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diff --git a/42768-8.txt b/42768-8.txt deleted file mode 100644 index bdc07d2..0000000 --- a/42768-8.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6262 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg EBook of Much Ado About Peter, by Jean Webster - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere at no cost and with -almost no restrictions whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or -re-use it under the terms of the Project Gutenberg License included -with this eBook or online at www.gutenberg.org - - -Title: Much Ado About Peter - -Author: Jean Webster - -Release Date: May 22, 2013 [EBook #42768] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MUCH ADO ABOUT PETER *** - - - - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Martin Pettit and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - - - - - -MUCH ADO ABOUT PETER - -BY -JEAN WEBSTER - -AUTHOR OF -DADDY LONG-LEGS, -DEAR ENEMY, ETC. - -[Illustration: Decoration] - -NEW YORK -GROSSET & DUNLAP -PUBLISHERS - -Made in the United States of America - - -[Illustration: " ... PLUNGED INTO A RECKLESS FLIRTATION WITH MARY, THE -CHAMBERMAID"] - - -ALL RIGHTS RESERVED, INCLUDING THAT OF TRANSLATION -INTO FOREIGN LANGUAGES, INCLUDING THE SCANDINAVIAN - -COPYRIGHT, 1905, BY THE S. S. MCCLURE COMPANY -COPYRIGHT, 1907, BY THE CROWELL PUBLISHING COMPANY -COPYRIGHT, 1908, BY THE PHILLIPS PUBLISHING COMPANY -COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY HAMPTON'S BROADWAY MAGAZINE - -COPYRIGHT, 1909, BY DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY -PUBLISHED, MARCH, 1909 - - - - -CONTENTS - - -CHAPTER PAGE - I. Gervie Zame, Gervie Door 3 - - II. The Ruffled Frock 33 - - III. Their Innocent Diversions 57 - - IV. Dignity and the Elephant 81 - - V. The Rise of Vittorio 113 - - VI. Held for Ransom 139 - - VII. George Washington's Understudy 175 - -VIII. A Usurped Prerogative 209 - - IX. Mrs. Carter as Fate 243 - - X. A Parable for Husbands 281 - - - - -Much Ado About Peter - - - - -I - -GERVIE ZAME, GERVIE DOOR - - -Peter and Billy, the two upper grooms at Willowbrook, were polishing the -sides of the tall mail phaeton with chamois-skin rubbers and whistling, -each a different tune, as they worked. So intent were they upon this -musical controversy that they were not aware of Mrs. Carter's approach -until her shadow darkened the carriage-house doorway. She gathered up -her skirts in both hands and gingerly stepped inside. Peter had been -swashing water about with a liberal hand, and the carriage-house floor -was damp. - -"Where is Joe?" she inquired. - -"He's out in the runway, ma'am, jumpin' Blue Gipsy. Shall I call him, -ma'am?" Billy answered, as the question appeared to be addressed to him. - -"No matter," said Mrs. Carter, "one of you will do as well." - -She advanced into the room, walking as nearly as possible on her heels. -It was something of a feat; Mrs. Carter was not so light as she had been -twenty-five years before. Peter followed her movements with a shade of -speculative wonder in his eye; should she slip it would be an -undignified exhibition. There was even a shade of hope beneath his -respectful gaze. - -"Why do you use so much water, Peter? Is it necessary to get the floor -so wet?" - -"It runs off, ma'am." - -"It is very unpleasant to walk in." - -Peter winked at Billy with his off eye, and stood at attention until she -should have finished her examination of the newly washed phæton. - -"The cushions are dripping wet," she observed. - -"I washed 'em on purpose, ma'am. They was spattered thick with mud." - -"There is danger of spoiling the leather if you put on too much water." - -She turned to an inspection of the rest of the room, sniffing dubiously -in the corner where the harness greasing was carried on, and lifting her -skirts a trifle higher. - -"It's disgustingly dirty," she commented, "but I suppose you can't help -it." - -"Axle grease _is_ sort o' black," Peter agreed graciously. - -"Well," she resumed, returning to her errand with an appearance of -reluctance, "I want you, William--or Peter either, it doesn't matter -which--to drive into the village this evening to meet the eight-fifteen -train from the city. I am expecting a new maid. Take Trixy and the -buckboard and bring her trunk out with you. Eight-fifteen, remember," -she added as she turned toward the doorway. "Be sure to be on time, for -she won't know what to do." - -"Yes, ma'am," said Peter and Billy in chorus. - -They watched in silence her gradual retreat to the house. She stopped -once or twice to examine critically a clipped shrub or a freshly spaded -flower-bed, but she finally passed out of hearing. Billy uttered an -eloquent grunt; while Peter hitched up his trousers in both hands and -commenced a tour of the room on his heels. - -"William," he squeaked in a high falsetto, "you've spilt a great deal -more water than is necessary on this here floor. You'd ought to be more -careful; it will warp the boards." - -"Yes, ma'am," said Billy with a grin. - -"An' goodness me! What is this horrid stuff in this box?" He sniffed -daintily at the harness grease. "How many times must I tell you, -William, that I don't want anything like that on _my_ harnesses? I want -them washed in nice, clean soap an' water, with a little dash of -_ee-oo-dee cologne_." - -Billy applauded with appreciation. - -"An' now, Peter," Peter resumed, addressing an imaginary self, "I am -expectin' a new maid to-night--a pretty little French maid just like -Annette. I am sure that she will like you better than any o' the other -men, so I wish you to meet her at the eight-fifteen train. Be sure to be -on time, for the poor little thing won't know what to do." - -"No, you don't," interrupted Billy. "She told me to meet her." - -"She didn't either," said Peter, quickly reassuming his proper person. -"She said either of us, which ever was most convenient, an' I've got to -go into town anyway on an errand for Miss Ethel." - -"She said me," maintained Billy, "an' I'm goin' to." - -"Aw, are you?" jeered Peter. "You'll walk, then. I'm takin' Trixy with -me." - -"Hey, Joe," called Billy, as the coachman's steps were heard approaching -down the length of the stable, "Mrs. Carter come out here an' said I was -to meet a new maid to-night, an' Pete says he's goin' to. Just come an' -tell him to mind 'is own business." - -Joe appeared in the doorway, with a cap cocked on the side of his head, -and a short bull-dog pipe in his mouth. It was strictly against the -rules to smoke in the stables, but Joe had been autocrat so long that he -made his own rules. He could trust himself--but woe to the groom who so -much as scratched a safety-match within his domain. - -"A new maid is it?" he inquired, as a grin of comprehension leisurely -spread itself across his good-natured rubicund face. "I s'pose you're -thinking it's pretty near your turn, hey, Billy?" - -"I don't care nothin' about new maids," said Billy, sulkily, "but Mrs. -Carter said me." - -"You're awful particular all of a sudden about obeying orders," said -Joe. "I don't care which one of you fetches out the new maid," he added. -"I s'pose if Pete wants to, he's got the first say." - -The Carter stables were ruled by a hierarchy with Joe at the head, the -order of precedence being based upon a union of seniority and merit. Joe -had ruled for twelve years. He had held the position so long that he had -insidiously come to believe in the divine right of coachmen. Nothing -short of a revolution could have dislodged him against his will; in a -year or so, however, he was planning to abdicate in order to start a -livery stable of his own. The money was even now waiting in the bank. -Peter, who had commenced as stable-boy ten years before, was -heir-presumptive to the place, and the shadow of his future greatness -was already upon him. Billy, who had served but a few meagre months at -Willowbrook, did not realize that the highest honours are obtained only -after a painful novitiate. He saw no reason why he should not be -coachman another year just as much as Peter; in fact, he saw several -reasons why he should be. He drove as well, he was better looking--he -told himself--and he was infinitely larger. To Billy's simple -understanding it was quantity, not quality, that makes the man. He -resented Peter's assumption of superiority, and he intended, when -opportunity should present itself, to take it out of Peter. - -"I don't care about fetchin' out the new maid any more than Billy," -Peter nonchalantly threw off after a prolonged pause, "only I've got to -take a note to the Holidays for Miss Ethel, and I'd just as lief stop at -the station; it won't be much out o' me way." - -"All right," said Joe. "Suit yourself." - -Peter smiled slightly as he fell to work again, humming under his -breath a song that was peculiarly aggravating to Billy. "_Je vous aime, -je vous adore_," it ran. Peter trilled it, "_Gervie zame, gervie door_," -but it answered the purpose quite as well as if it had been pronounced -with the best Parisian accent. - - -The last maid--the one who had left four days before--had been French, -and during her three weeks' reign at Willowbrook she had stirred to its -foundations every unattached masculine heart on the premises. Even -Simpkins, the elderly English butler, had unbent and smiled foolishly -when she coquettishly chucked him under the chin in passing through the -hall. Mary, the chambermaid, had been a witness to this tender passage, -and poor Simpkins's dignity ever since had walked on shaky ground. But -Annette's charms had conquered more than Simpkins. Tom, the gardener, -had spent the entire three weeks of her stay in puttering about the -shrubs that grew in the vicinity of the house; while the stablemen had -frankly prostrated themselves--with the exception of Joe, who was -married and not open to Gallic allurements. It was evident from the -first, however, that Peter and Billy were the favoured ones. For two -weeks the race between them had been even, and then Peter had slowly, -but perceptibly, pulled ahead. - -He had returned one morning from an errand to the house with a new song -upon his lips. It was in the French language. He sang it through several -times with insistent and tender emphasis. Billy maintained a proud -silence as long as curiosity would permit; finally he inquired gruffly: - -"What's that you're givin' us?" - -"It's a song," said Peter, modestly. "Annette taught it to me," and he -hummed it through again. - -"What does it mean?" - -Peter's rendering was free. - -"It means," he said, "I don't love no one but you, me dear." - -This episode was the beginning of strained relations between the two. -There is no telling how far their differences would have gone, had the -firebrand not been suddenly removed. - -One morning Joe was kept waiting under the _porte-cochère_ unusually -long for Mrs. Carter to start on her daily progress to the village, but -instead of Mrs. Carter, finally, his passenger was Annette--bound to the -station with her belongings piled about her. Joe had a wife of his own, -and it was none of his affair what happened to Annette, but he had -observed the signs of the weather among his underlings, and he was -interested on their account to know the wherefore of the business. -Annette, however--for a French woman--was undemonstrative. All that Joe -gathered in return for his sympathetic questions (they were sympathetic; -Joe was human even if he was married) was a series of indignant sniffs, -and the assertion that she was going because she wanted to go. She -wouldn't work any longer in a place like that; Mrs. Carter was an old -cat, and Miss Ethel was a young one. She finished with some idiomatic -French, the context of which Joe did not gather. - -Billy received the news of the departure with unaffected delight, and -Peter with philosophy. After all, Annette had only had three weeks in -which to do her work, and three weeks was too short a space for even the -most fetching of French maids to stamp a very deep impression upon -Peter's roving fancy. Four days had passed and his wound was nearly -healed. He was able to sit up and look about again by the time that Mrs. -Carter ordered the meeting of the second maid. Ordinarily the grooms -would not have been so eager to receive the assignment of an unallotted -task, but the memory of Annette still rankled, and it was felt between -them that the long drive from the station was a golden opportunity for -gaining a solid start in the newcomer's affections. - -The stablemen did not eat with the house servants; Joe's wife furnished -their meals in the coachman's cottage. That evening Peter scrambled -through his supper in evident haste. He had an important engagement, he -explained, with a meaning glance toward Billy. He did take time between -mouthfuls, however, to remark on the fact that it was going to be a -beautiful moonlight night, just a "foin" time for a drive. - -An hour later, Billy having somewhat sulkily hitched Trixy to the -buckboard under Joe's direction, Peter swaggered in with pink and white -freshly shaven face, smelling of bay-rum and the barber's, with shining -top-hat and boots, and spotless white breeches, looking as immaculate a -groom as could be found within a hundred miles of New York. He jauntily -took his seat, waved his whip toward Billy and Joe, and touched up Trixy -with a grin of farewell. - -Later in the evening the men were lounging in a clump of laurels at one -side of the carriage-house, where a hammock and several battered veranda -chairs had drifted out from the house for the use of the stable hands. -Simpkins, who occasionally unbent sufficiently to join them, was with -the party to-night, and he heard the story of Peter's latest perfidy. -Simpkins could sympathize with Billy; his own sensibilities had been -sadly lacerated in the matter of Annette. Joe leaned back and smoked -comfortably, lending his voice occasionally to the extent of a grunt. -The grooms' differences were nothing to him, but they served their -purpose as amusement. - -Presently the roll of wheels sounded on the gravel, and they all -strained forward with alert interest. The driveway leading to the back -door swerved broadly past the laurels, and--as Peter had remarked--it -was a bright moonlight night. The cart came into view, bowling fast, -Peter as stiff as a ramrod staring straight ahead, while beside him sat -a brawny Negro woman twice his size, with rolling black eyes and -gleaming white teeth. An explosion sounded from the laurels, and Peter, -who knew what it meant, cut Trixy viciously. - -He dumped his passenger's box upon the back veranda with a thud, and -drove on to the stables where he unhitched poor patient little Trixy in -a most unsympathetic fashion. Billy strolled in while he was still -engaged with her harness. Peter affected not to notice him. Billy -commenced to hum, "_Je vous aime, je vous adore_." He was no French -scholar; he had not had Peter's advantages, but the tune alone was -sufficiently suggestive. - -"Aw, dry up," said Peter. - -"Pleasant moonlight night," said Billy. - -Peter threw the harness on to the hook with a vicious turn that landed -the most of it on the floor, and stumped upstairs to his room over the -carriage-house. - -For the next few days Peter's life was rendered a burden. Billy and Joe -and Simpkins and Tom, even good-natured Nora in the kitchen, never met -him without covert allusions to the affair. The gardener at Jasper -Place, next door, called over the hedge one morning to inquire if they -didn't have a new maid at their house. On the third day after the -arrival the matter reached its logical conclusion. - -"Hey, Pete," Billy called up to him in the loft where he was pitching -down hay for the horses. "Come down here quick; there's some one wants -to see you." - -Peter clambered down wearing an expectant look, and was confronted by -the three grinning faces of Billy, Tom, and David McKenna, the gardener -from Jasper Place. - -"It was Miss Johnsing," said Billy. "She was in a hurry an' said she -couldn't wait, but she'd like to have you meet her on the back stoop. -She's got a new song she wants to teach you." - -Peter took off his coat and looked Billy over for a soft spot on which -to begin. Billy took off his coat and accepted the challenge, while -David, who was a true Scotchman in his love of war, delightedly -suggested that they withdraw to a more secluded spot. The four trooped -in silence to a clump of willow trees in the lower pasture, Peter grimly -marching ahead. - -Billy was a huge, loose-jointed fellow who looked as if he could have -picked up little Peter and slung him over his shoulder like a sack of -flour. Peter was slight and wiry and quick. He had once intended to be a -jockey, but in spite of an anxious avoidance of potatoes and other -fattening food-stuffs, he had steadily grown away from it. When he -finally reached one hundred and sixty-six pounds he relinquished his -ambition forever. Those one hundred and sixty-six pounds were so -beautifully distributed, however, that the casual observer would never -have guessed their presence, and many a weightier man had found to his -sorrow that Peter did not belong to the class he looked. - -The hostilities opened with Billy's good-natured remark: "I don't want -to hurt you, Petey. I just want to teach you manners." - -Ten minutes later Peter had taught him manners, and was striding across -the fields to work off his surplus energy, while Billy, whose florid -face had taken on a livelier tinge, was comforting a fast-swelling eye -at the drinking trough. - -It was the last that Peter heard of the maid, except for a mild lecture -from Joe. "See here, Pete," he was greeted upon his return, "I'm given -to understand that you've been fighting for your lady-love. I just want -you to remember one thing, young man, and that is that I won't have no -fighting about these premises in business hours. You've laid up Billy -for the day, and you can go and do his work." - -Three weeks rolled over the head of "Miss Johnsing," and then she, too, -departed. It developed that a husband had returned from a vacation on -"the island" and wished to settle down to family life again. A week -passed at Willowbrook without a parlour-maid, and then one day, as Peter -returned from the lower meadow where he had been trying to entice a -reluctant colt into putting its head into the halter, he was hailed by -Joe with: - -"Say, Pete, Mrs. Carter sent out word that you're to go to the station -to-night and fetch out a new maid." - -"Aw, go on," said Peter. - -"That's straight." - -"If there's a new maid comin' Billy can get her. I ain't interested in -maids." - -"Them's orders," said Joe. "'Tell Peter,' she says, 'that he's to drive -in with the buckboard and meet the eight-fifteen train from the city. -I'm expectin' a new maid,' she says, but she neglected to mention what -colour she was expectin' her to be." - -Peter grunted by way of answer, and Joe chuckled audibly as he hitched -up his trousers and rolled off toward his own house to tell his wife the -joke. The subject was covertly alluded to at supper that night, with -various speculations as to the colour, nationality, and possible size of -the newcomer. Peter emphatically stated his intention of not going near -the blame station. When the train hour approached, however, the stables -were conspicuously empty, and there was nothing for him to do but -swallow his assertion and meet the maid. - -As he drove down the hill toward the station he saw that the -eight-fifteen train was already in, but he noted the fact without -emotion. He was not going to hurry himself for all the maids in -creation; she could just wait until he got there. He drew up beside the -platform and sat surveying the people with mild curiosity until such -time as the maid chose to search him out. But his pulses suddenly -quickened as he heard a clear voice, with an adorable suggestion of -brogue behind it, inquire of the station-master: - -"Will you tell me, sor, how I'll be gettin' to Mr. Jerome B. Carter's?" - -"Here's one of the Carter rigs now," said the man. - -The girl turned quickly and faced Peter, and all his confused senses -told him that she was pretty--prettier than Annette--pretty beyond all -precedent. Her eyes were blue, and her hair was black and her colour was -the colour that comes from a childhood spent out of doors in County -Cork. - -He hastily scrambled out of his seat and touched his hat. "Beggin' yer -pardon, ma'am, are ye the new maid? Mrs. Carter sent me to fetch ye out. -If ye'll gi' me yer check, ma'am, I'll get yer trunk." - -The girl gave up her check silently, quite abashed by this very dressy -young groom. She had served during the two years of her American -experience as "second girl" in a brown-stone house in a side street, and -though she had often watched men of Peter's kind from a bench by the -park driveway, she had never in her life come so near to one as this. -While he was searching for her trunk, she hastily climbed into the cart -and moved to the extreme end of the left side of the seat, lest the -apparition should return and offer assistance. She sat up very stiffly, -wondering meanwhile, with a beating heart, if he would talk or just -stare straight ahead the way they did in the park. - -Peter helped the baggage-man lift in her trunk, and as he did it he -paused to take a good square look. "Gee, but Billy will want to kick -himself!" was his delighted inward comment as he clambered up beside her -and gathered the reins in his hands. They drove up the hill without -speaking, but once Peter shot a sidewise glance at her at the same -moment that she looked at him, and they both turned pink. This was -embarrassing, but reassuring. He was, then, nothing but a man in spite -of his clothes, and with a man she knew how to deal. - -A full moon was rising above the trees and the twilight was fading into -dusk. As Billy had justly observed at the supper table, it was a fine -night in which to get acquainted. The four miles between the station and -Willowbrook suddenly dwindled into insignificance in Peter's sight, and -at the top of the hill he turned Trixy's head in exactly the wrong -direction. - -"If ye have no objections," he observed, "we'll drive the long way by -the beach because the roads is better." - -The new maid had no objections, or at least she did not voice any, and -they rolled along between the fragrant hedgerows in silence. Peter was -laboriously framing to himself an opening remark, and he found nothing -ludicrous in the situation; but to the girl, whose Irish sense of humour -was inordinately developed, it appeared very funny to be riding alone -beside a live, breathing groom, in top-hat and shining boots, who turned -red when you looked at him. - -She suddenly broke into a laugh--a low, clear, bubbling laugh that -lodged itself in Peter's receptive heart. He looked around a moment with -a slightly startled air, and then, as his eyes met hers, he too laughed. -It instantly cleared the atmosphere. He pulled Trixy to a walk and faced -her. His laborious introductory speech was forgotten; he went to the -point with a sigh of relief. - -"I guess we're goin' to like each other--you an' me," he said softly. - -The moon was shining and the hawthorn flowers were sweet. Annie's eyes -looked back at him rather shyly, and her dimples trembled just below the -surface. Peter hastily turned his eyes away lest he look too long. - -"Me name's Peter," he said, "Peter Malone. Tell me yours, so we'll be -feelin' acquainted." - -"Annie O'Reilly." - -"Annie O'Reilly," he repeated. "There's the right swing to it. 'Tis -better than Annette." - -"Annette?" inquired Annie. - -She had perceived that he was a man; he now perceived that she was a -woman, and that Annette's name might better not have been mentioned. - -"Ah, Annette," he said carelessly, "a parlour-maid we had a while ago; -an' mighty glad we was to be rid of her," he added cannily. - -"Why?" asked Annie. - -"She was French; she had a temper." - -"I'm Irish; I have a temper--will ye be glad to be rid o' me?" - -"Oh, an' I'm Irish meself," laughed Peter, with a broader brogue than -usual. "'Tis not Irish tempers I'm fearin'. Thim I c'n manage." - -When they turned in at the gates of Willowbrook--some half an hour later -than they were due, owing to Peter's extemporaneous route by the -beach--he slowed Trixy to a walk that he might point out to his -companion the interesting features of her new home. As they passed the -laurels they were deeply engaged in converse, and a heavy and respectful -silence hung about the region. - -"Good night, Mr. Malone," said Annie, as he deposited her trunk on the -back veranda. "'Tis obliged to ye I am for bringin' me out." - -"Oh, drop the Mister Malone!" he grinned. "Peter's me name. Good night, -Annie. I hope as ye'll like it. It won't be my fault if ye don't." - -He touched his hat, and swinging himself to the seat, drove whistling to -the stables. He unhitched Trixy and gave her a handful of salt. "Here, -old girl, what are ye tryin' to do?" he asked as she rubbed her nose -against his shoulder, and he started her toward her stall with a -friendly whack on the back. As he was putting away her harness, Billy -lounged in, bent on no errand in particular. Peter threw him a careless -nod, and breaking off his whistling in the middle of a bar, he fell to -humming softly a familiar tune. "_Gervie zame, gervie door_," was the -song that he sang. - - - - -II - -THE RUFFLED FROCK - - -It was the Fourth of July, and Annie was hurrying with her work in order -to get out and celebrate. She had no particular form of celebration in -view, but she had a strong feeling that holidays, particularly Fourths -of July, ought to be celebrated; and she was revolving in her mind -several possible projects, in all of which Peter figured largely. Aside -from its being the Fourth of July, it was Thursday, and Thursday was -Peter's afternoon off. She put away the last of the dishes with a gay -little burst of song as she glanced through the window at the beckoning -outside world. It was a bright sunshiny day with a refreshing breeze -blowing from the sea. The blue waters of the bay, sparkling at the foot -of the lower meadow, were dotted over with white sailboats. - -"Do ye want anything more of me, Nora?" she asked. - -"No, be off with you, child," said Nora, good-naturedly. "I'll finish -puttin' to rights meself," and she gathered up the dish-towels and -carried them into the laundry. - -Annie paused by the screen door leading on to the back veranda, and -stood regarding the stables speculatively. She was wondering what would -be the most diplomatic way of approaching Peter. Her speculations were -suddenly interrupted by the appearance in the kitchen of Miss Ethel, -with a very beruffled white muslin frock in her arms. - -"Annie," she said, "you'll have to wash this dress. I forgot to have -Kate do it yesterday, and I want to wear it to-night. Have it ready by -five o'clock and be careful about the lace." - -She threw the frock across the back of a chair, and ran on out of doors -to join a laughing crowd of young people about the tennis-court. Annie -stood in the middle of the floor and watched her with a fast-clouding -brow. - -"An' never so much as said please!" she muttered to herself. She walked -over and picked up the frock. It was very elaborate with ruffles and -tucks and lace insertion; its ironing meant a good two hours' work. -Ironing muslin gowns on a Fourth of July was not Annie's business. She -turned it about slowly and her eyes filled with tears--not of sorrow for -the lost afternoon, but of anger at the injustice of demanding such work -from her on such a day. - -Presently Nora came in again. She paused in the doorway, her arms -akimbo, and regarded Annie. - -"What's that you've got?" she inquired. - -Then the floodgates of Annie's wrath were opened and she poured out her -tale. - -"Don't you mind it, Annie darlin'," said Nora, trying to comfort her. -"Miss Ethel didn't mean nothin'. She was in a hurry, likely, an' she -didn't stop to think." - -"Didn't think! Why can't she wear some other dress? She's got a whole -room just full o' dresses, an' she has to have that special one ironed -at a minute's notice. An' Kate comin' three days in the week! It isn't -my place to wash--that isn't what Mrs. Carter engaged me for--I wouldn't -'a' minded so much if she'd asked it as a favour, but she just ordered -me as if washin' was me work. On Fourth o' July, too, an' Mrs. Carter -tellin' me I could have the afternoon off--an' all those ruffles--'have -it done by five o'clock,' she says, an' goes out to play." - -Annie threw the dress in a fluffy pile in the middle of the floor. - -"I shan't do it! I won't be ordered about that way by Miss Ethel or -anybody else." - -"I'd do it for you meself, Annie, but I couldn't iron that waist no -more 'n a kangaroo. But you just get to work on it; you iron beautiful -and it won't take you long when you once begin." - -"Won't take me long? It'll take me the whole afternoon; it'll take me -forever. I shan't touch it!" - -Annie's eyes wandered out of doors again. The sunshine seemed brighter, -the songs of the birds louder, the glimpse of the bay more enticing. -And, as she looked, Peter came sauntering out from the stables--Peter in -his town clothes, freshly shaven, with a new red necktie and a flower in -his buttonhole. He was coming toward the kitchen. - -Annie's lips trembled and she kicked the dress spitefully. - -Peter appeared in the doorway. He, too, had been revolving projects for -the fitting celebration of the day, and he wished tentatively to broach -them to Annie. - -"What's up?" he inquired, looking from Annie's flushed cheeks to Nora's -troubled eyes. - -Annie repeated the story, growing more and more aggrieved as she dwelt -upon her wrongs. "An' never so much as said please," she finished. - -"That's nothin'--ye mustn't mind it, Annie. Miss Ethel ain't used to -sayin' please." Peter was gropingly endeavouring to soothe her. "I -remember times when she was a little girl she'd be so sassy, that, Lor', -me fingers was itchin' to shake her! But I knowed she didn't mean -nothin', so I just touches me hat an' swallows it. She's used to -orderin', Annie, an' ye mustn't mind her." - -"Well, I ain't used to takin' orders like that, an' what's more, I -won't! 'Have it done by five o'clock,' she says, an' it's half past two, -now. An' all them ruffles! I hate ruffles, an' I won't touch it after -the way she talked. Not if she goes down on her knees to me, I won't." - -"Aw, Annie," remonstrated Peter, "what's the use in kickin' up a fuss? -Miss Ethel's awful kind hearted when she thinks about it." - -"Kind hearted!" Annie sniffed. "I guess she can afford to be kind -hearted, havin' people wait on her from mornin' to night an' never doin' -a thing she doesn't want to do. I wish she had to iron once, an' she -could just see how she likes it." - -"She gave you a bran' new dress last week," reminded Nora. - -"Yes, an' why? 'Cause when I was dustin' her room she happened to be -tryin' it on an' it didn't fit, an' she threw it down on the floor an' -said: 'I won't wear that thing! You can have it, Annie.'" - -"The time you burned your hand with her chafing-dish she 'most cried -when she saw how blistered it was, an' wrapped it up herself, an' -brought you some stuff in a silver box to put on it." - -For a moment Annie showed signs of relenting, but as her glance fell -upon the dress again, she hardened. "She tipped the alcohol over me -herself an' she'd ought to be sorry. I'd be willin' to do her a favour, -but I _won't_ be ordered around. She just pokes it at me as if I was an -ironing machine. An' this the Fourth o' July, an' Mrs. Carter tellin' me -I could go out. She has enough dresses to last from now till she's gray, -an' I just won't touch it!" - -"You won't touch what?" asked Mrs. Carter, appearing in the doorway. She -glanced from the girl's angry face to the rumpled frock upon the floor. -They told their own story. "What's the meaning of this, Annie?" she -asked sharply. - -Annie looked sulky. She stared at the floor a moment without answering, -while Peter's and Nora's eyes anxiously scanned Mrs. Carter's face. -Finally she replied: - -"You said I could go out this afternoon, ma'am, an' just as I was -gettin' ready, Miss Ethel came in an' said I was to wash that dress -before five o'clock." - -"I am sorry about your afternoon," said Mrs. Carter. "Miss Ethel didn't -know about it, but you may go to-morrow afternoon instead." - -"I was wantin' to go to-day," said Annie. "I'm willin' enough to do me -own work, ma'am, but it isn't me place to wash." - -Mrs. Carter's mouth became a straight line. - -"Annie, I never allow my servants to dictate as to what is their work -and what is not. When I engage you, I expect you to do whatever you are -asked. This is a very easy place; you are allowed to go out a great -deal, and you have very little work to do. But when something extra -comes up outside your regular work, I expect you to do it willingly and -as a matter of course. Miss Ethel has been very kind to you; you can do -her a favour in return." - -"I wouldn't mind doin' it as a favour, but she just walks in an' orders -it as if it was me regular place to wash." - -"And I order it also," said Mrs. Carter. "You may wash that dress and -have it done by five o'clock, or else you may pack your trunk and go." -She turned with a firm tread and walked out of the room. - -Annie looked after her with flashing eyes. - -"She orders it too, does she? Well, I won't do it, an' I won't, an' I -_won't_!" She dropped down in a chair at one end of the table and hid -her head in her arms. - -Peter cast an anxious glance at Nora; he did not know how to deal with -Annie's case. Had she been an obstinate stable-boy, he would have taken -her out behind the barn and thrashed reason into her with a leather -strap. He awkwardly laid his hand on her shoulder. - -"Aw, Annie, wash the dress; there's a good girl. It won't take ye very -long, an' then we'll go down t' the beach to-night to see the fireworks. -Miss Ethel didn't mean nothin'. What's the use o' makin' trouble?" - -"It's no more my place to wash than it is Simpkins's," she sobbed. "Why -didn't she ask him to do it? I won't stay in a place like this where -they order you around like a dog. I'll pack me trunk, I will." - -Nora and Peter regarded each other helplessly. They furtively -sympathized with Annie, but they did not dare to do it openly, as -sympathy only fanned the flames, and they both knew that Mrs. Carter, -having pronounced her ultimatum, would stand by it. Annie must wash that -dress before five o'clock, or Annie must go. At the thought of her -going, Peter fetched a deep sigh, and two frowning lines appeared on his -brow. She had been there only four weeks, but Willowbrook would never -again be Willowbrook without her. Presently the silence was broken by -the sound of generous footsteps flapping across the back veranda, and -Ellen, the cook at Mr. Jasper's, appeared in the doorway. - -"Good afternoon to ye, Nora, an' I wants to borrow a drop o' vanilla. I -ardered it two days ago, an' that fool of a grocer's b'y----what's the -matter wit' Annie?" she asked, her good-natured laughing face taking on -a look of concern as she gazed at the tableau before her. - -Nora and Peter between them explained. Annie, meanwhile, paid no -attention to the recital of her wrongs; only her heaving shoulders were -eloquent. Ellen hearkened to the story with ready sympathy. - -"Oh, it's a shame, it is, an' on Fort' o' July! We all has our troubles -in this world." She sighed heavily and winked at Peter and Nora while -she pushed them toward the door. "Get out wit' ye, the two of yez, an' -lave her to me," she whispered. - -Ellen reached down and picked up the dress. "'Tis somethin' awful the -things people will be puttin' on ye, if ye give 'em the chance. 