CHAPTER XXV.Profits and Projects
The next morning, Harry was up quite early, and after having eaten a very plain breakfast, which Aunt Judy prepared for him, he ran down to the creek to see what chance there was for business.
There seemed to be a very good chance, for the creek had not fallen, that was certain. If there was any change at all, the water seemed a little higher than it was before.
Before long, Harvey arrived on the other side, accompanied by Tom Selden and Wilson Ogden, who were very anxious to see how matters would progress, now that there was some real work to do.
The boys sent messages and greetings backward and forward to each other for about an hour, and then old Miles arrived with his mailbag,which contained quite a number of telegrams, this time.
Not only were there those on the business of the Mica Company, but Mr. Darby, the storekeeper at Akeville, thought it necessary to send a message to Hetertown by the new line, and there were two or three other private telegrams, that would probably never have been sent had it not been for the novelty of the thing.
But that rascal, Jim Haskins, did not make his appearance, and when Harry found that it was not likely that he would come at all, he induced Aunt Judy to go out and look for some one to carry the telegrams to Hetertown. Harry had just finished copying the messages—and this took some time, for he wrote each one of them in official form—when Aunt Judy returned, bringing with her a telegraphic messenger.
It was Uncle Braddock.
"Here's a man to take yer letters," said Aunt Judy, as she ushered in the old man.
Harry looked up from his table in surprise.
"Why, Uncle Braddock," said he, "you can't carry these telegrams. I want a boy, on a mule or a horse, to go as fast as he can."
"Lor' bress ye, Mah'sr Harry," said the old negro, "I kin git along fas' enough. Aunt Judy said ye wanted Jim, an' Nobleses mule; but dat dar mule he back hindwards jist about as much as he walks frontwards. I jist keep right straight along, an' I kin beat dat dar ole mule, all holler. Jist gim me yer letters, an' I'll tote 'em ober dar fur ten cents. Ye see I wuz cotched on dis side de creek, an' wuz jist comin ober to see Aunt Judy, when she telled me ob dis job. I'll tote yer letters, Mah'sr Harry, fur ten cents fur de bag-full."
"I haven't a bag-full," said Harry; "but I reckon you'll have to take them. There's nobody else about, it seems, and I can't leave the station."
So Uncle Braddock was engaged as telegraph-boy, and Harry having promised him twenty cents to go to Hetertown and to return with any telegrams that were there awaiting transmission to the other side of the creek, the old man set off with his little package, in high good humor with the idea of earning money by no harder work than walking a few miles.
Shortly after noon, he returned with a fewmessages from Hetertown, and by that time there were some for him to carry back. So he made two trips and forty cents that day—quite an income for Uncle Braddock.
In the evening, Jim Haskins made his appearance with his mule. He said his brother hadn't told him anything about Harry's wanting him until that afternoon. Notwithstanding Uncle Braddock's discouraging account of the mule, Jim was engaged as messenger during the time that the creek should be up, and Uncle Braddock was promised a job whenever an important message should come during Jim's absence.
The next day it rained, and the creek was up, altogether, for five days. During this time the telegraph company did a good deal of paying business. Harry remained at his station, and boarded and lodged with Aunt Judy. He frequently sent messages to his father and mother and Kate, and never failed, from an early hour in the morning until dark, to find the faithful Harvey at his post.
At last the creek "fell," and the bridge became again passable to Miles and his waddlinghorse. The operators disconnected their wires, put their apparatus in order, locked the wooden cases over their instruments, and rode in triumph (Mr. Loudon had come in the buggy for Harry) to Akeville.
Harry was received with open arms by his mother and Kate; and Mrs. Loudon declared that this should be the last time that he should go on such an expedition.
She was right.
The next afternoon there was a meeting of the Board of Managers of the Crooked Creek Telegraph Company, and the Secretary, having been hard at work all the morning, with the assistance of the Treasurer and the President, made a report of the financial results of the recent five days' working of the company's line.
It is not necessary to go into particulars, but when the sums due the company from the Mica Company and sundry private individuals had been set down on the one side, and the amounts due from the telegraph company to Aunt Judy for candles and board and lodging for one operator; to Uncle Braddock and Jim Haskins forservices as messengers; to Hiram Anderson for damages to boat (found near the river, stuck fast among some fallen timber, with one end badly battered by floating logs), and for certain extras in the way of additional stationery, etc., which it had become necessary to procure from Hetertown, had been set down on the other side, and the difference between the sums total had been calculated, it was found, and duly reported, that the company had made six dollars and fifty-three cents.
