"It doesn't belong to him any more," broke in Mr. Ranquist.
"Since when has he ceased to own it?"
"Well, I don't know as that is any of your affair, but I'll tell you. Since yesterday afternoon Mr. Kimball ceased to be the owner, when he signed an agreement to sell this piece to the Universal Salt Company."
Mr. Vanter started, and looked at Roger, who sorrowfully nodded in confirmation of what the engineer had said.
"There's his son; ask him," went on Mr. Ranquist, pointing to Adrian.
"I guess it's true," said the boy, in response to Mr. Vanter's look. "But," he added, "my father would never have agreed to sell it if he had known there was salt on it."
"I would imagine not," said Mr. Vanter, softly, to himself.
"That was his lookout, not mine," came from Mr. Ranquist. Turning to Mr. Vanter, he added: "I advise you to leave here, my friend. I'll overlook the trespass for once, but don't let it happen again," and he frowned in a significant manner.
"Suppose I refuse to go until you prove to me that you own this land, or have a legal right, by virtue of an agreement, to order me off," asked Mr. Vanter.
"Then I'm afraid there'll be an unpleasant scene," exclaimed Mr. Ranquist, in a harsh voice, and with a sudden motion he drew a revolver, and aimed it full atthe surveyor. "I don't want to resort to forceful measures," he went on, "but I'll have no hesitation in using this if you remain here three minutes longer." He drew out his watch.
"You needn't worry," spoke up Mr. Vanter, calmly. "I'm not afraid of that popgun, for I've faced bigger ones than that, but at present you seem to have the law on your side. However, Mr. Ranquist, we may meet again, when perhaps the shoe will be on the other foot. I'll bid you good-morning," and, bowing politely, with not a trace of anger in his face, Mr. Vanter walked slowly down the hill, followed by the two laborers. Roger and Adrian remained behind for a minute or so.
"I guess I can get along without you two boys," remarked Mr. Ranquist, in strange contrast to his pleasant tones of a few days before. "And as for you, Master Roger, if I catch you on this land after to-day, it won't be well for you. Mind what I say, and keep off. I'll see your father, Adrian, and have him keep you away also."
"You needn't trouble yourself," said Adrian, quickly. He was as angry as ever a boy could be. "We don't have any great hankering to get on your land, which you had to cheat to get control of," and with this parting shot Adrian and Roger made their way in the direction taken by Mr. Vanter. They caught up to him before he had gone very far, and though Roger, in obedience to his instructions, was not going to speak, the surveyor addressed him.
"Well, Roger," he said, "I see you were too late. Your uncle must have signed before you got home last night."
"He had," answered the boy. "He was reading the agreement when I got in. I think he said he is to sign the deed to-morrow."
"Too bad," remarked Mr. Vanter, sympathetically, "but I suppose it couldn't be helped. I think I'll go down and see Mr. Kimball, anyhow. He used to know me when I was a Cardiff boy. I suppose," turning to Adrian, "this is his son?"
Adrian nodded pleasantly, and while the party advanced Roger told his cousin in a low tone who Mr. Vanter was, and how he had met him. At the foot of the hill the surveyor dismissed his laborers and went on with the boys.
"I didn't have a chance to do much in the way of examining the land," said Mr. Vanter to Roger. "I would have dug deeper if I hadn't been interrupted. But from what I saw, and the way Ranquist acted, I am pretty sure the salt deposit is a large one, and valuable. I wish, for Mr. Kimball's sake, I had known this two days ago."
When the three reached the house, they found Mr. Kimball reading a letter. Roger introduced Mr. Vanter, and the farmer at once recalled the man who, as a youngster, used to play about the village streets.
"I ain't forgot ye," he said, clapping Mr. Vanter heartily on the back. "I remember onct when I ketchedye in my melon patch," and he laughed at the recollection, Mr. Vanter joining in.
"I have even better cause than you have not to forget that little incident," responded the surveyor, as he rubbed the back of his legs reflectively.
"I reckon I switched ye good 'n' proper," commented Mr. Kimball, a smile playing about the corners of his mouth.
"I hear you have been selling a salt mine just as if it was ordinary pasture land," said Mr. Vanter, to change the subject.
"Why, how'd ye know thet?" asked Mr. Kimball, in a wondering tone. "I calalated nobody—Oh! You're th' feller Roger went to see in Syracuse," he cried suddenly. "I understand now. Wa'al, it ain't th' boy's fault. He made a noble try. I took up Ranquist's offer too quick, thet's th' hull trouble. But I needed th' money bad. In fact, here's a letter now, tellin' me thet onless I raise th' cash by th' end a' th' week, th' mortgage'll be foreclosed, 'n' I'll lose th' farm. By sellin' th' spring-glade when I did, I've got nuff t' make th' payment. Ha'f a loaf's better'n' no bread, ye know. But I s'pose I ought t' hev waited."
