Part 9

"Absalom Butts!" exclaimed Justice incredulously. "The laziest, meanest, most mischievous boy in school! I wouldn't let him be in the pageant, if I had my way, let alone raise the flag."

"Exactly," I said calmly. "You're just like the rest of them. That's the whole trouble with Absalom Butts. He's been used to harsh measures all his life. His father has cuffed him about ever since he can remember. Everybody considers him a bad boy and a terror to snakes and all that and now he acts the part thoroughly. He's so homely that nobody will ever be attracted to him by his looks, and such a poor scholar that he will never make a name for himself at his lessons, and the only way he can make himself prominent is through his pranks. He's too old to be in school with the rest of the children; he should be with boys of his own age. His father makes him stay there because he is too obstinate to admit that he will never get out by the graduation route, and Absalom takes out his spite on the teacher. I can read him like a book. I've tried fighting him to a finish on every point and it hasn't worked. He's still ready to break out at a moment's notice. Now I'm going to change my tactics. I'm going to appoint him, as the oldest pupil, to be my special aid in the pageant, and help work out the details. I'm going to honor him by letting him raise the flag. We'll see how that will change his mind about playing pranks to spoil the pageant."

"It won't work," said Justice gloomily. "Absalom Butts is Absalom Butts, the son of Elijah Butts; and a chip off the old block. The old man has a mean, crafty disposition, and he probably was just like Absalom when he was young. Absalom is going to do something to spoil that pageant, I see it in his eye. You watch."

"It's worth trying, anyhow," I said determinedly.

"It won't work," reiterated Justice. "You can't change human nature."

"It worked once," I said, and I told him about the Dalrymple twins, Antha and Anthony, last summer on Ellen's Isle.

"So you turned little Cry-baby into a lion of bravery and Sir Boastful into a modest violet!" said Justice, in a tone of incredulity.

"Yes, and if you'd ever seen them at the beginning of the summer you wouldn't have held any high hopes of changing human nature, either," I remarked, a little nettled at Justice's tone.

Justice started to reply, but was seized with a violent fit of coughing that left him leaning weakly against the door. I looked at him in some alarm. I knew it was throat trouble that had kept him out of the army, but it hadn't seemed to be anything to worry about--just a dry, hacking cough from time to time. Now, standing out there in the brilliant sunshine, he looked very white and haggard.

"You're all tired out, you've been working too hard," I said, remembering how he had been putting in time after school hours working in Elijah Butts' cotton storehouse, because it was impossible to get enough men to handle the cotton. Then, by drilling my boys and girls by the hour in military marching and running countless errands for me--poor Justice was in danger of being sacrificed on the altar of my ambition.

"I'm a selfish thing!" I said vehemently.

"Nonsense!" said Justice, holding up his head and beginning to fold up the flag. "I got choked with dust, that's all." Manlike, he hated to display any sign of physical weakness before a girl. I decided to say no more about it, but I knew he needed rest.

"Sit down a minute," I said artfully, sinking down on the doorsill, "and keep me 'mused. I'm tired to death. Tell me all the news in the Metropolis of Spencer."

Justice fell into the trap. He sat down beside me and launched into a lively imitation of Elijah Butts convincing the school board that the old school books were better than the new ones some venturous soul had suggested.

"If he only knew how you took him off behind his back, he wouldn't confide in you so trustingly," said I.

"That's what comes of being a bargain," replied Justice loftily. "Great ones linger in my presence, anxious to breathe the same air. The Board coddles me like a rare bit of old china and proudly exhibits me to visitors.

"Oh, by the way," he added, "I hear there's a stranger in town."

I looked up with interest. "Fine or superfine?" I asked.

"Superfine," replied Justice.

"Where from?" I inquired.

"Like Shelley's immortal soul," replied Justice solemnly, "she cometh from afar. She cometh to study Rural School Conditions--sent out by some Commission or other. She's likely to visit your school. Thought I'd tell you ahead of time so you'd manage to be on the premises when the delegation arrived. She might object to hunting through the woods for you." Here we were both overcome with laughter at the remembrance of the last "visitation" of the school board.

