Part 13 (1/2)

”Thank you, Colonel.”

”And we'll show them they're in a horse race.”

”I don't see ...” said Jim.

”You're not supposed to see,” said the colonel, ”but you can bet that we'll be with them at the finish; and, by thunder! while they're getting a full meal, we'll get at least a lunch. See?”

”But Jennie says,” began Jim.

”Don't tell me what she says,” said the colonel. ”She's acting according to her judgment, and her lights and other organs of perception, and I don't think it fittin' that her father should try to influence her official conduct. But you go on and review them common branches, and keep your nerve. I haven't felt so much like a sc.r.a.p since the day we stormed Lookout Mountain. I kinder like being a wild-eyed reformer, Jim.”

CHAPTER XIII

FAME OR NOTORIETY

The office of county superintendent was, as a matter of course, the least desirable room of the court-house. I say ”room” advisedly, because it consisted of a single chamber of moderate size, provided with office furniture of the minimum quant.i.ty and maximum age. It opened off the central hall at the upper end of the stairway which led to the court room, and when court was in session, served the extraordinary needs of justice as a jury room. At such times the county superintendent's desk was removed to the hall, where it stood in a noisy and confusing but very democratic publicity. Superintendent Jennie might have antic.i.p.ated the time when, during the March term, offenders pa.s.sing from the county jail in the bas.e.m.e.nt to arraignment at the bar of justice might be able to peek over her shoulders and criticize her method of treating examination papers. On the twenty-fifth of February, however, this experience lurked unsuspected in her official future.

Poor Jennie! She antic.i.p.ated nothing more than the appearance of Messrs.

Bronson, Peterson and Bonner in her office to confront Jim Irwin on certain questions of fact relating to Jim's competency to hold a teacher's certificate. The time appointed was ten o'clock. At nine forty-five Cornelius Bonner and his wife entered the office, and took twenty-five per cent. of the chairs therein. At nine fifty Jim Irwin came in, haggard, weather-beaten and seedy as ever, and looked as if he had neither eaten nor slept since his sweetheart stabbed him. At nine fifty-five Haakon Peterson and Ezra Bronson came in, accompanied by Wilbur Smythe, attorney-at-law, who carried under his arm a code of Iowa, a compilation of the school laws of the state, and _Throop on Public Officers_. At nine fifty-six, therefore, the crowd in Jennie's office exceeded its seating capacity, and Jennie was in a flutter as the realization dawned upon her that this promised to be a bigger and more public affair than she had antic.i.p.ated. At nine fifty-nine Raymond Simms opened the office door and there filed in enough children, large and small, some of them accompanied by their parents, and all belonging to the Woodruff school, to fill completely the interstices of the corners and angles of the room and between the legs of the grownups. In addition there remained an overflow meeting in the hall, under the command of that distinguished military gentleman, Colonel Albert Woodruff.

”Say, Bill, come here!” said the colonel, crooking his finger at the deputy sheriff.

”What you got here, Al!” said Bill, coming up the stairs, puffing. ”Ain't it a little early for Sunday-school picnics?”

”This is a school fight in our district,” said the colonel. ”It's Jennie's baptism of fire, I reckon ... and say, you're not using the court room, are you?”

”Nope,” said Bill.

”Well, why not just slip around, then,” said the colonel, ”and tell Jennie she'd better adjourn to the big room.”

Which suggestion was acted upon instanter by Deputy Bill.

”But I can't, I can't,” said Jennie to the courteous deputy sheriff. ”I don't want all this publicity, and I don't want to go into the court room.”

”I hardly see,” said Deputy Bill, ”how you can avoid it. These people seem to have business with you, and they can't get into your office.”

”But they have no business with me,” said Jennie. ”It's mere curiosity.”

Whereupon Wilbur Smythe, who could see no particular point in restricted publicity, said, ”Madame County Superintendent, this hearing certainly is public or quasi-public. Your office is a public one, and while the right to attend this hearing may not possibly be a universal one, it surely is one belonging to every citizen and taxpayer of the county, and if the taxpayer, _qua_ taxpayer, then certainly _a fortiori_ to the members of the Woodruff school and residents of that district.”

Jennie quailed. ”All right, all right!” said she. ”But, shall I have to sit on the bench!”

”You will find it by far the most convenient place,” said Deputy Bill.

Was this the life to which public office had brought her? Was it for this that she had bartered her independence--for this and the musty office, the stupid examination papers, and the interminable visiting of schools, knowing that such supervision as she could give was practically worthless?

Jim had said to her that he had never heard of such a thing as a good county superintendent of schools, and she had thought him queer. And now, here was she, called upon to pa.s.s on the competency of the man who had always been her superior in everything that const.i.tutes mental ability; and to make the thing more a matter for the laughter of the G.o.ds, she was perched on the judicial bench, which Deputy Bill had dusted off for her, tipping a wink to the a.s.semblage while doing it. He expected to be a candidate for sheriff, one of these days, and was pleasing the crowd. And that crowd! To Jennie it was appalling. The school board under the lead of Wilbur Smythe took seats inside the railing which on court days divided the audience from the lawyers and litigants. Jim Irwin, who had never been in a court room before, herded with the crowd, obeying the attraction of sympathy, but to Jennie, seated on the bench, he, like other persons in the auditorium, was a mere blurry outline with a k.n.o.b of a head on its top.

She couldn't call the gathering to order. She had no idea as to the proper procedure. She sat there while the people gathered, stood about whispering and talking under their breaths, and finally became silent, all their eyes fixed on her, as she wished that the office of county superintendent had been abolished in the days of her parents' infancy.