"When do you sign the deed?" asked Mr. Vanter. "I understand you have given a binding agreement to sell, so it's no use trying to get out of that."
"Why, me 'n' Mrs. Kimball are t' put our signatures on th' deed t'-morrow," replied the farmer, "'n' I git th' balance a' th' two thousand dollars then. Handy 'nuffit'll be, too, but I wish now it were more. I'll be pretty heavily in debt, even arter I pay off th' mortgage. Yes, sir, me 'n' mother here signs t'-morrow," and he motioned to his wife who had come to the door.
At the mention of Mrs. Kimball's name in connection with signing the deed, Mr. Vanter gave a start of surprise. He seemed to have an idea that proved a pleasant thought, for he rubbed his hands together, and began pacing up and down the room, as he had done when Roger saw him the first time, in the Syracuse office.
"Tell me," said Mr. Vanter, coming toward Mr. Kimball, and speaking very earnestly, "did Mrs. Kimball sign the agreement?"
"Why, no, she didn't, come t' think on 't," replied the farmer, scratching his head. "She were out when Mr. Ranquist brought th' paper. I guess she'd gone over t' Mrs. Took's. It were only a matter a' form, havin' her sign, Ranquist said, 'n' he mentioned she could sign th' deed. 'N' so, he bein' in a hurry, he left 'fore she got back. So th' agreement's got only my name on 't."
"If you don't mind, I'd like to take a look at that agreement," said Mr. Vanter, smiling as though something pleased him.
"Wa'al, I guess ye kin hev it," remarked Mr. Kimball. "'Tain't much use t' me, seein' 's how Ranquist has a copy. But what in th' name a' th' Cardiff giant d'ye want it fer?"
"To keep Mrs. Kimball from signing it by mistake," replied Mr. Vanter.
"How's thet? Is there any hope thet I won't hev t' deed away thet land?" asked Mr. Kimball, in great excitement.
"Oh, no; I guess you'll have t' sign the deed, as you have agreed to," was the answer.
"What then?"
"Well," said the surveyor slowly, "I may think of a plan to outwit Mr. Ranquist yet. Put on your hat and coat, and we'll go to Squire Bimmer's office."
"Hurrah!" shouted Roger, gaily, as he saw his uncle and Mr. Vanter leave the house. "Hurrah! Maybe it will come out right after all!"
But Mrs. Kimball, who had heard the talk, did not see how, and she was in no happy frame of mind, over the prospect of selling the valuable land for such a small sum.
The news of salt being discovered on Mr. Kimball's farm soon became known all over Cardiff. People rubbed their eyes, and wondered if something of the kind wouldn't happen on their land. Several began to dig in their gardens and back-yards, others on their hillsides, while a number hurried to the spring-glade to see what a salt mine looked like. These persons were much disappointed, however, as the only thing they saw was what digging Mr. Vanter's men had done. Mr. Ranquist was on guard, also, and warned all curious ones away.
The deed was to be signed at ten o'clock the next day, and, from the time Mr. Vanter took Mr. Kimball off with him, until that night, the two spent many busy hours. There was much looking over of legal books and records, and a number of consultations in Squire Bimmer's office. Toward the close of the day, that had been so full of exciting incidents, Mr. Kimball seemed a little more cheerful.
"I think," said Mr. Vanter, as he and the farmer left the squire's house, "that we'll have a little surprise for Mr. Ranquist to-morrow."
"I'm sure I hope it'll come out right," remarked Mr. Kimball.
Mr. Vanter started off toward the Pine Tree Inn.
"Whar ye goin'?" demanded Mr. Kimball.
"Why I thought I'd put up at the tavern, just as I did last night," rejoined Mr. Vanter.
"Not much, ye won't," interposed Mr. Kimball. "I ain't goin' t' hev a friend a' mine eatin' th' kind a fodder ye'll find up at th' Pine Tree. Ye're comin' home 'ith me. I guess we'll be able t' give ye suthin' t' eat, 'n' a place t' sleep."
"Well, if you insist," agreed Mr. Vanter, to whom the prospect of another night in the tavern, under the same roof with Mr. Ranquist and Mr. Dudley, was not a pleasant one. So he and Mr. Kimball went back to the big, comfortable farmhouse, where a smoking-hot supper was waiting for them. And Mr. Vanter did full justice to the tender chicken, fried crisp in sweet butter, the salt-rising bread, the buckwheat honey, the preserved plums, the generously frosted fruit and chocolate cakes, and a lot besides.
