THE HEART-TOUCH
There was great excitement around the Andrews' home the next day. Belle was delighted at what her father had done, and she was looking eagerly forward to his arrival for tea. But Mrs. Andrews was not so well pleased. She worried over the idea of entertaining the Attorney General, and wondered what she should have for supper.
"You needn't go to any extra trouble about daddy," Belle laughingly told her. "He might know what he's eating and he might not. He's so absent-minded at times that I really believe he forgets that he has eaten at all."
"But he's used to big hotels and things served up in great style," Mrs. Andrews replied. "What will he think of our humble house and our country ways?"
"He will like everything, I am sure, especially your cooking, Mrs. Andrews. I have heard him say over and over again how tired he was of hotels. He misses his own home so much. And, besides, daddy was brought up on a farm, and he will feel perfectly at home. So you must not worry about him one bit."
This was of some comfort to Mrs. Andrews; nevertheless, she set Belle to work polishing the silver, and Jess to dusting the parlor and dining-room, while she herself spent the morning in the kitchen, making pies, doughnuts, and biscuits.
It was a most beautiful morning, and the hum of bees in the vines, and the twitter and songs of birds were all in harmony with the joy which reigned in the house. A great load had been lifted from all hearts over the outcome of the trial.
"I knew that daddy would not fail to be there," Belle announced, when Abner had told the whole story. "But it was a close call, for if we had not gone to church on Sunday I would have known little or nothing of what was taking place."
"An' so you was back of it all, eh?" Abner queried. "I was wonderin' how in thunder ye'r dad knew so much about it."
"Oh, yes," Belle smiled, "I wrote to daddy at once. I knew that he would come if I asked him. You see, he is very much interested in us all, especially the children we have taken under our care."
"Well, he arrived jist in the nick of time," Abner replied. "I felt like Tom Duncan said he did when he was nearly drowned out there off the Pint a few years ago. He had given up all hope, an' was goin' down fer the third time when he was rescued an' brought to. So that's the way I felt when ye'r dad reached out an' saved me. My, he's some man, all right, an' I guess his daughter's somethin' like him."
This was the nearest Abner ever came to paying a compliment, and he was pleased at the happy flush which mounted to Belle's cheeks. He left the house and strolled over to his neighbor's. He could well afford to take the day off and enjoy himself to his heart's content.
Zeb was in the workshop busy at the bench. He, too, was very happy at the outcome of the trial, and was most anxious to see his neighbor.
"My, it's good to be out of that hot kitchen!" Abner exclaimed, as he sat down upon a box, and pulled out his pipe. "Why, it's like an oven over there."
"Too hot fer you in more ways than one, eh?" Zeb quizzed.
"No, not a bit of it. Everybody's happy as clams at high-water. All in great spirits. But, ye see, it's the cookin' that's goin' on fer supper which makes it ninety in the shade. We'll have straw an' skimmed water fer dinner, an' Tildy'll give me a talk on eteket, that is how I'm to behave this evenin', fer dessert. But jist wait till supper time, an' then ye'll see the things piled on that table, an' how the silver'll shine. There's nuthin' like a visit from the Attorney General to make women hustle. But, then, I don't mind. He did a great thing fer me yesterday, an' I shan't soon fergit it."
"I guess ye shouldn't, Abner. If it hadn't been for him you'd be in a mighty tight hole by this time, let me tell ye that."
"But de ye think it's ended, Zeb?"
"Sure. I'd stake me bottom dollar on that. Them fellers'll be mighty glad to come to any terms now, since they know what they're up aginst. When they thought that they had only you to buck they were cocky and dead sartin of their game. But it's different now. They'll squirm, an' git out of it the best they kin, unless I'm much mistaken."
When Abner was not with Zeb in the workshop that day, Zeb was with Abner out under the big tree at the back of the barn. They could not work, and they were like two boys, who had so many things to talk about, and could not afford to be parted for any length of time. They were in such excellent spirits that they even had one of their old-time discussions over the Ten Lost Tribes and Ancient Ancestors. Abner's tongue was no longer tied, and if he had talked in court as he did there under the tree Rackshaw would have been confounded in a short time. Had a stranger happened along, he would have imagined that these two neighbors were angry and ready to fight. But they understood each other, and were perfectly happy.
Abner had little to say at supper that evening. He was content to listen to the others, especially the Attorney General, who was in great spirits. It was a pleasant little gathering, and the table looked its best, with fresh bright flowers in the centre. Mrs. Andrews was at first a little flustered and excited. But this soon passed when she found how agreeable the guest made himself. He praised her cooking, and appeared perfectly at home.
They did not hurry through supper, for the visitor had much to say of considerable importance. He told them that Preston and Rackshaw had agreed to take no further action, and to let the case drop.
"And they were very glad to do so," he added, with a quiet smile. "In a way I was sorry, for those men really deserve a severe lesson. However, perhaps it is all for the best, and they have been taught a useful lesson."
"Ye didn't come to me assistance any too soon," Abner replied. "I was jist goin' down fer the last time when ye pulled me out. My, it was good to git a breath of fresh air!"
