"Go Yimville Saturday attend court proceedings re discharge of Intermountain General Supply Company from bankruptcy Roncavour. Matador our attorney Wetherby Carmen."
"Go Yimville Saturday attend court proceedings re discharge of Intermountain General Supply Company from bankruptcy Roncavour. Matador our attorney Wetherby Carmen."
He sat down on the edge of his sample case and said aloud, "Well, if that isn't rotten luck! What in the deuce does Roncavour mean?"
He rummaged through his grip and found the firm's code book and interpreted therefrom, "'Important to show courtesy for future business relations when credit fully restored.' And 'Matador' means 'Introduce yourself to' and 'Carmen' means 'Have notified him you are coming.'"
"Me the diplomat!" said Jimmy with a sigh, now opening a time table. And again he was not particularly happy, because Yimville was a mountain town up in another county, and the sole train he could take with any degree of comfort was one that would land him at his destination at one o'clock. A returning passenger train at 4:30 in the evening would bring him back tohis junction but it meant the loss of an entire day. It was strange how much more important time had become to him—that is—how much keener he was to return to New York at the earliest possible moment. He had even begun the formation of a scheme whereby he had hoped to steal two whole days out of his trip, and that, too, without the knowledge of his firm. Such things have been done now and then by gentlemen of the road.
"The only thing that can save me from going up there is for the snow to fall twice as fast," said Jimmy, and looked hopefully out through the window of the sample room. The outside air was filled with big, gently falling flakes, and already the street was deeply paved by its heavy blanket. Groups of boys released from school were pelting one another gleefully, and Jimmy observed that the snow on the pavement was already high enough to cover their knees. A big electric sweeper was struggling to keep the tram lines clear. Down past the corner he could glimpse a tiny section of a park. The trees therein were like white pyramids, their branches bending heavily beneath the weight. On the roof of the building opposite the hotel a massof telephone wires, each with its little drift piled up as if the air had been rendered motionless, was being scrutinized by a lineman on whose legs were spurs for climbing poles. The man appeared to be quite anxious. Jimmy's spirits rose bouyantly, finding in each view some hopeful sign.
"Of course they'll keep the main railways open," he remarked, "and if it blocks these branch lines I can have a good excuse for not going up there. And it'll be all the better if the wires to Yimville fall down, because it'll back up the account of the storm that I'll hand in as an explanation why I didn't go. It's a good old world, after all!"
Indeed he passed a happy evening, playing billiards with another drummer who was a very good cue, and went hopefully to bed. He awoke hopefully, and through his bedroom window saw that the snow was still falling and that it was deep. Very deep! At the breakfast table the headlines of the morning paper announced that traffic was disorganized for the time being, and that the wires in many directions were down. Also that by strenuous efforts and the aid of relays of snow plows the main lines of railwayshad been kept open, although timetables were slightly confused. And then after smoking his morning cigar and exchanging jokes with anyone who looked pleasant and happy, he inquired at the desk as to the possibilities of reaching Yimville.
He loitered and whistled and hummed while the clerk phoned to the station.
"All right," said the clerk, smiling as if bestowing glad news. "Line up that way will be clear by noon. Wires are down, but that doesn't matter to you, I know. You're still in luck!"
Jimmy's hopes went smash, and resignedly he turned away. He was in for it, and was too conscientious to deliberately lie to his firm about the impossibility of getting through. Promptly on time for his train he was at the station and checked his baggage through to the "next jump," thus relieving himself of impediments on this diplomatic side step of his to Yimville. He boarded the train, but finding no one who looked very approachable, and feeling eager for companionship, walked through its entire length of three coaches, without discovering a single person he had ever seen. Indeed, the coaches were nearly empty, as if traffic werebadly disrupted. The train caught up with a snow plow working through great drifts in a cutting, and had to wait Jimmy got out and watched proceedings with great interest. There was something fascinating about the way those two locomotives drew back and then charged the snow drifts furiously, and stirred up a miniature storm of white. Also, the storm had ceased, and once the sun broke through for a few minutes. Jimmy was glad for this, because now that a storm could no longer work in his favor, he preferred everything to clear up. Sunshine fitted his temperament. It was a good old sun, after all!
He did not even complain when his train arrived at Yimville a full hour late. He had never been there before. It was a pretty place, he thought, with its white hills all around it, and its red station under a roof that looked to be made of white stuff three feet in thickness, and a town omnibus with fat driver who waddled importantly, and a half dozen loafers drawling comments. He was the sole passenger to descend and was starting toward the omnibus when accosted by a man in a full coat who said, "This way, sir. Mr. Wetherby couldn't come tomeet you, as he is makin' a talk up there now. We wasn't any too sure you'd get here, on account of this plaguey snow fall, but he sent me down to make sure that if you did you'd get to the court house on the jump. Right around the corner of the depot is our old bob sled."
"That was decent of Wetherby. Hadn't expected to be met. Good old Wetherby!" said Jimmy, climbing into the rear seat of the sleigh and pulling a comfortable lap robe around his legs. A ripping team of bays, sturdy, and eager to be off, fully occupied the driver's attention. The sleigh bells sang a tune to thrill the blood. The steam from the horses' nostrils blew out in regular spurts, ending in rhythmic and quickly dissipating clouds. Jimmy Gollop enjoyed it all, and was glad he had come. He leaned back and admired the road that stretched for a mile and a half between the railway station and town.
"Some town!" commented Jimmy with enthusiasm born of delight in admiration for clean, well kept, modern houses. "And—Hello!—Pretty good little stores, too. And there's certain to be a town square. Whole town looks on it of course. Always that way in county seats. Square, court house in the middle, lot of trees.Hitching posts, maybe, with a chain around the square. Lot of farmer's teams tied there. Some place, all right!"