This was not very encouraging. It was seldom that the creek was up more than five days at a time, and so this was a very favorable opportunity of testing the value of the line as a money-making concern.
It was urged, however, by the more sanguine members of the Board that this was not a fair trial. There had been many expenses which probably would not have to be incurred again.
"But they didn't amount to so very much," said Kate, who, as Treasurer, was present at the meeting. "Aunt Judy only charged a dollar and a half for Harry's board, and the boat wasonly a dollar. And all the other expenses would have to be expected any time."
After some further conversation on the subject, it was thought best to attend to present business rather than future prospects, and to appoint committees to collect the money due the company.
Harry and Tom Selden were delegated to visit the mica-mine people, while Harvey, Wilson Ogden, and Brandeth Price composed the committee to collect what was due from private individuals.
Before Harry started for the mica mine, he consulted his father in regard to charging full price for the telegrams which he carried across the creek in his pocket.
Mr. Loudon laughed a good deal at the transaction, but he told Harry that there was no reason why he should not charge for those telegrams. He had certainly carried them over in the first place, and the subsequent double transmission over the wire was his own affair.
When Harry and Tom rode over to the mica mine the next morning, and explained their business and presented their bill, their account wasfound to be correct, and the amount of the bill was promptly handed to them.
When this little business had been transacted, Mr. Martin, the manager of the mine, invited them to sit down in his office and have a talk.
"This line of yours," said he, "is not going to pay you."
"Why not?" asked Harry, somewhat disturbed in mind by this sudden statement of what he had already begun to fear was an unpleasant truth.
"Ithaspaid us," said Tom Selden. "Why, we've only been working it five days, on regular business, and we've cleared—well, we've cleared considerable."
"That may be," said the manager, smiling, "but you can't have made very much, for you must have a good many expenses. The principal reason why I think it won't pay you is that you have to keep up two stations, and you all live on this side of the creek. I've heard that one of you had a hard time getting over the creek last week."
"That was Harry," said Tom.
"So I supposed," said Mr. Martin; "and itmust have been a pretty dangerous trip. Now it won't do to do that sort of thing often; and you can't tell when the creek's going to rise, so as to be over before the bridge is flooded."
"That's true," said Harry. "Crooked Creek doesn't give much notice when it's going to rise."
"No, it don't," continued Mr. Martin. "And it won't do, either, for any one of you to live on the other side, just to be ready to work the line in time of freshets. The creek isn't up often enough to make that pay."
"But what can we do?" asked Harry. "You surely don't think we're going to give up this telegraph line just as it begins to work, and after all the money that's been spent on it, and the trouble we've had?"
"No, I don't think you are the kind of fellows to give up a thing so soon, and we don't want you to give it up, for it's been a great deal of use to us already. What I think you ought to do is to run your line from the other side of the creek to Hetertown. Then you'd have no trouble at all. When the creek was up you could go down and work this end, and anarrangement could easily be made to have the operator at Hetertown work the other end, and then it would be all plain sailing. He could send the telegrams right on, on the regular line, and there would be no trouble or expense with messengers from the creek over to Hetertown."
"That would be a splendid plan," said Harry; "but it would cost like everything to have a long line like that."
"It wouldn't cost very much," said Mr. Martin. "There are pine woods nearly all the way, by the side of the road, and so it wouldn't cost much for poles. And you've got the instruments for that end of the line. All you'll have to do would be to take them over to Hetertown. You wouldn't have to spend any money except for wire and for trimming off the trees and putting up the wire."
"But that would be more than we could afford," said Tom Selden. "You ought just to try to make the people about here subscribe to anything, and you'd see what trouble it is to raise money out of them."
"Oh, I don't think you need let the want of money enough to buy a few miles of wire preventyour putting up a really useful line," said Mr. Martin; "our company would be willing to help you about that, I'm sure."
"If you'd help, that would make it altogether another thing," said Harry; "but you'd have to help a good deal."
"Well, we would help a good deal," said Mr. Martin. "It would be to our benefit, you know, to have a good line. That's what we want, and we're willing to put some money in it. I suppose there'd be no difficulty in getting permission to put up the line on the land between the creek and Hetertown?"
"Oh, no!" said Harry. "A good part of the woods along the road belong to father, and none of the people along there would object to us boys putting up our line on their land."
"I thought they wouldn't," said Mr. Martin. "I'll talk to our people about this, and see what they think of it."
