First Experience on the Boat. See page 52. THE MORTGAGE ON THE HIP-ROOF HOUSE BY ALBION W. TOURGEE Author of A Fool's Errand," " Murvai-e Eastman," '-'Out of thk Sunset Sea," " The War of the Standards," Etc. ^ CINCINNATI : CURTS & JENNINGS NEW YORK : EATON & MAINS 1896 COPYRIGHT BY CURTS & JENNINGS, 1S96. CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. Paoe. French Sorkel, 9 CHAPTER IT. The Hip-roof House, and its Inmates, 27 CHAPTER III. The Queen of the "West, 43 CHAPTER IV. Joe's First Experience on the Boat, 52 CHAPTER V. An Interview with the Captain, C7 CHAPTER VI. Joe's Engagement, 76 CHAPTER VI r. A Visit to Home, 89 CHAPTER VIII. Joe's Project, 101 942212 '' 4 Contents. CHArXER IX. Page. The Apple-crop, 114 CHAPTER X. Driving a Bargain, 127 CHAPTER Xr. The Captain's Orders 147 CHAPTER Xn. Apples and Kisses, 178 CHAPTER Xni. An Indenture, 1S2 ILLUSTRATIONS. PAGE. First Experience ox the Boat. Frontispiece. Return from the Village, 41 Joe's Interview with Captain Moxom, 72 Joe and 'Cindy in the Orchard, 104 The Indenture Signed, 196 5 THE MORTGAGE ON THE HIP-ROOF HOUSE. THE MORTGAGE ON THE HIP-ROOF HOUSE. Chapter I. FRENCH SORREL. "T T 'S a miglity back'ard spring, Joey." 1 "I s'pose 't is, Daddy Waugli. That was what Mr. Perkins said to-day; but it do n't seem to me as if our garden was ever any forwarder tlian 't is this year. Just about every thing is up, and there ain't a weed in it. I 've got ye a good mess of that big French sorrel you 're so fond of for supper. It won't be long 'fore we shall have some sort of garden-stuff every day, now. Ain't that nice?" The boy — a sturdy lad of fifteen, with dark- blue eyes, and short, brown hair curling about his brow — held towards the decrepit figure in 9 10 The Hip-roof House. an old anu-c'liair, a bowl full of the large, light- green leaves of what he correctly termed French sorrel, the Rumex scutata of the botanists, which was deservedly a favorite dish with our fathers, though few of the present generation ever tasted it. "That is nice, Joey," said the old man, peer- ing eagerly at it through his glasses, lifting the broad leaves carefully in his trembling fingers, and letting them fall back, one by one, into the dish. 'T do n't remember as I ever see bigger leaves 'n that, for a first cuttin', anywhere," The boy's face flushed with pleasure. "'You see, I took particular care of it, know- ing liow you liked it, daddy," he said, speaking in that loud tone one gets accustomed to using, who has much intercourse with people whose hearing is impaired. ''Of ' course, you must have done that; but you need n't holler at me so. It 's a dreilul bad habit you 're gettin' into, Joey, — 'long o' living with me, 1 'spose, though I ain't deaf, not to sav deaf, that is, Joey; only a leetle dull of hear- French Sorrel. H ill', so to speak. I think I hear jest about ez well cz ever, when I 'in thinkiii' 'bout listenin', you know; when my mind 's on what a body's talkin' about, ez you may say." The old man spoke in that plaintive tone of self-defense in whicdi age seeks to excuse its infirmities. Joe knew the tone, also the remedy, and applied it promptly. ''That 's so, daddy. I 've noticed it more 'n a hundred times. If you 're thinking 'bout what any one 's saying, seems as if you heard what was said almost 'fore they could git the words out." "That 's just the way 't is, when my mind 's on it; but }'ou see, settin' here all day, and the bigger part of the night, too, most of the time I git kind o' wrapped up in my thoughts, and I s'pose, really, it takes quite a clap to git me out of 'em." "Well — a little — sometimes, daddy," replied the boy, cautiously and cheerfully. He had drawn out the table as they talked, and was busy setting it for the evening meal. 12 The Hip-roof House. The table was of white rock-maple of a very peculiar grain, supported on two pairs of crossed legs connected by braces running from the top of one set to the bottom of the other, on each side. Across each end was nailed a narrow strip of that beautiful wood, the sycamore, the soft, reddish surface of whicli, dotted with niinute yellow scales, contrasted pleasantly with the snowy maple. The whole was spotlessly clean, and bore evidence of that peculiar finish which only years of use and frequent scouring can confer. Looking at the edges, one could see that the boards had been worn thinner in the middle than at either end. The boy took some blue-edged plates with curious dragon- ligures in the middle, and some little horn- handled knives and forks, the former thin and narrow, from a cupboard in the corner of the room, and placed them on the table. The old man put out his hand, moving his fingers gently along the polished surface. ''I guess the old table '11 outlast me yet," he said, querulously. "It 's stood a good while, French Sorrel. 13 and is just as stiddy on its legs as it was tlie day 't was made. That was Lowiza's birthday. Sawed the boards with a hand-saw out of a tree we cut down l)v tlie spring. That 's wliy the boards are so narrer; I liad to split it, you see, 'cause I could n't rip through the whole log. It ain't a bad lookin' table yet." "It 's the prettiest curly-maple I ever saw," said the boy. "Curlv? Don't call that curly-maple, Joe. How many times have I got to tell ye that ain't curly-maple, but bird's-eye? Do 'n ye sec them leetle wdiite specks with the dark edges? Them 's the eyes. That 's bird's-eye maple, an' about the prettiest piece of wood I ever saw. 'T won't make no difference, though, when other folks come to git it, whether it 's curled or bird's-eye — handsome or homely. It 's out o' fashion, and only fit for the cellar or the garret." The boy noted the plaintive tone, and spoke up, cheerfully, — "A little sugar and a touch of vinegar will 14 The Hip-roof House. make this sorrel right toothsome, daddy. It 's first-rate with bread and butter," he continued, as lie bustled about his duties. "T used to like it in my young days,'' said the old man, sadly, ''and Lowiza in particular set great store In' it. When we moved to this c(»unti-y she brought them very roots along with her, them and some posy jdants and things, from the old home-place back in Berkshire — in a little bag she hardly let go out of her sight all the way. I used to tell her over 'n often that the bigger part of our comfort here come out of that bag. You see she was that thoughtful that she had saved up pips of all the best sorts of apples in her father's orchard, and all the country round for that matter, and the same with pears and plums. She had little slips of currants and gooseberries, too, that grew, when we come to set them out, as if they had been rooted for years, and we 've got them in the garden now. It 's jest wonder- ful how much good can be got out of a little, if one 's keerful and knowin'." French Sorrel. 15 ''Grandma must have been a very careful woman," said the boy. "Iveerful? Why, we hadn't hardly got the logs out for the house 'fore she wanted a place cleared for a garden; so we cut down that bit of rich flat below the spring, and burned it off, and set out her little bundle of roots, an' planted a few seeds. I remember we laughed a good deal about one little yaller piece of madder-root that we wuz all sure would n't amount to nothin'. But, law sakes, there was n't room enough in the whole clearin' to set out what we got from it the next year. ''That 's more 'n forty years ago, Joey. The orchard has nigli about all come from them seeds and slips, an' the garden 's been on that same piece of ground ever sence. I do n't s'pose tlier 's a better acre of land in the whole country than that piece of black silo rouml the spring. I 've put a many a day's work on it, Joey, an' it never 's failed to give me back good intrust on all it 's had. That an' the old orchard and the bits of medder-land below the y.6 The Hip-roof House. barn are worth as rnucli as a gold-mine, ef one only bed tbe strength to take keer on 'em an' work 'em ez they ought to be worked." ''That 's just what Mr. Perkins was a-sayin' to-(hiy," rctiinicd tlie l)oy, cheerfully. "He said he did n't knctw anywhere in all tlie counti'v round another ten acres as good as ours." "ITe did, eh?" said the old man, snappishly. "Where 'd you see 'Siali Perkins, to have so much talk with him to-day?" "Down at the garden, daddy; I hain't been nowhere else," answered the boy, in surprise. "An' the sneakin' varmint was down there, was he?" Tlie boy looked across the table at the old man, in amazement. "Why do n't ye answer my question?" asked the latter, sharply. "You — you — you mean — j\Ir. Perkins?" dubiously. "Of course, I mean 'Siah Perkins. If ther 's French Sorrel. 17 a meaner, more contemptible varmint anywliero ronnJ, I do n't know it." Killis AVangli smote tlie wliite, uneven floor with Lis cane very spitefully jis lie said this, and his mild face was flushed with anger. The hoy looked at him in silent wonder for a moment. Then he stammered out, as if com- pelled to say something: "Yes, sir, I — I did n't know, sir." The hesi- tant, apologetic tone attracted the old man's attention, even in the midst of his wrath. "Xo more you did n't, sonny," he said, kindly, ''There, there, do n't you go to feelin' bad now. I did n't mean to be so fractious- like. The fact is, Joe, I 've had a good deal to bear up under lately, an' had to bear it all alone." "Couldn't I help you, Daddy AVaughT' asked Joe, coming round the table and laying his hand on the old man's shoulder, while he gazed into his face with eyes full of tears. "You 're a good boy, Joey, a good boy, and 2 18 The Hip-roof House. you 've done all a boy of your age conld do to keep tilings agoin', but this is 'way beyond your strength, child." ''I 'm a pretty stout boy, daddy," said Joe, smiling manfully through his tears. "So you be, Joe, so you be, an' a willin' one, an' a brave one, too. There ain't no doubt o' that. If it had n't been for you, I do n't know how we 'd ever have got nlong sence my last stroke. You could n't 'a' done better ef you 'd been my own son, an' I do n't s'posc, if the truth was known, that the only son I had would have done anything like as well. Jake was a good boy, kind uv hot-tempered like his mother, and a little inclined to be slacksy like — wal, like his fayther. Tic worked hard 'nough when he was a boy, but he was n't thrifty an' managin' as you 've been sence ye've hed everything on yer shoulders." "O, Daddy Waugh, I 'm sure he 'd have done a great deal better 'n I. I only wish he M been here, instead of me," sobbed the boy, bravely ignoring the praise bestowed upon his acts. French Sorrel. 19 "Jake was a good, higli-sperrited bo}', aud lie grew up into a brave, higli-sperrited man. If he had lived I think he 'd 'a' been a credit to the eunntry as well as to his parents. But it was n't to be. He was jest gittin' a start Avlien he died, an' left his wife a-dyin' of con- sumption, an' 'Cindy a little tot less 'n three years old. He was in debt some, which was nateral enough, jest when he was buildin' up his biznis, ye know, an' Lowizy an' I agreed that, though we wa'nt in no way bound fer his debts, it was n't proper that anybody should suffer loss by our only child ^\•lli]e we had a plenty an' every year a leetle to spare. "So I took up the load that Providence seemed to hev ordered for me to carry, never once thinkin' it would git ez heavy as it 's bin the last few years. Of course, Lucindy — the child hain't come in yit, has she?" he asked, hastily lowering his voice, and looking tov.-ards the door opening into another room. "No," said Joe, confidently, "she was going to stay to supper with ]\ratilda jMason, and come home in the evening. That 's the reason I was 20 The Hip-roof House. getting supper. I dcclai-e, I 'd almost forgot I was getting it, too." ^'Xever mind now, Joey, I want to tell ye about this matter, an' I 'spect I better do it afore Lucindy comes. It '11 be hard enough for her, anyhow." "l^ow, daddy, don't you be troublin' 'bout 'Cindy. She ain't as old as I am, but I tell you, daddy, she 's smart. There ain't no dodgin' that. Tain't only what she does, but what she thinks, that counts. AVhen you come to see what we 've done and how we 've got along this spring. Daddy Waugh, I 'm sure you '11 get over your bad feelings. I would n't never have thought of half the things nor of half the handy ways of doin' 'em that she did. And you must remember we 're going to be stronger and better able to take care of you every year from now on. I '11 get your go-cart fixed up before Sunday, and take you out to see how well everything is getting along." ''Don't, don't, child," said the old man, with a pathetic gesture; "you jest make it French Sorrel. 21 harder for me, Joey." There was an inde- scribable wail in his voice as he spoke. ''Joey, 't ain't no use. I thought maybe we 'd weather it through, you an' 'Cindy are so helpful an' good, but 't ain't no use. AVe 've jest got to give up. It seems as if I 'd had nothing but bad luck since Jacob died. It kind of broke Lowizy's sperit, the boy dyin' an' havin' to pay his debts, or engage to pay 'em, an' the first I knew she went, too. Then the crops was bad an' I had to sell one piece of land after another to meet the notes. After awhile Per- kins somehow persuaded me to put money into a. speculation he was a startin', or at least to give my note for it. He said the business would be sure to pay long afore the note come due. I did n't have Lowizy to advise with or I should n't 'a' done it, I s'pose. I signed the note, though, and l)y and l)y, when it come due, I had to mortgage what there was left of the old place tO meet it. That was 'bout the time of my first sti'oke or a leetle afore that. You remember it, do n't }e, Joey?" 22 The Hip-roof House. ^'Yes, daddy," said the boy, soothingly. "AVal, everything went on from bad to worse atter tliat. I was totterish an' nnstiddy, an' had to hire everything done that was done. I sokl off tlie land, leetle by leetle, to make the payments an' keep down the intrnst, an' we lived on the scraps that was left over. This last year or two, yon an' 'Cindy have managed so well I begnn to hope we 'd git along an' save wdiat 's left of the old place; bnt 't ain't no nse, Joey; 't ain't no nse." "Has anything happened lately, daddy?" asked the boy, tenderly smoothing back the scanty locks npon the old man's brow. "Yes, Joey, the very worst has happened that could; I b'lieve I could bear it myself, if it was n't for you and 'Cindy. 'T would n't hurt me so very nnich goin' to the county-housej 'cause it would n't be for long, you know. But I did want to see you an' 'Cindy grow up till you was able to help yourselves. I wanted to see you livin' in the hip-roofed house, too, both French Sorrkl. 23 on ve, if it slioiild please God you sliould be so minded. You see my heart 's sot on the old place. 1 can't think of it goin' to strangers. You ain't no relation to me as I know of, Joey, but as I said, an own son could n't have been no better to me, an' I did want you to live in Daddy Waugh's house till you was ready to go into yer own, unless you an' 'Cindy could agree to keep right on here." ''Won't you tell me what 's a-worrying you now, daddy?" asked the boy, with a flush on his face. ''It's jest this, Joey: that air scoundrel, 'Siah Perkins, has bought that mortgage. Squire Sanderson, that used to hold it, did n't never press for his money. lie knew 't was secure, and only wanted the intrust. Some- times he waited fer that, if times was too hard for me. But he died a few months ago, ye know, an' the administrator he solil the note, as (»f course he had to, in settliu' up the estate, an' that sneakin', low-lived 'Siah Perkins 24 Thk Hip-Koor House. bought it. lie was here to-(hiy, an' sajs he 's got to liave the money inside of three months or lie '11 foreclose." "What's that, daddy ^" ''AVhy, sell the place to pay the debt, ye know." "Can he do that?" ''Yes, he kin do it, son, though I guess he M have to bring suit first to find out jest how much was comin' on the mortgage. Anyway, I calculate it would be about October afore he could git a hold of it himself, an' that I guess is about his estimate, too. He waited till you got the sj)ring's work pretty well done, and probably counts on gittin' the hay-crop an' the apples." "It's a shame!" said the boy, hotly. ''The orchard is as full as it can be, and there ain't hardly any other trees round here bearin' this year. How much is the debt, daddy?" "Ez near 'z I can calculate it, intrust 'n all, it must be in the neighborhood of three hun- French Sorrel. 