I would not go home. Perhaps you can get something to eat from Aunt Judy.
I would not go home. Perhaps you can get something to eat from Aunt Judy.
As Harvey translated this, it read:
I would gph go rapd gradsvlt bodgghip rda goqbsjcm eat dkpx Aunt Judy.
I would gph go rapd gradsvlt bodgghip rda goqbsjcm eat dkpx Aunt Judy.
In answer to this, Harvey attempted to send the following message:
What do you mean by eating Aunt Judy?
What do you mean by eating Aunt Judy?
But Harry read:
Whatt a xdll mean rummmlgigdd Ju!
Whatt a xdll mean rummmlgigdd Ju!
Harry thought, of course, that this seemed like a reflection on his motives in proposing that Harvey could ask Aunt Judy to give him something to eat, and so, of course, there had to be explanations.
After a time, however the operators became much more expert, and although Harvey wasalways a little slow, he was very careful and very patient—most excellent qualities in an operator upon such a line.
The great desire now, not only among the officers of the company, but with many other folks in Akeville and the neighborhood, was to see the creek "up," so that travel across it might be suspended, and the telegraphic business commence.
To be sure, there might be other interests with which a rise in the creek would interfere, but they, of course, were considered of small importance, compared with the success of an enterprise like this.
But the season was very dry, and the creek very low. There were places where a circus-man could have jumped across it with all his pockets full of telegraphic messages.
In the mean time, the affairs of the company did not look very flourishing. The men who assisted in the construction of the line had not been paid in full, and they wanted their money. Kate reported that the small sum which had been appropriated out of the capital stock for the temporary support of Aunt Matilda was allgone. This report she made in her capacity as a special committee of one, appointed (by herself) to attend to the wants of Aunt Matilda. As the Treasurer of the company, she also reported that there was not a cent in its coffers.
In this emergency, Harry called a meeting of the Board.
It met, as this was an important occasion, in Davis's corn-house, fortunately now empty. This was a cool, shady edifice, and, though rather small, was very well ventilated. The meetings had generally been held under some big tree, or in various convenient spots in the woods near the creek, but nothing of that kind would be proper for such a meeting as this, especially as Kate, as Treasurer, was to be present. This was her first appearance at a meeting of the Board. The boys sat on the corn-house floor, which had been nicely swept out by John William Webster, and Kate had a chair on the grass, just outside of the door. There she could hear and see with great comfort without "settin' on the floor with a passel of boys," as Miss Eliza Davis, who furnished the chair, elegantly expressed it.
When the meeting had been called to order(and John William, who evinced a desire to hang around and find out what was going on, had been discharged from further attendance on the Board, or, in other words, had been ordered to "clear out"), and the minutes of the last meeting had been read, and the Treasurer had read her written report, and the Secretary had read his, an air of despondency seemed to settle upon the assembly.
An empty corn-house seemed, as Tom Selden remarked, a very excellent place for them to meet.
The financial condition of the company was about as follows:
It owed "One-eyed Lewston" and Aunt Judy one dollar each for one month's rent of their homesteads as stations, the arrangement having been made about the time the instruments were ordered.
It owed four dollars and twenty cents to the wood-cutters who worked on the construction of the line, and two dollars and a half for other assistance at that time.
("Wish we had done it all ourselves," said Wilson Ogden.)
It owed three dollars, balance on furniture procured at Hetertown. (It also owed one chair, borrowed.)
It owed, for spikes and some other hardware procured at the store, one dollar and sixty cents.
In addition to this, it owed John William Webster, who had been employed as a sort of general agent to run errands and clean up things, seventy-five cents—balance of salary—and he wanted his money.
To meet these demands, as was before remarked, they had nothing.
Fortunately nothing was owing for Aunt Matilda's support, Harry and Kate having from the first determined never to run in debt on her account.
But, unfortunately, poor Aunt Matilda's affairs were never in so bad a condition. The great interest which Kate and Harry had taken in the telegraph line had prevented them from paying much attention to their ordinary methods of making money, and now that the company's appropriation was spent, there seemed to be noimmediate method of getting any money for the old woman's present needs.
This matter was not strictly the business of the Board, but they nevertheless considered it.
CHAPTER XXIA Last Resort.