And his predictions were not far wrong, as was proven when the horses came jingling out into the streets facing the square, the court house, and the teams tied to the hitching posts. There were many of them, the horses blanketed and unblanketed, drowsing where they stood. There were stores and shops with a few pedestrians moving about their business—a sleepy panorama of winter life in a nice, clean, comfortable little town.
The sleigh halted with a flourish in front of the court house steps and two men rushed out as if astonished, then hastened to solicitously welcome Jimmy, who was somewhat puzzled by their demeanor.
"Mighty glad to see you, Judge!" declared the one who first clutched his hand. "They told us down at the station that the railroad up to Princetown from Media City was completely blocked. So we had given you up. But you can see how interested in what you have to say the folks around Yimville are when you get inside. Yes siree! Got the court house full.Seems as if we had every farmer from forty miles around here, and——" he stopped and chuckled loudly—"every farmer's wife and every spinster! The women are certainly mighty anxious to know how you stand on votes for 'em! Talk about home industries for the men, and the usual bunk about protective tariff, but—go easy about national votes for women, Judge!—Go easy. The men folks don't want it and they dassn't say so for fear they'll get hit over the head with a maul or a fryin' pan at home. Get me? If you say yes, that you're a woman's righter out and out, you'll secretly lose the men's votes, but catch the women's. If you say you're against 'em, Judge, it's most likely you're a plumb goner because the women'll vote against you, and all the men that's for it'll vote against you, and all them that dassn't do anything without askin' permission from their wives'll hop you, and others won't count. So go easy, Judge! Go easy! Keep on the fence as if you were a rooster that had got frozen on the top rail. Bend a little this way and a little that, so's to make both sides think you're for 'em. Say a heap that means nothin' at all! Hurry up. They're waitin'!"
At first Jimmy was half-paralyzed by misunderstanding. Next he was half-hypnotized by the voluble man's stream of rapid talk. Then his eye wandered to a big sign on a board wired up to a pillar of the court house entrance, where he read:
"GRAND PUBLIC RALLY! The distinguished Jurist, Hon. James Woodworth-Granger, Judge of the Fourth District Court of Princetown, will on Saturday, December 1st, address the voters of Yimville on the issues of the campaign. TURNOUT! TURNOUT! and hear our next governor on vital issues for the state welfare. COME ONE! COME ALL! EVERY MAN AND WOMAN WELCOME! Time 2 o'clock P. M. sharp! Place, County Court House. DON'T FORGET!"
"GRAND PUBLIC RALLY! The distinguished Jurist, Hon. James Woodworth-Granger, Judge of the Fourth District Court of Princetown, will on Saturday, December 1st, address the voters of Yimville on the issues of the campaign. TURNOUT! TURNOUT! and hear our next governor on vital issues for the state welfare. COME ONE! COME ALL! EVERY MAN AND WOMAN WELCOME! Time 2 o'clock P. M. sharp! Place, County Court House. DON'T FORGET!"
He digested this in a flash, and comprehended the situation. "But—but—" he said, "Wetherby was to settle that affair of the Intermountain General Supply Company to-day and——"
"Oh, that was settled this forenoon, Judge," soothingly explained the other welcomer. "Court got it out of the way so's the court room could be open for the speech making this afternoon. Hello! Hear 'em? That's the Yimville Silver Comet Band. Bill—I mean Mister Perry—has given the band the tip you've got here. Come on! Now's the time!"
Any man less jocular, less nimble witted, and self-possessed than Mr. James Gollop, would have then and there declared himself, and his identity; but Mr. James Gollop's wits and humor, running in team and usually at a gallop, were now racing like lightning. It was too late to be a diplomat in behalf of his firm's future business with the Intermountain people; and this boob of a country judge, pompous, slow, egotistical, had been carrying a hatchet for one Jim Gollop ever since he had suffered through the peculiar likeness to this unmentionable candy drummer and—Jimmy suddenly grinned, buttoned his coat, cleared his throat and in ponderous dignity bent stiffly forward and said, "I am here! I am at your disposal! It will afford me great pleasure to express my views to such an attentive audience. Let us make haste!"
The distinguished Judge, as impersonated by that rank and, for the moment, highly irresponsible, drummer, was led up a broad flight of stone stairs and two men opened two big green baize doors in front of him. The Silver Cornet Band played "See the Conquering Hero" with so much zest that trombones cracked, clarionets made frantic goose-notes and the cornets sounded as if made of anything other than silver. The commodious court room was, despite the outer inclemency of road and weather, packed with men and women who stood up and yelled a welcome that for the moment dazed the impostor; but he recovered his nerve and mischievousness instantly, and no actor ever fell into his part more completely than did he. The Judge was ponderous, but Jimmy went him one better. The Judge "threw a chest" when he had an audience, but Jimmy swelled until his buttons strained. The Judgewalked like the late Henry Irving playing Mathias in The Bells, but Jimmy's feet dragged far more lugubriously. Jimmy had observed that the Judge assumed what is known as the "grave judicial" or otherwise "frozen face," and he therefore looked as much like a wooden image as was possible. Not immortal Caesar dead and turned to clay could have looked more claylike, for Jimmy looked like a whole brickyard. He moved austerely up the main aisle, now and then giving to right and left an imitation of the Judge's peculiarly stiff and condescending bow, mounted the platform, patronizingly shook hands with those thereon who hastened to greet him, and then, when the band subsided for want of wind, advanced to the front of the stage and was about to speak when he remembered the Judge's procedure and deliberately buttoned his coat, shot his cuffs, barked a stentorian "Ahem!" and poured himself a glass of water which he drank with almost painful deliberation, still affecting the Judge's mannerisms.
