Part 9

“We’ll see what can be done,” I assured her. “This syndicate--this combination--a very large concern,” I floundered on, trying to think up some sort of a plausible lie to account for my interest in a wood-lot, “it’s--er--ah!--you see, I can’t give out much information locally because we do so many kinds of business--it’s all linked up--it’s necessary to move carefully, but I think I’ll tell you this much, confidentially, just between ourselves!” Again my hankering to have some sort of a secret between Celene Kingsley and myself! “One branch of our business is building all the tall brick chimneys in the eastern part of the country. We use millions of bricks and so we need a great deal of wood for burning the bricks. So that’s why, maybe, I can pay your father’s price for the wood-lot. Now you understand!” I ended up with a lot of relief, for I had to dive pretty deep for that lie.

“I do see, and I’m glad there’s a prospect you’ll stay in town. And then, too, there’s your ankle to nurse!”

I was glad she mentioned the ankle, for I had forgotten all about it, and would certainly have betrayed myself when I jumped out of the carriage at the tavern. Really, to be a good liar a fellow should take one of those courses in memory-training! As it was, I descended carefully and promised her to apply cloths and liniment that night. She tendered her little hand, and I pressed it, and she left with me the memory of a smile which was like a rose gemmed with dew---for there were tears in her eyes.

I waited in the tavern yard till she was well on her way, and then I marched in without any limp, for I was not minded to keep up that special lie for the benefit of all Levant.

Dodovah Vose walked behind his catty-cornered counter, plucked a rusty pen from its potato scabbard, whirled the register around under my nose, and tendered the pen.

“Rather nippy evenings, though pleasant enough daytimes for this time of year, Squire,” he said, by way of welcome to the arriving guest.

That tickled me. He didn’t recognize me. He was looking at my rig rather than at my face. When I had splashed my name on the page he pulled his spectacles to the end of his nose and inspected the signature. Then he snapped upright and stared at me.

“Godfrey domino Peter!” he bawled. “Then them Sortwell boys ain’t such condemned liars as I suspected they were! When Jod wrote me that you had quit diving I reckoned you had gone plunk square to tophet!”

“Oh, there’s always a chance for a fellow in the city, if he keeps hustling,” I told him. I chinked the little handful of small change in my pocket. “I’m going to stay here with you for a spell, Mr. Vose. Have you a rule that guests without baggage must pay in advance?” I grinned and he took it as a great joke.

“If you can tell me enough about Jod I may adopt you and give you free board the rest of your life,” he chuckled.

Then I handed over his present with a word of explanation, and he unwrapped the grisly object and surveyed it with as much satisfaction as if it had been a golden nugget.

“Jod always knows what will hit me to a T. Of course, he says to you, ‘Tell Dod to make up a story to go with it’!”

“Exactly what he said, sir.”

“Sure! That’s what I have done with every curio he has given me.”

For the first time I realized that in my boyhood I had accumulated a fine line of fiction from Dodovah Vose.

But I forgave him in my thoughts, for he took me into the big kitchen and fried me the finest chicken I ever ate. And while he fixed up my supper I told him how I had learned diving with his brother. I comforted him, too, by telling him that I had given up the work only temporarily.

But I switched him when he tried to find out what I was up to at that time. The plug-hat part of my program seemed to puzzle him very much. I was not ready with any good explanation. I figured that I might have some kind of a story ready in the morning, after I had slept on the thing. I began to rely considerably on my work as a fabricator; I had shown quite a lot of aptitude and readiness on short notice, I reflected.

I found myself holding an impromptu reception in the tavern office that evening--and they were all there with their little gimlets of questions, boring for information, you can bet! Therefore I broke away early and went to bed. I staved them all off in good shape, for I could be dignified in those clothes I was wearing. What I was afraid of was that Uncle Deck would pop in. He would not have used any gimlet; he would have set upon me with a pod-auger of inquisition, and would have ridden on it so as to bear down hard! And I had not my story ready!

