CHAPTER XIX.
JACK'S PROPOSITION.
Jack called at Mr. Chick's house, saw that gentleman and got his promiseto bury old crumple-horn at once, after which he continued on past BillDean's home, fearing no trouble from him since he was yet at the campgrounds.
On arriving at the store he found Mr. Treat alone, and was greeted withthe question,--
"Hello! Here's Aunt Nancy's young man! How's the old lady after her tripto the grove?"
"She is well, but tired."
"I'll warrant that. When folks want to go off for a good time theyinvite Nancy Curtis, reckonin' she'll do whatever work there is withoutgrumblin', an' they ain't far out of the way, either. Did the deacon gethis full share of that Mocha she bought?"
"I don't know, sir; but I guess so, I didn't hear him findin' fault."
"Then you can count on his havin' been filled up; _he_ don't buy verymuch of that kind of coffee when it's him as has to foot the bills."
Jack had no interest in this subject, and changed it abruptly bysaying,--
"Aunt Nancy's cow died this mornin'."
"Sho! How'd that happen?"
"Mr. Chick thought it must be old age."
"Well I reckon it was. That cow has been in the family quite a spell."
"It'll be hard on Aunt Nancy not to have the milk."
"I 'low you're 'bout right, sonny; it helped make up a good bit of theold woman's livin', an' she hasn't so much money but that a dollar makesa big difference."
"That's true, an' I've come to see if I can't help her out in some way."
"You?" and Mr. Treat looked up in surprise. "Why, I thought you hadn'tany great amount of cash on hand."
"And I haven't; but I thought perhaps I might make a trade with you."
"Want to have a dicker of some kind, eh? Well, what have you got to showup?" and Mr. Treat selected from a pile of pine wood a convenient stickto whittle, as he assumed a more comfortable attitude preparatory toindulging in his favorite pastime of "dickering."
"I haven't got anything, sir; but thought there might be work I coulddo around here till I'd earned enough to buy Aunt Nancy another cow."
Jack stammered and hesitated until it was a positive pleasure both tohimself and the storekeeper when the speech was finally ended.
"What can you do?" Mr. Treat asked thoughtfully as he fashioned withinfinite care the bit of wood into a toothpick.
"Almost anything, sir. I'd be willin' to work very hard if I could getthe job."
"Have you got any idea what the jobs 'round here might be?"
"It don't make any difference; I'm not afraid of bucklin' down to them."
"How much do you count on earnin'?"
"I want to get enough to buy a cow for Aunt Nancy."
"Do you know what one is worth?"
"No, sir."
Mr. Treat was silent for a moment as if revolving some very weightymatter in his mind, and said slowly,--
"I've got jest sich a cow as would suit Aunt Nancy; she's a good one,an' I wouldn't like to part with her for nothin'. Now, if you'd do thechores 'round here this summer, an' she would put in some of the moneyI owe for the wheat, we might strike a trade."
"But I don't want her to pay anything."
"Thought you could do it all yourself, eh?"
"I hoped so," Jack replied in a tone of disappointment.
"Why, I don't reckon you'd earn it in a year. I'd want forty dollars atthe very lowest figger for my cow, an' it would take a mighty smart boyto git that much in twelve months."
Jack could no longer conceal his feelings, and, seeing he was painedbecause of the failure of his plans, Mr. Treat continued in what heintended should be a soothing tone,--
"I'd be willin' to allow you twenty dollars for a summer's workprevidin' you'd board yourself at Aunt Nancy's. Then she'd only becalled on to pay as much more, an' have twice as good a cow as the onethat's dead."
"How long do you say the summer should last?"
"Well, I wouldn't be hard on you, an' we'd call it quits by the middleof November."
"How much of that time would it be necessary for me to stay in thestore?"
"From five o'clock in the mornin' till nine at night, the same as isexpected of other boys."
It was the last blow to Jack's hopes. His duty to Louis would preventhim from remaining in this section of the country such a length of time,and it was essential he should assist Aunt Nancy in order to pay her forthe food he and Louis consumed.
"Well, what do you think of it?" Mr. Treat asked, as the boy stoodirresolutely for a moment.
"I couldn't because I can't stay here as long as that, and, besides, Imust do something for Aunt Nancy to earn our board."
"That's right, my boy. There's no harm done because we didn't make atrade; but it shows I'm willin' to help along all I can in a case likethis."
"I'm much obliged to you," Jack replied faintly, and then he started upthe road once more, walking decidedly faster than when he came.
