later he was + on his way to the station with the little wooden case containing the + precious antitoxin, wrapped and addressed, in his pocket. + </p> + <p> + It was seven by the Arlington Street Church clock as the cab rattled down + Boylston Street. A tangle of a trolley car and a market wagon delayed it + momentarily at Harrison Avenue and Essex Street. Dr. Payson, leaning out + as the carriage swung into Dewey Square, saw by the big clock on the Union + Station that it was 7:13. He had lost the train. + </p> + <p> + Now, the assistant had been assistant long enough to know that excuses—in + the ordinary sense of the word—did not pass current with Dr. Morgan. + That gentleman had telegraphed for antitoxin, and said it was important + that he should have it; therefore, antitoxin must be sent in spite of + time-tables and forgetful butlers. Dr. Payson went into the waiting room + and sat down to think. After a moment's deliberation he went over to the + ticket office and asked: + </p> + <p> + “What is the first stop of the Cape Cod express?” + </p> + <p> + “Brockboro,” answered the ticket seller. + </p> + <p> + “Is the train usually on time?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, I should smile. That's Charlie Mills's train, and the old man ain't + been conductor on this road twenty-two years for nothin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Mills? Does he live on Shawmut Avenue?” + </p> + <p> + “Dunno. Billy, where does Charlie Mills live?” + </p> + <p> + “Somewhere at the South End. Shawmut Avenue, I think.” + </p> + <p> + “Thank you,” said the assistant, and, helping himself to a time-table, he + went back rejoicing to his seat in the waiting room. He had stumbled upon + an unexpected bit of luck. + </p> + <p> + There might be another story written in connection with this one; the + story of a veteran railroad man whose daughter had been very, very ill + with a dreaded disease of the lungs, and who, when other physicians had + given up hope, had been brought back to health by a celebrated specialist + of our acquaintance. But this story cannot be told just now; suffice it to + say that Conductor Charlie Mills had vowed that he would put his neck + beneath the wheels of his own express train, if by so doing he could + confer a favor on Dr. John Spencer Morgan. + </p> + <p> + The assistant saw by his time-table that the Cape Cod express reached + Brockboro at 8:05. He went over to the telegraph office and wrote two + telegrams. The first read like this: + </p> + <p> + CALVIN S. WISE, The People's Drug Store, 28 Broad Street, Brockboro, + Mass.: + </p> + <p> + Send package 1,500 units Diphtheritic Serum marked with my name to + station. Hand to Conductor Mills, Cape Cod express. Train will wait. + Matter life and death. + </p> + <p> + The second telegram was to Conductor Mills. It read: + </p> + <p> + Hold train Brockboro to await arrival C. A. Wise. Great personal favor. + Very important. + </p> + <p> + Both of these dispatches were signed with the magic name, “J. S. Morgan, + M.D.” + </p> + <p> + “Well,” said the assistant as he rode back to his office, “I don't know + whether Wise will get the stuff to the train in time, or whether Mills + will wait for him, but at any rate I've done my part. I hope breakfast is + ready, I'm hungry.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wise, of “The People's Drug Store,” had exactly two minutes in which + to cover the three-quarters of a mile to the station. As a matter of + course, he was late. Inquiring for Conductor Mills, he was met by a + red-faced man in uniform, who, watch in hand, demanded what in the vale of + eternal torment he meant by keeping him waiting eight minutes. + </p> + <p> + “Do you realize,” demanded the red-faced man, “that I'm liable to lose my + job? I'll have you to understand that if any other man than Doc. Morgan + asked me to hold up the Cape Cod express, I'd tell him to go right plumb + to—” + </p> + <p> + Here Mr. Wise interrupted to hand over the package and explain that it was + a matter of life and death. Conductor Mills only grunted as he swung + aboard the train. + </p> + <p> + “Hump her, Jim,” he said to the engineer; “she's got to make up those + eight minutes.” + </p> + <p> + And Jim did. + </p> + <p> + And so it happened that on the morning of the Fourth of July, Dusenberry's + birthday, Captain Hiram Baker and his wife sat together in the sitting + room, with very happy faces. The Captain had in his hands the “truly boat + with sails,” which the little first mate had so ardently wished for. + </p> + <p> + She was a wonder, that boat. Red hull, real lead on the keel, brass rings + on the masts, reef points on the main and fore sail, jib, flying jib and + topsails, all complete. And on the stern was the name, “Dusenberry. East + Harniss.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Hiram set her down in front of him on the floor. + </p> + <p> + “Gee!” he exclaimed, “won't his eyes stick out when he sees that rig, hey? + Wisht he would be well enough to see it to-day, same as we planned.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, Hiram,” said Sophrony, “we hadn't ought to complain. We'd ought to + be thankful he's goin' to get well at all. Dr. Morgan says, thanks to that + blessed toxing stuff, he'll be up and around in a couple of weeks.” + </p> + <p> + “Sophrony,” said her husband, “we'll have a special birthday celebration + for him when he gets all well. You can bake the frosted cake and we'll + have some of the other children in. I TOLD you God wouldn't be cruel + enough to take him away.” + </p> + <p> + And this is how Fate and the medical profession and the O. C. and C. C. + Railroad combined to give little Hiram Joash Baker his birthday, and + explains why, as he strolled down Main Street that afternoon, Captain + Hiram was heard to sing heartily: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + Haul on the bowline, the 'Phrony is a-rollin', + Haul on the bowline, the bowline, HAUL! +</pre> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0014" id="link2HCH0014"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XIV + </h2> + <h3> + EFFIE'S FATE + </h3> + <p> + Surely, but very, very slowly, the little Berry house moved on its rollers + up the Hill Boulevard. Right at its heels—if a house may be said to + have heels—came the “pure Colonial,” under the guidance of the + foreman with “progressive methods.” Groups of idlers, male and female, + stood about and commented. Simeon Phinney smilingly replied to their + questions. Captain Sol himself seemed little interested. He spent most of + his daylight time at the depot, only going to the Higginses' house for his + meals. At night, after the station was closed, he sought his own dwelling, + climbed over the joist and rollers, entered, retired to his room, and went + to bed. + </p> + <p> + Each day also he grew more taciturn. Even with Simeon, his particular + friend, he talked little. + </p> + <p> + “What IS the matter with you, Sol?” asked Mr. Phinney. “You're as glum as + a tongue-tied parrot. Ain't you satisfied with the way I'm doin' your + movin'? The white horse can go back again if you say so.” + </p> + <p> + “I'm satisfied,” grunted the depot master. “Let you know when I've got any + fault to find. How soon will you get abreast the—abreast the Seabury + lot?” + </p> + <p> + “Let's see,” mused the building mover. “Today's the eighth. Well, I'll be + there by the eleventh, SURE. Can't drag it out no longer, Sol, even if the + other horse is took sick. 'Twon't do. Williams has been complainin' to the + selectmen and they're beginnin' to pester me. As for that Colt and Adams + foreman—whew!” + </p> + <p> + He whistled. His companion smiled grimly. + </p> + <p> + “Williams himself drops in to see me occasional,” he said. “Tells me what + he thinks of me, with all the trimmin's added. I cal'late he gets as good + as he sends. I'm always glad to see him; he keeps me cheered up, in his + way.” + </p> + <p> + “Ye-es, I shouldn't wonder. Was he in to-day?” + </p> + <p> + “He was. And somethin' has pleased him, I guess. At any rate he was in + better spirits. Asked me if I was goin' to move right onto that Main + Street lot soon as my house got there.” + </p> + <p> + “What did you say?” + </p> + <p> + “I said I was cal'latin' to. Told him I hated to get out of the + high-society circles I'd been livin' in lately, but that everyone had + their comedowns in this world.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho, ho! that was a good one. What answer did he make to that?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, he said the 'high society' would miss me. Then he finished up with + a piece of advice. 'Berry,' says he, 'don't move onto that lot TOO quick. + I wouldn't if I was you.' Then he went away, chucklin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Chucklin', hey? What made him so joyful?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't know”—Captain Sol's face clouded once more—“and I care + less,” he added brusquely. + </p> + <p> + Simeon pondered. “Have you heard from Abner Payne, Sol?” he asked. “Has Ab + answered that letter you wrote sayin' you'd swap your lot for the Main + Street one?” + </p> + <p> + “No, he hasn't. I wrote him that day I told you to move me.” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! that's kind of funny. You don't s'pose—” + </p> + <p> + He stopped, noticing the expression on his friend's face. The depot master + was looking out through the open door of the waiting room. On the opposite + side of the road, just emerging from Mr. Higgins's “general store,” was + Olive Edwards, the widow whose home was to be pulled down as soon as the + “Colonial” reached its destination. She came out of the store and started + up Main Street. Suddenly, and as if obeying an involuntary impulse, she + turned her head. Her eyes met those of Captain Sol Berry, the depot + master. For a brief instant their glance met, then Mrs. Edwards hurried + on. + </p> + <p> + Sim Phinney sighed pityingly. “Looks kind of tired and worried, don't + she?” he ventured. His friend did not speak. + </p> + <p> + “I say,” repeated Phinney, “that Olive looks sort of worn out and—” + </p> + <p> + “Has she heard from the Omaha cousin yet?” interrupted the depot master. + </p> + <p> + “No; Mr. Hilton says not. Sol, what DO you s'pose—” + </p> + <p> + But Captain Sol had risen and gone into the ticket office. The door closed + behind him. Mr. Phinney shook his head and walked out of the building. On + his way back to the scene of the house moving he shook his head several + times. + </p> + <p> + On the afternoon of the ninth Captain Bailey Stitt and his friend Wingate + came to say good-by. Stitt was going back to Orham on the “up” train, due + at 3:30. Barzilla would return to Wellmouth and the Old Home House on the + evening (the “down”) train. + </p> + <p> + “Hey, Sol!” shouted Wingate, as they entered the waiting room. “Sol! where + be you?” + </p> + <p> + The depot master came out of the ticket office. “Hello, boys!” he said + shortly. + </p> + <p> + “Hello, Sol!” hailed Stitt. “Barzilla and me have come to shed the + farewell tear. As hirelin's of soulless corporations, meanin' the Old Home + House at Wellmouth and the Ocean House at Orham, we've engaged all the + shellfish along-shore and are goin' to clear out.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” chimed in his fellow “hireling,” “and we thought the pleasantest + place to put in our few remainin' hours—as the papers say when a + feller's goin' to be hung—was with you.” + </p> + <p> + “I thought so,” said Captain Bailey, with a wink. “We've been havin' more + or less of an argument, Sol. Remember how Barzilla made fun of Jonadab + Wixon for believin' in dreams? Yes, well that was only make believe. He + believes in 'em himself.” + </p> + <p> + “I don't either,” declared Wingate. “And I never said so. What I said was + that sometimes it almost seemed as if there was somethin' IN fortune + tellin' and such.” + </p> + <p> + “There is,” chuckled Bailey with another wink at the depot master. + “There's money in it—for the fortune tellers.” + </p> + <p> + “I said—and I say again,” protested Barzilla, “that I knew a case at + our hotel of a servant girl named Effie, and she—” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, Heavens to Betsy! Here he goes again, I steered him in here on + purpose, Sol, so's he'd get off that subject.” + </p> + <p> + “You never neither. You said—” + </p> + <p> + The depot master held up his hand. “Don't both talk at once,” he + commanded. “Set down and be peaceful, can't you. That's right. What about + this Effie, Barzilla?” + </p> + <p> + “Now look here!” protested Stitt. + </p> + <p> + “Shut up, Bailey! Who was Effie, Barzilla?” + </p> + <p> + “She was third assistant roustabout and table girl at the Old Home House,” + said Wingate triumphantly. “Got another cigar, Sol? Thanks. Yes, this + Effie had never worked out afore and she was greener'n a mess of spinach; + but she was kind of pretty to look at and—” + </p> + <p> + “Ah, ha!” crowed Captain Bailey, “here comes the heart confessions. Want + to look out for these old bachelors, Sol. Fire away, Barzilla; let us know + the worst.” + </p> + <p> + “I took a fancy to her, in a way. She got in the habit of tellin' me her + troubles and secrets, me bein' old enough to be her dad—” + </p> + <p> + “Aw, yes!” this from Stitt, the irrepressible. “That's an old gag. We know—” + </p> + <p> + “WILL you shut up?” demanded Captain Sol. “Go on, Barzilla.” + </p> + <p> + “Me bein' old enough to be her dad,” with a glare at Captain Bailey, “and + not bein' too proud to talk with hired help. I never did have that + high-toned notion. 'Twa'n't so long since I was a fo'mast hand. + </p> + <p> + “So Effie told me a lot about herself. Seems she'd been over to the Cattle + Show at Ostable one year, and she was loaded to the gunwale with some more + or less facts that a fortune-tellin' specimen by the name of the + 'Marvelous Oriental Seer' had handed her in exchange for a quarter. + </p> + <p> + “'Yup,' says she, bobbin' her head so emphatic that the sky-blue ribbon + pennants on her black hair flapped like a loose tops'l in a gale of wind. + 'Yup,' says she, 'I b'lieve it just as much as I b'lieve anything. How + could I help it when he told me so much that has come true already? He + said I'd seen trouble, and the dear land knows that's so! and that I might + see more, and I cal'late that's pretty average likely. And he said I + hadn't been brought up in luxury—' + </p> + <p> + “'Which wa'n't no exaggeration neither,' I put in, thinkin' of the shack + over on the Neck Road where she and her folks used to live. + </p> + <p> + “'No,' says she; 'and he told me I'd always had longin's for better and + higher things and that my intellectuals was above my station. Well, ever + sence I was knee high to a kitchen chair I'd ruther work upstairs than + down, and as for intellectuals, ma always said I was the smartest young + one she'd raised yet. So them statements give me consider'ble confidence. + But he give out that I was to make a journey and get money, and when THAT + come true I held up both hands and stood ready to swaller all the rest of + it.' + </p> + <p> + “'So it come true, did it?' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'Um-hm,' says she, bouncin' her head again. 'Inside of four year I + traveled 'way over to South Eastboro—'most twelve mile—to my + Uncle Issy's fun'ral, and there I found that he'd left me nine hundred + dollars for my very own. And down I flops on the parlor sofy and says I: + “There! don't talk superstition to ME no more! A person that can foretell + Uncle Issy's givin' anybody a cent, let alone nine hundred dollars, is a + good enough prophet for ME to tie to. Now I KNOW that I'm going to marry + the dark-complected man, and I'll be ready for him when he comes along. I + never spent a quarter no better than when I handed it over to that + Oriental Seer critter at the Cattle Show.” That's what I said then and I + b'lieve it yet. Wouldn't you feel the same way?' + </p> + <p> + “I said sure thing I would. I'd found out that the best way to keep + Effie's talk shop runnin' was to agree with her. And I liked to hear her + talk. + </p> + <p> + “'Yup,' she went on, 'I give right in then. I'd traveled same as the + fortune teller said, and I'd got more money'n I ever expected to see, let + alone own. And ever sence I've been sartin as I'm alive that the feller I + marry will be of a rank higher'n mine and dark complected and good-lookin' + and distinguished, and that he'll be name of Butler.' + </p> + <p> + “'Butler?' says I. 