'Tis a -shame to ask any human bein' to wash a dress like that wit' all them -ruffles an' lace fixin's. I think it's bad enough to have to wash Mr. -Harry's shirts, but if he took to havin' lace set in 'em, I'd be leavin' -pretty quick. An' ye not trained to laundry work either! I don't see how -Miss Ethel had the nerve to ask it. She must be awful over-reachin'. -She'll be settin' ye to play the piano next for her to dance by." - -Annie raised a tear-stained face. - -"I could do it," she said sulkily. "I can wash as good as Kate; Miss -Ethel said I could. It's not the work I'm mindin' if she'd ask me -decent. But she just throws it at me with never so much as please." - -"I don't blame ye for leavin'; I would, too." Ellen suddenly had an -inspiration, and she plumped down in a chair at the opposite end of the -table. "I'm goin' to leave meself!" she announced. "I won't be put upon -either. An' what do ye think Mr. Jasper is after telephonin' out this -afternoon? He's bringin' company to dinner--three strange min I niver -set eyes on before--an' he's sint a fish home by Patrick, a blue fish -he's after catchin'. It's in the ice-box now an' we're to have it for -dinner, he says, an' I wit' me dinner all planned. I don't mind havin' -soup, an' roast, an' salad, an' dessert, but I _won't_ have soup, _an' -fish_, an' roast, an' salad, an' dessert. If there was as many to do the -work at our house as there is over here, I wouldn't say nothin', but -wit' only me an' George--an' him not so much as touchin' a thing but the -silver an' the glasses--it's too much, it is. George 'ud see me buried -under a mountain o' dishes before he'd lift a finger to help." - -Ellen paused with a pathetic snivel while she wiped her eyes on a corner -of her apron. Annie raised her head and regarded her sympathetically. - -"Soup, an' fish, an' roast, an' salad, an' dessert, an' three strange -min into the bargain, an' all the dishes to wash, an' the fish not even -cleaned. True it is that troubles niver come single; they're married an' -has children. Ivery siparate scale o' that blue fish did I take off -wit' me own hands, an' not a word o' thanks do I get. I slaves for those -two min till me fingers is worn to the bone, an' not a sign do they -give; but just let the meat be too done, or the bottles not cold, an' -then I hears quick enough! 'Tis the way wit' min; they're an ungrateful -set. Ye can work an' work till ye're like to drop, an' they swallows it -all an' niver blinks. It ud be different if there was a woman around. -I've often wished as Mr. Harry had a wife like Miss Ethel, so smilin' -an' pretty 't is a pleasure to watch her. Oh, an' I wouldn't mind -workin' a little extra now an' then for her--but five courses an' no one -but me to do the dishes! It's goin' I am. I'll give notice to-night." - -Ellen broke down and wept into her apron while Annie attempted some -feeble consolation. - -"I've worked there thirteen years!" Ellen sobbed. "Since before Mrs. -Jasper died, when Mr. Harry was only a b'y. 'Tis the only home I've -got, an' I don't want to leave." - -"Then what makes you?" Annie asked. - -"Because I won't be put upon--soup, an' fish, an' roast, an' salad, an' -dessert is too much to ask of any human bein'. The dishes won't be done -till ten o'clock, an' it's Fort' o' Ju-l-y-y." Ellen's voice trailed -into a wail. Her imagination was vivid; by this time she fully believed -in her wrongs. They cried in unison a few minutes, Ellen murmuring -brokenly: "Soup, an' fish, an' roast, an' salad, an' dessert, an' it's -all the home I've got. - -"You don't have company very often," said Annie consolingly. - -"That we don't!" cried Ellen. "An' the house is so lonesome an' shut up -'tis like a tomb to live in. If there was dancin' an' singin' an' -laughin' the way there is over here I'd be glad enough. Wit' Mr. Jasper -an' Mr. Harry so quiet an' frownin' an never sayin' a word--Oh, if I had -someone like Miss Ethel to do for 'tis willin' enough I'd be to iron -her dresses. That night she had her party an' I come over to help, an' -you an' Pete was dancin' in the kitchen to the music, an' after the -guests was served we had a table set out on the back veranda--'tis then -I was wishin' I lived in a place like this. An' Miss Ethel come out when -we was eatin' an' asked was we tired an' said thank you for sittin' up -so late, an' she was glad if we was havin' a good time, too." - -Annie sighed, and her eyes wandered somewhat guiltily to the dress on -the floor. - -"Mrs. Carter orders me around just as if I was a machine," she -reiterated, in a tone of self-defence. - -"An' it's orderin' around ye've got to learn to take in this world," -said Ellen. "If ye occasionally get a 'thank ye,' thrown in, ye can -think yourself lucky--it's more 'n I get. I've darned Mr. Harry's socks -for eleven years, an' never a word o' notice does he take--I'm doubtin' -he even knows they're darned. 'Tis a thankless world, Annie dear. -Thirteen years I've worked for the Jaspers, an' on top o' that to ask me -for soup, an' fish, an' roast, an' salad, an' dessert on a Fort' o' July -night!" - -Ellen showed signs of breaking down again and Annie hastily interposed. - -"Don't cry about it, Ellen; it's too bad, it is, but Mr. Jasper likely -didn't think what a lot o' trouble he was makin'. He ain't never washed -no dishes an' he don't know what it's like. I'll come over an' help you -do them." - -"But ye won't be here. Ye're goin' yerself," Ellen blubbered. - -Annie was silent. - -"Thirteen years an' 'tis the only home I've got." - -"Don't go, Ellen," Annie begged. - -"Soup, an' fish, an' roast----" - -"I'll stay if you will!" - -Ellen heaved a final shuddering sigh and wiped her eyes. - -"Ye'll have to hurry, Annie, if ye're goin' to get that dress done by -five o'clock. Come on!" she cried, jumping to her feet. "I'll help ye. -Ye take the waist and I'll take the skirt, an' we'll see which one gets -done first. It just needs a little rubbin' out an' we'll iron it damp." - -Five minutes later, Peter and Nora, who had been sitting on the back -steps, waiting patiently for Ellen's diplomacy to bear fruit, returned -to the laundry. They found Ellen at one tub and Annie at another--up to -her elbows in the soap suds, her cheeks still flushed, but a smile -beginning to break through. - -"Ellen's helpin' me," she said in rather sheepish explanation. - -"An' she's comin' over to wash the dishes for me to-night," Ellen chimed -in. "We're havin' soup, an' fish, an' roast, an'----" - -Peter clapped his hand over his mouth and Nora cast him a warning look. - -"You're goin' to the beach with Pete to see the fireworks, that's where -you're goin' to-night," she said. "I'll help Ellen with her dishes." - -"Thank ye, Nora," said Ellen. "'Tis a kind heart ye've got, an' that's -more 'n I can say for Mr. Jasper, for all I've worked for 'im thirteen -years. 'Tis soup, an' fish, an' roast, an' salad, an' dessert the man's -after wantin' for dinner to-night, an' no one but me to wash a kettle. -If it wasn't for Annie, I'd be leavin', I would." Ellen wrung the skirt -out and splashed it up and down in the rinsing water. "An' now while -this dress is dryin' ready to iron, I'll just run home an' stir up a bit -o' puddin' for dessert, if ye'll be lendin' me some vanilla, Nora dear. -That fool of a grocery b'y----" - -"Oh, take your vanilla an' get along wit' you! We've had all we wants o' -your soup an' your fish an' the rest o' your fixin's." - -Nora dived into the pantry after the bottle, while the attention of the -others was attracted by a gay laugh outside the window. Annie's face -clouded at the sound, and they all looked out. - -Miss Ethel was coming across the lawn on her way to the bay. Mr. Lane, -who was visiting at Willowbrook, strolled at her side, dressed in white -boating flannels with some oars over his shoulder. A little way behind -walked Mr. Harry, a second pair of oars over his shoulder, and his eyes -somewhat surlily bent on the ground. Miss Ethel, pretty and smiling in -her light summer gown, was talking vivaciously to Mr. Lane, apparently -having forgotten that Mr. Harry existed. - -"I'd show her pretty quick if I was Mr. Harry!" Ellen muttered -vindictively. - -Miss Ethel paused and shaded her eyes with her hand. - -"It's awfully sunny!" she complained. "I'm afraid I want a hat." She -glanced back over her shoulder. "Harry," she called, "run back and get -my hat. I think I left it on the front veranda, or maybe at the -tennis-court. We'll wait for you at the landing." - -For a moment Mr. Harry looked black at this peremptory dismissal; but he -bowed politely, and whirling about strode back to the house while Miss -Ethel and Mr. Lane went on laughing down the hill. - -"An' she never so much as said please!" whispered Annie. - -"I'll be darned if I'd do it," said Peter. - - - - -III - -THEIR INNOCENT DIVERSIONS - - -"We got three kids visitin' to our house, and there won't be nothin' -left o' Willowbrook by the time they goes away. Hold up, Trixy! What are -ye tryin' to do?" - -Peter paused to hook the line out from under Trixy's tail, and then -re-cocking his hat at a comfortable angle and crossing his legs, he -settled himself for conversation. Peter loved to talk and he loved an -audience; he was essentially a social animal. His listeners were two -brother coachmen and a bandy-legged young groom, who were waiting, like -himself, for "ladies' morning" to draw to its usual placid -termination--sandwiches and lemonade on the club veranda after a not too -heated putting contest on the first green. - -"Yes, we got three visitin' kids; with Master Bobby it makes four, and -I ain't drawed an easy breath since the mornin' they arrived. They keep -up such an everlastin' racket that the people in the house can't stand -them, an' we've had them in the stables most o' the time. Mrs. Brainard, -that's their mother, is Mr. Carter's sister, and I can tell ye she makes -herself to home. - -"That's her over there with the lavender dress and the parasol"--he -jerked his head in the direction of a gaily dressed group of ladies -trailing across the links in the direction of the first green. "She's -mournin' for her husband--light mournin', that is; he's dead two years." - -"She picked me the first day to look after the la-ads. 'Peter,' she -says, 'me dear boys are cr-razy to play in the stables, but I can't help -worryin' for fear they'll get under the horses' feet. I have perfect -confidence in you,' she says, 'and I'll put them under yer special -care. Just keep yer eye on the la-ads an' see that they don't get -hur-rt.' - -"'Thank ye, ma'am,' says I, flattered by the attention, I'll do the best -I can.' I hadn't made the acquaintance o' the little darlin's yet, or I -would 'a' chucked me job on the spot. - -"Master Augustus--he's the youngest--has gold curls an' blue eyes and a -smile as innocint as honey. He's the kind the ladies stops an' kisses, -and asks, 'Whose little boy is you?' At the first glance ye'd think to -see a couple o' wings sproutin' out behind, but when ye knowed him -intimately, ye'd look for the horns an' tail. I've pulled that little -divvil three times out o' the duck pond, and I've fished him out from -the grain chute with a boat hook. I couldn't tell ye the number o' trees -he's climbed after birds' eggs and got stuck in the top of; we keeps a -groom an' ladder on tap, so to speak. One afternoon I caught the four o' -them smokin' cigarettes made o' dried corn silk up in the hay loft as -comfortable as ye please--'tis many a stable-boy as has been bounced for -less. Between them they finished up the dope the vet'rinary surgeon left -when Blue Gipsy had the heaves, thinkin' it was whisky--an' serves them -right, I say. I didn't tell on 'em, though, when the doctor asked what I -thought the trouble was; I said I guessed it was green apples. - -"But them's only the minor divarsions that occupy their leisure; they're -nothin' to the things they think of when they really get down to -business. The first thing they done was to pretend the victoria was a -pirate ship; an' they scratched the paint all up a-tryin' to board her. -Joe turned 'em out o' doors to play, an' they dug up the whole o' the -strawberry bed huntin' for hidden treasure. Their next move was to take -off their shoes an' stockin's, turn their clothes wrong side out, an' -dirty up their faces with huckleberry juice--ye would have sworn they -was a lot o' jabberin' Dagoes. They went beggin' in all the houses o' -the neighbourhood, includin' Willowbrook, an' Nora never knew them an' -give them some cold potatoes. - -"One day last week they nearly broke their blame young necks slidin' -down the waggon-shed roof on a greased tea-tray. There's a pile o' straw -at the bottom that kind of acted as a buffer, but Master Augustus didn't -steer straight an' went over the edge. 'Twas only a drop o' four feet, -but he come up lookin' damaged. - -"That ain't the worst though. Last Sunday afternoon they frightened the -cow into hysterics playin' she was a bull, an' they was matydoors or -torydoors, or whatever ye call them. They stuck pins into her with paper -windmills on the end, and she ain't give more 'n six quarts at any -milkin' since. I was mad, I was, an' I marched 'em to the house an' tole -their mother. - -"'It grieves me,' she says, 'to think that me boys should be so -troublesome; but they didn't mean to be cruel to the poor dumb brute. -They're spirited la-ads,' she says, 'an' their imaginations run away wid -them. What they needs is intilligent direction. Ye should try,' she -says, 'to enter into the spirit o' their innocint divarsions; an' when -ye see them doin' somethin' dangerous, gintly turn their thoughts into -another channel. Their grattytood,' she says, 'will pay ye for yer -trouble.' - -"'Wery well, ma'am,' says I, not too enthusiastic, 'I'll do the best I -can,' and I bows meself out. I've been superintendin' their innocint -divarsions ever since, and if there's any one as wants the job, I'll -turn it over to him quick." - -Peter paused to back his horses farther into the shade; then having -climbed down and taken a drink at a near-by hydrant, he resumed his seat -and the conversation. - -"But ye should have seen them this mornin' when I drove off! They was a -sight if there ever was one. Joe's away with Mr. Carter and I'm takin' -charge for the day. When I went into the carriage-house to give Billy -orders about hitchin' up, what should I find but them precious little -lambkins gambolin' around in stri-ped bathin' trunks, an' not another -stitch. They was further engaged in paintin' their skins where the -trunks left off--an' that was the most o' them--with a copper colour -foundation and a trimmin' o' black stripes. - -"'Holy Saint Patrick!' says I. 'What the divvil are ye up to now?' - -"'Whoop!' says Master Bobby. 'We'll scalp ye and eat yer heart. We're -Comanche braves,' he says, 'an' we're gettin' ready for the war-path.' - -"'Ye look more like zebras,' says I, 'escaped from a menagerie.' - -"'Wait till we get our feathers on,' he says, 'an' Pete,' he adds, 'will -you do me back? There's a place in the middle that I can't reach.' - -"Wid that he turns a pink an' white surface a yawnin' for decoration, -an' presses a can o' axle grease in me hands. And I'll be darned if them -young imps hadn't covered their skins with axle grease and red brass -polish, an' for variety, a touch o' bluing they'd got off Nora in the -kitchen. An' they smelt--Gee! they smelt like a triple extract harness -shop. I tole them I thought they'd be havin' trouble when they was ready -to return to the haunts o' the pale-face; but Master Bobby said their -clothes would cover it up. - -"I done the job. I don't set up to be a mural artist, and I ain't -braggin', but I will say as Master Bobby's back beat any signboard ye -ever see when I finished the decoratin'. I fastened some chicken -feathers in their hair, and I hunted out some tomahawks in the lumber -room, an' they let out a war-whoop that raised the roof, an' scalped me -out o' grattytood. - -"'Now see here,' says I to Master Bobby, 'in return for helpin' along -yer innocint amusements, will ye promise to do yer scalpin' in the -paddock, an' not come near the stables? 'Cause me floor is clean,' I -says, 'and I don't want no blood spattered on it. 'Tis hard to wash up,' -I says. I was, ye'll observe, gintly turnin' their thoughts into another -channel, like their mother recommended. An' they promised sweet as -cherubs. She was right; they're spirited la-ads, an' they won't be -driven. 'Tis best to use diplomacy. - -"I left them crawlin' on all fours through the bushes by the duck pond, -shootin' arrers in the air as innocint as ye please. I dunno, though, -how long 'twill last. I tole Billy to keep an eye on them, and I s'pose -when I get back, I'll find his head decoratin' the hitchin'-post an' his -hair danglin' from their belts." - -A movement of farewell on the club veranda brought the men back to their -official selves. Peter straightened his hat, stiffened his back, and -gathered up the reins. - -"So long, Mike," he remarked as he backed into the driveway. "I'll see -ye to-morrow at the Daughters o' the Revolution; and if ye hear of -anyone," he added, "as is wantin' a combination coachman an' first class -nursemaid, give them my address. I'm lookin' for an easier place." - -"Peter," said Mrs. Carter, as they trotted out of the club-house gateway -and swung on to the smooth macadam of the homeward road, "I meant to ask -you what the children were doing this morning. Have they been amusing -themselves?" - -"Yes, they've been amusin' themselves. They was playin' Indian, ma'am, -with chicken feathers in their heads." He wisely suppressed the -remainder of the costume. "I found them some tomahawks in the lumber -room, an' the last I see o' them they was in the paddock scalpin' each -other as happy as ye please." - -"Those delicious boys!" murmured their mother. "I never know what they -will think of next. It is such a relief to get them into the country, -where they can have plenty of room to play and I can be sure they are -not in mischief. They are so exuberant, that when we are stopping in a -summer hotel I am always uneasy for fear they may disturb the guests." - -The carriage had turned into the Willowbrook grounds, and was decorously -rolling along between the smooth green lawns bordered by coloured -foliage, the two ladies reclining against the cushions in placid -contemplation of the summer noonday, when suddenly an ebullition of -shouting and crying burst out across the shrubbery in the direction of -the stables. It was not the mere joyous effervescence of animal spirits -that had been gladdening Willowbrook for the past two weeks. There was -an unmistakable note of alarm, a hoarser undertone, as of men joining in -the tocsin. Peter pulled the horses sharply to their haunches and -cocked his head to listen, while the ladies leaned forward in a flutter -of dismay. - -"Something has happened to my precious boys! Drive on quick, Peter," -Mrs. Brainard gasped. - -Peter used his whip and they approached the house at a gallop. The -trouble was evident by now. Heavy clouds of smoke were curling up from -among the willow trees while the cry of "Fire! Fire!" filled the air. - -"Thank heaven it ain't the stables!" ejaculated Peter, as his eye -anxiously studied the direction. "'Tis the waggon-shed--an' the -buckboard's in it an' all the farmin' tools." - -People were running from every side. Two men from Jasper Place came -puffing through the hole in the hedge, dragging a garden hose behind -them, while the house servants, bare-headed and excited, swarmed out -from the back veranda. - -"Annie! Annie!" called Mrs. Carter as the panting horses were dragged to -a standstill, "turn on the fire alarm. Go to the telephone and call the -engine house." - -"Simpkins has done it, ma'am," called Annie over her shoulder, as she -hurried on. "Ow! What's that?" she added with a scream of astonished -terror, as a red and black striped figure, with a row of ragged feathers -waving in a fringe about its ears, burst from the shrubbery and butted -plump against her. - -"Bobby!" gasped his mother, as after a moment of shocked hesitation she -recognized her son. Bobby waved his arms and set up a howl. An -expression of terror was plainly visible struggling through the -war-paint. - -"Pete, Billy, Patrick! Quick! Quick! We can't untie him and he's -burning! We didn't mean to burn him," he added quickly. "It's an -accident." - -"Burn what?" cried Mrs. Carter. - -"Augustus," Bobby sobbed. - -And to the horror-stricken group was borne a shrill falsetto wail: -"Help! H-e-l-p! They're burning me at the s-t-a-k-e!"--a wail apparently -of mortal anguish, though an unexcited listener would have detected in -the tones more of anger than of pain. - -Mrs. Brainard, with a frenzied shriek, threw away her lavender parasol -and dashed in the direction of the sounds. Peter jumped from the box and -overtook her. He was first upon the spot. The waggon-shed roof was a -blazing mass; the straw pile beneath it was sending up a stifling cloud -of blue smoke, and the dry surrounding grass was crackling in a swiftly -widening circle. But in the centre of the conflagration there still -remained a little oasis of green, where a young willow sapling rose -defiantly from the flames. And as the smoke blew momentarily to one -side, the writhing figure of Augustus came to view lashed firmly to the -tree trunk, his hands above his head. With the arrival of spectators he -finished struggling and assumed an expression of stoicism that would -have done credit to a true Comanche. - -"My boy! My boy!" shrieked Mrs. Brainard, running forward with -outstretched arms, as the smoke again closed around him. - -Peter caught her. "Stand back, ma'am. For heaven's sake, stand back! -Ye'll ketch yer dress. He ain't hurt none; the fire ain't reached him. -I'll save him," and whipping out his knife, Peter dashed into the smoke. -He returned three minutes later, a mass of stripes and mingled grease -kicking in his arms. - -Mrs. Brainard, who had closed her eyes preparing to faint, opened them -again and looked at Augustus. He was a muddy copper colour with here and -there a vivid touch of blue, and he exuded a peculiarly blent odour of -brass polish and smoke. - -"Is--is he dead?" she gasped. - -"He's quite lively, ma'am," said Peter, grimly struggling to hold him. - -She opened her arms with a sob of relief, and received the boy, grease -and smoke and all; while the three remaining braves modestly tried to -efface themselves. - -"Robert," said Mrs. Carter, laying a detaining hand on her son's -tri-coloured shoulder, "what is the meaning of this outrageous affair?" - -Bobby dug his eyes with his greasy fists and whimpered. - -"We just tied him to the stake and pretended to burn him. And then we -sat down to smoke a pipe of peace, and I guess maybe the straw caught -fire." - -"It did--apparently," said his mother; her tone carried a suggestion of -worse to come. - -Peter, having hastily organized a fire brigade, succeeded in saving the -buckboard and a few of the farming tools, but the building itself was -beyond salvation. The wood was dry and thoroughly seasoned, and the -feeble stream of water from the garden hose served to increase the smoke -rather than to lessen the flames. The men finally fell back in a -panting circle and watched it burn. - -"Gee!" ejaculated Peter, "I'm glad it was the waggon-shed. It might have -been the stables." - -"Or the house," added Mrs. Carter. - -"Or Augustus!" breathed Mrs. Brainard. - -The roof fell in with a crash, and the flames leaped up to surround it. -A mild cheer broke from the spectators; since there was nothing more to -be done, they might as well enjoy the bonfire. The cheer was echoed by -an answering shout at the end of the avenue, and a moment later the Sea -Garth volunteer hook and ladder company dashed into sight, drawn by two -foam-covered horses, the firemen still struggling into belated uniforms. - -They came to a stand; half a dozen men tore off the nearest ladder and -dragged it to the burning building. There, they hesitated dubiously. It -was clearly an impossible feat to lean a thirty-foot ladder against a -one-story waggon-shed whose roof had fallen in. Their chief, an -impressive figure in a scarlet shirt and a rubber helmet, advanced to -take command. He grasped the painful situation, and for a moment he -looked dashed. The next moment, however, he had regained his poise, and -announced, in a tone of triumph; "We'll save the stables!" - -Mrs. Carter stepped forward with a voice of protest. - -"Oh, no, I beg of you! It isn't necessary. The sparks are flying in the -other direction. My own men have fortunately been able to cope with the -fire, and while I am very much obliged for your trouble, there is no -necessity for further aid." - -"Madam," said the chief, "the wind is likely to change at any moment, -and a single spark falling on that shingle roof would sweep away every -building on the place. I am sorry to be disobliging, but it is my duty -to protect your property." He waved her aside and issued his orders. For -the first time in her life Mrs. Carter found that she was not master on -her own place. - -Five minutes later half a dozen ladders were resting against the main -edifice of the stables, while the bucket brigade was happily splashing -the contents of the duck pond over the shingle roof. - -This precautionary measure was barely under way, when a second shouting -and clanging of bells announced the approach of the Sea Garth Volunteer -Hose Company No. 1. They did not possess horses and their progress had -of necessity been slower. Accompanied by an excited escort of barefooted -boys, they swept like a tidal wave across shaven lawns and flowered -borders. - -"Keep them back! Keep them back!" wailed Mrs. Carter, in a sudden access -of helplessness. "Peter, William, stop them! Thank them and send them -home." She accosted the hook and ladder chief. "Tell them it's all over. -Tell them that you yourself have already done everything that's -necessary." - -"Sorry, Mrs. Carter, but it's impossible. There hasn't been a fire in -this town for the last three months, and then it was only a false alarm. -They're sore enough as it is because we got here first. A little water -won't hurt anything; we're in need of rain. You go in the house, Mrs. -Carter, and trust to me. I won't let them do any more damage than -necessary." - -The hose company bore down upon the scene of confusion that surrounded -the wrecked waggon-shed with an air of pleased expectancy. Their faces -fell as they caught sight of the pitiable size of the fire; but the new -chief, with quickly reviving cheerfulness, usurped dictatorship, and -soon had a generous stream of water playing upon the embers. - -Mrs. Carter, with a last plaintive appeal to Peter to get rid of them, -resumed her natural aloofness; and she and Mrs. Brainard trailed their -smoke-grimed splendour toward the house, driving the vanquished braves -before them. - -When, finally, the last spark was irretrievably dead, the duck pond was -nearly dry and everything else was wet, the firemen reloaded their -ladders and hose, their buckets and rubber helmets, and noisily trundled -away. The Willowbrook contingent sat down and mopped their grimy brows. - -"Will you look at my flower-beds?" mourned Tom. "Walked right over 'em, -they did." - -"An' will ye look at the clothes on the line?" cried Nora. "They walked -slap through them wid their dir-rty hands." - -"Go and look at the carriage-house floor," Peter growled. "They turned a -three-inch stream o' water in at the front door; it looks as if the -flood o' Arrerat had struck us. If I ever ketch that lobster of a fire -chief out alone, I'll teach 'im 'is dooty, I will." He paused to examine -his person. "Gee! but I blistered me hands." He carried the examination -further. "An' these is me best pants," he muttered. "The next time I -helps along their innocint divarsions, I'll get me life insured." - - - - -IV - -DIGNITY AND THE ELEPHANT - - -"Come in!" - -Peter opened the library door and advanced with awkward hesitation. -Behind his respectfully blank expression there was visible a touch of -anxiety; he was not clear in his own mind as to the reason for this -peremptory summons to the house. It might mean that he was to be -rewarded for having saved Master Augustus's life and the contents of the -waggon-shed; it might mean that he was to be censured for any one of a -dozen innocent and unpremeditated faults. But Mr. Carter's expression as -he turned from the writing table banished all doubt as to the meaning of -the interview. His bearing contained no suggestion of honourable mention -to come. - -"Close the door," he said dryly. - -Peter closed the door and stood at attention, grasping with nervous -fingers the brim of his hat. Mr. Carter allowed a painful silence to -follow while he sat frowning down at a newspaper spread on the table -before him. Peter, having studied his master's face, lowered his -troubled eyes to the headlines of the paper: - - - COMANCHE BRAVES ON THE WAR PATH - - FIRE THREATENS DESTRUCTION - TO JEROME B. CARTER'S ESTATE - - -"This has been a very shocking affair," Mr. Carter began, in a tone of -impressive emphasis. "The damage, fortunately, was slight, but the -principle remains the same as if every building on the place had burned. -The blame on the surface rests with the boys who started the fire; and," -he added, with a touch of grimness, "they have been fittingly punished. -But I find, upon looking into the matter, that the blame does not stop -with them. I have here a copy of a New York evening paper of -an--uh--sensational order, giving a grossly exaggerated account of the -incident. There is one particular, however, in regard to which they do -not exaggerate--exaggeration being impossible--and that is in their -description of the outrageous apparel which my son and my nephews were -wearing at the time." - -Mr. Carter adjusted his glasses and picked up the paper, his frown -darkening as he glanced rapidly down the column. A facetious young -reporter had made the best of a good story. - -"'Volunteer firemen--Gallant behaviour of Chief McDougal--Threatened -tragedy--H'm----" His eye lighted on the offending paragraph, and he -settled himself to read. - -"'Conspicuous among those present were the authors of the conflagration, -Master Robert Carter, twelve-year-old son of Jerome B. Carter, and his -three cousins, sons of John D. Brainard, of Philadelphia. Whatever may -be said of Philadelphians in general, there is nothing slow about the -Brainard boys. In the character of Comanche braves the four were clothed -in simple but effective costumes of black and red war-paint. The paint, -we are informed, was composed of axle grease and brass polish, and had -been artistically laid on by one Peter Malone, who occupies the position -of head groom in the Carter stables. Young Malone has missed his -calling. His talents point to the field of decorative art.'" - -A fleeting grin swept over Peter's face. It struck him, for the -hundredth time, that there was a singular absence of a sense of humour -in the Carter family. But he quickly recomposed his features. Mr. Carter -had laid the paper down again, and was waiting. Peter glanced dubiously -about the room, and finally ventured in a tone of conciliation: - -"It weren't so shockin' as the paper made out, sir. They was wearin' -stri-ped bathin' trunks and a row o' chicken feathers in addition to the -grease." - -Mr. Carter waved the remark aside as irrelevant. - -"That has nothing to do with the point. The question which I am -discussing is the fact that you painted my son with axle grease. I am -not only shocked, but astonished. I have always entertained the highest -opinion of your sense of propriety and fitness. I should have believed -this story a pure fabrication on the part of an unprincipled reporter, -had I not heard it corroborated from Master Bobby's own lips. Before -passing judgment it is only right that I hear your version of the -affair. What have you to say?" - -Peter shifted his weight uneasily. An invitation to tell a story rarely -found him wanting, but he liked to feel that his audience was with him, -and in the present instance Mr. Carter's manner was not surcharged with -sympathy. - -"Well, sir," he began, with an apologetic cough, "If ye'll excuse me -mentionin' it, them three Brainard boys is young limbs o' Satan, every -one o' them. Their badness, so to speak, is catchin', an' Master Bobby's -got it. 