CHAPTER XV
STRANGERS IN TOWN
It was several days before the people of Cardiff were done talking aboutthe bob sled race, and it was much longer ere the boys of the crew andRoger and Adrian got beyond telling each other their feelings at thevarious stages of the perilous journey. Mr. Kimball was proud of hisson's achievement, and Mrs. Kimball was thankful no one had been hurt.So the memorable contest passed into local history, and no doubt if youshould go to Cardiff now, you would learn all about it much better thanit is told here.
Winter now settled down over the valley, and it was a severe season, asRoger found. Yet, though it was much colder than ever he had known it tobe in New York, the lower temperature did not affect him so much as thefrosty weather at home, since the atmosphere was a dry one, differing inthis respect from the penetrating damp cold of the region near theAtlantic.
Thanksgiving came, with its feasting, its gathering of old friends andrelatives about the fireside, and all its happiness, and Roger thoughtit was the jolliest holiday of the year. Never was there such a big,crisp-brown roasted turkey, never so much cranberry sauce, never suchstacks of white celery, never such good gravy, such sweet hickory nuts,such white popcorn, such rosy-cheeked apples, nor such fine cider. Themeal lasted all day, and at night every one voted they had enough tolast them a week.
December saw Cardiff snowbound, and for a week the village was cut offfrom communication with the other towns because of the big drifts thatfilled the valley. Christmas brought the usual joys, and Roger was wellremembered by the folks at home. There was a welcome letter, also, fromhis father, in which Mr. Anderson said how glad he was that his son'shealth was improving so rapidly. Then there was a box that containedsome books that he had long wished for and a bright five-dollargold-piece.
The new year came, and winter, with all its old-fashioned severity, heldCardiff tight and fast. It snowed, and snowed, and snowed again.
Then there was nothing to do but stay in the house, or after a trip tothe barn and the finishing of the chores to journey to the villagestore. Adrian began to attend school, and occasionally Roger went withhim, to sit in the classroom, and listen to the recitations. But therewas plenty of time before and after school, for fun. The two boys wentcoasting and skating, and it was at these sports Roger found he had muchto learn from his cousin and the other country boys, who could glidealong over the frozen mill pond, from morning until night, and neverseem to tire.
"Wa'al," remarked Mr. Kimball, as he came home from Hank Mack's store,one cold night, stamping the snow from his boots in the wood-shed,"wa'al, I hope it's cloudy t'-morrow."
"Why?" asked Roger, who thought the more sun there was in winter thebetter it must be.
"Why? So's thi' b'ar won't see his shadder."
"What if he does see his shadow?"
"Land a' Goshen, th' boy never hearn tell a' Candlemas Day," ejaculatedMr. Kimball. "You see," he explained, "there's an ole sayin' 'n' I gotit from my granddad, thet goes suthin' like this: Candlemas Day, halfyer pork, 'n' half yer hay.' Thet means, 'cordin' t' my way a' thinkin'thet t'-morrow's 'bout th' middle a' winter, 'n' a keerful farmer'llonly hev half his produce eat up. Ye know b'ars go inter holler logs t'sleep all winter. Come February second, which is Candlemas Day, there'sa theory they come out t' see how th' weather is.
"Ef th' sun shines so's t' throw a shadder on th' ground, it skeers th'b'ar so, he skedaddles back inter his holler log, 'n' sleeps fer sixweeks more, durin' which time we hev winter. But, ef th' sun don'tshine, 'n' thar ain't no shadder, th' b'ar's satisfied. He don't gitskeered, 'n' only goes back in his log fer four weeks more sleep, whichmeans an early spring. So ye see why I don't want th' sun t' shinet'-morrow."
"I see," laughed Roger, as Mr. Kimball finished his explanation. "Willyou have half your pork and half your hay left by to-morrow?"
"I calalate so," responded Mr. Kimball, "I calalate so."
The sun didn't shine next day, and Mr. Kimball was happy. For thefollowing few days it snowed, and Roger began to feel that there wouldbe several months more of winter, instead of the proverbial four weeks,but his uncle didn't seem to worry.