XI--THE FAILURE OF AN UNCLE-TAMER

FURTHERMORE, in the morning I was just as much at sea. I had gone to sleep as suddenly as if somebody had hit me a tunk on the head; too much fried chicken and hashed brown potato! I did not wake up till Dodo-vah Vose marched through the tavern halls, playing the long roll on his gong. The March sun, level with the eastern windows, quivered with glorious light when I opened my eyes on it. I had all sorts of reasons to be downcast, but I was not when I waked and saw that sun.

Scattered coins, my whole capital, lay on the carpet of braided rags, where they had slipped from my trousers pocket the night before when I hung the garment over a chair. I gazed over the billowing edge of the feather tick in which I was nested, and counted, for the sun lighted the floor and glinted on the coins. One dollar and thirty-seven cents!

However, in spite of that spectacle, I hopped out of bed and dressed, whistling snatches of tupes furnished by music-hall memories. I was home again, Celene Kingsley had given me glances which my hopes translated into all sorts of dear promises--she had asked me to help her; the sun was shining, breakfast was ready! I went down-stairs whistling.

“Head up and tail over the dasher, hey?” was the greeting from Landlord Vose.

“It’s a great world to live in,” I told him. After I had tucked away a slice of home-smoked fried ham only a little smaller than a door-mat, along with eggs and the fixings, I felt even more resolute about fronting what was coming to me.

My spirit of boldness was even a bit hysterical, I guess. I rubbed the nap of my plug-hat smooth with my forearm, pulled on my overcoat, and went out and stood on the tavern porch, inhaling the tingling air of the morning, exhibiting myself to Levant like a gladiator stepping into the arena, announcing by pose and expression: “Here I am. Now come on!”

And the first to answer my challenge was my uncle Deck. I think he had been waiting for me to appear. He walked across the village square, coming from the town office, and I hailed him from afar with a flourish of the hand and a “Good morning!”

Ten feet away he stopped and looked me over. “Why didn’t you come home last night, where you belong, instead of putting up at the tavern and letting me hear about it by word of mouth?”

“Well, Uncle Deck,” I drawled, “you remember--”

“Look here,” he yapped, “as I stand here I don’t know whether to cuff your young chops or shake your hand. A good deal depends on you. If you go to digging up past foolishness I’ll cuff you. As it is”--he stepped forward, hand outstretched--“as it is, son, I’m glad to see you back, and I hear that you have made something of yourself. I’m glad of that, too! Now get your volucus, or whatever your baggage is, and come to the house.”

“I’ll tell you, Uncle Deck,” I explained, dropping his hand after a hearty shake; “I’m here on business this trip, not to go visiting.”

“What difference does that make about coming to my house, where you belong?” he demanded.

He had me there--backed into a corner! He had his pod-auger out, ready to use on me, just as I had apprehended--and so help me! I was not ready with a story.

“What is your business?”

Dignified reserve and a plug-hat would not serve to trig my uncle Deck!

It was necessary for me to dedare then and there what my business in Levant was. I had been clutching wildly into a lot of nebulous thoughts ever since waking, trying to get hold of something solid.

And I found out then, as I had experienced before, and discovered on many occasions later, that there was in me something which enabled me to leap an emergency barrier when the goad was sharp enough and the danger near.

“I’ve got to have dealings with a lot of men and I’d be a nuisance around your premises, Uncle Deck.”

“What dealings? No secret, is it?”

“Certainly not! I’m buying for a big syndicate. Buying standing timber.” I said that because I had already committed myself with Celene Kingsley and it came to me that I’d better have one story and stick to it.

“All right! Buy some of mine.”

“But as I remember it, it’s mostly black growth--pine and spruce.”

“Yes, and cedar, fir, and hemlock! What in thunder does anybody want of any other kind of timber?”

“I can’t use it. I’m buying for a special purpose.”

I felt like a man trying to get across a brook without wetting his feet. Every time I leaped I was mighty glad and rather surprised to find another stepping-stone to land on.

“Then you must be looking for hardwood?”

“That’s it.”

“What are you going to do with it?”

“Burn bricks for our factory chimneys.”

He did not look more than half convinced.

“I can’t go into details even with you, Uncle Deck,” I told him. “I’m ordered to buy close, and when names of big concerns are given out the sellers always raise prices.”

“There’s only one big stand of hardwood in this town,” he said, “and I’ll see you in damnation before I’ll let you buy that!”