The Board was fully agreed that something must be done to relieve Aunt Matilda's present necessities, but what to do did not seem very clear.
Wilson Ogden proposed issuing some kind of scrip or bonds, redeemable in six or seven months, when the company should be on a paying basis.
"I believe," said he, "that Mr. Darby would take these bonds at the store for groceries and things, and we might pay him interest, besides redeeming the bonds when they came due."
This was rather a startling proposition. No one had suspected Wilson of having such a financial mind.
"I don't know," said Harry, "how that would work. Mr. Darby might not be willing to take the bonds; and besides that, it seems tome that the company ought not to make any more promises to pay when it owes so much already."
"But you see that would be different," said Wilson. "What we owe now we ought to pay right away. The bonds would not have to be paid for ever so long."
"That may be pretty sharp reasoning," remarked Tom Selden, "but I can't see into it."
"It would be all the same as running in debt for Aunt Matilda, wouldn't it?" asked Kate.
"Yes," said Wilson, "a kind of running in debt, but not exactly the common way. You see—"
"But if it's any kind at all, I'm against it," said Kate, quickly. "We're not going to support Aunt Matilda that way."
This settled the matter. To be sure, Kate had no vote in the Board; but this was a subject in which she had what might be considered to be a controlling interest, and the bond project was dropped.
Various schemes were now proposed, but there were objections to all of them. Everyonewas agreed that it was very unfortunate that this emergency should have arisen just at this time, because as soon as the company got into good working order, and the creek had been up a few times it was probable that Aunt Matilda would really have more money than she would absolutely need.
"You ought to look out, Harry and Kate," said Harvey Davis, "that all the darkies she knows don't come and settle down on her and live off her. She's a great old woman for having people around her, even now."
"Well," said Kate, "she has a right to have company if she wants to, and can afford it."
"Yes," said Tom Selden; "but having company's very different from having a lot of good-for-nothing darkies eating her out of house and home."
"She won't have anything of that sort," said Harry. "I'll see that her money's spent right."
"But if it's her money," said Harvey, "she can spend it as she chooses."
A discussion here followed as to the kind of influence that ought to be brought to bear upon Aunt Matilda to induce her to make a judicioususe of her income; but Harry soon interrupted the arguments, with the remark that they had better not bother themselves about what Aunt Matilda should do with her money when she got it, until they had found out some way of preventing her from starving to death while she was waiting for it.
This was evidently good common sense, but it put a damper on the spirits of the Board.
There was nothing new to be said on the main question, and it was now growing toward supper-time; so the meeting adjourned.
On their way home, Harry said to Kate, "Has Aunt Matilda anything to eat at all?"
"Oh yes; she has enough for her supper to-night, and for breakfast, too, if nobody comes to see her. But that's all."
"All right, then," said Harry.
"I don't think it is all right," replied Kate. "What's two meals, I'd like to know?"
"Two meals are very good things, provided you don't take them both at once," said Harry. And he began to whistle.
The next day, Harry went off and staid until dinner-time.
Kate could not imagine where he had gone. He was not with the Board, she knew, for Harvey Davis had been inquiring for him.
Just before dinner he made his appearance.
Kate was in the house, but he hurried her out under the catalpa-tree.
"Look here!" said he, putting his hand in his pocket and pulling out several "greenbacks." "I reckon that'll keep Aunt Matilda until the company begins to make money."
Kate opened her eyes their very widest.
"Why, where on earth did you get all that money, Harry? Is it yours?"
"Of course it's mine," said Harry. "I sold my gun."
"Oh, Harry!" and the tears actually came into Kate's eyes.
"Well, I wouldn't cry about it," said Harry. "There's nothing to shoot now; and when we get rich I can buy it back again, or get another."
"Got rich!" said Kate. "I don't see how we're going to do that; especially when it's such dreadfully dry weather."
CHAPTER XXII.A Quandary.
About a week after the meeting of the Board in the Davis corn-house, old Miles, the mail-rider, came galloping up to Mr. Loudon's front gate. The family were at breakfast, but Harry and Kate jumped up and ran to the door, when they saw Miles coming, with his saddle-bags flapping behind him. No one had ever before seen Miles ride so fast. A slow trot, or rather a steady waddle, was the pace that he generally preferred.