They all laughed heartily, and Rivers turned to his daughter.
"If it hadn't been for Belle I would not have been there," he explained. "I had a thousand and one things to do when I received her long letter. But she has had me under her thumb for so long that I dropped everything and meekly obeyed her summons. It takes a woman to do things, doesn't it, Mr. Andrews?"
"Should say so," was the emphatic agreement. "I found that out the very first thing after Tildy an' me was married."
"I guess if the women didn't do things round this house there wouldn't be much done," Mrs. Andrews retorted.
"Judging from this supper, they certainly know their work," Rivers complimented. "I never tasted such doughnuts in my life. I hope Belle has taken many lessons from you, Mrs. Andrews."
"I'm afraid not, daddy," was the laughing confession. "I've been too giddy to settle down to housework."
"Runnin' away from sich fellers as Billy Lansing, eh?" Abner bantered. "Poor chap, I wonder if he's livin' yit, fer we haven't seen hair nor hide of him since that island affair."
"Belle hasn't been idle, let me tell you that," Jess defended. "I never knew her to write so many letters as she has lately."
"And not all to me, eh?" and Rivers looked quizzically at his daughter. "Oh, you needn't blush so furiously," he added. "Mr. Parker is a married man and an old friend of ours, so it's all right."
"What! Was ye writin' letters to that minister at St. Felix?" Abner asked in surprise. "Ye didn't tell us ye knew him."
"Yes, ever since I was a child," Belle explained. "He was a regular visitor at our house then, and why shouldn't I write to him?"
"Sure, sure," Abner agreed. "It was all right, Belle, so long as ye'r letters was somewhat along the lines ye wrote to ye'r dad."
"What makes you think they were, Mr. Andrews?"
"The spirits of me ancestors tell me that you had a hand in that sermon Mr. Parker gave us last Sunday night. Ain't I right?"
"You are," Rivers replied, as Belle hesitated. "And I am very glad that Belle gave the information which brought forth that sermon. It roused the best thinking people in Glucom to action, and that was partly the reason why I remained in town last night."
"What did they do?" Abner eagerly asked.
"They got down to business, and decided to purchase a large, commodious house as a temporary orphanage. The necessary money was raised in a short time, and I am confident that the Government will make a liberal grant toward the running expenses."
"Ye don't tell!" Abner was now leaning over the table, unheeding his wife's chiding looks. "An' they won't need Hen Whittles' dump?"
"No, not at all," Rivers laughed. "He can keep his dump as long as he likes for himself, Rackshaw and the others who were scrambling after a rake-off in the matter. The ones who are connected with the orphanage scheme now are men and women upon whom we can depend, and who mean business."
"An' will they want our kids?" Abner asked.
"Not for a few weeks yet. You may have them a while longer until matters are arranged. All I was talking to last night and to-day were very high in their praise of what you have done for those children you now have under your care."
"Oh, that wasn't more'n we should've done. But we kin do a deal more'n that, can't we, Tildy?"
The latter, however, made no reply. She was listening to the voices of the children which came through the open window. She was so thankful that a place was to be established for them and for others, and yet she was thinking how she would miss the little ones with their noise and chatter. She hardly heard the conversation, and was only aroused a few minutes later by Thane Royden arriving with his car. He had come for Jess, and though the latter wished to stay and help with the dishes, her mother and Belle would not hear of it.
"You might not have a chance for another drive in a long time," Belle informed her. "Mr. Royden is going away soon, so he says."
"Git as much Social Service work in as ye kin, Jess," her father suggested. "Ye may not have sich another nice feller to practice on fer a long time."
When they had gone Abner and the Attorney General went out of doors.
"Suppose we walk over to that gravel hill of yours," Rivers suggested, as he offered Abner a cigar out of his well-filled case. "I have heard much about it, and about the efforts which have been made to buy it from you. I congratulate you upon not selling."
"I caught them three government fellers, all right," Abner chuckled. "Ye should've seen their faces, when I held 'em up out there on the river."
"I heard all about it," and Rivers smiled. "And they offered you a certain sum, did they?"
"Oh, yes," and Abner thrust his hand into his pocket. "I have it all down in black an' white, an' their names signed to it, too. Look at that."
Rivers took the paper, read the scrawl, and then when he came to the names his eyes grew wide with astonishment. He glanced curiously at Abner.
"Did you read these names?" he asked.
"Read 'em? No. Anythin' wrong with 'em?"
"They are not the names of the men I was led to believe signed this paper."
"They're not! Whose are they, then?"
"We have no 'T. Smith,' 'J. Brown,' nor 'C. Green' in the Government. Those are the names down here."
"Ye haven't!" Abner stopped short, and his body became tense.
"No; I know nothing about them."
"An' ye think they fooled me?"
"It looks very much like it."
"The divils!" and Abner's hands clenched together. "Jist wait till I git hold of them fellers. I'll fix 'em. An' so that's worth nuthin'?" he asked, pointing to the paper.
"Nothing. And I question whether it would have been of any value had those men signed their own. names. They are bluffers, and have no authority to bind the Government. Oh, they are schemers, all right. I know them of old, and have had my own trouble with them."