'Tis demoralizin', sir, to have them about; I'm losin' me own -sense o' right an' wrong." - -"Very well," said Mr. Carter, impatiently, "what I want to hear about is -this Indian business." - -"Yes, sir, I'm comin' to it, sir. Yesterday mornin' I got an order early -to drive Mrs. Carter to the country club, an' when I went into the -carriage-house to see about hitchin' up, what should I find but them -four little div----" - -Peter caught Mr. Carter's eye, and hastily altered his sentence. - -"I found the four young gentlemen, sir, dressed in stri-ped bathin' -trunks, engaged in paintin' their skins with axle grease ready for the -war-path. They'd got two cans on before I seen 'em, and all I done was -Master Bobby's back an' Master Wallace's legs. I mistrusted it wouldn't -come off, sir, and I told 'em as much; but they was already so nearly -covered that it seemed a pity to spoil the sport. Ye see, I was mindin' -what their mother said about takin' a sympathetic interest in their -innocint divarsions." - -"And this struck you as an innocent diversion?" - -"Comparatively speakin', sir. None o' their divarsions strikes me as -fittin' for a Sunday-school." - -"Go on," said Mr. Carter, sharply. - -Peter fumbled with his hat. He was finding his employer's mood a trifle -difficult. - -"It weren't my fault about the fire, sir. When I drove off they was -playin' in the paddock as innocint as ye please. How should I know that -as soon as me back was turned they'd be takin' it into their heads to -burn Master Augustus at the stake? It ain't no ordinary intilligence, -sir, that can keep up wid them. And as for the damage, there wouldn't -'a' been none, aside from losin' the waggon-shed, if it weren't for that -meddlin' fire department. Ye see for yerself the mess they made." - -He came to a sudden pause, and then added with an air of reviving -cheerfulness: - -"'T was bad, sir, but it might have been worse. We saved the buckboard, -an' we saved the garden tools, to say nothin' o' Master Augustus." - -Mr. Carter grunted slightly, and a silence followed, during which Peter -glanced tentatively toward the door; but as his companion gave no sign -that the interview was at an end, he waited. Mr. Carter's eye had -meanwhile travelled back to the paper, and his frown was gathering anew. -He finally faced the groom with the deliberative air of a counsellor -summing up a case. - -"And you think it consonant with the dignity of my position that a New -York paper should be able to print such a statement as that in regard to -my son?" - -Peter smiled dubiously and mopped his brow, but as no politic answer -occurred to him, he continued silent. - -"There is another matter which I wish to speak of," added Mr. Carter, -with a fresh assumption of sternness. "I am informed that you called the -boys, in their presence," he paused, as though it were painful for him -to repeat such malodorous words--"_damned little devils!_ Is that so?" - -Peter sighed heavily. - -"I don't know, sir. I might 'a' said it without thinkin'. I was excited -when I see the roof a blazin' and I may have spoke me mind." - -"Are you not aware, Peter, that such language should never, under any -circumstances, be used in Master Bobby's presence?" - -"Yes, sir, but if ye'll pardon the liberty, sir, there's times when the -Angel Gabriel himself would swear in Master Bobby's presence." - -"That will do, Peter. I won't bandy words with you any further; but I -wish this to be a warning. You are now head groom--I was even -considering, as you know well, the advisability of advancing you still -further. Whether or not I do so will depend upon yourself. I regret to -say that this episode has shaken my confidence." - -There was a sudden flaring of anger in Peter's eyes. He recalled the -long years of honest service he had given Mr. Carter, a service in which -his employer's interest had always been his own; and his Irish sense of -justice rebelled. It was on his tongue to say: "I've worked ten years at -Willowbrook, and I've always done my best. If my best is not good -enough, you'll have to look for another man. Good evening, sir." - -But he caught the words before they were spoken. Since Annie had come to -Willowbrook, Peter's outlook on life had changed. If a secret dream -concerning himself and her and the coachman's cottage were ever to come -true, he must swallow his pride and practise wisdom. His mouth took a -straighter line, and he listened to the remainder of his master's homily -with his eyes bent sulkily on the floor. - -"Had it been one of the other grooms who was guilty of using such -language before my son, and of committing such an--er--unpardonable -breach of decorum as to paint him with axle grease, I should have -discharged the man on the spot. Your past record has saved you, but I -warn you that it will not save you a second time. In future, I shall -expect you to set an example to the under stablemen. You never find me -forgetting the dignity of my position; let me see that you remember the -dignity of yours. You may go now." - -Mr. Carter dismissed him with a nod, and turned back to the desk. - -Annie was waiting in the kitchen to hear the history of the interview. -Peter stalked through the room without a word, his face set in ominous -lines. She followed him to the back veranda, and caught him by the coat -lapel. - -"What's the matter, Petey? What are you mad at? Didn't he thank you for -savin' the things?" - -"Thank nothin'," Peter growled. "Do the Carters ever thank you? All the -blame is fixed on me for the things them little divvels do--_damn_ -little divvels--that's what they are. 'An' is it fittin',' says he, -'that ye should use such language before Master Bobby?' Lor'! I wish he -could hear the language Master Bobby used before me the time he fell -into Trixy's manger. I'd like to meet Mr. Carter in the open once, as -man to man. I'd knock him out in the first round with me right hand tied -behind me." - -Peter was clearly fighting mad. - -"I'd like to get a whack at that reporter what wrote that paper. Young -Malone has missed his callin', has he? I'd show him where young Malone's -talents lie; I'd knock him into the middle o' next week. 'Gallant work -o' Chief McDougal.' Bloomin' lobster in a rubber helmet. I'll teach him -his dooty if I ever ketch him out alone. It was me as saved the -buckboard an' all the tools, an' Master Augustus in the bargain--wish -I'd let him burn, I do. 'An',' says Mr. Carter, 'do ye think it -consonant wid the dignity o' me position,' he says, 'that me son should -be painted with axle grease--me--the Honourable Jerome B. Carter, -Esquire?' His dignity! Take away his money an' his dignity, an' there -wouldn't be enough of him left to fill a half-pint measure. I'll get it -back at him; you see if I don't. I risks me life and I burns me best -pants, an' that's all the thanks I get!" - - -A week had passed over Willowbrook. The charred ruins of the waggon-shed -had been carted to the barnyard; the Comanche braves had become white -again--though in the course of it they had lost a layer of skin--and -the subject of axle grease and brass polish had been allowed to fade -into the past. Mr. Carter, having once eased his mind, had banished all -rancour from his thoughts. Being a lawyer, with influence in high -places, he had received an unexpectedly adequate insurance, and he was -beginning to regard the matter as a funny after-dinner story. But Peter -persisted in being sulky. Though his blistered hands were healed, his -wounded feelings were still sore. As he drove his employer to and from -the train, he no longer permitted himself the usual friendly chatter; -his answers to all queries were respectful but not cordial. Peter was -steadfastly determined to keep Mr. Carter in his place. Meanwhile, he -was looking longingly for the chance to "get it back." And suddenly the -chance presented itself--fairly walked into his hands--a revenge of such -thorough-going appropriateness that Peter would have held himself a fool -to let it slip. - -The yearly circus had arrived--the Nevin Brothers' Company of Trick -Animals and Acrobats--and every billboard in the village was blazing -with pictures of Rajah, the largest elephant in captivity. The Nevin -Brothers confined themselves to one-night stands. On the day of the -performance, Peter, having driven Mr. Carter to the station, stopped on -his way home at Scanlan's to have the shoe tightened on Trixy's off hind -foot. The shop was just around the corner from the vacant lot where the -tents were going up, and while he was waiting, Peter strolled across to -watch. - -To his surprise and gratification he discovered that the elephant -trainer was a boyhood friend. Arm in arm with this distinguished person, -he passed by the curious crowd of onlookers into the animal tent for a -private view of Rajah. Once inside, and out of sight, it transpired that -his friend would be obliged if Peter could lend him a dollar. Peter -fortunately had only fifty cents about him; but the friend accepted -this, with the murmured apology that the boss was slow in forwarding -their wages. He more than paid the debt, however, by presenting Peter -with a pass for himself and "lady," and Peter drove home in a pleasant -glow of pride and expectation. - -He submitted the pass to Annie, and drove on to the stables, casually -informing the groom who helped him unhitch that he had gone to school -with Rajah's trainer, and wished he had a dollar for every time he'd -licked him. - -Toward seven o'clock that evening, as Peter was happily changing from -plum-coloured livery into checked town clothes, a telephone call came -out from the house, ordering the waggonette and the runabout. "Yes, sir, -in fifteen minutes, sir," said Peter into the mouthpiece, but what he -added to the stable boy would scarcely have been fit for Master Bobby's -presence. He tumbled back into his official clothes, and hurried to the -kitchen to break the news to Annie. - -"It's all up with us," said Peter gloomily. "They've ordered out the two -rigs, and both Billy an' me has to go--if it had only been ten minutes -earlier they'd uv caught Joe before he got off." - -"'T is a pity, it is, an' you with the lovely pass!" she mourned. - -"Why the dickens should they take it into their heads to go drivin' -around the country at this time o' night?" he growled. - -"They're goin' to the circus themselves!" said Annie. "Miss Ethel's -after havin' a dinner party; I was helpin' Simpkins pass the things, and -I heard them plannin' it. The whole crowd's goin'--all but Mrs. Carter; -she don't like the smell o' the animals. But Mr. Carter's goin' and all -four boys--Master Augustus was in bed an' they got him up an' dressed -him. They're laughin' an' carryin' on till you'd think they was crazy. -Mr. Harry Jasper pretended he was a polar bear, an' was eatin' Master -Augustus up." - -"Mr. Carter's goin'?" asked Peter, with a show of incredulity. "An' does -he think it consonant wid the dignity o' his position to be attendin' -circuses? I wouldn't 'a' believed it of him!" - -"He's goin' to help chaperon 'em." - -"I'm glad it ain't for pleasure. I'd hate to think o' the Honourable -Jerome B. Carter descendin' so low." - -"I'm to serve supper to 'em when they come home, an' I'll have somethin' -waitin' for you on the back stoop, Pete," she called after him as he -turned away. - -Peter and Billy deposited their passengers at the entrance of the main -tent, and withdrew to hitch the horses to the fence railing. A number of -miscellaneous vehicles were drawn up around them--mud-spattered farmers' -waggons, livery "buggies"--but private carriages with liveried coachmen -were conspicuously lacking. Peter could not, accordingly, while away the -tedium of waiting with the usual pleasant gossip; as for opening a -conversation with Billy, he would as soon have thought of opening one -with the nearest hitching-post. Billy's ideas were on a par with Billy's -sparring, and in either case it was a waste of breath to bother with -him. - -Peter sat for a time watching the crowd push about the entrance, the -pass burning in his pocket. Then he climbed down, examined the harness, -patted the horses, and glanced wistfully toward the flaming torches at -either side of the door. - -"Say, Bill," he remarked in an offhand tone, "you stay here and watch -these horses till I come back. I'm just goin' to step in an' see me -friend the elephant trainer a minute. Sit on the lap robes, and keep yer -eye on the whips; there's likely to be a lot o' sneak thieves around." -He started off, and then paused to add, "If ye leaves them horses, I'll -come back an' give ye the worst tannin' ye ever had in yer life." - -He presented his pass and was admitted. The show had not begun. A couple -of clowns were throwing sawdust at each other in the ring, but this was -palpably a mere overture to keep the audience in a pleasant frame of -mind until the grand opening march of all the animals and all the -players--advertised to take place promptly at eight, but already twenty -minutes overdue. Peter, aware that it would not be wise to let his -master see him, made himself as inconspicuous as possible. Hidden behind -the broad back of a German saloon-keeper, he drifted with the crowd into -the side tent, where the animals were kept. - -Here, vociferous showmen were urging a hesitating public to enter the -side-shows, containing the cream of the exhibit, and only ten cents -extra. Vendors of peanuts and popcorn and all-day-suckers were adding to -the babel, while the chatter of monkeys and the surly grumbling of a big -lion formed an intoxicating undertone. - -Across the tent, gathered in a laughing group about the elephant, Peter -caught sight of the Willowbrook party--the ladies in fluffy, light -gowns and opera coats, the gentlemen in immaculate evening clothes. They -were conspicuously out of their element, but were having a very good -time. The bystanders had left them in a group apart, and were granting -them as much attention as Rajah himself. The elephant, in scarlet and -gold trappings, with a canopied platform on his back, was accepting -popcorn balls from Master Augustus's hand, and Master Augustus was -squealing his delight. Above the other noises Peter could hear his -former schoolmate declaiming in impressive tones: - -"Fourteen years old, and the largest elephant in captivity. Weighs over -eight thousand pounds, and eats five tons of hay a month. He measures -nine feet to the shoulders, and ain't got his full growth yet. Step up -the ladder, ladies and gentlemen, and get a bird's-eye view from the -top. Don't be bashful; there's not the slightest danger." - -Mr. Harry Jasper and Master Bobby accepted the invitation. They mounted -the somewhat shaky flight of steps, sat for a moment on the red velvet -seat, and with a debonair bow to the laughing onlookers, descended -safely to the ground. They then urged Mr. Carter up, but he emphatically -refused; his dignity, it was clear, could not stand the strain. - -"Step up, sir," the showman insisted. "You can't get any idea of his -size from the ground. There's not the slightest danger. He's as playful -as a kitten when he's feeling well." - -Miss Ethel and one of the young men pushed Mr. Carter forward; and -finally, with a fatuous smile of condescension, he gave his overcoat to -Master Bobby to hold, his walking-stick to Master Augustus, and having -settled his silk hat firmly on his head, he began climbing with careful -deliberation. - -Peter, hidden in the crowd, fingering in his pocket the dollar he had -intended to spend, suddenly had an infernal prompting. His revenge -spread itself before him in tempting array. For one sane moment he -struggled with the thought, but his unconquerable sense of humour -overthrew all hesitation. He slipped around behind Rajah and beckoned to -the trainer. All eyes were fixed upon Mr. Carter's shining hat as it -slowly rose above the level of the crowd. The two men held a hurried -consultation in a whisper; the bill inconspicuously changed hands, and -Peter, unobserved, sank into the crowd again. The trainer issued a brief -order to one of the bandmen and resumed his position at Rajah's head. - -Mr. Carter had by this time gained the top, and with one foot on the -platform and the other on the upper round of the ladder was approvingly -taking his bird's-eye view, with murmured exclamations to those below. - -"Stupendous! He must measure six feet across--and not reached his full -growth! A wonderful specimen--really wonderful." - -Rajah suddenly transferred his weight from one side to the other, and -the ladder shook unsteadily. Mr. Carter, with an apprehensive glance at -the ground, prepared to descend; but the keeper shouted in a tone of -evident alarm: - -"Take your foot off the ladder, sir! Sit down. For heaven's sake, sit -down!" - -The ladder wavered under his feet, and Mr. Carter waited for no -explanations. With a frenzied grasp at the red and gold trappings he sat -down, and the ladder fell with a thud, leaving him marooned on Rajah's -back. On the instant the band struck into "Yankee Doodle," and Rajah, -with a toss of his head and an excited shake of his whole frame, fell -into a ponderous two-step. - -"Stop him! Hold him! The ladder--bring the ladder!" shouted Mr. Carter. -His voice was drowned in the blare of trumpets. - -Without giving ear to further orders, the elephant plunged toward the -opening between the two tents and danced into the ring at the head of a -long line of gilded waggons and gaudy floats. The grand opening march -of all the players and all the animals had begun. - -Peter looked at the Willowbrook party. They were leaning on each other's -shoulders, weak with laughter. He took one glance into the ring, where -Mr. Carter's aristocratic profile was rising and falling in jerky -harmony with the music. And in the shadow of the lion cage Peter -collapsed; he rocked back and forth, hugging himself in an ecstasy of -mirth. "Gee! Oh, gee!" he gasped. "Will ye look at the dignity of his -position now?" In one perfect, soul-satisfying moment past slights were -blotted out, and those booked for the future were forgiven. - -Rajah completed the circuit and two-stepped back into the animal tent -drunk with glory. Half a dozen hands held the ladder while Mr. Carter, -white with rage, descended to the ground. The language which he used to -the keepers, Peter noted with concern, should never have been spoken in -Master Bobby's presence. - -The elephant trainer waited patiently until the gentleman stopped for -breath, then he took off his hat and suggested in a tone of deprecation: - -"Beg your pardon, sir, but the price for leading the grand march is -fifty cents at the evening performance." - -"I'll have you arrested--I'll swear out an injunction and stop the whole -show!" thundered Mr. Carter, as he stalked toward the entrance. - -Peter, coming to a sudden appreciation of his own peril, slipped out -behind him. He ran smack into Billy who was hovering about the door. - -"So I caught ye," hissed Peter. "Get back to them horses as fast as ye -can," and he started on a run, shoving Billy before him. Mr. Carter, -fortunately not knowing where to find the carriages, was blundering -around on the other side. - -"What's yer hurry?" gasped Billy. - -"Get up and shut up," said Peter sententiously, as he shot him toward -the waggonette. "An' ye can thank the saints for a whole skin. We ain't -neither of us left our seats to-night--d'ye hear?" - -To Billy's amazement, Peter jumped into the runabout, and fell asleep. A -second later Mr. Carter loomed beside them. - -"Peter? William?" - -His tone brought them to attention with a jerk. Peter straightened his -hat and blinked. - -"What, sir? Yes, sir! Beg pardon, sir; I must 'a' been asleep." - -Mr. Carter leaped to the seat beside him. - -"Drive to the police station," he ordered, in a tone that sent -apprehensive chills chasing up Billy's back. - -"Yes, sir. Whoa, Trixy! Back, b-a-c-k. Get up!" he cut her with the -whip, and they rolled from the circle of flaring torches into the outer -darkness. - -"She's a trifle skittish, sir," said Peter, in his old-time -conversational tone. "The noise o' the clappin' was somethin' awful; it -frightened the horses, sir." - -Mr. Carter grunted by way of response, and Peter in the darkness hugged -himself and smiled. He was once more brimming with cordial good-will -toward all the world. Mr. Carter, however, was too angry to keep still, -and he presently burst into a denunciation of the whole race of showmen, -employing a breadth of vocabulary that Peter had never dreamed him -capable of. - -"Yes, sir," the groom affably agreed, "It's true what ye say. They're -fakes, every one of them, an' this show to-night, sir, is the biggest -fake of all. The way they do people is somethin' awful. Fifty cents they -charges to get in, an' twenty-five more for reserved seats. Extra for -each of the side shows, an' there ain't nothin' in them, sir. Peanuts is -ten cents a pint when ye can buy them at any stand for five, an' their -popcorn balls is stale. I've quit goin' to shows meself. I spent a -dollar in five minutes at the last one, sir. I had a good time and I -ain't regrettin' the money, but 'tis expensive for a poor man." - -Mr. Carter grunted. - -"The worst sell I ever heard of, though," Peter added genially, "is -chargin' fifty cents to ride the elephant in the openin' grand march. Ye -wouldn't think it possible that anybody'd want to do it, but they tells -me that never a night goes by but somebody turns up so forgettin' of his -dignity----" - -Mr. Carter glanced at Peter with a look of quick suspicion. The groom -leaned forward, and with innocent solicitude examined Trixy's gait. - -"Whoa, steady, ole girl! She's limpin' again in her off hind foot. They -never shoe her right at Scanlan's, sir. Don't ye think I'd better take -her down to Gafney's in the mornin'?" - -They were approaching the station house. Peter glanced sideways at his -companion, and picked up the conversation with a deprecatory cough. - -"Yes, sir, the show's a fake, sir, an' no mistake. But if I was you, -sir, I wouldn't be too hard on 'em. 'Twouldn't be a popular move. If -ye're thinkin' of runnin' for judge," Peter broke off and started anew. -"If ye'll excuse me tellin' it, sir, I heard 'em sayin' in Callahan's -saloon the other day that they guessed ye was a better man than Judge -Benedict all right, but that ye was too stuck up. They didn't care about -votin' for a man who thought he was too good to mix with them. An' so, -sir, you're appearin' at the circus so familiar like was a politic -move--meanin' no offence. I know ye didn't do it on purpose, sir, but -it'll bring ye votes." - -He drew up before the station house in a wide curve, and cramped the -wheels and waited. - -Mr. Carter appeared lost in thought. Finally he roused himself to say: - -"Well, after all, perhaps there isn't any use. You may drive back and -pick up the others. I've changed my mind." - - - - -V - -THE RISE OF VITTORIO - - -David MacKenna, the gardener at Jasper Place, was a Scotchman of the -Scotch. He was truculent when sober, and actively pugnacious when drunk. -It may be said to his credit that he was not drunk very often, and that -when he was drunk he was canny enough to keep out of Mr. Jasper's way. -But one night, after a prolonged political discussion at Callahan's -saloon, he was unsteadily steering homeward across the side lawn just as -Mr. Harry and two friends who were visiting him emerged from the gap in -the hedge that divided Jasper Place from Willowbrook. The gentlemen were -returning from a dinner, and were clothed in evening dress. They in no -wise resembled tramps; but David's vision was blurred and his fighting -blood was up. He possessed himself of an armful of damp sods, and warily -advanced to the attack. He was not in a condition to aim very straight, -but the three shining shirt-fronts made an easy mark. Before his victims -had recovered from the suddenness of the onslaught sufficiently to -protect themselves, he had demolished three dress suits. - -The next morning David was dismissed. The other workers, both at Jasper -Place and Willowbrook, appreciated the justice of the sentence, but were -sorry to see him go. David's argumentative temper and David's ready -fists had added zest to social intercourse. They feared that his -successor would be of a milder type, and less entertaining. The -successor came some three days later, and Peter, observing his arrival -across the hedge, paid an early call on Patrick to see what he was like. -Peter returned to Willowbrook disgusted. - -"He's a Dago! A jabberin' Dago out of a ditch. He can't talk more'n ten -words, an' he don't understand what they means. Mr. Harry picked him -all right for a peaceable citizen who won't be spoilin' no dress suits. -He ain't got a drop o' fight in him. Ye call him a liar, an' he smiles -an' says, 'Sank you!'" - -Vittorio set about the weeding of his flower-beds with the sunny -patience bred of love. Whatever were his failings in English and the -war-like arts, at least he understood his business. Mr. Harry watched -his protégé with pleased approval. He had always admired the Italian -character theoretically, but this was the first time that he had ever -put his admiration to the actual test; and he congratulated himself upon -finding at last the ideal gardener with the pastoral soul that he had -long been seeking. Mr. Harry had no racial prejudices himself, and he -took it for granted that others were as broad. - -Vittorio's pastoral soul, however, won less approval among his -fellow-workers. Peter did not share Mr. Harry's enthusiasm for the -Italian race, and Peter largely swayed public opinion both at Jasper -Place and Willowbrook. - -"It's somethin' awful," he declared, "the way this country's gettin' -cluttered up with Dagoes. There ought to be a law against lettin' 'em -come in." - -In so far as he was concerned, Peter refused to let Vittorio come in; -and the man was consigned to social darkness and the companionship of -his plants. He did not seem to mind this ostracism, however, but -whistled and sang at his work with unabated cheerfulness. His baby -English shortly became the butt of everybody's ridicule, but as he never -understood the jokes, he bore no grudge. The only matter in which he -showed the slightest personal prejudice was the fact that they all -persisted in calling him "Tony." - -"My name no Tony," he would patiently explain half a dozen times a day. -"My name Vittorio Emanuele, same-a de king." - -Tony, however, he remained. - -The man's chief anxiety was to learn English, and he was childishly -grateful to anyone who helped him. The stablemen took a delighted -interest in his education; it was considered especially funny to teach -him scurrilous slang. "Come off your perch, you old fool," was one of -the phrases he patiently committed to memory, and later repeated to Mr. -Harry with smiling pride at his own progress. - -Mr. Harry spoke to Peter on the subject. - -"Yes, sir," Peter agreed easily, "it's disgustin', the language these -Dagoes picks up. I can't imagine where they hears it, sir. They're that -familiar, ye can't pound no manners into them." - -Mr. Harry wisely dropped the matter. He knew Peter, and he thought it -safest to let Vittorio work out his own salvation. - -Several of the practical jokes at the man's expense should, logically, -have ended in a fight. Had he taken up the gauntlet, even at the expense -of a whipping, they would have respected him--in so far as Irishmen can -respect an Italian--but nothing could goad him into action. He swallowed -insults with a smiling zest, as though he liked their taste. This -unfailing peaceableness was held to be the more disgraceful in that he -was a strongly built fellow, quite capable of standing up for his -rights. - -"He ain't so bad looking," Annie commented one day, as she and Peter -strolled up to the hedge and inspected the new gardener at work with the -clipping-shears. "And, at least, he's tall--that's something. They're -usually so little, them Eye-talians." - -"Huh!" said Peter, "size ain't no merit. The less there is of an -Eye-talian, the better. His bigness don't help along his courage none. -Ye're a coward, Tony. D'ye hear that?" - -Their comments had been made with perfect freedom in Vittorio's -presence, while he hummed a tune from "Fra Diavolo" in smiling -unconcern. Unless one couched one's insults in kindergarten language -and fired them straight into his face, they passed him by unscathed. - -"Ye're a coward, Tony," Peter repeated. - -"Cow-ward?" Vittorio broke off his song and beamed upon them with a -flash of black eyes and white teeth. "How you mean, cow-ward? No -understand." - -"A coward," Peter patiently explained, "is a man who's afraid to -fight--like you. Eye-talians are cowards. They don't dare stand up man -to man an' take what's comin' to 'em. When they've got a grudge to pay, -they creeps up in the night an' sticks a knife in yer back. That's bein' -a coward." - -The insulting significance of this escaped Vittorio, but he clung to the -word delightedly. "Cow-ward, cow-ward," he repeated, to fix the -syllables in his mind. "Nice word! Sank you." Then, as a glimmering of -Peter's insinuation finally penetrated, he shook his head and laughed. -The charge amused him. "Me no cow-ward!" he declared. "No afraid fight, -but no like-a fight. Too hard work." He shrugged his shoulders and -spread out his hands. "More easy take care-a flower." - -The subtlety of this explanation was lost upon Peter, and the two went -their ways; the one happily engaged with his weeding and his pruning, -the other looking on across the hedge contemptuously scornful. - -Peter's ideal of the highest human attainment was to become a "true -sport." His vocabulary was intensive rather than extensive, and the few -words it contained meant much. The term "true sport" connoted all -desirable qualities. Abstractly, it signified ability, daring, -initiative, force; it meant that the bearer attacked the world with -easy, conquering grace, and--surest test of all--that he faced defeat no -less than success with a high heart. Concretely, a true sport could play -polo and ride to hounds, could drive a motor-car or a four-in-hand or -sail a boat, could shoot or swim or box. All of these things, and -several others, Mr. Harry Jasper could do. It was from observing him -that Peter's definition had gained such precision. - -The billiard-room mantelpiece at Jasper Place held a row of silver cups, -relics of Mr. Harry's college days. The hall at Jasper Place testified -to Mr. Harry's prowess with the rifle. A moose head decorated the arch, -a grizzly bear skin stretched before the hearth, and a crocodile's head -plucked from the mud of its native Nile emerged grinning from the -chimney-piece. Some day Mr. Harry was going to India after a tiger skin -to put over the couch; in the meanwhile he contented himself with -duck-shooting on Great South Bay, or an occasional dip into the -Adirondacks. - -Patrick had accompanied him on the last of these trips, and it had been -a long-standing promise that Peter should go on the next. Their camp was -to be in Canada this year, as soon as the open season for caribou -arrived. Peter's heart was set on a caribou of his own, and as the -summer wore to an end his practice with the rifle was assiduous. - -Mr. Harry had set up a target down on the Jasper beach--a long strip of -muddy gravel which the inlet, at low tide, left bare--and had given the -men permission to shoot. One Saturday afternoon Patrick and Peter and -Billy were gathered on the beach amusing themselves with a rifle and a -fresh box of cartridges. The target was a good two hundred yards away. -With a light rifle, such as the men were using, it was a very pretty -shot to hit one of the outer rings, the bull's-eye, through anything but -a lucky fluke, being almost impossible. - -"Mr. Harry's givin' us a run for our money," Peter grumbled, after -splashing the water behind the target several times in a vain attempt to -get his range. "Ye'd better keep out, Billy. This ain't no easy steps -for little