"It's the best meal I've had in a year," he told the delighted Mrs. Kimball, while Clara blushed at the praise bestowed on her cakes.
Every one was up early next morning, and, soon after breakfast, Squire Bimmer came along, bearing his seal as Commissioner of Deeds, his law books, and various legal papers.
"I don't calalate I'll hev much need a' this," said the squire, indicating his seal.
"I hope not," replied Mr. Vanter. "But we can't tell. It all depends on Mrs. Kimball," and he smiled a little as he said this.
"Wa'al I guess I kin make out t' act jest 's ye told me to," remarked that lady. "Ye needn't be afraid a' me goin' back on ye."
"No danger," chuckled Mr. Kimball.
It was about ten o'clock, when Mr. Ranquist, accompanied by Mr. Dudley and a lawyer, appeared at the farmhouse. They were led into the parlor, a table was cleared, and Mr. Vanter, Mr. Kimball, and Squire Bimmer drew up close to it. Mr. Ranquist glared at Mr. Vanter, and smiled in an easy sort of fashion, as though he already had the property in his possession. He slowly drew from his valise a bundle of bank-bills.
"There's fifteen hundred dollars in that package," he said, addressing no one in particular.
"I suppose everything is in readiness," said Mr. Dudley to his lawyer. "Here is the agreement Mr. Kimball has signed. All that is necessary now is for him to put his name on the deed."
"'N' I'm ready to do thet," spoke up the farmer. Roger and Adrian, who had entered the room, wondered at his easy compliance. They had expected him to refuse, and looked to see Mr. Ranquist compel him, by means of the agreement. Pens and ink were ready, and, in a few seconds Mr. Kimball had affixed his signature to the deed, by the terms of which he conveyed a certain tract of land, described very carefully, to the Universal SaltCompany, to have and to hold, and so on, with a lot of legal terms.
"Now," remarked the lawyer for the two engineers, when he had blotted Mr. Kimball's name, "as soon as Mrs. Kimball has signed you will get the fifteen hundred dollars."
"Oh, yes, ye want Mrs. Kimball now," said her husband, smiling a bit, and not at all like a man who has been cheated into selling a valuable salt mine for a small sum. "Oh, yes, Mrs. Kimball. Wait; I'll call her. Here, mother," he said, going to the door, "come in. We need ye fer a minute."
Mrs. Kimball entered as her husband went out. She was a little excited over the part she was to play.
"Sign right there, please," said the lawyer, pointing to the space below Mr. Kimball's name, and seeing to it, as the law requires, that the husband was not present when the wife signed the deed.
Mrs. Kimball did not seem to understand. She made no motion to pick up the pen. The lawyer waited expectantly, and then said:
"Just sign your name, will you, please?"
"No, sir," replied Mrs. Kimball, firmly, "I won't sign. I've made up my mind not to put my name to this deed, 'n' I ain't agoin' to."
"What?" exclaimed the lawyer.
"What?" cried Mr. Ranquist.
"What?" almost shouted Mr. Dudley.
Then all three said, "What!" in a chorus.
"No, sir!" repeated Mrs. Kimball, "I'm not agoin' t' sign, 'n' thet's th' end on 't," and she shut her lips firmly.
"Why this is ridiculous. I never heard of such a thing," began the lawyer. "Why, my dear Mrs. Kimball, your husband can't convey this property unless you sign the deed also. That is the law. Husband and wife must both sign the deed. This puts us in a pretty predicament!"
"I thought it would," said Mr. Vanter, softly; and at the words, Mr. Ranquist turned angrily toward him.
"Oh, so you've been meddling," the engineer remarked, with a sneer.
"If you call it that," rejoined Mr. Vanter coolly.
"Can't you induce your wife to sign?" asked the lawyer of Mr. Kimball.
The grizzled farmer, who had returned, smiled good naturedly.
"I don't like t' be disobligin'," he said, slowly, "but from long experience I know thet whenever Mrs. Kimball makes up her mind not t' do a thing, she won't do it. I've tried her before, 'n' I know. Ef she says she won't sign, there's no use a' me, er any one else tryin' t' make her," and Mr. Kimball sat down.
"And I suppose I hardly need point out," interposed Mr. Vanter, "that, without the consent of Mrs. Kimball her husband cannot legally sell that property. I rather guess the Universal Salt Company will have to get along without the spring-glade, Mr. Ranquist. What do you think of the situation now?"
