II
The next morning when Red awoke,arrows of gold were shooting throughthe holes in the old barn, and outside, the birdlife, the twittering and chirping, the fluentwhistle and the warble, the cackle and thepompous crow, were in full chorus.
"Where am I at, this time?" said he, ashe took in the view. "Oh, I remember!" andhis heart leapt. "I'm in my own home, bythe Lord!"
He went down to the brook and washed,drying hands and face on the silk neckerchief,which is meant for use as well as for decoration.
In the meantime, Miss Mattie hadawakened, with a sense of something delightful athand, the meaning of which escaped her forthe time. And then she remembered, andsprang out of bed like a girl. She went tothe window, threw open the shutters and letthe stirring morning air flow in. This hadbeen her habit for a long time. The windowfaced away from the road, and no one couldsee who was not on Miss Mattie's own premises.
But this morning Red had wanderedaround. Stopping at the rose bushes hepicked a bud.
"That has the real old-time smell," he said,as he held it to his nose. "Sweetbriars aregood, and I don't go back on 'em, but theyain't got the fram these fellers have."
Bud in hand he walked beneath MissMattie's windows, and he was the first thing hereye fell upon.
Her startled exclamation made him look upbefore she had time to withdraw.
"Hello there!" he called joyfully. "Howdo you open up this day? You look prettywell!" he added with a note of admiration.Miss Mattie had the wavy hair which is neverin better order than when left to its owndevices. Her idea of coiffure was not the mostbecoming that could have been selected, asshe felt that a "young" style of hair dressingwas foolish for a single woman of her years.Now, with the pretty soft hair flying, hereyes still humid with sleep, and a touch ofcolor in her face from the surprise, relievedagainst the fleecy shawl she had thrown abouther shoulders, she was incontestably both adiscreet and pretty picture. Yet Miss Mattiecould not forget the bare feet and night-gown,although they were hidden from masculineeyes by wood and plaster, and she wasembarrassed. Still, with all the super-sensitivefancies, Miss Mattie had a strong back-boneof New England common-sense. Sheanswered that she felt very well indeed, and, tocover any awkwardness, inquired what he hadin his hand.
"Good old rose," replied Red. "Old-timesmeller--better suited to you than to me--ketch!"
At the word he tossed it, and Miss Mattiecaught it dexterously. Red had anexceedingly keen eye for some things, and he noticedthe certainty of the action. He hatedfumblers. "A person can do things right if they'vegot minds that work," was one of his petsayings. "'Taint the muscles at all--it's in thehead, and I like the kind of head that's in useall the time." Therefore this small affair madean impression on him.
"Why, you could be a baseball player," said he.
"I used to play with Joe, when I was agirl," said Miss Mattie, smiling. "I alwaysliked boy's play better than I did girl's. Joetaught me how to throw a ball, too. He saidhe wouldn't play with me unless I learned notto 'scoop it,' girl fashion. I suppose you willbe wanting breakfast?" There was a hint ofsarcasm in the doubt of the inquiry.
"That's what I do!" said Red. "Youmust just hustle down and get things toboiling, or I'll throw bricks through the windows.I've been up for the last two hours."
"Why! I don't believe it!" said Miss Mattie.
"No more do I, but it seems like it,"replied Red. "Don't you want the fire started?Come down and open up the house."
When Miss Mattie appeared at the door, inhe strode with an armful of wood, droppingit man-fashion, crash! on the floor.
"Skip out of the way!" said he. "I'll showyou how to build a fire!"
The early morning had been the mostdesolate time to Miss Mattie. As the day warmedup the feeling of loneliness vanished, perhapsto return at evening, but not then with thesame absoluteness as when she walked aboutthe kitchen to the echo of her own footstepsin the morning.
Now the slamming and the banging whichaccompanied Red's energetic actions rang inher ears most cheerily. She even found arelish in the smothered oath that heraldedthe thrust of a splinter in his finger. Itwas very wicked, but it was also very muchalive.