25 dred an' fifty dollars. It can't be any more 'n that, nohow." ''But he said to-day the place was Avorth a thousand dollars," said the boy, in surprise. "Of course," exclaimed the old man, bit- terly. "That 's the reason he wants to get it. lie knows I can't raise the money, and I 'spect he 's afraid to wait longer for fear you may get able to help me after a while. I do n't s'pose I ought to have called him hard names, Joey, but it is a mean trick." ''"Why, the apples '11 pay mighty near half of it, the way things are likely to be in the fall," said Joe, indignantly. "I 'd thought of that, my son; but then there 'd be the other half. It ain't no use to lift one end of the log an' not stir the other." The old man's tone was hopeless. "It seems as if there ought to be some way — as if somebody would help you, Daddy Waugh," said the boy, meditatively. "It would seem so, Joey; but you know I 've 26 The Hip-roof House. been as good ez dead fer iiigli on to four years, and tlie world forgits the dead wonderful quick, my son. It hardly knows I 'm alive, now I can't git around. Xo, I 've thought it all over, an' there ain't no way out only jest to let him sell" "And what then?" asked Joe. "Wal, I take it the place '11 bring a leetle more 'n the mortgage in spite of the hard times. This '11 keep you 'n 'Cindy 'long till you 're able to help yourselves." ''And you, daddy — what '11 become of you?" ''O, I '11 go to the county-house. It 's a com- fortable place, and Mr. Wilcox '11 take good keer on me while tlier 's any need for 't." ''Daddy Waugh," said the boy, impetuously, "do n't you say another word. You ain't never goin' to the county house while 'Cindy 'n me are alive." "That he ain't!" came in a shrill tone from the doorway, and a bright-faced girl rushed across the room and threw herself on the old man's neck in a passion of tears. Chapter 11. THE HIP-ROOF HOUSE, AND ITS INMATES. THE Hip-roof House stood on the north side of the ancient thoroughfare that followed the undulating shore-line of Lake Erie from Buffalo to Toledo, along Avhieh the stages ran in the period immediately preceding the railway epoch. It was of somewhat preten- tious design — the upright portion, which stood with its gahle towards the higiu\'ay, having been flanked by two wings, each with a porch in front. One of these now constituted the living-room of the family. It opened both into the parlor, a great half-furnished apartment, Avhich occupied the whole front of the upright part, and tlie kitchen, an almost equally spa- cious room in the rear, with a staii'way be- tween. The roof of the main part, which had given a name to the house, was really a curb- roof; that is, the line of the rafters was broken 27 28 The Hip-roof House. at the purlinc, making a roof with double pitcli, the lower much more sharply inclined than the npper. They have become common in modern times under the name of French roofs, or man- sards. In some parts of the country they were foriuerly known as Dutch roofs. In the region of which we write they were very rare, so that the Hip-roof House was a landmark to the traveler by stage between the great East and the greater AVest. A half-mile away the ridge- road was intersected by one from the south- ward; the village lay a mile to the west and five miles beyond was the harbor, whose light showed at night over the intervening low ground. The house was at the top of a sandy hill, and the meadows in its rear sloped to the northwestward. A spring, famous through all the country round, burst out of the hillside, fifty yards below the house and midway be- tween it and the barn. To the west lay the garden. The house had once been painted red, and still showed red in the landscape, but near at hand betrayed the ravages of time. House, Its Inmates. 29 garden, and barn were all imbedded, as it were, in the orchard. Garden, meadow, barnyard, lane, all were fringed and stndded with trees — apple, pear, plnm, cherry, and a few old and scraggy peach trees. This was the domain of Killis AVaugh. The name no donltt had been intended Achilles, but the Yankee tongue had made it "Killis," and the spelling had conformed to pronunciation. He was an old man, past seventy. He had lived for half a century on the spot yvhere the Hip- roof House stood. He had cut away the forest, planted the orchard, built the house, grown prosperous and forehanded, if not exactly rich, in his prime, and now in his old age, reduced almost to want, still clung to the remnant of the homestead he had carved out of the pri- meval forest. The farm had shrunk from two hundred acres to ten. These, with the "rights, privileges, and appurtenances thereunto belong- ing," and the incumbrances thereto attaching, constituted his sole estate. Four years before had come his first "stroke," 30 The Hip-roof House. as lie called it, following hard upon the death of his wife. It had left a sluggishness of limb which allowed him to move about with diffi- culty, but forbade any considerable amount of physical labor. He had been what is termed a ''handy" man in his earlier days, however, and with the aid of a few tools and a turning- lathe, which he had made years before, he con- tinued to contribute something toward the sup- port of the little family — more, perhaps, than he would have done had he been able to attend to the cultivation of the tiny farm. The land had been worked "on shares" until its shrinking dimensions made it insufficient for the support of a tenant. After that, it had been "let out" in patches, or the Avork done "by the job" by parties Avho were glad to take their pay in the plain but honest work that came from the old man's hands. His second stroke, coming two years after the first, had chained him to his chair without impairing, to any great extent, his mental power or manual dexterity. Killis Waugh was a man of more than ordi- Its Inmates. 31 nary intelligence, one of those to be found in most conntry neigliborliooJs, -whose delight it is to attend to the public duties which are sure to be thrust upon them. For more years than fall to an ordinary life he had been a justice of the peace, trustee of the townshij) and Church, director of the district school, and general ad- viser of the neighborhood. Attentive as he was to others' interests, his own would have fared poorly, even in his prime, but for the thrifty energy of his wife. Owing to her pru- dent management, and the enhancement of values in the region where they lived, they had accumulated the comfortable property which was dissipated by their son's misfortune and their honorable eiforts to redeem his name from the opprol)rium of debt. AVith his mis- fortune had come the sense of being forgotten, which naturally follows retirement from the communal life which characterizes all new com- munities. The exclusion from public affairs had come very gradually, but seemed to tlie warm- hearted old man a real death in life. Gradually, 32 TiiK Hip-roof House. hut certainly, liis world Lad iiaiTowed to the two (diildi'cii, whose l»eiiel'aet<»r he had once lioped to he, hut to whom he now hitterly be- lieved he liad heconie a l)urdcn. Up to his last stroke, Daddy Wangh would probably have counted among the incumbrances of the Hip-roof House the two young people who lived alone with him, and were, in fact, the stay of his life. Lucinda AVaugh was the bequest of his unfortunate son, and, despite his misfortunes, the old man had never intimated, by word or look that the tall, graceful girl, now budding into womanhood, had ever been a bur- den. She and her boy playmate, indeed, had seemed the children of their old age to the kindly couple whose care they had received, and this kindness had borne a rich fruitage of devotion in their young hearts. Their lives had not been especially hard. They had never known want, and the frugal life about them had made them unconscious even of poverty. They had grown old somewhat beyond their years by the necessity for self-direction which Its Inmates. 33 had fallen upon them, and bore perhaps a more intimate relation to each other than they would have done but for this conmion burden of re- sponsibility. Joe Thompson had come curiously enough into Daddy AVaugh's household. A man draw- ing a rude cart, containing a few necessary arti- cles and furnishing a means of transportation for a sturdy boy of three years old, had stopped at the farm-house one sultry summer evening, and asked for a night's lodging. It was long before the days of tramps, and in that region no door was ever closed to one asking shelter or refresh- ment. The favor was accorded in this case all the more readily because the wayfarer seemed ■worn w'ith fatigue, and the pallid face, great mournful eyes, and transparent hands told of a frame enfeebled by disease. During the even- ing the stranger told the outlines of his stor}'. He had married a young wife against the wishes of her parents in one of the Eastern States, and taken her to the great AVest to seek their for- tunes. It was a story all too common in that 3 34 The Hip-roof House. day. The fortune which they sought, eluded all their efforts. The frail young wife soon suc- cumbed to the burthens of maternity, hardship, and want. The father struggled on until as- sured that the end was near and inevitable. His poverty forbade his traveling by any public conveyance, and so he started on foot to comply with his dying wife's request, and take their child to her father's home on the Xew England hillside. He had crossed one State and almost reached the eastern boundary of another. There were only two more — two and a day's journey into a third — and his task would be complete. He hoped to live to see the end. He must live, he would live, to see that time, he said, with a strange light in his wan eyes. After that, he wanted nothing more. If he could only know that his boy would be cared for, he could die, and go to her who, he was sure, still loved and watched over him. This was his story. Killis AVaugh and his wife listened with sympathetic tears. The stranger retired early. He was weary and worn. He wished to start Its Inmates. 35 before the sun rose, to avoid the dust and heat. Ere the morning dawned liis jonrney was ended. The man had felt so snre of Hving to perform liis task that he had left no written directions by which another could finish it in case of his default. He had told his story without giving names. That peculiar reticence which always leads those of New England stock to hide with zealous care whatever may be thought unpleas- ant or discreditable with regard to themselves or family, had sealed his mouth to everything but the outlines of his sad story. Killis Waugh and his brave wife did not shrink at the added burden imposed on their old age. Their son's child was already installed in the cradle, but this waif of the go-cart was not denied a home. There were not wanting those who declared that, by refusing to send the unknown foundling to the connty-house, the worthy couple were only rendering more certain and speedy their own journey thither. To such Killis Waugh had l)ut one reply: "Sho, sho! His folks '11 probably find him in 36 The Hip-roof House. the course of a year or so, and in ihe meantime, you know, it \s only a little more water in the porridge. You see we 've got one bahy on our hands, and it 's just as easy or a little easier, to take care of two than one." So it was that Joe Thompson became a deni- zen of the Hip-roof House, and grew up to enter an emphatic protest against Daddy Waugh's proposal to surrender its possession. After a few days the enthusiasm of the young people began to infect the old man also. At any rate, the few neighbors who called to see what steps would be taken as to the sale of the property, which was regarded as certain, now that Josiah Perkins had made demand for his money, were surprised to find that its occupants expected to continue in possession despite the mortgagee's demand. "I '11 tell you what, daddy," said Joe, stoutly, after every phase of the question had been dis- cussed again and again, " 'Siah Perkins ain't goin' to git the Hip-roof House. You just make your mind easy 'bout that. You 're goin' Its Inmates. 37 to live in it as long as you want to, and after that 'Cindy and me are goin' to live in it by ourselves. Ain't that so, 'Cindy f ''I — I guess so, Joe," said the girl, not over confidently. ^'AVell, I know it," asserted the boy. "But how — how are you goin' to manage it, Joey?" queried the old man, anxious for a chance to believe. "AVell, I do n't exactly know just how," said the boy; "but I 'm goin' to find a way. I think, the first thing, I '11 go and see Lawyer ]\Iarvin, over to the village, and find out if we can't hold on until after apple-harvesting. Then, I '11 go on the Lake, and leave 'Cindy to take care of you and look after things during the summer." "Law, child, what '11 that amount to I Wages ain't notliin', an' there 's two men to every place, let alone boys. "What do you sup- pose you could earn, if you had a place?" "O, if I had a place I could get a good deal — as much as four or five dollars a month. That 's what Frank Bidwell gets, and he is n't 38 The Hip-koof House. iinicli bigger tlian T am, and never set foot on a boat before this year.'' "Eive dollars a month! AVhat would that come to?" the old man queried, despondingly, ^'Tt 's something, grandpa," said 'Cindy, cheeringlj. ''It '11 pay the interest, anyhow." "Probably 't would if we only had somebody to take the mortgage up, and wait till we could pay it by littles." "If w^e do n't begin earning we '11 never be- gin paying," said the boy, sententiously. "But the Lake ain't no tit place for you, Joey. It 's a hard life with rough people. I could n't think of yer goin' on one of them big boats, Joey." "I s'pose a big boat ain't no worse 'n a little one," replied Joe; "and they pay more, and there 's more likely to be a chance there tliau anywhere else. So, I 'm going." "Well," said the old man, "if you must, you must. I wonder if you could n't get a place with Davy Moxom?" Its Inmates. 39 "Who is lie, daddy?" "Hain't ye never heard me tell of Davy Moxom?" "You do n't mean the one that ehored for you once?" "Of course I do." "Vriicre is he now?" ""Why, he's Captain of the Queen of the West." "Him that the sailors call "^Old Ironsides?' " "I presume so; that 's what the hoys used to call him when he went to the Academy." "Is he so very crusty, grandpa?" It was 'Cindy who asked. Joe was in a brown study. "Crusty? Xo, — just kind o' serious-like. They called him 'Old Ironsides' because the only piece he would ever speak at school was abcut that ship. How did it begin? I re- member the first time I ever saw it, same as if 't was yesterday. It was somewhere about the time Davy Moxom was boardin' here. Queer 40 The Hip-roof HoUvSE. I eau't remember it. Let me see. It begun something like this: 'Ay, tear her tattered ensign ilown! Long has it waved on high ; And many an eye has danced to see That banner in the sky.' There was n't but two or three verses, but Davy was powerful fond of it, and spoke it every time it came his turn. They used to say he got it off in fine style. So the boys gave him the nickname. From what they say of him sence, they were n't far wrong, neither. He was a born sailor, though, if ever there was one." "Daddy Waugh," spoke up Joe, wdth sharp emphasis. "Yes, Joe, I hear ye. 'T ain't no need to holler at me so." "Could n't you write a letter to Captain Moxom, asking him to take me on his boat if there 's a place?" " 'T ain't at all likely there is, my son," an- swered the old man, gravely. "Won't never know unless we trv." Return from the Village. See page 41. Its Inmates. 41 "True, true. ^Vliy, yes, I s'pose I could. 