"Fellow citizens, I stand before you this afternoon," began Jimmy, in the hush, "first to apologize for my delay in reaching your welcomingand friendly greetings which, as you who have traveled so far on this momentous occasion, may appreciate as being unavoidable. Knowing that you would be here regardless of winter's snows and winds to hear me expound my views, I can assure you that had it been necessary to come on snow shoes to prevent your loyalty to me from being in vain, I should have made the attempt, and perhaps like the youth who cried 'Excelsior,' might last have been seen plodding through the shades of night into your Alpine fastness, still striving to reach you."
Unwittingly he had made a flattering allusion to the locality, whose residents firmly believed it a rival of the Alps in scenic glories and hence he was well applauded.
"Didn't know the Judge was such a good campaigner," whispered one of the local politicians to his neighbor.
"That's the mush for 'em," assented the other.
Mr. James Gollop, beginning to feel more thoroughly at home, was now thinking with ease and adroitness. Needless to note that he was mentally grinning.
"Inasmuch as I arrived so unavoidably late, and that the early darkness of winter renders theroads so difficult for those who have long journeys to make, I shall somewhat curtail the remarks I have in mind," he said, pompously, and took another long drink of water.
"The great issue before the nation to-day, my fellow citizens, is Tariff Reform." And then he drawled and droned through a lot of stock arguments familiar to every man, woman and child in America, but in the meantime kept a furtive eye on the clock at the end of the court room, and gleefully observed that the afternoon was waning, and that outside it threatened an early twilight, intensified by a new fall of snow. He decided that it was time to get in his precious work of assisting the Judge's campaign with the final straws.
"Now, my friends," he said, confidentially and observing that his audience was growing restless, "I have given you the customary platform remarks concerning tariff and free trade; but I feel that I am in the hands of my friends, so I shall tell you that personally it doesn't matter a hang to me whether we have free trade or protection or tariff reform, or any of that wash!"
A bomb shell dropped from a Zeppelin could have had but little more effect. Everyone sat upand gasped; particularly the two or three local politicians on the platform who half arose from their seats to protest.
"All I care about, to tell the honest truth," said the ingenious Jimmy, "is to get elected to the fat job of governing this state. It pays well, and I, as well as you, are aware that in addition there are some few pickings and perquisites which are well worth having."
Somebody in the audience cried, "Shame! Shame!" and a few more hissed; but Jimmy quelled the rising storm by holding up his hand for silence.
"Listen and have patience, My Friends!" he appealed, oracularly. "Other candidates from time immemorial have come to you with a lot of talk, but I am the first one who has ever dared to be honest with you. Isn't that true?"
Some of his party adherents, doing their best to uphold him to the last, loudly assented, and yelled, "Give the Judge a chance to finish! Let him finish!"
In tense silence and expectancy they settled back in their seats.
"Politics are to me like the law," he said, thoughtfully. "All bunkum! A man comes toa lawyer to get a tiny agreement drawn that if he had the brains of a cow he could draw just as well himself. The lawyer looks profoundly intellectual, terribly wise, considerably puzzled as if this document might require a further course in a law school to be able to handle, and so forth, but I tell you, My Friends, that down in his innermost mind all he is thinking is, 'How much can I get out of this gazabo for this simple little job?' and then he taps the poor victim for all he thinks the latter will stand, pockets the fee, and after his client has gone, hands a memorandum to a four-dollar-a-week clerk and says, 'Jones, fill up a contract form with that stuff and mail it to this John Doe person in Squashville.'"
The crowd by this time was hopelessly divided, some believing the orator facetious, and the others for the first time in their lives having sympathy with a lawyer and believing they had for the first time met one who told the truth.
"Most judges, My Friends, are elected to the bench because their fellow lawyers think they will prove easy marks after they get there, and not because they are supposed to be particularly clever in the law. The best judge is the one that whacks his decisions up so that Lawyer Skinemwins this week, and Lawyer Squeezehard the next, and Lawyer Gouge the next, and so on. If he can satisfy the lawyers he becomes renowned, and as far as the litigants are concerned, they don't matter at all. If they had any sense they wouldn't resort to the law anyway. Any fool knows that!"
Wetherby got up behind him, red faced and angry, to protest, but the crowd howled him down. And Wetherby, muttering, stormed indignantly out of the court room. Jimmy observed that he did so by a corner entrance near at hand and saw through the door that had been left open that it led into a cloak room and thence out to the street. He noted this with satisfaction. It increased his daring. Also by now it was getting dusk and someone turned on the electric lights.
A tall, angular, mannish sort of woman, raw-boned, shrill, got up in about the center of the audience, and said, "You've been honest I take it, in what you said this far. But you don't dast to be honest, I'll bet, if I ask you a plain out and out question, Mister?"
"You ask it and see if I'm not," retorted Jimmy combatively.
"Then what's your honest opinion about votes for women? That's what interests a lot of us women more than all you've been talking about. What about general national suffrage, eh?"
The woman sat down and immediately around her was a group that vociferously and shrilly applauded, and Jimmy knew at once that this must be the militant suffragette party of that vicinity in full force and that it had come to try to put the Judge on record.
"First," he said, once more assuming great pomposity, "may I ask the lady who just spoke, whether she does, or does not represent any authoritative body of women of this grand and noble state?"
"You should know that, Judge. Don't pretend you don't; because you have seen me at a dozen meetings before, when I asked the same question and you hemmed and hawed, and straddled the fence and gave no answer at all that meant anything at all. You know well enough that I am the President of the Women's Suffrage Society of this state, and that sooner or later you've got to answer my question. Are you going to do it to-day, or do we have to keep following you?"
Jimmy looked carefully over to a chair at the edge of the stage where, on his entry, he had deposited his hat and coat despite the invitation of one of his supposed henchmen to hang them in the cloak room. Almost involuntarily he edged closer toward that chair before making his reply, and took time to drink another glass of water.