Red arose and dusted off his knees. "Nowwe're off!" he said as the fire began to roar."What's next?"
"If you'd grind the coffee, Will?" she suggested.
"Sure! Where's the hand organ?"
He put the mill between his knees, andconverted the beans to powder, to the tune of"Old dog Tray" through his nose, which MissMattie found very amusing.
She measured out the coffee, one spoonfulfor each cup, and one for the pot. Redwatched her patiently, and when she hadfinished, he threw in the rest of the contents ofthe mill-drawer. "I like it fairly strong," saidhe in explanation.
"Now, Will!" protested Miss Mattie."Look at you! That will be as bitter as boneset!"
"Thin her up with milk and she'll be allright," replied Red.
"Well, such wasteful ways I never did see.Nobody'd think you were a day over fifteen."
"I'm not," said Red stoutly, "and,"catching her chin in his hand and turning her faceup toward him--"Nobody'd put your scoremuch higher than that neither, if they trustedto their eyes this morning."
The compliment hit so tender a place thatMiss Mattie lacked the resolution to tear itout, besides, it was so honest that it soundedmuch less like a compliment than a plainstatement of fact. She bent hastily over the fire."I'm glad I look young, Will," she said softly.
"So'm I!" he assented heartily. "What'sthe sense in being old, anyhow? I'm aslimber and good for myself as ever I was, in spiteof my forty years."
"You're not _forty_ years old!" exclaimedMiss Mattie. "You're joking!"
"Nary joke--forty round trips from flyingsnow to roses since I hit land, Mattie--why,you were only a little girl when I lefthere--don't you remember? You and your folkscame to see us the week before I left. I gota thrashing for taking you and Joe to themillpond, and helping you to get good and wet.The thrashing was one of the things that gaveme a hankering for the West. Very liberalman with the hickory, father. Spare theclothes and spoil the skin was his motto. Heused to make me strip to the waist--phee-hew!Even a light breeze rested heavy on my backwhen dad got through with me--say, Mattie,perhaps I oughtn't to say so, now that he'sgone, but I don't think that's the proper wayto use a boy, do you?"
"No, I don't," said Miss Mattie. "Yourfather meant well, but his way was useless andcruel."
"I've forgiven him the whole sweep," saidRed. "But damn me! If I had a boy Iwouldn't club the life out of him--I'd try toreason with him first, anyhow. Makes a boyas ugly as anybody else to get the hide whaledoff his back for nothing--once in a while heneeds it. Boy that's got any life in him getsto be too much occasionally and then awarming is healthful and nourishing. Lord!You'd think I was the father of my countryto hear me talk, wouldn't you? If somebody'dwrite a book, 'What Red Saunders don'tknow about raising children' it would be fullof valuable information--how's that breakfastcoming on?"
"All ready--sit right down, Will."
"Go you!" cried Red, and incautiouslyflung himself upon one of the kitchen chairs,which collapsed instantly and dropped him tothe floor.
"Mercy on us! Are you hurt?" cried MissMattie, rushing forward.
"Hurt?" said Red. "Try it!--Just jumpup in the air and sit on the floor where youare now, and see if you get hurt! Oh, no!I'm not hurt, but I'm astonished beyondmeasure, like the man that tickled the mule.I'll take my breakfast right here--shouldn'twonder a bit if the floor went back on me andlanded me in the cellar--no sir! I won't getup! Hand me the supplies, I know when I'mwell off. If you want to eat breakfast withme come sit on the floor. I'm not going tohave my spine pushed through the top of myhead twice in the same day."
"Will! You are the most ridiculousperson I ever did see!" said Miss Mattie, andshe laughed till she cried in sheerlight-heartedness. "But there's a chair you cantrust--come on now."