'T ain't no ways sartin' he 'd pay any attention to it though." Yet it was evident the idea pleased him. "He can't any more 'n say 'no,' " said the boy, "and I 'm going to try him, anyhow. Do you s'pose Mr. ]\Iarvin knows him?" "I can't be right sure, my son, but I think it more 'n likely they was at school together. They 're jest about of an age, I should say, or not fur from it. Let me see, it must be near twenty years sence he was here. I s'pose he 's forgot all about me by this time." "You jest write the letter, daddy, and I '11 find out." The next day Joe visited the village, and returned with the welcome intelligence that Perkins could not obtain possession by fore- closure before jS^ovember, and that it was quite possible some one might be found to take up the mortgage and continue the loan. The law- yer had approved the boy's resolution, and cheerfully given him a letter to Captain Moxom, 42 TiiK Hip-roof House. though telling him frankly that he did not think any number of letters Avoiild be of service with "Old Ironsides." Encouraged by this suc- cess, the old man prepared his letter, and Joe, with the two missives in his pocket, started to board the boat commanded by Captain ;^roxom, the most relentless disciplinarian who ever sailed "the Lakes." Chapter III. THE QUEEN OF THE WEST. IT was three o'clock in the morning when Joe reached the harbor. The Qneen of the West was expected at daylight. It was May, hnt the air was raw out on the pier, against which the waves splashed sullenly, for a steady swell came creeping in under the light fog, though there was no wind. Joe shivered as he waited, cling- ing to his little bundle. Two or three schooners were in the harbor, taking on or discharging cargo. Xo one was astir aboard them at that hour. Their rigging creaked and rattled as they rose and fell with the waves. Joe noted everything, and felt homesick at the outset. He had often been at the harbor, but it looked very strange in the dim misty morning. There were a number of passengers waiting for the incom- ing steamer in the bar-room of the tavern at the end of the wharf, and several men lying 43 44 Thk Hip-kuof House. asleep among the loose freight. Joe wondered Avhy they should choose such a place to sleep. One of the travelers waiting for the steamer told him they were sailors, and drunk. Joe shuddered, and almost wished that he had not come. Suddenly out of the mist and the waves sprang the steamer. It seemed like a great, malignant monster bearing down upon the little town with full intent to raze and de- stroy. Black smoke poured out of its two great pipes, the engine puffed and roaix'd, and the tall wdieel-house rose above three spa- cious but almost deserted decks. There came the bellow of escaping steam, tlie straining of ropes, the clangor of command, the rush of noisy feet, a crowd of eager i^assengers, the steady rumble of barrels and boxes rolled and thrown from l)oat to dock, and from dock to boat, cries, curses, and that overwhelming con- fusion that reduces the individual to a nonen- tity — that confusion which is really imperious The Queen of the West. 45 order, lieing only the eager struggle of many for a coiuiuoii purpose. The Queen of the AVest was a marvel. Her paddle-wheels were said to be wdder and higher than any that had ever been built before, and it is an historical fact that none have rivaled them since. Thirty-two feet from rim to rim, and eleven feet from edge to edge were those instruments of her matchless speed. She repre- sented a curious rebellion against the accepted laws of marine mechanics. Though built for speed, she was wide and flat, rather than long and narrow; and though traversing some of the worst waters in the world, her woodwork was of singular lightness. Though intended for pas- sengers, she carried an immense amount of freight, not regularly packed in a closed and battened hold, but heaped indiscriminately, it seemed, between her decks. But with all her incongruities, the Queen of the West was worthy of her fame and the patronage she re- ceived. Whatever might have been her de- 46 The Hii'-rook House. fects, she was achniraLly a(lai)ted for speed and comfort <»n the clio})py waves of the groat lakes. Her hull was stauiieh, and her cahnis and sa- loons would even at this da}' be thought luxuri- ous. Everybody knew that if her fires Avere put out, her engine disabled, or her great paddle- wheels broken in mid-lake, she would be at the mercy of wind and wave; and nowhere in the world are winds more furious or waves more pitiless than on these blue unsalted waters which the ocean sailor affects to despise. Everybody said that sooner or later her time would come. Yet she went on her way year after year, bear- ing thousands of precious lives in safety. Her owners laughed at croakers, and pointed to the fact that she had never lost a passenger, been compelled to throw over a pound of freight, or tie up a single day for repairs. The argument from experience always overpowers the reason- ing based on analogy. So the public not only patronized the Queen of the West, but were as proud of her achievements as her owners and crew themselves. The fare was excellent, the The Queen of the West. 47 officers obliging, the accoiniuodations of the best, and the lioat always on time. AVho won- ders the traveling public regulated their goings and comings by her trips? In those days of dirt and discomfort, neatness, dispatch, and courtesy were qualities worth considering. There was an element of the Queen's suc- cess, however, which did not depend on her builder's skill or faithfulness; Captain David Moxom commanded her. Born upon the shore of one of the great lakes, he had heard in boy- hood the echo of Perry's guns, and had seen the battered fleet and its still worse battered prizes, when they sought the shelter of a friendly lee soon after the fight. The sight caught his boy- ish fancy, and gave him not only inclination for life afloat, but aspiration for command. Early left dependent on his own exertions for support, he went on the lakes during the summer, and attended school during the 'winter while navi- gation was closed. He came to be acquainted with Daddy AVaugh through having "chored'' for him while attending a school of repute in 48 The Hip-roof House. the neighboring village. This school was taught l)y a master wlm had n«>t (inly received a clas- sical education, hut, what was of far more value to young Moxom, had, by some freak of for- tune, been for a time a seafaring man. Of him, the "chore-boy" learned figures, accounts, and something of navigation. This was his educa- tion — a good solid basis on which he thereafter built, by reading and observation, more broadly than might have been expected. He was a fresh-water sailor of a type by no means rare in that region thirty or forty years ago, as un- like the ordinary nautical man as can well be imagined, yet by no means to be despised for lack of seamanship. David ]\Ioxom was a quiet man, whose few words were spoken in calm, even tones. He had little need of strength in the position he now occupied; but every sailor on the lakes knew by experience or tradition the power of his right arm. He was a rigid disciplinarian, though there was none of the debasing servility among the sailors of the merchant fleet upon The Queen of the West. 49 the lakes that is found among the forecastle hands on salt waters. The men were usually of the same social rank as the mates and cap- tain, and when the boat went into winter (quar- ters, would probably go back to the same neigh- borhood, and be just as highly regarded by the community. Indeed, it was not at that day an unusual thing for young men preparing for college to ser^'e as sailors during the summer months, and complete their academic course in the winter. With such men to choose from, Cap- tain Moxom had little trouble in securing com- petent subordinates and an effective crew. He was considered a hard man to serve under; yet situations on the Queen were eagerly sought after. Xo sick maiL ever suifered for lack of attention, and no well man shirked duty there. The captain made no bluster; Imt he knew every man's place and every man's duty, and saw that it was performed. He never interfered with a subordinate while on duty, and never relieved him of responsibility unless absolutely neces- sary. He was always standing by the wheel- 4 50 The Hip-roof House. house when the boat was coming into port, but beyond a wave of the hand to tlie mate or a bow to some acquaintance on the docks, he seemed hardly to notice what was going on. Vet every one knew that no detail of the boat's working escaped his attention. The rubbing of an unoiled bearing would bring him to the engine-room without delay, and a failure to polish the brass stair-plate would lose a steward his place. This man was the real secret of the Queen's success. He was one of her chief owners, and neglected nothing necessary to maintain her reputation. He was indifferent to fatigue, and commanded the confidence of his crew by being always awake and prepared for emergency. Any considerable change in the weather would bring him out of h'^^ cabin, yet he rarely took command in person. "When he did, everybody knew that he considered the emergency press- ing. There were rumors of storms in which he had placed himself at the wheel, and brought her safely through the most intricate and dangerous Thk Queen of the West. 51 passages of the Flats. ''He knows her weight to a pound/' the pilots were aeenstonied to say, "and can carry her safe where nobody else would think of trying to take her." He never lounged with his passengers or chatted with his subordinates. A man of quick resource, inflex- ible will, and untiring attention to his business, was Captain David ^Moxoni of the Queen of the AVest. but a cold, hard man, with whom no one trifled, and to whom few ever had the courage to appeal for favor. This was the person to whom Joe's letter was addressed. The boy saw the cpiiet figure on the wdieel-house, and knew through subtle intuition that it was by his care that almost a thousand passengers slept peace- fully and securely. He judged that Daddy Waugh's intercession would prove of little avail, and feared that the same would be true of Mr. Marvin's. Xevertheless, he shouldered his bundle, and trudged sturdily aboard almost as soon as the gang-plank touched the wharf. Chapter IV. JOE'S FIRST EXPERIENCE ON THE BOAT. ""V/" OV want to see the captain? He 's asleep, ■*■ and would n't see you if he was awake. \Yhere are you going?" "jSTowhere." "Xowhere? The Queen's going somewhere pretty lively, and you 're aboard of her, ain't youT' '*0f course, hut I ain't going anywhere — at least, not till I see the captain." "Indeed! 'Xot till you see the captain?' Shan't I run right up to his state-room and l)ring him down to you?" "O, I can wait till he gets up." "The mischief you can I Xow, see here, my boy, I 'm pretty good-natured, but I can't stand everything. Just tell me where you 're going, and pay your fare like a little man, without any more fooling." 52 Experience ox the: Boat. 53 "My fare?" "Yes, your fare." "I have n't any money." "Then \vhat are you on hoard the Queen of the AVest for? People do n't travel on her with- out money." "I came to see the captain." "O, you did I He '11 he highly honored, no doubt; hut he don't carry passengers for fun. Xow, you just fork over the money for your passage, or I shall have to take that bundle of yours, and put you ashore at the first landing." The clerk of the Queen of the AVest, passing through the boat after she had left the dock, had found Joe on the lower deck, sitting on a piece of baggage with his little bundle beside him, ^vatching in quiet wonder the new and bustling scene about him. Behind the clerk was a colored waiter in a white jacket, whose business it seemed to be to point out the new passengers to the collector of fares. This man could not restrain his mirth at Joe's replies, and his laughter seemed to annoy the clerk. 54 The Hip-roof House. Avlio, as lie uttered tlie last words, reached for- ward to take Joe's bundle. The boy was too quick for him, however, and, snatching it up, he sprang nimbly to one side, only to find him- self confronted by the colored man, barring his escape. Seeing himself hemmed in, the boy backed up against a pile of freight, put his bundle behind him, and coolly prepared to do battle for his possessions. ''You hain't got no right to take my things," he protested, ''and you- shan't — you, nor your nigger, either.'' "Take it away from him, Tom," said the clerk, quietly; "we 've had enough of these beg- gars sponging rides. It was only last trip the old man gave me a rating for letting a little scamp beat me out of a fare." "I ain't no beggar," said Joe, stoutly, "and I do n't want to beat nobody out of anything. I 've got a letter for the captain, and just as quick as I got aboard, I asked the red-whiskered man that was chawing tobacco and swearing at the hands, where the captain was, and he told Experience on the Boat. 55 me to sit right down here and he 'd see 't I got sight of him after a while." "Bring the bnndle along, Tom," was the clerk's answer, impatiently turning toward the companion-way; "we can't waste any more time on the little whelp. If he won't pay we shall have to take his truck and put him off at Erie." The porter was a jolly fellow, who had no idea of declining to do what he was told. At the same time he had no wish to hurt the lad. He knew very well the clerk's only moti^•e was to frighten him into paying his fare. Joe, how- ever, had never seen a colored person but once or twice, and regarded them as little better than ogres. "Don't touch me, you black nigger," he screamed, putting himself into an attitude of defense as the porter came towards him. "Xow, bub," said the Xegro, in a not un- kindly tone, "you jes ez well fork out your money an' go 'long peaceable-like, kase ef yer do n't 1 'se bound ter take that ar bundle of ole clo'es, shore. 56 The Hip-roof House. "You '11 get hurt if you touch me," said the boy, drawing down his heavy brows until they veiled the angry light of the eyes below. "La, chile, who you s'pose is afeard on ye? Ef you was a man grow'd, now, I would n't min' takin' a bout with ye, but 't would n't be no sort o' fun to hab a squabble with a bit uv a boy like yo is." Speaking in this pacificatory tone, the man had been artfully edging nearer to the sullen lad, and, as he concluded, made a sudden dive for the bundle which lay at the boy's feet. If the movement was a surprise to the owner, he quickly recovered from it, and before his as- sailant could remove his prize, two hands were locked in the mass of kinky hair that adorned his head. A curious struggle ensued. Despite the disproportion in size, the advantage seemed for a time to be with Joe. Holding down the porter's head, he made it necessary for him to use his hands to support himself, and so the boy was protected from blows. The clerk, hear- ing the noise of the scuffle, returned to the foot Experience ox the Boat. 57 of the gangway, and stood convulsed with laughter at the ludicrous spectacle. ''Hang on to hun, youngster," he cried. ''Do n't let him butt you. If you manage to tame that black sheep, I '11 be hanged if you don't ride free, if I have to pay your fare myself." The Xegro, on hands and knees, pushed the boy about the deck, endeavoring to get hold of his feet. Hearing the clerk's laughter, a volley of curiously compounded oaths burst from his lips. Suddenly, he threw himself on his back, and catching the boy, who thus lost his van- tage, sprang quickly to his feet. Holding him at arm's length, he gave Joe blow after blow with open palm upon the side of his head. "Kick his shins'. Kick his shins!'' shouted the clerk, nearly suffocated with laughter. The boy, maddened and desperate as he was, recalled the popular tradition and applied his heavy boots with merciless force to the point in- dicated. Unable to endure the pain, the por- ter's temper gave way, and, with a hnal l»low 58 Thk Hii'-Roop House. M'itli his fist, he knocked his turmentcr back upon the deck. As he did so, some one leaped from the darkness at the side of the gangway, and seizing the Xegro, hurled him against the piled-up baggage as if he had been a child. At the same time, with a spluttering admixture of oaths and salivation, he exclaimed: ''What d 'je mean? AVhat ye doin' with that boy? What ye here for anyhow? You — you miserable black rascal?' "I was jes obeyin' orders, sah," said the ob- sequious porter, picking himself up. ''Orders! Whose orders?"' "Mr. Slocum's, sah," with a gesture toward the clerk, now vainly struggling to restrain his mirth. "What business has he got givin' orders and assaulting passengers on my deck?" '"The boy would n't })ay his fare," began the clerk. "S'pose he did n't," spluttered the irate sailor. "Did n't he tell ye I told him to set there till I got time to take him to the 'old man?' " Experience on the Boat. 59 "Yes," admitted tlie clerk, alarmed at tlio trouble he had innocently gotten into. "And "was n't he settin' there as peaceable as a kitten?" "Yes, but—" "Do n't you say another word, Gil Slocum, not another word, er I shan't be able to keep my hands off ye. I feel 's if I ought to whip both on ye. D 'ye hear, l)oth on ye ? But I won't. Xot now, anyway. AVhen we get to Buffalo, we '11 see which the old man cares most about keepin', Gil Slocum an' a nigger, or Jesse :N^ewlin." "'Really, Mr. Xewliu,'' said the clerk, who was both manly and good-natured, "there was no idea of interfering with your authority.'' "I s'pose not — s'pose not," answered i^Tewlin, expectorating vigorously; "but you hadn't no business pryin' round here and meddlin' with the boy, nolu.w. AVe don't carry any cabin passengers on the lower deck — not while I 'm in charge at least, Mr. Slocum." "But you see, Mr. Xewlin, the old man is 60 Thk IIii'-RooF House. sure to know just liow niauy coiiif ou aud go off at every port, and hold lae responsible for every passenger, no matter where ho rides." "I do n't carry passengers here without mak- ing it right witli the ohl man, Mr. Slocum. You know that, and you were n't never held responsible for any one that rode here ^vhen it was my v;atcli below." "Perhaps, Mr. Xewlin — " began the clerk. "There ain't no perhaps about it. If it 's got so that I can't give an honest boy a lift, during my trick atween decks, I '11 just go on some other boat where they ain't so almighty particular. That 's all. There, there, sonny," he said, patting Joe on the head as he stood with clenched hands and tightly shut teeth, .drawing long sobs, and trying to repress the tears of anger rather than pain that ran down his cheeks. "But, Mr. Xewlin, you know the old man holds me responsible — " began the 4 TiiK Hip-roof House. liimself in })ickhig- up the pieces of tlie shat- tered bowl, "that any of the neighbors had such an nnmannei'ly cnl). AVho be ye, anyhow^" The old man looked over his glasses at the smil- ing boy. "Joe Thompson, sir," with another salnte. ''Joe what?" asked the old man, with a i)uz- zled look — "Joe Thompson — Joe — \g don't mcanr' peering eagerly into his faee — "Blessed ef it ain't — ou7- Joe!" The old man caught him by the arms, and drew him close. "Our Joe and nobody else!" he exclaimed, as he patted the boy's shoulder, while the tears ])oured down his gentle face. "And to think T didn't know him," reproachfully; "a boy as good as he is, that has only been away such a little time! But how you have growu, lad! And in them clothes, too! I began to think my eyes was failin', but T don't believe 'Cindy herself would ha' known ye, jest on a sud- den so." A Visit to Home. 95 "I 'm sorry about tlie bowl, Daddv Waugli/' said Joe, archly. ''O, bother the bowl I I 'd be willing to see all the dishes in the house broke for a sight o' you, lad. How d'ye do? I needn't ask that, though. Any one can see you were never so well before. How d 'ye git here, an' what d 'ye mean playin' tricks on yer old daddy that way ?" The old man had his arms about the boy's waist. Joe was absently stroking the thin, gray hair that curled away from the bald head-crown and rested like a silver circlet on his neck, when a quick step was heard upon the planks at the back door. '' 'Cindy!" said Joe, in a half-whisper. With a warning look and liis hand on his lips, he sprang behind the door. The old man turned to watch the expected surprise as 'Cindy en- tered. She had grown even more than her ])oy- jilaymate, during the summer. Two braids of i-ii-li, auburn hair hung below her waist, and her fair face was Hushed with ruddv health. 