As Harry and Tom rode home, Harry remarked, "Mr. Martin's a trump, isn't he? I hope the rest of the mica-mine people will agree with him."
"I don't believe they will," said Tom."Why, you see they'd have to pay for the whole thing, and I reckon they won't be in a hurry to do that. But wouldn't we have a splendid line if they were to do it?"
"I should say so," said Harry. "It's almost too good a thing to expect. I'm afraid Mr. Martin won't feel quite so generous when he calculates what it will cost."
CHAPTER XXVI.A Grand Proposition.
The summer vacation was now over, and the Board of Managers of the telegraph company, as well as the other boys of the vicinity, were obliged to go to school again and study something besides the arts of making money and transacting telegraphic business. But as there was not much business of this kind to be done, the school interfered with the company's affairs in little else than the collection of money due from private individuals for telegraphic services rendered during the late "rise" in the creek. The committee which had charge of this collection labored very faithfully for some time, and before and after school and during the noon recess, the members thereof made frequent visits to the houses of the company's debtors. As there were not more than half-a-dozen debtors, it might have been supposedthat the business would be speedily performed. But such was not the case. Mr. Darby, the storekeeper, paid his bill promptly; and old Mr. Truly Matthews, who had telegraphed to Washington to a nephew in the Patent Office Department, "just to see how it would go," paid what he owed on the eighth visit of Wilson Ogden to his house. He had not seen "how it would go," for his nephew had not answered him, either by telegraph or mail, and he was in no hurry to pay up, but he could not stand "that boy opening his gate three times a day." As for the rest, they promised to settle as soon as they could get some spare cash—which happy time they expected would arrive when they sold their tobacco.
It is to be supposed that no one ever bought their tobacco, for they never paid up.
The proceeds of the five days of telegraphing, together with the money obtained by the sale of Harry's gun, were spent by Kate for Aunt Matilda's benefit; and as she knew that it might be a good while before there would be any more money coming, Kate was as economical as she could be.
It was all very proper and kind to make the old woman's income hold out as long as possible, but Aunt Matilda did not like this systematic and economical way of living. It was too late in life for her, she said, "to do more measurin' at a meal than chewin';" and so she became discouraged, and managed, one fine morning, to hobble up to see Mrs. Loudon about it.
"Ise afraid dese chillen ain't a-gwine to hold out," said she. "I don know but what I'd better go 'long to the poor-house, arter all. And there's that money I put inter de comp'ny. I ain't seen nothin' come o' dat ar money yit."
"How much did you put in, Aunt Matilda?" asked Mrs. Loudon.
"Well, I needn't be a-sayin' jist how much it was; but it was solid silver, anyway, and I don't reckon I'll ever see any of it back again. But it don't differ much. Ise an old woman, and them chillen is a-doin' their best."
"Yes, they are," said Mrs. Loudon; "and I think they're doing very well, too. You haven't suffered for anything lately, have you?"
"Well, no," said the old woman, "I can'tsay that I've gone hungry or nuthin'; but I was only a-gittin' 'fraid I might. Dis hyar 'tic'lar way o' doin' things makes a person scary."
"I am glad that Kate is particular," said Mrs. Loudon. "You know, Aunt Matilda, that money isn't very plenty with any of us, and we all have to learn to make it go as far as it will. I don't think you need feel 'scary,' if Kate's economy is all you have to fear."
This interview somewhat reassured Aunt Matilda, but she was not altogether satisfied with the state of things. The fact was that she had supposed that the telegraph company would bring in so much money that she would be able to live in what to her would be a state of comparative luxury. And instead of that, Kate had been preaching economy and systematic management to her. No wonder she was disappointed, and a little out of humor with her young guardians.
But for all that, if Harry or Kate had fallen into a fiery crater, Aunt Matilda would have hurried in after them as fast as her old legs would have carried her.
She went back to her cabin, after a while, andshe continued to have her three meals a day all the same as usual; but if she could have seen, as Kate saw, how steadily the little fund for her support was diminishing day by day, she would have had some reason for her apprehensions.
It was on a pleasant Saturday in early September, that Harry stood looking over the front gate in his father's yard. Kate was at the dining-room window, sewing. Harry was thinking, and Kate was wondering what he was thinking about. She thought she knew, and she called out to him: "I expect old Mr. Matthews would lend you a gun, Harry."