'What will he be named Butler for?' + </p> + <p> + “''Cause the Seer critter said so. He said he could see the word Butler + printed out over the top of my head in flamin' letters. Pa used to say + 'twas a wonder it never set fire to my crimps, but he was only foolin'. I + know that it's all comin' out true. You ain't acquaintanced to any + Butlers, are you?' + </p> + <p> + “'No,' says I. 'I heard Ben Butler make a speech once when he was gov'nor, + but he's dead now. There ain't no Butlers on the Old Home shippin' lists.' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, I know that!' she says. 'And everybody round here is homelier'n a + moultin' pullet. There now! I didn't mean exactly EVERYbody, of course. + But you ain't dark complected, you know, nor—' + </p> + <p> + “'No,' says I, 'nor rank nor distinguished neither. Course the handsome + part might fit me, but I'd have to pass on the rest of the hand. That's + all right, Effie; my feelin's have got fire-proofed sence I've been in the + summer hotel business. Now you'd better run along and report to Susannah. + I hear her whoopin' for you, and she don't light like a canary bird on the + party she's mad with.' + </p> + <p> + “She didn't, that was a fact. Susannah Debs, who was housekeeper for us + that year, was middlin' young and middlin' good-lookin', and couldn't + forget it. Also and likewise, she had a suit for damages against the + railroad, which she had hopes would fetch her money some day or other, and + she couldn't forget that neither. She was skipper of all the hired hands + and, bein' as Effie was prettier than she was, never lost a chance to lay + the poor girl out. She put the other help up to pokin' fun at Effie's + green ways and high-toned notions, and 'twas her that started 'em callin' + her 'Lady Evelyn' in the fo'castle—servants' quarters, I mean. + </p> + <p> + “'I'm a-comin', 'screams Effie, startin' for the door. 'Susannah's in a + tearin' hurry to get through early to-day,' she adds to me. 'She's got the + afternoon off, and her beau's comin' to take her buggy ridin'. He's from + over Harniss way somewheres and they say he's just lovely. My sakes! I + wisht somebody'd take ME to ride. Ah hum! cal'late I'll have to wait for + my Butler man. Say, Mr. Wingate, you won't mention my fortune to a soul, + will you? I never told anybody but you.' + </p> + <p> + “I promised to keep mum and she cleared out. After dinner, as I was + smokin', along with Cap'n Jonadab, on the side piazza, a horse and buggy + drove in at the back gate. A young chap with black curly hair was pilotin' + the craft. He was a stranger to me, wore a checkerboard suit and a bonfire + necktie, and had his hat twisted over one ear. Altogether he looked some + like a sunflower goin' to seed. + </p> + <p> + “'Who's that barber's sign when it's to home?' says I to Jonadab. He + snorted contemptuous. + </p> + <p> + “'That?' he says. 'Don't you know the cut of that critter's jib? He plays + pool “for the house” in Web Saunders's place over to Orham. He's the + housekeeper's steady comp'ny—steady by spells, if all I hear's true. + Good-for-nothin' cub, I call him. Wisht I'd had him aboard a vessel of + mine; I'd 'a' squared his yards for him. Look how he cants his hat to + starboard so's to show them lovelocks. Bah!' + </p> + <p> + “'What's his name?' I asks. + </p> + <p> + “'Name? Name's Butler—Simeon Butler. Don't you remember . . . Hey? + What in tunket . . .?' + </p> + <p> + “Both of us had jumped as if somebody'd touched off a bombshell under our + main hatches. The windows of the dining room was right astern of us. We + whirled round, and there was Effie. She'd been clearin' off one of the + tables and there she stood, with the smashed pieces of an ice-cream + platter in front of her, the melted cream sloppin' over her shoes, and her + face lookin' like the picture of Lot's wife just turnin' to salt. Only + Effie looked as if she enjoyed the turnin'. She never spoke nor moved, + just stared after that buggy with her black eyes sparklin' like burnt + holes in a blanket. + </p> + <p> + “I was too astonished to say anything, but Jonadab had his eye on that + smashed platter and HE had things to say, plenty of 'em. I walked off and + left Effie playin' congregation to a sermon on the text 'Crockery costs + money.' You'd think that ice-cream dish was a genuine ugly, nicked + 'antique' wuth any city loon's ten dollars, instead of bein' only new and + pretty fifty-cent china. I felt real sorry for the poor girl. + </p> + <p> + “But I needn't have been. That evenin' I found her on the back steps, all + Sunday duds and airs. Her hair had a wire friz on it, and her dress had + Joseph's coat in Scriptur' lookin' like a mournin' rig. She'd have been + real handsome—to a body that was color blind. + </p> + <p> + “'My, Effie!' says I, 'you sartin do look fine to-night.' + </p> + <p> + “'Yup,' she says, contented, 'I guess likely I do. Hope so, 'cause I'm + wearin' all I've got. Say, Mr. Wingate,' says she, excited as a cat in a + fit, 'did you see him?' + </p> + <p> + “'Him?' says I. 'Who's him?' + </p> + <p> + “'Why, HIM! The one the Seer said was comin'. The handsome, + dark-complected feller I'm goin' to marry. The Butler one. That was him in + the buggy this afternoon.' + </p> + <p> + “I looked at her. I'd forgot all about the fool prophecy. + </p> + <p> + “'Good land of love!' I says. 'You don't cal'late he's comin' to marry + YOU, do you, just 'cause his name's Butler? There's ten thousand Butlers + in the world. Besides, your particular one was slated to be high ranked + and distinguished, and this specimen scrubs up the billiard-room floor and + ain't no more distinguished than a poorhouse pig.' + </p> + <p> + “'Ain't?' she sings out. 'Ain't distinguished? With all them beautiful + curls, and rings on his fingers, and—' + </p> + <p> + “'Bells on his toes? No!' says I, emphatic. 'Anyhow, he's signed for the + v'yage already. He's Susannah Debs's steady, and they're off buggy ridin' + together right now. And if she catches you makin' eyes at her best feller—Whew!' + </p> + <p> + “Didn't make no difference. He was her Butler, sure. 'Twas Fate—that's + what 'twas—Fate, just the same as in storybooks. She was sorry for + poor Susannah and she wouldn't do nothin' mean nor underhanded; but + couldn't I understand that 'twas all planned out for her by Providence and + that everlastin' Seer? Just let me watch and see, that's all. + </p> + <p> + “What can you do with an idiot like that? I walked off disgusted and left + her. But I cal'lated to watch. I judged 'twould be more fun than any + 'play-actin' show ever I took in. + </p> + <p> + “And 'twas, in a way. Don't ask me how they got acquainted, 'cause I can't + tell you for sartin. Nigh's I can learn, Susannah and Sim had some sort of + lover's row durin' their buggy ride, and when they got back to the hotel + they was scurcely on speakin' terms. And Sim, who always had a watch out + for'ard for pretty girls, see Effie standin' on the servants' porch all + togged up regardless and gay as a tea-store chromo, and nothin' to do but + he must be introduced. One of the stable hands done the introducin', I + b'lieve, and if he'd have been hung afterwards 'twould have sarved him + right. + </p> + <p> + “Anyhow, inside of a week Butler come round again to take a lady friend + drivin', but this time 'twas Effie, not the housekeeper, that was + passenger. And Susannah glared after 'em like a cat after a sparrow, and + the very next day she was for havin' Effie discharged for + incompetentiveness. I give Jonadab the tip, though, so that didn't go + through. But I cal'late there was a parrot and monkey time among the help + from then on. + </p> + <p> + “They all sided with Susannah, of course. She was their boss, for one + thing, and 'Lady Evelyn's' high-minded notions wa'n't popular, for + another. But Effie didn't care—bless you, no! She and that Butler + sport was together more and more, and the next thing I heard was that they + was engaged. I snum, if it didn't look as if the Oriental man knew his job + after all. + </p> + <p> + “I spoke to the stable hand about it. + </p> + <p> + “'Look here,' says I, 'is this business betwixt that pool player and our + Effie serious?' + </p> + <p> + “He laughed. 'Serious enough, I guess,' he says. 'They're goin' to be + married pretty soon, I hear. It's all 'cordin' to the law and the + prophets. Ain't you heard about the fortune tellin' and how 'twas foretold + she'd marry a Butler?' + </p> + <p> + “I'd heard, but I didn't s'pose he had. However, it seemed that Effie + hadn't been able to keep it to herself no longer. Soon as she'd hooked her + man she'd blabbed the whole thing. The fo'mast hands wa'n't talkin' of + nothin' else, so this feller said. + </p> + <p> + “'Humph!' says I. 'Is it the prophecy that Butler's bankin' on?' + </p> + <p> + “He laughed again. 'Not so much as on Lady Evelyn's nine hundred, I + cal'late,' says he. Sim likes Susannah the best of the two, so we all + reckon, but she ain't rich and Effie is. And yet, if the Debs woman should + win that lawsuit of hers against the railroad she'd have pretty nigh twice + as much. Butler's a fool not to wait, I think,' he says. + </p> + <p> + “This was of a Monday. On Friday evenin' Effie comes around to see me. I + was alone in the office. + </p> + <p> + “'Mr. Wingate,' she says, 'I'm goin' to leave to-morrer night. I'm goin' + to be married on Sunday.' + </p> + <p> + “I'd been expecting it, but I couldn't help feelin' sorry for her. + </p> + <p> + “'Don't do nothin' rash, Effie,' I told her. 'Are you sure that Butler + critter cares anything about you and not your money?' + </p> + <p> + “She flared up like a tar barrel. 'The idea!' she says, turnin' red. 'I + just come in to give you warnin'. Good-by.' + </p> + <p> + “'Hold on,' I sung out to her. 'Effie, I've thought consider'ble about you + lately. I've been tryin' to help you a little on the sly. I realized that + 'twa'n't pleasant for you workin' here under Susannah Debs, and I've been + tryin' to find a nice place for you. I wrote about you to Bob Van + Wedderburn; he's the rich banker chap who stopped here one summer. + “Jonesy,” we used to call him. I know him and his wife fust rate, and he'd + do 'most anything as a favor to me. I told him what a neat, handy girl you + was, and he writes that he'll give you the job of second girl at his swell + New York house, if you want it. Now you just hand that Sim Butler his + clearance papers and go work for Bob's wife. The wages are double what you + get here, and—' + </p> + <p> + “She didn't wait to hear the rest. Just sailed out of the room with her + nose in the air. In a minute, though, back she come and just put her head + in the door. + </p> + <p> + “'I'm much obliged to you, Mr. Wingate,' says she. 'I know you mean well. + But you ain't had your fate foretold, same's I have. It's all been + arranged for me, and I couldn't stop it no more'n Jonah could help + swallerin' the whale. I—I kind of wish you'd be on hand at the back + door on Sunday mornin' when Simeon comes to take me away. You—you're + about the only real friend I've got,' she says. + </p> + <p> + “And off she went, for good this time. I pitied her, in spite of her bein' + such a dough head. I knew what sort of a husband that pool-room shark + would make. However, there wa'n't nothin' to be done. And next day Cap'n + Jonadab was round, madder'n a licked pup. Seems Susannah's lawyer at Orham + had sent for her to come right off and see him. Somethin' about the suit, + it was. And she was goin' in spite of everything. And with Effie's leavin' + at the same time, what was we goin' to do over Sunday? and so forth and so + on. + </p> + <p> + “Well, we had to do the best we could, that's all. But that Saturday was + busy, now I tell you. Sunday mornin' broke fine and clear and, after + breakfast was over, I remembered Effie and that 'twas her weddin' day. On + the back steps I found her, dressed in all her grandeur, with her packed + trunk ready, waitin' for the bridegroom. + </p> + <p> + “'Ain't come yet, hey, Effie?' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'No,' says she, smilin' and radiant. 'It's a little early for him yet, I + guess.' + </p> + <p> + “I went off to 'tend to the boarders. At half past ten, when I made the + back steps again, she was still there. T'other servants was peekin' out of + the kitchen windows, grinnin' and passin' remarks. + </p> + <p> + “'Hello!' I calls out. 'Not married yet? What's the matter?' + </p> + <p> + “She'd stopped smilin', but she was as chipper as ever, to all + appearances. + </p> + <p> + “'I—I guess the horse has gone lame or somethin',' says she. 'He'll + be here any time now.' + </p> + <p> + “There was a cackle from the kitchen windows. I never said nothin'. She'd + made her nest; now let her roost on it. + </p> + <p> + “But at twelve Butler hadn't hove in sight. Every hand, male and female, + on the place, that wa'n't busy, was hangin' around the back of the hotel, + waitin' and watchin' and ridiculin' and havin' a high time. Them that had + errands made it a p'int to cruise past that way. Lots of the boarders had + got wind of the doin's, and they was there, too. + </p> + <p> + “Effie was settin' on her trunk, tryin' hard to look brave. I went up and + spoke to her. + </p> + <p> + “'Come, my girl,' says I. 'Don't set here no longer. Come into the house + and wait. Hadn't you better?' + </p> + <p> + “'No!' says she, loud and defiant like. 'No, sir! It's all right. He's a + little late, that's all. What do you s'pose I care for a lot of jealous + folks like those up there?' wavin' her flipper scornful toward the + kitchen. + </p> + <p> + “And then, all to once, she kind of broke down, and says to me, with a + pitiful sort of choke in her voice: + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, Mr. Wingate! I can't stand this. Why DON'T he come?' + </p> + <p> + “I tried hard to think of somethin' comfortin' to say, but afore I could + h'ist a satisfyin' word out of my hatches I heard the noise of a carriage + comin'. Effie heard it, too, and so did everybody else. We all looked + toward the gate. 'Twas Sim Butler, sure enough, in his buggy and drivin' + the same old horse; but settin' alongside of him on the seat was Susannah + Debs, the housekeeper. And maybe she didn't look contented with things in + gen'ral! + </p> + <p> + “Butler pulled up his horse by the gate. Him and Susannah bowed to all + hands. Nobody said anything for a minute. Then Effie bounced off the trunk + and down them steps. + </p> + <p> + “'Simmie' she sung out, breathless like, 'Simeon Butler, what does this + mean?' + </p> + <p> + “The Debs woman straightened up on the seat. 'Thank you, marm,' says she, + chilly as the top section of an ice chest, 'I'll request you not to call + my husband by his first name.' + </p> + <p> + “It was so still you could have heard yourself grow. Effie turned white as + a Sunday tablecloth. + </p> + <p> + “'Your—husband?' she gasps. 'Your—your HUSBAND?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, marm,' purrs the housekeeper. 'My husband was what I said. Mr. + Butler and me have just been married.' + </p> + <p> + “'Sorry, Effie, old girl,' puts in Butler, so sassy I'd love to have + preached his fun'ral sermon. 'Too bad, but fust love's strongest, you + know. Susie and me was engaged long afore you come to town.' + </p> + <p> + “THEN such a haw-haw and whoop bust from the kitchen and fo'castle as you + never heard. For a jiffy poor Effie wilted right down. Then she braced up + and her black eyes snapped. + </p> + <p> + “'I wish you joy of your bargain, marm,' says she to Susannah. 'You'd + ought to be proud of it. And as for YOU,' she says, swingin' round toward + the rest of the help, 'I—' + </p> + <p> + “'How 'bout that prophet?' hollers somebody. + </p> + <p> + “'Three cheers for the Oriental!' bellers somebody else. + </p> + <p> + “'When you marry the right Butler fetch him along and let us see him!' + whoops another. + </p> + <p> + “She faced 'em all, and I gloried in her spunk. + </p> + <p> + “'When I marry him I WILL come back,' says she. 'And when I do you'll have + to get down on your knees and wait on me. You—and you—Yes, and + YOU, too!' + </p> + <p> + “The last two 'yous' was hove at Sim and Susannah. Then she turned and + marched into the hotel. And the way them hired hands carried on was + somethin' scandalous—till I stepped in and took charge of the deck. + </p> + <p> + “That very afternoon I put Effie and her trunk aboard the train. I paid + her fare to New York and give her directions how to locate the Van + Wedderburns. + </p> + <p> + “'So long, Effie,' says I to her. 