"Well, if you'
ll take your solemn oath thatthis one has no moustache to deceive me,"said Red doubtfully. "It looks husky--well,I'll try it--Hooray! She didn't give an inch.This kind of reminds me of the time JimmyHendricks came back from town and walkedoff the edge of the bluff in the dark. It justhappened that Old Scotty Ferguson's cabinwas underneath him. Jim took most of theroof off with him as he went in. He satawhile to figure out what was trumps, havingcome a hundred and fifty feet too fast to domuch thinking. Then, 'Hello!' he yells.Old Scotty was a sleeper from 'way back, butthis woke him up.
"'Hello!' says he. 'Was'er matter?'
"Jim saw he wasn't more than half awakeyet, so he says, 'Why, I was up on the bluffthere, Scotty, and seeing it was such a shortdistance I thought I'd drop in!'
"'Aw ri',' grunted Scotty. 'Make y'self t'home,' and with that he rolls over.
"Jim couldn't wait for morning, and thoughhis leg was pretty badly sprained, he made thetrip all the way round the trail and woke usup to tell us how he'd gone throughFerguson's roof and the old man asked him to makehimself at home. Next morning there wasScotty out in front of his cabin, his thumbs inhis vest holes, looking up.
"'What's the matter, Scotty?' says I.
"'Well, I wisht you'd tell me what in thename of God went through that roof!' says he.
"I swallered a laugh cross-ways and put ona serious face. 'Must have been a rock,' says I.
"'Rock nothin'!' says he. 'If it had beena rock 'twould have stayed in the cabin,wouldn't it! Well, there ain't the first blastedthing of any shape nor description in there butthe hole--you can go in and look for yourself.'
"It cost Scotty one case of rye to make usforget those circumstances."
"I should have thought the man would bekilled, striking on the roof that way," saidMiss Mattie.
"Oh, no! Roof was made of quaking-aspsaplings, just about strong enough to breakhis fall. Scotty was the sleeper, though! Itwasn't hardly natural the way that man couldpound his ear through thick and thin. Hehad quite a surprising time of it once. He'dbeen prospecting 'round the Ruby refractoryore district and he came out at Hank Cutter'ssaw-mill, just at sun-down. Hank's place wasfull of gold rushers, so Old Scotty thoughthe'd sleep out-doors in peace and quiet. Hediscovered some big boxes, that Hank wasmaking for ore bins for the new mill, and asthe ground was kind of damp from athunder-shower they had that day, he spreads hisblanket inside the box and goes to sleep; orebins have to be smooth and dust tight, so itwasn't a bad shanty.
"Well, there came a jar and waked him up.The box was rolling a little, and going along,going along forty mile an hour. Scotty lit amatch and found he was in a kind of bigtunnel but the wall was flying by so fast, hecouldn't make out just what kind of a tunnelit was. Now, he'd gone to sleep in peace andquiet on a side hill, and to wake up and findhimself boat-riding in a tunnel was enoughto surprise anybody. First he pinchedhimself to see if it was Hank's pie, or a cold fact,found it was a fact, then he lit another matchand leaned over and looked at the black waterunderneath, but this made the box tip so itscart him and he settled down in the bottomagain. He didn't try to think--what was theuse? No man living could have figured thingsout with the few facts Scotty had before him.All of a sudden the box made a rush and shotout into the air, and Scotty felt they werefalling. 'God sakes!' he says to himself.'What's next, I wonder?' Then they hit thewater below with a ker-flap that nearlytelescoped Scotty and sent the spray flying. Afterthat they went along smooth again. 'Well,'says Scotty, 'I don't know where I am, norwho I am, nor what's happened, nor who's it,nor nothing about this game. So far I ain'tbeen hurt, though, and I might just as welllie down and get a little more rest.'
"It was broad daylight when he woke upagain, and a man was looking into the box.'Hello, pardner!' he says. 'I hope you'vehad a pleasant journey--do you always travelthis way?'
"Scotty raised up and found his craft wasaground--high and dry--no water within ahundred feet of it. On one side was quite alittle town.