Mr. Ranquist, without replying, turned angrily to his lawyer.
"I'm afraid he's right," assented the legal representative of the foiled plotters. "The law requires the unenforced consent of the wife if the husband sells any of his property. This is a woman's dower right, and amounts to a third interest in her husband's real estate. We can't get this land unless Mrs. Kimball signs the deed, and she—"
"She's not goin' t' sign, 'n' ye needn't try t' make her," interrupted that lady. "I guess that'll put a spoke in yer wheel," she added as she swept out of the room.
"I rather think th' deal's off, gentlemen," said Mr. Kimball as he laid a five hundred dollar bill with the other money. "I'm sorry, but it can't be helped. Curi's how obstinate some womenfolks be," and he chuckled loudly. "That's yer money back."
For a little while Mr. Ranquist looked very angry and disappointed.
"I think you are all making a mistake," he said. "We made a fair bargain for the land, and gave you just what you asked. There may be salt on it, and, then, there may not be. If there is, it may not be that there will be enough to make it pay. But we are willing to take the risk. However, if you think you should have more money, why perhaps five hundred dollars additional—"
Mr. Kimball made a gesture of dissent.
"Or say one thousand more," said Mr. Ranquist, eagerly.
"I reckon we won't do any tradin' t'-day," broke in Mr.Kimball. "I calalate I'll farm thet salt mine myself. I guess I kin make out t' dig 'nuff t' make it pay."
"All right, suit yourself," came from Mr. Ranquist, as if he was ready to give up. He turned to the lawyer, who handed him a paper.
"I'm sorry," said the engineer, and his lips showed a cruel smile, that indicated just the opposite feeling, "I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'll be obliged to ask Mr. Kimball to pay off this mortgage. It is some time overdue, and has been assigned to us. I presume you have the money handy, Mr. Kimball, otherwise we shall at once begin action to foreclose, and take the farm from you. In the meantime we shall, as a matter of precaution, retain control of that part of the land known as the spring-glade."
"Wh—What?" stammered poor Mr. Kimball, for the demand of Mr. Ranquist came like a stab in the back. "Why-why, I thought—"
"Never mind what you thought," interrupted Mr. Ranquist. "The question is, have you the cash to pay off this mortgage with?" and his tone held a threat.
"N-no, sir—I can't say—wa'al, I ain't got it, 'n' thet's th'—"
"Oh, yes, he has it all right," broke in Mr. Vanter. "Here is the money!"
He threw a roll of crisp bills on the table.
"I think you'll find the amount correct," he went on, turning to Mr. Ranquist, who showed every sign of deep chagrin. "I rather guess I've beaten you at your own game," proceeded the surveyor. "I was prepared for thislittle move on your part. Now, if you will kindly cancel the mortgage I guess that will be about all to-day."
There was nothing for Mr. Ranquist to do, but accept the offer, and take the money. He would much have preferred foreclosing the mortgage, since then he would be in possession of the farm and the valuable salt mine.
"How—how's this?" began Mr. Kimball brokenly. "I didn't know—"
"That's enough, now," said Mr. Vanter kindly. "I'm attending to this for you. The mine on your land will be worked by the Pipe Line Salt Company, and not by the Universal," he said to Mr. Ranquist. "Still, if you care to make us an offer, we may be willing to consider it. And, now, let me bid you good day."
Silently receipting for the money, and cancelling the mortgage, Mr. Ranquist, followed by Mr. Dudley and the lawyer, left the room, neither one speaking.
"Hurrah!" cried Adrian, as the door closed on the plotters, "we beat 'em, Roger. Hurrah!"
"And it's all due to Roger, here," said Mr. Vanter as he shook hands heartily with the boy. "If he hadn't discovered the white crystals, and called to see me, these men would now be in possession of the salt mine. As it is, Mr. Kimball still owns it."
"But ye paid th' mortgage," insisted the farmer, to whom the whole transaction was still much of a mystery. "That entitles ye t' th' farm, don't it?"
"You may look upon that as a loan from me," said Mr. Vanter. "A sort of investment. But we are all stillpretty much in the dark. Suppose there is salt in such a small quantity that it will not pay to mine it?"
This idea made every one feel quite anxious.
"We'll soon find out, however," went on the surveyor, "for I'm going to sink a shaft to-morrow. Until then we shall have to be patient."
Early the next morning Mr. Vanter went to the spring-glade, and started the two men at work, sinking the shaft, which they had to abandon so suddenly the day before. The surveyor decided on going straight down, instead of in at a slant, which he had at first believed best. Roger and Adrian watched the operations with interest, as did a throng of people, who were not disturbed as they gathered about the spot. The good news had gone all over Cardiff, and there was not a person, excepting the plotters, but what rejoiced at Mr. Kimball's fortune in saving his land.