96 The Hip-roof Housk. She carried a tin pail nearly full of milk, and as she threw back the door, effectually conceal- ing Joe, she said in lond, but cheerful, tones: ^'Grandpa, I don't believe we 'd better wait for Joe to come 'fore we begin to gather the apples. I wish the land he was here — " Two hands were clapped over her eyes be^ fore she could utter another word. "Ha^ ha!" laughed the old man. "That's what ye git for talkin' 'bout them ye think do n't hear ye." The young girl did not manifest any sur- prise, beyond the fact that her face became suffused with crimson and her lips were wreathed in smiles. "It 's Joe," she said. Joe kissed her before he restored her vision, and when he had removed his hands and put an arm around her waist, her eyes were full of tears. Something the boy saw in their depths led him to kiss the full, red lips once more — this time even more tenderly. "There, there," said the old man, jocosely; A Visit to Homk. 97 "do n't be goin' on with any more of yonr sailor ways. Is that the way you treat the girls i" "That 's the way I treat 'Cindy, Daddy Waugli," said Joe. "'(^uise she's my little wife, you know — always has been, and always going to be." ''Haven't you forgot that?" asked 'Cindy, as she started toward the pantry with her milk. There was a deeper flush upon her face, how- ever, and her voice did not betray dissatisfac- tion. "_Xo," retorted the boy, saucily, "I have n't forgot it, and do ti't ever mean to forget it." "Sho, sho," said the old man, in a tone of mock disapproval; "won't ye never git over yer boy pranks?" "Spect not, daddy. Feel as if I 'd have to dance a hornpipe now to keep myself from fly- ing away." Setting his cap jauntily upon one side, the frolicsome boy wheeled a chair out of the way, sprang into the middle of the floor, and began to execute the breathless movements that seem 7 98 The Hip-roof House. to be the cliiiiax of the sailor's idea of saltatory achievement. ''Laud sakes! Only see the boy! 'Cindy! 'Cindy! Do look at him." The old man lifted his thin hands in half-protesting amazement. The injunction was unnecessary. 'Cind}' was already standing in the doorway, watching with admiration this new accomplish- ment of her playmate. "Bless my soul I'' con- tinued the old man, "ain't ye never goin' to stop? Why, you 'II shake your legs off, boy, besides upsettin' everything in the house, and bringin' the Hip-roof down about our ears, the first thing ye know. Stop! you young varmint! Here, where 's my hammer?" fumbling among his tools on the little bench before him. "I de- clare I '11 throw this mallet at ye if ye do n't quit." He raised the weapon with a merr^- twinkle in his eyes, which showed how he enjoyed the presence of the healthy lad and his innocent pranks. Joe bowed low, kissed his hand as he swept the floor with his cap, pirouetted lightly A Visit to Homk. 99 liiic'k to "Ciiidv, and surprised that yoiiiig lady with another kiss. ^'I declare, 'Cindy/' extdainied the old man, "we '11 have to have the constable in to keep that young cub straight. The lake 's sp'ilt him, 'Cindy, clean sp'ilt him. Only think of such carryin's on in the Hip-roof House! Kissin' an' dancin'! Xot that I mind kissin' — in mod- eration, of course — but the dancin' ! That 's an abomination! An such dancin'! Why, it 's enough to take one's breath away. An' I a deacon, too — that is, I was before I was buried. 1 do n't know as I 'm anvthing now!" "O, you nnist n't scold Joe the first thing after he 's been away so long," said 'Cindy, "'or perhaps he won't come again!" "Scold him? Bless your dear soul, who ever thought of scoldin'? Can't an old man have the privilege of carryin' on a little, even if he can't dance? Come here, both on ye! Let me take your hands, an' look at ye together. I say for it, you are a pair to be proud of! An' you love your «»ld daddy, do n't ye, just the same as ever? 100 The Hii'-kook House. Au' ye 're still cliildren, too — jest as loviii' and kind as when ye Avent awav. (), the Lord is good! I asked him to hring- l)aek my boy, an' he brought me a man with a boy's lieart! 'T ain't many has such a boy an' snch a girl to comfort their old age — not many! We can afford to have a mortgage on the old house while we've got sueli treasures in it!" "But we won't have that mortgage long, daddy," said Joe, eagerly. "I b'lieve ye, son, I b'lieve ye; but go away now — go away, you an' 'Cindy. I want to be alone an' think, an' I would n't have ye see me cryin' for anything in the world — I would n't, truly,*" he added, with ludicrous pro- testations, while the tears ran down his fur- rowed cheeks. The children knew his moods, and, kissing him tenderly, withdi-ew, and left him to render thanks to that One greatest, whose lessons of charity he had so well learned. T Chapter VHI. TOE'S PROJECT. HE impatient lad declared that lie "must go and look around" at once, and 'Cindy must go with him. The girl objected, saying she must prepare the evening meal; but he as- serted imperiously that it could wait, but he must see the orchard before the daylight ended. 'Cindy assented half-reluctantly, and yet with a secret contentment that showed in looks and tone as they left the house and took the path toward the spring. The sunset glow lighted the heavy-laden trees, and the scent of the fallen fruit filled the air. The boy talked eagerly. The girl listened half-doubtfully. He was positive, masterful. The instinct of owner- ship, possession, achievement, had awakened in his soul. This was the Hip-roof place which he would redeem from a creditor's hand. He was paying back the debt of his infancy, and 101 102 The Hip-koof House. saving from ^vallt tlie iiiaii wlio liad taken pity on his helplessness. He was thinking not so much of himself as his aspirations and achieve- ments. 'Cindy walked beside him alert and eager, but thoughtful and subdued. She was thinking of him, and wondering why the boy who returned was not exactly the one who had gone away five months before. She was sure he was different, and was not certain that she would like him quite as well — or rather, if he would like her so well as had the playmate she had lost. ''Tell you what, 'Cindy," said Joe, with a somewhat pronounced assertiveness of manner, "there don't anybody get the Hip-roof place while we 're on deck, do theyf 'T guess not, Joe," — doubtfully. "Guess not? I don't guess; I know. It's everything in taking hold, you see." "Yes?" "Of course it is. Only think, 't ain't hardly half a year since Daddy Waugh was going to give up, and let that mean 'Siah Perkins take Joe's Project. 103 the place at his own price, and go to the county house, himself. But that was n't our notion, was it, 'Cindy ^" "You know grandpa is old and feeble," said the girl, apologetically. "Exactly"— not noticing the implied re- proach, because he had not intended any re- flection — "and that 's the reason we have to take hold and think for him, as well as do for him." "O, we could n't get along without grandpa to plan and advise," "Xo, no," rejoined the boy. "But he do n't do to depend on any more. AVe 've got to look after things, and save the old place ourselves." "Of course we must do what we can. Do n't seem to me as if I could do much," murmured the girl. "iS'o, 't ain't as if you were a boy," answered Joe, condescendingly, utterly ignoring the prayer for appreciation that lurked in her tones; " 't ain't as if you were a boy; but I tell you, 'Cindy, there ain't many girls that would take 104 The Hip-koof House. hold all alone and keep things together and a running, and have 'em look as well as they do now, after five months." (Qualified as the praise was, it was frank and hearty, and the light came into the girl's eyes and the color into her cheeks as she looked up at Joe, and said timidly: "I did the best I could, Joe." The sunset glow was on her face, and a heav- ily-laden bough of blood-red Spitzenbergs hung just behind, as Joe turned to her. She was a fair and waiting Madonna, framed in russet- green, bedecked with Pompeian red, and lighted with a golden aureole. Though he did not know it, the boy forgot himself in the glory of her loveliness. He forgot his achievements, his aspiration, seeing, remembering only her. "^'I declare, 'Cindy, you are pretty — never saw a girl grow handsome as fast in my life," he said, with characteristic positiveness. AVoman is made to be wooed, and nothing restores the equanimity of even the most un- practiced feminine, so quickly as admiration. Joe and ^Cindy in the Orchard. See page 104. Joe's Project. 105 So, instead of growing confused, a look of (juiet satisfaction stole into 'Cindy's eyes, and she said demurely: "You were saying something about — about the old placed' "Was I?" returned Joe, absently. "O yes, I was saying that I was n't inclined to give it up just because 'Siah Perkins had a mortgage on it. Xeither were you, for that matter," he added, catching a flash in her eye. "You stood by me like — like a — " "Like a sister, Joe," she suggested. "AVell, that ain't what I was going to say, but I s'pose it 's what I ought to say. I do n't know nothing 'bout sisters, 'cept you, and you ain't my sister, and I 'm glad of it, too." "AVhy, Joe, I did n't think you 'd ever say that to me. I 'm sure I 've tried to be a good sister." There was reproach in her voice, and Joe thought she was going to cry. "O, I did n't mean you were n't good — you know I did n't," he hastened to say, "What did vou mean, then?" The tone was 106 Thk Hip-roof Housk. iiie-rediiloiis, aiul implied that the shower was only delayed. "I iiicant-^-you know what I meant, 'Cindy." ^'I am sure I can't imagine — what — else — you — could — mean !" There were actually tears in the brown eyes now. ''Why, I — I just meant — " said Joe, pulling the seed from a dry stalk of timothy that stood beside him, in awkward embarrassment, "that I was glad you were n't my sister — 'cauac — 'cause I want you some day for my wife." "Why, Joe!" In well-simulated surprise 'Cindy put her apron over her face, and laid her head on the boy's shoulder to conceal her blushes. "There, there, sissy," he said, stroking her hair, and thinking how delicate was the pink of the little ear, framed between the blue- checked apron and the red-gold braid; "there, there, I did n't mean to say anything wrong." "I do n't s'pose there 's anything wrong Joe's Project. 107 about it," came in a smothered voice from his shoulder, "only — only — " "Only what, "Cindy?" ''Only — I — I — never thought of it before," with an innocent sigh. ^'^O, I 'spect not," returned Joe, in matter-of- fact superiority. " 'T wa'n't at all necessary. There 's time enough for that after we 'vc got the old place clear, and made Daddy AVaugh a free man. That 's what we 're going to do first, ain't it, 'Cindy?" "I believe you will, Joe," she said, looking up earnestly into his eyes, willing to pay hom- age to the king, now that he had surrendered, and doing so with the subtle self-obliteration which is the crucial test of womanly devotion. "Of course we will," responded Joe, refusing to accept the proffered adulation. "We 've done the hardest part of it already. It did n't look very bright when I set off to ])oard the Queen, and you stopped at home to take care of things and look after Daddy Waugh, did it, 108 Thk Hip-rook House. "Cindy ^ But I'\e got twenty-tive dollars toward paying' ofY the mortgage, and I may be able to spare a little more." The boy spoke proudly, and laid the bills in the girl's band as he did so. They were the first fruits of his maidiood, and he felt that he was entitled to enjoy her approval of all the courage and self-denial they attested. She took the little roll of bills, opened it, and counted them carefully. She had never seen so much money at one time before. After she had counted them, she put her arms about the boy's neck, her cheeks aglow with honest pride, and said in a tone of irrepressible exultation: "O Joe, you are so good — so good!" "^o, I ain't good," he protested; " 't ain't nothing more 'n any other boy 'd 've done — nor as much as a good many, perhaps. 'T was all I could do, though. I was afraid Daddy Waugh 'd get discouraged, it came so slow. Five dollars a month for five months; you see it 's just twenty-five dollars. I 've got a little Joe's Project. 109 more, 'cause the captain gave me a cliance for extras, but I can't let it all go, you know." ''Certainly not," asserted 'Cindy, not know- ing any reason in the world why not, but sure that the bustling lad who had already earned and saved so much must be quite right in any business deductions he might make. She had much the same regard for him that a curbstone broker has for the opinions of a Vanderbilt or a Jay Gould. ''You see, I may not be at home this winter," eToo continued, with a provoking air of mystery. "Xot at home this winter! AVhy, where -will you be^'' Surprise, almost alarm, was in her voice. * "In Buffalo." "Buffalo?" There was no mistaking the alarm now. "Yes," unconcernedly. "I 've had an offer of a job there for the winter." "And you 're going to be there all winter?" Then there was silence. She was twisting; 110 The Hir-ROOK House. the bills about her fingers as carelessly and un- conseionsly as if slie were the danghter of a millionaire. "But do you think, Joe, you oiiglit to leave grandpa so long^ You know the winter is a hard time for him.'' "I 've thought of it," said Joe, seriously, "and the chores and all that. Of course, you couldn't do them — and there couldn't but one. of us go to school if I was at home." "Xo," sighed the girl. She was fond of her books, was the best scholar in the district school, and the one wish, of her heart was to attend the academy for a few terms, so that she might be able to teach. "Of course not, — it would n't be safe, and is n't necessary. I could study at home, and you could help me evenings." That was the way 'Cindy put it. Ever since Daddy Waugh had become so infirm as to re- quire attendance, they had taken their school- ing "turn and turn about," as the old man ex- pressed it, Joe going to school in the winter, and 'Cindy in the summer. .But no matter JoK's Project. Ill whose turn it was in the school-house, it was the girl's thirst for knowledge that kept them at their best. "Well," said Joe, "you see I thought we might get a student to board, who would look after the chores, and perhaps help you with your studies, too. There won't be much to do. I shall look after the wood before I leave, and you '11 have everything handier and plentier than we 've had in a long time." "That 's true," sighed the girl, as they wan- dered on toward the spring. The sun had gone down, but the full October moon made the orchard as light as day. The girl put her checked apron over her head, and shivered shghtly. Joe put his arm around her, and drew her to him. "It 's chilly, 'Cindy, but I want to talk to you about these things. You know we '11 have to settle them ourselves, ami l»ring Daddy AVaugh around to 'em afterwards." There is a good deal of warmth in a boy's arm, but 'Cindy thought only of the earnest 112 The Hip-roof House. tones, and kept saying to herself: "How good he is!" They were an odd pair of lovers — per- haps they were not lovers at all. Those who write about lovers seem not to find any such, nowadays, at least. They were not at all jeal- ous or suspicious, nor were they inclined to for- get that there were others in the world besides themselves. There was nothing mean nor petty about their affection for each other, and neither, had any idea of making the other suffer, or of suffering themselves, because of their attach- ment. They talked of the future as uncon- sciously as if they had but one life to parcel out, and each had an equal share in its pleasures and duties. Surely it could not be love, for a man who professes to know more about affairs of heart than anybody else has written: "Such things may once have happened — in Arcadia — but never in America." And as Joe and 'Cindy were in America, not in Arcadia, they could not have been lovers. Yet one can not help wishing they had been. It would be sweet to read again of a pure love, tainted Joe's Project. 