"I can't figure out yet why I wasn't fired," said I, flicking a sociable spider off my lap with the stem of a leaf. "I would have been willing to bet my eyebrows on it that night. What made them change their minds, I wonder?"

"Maybe it was because they hated to lose the bargain," answered Justice, half to himself.

"Hated to lose what bargain?" I asked innocently. Then suddenly I understood.

"Justice Sherman!" I exclaimed, starting up. "Did you threaten to leave if they discharged me?"

Justice turned crimson and became reticent. "Well, I don't know as I threatened them exactly," he replied in a soothing drawl. "I don't look very threatening, now, do I?"

"Oh, Justice," was all I could say, for at the thought of what he had done for me I was stricken dumb.

Verily the power of the Bargain was great in the land!

The pageant grew under our hands until it assumed really respectable proportions. The girls and boys were wild about it and drilled tirelessly by the hour.

"I wish we had a better parade ground," sighed Justice regretfully, squinting at the small level plot of ground in front of the schoolhouse that was worn bare of grass. "We haven't room to make a really effective showing with our drill. If only the old schoolhouse wasn't in the way we could use the space that's behind it and on both sides of it."

It was then that I had one of my old-time, wild inspirations. "Move the schoolhouse back," I said calmly.

Justice shouted. "Why not roll up the road and set it down on the other side of field?" he suggested.

"I don't see why we couldn't move the schoolhouse back," I repeated. "Why not, if it's in the way? It's no ornament, anyway."

Half-amused, half-serious, Justice looked first at me and then at the little one-story shack that went by the name of schoolhouse.

"By Jove! we can do it!" he exclaimed suddenly. "It'll be no trick at all. Just get her up on rollers and hitch Sandhelo to the pulley rope and let him wind her up. Just like that. An' zay say ze French have no sense of ze delicasse!"

"What will the Board say?" I inquired, half fearfully.

"We won't ask the Board," replied Justice calmly. "Move first, ask for orders afterwards, that's the way the great generals win battles. Remember how General Sherman cut the wires between him and Washington when he started out on his famous march to the sea, so that no short-sighted one could wire him to change his plans? Well, we're out to make this pageant a success, and we aren't going to risk it by stopping to ask too much permission. We'll move the schoolhouse first and ask permission afterward. By that time it'll be too late; the pageant is to-morrow."

And we did move it. If you had ever seen us! It wasn't such a job as you might think. I suppose the word "schoolhouse" conjures up in your mind the brick and granite pile that is Washington High--imagine moving that out of the way to make room for a military drill! 'Vantage number one for our school. We also have our points of superiority, it seems.

The old shack looked vastly better where we finally let it rest. There was a clump of bushes alongside that hid some of its battered boards beautifully. The parade ground seemed about three times as big as it had been before.

"That's more like it," said Justice approvingly. "Now we can turn around without stubbing our toes against the schoolhouse."

"What will Mr. Butts say?" I asked, beginning to have cold chills.

"Just wait until that gets between the wind and his nobility!" chuckled Justice. "Never mind, I'll take all the blame."

Nevertheless, when the crisis came, and Elijah Butts came driving up on the afternoon of the great occasion, I was there to face the music alone, Justice being nowhere in sight.

Mr. and Mrs. Butts arrived in state, bringing with them a strange lady, who I figured out must be the one Justice had told me about, the one who, like Shelley's immortal soul, had come from afar and was sent by a Commission to study rural school conditions.

I glanced wildly about to see if Justice were not hovering protectingly near, but there was no sign of him. However, I knew my duties as hostess. Nonchalantly I strolled over to the road to welcome the newcomers. Elijah Butts had just finished tying his horse and, bristling with importance, had turned to help the Commission Lady out of the rig.

"Ah-h, Miss Fairlee," he said in smooth tones, "this is--ah--Miss Adams, our teacher at the Corners school."

Then he suddenly jumped half out of his boots and stared over my shoulder as if he had seen a ghost. "Where's that schoolhouse?" he demanded, in a voice which seemed to indicate he thought I had it in my pocket.