"'Say,' says he, 'could I trouble you to tellme where I am, friend?'
"'You're at Placerville,' answers the other.
"'Placerville!' yells Scotty, 'and I went tosleep at Cutter's Mill, sixty-five miles fromhere!--what are you giving us, man?'
"'I'm putting it to you straight,' says thestranger. 'Take a look around you.'
"Scotty looked and there was all kinds ofwreckage, from a dead beef critter to a wheelbarrow.
"'What in nation's all this?' says he.
"'Washout,' says the man. 'Cloud burstup on the divide--worst we've everhad--your box is about high water mark--you seethere was water enough for awhile--I reckonyou're about the only thing that came throughalive.'
"'Well, wouldn't that knock you?' says Scotty.
--"Whilst the rest of the folk at the millwas taking to the high ground for their lives,with the water roaring and tearing throughthe gulch, Scotty had peacefully gone off inhis little boat, down the creek, and instead ofgoing over the rapids, where he'd have beendone, for all his luck, the box ambles throughthe flume they was building for the new mill.Of course there was the jounce over the tailrace, but that hadn't hurt him much, and after,he rocked in the cradle of the deep, until hegot beached at Placerville.
"'Come along, friend,' says Scotty to thefeller, 'you and me are going to have a littledrink on this, if it is the last act.' And Ireckon probably they made it two, for whenScotty got back again he was in a conditionthat made everybody believe that he'd onlyguessed at the story he told. But they foundout afterward it was a solemn fact. Mattie,give us some more coffee."
Thus abruptly recalled to Fairfield, MissMattie started up.
"Well, Will, it does seem as if that was adangerous country to live in," said she.
"Oh, not so awful!" said Red. "Just asmany people die here as they do there--thisworld's a dangerous place to live in, whereveryou strike it, Mattie."
"That's so," said she, thoughtfully.
"And now," said Red, pushing back hischair, "it's time I got to work and left you todo the housework undisturbed."
"What are you going to do, Will?"
"First place, there's fences and things tobe tinkered up, I see. I suppose a millionairelike me ought to hire those things done, butI'd have measles of the mind if I sat arounddoing nothing."
"I have been wanting to get the place ingood order for some time," said Miss Mattie,"but what with the money I had to spend forthis and that, and not being able to getMr. Joyce to come in for a day's work when Iwanted him, it's gone on, until there is a gooddeal of wrack to it."
"We'll wrack it t'other way round in notime--got any tools here?"
"Out in the barn is what's left of father'stools--people have borrowed 'em and forgotto return 'em, and they've rusted or beenlost until I'm afraid there ain't many of 'emleft."
"Well, I'll get along to-day somehow, andlater on we'll stock up--want any help aroundthe house?"
"Thank you, no, Will."
"Then I'm off."
It was almost with a feeling of terror thatMiss Mattie beheld him root up the fence.Her idea of repairing was to put in a pickethere and there where it was most needed;Red's was to knock it all flat first, and set itup in A1 condition afterward. So, in twohours' time he straightened up and snappedthe sweat from his brow, beholding the slainpickets prone on the grass with thoroughsatisfaction. Yet he felt tired, for the day wasalready hot with a moist and soakingsea-coast heat, to which the plainsman wasunaccustomed. A three-quarter-grown boy passedby, lounging on the seat of a farm waggon.
"Hey!" hailed Red. The boy stopped andturned slowly around.
"Yes, sir," he answered courteously enough.
"Want a job?" said Red.
"Well, I dunno," replied the boy. He wasmuch astonished at the appearance of hisinterrogator, and he was a cautious NewEngland boy to boot.
"_You_ don't know?" retorted Red. "Well,"with some sarcasm, "d'ye suppose I couldfind out at the post-office?"
The boy looked at Red with a twinkle in h
iseye, and a comical drawing of his long mouth.