113 neither with .suspicion nor shame, and to think that young- Americans could believe in and de- sire such love. So let us believe that Joe and 'Cindy were real lo\'ers of the best and truest type — those who think not of themselves so much, but of others more, as they stood in the orchard and talked. He told her of his oppor- tunity and plans. She would not assent until lie spoke of going to school. To her, knowledge was the golden key to prosperity, happiness, and honor. She saw at once that such an ex- perience would be valuable to him, and with a sigh she surrendered her own sweet dream of a happy winter, never once mentioning that she liad been dreaming, lest she should mar the happiness of the boy who had suddenly become much more of a man than any one but she suspected. When the question was settled, they started to the house to submit the matter to Daddy AVaugh, and persuade him, if persuasion were needed, to concur. Chapter IX. THE APPLE-CROP. '•'T'lIE old orchard is just outdoing itself tins A year, ain't itf said Joe, as tliey strolled back under the laden branches, their feet evt-rv now and then slipping and stumbling over the fallen apples that lay thick among the rank herbage. ''Yes, indeed," answered 'Cindy, "and the best of it is, there is hardly any fruit in the whole country around. It seems almost wicked to say it, but I can't help being real glad, for it makes our apples worth so much more. I am sorry for them that will be without, but it does seem like a real Providence that our trees should be so full, and such nice fruit too, when it is scarce everywhere else. Grandpa says he thinks every apple on the trees has been en- gaged by folks who will come right here for them, with nothing to do but i)ick 'em and measure 'em up — no barreling or hauling at all.'' lU The Apple-Crop. 115 It was -Cindy's turn to tell of the summer's doings, and she was to the full as enthusiastic about what had happened in and around the Hip-roof House as her companion had been of the events on board the Queen. ''Grandpa says it '11 make your words good, and more too. He thinks it '11 pay off a third of the mortgage, and perhaps half of it: Init I think it '11 do more than that. You see all the apples are engaged for the market price at the gathering-time, and grandpa has put it down in writing, and had it signed every time, so there can't be any mistake or trouble about it." "That was a good idea," said the boy ap- provingly; "that's the way they do business in the cities." "0, he 's been very careful and anxious," continued 'Cindy, "and when he shows you his book of orders, you must n't let him know that I 've told you anything. He 's awfully proud of it, and has kept it with such care, saying all the time that with a boy to go away and earn money, and a girl to stay at home and take care 116 Thk Hii'-RooF House. of hiiii, the least he could do was to look after the bu.siness for tlicin. You see he calls it all yours, and tells everybody they are your apples, and that you '11 have to approve the contracts. Tie would n't make no definite engagement for the winter apples, because he said he did n't know what your plans were; but all them that spoke for fruit were told they could have what- ever quantity they named, if you had n't made any other arrangements. Everybody kind o' laughed at his childishness, but said 'all right,' they 'd take 'em on that condition. They knew, of course, that you would n't be looking up a market for apples in Buffalo or any other big city." "Well, that 's just where they made a mis- take," said Joe, proudly. "What!" exclaimed the girl. "You don't mean to say you 've sold 'em? That would be too bad! You see, most of the folks who have bought are farmers down in the southern part of the county along the State road, where The Apple-Crop. 117 there are no apples at all this year. They 've just taken a few bushels apiece for their fam- ilies. I suspect they mean them for a surprise to their "wives and children. I should hate ever so much to have them disappointed." ''O, I hain't sold 'em,'' said Joe, '"but I 've found out what the market price is, and what I can get for just as many as I am a mind to take down the lake. I 've got it in black and ^vhite, too, from men who deal in 'em, and want 'em mighty bad. You see, there 's hardly any apples anywhere, and what there are, are poor. One man said, and wrote it down too, that he 'd take a thousand barrels if I 'd get 'em there be- fore !N^ovember, so 't he could ship 'em by canal. Captain Moxom says he '11 take all we care to send down to Bulfalo on the Queen and not charge a cent for freight. That, you see, will leave us just the market rate clear, except the barrels and hauling, for the merchants there take 'em at the dock. The Golden Sweets and Harvest apples that you sent I got a dollar a 118 Thk Hip-roof House. bushel for; and if I Vl known as nnicli as I do now, and liad the time to look aronnd, I should have got more." "You don't say!" exclaimed the girl, in amazement. ''Why, we sold 'em to the team- sters and peoj)le traveling the road for ten cents a peck, and grandpa said that was extraordi- nary. I do n't think he would ever have thought of charging more 'n half that if a gen- tleman had n't stopped the stage one day, and asked for some apples. He took a dozen or so, and wanted to know how much he should pay. Grandpa told him he was welcome to them; he had n't ever sold apples by the dozen, he said, and did n't 'low he ever should. Then the stranger asked what he would take for a peck, and when grandpa told him he s'posed about five cents, he threw me a quarter, and said it was a sin to sell such apples at that rate. The driver told me that there was n't any other ap- ples on his run, and said if I 'd have a peck or so ready every day, he did 'iit doubt his passen- gers would take 'em all. So, after that, I al- The Apple-Crop. 119 ways bad a basketful ready as long as tbe early apples lasted, and sometimes sold two or tbree peeks to the tra^'elers in tbe stage. After tbat came tbe Pound Sweets and tbe Pumpkin Sweets and tbe little 'ISTutmegs/ — tbe nicest tins y(>ar tbey ever were. I tried to save a few for you, but am afraid tbey bave all rotted. 1 '11 see wben we go in. Then came tbe Pearmains and tbe Fall Pippins and tbe Pellybounds." 'Cindy bad never beard of Belles et bonnes, and would bave been surprised to know tbat sbe was talk- ing Frencli. *' After a Avbile 1 began to ask fifteen cents for a basketful, but I did not let grandpa know I got more tban ten. I bope it was n't wrong. Xobody ever complained, and I was afraid to say anytbing about it, for fear be would n't let me do it. ''But tbe teamsters going to and from tbe barl)(>r took tbe most of tbom. You know tbey used always to stop and 1k'1|) themselves to 'Old Killis AVaugb's' ajtples just as free as if tbey 'd been tbeir own. Tbey began to do tbe same tbis year, and I kept begging grandpa to put up 120 Thk Hip-roof House. a sign or get a dog, or contrive some way to stop 'em, but he would n't. Seemed as if lie was ashamed to think anybody shoidd n't be free to take jnst as many apples from the orchard at the Hip-roof House as they wanted. *We never forbid 'em in your grandma's time,' he would say, 'and I can't bear to think of doing it now.' ''They stripped the trees by the roadside, and seemed likely to run off with all that were ripe, till one day I could n't stand it any longer. Two or three men had stopped, and were pick- ing 'em up in baskets, while one was up in the tree shaking them down. I went out and told them they must n't take our apples. They laughed, and, though they were n't real impu- dent, they did n't pay no attention to me, but just talked slangy, and went right on picking up the apples, kind of saying at me that they took '('111 because they wanted 'em, and that was reason enough. One of the teams had on a load of cheese, and as they would n't stop taking the apples, I climbed over the fence, got up in the Thk Applk-Ckop. 121 wagon, rolled out one of the cheeses, and started toward the house with it. "The man it belonged to happened to be the one in the tree, and did n't see nie till the others hollered to him that I was carrying it off. Then he sputtered and stormed and cursed, and told them to stop me. They asked what T was doing. I told them as they had told me; I was taking the cheese because I wanted it, and if that was a good enough reason for taking apples, I thought it was good enough for taking cheese. So I went on to the house, and locked the cheese in the pantry. Presently, along came the team- ster, swearing awfully and vowing he 'd get out a warrant for stealing. That frightened me, and I think I would have gone and given it back right away; but when the others came in and saw grandpa, and how bad off he was, they seemed abashed like, and tried not to let Ihe first one talk so bad, but ho kept right on swearing," "I wish I had been there," said the boy, clenching his lists, with flashing eyes. 122 The Hip-roof House. "O, I would n't Lave had it for the world! I do believe they would have killed you!" "I\ot much," was the answer. "But how did it end?" "Well, it happened that just about that time Lawyer ]\Iarvin, who represents the man that holds the mortgage, came in to get some apples himself. When he found out what was going on, you just ought to 've heard the setting up he a'ave those men. Thev 'd been talking bad enough, but he talked a deal worse, only it was all proper, you know. He told 'em how things were; what hard times we were having trying to pay off the mortgage; how Killis AVaugh had set out and nursed and cared for the or- chard, and raised and given away 'most all the apple-trees in the country round, never refusing anybody all the apples they could eat or carry away in their hands or pockets. Then he called them ^cowards' and 'hogs' and 'thieves;' told them that I had done just right, and that if they did n't pay grandpa ten dollars, he 'd have The Apple-Crop. 123 a warrant against tlieiu for stealing, as soon as lie conld drive over to Squire Bartlet and swear it ont. Grandpa, lie kept protesting, but Mr. ^Marvin was jnst grand. I did n't know a man eonld make other men so afraid of liim by liis words." "You 'd ought to see Captain Moxom," said Joe, anxious for the fame of his hero. ''A\^ell, he could n't beat Mr. Marvin, I 'm sure. AVhy, those men just backed out of the house, and after a while came back as humble as you please with the ten dollars. And one of 'em said he 'd a good deal rather pay that much more, than have it known he 'd been in such a dirty mean scrape. They did n't mean any- thing wrong, he said; were just thoughtless- like, and hoped Mr. Waugh and the young lady would forgive them for their rudeness, and for- get it. You see, I 've got to be a young lady since you went away, sir," she ad(h'd, (•()([uet- tishly. ''Well, you ought to be after that. It was 324 Thk Hir-KOOF House. rather hard to make them pay so much, though," said the boy, whose earnings had made him sympathetic with capitaL "That 's Avhat grandpa thouglit. He said he did n't suppose they liad taken more 'u a dolhir's worth of apples, and he wasn't going to take money of a neighbor, just because he 'd done wrong unthoughtedly. " "They ought to have paid for acting so,- though." "That 's what Lawyer Marvin said, and pro- posed a compromise, as he called it; that they should each take five dollars worth of apples at the market price. This they all agreed to, the man that owned the cheese saying he M throw that in. So, after it was all settled, grandpa asked them to stay to dinner, and Lawyer Mar- vin, he staid too. AVe had lots of eggs and ham and potatoes, and I made some biscuits and had a big loaf of Indian bread, a plate of beans baked the Saturday before, and this was Monday, and I have n't seen such grand times here since I can remember." Thk Apple-Crop. 12o ''That was good," said Joe, heartily. "I b'lieve Daddy AVanjih '11 get around yet. If folks only realized what he 's done, and how fi'ood he is, there would n't be no doubt of it — " "Lawyer ]\[arvin said just that," interrupted. 'Cindy. "And the men from down the road, agreed with him, too; and they 're coming for their apples this week. O, they were real nice men when you come to know them, but they frightened me awfully at first." "Naturally," said the boy, patronizingly. "But the best thing about it was after they had gone," said the girl, flushing even in the moonlight. "I went into the pantry, and found they \l come round, I s'pose after we thought they had gone, tore the slats off the window, and put in two other cheeses, as big again as the one I took, and left a note, saying they were a present to the young lady Svho fell among thieves.' AVas n't that good?" "First rate," assented Joe. "But that wasn't all. They told about it, all u[) and down the road, and there hasn't a 126 The Hip-rook House. man nor a boy toiu-lied one of those apples since. I do n't know exactly, but I think grandpa must have something near lif ty dollars in the drawer under his work-bench, and he thinks there '11 be four hundred bushels of winter apples, which at a quarter of a dollar a bushel—" "A quarter of a dollar a bushel!" exclaimed Joe. "We '11 see about that!" Chapter X. DRIVING A BARGAIN. IT was a busy week at the Hip-roof House that followed Joe's return. Both Daddy Waugh and Joe were fearful that their anticipations might be too great; Imt neither had begun to estimate the real yield of the old orcdiard, and the week's work only showed that another was waiting to be done. During the seven days, however, Joe rose from the rank of "Killis AVaugh's Boy" to be the undoubted head of the establishment. Daddy AVaugh alone was un- aware of his kindly deposition. He still planned and planned exceedingly well, as he had always done — for others; the only trouble with his life having been an inability to carry out his own designs. Fortunately this duty was now in- trusted to one who had been trained under the Captain of the Queen. Two of the neighbors had l^een engaged long 127 12S TiiE Hip-KOOF House. in advance, and were on liand briglit and early on the ]\l«inn and a team of nnilos to assist in taking tlie frnit to the barn, where it was to be stored until sold, or the com- ing of cold weather. Probably Daddy Waugh had never in his life given so many orders as his active executive suggested, revised, and transmitted to the orchard from the old man's • seat upon the porch, during the momentous week. Before the first day ended. Daddy AVaugh had received a new title, and was called '^Cap- tain,'' as generally as he had previously been known as "Squire" or "Daddy." Joe had been so accustomed to refer to the "Captain" as the source of authority, that when he took charge of the workers in the orchard under Daddy Waugh's instructions, he unconsciously con- tinued the old habit, saying: "The 'Captain' says we 're to begin on this tree of 'Signiferders' (Seek-no-Furthers) 'cause they 're right here in the way, an '11 get all Driving a Bargain. 