"Since that question has been so repeatedly asked, and hitherto, I admit, evaded, I shall now endeavor to make myself completely, plainly, and fully understood on that subject," he said, impressively, and waited until in the silence nothing could be heard save suppressed breathings.
"As I understand it, I am asked what is my personal opinion concerning the expediency and the justice of granting women of majority age the right of franchise in both national as well as state elections. Am I right?"
"That's it, precisely," came the voice of the woman who had asked the question, and there was a considerable note of triumph in her tone as if at last she had run her fox to earth.
"Then I say," said Jimmy, slowly, and emphatically, "that it is my honest opinion thatwomen should do as their mothers before them did, stay home, work, and raise their families and keep out of politics. Stop! Stop! Let me say what I have to say! I can't make myself heard if you hiss and yell!"
Some of them were on their feet. Some of the men applauded. Most of the women hissed; but they slowly settled back to hear him conclude.
"I say that a large majority—a very large majority!—of women don't know enough about politics to vote, and that a big percentage haven't brains enough to vote intelligently for a town dog catcher! And that if I had my way any woman who wanted to vote would be arrested and given six months in an imbecile asylum!"
And then, before anyone could surmise his intention, and in the midst of a wild pandemonium of noise he made a jump for his hat and coat, took a flying leap for the cloak room door, jumped through, bolted it on the inside, and like a flash was out in the street. The noise from the court room he had left behind sounded as if a riot had broken loose. There were shouts, screams, yells, and sundry intimations that a certain part of Yimville's population wantedeither his scalp, or to decorate him with tar and feathers. A boy driving a delivery wagon reduced to sleigh runners was passing by and Jimmy hastily waylaid him.
"Sonny," he said, "I'm in a hurry to get to the railway station to catch the four-thirty train. I've got just five minutes and if you make it for me, you get a five dollar bill."
That boy was a genius of finance. He lost small time in making a decision.
"Hop in, Mister. We'll make it or have a runaway!"
But short as was the delay, it had given time for the crowd in the court house to fairly heave itself into the street. And foremost in the lot charged a tall, angular woman, screaming to her followers, "Come on! Come on! Don't let him get away!"
The boy brought his reins down on the horse's back with a loud thwack and let out a yell for speed. The horse jumped like a sprinter taking off the tape and it was then that the large angry woman who headed the militant section of the state league, seeing that pursuit was futile, found a pile of bricks conveniently left by some repairer and with rather perfect aim let a chunkfly at the retreating orator. It caught him neatly in its passage and although it barely grazed him, nearly knocked him from his seat.
"Wow!" he shouted. "That was a close one!" and then rubbing his scalp, burst into roars of delighted laughter as the mob was left behind. "That woman ought to get out of the bush league and pitch for the New Yorks! Who said a woman could never throw a brick?"
The boy, intent on earning the five, was on his feet and bending over the dash board exhorting his horse into a run. The improvised sleigh was careening madly as it took corners and an occasional bump, and in the last glimpse Jimmy had of the court house square it looked as if a hive of human beings had begun to swarm, or else that a nest of hornets had been so badly disturbed that its occupants were undecided whither to direct their stings. He looked hopefully forward as the station came in sight, expecting to see the train standing there panting after its previous run; but no train was in sight He began to speculate on which way he could turn to escape the tempest of wrath he had aroused in case he had missed the train. He doubted if he could induce the boy to take himto the nearest town, and moreover, had no idea of the distance. Also he doubted if he could escape a mob there, provided the news got through. For once in his life he began to doubt the wisdom of practical jokes.
The boy brought the horse up skating on its heels, by throwing his full weight back on the lines and shouting pacifyingly "Whoa-a-a! Who-oa, Bill!"
Jimmy leaped, out on the platform shouting, "Wait right there, son, till I get some change. I think we're in time and—anyhow, you get the fiver!"
He ran into the station and, finding the window closed, opened the office door. A placid, disinterested young man wearing an eyeshade, who was sitting with his feet on a window desk and reading a novel, looked up at him and said, "Well?"
"Has that four-thirty train gone through?" demanded Jimmy, anxiously.
"Sixteen? Naw! She's off the map as far as I know."
Jimmy's spirits ebbed like mercury in a typhoon.
"And—when will the next train come through?" he asked, striving to speak calmly.
"The next train? That'll be a freight. It's due now from Morgan City. But you won't go on that?"
"Why?" questioned Jimmy, grasping at straws.
"Two reasons. One that she doesn't carry passengers, and the other that she doesn't stop here at all. Just whistles up there by the tank, and goes lobbin' along on her way."
"But—but couldn't you stop her in case of emergency?" asked Jimmy, feeling like a petitioner.
"Only thing I could stop her for would be on an order from the train despatcher," said the agent, with a grin of sympathy. "I'm not the owner of the line, you know. They don't thank me for stoppin' heavy freights on an upgrade such as they have to climb to get through here, just to ask 'em how the weather is where they come from, or what time it is, or to send a message to the engineer's beautiful daughter. Guess you'll have to wait for Number Sixteen, Mister, or, if you're in too big a hurry, hoof it. It's only eighteen miles to the next stop. Sorry!"
And then he yawned as if bored, and deliberately resumed his interrupted reading. Jimmy realized that he was knocking on the locked and unbending doors of an inexorable fate, and backed out. He went outside and hailed his rescuer, who had found a piece of gum that he was extricating from some wrappings that indicated a rather dirty pocket.
"Son, my brave youth, how far, I beseech thee, is it to the nearest town from here?" Jimmy asked.
"On a railroad?" queried the boy, biting off the tip end of the stick of gum and testing its flavor.
"Of course. What good is a town that's not on the railroad?"
"I guess it's about seven miles to Mountain City up to the north, and about eleven to Hargus. Hargus is down south."
Jimmy thought for a moment and then said, winningly, "And do you think you could drive me with old Bill as far as Mountain City?"