"Yes, I suppose he would," said Harry, turning and slowly walking up toward the house; "but father told me not to borrow a gun from Truly Matthews. It's a shame, though, to stay here when the fields are just chock full of partridges. I never knew them so plenty in all my life. It's just the way things go."
"It is a pity about your gun," said Kate. "There's some one at the gate, Harry. Hadn't you better go and see what he wants? Father won't be home until after dinner, you can tell him."
Harry turned.
"It's Mr. Martin," said he, and he went down to the gate to meet him.
"How do you do, Mr. President?" said Mr. Martin. "I rode over here this morning, and thought I would come and see you."
Harry shook hands with his visitor, and invited him to walk into the house; but after Mr. Martin had dismounted and fastened his horse, he thought that the seat under the catalpa-tree looked so cool and inviting, that he proposed that they should sit down there and have a little chat.
"I have been thinking about the extension of your telegraph line," said the manager of the mica mine, "and have talked it over with our people. They agree with me that it would be a good thing, and we have determined, if it suits you and your company, that we will advance the money necessary to carry out the scheme."
"I'm glad to hear that," said Harry; "but, as I said before, you'll have to bear the whole expense, and it will cost a good deal to carry the line from the creek all the way to Hetertown."
"Yes, it will cost some money," said Mr. Martin "but our idea is that you ought to have a complete line while you are about it, and that it ought to run from our mine to Hetertown."
"From your mine to Hetertown!" exclaimed Harry, in astonishment.
"Yes," said Mr. Martin, smiling. "That is the kind of a line that is really needed. You see, our business is increasing, and we are buying land which we intend to sell out in small farms, and so expect to build up quite a little village out there in time. So you can understand that we would like to be in direct communication with Richmond and the North. And if we can have it by means of your line, we are ready to put the necessary funds into the work."
Harry was so amazed at this statement, that he could hardly find words with which to express himself.
"Why, that would give us a regular, first-class telegraph line!" he exclaimed.
"Certainly," said Mr. Martin, "and that's the only kind of a line that is really worth anything."
"I don't know what to think about it," said Harry. "I didn't expect you to propose anything like this."
"Well," said Mr. Martin, rising, "I must be off. I had only a few minutes to spare, but I thought I had better come and make you this proposition. I think you had better lay it before your Board of Managers as soon as possible, and if you will take my advice, as a business man, you'll accept our offer."
So saying, he bid Harry good-by, took off his hat to Kate, who was still looking out of the window, mounted his horse, and rode away.
There was a meeting of the Board of Managers of the Crooked Creek Telegraph Company that afternoon. It was a full meeting, for Harry sent hasty messengers to those he called the "out-lying members."
A more astonished body of officials has seldom been seen than was our Board when Harry laid the proposition of Mr. Martin before it.
But the boys were not so much amazed that they could not jump at this wonderful opportunity and in a very short time it was unanimouslyvoted to accept the proposition of the mica-mine people, and to build the great line.
Almost as soon as this important vote had been taken, the meeting adjourned, and the members hurried to their several homes to carry the news.
"We'll have to change our name," said Tom Selden to Harry. "We ought to call our company 'The United States Mica and Hetertown Lightning Express Line,' or something big like that."
"Yes," replied Harry. "The A 1 double-action, back-spring, copper-fastened, broad-gauge telegraph line from here to the moon!"
And away he ran to meet Kate, who was coming down the road.
CHAPTER XXVII.How Something Came to an End.
The mica-mine management appeared to be thoroughly in earnest about this extension of the telegraph line. As soon as the assent of the Board of Managers to the scheme had been communicated to them, they sent a note to Harry suggesting that he should, in the name of his company, get the written consent of owners of the lands over which the line would pass to the construction of said line on their property. This business was soon settled, for none of the owners of the farms between the mines and Hetertown, all of whom were well acquainted with Mr. Loudon (and no man in that part of the country was held in higher estimation by his neighbors), had the slightest objection to the boys putting up their telegraph line on their lands.
When Harry had secured the necessarypromises, the construction of the line was commenced forthwith. The boys had very little trouble with it. Mr. Martin got together a gang of men, with an experienced man to direct them, and came down with them to Akeville, where Harry hired them; and finding that the foreman understood the business, he told him to go to work and put up the line. When paydays came around, Harry gave each man an order for his money on the Mica Mine Company, and their wages were paid them by Mr. Martin.
It was not very long before the line was constructed and the instruments were in working order in Hetertown and at the mica mines. There was a person at the latter place who understood telegraphy, and he attended to the business at that end of the line, while Mr. Lyons worked the instruments at the Hetertown station, which was in the same building with the regular telegraph line.
