Part 15 (1/2)
It was gradually filtering into the mind of Mr. Hubert Morrissey that for some reason the owner of the tree was harboring a resentment against the giver of the flag. Then he suddenly recalled the fact that Mr. Walker was the father of Colonel Butler's daughter-in-law, and that the relation between the two men had been somewhat strained. But Grandpa Walker was now ready with another question:
”Is Colonel Richard Butler a givin' the pole too?”
”Why, yes, I believe he furnishes the pole also.”
”It was him 't sent ye out here a lookin' fer one; was it?”
”He asked us to hunt one up for him, certainly.”
”Told ye, when ye found one 't was right, to git it? Not to haggle about the price, but git it an' pay fer it? Told ye that, didn't he?”
”Well, if it wasn't just that it was first cousin to it.”
”Jes' so. Well, you go back to Chestnut Hill, an' you go to Colonel Richard Butler, an' you tell Colonel Richard Butler that ef he wants to buy a spruce tree from Enos Walker of Cobb's Corners, to come here an' bargain fer it himself. He'll find me to hum most any day. How's the sleighin'?”
”Pretty fair. But, Mr. Walker--”
”No buts, ner ifs, ner ands. Ye heard what I said, an' I stan' by it till the crack o' jedgment.”
The old man rose, knocked the ashes out of his pipe and put the pipe in his vest pocket, stretched himself, and reached for his cap. It was plain that he considered the interview at an end. The persuasive Mr.
Morrissey tried to get a wedge in somewhere to reopen it, but he tried in vain. Enos Walker was adamant. So, disappointed and discomfited, the emissaries of Colonel Richard Butler bade ”good-day,” to the oracle of Cobb's Corners, and drove back to Chestnut Hill.
CHAPTER VII
On the morning after the interview with Enos Walker, Mr. Morrissey and Mr. Campbell went up to Bannerhall to report to Colonel Richard Butler. But they went hesitatingly. Indeed, it had been a question in their minds whether it would not be wiser to say nothing to Colonel Butler concerning their experience at Cobb's Corners, and simply to go elsewhere and hunt up another tree. But Mr. Walker's tree was such a model of perfection for their purpose, the possibility of finding another one that would even approach it in suitability was so extremely remote, that the two gentlemen, after serious discussion of the question, being well aware of Colonel Butler's idiosyncrasies, decided, finally, to put the whole case up to him, and to accept cheerfully whatever he might have in store for them. There was one chance in a hundred that the colonel, instead of scornfully resenting Enos Walker's proposal, might take the matter philosophically and accept the old man's terms. They thought it better to take that chance.
They found Colonel Butler in his office adjoining the library. He was in an ordinarily cheerful mood, although the deep shadows under his eyes, noticeable only within the last few weeks, indicated that he had been suffering either in mind or in body, perhaps in both.
”Well, gentlemen,” he said when his visitors were seated; ”what about the arboreal errand? Did you find a tree?”
Mr. Hubert Morrissey, as he had been the day before, was again, to-day, the spokesman for his committee of two.
”We found a tree,” he replied.
”One in all respects satisfactory I hope?” the colonel inquired.
”Eminently satisfactory,” was the answer. ”In fact a perfect beauty. I doubt if it has its equal in this section of the state. Wouldn't you say so, Mr. Campbell?”
”I fully agree with you,” replied Mr. Campbell. ”It's without a peer.”
”How will it measure?” inquired the colonel.
”I should say,” responded Mr. Morrissey, ”that it will dress up to about twelve inches at the base, and will stand about fifty feet to the ball on the summit. Shouldn't you say so, Mr. Campbell?”
”Just about,” was the reply. ”Not an inch under those figures, in my judgment.”
”Good!” exclaimed the colonel. ”Permit me to congratulate you, gentlemen. You have performed a distinct public service. You deserve the thanks of the entire community.”