"Not on your life! Me drive you there? Humph! What's the matter with Jones? He runs a livery stable. I deliver groceries for the Emporium and—say! Mister!—if they find outI drove you down here for that five dollars I ain't got yet, I'd get fired! Now about that five, did you get change?"
Jimmy appreciated that boy's business sense and gave him a five dollar bill that caused the young man much glee.
"Now," said Jimmy, cajolingly, "if you were to drive me to Mountain City, and I were to give you ten, and you were to go back to the Emporium with a letter I would write them when we got to Mountain City, a letter that would cause them to pat you on the back and maybe make you a clerk in the store; or if they didn't do that and fired you, and I was to get you a nice job somewhere in New York, maybe you might find the way to Mountain City, eh?"
The boy suddenly stopped masticating, and looked at him doubtfully. Jimmy assumed his most seductive grin, took his wallet from his pocket and exposed several bills, and fingered them with something like a caress.
"I could find the way all right, and I guess the roads could be got across somehow, and I'd like to make that money—Gee! I never had that much in my life! But—somehow it don't look square to treat the Emporium that way!"
Suddenly Jimmy was aware of a rumbling and roaring and puffing, and saw the expected freight train approaching. It whistled at the tank, true to form, and Jimmy ran across to the edge of the platform as it came panting along, and stared at it wistfully. He wished that he were expert in boarding trains, and then, as it passed, decided that it must be traveling at a rate of at least a hundred miles an hour, although it was barely doing fifteen. He made a desperate clutch at the rails of the caboose, felt as if his arm had been jerked from its socket and his heels into the air, and then found himself sitting in the middle of the track with his hat some ten or fifteen feet away and a cooling mixture of snow and cinders up his trousers legs. He got up, felt himself over to learn that he was unbroken, and recovered his hat.
"By gee whiz!" he exclaimed. "Never knew it was so hard to hop aboard one of those things before. Hoboes have it on me all right! My education's been neglected."
His solicitous friend, the boy, had come to see if there was anything left of him and said, "Hope you ain't hurted much, Mister? Humph! I could have caught her all right, Ibet you! You don't know how. The minute you catch hold you want to jump. If you wait you can't do nothin'. But I'll say you did look funny, all right, with your heels and your coat tails and your hat all flyin' at onct!"
"Well, I'm glad I amused you, anyway," said Jimmy, cheerfully. "Now about going to Mountain City, where were we? Oh, yes! The Emporium. Would you go if I got their consent—for a ten dollar bill you know?"
The boy brightened visibly.
"If you can get old Wade to say I can, you bet I'll go!" said the boy with marked enthusiasm. "He's got a 'phone, and there's one in the depot. Ask him!"
Jimmy hastened inside as fast as his stiffness would permit and was starting toward the ticket office to make a request for permission to use the 'phone when he happened to glance through the window looking toward the street. An arc light had sprung into being, and—he stopped with a gasp. Down the street was coming a crowd that was evidently in some haste and he recognized its leader. It was a large, bony woman, who strode like a man, and Jimmy thought that shecarried something in her hand, something that he surmised might be a selected missile.
"Good Lord!" he breathed. "If she hit me a clip with a little chunk before, what'll she do with a full-grown brick? Why, it'd be murder I I've got to get away from here if I have to steal the horse and kidnap that boy!"
Being quick in decision and swift in enterprise, and adaptable to sudden emergency, he ran back out with great presence of mind and shouted to the boy, "Come on, son! Get a move on you. Mr. Wade says it's all right and for you to take me as fast as you can. Let's be off before that crowd gets here looking for the train."
The boy barely caught the tail of the sleigh and thus proved that he might have boarded the train; for Jimmy, not waiting for him, had clutched the lines and stirred the restless nag to action by a surreptitious slap with his hand.
"The shortest road is back the way we come," insisted the boy, as Jimmy drove the horse recklessly across the end of the platform and into a road that appeared fortuitously in front of him.
"But I certainly do like this way best," insisted Jimmy, urging the horse to speed. "I've always been fond of this road."
"Well it's a mile outen the way," protested the boy.
"What's a mile to us, eh? You see it's such a nice clean road and it's been so well traveled that it's better than—what? Turn to the left you say? I always thought we went straight ahead here."
"Straight ahead would take us to the slaughter house," objected his guide.
"Oh! I thought the slaughter house was somewhere around the depot," said Jimmy with a grin at his own joke, which was entirely unappreciated by the boy.
The station, with its menace, had by now been left behind in the whirl of snow, and the heavy dusk of twilight. Jimmy was breathing again, and cheerful, having escaped the most imminent peril. The horse was loping steadily up the street as if imbued with the hope of a warm stall in a warm stable.
"Turn to the right! The right! That's the way," insisted the boy, and Jimmy, after a single backward glance to convince him that they had escaped the mob, said, "Son, I don't know these roads as well as you do. Maybe it'd be better if you took the lines. But whatever you do, keepgoing. Mr. Wade says you are to hurry—that is for the first few miles. You see, he's afraid old Bill will catch cold if he's not kept moving, and they tell me that it's an awful thing for a horse to catch cold on a day like this for the want of exercise. Make him hustle!"
And Bill hustled them through the outskirts of the town, and into a road that was fairly good going, and out to where snowladen fields and snow weighted trees were on either hand before Jimmy's compassion swayed him to suggest that after all there was no very great hurry.
"I'm sort of glad of that," commented the boy. "Bill's about winded. He's my friend, and—and I don't like to see him puffin' like that. I'm right glad you'd just as soon slow down. I was worried about Bill."
Jimmy thought about Bovolarapus, and then of Bill, and liked that boy.
"To-night," he said, as he settled himself into his seat, "Bill shall have a box of chocolate caramels for dinner. And—say! son, are you cold?"