It was agreed that the Mica Company should keep an account of all messages sent by them over the line, and should credit the Crooked Creek Telegraph Company with theamount due in payment, after deducting necessary expenses, hire of operators', and six per cent. on the capital advanced.
Everything having been arranged on this basis, the extended line went into operation, without regard to the amount of water in the creek, and old Miles carried no more telegrams to Hetertown.
The telegraph business, however, became much less interesting to Kate and the boys. It seemed to them as if it had been taken entirely out of their hands, which was, indeed, the true state of the case. They were the nominal owners and directors of the line, but they had nothing to direct, and very vague ideas about the value of the property they owned.
"I don't know," said Tom Selden, as he sat one afternoon in Mr. Loudon's yard, with Harry and Kate, "whether we've made much by this business or not. Those mica people keep all the accounts and do all the charging, and if they want to cheat us, I don't see what's to hinder them."
"But you know," said Harry, "that we can examine their accounts; and, besides, Mr.Lyons will keep a tally of all the messages sent, and I don't believe that he would cheat us."
"No; I don't suppose he would," said Tom; "but I liked the old way best. There was more fun in it."
"Yes, there was," said Kate; "and then we helped old Lewston and Aunt Judy. I expect they'll miss the money they got for rent."
"Certainly," said Harry. "They'll have to deny themselves many a luxury in consequence of the loss of that dollar a month."
"Now you're making fun," said Kate; "but twelve dollars a year is a good deal to those poor people."
"I suppose it is," said Harry. "In fifty years, it would be six hundred dollars, if they saved it all up, and that is a good deal of money, even to us rich folks."
"Rich!" said Kate. "We're so dreadfully rich that I have only forty-two cents left of Aunt Matilda's money, and I must have some very soon."
The consequence of this conversation was that Harry had to ride over to the mica minesand get a small advance on the payment due at the end of the month.
The end of the month arrived, and the settlement was made. When the interest on the money advanced to put up the line, hire of operators, and other expenses, had been deducted from the amount due the Crooked Creek Company, there was only two dollars and a quarter to be paid to it!
Harry was astounded. He took the money, rode back to Akeville, and hastened to have a consultation with Kate. For the first time since he became a guardian, he was in despair. This money was not enough for Aunt Matilda's needs, and if it had been, there were stockholders who were expecting great things from the recent extension of the line. What was to be said to them?
Harry did not know, and Kate could suggest nothing. It appeared to be quite plain that they had made a very bad business of this telegraphic affair. A meeting of the Board was called, and when each member had had his say, matters appeared worse than ever.
It was a very blue time for our friends.
As for Kate, she cried a good deal that afternoon.
The time had at last come when she felt they would have to give up Aunt Matilda. She was sure, if they had never started this telegraphic company, they might have struggled through the winter, but now there were stockholders and creditors and she did not know what all. She only knew that it was too much for them.
Three days after this, Harry received a note from Mr. Martin. When he read it, he gave a shout that brought everybody out of the house—Kate first. When she read the note, which she took from Harry as he was waving it around his head, she stood bewildered. She could not comprehend it.
And yet it simply contained a proposition from the Mica Mine Company to buy the Crooked Creek Telegraph Line, with all its rights and privileges, assuming all debts and liabilities, and to pay therefor the sum of three hundred and fifty dollars in cash!
Two days afterward, the line was formallysold to the Mica Company, and the Crooked Creek Telegraph Company came to an end.
When accounts were settled, Aunt Matilda's share of the proceeds of the sale were found to amount to two hundred and sixty-two dollars and fifty cents, which Kate deposited with Mr. Darby for safe keeping.
It was only the sky that now looked blue to Harry and Kate.
The Akeville people were a good deal surprised at this apparently singular transaction on the part of the Mica Company, but before long, their reasons for helping the boys to put up their line and then buying it, became plain enough.
The Mica Company had invested a large capital in mines and lands, and the business required telegraphic communication with the North. The managers knew that they might have a good deal of trouble to get permission to put up their line on the lands between the mines and Hetertown, and so they wisely helped the boys to put up the line, and then bought it of them, with all their rights and privileges.
There was probably some sharp practice in this transaction, but our young friends and Aunt Matilda profited by it.
CHAPTER XXVIII.A Meeting.