The digging progressed slowly, as only a small shaft was to be sunk, and but one man could work in it at a time. For three anxious days the labor went on, the hole in the ground becoming deeper and deeper. The man whose turn it was to go into the excavation was below the level of the surface now. Mr. Kimball, and all his family, as well as the neighbors, were wondering whether or not salt would be struck in sufficient quantities to make the venture pay. If not, it would have been better had Mr. Kimball accepted the offer of Mr. Ranquist. Two days more of digging would tell the story. And those two days were filledwith anxious uneasiness on the part of all in the farmhouse. The work went on early and late, and Mr. Kimball neglected all but the most necessary of his duties to watch the progress.
The sinking of the shaft was done in rather a primitive fashion. A hole, almost like that dug for a well, was started, and, when the bottom got so far below the surface that the earth could no longer be tossed out, the men rigged up a windlass and rope, on the end of which was a large bucket, into which the dirt was placed to be hauled up and dumped.
It happened on Wednesday, just a week after the day when the farm was saved, that the men had dug down about thirty feet. Toward the close of the afternoon Roger and Adrian, who were constantly at the mine, had strolled away, and were up in the woods, looking for signs of foxes, which were plentiful that year. They were sitting on a log, idly tossing stones at an old stump, when Adrian suddenly called: "Hark!"
They both listened intently. A faint cry came to them.
"Sounds like some one hollering," said Roger.
"It is!" exclaimed Adrian. "And it's down by the salt mine. Maybe they've struck the white crystals. Let's hurry up and see."
Together they started off. As they came nearer the sounds were louder, and then, they seemed to be, not shouts of delight at the discovery of something long wished for, but, rather, cries of distress.
"Some one's hurt!" said Roger, increasing his pace.
The boys had reached the edge of the spring-glade now, and could see the mouth of the shaft. But there was no one near it, not even the usual crowd of curious people, Mr. Vanter and Mr. Kimball had, for the time being, gone away, so the scene was deserted. Neither of the two workmen, one of whom should have been at the windlass, was to be noticed.
"There's been an accident!" exclaimed Adrian.
"I guess the man's fallen down the shaft," said Roger, referring to the missing laborer. "That's it," he added excitedly. "They're both down there! Hear 'em calling?"
And, sure enough, that was where the cries for help came from. The boys ran and peered down into the depths of the hole. For a moment, because of the darkness, they could make out nothing. Then, as their eyes became used to the blackness, they observed, dimly, two figures, at the bottom of the deep excavation. And the figures were those of the two workmen, who seemed to be struggling in desperation. Every now and then would come a terrified cry from one of them:
"Help! Help! Help!"
"What shall we do?" shouted Adrian, almost trembling in the excitement.
"We must get them out!" exclaimed Roger. "Let's call to them, to let 'em know we're on hand."
"Hello! Hello!" yelled Adrian down the shaft. "Hello! What's the matter? What shall we do to help you?"
"Wind up—the—rope! Turn the—windlass!" came faintly from below.
"That's it!" cried Roger, as he seized the crank. "Turn, Ade! Turn!"
The two boys worked the windlass, straining in desperation. It taxed their strength to the utmost, for the weight at the other end of the rope was very heavy. Roger was the first to realize that, in their fear, both men were clinging to the cable, and trying to be brought to the surface at the same time.
"Stop turning," said Roger to Adrian. Then the boys fastened the windlass by the catch at the side of the cog wheel, put there for the purpose. Next, Roger leaned over and shouted down:
"One on the rope at a time! We can't haul you both up together!"
"All right!" came the answer from the black depths. "Jim'll try it first."
There was a perceptible slacking of the rope, and then Roger and Adrian began winding up the windlass again. This time it was much easier to turn the handle. As the strands of the cable coiled over the drum, foot by foot, they brought up, into the light of day, first the head, then the body of one of the laborers. His face showed the terror he felt, and the boys noticed, with great surprise, that he was dripping wet.
"Hurry!" called Jim. "Tom's down there yet. Lower the rope."
He unfastened it, from where he had looped it beneathhis arms, and tossed it dangling into the hole. It ran out quickly over the drum. There came a cry from below to indicate that Tom had the end. Then, giving him time to adjust it, Jim began to turn quickly, replacing the boys, and soon the other workman was brought up. He too was soaking wet.
"I tell you, that was a narrow squeak!" exclaimed Tom, removing the rope.