129 Iriunpcd and sina^^licd up if we carry the otliers over 'em.'' "That 's the Captain's orders, is it?" asked one of the hired men, Avith a good-natured smile. The other chuckled, and 'Cindy, who was standing by, her sleeves rolled up and her dish-pan under her arm waiting to see the day's work begun before she commenced the unusual task of providing dinner for so many — 'Cindy laughed outright. ''Guess you forgot you were n't on the Queen, didn't you, Joef asked the neighbor. "Xo, I did n't," said the boy, promptly, but hardly truthfully, it is to be feared. "Well, who do you call Captain when you 're ashore ?" asked the man who had first spoken, "Daddy Waugh, of course," answered Joe. "He 's captain and owner; 'Cindy 's cook; I 'm cabin-boy, and you and your mules is 'all hands.' " This sally was greeted by a burst of laughter. The man who had made the inipiiry was a bit 180 The Hip-roof House. of a waii' liinisclf, and, tlioui;li lie hanllv relished the classitication, he admitted the fairness of the hit. 'J'he other man was one of those who never have a fnnny thoni>ht, except by sugges- tion. To liim, the idea that his companion had been trapped in his own joke was indescribably hidicrous. He was a man of middle age, round- faced, thick set, and noted throughout the neigh- borhood as good-natured and hard working. His )iame was Wellman — most inappropriately pro- named Melancthon. He was eating an apple when the conversation began, having picked a soft one from among the fallen Seek-no-Fur- thers, which he carefully pared with a large jack- knife, and was transferring to his mouth in liberal sections with the same instrument. His teeth were rather poor, and mastication was not only a laborious but a somewhat noisy pro- cess. AVhen the force of Joe's reply became fully apparent to him, a (piick inhalation suc- ceeded by a sudden exhalation, carried with it a shower of fragments of half-masticated apple, Driving a Bargain. 131 and lie coniiiiGneed coiigliing almost as soon as lie began to laugh. '*0 — you've — got — it — now I" lie choked, pointing his finger at his companion, coughing and laughing loud enough to be heard a mile away, the half-eaten apple in one hand and the knife in the other, tears in his eyes, and his face red with exertion. Wellman's mirth was contagious. The day seemed al^out to open with undisturbed gayety and the most cordial relations between the young foreman and his hands — hands who, it must be remembered, were very jealous in that day of oversight and direction — had not another party made his appearance on the scene. 'Siah Perkins had come around the corner of the house during the general mirth, and at its con- clusion, asked: "Well, what's the fun^ I heard the great harvestin' was to begin to-day, an' thought I 'd just come over an' see if the neighborhood was all iioiii' to uet rich ulf a huiidied or two old 132 The Hip-roof House. ai)ple-trees. Ye do n't seem to have iiuule mucli lieadway, yit. Seems ez ef ye must have got cliokcd all 'round on the fust a})ple ye picked — an' that a win'fall, I should jedge," looking at the half-eaten one in AVellman's hand. That Avorthy had recovered his breath, and was nettled by Perkins's remark. ''Well, we hain't done much, yet," he said; ''but we 're gettin' ready for work in a way you don't often try." "Yes — how 's that?" asked Perkins, with his nasal drawl. "Havin' a good hiugli at a square joke," re- sponded Wellman. "Yes — one of Hi Barnes's jokes, I s'pose?" "Xot much," said Barnes, who had taken a basket, and was picking from the lower limbs i of the Seek-no-Further tree. "Not much, Sc^uire, Hi Barnes was at the wrong end of this joke, and got hit between the eyes. That 's what came so near choking AVellman to death." 'Cindy had gone into the house on the ap- Driving a Bargain. 133 jiearance of Perkins, and Joe having placed a ladder in the fork of the tree, climbed into it to begin picking. "]\Iust have been a good j«>ke if AVellman got it off," said Perkins, with the sneer that char- acterized all he said. "But as it happens, it was n't AVellman's," replied that individual, still more tartly. ''Xot yours? Whose could it 'a' been? The gal 's rutlier young fer sech things." Joe dropped his basket half way up the lad- der, and came down after it. His face was white, but he said nothing. Barnes, who was quick-witted enough to divine Perkins's intention to annoy, answered: "Xo, it was Joe's. He 's come home from the lake mighty smart, an' took me up so quick it 'mosf made my head swim.'' "You do n't tell,'' drawled Perkins. "I heard he 's come out mightily, considerin' he was raised by Killis AVaugh, an' was a foundlin' to beffin with. I see he can climb a ladder as 134 Thk Hip-roof House. well as any sailor, cf it 's .sijlicl an' lie has two fhances at it."' Joe disappeared in the tree just as Perkins said this, and the allusion to his sailor-like dex- terity raised a ripple of laughter. "But what was the joke?" Perkins continued. "I 'ni dying to know." Barnes, still hoping to mollify the newcomer, told the story with various embellishments. "So, that was it?" said Perkins. "Would n't have been so bad if it had been the truth. You an' AVellman may do well enough to put along- side with the mules, but old man Killis Waugh ain't the owner, not by a jng-full." Joe's hands trembled as he pui tl>e yellowish- green, red-streaked apples into his basket. "He not only ain't the owner, bnt he hain't not anv more title here 'n one of von. He may have what the lawyers call an equity, but even that ain't no ways sartin." " 'T ain't your fault he 's got that," said the bov in the tree. Driving a Bargain. 135 The men laiiglieJ. "Highty-tiglity," sneered Perkins. "How grand folks is gittin'. ^ext we know, neigh- bors, ^ve '11 have to take off our hats to the paupers in the poor-honse." The laugh died down, and the men pulled with needless bluster at the overhanging branches. *'0f course, it 's all my fault, though I did n't do nothing only what the law allowed. I wanted my money — needed it — an' who 's goin' to blame me for gettin' it^ AVas it any of my fault that Killis AVaugh had n't sense enough to take care of what he had, and so got in debt, and after that took to keepin' paupers free of charge to the county^ He never was of any account, an' has lived so long on the charity of them he owes, that I s'pose he 's just sense enough left to think he owns the whole earth. That 's the way with that sort generally." The boy came down from the tree without the aid of a ladder, and walked straiuht towards lo6 The Hip-roof House. the speaker. His eyes flashed, his clieeks were ])ale, and his fists clenched. "'Mr. Perkins, you can't speak that way about Daddy AVaugh 'round liere," he said, firmly. "Can't, eh?" queried the inan, who, though evidently surprised, had no thought of modify- ing his language. ^'I 'd like to know who 's to hender me if I choose to do as I 'm a mind to?" "I will," said Joe, coming closer. ^'Better keep off, bub," said Perkins, flour- ishing a switch he held. '"T ctit this un the way, -not thinkin' I 'd have any use for it, but it "11 do to lick one of Killis "Waugh's beggar brats as well as anything." "Mr. Perkins," said Joe, deliberately, though his voice trembled with rage, '"I do n't mind what you say about me, but you shan't abuse Daddy AVaugli where I am. You 've got to be respectful, or keep off the premises." "Xot till somebody comes that 's able to put me off," said Perkins, switching the sapling in the boy's face. "AVal, tliat 's right now," put in AVellman, Driving a Bargain. 137 tlirowing down his basket and coming forward, his hands twitcdiing nervously. "AVhat business is it of yours, Lank Well- man^" asked Perkins, insolently. ''Do n't try none o' yer brass on me, 'Siah Perkins. I 'm not goin' to stan' b}^ an' hear you abuse the boy, nor Ivillis AVaugli either. The boy 's doin' his duty, which is more 'n any- body ever accused you o' tryin' to do. I do n't want no trouble, but I ain't afraid o' ye. You jest git out o' here now, or I shall help you in a way you won't like." "You 'd better tend to yer apple-pickin'. That 's what ye 're hired to do." "Do n't tempt me to put my hand on ye, 'Siah Perkins," said the sturdy farmer, advanc- ing threateningly. "I 'm a peaceable man, but I might be inclined to settle some old scores if I should." "Better travel, Perkins," shouted Barnes. " 'T ain't safe to fool with Wellman when he gets his dander up." "I came here on business, and I've a right 13H Thk Hip-roof House. to stay till I git through with it," answered Per- kins sulkily, retreating a step or two. "State your business then, or leave," said AVelhnan, following him up. "My business is with Killis AVaugh." "Think you can abuse him 'cause he 's old and a cripple, do ye? If ye 've got any busi- ness, say what 't is." "I shall go in the house and tell it to Mr. Waugh," said Perkins, with dignity. ""Kot m-m-ni-much, you won't," came a voice from the back door, Avhich suddenly framed the gaunt form and stubby face of Jesse Xewlin. "What have you got to do with it?" asked Perkins, turning on the newcomer. "Xothin' m-m-much," said Xewlin, stepping down the path, exj)ectorating vigorously as he came, "only that b-b-boy 's a mate o' mine, ye know, an' there do n't nobody that sails on the Queen allow any outsider to pick on one o' her men — m-more especially on that b-b-b-boy. T) 've understand?" Driving a Bargain. 189 It would have been difficult to mistake the mate's words, accompanied though they were with a liberal garniture of oaths. ''Better go 'fore ther 's any more fuss," ad- vised AVellman, transformed at once into a peacemaker by the advent of Xewlin. "These sailors are mighty rough sometimes." "But I came -to buy apples," protested Per- kins, meekly. ''Took a queer way to trade," grinned Barnes. "Better go — better go," repeated Wellman, shaking his head warningly, as he picked up his basket and returned to his work. '"But I 've got to have 'em," again protested Perkins. "You have, eh? Then you M better go where ye can git 'em," said the mate. "Did n't ye hear Joe say ye could n't git 'em here?" "What 's he got to do with it? They ain't his." "Wal, he represents the (^ip'n, an' there ain't 140 Thk Hip-roof House. no man goin' to question anything Joe's Cap'n says while I 'ni around." "What 's the reason I can't have 'em? Ain't they for sale?" asked Perkins, whiningly. "Xot to yon," said Joe. "But I '11 pay a good price," continued Perkins, anxiously. ''Come now, I '11 take back all I said, an' pay thirty cents a bushel for a hundred bushels." "You can't have a bushel for less than one dollar," answered Joe, stoutly. "But I ve got to have 'em! Lord bless ye, 1 've contracted 'em." ''Wal, then, pay for 'em," said Newlin. ''Ye 've heard the price." ^'O, I can't pay any such price as that." "Then quit talkin'. Joe 's name'd his hggers, an' I '11 bet he knows what he 's about." ''But a dollar 's jest what I was to git for 'em, barreled and delivered at the harboi', do n't ye see?" said Perkins, piteously. ''What on airth was ye sellin' what ye had n't got, for?" asked Xewlin. "Ye knew there Driving a Bargain. 141 Avas n't any ai)ples in a clay's drive in any di- rection, only these." "That 's jest it/' was the reply. "You see, it was I had the mortgage, and I made no sort of doubt but what I 'd have the place, too, before this time. So when a city man offered me one dollar a bushel for two hundred bushels to be delivered at the harbor this week, I took him up, an' signed writings to that effect. Of course, as I did n't git the place it upset all my calculations, an' if I do n't deliver the apples, the man that bought 'em '11 be onto me for damages." "An' good enough for ye," said the mate. "Xear 's I can see ye, ye 've acted like a mean, dirty sneak, an' deserve to smart for it — d 'ye hear? Smart for it — smart for it, I say." "That 's so," said AVellmaii to Barnes, with a shrug. "That 's what a man gits fer actin' like a fool an' then tellin' on 't," put in Barnes, dryly. At this AVellman was roused to approving laughter. 142 The Hip-rook House. "The hoy 's got him/' he said, "and you see lie ain't goiii' to let up on him. I would n't neither." ''Psliaw, yes, you would. You would let a rat out of a trap if he squealed." ''May be that 's so," admitted Wellman. ''I ean't stand such things, — never could. Believe I '11 tell Joe not to be too hard on the fellow." "You let the boj^ alone. He knows his busi- ness and liis man, too." But the kind-hearted neighbor could not re- strain his desire to intercede, even for the man with whom he had "some old scores" to settle. "I say, Joe," he said, coming close to the boy, "could n't ye let up on him a little?" The boy looked up sidewise, and said through his teeth: "Xot a single cent!" "Ye hear that," said iSTewlin to Perkins. "Now ef ye want to buy apples, here 's yer chance. Apples is plenty, an' the market 's good. What 'd ye say?" "I '11 .tell ye, Joe, do n't let 's have hard Driving a Bargain. 148 feelin's itow; 't ain't neighborly. I'll let ye Lave tlie contract out an' out, an' not charge a cent fer it." ^^Do n't want it. Got just as good offers in my pocket, and can do better yet. You see the Queen carries our apples for nothing," said the boy, proudly. ''That 's jest what she does, gentlemen," ex- claimed Xewlin. ''Heard the Cap'n say so, myself. By George, I never thought of it, but it 's jest bringin' the city here for the boy, ain't it^ That ends it. AVhat d'ye say? I can't wait, but I 've got ter see this matter settled 'fore I go, ef Mis' Xevv'lin takes the last hair off when I git back." "I s'pose I '11 have to take 'em," sighed Per- kins, ''unless I can see Killis Waugh. He would n't ever treat a neighbor so." "Why, you just said he had nothing to do with the apples," laughed Barnes. ''Well, I s'pose he hain't, but he might in- duce Joe to be a little reasonable. I do n't know 's the boy 's got any better right 'n the 144 Thk Hip-roof House. old mail, but lie seems to have everybody on his side," snarled Perkins. So it was arranged that Perkins should take two hundred bushels at a dollar a bushel in the orchard, and should pay cash when picked and delivered. It was the first time in the history of that region that such a price had been paid for apples, and the story of Si Perkins's trade with a boy is a matter of tradition yet. JSTewlin had driven over to tell Joe he had written the Captain that he could not return at the end of the week, but would have to re- main at least one more. "You see,'' he said, with a grim attempt at a smile, "T found I 'd got to git Mis' Xewlin settled for the winter, jest a leetle better 'n she 'd been ef I come home, or else I need n't ever look for quarters there agin. Xow, that can't be done in a week. So 1 wrote to the C'ap'n, an' told him from what I heered I jedged you 'd have your hands full for about the same time; an' he need n't be lookin' for either of us till the next trip. But ef you keep on makin' sech trades as this here, you '11 Driving a Bargain. 145 be Ijiiyiir up the (^ueen, out 'n out, or settiu' up an opposition, 'fore long." "That 's what I mean to do," laughed Joe, "but not till Cap'n Moxom gits through with her." Xewlin drove home, and Joe returned to the orchard to find himself already regarded as one born to success. There was no questioning his authority, nor inclination to disregard his di- rections after that day. Before the first week was ended, it became a common saying in the neighborhood that "that boy Joe was a driver," ami "no fool either." Some even went so far as to say that he was "doin' better for old man Killis than that worthy had ever done for him- self." 'Cindy grew very proud of her play- mate, and when they figured it all up just be- fore his departure — for he determined to report on board the Queen at the specified time whether Xewlin did or not — they found that they would be able to pay two hundred ami fifty dollars on the hated mortgage, and both the u'irl and Daddy AVaugh looketl ui>on Joe lu 146 The Hip-roof House. as a sort of (loinostic li(»ro. But lie would not listen to tlicir praise. ^'Wait a wliile," lie said; "wait until it 's all paid off. I '11 take what we can spare to Lawyer ^[arvin to-morrow, and find just what the bal- ance is. I 've an idea we '11 lift the whole be- fore you know it. Remember there 's a good lot of apples yet, after all that '11 be needed to fill your contracts, gran'pa, and I mean to make them count. We 'd better save money enough to barrel 'em up and store 'em on the barn floor, so 't I can send for them any day. AVellman will tend to that, and haul them when we want them." That night Daddy Waugh dreamed the mort- gage was paid off, and the Hip-roof House trans- formed into a sumptuous palace, and Joe and 'Cindy the king and queen of the new realm. It had been many a year since he had known such happiness asleep or awake. Chapter XI. THE CAPTAIN'S ORDERS. ' IT was nearly sundown on the ]\Ion(lay ns- signed for Joe's departure, wlien lie set out to drive to the harbor, where he was to meet the Queen on -her downward trip some time the next morning. The time was not very ex- act. ''Between three o'clock and sunrise," was as definite a statement as Xewlin would venture to make in regard to the Queen's arrival. One thing was sure ; she would not wait. Other boats had been known to wait for passengers; but the Queen, if she had but one aboard, got him to his destination as soon as possible. The captain's idea of duty to the traveling public was a curious one for those times. He held that he owed more to the passenger aboard than to the one Avho was coming, and was just as nnich Ijound to make his best time for one as for a thousand. So Joe started the night Ix-foro. 147 14» The Hip-kook House. There had been so much to rs, sir/' re^ilicd Joe, toucliing iiis forelock, and lian-ling a letter to the lawyer, "What the mischief does this mean?" asked the attorney, after he had glanced over the mis- sive, ''do you know the contents of this letter?" "Xo, sir," "Well, Avell, wonders will never cease. AVhat do you suppose Captain Moxom has writ- ten to me here?" "Do n't know, sir. He told me to deliver that to you witliout delay, and do just as you should direct." "Was that alH" "Every word, sir." "When was that?" "About an hour before the stage started from Buffalo night before last." ''And you 've been on the road ever since?" "Of course." "Well, you must be tired." Thk Captain's Orders. 