About a week after the dissolution of the Crooked Creek Company, Harry was riding over from Hetertown, and had nearly reached the creek on his way home, when he met George Purvis.
This was their first meeting since their fight, for George had been away on a visit to some relatives in Richmond.
When Harry saw George riding slowly toward him, he felt very much embarrassed, and very much annoyed because he was embarrassed.
How should he meet George? What should he say; or should he say anything?
He did not want to appear anxious to "make up" with him, nor did he want to seem as if he bore malice toward him. If he only knew how George felt about it!
As it was, he wished he had stopped somewhere on the road. He had thought of stopping at the mill—why had he not? That would just have given George time to pass.
Both boys appeared to be riding as slowly as their horses would consent to go, and yet when they met, Harry had not half made up his mind what he would say, or how he should say it, or whether it would be better or not to say anything.
"Hello, George!" said he, quite unpremeditatedly.
"Hello!" said George, reining in his horse "Where are you going?"
"Going home," said Harry, also stopping in the road.
Thus the quarrel came to an end.
"So you've sold the telegraph?" said George.
"Yes," said Harry. "And I think we made a pretty good bargain. I didn't think we'd do so well when we started."
"No, it didn't look like it," said George; "but those mica men mayn't find it such a good bargain for them."
"Why?" asked Harry.
"Well, suppose some of the people who own the land that the line's on, don't want these strangers to have a telegraph on their farms. What's to hinder them ordering them off?"
"They wouldn't do that," said Harry. "None of the people about here would be so mean. They'd know that it might upset our bargain. There isn't a man who would do it."
"All right," said George. "I hope they won't. But how are you going to keep the old woman now?"
"How?" said Harry. "Why, we can keep her easy enough. We got three hundred and fifty dollars from the Mica Company."
"And how much is her share?"
"Over two hundred and sixty," answered Harry.
"Is that all?" said George. "That won't give her much income. The interest on it will only be about fifteen dollars a year, and she can't live on that."
"But we didn't think of using only the interest," said Harry.
"So you're going to break in on the principal, are you? That's a poor way of doing."
"Oh, we'll get along well enough," said Harry. "Two hundred and sixty dollars is a good deal of money. Good-by! I must get on. Come up, Selim!"
"Good-by!" said George; and he spurred up his horse and rode off gayly.
But not so Harry. He was quite depressed in spirits by George's remarks. He wished he had not met him, and he determined that he would not bother his head by looking at the matter as George did. It was ridiculous.
But the more he thought of it, the more sorry he felt that he had met George Purvis.
CHAPTER XXIXOnce more in the Woods.
"Harry," said Kate, the next day after this meeting, "when are you going to get your gun back?"
"Get my gun back!" exclaimed Harry. "How am I to do that?"
"Why, there's money enough," answered Kate. "You only lent your gun-money to Aunt Matilda's fund. Take out enough, and get your gun back."
"That sounds very well," said Harry; "but we haven't so much money, after all. The interest on what we have won't begin to support Aunt Matilda, and we really ought not to break in on the principal."
Kate did not immediately answer. She thought for a while and then she said:
"Well, that's what I call talking nonsense. You must have heard some one say somethinglike that. You never got it out of your own head."
"It may not have come out of my own head," said Harry, who had not told Kate of his meeting with George Purvis, "but it is true, for all that. It seems to me that whatever we do seems all right at first, and then fizzles out. This telegraph business has done that, straight along."
"No, it hasn't," said Kate, with some warmth. "It's turned out first-rate. I think that interest idea is all stuff. As if we wanted to set up Aunt Matilda with an income that would last forever! Here comes father. I'm going to ask him about the gun."
When Mr. Loudon had had the matter laid before him, he expressed his opinion without any hesitation.
"I think, Harry," said he, "that you certainly ought to go and get your gun."
And Harry went and got it.
The rest of that day, which was Saturday, was delightful, both to Harry and Kate. Harry cleaned and polished up his gun, and Kate sat and watched him. It seemed like old times.During those telegraphic days, when they were all thinking of business and making money, they seemed to have grown old.
But all that was over now, and they were a girl and a boy again. Late in the afternoon, Harry went out and shot half-a-dozen partridges, which were cooked for supper, and Mrs. Loudon said that that seemed like the good old style of things. She had feared that they were never going to have any more game on their table.
On the following Wednesday there was a half-holiday, and Harry was about to start off with his gun, when he proposed that Kate should go with him.
"But you're going after birds," said Kate, "and I can't go where you'll want to go—among the stubble and bushes."