"Not much," said the boy, looking up at him with a grin. "Just a little; but I keep thinkingabout that fortune I'm to get and that sort of keeps me warm."
Jimmy opened his overcoat and gathered his driver inside, and pulled up the tattered lap robe and said cheerfully, "Sporting life, this, eh?" But at the same time he was thinking regretfully of his ill-spent afternoon, and more than ever convinced that jests of a public nature were not worth while. And yet, in the midst of his personal discomfort, he did not miss the enjoyment of a chuckle at the thought of what he had left behind, and that fine harvest which the pompous Judge must reap. In fact, he began to find a certain pleasure in his adventure; for the snow stopped, the storm clouds moved restlessly, becoming ever more pallid, and then the newly risen moon broke through and made all his surroundings beautiful.
"The only things I miss," he muttered, "are sleigh bells and—Mary Allen!"
"Mary Allen? Who's she?" The voice of the boy disturbed him.
"Mary Allen," said Jimmy grimly, "is a girl who isn't crazy to vote. She likes horses. Probably she couldn't throw a brick. I've an idea she never had a vote, and that if she had oneshe'd sell it as being the quickest and easiest way to get rid of it. And—I hope to the Lord that Mary Allen never visited Yimville before now, because if she hasn't, I'll do all I can to spare her from ever going there in the future!"
"I can't seem to remember that haystack over there," said the boy, with entire irrelevance, "but there's a house with a light in it, and—maybe we'd best ask if we're on the right road. They'll tell you."
"Right road? Aren't you sure about it?" asked Jimmy, perturbed.
"Well, you see, it looks different with all this snow and—better ask 'em in there, I think."
"You go and ask them."
"I got ter watch old Bill. He runs away sometimes."
"I'll hold him. You ask."
The boy got down and advanced to the house where, after a time, a woman appeared in response to his rapping and then, to point out the way, came to the gate and thence to the road. She pointed with an extended arm to the skyline and gave cautions about land marks at a point where three roads met.
"If you'd taken the first road to the left insteadof the second to the right, down below there, you'd have been on the main track; but you're not more than a half mile out of the way. And——" She stopped, suddenly bent forward, and peered at Jimmy. "Oh, it's you, is it?" she said with a toss of contempt. "You that believes women ain't got sense enough to vote! Oh, I was down to the court house this afternoon and heard you! And what's more, I can tell you it was mighty good for your precious hide that they didn't catch you. If I'd known that it was you that wanted to find the road to Mountain City I'd 'a' bit my tongue off rather than let it tell you anything at all, you old puffed up smart Alec! The only truth you ever told in your life, I'll bet, was when you admitted that all lawyers is a lot of thieves. You, a judge! But let me tell you that the women will get votes, and that when they do you couldn't be elected judge at a chicken show. You're a mean-minded pig of a man with no more manners than a pole cat! That's what the women who heard you to-day think about you!"
And with that she turned, banged the gate, and hastened toward her house where, in turn, she banged the door. Jimmy, who had saidnever a word, but had gradually withered into the farthest corner of his seat, said, "Whew! She likes me all right! I could tell that by what she said."
"Be you the man that made the speech in the court house?" asked the boy, as he climbed into the sleigh and started Bill into action.
"My son," said Jimmy, "I am that very unfortunate man. But you don't care, do you? You don't give a hang about voting, do you?"
"Not to-night," admitted the boy. "All I'm thinkin' about is how I'm to get that ten dollars. It's a lot of money, ten dollars is. And—and," he looked up at his companion rather speculatively, and added in a burst of boyish confidence—"I don't think you're so bad as that woman said, anyhow. I think I like you!"
Jimmy, feeling for the moment rather friendless, vented a fervent "Lord bless you, son! We'll keep on being friends."
It began to seem to Jimmy that he was in for a chapter of accidents and hardships. A snaffle gave away and they had to get out into the deep snow and make repairs with fingers that were cold before the operation was complete. They came to a stretch of unbroken road where thesnow was so deep that he had to climb out and break trail with the drift well above his knees.
They toiled along for another mile then Jimmy decided that it was rather a lonesome place; but philosophized that any place without either a crowd, or Mary Allen, would be lonesome, and then further cheered himself with the reflection that if he had Mary Allen with him he wouldn't miss the crowd, or that if he had a crowd he'd not for a moment miss Mary Allen, all of which made it rather a cheerful if paradoxical world. Now that he had escaped the clutches of the irate militants of Yimville, it wasn't such a bad predicament after all.
"Hello! What's that?" he exclaimed, sitting up with a jerk, as the boy pulled the reins and yelled a loud "Whoa, Bill!"
It seemed as if something had gone awry with the prow of their ship. They climbed out to investigate.
"They's a hame strap busted and Bill's loosin' all his furniture," explained the boy.
They got Bill's rig off to repair it as best they could. Again their fingers got cold and their feet got cold, and the air got colder. Bill wasthe only one who didn't seem to mind the delay and acted as if he rather enjoyed a vacation.
"Now we're off again," said Jimmy, as they resumed their journey. "After all, breaking a hame strap's nothing. Bill gets extra feed for that. Anybody that can work hard enough to bust a hame strap has my approval. I never did. You see, son, it was in a way rather lucky, because I'd never have guessed what a good old nag Bill is if he hadn't proved it by snapping that strap! People most always get acquainted through accident. I certainly made a lot of acquaintances to-day! Also a lot of people got acquainted with me who might never, never, never have really known just what I was like!"
This pleasant reflection occupied his time for another mile, and then suddenly Bill stumbled, his head went down and his heels flew up, he seemed to stand on his neck for an instant, and then became a kicking, obstreperous heap of horse and harness on the snow.