"Hello, Mah'sr Harry," shouted old Miles, "de creek's up! Can't git across dar, no how?"
This glorious news for the Crooked Creek Telegraph Company was, indeed, true! There had been wet weather for several days, and although the rain-fall had not been great in the level country about Akeville, it had been very heavy up among the hills; and the consequencewas, that the swollen hill-streams, or "branches" as they are called in that part of the country, had rushed down and made Crooked Creek rise in a hurry. It seemed to be always ready to rise in this way, whenever it had a chance.
Now the company could go to work! Now it could show the world, or as much of the world as chose to take notice, the advantages of having a telegraph line across a creek in time of freshets.
Harry was all alive with excitement. He sent for Harvey Davis, and had old Selim saddled as quickly as possible.
"H'yar's de letters and telegrums, Mah'sr Harry," said Miles, unlocking his saddle-bags and taking out a bundle of letters and some telegrams, written on the regular telegraphic blanks and tied up in a little package.
As the mail was a private one, and old Miles was known to be perfectly honest, he carried the key and attended personally to the locking and unlocking of his saddle-bags.
"But I don't want the letters, Miles," said Harry. "I've nothing to do with them. Give me the telegrams, and I'll send them across."
"Don't want de letters?" cried Miles, his eyes and mouth wide open in astonishment. "Why, I can't carry de letters ober no mor'n I kin de telegrams."
"Well, neither can I," said Harry.
"Den what's de use ob dat wire?" exclaimed Miles. "I thought you uns ud send de letters an' all ober dat wire? Dere's lots more letters dan telegrums."
"I know that," said Harry, hurriedly; "but we can't send letters. Give the telegraphic messages, and you go back to the mines with the letters, and if there's anything in them that they want to telegraph, let them write out the messages, and you bring them over to Lewston's cabin."
Harry took the telegrams, and old Miles rode off, very much disturbed in his mind. His confidence in the utility of the telegraph company was wofully shaken.
By this time Harvey had arrived on a mule, and the two operators dashed away as fast as their animals would carry them.
As they galloped along Harry shouted toHarvey, who kept ahead most of the time, for his mule was faster than Selim:
"Hello, Harvey! If Miles couldn't get across, how can either of us go over?"
"Oh, I reckon the creek isn't much up yet," answered Harvey. "Miles is easily frightened."
So, on they rode, hoping for the best; but when they reached the creek they saw, to their dismay, that the water was much higher already than it usually rose in the summer-time. The low grounds on each side were overflowed, and nothing could be seen of the bridge but the tops of two upright timbers near its middle.
It was certainly very unfortunate that both the operators were on the same side of the stream!
"This is a pretty piece of business," cried Harry. "I didn't expect the creek to get up so quickly as this. I was down here yesterday, and it hadn't risen at all. I tell you, Harvey, you ought to live on the other side."
"Or else you ought," said Harvey.
"No," said Harry; "this is my station."
Harvey had no answer ready for this, but asthey were hurriedly fastening Selim and the mule to trees near Lewston's cabin, he said:
"Perhaps Mr. Lyons may come down and work the other end of the line."
"He can't get off," said Harry. "He has his own office to attend to. And, besides, that wouldn't do. We must work our own line, especially at the very beginning. It would look nice—now, wouldn't it?—to wait until Mr. Lyons could come over from Hetertown before we could commence operations!"
"Well, what can we do?" asked Harvey.
"Why, one of us must get across, somehow."
"I don't see how it's going to be done," said Harvey, as they ran down to the edge of the water. "I reckon we'll have to holler our messages across, as Tony said; only there isn't anybody to holler to."
"I don't know how it's to be done either," said Harry; "but one of us must get over, some way or other."
"Couldn't we wade to the bridge," asked Harvey, "and then walk over on it? I don't believe it's more than up to our waists on the bridge."
"You don't know how deep it is," said Harry; "and when you get to the bridge, ten to one more than half the planks have been floated off, and you'd go slump to the bottom of the creek before you knew it. There's no way but to get a boat."
"I don't know where you're going to find one," said Harvey. "There's a boat up at the mill-pond, but you couldn't get it out and down here in much less than a day."