"You're right," chimed in Jim. "As close as I ever want."
"Did you fall in a well?" asked Roger, wondering why the men were so damp.
"Indeed we did, my boy," answered Tom. "And it was a salt well, of the saltiest water I ever tasted. Pah! My mouth is full of it yet."
"Then there isn't any salt mine down there," went on Roger in a disappointed tone, his interest in that matter overshadowing, for a moment, his joy at having helped save the men.
"Nary a bit of a salt mine," said Tom. "But I'll back the salt lake down there, against most anything outside of Utah. Hey, Jim?"
"That's right," assented his companion, wiping the salt water from his eyes.
"How did it happen?" asked Adrian.
"Now you're talkin'," said Tom. "We were diggin' away, or rather I was, and Jim was up above. I'd got about as deep as where Mr. Vanter said we ought to strike rock salt, and I was givin' some hearty blows with my pick,when, all on a sudden, the pick goes through with a pop, jest like when you stick a pin in one of them red balloons you buy at the circus. First thing I knew I was up to my neck in water saltier 'n' any ever tasted. Wow! But I didn't know what I'd struck, the Atlantic Ocean or the Dead Sea."
"I guess it was a little of both," interposed Jim.
"Right you are, Jim. Well, as it happened I landed right on a ledge of rock, or I might have gone on clean through to China," resumed Tom. "As soon as I got my wind I sung out to Jim. All the while I was holdin' on to a projectin' stone in the side of the shaft. When I yelled to Jim I wanted him to lower the rope to me. But he got excited, or something and, after he had unwound it, and lowered it, he shinned down it himself, hand over hand. Then before he could stop himself he was in the water with me, both of us as wet as drowned rats, at the bottom of a shaft thirty feet deep. We could just make out to find room on the narrow ledge, or we'd both been in the bottomless pit. We tried to climb up the rope, but, not bein' sailors or circus fellows, we didn't make out worth a cent. So we both began to yell as hard as we could, and—well, you know the rest. My! Oh! But it's glad we are that you boys came along when you did, or we'd both be fairly pickled away in brine for the winter. How about it, Jim?"
"That's what," said Jim, heartily, wringing about a quart of salt water from his coat.
"But I can't understand how the brine got down there,"said Roger. "Mr. Vanter expected to strike rock salt, and the white crystals I brought up were certainly solid enough. I can't see why there should be salt water, unless there's a spring of fresh water that has become brine from dissolving the rock salt. I must hurry to tell Mr. Vanter."
The boys and men went toward the farmhouse together. On the way they met Mr. Vanter, who was much surprised when he heard what had happened. He hurried to the mine to make sure of it. The men went back with him, not minding the wetting, for the day was warm. Though they tried to deter him, Mr. Vanter insisted on being lowered down the shaft. The boys, who had also come back, were a little apprehensive, when they saw their friend the surveyor disappear down the black hole, but they were soon reassured when they heard his cheery voice shouting from the depths that he was all right, and that he had found a place to stand. In a few minutes he signalled to be drawn up, and, when he reached the surface he looked delighted, instead of disappointed, as the boys had expected.
"Is the salt mine a failure?" asked Roger, anxiously.
"The salt mine is," said Mr. Vanter.
"Oh, dear!" exclaimed Roger and Adrian together.
"But the salt spring is the biggest kind of a success," added Mr. Vanter, smiling. "In fact, we've struck the same conditions that exist beneath the city of Syracuse. Instead of mining for salt we shall have to pump for it, which is cheaper and better. Boys, I can see big things in this for you. A pipe line can be run out to Syracuse, andtransportation charges will be saved. Tom, that last pick stroke of yours was a mighty lucky one."
"I didn't think so at the time," remarked Tom, as he saw the white salt crystals appearing on his clothes, now that the sun was evaporating the water.
"Hurrah for the Kimball Salt Spring!" cried Adrian, throwing his hat high in the air, and Roger joined in heartily, turning a summersault to show how glad he felt.
"Now to test the brine," said Mr. Vanter, as he sent the men for a pump and the necessary pipes. "But I have no doubt, from the fact that the general character of this valley is the same from here to Syracuse, that we have a fine quality of solution. You have struck it rich, Mr. Kimball," he went on, as the farmer approached, all excitement over the news. "We haven't a mine for you, but we have something better," and he told him what had taken place.
"Wa'al, I knowed suthin' good 'd come outen what seemed dark prospects at fust," said the old farmer, calling to mind the bad news of the loss of his money in the railroad shares, and the mortgage foreclosure. "I knowed suthin' good 'd come, 'n' it's all along a' Roger here. I sha'n't forgit it, nuther," he added, and Roger, fearing some one was going to praise him in public, hurried to the house.