“Why?”

The red patches beside his nose began to flame. “Don’t come back at _me_ with your ‘whys’! I’ll tell you why you can’t buy! It’s because you’ll be handing over money to that”--(I never heard coarser oaths; my uncle fairly choked on them)--“to Zebulon Kingsley.”

“I know the lot belongs to Judge Kingsley. I saw the sign on the fence and I happened to meet the judge right there and had some talk with him.”

“Do you mean to tell me that you have been dickering with that--”

I broke in on his list of names. “My concern has ordered me to buy hardwood and I’m buying. I have no quarrel with Judge Kingsley.”

“By the Great Jedux, you _have!_ Don’t you dare to tell me you have forgotten! You _have_ got a quarrel with him. D----n you, look out that you don’t start one with _me!_”

“I have come in here to mind my own business--”

“Condemn your ha’slet!” he cried. “No wonder you didn’t dare to come to my house last night! No wonder you’re fighting shy of me to-day!”

In spite of his anger, I felt a sudden sense of relief. I did not need to waste effort and time on minor falsehoods, trying to explain why I did not come to his house; I could devote all my attention to my main lie.

“I’m not fighting shy of you, Uncle Deck. I’m a business man, and--”

He turned sideways to me and switched his arm furiously, as if he held a goad and was trying to start a balky steer.

“You come along over to my office,” he commanded with a grate in his tones. “This isn’t a matter to blart about on a street corner.”

I followed him. He locked the door behind us.

“You know that I have been elected first selectman of this town?”

“Yes, Uncle Deck. I’m glad the citizens--”

“Yah, for the citizens! First and last, it has cost me five thousand dollars to get this office. And it’s for their own good I worked to get it--and they thought it was only to satisfy my grudge. That’s all the credit a man gets from the fools who vote. But I’m in this office now--I’m headed straight for my mark--and the man who gets in my way will be bored like a cheese target! Do you hear that?”

“Yes, sir.”

“They know enough in this town to keep out of my way! I have trained ’em. You don’t dare to come back here, do you--my own nephew--and get in my way?”

“I’m only attending to my business.”

“Meaning by that you’re thinking of buying a wood-lot from Zebulon Kingsley?”

Secretly I was sort of laughing at myself. Here I was, inviting a lot of trouble by insisting on doing something which was a positive impossibility, so it seemed then as I jingled my coins in my pocket.

“I have my business the same as you have yours, sir. I didn’t know--”

“You did know!” he shouted. “And if you are such a renegade as to forget what has been done to your family by that skunk, you know _now_--for I’m telling you! You can’t do business with Zebulon Kingsley. I say it!” He pounded his fist on his breast.

I kept still. I was trying to work out in my mind some sensible idea as to what I really did intend to do in the matter of that wood-lot.

My uncle leaned toward me over the table in the town office, propping himself on one fist and pounding softly and slowly with the other. His lips were rolled back and he growled his words deep down in his throat, almost in a whisper.

“I know what he is, now. I’ve got the stuff on him. I’ve had to work slow. I’ve had to convince two devilish steers on the board of selectmen without telling ’em what I’m after. But I’ve got ’em. And he is headed for hell and I’m after him. And he knows it now and that’s the best of it! Because I’m taking my time while he is thinking it over! Oh, my gad! if only your father could have lived till now to see how the devilish old gouger and robber is getting his! And he is paying for your mother’s tears and sweat with drops of his blood. And he is paying me, too. I stay up nights to see that lamp in his office window. And you say, do you, that you have come here to hand over money to Zebulon Kingsley? To the man who filed your father’s heart in two with a mortgage?”

“It’s only in the way of ordinary trade,” I ventured. I was wondering why I was continuing to provoke my uncle. But I knew I needed to start considerable of a smoke to screen my real condition from him.

“There is to be no trade between you,” raged my uncle. “No money from you shall touch that scoundrel’s hands!” Just at that moment I was more sure of that than he was.

My uncle gave me a little opportunity to do some thinking, for he went to the office safe and pulled out a bottle and drank.