feet." - -But Billy, with his usual aplomb, insisted upon trying. After his -second shot Peter derisively shouted: - -"Look out, Pat! It ain't safe to stand behind him; he's likely to hit -'most anything except the mark." - -Billy good-naturedly retired and engaged himself in keeping score. The -rivalry between Peter and Patrick was keen. The latter was the older -hand at rifle-shooting, but Peter was the younger man and possessed the -keener eye. As soon as they became accustomed to their distance they -pulled into line, and the contest grew spirited. Presently Vittorio, a -garden hoe in hand, came loping across the meadow, attracted by the -shots. When he saw what was toward, he dropped down on the bank and -interestedly watched the match. Patrick had been ahead, but his last -shot went wild and splashed the water to the left of the target. Peter -made the inner ring and pulled the score up even. He was in an elated -frame of mind. - -"Hello, Tony!" he called with unwonted affability as he paused to -reload. "See that shot? Pretty near hit the bull's-eye. You don't know -how to shoot--no? Eye-talians use knives. Americans use guns." - -Vittorio smiled back, pleased at being so freely included in the -conversation. - -"I shoot-a more good dat. You no shoot-a straight; no hit middle." His -tone was not boastful; he merely dropped the remark as an unimpassioned -statement of fact. - -Peter had raised the rifle to his shoulder; he lowered it again to -stare. - -"What are ye givin' us?" he demanded. "Ye think ye can shoot better'n -me?" - -Vittorio shrugged. He had no desire to hurt Peter's feelings, but at the -same time he saw no occasion to lie. - -"Course I shoot-a more good dat," he responded genially. "I shoot-a long -time. You no learn how like-a me." - -"Here," said Peter, stretching the rifle toward the man, "let me see ye -do it, then! Either put up or shut up. I'll show ye that it ain't so -easy as it looks." - -Vittorio sprang to his feet with an air of surprised delight. - -"You let-a me shoot? Sank you! Sank you ver' moch." He took the rifle in -his hand and caressed the barrel with a touch almost loving. His eyes -were eager as a child's. - -"Here, you, Tony," Peter warned, "don't get funny with that gun! Point -it at the target." - -Vittorio raised the rifle and squinted along the barrel; then, as an -idea occurred to him, he lowered it again and faced the three men with -his always sunny smile. He had a sporting proposition to make. - -"You shoot-a more good me, my name Tony. I shoot-a more good you, my -name Vittorio Emanuele, same-a de king. You call me Vittorio, I -understand, I come; you call me Tony, I no understand, no come." - -Peter, whatever his prejudices, was true to his ideals. - -"It's a bargain, Tony. Ye beat me shootin' and I'll call ye any bloomin' -thing ye please--providin' I can twist me tongue to it." - -Vittorio's eyes sought Patrick's. He removed the pipe from his mouth and -grunted. - -"All-a right!" said Vittorio. "We shoot-a free time. First me, den you, -den you, den me again, like dat." - -Without more ado he threw the gun to his shoulder, and, scarcely seeming -to sight, fired, and snapped out the empty cartridge. As the smoke -cleared the three strained forward in open-mouthed astonishment. He had -hit the target squarely in the centre. - -"By gum! he's done it!" Peter gasped; then, after an astonished silence, -"Nothin' but luck--he can't do it again. Gi' me the gun." - -Peter's surprise had not steadied his nerves; his shot went far astray, -and he silently passed the rifle to Patrick. Patrick laid down his -pipe, planted his feet firmly, and made the inner ring. He passed the -rifle on to Vittorio, and resumed his pipe. Patrick was a phlegmatic -soul; it took a decided shock to rouse him to words. - -"Let's see ye do it again," said Peter. - -Vittorio raised the rifle and did it again. His manner was entirely -composed; he scored bull's-eyes as a matter of course. - -Peter's feelings by now were too complicated for words. He studied the -nonchalant Vittorio a moment in baffled bewilderment, then stepped -forward without remark to take his turn. He sighted long and carefully, -and scored the outer ring. He offered the rifle to Patrick, who waved it -away. - -"I'm out." - -"Don't back down," said Peter. "Ye've got two more tries. If ye let him -beat us he'll be so darned cocky there won't be no livin' with him." - -Patrick copied the Italian's shrug and passed the rifle on. Vittorio -advanced for his third turn under the keenly suspicious scrutiny of six -eyes. They could not divine how such shooting could be accomplished by -trickery, but, still more, they could not divine how it could be -accomplished without. Vittorio sighted more carefully this time, but he -made his bull's-eye with unabated precision. - -"Dat make-a free time," he observed, relinquishing the rifle with a -regretful sigh. - -"Guess I've had enough," said Peter. "You're Vittorio Emanuele, same-a -de king, all right. We don't appear to trot in your class. How'd ye -learn?" - -"All Italian mans know how shoot--learn in de army. I shoot-a long time. -Shoot-a Afric'." - -"Africa!" said Peter. "You been in Africa?" - -"Two time," Vittorio nodded. - -"What'd ye shoot there--lions?" - -"No, no lion." Vittorio raised his shoulders with a deprecatory air. -"Just man." - -"Oh!" said Peter. His tone was noticeably subdued. - -Mr. Harry Jasper, also attracted by the shooting, came strolling along -the beach to see how the match was going, but arrived too late to -witness Vittorio's spectacular exhibit. Mr. Harry considered himself a -pretty good shot; he had often beaten Peter, and Peter entertained a -slightly malicious desire to see him worsted once at his own game. - -"Oh, Mr. Harry!" he called carelessly. "We've been tryin' our hands at -yer target, like ye said we might, an' this here new gardener-man come -along an' wanted to have a try. He's a surprisin' good shot for an -Eye-talian. Ye wouldn't believe it, but he beat Pat an' he beat me. -Would you mind shootin' with him once? I'd like to show him what -Americans can do." - -Peter's tone was a touch over-careless. Mr. Harry glanced at him -suspiciously, and from him to Vittorio, who was looking on with amiable -aloofness, quite unaware that he was the subject of discussion. Mr. -Harry had not been entirely blind to the trials of David's peaceable -successor, and he was glad to see that the man was coming to the top. - -"So he's beaten you? How does that happen, Peter? I thought you prided -yourself on your shooting." - -"I'm a little out o' practice," said Peter. - -Mr. Harry ran his eye over Vittorio's well-set-up figure. - -"Served in the army, Vittorio?" - -"Si, signore, five year." - -"What corps--_Bersaglieri_?" - -"Si, si!" Vittorio's face was alight. "I b'long _Bersaglieri_. How you -know?" - -"Thank you for your interest, Peter," Mr. Harry laughed. "I don't -believe I'll shoot with him to-day. I'm a little out of practice -myself." - -Peter's face was mystified. - -"The _Bersaglieri_," Mr. Harry explained, "are the sharpshooters of the -Italian army, and a well-trained lot they are. You and I, Peter, are -amateurs; we don't enter matches against them when we know what we're -about." - -"He didn't tell me nothin' about bein' a sharpshooter," said Peter, -sulkily. "He said he learned in Africa." - -"Africa?" Mr. Harry echoed. "Did you go through the campaign in -Abyssinia, Vittorio?" - -The man nodded. - -"Surely not at Adowa?" - -A quick shadow crossed his face. - -"Si, signore," he said, simply; "I fight at Adowa." - -"Good heavens!" Mr. Harry cried. "The fellow's fought against Menelik -and the dervishes." He faced the other three, his hand on Vittorio's -shoulder. - -"You don't know what that means? You never heard of Adowa? It means that -this chap here has been through the fiercest battle ever fought on -African soil. He was beaten--the odds against him were too heavy--but it -was one of the bravest defeats in history. The Italians for three days -had been marching across burning deserts in a hostile country, on half -rations, and with almost no water. At the end of that time they -accomplished a forced march of twenty miles by night, across hills and -ravines so rough that the cannon had frequently to be carried by hand. -Then, as they were, worn out and hungry, hopeless as to the outcome, -they were asked to face an enemy six times larger than themselves--not a -civilized enemy, mind you, but howling dervishes--and they did it -without flinching. There's not a man who went through Adowa but came out -a hero." - -Vittorio had watched his face; here and there he had caught a word. He -suddenly threw out his arms in a spasm of excitement, his eyes blazing -at the memory of the fight. - -"Dat's right! Menelik bad king--bad war. No like-a dose peoples--me. I -shoot-a fast like dis." He snatched up the rifle and crouched behind a -rock; in pantomime he killed a dozen of the foe in as many seconds. He -threw the rifle away and sprang to his feet. "Not enough cartridges! No -can shoot-a more. Den I get-a wound; lie like-a dis." He dropped his -arms and drooped his head. "How you say? Tired? Yes, ver' tired like-a -baby. _Santissima Virgine!_ No can move, I bleed so moch. Sun ver' -hot--no water--ver' t'irsty. Den come-a dose peoples. Dey cut-a me up." - -He tore open his shirt. A broad scar extended from his shoulder across -his breast. He lifted his hair and showed a scar behind his ear, another -on his forehead. - -"Si, signore, all over my body dey cut-a me up!" - -Mr. Harry frowned. - -"Yes, yes, I know. It was terrible! You put up a great fight, -Vittorio--sorry you didn't do for 'em. You are brave chaps, you -Italians. It's a great thing to have gone through Adowa, something to be -proud of all your life. I am glad to know you were there." He glanced at -Peter sharply, then nodded and turned away. - -Peter studied Vittorio, a new look in his eyes. The man's momentary -excitement had vanished; he was his old, placid, sunny self again. - -"I guess we made a mistake," said Peter, and he held out his hand. - -Vittorio obligingly shook it, since that seemed to be expected, but he -did it with smiling uncomprehension. He had never known that he had been -insulted, and he did not realize that amends were necessary. A pause -followed while the three men gazed at Vittorio, and Vittorio gazed at -the sun, slanting toward the western horizon. - -"Six 'clock!" he exclaimed, coming to a sudden realization that duty -called. "I go water flower." He shouldered his hoe and turned away, but -paused to add, his eyes wistfully on the rifle: "You let-a me shoot some -ovver day? Sank you. Goo'-bye." - -Peter looked after him and shook his head. - -"An' to think he's a Dago! I s'pose if ye could understand what they was -jabberin' about, half the time, ye'd find they was talkin' as sensible -as anybody else. 'Tis funny," he mused, "how much people is alike, no -matter what country they comes from." He picked up the rifle and stuffed -the cartridges into his pocket. "Get a move on ye, Billy. 'Tis time we -was feedin' them horses." - - - - -VI - -HELD FOR RANSOM - - -Peter, from being a care-free, irresponsible young groom, suddenly found -himself beset with many and multiform anxieties. It commenced with Joe's -falling through the trap-door in the ice-house and breaking his leg. -While he was in the hospital impatiently recovering, Peter was put in -command of the stables. The accident happened only a short time after -the burning of the waggon-shed, and Peter was determined to retrieve his -good name in Mr. Carter's sight. The axle grease episode remained a -black spot in his career. The three Brainard boys were still at -Willowbrook, but their visit was to come to an end in a week, and in the -meantime they, too, were in a chastened mood. Peter marked out a diamond -in the lower meadow, and with infinite relief saw them devote -themselves to the innocent pursuit of base-ball. If their enthusiasm -could only be made to last out the week, he felt that the waggon-shed -would be cheap at the price. - -But though the boys were providentially quiescent, Peter's private -affairs were not moving so smoothly. He had another reason besides mere -ambition for wishing to prove himself capable of taking command in that -uncertain future when Joe should resign. Heretofore, the prospect of -being coachman, absolute ruler of three grooms and two stableboys, had -been sufficient goal in itself; but of late, visions of the coachman's -cottage, vine-covered, with a gay little garden in front, and Annie -sewing on the porch, had supplanted the old picture of himself haughtily -ordering about his five underlings. He had not, however, ventured to -suggest this dream to Annie. His usual daring impudence, which had -endeared him to her predecessors, seemed to have deserted him, and he -became tongue-tied in her presence. Peter had been possessed before by -many errant fancies, but never by an obsession such as this. He went -about his work blind to everything but the memory of her face. When he -peered into the oat-bin it was Annie that he saw; she smiled back at him -from the polished sides of the mail phaeton and the bottom of every -bucket of water. She made him happy and miserable, exultant and fearful, -all at once. Poor badgered Peter knew now what it felt like to be a -brook-trout when a skilful angler is managing the reel. - -This alternate hope and fear was sufficiently upsetting for one whose -whole mind should have been upon his duties, but it was nothing to the -state that followed. Their quarrel fell from a clear sky. He had taken -her, one Sunday afternoon, to a popular amusement resort, a trolley -ride's distance from Willowbrook, and had suggested refreshments in a -place he remembered from the year before. It was called the "Heart of -Asia," and represented, so the man with the megaphone announced, the -harem of a native prince. The room was hung with vivid draperies of gold -and crimson, and dimly lighted by coloured lanterns suspended from the -ceiling. The refreshments were served by maidens billed as "Circassian -Beauties," but whose speech betrayed a Celtic origin. - -Peter picked out a secluded table and ordered striped ice-cream. He had -thought the place particularly conducive to romance, but Annie was too -excited over her first introduction to the glamour of the East to give -attention to anything but her surroundings. - -"Ain't she wonderful?" Annie whispered, as a Circassian Beauty, in green -and gold, trailed across her field of vision. - -Peter shrugged in blasé, man-of-the-world fashion. - -"'Tis the paint an' powder an' clothes an' lights," he said sceptically. -"Out in the daylight, with her own clothes on, she wouldn't look so -different from you." - -This was not a strictly politic rejoinder, but he meant it well, and for -the moment Annie was too dazzled to be in a carping mood. The gorgeous -creature drew near, and set their ice-cream upon the table. She was -turning away, after a casual glance to make sure that they had spoons -and ice-water and paper napkins, when her eyes lighted upon Peter. Her -second glance was not so casual; it lingered for a moment on his face. -Peter had never visited the place but once in his life, and that the -summer before, when he had spent an inconsequential half hour in -chaffing the girl who served him. The incident had completely faded from -his mind; but the girl had a diabolical memory and a love of mischief. - -"Hello, Peter Malone!" she laughed. "You haven't been around much -lately. I guess you don't care for me any more." - -Peter's face--for no reason on earth but that he felt Annie's -questioning eyes upon him--took on a lively red. Annie transferred her -gaze and studied the Circassian Beauty at close range. After some -further reminiscences, audaciously expansive on her part, gruffly -monosyllabic on Peter's, the girl withdrew with a farewell laugh over -her shoulder; and Annie's eyes returned to Peter, an ominous sparkle in -their depths. - -"I've had all I want o' this place," she observed, pushing away her dish -of ice-cream. - -Peter followed her outside, aware of a chilly change in the atmosphere. -He anxiously ventured on an explanation, but the more he explained, the -more undue prominence the incident acquired. - -"Ye needn't be apologizin'," said Annie, in an entirely friendly tone. -"Ye've got a perfect right to go anywhere ye please, an' know anyone ye -please. It's none o' my business." - -She bade him good-night with an air of cheerful aloofness, thanking him -politely for an "interestin' afternoon." Her manner suggested that there -was nothing to quarrel about; she had been mistaken in her estimate of -Peter, but that was not his fault; in the future she would be more -clear-seeing. This wholly reasonable attitude failed to put Peter at his -ease. He passed a wakeful night, divided between profanity when he -thought of the Circassian Beauty, and anxiety when he thought of Annie. - -In the morning the plot thickened. - -A fourth youngster was spending a few days at Willowbrook--another -Brainard, cousin to the three who were already there; but, -providentially, he was only thirteen months old, and had not learned to -walk. Peter accepted the arrival without concern, never dreaming that -this young gentleman's presence could in any degree affect his own peace -of mind. The baby, however, had lost his nurse, and while they were -searching a new one Annie volunteered to act as substitute. The morning -after her visit to the Heart of Asia saw her ensconced on a rustic bench -under an apple tree on the lawn, the perambulator at her side. The tree -was secluded from the house by a mass of shrubbery, but was plainly -visible from the stables. It was also closely adjacent to the grounds of -Jasper Place, and this morning, by a fortuitous circumstance, Vittorio -was clipping the hedge. - -It had never entered Peter's mind to regard Vittorio as a possible -rival; but now it suddenly occurred to him that the man was good -looking--not according to his own ideals, but in a theatrical, exotic -fashion, sure to catch a woman's eye. It also occurred to him that -Vittorio's conversation was diverting--again from a woman's point of -view. There was something piquant in the spectacle of a -broad-shouldered, full-grown man conversing in the baby accents of a -child of three. Peter went about his work that day, bitterly aware of -the by-play going on under the apple tree. Annie had undertaken the -task of teaching Vittorio English, and the lessons were punctuated by -the clear ring of her merry laugh. - -In the evening the man was enticed to the back veranda, where he sat on -the top step singing serenades to his own accompaniment on the mandolin, -while the maids listened in rapt delight. Even Miss Ethel added her -applause; overhearing the music, she haled Vittorio and his mandolin and -Italian love songs to the front veranda to entertain her guests. Peter, -who had never been invited to entertain Miss Ethel's guests, swallowed -this latest triumph with what grace he might. The irony of the matter -was that it had been Peter himself who had first rescued Vittorio from -social obscurity, and who had insisted to the other sceptical ones that -the man was "all right," in spite of the misfortune of having been born -in Italy instead of in Ireland. He had not hoped to be taken so -completely at his word. - -In this sympathetic atmosphere Vittorio expanded like a flower in the -sunlight. He had suddenly become a social lion. His funny sayings were -passed from mouth to mouth, and everybody on the place commenced -conversing in Italian-English. - -"Eh, Peta!" Billy hailed him one afternoon, "Mees Effel, she want-a go -ride. She want-a you go too. I saddle dose horsa?" - -"Aw, let up!" Peter growled. "We hears enough Dago talk without them as -knows decent English havin' to make fools o' theirselves." - -While Peter's private troubles were thus heavy upon him, his official -responsibility increased. Mr. Carter was called away on business. On the -morning of the departure, as they were starting for the station, Miss -Ethel ran after them with a forgotten umbrella. "Take care of yourself, -dad!" She kissed him good-bye, and stood on the veranda waving her -handkerchief until the carriage was out of sight. Mr. Carter settled -himself against the cushions with a sigh. - -"What a world this would be without women!" he murmured. - -"Yes, sir," Peter agreed gloomily, "an', beggin' yer pardon, what a hell -of a world it is with 'em, sir." - -The following few days strengthened this opinion. Vittorio's education -progressed, while Annie still maintained her attitude of superior -aloofness. Her manner was friendly--exactly as friendly to Peter as to -any of the other men. The intangibility of the quarrel was what made it -hardest to bear. Could he have punched some one it would have eased his -mind, but in all fairness he was forced to acknowledge that the "Dago" -was not to blame. The advances were blatantly from Annie's side. - -In the meantime, however, a new complication had developed, which acted -in a measure as a counter irritant. Mr. Carter's train was barely out -of hearing, when the most extraordinary amount of petty thieving -commenced. Nothing could be laid down anywhere about the place but that -it immediately disappeared. There had been a number of Armenian women in -the neighbourhood selling lace, and Peter would have suspected these had -not the list of stolen articles been so unusual. It comprised the -clothes-line, half a dozen sheets and the wash-boiler, six jars of jam -from the cellar, and some bread and cake from the pantry window, a -bundle of stakes for training the tomato plants, and Master Wallace's -spelling book (he was having to study through vacation, and he bore the -loss with composure), a Japanese umbrella-holder from the front veranda, -a pair of lap-robes from the stable, and last, most uncanny touch of -all, the family Bible! This had stood on the under shelf of the table in -the library window, where it could be reached easily from the outside; -but, as Peter dazedly inquired of the world in general, "Why the divvil -should anyone be wantin' to take a Bible? It can't do him no good when -it's stolen." - -It was Annie who had discovered this last depredation in the course of -her daily dusting. As yet the family had not noticed the loss of any of -the articles, and Peter, fearing that the matter might reflect upon his -own generalship, had hesitated about reporting it; none of the things -were very valuable, and he had daily expected to find the thief. The -boys knew, however, and took an open delight in the situation. Anything -approaching a mystery was food and drink to them. They abandoned -base-ball, and gave themselves over entirely to a consideration of the -puzzle. - -The day the lap-robes disappeared, they were gathered in a group outside -the stable, Peter tipped back in an old armchair pulling furiously at -his pipe, with a double frown the length of his brow, the four boys -occupying the bench in an excited, chattering row. - -"Perhaps the place is haunted!" Master Jerome put forth the suggestion -with wide eyes. - -"Haunted nothin'," Peter growled. "It was a pretty live ghost that got -off with them lap-robes durin' the two minutes the stable was empty." - -"They were the old ones," Bobby consoled him. "At least it was kind of -him not to take the best ones when they were just as convenient." - -"Do you fink it's gypsies?" Master Augustus asked the question with a -fearful glance over his shoulder. He had been told that gypsies carried -off bad little boys. - -"I don't know what it is," Peter said sullenly, "but if I ever ketches -anybody snooping about this place who has no business to snoop----" The -sentence ended in a threatening silence. - -The four boys looked at one another and shuddered delightedly. - -"It's like a book," Master Wallace declared. "The miscreant has foiled -us at every turn." - -"Let's form a detective bureau!" Bobby rose to the occasion. "You can -be chief of the local police, Peter. And since you find the mystery -beyond your power to solve, you have called to your aid a private -detective force--that's us. Jerome and Wallace and me can be detectives, -and Augustus can be a policeman." - -"I want to be a detective, too," objected Augustus. - -"It's nice to be a policeman," soothed Bobby. "When we've tracked down -the thief, we'll call to you and say, 'Officer, handcuff this man!' and -you'll snap 'em on his wrist and lead him to jail." - -"All right!" agreed Augustus. "Give 'em to me." - -"Later, when we're on his track," said Bobby. "Now, Peter, you ought to -plan a campaign. 'Course, you aren't expected to find out anything, the -local police never do; but nominally we're under your orders, so you -must tell us to shadow some one." - -Peter had been staring into space only half at tending to their -prattle. Bobby jogged his elbow. - -"Pay attention, Peter! We're waiting for orders. You ought to detail two -plain-clothes men to watch the gates, and I think it would be well to -shadow Vittorio. He's a foreigner, you know; maybe he b'longs to the -Black Hand. I shouldn't wonder if he was planning to blow up the -stables. Only," he added, as an afterthought, "it's sort of hard -shadowing a man who stands by the hedge all day talking to Annie." - -Peter's frown darkened as his gaze sought the rustic bench under the -apple tree. He had little spirit left for the boys' diversions, but he -roused himself to say: - -"I'll turn the details o' the case over to you, Master Bobby. Guard the -gates, an' shadow anyone that seems suspicious. I'm drivin' Joe's wife -to the hospital this afternoon; ye can report at six o'clock, when I -gets back." - -The four rose and saluted; they held a whispered consultation, and -crept warily away in different directions. Peter watched them out of -sight with a wan smile, then turned inside to hitch up. The ladies of -the family were spending the day in the city on a midsummer shopping -expedition, so he had no fear of any demands issuing from the house. He -called the under-groom, gave him strict orders not to leave the stables -alone a minute, and drove on to the cottage to pick up Joe's wife. She -packed a basket for the invalid into the back of the cart, and climbed -up beside Peter. - -"I'm fetching him out something to eat," she explained. "They don't give -him nourishment enough for a kitten. A man of Joe's size can't keep up -his strength on beef tea and soft-boiled eggs." - -As they drove through the gate, a small figure sprang out from the -bushes in front of the astonished Trixy's head. - -"I'm sorry to detain you," said Bobby, with dignified aloofness--his -expression suggested that he had never seen Peter before--"but my -orders are to search every person leaving the premises." - -"Lord love you, Master Bobby! What are you playing at now?" inquired -Joe's wife with wide-eyed amazement. - -"I am Robert Carter, of the Secret Service," said Bobby, icily, as he -walked to the rear of the buckboard and commenced his search. "Ha! What -is this?" He raised the towel that covered the basket and suspiciously -peered inside. It contained two pies, a quantity of doughnuts, and a jar -of cherry preserves. "Madam, may I ask where you obtained these -articles?" His manner was so stern that she stammered her reply with an -air of convicted guilt. - -"I--I made them myself. They're for Joe in the hospital." - -"H'm!" said Bobby. "As they are for charitable purposes, I will not -confiscate the entire lot." He gravely abstracted two of the most -sugary doughnuts and transferred them to his pocket. "These will be -sufficient to exhibit at headquarters with a description of the rest. -Please favour me with your names and addresses." - -Peter complied in all seriousness. Evidently, his was a case of dual -personality; he represented the local police only when he was not acting -as coachman. He drove on with an amused grin. After all, the boys and -their escapades added to the dull routine of daily life a spice of -adventure which most twentieth century households lacked; the -entertainment they furnished paid for the trouble they caused. - -Three hours later Peter set down Joe's wife at the door of the cottage -and drove on to the stables. As he rounded the corner, he perceived an -excited group gathered under the apple tree where he had left Annie and -her kindergarten class. - -"There he is!" cried Nora. "Peter! Come here quick." - -Peter threw the lines to an adjacent groom--the one who had been told -not to leave the stables--and hurriedly joined the circle. He found -Annie collapsed on her bench beside the baby-carriage, rocking back and -forth, and sobbing convulsively, while the other servants crowded about -her. - -"What's the matter?" he gasped. - -"They've stolen the baby!" Annie wailed. - -Peter felt a cold chill run up his back as he peered into the empty -carriage. For a moment he was silent, struggling to grasp the full -horror of the fact; then he laid a hand, none too lightly, on Annie's -shoulder, and shook her into a state of coherence. - -"Stop yer noise an' tell me when it happened." - -"Just now! Just a few minutes ago. The baby was asleep, an' Vittorio, he -had some new flowers in the farther bed, an' he wanted me to tell him -their name. I wasn't gone more'n five minutes, an' when I come back I -peeked in to see if the baby was all right, an' the carriage was empty! -We've hunted everywhere. He's gone--stolen just like the lap-robes." - -Annie buried her head in her arms and commenced sobbing anew. Peter's -face reflected the blankness of the others. - -"Lord! This is awful! What will its mother be sayin'?" - -Annie's sobs increased at this agonizing thought. - -"It's them Armenian-lace women," Nora put in. "Master Bobby says they're -gypsies, and are always stealing babies and holding them for ransom." - -"Haven't ye done anything?" he cried. "Didn't ye telephone for the -p'lice?" - -"Master Bobby wouldn't let us. He says the local police are blind as -bats and what we need are detectives. An' above all, he says, we must -not let it get into the papers; his father is awful mad when anything -gets into the papers. Leave it to him, he says, and he'll have the -gypsies shadowed." - -"This ain't no time for play," growled Peter, whirling toward the house -and the telephone. "What's that?" He stopped as his eye lighted upon a -vivid sheet of paper lying on the ground. - -"It was pinned to the p-pillow," Annie sobbed. - -Peter snatched it up and stared for a moment in blank amazement. The -words were printed in staggering characters, a bright vermilion in tone. - - - PLACE TEN THOUSAN DOUBBLOONS - IN GOLD IN THE HOLLO OAK - BEFORE SUN RISE AND - YOUR BABY SHALL BE - RISTORED FAIL AND - YOU WONT NEVER SEE - HIM AGEN!! - BLOOD! BLOOD! - - -A flash of illumination swept over Peter's face. - -There was an old barn at the end of the lane that had been moved back -when the new stables were built. A few days before, Peter, himself -unobserved, had seen Wallace knock three times on the door, and had -heard a voice from inside respond: - -"Who goes there?" - -"A friend," said Wallace. - -"Give the countersign." - -"Blood!" - -"Pass in," said the voice. - -The door had opened six inches while Wallace squeezed through. Peter had -supposed it merely their latest play, unintelligible but harmless; now, -however, he commenced putting two and two together. Evidently, his was -not the only case of dual personality. - -"Gee! I'm a fool not to have thought of it," he muttered. - -"Oh, Pete!" Annie implored. "Do you know where he is?" - -Peter controlled his features and gravely shook his head. - -"I can't say as I do, exactly, but this here paper furnishes a clue. I -think p'raps I can find the baby without calling in the p'lice." He -faced the others. "Go back to the house and watch out that none o' them -gypsy women comes prowlin' around." He waited until they were out of -hearing, then he sat down on the bench by Annie. "I'll find the kid on -just one condition--ye're to let that Dago alone. D'ye understand?" - -"Get the baby, hurry--please! I'll talk to you afterward." - -"I think I'll be talkin' just a second now. Ye know well enough I never -had nothin' to do with that Circassian Beauty girl." - -"Yes, yes, Pete! I believe you. I know you didn't. Please go." - -"Stop thinkin' o' the kid a minute an' listen to me." He reached over -and grasped her firmly by the wrist. "If I fetches him back without no -hurt before his mother gets home, will everything be just the same -between us as before I took ye to that infernal Heart of Asia?" - -"Yes, Pete, honest--I promise." Her lips trembled momentarily into a -smile. "I knew you didn't have nothing to do with her. I just wanted to -make you mad." - -His grasp tightened. - -"Ye succeeded all right." - -"Ow, Pete, let me go! You hurt." - -He dropped her wrist and rose to his feet. - -"Mind, now, this is on the straight. I finds the kid an' we're friends -again." - -She nodded and smiled into his eyes. Peter smiled back, and swung off, -whistling, down the lane. A rustling behind the hedge, and a scampering -of feet, warned him that the enemy had posted scouts. He stilled his -whistle and approached the old barn warily. It presented a blank face -when he arrived; the door was shut and locked. He pounded three times. A -startled movement occurred inside, but no challenge. He pounded again, -more insistently, pushing with his shoulder until there was the sound of -straining