'It's all right. You're enough sight + better off. All you want to do now is to work hard and forget all that + fortune-tellin' foolishness.' + </p> + <p> + “She whirled on me like a top. + </p> + <p> + “'Forget it!' she says. 'I GUESS I shan't forget it! It's comin' true, I + tell you—same as all the rest come true. You said yourself there was + ten thousand Butlers in the world. Some day the right one—the + handsome, high-ranked, distinguished one—will come along, and I'll + get him. You wait and see, Mr. Wingate—just you wait and see.'” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0015" id="link2HCH0015"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XV + </h2> + <h3> + THE “HERO” AND THE COWBOY + </h3> + <p> + “So that was the end of it, hey?” said Captain Bailey. “Well, it's what + you might expect, but it wa'n't much to be so anxious to tell; and as for + PROVIN' anything about fortune tellin'—why—” + </p> + <p> + “It AIN'T the end,” shouted the exasperated Barzilla. “Not nigh the end. + 'Twas the beginnin'. The housekeeper left us that day, of course, and for + the rest of that summer the servant question kept me and Jonadab from + thinkin' of other things. Course, the reason for the Butler scamp's sudden + switch was plain enough. Susannah's lawyer had settled the case with the + railroad and, even after his fee was subtracted, there was fifteen hundred + left. That was enough sight better'n nine hundred, so Sim figgered when he + heard of it; and he hustled to make up with his old girl. + </p> + <p> + “Fifteen hundred dollars doesn't last long with some folks. At the + beginnin' of the next spring season both of 'em was round huntin' jobs. + Susannah was a fust-rate waitress, so we hired her for that—no more + housekeeper for hers, and served her right. As for her husband, we took + him on in the stable. He wouldn't have been wuth his salt if it hadn't + been for her. She said she'd keep him movin' and she did. She nagged and + henpecked him till I'd have been sorry if 'twas anybody else; as 'twas, I + got consider'ble satisfaction out of it. + </p> + <p> + “I got one letter from Effie pretty soon after she left, sayin' she liked + her new job and that the Van Wedderburns liked her. And that's all I did + hear, though Bob himself wrote me in May, sayin' him and Mabel, his wife, + had bought a summer cottage in Wapatomac, and me and Jonadab—especially + me—must be sure and come to see it and them. He never mentioned his + second girl, and I almost forgot her myself. + </p> + <p> + “But one afternoon in early July a big six-cylinder automobile come + sailin' down the road and into the Old Home House yard. A shofer—I + b'lieve that's what they call the tribe—was at the helm of it, and + on the back seat, lollin' luxurious against the upholstery, was a man and + a woman, got up regardless in silk dusters and goggles and veils and + prosperity. I never expect to see the Prince of Wales and his wife, but I + know how they'd look—after seein' them two. + </p> + <p> + “Jonadab was at the bottom step to welcome 'em, bowin' and scrapin' as if + his middle j'int had just been iled. I wa'n't fur astern, and every + boarder on deck was all eyes and envy. + </p> + <p> + “The shofer opens the door of the after cockpit of the machine, and the + man gets out fust, treadin' gingerly but grand, as if he was doin' the + ground a condescension by steppin' on it. Then he turns to the woman and + she slides out, her duds rustlin' like the wind in a scrub oak. The pair + sails up the steps, Jonadab and me backin' and fillin' in front of 'em. + All the help that could get to a window to peek had knocked off work to do + it. + </p> + <p> + “'Ahem!' says the man, pompous as Julius Caesar—he was big and + straight and fine lookin' and had black side whiskers half mast on his + cheeks—ahem!' says he. 'I say, good people, may we have dinner + here?' + </p> + <p> + “Well, they tell us time and tide waits for no man, but prob'ly that don't + include the nobility. Anyhow, although 'twas long past our reg'lar dinner + time, I heard Jonadab tellin' 'em sure and sartin they could. If they + wouldn't mind settin' on the piazza or in the front parlor for a spell, + he'd have somethin' prepared in a jiffy. So up to the piazza they paraded + and come to anchor in a couple of chairs. + </p> + <p> + “'You can have your automobile put right into the barn,' I says, 'if you + want to.' + </p> + <p> + “'I don't know as it will be necessary—' began the big feller, but + the woman interrupted him. She was starin' through her thick veil at the + barn door. Sim Butler, in his overalls and ragged shirt sleeves, was + leanin' against that door, interested as the rest of us in what was goin' + on. + </p> + <p> + “'I would have it put there, I think,' says the woman, lofty and superior. + 'It is rather dusty, and I think the wheels ought to be washed. Can that + man be trusted to wash 'em?' she asks, pointin' kind of scornful at + Simeon. + </p> + <p> + “'Yes, marm, I cal'late so,' I says. 'Here, Sim!' I sung out, callin' + Butler over to the steps. 'Can you wash the dust off them wheels?' + </p> + <p> + “He said course he could, but he didn't act joyful over the job. The woman + seemed some doubtful. + </p> + <p> + “'He looks like a very ignorant, common person,' says she, loud and clear, + so that everybody, includin' the 'ignorant person' himself, could hear + her. 'However, James'll superintend. James,' she orders the shofer, 'you + see that it is well done, won't you? Make him be very careful.' + </p> + <p> + “James looked Butler over from head to foot. 'Humph!' he sniffs, + contemptuous, with a kind of half grin on his face. 'Yes, marm, I'll 'tend + to it.' + </p> + <p> + “So he steered the auto into the barn, and Simeon got busy. Judgin' by the + sharp language that drifted out through the door, 'twas plain that the + shofer was superintendin' all right. + </p> + <p> + “Jonadab heaves in sight, bowin', and makes proclamation that dinner is + served. The pair riz up majestic and headed for the dinin' room. The woman + was a little astern of her man, and in the hall she turns brisk to me. + </p> + <p> + “'Mr. Wingate,' she whispers, 'Mr. Wingate.' + </p> + <p> + “I stared at her. Her voice had sounded sort of familiar ever sence I + heard it, but the veil kept a body from seein' what she looked like. + </p> + <p> + “'Hey?' I sings out. 'Have I ever—' + </p> + <p> + “'S-s-h-h!' she whispers. 'Say, Mr. Wingate, that—that Susannah + thing is here, ain't she? Have her wait on us, will you, please?' + </p> + <p> + “And she swept the veil off her face. I choked up and staggered bang! + against the wall. I swan to man if it wa'n't Effie! EFFIE, in silks and + automobiles and gorgeousness! + </p> + <p> + “Afore I could come to myself the two of 'em marched into that dining + room. I heard a grunt and a 'Land of love!' from just ahead of me. That + was Jonadab. And from all around that dinin' room come a sort of gasp and + then the sound of whisperin'. That was the help. + </p> + <p> + “They took a table by the window, which had been made ready. Down they set + like a king and a queen perchin' on thrones. One of the waiter girls went + over to em. + </p> + <p> + “But I'd come out of my trance a little mite. The situation was miles + ahead of my brain, goodness knows, but the joke of it all was gettin' a + grip on me. I remembered what Effie had asked and I spoke up prompt. + </p> + <p> + “'Susannah,' says I, 'this is a particular job and we're anxious to + please. You'd better do the waitin' yourself.' + </p> + <p> + “I wish you could have seen the glare that ex-housekeeper give me. For a + second I thought we'd have open mutiny. But her place wa'n't any too + sartin and she didn't dare risk it. Over she walked to that table, and the + fun began. + </p> + <p> + “Jonadab had laid himself out to make that meal a success, but they ate it + as if 'twas pretty poor stuff and not by no means what they fed on every + day. They found fault with 'most everything, but most especial with + Susannah's waitin'. My! how they did order her around—a mate on a + cattle boat wa'n't nothin' to it. And when 'twas all over and they got up + to go, Effie says, so's all hands can hear: + </p> + <p> + “'The food here is not so bad, but the service—oh, horrors! However, + Albert,' says she to the side-whiskered man, 'you had better give the girl + our usual tip. She looks as if she needed it, poor thing!' + </p> + <p> + “Then they paraded out of the room, and I see Susannah sling the half + dollar the man had left on the table clear to Jericho, it seemed like. + </p> + <p> + “The auto was waitin' by the piazza steps. The shofer and Butler was + standin' by it. And when Sim see Effie with her veil throwed back he + pretty nigh fell under the wheels he'd been washin' so hard. And he looked + as if he wisht they'd run over him. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, dear!' sighs Effie, lookin' scornful at the wheels. 'Not half clean, + just as I expected. I knew by the looks of that—that PERSON that he + wouldn't do it well. Don't give him much, Albert; he ain't earned it.' + </p> + <p> + “They climbed into the cockpit, the shofer took the helm, and they was + ready to start. But I couldn't let 'em go that way. Out I run. + </p> + <p> + “'Say—say, Effie!' I whispers, eager. 'For the goodness' sakes, + what's all this mean? Is that your—your—' + </p> + <p> + “'My husband? Yup,' she whispers back, her eyes shinin'. 'Didn't I tell + you to look out for my prophecy? Ain't he handsome and distinguished, just + as I said? Good-by, Mr. Wingate; maybe I'll see you again some day.' + </p> + <p> + “The machinery barked and they got under way. I run along for two steps + more. + </p> + <p> + “'But, Effie,' says I, 'tell me—is his name—?' + </p> + <p> + “She didn't answer. She was watchin' Sim Butler and his wife. Sim had + stooped to pick up the quarter the Prince of Wales had hove at him. And + that was too much for Susannah, who was watchin' from the window. + </p> + <p> + “'Don't you touch that money!' she screams. 'Don't you lay a finger on it! + Ain't you got any self-respect at all, you miser'ble, low-lived—' + and so forth and so on. All the way to the front gate I see Effie leanin' + out, lookin' and listenin' and smilin'. + </p> + <p> + “Then the machine buzzed off in a typhoon of dust and I went back to + Jonadab, who was a livin' catechism of questions which neither one of us + could answer.” + </p> + <p> + “So THAT'S the end!” exclaimed Captain Bailey. “Well—” + </p> + <p> + “No, it ain't the end—not even yet. Maybe it ought to be, but it + ain't. There's a little more of it. + </p> + <p> + “A fortni't later I took a couple of days off and went up to Wapatomac to + visit the Van Wedderburns, same as I'd promised. Their 'cottage' was + pretty nigh big enough for a hotel, and was so grand that I, even if I did + have on my Sunday frills, was 'most ashamed to ring the doorbell. + </p> + <p> + “But I did ring it, and the feller that opened the door was big and solemn + and fine lookin' and had side whiskers. Only this time he wore a tail coat + with brass buttons on it. + </p> + <p> + “How do you do, Mr. Wingate?' says he. Step right in, sir, if you please. + Mr. and Mrs. Van Wedderburn are out in the auto, but they'll be back + shortly, and very glad to see you, sir, I'm sure. Let me take your grip + and hat. Step right into the reception room and wait, if you please, sir. + Perhaps,' he says, and there was a twinkle in his port eye, though the + rest of his face was sober as the front door of a church, 'perhaps,' says + he, 'you might wish to speak with my wife a moment. I'll take the liberty + of sendin' her to you, sir.' + </p> + <p> + “So, as I sat on the gunwale of a blue and gold chair, tryin' to settle + whether I was really crazy or only just dreamin', in bounces Effie, rigged + up in a servant's cap and apron. She looked polite and demure, but I could + see she was just bubblin' with the joy of the whole bus'ness. + </p> + <p> + “'Effie,' says I, 'Effie, what—what in the world—?' + </p> + <p> + “She giggled. 'Yup,' she says, 'I'm chambermaid here and they treat me + fine. Thank you very much for gettin' me the situation.' + </p> + <p> + “'But—but them doin's the other day? That automobile—and them + silks and satins—and—?' + </p> + <p> + “'Mr. Van Wedderburn lent 'em to me,' she said, 'him an' his wife. And he + lent us the auto and the shofer, too. I told him about my troubles at the + Old Home House and he thought 'twould be a great joke for me to travel + back there like a lady. He's awful fond of a joke—Mr. Van Wedderburn + is.' + </p> + <p> + “'But that man?' I gasps. 'Your husband? That's what you said he was.' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes,' says she, 'he is. We've been married 'most six months now. My + prophecy's all come true. And DIDN'T I rub it in on that Susannah Debs and + her scamp of a Sim? Ho! ho!' + </p> + <p> + “She clapped her hands and pretty nigh danced a jig, she was so tickled. + </p> + <p> + “'But is he a Butler?' I asks. + </p> + <p> + “'Yup,' she nods, with another giggle. 'He's A butler, though his name's + Jenkins; and a butler's high rank—higher than chambermaid, anyhow. + You see, Mr. Wingate,' she adds, ''twas all my fault. When that Oriental + Seer man at the show said I was to marry a butler, I forgot to ask him + whether you spelt it with a big B or a little one.'” + </p> + <p> + The unexpected manner in which Effie's pet prophecy had been fulfilled + amused Captain Sol immensely. He laughed so heartily that Issy McKay + looked in at the door with an expression of alarm on his face. The depot + master had laughed little during the past few days, and Issy was + surprised. + </p> + <p> + But Captain Stitt was ready with a denial. He claimed that the prophecy + was NOT fulfilled and therefore all fortune telling was fraudulent. + Barzilla retorted hotly, and the argument began again. The two were + shouting at each other. Captain Sol stood it for a while and then + commanded silence. + </p> + <p> + “Stop your yellin'!” he ordered. “What ails you fellers? Think you can + prove it better by screechin'? They can hear you half a mile. There's + Cornelius Rowe standin' gawpin' on the other side of the street this + minute. He thinks there's a fire or a riot, one or t'other. Let's change + the subject. See here, Bailey, didn't you start to tell us somethin' last + time you was in here about your ridin' in an automobile?” + </p> + <p> + “I started to—yes. But nobody'd listen. I rode in one and I sailed + in one. You see—” + </p> + <p> + “I'm goin' outdoor,” declared Barzilla. + </p> + <p> + “No, you're not. Bailey listened to you. Now you do as much for him. I + heard a little somethin' about the affair at the time it happened and I'd + like to hear the rest of it. How was it, Bailey?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Stitt knocked the ashes from his pipe. + </p> + <p> + “Well,” he began, “I didn't know the critter was weak in his top riggin' + or I wouldn't have gone with him in the fust place. And he wa'n't real + loony, nuther. 'Twas only when he got aboard that—that ungodly, + kerosene-smellin', tootin', buzzin', Old Harry's gocart of his that the + craziness begun to show. There's so many of them weak-minded city folks + from the Ocean House comes perusin' 'round summers, nowadays, that I + cal'lated he was just an average specimen, and never examined him close.” + </p> + <p> + “Are all the Ocean House boarders weak-minded nowadays?” asked the depot + master. + </p> + <p> + Mr. Wingate answered the question. + </p> + <p> + “My land!” he snapped; “would they board at the Ocean House if they WA'N'T + weak-minded?