"It's right over there," I said calmly, pointing toward the bushes.

Elijah Butts' eyes followed my fingers in a fascinated way; he could hardly believe his senses. "How did it get there?" he demanded.

"We moved it back," I replied casually. "It was in the way of the maneuvers."

Elijah Butts sputtered, choked, and was speechless.

But Miss Fairlee, the Commission lady, laughed until she had to grip the side of the buggy for support. "It's the funniest thing I ever heard," she gasped. "I've heard of the Mountain coming to Mahomet, but I never heard of the Mountain getting out of the road for Mahomet. Oh, Mr. Butts, I think the West is delightful. You people are _so_ original and forceful!"

That took the wind out of Mr. Butts' sails. What could he do after that neat little speech but take the compliment to himself and pass the matter off lightly?

The pageant was a wonderful success in spite of my misgivings. I didn't forget to hand the torch to Columbia at the right moment and I didn't forget to bring the brown stockings for little Lizzie Cooper, who was the Spirit of Nature, and I made fire with the bow and drill without any mishap. But one thing was a dreadful disappointment to me. Absalom Butts was not there, and I had no chance to work out my experiment on him. Where he was I couldn't imagine. I had taken Clarissa home with me the night before to help me finish some things and she hadn't seen him since he went home from school; Mr. Butts also said he didn't know. He added, in a voice loud enough for Miss Fairlee to hear, that he would lick the tar out of him for not being in the patriotic pageant.

No one knew that I had picked Absalom in my mind to raise the flag. There had been much speculation about who was to have this honor and in order to keep everybody happy I said I would not announce this until the moment came. Then I planned to make a speech and award the honor to Absalom, thus singling him out for something besides punishment for once in his life. I had had him helping me for several days, and given him certain definite things to do on the great occasion and was much disappointed that he didn't come to do them. Justice's warning came back and I had an uneasy feeling that he was in hiding somewhere, plotting mischief.

I had a real inspiration, though, in regard to the flag raising. In a flowery speech I called upon Mr. Elijah Butts, the "President of the School Board and the most influential man in Spencer Township," to perform that rite. He swelled up until he almost burst, like the frog in the fable, as he stood there, conscious of Miss Fairlee's eye on him, with his great hairy hand on the pulley rope. Round the corner of the schoolhouse and hidden from view by the bush, I caught Justice Sherman's eye and he applauded silently with his two forefingers, meaning to say that it was a master stroke on my part. Then he dropped his eye decorously and started the singing of the National Anthem.

The pageant ended up in a picnic supper eaten on the erstwhile parade ground, and then the people began to go home through the softly falling dusk. Miss Fairlee came to me and complimented me on the success of the pageant and asked to take some notes for future use; and Elijah Butts was quite cordial as he departed. I've discovered something to-day; if you want to win a person's undying affection, single him out as the most important member of the bunch. He'll fall for it every time. You note that I am talking about male persons, now.

"Well, the show's over," said Justice, when the last of the audience had departed. "Now the actors can take it easy. Come on, let's get Sandhelo and go for a ride."

We climbed into the little cart, still covered with its pageant finery, and drove slowly down the dusty road, discussing the events of the day.

"O Justice," said I, "did you ever see anything so touching as the pride some of those poor women took in their boys and girls? They fairly glowed, some of them. And did you see that one poor woman who tried to fix herself up for the occasion? She had nothing to wear but her faded old blue calico dress, but she had pinned a bunch of roses on the front of it to make herself look festive."

"We've started something, I think," said Justice thoughtfully. "We've taught the people how to get together and have a good time, and they like it. They'll be doing it again."

"I hope so," I replied. Then I added, "I wonder where Absalom was?"

"You see, your scheme didn't work after all," said Justice, in an I-told-you-so tone of voice. "Absalom wasn't impressed with the honor of being your right-hand man. He took the occasion to play hookey. It's a wonder he didn't try to play some trick on the rest of us; but I suppose he didn't dare, with his father there. He's afraid to draw a crooked breath when the old man's around."

