Part 21 (1/2)
After that Bettina Hansen felt, somehow, that the world could not possibly contain another man like Jim Irwin--a conviction which she still cherishes when that respectful caress has been swept into the cloudy distance of a woman's memories.
Pete, Colonel Woodruff's hired man, was watering the horses at the trough when the trouble shooter reached the Woodruff telephone. County Superintendent Jennie had run for her father's home in her little motor-car in the face of the shower, and was now on the bench where once she had said ”Humph!” to Jim Irwin--and thereby started in motion the factors in this story.
”Anything wrong with your phone?” asked the trouble man of Pete.
”Nah,” replied Pete. ”It was on the blink till you done something down the road.”
”Crossed up,” said the lineman. ”These trees along here are something fierce.”
”I'd cut 'em all if they was mine,” said Pete, ”but the colonel set 'em out, along about sixty-six, and I reckon they'll have to go on a-growin'.”
”Who's your school-teacher?” asked the telephone man.
The county superintendent p.r.i.c.ked up her ears--being quite properly interested in matters educational.
”Feller name of Irwin,” said Pete.
”Not much of a looker,” said the trouble shooter.
”Nater of the sile,” said Pete. ”He an' I both worked in it together till it roughened up our complexions.”
”Farmer, eh?” said the lineman interrogatively. ”Well, he's the first farmer I ever saw in my life that recognized there's education in the telephone business. I'm goin' to teach a cla.s.s in telephony at the schoolhouse to-morrow.”
”Don't get swelled up,” said Pete. ”He has everybody tell them young ones about everything--blacksmith, cabinet-maker, pie-founder, cookie-cooper, dressmaker--even down to telephones. He'll have them scholars figurin' on telephones, and writin' compositions on 'em, and learnin' 'lectricity from 'em an' things like that”
”He must be some feller,” said the lineman. ”And who's his star pupil?”
”Didn't know he had one,” said Pete. ”Why?”
”Girl,” said the trouble-shooter. ”Goes to school from the farm where the Western Union brace is used at the road.”
”Nils Hansen's girl?” asked Pete.
”Toppy little filly,” said the lineman, ”with silver mane--looks like she'd pull a good load and step some.”
”M'h'm,” grunted Pete. ”Bettina Hansen. Looks well enough. What about her?”
Again the county superintendent, seated on the bench, p.r.i.c.ked up her ears that she might learn, mayhap, something of educational interest.
”I never wanted to be a school-teacher as bad,” continued the shooter of trouble, ”as I did when this farmer got to the low place in the road with the fair Bettina this afternoon when they was comin' home from school. The water was all over the road----”
”Then I win a smoke from the roadmaster,” said Pete. ”I bet him it would overflow.”
”Well, if I was in the professor's place, I'd be glad to pay the bet,”
said the worldly lineman. ”And I'll say this for him, he rose equal to the emergency and caved the emergency's head in. He carried her across the pond, and her a-clingin' to his neck in a way to make your mouth water.
She wasn't a bit mad about it, either.”
”I'd rather have a good cigar any ol' time,” said Pete. ”Nothin' but a yaller-haired kid--an' a Dane at that. I had a dame once up at Spirit Lake----”
”Well, I must be drivin' on,” said the lineman. ”Got to get up a lecture for Professor Irwin to-morrow--and maybe I'll be able to meet that yaller-haired kid. So long!”