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Bailey did not deign to reply to this jibe. He continued calmly: + </p> + <p> + “This feller wa'n't an Ocean Houser, though. He was young Stumpton's + automobile skipper-shover, or shofer, or somethin' they called him. He + answered to the hail of Billings, and his home port was the Stumpton + ranch, 'way out in Montana. He'd been here in Orham only a couple of + weeks, havin' come plumb across the United States to fetch his boss the + new automobile. You see, 'twas early October. The Stumptons had left their + summer place on the Cliff Road, and was on their way South for the winter. + Young Stumpton was up to Boston, but he was comin' back in a couple of + days, and then him and the shover was goin' automobilin' to Florida. To + Florida, mind you! In that thing! If it was me I'd buy my ticket to Tophet + direct and save time and money. + </p> + <p> + “Well, anyhow, this critter Billings, he ain't never smelt salt water + afore, and he don't like the smell. He makes proclamations that Orham is + nothin' but sand, slush, and soft drinks. He won't sail, he can't swim, he + won't fish; but he's hankerin' to shoot somethin', havin' been brought up + in a place where if you don't shoot some of the neighbors every day or so + folks think you're stuck up and dissociable. Then somebody tells him it's + the duckin' season down to Setuckit P'int, and he says he'll spend his day + off, while the boss is away, massycreein' the coots there. This same + somebody whispers that I know so much about ducks that I quack when I + talk, and he comes cruisin' over in the buzz cart to hire me for guide. + And—would you b'lieve it?—it turns out that he's cal'latin' to + make his duckin' v'yage in that very cart. I was for makin' the trip in a + boat, like a sensible man, but he wouldn't hear of it. + </p> + <p> + “'Land of love!' says I. 'Go to Setuckit in a automobile?' + </p> + <p> + “'Why not?' he says. 'The biscuit shooter up at the hotel tells me there's + a smart chance of folks goes there a-horseback. And where a hoss can + travel I reckon the old gal here'—slappin' the thwart of the auto + alongside of him—'can go, too!' + </p> + <p> + “'But there's the Cut-through,' says I. + </p> + <p> + “''Tain't nothin' but a creek when the freshet's over, they tell me,' says + he. 'And me and the boss have forded four foot of river in this very + machine.' + </p> + <p> + “By the 'freshet' bein' over I judged he meant the tide bein' out. And the + Cut-through ain't but a little trickle then, though it's a quarter mile + wide and deep enough to float a schooner at high water. It's the strip of + channel that makes Setuckit Beach an island, you know. The gov'ment has + had engineers down dredgin' of it out, and pretty soon fish boats'll be + able to save the twenty-mile sail around the P'int and into Orham Harbor + at all hours. + </p> + <p> + “Well, to make a long story short, I agreed to let him cart me to Setuckit + P'int in that everlastin' gas carryall. We was to start at four o'clock in + the afternoon, 'cause the tide at the Cut-through would be dead low at + half-past four. We'd stay overnight at my shanty at the P'int, get up + airly, shoot all day, and come back the next afternoon. + </p> + <p> + “At four prompt he was on hand, ready for me. I loaded in the guns and + grub and one thing or 'nother, and then 'twas time for me to get aboard + myself. + </p> + <p> + “'You'll set in the tonneau,' says he, indicatin' the upholstered after + cockpit of the concern. I opened up the shiny hatch, under orders from + him, and climbed in among the upholstery. 'Twas soft as a feather bed. + </p> + <p> + “'Jerushy!' says I, lollin' back luxurious. This is fine, ain't it?' + </p> + <p> + “'Cost seventy-five hundred to build,' he says casual. 'Made to order for + the boss. Lightest car of her speed ever turned out.' + </p> + <p> + “'Go 'way! How you talk! Seventy-five hundred what? Not dollars?' + </p> + <p> + “'Sure,' he says. Then he turns round—he was in the bow, hangin' on + to the steerin' wheel—and looks me over, kind of interested, but + superior. 'Say,' he says, 'I've been hearin' things about you. You're a + hero, ain't you?' + </p> + <p> + “Durn them Orham gabblers! Ever sence I hauled that crew of seasick summer + boarders out of the drink a couple of years ago and the gov'ment gave me a + medal, the minister and some more of his gang have painted out the name I + was launched under and had me entered on the shippin' list as 'The Hero.' + I've licked two or three for callin' me that, but I can't lick a parson, + and he was the one that told Billings. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh, I don't know!' I answers pretty sharp. 'Get her under way, why don't + you?' + </p> + <p> + “All he done was look me over some more and grin. + </p> + <p> + “'A hero! A real live gov'ment-branded hero!' he says. 'Ain't scared of + nothin', I reckon—hey?' + </p> + <p> + “I never made no answer. There's some things that's too fresh to eat + without salt, and I didn't have a pickle tub handy. + </p> + <p> + “'Hum!' he says again, reverend-like. 'A sure hero; scared of nothin'! + Never rode in an auto afore, did you?' + </p> + <p> + “'No,' says I, peppery; 'and I don't see no present symptom of ridin' in + one now. Cast off, won't you?' + </p> + <p> + “He cast off. That is to say, he hauled a nickel-plated marlinespike thing + toward him, shoved another one away from him, took a twist on the steerin' + wheel, the gocart coughed like a horse with the heaves, started up some + sort of buzz-planer underneath, and then we begun to move. + </p> + <p> + “From the time we left my shanty at South Orham till we passed the pines + at Herrin' Neck I laid back in that stuffed cockpit, feelin' as grand and + tainted as old John D. himself. The automobile rolled along smooth but + swift, and it seemed to me I had never known what easy trav'lin' was + afore. As we rounded the bend by the pines and opened up the twelve-mile + narrow white stretch of Setuckit Beach ahead of us, with the ocean on one + side and the bay on t'other, I looked at my watch. We'd come that fur in + thirteen minutes. + </p> + <p> + “'Land sakes!' I says. 'This is what I call movin' right along!' + </p> + <p> + “He turned round and sized me up again, like he was surprised. + </p> + <p> + “'Movin'?' says he. 'Movin'? Why, pard, we've been settin' down to rest! + Out our way, if a lynchin' party didn't move faster than we've done so + fur, the center of attraction would die on the road of old age. Now, my + heroic college chum,' he goes on, callin' me out of my name, as usual, + 'will you be so condescendin' as to indicate how we hit the trail?' + </p> + <p> + “'Hit—hit which? Don't hit nothin', for goodness' sake! Goin' the + way we be, it would—' + </p> + <p> + “'Which way do we go?' + </p> + <p> + “'Right straight ahead. Keep on the ocean side, 'cause there's more hard + sand there, and—hold on! Don't do that! Stop it, I tell you!' + </p> + <p> + “Them was the last rememberable words said by me durin' the next quarter + of an hour. That shover man let out a hair-raisin' yell, hauled the nickel + marlinespike over in its rack, and squeezed a rubber bag that was spliced + to the steerin' wheel. There was a half dozen toots or howls or honks from + under our bows somewheres, and then that automobile hopped off the ground + and commenced to fly. The fust hop landed me on my knees in the cockpit, + and there I stayed. 'Twas the most fittin' position fur my frame of mind + and chimed in fust-rate with the general religious drift of my thoughts. + </p> + <p> + “The Cut-through is two mile or more from Herrin' Neck. 'Cordin' to my + count we hit terra cotta just three times in them two miles. The fust hit + knocked my hat off. The second one chucked me up so high I looked back for + the hat, and though we was a half mile away from it, it hadn't had time to + git to the ground. And all the while the horn was a-honkin', and Billings + was a-screechin, and the sand was a-flyin'. Sand! Why, say! Do you see + that extra bald place on the back of my head? Yes? Well, there was a + two-inch thatch of hair there afore that sand blast ground it off. + </p> + <p> + “When I went up on the third jounce I noticed the Cut-through just ahead. + Billings see it, too, and—would you b'lieve it?—the lunatic + stood up, let go of the wheel with one hand, takes off his hat and waves + it, and we charge down across them wet tide flats like death on the woolly + horse, in Scriptur'. + </p> + <p> + “'Hi, yah! Yip!' whoops Billings. 'Come on in, fellers! The water's fine! + Yow! Y-e-e-e! Yip!' + </p> + <p> + “For a second it left off rainin' sand, and there was a typhoon of mud and + spray. I see a million of the prettiest rainbows—that is, I + cal'lated there was a million; it's awful hard to count when you're + bouncin' and prayin' and drowndin' all to once. Then we sizzed out of the + channel, over the flats on t'other side, and on toward Setuckit. + </p> + <p> + “Never mind the rest of the ride. 'Twas all a sort of constant changin' + sameness. I remember passin' a blurred life-savin' station, with three—or + maybe thirty—blurred men jumpin' and laughin' and hollerin'. I found + out afterwards that they'd been on the lookout for the bombshell for half + an hour. Billings had told around town what he was goin' to do to me, and + some kind friend had telephoned it to the station. So the life-savers was + full of anticipations. I hope they were satisfied. I hadn't rehearsed my + part of the show none, but I feel what the parson calls a consciousness of + havin' done my best. + </p> + <p> + “'Whoa, gal!' says Billings, calm and easy, puttin' the helm hard down. + The auto was standin' still at last. Part of me was hangin' over the lee + rail. I could see out of the part, so I knew 'twas my head. And there + alongside was my fish shanty at the P'int, goin' round and round in + circles. + </p> + <p> + “I undid the hatch of the cockpit and fell out on the sand. Then I + scrambled up and caught hold of the shanty as it went past me. That fool + shover watched me, seemin'ly interested. + </p> + <p> + “'Why, pard,' says he, 'what's the matter? Do you feel pale? Are you + nervous? It ain't possible that you're scared? Honest, now, pard, if it + weren't that I knew you were a genuine gold-mounted hero I'd sure think + you was a scared man.' + </p> + <p> + “I never said nothin'. The scenery and me was just turnin' the mark buoy + on our fourth lap. + </p> + <p> + “'Dear me, pard!' continues Billings. 'I sure hope I ain't scared you + none. We come down a little slow this evenin', but to-morrow night, when I + take you back home, I'll let the old girl out a little.' + </p> + <p> + “I sensed some of that. And as the shanty had about come to anchor, I + answered and spoke my mind. + </p> + <p> + “'When you take me back home!' I says. 'When you do! Why, you + crack-brained, murderin' lunatic, I wouldn't cruise in that hell wagon of + yours again for the skipper's wages on a Cunarder. No, nor the mate's hove + in!' + </p> + <p> + “And that shover he put his head back and laughed and laughed and + laughed.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0016" id="link2HCH0016"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVI + </h2> + <h3> + THE CRUISE OF THE RED CAR + </h3> + <p> + “I don't wonder he laughed,” observed Wingate, who seemed to enjoy + irritating his friend. “You must have been good as a circus.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted the depot master. “If I remember right you said YOU + wa'n't any ten-cent side show under similar circumstances, Barzilla. Heave + ahead, Bailey!” + </p> + <p> + Captain Stitt, unruffled, resumed: + </p> + <p> + “I tell you, I had to take it that evenin',” he said. “All the time I was + cookin' and while he was eatin' supper, Billings was rubbin' it into me + about my bein' scared. Called me all the saltwater-hero names he could + think of—'Hobson' and 'Dewey' and the like of that, usin' em + sarcastic, of course. Finally, he said he remembered readin' in school, + when he was little, about a girl hero, name of Grace Darlin'. Said he + cal'lated, if I didn't mind, he'd call me Grace, 'cause it was heroic and + yet kind of fitted in with my partic'lar brand of bravery. I didn't answer + much; he had me down, and I knew it. Likewise I judged he was more or less + out of his head; no sane man would yell the way he done aboard that + automobile. + </p> + <p> + “Then he commenced to spin yarns about himself and his doin's, and pretty + soon it come out that he'd been a cowboy afore young Stumpton give up + ranchin' and took to automobilin'. That cleared the sky line some, of + course; I'd read consider'ble about cowboys in the ten-cent books my + nephew fetched home when he was away to school. I see right off that + Billings was the livin' image of Deadwood Dick and Wild Bill and the rest + in them books; they yelled and howled and hadn't no regard for life and + property any more'n he had. No, sir! He wa'n't no crazier'n they was; it + was in the breed, I judged. + </p> + <p> + “'I sure wish I had you on the ranch, Grace,' says he. 'Why don't you come + West some day? That's where a hero like you would show up strong.' + </p> + <p> + “'Godfrey mighty!' I sings out. 'I wouldn't come nigh such a nest of crazy + murderers as that fur no money! I'd sooner ride in that automobile of + yours, and St. Peter himself couldn't coax me into THAT again, not if + 'twas fur a cruise plumb up the middle of the golden street!' + </p> + <p> + “I meant it, too, and the next afternoon when it come time to start for + home he found out that I meant it. We'd shot a lot of ducks, and Billings + was havin' such a good time that I had to coax and tease him as if he was + a young one afore he'd think of quittin'. It was quarter of six when he + backed the gas cart out of the shed. I was uneasy, 'cause 'twas past + low-water time, and there was fog comin' on. + </p> + <p> + “'Brace up, Dewey!' says he. 'Get in.' + </p> + <p> + “'No, Mr. Billings,' says I. 'I ain't goin' to get in. You take that craft + of yourn home, and I'll sail up alongside in my dory.' + </p> + <p> + “'In your which?' says he. + </p> + <p> + “'In my dory,' I says. 'That's her hauled up on the beach abreast the + shanty.' + </p> + <p> + “He looked at the dory and then at me. + </p> + <p> + “'Go on!' says he. 'You ain't goin' to pack yourself twelve mile on THAT + SHINGLE?' + </p> + <p> + “'Sartin I am! says I. 'I ain't takin' no more chances.' + </p> + <p> + “Do you know, he actually seemed to think I was crazy then. Seemed to + figger that the dory wa'n't big enough; and she's carried five easy afore + now. We had an argument that lasted twenty minutes more, and the fog + driftin' in nigher all the time. At last he got sick of arguin', ripped + out somethin' brisk and personal, and got his tin shop to movin'. + </p> + <p> + “'You want to cross over to the ocean side,' I called after him. 'The + Cut-through's been dredged at the bay end, remember.' + </p> + <p> + “'Be hanged!' he yells, or more emphatic. And off he whizzed. I see him + go, and fetched a long breath. Thanks to a merciful Providence, I'd come + so fur without bein' buttered on the undercrust of that automobile or + scalped with its crazy shover's bowie knife. + </p> + <p> + “Ten minutes later I was beatin' out into the bay in my dory. All around + was the fog, thin as poorhouse gruel so fur, but thickenin' every minute. + I was worried; not for myself, you understand, but for that cowboy shover. + I was afraid he wouldn't fetch t'other side of the Cut-through. There + wa'n't much wind, and I had to make long tacks. I took the inshore + channel, and kept listenin' all the time. And at last, when 'twas pretty + dark and I was cal'latin' to be about abreast of the bay end of the + Cut-through, I heard from somewheres ashore a dismal honkin' kind of + noise, same as a wild goose might make if 'twas chokin' to death and not + resigned to the worst. + </p> + <p> + “'My land!' says I. 'It's happened!' And I come about and headed straight + in for the beach. I struck it just alongside the gov'ment shanty. The + engineers had knocked off work for the week, waitin' for supplies, but + they hadn't took away their dunnage. + </p> + <p> + “'Hi!' I yells, as I hauled up the dory. 'Hi-i-i! Billings, where be you?' + </p> + <p> + “The honkin' stopped and back comes the answer; there was joy in it. + </p> + <p> + “'What? Is that Cap'n Stitt?' + </p> + <p> + “'Yes,' I sings out. 'Where be you?' + </p> + <p> + “'I'm stuck out here in the middle of the crick. And there's a flood on. + Help me, can't you?' + </p> + <p> + “Next minute I was aboard the dory, rowin' her against the tide up the + channel. Pretty quick I got where I could see him through the fog and + dark. The auto was on the flat in the middle of the Cut-through, and the + water was hub high already. Billings was standin' up on the for'ard + thwart, makin' wet footmarks all over them expensive cushions. + </p> + <p> + “'Lord,' says he, 'I sure am glad to see you, pard! Can we get to land, do + you think?' + </p> + <p> + “'Land?' says I, makin' the dory fast alongside and hoppin' out into the + drink. ''Course we can land! What's the matter with your old derelict? + Sprung a leak, has it?' + </p> + <p> + “He went on to explain that the automobile had broke down when he struck + the flat, and he couldn't get no farther. He'd been honkin' and howlin' + for ten year at least, so he reckoned. + </p> + <p> + “'Why in time,' says I, 'didn't you mind me and go up the ocean side? And + why in nation didn't you go ashore and—But never mind that now. Let + me think. Here! You set where you be.' + </p> + <p> + “As I shoved off in the dory again he turned loose a distress signal. + </p> + <p> + “'Where you goin'?' he yells. 