Part 4 (2/2)
left me a hunk o' money, the gang at the grocery stood clean out on the sidewalk watchin' me. When I inquired at the hotel, the clerk an' two n.i.g.g.e.r waiters said Tom was askin' about me an' had just run over to the court-house, whar I'd be sh.o.r.e to find him.”
”I see the point,” Mostyn laughed.
”I'm glad you do so quick, for I had to have it beat into me with a sledge-hammer,” Webb said, dryly. ”I was so mad I could have chawed nails, but I blamed myself more'n anybody else, for they was just havin' their fun an' meant no harm.”
”I suppose not,” Mostyn said.
”Well, I can't complain; they have their sport with one another. Dolph Wartrace, you know, that keeps the cross-roads store nigh us, clerked in Darley before he went in on his own hook out here, an' I've heard 'im tell of a lot o' pranks that they had over thar. He said thar was an old bachelor that, kept a dry-goods store who never had had much to do with women. He was bashful-like, but thar was _one_ young woman that he had his eye on, an' now an' then he'd spruce up an' go to see 'er or take 'er out to meetin', but Jeff said he was too weak-kneed to pop the question, an' the gal went off on a visit to Alabama and got married.
Now, the old bach' had a gang o' friends that was always in for fun, an' with long, sad faces they went about askin' everybody they met if they had heard that Bob Hadley--that was the feller's name--if they had heard that he was dead. Bob knowed what they was sayin' an' tried to put a pleasant face on it, but it must have been hard work, considerin'
all that happened.
”Well, one thing added to another till a gang of Bob's friends met the next night in a grocery store after he had gone to bed and still with sad, solemn faces declared that, considerin' his untimely end, it was their bounden duty to bury 'im in a respectable way. So they went to the furniture store close by an' borrowed a coffin an' picked out pall-bearers. A feller that slept with Bob in the little room cut off at the end o' his store was in the game, an' he had a key an' unlocked the door, an' the solemn procession marched in singin' some sad hymn or other with every man-jack of 'em wipin' his eyes an' snufflin'. Now, that was all well an' good as far as it went, but thar was a traitor in the camp. Somebody had let the dead man in on the job, an' when the gang got to the door of the little room he jumped out o' bed with a surprised sort o' grunt an' let into firin' blank-cartridges straight at 'em. Folks say that thar was some o' the tallest runnin' an' jumpin'
an' hidin' under counters an' bustin' show-cases that ever tuck place out of a circus. After that night Jeff said the whole town was meetin'
the gang an' tellin' 'em that thar must 'a' been some mistake about the report of Bob Hadley's death anyway.”
Mostyn laughed heartily. Indeed, he was conscious of a growing sense of deep content and restfulness. The turmoil of business and city life seemed almost dreamlike in its remoteness from his present more rational existence. With the handle of his whip Webb pointed to the roof of the farmhouse, the fuzzy gray s.h.i.+ngles of which were barely showing above the trees by which it was shaded.
”You haven't told me how the family are,” Mostyn said, ”I suppose the children are much larger now. Dolly, at least, must be a young lady, from what Saunders tells me of her school-work.”
Webb's blue eyes swept the face of the banker with a steady scrutiny.
There was a faint twinkle in their mystic depths as he replied.
”Yes, she's full grown. She's kin folks o' mine, an' it ain't for me to say, but I'd be unnatural if I wasn't proud of 'er. She's the head of that shebang, me included. What she says goes with young or old. She ain't more'n eighteen, if she's that, an' yet she furnishes brains for us an' mighty nigh all the neighborhood. You wait till you see 'er an'
hear 'er talk, an' you will know what I mean.”
CHAPTER V
The next morning the new boarder waked at sunrise, and stood at a window of his room on the upper floor of the farmhouse and looked out across the fields and meadows to the rugged, mist-draped mountain. The beautiful valley was flooded with the soft golden light. An indescribable l.u.s.ter seemed to breathe from every dew-laden stalk of cotton or corn, plant, vine, blade of gra.s.s and patch of succulent clover. Cobwebs, woven in the night and bejeweled with dewdrops, festooned the boughs of the trees in the orchard and on the lawn. From the barn-yard back of the farmhouse a chorus of sounds was rising. Pigs were grunting and squealing, cows were mooing, a donkey was braying, ducks were quacking, hens were clucking, roosters were crowing.
”Saunders is right,” Mostyn declared, enthusiastically. ”I don't blame the fellow for spending so much time on his plantation. This is the only genuine life. The other is insanity, crazy, compet.i.tive madness, for which there is no cure this side of the grave. I must have two natures. At this moment I feel as if I'd rather die than sweat and stew over investments and speculations in a bank as I have been doing, and yet I may be sure that the thing will clutch me again. One word of Delbridge's lucky manipulations or old Mitch.e.l.l's praise, and the fever would burn to my bones. But I mustn't think of them if I am to benefit by this. I must fill myself with this primitive simplicity and dream once more the glorious fancies of boyhood.”
Finis.h.i.+ng dressing, he descended the stairs to the hall below and pa.s.sed through the open door to the veranda. No one was in sight, but from the kitchen in the rear he heard the clatter of utensils and dishes, and smelt the aroma of boiling coffee and frying ham. Already his appet.i.te was sharpened as if by the mountain air. He decided on taking a walk, and, stepping down to the gra.s.s, he turned round the house, coming face to face upon Dolly, whom he had not yet seen, as she came from a side door.
”Oh!” she exclaimed, flus.h.i.+ng prettily. ”I did not think you would rise so early--at least, not on your first morning.”
He eyed her almost in bewilderment as he took the hand she was cordially extending. Could this full-blown rose of young womanhood, this startling beauty, be the slip of a timid girl he had so lightly treated three years ago? What hair, what eyes, what palpitating, sinuous grace! She was fast recovering calmness. There was a womanly dignity about her which seemed incongruous in one so young.
”I am rather surprised at myself for waking so early,” he answered. ”I slept like a log. It is the first real rest I have had since--since I was here before. Why, Dolly”--he caught himself up--”I suppose I must say Miss Drake now--”
”No, I am not that to any one in all this valley, and don't want to be!” she cried, the corners of her mouth curving bewitchingly. ”Even the little children call me 'Dolly,' and I like it.”
”I mustn't stop you if you are going somewhere,” he said, still in the grasp of her wondrous beauty.
”I'm going down to Tobe Barnett's cabin in the edge of our field.” She showed a small vial half filled with medicine in the pocket of her white ap.r.o.n. ”His baby, little Robby, was taken sick a few days ago. I sat up there part of last night. They have no paragoric and I am taking some over.”
”So that's where you were; I wondered when I didn't see you at supper,”
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