"I'm disappointed," I said pensively, leaning my head back and letting the cool wind blow the hair away from my face. It had been a strenuous day and I was tired out. The strain of being afraid every minute that I would do something ridiculous or had left something undone that was of vital importance had nearly turned my hair grey. Now that it was all over without mishap, the people had enjoyed it and my Camp Fire girls had covered themselves with glory, I relaxed into a delicious tranquillity and gave myself over to enjoyment of the quiet drive in the sweet evening air.

"Why so deucedly pensive?" inquired Justice, after we had jogged along for some minutes in silence.

"Just thanking whatever gods there be that I didn't make a holy show of myself somehow," I replied lazily. "Isn't this evening peaceful, though? Who would ever think that down around the other side of this sweet smelling earth men are killing each other like flies, and the night is hideous with the din of warfare?"

Above us the big white stars twinkled serenely, approvingly; all nature seemed in tune with my placid mood. Justice fell under the spell of it, too, and leaned back in silent enjoyment.

What was that sudden glare that shone out against the sky, over to the south? That red, lurid glare that dimmed the glory of the stars and threw buildings and barns into black relief?

"The cotton storehouse!" exclaimed Justice in a horrified voice. "Hurry!"

For once Sandhelo responded to my urging without argument, and we soon arrived on the scene of the blaze. Elijah Butts' plantation is about three miles from Spencer, and no water but the well and the cistern. "This is going to be a nice mess," said Justice, jumping out of the car and charging into the throng of gaping negroes who stood around watching the spectacle. The family of Butts had not returned from the pageant yet, having taken Miss Fairlee for a drive in the opposite direction. A few neighbors had gathered, but they stood there, gaping like the negroes and not lifting a hand to save the cotton.

"Here you, get busy!" shouted Justice, taking command like a general. Under his direction a bucket brigade was formed to check the flames as much as possible and keep the surrounding sheds from taking fire. "Go through the barn and bring out the horses and cows, if there are any there," he called to me.

I obeyed, and brought out one poor trembling bossy, the only livestock I found. Then Justice turned the command of the bucket brigade over to me and started in with one or two helpers to remove the cotton from the end of the storehouse that was not yet ablaze. He worked like a Trojan, his face blackened with smoke until it was hard to tell him from the negroes, the remains of his pageant costume hanging about him in tatters.

"Somebody started this fire on purpose," he panted as he paused beside me a moment to clear his lungs of smoke. "There's been oil poured on the cotton!"

Just at that moment the Butts family returned, driving into the yard at a gallop. Mr. Butts' wrath and excitement knew no bounds and he was hardly able to help effectively; he ran around for all the world like a chicken with its head off. Assistance came swiftly as people began to arrive from far and near, attracted by the blaze, but if it hadn't been for Justice's timely taking hold of the situation not a bit of the cotton would have been saved, and the house, barn and sheds would have gone up, too.

Conjectures began to fly thick and fast on all sides as to how the fire had started, and a whisper began going the rounds that soon became an open accusation. One of the negroes that works for Mr. Butts swore he saw Absalom going into the storehouse that afternoon. My heart skipped a beat. He had not been at the celebration. Was this where he had been and what he had done the while? Elijah Butts was stamping up and down in such a fury as I had never seen.

"He couldn't get out!" he shouted hoarsely to the group that stood around him. "He's locked in the woodshed, I locked him in there myself, and there isn't even a window he could get out of!"

I started at his words. So that was where Absalom had been that afternoon. He hadn't deliberately disappointed me, then. But--Elijah Butts hadn't said that afternoon that he had locked Absalom up at home. He had pretended to be much mystified over the non-appearance of his son. Why had he done so? The answer came in a flash of intuition. Elijah Butts had probably had a set-to with Absalom over some private affair and had locked him up as punishment, but he didn't want Miss Fairlee to know that he had kept him out of the patriotic pageant and so he had denied any knowledge of Absalom's whereabouts. "The old hypocrite!" I said to myself scornfully.

"Your woodshed's wide open," said someone from the crowd. "We were in there looking for a bucket. The door was open and there wasn't nobody in it."