"Oh! I sha'n't go much after birds," said Harry. "I wanted to borrow Captain Caseby's dog, but he's going to use him himself to-day, and so I don't expect to get much game. But we can have a good walk in the woods."
"All right," said Kate. "I'll go along." And away she went for her hat.
The walk was charming. It was now September,and the fields were full of bright-colored fall flowers, while here and there a sweet-gum tree began to put on autumn tints. The sun was bright, and there was a strong breeze full of piney odors from the forests to the west.
They saw no game; and when they had rambled about for an hour or so, they sat down under an oak-tree on the edge of the woods, and while they were talking, an idea came into Harry's head. He picked a great big fat toadstool that was growing near the roots of the tree, and carrying it about sixty feet from the tree, he stuck it up on a bush.
"Now then," said he, taking up his gun, cocking it, and handing it to Kate, "you take a shot at that mark."
"Do you mean that I shall shoot at it?" exclaimed Kate.
"Certainly," said Harry. "You ought to know how to shoot. And it won't be the first time you have fired a gun. Take a shot."
"All right," said Kate. And she took off her hat and threw it on the grass. Then she took the gun and raised it to a level with her eye.
"Be easy now," said Harry. "Hold the butt close against your shoulder. Take your time, and aim right at the middle of the mark."
"I'm afraid I'm shutting the wrong eye," said Kate. "I always do."
"Shut your left eye," said Harry. "Get the sight right between your other eye and the mark."
Kate took a good long aim, and then, summoning all her courage, she pulled the trigger.
The gun went off with a tremendous bang! The toadstool trembled for an instant, and then tumbled off the bush.
"Hurra!" shouted Harry. "You've hit it fair!" And he ran and brought it to her, riddled with shot-holes. Kate was delighted with her success, and would have been glad to have spent the rest of the afternoon firing at a mark. But Harry was not well enough supplied with powder and shot for that. However, he gave her another shot at a piece of paper on the bush. She made three shot-holes in it, and Harry said that would do very well. He then loaded up again, and then they started off for home. The path they took led through a corner of the woods.
They had not gone far before they met Gregory Montague.
"Oh, Mah'sr Harry!" said Gregory, "I done foun' a bees' nes'."
"Where?" cried Harry.
"Down in a big tree in de holler, dar," pointing over toward the thickest part of the woods. "You have to go fru de brush and bushes, but it's a powerful big nest, Mah'sr Harry, right in de holler ob de tree."
"Are you sure it's a bees' nest?" said Harry. "How do you know?"
"I knows it's a bees' nest," said Gregory, somewhat reproachfully. "Didn't I see de bees goin' in an' out fru a little hole?"
"Kate," said Harry, "you hold this gun a little while. I'll run down there and see if it is really a bee-tree that he has found. Hold it under your arm, that way, with the muzzle down. That's it. I'll be back directly." And away he ran with Gregory.
And now Kate was left alone in the woods with a gun under her arm. It was a new experience for her. She felt proud and pleased to have control of a gun, and it was not long before shebegan to think that it would be a splendid thing if she could shoot something that would do for supper. How surprised they would all be if she should bring home some game that she had shot, all by herself!
She made up her mind that she would do it, if she could see anything to shoot.
And so she walked quietly along the path with her thumb on the hammer of the gun, all ready to cock it the instant she should see a good chance for a shot.
CHAPTER XXX.A Girl and a Gun.
A short distance beyond the place where Kate had been left, there was a small by-path; and when, still carefully carrying her gun, she reached this path, Kate stopped. Here would be a good place, she thought, to wait for game. Something would surely come into that little path, if she kept herself concealed.
So she knelt down behind a small bush that grew at a corner of the two paths, and putting her gun through the bush, rested the barrel in a crotch.
The gun now pointed up the by-path, and there was an opening in the bush through which Kate could see for some distance.
Here, then, she watched and waited.
The first thing that crossed the path was a very little bird. It hopped down from a twig, it jerked its head about, it pecked at somethingon the ground, and then flew up into a tree. Kate would not have shot it on any account, for she knew it was not good to eat; but she could not help wondering how people ever did shoot birds, if they did not "hold still" any longer than that little creature did.
Then there appeared a small brown lizard. It came very rapidly right down the path toward Kate.
"If it comes all the way," thought Kate, "I shall have to jump."
But it did not come all the way, and Kate remained quiet.