I wondered what kind of a hold he had on Judge Kingsley. My curiosity was aflame. It was not believable that he could ruin the judge financially, for the Kingsleys had possessed wealth for many generations. Celene Kingsley, as the petted daughter of our village aristocrat, was too far above me for any hopes to bear fruit, even though they budded. But what would the Kingsleys be after my uncle had worked out his revenge, of whose success he seemed to be so sure?

“I know there has been trouble between the families, Uncle Deck,” I said. “I know we were not used right in money matters. But what is it you’re going to do to Judge Kingsley? What is your grip on him?”

He wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand and set back the bottle. “None of your d------d business!”

“I don’t like to go into anything blindfolded. I have business to consider, and I’ll have to make explanations.

“You’ll get off better by making ’em to the men who have hired you than by explaining to me, if you don’t do what I tell you to do.”

“But I’m no kid any longer. I’m running my own affairs, sir. If you can’t let me in on the plans of this thing--”

He advanced on me, waggling his fist. “You’re a devil of a fellow to come and pump me for secrets, you are! What do you want to do--run to him again like you did in the case of that hoss trade? Do you think I have forgotten that?”

“No, and I know you never will, sir.”

“And so I say now, ask no questions and do as I tell you.”

I edged toward the door, for I was pretty well mixed up in my own thoughts and did not care to get into any more of a row with my uncle--and all needlessly.

“Are you giving me your word?” he demanded.

“I’m not promising anything until I can think it over and decide on what’s best to be done, Uncle Deck.”

“You’ll decide now before you leave this office.”

He started toward me, but the key was in the door, and I turned it and stood ready to leave.

“You have come back here to fight me, have you? A Sidney fighting his own and nearest blood kin, eh?” He came close and made threatening gestures. I put my arm across his breast and slowly pushed him back; I gave him good opportunity to note that the arm was a sizable one and mighty hard.

“You plug-hatted dude!” he frothed. “Forgetting the duty you owe to your own because you have had a whirl in the city!”

“I am no dude, Uncle Deck, and calling me names and treating me like a brat, as you used to do, isn’t going to get you anything!”

“You are not standing with your own family.”

“I can be loyal to my family, but I’m not going to-shut my eyes and jump into a row just because you tell me it’s your row.”

I saw that I had produced an impression and he calmed down a bit.

“There may be a good deal you can do to help me in the thing,” he said. “But, blast it! after what you once did to me, I ain’t sure I can trust you!” He squinted his eyes and sized me up shrewdly. “You’re a Sidney, and the old rat did dirt to you before you left this town. If you ain’t willing to rise up now and swoop on him, there’s a reason. You ain’t stuck on that girl of his, are you?”

The blood surged into my face. I couldn’t help it. I was thinking hard about her all through that talk. That was the last thing I would have looked for from my uncle. He had jumped me in fine shape, and he saw it.

“Yah-h-h!” he snarled. “You fool! You devilish fool! It had to be a girl to keep you from doing your plain duty--and I knew it. Nothing but a girl would be putting a twist-bit into your mouth right now!”

“You’re wrong! You’re all wrong!” I protested, but I didn’t sound real convincing.

Nor did he, either, when he started to give me hints about her. His eyes shifted and he stammered. I took him by the arm with a good, hearty clutch and he shut up.

There did not seem to be anything more to say just then, on the part of either of us; plainly, we had squared off at each other!

So I walked out.

I was glad because my first session with my uncle was over. But while I felt relief I knew I had pretty well done for myself where he was concerned. Of course, I had not intended to confess to him my financial condition, but deep down I had felt until then that if worse came to the worst he would see me out of a hole. He would have done something, at least, for my father’s sake. But I had been the one to deal family loyalty the first kick. Now my uncle would see me starve and enjoy my sufferings; his grudges followed just such grooves.

Whatever else was ahead, it was pretty much up to me!

I went back to the tavern, for it was some comfort just to look on Dodovah Vose’s kindly face.

“Let’s see! You’ve been dropping a word or two about doing business here,” he prodded in friendly fashion. “Hope so. It’s quiet in town. We’re all climbing ‘March Hill,’ you know--dull time in the country.”