Whether it was due to the bear's action or not, there was an earlyspring that year. The bluebirds came about the middle of March, andfarmers began their plowing several weeks ahead of the usual time. Everyone was glad that winter was over, though Roger and the other boys inCardiff had enjoyed it very much, and many of them wished for a secondcontest with the bobs down Lafayette hill. Gradually the days gotwarmer, and the damp earth gave out a pleasant odor that promised aready sprouting of the seeds.
One pleasant evening toward the end of April, when the sun peeped out,just before setting, after a smart little shower, Roger went to thepost-office, to wait for the stage to come in with the mail. Adrian wasnot with him, for he had some chores to do, and of late Roger had falleninto the habit of going to the village alone occasionally.
He sat on the steps of Hank Mack's general store, which also containedthe post-office, talking with several boys, whose acquaintance he hadmade since he arrived in Cardiff.
"There she comes," cried Frank Dobbs, as he pointed to a moving objecthalf a mile away. Roger looked and saw the stage, which advanced rapidlyand in a few minutes drew up at the steps with a flourish. PorterAmidown jumped off, lugging the heavy mail bag into the little roompartitioned off from the main store, where the letters and papers wouldbe sorted and put in the different boxes.
Most of the boys followed Porter inside, but Roger lingered on the stepsto see if the stage brought any passengers. He saw Enberry Took alightfrom the driver's high seat, and the boy nodded to him. Then from insidethe vehicle two men got out. One was an elderly gentleman, bearing avalise of which he seemed to take great care. His companion was younger,and, when he had stepped out he lifted after him a long, three-leggedinstrument, of the kind Roger had often seen surveyors use. The youngerman also carried a small satchel, which he handled as if it containedsomething of value.
"Where's the hotel; that is, Crownheart's hotel?" asked the younger manof Roger, who just then was the only person at hand.
"Right over there, sir," pointing to the single inn of which the villageboasted, and which stood a little way up the hill, beyond thepost-office.
"Thanks, my boy," said the inquirer. Then to his companion, "This way,Mr. Dudley. It doesn't look very promising, to be sure, but then, youknow, you never can tell by the looks of a toad how far it can jump. Iguess we can stand it for a night or two, until we find out whetherthere is any truth in this report or not," and the two men startedtoward the Pine Tree Inn, as Abe Crownheart called his hotel.
Roger stood looking at the strangers for a minute, wondering what theirobject might be in coming to Cardiff with their instrument and thevalises, and he puzzled over the younger man's last words. Thendismissing the matter from his mind, he went in for the mail. When hefound a letter for him from home, he was so delighted that he forgot allabout the two new arrivals.
Abe Crownheart was considerably surprised when Mr. Dudley and Mr.Ranquist, as the men introduced themselves, appeared at his hotel andasked for accommodations.
"I suppose we can have a bed," suggested Mr. Dudley.
"And something to eat, don't forget that," put in Mr. Ranquist. "Thattwelve-mile stage journey has given me a tremendous appetite."
"Wa'al," began Mr. Crownheart, slowly, as if trying to think ofsomething to say,--"wa'al, t' be honest 'ith ye, we don't hev much callfer lodgins fer man 'n' beast here. Cou'se I kin guv ye suthin' t' eat,but th' bed--um--d' ye mind both sleepin' in th' same room?"
"We would prefer it, if there are separate beds," said Mr. Dudley.
"I guess Mrs. Crownheart kin fix ye up then. Ye see we ain't very strongon sleepin' quarters, 'ceptin' fer our own family. Last time we hedboarders were quite a number a' years ago, in fact when th' Cardiffgiant were first diskivered. I s'pose ye hearn tell a' thet," and hepaused for an answer.
Mr. Dudley nodded.
"Yep," went on Abe, "th' figger were diskivered right acrost th' valleyhere, 'n' I boarded some a' th' men what were exhibitin' it. I recollecthow--"
"I dare say," broke in Mr. Dudley, shortly, "I have heard considerableabout that giant fraud, and some future day I will be glad to discussthe various features of it with you, but now, my dear Mr. Crowhead--"
"Crownheart, sir, that's my name,--Crownheart, not Crowhead," said Abe,a little nettled. "It's right on the sign."