timber. - -"Who goes there? Give the countersign," issued from the keyhole in -Master Augustus's tones. - -"Blood!" said Peter, with grim emphasis. - -A pause followed, during which he kept his ear to the crack. A whispered -consultation was going on inside, then presently, a small window opened -and Master Augustus's head appeared. - -"Oh, Pete! Is dat you?" There was relief in his tone. "Wait a minute an' -I'll let you in. I was 'fraid it was gypsies." - -"Well, it ain't gypsies; it's the local p'lice on the track o' stolen -goods. You open up that door an' be quick about it!" - -A long wait ensued while Augustus ineffectually fumbled with the lock, -talking meanwhile to Peter in as loud a voice as possible to drown the -sound of movement behind him. The door was finally flung wide, and Peter -was received with a disarming smile. He stepped inside and peered about. - -"Where have ye hid the other boys?" he demanded. - -"I'm a p'liceman," lisped Augustus, with engaging inconsequence, -"stationed here to guard de lane. I fought it was safest to keep de door -locked for fear some more gypsy people might come along." - -"Where's the ladder gone to that loft?" - -"De ladder?" Augustus raised wide innocent eyes to the hole in the -ceiling. "Maybe de same person stole de ladder as stole de ovver fings." - -"Maybe," Peter assented genially, as he squinted up through the opening. - -The end of the ladder was visible, also the end of a rope-ladder, easier -to haul up in emergencies. The clothes-line at least was accounted for. -Peter took off his coat, shoved a saw-horse under the opening, and -sprang and caught the edge of the scuttle, while Augustus, in a frenzy -of remonstrance, danced below and shouted warnings. After a few -convulsive kicks Peter swung himself up and sat down on the edge of the -scuttle to get his breath, while he took a preliminary survey of the -room. There was no doubt but that he had tracked the robbers to their -den. Opposite him, in letters a foot high, the legend sprawled the -length of the wall: - - - TOM SAWYER'S ROBBER GANG - - -As his eyes roved about the room they lit on one familiar object after -another. The four walls were hung with sheets; two pirate flags of black -broadcloth (he recognized his lap-robes) fluttered overhead; the centre -of the room was occupied by the umbrella-stand, upside down, serving as -a pedestal for the Bible, and the tomato stakes, made into cross swords, -decorated the walls. The booty was there, but the thieves had escaped. A -second, more thorough examination, however, betrayed in a shadowy -corner, a slight bulging of the sheets, while sundry legs protruded -from below. Peter stalked over, and laying a firm grasp on the nearest -ankle, plucked out Master Wallace from behind the arras. He set the boy -on his feet and shook him. - -"What have ye done with that baby?" - -Wallace dug his fists into his eyes and commenced to whimper. Peter -tried another cast, and fetched out Master Bobby. - -"Hello, Pete!" said Bobby, with cheerful impudence. - -"You cough up that baby," said Peter. - -"He's in the wash-boiler." Bobby waved his hand airily toward the -opposite end of the room. - -Peter, still grasping Bobby's collar with a touch unpleasantly firm, -strode across and raised the lid. The baby was sleeping as peacefully as -in his own perambulator. - -"We were just going to return him when you came." Bobby's voice -contained an increasing note of anxiety. "We fed him and sterilized his -milk just like Annie does. He's been having a bully time, laughing and -crowing to beat the band. He likes adventures. It's terribly stupid -lying all day in that carriage; a little change is good for his health." - -Peter shook his captive. "What's the meanin' o' this?" His gesture -included the entire interior. - -"We're robbers," said Bobby, stanchly. "I'm Huck Finn, the Red-handed, -and Jerome's Tom Sawyer, the Terror of the Plains. When we saw that baby -left alone in the carriage, we thought we ought to teach Annie a lesson. -We meant to turn into detectives pretty soon and raid this robber den -and take the baby back. We were just getting ready to be detectives when -you came." - -"This is one time the local police got in first," observed Peter. -"What's that Bible for?" - -"To take our oaths on." - -"Huh! I guess yer mother will be havin' somethin' to say to that." He -lowered the ladder and faced the robbers. There were three by this -time: Jerome had emerged of his own accord. "I'll take the baby meself. -Master Bobby, ye follow with the Bible; Master Jerome, ye rip the skull -an' bones off them lap-robes, fold 'em up neat, an' put 'em in the -closet where they b'long. I'll give ye just half an hour to break up -this gang an' return the loot. Master Augustus!" Peter bellowed down the -trap, "fetch four pairs o' handcuffs an' have these robbers at the -p'lice station in half an hour to hear their sentence." - -He shouldered the baby with awkward care, and retraced his steps toward -the house. Annie was still drooping on her bench. Peter approached -softly from behind. - -"Here he is like I promised." - -"Oh, Pete! Is he hurt?" She snatched the child from his arms and -commenced anxiously examining his limbs for injuries. The baby grabbed -her hair and cooed. She covered him with kisses. "Where'd you find him?" - -"I found him--where I found him," said Peter, cannily, "an' don't ye be -leavin' him alone again." - -"I won't! I can't never thank you enough." - -"Yes, ye can--by not flirtin' with that Dago any more." - -"I wasn't flirtin' with him; he don't care nothin' about me. All he -wants is to learn to talk." - -Peter looked sceptical. - -"Honest, Pete! It's the livin' truth. I never flirted with no one, -except--maybe you." - -Peter's face softened momentarily, but it hardened again as a shadow -fell between them. Vittorio was standing on the other side of the hedge. - -"You find-a dat baby?" he inquired with an all-inclusive smile. As the -fact was self-evident, nobody answered. Vittorio was a romantic soul; he -caught the breath of sentiment in the air. "Annie you girl?" he inquired -genially of Peter. - -Peter scowled without speaking. - -"I got-a girl too, name Marietta. Live-a Napoli. Some day I send-a -money, she come Americ'; marry wif me. Nice girl, Marietta. Annie nice -girl, too," he added, as a polite afterthought. "You marry wif her?" - -Peter's face cleared. - -"Some day, Vittorio, if she'll be havin' me." He stole a side glance at -Annie. She rose with a quick flush. - -"Quit your foolin', Pete! 'Tis time this baby was getting his supper. -Would you mind settin' his carriage on the porch? Good night, Vittorio." -She tucked the baby under her arm and started, singing, for the house. - -Peter put up the carriage and sauntered toward the stables in the utmost -good humour. He found Augustus with his prisoners drawn up in line, -their wrists and ankles shackled together. - -Augustus saluted. "I caught free robbers," he observed. "De ovver one -'scaped." - -Peter drew his face into an expression of judicial sternness. "What -have ye got to say for yourselves?" he growled. - -There was silence for a moment, then Jerome ventured: "We're going away -in three days. I shouldn't think at the very end you'd want to have hard -feelings between us." - -"If you tell mother," Bobby added, "you'll get Annie into an awful lot -of trouble. Annie's been good to me. I'd hate to have her get a -scolding." - -Peter suppressed a grin. - -"Ten years at solitary confinement is what ye deserve," he announced, -"but since there's extenuatin' circumstances, I'll let ye go free on -parole--providin' ye play base-ball all the rest o' the time." - -"I say, Pete, you're bully!" - -"It's a bargain," said Peter. "_An' mind ye keep to it._ Officer, set -free the prisoners." - - - - -VII - -GEORGE WASHINGTON'S UNDERSTUDY - - -"Wait a moment, Peter," Miss Ethel called from the veranda, as he was -starting for the village with the daily marketing list. "I want you to -drive around by Red Towers on your way home and leave this note for Mrs. -Booth-Higby." - -"Very well, Miss Ethel." Peter reined in Trixy and received the note -with a polite pull at his hat brim. - -"And, Peter, you might use a little discretion. That is--I don't want -her to know----" - -"You trust me, Miss Ethel; I'll fix it." - -Her eyes met his for a second and she laughed. Peter's face also relaxed -its official gravity as he pocketed the note and started off. He -understood well the inner feelings with which she had penned its polite -phrases. A battle had been waging in the Carter family on the subject of -Mrs. Booth-Higby, and the presence of the invitation in Peter's pocket -proved that Miss Ethel was vanquished. - -The invitation concerned a garden party to be given at Willowbrook on -the evening of the fifteenth, with the Daughters of the Revolution as -guests of honour, and amateur theatricals as entertainment. Peter knew -all about it, having arduously assisted the village carpenter in the -construction of rocks, boats, wigwams, log-cabins and primæval forests. -He knew, also, that the chief attraction of the evening would not be the -theatricals, but rather the presence of a young Irish earl who was -visiting Mr. Harry Jasper. Miss Ethel was also entertaining guests, and -the two households formed an exclusive party among themselves. The -entire neighbourhood was agog at the idea of a live lord in their midst, -but so far no one had seen him, except from a distance, as he was -whirled past in Mr. Harry's motor, or trailed across the golf links in -Miss Ethel's wake. She was planning to exhibit him publicly on the night -of the garden party. - -The question of invitations had been difficult, particularly in the case -of Mrs. Booth-Higby. In regard to this lady society was divided into two -camps, comprising those who received her and those who did not. Miss -Ethel was firm in her adherence to those who did not, but her father and -mother had tacitly slipped over to the other camp--Mr. Carter being a -corporation lawyer, and Mr. Booth-Higby a rising financier. Peter -likewise knew all about this, Mrs. Carter and her daughter having -discussed the matter through the length of a seven-mile drive, while he -sedulously kept his eyes on the horses' ears, that the smile which would -not be suppressed might at least be unobserved. - -Mrs. Carter had maintained that, since Mrs. Booth-Higby was a member of -the Society, not to invite her would be too open a slight. Miss Ethel -had replied that the party was purely a social affair--she could invite -whom she pleased--and she had added some pointed details. The woman's -maiden name, as everyone knew, was Maggie McGarrah, and her father, -previous to his political career, had kept a saloon; she was odious, -pushing, _nouveau riche_; she dyed her hair and pencilled her eyebrows, -she didn't have a thought in the world beyond clothes, and she flirted -outrageously with every man who came near. Peter's smile had broadened -at this last item. It was, he shrewdly suspected, the keynote of the -trouble. Miss Ethel had caught Mr. Harry Jasper paying too assiduous -attention to Mrs. Booth-Higby's commands on the occasion of a recent -polo game. - -Peter felt that when Mrs. Carter and her daughter matched wills, the -result was pretty even betting, and his sporting instincts were aroused. -He had been interested, upon delivering the invitations, to see that -there was none for the Booth-Higbys; and now his interest was doubly -keen at receiving it three days late. Miss Ethel had succumbed to the -weight of superior argument. - -He turned in between the ornate gates of Red Towers--the two posts -surmounted by lions upholding a mythical coat of arms--and drew up in -the shadow of an imposing _porte-cochère_. A gay group of ladies and -gentlemen were gathered in lounging chairs on the veranda, engaged with -frosted glasses of mint julep; while Mrs. Booth-Higby herself, coifed -and gowned as for an evening reception, was standing in the glass doors -of the drawing-room. As her gaze fell upon Peter she strolled toward him -with a voluminous rustle of draperies. - -"Whose man are you?" she inquired, with an air of languid condescension. - -Peter's face reddened slightly. The entire group had ceased their -conversation to stare. - -"Mr. Jerome Carter's," he replied, fumbling for the note. - -"Ah!" said Mrs. Booth-Higby, with a lifting of the eyebrows. - -"It should have come three days ago," Peter glibly lied. "Miss Carter -give me a lot o' them to deliver; this one must have slipped down the -crack between the cushions an' got overlooked. We come across it this -mornin' when we was washin' the buckboard, so I drove over with it on me -way home from the marketin'. I hope that it ain't important, and that ye -won't feel called upon to tell Miss Carter? It would get me into -trouble, ma'am." - -Her face had cleared slightly during this recital; it was evident that -she knew about the garden party, and had entertained emotions over the -absence of her own invitation. She saw fit now to work off her stored-up -anger upon the delinquent. Peter knew his place, and respectfully -swallowed the scolding, but he did it with a cordial assent to Miss -Ethel's description of the lady's character. She ended by bidding him -wait for an answer. He heard her say, as she swept down the veranda: - -"Excuse me a moment while I answer this note. It's from Ethel Carter, -Jerome Carter's daughter, you know"--evidently this was a name to -conjure with--"an invitation to meet Lord Kiscadden. It should have come -three days ago, but their man stupidly forgot to deliver it. He is -begging me not to report him, though I feel that such carelessness -really ought to be punished." She rustled on into the house, and Peter -sat for twenty minutes flicking the flies from Trixy's legs. - -"An' she's a daughter o' Tim McGarrah!" he repeated to himself. There -had been nothing snobbish about Tim; he was hail-fellow-well-met with -every voter east of Broadway. "She's ashamed of him now," Peter -reflected, "and won't let on she ever heard the name; but the old man -was ten times more a gentleman than his daughter is a lady, for all his -saloon!" - -His cogitations came to an end as Mrs. Booth-Higby rustled back, a -delicately tinted envelope in her hand and a more indulgent smile upon -her lips. - -"There are to be theatricals?" she inquired, in a note of forgiveness. - -"I believe so, ma'am." - -"Is Lord Kiscadden to take part?" - -"Can't say, ma'am." - -Peter, as scene-shifter, had had ample opportunity to study Lord -Kiscadden's interpretation of the character of George Washington--his -lordship, with a fine sense of humour, had himself selected the -rôle--but at mention of the name, Peter's face was blank. - -"Is he to remain much longer at Jasper Place?" she persisted. - -"Haven't heard him say, ma'am." - -She abandoned her pursuit of news, handed him the note, and graciously -added ten cents. - -Peter touched his hat gravely, murmured, "Thank ye, ma'am," and drove -away. At the foot of the lawn the Booth-Higby peacock--supposedly a -decoration for the Italian garden, but given to wandering out of -bounds--trailed its plumage across his path. Peter shied his ten cents -at the bird's head, with the muttered wish that the coin had been large -enough really to accomplish damage. - -The day of the garden party showed a clear sky above, and Peter was up -with the dawn and at work. Miss Ethel had appointed him her right-hand -man, and though he had the entire stable and house force to help him, he -found the responsibility wearing. He was feeling what it was to be a -Captain of Industry. He superintended the raising of a supper tent on -the lawn, strung coloured electric bulbs among the branches of the -trees, saw the furniture moved out of the drawing-room and a hundred -camp chairs moved in. He spent the afternoon shifting scenery for the -dress rehearsal; but finally, close upon six, he shoved Plymouth Rock -back into place for the first tableau, and, with a sigh of relief, -turned toward the kitchen. He felt that he had earned a fifteen-minutes' -chat with Annie. - -But fresh trouble awaited him. He found Mrs. Carter and Nora in anxious -consultation. The ice-cream had not come; and the expressman, who had -already met three trains, said that he could not deliver it now until -morning. - -Mrs. Carter pounced upon Peter. - -"Is Miss Ethel through with you? Then drive to the station immediately -and meet the six-twenty train. If it isn't on that, stop at Gunther's -and tell them they will _have_ to make me seven gallons of ice-cream -before ten o'clock to-night. It's disgraceful! I shall never engage -Perry to cater again. And tell the expressman that I consider him very -disobliging," she threw after him. - -An hour and a half later he dumped three kegs of ice and brine on the -back veranda, and was turning away, cheered by the near hope of his -long-postponed supper when Annie hailed him from the kitchen window. - -"Hey, Pete! Wait a minute. Miss Ethel said, as soon as you got back, for -me to send you to the library." - -"What are they wantin' now?" he growled. "I'll be glad when that -bloomin' young lord takes himself home to Ireland where he b'longs. -Between picnics an' ridin' parties an' clambakes an' theatricals, I -ain't had a chance to sit down since he come." - -Annie shoved a chair toward him. - -"Then now's your chance, for he's gone. A telegram came calling him -away, an' Mr. Harry's just back from motoring him to the station." - -"Praise be to the saints!" said Peter, and he turned toward the library -door. - -He found Miss Ethel, the two young ladies who were visiting her, and Mr. -Harry Jasper gathered in a pensive group before the gauze screen that -stretched across the front of the stage. - -"Here he is!" cried Miss Ethel, with an assumption of energy. "Put on -this hat and wig, Peter, and stand behind the screen. I want to see what -you look like." - -Peter apathetically complied. He had received so many extraordinary -commands during the past few days that nothing stirred his curiosity. - -"Bully!" said Mr. Harry. "Never'd know him in the world." - -"We'll lower the lights," said Miss Ethel. "Fortunately the gauze is -thick." - -"Peter," Mr. Harry faced him with an air of tragic portent, "a grave -calamity has befallen the state. The rightful heir has been spirited -away, and it's imperative that we find a substitute. I've often -remarked, Peter, upon the striking resemblance between you and Lord -Kiscadden. In that lies our only hope. It's a Prisoner of Zenda -situation. Often occurs in novels. Do you think it might be carried out -in real life?" - -"Can't say, sir," Peter blinked dazedly. - -"Be sensible, Harry!" Miss Ethel silenced him. "Peter, Lord Kiscadden -has been suddenly called away, and it spoils our tableaux for this -evening. Fortunately, he didn't have a speaking part. You've watched him -rehearse--do you think you could take his place?" - -"Don't believe I could, ma'am." Peter's face did not betray enthusiasm. - -"You'll _have_ to do it!" said Miss Ethel. "It's too late now to find -anyone else." - -"You're George Washington," Mr. Harry cut in. "Father of his country. -Only man on earth who never told a lie--no one will recognize you in -that part, Peter." - -"Here are the clothes." Miss Ethel bundled them into his arms. "You saw -Lord Kiscadden this afternoon, so you know how they go. Be sure you get -your wig on straight, and powder your face _thick_! It's half-past -seven; you will have to dress immediately." - -"I ain't had no supper," Peter stolidly observed. - -"Annie will give you something to eat in the kitchen. We won't tell -anybody except the few who are with you in the tableaux. The operetta -cast have never seen Lord Kiscadden, and won't know the difference. The -minute the tableaux are over you can disappear, and we will explain that -you have been suddenly called away." - -A slow grin spread over Peter's face. - -"Are ye wantin' me to talk like him?" he inquired. His lordship's idiom -had been the subject of much covert amusement among the servants; Peter -could mimic it to perfection. - -"I don't quite ask that," Miss Ethel laughed, "but at least keep still. -Don't talk at all except to us. You can pretend you are shy." - -"What did she want, Pete?" Annie inquired, with eager curiosity as he -reappeared. - -Peter exhibited his clothes. - -"Don't speak to me so familiar! I'm Lord Kiscadden o' County Cark. Me -family is straight descinded from the kings of Ireland, and I'm -masqueradin' as George Washington who never told a lie." - -An hour later, Peter, in knee breeches and lace ruffles, with hat -comfortably cocked toward his left ear, was sitting at ease on a corner -of the kitchen table, dangling two buckled shoes into space, while a -cigarette emerged at an acute angle from the corner of his mouth. His -appearance suggested a very rakish caricature of the immortal first -President. The maids were gathered in a giggling group about the young -man, when Miss Ethel and Mr. Harry, also in costume, appeared in the -kitchen door. The effect on George Washington was electrical; he removed -his cigarette, slid to the floor, straightened his spinal column, and -awaited orders. - -Mr. Harry carried a make-up box under his arm. He covered the groom's -face with a layer of powder, redirected the curve of his eyebrows, -added a touch of rouge, and stepped back to view the effect. - -"Perfect!" cried Miss Ethel. "No one on earth would recognize him." - -"Peter," Mr. Harry gravely schooled him, "these are your lines for the -evening; say them after me: 'By Jove! Ripping! Oh, I say! Fancy, now!'" - -Peter unsmilingly repeated his lesson. - -"And no matter what anybody says to you, you are not to go beyond that. -Understand?" - -"Yes, sir. I'll do me best, sir." There was an anxious gleam in Peter's -eye; he was suddenly being assailed by stage fright. - -"Your first appearance is in the fourth tableau, where you say good-bye -to your family before taking command of the army," Miss Ethel explained. -"The moment it's over slip out to change your costume, and stay out -until after the Declaration of Independence has been signed. Don't stand -around the wings where people can talk to you. Now go and wait in the -butler's pantry until you are called." - -Washington took an affecting leave of his family amid an interested -rustling of programmes on the part of the audience; no one was unaware -of the exalted identity of the hero. The applause was enthusiastic, and -the curtain was twice raised. As it fell for the last time a group of -historical personages from the operetta cast hovered about him with -congratulatory whispers. One or two were in the secret, but the rest -were not. Mr. Harry, as stage manager, waved them off. - -"Clear the boards for the next scene," he whispered hoarsely. "Here, -Kiscadden, you'll have to hurry and dress. You cross the Delaware in ten -minutes." With a hand on George Washington's shoulder he marched him -off. "That was splendid, Peter," Mr. Harry whispered, as he shunted him -into the butler's pantry. "Not a soul suspected. You stay here until you -are wanted." - -The Delaware was crossed without mishap, also the night watch kept at -Valley Forge. Washington and Lafayette crouched over their camp fire -amidst driving snow, while the audience shivered in sympathy. But -unluckily, these tableaux were followed by no change of costume, and -several others intervened before Peter's next appearance. As he was -anxiously trying to obliterate himself in the shadow of Plymouth Rock, -he heard some one behind him whisper: - -"Let's cut out and have a smoke. It's deucedly hot in here." - -He turned to find Miles Standish of the operetta cast, with an insistent -hand on his elbow. Miles Standish, in private life, was a young man -whose horse Peter had held many a time, and whose tips were always -generous. - -There seemed to be no polite means of escape, and Peter, with a -suppressed grin, followed his companion to the veranda. It was lighted -by a subdued glow from coloured lanterns, but there was an occasional -patch of dimness. He picked out a comfortable chair and shoved it well -into the shadow of a convenient palm. Standish produced -cigars--twenty-five-cent Havanas, Peter noted appreciatively--and the -two fell into conversation. Fortunately the young man aspired to the -reputation of a _raconteur_, and he willingly bore most of the burden. -Peter kept his own speeches as short as possible, manfully overcoming a -tendency to end his sentences with "sir." An occasional interpolation of -"By Jove!" or "I say!" in imitation of Lord Kiscadden's lazy drawl, was -as far as he was required to go. - -He came out of the encounter with colours still flying; but a perilous -ten minutes followed. As the two strolled back to the stage entrance, -they were intercepted by a gay group of Pilgrim maids. Peter had coped -successfully with one young man, but he realized that half a dozen -young ladies were quite beyond his powers of repartee. One of them threw -him a laughing compliment on his acting, and he felt himself growing -pink as he murmured with a spasmodic gulp: - -"Yes, ma'am. Thank ye, ma'am--I say!" - -The orchestra saved the situation by striking into a rollicking -quickstep that made talking difficult. The music in the end went to -Peter's heels; and grasping a blue and buff coat tail in either hand, he -favoured the company with an Irish jig. This served better than -conversation; the laughter and applause were uproarious, bringing down -upon them the wrath of the stage manager. - -"Here you people, _taisez-vous_! You're making such a racket they can -hear you inside. Ah, Kiscadden! You're wanted on the stage; it's time -for Cornwallis to surrender." Peter was marched out of danger's way. - -The surrender was followed by the operetta in which Miss Ethel was -heroine. Her own affairs claimed her, but she paused long enough to -whisper in George Washington's ear: - -"You may go now, Peter. You've done very nicely. Slip out through the -butler's pantry where no one will see you. Change into your own clothes -and help them in the kitchen about serving supper--but don't on _any_ -account step into the front part of the house again to-night." - -"Yes, ma'am," said Peter, meekly. - -He found the entrance to the butler's pantry blocked, and he dived into -the empty conservatory, intending to pass thence to the veranda, and so -get around to the kitchen the outside way. But as he reached the veranda -door he ran face to face into Mrs. Booth-Higby. Peter quickly backed -into a fern-hung nook to let her pass. The light was dim, but his -costume was distinctive; after a moment of hesitating scrutiny she bore -down upon him. - -"Oh, it's George Washington!--Lord Kiscadden, I should say. I see by the -programme that your part is finished. It was so frightfully warm inside -that I slipped out to get a breath of air. May I introduce myself? I am -Mrs. Booth-Higby, of Red Towers. I trust that you will drop in often -while you are in the neighbourhood. I have so wanted to have a chance to -talk to you because you come from Ireland--dear old Ireland! I am Irish -myself on the side that isn't Colonial, and I have a warm spot in my -heart for everything green." - -Peter manfully bit back the only observation that occurred to him while -the lady rattled on: - -"My Irish connection is three generations back--a younger son, you know, -who came to make his way in a new land, and, having married into one of -the old Colonial families, settled for good. But once Irish, always -Irish, I say. My heart warms to the little ragamuffins in the street if -they have a bit of the brogue. It's the call of the blood, I suppose. -Shall we sit here? Or perhaps you have an engagement--don't let me keep -you----" - -He summoned what breath was left and confusedly murmured: "Oh, I say! -Ripping!" - -They settled themselves on a rustic bench, and Peter, possessing himself -of her fan, slowly waved it to and fro in the nonchalant manner of Mr. -Harry. Mrs. Booth-Higby, fortunately, was no less garrulous than Miles -Standish had been, and she rattled on gaily, barely pausing for her -companion's English interpolations. - -Peter's feelings were divided. He had the amused consciousness that he -was being flirted with by the lady who, three days before, had so -condescendingly given him ten cents. And he also had a chilly -apprehension of the storm that would rise if by any mischance she -discovered the hoax. But his fighting blood was up, and he was excited -by past success. He abandoned his interjections and, venturing out for -himself, recounted an anecdote of a fellow countryman in an excellent -imitation of Irish brogue. The effort was received with flattering -applause. After all, he reassured himself, this was not his funeral, -Miss Ethel and Mr. Harry must bear all blame; with which care-free -shifting of responsibility he settled himself to extract what amusement -there might be in the situation. - -The curtain finally fell on the last act of the play, and a shuffling of -feet and moving of chairs betokened that a general exodus would follow. -Peter came back with a start to a realization of his predicament. While -confidence in his powers of simulation had been rising steadily during -the past half-hour, he still doubted his ability to deal with the -audience _en masse_. - -But fortunately, the first two to appear in the conservatory were Miss -Ethel and Mr. Harry, engaged entirely with their own affairs, all -thought of the pseudo Kiscadden put from their minds. As they became -aware of the couple in the fernery, they stopped short with a gasp of -surprise. - -"Why, Pet----" Miss Ethel caught herself, and summoning a cordial tone -added quickly: "Lord Kiscadden! A telegram came a long time ago--I -thought you had received it? I'm afraid they stopped the boy in the -kitchen." - -"Oh, I say, by Jove! Fancy now!" George Washington jumped hastily to his -feet. "Pleased to know ye, ma'am," he added with a farewell duck of his -head; and without waiting for further words, he vaulted the veranda -railing and disappeared around the corner of the house. He lingered a -moment in the shrubbery to hear her say: - -"Lord Kiscadden and I have been having such an interesting evening! What -a delicious accent he has! You must bring him to Red Towers, Mr. Jasper. -I feel that he really belongs to me more than to you; we have discovered -that we are distant connections. It seems that his grandmother, the -third Lady Kiscadden, was a McGarrah before she married. My own family -name was McGarrah, and----" - -Peter put his hand over his mouth to stifle his feelings, and reeled -toward the kitchen porch. - -An hour later, when supper was finished, Miss Ethel and Mr. Harry Jasper -slipped away from the guests and turned toward the kitchen. They paused -for a moment in the butler's pantry, arrested by the sound of Peter's -voice as he discoursed in his richest brogue to an appreciative group of -maids. His theme was the Daughters of the Revolution--he had evidently -kept his ears open during his brief introduction to society. - -"Me father was a Malone, an' me mother was a Haggerty. The family -settled in America in 1620 B. C., all me ancistors on both sides bein' -first-cabin passengers on the _Mayflower_. We're straight discinded from -Gov'nor Bradford, an' me fifth great-grandfather was the first man hung -in the United States. Malone's a Scotch name--it used to be Douglas, but -it got changed in the pronouncin'--an' Haggerty is Frinch. I'm eligible -on both sides, an' me mother was a charter member. Yes, 'tis a great -society; the object of it is to keep the country dimocratic." - -They pushed open the door and entered. Peter, restored to his own -clothes, was seated before the kitchen table engaged, between sentences, -with a soup plate full of ice-cream. He shuffled hastily to his feet as -the two appeared, and with a somewhat guilty air studied their faces. He -was trying to remember what he had said last. - -"Peter," Miss Ethel's voice was meant to be severe, "what have you been -telling Mrs. Booth-Higby?" - -Peter shifted his weight anxiously from one foot to the other. - -"Nothin', ma'am." - -"Nothing--nonsense! She is going about telling everybody that she is -Lord Kiscadden's cousin. She never made up any such impossible story as -that without help." - -Miss Ethel's manner was sternly reproving, but Peter caught a gleam of -malicious amusement in her eye. It occurred to him that she was not -averse to an exhibition of Mrs. Booth-Higby's folly before Mr. Harry -Jasper. - -"I wasn't to blame, Miss Ethel. I couldn't get out by the butler's -pantry like ye told me because the Hartridge family was blockin' the -way, and I knew they'd recognize me if I come within ten feet. So I -thinks to meself, I'll go through the conservatory; but just as I -reaches the door I runs plumb into Mrs. Booth-Higby. - -"'Oh, me dear Lord Kiscadden,' she says, 'you was the b'y I was wantin' -to see! I must tell ye,' she says, 'how I've enjoyed yer actin'; 'twas -great,' she says, 'ye was the best person in the whole show.' An' wid -that she puts a hand on me arm an' never lets go for an hour and a -quarter--ye know, Mr. Harry, how graspin' she is." - -Peter appealed to him as one man to another. - -"She begun with askin' about me estate in dear old Ireland. Bein' only -eighteen months old when I left it, I couldn't remember many details, -but I used me imagination an' done the best I could. I told her there -was two lions sittin' on the gate-posts holdin' me coat-of-arms in their -paws; I told her there was two towers to the castle, and a peacock -strollin' on the lawn; an' then f'r fear she'd be gettin' suspicious, I -thought to change the subject. 'Yes, 'tis a beautiful house,' I says, -'but it ain't so grand as some. The biggest place in the neighbourhood,' -I says, 'is Castle McGarrah'--the name just popped into me head, Miss -Ethel. - -"'McGarrah!' she says, 'that is me own name.' - -"'The divvil!' thinks I. 'I've put me foot in it now.' But 't was too -late to go back. 'Possibly the same family,' says I, politely. 'The -present owner, Sir Timothy McGarrah----' - -"'Timothy!' she says, 'that was me father's name, an' me grandfather's -before him.' - -"'There's always one son in ivery gineration that carries it,' says I. - -"'Can it be possible?' she murmurs to herself. - -"'Me own grandmother was a daughter to the second Sir Timothy,' I says, -'him as quarrelled with his youngest son an' drove him from home. Some -says he went to Australia, an' some that he come to America. 'Twas fifty -years ago, an' all trace is lost o' the lad.' - -"An' with that she says solemn like, 'The b'y was me grandfather! I see -it all--he was a silent man an' he niver talked of his people; but I -always felt there was a secret a preyin' on his mind. An' by that token -we're cousins,' she says. 'I must insist that ye make Red Towers yer -home while ye stay in America. Me husband,' she says, 'will enjoy yer -acquaintance.' - -"An' while I was tryin' to tell her polite like that 't would be a -pleasure, but unfortunately me engagements would require me presence in -another place, you an' Mr. Harry come walkin' into the conservatory, and -I made me escape." - -"What ever possessed you to tell such outrageous lies?" Miss Ethel -gasped. - -"'Twas the clothes that done it, ma'am; bein' dressed as George -Washington, I couldn't think o' nothin' true that was fit to say." - -Miss Ethel dropped limply into a chair, and leaning her head on the -back, laughed until she cried. - -"Peter," she said, wiping the tears from her eyes, "I don't see but what -I shall have to discharge you. I should never dare let you drive past -Mrs. Booth-Higby's again." - -"There's nothin' to fear," said Peter, tranquilly. "She won't recognize -me, ma'am. Mrs. Booth-Higby's eyes ain't focussed to see a groom." - - - - -VIII - -A USURPED PREROGATIVE - - -Peter scooped a quart of oats into a box, took out the bottle of -liniment the veterinary surgeon had left, and started, grumbling, for -the lower meadow. Trixy had hurt her foot, and it was Billy's fault. A -groom who knew no better than to tie a horse to a barbed-wire fence on a -day when the flies were bad, ought, in Peter's estimation, to be -discharged. - -He had some trouble in catching Trixy and applying the liniment, but he -finally accomplished the matter, and dropped down to rest in the shade -of the straggling hedge that divided the grounds of Willowbrook from -Jasper Place. He lighted his pipe and fell to a lazy contemplation of -the pasture--his thoughts neither of Trixy nor the cows nor anything -else pertaining to his duties, but now as always playing with a -glorified vision of Annie, the prettiest little parlour-maid in the -whole wide world. He was completely lost to his surroundings, when the -sound of pistol shots on the other side of the hedge recalled him to the -present with a jerk. - -"What are them young devils up to now?" he muttered, as he raised -himself to look through the branches. - -A group of boys was visible down on the Jasper beach, firing, somewhat -wildly, toward a target they had set up on the bank. Peter squinted his -eyes and peered closely; one of the boys was Bobby Carter, and Peter -more than suspected that the revolver was his father's. The boy had been -strictly forbidden to play with firearms, and Peter's first impulse was -to interfere; but on second thoughts he hesitated. Bobby was very -recently thirteen, and was feeling the importance of no longer being a -little boy. He would not relish being told to come home and mind his -father. - -While Peter stood hesitating, a sudden frightened squawk rang out, and -he saw one of Mr. Jasper's guinea fowls fly a few feet into the air and -plump heavily to the ground. At the same instant Patrick appeared at the -top of the meadow, bearing down upon the scene of the crime, shouting -menacingly as he advanced. The boys broke and ran. They came crashing -through the hedge a few feet from Peter and made for cover in a clump of -willows. Peter recognized them all--Bobby and Bert Holliday and the two -Hartridge boys, the latter the horror of all well-regulated parents. He -saw them part, the two Hartridge boys heading for the road, while Bobby -and Bert Holliday turned toward the house, keeping warily under the -bank, Bobby buttoning the revolver inside his jacket as he ran. Peter -crouched under the branches and laid low; he had no desire to be called -into the case as witness. - -Patrick panted up to the hedge and surveyed the empty stretch of meadow -with a disappointed grunt. He caught a glimpse of the Hartridge boys as -they climbed the fence into the high-road, but they were too far off for -recognition. He mopped his brow and lumbered back to examine the body of -the guinea fowl. Poor Patrick was neither so slender nor so young as -when he entered Mr. Jasper's service twenty years before; as he daily -watched Peter's troubles across the hedge, he thanked the saints that -the Jasper family contained no boys. - -Peter waited till Patrick was well out of sight, when he rose and turned -back toward the stables. He met Bobby and Bert Holliday in the lane, -armed with a net, a basket, and a generous hunk of raw meat. - -"Hello, Pete!" Bobby hailed him cheerily. "We're going crabbing, Bert -and me. If you hear Nora asking after some soup meat that strayed out of -the refrigerator, don't let on you met it." - -"Trust me!" said Peter with an answering grin; but he turned and looked -after the boys a trifle soberly. - -Bobby's escapade with the revolver was on a different plane from such -mild misdemeanours as abstracting fishing bait from the kitchen. Peter -felt keenly that Mr. Carter ought to know, but he shrank from the idea -of telling. For one thing, he hated tale-bearing; for another, he had a -presentiment as to the direction Bobby's punishment would take. - -As an indirect result of his thirteenth birthday, the boy was to have a -new horse--not another pony, but a grown-up horse--provided always that -he was good. Mr. Carter, being occupied with business out of town, had -not been able to give the matter his immediate attention; and poor Bobby -had been dwelling on the cold heights of virtue for nearly a month. He -had undergone, a week or so before, a mild attack of three-day measles -which he had borne with a sweet gentleness quite foreign to his nature. -Peter had openly scouted the doctor's diagnosis of the case. - -"Rats!" he remarked to Annie, after viewing the boy's speckled surface. -"That ain't measles. It's his natural badness working out. I knew it -weren't healthy for him to be so good. If Mr. Carter don't make up his -mind about that horse pretty soon the boy'll go into a decline." - -But at last the question was on the point of being settled. Mr. Carter, -having visited every horse dealer in the neighbourhood, had, in his -carefully methodical manner, almost made up his mind. The choice was a -wiry little mustang, thin-limbed and built for running; he could give -even Blue Gypsy some useful lessons in speed, and she had a racing -pedigree four generations long. Peter had fallen in love with the -mustang; he wanted it almost as much as Bobby. And he realized that -these next few days were a critical period; if the boy were discovered -in any black offence, the horse would be postponed until his fourteenth -birthday. His father had an unerring sense of duty in the matter of -punishments. - -It was Saturday and Mr. Carter would be out on the noon train. Peter -drove to the station to meet him, still frowning over the question of -Bobby and the revolver. He finally decided to warn the boy; there would -be time enough to speak if the offence were repeated. Mr. Carter proved -to be in an unusually genial frame of mind. He chatted all the way out -on matters pertaining to the stables; and as they drew up at the -_porte-cochère_ he paused to ask: - -"Ah, Peter, about this new mustang for Master Bobby, what do you think?" - -"He's a fine horse, sir, though I suspicion not too well broke. But he's -got a good pair o' legs--I should say two pair, sir--an' sound wind. -That's the main thing. We can finish his trainin' ourselves." - -"Then you advise me to get him?" - -"I should say that ye wouldn't be makin' no mistake. I'll be glad, sir, -to see Master Bobby with a horse of his own. He's gettin' too heavy for -Toddles." - -"Very well. I'll do it. You may have Blue Gypsy saddled immediately -after luncheon and I will ride over to Shannon Farms and close the -deal." - -At two o'clock Blue Gypsy stood pawing impatiently before the library -door with Peter soothingly patting her neck. Mr. Carter paused on the -steps to survey her shining coat with the complaisant approval of -ownership. - -"Pretty good animal, isn't she, Peter?" - -"She is that," said Peter, heartily. "You'd search a long time -before----" - -His sentence broke down in the middle as his eye wandered to the stretch -of lawn beyond the hedge. Patrick was visible hurrying toward them, a -white envelope waving in his hand, plainly bent on gaining the hole in -the hedge and Mr. Carter's side before that gentleman's departure. -Peter tried to cover his slip and induce his master to mount and ride -off; but it was too late. - -"Here, Peter, just hold her a minute longer. I think that note is for -me." - -Patrick with some difficulty squeezed himself through the hole--it had -been made originally by Mr. Harry so that he might run over and call on -Miss Ethel without having to go around; and Mr. Harry was thin. Patrick -emerged with hair awry and puffing. He stood anxiously mopping his brow -while Mr. Carter read the note. Peter likewise eyed his master with a -touch of anxiety; he had a foreboding that the contents of the letter -meant no good to the cause of the new mustang. - -Mr. Carter ran his eye down the page with a quickly gathering frown and -then faced the man. - -"You saw my son shoot the guinea fowl?" - -"No, sir--that is, sir, I ain't sure. Mr. Jasper he asked me who I -thought the boys was, and I told him I didn't get close enough to see, -but I fancied one was Bobby Carter, because they run this way, and I -thought I recognized Master Bobby's legs as he crawled under the hedge. -I told Mr. Jasper it was only guess, but he was mad because she was one -of his prize hens, and he said he'd just drop a line to you and let you -investigate. It was dangerous, he said, if Master Bobby was playin' with -firearms, and you'd ought to know it." - -"Yes, certainly; I understand." - -Mr. Carter raised his voice and called to the boy who was visible -sprawling on a bench by the tennis-court. - -"Bobby! Come here." - -He pulled himself together with obedient haste and advanced to meet his -father, somewhat apprehensively, as his eye fell upon Patrick. - -"Bobby, here is a note from Mr. Jasper. He says that some boys were -shooting at a target on his beach this morning and killed one of his -prize guinea fowls. He is not sure, but he thinks that you may have been -one of them. How about it?" - -Bobby looked uncomprehending for a moment while he covertly studied -Patrick. The man's air was apologetic; his accusation was evidently -based upon suspicion rather than proof. - -"I went crabbing with Bert Holliday this morning," said Bobby. - -"Ah!" his father's face cleared, though he still maintained his stern -tone. "I gave you strict orders, you remember, never to touch my -revolver when I was not with you?" - -"Yes, father." - -"You never have touched it?" - -"No." Bobby's tone was barely audible. - -"Speak up! I can't hear you." - -"No!" snapped Bobby. - -"Don't act that way. I am not accusing you of anything. I merely wish to -know the truth." Mr. Carter turned to Patrick, who was nervously -fumbling with his hat. "You see, Patrick, you were mistaken. Tell Mr. -Jasper that I am sorry about the guinea fowl, but that Master Bobby had -nothing to do with the shooting." - -He dismissed the man with a nod, and mounted and rode away. - -Peter watched him out of sight, then he turned and crossed the lawn to -the tennis-court. Bobby was back on his bench again engaged in carving -his name on the handle of a racket, though his face, Peter noted, did -not reflect much pleasure in the work. He glanced up carelessly as Peter -approached, but as he caught the look in his eye, he flushed quickly, -and with elaborate attention applied himself to shaping a "C." - -Peter sat down on the end of the bench and regarded him soberly. He was -uncertain in his own mind how he ought to deal with the case, but that -it must be dealt with, and drastically, he knew. Peter was by no means -a Puritan. The boy could accomplish any amount of mischief--go crabbing -instead of to Sunday-school, play fox and geese over the newly sprouted -garden, break windows and hotbeds, steal cake from the pantry and -peaches from Judge Benedict's orchard, and Peter would always shield -him. His code of morals was broad, but where he did draw the line he -drew it tight. Bobby's sins must be the sins of a gentleman, and Peter's -definition of "gentleman" was old fashioned and strict. - -Bobby grew restless under the silent scrutiny. - -"What do you want?" he asked crossly. "If you don't look out you'll make -me cut my hand." - -He closed the large blade with an easy air of unconcern, and opening a -smaller one, fell to work again. The knife was equipped with five blades -and a corkscrew; it was one of the dignities to which Bobby had attained -on his recent birthday. Peter stretched out his hand and, taking -possession of the knife, snapped it shut and returned it. - -"Put it in yer pocket an' pay attention to me." - -"Oh, don't bother, Pete. I'm busy." - -"Your father will be home before long," said Peter, significantly. - -"Well, fire ahead. What do you want?" - -"Ye told a lie--two o' them, to be accurate. Ye were one o' them boys -that shot the chicken an' ye did have the pistol." - -"I didn't shoot his old chicken; it was Bert Holliday. And anyway he -didn't mean to; it flew straight in front of the target just as he -fired." - -"He had no business to be firin'. But it's not the chicken I'm mournin' -about; it's the lie." - -"It's none of your business," said Bobby, sullenly. - -"Then I'll make it me business! Either ye goes to yer father an' tells -him ye lied, or I will. Ye can take yer choice." - -"Peter," Bobby began to plead, "he'll not give me the mustang--you know -he won't. I didn't mean to touch the revolver, but Bert forgot his air -rifle, and the boys were waiting to have a shooting match. I won't do it -again--honest, Peter--hope to die." - -"It ain't no use, Master Bobby. Ye can't wheedle me. Ye told a lie an' -ye've got to be punished. Gentlemen don't tell lies--leastways, not -direct. They hires a lawyer like Judge Benedict to do it for them. If ye -keep on ye'll grow to be like the Judge yerself." - -Bobby smiled wanly. The Judge, as Peter knew well, was his chiefest -aversion, owing to an unfortunate meeting under the peach trees. - -"You've told lots of lies yourself!" - -"There's different kinds o' lies," said Peter, "an' this is the kind -that I don't tell. It ain't that I'm fond o' carrying tales," he added, -"but that I wants to see ye grow up to be a thoroughbred." - -Bobby changed his tactics. - -"Father'll feel awfully bad; I hate to have him find it out." - -Peter suppressed a grin. - -"Boys ought always to be considerate o' their fathers' feelin's," he -conceded. - -"And you know, Pete, that you want me to have the mustang. You said -yourself that it was a shame for a big boy like me to be riding -Toddles." - -Peter folded his arms and studied the distance a moment with thoughtful -eyes; then he faced his companion with the air of pronouncing an -ultimatum. - -"I'll tell ye what I'll do, Master Bobby, since ye're so anxious to save -yer father's feelin's. I'll agree not to mention the matter, an' ye can -take yer punishment from me at the end of a strap." - -Bobby stared. - -"Do you mean," he gasped, "that you want to whip me?" - -"Well, no, I can't say as I _want_ to, but I think it's me dooty. If ye -was a stable-boy and I caught ye in a lie like that, I'd wallop ye till -ye couldn't stand." - -"I never was whipped in my life!" - -"The more reason ye need it now. I've often thought, Master Bobby, that -a thorough lickin' would do ye good." - -Bobby sprang to his feet. - -"Tell him if you want. I don't care!" - -"Just as ye please. He's over to Shannon Farms now buyin' the mustang. -When he gets back an' finds his son is a liar and a coward, he'll be -returnin' that horse by telephone." - -Bobby's flight was suspended while he hung wavering between indignation -and desire. - -"There it is," said Peter. "I won't go back on me word. Either ye keeps -a whole skin an' rides Toddles another year, or ye takes yer lickin' -like a man an' gets the horse. Ye can have an hour to think it over." - -He rose and sauntered unconcernedly toward the stables. Bobby stared -after him, several different emotions struggling for supremacy in his -freckled face; then he plunged his hands deep into his pockets and -turned down the lane with an attempt at a swagger as he passed the -stable door. At the paddock gate Toddles poked his shaggy little head -through the bars and whinnied insistently. But Bobby, instead of -bestowing the expected lump of sugar, shoved him viciously with his -elbow and scuffed on. He seated himself precariously on the top rail of -the pasture fence and fell to digging holes in the wood with his new -knife, cogitating meanwhile the two alternatives he had been invited to -consider. - -They appealed to him as equally revolting. Only that morning he had -carelessly informed the boys that his father was going to buy him a -mustang--a brown and white circus mustang that was trained to stand on -its hind legs. The humiliation of losing the horse was more than he -could face. Yet, on the other hand, to be beaten like a stable-boy for -telling a lie! He had boasted to the Hartridge boys, who did not enjoy -such immunity, that he had never received a flogging in his life. He -might have stood it from his father--but from Peter! Peter, who had -always been his stanchest ally, who, on occasion, had even deviated from -the strict truth himself in order to shield Bobby from justice. The boy -already had his full quota of parents; he did not relish having Peter -usurp the rôle. - -For thirty minutes he balanced on the fence, testing first one then the -other of the horns of his dilemma. But suddenly he saw, across the -fields where the high-road was visible, a horse and rider approaching at -a quick canter. He slid down and walked with an air of grim resolution -to the stables. - -Peter was in the harness-room busily engaged in cleaning out the closet. -The floor was a litter of buckles and straps and horse medicine. - -"Well?" he inquired, as Bobby appeared in the door. - -"You can give me that licking if you want," said Bobby, "but I tell you -now, _I'll pay you back_!" - -"All right!" said Peter, cheerfully, reaching for a strap that hung -behind the door. "I'm ready if you are. We'll go down in the lower -meadow where there won't be no interruption." - -He led the way and Bobby followed a dozen paces behind. They paused in a -secluded clump of willows. - -"Take yer coat off," said Peter. - -Bobby cast him one appealing glance, but his face was adamant. - -"Take it off," he repeated. - -Bobby complied without a word, his own face growing white. - -Peter laid on the strap six times. He did not soften the blows in the -slightest; it was exactly the same flogging that a stable-boy would have -received under the same circumstances. Two tears slipped down Bobby's -cheeks, but he set his jaw hard and took it like a man. Peter dropped -the strap. - -"I'm sorry, Master Bobby. I didn't like it any better than you, but it -had to be done. Are we friends?" he held out his hand. - -"No, we're not friends!" Bobby snapped. He turned his back and put on -his coat; then he started for the house. "You'll be sorry," he threw -over his shoulder. - -During the next few days Bobby ignored Peter. If he had any business in -the neighbourhood of the stables he addressed himself ostentatiously to -one of the under men. The rupture of their friendship did not pass -unmarked, though the grooms soon found that it did not pay to be -facetious on the subject. Billy, in return for some jocular comments, -spent an afternoon in adding a superfluous lustre to already brilliant -carriage lamps. - -The mustang arrived, was christened Apache, and assigned to a box stall. -He possessed a slightly vicious eye and a tendency to buck, as two of -the grooms found to their cost while trying to ride him bareback in the -paddock. Peter shook his head dubiously as he watched the unseating of -the second groom. - -"We'll put a curb bit on that horse. I don't just like his looks for a -youngster to ride." - -"Huh!" said Billy, "Master Bobby ain't such a baby as everybody thinks; -he can manage him all right." - -Word came out from the house that afternoon that Bobby was to try the -new mustang. Billy saddled the horses--Apache, and Blue Gypsy for Miss -Ethel, and a cob for Peter--and led them out, while Peter in his most -immaculate riding clothes swaggered after. The maids were all on the -back porch and the family at the _porte-cochère_ to watch the departure. -Bobby would accept no assistance, but mounted from the ground with a -fine air of pride. Apache plunged a trifle, but the boy was a horseman -and he stuck to his saddle. - -"Be careful, Bobby," his mother warned. - -"You needn't worry about me," Bobby called back gaily. "I'm not afraid -of any horse living!" - -Blue Gypsy never stood well, and Miss Ethel was already off. Bobby -started to follow, but he wheeled about to say: - -"You come, Billy; I don't want Peter." - -"Bobby, dear," his mother expostulated, "you don't know the horse; it -would be safer----" - -"I want Billy! I won't go if Peter has to come tagging along." - -Peter removed his foot from the stirrup and passed the horse over to the -groom. The cavalcade clattered off and he walked slowly back to the -stables. He felt the slight keenly. He could remember when he had held -Bobby, a baby in short dresses, on the back of his father's hunter, when -he had first taught the little hands to close about a bridle. And now, -when the boy had his first horse, not to go! Peter's feeling for Bobby -was almost paternal; the slight hurt not only his pride but his -affections as well. - -He spent an hour puttering about the carriage room, whistling a cheerful -two-step and vainly pretending to himself that he felt in a cheerful -frame of mind. Then suddenly his music and his thoughts were interrupted -by the ringing of the house telephone bell, long and insistently. He -sprang to the instrument and heard Annie's voice, her words punctuated -by frightened sobs. - -"Oh, Pete! Is that you? Something awful's happened. There's been an -accident. Master Bobby's been throwed. The doctor's telephoned to get a -room ready and have a nurse from the hospital here. You're to hitch up -Arab as fast as you can and drive to the hospital after her. Oh, I hope -he won't die!" she wailed. - -Peter dropped the receiver and ran to Arab's stall. He led him out and -threw on the harness with hands that trembled so they could scarcely -fasten a buckle. - -"Why can't I learn to mind me own business?" he groaned. "What right -have I to be floggin' Master Bobby?" - -The young woman whom Peter brought back decided before the end of the -drive that the man beside her was crazy. All that she could get in -return for her inquiries as to the gravity of the accident was the -incoherent assertion: - -"He's probably dead by now, ma'am, and if he is it's me that done it." - -As they turned in at the Willowbrook gate Peter strained forward to -catch sight of the house. A strange coupé was drawn up before the -_porte-cochère_. He involuntarily pulled Arab to a standstill and looked -away, but the nurse reached out and grasped the reins. - -"Here, man, what is the matter with you? Hurry up! They may want me to -help get the boy in." - -Peter drove on and sat staring woodenly while she sprang to the ground -and hurried forward. Mrs. Carter and the maids were gathered in a -frightened group on the steps. He could hear Miss Ethel inside the -carriage calling wildly: - -"Do be quick! His head has commenced to bleed again." - -The driver climbed down to help the doctor lift him out. They jarred him -going up the steps and he moaned slightly. Peter cursed the man's clumsy -feet, though not for worlds could he himself have stirred to help them. -The boy's head was bandaged with a towel, and he looked very limp and -white, but he summoned a feeble smile at sight of his mother. They -carried him in and the servants crowded after in an anxious effort to -help. - -Peter drove on to the stables and put up Arab. In a few minutes Billy -returned leading the two horses. He was frightened and excited; and he -burst into an account of the accident while he was still half way down -the drive. - -"It wasn't my fault," he called. "Miss Ethel said it wasn't my fault. -We met a mowing-machine and Apache bolted. He threw the boy off against -a stone wall, and by the time I reached 'em, Apache was eating grass in -the next field and Master Bobby lying in the ditch with 'is head cut -open." - -"I don't want to hear about it," Peter returned shortly. "Put them -horses up and get out." - -He himself removed Apache's new saddle and bridle and drove him with a -vicious whack into the stall. Billy took himself off to find a more -appreciative audience, while Peter dropped down on a stool inside the -stable door, and with his chin in his hands sat watching the house. He -saw the nurse fling wide the blinds of Bobby's room and roll up the -shades; he wondered with a choking sensation what they were doing to the -boy that they needed so much light. He saw Annie come out and hang some -towels on the line. The whole aspect of the place to Peter's sharpened -senses wore an air of tragic bustle. No one came near to tell him how -the boy was doing; he had not the courage to go to the house and ask. He -sat dumbly waiting for something to happen while twilight faded into -dusk. One of the stableboys came to call him to supper and he replied -crossly that he didn't want any supper. Presently he heard a step -scrunching on the gravel, and he looked up to find Annie coming toward -him. - -"Is--is he dead?" he whispered. - -"He's not goin' to die. He's feelin' better now; they've sewed up the -hole in his head. The doctor did it with a thread an' needle just like -you'd sew a dress. He took ten stitches an' Master Bobby bled awful. He -never cried once, though; he just got whiter an' whiter an' fainted -away. Don't feel so bad, Pete, he's goin' to get well." - -She laid her hand caressingly on his hair and brushed it back from his -forehead. He caught her hand and held it. - -"It's me that's to blame for his gettin' hurt. He won't never speak to -me again." - -"Yes, he will; he's wantin' to speak to you now. They sent me out to -fetch you." - -"Me?" he asked, shrinking back. "What's he wantin' with me?" - -"He's been out of his head an' callin' for you; he won't go to sleep -till he sees you. The doctor said to fetch you in. Come on." - -Annie's manner was insistent and Peter rose and followed her. - -"Here he is," she whispered, pushing him ahead of her into the darkened -room. - -Bobby made a half movement to turn as the door creaked, but a quick pain -shot through his shoulder and he fell back with a little gasp. - -"Take care, Bobby," the nurse warned. "You mustn't move or you will hurt -that bad arm." Her greeting to Peter was stern. "You may stay five -minutes, and mind you don't get him excited!" She bent over the boy to -loosen the bandage about his shoulder. - -"You go out," said Bobby, querulously. "I want to see Peter alone." - -"Yes, dear," she patted the bedclothes indulgently. "Remember, five -minutes!" she added as she closed the door. - -The two left alone stared at each other rather consciously for a moment. -They both felt that the occasion demanded something heroic in the way of -a reconciliation, but it was the natural instinct of each to fly from -sentiment. The sight of Bobby's pale face and bandaged head, however, -had their effect on Peter's already overwrought nerves. - -"I'm a blunderin' fool!" he groaned. "I don't know why I can't never -learn to attend to me own affairs. If I'd told yer father, as was me -dooty, he'd never uv given ye that spotted devil of a horse." - -"You aren't to blame, Pete. I guess I was hurt for more punishment -'cause I didn't take the first in the right spirit." He fumbled under -his pillow and drew out the new five-bladed knife. "This is for a -remembrance, and whenever you use it you will think 'it was me that -cured Bobby Carter of telling lies.'" - -Peter received the gift with an air of hesitation. - -"I don't like to take it," he said, dubiously, "though I have a feelin' -that perhaps I ought, for with five blades to choose from ye'll be -cuttin' yer blamed young throat--I'd hate to be the cause of any more -accidents." He balanced it thoughtfully in his palm. "But I'm thinkin," -he added softly, "that the corkscrew might be doin' as much damage to me -as the five blades to you." - -Bobby grinned appreciatively, and held out his uninjured left hand. - -"Pete," he said, "if I promise never, never to tell any more lies, will -you promise never, never to use that corkscrew?" - -"It's a bargain!" said Peter, grasping the boy's hand. "And I'm glad -that we're friends again." - -They stared at each other solemnly, neither thinking of anything further -to add, when Peter suddenly became aware of the ticking of the clock. - -"Holy Saint Patrick!" he ejaculated. "Me five minutes was up five -minutes ago. I must be takin' me leave or that commandin' young woman -will come back and eject me." - -He moved toward the door, but paused to throw over his shoulder: - -"I'd already promised the same to Annie, so ye needn't be takin' too -much credit to yerself fer me conversion." - - - - -IX - -MRS. CARTER AS FATE - - -As the summer wore to an end, the course of affairs between Peter and -Annie became a matter of interested comment among the other servants. -They had all seen Peter recover from many incipient attacks of love, but -this they unanimously diagnosed as the real thing. Joe and his wife -talked the matter over upon his return from the hospital, and decided -that the time had definitely come for the livery stable; Peter, in all -fairness, had served as groom long enough. They would move out of the -coachman's cottage the following spring, and give the young people a -chance. Thus was the way open for a happy conclusion, and everyone was -preparing to dance at the wedding, except Peter and Annie themselves. -They alone were not certain as to the outcome. Neither was quite -comfortably sure that the other was in earnest, and when it came to the -point they were both a little shy. Annie, with laughing eyes, tempted -Peter at every point, but when he showed a disposition to control -matters himself, she precipitously fled. - -The two were standing on the back veranda one moonlight night, and Annie -was engaged in pointing out to Peter the lady in the moon. Peter was -either stubborn or stupid; he frankly declared that he saw no "loidy," -and didn't believe there was one. In her zeal in the cause of astronomy, -Annie unwarily bent her head too near, and while her eyes were turned to -the moon, Peter kissed her. She slapped him smartly, as a -well-brought-up young woman should, and fled into the house before he -could catch her. Peter, strong in his new-found courage, waited about in -the hope that she would reappear; but she did not, and he finally took -himself off to his room over the carriage-house, where he sat by the -window gazing out at the moonlight for two hours or more before he -remembered to go to bed. The slap had hurt neither him nor his feelings; -he liked her the better for it. She wasn't really mad, he reflected -happily, for she had laughed as she banged the door in his face. - -The next morning Peter went about his work with a singing heart and many -a glance toward the kitchen windows. He swashed water over the stable -floor and rubbed down the horses with a mind happily intent upon what he -would say to Annie when he saw her. About ten o'clock Mrs. Carter -ordered the victoria, but as the carriage horses were at the shop being -shod, Joe sent Peter in to ask if Trixy and the phaeton would do as -well. - -Peter dropped his sponge and started for the house at exactly the wrong -moment for his future peace of mind. He arrived at the kitchen door just -in time to see the man from the grocery put his packages on the table -and his arms around Annie, and kiss her with a smack that resounded -through the room and would, to Peter's outraged senses, resound through -all time. Annie turned with a startled cry, and as her gaze fell upon -Peter, her face paled before the look in his eyes. Without a word he -whirled about and strode back to the stables with white lips and -clenched fists, and murder in his heart for the grocer's man. He did not -hear what Annie said to him, nor did he know that she locked herself in -her room and cried; what he did know was that she had been making a fool -of him, and that she flirted with every man who came along, and that -that wasn't the kind of a girl he wanted to do with. - -Several days before, as Peter was driving Mr. Lane, who was visiting at -Willowbrook again, and Master Bobby to the village, Annie had been -sweeping the front veranda as they passed, and had thrown a friendly -smile in the direction of the cart. The smile was intended for Peter, -but Mr. Lane had caught it, and had remarked to Bobby: - -"That's a deuced pretty maid you've got there." - -"Annie's the bulliest maid we ever had," Bobby had returned -appreciatively. "She swipes cake for me when Nora isn't looking." - -But Peter had frowned angrily, as he longingly sized up Mr. Lane, and -wished he were not a gentleman so that he could punch him. It was none -of Mr. Lane's business whether Annie was pretty or not. - -At that time Annie could do no wrong, and Peter had not thought of -blaming her for Mr. Lane's too-open admiration, but now he wrathfully -accused her of trying to flirt with gentlemen, than which, in Peter's -estimation, she could do no worse. As he could take it out of neither of -them in blood--which his soul thirsted for--he added it to the grocer's -score, and his fingers fairly itched to be at work. The grocer was just -the sort of man that he most enjoyed pummelling--big and florid, with -curling hair, a black moustache, and a dimple in his chin. - -Annie, after her _contretemps_ with the grocer, passed a miserable day. -In vain she tried to get a word with Peter; he was not to be seen. Billy -was the groom who came to the house on all further errands from the -stables. That evening she put on her prettiest frock and sat for two -hours on the top step of the back veranda with her eyes turned -expectantly toward the carriage-house, and then she went to bed and -cried. Had she but known it, Peter was in a vacant lot back of Paddy -Callahan's saloon, blissfully remodelling the features of the grocer's -man. - -Annie passed a wakeful night, and the next morning she swallowed her -pride and went to the stables in the hope of seeing Peter alone. Peter, -too, in spite of his victory of the evening, had kept vigil through the -night. He was listlessly currying one of the carriage horses when he -saw Annie leave the house and come slowly down the walk toward the -stables. His heart suddenly leaped to his mouth, but a moment later he -was bending over the horse with his back to the door, whistling as -merrily as though he had not a care in the world. He heard Annie's -hesitating step on the threshold, and he smiled grimly to himself and -whistled the louder. - -"Pete, I'm wantin' to speak to you, if ye're not busy." - -Peter glanced up with a well-assumed start of surprise. He looked Annie -over, slowly and deliberately, and then turned back to the horse. - -"Aw, but I am busy," he returned. "Lift up!" he added to the horse, and -he solicitously examined her foot. - -Annie waited patiently, struggling between a sense of pride which urged -her to go back and never speak to Peter again, and a sense of shame -which told her that she owed him an explanation. - -"Pete," she began, and there was a little catch in her voice which went -to Peter's heart; in his effort to resist it and mete out due punishment -for all the misery she had caused him, he was harder than he otherwise -would have been. "Pete, I wanted to be tellin' ye that it wasn't my -fault. He--he niver kissed me before, and I didn't know he was goin' to -then." - -Peter shrugged. - -"Ye needn't be apologizin' to me. I ain't interested in yer amoors. If -ye wants to be apologizin' to any one go an' do it to his wife." - -"His wife?" asked Annie. - -"Aye, his wife an' his three childern." - -"I didn't know he was married," said Annie, flushing again, "but 'tis no -difference, for it weren't my fault. I niver acted a bit nicer to him -than to anny other man, an' that's the truth." - -"Oh, ye're a lovely girl, ye are! Flirtin' around with other women's -husbands, and lettin' every fool that comes along kiss ye if he wants -to." - -"Ye needn't talk," cried Annie. "Ye did it yerself, an' ye're no better -than the grocer man." - -"An' do ye think I'd a-done it if I hadn't knowed ye was willin?" - -Annie backed against the wall, and with flushed cheeks and blazing eyes, -stared at him speechlessly, angry with herself at her powerlessness to -say anything that would hurt him enough. As she stood there, Master -Bobby and Mr. Lane came in on their way to visit the kennels. Mr. Lane -looked curiously from the angry girl to the nonchalant groom, who had -resumed his work, and was softly whistling under his breath. Master -Bobby, being intent only upon puppies, passed on without noticing the -two, but Mr. Lane glanced back over his shoulder at Annie's pretty -flushed face, and paused to ask: - -"My dear girl, has that fellow been annoying you?" - -"No, no!" Annie said wildly. "Go away, Mr. Lane, please." - -Mr. Lane glanced from one to the other with a laugh. "Ah, I see! A -lovers' quarrel," and he followed Master Bobby. - -Peter echoed his laugh, and in a tone which would have justified Mr. -Lane in knocking him down had he heard. - -"So ye're his dear girl too, are ye? He's a nice gentleman, he is! Ye -ought to be proud o' him." - -Annie straightened herself with her head thrown back. - -"Peter Malone," she burst out, "I came here to 'pologize, 'cause, -without meanin' any harm, I thought as I'd hurt yer feelin's an' was -owin' an explanation. I niver had anything to do with that groc'ry man -nor any other man, an' ye know it as true as ye're standin' there. -Instead o' believin' what I say like a gentleman would, ye insult me -worse than anybody's iver done in the whole o' me life, an' I'll niver -speak to ye again as long as I live." She choked down a sob, and with -head erect turned and walked back to the house. - -The two had had differences before, but never anything like this. Peter, -his arms dropped limply at his side, stood watching her go, while the -words she had spoken rang in his ears. Suddenly a lump rose in his -throat, and he leaned his head against the horse's neck. - -"Lord!" he whispered. "What have I done?" - - -The week which followed was one of outward indifference and inward -misery to both. Annie mourned when alone, but under the eyes of the -stables she flirted openly and without conscience with one of the -painters who was opportunely engaged in re-staining the shingle roof of -the Jasper house. Peter watched her with a heavy heart, and formed a -brave determination never to think of her again, and ended by thinking -of her every minute of the day. He made one awkward attempt at -reconciliation which was spurned, whereupon he, too, plunged into a -reckless flirtation with Mary, the chambermaid, who was fat, and every -day of thirty-five. As neither Peter nor Annie had any means of knowing -how wretched this treatment was making the other, they got very little -comfort from it. - - -Annie sat at the kitchen table polishing silver with a sober face. It -was six days since the grocery man's historic visit, and the war clouds -showed no sign of lifting. There was a houseful of company at -Willowbrook, and the work was mercifully distracting. Mary, this -morning, had hung a long row of blankets and curtains on the line to -air, for the sole purpose, Annie knew, of being near the stables. Peter -was visible through the open window, greasing harness in the -carriage-house doorway, and exchanging jocular remarks with Mary. -Annie's eyes were out of doors oftener than upon her work. Nora, who -was sitting on the back veranda shelling peas, remarked on Peter's newly -awakened interest in the chambermaid, but as Annie did not answer, she -very wisely changed the subject. - -"I guess that Mr. Lane what's visitin' here has got a heap o' money," -she called in tentatively. - -"I guess he has," Annie assented indifferently. - -"He seems to be pretty taken up with Miss Ethel. That was an awful -becomin' pink dress she had on last night. Mrs. Carter would be pleased -all right." - -Annie received this remark in silence, but Nora was not to be -discouraged. She felt that this new freak of taciturnity on Annie's part -was defrauding her of her rights. A maid whose duties call her to the -front part of the house is in a position to supply more accurate gossip -than it is given a cook to know, and it is her business to supply it. - -"Mr. Harry would feel awful, havin' growed up with her like," Nora -continued. "He's a sight the best lookin' o' the two, and I'm thinkin' -Miss Ethel knows it. It ud be convenient, too, havin' the places joined. -The Jaspers has got money enough, an' him the only son. I guess they -wouldn't starve if she did marry him. I've always noticed 'tis the -people who has the most money as needs the most. I don't think much o' -that Mr. Lane," she added. - -Annie suddenly woke up. - -"I don't neither. 'Tis too fresh he is." - -"That's what I'm thinkin' meself," said Nora, cordially. "An' I guess so -does Mr. Harry. I'm after observin' that he hasn't been around much -since Mr. Lane's been here." - -Annie's mind had wandered again. Her own affairs were requiring so much -attention lately that Miss Ethel's were no longer a source of interest. -Out in the stable Peter was proclaiming, in tones calculated to reach -the kitchen, "There's only one girl in this world for me." Annie's lip -quivered slightly as she heard him; a week before she had laughed at the -same song, but as affairs stood now, it was insulting. - -The peas finished, Nora gathered the yellow bowl under her arm and -returned to the kitchen, where she concentrated her attention upon Annie -and the silver. - -"I'm thinkin' ye must be in love!" she declared. "Ye've cleaned that -same spoon three times while I've been watchin', an' ye didn't count the -plates right last night for dinner, an' ye forgot to give 'em any butter -for breakfast." - -Annie blushed guiltily at this damning array of evidence, and then she -laughed. "If it's in love I am whiniver I forget things, then I must -a-been in love since I was out o' the cradle." - -"An' there's him as would be in love with you, if ye'd only act dacent -to him--and I'm not meanin' the painter." - -Annie chose to overlook this remark, and Nora's sociability was -suppressed by the entrance of Mrs. Carter. - -"We have decided to have a picnic supper at the beach to-night, Nora," -she said. "You will not have to get dinner for anyone but Mr. Carter." - -"Very well, ma'am." - -"I am sorry that it happens on your afternoon out, Annie," she added, -turning to the maid, "but I shall need you at the picnic to help about -serving." - -"Certainly, ma'am," said Annie. "I don't care about goin' out anyway." - -"We shall start early in the afternoon, but I want you to wait and help -Nora with the sandwiches, and then Peter can drive you out about six -o'clock in the dog-cart." - -Annie's face clouded precipitously. - -"Please, ma'am," she stammered, "I think--that is, if ye please----" she -hesitated and looked about desperately. "I'm afraid if ye're after -wantin' coffee, I can't make it right. I'm niver sure o' me coffee two -times runnin', and I should hate to be spoilin' it when there's company. -If ye could take Nora instead o' me, ma'am, I could just be gettin' the -lovely dinner for Mr. Carter when he comes." - -"Why, Annie," she remonstrated, "you've always made excellent coffee -before, and Nora doesn't wait on the table. Is it because you want to go -out this afternoon? I am sorry, but you will have to wait until Miss -Ethel's guests have gone." - -"No, ma'am," said Annie, hastily, "I'm not wantin' the afternoon, an' -it's willin' I am to help Miss Ethel, only--only--will you tell Peter, -ma'am, about the cart?" she finished lamely, "'cause if I tell him he's -likely to be late." - -Mrs. Carter passed out of the kitchen door and crossed the lawn toward -the stables, casting meanwhile a sharp eye about the premises to be sure -that all was as it should be. Mary was shaking blankets with an air of -deep absorption; Peter was industriously cleaning the already clean -harness, and Joe could be heard inside officiously telling Billy to -grease the other wheel and be quick about it. Unless Mrs. Carter -approached very quietly indeed, she always found her servants oblivious -to everything but their several duties. As she drew near the doorway, -Peter rose from the harness and respectfully touched his cap with a very -dirty hand, while the coachman, with a final order over his shoulder to -a brow-beaten stable-boy, came forward hastily, and stood at attention. - -"Joe, we are going to have a picnic at the beach this afternoon, and I -want you to have the horses ready at three o'clock. Miss Ethel, Mr. -Lane, and Master Bobby will ride, and you will drive the rest of us in -the waggonette." - -"Very well, ma'am," said Joe. - -"And Peter," she added, turning to the groom, "I want you to bring out -the supper with Trixy and the dog-cart at five o'clock." - -"All right, ma'am," said Peter, saluting. - -"Be sure to be on time," she warned. "Stop at the kitchen for Annie and -the hampers promptly at five." - -Peter's face suddenly darkened. He drew his mouth into a straight line, -and looked sullenly down at the harness. "Beggin' yer pardon, ma'am," he -mumbled, "I don't think--that is----" He scowled defiance at Joe, who -grinned back appreciatively. "If it's just the same to ye, ma'am, I'd -like to drive the waggonette an' let Joe fetch the lunch. If I'm to be -coachman, ma'am, I'd sort o' like to get used to me dooties before he -goes." - -Mrs. Carter was frankly puzzled; she could not imagine what had suddenly -got into her servants this morning. A lady who has a grown daughter, of -some attractions and many admirers, to chaperone, cannot be expected to -keep _au courant_ of her servants' love affairs. - -"You have had a month in which to get used to your duties while Joe was -in the hospital; that is sufficient for the present. Joe will drive the -waggonette and you will follow with the supper--I wish you to help Tom -put new netting in the screen-doors this afternoon." - -Her tone precluded argument. As soon as she was out of hearing, Joe -remarked softly, "Now, if she'd only said Mary instead of Annie I -'spose----" - -"Aw, let up," Peter growled, and he fell to rubbing in the grease with -unnecessary vehemence. His misunderstanding with Annie was a subject he -would stand no fooling about, even from his chief. - -At five o'clock, Peter, in a spotless top-hat and shining boots, looking -as stiff as if he were clothed in steel armour, drew up before the -kitchen door and piled the hampers and pails he found on the back -veranda onto the seat beside him. He climbed to the box again with an -air of finality, and gathering his reins together made a feint of -starting. - -"Peter!" Nora called from the kitchen window. "Where is it ye're goin'? -Wait for Annie." - -"Annie?" Peter looked as if he had never heard the name before. - -"Yes, Annie. Did ye think ye was to cook the supper yerself?" - -"I didn't think nothin'," said Peter. "Me orders was to stop for the -lunch at five o'clock, an' I done it. If she wants to come along she'll -have to sit on the back seat. I ain't a goin' to change these baskets -again." - -Annie appeared in the doorway in time to hear this ungracious speech; -she clambered up to the somewhat uncomfortable footman's seat in -silence, and they drove off back to back, as stiff as twin ramrods. - -The cart rolled along over the smooth roads, past country clubs and -summer cottages, and the only sign either of the two gave of being -alive was an occasional vicious crack of the whip from Peter when -patient little Trixy showed signs of wishing to take a quieter pace. At -such times Annie would instinctively stretch out a deterring hand and -form her mouth as if to say, "Please, Pete, don't whip her; she's doin' -her best," and then suddenly remembering that formidable vow, would -straighten up again and stare ahead with flushed cheeks. - -The beach was five miles away, and there is an element of ludicrousness -in the spectacle of two people in one small dog-cart riding five miles -without speaking. Annie's sense of humour was keen; it struggled hard -with her sense of wrong. She was never an Indian to cherish vengeance; -her anger could be fierce at the moment, but it rarely lasted. And Peter -was sorry for what he had said, she reminded herself; he had already -tried to make up. By the end of the second mile two dimples appeared in -her cheeks. At the third mile she shut her mouth tight to keep a laugh -from escaping. At the fourth mile she spoke. - -"Say, Pete, why don't ye talk to me? Are ye mad?" - -Peter had been gazing at Trixy's ears with an air of deep preoccupation, -and he came back to the present with a start of surprise, apparently -amazed at finding that he had a companion in the cart. - -"Ma'am?" he said. - -Annie glanced around at his uncompromising back. - -"Why don't ye say somethin'?" she repeated more faintly. - -"I ain't got nothin' to say." - -Annie's dimples gave way to an angry flush. Never, never, never again -would she say a thing to him as long as she lived. The remainder of the -drive was passed in a tumultuous silence. Peter, with grim mouth, kept -his unseeing eyes on the road in front, and Annie, with burning cheeks, -stared behind at the cloud of dust. - -When the cart arrived among the straggling cedar trees which bordered -the beach, they found drawn up beside the Carter horses, Mr. Harry's -hunter and a strange drag which betokened impromptu guests. Annie had -barely time to wonder if the plates would go around and if there would -be salad enough, when the cart was welcomed with joyful shouts by a -crowd of hungry picnickers. She caught a glimpse on the edge of the -group of Miss Ethel, debonair and smiling, in another new dress, with -Mr. Lane scowling on one side of her and Mr. Harry on the other. -Ordinarily, she would have taken a lively interest in such a situation, -and would have had an appreciative fellow-feeling for Miss Ethel; but -she saw it now with an unhappy sense that the blessings of this world in -the shape of dresses and men are unevenly distributed. - -Annie usually accepted the pranks of the young ladies and gentlemen in -good part, no matter how much extra trouble they caused; but to-day as -she caught a plundering hand on one of the hampers, she called out -sharply: - -"Master Bobby, you let that cake alone! Them olives are for supper." - -A general laugh greeted this outburst, and she turned away and began -unpacking dishes with a bitter feeling of rebellion. Mrs. Carter bustled -up, and having driven off the marauders, briskly took command. - -"Now, Peter, as soon as you have hitched Trixy, come back and help about -the supper. Annie will tell you what to do." - -Annie cheered up slightly at this, and for the moment waived the letter -of her vow. As Peter reluctantly reappeared, she ordered: "Get a pile o' -drift wood and fix a place for the fire. Them are too big," she -commented, as he returned with an armful of sticks. "Get some little -pieces and be quick about it; you're too slow." - -Peter looked mutinous, but the eyes of Mrs. Carter were upon him, and he -obeyed. - -"Now, take those two pails and go to the farm-house for water," Annie -ordered. - -When he returned with the two heavy pails, cross and splashed, she -fished out a bug or two with an air of dissatisfaction, and told him to -build the fire. Peter built the fire, and, at Annie's suggestion, held -the coffee-pot to keep it steady. He burnt his hands, and swore softly -under his breath, and Annie laughed. Mrs. Carter, having started -preparations, suddenly recalled her duties as hostess and hurried off -again, leaving Annie to superintend the remainder alone. - -"Here, Peter," said Annie, "I want ye to open these cans o' sardines." - -Peter looked after the retreating figure of Mrs. Carter. She was well -out of hearing; he took from his pocket a cigarette and leisurely -regarded it. - -"I want these cans opened," Annie repeated more sharply. - -Peter lighted his cigarette. - -"I'll tell Mrs. Carter if ye don't." - -Peter threw himself down on the grass, and blowing a ring of smoke, -looked dreamily off toward the ocean. - -Mrs. Carter showed no signs of coming back, and Annie saw that her brief -dominion was over. She picked up the can-opener and jabbed it viciously -into the tin. It slipped and cut an ugly gash in her finger. She uttered -a little cry of pain, and turned pale at sight of the blood, and Peter -laughed. She turned her back to keep him from seeing the tears of anger -that filled her eyes, and for the third time she solemnly swore never, -never, _never_ to speak to him again. - -The two served the supper with the same grim silence behind the scenes -that they exhibited before the guests. When it was over, instead of -eating with Joe and Peter, Annie commenced gathering up the dishes and -repacking them in the hampers ready for departure. The two men laughed -and joked between themselves, without taking any notice of her absence, -and Annie angrily told herself that she wouldn't speak to Joe any more, -either. Just as she had everything packed and was comforting herself -with the thought that she would soon be back home, and the miserable day -would be ended, Mrs. Carter reappeared. - -"Your coffee was excellent, Annie," she said, pleasantly, "and you and -Peter served very nicely indeed. And now, instead of going home, I -should like to have you wait and make some lemonade to be served later -in the evening. It will be a beautiful moonlight night, and you and -Peter can stay and enjoy yourselves." - -"Very well, ma'am," said Annie, dully. - -Peter, at this news, lighted another cigarette and strolled off with -Joe, while Annie, who was growing apathetic under a culmination of -troubles, busied herself in making the lemonade, and then sat down by -her baskets to wait. She could see through the gathering dusk the merry -crowd upon the beach, as they scattered about gathering driftwood for a -fire. She heard every now and then, above the sound of the waves, a gay -shout of laughter, and, nearer at hand, the restless stamping of the -horses. She turned her back to the beach half pettishly, and sat -watching Mr. Harry's sorrel as he nervously tossed his head and switched -his tail, trying to keep off the sand flies. From that she fell to -wondering how Mr. Harry happened to be there, and what Mr. Lane thought -about it, and if there would be a fight. There probably would not, she -reflected, with some regret, for gentlemen did not always fight when -they should. (She had heard through the butcher's boy the story of -Peter's prowess, and the knowledge had given some slight comfort.) Her -reflections were suddenly interrupted by the sound of steps crashing -toward her through the underbrush, and she looked up with a fast-beating -heart. Her first thought was that it was Peter coming to make up, and -she resolutely stiffened herself to withstand him, but a second glance -showed her that it was Mr. Lane. - -"Where's Joe?" he demanded. - -"I don't know, Mr. Lane." - -"Where's Peter, then?" - -"I don't know. The two o' them hasn't been here since supper." - -"Well, damn it! I've got to find some one." Mr. Lane was evidently -excited. "See here, Annie," he said, "you're a good girl. Just give a -message to Mrs. Carter from me, will you, please? Tell her a boy rode -out on a bicycle with a telegram calling me back to New York -immediately, and I had to ride back to the house without finding her in -order to catch the ten-o'clock train. Don't say anything to Miss Ethel, -and here's something to buy a new dress. Good-bye." - -"Thank you, sir. Good-bye." - -He hastily rebuckled his horse's bridle, led him into the lane out of -sight of the beach, and mounted and galloped off. Annie looked after -him with wide eyes; his bearing was not very jaunty; she wondered if Mr. -Harry had whipped him. It did not seem likely, for Mr. Lane was the -larger of the two; but for the matter of that, she reflected, so was the -grocer's man larger than Peter. She did not understand it, but she -slipped the bill into her pocket with a shrug of her shoulders. She -could afford to be philosophic over other people's troubles. - -It was growing dark in among the trees and she was beginning to feel -very lonely. A big red moon was rising over the water, and a bright fire -was crackling on the beach. The sound of singing was mingled with the -beating of the surf. Annie wandered out from the shadow of the trees and -strolled up the beach away from the camp-fire and the singers. Presently -she dropped down in the shadow of a sand dune and sat with her chin in -her hands pensively watching the black silhouettes against the fire. By -and by she saw two figures strolling along the beach in her direction. -She recognized them as Miss Ethel and Mr. Harry, and she crouched down -behind the dune until they passed. She felt lonelier than ever as she -watched them disappear, and the first thing she knew, she had buried her -head in her arms and was crying to herself--but not very hard, for she -was mindful of the ride home, and she did not wish to make her eyes red. -Not for the world would she have let Peter know that she felt unhappy. - -Suddenly into the midst of her misery came the sound of scrunching sand -and the smell of cigarette smoke. Then, without looking up, she felt -that some one was standing over her and that that some one was Peter. -She held her breath and waited like a little ostrich, with her head -burrowed into the sand. - -Peter it was, and a mighty struggle was going on within his breast, but -love is stronger than pride, and his Irish heart conquered in the end. - -He bent over and touched her shoulder lightly. - -"Annie!" he whispered. - -She held her breath and kept her face hidden. - -He dropped on his knee in the sand beside her. "Annie, darlin', don't be -cryin'. Tell me what's the trouble." He forcibly transferred her head -from the sand bank to his shoulder, and her tears trickled down his -neck. "Is it yer finger that's hurtin' ye?" - -She raised a tear-stained face with a quick smile quivering through at -this purely masculine suggestion. - -"It's not me finger; it's me feelin's," she breathed into his ear. Peter -tightened his arms around her. "But they're not hurtin' any more," she -added with a little laugh. - -"An' this time we'll be friends f'r always?" - -She nodded. - -"Gee!" he whispered. "I've been spendin' the week in hell thinkin' ye -didn't care nothin' for me." - -"So uv I," said Annie. - -As they sat watching the rippling path of moonlight on the water, from -far down the beach they could hear the voices singing, "It's the spring -time of life and the world is all before us." Annie laughed happily as -she listened. - -"I was wishin' a while ago that I was Miss Ethel 'cause she has -everything she wants, but I don't wish it any more. She hasn't got you, -Petey." - -"And I'm thinkin' she isn't wantin' me," said Peter, with his eyes on -the beach above them, where Miss Ethel and Mr. Harry were coming toward -them hand in hand. The two stopped suddenly as they caught sight of -Annie and Peter and hastily dropped each others' hands. Then Miss Ethel -ran forward with a conscious little laugh. - -"Annie, you shall be the first to congratulate me--but it's a secret; -you mustn't tell a soul." - -Annie looked back with shining eyes. "I'm engaged, too," she whispered. - -"You dear!" said Miss Ethel, and she put her arm around her and kissed -her. - -Peter and Mr. Harry stood a moment eyeing each other awkwardly, then -they reached out across the gulf that separated them and shook hands. - - - - -X - -A PARABLE FOR HUSBANDS - - -Blue Gipsy's filly had broken two pairs of shafts, kicked a hole through -a dash-board, and endeavoured to take a fence carriage and all, in a -fixed determination not to become a harness-horse. It was evident that -she had chosen her career and meant to stick to it. - -"Break her to the shafts if you have to half kill her," Mr. Harry had -said, but there were some things that Mr. Harry did not understand so -well as Peter. - -"Where's the use in spoilin' a good jumper for the sake o' makin' a poor -drivin' horse?" Peter had asked the trainer, and he had added that the -master was talking through his hat. - -Peter had already explained the matter to Mr. Harry, but Mr. Harry was -very much like the filly; when he had made up his mind he did not like -to change. Peter decided to talk it over once more, however, before he -risked another groom. The first groom had dislocated his shoulder, and -he refused to have any further intercourse with Blue Gypsy's filly. - -Poor Peter felt himself growing old under the weight of his -responsibilities. Three years before he had been a care-free groom at -Willowbrook; now, since Miss Ethel had married Mr. Harry, he was -coachman at Jasper Place, with seven horses and three men under him. -Occasionally he gazed rather wistfully across the meadow to where the -Willowbrook stables showed a red blur through the gray-green trees. He -had served there eleven years as stable-boy and groom, and though he had -more than once tasted the end of a strap under Joe's vigorous dominion, -it had been a happily irresponsible life. Not that he wished the old -time back, for that would mean that there would be no Annie waiting -supper for him at night in the coachman's cottage, but he did wish -sometimes that Mr. Harry had a little more common sense about managing -horses. Blue Gypsy's filly trotting peaceably between shafts! It was in -her blood to jump, and jump she would; you might as well train a bull -pup to grow up a Japanese poodle and sleep on a satin cushion. - -Peter, pondering the matter, strolled over to the kitchen and inquired -of Ellen where Mr. Harry was. Mr. Harry was in the library, she said, -and Peter could go right through. - -The carpet was soft, and he made no noise. He did not mean to listen, -but he had almost reached the library door before he realized and then -he stood still, partly because he was dazed, and partly because he was -interested. - -He did not know what had gone before, but the first thing he heard was -Miss Ethel's voice, and though he could not see her, he knew from the -tone what she looked like, with her head thrown back and her chin up and -her eyes flashing. - -"I am the best judge of my own actions," she said, "and I shall receive -whom I please. You always put the wrong interpretation on everything I -do, and I am tired of your interfering. If you would go away and leave -me alone it would be best for us both--I feel sometimes as though I -never wanted to see you again." - -Then a long silence, and finally the cold, repressed tones of her -husband asked: "Do you mean that?" - -She did not answer, except by a long indrawn sob of anger. Peter had -heard that sound before, when she was a child, and he knew how it ought -to be dealt with; but Mr. Harry did not; he was far too polite. - -After another silence he said quietly: "If I go, I go to stay--a long -time." - -"Stay forever, if you like." - -Peter turned and tiptoed out, feeling unhappy and ashamed, as he had -felt that other time when he had overheard. He went back to the stables, -and sitting down with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, -he pondered the situation. If he were Mr. Harry for just ten minutes, he -told himself fiercely, he would soon settle things; but Mr. Harry did -not understand. When it came to managing horses he was too rough, as if -they had no sense; and when it came to managing women, he was too easy, -as if they were all sense. Peter sighed miserably. His heart ached for -them both: for Miss Ethel, because he knew that she did not mean what -she said, and would later be sorry; for Mr. Harry, because he knew that -he did mean what he said--terribly and earnestly. Neither understood the -other, and it was all such a muddle when just a little common sense -would have made everything happy. Then he shrugged his shoulders and -told himself that it was none of his business; that he guessed they -could make up their quarrels without help from him. And he fell to -scolding the stable-boy for mixing up the harness. - -In about half an hour, Oscar, the valet, came running out to the stables -looking pleased and excited, with an order to get the runabout ready -immediately to go to the station. Oscar was evidently bursting with -news, but Peter pretended not to be interested, and kept on with his -work without looking up. - -"The master's going in to New York and I follow to-night with his -things, and to-morrow we sail for England! Maybe we'll go from there on -a hunting trip to India--I'm to pack the guns. There's been trouble," he -added significantly. "Mrs. Jasper's in her room with the door banged -shut, and the master is pretty quiet and white-like about the gills." - -"Shut up an' mind yer own business," Peter snapped, and he led out the -horses and began putting on the harness with hands that trembled. - -As he drew up at the stepping-stone, Mr. Harry jumped in. "Well, -Peter," he said, in a voice which was meant to be cheerful, but was a -very poor imitation, "we must drive fast if we're to make the -four-thirty train." - -"Yes, sir," said Peter, briskly clicking to the horses, and for once he -thanked his stars that the station was four miles away. A great resolve -had been growing in his mind, and it required some time and a good deal -of courage to carry it out. He glanced sideways at the grim, pale face -beside him, and cleared his throat uneasily. - -"Beggin' yer pardon," he began, "I was at the library door to ask about -the filly, an' without meanin' to, I heard why you was goin' away." - -A quick flush spread over Mr. Harry's face, and he glanced angrily at -his coachman. - -"The devil!" he muttered. - -"Yes, sir," said Peter. "I suppose ye'll be dischargin' me, Mr. Harry, -for speakin', but I feel it's me dooty, and I can't keep quiet. Beggin' -yer pardon, sir, I've knowed Miss Ethel longer than you have. I was -servin' at Willowbrook all the time that ye was in boardin' school an' -college. Her hair was hangin' down her back an' she was drivin' a pony -cart when I first come. I watched her grow and I know her ways--there -was times, sir, when she was most uncommon troublesome. She's the kind -of a woman as needs managin', and if ye'll excuse me for sayin' so, it -takes a man to do it. Ye're too quiet an' gentleman-like, Mr. Harry. -Though I guess she likes to have ye act like a gentleman, when ye can't -do both she'd rather have ye act like a man. If I was her husband----" - -"You forget yourself, Peter!" - -"Yes, sir. Beg yer pardon, sir, but as I was sayin', if I was her -husband, I'd let her see who was master pretty quick, an' she'd like me -the better. And if she ever told me she would be glad for me to go away -an' never come back, I'd look at her black like with me arms folded, -and I'd say: 'Ye would, would ye? In that case I'll stay right here an' -niver go away.' An' then she'd be so mad she'd put her head down on the -back o' the chair an' cry, deep like, the way she always did when she -couldn't have what she wanted, an' I'd wait with a frown on me brow, an' -when she got through she'd be all over it, an' would ask me pardon -sorrowful like; an' I'd wait a while an' let it soak in, an' then I'd -forgive her." - -Mr. Harry stared at Peter, too amazed to speak. - -"Yes, sir," Peter resumed, "I've watched Miss Ethel grow up, and I knows -her like her own mother, as ye might say. I've drove her to and from the -town for thirteen years, and I've rode after her many miles on -horseback, an' when she felt like it she would talk to me as chatty as -if I weren't a groom. She was always that way with the servants; she -took an interest in our troubles, an' we all liked her spite o' the -fact that she was a bit over-rulin'." - -Mr. Harry knit his brows and stared ahead without speaking, and Peter -glanced at him uneasily and hesitated. - -"There's another thing I'd like to tell ye, sir, though I'm not sure how -ye'll take it." - -"Don't hesitate on my account," murmured Mr. Harry, ironically. "Say -anything you please, Peter." - -"Well, sir, I guess ye may have forgotten, but I was the groom ye took -with ye that time before ye was married when ye an' Miss Ethel went to -see the old wreck." - -Mr. Harry looked at Peter with a quick, haughty stare; but Peter was -examining the end of his whip and did not see. - -"An' ye left me an' the cart, sir, under the bank, if ye'll remember, -an' ye didn't walk far enough away, an' ye spoke pretty loud, and I -couldn't help hearin' ye." - -"Damn your impertinence!" said Mr. Harry. - -"Yes, sir," said Peter. "I never told no one, not even me wife, but I -understood after that how things was goin'. An' when ye went away -travellin' so sudden, I s'picioned ye wasn't feelin' very merry over the -trip; an' I watched Miss Ethel, and I was sure she wasn't feelin' merry, -for all she tried mighty hard to make people think she was. When they -was lookin', sir, she laughed an' flirted most outrageous with them -young men as used to be visitin' at Willowbrook, but I knew, sir, that -she didn't care a snap of her finger for any o' them, for in between -times she used to take long rides on the beach, with me followin' at a -distance--at a very respectful distance; she wasn't noticin' my troubles -then, she had too many of her own. When there weren't no one on the -beach she'd leave me the horses an' walk off by herself, an' sit on a -sand dune, an' put her chin in her hand an' stare at the water till the -horses was that crazy with the sand flies I could scarcely hold 'em. An' -sometimes she'd put her head down an' cry soft like, fit to break a -man's heart, and I'd walk the horses off, with me hands just -itchin'--beggin' yer pardon, sir, to get a holt o' you, for I knew that -ye was the cause." - -"You know a great deal too much," said Mr. Harry, dryly. - -"A groom learns considerable without meanin' to, and it's lucky his -masters is if he knows how to keep his mouth shut. As I was sayin', Mr. -Harry, I knew all the time she was longin' for ye, but was too proud to -let ye know. If ye'll allow the impertinence, sir, ye made a mistake in -the way ye took her at her word. She loved ye too much not to be willin' -to forgive ye for everything; and if ye'd only understood her an' -handled her right, she wouldn't 'a' throwed ye over." - -"What do you mean?" - -"I mean, if ye'll excuse me speakin' allegorical like, as she's the kind -of a woman as needs a sharp bit and a steady hand on the bridle, an' -when she bolts a touch o' the lash--not too much, for she wouldn't stand -it, but enough to let her see who's master. I've known some women an' -many horses, sir, an' I've noticed as the blooded ones is alike in both. -If ye 'll excuse me mentionin' it, Miss Ethel was badly broke, sir. She -was given the rein when she needed the whip, but for all that, she's a -thoroughbred, sir, an' that's the main thing." - -Peter imperceptibly slowed his horses. - -"If ye don't mind, Mr. Harry, I'd like to tell ye a little story. It -happened six or seven years ago when ye was away at college, and if Miss -Ethel is a bit unreasonable now, she was more unreasonable then. It was -when the old master first bought Blue Gypsy--as was a devil if there -ever was one. One afternoon Miss Ethel takes it into her head she wants -to try the new mare, so she orders her out, with me to follow. What does -she do but make straight for the beach, sir, an' gallop along on the -hard sand close to the water-line. It was an awful windy day late in -October, with the clouds hangin' low an' the waves dashin' high, and -everything sort o' empty an' lonesome. Blue Gypsy wasn't used to the -water, an' she was so scared she was 'most crazy, rearin' an' plungin' -till ye would a swore she had a dozen legs--not much of a horse for a -lady, but Miss Ethel could ride all right. She kept Blue Gypsy's head to -the wind an' galloped four or five miles up the beach, with me poundin' -along behind, hangin' on to me hat for dear life. - -"'Twas ebb-tide, but time for the flood, and I was beginning to think -we'd better go back, unless we wanted to plough through the loose -shingle high up, which is mighty hard on a horse, sir. But when we come -to the Neck, Miss Ethel rode straight on; I didn't like the looks of it -much, but I didn't say nothin' for the Neck's never under water an' -there weren't no danger. But what does she do when we comes to the end -o' the Neck, but turn to ride across the inlet to the mainland, which -ye can do easy enough at low tide, but never at high. The sand was -already gettin' oozy, an' with the wind blowin' off the sea the tide was -risin' fast. Ye know what it would 'a' meant, sir, if she'd gone out an' -got caught. An' what with that unknown devil of a Blue Gypsy she was -ridin', there was no tellin' when it would happen. - -"'Miss Ethel,' I calls, sort o' commandin' like, for I was too excited -for politeness, 'ye can't go across.' - -"She turns around an' stares at me haughty, an' goes on. - -"I gallops up an' says: 'The tide's a risin', Miss Ethel, an' the inlet -isn't safe.' - -"She looks me over cool an' says: 'It is perfectly safe. I am goin' to -ride across; if you are afraid, Peter, you may go home.' - -"With that she whips up an' starts off. I was after her in a minute, -gallopin' up beside her, an' before she knew what I was doin' I reaches -out me hand an' grabs hold o' the bridle an' turns Blue Gypsy's head. I -didn't like to do it, for it seemed awful familiar, but with people as -contrary as they is, sir, ye've got to be familiar sometimes, if ye're -goin' to do any good in the world. - -"Well, Mr. Harry, as ye can believe, she didn't like it, an' she calls -out sharp and imperative for me to let go. But I hangs on an' begins to -gallop, an' with that she raises her crop an' cuts me over the hand as -hard as she can. It hurt considerable, but I held on an' didn't say -nothin', an' she raised her arm to strike again. But just at that moment -a wave broke almost at the horses' feet, an' Blue Gypsy reared, an' Miss -Ethel, who wasn't expectin' it, almost lost her balance an' the crop -dropped on the sand. - -"'Peter,' she says, 'go back an' get me that crop.' - -"But by that time I'd got the bit in me teeth, sir, an' I just -laughs--ugly like--an' keeps holt o' the bridle an' gallops on. Well, -sir, then she was 'most crazy, an' she tries to shake off me arm with -her fist, but she might as well have tried to shake down a tree. I looks -at her, an' smiles to meself impertinent, an' keeps on. An' she looks -all around, desperate like, hopin' to see someone within call, but the -beach was empty, an' there wasn't nothin' she could do, I bein' so much -stronger." - -"You brute!" said Mr. Harry. - -"I was savin' her life," said Peter. "An' when she saw she couldn't do -nothin' she kind o' sobbed down low to herself an' said, soft like: -'_I'll discharge you, Peter, when we get home._' - -"I touches me hat an' says as polite as ye please: 'Very well, miss, but -we ain't home yet, miss, and I'm boss for the present.' - -"With that a great big wave comes swash up against the horses' legs, an' -lucky it is that I had a holt o' the bridle, for Blue Gypsy would 'a' -thrown her sure. An' after I got her back on her four legs--Blue Gypsy, -sir--an' we was goin' on again, Miss Ethel throws a look over her -shoulder at the inlet which was all under water, an' then she looks down -at me hand that had a great big red welt across it, an' she said so low -I could scarce hear her over the waves: - -"'You can take your hand away, Peter. I'll ride straight home.' - -"I knew she meant it, but me hand was burnin' like fire, and I'd got me -temper up, so I looks at her doubtin' like, as if I couldn't believe -her, an' she turns red an' says, 'Can't ye trust me, Peter?' an' with -that I touches me hat an' falls behind. - -"An' when we got back, sir, and I got off at the porter-ker-cher to help -her dismount, what does she do but take me big red hand in both o' hers, -an' she looks at the scar, an' then she looks in me eyes, an' she says, -like as ye hit straight from the shoulder, sir, 'Peter,' she says, 'I'm -sorry I struck you. Will ye forgive me?' she says. - -"An' I touches me hat an' says: 'Certainly, miss. Don't mention it, -miss,' an' we was friends after that. - -"An' that's the reason, Mr. Harry, I hate to see ye go off an'--beggin' -yer pardon--make a fool o' yerself. For she loves ye true, sir, like as -Annie loves me, an' I know, sir, if she took it hard before ye was -married, it ud near kill her now. Ye mustn't mind what she says when -she's angry, for she just thinks o' the worst things she can to hurt yer -feelin's, but Lord! sir, she don't mean it no more'n a rabbit, an' if -ye'll give her half a chance and don't act like an iceberg she'll want -to make up. Me an' Annie, Mr. Harry, we pulls together lovely. I'm the -boss in some things, an' she's the boss in others; I lets her think she -can manage me, an' she lets me think I can manage her--and I can, sir. -Sometimes we have little quarrels, but it's mostly for the joy o' makin' -up, an' we're that happy, sir, that we wants to see everyone else -happy." - -The horses had slowed to a walk, but Mr. Harry did not notice it. A -smile was beginning to struggle with the hard lines about his mouth. - -"Well, Peter," he said, "you've preached quite a sermon. What would you -advise?" - -"That ye go back an' take a firm hold o' the bridle, sir, an' if she -uses the whip, just hold on hard an' don't let on that it hurts." - -Mr. Harry looked at Peter and the smile spread to his eyes. "And then -when she drops it," he asked, "just laugh and ride on?" - -Peter coughed a deprecatory cough. - -"Beggin' yer pardon, Mr. Harry, I think if I was in your place I'd pick -it up an' keep it meself. It might come in handy in case of -emergencies." - -Mr. Harry threw back his head in a quick, boyish laugh, and reaching -over he took the lines and turned the horses' heads. - -"Peter," he said, "you may be elemental, but I half suspect you're -right." - - * * * * * - -_"The Books You Like to Read at the Price You Like to Pay"_ - - -_There Are Two Sides to Everything_---- - ---including the wrapper which covers every Grosset & Dunlap book. When -you feel in the mood for a good romance, refer to the carefully selected -list of modern fiction comprising most of the successes by prominent -writers of the day which is printed on the back of every Grosset & -Dunlap book wrapper. - -You will find more than five hundred titles to choose from--books for -every mood and every taste and every pocket-book. - -_Don't forget the other side, but in case the wrapper is lost, write to -the publishers for a complete catalog._ - - -_There is a Grosset & Dunlap Book for every mood and for every taste_ - - * * * * * - -B. M. BOWER'S NOVELS - -May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list. - - - CHIP OF THE FLYING U. Wherein the love affairs of Chip and Della - Whitman are charmingly and humorously told. - - THE HAPPY FAMILY. A lively and amusing story, dealing with the - adventures of eighteen jovial, big hearted Montana cowboys. - - HER PRAIRIE KNIGHT. Describing a gay party of Easterners who - exchange a cottage at Newport for a Montana ranch-house. - - THE RANGE DWELLERS. Spirited action, a range feud between two - families, and a Romeo and Juliet courtship make this a bright, - jolly story. - - THE LURE OF THE DIM TRAILS. A vivid portrayal of the experience - of an Eastern author among the cowboys. - - THE LONESOME TRAIL. A little branch of sage brush and the - recollection of a pair of large brown eyes upset "Weary" Davidson's - plans. - - THE LONG SHADOW. A vigorous Western story, sparkling with the - free outdoor life of a mountain ranch. It is a fine love story. - - GOOD INDIAN. A stirring romance of life on an Idaho ranch. - - FLYING U RANCH. Another delightful story about Chip and his pals. - - THE FLYING U'S LAST STAND. An amusing account of Chip and the - other boys opposing a party of school teachers. - - THE UPHILL CLIMB. A story of a mountain ranch and of a man's hard - fight on the uphill road to manliness. - - THE PHANTOM HERD. The title of a moving-picture staged in New - Mexico by the "Flying U" boys. - - THE HERITAGE OF THE SIOUX. The "Flying U" boys stage a fake bank - robbery for film purposes which precedes a real one for lust of - gold. - - THE GRINGOS. A story of love and adventure on a ranch in - California. - - STARR OF THE DESERT. A New Mexico ranch story of mystery and - adventure. - - THE LOOKOUT MAN. A Northern California story full of action, - excitement and love. - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK - - * * * * * - -ZANE GREY'S NOVELS - -May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. - -THE MAN OF THE FOREST -THE DESERT OF WHEAT -THE U. P. TRAIL -WILDFIRE -THE BORDER LEGION -THE RAINBOW TRAIL -THE HERITAGE OF THE DESERT -RIDERS OF THE PURPLE SAGE -THE LIGHT OF WESTERN STARS -THE LAST OF THE PLAINSMEN -THE LONE STAR RANGER -DESERT GOLD -BETTY ZANE - - * * * * * - -LAST OF THE GREAT SCOUTS - -The life story of "Buffalo Bill" by his sister Helen Cody Wetmore, with -Foreword and conclusion by Zane Grey. - - -ZANE GREY'S BOOKS FOR BOYS - -KEN WARD IN THE JUNGLE -THE YOUNG LION HUNTER -THE YOUNG FORESTER -THE YOUNG PITCHER -THE SHORT STOP -THE RED-HEADED OUTFIELD AND OTHER BASEBALL STORIES - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK - - * * * * * - -JAMES OLIVER CURWOOD'S - -STORIES OF ADVENTURE - -May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. - - -THE RIVER'S END - -A story of the Royal Mounted Police. - - -THE GOLDEN SNARE - -Thrilling adventures in the Far Northland. - - -NOMADS OF THE NORTH - -The story of a bear-cub and a dog. - - -KAZAN - -The tale of a "quarter-strain wolf and three-quarters husky" torn -between the call of the human and his wild mate. - - -BAREE, SON OF KAZAN - -The story of the son of the blind Grey Wolf and the gallant part he -played in the lives of a man and a woman. - - -THE COURAGE OF CAPTAIN PLUM - -The story of the King of Beaver Island, a Mormon colony, and his battle -with Captain Plum. - - -THE DANGER TRAIL - -A tale of love, Indian vengeance, and a mystery of the North. - - -THE HUNTED WOMAN - -A tale of a great fight in the "valley of gold" for a woman. - - -THE FLOWER OF THE NORTH - -The story of Fort o' God, where the wild flavor of the wilderness is -blended with the courtly atmosphere of France. - - -THE GRIZZLY KING - -The story of Thor, the big grizzly. - - -ISOBEL - -A love story of the Far North. - - -THE WOLF HUNTERS - -A thrilling tale of adventure in the Canadian wilderness. - - -THE GOLD HUNTERS - -The story of adventure in the Hudson Bay wilds. - - -THE COURAGE OF MARGE O'DOONE - -Filled with exciting incidents in the land of strong men and women. - - -BACK TO GOD'S COUNTRY - -A thrilling story of the Far North. The great Photoplay was made from -this book. - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK - - * * * * * - -EDGAR RICE BURROUGH'S NOVELS - -May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. - - -TARZAN THE UNTAMED - -Tells of Tarzan's return to the life of the ape-man in his search for -vengeance on those who took from him his wife and home. - - -JUNGLE TALES OF TARZAN - -Records the many wonderful exploits by which Tarzan proves his right to -ape kingship. - - -A PRINCESS OF MARS - -Forty-three million miles from the earth--a succession of the weirdest -and most astounding adventures in fiction. John Carter, American, finds -himself on the planet Mars, battling for a beautiful woman, with the -Green Men of Mars, terrible creatures fifteen feet high, mounted on -horses like dragons. - - -THE GODS OF MARS - -Continuing John Carter's adventures on the Planet Mars, in which he does -battle against the ferocious "plant men," creatures whose mighty tails -swished their victims to instant death, and defies Issus, the terrible -Goddess of Death, whom all Mars worships and reveres. - - -THE WARLORD OF MARS - -Old acquaintances, made in the two other stories, reappear, Tars Tarkas, -Tardos Mors and others. There is a happy ending to the story in the -union of the Warlord, the title conferred upon John Carter, with Dejah -Thoris. - - -THUVIA, MAID OF MARS - -The fourth volume of the series. The story centers around the adventures -of Carthoris, the son of John Carter and Thuvia, daughter of a Martian -Emperor. - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK - - * * * * * - -MYRTLE REED'S NOVELS - -May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list. - - -LAVENDER AND OLD LACE. - -A charming story of a quaint corner of New England. The story centers -round the coming of love to the young people on the staff of a -newspaper--and is one of the sweetest and quaintest of old-fashioned -love stories. - - -FLOWER OF THE DUSK. - -A crippled daughter struggles to keep up the deception of riches for the -comfort of a blind father. Through the aid of an heiress and her surgeon -lover both father and daughter are cured. - - -MASTER OF THE VINEYARD. - -A pathetic love story of a young girl, Rosemary. The teacher of the -country school, who is also master of the vineyard, comes to know her -through her desire for books. She is happy in his love till another -woman comes into his life. But happiness comes to Rosemary at last. - - -OLD ROSE AND SILVER. - -A love story,--sentimental and humorous,--with the plot subordinate to -the character delineation of its quaint people and to the exquisite -descriptions of picturesque spots. - - -A WEAVER OF DREAMS. - -This story tells of the love-affairs of three young people, with an -old-fashioned romance in the background. - - -A SPINNER IN THE SUN. - -An old-fashioned love story of a veiled lady who lives in solitude. -There is a mystery that throws over it the glamour of romance. - - -THE MASTER'S VIOLIN. - -A love story in a musical atmosphere. An old German virtuoso consents to -take for his pupil a youth who proves to have an aptitude for technique, -but not the soul of an artist. But a girl comes into his life, and -through his passionate love for her his soul awakes. - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK - - * * * * * - -NOVELS OF FRONTIER LIFE BY - -WILLIAM MACLEOD RAINE - -May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. - - -MAVERICKS - -A tale of the western frontier, where the "rustler" abounds. One of the -sweetest love stories ever told. - - -A TEXAS RANGER - -How a member of the border police saved the life of an innocent man, -followed fugitive to Wyoming, and then passed through deadly peril to -ultimate happiness. - - -WYOMING - -In this vivid story the author brings out the turbid life of the -frontier with all its engaging dash and vigor. - - -RIDGWAY OF MONTANA - -The scene is laid in the mining centers of Montana, where politics and -mining industries are the religion of the country. - - -BUCKY O'CONNOR - -Every chapter teems with wholesome, stirring adventures, replete with -the dashing spirit of the border. - - -CROOKED TRAILS AND STRAIGHT - -A story of Arizona; of swift-riding men and daring outlaws; of a bitter -feud between cattle-men and sheep-herders. - - -BRAND BLOTTERS - -A story of the turbid life of the frontier with a charming love interest -running through its pages. - - -STEVE YEAGER - -A story brimful of excitement, with enough gun-play and adventures to -suit anyone. - - -A DAUGHTER OF THE DONS - -A Western story of romance and adventure, comprising a vivacious and -stirring tale. - - -THE HIGHGRADER - -A breezy, pleasant and amusing love story of Western mining life. - - -THE PIRATE OF PANAMA - -A tale of old-time pirates and of modern love, hate and adventure. - - -THE YUKON TRAIL - -A crisply entertaining love story in the land where might makes right. - - -THE VISION SPLENDID - -In which two cousins are contestants for the same prizes; political -honors and the hand of a girl. - - -THE SHERIFF'S SON - -The hero finally conquers both himself and his enemies and wins the love -of a wonderful girl. - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK - - * * * * * - -ELEANOR H. PORTER'S NOVELS - -May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. - - -JUST DAVID - -The tale of a loveable boy and the place he comes to fill in the hearts -of the gruff farmer folk to whose care he is left. - - -THE ROAD TO UNDERSTANDING - -A compelling romance of love and marriage. - - -OH, MONEY! MONEY! - -Stanley Fulton, a wealthy bachelor, to test the dispositions of his -relatives, sends them each a check for $100,000, and then as plain John -Smith comes among them to watch the result of his experiment. - - -SIX STAR RANCH - -A wholesome story of a club of six girls and their summer on Six Star -Ranch. - - -DAWN - -The story of a blind boy whose courage leads him through the gulf of -despair into a final victory gained by dedicating his life to the -service of blind soldiers. - - -ACROSS THE YEARS - -Short stories of our own kind and of our own people. Contains some of -the best writing Mrs. Porter has done. - - -THE TANGLED THREADS - -In these stories we find the concentrated charm and tenderness of all -her other books. - - -THE TIE THAT BINDS - -Intensely human stories told with Mrs. Porter's wonderful talent for -warm and vivid character drawing. - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK - - * * * * * - -THE NOVELS OF WINSTON CHURCHILL - - -THE INSIDE OF THE CUP. Illustrated by Howard Giles. - -The Reverend John Hodder is called to a fashionable church in a -middle-western city. He knows little of modern problems and in his -theology is as orthodox as the rich men who control his church could -desire. But the facts of modern life are thrust upon him; an awakening -follows and in the end he works out a solution. - - -A FAR COUNTRY. Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer. - -This novel is concerned with big problems of the day. As _The Inside of -the Cup_ gets down to the essentials in its discussion of religion, so -_A Far Country_ deals in a story that is intense and dramatic, with -other vital issues confronting the twentieth century. - - -A MODERN CHRONICLE. Illustrated by J. H. Gardner Soper. - -This, Mr. Churchill's first great presentation of the Eternal Feminine, -is throughout a profound study of a fascinating young American woman. It -is frankly a modern love story. - - -MR. CREWE'S CAREER. Illus. by A. I. Keller and Kinneys. - -A new England state is under the political domination of a railway and -Mr. Crewe, a millionaire, seizes a moment when the cause of the people -is being espoused by an ardent young attorney, to further his own -interest in a political way. The daughter of the railway president plays -no small part in the situation. - - -THE CROSSING. Illustrated by S. Adamson and L. Bay. - -Describing the battle of Fort Moultrie, the blazing of the Kentucky -wilderness, the expedition of Clark and his handful of followers in -Illinois, the beginning of civilization along the Ohio and Mississippi, -and the treasonable schemes against Washington. - - -CONISTON. Illustrated by Florence Scovel Shinn. - -A deft blending of love and politics. A New Englander is the hero, a -crude man who rose to political prominence by his own powers, and then -surrendered all for the love of a woman. - - -THE CELEBRITY. An episode. - -An inimitable bit of comedy describing an interchange of personalities -between a celebrated author and a bicycle salesman. It is the purest, -keenest fun--and is American to the core. - - -THE CRISIS. Illustrated with scenes from the Photo-Play. - -A book that presents the great crisis in our national life with splendid -power and with a sympathy, a sincerity, and a patriotism that are -inspiring. - - -RICHARD CARVEL. Illustrated by Malcolm Frazer. - -An historical novel which gives a real and vivid picture of Colonial -times, and is good, clean, spirited reading in all its phases and -interesting throughout. - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK - - * * * * * - -"STORM COUNTRY" BOOKS BY - -GRACE MILLER WHITE - -May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset & Dunlap's list. - - -JUDY OF ROGUES' HARBOR - -Judy's untutored ideas of God, her love of wild things, her faith in -life are quite as inspiring as those of Tess. Her faith and sincerity -catch at your heart strings. This book has all of the mystery and tense -action of the other Storm Country books. - - -TESS OF THE STORM COUNTRY - -It was as Tess, beautiful, wild, impetuous, that Mary Pickford made her -reputation as a motion picture actress. How love acts upon a temperament -such as hers--a temperament that makes a woman an angel or an outcast, -according to the character of the man she loves--is the theme of the -story. - - -THE SECRET OF THE STORM COUNTRY - -The sequel to "Tess of the Storm Country," with the same wild -background, with its half-gypsy life of the squatters--tempestuous, -passionate, brooding. Tess learns the "secret" of her birth and finds -happiness and love through her boundless faith in life. - - -FROM THE VALLEY OF THE MISSING - -A haunting story with its scene laid near the country familiar to -readers of "Tess of the Storm Country." - - -ROSE O' PARADISE - -"Jinny" Singleton, wild, lovely, lonely, but with a passionate yearning -for music, grows up in the house of Lafe Grandoken, a crippled cobbler -of the Storm Country. Her romance is full of power and glory and -tenderness. - - -_Ask for Complete free list of G. & D. Popular Copyrighted Fiction_ - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK - - * * * * * - -STORIES OF RARE CHARM BY - -GENE STRATTON-PORTER - -May be had wherever books are sold. Ask for Grosset and Dunlap's list - -[Illustration] - - -LADDIE. - -Illustrated by Herman Pfeifer. - -This is a bright, cheery tale with the scenes laid in Indiana. The story -is told by Little Sister, the youngest member of a large family, but it -is concerned not so much with childish doings as with the love affairs -of older members of the family. Chief among them is that of Laddie, the -older brother whom Little Sister adores, and the Princess, an English -girl who has come to live in the neighborhood and about whose family -there hangs a mystery. There is a wedding midway in the book and a -double wedding at the close. - - -THE HARVESTER. Illustrated by W. L. Jacobs. - -"The Harvester," David Langston, is a man of the woods and fields, who -draws his living from the prodigal hand of Mother Nature herself. If the -book had nothing in it but the splendid figure of this man it would be -notable. But when the Girl comes to his "Medicine Woods," and the -Harvester's whole being realizes that this is the highest point of life -which has come to him--there begins a romance of the rarest idyllic -quality. - - -FRECKLES. Decorations by E. Stetson Crawford. - -Freckles is a nameless waif when the tale opens, but the way in which he -takes hold of life; the nature friendships he forms in the great -Limberlost Swamp; the manner in which everyone who meets him succumbs to -the charm of his engaging personality; and his love-story with "The -Angel" are full of real sentiment. - - -A GIRL OF THE LIMBERLOST. - -Illustrated by Wladyslaw T. Brenda. - -The story of a girl of the Michigan woods; a buoyant, lovable type of -the self-reliant American. Her philosophy is one of love and kindness -towards all things; her hope is never dimmed. And by the sheer beauty of -her soul, and the purity of her vision, she wins from barren and -unpromising surroundings those rewards of high courage. - - -AT THE FOOT OF THE RAINBOW. - -Illustrations in colors by Oliver Kemp. - -The scene of this charming love story is laid in Central Indiana. The -story is one of devoted friendship, and tender self-sacrificing love. -The novel is brimful of the most beautiful word painting of nature, and -its pathos and tender sentiment will endear it to all. - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, PUBLISHERS, NEW YORK - - * * * * * - -THE NOVELS OF IRVING BACHELLER - -Full of the real atmosphere of American home life. - - -THE HAND-MADE GENTLEMAN. With a double-page frontispiece. - -The son of a wash-woman begins re-making himself socially and imparts -his system to his numerous friends. A story of rural New York with an -appreciation of American types only possible from the pen of a humor -loving American. - - -DARREL OF THE BLESSED ISLES. With illustrations by Arthur I. Keller. - -A tale of the North Country. In Darrel, the clock tinker, wit, -philosopher and man of mystery, is portrayed a force held in fetters and -covered with obscurity, yet strong to make its way, and widely felt. - - -D'RI AND I: A Tale of Daring Deeds in the Second War with the British. -Illustrated by F. C. Yohn. - -"D'ri" was a mighty hunter, quaint, rugged, wise, truthful. He fights -magnificently on the Lawrence, and is a striking figure in this -enthusiastic romance of early America. - - -EBEN HOLDEN: A Tale of the North Country. - -A story of the hardy wood-choppers of Vermont, who founded their homes -in the Adirondack wilderness. "Eben," the hero, is a bachelor with an -imagination that is a very wilderness of oddities. - - -SILAS STRONG: Emperor of the Woods. - -A simple account of one summer life, as it was lived in a part of the -Adirondacks. Silas Strong is a woodland philosopher, and his camp is the -scene of an impressive little love story. - - -VERGILIUS: A Tale of the Coming of Christ. - -A thrilling and beautiful story of two young Roman Patricians whose -great and perilous love in the reign of Augustus leads them through the -momentous, exciting events that marked the year just preceding the birth -of Christ. - -GROSSET & DUNLAP, 526 WEST 26TH ST., NEW YORK - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of Much Ado About Peter, by Jean Webster - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK MUCH ADO ABOUT PETER *** - -***** This file should be named 42768-8.txt or 42768-8.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/4/2/7/6/42768/ - -Produced by Charlene Taylor, Martin Pettit and the Online -Distributed Proofreading Team at http://www.pgdp.net (This -file was produced from images generously made available -by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions -will be renamed. - -Creating the works from public domain print editions means that no -one owns a United States copyright in these works, so the Foundation -(and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United States without -permission and without paying copyright royalties. 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