153 "A little." "Had aiiv dinner?" "Xo; I thouglit I M get that after I 'd done my errand." "You did? AVell, you were right, but it is n't every boy who would liave thought so. Sit down, and we '11 see what can be done for you. Jane," he called, opening the side door of his office, which adjoined the house in which he lived. His wife came in response to the summons, and was asked with serio-comic gravity, if she had anything in the house that would occupy the attention of a boy, Avho had had no dinner and ridden all night, for a few minutes, while her husband did some writing. The reply Avas speedy and abundant, and while his host wrote, Joe ate. "What have you been doing to Captain !Moxom, anyhow?" asked the lawyer, curiously, as he paused to fold a paper, sanding it care- fully and bendino- it over with his thumb. 154 The Hip-roof House. "Done to him? Nothing. Why?" "Have n't bewitched him, or anything of the sort?" "Captain Moxom is n't one of that kind." "Ha, lia! Guess yon are right there. Bnt what have you done to please liini so well?" "I obey orders, sir." "You do, eh? Where are you going when your errand here is completed?" "Wherever you say; that 's what he told me to do." "Suppose I send you to — Texas?" — a region much talked of at that time as the resort of those Avhom society had no special desire to retain any nearer the centers of civilization. "Suppose I 'd have to go." "If I should n't give you anything to do, what then?" "Go back to the Queen." "Yon are al)out right. You obey orders evidently, and I expect that 's what 's the mat- ter with 'Old Ironsides,' as we used to call him. The Captain's Orders. 155 Never knew him to take a fancy to any one before, and I 've known him since we were boys at school together. Xo, I 'm wrong. He did have a sweetheart once that he ^^cemed to tliink the world of; but she jilted liim because she could n't find any place to get hold on, I guess. At least, nothing ever came of it, and I 've always thought that was the reason he remained a bachelor. This is extraordinary, though, — extraordinary." The lawyer meditated a moment, then went on with his writing. Joe watched him, resum- ing his repast, which had been interrupted by the attorney's questions. The boy had been wondering, during all the long journey in the stage, what the purport of his errand might be, and the surprise manifested by the lawyer gave still keener edge to his curiosity. After a time the lawyer stopped writing, read over what he had written, glanced througli the letter he had received, wrinkled his fore- head, drew down his eyebrows, and looked 156 The Hip-roof House. under them at Joe in a way so puzzled and in- credulous that the boy could not hell? asking: ''What is it, sir?" ''You say you know nothing at all about the contents of this letter?" "Not a word, sir," "Have you ever done any thing especial for Captain Moxom — I mean, any special favor?" "Done the Captain any favor? Xo, indeed; all the favor has been on his side," answered Joe, flushing with enthusiasm for his hero's goodness. "Do you know, he offered me a steady job all winter at man's wages just to stay on the Queen and do nothing, only help watch her and go to school?" "Indeed!" said the lawyer, with an anuised smile, "that was liberal. He didn't offer you a fur coat and mittens, did he?" "Xo," replied Joe, half in doubt whether to laugh or take offense. "Xor a cutter and span of horses for your Saturdays?" "Xol" answered the boy, sharply, "he The Captain's Orders. 157 is n't — "' He stopped abruptly, and went to the window, where lie stood looking straight before him, with his back to the lawyer. !Mr. Marvin eyed him keenly. •'Well, he isn't— what?" "I^othing, sir." "Xothing. That is not what you meant to say." "iTo, sir." ''What were you going to say, then?" "Something I ought not to, sir." "Why?" ''The captain said he never wanted to hear of my speaking impudently to any one I was sent to on an errand." '"Yes? So you felt like being impudent to me, did you?" "Yes, sir." "Why?" "I did not think you ought to speak in the way you did of Captain Moxom, sir." "What were you going to say in his de- fense?" 158 The Hip-roof House. "It was ii't in his defense, sir. I like to have told you, he wasn't a fool; but you know that, and only said what you did to tease me." "You seem to think a good deal of the cap- tain." "It is n't any seem, sir," answered the lad, with a hint of tears in his voice. "You would do a great deal for him, I sup- pose?" "I would try to do anything he asked me to?" "Yes?" meditatively. "Eight or wrong?" "He would n't ask me to do anything wrong," answered the boy, stoutly. "No?" in the same cool, irritating tone, as if he were badgering a witness. "Well, why not, now? Tell me why not?" "Because, sir," said the boy, turning on him with flaming face, "because he could n't, — he just could 7i't, sir. Captain Moxom could n't be mean if he tried." "So?" said the lawyer. "Well, I have no dis- position to take issue with you. Sit down, boy, sit down. I did n't mean to say anvthing The Captain's Orders. 159 against tlie captain. I think nearly as niucli of him as you do, only I 'ni too old to be quite so positive about it. Xo doubt you are right— and I do n't wonder at his being fond of you. But, after all, — after all, — this is extraordinary." He rose and paced back and forth across his office, as if he had forgotten the boy's presence. Then he said sharply: ''See here, my son, tell me what happened after you went on board the Queen the other day." "AVhat happened?" asked the puzzled lad. ''Yes; between you and Captain Moxom." '•Xothing." "O, yes, there did, and I want to know what it was — just for my own satisfaction, you see. Xow think, — where did you see him first?" "Why, when the Queen was coming up to the wharf," answered Joe, in an animated tone. "There 's where one always sees the captain, — if they know where to look for him." ''Well," questioned the lawyer, not to be di- verted by any side issue, "where was he?'' 160 The Hip-koof HoUvSE. ''Standing by the guard, right in front of the wheel-house, as he always is when we eonie into port." ''Did he see you at the same time?" "Of course. He sees everything." ''O, he does?" ''I mean about the boat or dock." "Did he recognize you?" "To be sure he did." "How do you know?" "Because he waved his hand, — so — " making a slight gesture — "when I saluted him." "That salute is a new thing on board the Queen, isn't it? One of Moxom's notions?" "Xo, sir, it was just an accident-like. You see, that 's the way the boys do on the Michi- gan, the war-ship at Erie, when their officers come 'round. I saw them the first day I was on the Queen. One of 'cm came aboard at Erie, and I saw him do it when he spoke to Captain Moxom, and again when he reported to the offi- cer in his own boat. So when Captain !Moxom put me on duty, going errands for him every- The Captain's Orders. 161 where on board or ashore, and told nie he wanted I sliould always be attentive and polite, I supposed that was what he meant. I did n't know much about politeness, only Daddy AVaugh had taught me never to speak to a lady with my hat on. I s'pose it must be old-fash- ioned, 'cause nobody else about here seems to take the trouble to do so, and the boys used to laugh at me for it. But I always obeyed him, so it came easy to take off my cap and salute the captain or any one he sent me to. I found out afterwards that it was a new thing on the lake boats, but the captain seemed to like it and the men, too, so that after a while I got quite proud of it. Everybody on the Queen does it now, and people say they 're the most seamanlike crew on the lakes?" "What else, then?" "^STothing, sir; I just hurried aboard with my things, and reported for duty as soon as I could change my clothes. You see it was daylight then, and I thought that he 'd be looking tor me. 11 102 The Hip-roof House. "I suppose he was glad to see yoiii" said the lawyer, with a smile. ''I 'in sure 1 do ii't know, sir. lie did n't seem very glad." "What did he say?" "Just asked me how I came to be aboard at that time." "And you told him — what?" " 'Cause I agreed to. lie asked why I did n't wait for Mr. Newlin; and I told him 'cause I did n't have any leave to. Then he asked had n't Mr. ]S"ewlin told me I could stay, and I told him he had. Then he asked why I did n't stay; and I said I didn't know as Mr. jSTewliu had any authority to say I could." "Well, what next?" "He said I had done just right; and he was glad of it. He asked what I had on my old clothes for when I came aboard. You see, they were the ver}- ones I wore when he first saw me. So I told him I thought those he had given ine were to be worn when I was working for him, and I did n't want to get 'cm all torn The Captain's Orders. 163 and soiled by wearing tliem 'bout liouie, gather- ing apples and doing sueli work." ''What did he say lo tliatf' "Said I was a good boy, sir, and asked me about Daddy AVaugh and 'Cindy and all our home matters, just as if he had an interest in 'em himself," "You don't tell mel" excdaimed the lawyer, with a chuckle. "That was a strange proceed- ing for Dave ^loxom, wasn't it?" "He 's always been very kind to me, sir," replied the boy, anxious to defend his friend from ridicule. "He used to ask me about mat- ters at the Hip-roof House when I first went aboard. You see, he lived there a while him- self when he was a boy." "So I 've heard." "He knew we 'd been in trouble, too, and I suppose he was interested to learn how we were getting along." "You told him?" "Yes, sir. I told him the orchard had done so well I thought we 'd be pretty near able to 164 The Hit-roof House. pay off the mortgage, perhaps quite, with what I hoped to earn during the winter." "I guess that surprised him?" ''It did seem to, sir." ''jSTo wonder. Everybody says it 's nothing less than a iiiirat'le for an old orchard like that to start np all at once and yield such a crop of frnit, — and of such quality, too." "That's what the captain said; but I told him if it was a miracle, it was one of the com- mon, every-day sort, or else it would n't have happened to Daddy AVaugh, or come about through anything he did, being so old and weak." "Daddy AVaugh? What did he have to do with the size of the apple-crop?" "Everything except make the trees grow," said Joe, earnestly, "and he came pretty near doing that, for he planted 'em." "But that did n't make them bear this par- ticular year." "Xo; Daddy AVaugh says that's the Lord's doings, and I suppose it is; but, all the same, it The Captain's Orders. 165 was because of Daddy A\'aiii>li that lie came to do it." "What did the captain say to that?" ''Said I 'd have to exphiin that riddle. He knew Daddy Wangli was a good man, but he did n't believe any one was good enough these days to have miracles worked for their special benefit." ''Did you explain it?" "Certainly. You see it was n't any miracle at all, but just in the course of nature, only it happened to come at the right time. Some four or five years ago, just the fall before we sold the oxen, a man came along, 'way after dark, and wanted to stay all night. You know Daddy AVaugli would n't refuse anybody a meal or a night's lodging if he had n'f more 'n a crust for himself." "I do n't believe he would," said the lawyer, lieartily. ''Well, tlic man staid that night, and the next day ho was taken sick, and it was about a month lioforc he got around again. AVe took I(i6 Thk Hip-roof House. care (.if him the host avc could. Folks told Daddy Waugh he ought to turn hiui over to the county — it Avas just after Daddy's stroke, you know, and everybody used to come in and see him; it had n't got to be an old story then, — but he would n't hear to it. Said there had n't anybody ever gone out of the Ilip-roof House to the poorhouse yet, and if there ever did, the first ■ one to go would be Killis Waugh. He had n't got uiuch, he said, but he 'd got enough to feed a sick nuin so long as his appetite was so poor he couldn't eat much anyhow; and he was going to do it." ''Just like him," laughed the lawyer. "And that 's wduit has kept him poor." "It 's what 's helped him when he needed it most, too," said Joe. "That 's what I told the captain. I told him that Daddy AVaugh had proved it paid to be good to other folks as well as to one's self, too." "How did he take that little lesson in morals?" "Laughed, and said it might be so; but he The Captain's Orders. 167 didn't see as the old man had enongh to show for his goodness to make the wicdved very en- vions." The hiwyer broke into a hearty laugh at this; said he should think not, and asked Joe to go on with his story. ''Well, I told him it had brought him the apples and the orchard and the Hip-roof House and 'Cindy and me, anyhow." "1 understand that last — and a boy and a girl like you and 'Cindy are no meau fortune — - but I still fail to see how his kindness resulted directly in this miraculous apple-crop." ''O yes," said the boy, apologetically, "tell- ing you all about the captain, I forgot about that. Well, you see the man — he was an Eng- lishman — when he got well was naturally very grateful to Daddv AVaugh. lie was a real nice man — not what you would call young — but so young-looking, you 'd never think he had a boy of my age, as he said he had, back in England. It was apple-time when he got about, and he used to sit and help a little when he could, in 168 The Hip-roof House. gathering them. He told us all about his folks, aiul how he came over here to Letter his con- dition, but everything had gone against him. You see he did not find things as he expected to, and did n't seem to be able to fit himself to them as they Avere. That 's what Daddy ^augli said was the matter with him." *' There are a good many people who have just that difficulty all their lives," said the law- yer, dryly. 'T suppose so," assented the boy, composedly; ''but this man was a sort of nurseryman or gar- dener for some nobleman in the 'old country,' as he called it, and, having had some quarrel with his master, thought he 'd come to America and be his own man. He had tried hard enough and in ways enough, I'm sure; but with what he had to send home for his family, he had nothing left for himself, and no prospect of getting anything. So he had started AVest, and thought he would take up some land, and see if he could n't have better luck. "He knew all about fruits and fruit-trses. Thk Captain's Orders. 169 seeing that was his business, and he used to sit and talk with Daddy AVaugh about planting and grafting and pruning, until I thought they would n't ever think of anything else. Daddy AVaugh explained to him all the different kinds of apples in the orchard. A good many of them, the man said, were seedlings that had never been heard of across the water, and others, he thought, were entirely new, even in this country. He said if he had scions enough, he was sure he could make a good living grafting other orchards, the fruit of which was n't so good as this. He said that 's the way they were doing all through the East, but it had n't got out this way yet. "Then Daddy AVaugh told him that all the orchards in the State, so far as he knew, were grown from seeds, and people had n't taken the pains to select those that bore good fruit, as he had done. That 's why the Hip-roof orchard was so notable. So, if he could make people believe his grafts would bear the same kind of fruit as Killis AVaugh's trees, there 170 Tjii': IIip-Kooi" HousK. would n't be aiiv doubt 'bout Ids g'ctting a tdiance to graft pretty luueli every orcdiard in this region, 'eause his trees were known all along the lake-shore from Black Rocdv to Toledo. "The Englishman told Daddy that if the old trees were Svorkcd/ as he called trinnning, and scraped, and the ground plowed and dug around the roots some, and a few of the poorest kinds grafted from the best, it would be just as good as new, and better too, for a little while. Daddy said he 'd heard about grafting, but never heard of making old trees over into new ones; but it looked reasonable, and if he had been as able as he was once, he 'd try it. Fruit was getting to be worth something, and the orchard, always a great bearer, was rarely ever hurt by the frost. The man explained that working- it would probably change the bearing year — which would have been last year, you know — and the first year or two of growth would prob- ably go to wood, so 't there would n't be many apples; but when it did bear, it would snrpi-ise the comitrv. The Captain's Orders. 