The Depot Master Part 51

"You bet you won't forgit it, Sam Bartlett!" he crowed, in trembling but delicious triumph. "You bet you won't! I've fixed you just the same as the Black Rover fixed the mutineers. Run off with my girl, will ye? And marry her, will ye? I--"

Sam interrupted him. "Why! WHY!" he cried. "That's--that's Gertie's house! This isn't Trumet! IT'S EAST HARNISS!"

The next moment he was seized from behind. The skipper's arms were around his waist and the skipper's thin legs twisted about his own. They fell together upon the sand and, as they rolled and struggled, Issy's yells rose loud and high.

"Mr. Higgins!" he shrieked. "Mr. Higgins! Come on! I've got him! I've got the feller that's tryin' to steal your daughter! Come on! I've got him! I'm hangin' to him!"

A door banged open. Some one rushed down the walk. And then a girl's voice cried in alarm:

"What is it? Who is it? What IS the matter?"

And from the bundle of legs and arms on the ground two voices exclaimed: "GERTIE!"

"But where IS your father?" asked Sam. Issy asked nothing. He merely sat still and listened.

"Why, he's at Trumet. At least I suppose he is. Mrs. Jones--she's gone to telephone to him now--says that he came home this morning with one of those dreadful 'attacks' of his. And after dinner he seemed so sick that, when she went for the doctor, she wired me at Auntie's to come home. I didn't want to come--you know why--but I COULDN'T let him die alone. And so I caught the three o'clock train and came. I knew you'd forgive me. But it seems that when Mrs. Jones came back with the doctor they found father up and dressed and storming like a crazy man. He had received some sort of a letter; he wouldn't say what. And, in spite of all they could do, he insisted on going out. And Cap'n Berry--the depot master--says he went to Trumet on the afternoon freight. We must have pa.s.sed each other on the way. And I'm so--But why are you HERE? And what were you and Issy doing? And--"

Her lover broke in eagerly. "Then you're alone now?" he asked.

"Yes, but--"

"Good! Your father can't get a train back from Trumet before to-morrow morning. I don't know what this letter was--but never mind. Perhaps friend McKay knows more about it. It may be that Mr. Higgins is waiting now outside the Baptist church. Gertie, now's our chance. You come with me right up to the minister's. He's a friend of mine. He understands.

He'll marry us, I know. Come! We mustn't lose a minute. Your dad may take a notion to drive back."

He led her off up the lane, she protesting, he urging. At the corner of the house he turned.

"I say, Is!" he called. "Don't you want to come to the wedding? Seems to me we owe you that, considering all you've done to help it along. Or perhaps you want to stay and fix that compa.s.s of yours."

Issy didn't answer. Some time after they had gone he arose from the ground and stumbled home. That night he put a paper novel into the stove. Next morning, before going to the depot, he removed an iron spike from the Lady May's compa.s.s box. The needle swung back to its proper position.

CHAPTER XVIII

THE MOUNTAIN AND MAHOMET

The eleventh of July. The little Berry house stood high on its joists and rollers, in the middle of the Hill Boulevard, directly opposite the Edwards lot. Close behind it loomed the big "Colonial." Another twenty-four hours, and, even at its one-horse gait, the depot master's dwelling would be beyond the strip of Edwards fence. The "Colonial"

would be ready to move on the lot, and Olive Edwards, the widow, would be obliged to leave her home. In fact, Mr. Williams had notified her that she and her few belongings must be off the premises by the afternoon of the twelfth.

The great Williams was in high good-humor. He chuckled as he talked with his foreman, and the foreman chuckled in return. Simeon Phinney did not chuckle. He was anxious and worried, and even the news of Gertie Higgins's runaway marriage, brought to him by Obed Gott, who--having been so recently the victim of another unexpected matrimonial alliance--was wickedly happy over the postmaster's discomfiture, did not interest him greatly.

"Well, I wonder who'll be the next couple," speculated Obed. "First Polena and old Hardee, then Gertie Higgins and Sam Bartlett! I declare, Sim, gettin' married unbeknownst to anybody must be catchin', like the measles. n.o.body's safe unless they've got a wife or husband livin'. Me and Sol Berry are old baches--we'd better get vaccinated or WE may come down with the disease. Ho! ho!"

After dinner Mr. Phinney went from his home to the depot. Captain Sol was sitting in the ticket office, with the door shut. On the platform, forlornly sprawled upon the baggage truck, was Issy McKay, the picture of desolation. He started nervously when he heard Simeon's step. As yet Issy's part in the Bartlett-Higgins episode was unknown to the townspeople. Sam and Gertie had considerately kept silence. Beriah had not learned who sent him the warning note, the unlucky missive which had brought his troubles to a climax. But he was bound to learn it, he would find out soon, and then--No wonder Issy groaned.

"Come in here, Sim," said the depot master. Phinney entered the ticket office.

"Shut the door," commanded the Captain. The order was obeyed. "Well, what is it?" asked Berry.

"Why, I just run in to see you a minute, Sol, that's all. What are you shut up in here all alone for?"

"'Cause I want to be alone. There's been more than a thousand folks in this depot so far to-day, seems so, and they all wanted to talk. I don't feel like talkin'."

"Heard about Gertie Higgins and--"

"Yes."

"Who told you?"

"Hiram Baker told me first. He's a fine feller and he's so tickled, now that his youngster's 'most well, that he cruises around spoutin' talk and joy same as a steamer's stack spouts cinders. He told me. Then Obed Gott and Cornelius Rowe and Redny Blount and Pat Starkey, and land knows how many more, came to tell me. I cut 'em short. Why, even the Major himself condescended to march in, grand and imposin' as a procession, to make proclamations about love laughin' at locksmiths, and so on. Since he got Polena and her bank account he's a bigger man than the President, in his own estimate."

"Humph! Well, he better make the best of it while it lasts. P'lena ain't Hetty Green, and her money won't hold out forever."

"That's a fact. Still Polena's got sense. She'll hold Hardee in check, I cal'late. I wouldn't wonder if it ended by her bossin' things and the Major actin' as a sort of pet poodle dog--nice and pretty to walk out with, but always kept at the end of a string."

"You didn't go to Higgins's for dinner to-day, did you?"

"No. Nor I shan't go for supper. Beriah's bad enough when he's got nothin' the matter with him but dyspepsy. Now that his sufferin's are complicated with elopements, I don't want to eat with him."

"Come and have supper with us."

"I guess not, thank you, Sim. I'll get some crackers and cheese and such at the store. I--I ain't very hungry these days."

He turned his head and looked out of the window. Simeon fidgeted.

"Sol," he said, after a pause, "we'll be past Olive's by to-morrer night."

No answer. Sim repeated his remark.

"I know it," was the short reply.

"Yes--yes, I s'posed you did, but--"

"Sim, don't bother me now. This is my last day here at the depot, and I've got things to do."

"Your last day? Why, what--?"

Captain Sol told briefly of his resignation and of the coming of the new depot master.

"But you givin' up your job!" gasped Phinney. "YOU! Why, what for?"

"For instance, I guess. I ain't dependent on the wages, and I'm sick of the whole thing."

"But what'll you do?"

"Don't know."