"So the Government kin take my gravel an' give me any old price fer it, eh?"
"I suppose so. But the Government is not going to take it."
"Not goin' to take it?"
"No. We have finally decided that the haul is too long, and we have been able to secure plenty along the line which will do for many years to come."
Abner's face expressed his keen disappointment. He sighed, and looked over at the hill. His fond hopes were dashed to the ground in an instant. So his property was once more worthless. Rivers watched him closely and a twinkle shone in his eyes.
"You feel disappointed, I suppose?"
"I sartinly do. I was hopin' to make somethin' out of that gravel that 'ud put me on me feet. I'm gittin' along in years now, an' ain't jist as brisk as I uster be."
"And you're willing to sell, I suppose?"
"Sell! Sure, I'll sell when the first decent chance comes along. I wouldn't have asked so much from them grafters who came here if I hadn't known they wanted to get the place from me fer almost nuthin', an' then hand it over to the Government fer a big sum. That's why I held out."
"I am glad you did, Mr. Andrews, especially as I have now a new proposition to make. A very reliable company, The Morton & Griffin, have for some time been seeking a place to erect a big concrete plant. I have been working for them, and they have requested me to find suitable material for their purposes. Many beds of gravel have been tested, but not one has the same excellent qualities as yours. It is here in abundance, and they are greatly pleased with the samples which have been submitted to them. This was largely due to Royden, the young surveyor, whom you threatened to kill one day, so I believe. He has taken a great interest in the matter, and knowing him to be most trustworthy, I was able to vouch for his report. The company have engaged him, and he is to receive a good salary for his services. This will be news to you, I feel sure. I have not been free to make this known before until the Government had finally decided not to use the gravel for ballast."
Abner's face was a study as the Attorney General paused. The expression was one of surprise, hope and incredulity. He could hardly believe that he had heard aright, and he looked out over the field in an abstracted manner. So the gravel hill was to be of value, after all, he mused. The Government would not take it from him, and a big company wanted it. But how much would he get for the land? Rivers noted his silence, and divined the meaning.
"You are wondering how much the company are willing to pay, are you not?" he smilingly asked.
"Me mind was travellin' along that line," Abner replied. "I s'pose they'll want me to let 'em have it fer almost nuthin'?"
"Oh, no. It is a very powerful company, and quite willing to pay liberally. In fact, the matter is left almost entirely to me. I feel certain that the company will accept whatever recommendation I make. The question of a few thousand dollars will make no difference so long as the material is suitable and abundant for the company's purpose. Just how much you will be offered I cannot state now, but I can assure you that it will be more than you ever dreamed of getting from the Government. It will make you independent for life. You have been a good friend to my daughter, and for her sake I have taken a keen interest in your welfare."
Abner was too much overcome for words. He was visibly affected, and wished to say something to express his thanks. But words would not come. He felt as puzzled as he did when in court. Rivers noticed his emotion, and understood.
Abner had so many things to think about that he was willing to listen as the Attorney General outlined the possibilities of the work which would shortly begin, and the advantage to the community. It all seemed like a marvelous dream, too good to be true.
It was a happy company which gathered upon the verandah that evening. The sun had gone down, and not a breath of wind stirred the air. The river stretched out before them like a huge mirror, only ruffled when an occasional motor-boat chugged by. It was a scene of peace and perfect contentment. Zeb was there, too, and Abner was satisfied to let him and Rivers talk about the coming election. It had little interest for him now. His great good fortune occupied his mind, and he was already making plans for the future.
And there Jess found them an hour later. Her face was flushed, and her eyes were beaming, telling plainly of something important. They all noted her excitement and surmised its meaning. Jess was not a girl who could keep such good news from those so near and dear to her. Yet she hesitated, and glanced at the Attorney General.
"Don't mind me, my dear," he encouraged. "I was young once myself, and I am most thankful that I am here to-night to be the first to offer my heartiest congratulations."
Rising to his feet, he grasped her hand, and then, stooping, kissed her.
"You will forgive me, I feel sure," he apologized. "But you seem like my own daughter, and the privilege is mine."
Then followed an attack such as Jess had never before experienced. The women hugged and kissed her; they laughed and cried in succession, and bombarded her with all kinds of questions. "Where was Royden?" and, "Why didn't he come to share in the congratulations?" "Was he afraid?" and so on. To all these Jess laughed and blushed more than ever.
"He will come when he is sure he will not be killed," she explained, looking at her father with a smile. "If he was in danger of losing his life when about to steal your place, he cannot tell what might happen to him when you learn that he is going to steal your daughter."
They all laughed merrily, and Abner chuckled.
"Ye'r Social Service dope worked all right, Jess," he drawled. "Ye didn't need to go away from Ash Pint to practice, did ye? Ye've had that young feller to elevate, an' ye've elevated him well, as fer as I kin see. But, then, his under-pinnin' was good, an' that made all the difference, hey, Zeb? Not much like ye'r 'Society' pig, ho, ho, skiddy-me-shins if it is."
The End