"Hooray!" shouted Jimmy, again springing into action. "Hooray! I'll sit on his head, son, while you see how many pieces you can unfasten in his harness. Keep away from his heels. Tackle his belly band first. That's the ticket!Now see if you can get the tugs loose. Got 'em? Now stand back. William, arise!! Whoo-e-e! Come up like baking powder or patent yeast, don't you, Old Sport? There! There! Steady now. You're all right. Concentrate your thoughts on food and it'll ease your mind. I've tried it."
They restored Bill to his harness and backed him into the shafts.
"Now everything's all right again," said Jimmy, quite happily. "Just think what tough luck it would have been if he'd broken his neck. It doesn't pay to drive a horse with a broken neck. Just a waste of time. Never buy a horse with a broken neck, son, unless you are in the tallow business."
"Bill's all right, but—but—there seems to be somethin' wrong with the shaft on this side. It wobbles," said the driver.
Jimmy went around to the other side and inspected it.
"Humph! Does wobble," he admitted. "It's cracked. However, that's all right. Just think how bad it would have been if it had broken in two. Now, as it is, maybe it'll last till we get to Mountain City, and I'll pay for a new one. Yousee, partner, all these little things are sent to try our fortitude and philosophy."
Again they moved ahead, and Jimmy whimsically homilized that it wasn't how a shaft looked or felt that counted, but whether it did its work. "Why, if everybody in this world who is cracked was chucked aside as useless, I reckon there'd be mighty few folks left to do things," he insisted. "There'd be milk without crocks, and jobs without men; girls without sweethearts and churches without bells, son. Being cracked isn't a sin, it's just being common!"
"Whoa! Whoa, Bill! She's busted for good now, Mister!"
The damaged shaft had snapped ominously and the harassed Bill this time threatened to kick the whole exasperating outfit to kindling wood if his heels held out long enough to accomplish such a worthy job.
"I'm getting used to this snow, now; I like it!" asserted Jimmy, as he again got out to make an inspection. "We folks from Maryland always did appreciate snow. It makes us understand the general air of chilliness that seems to hover around New England Yanks. Well, looks as if we'd have to steal a fence rail somewhere, boy,if we wish to continue this delightful journey. Ah, there's a nice old stake-and-ridered layout over there. I always knew they were the best kind of fences for country roads. They do come in handy, all right. You hold William and explain things to him while I grab one."
He waded into a ditch where the snow was waist high, floundered up a bank, and selected a fairly straight fence rail that would serve his purpose, and wallowed back with it. Once he fell and got snow up his sleeves as high as his elbows.
"Now some folks would swear that was cold and uncomfortable," he remarked as he shook it out in chunks, "but I like it, because I know it's clean. It'd be awfully good in a cocktail just about now! Snow? Why I've known time in a jay town down in Louisiana when I'd have cried with joy for anything as cool as that to put in even plain water. 'We never appreciate our blessings till we get 'em,' as the Mormon said just before his seventeen wives swung him up on the limb of a tree."
For a time he watched Bill struggling along dejectedly, but was glad that his improvised shaft support served and contemplated the passage of time that must intervene before they reached Mountain City. And then Bill again stumbled, and stopped as if in despair.
"I think maybe his feet's balled up," suggested the boy.
Jimmy climbed out and lifted Bill's extremities, hoof by hoof, patiently digging off the snow stilts with his pocket knife, until at last he found one hoof with a shoe missing.
"Well, well, well! No wonder you stumbled, old fellow," he sympathized. "Cast a shoe, have you? Must have been back there where you fell! That's too bad. You can't wear one of mine, or you'd be welcome. Must have another put on up in Mountain City. Don't mention the expense. My firm's rich. We often give horse shoes away on Christmas—paper ones, you know!"
And the faithful and valiant Bill, relieved of one shoe and four big collections of snow, hobbled forward again until he came to the foot of a hill that seemed to stretch clear to the moon, and then for the first time acted as if he had given up entirely and succumbed to misfortune.
"How far is Mountain City, now, son?" asked Jimmy, not without some betrayal of anxiety.
"It's right up on top of that hill," said the boy, "But that hill's just one mile and a half long."
"Good!" declared Jimmy, "you sit here and steer the beast, and I'll get out and help and encourage him by leading him. I always was fond of wading in snow. Cools off one's temper, walking in the snow does. If every man who lost his temper had to walk a mile and a half uphill through the snow, before he could say or do anything else, there would never be a murder in this world, no divorces, and—by gosh!—maybe no marriages either. That would be a calamity. Snow certainly does cool one off."
An hour later when, after frequent rests and short but strenuous efforts, they halted at the top of the hill and saw the main street of Mountain City ahead of them, Jimmy said to the boy as he climbed back, panting, into the sleigh, "Son, we learn by experience; but it's only the wise and experienced man who knows that ignorance is bliss. There's a lot of things in this life that I don't want to know anything at all about in the future. Alpine climbing; politics, and votes for women are all off my list. The only things I'd like to investigate are warm drinks, hot grub, and the insides of a pair of drysocks, shoes and breeches! And with that knowledge I'd be content. If you can find the way to the hotel without straying, I'll forgive you for what you didn't know about the way up here, and we'll begin all over again. Once more we're on our merry way!"
Evidently Judge Granger was unknown to the hotel keeper of Mountain City, for no comment was made on Jimmy's arrival and the place seemed warm, comfortable, and luxurious after the snow drifts of the mountains. Jimmy first phoned the railway station where he learned that Number Sixteen was still belated but was expected through by midnight. Inasmuch as Bad Fortune had been conquered by optimism, Good Fortune now smiled upon the optimist. He purchased dry underwear, dry shoes, and dry trousers for himself, and astonished the boy who had so valiantly supported him by the presentation of a new suit of clothes, new red flannel underwear, and new shoes.