"He got out!" shouted Elijah Butts in still greater fury. "He got out and set fire to the cotton to spite me! Wait until I catch him! Wait till I get my hands on him!" He stamped up and down, shouting threats against his son, awful to listen to.

"I thought he'd drive that boy to turn against him yet," said Justice, drawing me away to a quiet spot, and mopping his black forehead with a damp handkerchief. "I can't say but that it served him right. After all, Absalom is a chip off the old block. That's his idea of getting even. He didn't stop to think that it was the government's loss as well as his father's. Well, it's all over but the shouting; we might as well go home."

We drove home in silence. Justice was tuckered out, I could see that, and I began to worry for fear his strenuous efforts would lay him up. I was still too much excited to feel tired. That would come later. All my energy was concentrated into disappointment over Absalom Butts. I couldn't believe that he was really as bad as this. I didn't want to believe he had done it, and yet it seemed all too true. Why had he run away if he hadn't? I shook my head. It was beyond me.

Silently we drove into the yard and unhitched Sandhelo.

"Good night," said Justice, starting off in the direction of his cabin.

"Good night," I replied absently. I did not go right into the house. I was wide awake and knew I could not go to sleep for some time. Instead I sat in the doorway and blinked at the moon, like a touseled-haired owl. It was after midnight and everything was still, even the wind. Out of the corner of my eye I watched Justice wearily plodding along to his sleeping quarters, saw him open the screen door and vanish from sight within. Then, borne clearly on the night air, I heard an exclamation come from his lips, then a frightened cry. I sped down the path like the wind to the little cabin. A lamp flared out in the darkness just as I reached it and by its light I saw Justice bending over something in a corner.

"What's the matter?" I called through the screen door.

Justice turned around with a start. "Oh, it's you, is it?" he said. "Come in here."

I went in. There, crouched in a corner on the floor, was Absalom Butts, his eyes blinking in the sudden light, his face like a scared rabbit's. It was he who had cried out, not Justice.

"What's the trouble, Absalom," said I, trying to speak in a natural tone of voice, "can't you find your way home?"

"Dassent go home," replied Absalom.

"Why not?"

"Pa'll kill me."

"What for?"

"Because I ran away."

"So you've run away, have you?" said I. "Why?"

"Because pa licked me and locked me in the woodshed and wouldn't let me come to the doin's this afternoon, and I just wouldn't stand it, so I got out and cut."

"When did you get out?" I asked, leaning forward a trifle.

"This afternoon," replied Absalom. "I thought first I'd come to the doin's anyhow and help you with those things I'd promised, but I was scared to come with pa there, so I went the other way. I walked and walked and walked, till I was tired out and most starved, because I hadn't brought anything along to eat, and I didn't know where I was headed for, anyway, and then I came along here and saw this shack and came in and sat down to rest. I must a fell asleep."

"You didn't do it, then?" said I, eagerly.

"Do what?" Absalom's tone was plainly bewildered.

"Set fire to your father's cotton storehouse."

"Whee-e-e-e-e!" Absalom's whistle of astonishment was clearly genuine. "I should say not!"

"Do you know who did?" asked Justice, watching him keenly.

"_Did_ somebody?" asked Absalom innocently.

"I should say they did," said Justice, puzzled in his turn. "Are you sure you don't know anything about it?"

Absalom shook his head vigorously. "I don't know anything about it," he said straightforwardly.

"I was sure you didn't do it," I said triumphantly. "I had a feeling in my bones."

"How does it happen that you weren't at the fire?" asked Justice wonderingly. "You must have seen the glare in the sky. People came for miles around. Didn't you see it?"

Absalom shook his head. "I must a slept through it," he said simply, and followed it with such a large sigh of regret for what he had missed that Justice and I both had to smile.

"Well, there's one thing about it," said Justice, "and that is, if you _didn't_ set fire to it, you'd better streak it for home about as fast as you can and clear yourself up. Everybody thinks you did it and your running away made it look suspicious. Besides, one of your father's men says he saw you coming out of the storehouse this afternoon. By the way, what _were_ you doing in there?"