"John Walker has his boat afloat again," said Harry, "but that's over on the other side. What a nuisance it is that there isn't anybody over there! If we didn't want 'em, there'd be about sixty or seventy darkies hanging about now."
"Oh, no!" said Harvey, "not so many as that; not over forty-seven."
"I'm going over to Lewston's. Perhaps he knows of a boat," said Harry; and away he ran.
But Lewston was not in his cabin, and so Harry hurried along a road in the woods that led by another negro cabin about a half-mile away, thinking that the old man had gone offin that direction. Every minute or two he shouted at the top of his voice, "Oh, Lewston!"
Very soon he heard some one shouting in reply, and he recognized Lewston's voice. It seemed to come from the creek.
Thereupon, Harry made his way through the trees and soon caught sight of the old colored man. He was in a boat, poling his way along in the shallow water as close to dry land as the woods allowed him, and sometimes, where the trees were wide apart, sending the boat right between some of their tall trunks.
"Hello, Lewston," cried Harry, running as near as he could go without getting his shoes wet, for the water ran up quite a distance among the trees in some places. "What are you about? Where did you get that boat? I want a boat."
"Dat's jist what I thought, Mah'sr Harry," said Lewston, still poling away as hard as he could. "I know de compuny'd want to git ober de creek, an' I jist went up to Hiram Anderson's and borrowed his ole boat. Ise been a-bailing her out all de mornin'."
"You're a trump, Lewston," said Harry."Pole her down opposite your house, and then one of us will go over. Why don't you go out farther? You can't get along half as fast in here by the trees and hummocks as you could in deeper water."
"You don't ketch me out dar in dat runnin' water," said Lewston. "I'd be in the middle afore I knowed it, and dis pole's pooty short."
"Well, come along as fast as you can," cried Harry, "and I'll run down to your house and get your axe to cut a longer pole."
By the time Harry had found a tall young sapling, and had cut it down and trimmed it off, Lewston arrived with the boat.
CHAPTER XXIII.Crossing the Creek.
"Now, then," said Harry, "here's the boat and a good pole, and you've nothing to do, Harvey, but just to get in and push yourself over to your station as fast as you can."
But the situation did not seem to strike Harvey very favorably. He looked rather dissatisfied with the arrangement made for him.
"I can't swim," he said. "At least, not much, you know."
"Well, who wants you to swim?" said Harry, laughing. "That's a pretty joke. Are you thinking of swimming across, and towing the boat after you? You can push her over easy enough; that pole will reach the bottom anywhere."
"Dat's so," said old Lewston. "It'll touch de bottom ob de water, but I don't know 'bout de bottom ob de mud. Ye musn't push herdown too deep. Dar's 'bout as much mud as water out dar in de creek."
The more they talked about the matter, the greater became Harvey's disinclination to go over. He was not a coward, but he was not used to the water or the management of a boat, and the trip seemed much more difficult to him than it would have appeared to a boy accustomed to boating.
"I tell you what we'll do," cried Harry, at last. "You take my station, Harvey, and I'll go over and work your end of the line."
There was no opposition to this plan, and so Harry hurried off with Harvey to Lewston's cabin and helped him to make the connections and get the line in working order at that end, and then he ran down to the boat, jumped in, and Lewston pushed him off.
Harry poled the boat along quite easily through the shallow water, and when he got farther out he found that he proceeded with still greater ease, only he did not go straight across, but went a little too much down stream.
But he pushed out strongly toward the opposite shore, and soon reached the middle ofthe creek. Then he began to go down stream very fast indeed. Push and pole as he would, he seemed to have no control whatever over the boat. He had had no idea that the current would be so strong.
On he went, right down toward the bridge, and as the boat swept over it, one end struck an upright beam that projected above the water, and the clumsy craft was jerked around with such violence that Harry nearly tumbled into the creek.
He heard Lewston and Harvey shouting to him, but he paid no attention to them. He was working with all his strength to get the boat out of the current and into shallower water. But as he found that he was not able to do that, he made desperate efforts to stop the boat by thrusting his pole into the bottom. It was not easy to get the pole into the mud, the current was so strong; but he succeeded at last, by pushing it out in front of him, in forcing it into the bottom; and then, in a moment, it was jerked out of his hand, as the boat swept on, and, a second time, he came near tumbling overboard.