For some time no living creatures, except butterflies and other insects, showed themselves. Then, all of a sudden, there popped into the middle of the path, not very far from Kate, a real, live rabbit!
It was quite a good-sized rabbit, and Kate trembled from head to foot. Here was a chance indeed!
To carry home a fat rabbit would be a triumph. She aimed the gun as straight toward the rabbit as she could, having shut the wrong eye several times before she got the matterarranged to her satisfaction. Then she remembered that she had not cocked the gun, and so she had to do that, which, of course, made it necessary for her to aim all over again.
She cocked only one hammer, and she did it so gently that it did not frighten the rabbit, although he flirted his ears a little when he heard the "click, click!" Everything was so quiet that he probably thought he heard some insect, probably a young or ignorant cricket that did not know how to chirp properly.
So he sat very still and nibbled at some leaves that were growing by the side of the path. He looked very pretty as he sat there, taking his dainty little bites, and jerking up his head every now and then, as if he were expecting somebody.
"I must wait till he's done eating," thought Kate. "It would be cruel to shoot him now."
Then he stopped nibbling all of a sudden, as if he had just thought of something, and as soon as he remembered what it was, he twisted his head around and began to scratch one of his long ears with his hind foot. He looked so funny doing this that Kate came near laughingbut, fortunately, she remembered that that would not do just then.
When he had finished scratching one ear, he seemed to consider the question whether or not he should scratch the other one; but he finally came to the conclusion that he would not. He would rather hop over to the other side of the path and see what was there.
This, of course, made it necessary for Kate to take a new aim at him.
Whatever it was that he found on the other side of the path it grew under the ground, and he stuck his head down as far as he could get it, and bent up his back, as if he were about to try to turn a somersault, or to stand on his head.
"How round and soft he is!" thought Kate. "How I should like to pat him. I wonder when he'll find whatever it is that he's looking for! What a cunning little tail!"
The cunning little tail was soon clapped flat on the ground, and Mr. Bunny raised himself up and sat on it. He lifted his nose and his fore-paws in the air and seemed to be smelling something good. His queer little nose wiggled socomically that Kate again came very near bursting out laughing.
"How I would love to have him for a pet!" she said to herself.
After sniffing a short time, the rabbit seemed to come to the conclusion that he was mistaken, after all, and that he did not really smell anything so very good. He seemed disappointed, however, for he lifted up one of his little fore-paws and rubbed it across his eyes. But, perhaps, he was not so very sorry, but only felt like taking a nap, for he stretched himself out as far as he could, and then drew himself up in a bunch, as if he were going to sleep.
"I wish he wouldn't do that," thought Kate, anxiously. "I don't want to shoot him in his sleep."
But Bunny was not asleep. He was thinking. He was trying to make up his mind about something. There was no way of finding out what it was that he was trying to make up his mind about. He might have been wondering why some plants did not grow with their roots uppermost, so that he could get at them without rubbing his little nose in the dirt; or why treeswere not good to eat right through trunk and all. Or he might have been trying to determine whether it would be better for him to go over to 'Lijah Ford's garden, and try to get a bite at some cabbage-leaves; or to run down to the field just outside of the woods, where he would very likely meet a certain little girl rabbit that he knew very well.
But whatever it was, he had no sooner made up his mind about it than he gave one big hop and was out of sight in a minute.
"There!" cried Kate. "He's gone!"
"I reckon he thought he'd guv you 'bout chance enough, Miss Kate," said a voice behind her, and turning hurriedly, she saw Uncle Braddock.
"Why, how did you come here?" she exclaimed. "I didn't hear you."
"Reckon not, Miss Kate," said the old man. "You don't s'pose I was a-goin' to frighten away yer game. I seed you a-stoopin' down aimin' at somethin', and I jist creeped along a little at a time to see what it was. Why, whatdidcome over you, Miss Kate, to let that ole har go? It was the puttiest shot I ever did see."
"Oh! I couldn't fire at the dear little thing while it was eating so prettily," said Kate, letting down the hammer of the gun as easily as she could; "and then he cut up such funny little capers that I came near laughing right out. I couldn't shoot him while he was so happy, and I'm glad I didn't do it at all."
"All right, Miss Kate," said Uncle Braddock, as he started off on his way through the woods; "that may be a werry pious way to go a-huntin' but it won't bring you in much meat."
When Harry came back from hunting for the bee-tree, which he did not find, he saw Kate walking slowly down the path toward the village, the gun under her arm, with the muzzle carefully pointed toward the ground.