He had counted on being able to ease the sorrow in Aunt Nancy's mind bybuying for her a cow as good as the one she had lost.
He was revolving in his mind half a dozen plans by which the desiredresult might be attained, when a voice from the opposite side of theroad caused him to halt.
"How's Aunt Nancy by this time?"
It was Mr. Souders who spoke, and because that gentleman had been sokind to him on the day when the sewing circle met at the little woman'shouse, he decided to tell him the whole story, not from any expectationof receiving assistance, but in order to relieve his mind.
Mr. Souders listened attentively to all he had to say, and thenreplied,--
"Treat was trying to swindle you. His cow isn't worth ten dollars, tosay nothing of forty, an' he wasn't over an' above anxious to give youtoo much for your work. Let the matter drop a couple of days an' I'llsee what can be done. We mustn't allow Aunt Nancy to suffer."
There was a world of encouragement in the gentleman's tones, and Jackfelt as if half his troubles had already been removed.
"I'm willin' to do anything I can towards earnin' the money to buy one;but Louis an' I mustn't stay here till November, an' I don't want her touse her own money."
"That will be all right, my lad. Go home now, an' I'll see you later."
Jack's heart was quite light when he walked swiftly down the laneleading to the tiny house, but became heavy again when he saw the littlewoman's face.
It was evident Aunt Nancy was mourning deeply the loss of her pet, andthe cripple felt that as yet he had nothing tangible to assuage hergrief.
She looked up inquiringly as he approached, but he offered noexplanation regarding his journey until the question had been askeddirectly, and then said hesitatingly,--
"I would rather not tell you, Aunt Nancy. I thought I might be able todo something, but it was a failure, an' the less we say about it thebetter."
"Jack dear," and the little woman was very grave, "when a boy can't tellhis friends what he has been doing it looks as if there was something ofwhich to be ashamed."
"But in this case there isn't, Aunt Nancy; cross my throat if there is."
"I believe you, my child, but would have much preferred if there hadbeen perfect confidence between us."
Jack looked up in positive alarm.
The little woman's tone was so different from what he had ever heardbefore when she was addressing him, that he actually felt frightened.
"I'll tell you all about it," he said quickly; but Aunt Nancy held upher hand to prevent his saying anything more.
"If it is something which you wish to keep a secret from me I don't wantto hear it."
Now Jack was distressed, for there could be no question but that he haddispleased his best friend.
"Please listen to me, Aunt Nancy. I did say I wasn't going to tell you,because I thought perhaps you'd think I was meddlin'. That is, you mighthave thought so after I failed; but if the thing had gone through allright you'd been glad."
; Then, disregarding entirely her gestures for him to remain silent, hetold all the story save that relating to his interview with Mr. Souders.
It was yet possible old crumple-horn's place would be filled, but hebelieved it best not to raise any false hopes.
When he concluded Aunt Nancy took his face in her hands, bending hishead over until she could kiss his cheeks, when she said in a tremulousvoice,--
"Jack, you are a dear, good boy, and have been a blessing to me from thehour you first came into this house; but you must not think of takingany such load upon your shoulders. I would not have permitted it evenhad you been able to make a satisfactory bargain with Mr. Treat, andthat is what no person has ever done before to my knowledge. It was notright to keep from me anything you wished to do, and it is proven inthis case, for if I had known what you thought of attempting, I couldhave explained how useless it would be."
"It didn't seem so to me, Aunt Nancy, and I surely believed I could earnmore than twenty dollars by working all summer."
"Not for such a man as the storekeeper. Now you will be obliged to walkover to Daniel Chick's twice each day for milk, and that will be morelabor than taking care of poor old crumple-horn."
"Perhaps you may get another cow, Aunt Nancy."
"It is impossible, at least during this year. I spent more money at campmeeting than I could afford, and must now pay the penalty when thesummer boarders come by being forced to buy both milk and butter. Itwill make a big hole in my earnings."
Now that there was no cow to care for, the work in Jack's particulardepartment was very light, and, as he said to Aunt Nancy, it seemed asif he had hardly begun before the whole was done.
The walk to Daniel Chick's was not as pleasant as taking care of oldcrumple-horn, and besides, he would be forced to pass Bill Dean's housetwice each day, a fact which caused him no little disquietude; but hesaid nothing regarding this to Aunt Nancy.
The following forty-eight hours passed very quietly on the farm.
The little woman was so thoroughly tired from her labors at camp meetingthat she did not have the ambition to bustle around as usual, and thegreater portion of her time was spent with Jack in the garden.