Now he was helpless. No, there was the short pole that Lewston had left in the boat.
He picked it up, but he could do nothing with it. If it had been an oar, now, it might have been of some use. He tried to pull up the seat, but it was nailed fast.
On he rapidly floated, down the middle of the stream; the boat sometimes sidewise, sometimes with one end foremost, and sometimes the other. Very soon he lost sight of Lewston and Harvey, and the last he saw of them they were hurrying by the edge of the water, in the woods. Now he sat down, and looked about him. The creek appeared to be getting wider and wider, and he thought that if he went on at that rate he must soon come to the river. The country seemed unfamiliar to him. He had never seen it, from the water, when it was overflowed in this way.
He passed a wide stretch of cultivated fields, mostly planted in tobacco, but he could not recollect what farmer had tobacco down by the creek this year. There were some men at work on a piece of rising ground, but they were a longway off. Still, Harry shouted to them, but they did not appear to hear him.
Then he passed on among the trees again, bumping against stumps, turning and twisting, but always keeping out in the middle of the current. He began to be very uneasy, especially as he now saw, what he had not noticed before, that the boat was leaking badly.
He made up his mind that he must do something soon, even if he had to take off his clothes and jump in and try to swim to shore. But this, he was well aware, would be hard work in such a current.
Looking hurriedly around, he saw, a short distance before him, a tree that appeared to stand almost in the middle of the creek, with its lower branches not very high above the water. The main current swirled around this tree, and the boat was floating directly toward it.
Harry's mind was made up in an instant. He stood up on the seat, and as the boat passed under the tree he seized the lowest branch.
In a moment the boat was jerked from under his feet, and he hung suspended over the rushing water.
He gripped the branch with all his strength, and giving his legs a swing, got his feet over it. Then, after two or three attempts, he managed to draw himself up and get first one leg and then his whole body over the branch. Then he sat up and shuffled along to the trunk, against which he leaned with one arm around it, all in a perspiration, and trembling with the exertion and excitement.
When he had rested awhile, he stood up on the limb and looked toward the land. There, to his joy, he saw, at a little distance, a small log-house, and there was some one living in it, for he saw smoke coming from the log and mud chimney that was built up against one end of the cabin.
Harry gave a great shout, and then another, and another, and presently a negro woman came out of the cabin and looked out over the creek. Then three colored children came tumbling out, and they looked out over the creek.
Then Harry shouted again, and the woman saw him.
"Hello, dar!" she cried. "Who's dat?"
"It's me! Harry Loudon."
"Harry Loudon?" shouted the woman, running down to the edge of the water. "Mah'sr John Loudon's son Harry? What you doin' dar? Is you fishin'?"
"Fishing!" cried Harry. "No! I want to get ashore. Have you a boat?"
"A boat! Lors a massy! I got no boat, Mah'sr Harry. How did ye git dar?"
"Oh, I got adrift, and my boat's gone! Isn't there any man about?"
"No man about here," said the woman. "My ole man's gone off to de railroad. But he'll be back dis evenin'."
"I can't wait here till he comes," cried Harry. "Haven't you a rope and some boards to make a raft?"
"Lor', no! Mah'sr Harry. I got no boards."
"Tell ye what ye do, dar," shouted the biggest boy, a woolly-heady urchin, with nothing on but a big pair of trousers that came up under his arms and were fastened over his shoulders by two bits of string, "jist you come on dis side and jump down, an' slosh ashore."
"It's too deep," cried Harry.
"No, 'tain't," said the boy. "I sloshed out to dat tree dis mornin'."
"You did, you Pomp!" cried his mother. "Oh! I'll lick ye fur dat, when I git a-hold of ye!"
"Did you, really?" cried Harry.
"Yes, I did," shouted the undaunted Pomp. "I sloshed out dar an' back agin."
"But the water's higher now," said Harry.
"No, 'tain't," said the woman. "Tain't riz much dis mornin'. Done all de risin' las' night. Dat tree's jist on de edge of de creek bank. If Pomp could git along dar, you kin, Mah'sr Harry! Did ye go out dar, sure 'nuff, you Pomp? Mind, if ye didn't, I'll lick ye!"