“I’m here to start something, sir.” I was telling him the truth then. I had just started something over in the town office. I sat down and picked up a newspaper from the table and began to show great interest in reading so that I would not be obliged to talk. I was afraid he would get me cornered. I hung onto that paper as if it were a life-buoy--I read it from title to last line, advertisements and all. It was the _Mechanicsville Herald_, printed in a manufacturing city about thirty miles from Levant, and because I did not miss anything which was printed in it I noted that two concerns wanted cord-wood--and I had just mentioned the matter of cord-wood to my uncle. At all events, I was traveling on a singletrack lie in old Levant!

I laid down that paper and did some mighty lively thinking. Then, to reassure myself, I gave my silk hat the least bit of a cock and marched to Judge Kingsley’s mansion.

Celene herself opened the door so promptly after my ring that I had a cozy little suspicion that she had seen me coming and had hurried to meet me. She was very pretty in her morning gown.

“Oh, your ankle is so much better, isn’t it?” she cried. “I watched you coming across the square.”

She stepped back, inviting me to enter by her manner, and I walked in.

“I knew just what to do for it. It’s pretty nigh all right.”

She led me to the sitting-room, and her mother rose and met me; Mrs. Kingsley was distantly polite, that was all. I was glad even for that much in the case of a Sidney, for I knew that Judge Kingsley’s obedient wife was as careful in matching her opinions to his as she was in matching colors at the store.

“I ask to be excused for calling so early in the day,” I said, with my hat in the hook of my arm, and putting on my best manners. “But this is a business call and I’m in somewhat of a hurry. You heard me speak to your father, Miss Kingsley, about the wood-lot. Now--”

“I never presume to interfere in my husband’s business matters,” said Mrs. Kingsley, looking half scared. “I know nothing whatever about his business.”

“Oh, I am not asking you to do so--certainly not,” I hurried to tell her. “I shall do all my business directly with him. But to do so I need his address in the city. I have come to ask you for it. I suppose he left it.”

“Oh yes--so that I may send his mail.” She looked relieved and gave me the name of a hotel.

I had not presumed to sit down, though I was sure that Celene’s eyes had asked me. I bowed and backed toward the door.

“I thank you. That’s all I wanted. I am sorry I was obliged to intrude.” I felt that I was certainly doing that little thing well. “I may be obliged to call again, if you will allow me.”

Mrs. Kingsley hesitated.

“Of course you may call,” blurted Celene.

“I may have to consult with you in a matter similar to this errand to-day,” I explained. “I’m sorry the judge is not here; in that case I would not be bothering you.”

“I tried to prevail on my husband to stay at home--he is not at all well--there are so many matters which need his attention here,” complained Mrs. Kingsley. “If we can help you with any information we’ll be glad to doit.”

I went away on that, and I guess I left a good impression that I was strictly business!

Feeling sure that the two of them were watching me, I put a lot of business snap into my gait when I returned to the tavern.

“Mr. Vose,” I asked, briskly, “how many hitches have you in your livery-stable?”

“Eight,” he said, “if I include two road-carts.”

“The road-carts are all right, too. I want to use all of ’em, if you can furnish drivers.”

“It’s easy enough to find men in these slack times.”

“And probably farmers and day’s-work men in the back districts of the town would like a job.”

“You can bet on it!”

“Start eight men going, then, as soon as you can get the horses hitched in. Have the messengers pass the word that I can use two hundred husky men. Each man to report here in the tavern yard to-morrow morning at six-thirty with a sharp ax on his shoulder.”

“And what else--tell ’em what else?”

“Nothing.”

“But about wages--and what they’re to do?”

“Tell ’em nothing. They’ll come running in here to find out what it’s all about, Mr. Vose. Don’t even tell ’em who wants ’em. You and I both know how curiosity itches in this town till it has been properly scratched.”

“Guess you’re right,” agreed the landlord. “If you set out to hire ’em regular style they’d want to hem and haw and haggle about so long and so much!”

“If you want a deposit for--” I suggested, reaching toward a breast pocket which was empty.

“Godfrey domino, no!” he protested, flapping his hands. “If you have had to handle business in those suspicious ways down in the city I’m sorry for you. Now forget money talk between us till it’s time to talk.”

I was glad to do that, and I hoped that his ideas of time were liberal.