"Lord! It'd never do for me to send you back home sniffling with a cold," he explained to the lad. "Your maw would never forgive me, and—I reckon I've got enough enemies amongst the women of this locality without adding her tomy list. Heaven help me if ever I go back there again! They'd boil me alive in a soap kettle, and feed my fat to the pigs! Now we shall look after the requirements of Rosinante, my little Sancho Panza. Then we shall eat."
By liberal payment he succeeded in inducing the village wagon maker to put in a new shaft that night, and the village blacksmith immediately took on the work of replacing the lost shoe. Then he inspected the stable where Bill was to sleep, bought a full bale of clean straw, a double quantity of oats, and induced the hostler to give Bill an extra rub and an extra blanket.
"Nothing's too good for us to-night, son," he explained to his admiring supporter. "I feel like going on a bat. Just the same as Daniel probably did after he got out of the lion's den. I'll bet ten to one that the first thing he said after they hoisted him out was to ask the king what he'd have to drink. Hospitality, my boy, is the guarantee of appreciation. Both those who give and those who accept are satisfied, which is unlike nearly all other bargains made in this world. This is applicable to everything except jails. Remember my preachments after I amgone, and you'll never get into the latter—that is—if you can run fast enough!"
They still tell, in that hotel, of the meal he had specially prepared to celebrate his escape from the Philistines. Long before it was through the boy was speechless.
"Gee! Can't eat any more," he declared after a third piece of hot mince pie.
"What's the matter? New suit of clothes too tight? Well, son, here's another piece of advice," said Jimmy, as he helped himself. "Trouser bands aren't made of rubber because all tailors are rich men who never get hungry. By leaning toward the table and pretending to fool with your serviette, it's easy to open the top buttons under your vest without anybody noticing that you're going to make a fresh start. This is a form of politeness that is necessary lest you alarm your host. Always do it that way, and in the meantime, if you can think of one, tell a funny story. It serves to distract attention from what you're doing, which is the success of all card tricks, sleight-of-hand performances, and getting a tummy full. Also that is probably the reason why napkins are worn in the lap instead of in the neckband of your collar. IncidentallyI see there is a neglected raisin sticking to your chin, which leads me to further observe that food is worn inside and not outside your face. That's right! Don't waste it! I knew you wouldn't!"
He stopped suddenly, looked at his watch and said, "Great Scott! I forgot one thing! How late does the Emporium keep open? Nine o'clock? Oh, then I've got time. I must telephone Mister—Umm-m-mh!—Wade, did you say his name was?"
The boy looked alarmed, but Jimmy explained. "You see he expected you back to-night. He didn't know how bad the roads were. I must tell him you'll not be back before to-morrow morning. What's the 'phone number? 37? Good. I'll go now and tell him. You stay here until I come back. We're going to have coffee."
Jimmy hastened out to the 'phone and was thankful that it was conveniently placed in a cabinet, for he was rather uncertain what might be said, or, indeed, whether the telephone might not explode from heat generated at the other end of the line. He got Wade without difficulty, and again Fortune smiled.
"Mr. Wade," he said in his customary cheerful voice, "I made an address at the court house this afternoon, and—er—the exigencies of my departure led me to commandeer the services of your delivery boy, Tim, I think his name is. What's that?"
He stopped, puzzled for the moment by the loud burst of laughter from the other end of the line, and then a question, cautiously uttered as if the speaker were afraid of being overheard, "Where are you, Judge?"
"Mountain City Hotel."
"Oh, up there, eh? Glad you got away safely. I heard that you were last seen eloping with Tim and my nag Bill. And—can you hear me?—Yes?—well, secretly I was tickled to death that you got away! This thing of votes for women—you understand! Glad you handed it out straight. Of course I can't say so out loud, but——"
"Thanks!" said the relieved Jimmy. "I'm sending Tim and Bill back in the morning. Also I'd like to give Tim an envelope with a ten dollar note in it to pay for the use of the rig if you'll accept it."
"S-s-s-h!" came back over the telephone."Don't say a word! I'll not have it! You can pay the keep for the boy and horse up there. That's all I'll accept. That and a promise that you'll not give me away! It wouldn't do for me to let it be known that—you understand, Judge!"
And Jimmy left the telephone box in an extraordinary good humor and sauntered back to his coffee.
He insisted on inspecting the room that he had engaged for his guest, and extravagantly ordered a fire for it. He insisted on his guest retiring, but the guest, reduced to a state of adoration, rebelled and saw him off when the train pulled out from Mountain City at 11:30 that night.
Mr. James Gollop settled himself comfortably into a seat therein and emitted a great sigh of content.
"As the copy book used to say at school," he thought, "'Count that day lost whose low descending sun, views o'er thy work without some worthy person done.' And if in one place in his bailiwick I haven't fried that codfish Granger to a crisp, it's not because I haven't been industrious. I've been as busy as a horse with a wooden leg trying to win the Derby!"
Recovering his luggage at the junction with the main line, and traveling an additional forty miles after such a strenuous day, predisposed the indefatigable Mr. Gollop for a long night's rest. Finding himself again in a modern little city with a first class hotel, and a luxurious bed aided the ministrations of nature, so that it was after ten o'clock in the morning when he whistled his way to his bath and then carefully selected a clean outfit for the day's work. He hummed like a particularly lucky hummingbird while he shaved, and felt like hoppity-skipping down to the grill room, where his healthy appetite might have full play. He found himself a nicely cushioned alcove through whose window he could look out on the clear, brilliant morning with its dazzle of snow, and at the same time luxuriate in the steam heated atmosphere within. The world seemed turning very well and happily, as faras Mr. James Gollop could observe and feel, and he gave his order and was rendered grateful when an excellently trained waiter laid before him the morning papers. And then Mr. Gollop sat up and grinned with the culminating joy of the morning!
The paper he had first glanced at was rabidly Democratic and sported a huge headline completely across the front page which read: