Part 29 (1/2)

Kimball. ”Though how in th' name a' th' sacred cat was I t' know there were salt on th' land. My! My! But I guess I've made a bad mistake.”

So, instead of being glad because the land was sold, Mr. Kimball, and all the family, were greatly downcast after they had listened to Roger's story. And he, too, took very much to heart the disappointment of his uncle. If he had only acted a day sooner, all this trouble would have been avoided. But it was too late for regrets now, and the only thing to do, was to make the best of it, the boy thought. Yet it was very hard to see valuable land sold for such a small sum, particularly when his uncle needed money so badly. There was just a faint hope in Roger's heart, that perhaps Mr. Vanter might be able to suggest a way out of the difficulty. But the hope was so faint that he hardly dared speak of it.

He could only wait until the promised arrival of the surveyor, and see what would come of it.

Troubled dreams disturbed the usually quiet slumbers of more than one member of the Kimball home that night. Roger's uncle was so restless, tossing to and fro on the bed, and thinking of his lost opportunity, that he was glad when morning came, so he could get up and go to work.

The others, also, thought too much of what had happened to sleep well.

After the ch.o.r.es were done up Mr. Kimball paid a visit to the spring glade. To his eyes, not experienced in looking for signs of mineral wealth, there were no indications of a salt mine beneath the surface, and he felt himself almost wis.h.i.+ng such a thing could not be true. But he could scarcely doubt it, after what had occurred. With a heavy heart he took up the duties of the day.

”Come on, Roger,” called Adrian, as soon as he had done his part of the morning's work about the farm, ”let's go up by the spring, and see where the salt mine is. Cracky! I wish I'd been along when you went fis.h.i.+ng on dry land. I'll bet I'd fired a stone at Ranquist.”

”I wish you had been along,” said Roger. ”Your father would not have signed then. But I thought I was acting for the best.”

”Of course you did. It isn't your fault,” replied Adrian.

The two boys walked up the hill, and were soon at the place. On the way Roger was wondering whether Mr. Vanter had come out. He remembered his instructions, to pretend not to recognize the surveyor. As the lads approached the spring they could hear through the trees, the noise of men digging, and voices in conversation. The click of spades and shovels was plainly audible.

”They're at it already!” exclaimed Adrian. ”Hurry up, and let's see 'em get the salt out.”

”I guess they won't reach it very soon,” said Roger. ”It's about twenty-five feet under the surface.”

The boys quickened their steps, and soon came to the open glade. Three men were busy at work, two of them laborers, while the third was a familiar figure to Roger, who gave a start of surprise as he recognized Mr. Vanter directing operations. But even in the intense excitement of the moment, Roger did not forget his promise, and he was prepared to show by no sign that he had ever seen the surveyor before.

”Why, there's a new man,” said Adrian, as he caught sight of Mr. Vanter.

”I thought, at first, it was Mr. Dudley or Mr. Ranquist, but it isn't. I wonder who he is. Anyhow, let's see what they are doing.”

The cousins watched the laborers with great interest. Mr. Vanter glanced up and saw Roger, but, though he gave just the faintest smile, to show he knew his young friend, he made no motion to indicate that the order of last night was not to be obeyed, so Roger kept silent.

The two laborers were digging a sort of inclined shaft, sinking it about the place where Mr. Ranquist had drilled the small hole. Their picks and shovels made the brown dirt fly, and Mr. Vanter urged them on, as though they were working against time. The boys watched for perhaps ten minutes, when there came a sound, as if some one was approaching. The next instant Mr. Dudley and Mr. Ranquist appeared on the scene. Roger started in surprise, wondering what would happen now, but Mr. Vanter gave no indication that he saw the engineers, and the laborers kept on digging.

”Well,” said Mr. Ranquist, at length, ”I must say I consider this a rather high-handed proceeding. By what right, sir, are you working on my property? Do you know,” addressing Mr. Vanter, ”that you and your men are trespa.s.sing, and are liable to arrest?”

”Since when have you owned this land?” asked the surveyor, coolly. ”This belongs to Bert Kimball, a friend of mine, and--”

”It doesn't belong to him any more,” broke in Mr. Ranquist.

”Since when has he ceased to own it?”

”Well, I don't know as that is any of your affair, but I'll tell you.

Since yesterday afternoon Mr. Kimball ceased to be the owner, when he signed an agreement to sell this piece to the Universal Salt Company.”

Mr. Vanter started, and looked at Roger, who sorrowfully nodded in confirmation of what the engineer had said.

”There's his son; ask him,” went on Mr. Ranquist, pointing to Adrian.

”I guess it's true,” said the boy, in response to Mr. Vanter's look.

”But,” he added, ”my father would never have agreed to sell it if he had known there was salt on it.”

”I would imagine not,” said Mr. Vanter, softly, to himself.

”That was his lookout, not mine,” came from Mr. Ranquist. Turning to Mr.

Vanter, he added: ”I advise you to leave here, my friend. I'll overlook the trespa.s.s for once, but don't let it happen again,” and he frowned in a significant manner.