"Oh, yes, to be sure, Crownheart, I beg your pardon, exceedingly stupidof me. No offence, I assure you, my eyesight is not as good as it oncewas."
"Least said soonest mended," answered Mr. Crownheart, smilinggood-naturedly. "Thet giant--"
"I was about to suggest," broke in Mr. Dudley once more, "that if it wasall the same to you, Mr. Crownheart, Mr. Ranquist and I would go to ourroom, and get ready for supper, which at the present time is something Iwould rather discuss than any number of stone giants."
"If you'll kindly allow us to register, we'll go upstairs, I think,"said Mr. Ranquist.
"Wa'al, 's I were sayin'," went on Mr. Crownheart, apparently notheeding the suggestions, "we ain't been called on t' lodge anybody senceth' giant were dug up. Howsomever, I guess I kin accommodate ye.Supper's a leetle easier t' figger out than th' beddin' question. Ameal is suthin' we kin rassal 'ith t' some advantage."
"Shall we register?" asked Mr. Dudley, getting a little impatient. "Wedon't know how long we may stay. Probably a week."
"Wa'al, we ain't in th' habit a' havin' folks register," said theinn-keeper. "To be honest 'ith ye, I don't know's we got any conveniencefer it. Uster be a book 'round here sommers, but I swan I don't knowwhat's become of it. Prob'ly th' boys hev used it t' keep th' score a'their cribbage games in. Here, scribble yer names down on thet, 'n' ef Icome acrost th' book some day, I'll fill 'em in. 'T ain't no waysparticular, anyhow," and he shoved over a bit of rough brownwrapping-paper, on which his guests wrote their names, adding afterthem, "New York City."
"From N' York, eh?" said Mr. Crownheart, looking at what the two men hadput down. "Wa'al, we've got another N' Yorker here."
"You don't say so," began Mr. Dudley, eagerly, "who is he, an engin--"and he stopped suddenly, as his companion nudged him warningly.
"Why, he's Bert Kimball's nephew," said Mr. Crownheart. "Mebby ye seenth' lad. He were 'ith a lot a' others on th' steps a' th' post-office,waitin' fer th' stage t' come in."
"Oh, yes, that must have been the boy who showed us your hotel," saidMr. Ranquist, quickly, and Mr. Dudley appeared much relieved.
"He's up here fer his health," went on Abe. "Cardiff's healthy 'nuff feranybody. Be you two out here fer thet, or be ye surveyin' fer arailroad?" and the inn-keeper looked significantly at the instrument Mr.Ranquist had.
"Well, we heard this village was a healthy place," put in Mr. Dudley,the older man, "and so we thought we'd come and see for ourselves. Wemight do a little surveying also, but whether for a railroad or notisn't for us to say. Suppose you show us to our room now."
"All right," answered Mr. Crownheart, a little miffed that his guestshad not declared their business in response to his gentle hint. "Jestcome along. 'T ain't fixed up yet, but I'll hev it 'tended t' rightaway," and he led the men to the upper floor.
At the supper table that evening Roger recalled the arrival of the twostrangers in the stage, and remarked casually to his uncle that Mr.Crownheart had some one at his hotel at last.
"I saw them come in and showed them where to go," said Roger, detailingthe circumstances.
"I wonder what they want?" remarked Mr. Kimball, in a musing tone."Don't seem 's ef any railroad 'd run out here, yet ye say they hed asurveyor's three-legged contraption with 'em, Roger. Wa'al, I don'tknow's it concerns me any, 'less they want t' buy some a' my land, so'sI could git money t' meet thet ole mortgage 'ith. I've got a hardscrabble ahead a' me," and the farmer's face took on a worried look,just as on the night when he received the letter containing the badnews about the loss of his savings.
Yet, though Mr. Kimball did not know it, the arrival of the twostrangers was destined to be of considerable concern and importance tohim, and that not very far distant.