The Depot Master Part 11

But no. For a full minute the depot master stood, looking in at the woman by the lamp. Then he jammed his hands into his pockets, wheeled, and tramped rapidly off toward his home. Simeon Phinney went home, also, but it was with a heavy heart that he sat down to figure the cost of moving the Williams "pure Colonial" to its destined location.

CHAPTER IV

THE MAJOR

The depot master and his friend, Mr. Phinney, were not the only ones whose souls were troubled that evening. Obed Gott, as he stood at the foot of the stairs leading to the meeting place of the "club," was vexed and worried. His cousin, Captain St.i.tt, had gone into the house and up to his room, and Obed, after seeing him safely on his way, had returned to the club. But, instead of entering immediately, he stood in the Higgins doorway, thinking, and frowning as he thought. And the subject of his thought was the idol of feminine East Harniss, the "old-school gentleman," Major Cuthbertson Scott Hardee.

The Major first came to East Harniss one balmy morning in March--came, and created an immediate sensation. "Redny" Blount, who drives the "depot wagon," was wrestling with a sample trunk belonging to the traveling representative of Messrs. Braid & Gimp, of Boston, when he heard a voice--and such a voice--saying:

"Pardon me, my dear sir, but may I trouble you for one moment?"

Now "Redny" was not used to being addressed as "my dear sir." He turned wonderingly, and saw the Major, in all his glory, standing beside him.

"Redny's" gaze took in the tall, slim figure in the frock coat tightly b.u.t.toned; took in the white hair, worn just long enough to touch the collar of the frock coat; the long, drooping white mustache and imperial; the old-fas.h.i.+oned stock and open collar; the black and white checked trousers; the gaiters; and, last of all, the flat brimmed, carefully brushed, old-fas.h.i.+oned silk hat. Mr. Blount gasped.

"Huh?" he said.

"Pardon me, my dear sir," repeated the Major, blandly, smoothly, and with an air of--well, not condescension, but gracious familiarity. "Will you be so extremely kind as to inform me concerning the most direct route to the hotel or boarding house?"

The word "hotel" was the only part of this speech that struck home to "Redny's" awed mind.

"Hotel?" he repeated, slowly. "Why, yes, sir. I'm goin' right that way.

If you'll git right into my barge I'll fetch you there in ten minutes."

There was enough in this reply, and the manner in which it was delivered, to have furnished the station idlers, in the ordinary course of events, with matter for gossip and discussion for a week. Mr. Blount had not addressed a person as "sir" since he went to school. But no one thought of this; all were too much overcome by the splendor of the Major's presence.

"Thank you," replied the Major. "Thank you. I am obliged to you, sir.

Augustus, you may place the baggage in this gentleman's conveyance."

Augustus was an elderly negro, very black as to face and a trifle shabby as to clothes, but with a shadow of his master's gentility, like a reflected l.u.s.ter, pervading his person. He bowed low, departed, and returned dragging a large, old style trunk, and carrying a plump valise.

"Augustus," said the Major, "you may sit upon the seat with the driver.

That is," he added, courteously, "if Mr.--Mr.--"

"Blount," prompted the gratified "Redny."

"If Mr. Blount will be good enough to permit you to do so."

"Why, sartin. Jump right up. Giddap, you!"

There was but one pa.s.senger, besides the Major and Augustus, in the "depot wagon" that morning. This pa.s.senger was Mrs. Polena Ginn, who had been to Brockton on a visit. To Mrs. Polena the Major, raising his hat in a manner that no native of East Harniss could acquire by a lifetime of teaching, observed that it was a beautiful morning. The fl.u.s.tered widow replied that it "was so." This was the beginning of a conversation that lasted until the "Central House" was reached, a conversation that left Polena impressed with the idea that her new acquaintance was as near the pink of perfection as mortal could be.

"It wa'n't his clothes, nuther," she told her brother, Obed Gott, as they sat at the dinner table. "I don't know what 'twas, but you could jest see that he was a gentleman all over. I wouldn't wonder if he was one of them New York millionaires, like Mr. Williams--but SO different.

'Redny' Blount says he see his name onto the hotel register and 'twas 'Cuthbertson Scott Hardee.' Ain't that a tony name for you? And his darky man called him 'Major.' I never see sech manners on a livin' soul!

Obed, I DO wish you'd stop eatin' pie with a knife."

Under these pleasing circ.u.mstances did Major Cuthbertson Scott Hardee make his first appearance in East Harniss, and the reputation spread abroad by Mr. Blount and Mrs. Ginn was confirmed as other prominent citizens met him, and fell under the spell. In two short weeks he was the most popular and respected man in the village. The Methodist minister said, at the Thursday evening sociable, that "Major Hardee is a true type of the old-school gentleman," whereupon Beriah Higgins, who was running for selectman, and therefore felt obliged to be interested in all educational matters, asked whereabouts that school was located, and who was teaching it now.

It was a treat to see the Major stroll down Main Street to the post office every pleasant spring morning. Coat b.u.t.toned tight, silk hat the veriest trifle on one side, one glove on and its mate carried with the cane in the other hand, and the b.u.t.tonhole bouquet--always the bouquet--as fresh and bright and jaunty as its wearer himself.