'Say, pard, you ain't goin' to leave me + here, are you?' + </p> + <p> + “'I'll be back in a shake,' says I, layin' to my oars. 'Don't holler so! + You'll have the life-savers down here, and then the joke'll be on us. + Hush, can't you? I'll be right back!' + </p> + <p> + “I rowed up channel a little ways, and then I sighted the place I was + bound for. Them gov'ment folks had another shanty farther up the + Cut-through. Moored out in front of it was a couple of big floats, for + their stone sloops to tie up to at high water. The floats were made of + empty kerosene barrels and planks, and they'd have held up a house easy. I + run alongside the fust one, cut the anchor cable with my jackknife, and + next minute I was navigatin' that float down channel, steerin' it with my + oar and towin' the dory astern. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas no slouch of a job, pilotin' that big float, but part by steerin' + and part by polin' I managed to land her broadside on to the auto. I made + her fast with the cable ends and went back after the other float. This one + was a bigger job than the fust, but by and by that gas wagon, with planks + under her and cable lashin's holdin' her firm, was restin' easy as a + settin' hen between them two floats. I unshipped my mast, fetched it + aboard the nighest float, and spread the sail over the biggest part of the + brasswork and upholstery. + </p> + <p> + “'There,' says I, 'if it rains durin' the night she'll keep pretty dry. + Now I'll take the dory and row back to the shanty after some spare anchors + there is there.' + </p> + <p> + “'But what's it fur, pard?' asks Billings for the nine hundred and + ninety-ninth time. 'Why don't we go where it's dry? The flood's risin' all + the time.' + </p> + <p> + “'Let it rise,' I says. 'I cal'late when it gets high enough them + floats'll rise with it and lift the automobile up, too. If she's anchored + bow and stern she'll hold, unless it comes on to blow a gale, and + to-morrow mornin' at low tide maybe you can tinker her up so she'll go.' + </p> + <p> + “'Go?' says he, like he was astonished. 'Do you mean to say you're + reckonin' to save the CAR?' + </p> + <p> + “'Good land!' I says, starin' at him. 'What else d'you s'pose? Think I'd + let seventy-five hundred dollars' wuth of gilt-edged extravagance go to + the bottom? What did you cal'late I was tryin' to save—the clam + flat? Give me that dory rope; I'm goin' after them anchors. Sufferin' + snakes! Where IS the dory? What have you done with it?' + </p> + <p> + “He'd been holdin' the bight of the dory rodin'. I handed it to him so's + he'd have somethin' to take up his mind. And, by time, he'd forgot all + about it and let it drop! And the dory had gone adrift and was out of + sight. + </p> + <p> + “'Gosh!' says he, astonished-like. 'Pard, the son of a gun has slipped his + halter!' + </p> + <p> + “I was pretty mad—dories don't grow on every beach plum bush—but + there wa'n't nothin' to say that fitted the case, so I didn't try. + </p> + <p> + “'Humph!' says I. 'Well, I'll have to swim ashore, that's all, and go up + to the station inlet after another boat. You stand by the ship. If she + gets afloat afore I come back you honk and holler and I'll row after you. + I'll fetch the anchors and we'll moor her wherever she happens to be. If + she shouldn't float on an even keel, or goes to capsize, you jump + overboard and swim ashore. I'll—' + </p> + <p> + “'Swim?' says he, with a shake in his voice. 'Why, pard, I can't swim!' + </p> + <p> + “I turned and looked at him. Shover of a two-mile-a-minute gold-plated + butcher cart like that, a cowboy murderer that et his friends for + breakfast—and couldn't swim! I fetched a kind of combination groan + and sigh, turned back the sail, climbed aboard the automobile, and lit up + my pipe. + </p> + <p> + “'What are you settin' there for?' says he. 'What are you goin' to do?' + </p> + <p> + “'Do?' says I. 'Wait, that's all—wait and smoke. We won't have to + wait long.' + </p> + <p> + “My prophesyin' was good. We didn't have to wait very long. It was pitch + dark, foggy as ever, and the tide a-risin' fast. The floats got to be + a-wash. I shinned out onto 'em, picked up the oar that had been left + there, and took my seat again. Billings climbed in, too, only—and it + kind of shows the change sence the previous evenin'—he was in the + passenger cockpit astern, and I was for'ard in the pilot house. For a + reckless daredevil he was actin' mighty fidgety. + </p> + <p> + “And at last one of the floats swung off the sand. The automobile tipped + scandalous. It looked as if we was goin' on our beam ends. Billings let + out an awful yell. Then t'other float bobbed up and the whole shebang, car + and all, drifted out and down the channel. + </p> + <p> + “My lashin's held—I cal'lated they would. Soon's I was sure of that + I grabbed up the oar and shoved it over the stern between the floats. I + hoped I could round her to after we passed the mouth of the Cut-through, + and make port on the inside beach. But not in that tide. Inside of five + minutes I see 'twas no use; we was bound across the bay. + </p> + <p> + “And now commenced a v'yage that beat any ever took sence Noah's time, I + cal'late; and even Noah never went to sea in an automobile, though the one + animal I had along was as much trouble as his whole menagerie. Billings + was howlin' blue murder. + </p> + <p> + “'Stop that bellerin'!' I ordered. 'Quit it, d'you hear! You'll have the + station crew out after us, and they'll guy me till I can't rest. Shut up! + If you don't, I'll—I'll swim ashore and leave you.' + </p> + <p> + “I was takin' big chances, as I look at it now. He might have drawed a + bowie knife or a lasso on me; 'cordin' to his yarns he'd butchered folks + for a good sight less'n that. But he kept quiet this time, only gurglin' + some when the ark tilted. I had time to think of another idee. You + remember the dory sail, mast and all, was alongside that cart. I clewed up + the canvas well as I could and managed to lash the mast up straight over + the auto's bows. Then I shook out the sail. + </p> + <p> + “'Here!' says I, turnin' to Billings. 'You hang on to that sheet. No, you + needn't nuther. Make it fast to that cleat alongside.' + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't see his face plain, but his voice had a funny tremble to it; + reminded me of my own when I climbed out of that very cart after he'd + jounced me down to Setuckit the day before. + </p> + <p> + “'What?' he says. 'Wh-what? What sheet? I don't see any sheet. What do you + want me to do?' + </p> + <p> + “'Tie this line to that cleat. That cleat there! CLEAT, you lubber! CLEAT! + That knob! MAKE IT FAST! Oh, my gosh t'mighty! Get out of my way!' + </p> + <p> + “The critter had tied the sheet to the handle of the door instead of the + one I meant, and the pull of the sail hauled the door open and pretty nigh + ripped it off the hinges. I had to climb into the cockpit and straighten + out the mess. I was losin' my temper; I do hate bunglin' seamanship aboard + a craft of mine. + </p> + <p> + “'But what'll become of us?' begs Billings. 'Will we drown?' + </p> + <p> + “'What in tunket do we want to drown for? Ain't we got a good sailin' + breeze and the whole bay to stay on top of—fifty foot of water and + more?' + </p> + <p> + “'Fifty foot!' he yells. 'Is there fifty foot of water underneath us now? + Pard, you don't mean it!' + </p> + <p> + “'Course I mean it. Good thing, too!' + </p> + <p> + “'But fifty foot! It's enough to drown in ten times over!' + </p> + <p> + “'Can't drown but once, can you? And I'd just as soon drown in fifty foot + as four—ruther, 'cause 'twouldn't take so long.' + </p> + <p> + “He didn't answer out loud; but I heard him talkin' to himself pretty + constant. + </p> + <p> + “We was well out in the bay by now, and the seas was a little mite more + rugged—nothin' to hurt, you understand, but the floats was all foam, + and once in a while we'd ship a little spray. And every time that happened + Billings would jump and grab for somethin' solid—sometimes 'twas the + upholstery and sometimes 'twas me. He wa'n't on the thwart, but down in a + heap on the cockpit floor. + </p> + <p> + “'Let go of my leg!' I sings out, after we'd hit a high wave and that + shover had made a more'n ordinary savage claw at my underpinnin'. 'You + make me nervous. Drat this everlastin' fog! somethin'll bump into us if we + don't look out. Here, you go for'ard and light them cruisin' lights. They + ain't colored 'cordin' to regulations, but they'll have to do. Go for'ard! + What you waitin' for?' + </p> + <p> + “Well, it turned out that he didn't like to leave that cockpit. I was mad. + </p> + <p> + “'Go for'ard there and light them lights!' I yelled, hangin' to the + steerin' oar and keepin' the ark runnin' afore the wind. + </p> + <p> + “'I won't!' he says, loud and emphatic. 'Think I'm a blame fool? I sure + would be a jack rabbit to climb over them seats the way they're buckin' + and light them lamps. You're talkin' through your hat!' + </p> + <p> + “Well, I hadn't no business to do it, but, you see, I was on salt water, + and skipper, as you might say, of the junk we was afloat in; and if + there's one thing I never would stand it's mutiny. I hauled in the oar, + jumped over the cockpit rail, and went for him. He see me comin', stood + up, tried to get out of the way, and fell overboard backwards. Part of him + lit on one of the floats, but the biggest part trailed in the water + between the two. He clawed with his hands, but the planks was slippery, + and he slid astern fast. Just as he reached the last plank and slid off + and under I jumped after him and got him by the scruff of the neck. I had + hold of the lashin' end with one hand, and we tailed out behind the ark, + which was sloppin' along, graceful as an elephant on skates. + </p> + <p> + “I was pretty well beat out when I yanked him into that cockpit again. + Neither of us said anything for a spell, breath bein' scurce as di'monds. + But when he'd collected some of his, he spoke. + </p> + <p> + “'Pard,' he says, puffin', 'I'm much obleeged to you. I reckon I sure + ain't treated you right. If it hadn't been for you that time I'd—' + </p> + <p> + “But I was b'ilin' over. I whirled on him like a teetotum. + </p> + <p> + “'Drat your hide!' I says. 'When you speak to your officer you say sir! + And now you go for'ard and light them lights. Don't you answer back! If + you do I'll fix you so's you'll never ship aboard another vessel! For'ard + there! Lively, you lubber, lively!' + </p> + <p> + “He went for'ard, takin' consider'ble time and hangin' on for dear life. + But somehow or 'nuther he got the lights to goin'; and all the time I + hazed him terrible. I was mate on an Australian packet afore I went + fishin' to the Banks, and I can haze some. I blackguarded that shover + awful. + </p> + <p> + “'Ripperty-rip your everlastin' blankety-blanked dough head!' I roared at + him. 'You ain't wuth the weight to sink you. For'ard there and get that + fog horn to goin'! And keep it goin'! Lively, you sculpin! Don't you open + your mouth to me!' + </p> + <p> + “Well, all night we sloshed along, straight acrost the bay. We must have + been a curious sight to look at. The floats was awash, so that the + automobile looked like she was ridin' the waves all by her lonesome; the + lamps was blazin' at either side of the bow; Billings was a-tootin' the + rubber fog horn as if he was wound up; and I was standin' on the cushions + amidships, keepin' the whole calabash afore the wind. + </p> + <p> + “We never met another craft the whole night through. Yes, we did meet one. + Old Ezra Cahoon, of Harniss, was out in his dory stealin' quahaugs from + Seth Andrews's bed over nigh the Wapatomac shore. Ezra stayed long enough + to get one good glimpse of us as we bust through the fog; then he cut his + rodin' and laid to his oars, bound for home and mother. We could hear him + screech for half an hour after he left us. + </p> + <p> + “Ez told next day that the devil had come ridin' acrost the bay after him + in a chariot of fire. Said he could smell the brimstone and hear the + trumpet callin' him to judgment. Likewise he hove in a lot of particulars + concernin' the personal appearance of the Old Boy himself, who, he said, + was standin' up wavin' a red-hot pitchfork. Some folks might have been + flattered at bein' took for such a famous character; but I wa'n't; I'm + retirin' by nature, and besides, Ez's description wa'n't cal'lated to bust + a body's vanity b'iler. I was prouder of the consequences, the same bein' + that Ezra signed the Good Templars' pledge that afternoon, and kept it for + three whole months, just sixty-nine days longer than any previous attack + within the memory of man had lasted. + </p> + <p> + “And finally, just as mornin' was breakin', the bows of the floats slid + easy and slick up on a hard, sandy beach. Then the sun riz and the fog + lifted, and there we was within sight of the South Ostable meetin'-house. + We'd sailed eighteen miles in that ark and made a better landin' blindfold + than we ever could have made on purpose. + </p> + <p> + “I hauled down the sail, unshipped the mast, and jumped ashore to find a + rock big enough to use for a makeshift anchor. It wa'n't more'n three + minutes after we fust struck afore my boots hit dry ground, but Billings + beat me one hundred and seventy seconds, at that. When I had time to look + at that shover man he was a cable's length from high-tide mark, settin' + down and grippin' a bunch of beach grass as if he was afeard the sand was + goin' to slide from under him; and you never seen a yallerer, more upset + critter in your born days. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I got the ark anchored, after a fashion, and then we walked up to + the South Ostable tavern. Peleg Small, who runs the place, he knows me, so + he let me have a room and I turned in for a nap. I slept about three + hours. When I woke up I started out to hunt the automobile and Billings. + Both of 'em looked consider'ble better than they had when I see 'em last. + The shover had got a gang of men and they'd got the gas cart ashore, and + Billings and a blacksmith was workin' over—or rather under—the + clockwork. + </p> + <p> + “'Hello!' I hails, comin' alongside. + </p> + <p> + “Billings sticks his head out from under the tinware. + </p> + <p> + “'Hi, pard!' says he. I noticed he hadn't called me 'Grace' nor 'Dewey' + for a long spell. Hi, pard,' he says, gettin' to his feet, 'the old gal + ain't hurt a hair. She'll be good as ever in a couple of hours. Then you + and me can start for Orham.' + </p> + <p> + “'In HER?' says I. + </p> + <p> + “'Sure,' he says. + </p> + <p> + “'Not by a jugful!' says I, emphatic. 'I'll borrer a boat to get to Orham + in, when I'm ready to go. You won't ketch me in that man killer again; and + you can call me a coward all you want to!' + </p> + <p> + “'A coward?' says he. 'You a coward? And—Why, you was in that car + all night!' + </p> + <p> + “'Oh!' I says. 'Last night was diff'rent. The thing was on water then, and + when I've got enough water underneath me I know I'm safe.' + </p> + <p> + “'Safe!' he sings out. 'SAFE! Well, by—gosh! Pard, I hate to say it, + but it's the Lord's truth—you had me doin' my “Now I lay me's”!' + </p> + <p> + “For a minute we looked at each other. Then says I, sort of thinkin' out + loud, 'I cal'late,' I says, 'that whether a man's brave or not depends + consider'ble on whether he's used to his latitude. It's all accordin'. It + lays in the bringin' up, as the duck said when the hen tried to swim.' + </p> + <p> + “He nodded solemn. 'Pard,' says he, 'I sure reckon you've called the turn. + Let's shake hands on it.' + </p> + <p> + “So we shook; and . . .” + </p> + <p> + Captain Bailey stopped short and sprang from his chair. “There's my train + comin',” he shouted. “Good-by, Sol! So long, Barzilla! Keep away from + fortune tellers and pretty servant girls or YOU'LL be gettin' married + pretty soon. Good-by.” + </p> + <p> + He darted out of the waiting room and his companions followed. Mr. + Wingate, having a few final calls to make, left the station soon + afterwards and did not return until evening. And that evening he heard + news which surprised him. + </p> + <p> + As he and Captain Sol were exchanging a last handshake on the platform, + Barzilla said: + </p> + <p> + “Well, Sol, I've enjoyed loafin' around here and yarnin' with you, same as + I always do. I'll be over again in a month or so and we'll have some + more.” + </p> + <p> + The Captain shook his head. “I may not be here then, Barzilla,” he + observed. + </p> + <p> + “May not be here? What do you mean by that?” + </p> + <p> + “I mean that I don't know exactly where I shall be. I shan't be depot + master, anyway.” + </p> + <p> + “Shan't be depot master? YOU won't? Why, what on airth—” + </p> + <p> + “I sent in my resignation four days ago. Nobody knows it, except you, not + even Issy, but the new depot master for East Harniss will be here to take + my place on the mornin' of the twelfth, that's two days off.” + </p> + <p> + “Why! Why! SOL!” + </p> + <p> + “Yes. Keep mum about it. I'll—I'll let you know what I decide to do. + I ain't settled it myself yet. Good-by, Barzilla.” + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0017" id="link2HCH0017"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVII + </h2> + <h3> + ISSY'S REVENGE + </h3> + <p> + The following morning, at nine o'clock, Issy McKay sat upon the heap of + rusty chain cable outside the blacksmith's shop at Denboro, reading, as + usual, a love story. Issy was taking a “day off.” He had begged permission + of Captain Sol Berry, the permission had been granted, and Issy had come + over to Denboro, the village eight miles above East Harniss, in his “power + dory,” or gasoline boat, the Lady May. The Lady May was a relic of the + time before Issy was assistant depot master, when he gained a precarious + living by quahauging, separating the reluctant bivalve from its muddy + house on the bay bottom with an iron rake, the handle of which was forty + feet long. Issy had been seized with a desire to try quahauging once more, + hence his holiday. The rake was broken and he had put in at Denboro to + have it fixed. While the blacksmith was busy, Issy laboriously spelled out + the harrowing chapters of “Vivian, the Shop Girl; or Lord Lyndhurst's + Lowly Love.” + </p> + <p> + A grinning, freckled face peered cautiously around the corner of the + blacksmith's front fence. Then an overripe potato whizzed through the air + and burst against the shop wall a few inches from the reader's head. Issy + jumped. + </p> + <p> + “You—you everlastin' young ones, you!” he shouted fiercely. “If I + git my hands onto you, you'll wish you'd—I see you hidin' behind + that fence.” + </p> + <p> + Two barefooted little figures danced provokingly in the roadway and two + shrill voices chanted in derision: + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + “Is McKay—Is McKay— + Makes the Injuns run away! +</pre> + <p> + “Scalped anybody lately, Issy?” + </p> + <p> + Alas for the indiscretions of youth! The tale of Issy's early expedition + in search of scalps and glory was known from one end of Ostable County to + the other. It had made him famous, in a way. + </p> + <p> + “If I git a-holt of you kids, I'll bet there'll be some scalpin' done,” + retorted the persecuted one, rising from the heap of cable. + </p> + <p> + A second potato burst like a bombshell on the shingles behind him. McKay + was a good general, in that he knew when it was wisest to retreat. Shoving + the paper novel into his overalls pocket, he entered the shop. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter, Is?” inquired the grinning blacksmith. Most people + grinned when they spoke to Issy. “Gittin' too hot outside there, was it? + Why don't you tomahawk 'em and have 'em for supper?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph!” grunted the offended quahauger. “Don't git gay now, Jake Larkin. + You hurry up with that rake.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, all right, Is. Don't sculp ME; I ain't done nothin'. What's the news + over to East Harniss?” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, I don't know. Not much. Sam Bartlett, he started for Boston this + mornin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Who? Sam Bartlett? I want to know! Thought he was down for six weeks. You + sure about that, Is?” + </p> + <p> + “Course I'm sure. I was up to the depot and see him buy his ticket and git + on the cars.” + </p> + <p> + “Did, hey? Humph! So Sam's gone. Gertie Higgins still over to her Aunt + Hannah's at Trumet?” + </p> + <p> + Issy looked at his questioner. “Why, yes,” he said suspiciously. “I s'pose + she's there. Fact, I know she is. Pat Starkey's doin' the telegraphin' + while she's away. What made you ask that?” + </p> + <p> + The blacksmith chuckled. “Oh, nothin',” he said. “How's her dad's + dyspepsy? Had any more of them sudden attacks of his? I cal'late they'll + take the old man off some of these days, won't they? I hear the doctor + thinks there's more heart than stomach in them attacks.” + </p> + <p> + But the skipper of the Lady May was not to be put off thus. “What you + drivin' at, Jake?” he demanded. “What's Sam Bartlett's goin' away got to + do with Gertie Higgins?” + </p> + <p> + In his eagerness he stepped to Mr. Larkin's side. The blacksmith caught + sight of the novel in his customer's pocket. He snatched it forth. + </p> + <p> + “What you readin' now, Is?” he demanded. “More blood and brimstone? 'Vivy + Ann, the Shop Girl!' Gee! Wow!” + </p> + <p> + “You gimme that book, Jake Larkin! Gimme it now!” + </p> + <p> + Fending the frantic quahauger off with one mighty arm, the blacksmith + proceeded to read aloud: + </p> + <p> + “'Darlin',' cried Lord Lyndhurst, strainin' the beautiful and blushin' + maid to his manly bosom, 'you are mine at last. Mine! No—' Jerushy! + a love story! Why, Issy! I didn't know you was in love. Who's the lucky + girl? Send me an invite to your weddin', won't you?” + </p> + <p> + Issy's face was a fiery red. He tore the precious volume from its + desecrator's hand, losing the pictured cover in the struggle. + </p> + <p> + “You—you pesky fool!” he shouted. “You mind your own business.” + </p> + <p> + The blacksmith roared in glee. “Oh, ho!” he cried. “Issy's in love and I + never guessed it. Aw, say, Is, don't be mean! Who is she? Have you + strained her to your manly bosom yit? What's her name?” + </p> + <p> + “Shut up!” shrieked Issy, and strode out of the shop. His tormentor begged + him not to “go off mad,” and shouted sarcastic sympathy after him. But Mr. + McKay heeded not. He stalked angrily along the sidewalk. Then espying just + ahead of him the boys who had thrown the potatoes, he paused, turned, and + walking down the carriageway at the side of the blacksmith's place of + business, sat down upon a sawhorse under one of its rear windows. He + could, at least, be alone here and think; and he wanted to think. + </p> + <p> + For Issy—although he didn't look it—was deeply interested in + another love story as well as that in his pocket. This one was printed + upon his heart's pages, and in it he was the hero, while the heroine—the + unsuspecting heroine—was Gertie Higgins, daughter of Beriah Higgins, + once a fisherman, now the crotchety and dyspeptic proprietor of the + “general store” and postmaster at East Harniss. + </p> + <p> + This story began when Issy first acquired the Lady May. The Higgins home + stood on the slope close to the boat landing, and when Issy came in from + quahauging, Gertie was likely to be in the back yard, hanging out the + clothes or watering the flower garden. Sometimes she spoke to him of her + own accord, concerning the weather or other important topics. Once she + even asked him if he were going to the Fourth of July ball at the + town-hall. It took him until the next morning—like other warriors, + Issy was cursed with shyness—to summon courage enough to ask her to + go to the ball with him. Then he found it was too late; she was going with + her cousin, Lennie Bloomer. But he felt that she had offered him the + opportunity, and was happy and hopeful accordingly. + </p> + <p> + This, however, was before she went to Boston to study telegraphy. When she + returned, with a picture hat and a Boston accent, it was to preside at the + telegraph instrument in the little room adjoining the post office at her + father's store. When Issy bowed blushingly outside the window of the + telegraph room, he received only the airiest of frigid nods. Was there + what Lord Lyndhurst would have called “another”? It would seem not. Old + Mr. Higgins, her father, encouraged no bows nor attentions from young men, + and Gertie herself did not appear to desire them. So Issy gave up his + tales of savage butchery for those of love and blisses, adored in silence, + and hoped—always hoped. + </p> + <p> + But why had the blacksmith seemed surprised at the departure of Sam + Bartlett, the “dudey” vacationist from the city, whose father had, years + ago, been Beriah Higgins's partner in the fish business? And why had he + coupled the Bartlett name with that of Gertie, who had been visiting her + father's maiden sister at Trumet, the village next below East Harniss, as + Denboro is the next above it? Issy's suspicions were aroused, and he + wondered. + </p> + <p> + Suddenly he heard voices in the shop above him. The window was open and he + heard them plainly. + </p> + <p> + “Well! WELL!” It was the blacksmith who uttered the exclamation. “Why, + Bartlett, how be you? What you doin' over here? Thought you'd gone back to + Boston. I heard you had.” + </p> + <p> + Slowly, cautiously, the astonished quahauger rose from the sawhorse and + peered over the window sill. There were two visitors in the shop. One was + Ed Burns, proprietor of the Denboro Hotel and livery stable. The other was + Sam Bartlett, the very same who had left East Harniss that morning, bound, + ostensibly, for Boston. Issy sank back again and listened. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes!” he heard Sam say impatiently; “I know, but—see here, + Jake, where can I hire a horse in this God-forsaken town?” + </p> + <p> + “Well, well, Sam!” continued Larkin. “I was just figurin' that Beriah had + got the best of you after all, and you'd had to give it up for this time. + Thinks I, it's too bad! Just because your dad and Beriah Higgins had such + a deuce of a row when they bust up in the fish trade, it's a shame that he + won't hark to your keepin' comp'ny with Gertie. And you doin' so well; + makin' twenty dollars a week up to the city—Ed told me that—and—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes! But never mind that. Where can I get a horse? I've got to be in + Trumet by eight to-night sure.” + </p> + <p> + “Trumet? Why, that's where Gertie is, ain't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Look a-here, Jake,” broke in the livery-stable keeper. “I'll tell you how + 'tis. Oh, it's all right, Sam! Jake knows the most of it; I told him. He + can keep his mouth shut, and he don't like old crank Higgins any better'n + you and me do. Jake, Sam here and Gertie had fixed it up to run off and + git married to-night. He was to pretend to start for Boston this mornin'. + Bought a ticket and all, so's to throw Beriah off the scent. He was to get + off the train here at Denboro and I was to let him have a horse 'n' buggy. + Then, this afternoon, he was goin' to drive through the wood roads around + to Trumet and be at the Baptist Church there at eight to-night sharp. + Gertie's Aunt Hannah, she's had her orders, and bein' as big a crank as + her brother, she don't let the girl out of her sight. But there's a fair + at the church and Auntie's tendin' a table. Gertie, she steps out to the + cloak room to git a handkerchief which she's forgot; see? And she hops + into Sam's buggy and away they go to the minister's. After they're once + hitched Old Dyspepsy can go to pot and see the kittle bile.” + </p> + <p> + “Bully! By gum, that's fine! Won't Beriah rip some, hey?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but there's the dickens to pay. I've only got two horses in the + stable to-day. The rest are let. And the two I've got—one's old + Bill, and he couldn't go twenty mile to save his hide. And t'other's the + gray mare, and blamed if she didn't git cast last night and use up her off + hind leg so's she can't step. And Sam's GOT to have a horse. Where can I + git one?” + </p> + <p> + “Hum! Have you tried Haynes's?” + </p> + <p> + “Yes, yes! And Lathrop's and Eldredge's. Can't git a team for love nor + money.” + </p> + <p> + “Sho! And he can't go by train?” + </p> + <p> + “What? With Beriah postmaster at East Harniss and always nosin' through + every train that stops there? You can't fetch Trumet by train without + stoppin' at East Harniss and—What was that?” + </p> + <p> + “I don't know. What was it?” + </p> + <p> + “Sounded like somethin' outside that back winder.” + </p> + <p> + The two ran to the window and looked out. All they saw was an overturned + sawhorse and two or three hens scratching vigorously. + </p> + <p> + “Guess 'twas the chickens, most likely,” observed the blacksmith. Then, + striking his blackened palms together, he exclaimed: + </p> + <p> + “By time! I've thought of somethin'! Is McKay is in town to-day. Come over + in the Lady May. She's a gasoline boat. Is would take Sam to Trumet for + two or three dollars, I'll bet. And he's such a fool head that he wouldn't + ask questions nor suspicion nothin'. 'Twould be faster'n a horse and + enough sight less risky.” + </p> + <p> + And just then the “fool head,” his brain whirling under its carroty + thatch, was hurrying blindly up the main street, bound somewhere, he + wasn't certain where. + </p> + <p> + A mushy apple exploded between his shoulders, but he did not even turn + around. So THIS was what the blacksmith meant! This was why Mr. Higgins + watched his daughter so closely. This was why Gertie had been sent off to + Trumet. She had met the Bartlett miscreant in Boston; they had been + together there; had fallen in love and—He gritted his teeth and + shook his fists almost in the face of old Deacon Pratt, who, knowing the + McKay penchant for slaughter, had serious thoughts of sending for the + constable. + </p> + <p> + Beriah Higgins must be warned, of course, but how? To telegraph was to put + Pat Starkey in possession of the secret, and Pat was too good a friend of + Gertie's to be trusted. There was no telephone at the store. Issy entered + the combination grocery store and post office. + </p> + <p> + “Has the down mail closed yet?” he panted. + </p> + <p> + The postmaster looked out of his little window. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” he replied. “Why? Got a letter you want to go? Take it up to the + depot. The train's due, but 'tain't here yit. If you run you can make it.” + </p> + <p> + Issy took a card from his pocket. It was the business card of the firm to + whom he sold his quahaugs. On the back of the card he wrote in pencil as + follows: + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Beriah Higgins, your daughter Gertrude is going to meet Sam'l + Bartlett at the Baptist Church in Trumet at 8 P.M. to-night and get + married to him. LOOK OUT!!!” + </p> + <p> + After an instant's consideration he signed it “A True Friend,” this being + in emulation of certain heroes of the Deadwood Dick variety. Then he put + the card into an envelope and ran at top speed to the railway station. The + train came in as he reached the platform. The baggage master was standing + in the door of his car. + </p> + <p> + “Here, mister!” panted Issy. “Jest hand this letter to Beriah Higgins when + he takes the mail bag at East Harniss, won't you? It's mighty important. + Don't forgit. Thanks.” + </p> + <p> + The train moved off. Issy stared after it, grinning malevolently. Higgins + would get that note in ample time to send word to the watchful Aunt + Hannah. When the unsuspecting eloper reached the Trumet church, it would + be the aunt, not the niece, who awaited him. Still grinning, Mr. McKay + walked off the platform, and into the arms of Ed Burns, the stable keeper, + and Sam Bartlett, his loathed and favored rival. + </p> + <p> + “Here he is!” shouted Burns. “Now we've got him.” + </p> + <p> + The foiler of the plot turned pale. Was his secret discovered? But no; his + captors began talking eagerly, and gradually the sense of their pleadings + became plain. They wanted him—HIM, of all people—to convey + Bartlett to Trumet in the Lady May. + </p> + <p> + “You see, it's a business meetin',” urged Burns. “Sam's got to be there by + ha'f past seven or he'll—he won't win on the deal, will you, Sam? + Say yes, Issy; that's a good feller. He'll give you—I don't know's + he won't give you five dollars.” + </p> + <p> + “Ten,” cried Bartlett. “And I'll never forget it, either. Will you, Is?” + </p> + <p> + A mighty “No!” was trembling on Issy's tongue. But before it was uttered + Burns spoke again. + </p> + <p> + “McKay's got the best boat in these parts,” he urged. “She's got a tiptop + engine in her, and—” + </p> + <p> + The word “engine” dropped into the whirlpool of Issy's thoughts with a + familiar sound. In the chapter of “Vivian” that he had just finished, the + beautiful shopgirl was imprisoned on board the yacht of the millionaire + kidnaper, while the hero, in his own yacht, was miles astern. But the + hero's faithful friend, disguised as a stoker, was tampering with the + villain's engine. A vague idea began to form in Issy's brain. Once get the + would-be eloper aboard the Lady May, and, even though the warning note + should remain undelivered, he— + </p> + <p> + Issy smiled, and the ghastliness of that smile was unnoticed by his + companions. + </p> + <p> + “I—I'll do it,” he cried. “By mighty! I WILL do it. You be at the + wharf here at four o'clock. I wouldn't do it for everybody, Sam Bartlett, + but for you I'd do consider'ble, just now. And I don't want your ten + dollars nuther.” + </p> + <p> + Doctoring an engine may be easy enough—in stories. But to doctor a + gasoline engine so that it will run for a certain length of time and THEN + break down is not so easy. Three o'clock came and the problem was still + unsolved. Issy, the perspiration running down his face, stood up in the + Lady May's cockpit and looked out across the bay, smooth and glassy in the + afternoon sun. + </p> + <p> + The sky overhead was clear and blue, but along the eastern and southern + horizon was a gray bank of cloud, heaped in tumbled masses. + </p> + <p> + A sunburned lobsterman in rubber boots and a sou'wester was smoking on the + wharf. + </p> + <p> + “What time you goin' to start for home, Is?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Oh, in an hour or so,” was the absent-minded reply. + </p> + <p> + “Humph! You'd better cast off afore that or you'll be fog bound. It'll be + thicker'n dock mud toward sundown, and you'll fetch up in Waptomac 'stead + of East Harniss, 'thout you've got a good compass.” + </p> + <p> + “Oh, my compass is all right,” began Issy, and stopped short. The + lobsterman made other attempts at conversation, but they were + unproductive. McKay was gazing at the growing fog bank and thinking hard. + To doctor an engine may be difficult, but to get lost in a fog—He + took the compass from the glass-lidded binnacle by the wheel, and carrying + it into the little cabin, placed it in the cuddy forward. + </p> + <p> + It was nearer five than four when the Lady May, her engine barking + aggressively, moved out of Denboro Harbor. Mr. Bartlett, the passenger, + had been on time and had fumed and fretted at the delay. But Issy was + deliberation itself. He had forgotten his quahaug rake, and the lapse of + memory entailed a trip to the blacksmith's. Then the gasoline tank needed + filling and the battery had to be overhauled. + </p> + <p> + “Are you sure you can make it?” queried Sam anxiously. “It's important, I + tell you. Mighty important.” + </p> + <p> + The skipper snorted in disgust. “Make it?” he repeated. “If the Lady May + can't make fourteen mile in two hours—let alone two'n a ha'f—then + I don't know her. She's one of them boats you read about, she is.” + </p> + <p> + The Cape makes a wide bend between Denboro and Trumet. The distance + between these towns is twenty long, curved miles over the road; by water + it is reduced to a straight fourteen. And midway between the two, at the + center of the curve, is East Harniss. + </p> + <p> + The Lady May coughed briskly on. There was no sea, and she sent long, + widening ripples from each side of her bow. Bartlett, leaning over the + rail, gazed impatiently ahead. Issy, sprawled on the bench by the wheel, + was muttering to himself. Occasionally he glanced toward the east. The + gray fog bank was now half way to the zenith and approaching rapidly. The + eastern shore had disappeared. + </p> + <p> + “Is! Hi, Is! What are you doing? Don't kill him before my eyes.” + </p> + <p> + Issy came out of his trance with a start. + </p> + <p> + “What—what's that?” he asked. His passenger was grinning broadly. + </p> + <p> + “What? Kill who?” + </p> + <p> + “Why, the big chief, or whoever you had under your knee just then. You've + been rolling your eyes and punching air with your fist for the last five + minutes. I was getting scared. You're an unmerciful sinner when you get + started, ain't you, Is? Who was the victim that time? 'Man Afraid of Hot + Water'? or who?” + </p> + <p> + The skipper scowled. He shoved the fist into his pocket. + </p> + <p> + “Naw,” he growled. “'Twa'n't.” + </p> + <p> + “So? Not an Indian? Then it must have been a white man. Some fellow after + your girl, perhaps. Hey?” + </p> + <p> + The disconcerted Issy was speechless. His companion's chance shot had + scored a bull's-eye. Sam whooped. + </p> + <p> + “That's it!” he crowed. “Sure thing! Give it to him, Is! Don't spare him.” + </p> + <p> + Mr. McKay chokingly admitted that he “wa'n't goin' to.” + </p> + <p> + “Ho, ho! That's the stuff! But who's SHE, Is? When are you going to marry + her?” + </p> + <p> + Issy grunted spitefully. “You ain't married yourself—not yit,” he + observed, with concealed sarcasm. + </p> + <p> + The unsuspecting Bartlett laughed in triumph. “No,” he said. “I'm not, + that's a fact; but maybe I'm going to be some of these days. It looked + pretty dubious for a while, but now it's all right.” + </p> + <p> + “'Tis, hey? You're sure about that, be you?” + </p> + <p> + “Guess I am. Great Scott! what's that? Fog?” + </p> + <p> + A damp breath blew across the boat. The clouds covered the sky overhead + and the bay to port. The fog was pouring like smoke across the water. + </p> + <p> + “Fog, by thunder!” exclaimed Bartlett. + </p> + <p> + Issy smiled. “Hum! Yes, 'tis fog, ain't it?” he observed. + </p> + <p> + “But what'll we do? It'll be here in a minute, won't it?” + </p> + <p> + “Shouldn't be a mite surprised. Looks 's if twas here now.” + </p> + <p> + The fog came on. It reached the Lady May, passed over her, and shut her + within gray, wet walls. It was impossible to see a length from her side. + Sam swore emphatically. The skipper was provokingly calm. He stepped to + the engine, bent over it, and then returned to the wheel. + </p> + <p> + “What are you doing?” demanded Bartlett. + </p> + <p> + “Slowin' down, of course. Can't run more'n ha'f speed in a fog like this. + 'Tain't safe.” + </p> + <p> + “Safe! What do I care? I want to get to Trumet.” + </p> + <p> + “Yes? Well, maybe we'll git there if we have luck.” + </p> + <p> + “You idiot! We've GOT to get there. How can you tell which way to steer? + Get your compass, man! get your compass!” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't got no compass,” was the sulky answer. “Left it to home.” + </p> + <p> + “Why, no, you didn't. I—” + </p> + <p> + “I tell you I did. 'Twas careless of me, I know, but—” + </p> + <p> + “But I say you didn't. When you went uptown after that quahaug rake I + explored this craft of yours some. The compass is in that little closet at + the end of the cabin. I'll get it.” + </p> + <p> + He rose to his feet. Issy sprang forward and seized him by the arm. + </p> + <p> + “Set down!” he yelled. “Who's runnin' this boat, you or me?” + </p> + <p> + The astounded passenger stared at his companion. + </p> + <p> + “Why, you are,” he replied. “But that's no reason—What's the matter + with you, anyway? Have your dime novels driven you loony?” + </p> + <p> + Issy hesitated. For a moment chagrin and rage at this sudden upset of his + schemes had gotten the better of his prudence. But Bartlett was taller + than he and broad in proportion. And valor—except of the imaginative + brand—was not Issy's strong point. + </p> + <p> + “There, there, Sam!” he explained, smiling crookedly. “You mustn't mind + me. I'm sort of nervous, I guess. And you mustn't hop up and down in a + boat that way. You set still and I'll fetch the compass.” + </p> + <p> + He stumbled across the cockpit and disappeared in the dusk of the cabin. + Finding that compass took a long time. Sam lost patience. + </p> + <p> + “What's the matter?” he demanded. “Can't you find it? Shall I come?” + </p> + <p> + “No, no!” screamed Issy vehemently. “Stay where you be. Catch a-holt of + that wheel. We'll be spinnin' circles if you don't. I'm a-comin'.” + </p> + <p> + But it was another five minutes before he emerged from the cabin, carrying + the compass box very carefully with both hands. He placed it in the + binnacle and closed the glass lid. + </p> + <p> + “'Twas catched in a bluefish line,” he explained. “All snarled up, 'twas.” + </p> + <p> + Sam peered through the glass at the compass. + </p> + <p> + “Thunder!” he exclaimed. “I should say we had spun around. Instead of + north being off here where I thought it was, it's 'way out to the right. + Queer how fog'll mix a fellow up. Trumet's about northeast, isn't it?” + </p> + <p> + “No'theast by no'th's the course. Keep her just there.” + </p> + <p> + The Lady May, still at half speed, kept on through the mist. Time passed. + The twilight, made darker still by the fog, deepened. They lit the lantern + in order to see the compass card. Issy had the wheel now. Sam was forward, + keeping a lookout and fretting at the delay. + </p> + <p> + “It's seven o'clock already,” he cried. “For Heaven's sake, how late will + you be? I've got to be there by quarter of eight. D'you hear? I've GOT + to.” + </p> + <p> + “Well, we're gittin' there. Can't expect to travel so fast with part of + the power off. You'll be where you're goin' full as soon as you want to + be, I cal'late.” + </p> + <p> + And he chuckled. + </p> + <p> + Another half hour and, through the wet dimness, a light flashed, vanished, + and flashed again. Issy saw it and smiled grimly. Bartlett saw it and + shouted. + </p> + <p> + “'What's that light?” he cried. “Did you see it? There it is, off there.” + </p> + <p> + “I see it. There's a light at Trumet Neck, ain't there?” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! It's been years since I was there, but I thought Trumet light was + steady. However—” + </p> + <p> + “Ain't that the wharf ahead?” + </p> + <p> + Sure enough, out of the dark loomed the bulk of a small wharf, with + catboats at anchor near it. Higher up, somewhere on the shore, were the + lighted windows of a building. + </p> + <p> + “By thunder, we're here!” exclaimed Sam, and drew a long breath. + </p> + <p> + Issy shut off the power altogether, and the Lady May slid easily up to the + wharf. Feverishly her skipper made her fast. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, sir!” he cried exultantly. “We're here. And no Black Rover nor + anybody else ever done a better piece of steerin' than that, nuther.” + </p> + <p> + He clambered over the stringpiece, right at the heels of his impatient but + grateful passenger. Sam's thanks were profuse and sincere. + </p> + <p> + “I'll never forget it, Is,” he declared. “I'll never forget it. And you'll + have to let me pay you the—What makes you shake so?” + </p> + <p> + Issy pulled his arm away and stepped back. + </p> + <p> + “I'll never forget it, Is,” continued Sam. “I—Why! What—?” + </p> + <p> + He was standing at the shore end of the wharf, gazing up at the lighted + windows. They were those of a dwelling house—an old-fashioned house + with a back yard sloping down to the landing. + </p> + <p> + And then Issy McKay leaned forward and spoke in his ear. + </p> + <p> + “You bet you won't forgit it, Sam Bartlett!” he crowed, in trembling but + delicious triumph. “You bet you won't! I've fixed you just the same as the + Black Rover fixed the mutineers. Run off with my girl, will ye? And marry + her, will ye? I—” + </p> + <p> + Sam interrupted him. “Why! WHY!” he cried. “That's—that's Gertie's + house! This isn't Trumet! IT'S EAST HARNISS!” + </p> + <p> + The next moment he was seized from behind. The skipper's arms were around + his waist and the skipper's thin legs twisted about his own. They fell + together upon the sand and, as they rolled and struggled, Issy's yells + rose loud and high. + </p> + <p> + “Mr. Higgins!” he shrieked. “Mr. Higgins! Come on! I've got him! I've got + the feller that's tryin' to steal your daughter! Come on! I've got him! + I'm hangin' to him!” + </p> + <p> + A door banged open. Some one rushed down the walk. And then a girl's voice + cried in alarm: + </p> + <p> + “What is it? Who is it? What IS the matter?” + </p> + <p> + And from the bundle of legs and arms on the ground two voices exclaimed: + “GERTIE!” + </p> + <p> + “But where IS your father?” asked Sam. Issy asked nothing. He merely sat + still and listened. + </p> + <p> + “Why, he's at Trumet. At least I suppose he is. Mrs. Jones—she's + gone to telephone to him now—says that he came home this morning + with one of those dreadful 'attacks' of his. And after dinner he seemed so + sick that, when she went for the doctor, she wired me at Auntie's to come + home. I didn't want to come—you know why—but I COULDN'T let + him die alone. And so I caught the three o'clock train and came. I knew + you'd forgive me. But it seems that when Mrs. Jones came back with the + doctor they found father up and dressed and storming like a crazy man. He + had received some sort of a letter; he wouldn't say what. And, in spite of + all they could do, he insisted on going out. And Cap'n Berry—the + depot master—says he went to Trumet on the afternoon freight. We + must have passed each other on the way. And I'm so—But why are you + HERE? And what were you and Issy doing? And—” + </p> + <p> + Her lover broke in eagerly. “Then you're alone now?” he asked. + </p> + <p> + “Yes, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Good! Your father can't get a train back from Trumet before to-morrow + morning. I don't know what this letter was—but never mind. Perhaps + friend McKay knows more about it. It may be that Mr. Higgins is waiting + now outside the Baptist church. Gertie, now's our chance. You come with me + right up to the minister's. He's a friend of mine. He understands. He'll + marry us, I know. Come! We mustn't lose a minute. Your dad may take a + notion to drive back.” + </p> + <p> + He led her off up the lane, she protesting, he urging. At the corner of + the house he turned. + </p> + <p> + “I say, Is!” he called. “Don't you want to come to the wedding? Seems to + me we owe you that, considering all you've done to help it along. Or + perhaps you want to stay and fix that compass of yours.” + </p> + <p> + Issy didn't answer. Some time after they had gone he arose from the ground + and stumbled home. That night he put a paper novel into the stove. Next + morning, before going to the depot, he removed an iron spike from the Lady + May's compass box. The needle swung back to its proper position. + </p> + <p> + <a name="link2HCH0018" id="link2HCH0018"> + <!