"Yes, I did," said Pomp; "clar out dar an' back agin."
"Then I'll try it," cried Harry; and clambering around the trunk of the tree, he jumped off as far as he could toward shore.
CHAPTER XXIV.The First Business Telegrams.
When Harry jumped from the tree, he came down on his feet, in water not quite up to his waist, and then he pushed in toward land as fast as he could go. In a few minutes, he stood in the midst of the colored family, his trousers and coat-tails dripping, and his shoes feeling like a pair of wet sponges.
"Ye ought to have rolled up yer pants and tooked off yer shoes and stockin's afore ye jumped, Mah'sr Harry," said the woman.
"I wish I had taken off my shoes," said Harry.
The woman at whose cabin Harry found himself was Charity Allen, and a good, sensible woman she was. She made Harry hurry into the house, and she got him her husband's Sunday trousers, which she had just washed and ironed, and insisted on his putting them on,while she dried his own. She hung his stockings and his coat before the fire, and made one of the boys rub his shoes with a cloth so as to dry them as much as possible before putting them near the fire.
Harry was very impatient to be off, but Charity was so certain that he would catch his death of cold if he started before his clothes were dry that he allowed himself to be persuaded to wait.
And then she fried some salt pork, on which, with a great piece of corn-bread, he made a hearty meal, for he was very hungry.
"Have you had your dinner, Charity?" he asked.
"Oh, yes, Mah'sr Harry; long time ago," she said.
"Then it must be pretty late," said Harry, anxiously.
"Oh, no!" said she; "'tain't late. I reckon it can't be much mor' 'n four o'clock."
"Four o'clock!" shouted Harry, jumping up in such a hurry that he nearly tripped himself in Uncle Oscar's trousers, which were much too long for him. "Why, that's dreadfully late.Where can the day have gone? I must be off, instantly!"
So much had happened since morning, that it was no wonder that Harry had not noticed how the hours had flown.
The ride to the creek, the discussions there, the delay in getting the boat, the passage down the stream, which was much longer than Harry had imagined, and the time he had spent in the tree and in the cabin, had, indeed, occupied the greater part of the day.
And even now he was not able to start. Though he urged her as much as he could, he could not make Charity understand that it was absolutely necessary that he must have his clothes, wet or dry; and he did not get them until they were fit to put on. And then his shoes were not dry, but, as he intended to run all the way to Aunt Judy's cabin, that did not matter so much.
"How far is it to Aunt Judy's?" he asked, when at last he was ready to start.
"Well, I reckons it's 'bout six or seben miles, Mah'sr Harry," said Charity.
"Six or seven miles!" exclaimed Harry. "When shall I get there!"
"Now don't hurry and git yese'f all in a heat," said Charity. "Jist keep along dis path fru de woods till ye strike de road, and that'll take ye straight to de bridge. Wish I had a mule to len' ye."
"Good-by, Charity," cried Harry. "I'm ever so much obliged." And hurriedly searching his vest pockets, he found a ten-cent note and a few pennies, which he gave to the children, who grinned in silent delight, and then he started off on a run.
But he did not run all the way.
Before long he began to tire a little, and then he settled down into a fast walk. He felt that he must hurry along as fast as he was able. The fortunes of the Crooked Creek Telegraph Company depended upon him. If the company failed in this, its first opportunity, there was no hope for it.
So on he walked, and before very long he struck the main road. Here he thought he should be able to get along faster, but there was no particular reason for it. In fact, the openroad was rather rougher than that through the woods. But it was cooler here than under the heavy, overhanging trees.
And now Harry first noticed that the sun was not shining. At least, it was behind the western hills. It must be growing very late, he thought.
On he went, for a mile or two, and then it began to grow dusky. Night was surely coming on.
At a turn in the wood, he met a negro boy with a tin bucket on his head. Harry knew him. It was Tom Haskins.
"Hello, Tom!" said Harry, stopping for a moment; "I want you."
"What you want, Mah'sr Harry?" asked Tom.
"I want you to come to Aunt Judy's cabin and carry some messages over to Hetertown for me."
"When you want me?" said Tom; "to-morrer mornin'?"
"No; I want you to-night. This minute. I'll pay you."
"To-night?" cried the astonished Tom."Go ober dar in de dark! Can't do dat, Mah'sr Harry. Ise 'fraid to go fru de woods in de dark."
"Nonsense," cried Harry. "Nothing's going to hurt you. Come on over."
"Can't do it, Mah'sr Harry, no how," said Tom. "Ise got ter tote dis hyar buttermilk home; dey's a-waitin' fur it now. But p'r'aps Jim'll go fur you. He kin borrer a mule and go fur you, Mah'sr Harry, I 'spects."
"Well, tell Jim to get a mule and come to Aunt Judy's just as quick as he can. I'll pay him right well."
"Dat's so, Mah'sr Harry; Jim'll go 'long fur ye. I'll tell him."
"Now be quick about it," cried Harry. "I'm in a great hurry." And off he started again.
But as he hurried along, his legs began to feel stiff and his feet were sore. He had walked very fast, so far, but now he was obliged to slacken his pace.
And it grew darker and darker. Harry thought he had never seen night come on so fast. It was certainly a long distance from Charity's cabin to Aunt Judy's.
At last he reached the well-known woods near the bridge, and off in a little opening he saw Aunt Judy's cabin. It was so dark now that he would not have known it was a cabin, had he not been so familiar with it.
Curiously enough, there was no light to be seen in the house. Harry hurried to the door and found it shut. He tried to open it, and it was locked. Had Aunt Judy gone away? She never went away; it was foolish to suppose such a thing.
He knocked upon the door, and receiving no answer, he knocked louder, and then he kicked. In a minute or two, during which he kept up a continual banging and calling on the old woman, he heard a slight movement inside. Then he knocked and shouted, "Aunt Judy!"
"Who dar!" said a voice within.
"It's me! Harry Loudon!" cried Harry. "Let me in!"
"What ye want dar?" said Aunt Judy. "Go 'way from dar."
"I want to come in. Open the door."
"Can't come in hyar. Ise gone to bed."
"But I must come in," cried Harry, in desperation;"I've got to work the line. They're waiting for me. Open the door, do you hear Aunt Judy?"
"Go 'way wid yer line," said Aunt Judy, crossly. "Ise abed. Come in der mornin'. Time enough in de day-time to work lines."
Harry now began to get angry. He found a stone and he banged the door. He threatened Aunt Judy with the law. He told her she had no right to go to bed and keep the company out of their station, when the creek was up; but, from her testy answers, his threats seemed to have made but little impression upon her. She didn't care if they stopped her pay, or fined her, or sent her to prison. She never heard of "sich bisness, a-wakin' people out of their beds in the middle o' the night fur dem foolin' merchines."
But Harry's racket had a good effect, after all. It woke Aunt Judy, and after a time she got out of bed, uncovered the fire, blew up a little blaze, lighted a candle, and putting on some clothes, came and opened the door, grumbling all the time.
"Now den," said she, holding the candle over her head, and looking like a black Witch ofEnder just out of the ground, "What you want?"
"I want to come in," said Harry.
"Well, den, come in," said she.
Harry was not slow to enter, and having made Aunt Judy bring him two candles, which he told her the company would pay for, he set to work to get his end of the line in working order.
When all was ready, he sat down to the instrument and "called" Harvey.
He felt very anxious as he did this. How could he be sure that Harvey was there? What a long time for that poor fellow to wait, without having any assurance that Harry would get across the creek at all, much less reach his post, and go to work.
"He may suppose I'm drowned," thought Harry, "and he may have gone home to tell the folks."
But there was such a sterling quality about Harvey that Harry could not help feeling that he would find him in his place when he telegraphed to him, no matter how great the delay or how doubtful the passage of the creek.
But when he called there was no answer.
Still he kept the machine steadily ticking. He would not give up hoping that Harvey was there, although his heart beat fast with nervous anxiety. So far, he had not thought that his family might be frightened about him.Heknew he was safe, and that had been enough. He had not thought about other people.
But as these ideas were running through his head and troubling him greatly, there came a "tick, tick" from the other side, then more of them, but they meant nothing. Some one was there who could not work the instrument.
Then suddenly came a message:
Is that you, Harry?
Is that you, Harry?
Joyfully, Harry answered:
Yes. Who wants to know?
Yes. Who wants to know?
The answer was:
Your father. He has just waked me up.—Harvey.
Your father. He has just waked me up.—Harvey.
With a light heart, Harry telegraphed, as briefly as possible, an account of his adventures; and then his father sent a message, telling him that the family had heard that he had been carried away, and had been greatly troubled abouthim, and that men had ridden down the stream after him, and had not returned, and that he, Mr. Loudon, had just come to Lewston's cabin, hoping for news by telegraph. Harvey had been there all day. Mr. Loudon said he would now hurry home with the good news, but before bidding his son good night, he told him that he must not think of returning until the creek had fallen. He must stay at Aunt Judy's, or go over to Hetertown.
When this had been promised, and a message sent to his mother and Kate, Harry hastened to business. He telegraphed to Harvey to transmit the company's messages as fast as he could; a boy would soon be there to take them over to Hetertown. The answer came:
What messages?
What messages?
Then Harry suddenly remembered that he had had the messages in the breast-pocket of his coat all the time!
He dived at his pocket. Yes, there they were!
Was there ever such a piece of absurdity? He had actually carried those despatches across the creek! After all the labor and expense ofbuilding the telegraph, this had been the way that the first business messages had crossed Crooked Creek!
When Harry made this discovery he burst out laughing. Why, he might as well have carried them to Hetertown from Charity's cabin. It would really have been better, for the distance was not so great.
Although he laughed, he felt a little humiliated. How Tom Selden, and indeed everybody, would laugh if they knew it!
But there was no need to tell everybody, and so when he telegraphed the fact to Harvey, he enjoined secrecy. He knew he could trust Harvey.
And now he became anxious about Jim. Would he be able to borrow a mule, and would he come?
Every few minutes he went to the door and listened for the sound of approaching hoofs, but nothing was to be heard but the low snoring of Aunt Judy, who was fast asleep in a chair by the fireplace.
While thus waiting, a happy thought came into Harry's head. He opened the messages—hehad a right to do that, of course, as he was an operator and had undertaken to transmit them—and he telegraphed them, one by one, to Harvey, with instructions to him to send them back to him.
"They shall come over the creek on our line, anyway," said Harry to himself.
It did not take long to send them and to receive them again, for there were only three of them. Then Harvey sent a message, congratulating Harry on this happy idea, and also suggested that he, Harvey, should now ride home, as it was getting late, and it was not likely that there would be any more business that night.
Harry agreed to this, urging Harvey to return early in the morning, and then he set to work to write out the messages. The company had not yet provided itself with regular forms, but Harry copied the telegrams carefully on note-paper, with which, with pen and ink, each station was furnished, writing them, as far as possible, in the regular form and style of the ordinary telegraphic despatch. Then he put them in an envelope and directed them to Mr. Lyons, atHetertown, indorsing them, "In haste. To be transmitted to destination immediately."
"Now then," thought he, "nobody need know how these came over in the first place, until we choose to tell them, and we won't do that until we've sent over some messages in the regular way, and have proved that our line is really of some use. And we won't charge the Mica Company anything for these despatches. But yet, I don't know about that. I certainly brought them over, and trouble enough I had to do it. I'll see about charging, after I've talked it over with somebody. I reckon I'll ask father about that. And I haven't delayed the messages, either; for I've been waiting for Jim. I wonder where that boy can be!" And again Harry went out of doors to listen.
Had he known that Jim was at that moment fast asleep in his bed at home, Harry need not have gone to the door so often.
At last our operator began to be very sleepy, and having made up his mind that if Jim arrived he would certainly wake him up, he aroused Aunt Judy, who was now too sleepy to scold, and having succeeded in getting her to lend hima blanket (it was her very best blanket, which she kept for high days and holidays, and if she had been thoroughly awake she would not have lent it for the purpose), and having spread it on the floor, he lay down on it and was soon asleep.
Aunt Judy blew out one of the candles and set the other on the hearth. Then she stumbled drowsily into the next room and shut the door after her. In a few minutes every living creature in and about the place was fast asleep, excepting some tree-frogs and katydids outside, who seemed to have made up their minds to stay up all night.