The Cardiff stage, next day, took to Syracuse three very much chagrined and disappointed men,—Mr. Ranquist, Mr. Dudley, and their lawyer. They maintained a silence as they climbed aboard the lumbering vehicle, early in the morning, and the usual crowd that gathered to see the stage depart had no words of farewell for the men who had sought to take such an unfair advantage of Mr. Kimball.
"G'lang!" cried Porter Amidown, cracking his whip, and the horses leaped forward with a jingle of harness. It was the last Cardiff saw of the conspirators.
As for the salt well on Mr. Kimball's farm, it turned out better than even Mr. Vanter dared to hope. The brine was of a heavy and saturated quality, and, when evaporated, gave a residue of excellent salt. It compared favorably with the condiment manufactured in Syracuse, which is considered about the best in the world. One day, when Roger and Adrian were at the well, Mr. Vanter told how, in his opinion, the salt springs beneath the surface of the earth came there.
Geologists were agreed, he said, that, thousands of years ago, the whole Onondaga valley was part of an immense sea. This was evidenced by the fossils found in the hills.As the ages passed, there were eruptions and upheavals of the earth's surface. Then the salt water from the sea might have been condensed into solid rocks of salt, or the rock salt away down deep in the earth might have been brought nearer the surface. At any rate, in time, the white crystals were formed in great masses. Then, beneath the surface of the ground, there welled up springs of fresh water, which dissolved, and held in solution, the salt. When the shaft had been sunk on Mr. Kimball's land, Mr. Vanter said, meaning the small hole Mr. Ranquist had bored with his sectional drill, the steel had probably only gone into the thin crust of salt, formed over one of the immense and deep underground springs. He was thus deluded, as was Mr. Vanter himself, into the belief that a mine of rock salt had been discovered.
"Mr. Ranquist must have studied the matter up," said Mr. Vanter, "and he reasoned that there ought to be salt in this section of the country. He found it, but not as he expected. I have no doubt that other farmers in this vicinity will be just as lucky as Mr. Kimball has been, and will strike salt springs on their land."
And so it proved. Urged by the example of their neighbor, many farmers had shafts sunk on their hillsides and, in several cases, especially on land near Mr. Kimball's, valuable springs were come upon. The news soon spread to all parts of the county, and, shortly, Cardiff was overrun with prospectors, and men who wished to buy up all the property and develop the salt wells. The owners, under the advice of Mr. Kimball, consulted with Mr. Vanter,who told them all to be cautious about signing away their rights. Under the guidance of the surveyor, a corporation, called the Pipe Line Salt Company, was formed to work the springs, and pump the brine through big black pipes, into Syracuse, twelve miles away, where the salt water was evaporated, and the resulting crystals purified and sold. For his spring-glade Mr. Kimball received thirty-five thousand dollars and some shares in the new company, which proved very valuable in a short time.
Of all the persons made glad by the discovery of salt in Cardiff, there were none more happy than the two boys, Roger and Adrian. Their part in the transactions was well known, and they were praised on every side.
One day, not long after these events, Roger received a letter by mail that made him want to stand on his head in delight. He raced home from the post-office with the missive half read, and burst into the kitchen, where Mrs. Kimball and Clara were baking bread.
"Hurrah!" he cried. "Father, mother, and baby Edward are coming! They'll be here day after to-morrow. Oh! But won't I be glad to see them!"
"Land sakes!" cried Mrs. Kimball. "Wa'al, now I'm real glad t' hear it. Mussy sakes, Clara! We'll hev t' double this bakin'," and she began to bustle about harder than ever with the salt-rising bread, while Roger ran to tell Adrian the good news.
How the time did drag until Mr. and Mrs. Anderson and the baby arrived on the stage! Roger and Adrian were at the gate to meet them, and Roger hugged hismother so tightly that she said he nearly took her breath, and was as bad as the bear he wrote about, which treed them all in the woods that day.
How good it was to grasp his father's hand again! And to bounce baby Edward high into the air, and hear him crow and shout in delight! Roger didn't know whether he was on his head or his feet in the gladness at seeing his parents after more than six months' absence from them. Mr. and Mrs. Kimball, Adrian, and Clara gave no less enthusiastic greeting to the newcomers, and, altogether, it was a jolly time.
"My, but how brown you are, and how you've grown!" said Roger's mother to him.