It is probable that no collection of vegetables ever received more carethan was bestowed by these enthusiastic gardeners.
The smallest weed was detected and instantly pulled up by Aunt Nancy,while Jack loosened the ground around the roots of each tiny plant untilit seemed certain they would be dwarfed.
Much to Jack's discomfort, hardly an hour passed when the little womandid not make some reference to Mr. Pratt, and constantly bewailed thefact that she failed to see him.
"But it wasn't your fault I couldn't find him, Aunt Nancy," Jack finallysaid.
"I suppose not; but yet it seems as if my cowardice had something to dowith it."
"You know that couldn't be so, Aunt Nancy; but if you want me to I'llwalk over to his house. It ain't so terribly far."
This proposition had the effect of reducing the little woman to silence,and during three or four hours Louis' guardian heard nothing regardingthe man whom he had every reason to consider an enemy.
Late on the afternoon of the third day after he had talked with Mr.Souders, that gentleman's wife drove up, and instead of alighting tocall upon Aunt Nancy, said quite sharply,--
"Samuel wanted me to drive over here for Jack."
"Why, what is the matter?" The little woman asked in alarm.
"Nothing very serious, Nancy Curtis, so don't begin to fret. Sam alwayswas full of whims, an' I reckon this is one of 'em."
Jack fancied he knew what was wanted, and his heart was very light whenhe clambered into the wagon.
"I'll come right back," he cried, as the carriage rolled away, and AuntNancy sat looking at Louis as if speechless with astonishment.
"Is it about the cow?" Jack asked of Mrs. Souders, who sat stiff as astatue and quite as forbidding looking, holding the reins tightly inboth hands, and paying no attention to the cripple.
She nodded her head, and Jack could not but wonder if she thought herbreath too valuable to be wasted in words.
This was the extent of the conversation during the ride of ten minutesor more, and the hunchback felt decidedly relieved when it came to anend.
Mrs. Souders, silent and stern, was quite as disagreeable a companion asMrs. Souders angry.
The cause of his having thus been summoned was, as he had hoped, a cow.
In the yard, with a halter on her head and a card tied to her horn,stood a meek-eyed animal which Jack thought a model of her kind.
Mr. Souders came from the shed as the hunchback alighted, and cried inhis hearty, cheery voice,--
"What do you think of that, lad? Talk about Treat's cow; why, she can'thold a candle side of this one, and there was a big difference in theprice."
"Is it for Aunt Nancy?"
"Sartin, an' I sent for you to lead her over to the little woman."
"But who's to pay for her?"
"That part of the transaction has been settled already, an' all you haveto do now, is to take the creater away."
"But I wanted to do somethin' toward buyin' her."
"So you have, my boy. Can you read writin'?"
"Not very well."
"Then come here while I tell you what's on the card. I got one of DanielChick's daughters to fix it up so's it would be kerrect."
Then Mr. Souders, after wiping his glasses lest a single word shouldescape his attention, read the following:--
"TO AUNT NANCY CURTIS FROM JACK DUDLEY, TO WHOM THIS COW WAS PRESENTED BY SARAH SOUDERS, IN TOKEN OF HER REGRET FOR THE UNKIND TREATMENT WHICH HE RECEIVED AT HER HANDS."
"You see," Mr. Souders explained confidentially as he finished readingthe inscription, "mother has been sorry about what happened over toAunt Nancy's, jest as I said she would be, an' this is kind of apeace-offerin' to you, at the same time a good turn is done the oldwoman."
"Then no one else paid for the cow? Your wife did the whole thing?"
"I may have chipped in a bit; but that don't count. Its mother's presentto you an' Aunt Nancy, an' I'm right glad of the chance to help thelittle woman along. She'd be in mighty hard lines this summer if she hadto buy butter an' milk."
Jack hardly knew what to do or say.
He was delighted almost beyond bounds at being able to take the cow toAunt Nancy, and at the same time it seemed necessary he should thankMrs. Souders, but was at a loss to know how it was to be done.
"Where is your wife?" he asked after a pause.
"In the house, an' I reckon she's locked the door. Better not try to sayanything to her. Mother's peculiar, an' flies off dreadfully sometimes,but her heart's in the right place, my boy, which makes up for a goodmany faults. Lead the creater home now, an' I'll venter to say you'llenjoy seein' Aunt Nancy dance when she knows its hers."
Jack would have attempted to thank Mr. Souders, but the gentlemanprevented him by unfastening the cow's halter, and insisting that theanimal be led away at once.