It seemed that every housekeeper whose dwelling happened to be situated along that portion of the main road had business in the front yard at the time of the Major's pa.s.sing. There were steps to be swept, or rugs to be shaken, or doork.n.o.bs to be polished just at that particular time.

Dialogues like the following interrupted the triumphal progress at three minute intervals:

"Good-morning, Mrs. Sogberry. GOOD-morning. A delightful morning. Busy as the proverbial bee once more, I see. I can never cease to admire the industry and model neatness of the Ma.s.sachusetts housekeeper. And how is your charming daughter this morning? Better, I trust?"

"Well, now, Major Hardee, I don't know. Abbie ain't so well's I wish she was. She set up a spell yesterday, but the doctor says she ain't gittin'

along the way she'd ought to. I says to him, s'I, 'Abbie ain't never what you'd call a reel hearty eater, but, my land! when she don't eat NOTHIN',' I says--"

And so on and so on, with the Major always willing to listen, always sympathetic, and always so charmingly courteous.

The Central House, East Harniss's sole hotel, and a very small one at that, closed its doors on April 10th. Mr. G.o.dfrey, its proprietor, had come to the country for his health. He had been inveigled, by an advertis.e.m.e.nt in a Boston paper, into buying the Central House at East Harniss. It would afford him, so he reasoned, light employment and a living. The employment was light enough, but the living was lighter. He kept the Central House for a year. Then he gave it up as a bad job and returned to the city. "I might keep my health if I stayed," he admitted, in explaining his position to Captain Berry, "but if I want to keep to what little money I have left, I'd better go. Might as well die of disease as starvation."

Everyone expected that the "gentleman of the old school" would go also, but one evening Abner Payne, whose business is "real estate, fire and life insurance, justice of the peace, and houses to let and for sale,"

rushed into the post office to announce that the Major had leased the "Gorham place," furnished, and intended to make East Harniss his home.

"He likes the village so well he's goin' to stay here always," explained Abner. "Says he's been all 'round the world, but he never see a place he liked so well's he does East Harniss. How's that for high, hey? And you callin' it a one-horse town, Obed Gott!"

The Major moved into the "Gorham place" the next morning. It--the "place"--was an old-fas.h.i.+oned house on the hill, though not on Mr.

Williams' "Boulevard." It had been one of the finest mansions in town once on a time, but had deteriorated rapidly since old Captain Elijah Gorham died. Augustus carried the Major's baggage from the hotel to the house. This was done very early and none of the natives saw the transfer. There was some speculation as to how the darky managed to carry the big trunk single-handed; one of two persons asked Augustus this very question, but they received no satisfactory answer. Augustus was habitually close-mouthed. Mr. G.o.dfrey left town that same morning on the first train.

The Major christened his new home "Silver-leaf Hall," because of two great "silver-leaf" trees that stood by the front door. He had some repairing, paper hanging and painting done, ordered a big stock of groceries from the local dealer, and showed by his every action that his stay in East Harniss was to be a lengthy one. He hired a pew in the Methodist church, and joined the "club." Augustus did the marketing for "Silver-leaf Hall," and had evidently been promoted to the position of housekeeper.

The Major moved in April. It was now the third week in June and his popularity was, if possible, more p.r.o.nounced than ever. On this particular, the evening of Captain Bailey St.i.tt's unexpected arrival, Obed had been sitting by the tea table in his dining room after supper, going over the account books of his paint, paper, and oil store. His sister, Mrs. Polena Ginn, was was.h.i.+ng dishes in the kitchen.

"Wat's that letter you're readin', Obed?" she called from her post by the sink.

"Nothin'," said her brother, gruffly, crumpling up the sheet of note paper and jamming it into his pocket.

"My sakes! you're shorter'n pie crust to-night. What's the matter?

Anything gone wrong at the store?"

"No."

Silence again, only broken by the clatter of dishes. Then Polena said:

"Obed, when are you goin' to take me up to the clubroom so's I can see that picture of Major Hardee that he presented the club with? Everybody says it's just lovely. Sarah T. says it's perfectly elegant, only not quite so handsome as the Major reelly is. She says it don't flatter him none."

"Humph! Anybody'd think Hardee was some kind of a wonder, the way you women folks go on 'bout him. How do you know but what he might be a reg'lar fraud? Looks ain't everything."

"Well, I never! Obed Gott, I should think you'd be 'shamed of yourself, talkin' that way. I shan't speak another word to you to-night. I never see you act so unlikely. An old fraud! The idea! That grand, n.o.ble man!"

Obed tried to make some sort of half-hearted apology, but his sister wouldn't listen to it. Polena's dignity was touched. She was a woman of consequence in East Harniss, was Polena. Her husband had, at his death, left her ten thousand dollars in her own right, and she owned bonds and had money in the Wellmouth Bank. n.o.body, not even her brother, was allowed to talk to her in that fas.h.i.+on.

To tell the truth, Obed was sorry he had offended his sister. He had been throwing out hints of late as to the necessity of building an addition to the paint and oil store, and had cast a longing look upon a portion of Polena's ten thousand. The lady had not promised to extend the financial aid, but she had gone so far as to say she would think about it. So Obed regretted his insinuations against the Major's integrity.

After a while he threw the account books upon the top of the chest of drawers, put on his hat and coat and announced that he was going over to the depot for a "spell." Polena did not deign to reply, so, after repeating the observation, he went out and slammed the door.