"Wa'al, I calalate he does look a leetle mite more like a boy should than when I fust see him," admitted Mr. Kimball. "He were kinder white-livered 'n' spindlin' then. But come inter th' house er supper'll spile, 'n' I know ye don't want anythin' like thet t' happen, 'specially ef yer appetites is anythin' like mine."
Such a happy meal as it was. Mr. Anderson told how he had, unexpectedly, received a vacation, and had determined to use it in coming to see how his son was getting along. Of course Mrs. Anderson and the baby must come too.
"'N' I hope ye kin all stay a year," said Mr. Kimball, heartily.
Mrs. Kimball was so "flustrated," as she put it, that she hardly knew whether she was passing the bread or the cake. But every one agreed that she did most excellently, and there was so much talking and laughing that nobodyseemed to care much whether they ate or not. The day was dying off into a perfect evening. The June sun was sinking down behind the wooded hills. Farmers were returning from their fields, tired but happy. The crickets and tree-toads were beginning their night songs. Darkness was settling down over peaceful Cardiff valley.
"How does it agree with you out here, Roger?" asked Mr. Anderson. "Do you think you would like to stay?"
"Would I?" began Roger. Then he glanced lovingly at his father, mother, and the baby. "I would, if all of you could stay too," he finished.
They had come out on the broad stone porch to sit in the cool twilight.
"We won't know how t' git along 'ithout him," said Mr. Kimball, and then he told all about the salt well, to the secret delight of Mr. Anderson, who felt very proud of his son.
"I'm afraid we'll have to have Roger back soon, however," said the boy's father. "His school principal came to see me the other day, and wanted to know when he was coming home to take up his lessons."
Books and studies, save such as beautiful Mother Nature provided, had been almost forgotten by Roger.
"Wa'al," began Mr. Kimball, "when it comes t' school, I've a sort a' proposition t' make. Ye see, ef it hadn't bin fer Roger, I wouldn't 'a' had any salt spring, 'n' 't ain't no more 'n' common justice thet he should hev a part on it."
"Uncle Bert!" cried Roger.
"Now, young man," interposed Mr. Kimball, good-naturedly,"young folks should be seen 'n' not heard, ye know. 'S I were sayin'," turning to Mr. Anderson, "Roger's got t' hev some sheers in my salt spring. Now I hed thought a' puttin' a certain sum t' his credit in th' bank."
Mr. Anderson made a gesture of dissent.
"Jest wait 'til I git through," said Mr. Kimball. "I ain't give up th' notion yet, but what I want t' say is, I think Roger ought t' use part of it t' go t' college 'ith. That's what I've planned t' do fer Adrian, here, 'cause there ain't nothin' like eddercation fer a boy, er a man either fer thet matter. I didn't hev no chanst when I were young. Hed t' git out 'n' hustle on th' farm when I were ten year old, so I know th' value a' larnin'. 'N' t' college my boy goes, now I'm well enough off t' send him," and Mr. Kimball clapped his hand down on his leg with a report like a small gun.
"I'm sure I don't know how to thank you," began Mr. Anderson. "I—"
"Then jest don't try," broke in Mr. Kimball, very practically. "We'll consider it all settled."
The women folks started to go in the house, while Mr. Kimball and Mr. Anderson walked a little way toward the road. Presently they heard a great shouting.
"What's that?" asked Mr. Anderson.
"Reckon it's th' boys, skylarkin'," replied Mr. Kimball. "They're allers up t' suthin' er other."
The men walked over toward the sounds, which were evidently of mirth. There, under the two big cherry treesthat stood at the gate, rolling in the sweet grass, were the two cousins; and Roger was sitting astride of Adrian, shouting at the top of his voice:
"I threw him! I threw him! It was a fair fall! Now who's the best wrestler?"
"Yes, but you can't do it again," panted Adrian, as he struggled unsuccessfully to rise.
"Roger throwed him!" cried Mr. Kimball, capering about, almost as much pleased over his nephew's victory as Roger himself was. "So ye throwed him fair, eh? Wa'al, I told ye we'd make a Cardiff boy outen ye, ef ye stayed long 'nuff. By Gum! Throwed him good 'n' proper! Now mebby he'll think some un 'sides him kin rassal."
"Well, well, but that's a big improvement in Roger," said Mr. Anderson, coming up as the boys resumed their feet. "He's twice as strong as when I sent him up here. The air and sunshine of the country have made him what he ought to be—a healthy, sturdy boy."
The lads clenched again, rolling over and over in the long grass. The last vestige of daylight disappeared, the chirping of the crickets became louder, the tree-toads croaked with stronger voices, and it was night in the valley of Cardiff.