"I calc'late if you cud fin' out anyweres,'twould be there," said he.
Red laughed. He had noticed the busypost-mistress rushing out of her store towaylay anyone likely to have information on anysubject, a stream of questions proceeding fromher through the door.
"Say, you got anything particular to do?"
"No, sir--leastways th'ain't no hurry about it."
"Can I buy stuff to make a fence with,around here?"
"Yes, sir--Mister Pettigrew's got all kindsof buildin' material at his store--two mile overyonder," pointing with the whip.
"You drive over there for me, and getsome--just like this here--pickets and postsand whatever you call them long pieces, andI'll make it right with you."
"Yes, sir--how much will I get?"
"Oh, tell him to fill the waggon up withit, and I'll send back what I don'twant--hustle, now, like a good boy; I want to getshut of this job; I liked it better before I begun."
When his Mercury had speeded on thejourney at a faster gait than Red would havegiven him credit for, the architect strodedown to the blacksmith's shop. There was alarger crowd than usual around the forge, asthe advent of the stranger had gotten intothe wind, and the village Vulcan was a personwho not only looked the whole world in theface, but no one of the maiden ladies ofFairfield could have excelled his interest inlooking the whole world as much in the insidepocket as possible. The blacksmith wasemphatically a gossip, as well as a hardworking,God-fearing man.
"Say, there he comes now, Mr. Tuttle!"cried one of the loungers, and nudged thesmith to look.
"Well, let him come!" retorted the smith,testily, jamming a shoe in the fire withunnecessary force; as a matter of fact, he wasembarrassed. The loungers huddled togetherfor moral support, as the big cow-man loomedthrough the doorway.
"Good morning, friends!" said he.
"Good morning, sir!" replied theblacksmith, rubbing his hands on his apron. "Niceday, sir?"
"For the sake of good fellowship, I'll say'yes' to that," responded Red. "But if youwant my honest opinion on the subject, it'sdamn hot."
"'Tis that," assented the smith, and asilence followed.
"Say, who's your crack fence-builderaround here?" asked Red. "The man thatcan make two pickets grow where only onegrew before and do it so easy that it's apleasure to sit and look at him?"
"Hey?" inquired the smith, not preciselygetting the meaning of the address.
"Why, I've got a fence to build," exclaimedRed. "And now I want some help--want itso bad, I'll produce to the extent of three aday and call it a day from now 'till sixo'clock--any takers here? Make your bets while thelittle ball rolls."
The loungers understood the general driftof this and pricked up their ears, as did theblacksmith. "Guess one of the boys will helpyou," said the latter.
"Well, who's it?" asked Red, glancing atthe circle of faces. Three dollars a day wasenormous wages in that part of the country.Nobody knew just what to say.
"Oh, well!" cried Red, "let's everybodyrun--I reckon I can find something to do forthe five of you--are you with me?"
"Yes, sir," they said promptly.
"Can I borrow a hammer or so off you, oldman?" questioned Red of the smith.
"Certainly, sir," returned the latter heartily."Take what you want."
"Much obliged--and the gate hinges areout of whack--Miss Saunders' place, youknow--come over and take a squint at 'emin the near by-and-by, will you? May as wellfix it up all at once--come on, boys!"
It was thus that the greatest enterprise thatFairfield had seen in many a day wasundertaken. Miss Mattie was simply astounded asthe army bore down upon the house.
"Whatever in the world is Cousin Willdoing?" said she; but resting strong in the faiththat it was necessarily all right, she wascontent to wait for dinner and an explanation.Not so the post-mistress. The agonies ofunrequited curiosity the worthy womansuffered that morning until she at last summonedup her resolution and asked the smith plumpout and out what it all meant, would have tobe experienced to be appreciated. And thesmith kept her hanging for a while, too,saying to himself in justification, that it wasn'tright the way that old gal had to get intoeverybody's business. The smith was likesome of the rest of us; he could see througha beam if it was in his own eye.