-- H2 anchor --> </a> + </p> + <div style="height: 4em;"> + <br /><br /><br /><br /> + </div> + <h2> + CHAPTER XVIII + </h2> + <h3> + THE MOUNTAIN AND MAHOMET + </h3> + <p> + The eleventh of July. The little Berry house stood high on its joists and + rollers, in the middle of the Hill Boulevard, directly opposite the + Edwards lot. Close behind it loomed the big “Colonial.” Another + twenty-four hours, and, even at its one-horse gait, the depot master's + dwelling would be beyond the strip of Edwards fence. The “Colonial” would + be ready to move on the lot, and Olive Edwards, the widow, would be + obliged to leave her home. In fact, Mr. Williams had notified her that she + and her few belongings must be off the premises by the afternoon of the + twelfth. + </p> + <p> + The great Williams was in high good-humor. He chuckled as he talked with + his foreman, and the foreman chuckled in return. Simeon Phinney did not + chuckle. He was anxious and worried, and even the news of Gertie Higgins's + runaway marriage, brought to him by Obed Gott, who—having been so + recently the victim of another unexpected matrimonial alliance—was + wickedly happy over the postmaster's discomfiture, did not interest him + greatly. + </p> + <p> + “Well, I wonder who'll be the next couple,” speculated Obed. “First Polena + and old Hardee, then Gertie Higgins and Sam Bartlett! I declare, Sim, + gettin' married unbeknownst to anybody must be catchin', like the measles. + Nobody's safe unless they've got a wife or husband livin'. Me and Sol + Berry are old baches—we'd better get vaccinated or WE may come down + with the disease. Ho! ho!” + </p> + <p> + After dinner Mr. Phinney went from his home to the depot. Captain Sol was + sitting in the ticket office, with the door shut. On the platform, + forlornly sprawled upon the baggage truck, was Issy McKay, the picture of + desolation. He started nervously when he heard Simeon's step. As yet + Issy's part in the Bartlett-Higgins episode was unknown to the + townspeople. Sam and Gertie had considerately kept silence. Beriah had not + learned who sent him the warning note, the unlucky missive which had + brought his troubles to a climax. But he was bound to learn it, he would + find out soon, and then—No wonder Issy groaned. + </p> + <p> + “Come in here, Sim,” said the depot master. Phinney entered the ticket + office. + </p> + <p> + “Shut the door,” commanded the Captain. The order was obeyed. “Well, what + is it?” asked Berry. + </p> + <p> + “Why, I just run in to see you a minute, Sol, that's all. What are you + shut up in here all alone for?” + </p> + <p> + “'Cause I want to be alone. There's been more than a thousand folks in + this depot so far to-day, seems so, and they all wanted to talk. I don't + feel like talkin'.” + </p> + <p> + “Heard about Gertie Higgins and—” + </p> + <p> + “Yes.” + </p> + <p> + “Who told you?” + </p> + <p> + “Hiram Baker told me first. He's a fine feller and he's so tickled, now + that his youngster's 'most well, that he cruises around spoutin' talk and + joy same as a steamer's stack spouts cinders. He told me. Then Obed Gott + and Cornelius Rowe and Redny Blount and Pat Starkey, and land knows how + many more, came to tell me. I cut 'em short. Why, even the Major himself + condescended to march in, grand and imposin' as a procession, to make + proclamations about love laughin' at locksmiths, and so on. Since he got + Polena and her bank account he's a bigger man than the President, in his + own estimate.” + </p> + <p> + “Humph! Well, he better make the best of it while it lasts. P'lena ain't + Hetty Green, and her money won't hold out forever.” + </p> + <p> + “That's a fact. Still Polena's got sense. She'll hold Hardee in check, I + cal'late. I wouldn't wonder if it ended by her bossin' things and the + Major actin' as a sort of pet poodle dog—nice and pretty to walk out + with, but always kept at the end of a string.” + </p> + <p> + “You didn't go to Higgins's for dinner to-day, did you?” + </p> + <p> + “No. Nor I shan't go for supper. Beriah's bad enough when he's got nothin' + the matter with him but dyspepsy. Now that his sufferin's are complicated + with elopements, I don't want to eat with him.” + </p> + <p> + “Come and have supper with us.” + </p> + <p> + “I guess not, thank you, Sim. I'll get some crackers and cheese and such + at the store. I—I ain't very hungry these days.” + </p> + <p> + He turned his head and looked out of the window. Simeon fidgeted. + </p> + <p> + “Sol,” he said, after a pause, “we'll be past Olive's by to-morrer night.” + </p> + <p> + No answer. Sim repeated his remark. + </p> + <p> + “I know it,” was the short reply. + </p> + <p> + “Yes—yes, I s'posed you did, but—” + </p> + <p> + “Sim, don't bother me now. This is my last day here at the depot, and I've + got things to do.” + </p> + <p> + “Your last day? Why, what—?” + </p> + <p> + Captain Sol told briefly of his resignation and of the coming of the new + depot master. + </p> + <p> + “But you givin' up your job!” gasped Phinney. “YOU! Why, what for?” + </p> + <p> + “For instance, I guess. I ain't dependent on the wages, and I'm sick of + the whole thing.” + </p> + <p> + “But what'll you do?” + </p> + <p> + “Don't know.” + </p> + <p> + “You—you won't leave town, will you? Lawsy mercy, I hope not!” + </p> + <p> + “Don't know. Maybe I'll know better by and by. I've got to think things + out. Run along now, like a good feller. Don't say nothin' about my + quittin'. All hands'll know it to-morrow, and that's soon enough.” + </p> + <p> + Simeon departed, his brain in a whirl. Captain Solomon Berry no longer + depot master! The world must be coming to an end. + </p> + <p> + He remained at his work until supper time. During the meal he ate and said + so little that his wife wondered and asked questions. To avoid answering + them he hurried out. When he returned, about ten o'clock, he was a changed + man. His eyes shone and he fairly danced with excitement. + </p> + <p> + “Emeline!” he shouted, as he burst into the sitting room. “What do you + think? I've got the everlastin'est news to tell!” + </p> + <p> + “Good or bad?” asked the practical Mrs. Phinney. + </p> + <p> + “Good! So good that—There! let me tell you. When I left here I went + down to the store and hung around till the mail was sorted. Pat Starkey + was doin' the sortin', Beriah bein' too upsot by Gertie's gettin' married + to attend to anything. Pat called me to the mail window and handed me a + letter. + </p> + <p> + “'It's for Olive Edwards,' he says. 'She's been expectin' one for a + consider'ble spell, she told me, and maybe this is it. P'r'aps you'd just + as soon go round by her shop and leave it.' + </p> + <p> + “I took the letter and looked at it. Up in one corner was the printed name + of an Omaha firm. I never said nothin', but I sartinly hustled on my way + up the hill. + </p> + <p> + “Olive was in her little settin' room back of the shop. She was pretty + pale, and her eyes looked as if she hadn't been doin' much sleepin' + lately. Likewise I noticed—and it give me a queer feelin' inside—that + her trunk was standin', partly packed, in the corner.” + </p> + <p> + “The poor woman!” exclaimed Mrs. Phinney. + </p> + <p> + “Yes,” went on her husband. “Well, I handed over the letter and started to + go, but she told me to set down and rest, 'cause I was so out of breath. + To tell you the truth, I was crazy to find out what was in that envelope + and, being as she'd give me the excuse, I set. + </p> + <p> + “She took the letter over to the lamp and looked at it for much as a + minute, as if she was afraid to open it. But at last, and with her fingers + shakin' like the palsy, she fetched a long breath and tore off the end of + the envelope. It was a pretty long letter, and she read it through. I see + her face gettin' whiter and whiter and, when she reached the bottom of the + last page, the letter fell onto the floor. Down went her head on her arms, + and she cried as if her heart would break. I never felt so sorry for + anybody in my life. + </p> + <p> + “'Don't, Mrs. Edwards,' I says. 'Please don't. That cousin of yours is a + darn ungrateful scamp, and I'd like to have my claws on his neck this + minute.' + </p> + <p> + “She never even asked me how I knew about the cousin. She was too much + upset for that. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh! oh!' she sobs. 'What SHALL I do? Where shall I go? I haven't got a + friend in the world!' + </p> + <p> + “I couldn't stand that. I went acrost and laid my hand on her shoulder. + </p> + <p> + “'Mrs. Edwards,' says I, 'you mustn't say that. You've got lots of + friends. I'm your friend. Mr. Hilton's your friend. Yes, and there's + another, the best friend of all. If it weren't for him, you'd have been + turned out into the street long before this.'” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Phinney nodded. “I'm glad you told her!” she exclaimed. “She'd ought + to know.” + </p> + <p> + “That's what I thought,” said Simeon. + </p> + <p> + “Well, she raised her head then and looked at me. + </p> + <p> + “'You mean Mr. Williams?' she asks. + </p> + <p> + “That riled me up. 'Williams nothin'!' says I. 'Williams let you stay here + 'cause he could just as well as not. If he'd known that this other friend + was keepin' him from gettin' here, just on your account, he'd have chucked + you to glory, promise or no promise. But this friend, this real friend, he + don't count cost, nor trouble, nor inconvenience. Hikes his house—the + house he lives in—right out into the road, moves it to a place where + he don't want to go, and—' + </p> + <p> + “'Mr. Phinney,' she sighs out, 'what do you mean?' + </p> + <p> + “And then I told her. She listened without sayin' a word, but her eyes + kept gettin' brighter and brighter and she breathed short. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh!' she says, when I'd finished. 'Did he—did he—do that for + ME?' + </p> + <p> + “'You bet!' says I. 'He didn't tell me what he was doin' it for—that + ain't Sol's style; but I'm arithmetiker enough to put two and two together + and make four. He did it for you, you can bet your last red on that.' + </p> + <p> + “She stood up. 'Oh!' she breathes. 'I—I must go and thank him. I—' + </p> + <p> + “But, knowin' Sol, I was afraid. Fust place, there was no tellin' how he'd + act, and, besides, he might not take it kindly that I'd told her. + </p> + <p> + “'Wait a jiffy,' I says. 'I'll go out and see if he's home. You stay here. + I'll be back right off.' + </p> + <p> + “Out I put, and over to the Berry house, standin' on its rollers in the + middle of the Boulevard. And, just as I got to it, somebody says: + </p> + <p> + “'Ahoy, Sim! What's the hurry? Anybody on fire?' + </p> + <p> + “'Twas the Cap'n himself, settin' on a pile of movin' joist and smokin' as + usual. I didn't waste no time. + </p> + <p> + “'Sol,' says I, 'I've just come from Olive's. She's got that letter from + the Omaha man. Poor thing! all alone there—' + </p> + <p> + “He interrupted me sharp. 'Well?' he snaps. 'What's it say? Will the + cousin help her?' + </p> + <p> + “'No,' I says, 'drat him, he won't!' + </p> + <p> + “The answer I got surprised me more'n anything I ever heard or ever will + hear. + </p> + <p> + “'Thank God!' says Sol Berry. 'That settles it.' + </p> + <p> + “And I swan to man if he didn't climb down off them timbers and march + straight across the street, over to the door of Olive Edwards's home, open + it, and go in! I leaned against the joist he'd left, and swabbed my + forehead with my sleeve.” + </p> + <p> + “He went to HER!” gasped Mrs. Phinney. + </p> + <p> + “Wait,” continued her husband. “I must have stood there twenty minutes + when I heard somebody hurryin' down the Boulevard. 'Twas Cornelius Rowe, + all red-faced and het up, but bu'stin' with news. + </p> + <p> + “''Lo, Sim!' says he to me. 'Is Cap'n Sol home? Does he know?' + </p> + <p> + “'Know? Know what?” says I. + </p> + <p> + “'Why, the trick Mr. Williams put up on him? Hey? You ain't heard? Well, + Mr. Williams's fixed him nice, HE has! Seems Abner Payne hadn't answered + Sol's letter tellin' him he'd accept the offer to swap lots, and Williams + went up to Wareham where Payne's been stayin' and offered him a thumpin' + price for the land on Main Street, and took it. The deed's all made out. + Cap'n Sol can't move where he was goin' to, and he's left with his house + on the town, as you might say. Ain't it a joke, though? Where is Sol? I + want to be the fust to tell him and see how he acts. Is he to home?' + </p> + <p> + “I was shook pretty nigh to pieces, but I had some sense left. + </p> + <p> + “'No, he ain't,' says I. 'I see him go up street a spell ago.'” + </p> + <p> + “Why, Simeon!” interrupted Mrs. Phinney once more. “Was that true? How + COULD you see him when—” + </p> + <p> + “Be still! S'pose I was goin' to tell him where Sol HAD gone? I'd have + lied myself blue fust. However, Cornelius was satisfied. + </p> + <p> + “'That so?' he grunts. 'By jings! I'm goin' to find him.' + </p> + <p> + “Off he went, and the next thing I knew the Edwards door opened, and I + heard somebody callin' my name. I went acrost, walkin' in a kind of daze, + and there, in the doorway, with the lamp shinin' on 'em, was Cap'n Sol and + Olive. The tears was wet on her cheeks, but she was smilin' in a kind of + shy, half-believin' sort of way, and as for Sol, he was one broad, + satisfied grin. + </p> + <p> + “'Cap'n,' I begun, 'I just heard the everlastin'est news that—' + </p> + <p> + “'Shut up, Sim!' he orders, cheerful. 'You've been a mighty good friend to + both of us, and I want you to be the fust to shake hands.' + </p> + <p> + “'Shake hands?' I stammers, lookin' at 'em. 'WHAT? You don't mean—' + </p> + <p> + “'I mean shake hands. Don't you want to?' + </p> + <p> + “Want to! I give 'em both one more look, and then we shook, up to the + elbows; and my grin had the Cap'n's beat holler. + </p> + <p> + “'Sim,' he says, after I'd cackled a few minutes, 'I cal'late maybe that + white horse is well by this time. P'r'aps we might move a little faster. + I'm kind of anxious to get to Main Street.' + </p> + <p> + “Then I remembered. 'Great gosh all fish-hooks!' I sings out. 'Main + Street? Why, there AIN'T no Main Street!' + </p> + <p> + “And I gives 'em Cornelius's news. The widow's smile faded out. + </p> + <p> + “'Oh!' says she. 'O Solomon! And I got you into all this trouble!' + </p> + <p> + “Cap'n Sol didn't stop grinnin', but he scratched his head. 'Huh!' says + he. 'Mark one up for King Williams the Great. Humph!' + </p> + <p> + “He thought for a minute and then he laughed out loud. 'Olive,' he says, + 'if I remember right, you and I always figgered to live on the Shore Road. + It's the best site in town. Sim, I guess if that white horse IS well, you + can move that shanty of mine right to Cross Street, down that, and back + along the Shore Road to the place where it come from. THAT land's mine + yet,' says he. + </p> + <p> + “If that wa'n't him all over! I couldn't think what to say, except that + folks would laugh some, I cal'lated. + </p> + <p> + “'Not at us, they won't,' says he. 'We'll clear out till the laughin' is + over. Olive, to-morrer mornin' we'll call on Parson Hilton and then take + the ten o'clock train. I feel's if a trip to Washin'ton would be about + right just now.' + </p> + <p> + “She started and blushed and then looked up into his face. 'Solomon,' she + says, low, 'I really would like to go to Niagara.' + </p> + <p> + “He shook his head. 'Old lady,' says he, 'I guess you don't quite + understand this thing. See here'—p'intin' to his house loomin' big + and black in the roadway—'see! the mountain has come to Mahomet.'” + </p> + <p> + Mrs. Phinney had heard enough. She sprang from her chair and seized her + husband's hands. + </p> + <p> + “Splendid!” she cried, her face beaming. “Oh, AIN'T it lovely! Ain't you + glad for 'em, Simeon?” + </p> + <p> + “Glad! Say, Emeline; there's some of that wild-cherry bounce down cellar, + ain't there? Let's break our teetotalism for once and drink a glass to + Cap'n and Mrs. Solomon Berry. Jerushy! I got to do SOMETHIN' to + celebrate.” + </p> + <p> + On the Hill Boulevard the summer wind stirred the silverleaf poplars. The + thick, black shadows along the sidewalks were heavy with the perfume of + flowers. Captain Sol, ex-depot master of East Harniss, strolled on in the + dark, under the stars, his hands in his pockets, and in his heart + happiness complete and absolute. + </p> + <p> + Behind him twinkled the lamp in the window of the Edwards house, so soon + to be torn down. Before him, over the barberry hedge, blazed the windows + of the mansion the owner of which was responsible for it all. The windows + were open, and through them sounded the voices of the mighty Ogden + Hapworth Williams and his wife, engaged in a lively altercation. It was an + open secret that their married life was anything but peaceful. + </p> + <p> + “What are you grumbling about now?” demanded 'Williams. “Don't I give you + more money than—” + </p> + <p> + “Nonsense!” sneered Mrs. Williams, in scornful derision. “Nonsense, I say! + Money is all there is to you, Ogden. In other things, the real things of + this world, those you can't buy with money, you're a perfect imbecile. You + know nothing whatever about them.” + </p> + <p> + Captain Sol, alone on the walk by the hedge, glanced in the direction of + the shrill voice, then back at the lamp in Olive's window. And he laughed + aloud. + </p> + <p> + <br /> <br /> + </p> +<pre xml:space="preserve"> + + + + + +End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Depot Master, by Joseph C. 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