171 '*AikI sure ciiougli 'twas all so; for the up- hliot of it was, the man SvorkeJ' the orchard just to his own notion. Everybody said he 'd kill it, and it did look so. You ought to have seen the brush I dragged out and piled up that fall and winter. It made a heap as big as the ]jam — every bit. We couldn't burn it until it was dry, and it covered the whole hillside below^ the spring all the next summer. The neighbors said Daddy AVaugh wasn't content to plant an orchard, but had to go and bury it, too. It did look like a funeral that year. "Then we plowed it, and scraped the trees, and washed 'em all over with soap, and put a lot of ashes around the roots. In fact, we worked at 'em all the fall, and again in the spring. Then Daddy gave the Englishman plenty of scions, and he got work out West, bought a place there, and came back the next year for cuttings that had grown the year be- fore. So the old orcdiard got worked twice, and this year was its first crop. Xow, you see, if Daddy AVaugh had n't been good to that man. 172 Thk Hip-roof Housk. the oivliard would iTt have been workcc], and the trees would n't have borne the apples, and we could n't ha\'e paid the money on the mort- gage." "Yes, I do sec," said the lawyer; "and if he had n't taken care of Joe and 'Cindy when they were little, they could n't have helped him now." "Of course," assented Joe. Chapter XII, APPLES AND KISSES. ..WELL," ™ msod the lawyer, as apparently unconscious as if lie were drawing out a witness to tell liis story in his own way, for the entertainment of judge and jury, ^'I sup- pose after you had told him that, the captain was anxious to see the apples you had brought him?" "That 's just what he was, sir," said Joe, gleefully; "and it almost made me cry to see how nuich he did enjoy them. I ain't sure hut I did cry a little," he added, wiping swiftly away a briny reminiscence of the occasion, "You see, he sent for them to be brouglit up to his cabin- — there were ten bags of 'em, and about two bushels or two and a half, in each bag. The bags were n't very new, but they were clean, and 'Cindy and Daddy Waugli had fixed them up good and strong. It would have made you laugh to see the passengers 173 174 Thk Hii'-Rooi' HousK. ^tare when four of the Lands, every one ^vitll an old, patched tow-bag on his shoulder, marched up the brass steps of the gang- way, through the saloon, and into the captain's (•al)in. Of course, I had to go down to show 'em what to bring, and Tom was so full of curi- osity that he followed me up, asking questions, and closed the procession with his white apron. Then the hands went back and l)rought up the rest. I did n't think a word about it until I heard some of the passengers wondering what it meant, and I thought I should have to laugh or die. I held in, though, until the hands got the apples in the cabin and went out, and then 1 laughed; and when I told the captain, he laughed, too. It was awful funny — that big pWe of bags in the middle of the captain's nice cabin! "We opened the bags, and I showed him the different kinds, and told him how Daddy AVaugli had picked 'em out of ever so many bushels, having them put on the table before him, and looking 'em over one by one, so 's to be sure Applks and Kissks. 17") aud get the very best; and how he Vl put a hjt of hay in the bottom of the wagon, so that they would n't get bruised or specked bringing 'em to the harbor, no matter how nieHow they might be. It did seem as if the captain enjoyed 'em enough to pay for all the trouble, and more too. Xot that it seemed any trouble, because he 's been so kind and good that there would n't any- thing seem trouble that we could do for him. After he had asked all sorts of questions about the different varieties, and examined and praised them until I felt reddiot all over, he sent for the steward, and told him to have them taken out and pile them all up on the tables before he set 'em for dinner. He said there was a big load of passengers on, and he w^as going to give them a chance to see something they would n't forget that year, anyhow. The steward and the boys took and wiped the apples all off bright and clean, and piled them in the middle of the tables in great big heaps, with little pyramids along the sides of the })lates. By the captain's place the pile was so high, that when anybody 176 The Hip-koof House. sat in liis chair those at the table could hardly see his head over the top. They were red and yellow and green and white; russets and greasy- skins and red-cheeks and gold-flesh. There were twenty of the best sorts and the best of every • kind. I tell you they did look nice, just as if the Queen had sailed through an orchard, and all the apples had been shaken off on the tables!" "^o doubt — no doubt," said the lawyer, amused at the boy's enthusiasm. "I wish I had been there to see." ''That 's queer, now," said Joe; "but when he was looking at the taldes, just before the gong sounded for dinner, Captain Moxom said, 'By George, I wish ]\Iarvin was here!' " "You don't say? What the mischief did he want of me?" "Don'.t know, sir." "Nor I, either." The lawyer was evidently perplexed. "Guess he must have been thinking of this matter." He nodded at the papers on his table, as if they were somehow responsible Apples and Kisses. 1'7 for liis perplexity. "Well, you had a nice din- ner, did n't yoii^" * "Yes — tliat is — I suppose so," replied Joe, hesitantly. ''Suppose so? Don't you know?" "Yes— but— " "But what?" "Why, you see the captain told me to stay in his cabin during dinner, unless he sent for me, which, of course, I did, and presently I heard more noise down in the saloon — that 's where they eat, you know — than I ever heard before; but I couldn't make out what it was. First I knew here came Tom — that 's one of the colored waiters, a great friend of mine — rush- ing up the cabin stairs three or four steps at a time, hollerin' for me, his apron twisted clean around behind, and looking as if he was crazy. "'Joe, Joe!' he called. 'Come quick, — the captain wants youl' "With that he grabbed me up, and clapped me on his shoulder before I knew what he was doing, and rushed back down into the saloon, 12 178 The Hip-roof House. where the passengers were eating their dinner. When we got there I looked around, and every- body was standing np, and the captain — he sits at the liead of the middle table, you know — was standing up, too, all dressed in white duck, w'itli an anchor worked on the corner of his collar. He motioned Tom to put me down by liini. Then he took me by the hand, and told me to get up in a chair. " 'Do n't be afraid!' he whispered; and I told him I was n't. Then he turned towards the tables, and said: " 'Ladies and gentlemen, this is Joe!' "Then the gentlemen gave three cheers, and the ladies waved their handkei'chiefs, and the captain said, 'Make a bow, Joe!' and I bowed to each one of the tables, and he said, 'The ladies and gentlemen have bought your apples, Joe. Go and thank them.' "Then they passed mc around down one side of each table and up the other. The gentlemen shook hands with me, and talked mighty nice, asking all about Daddy AVaugh, and the ladies Apples and Kisses. 179 asked nie about 'Ciudy, and some of them wanted to kiss me I" ''Gad, I do n't hlame them," said the hiwyer, jumping up and blowing his nose with peculiar energy. "Xor I, either," exclaimed Mrs. Marvin, throwing open the door to the living-room, which she had left ajar, and, running across to Joe, made her words good by kissing him half a dozen times. "Well, mother," said lawyer Marvin, rub- bing his eyes and laughing, "as you have n't any boy of your own, I do n't know as I blame you. I believe I should have kissed Joe my- self, if you had n't happened around just in time. I see what 'Old Ironsides' wanted of a lawyer now. Thought he 'd get me to make his speech for him. The rascal! And if I'd been there, just as like as not I 'd Lave done it, and no doubt made a mess of the whole thing. So he sold the apples, did he ?" "Yes, sir," answered the l)oy, the tears stand- ing in his eyes, "he sold those very apples I 'd 180 The Hip-roof House. brought him, to the passengers at a cent apiece! Only think of it, Mr. ]\larviu — and gave all the money to me." "That was a wholesale piece of business, wasn't it?" "Yes, sir; and some of them wonld n't take any change; so I 've got fifty dollars more to pay on the mortgage." "Bnt had n't you better keep some of this for yourself, and let the rest of the mortgage stand a wliile?" asked the lawyer, with a queer twinkle in his eyes. "I do n't want anything, and have n't any use for money until after that mortgage is paid off, and Daddy Waugh a free man, ^Ir. Mar- vin," said Joe, decidedly. "I can't bear to think of him feeling all the time as if he Avas just eliained down by it, and if he should die before it was paid, I do n't think I should ever get over it. It does n't seem as if he 'd ever enjoy him- self in heaven if it was n't paid off before he died." "I 'm not sure he would," said ^larvin, Apples and Kisses. 181 eheerfiilly. "Mother," addressing liis wife, "supposing you get your things on, and we '11 drive as far as the Hip-roof, and see al)ont some of these matters. Perhaps Joe will let you liave a basket of apples to pay for those kisses you gave him." "O, they 're paid for already," said the comely matron, smiling. "AVell, then, perhaps you can get a peck or so for some that are not paid for." The lawyer put his arm around his wife's ample waist, and drew her fondly towards him. "How would that suit you, Joe?" • "Just as you say, sir," was the saucy reply. "I 'm under your orders, you know." Chapter XIIL AN INDENTURE. THE surprise of tlie denizens of the Hip-roof House at Joe's return was only equaled by their curiosity. The presence of the lawyer and his wife restrained their comments; but, despite this, Joe was subjected to a tire of questions, to which he could return no satisfactory an- swers. He said he had gone on board the (^ueen, made the passage to Buffalo, and started back the next night, with what might be termed sealed orders to Mr. ]Marvin. ''You say you do n't know what the captain sent you back for?" queried Killis AVaugh, peer- ing through his glasses in evident perplexity. "Do n't know nothing about it," answered Joe. "Just obeyed orders." "Ye didn't have no troul)lc with hiiu, I ]h)\)cC' anxiously. "JS^ot a word." 182 An Indenture. 183 '"I 'ill glad o' that. IIow long Le you goin' to stay?" *'Have to ask Mr. ^Marvin. I 'm luider liim now." "V^^e]\, Avell, well," said the old man. ^^'That Davv Moxom does beat all. lie always was an odd chicken, but this 's a little the queerest thing he 's ever done. After all, there ain't many better men in the world than he. You won't ever get very far wrong, my son, as long- as you do what he tells you." "You may well say that, Mr. AVaugh," as- sented Mr. Marvin. "Joe brought me a letter from Captain Moxom, in which he has charged me with a pleasant duty. It may require the presence of witnesses, and I would be obliged if you would have the men who are at work in the orchard called for that purpose." Her heart dimly presaging evil from these words, 'Cindy went to summon AVollman and the other neighbor. When the little family were mustered and seated with curious expec- ia4 The Hip-roof House. tancy, Mr. IMarvin, taking a bundle of papers from his pocket, said: "I am authorized by Captain David Moxom to offer the sum of ten doHars a month and board for the services of Josei)h Thoiiqjson during the next five years, the said Joseph Thompson to be at all times subject to the orders of Captain Moxom, provided such arrangement be agreeable to INIr. Waugh. What do you say to that offer, Joe?" "I want to stay with the captain till I have a boat of my own," said Joe, stoutly. 'T 'm bound he '11 have it, too," chuckled Wellman, approvingly. "And what do you say, Mr. Waugh?" "Is it year in and year out?" asked the old man, with plaintive earnestness. "Twelve months in a year," answered the lawyer. "Captain Moxom requires the boy to be regularly indentured to him until he is twenty-one. That will be five years, I think?" "Yes, sir," answered Joe, "five years and 'most a half." An Indenture. 185 ''O, I can't have Joey gone all the time," said Daddy Waiigh, petidantly. "He 's been away all siunnier — for the week he 's been home do n't seem a day scarcely — an' now to have him go off for five years, — it do n't seem as if I could stand it, nohow. It do n't, ^Ir. ^Marvin. 'T ain't likely I '11 be here as long as that." "It is hard, Daddy Wangh," condoled Well- man; "but you must think of the boy. It '11 be the making of him, most likely." "Yes, I 'm thinkin' of him, an' I know it 's a great chance — a great chance. It 's a man's wages almost to start with, and nobody knows how much favor afterwards. I realize that, an' he ain't nothin' but a boy! That's what you mean, neighbor, and that 's what everybody 'Jl say if he do n't go. But that 's just where the rub comes — because he is a boy yet. Davy Moxom's a good man, and would n't mean him to git no harm; but it 's takin' him away from home, away from me, and it 's all I 've got left, him and 'Cindy. I can't bear to think o' sep- eratin' 'em; they've always been just like 186 The Hip-roof House. brother an' sister. Do you think you could stand it, 'Cindy? There, there, don't cry, child, dou't!" The girl wiped her eyes with her apron, but her voice was choked with sobs as she answered bravely: "1 — I — s'pose we must — must think of Joe, grandpa." ''Of course," assented the old man in a pet- ulent voice; "but who knows it's best for him to go 'way from home five years on a stretch at his time of life?" "I do n't s'pose the cap'n would want him the whole time right along on a stretch," suggested Wellman. "P'raps not — p'raps not," said Daddy Waugh, eagerly. "Do you s'pose he 'd let him come home now and then for a spell, Mr. Mar\dn?" "I 'm not authorized to make any such con- ditions; but I think you can safely rely upon Captain Moxom's good sense and good inten- tions," answered the lawyer. An Indenture. 187 The old man sighed. "More 'n likely he did n't think on 't. Folks do n't know how lonesome old people git towards the last. There 's so little left 'em, you know, they hang on to it desperately. I s'pose I '11 have to consent for the boy's sake. I do n't know as I 'm doin' right, though. He ought to be at school now. These five years that 's comin' should be the cream of his life. It isn't as if his father was alive. Perhaps I ought not to let him go, after all?" "O, do, Daddy Waugh, do!" entreated the boy. "You know I could n't go to school if I staid to home; and so long as I 've got to work, I 'd rather be with the captain than anywhere else." "There 's some sense in that, too. Perhaps I am selfish, though I do n't mean to be. Yes, I consent — though I don't think I ought to, nohow. If it was my own kin, I 'd feel different about it — not so distrustful like, you know." "Well," said the lawyer, "since that is set- tled, we may as well have these articles signed, 188 Thjv Hip-koof House. binding Joe to the captain until lie comes of age." It was clone, Daddy "Wangli signing as guar- dian. To 'Cindy the loss of so many years at school seemed irreparal)le, and she wept silently while the paj^ers were being signed. The men congratulated the boy, and Mrs. Marvin tried to console the girl, who sorrowed at her playmate's good fortune because she knew that without education he would not make the man she had hoped he would become. ''And now," continued Marvin, "I have also to inform you that Captain Moxom writes me to say that he has sold two hundred bushels of apples from the Hip-roof orchard, at a dollar a bushel, to be delivered on board the Queen within ten days." "Why, that'll pay the mortgage clean off!" exclaimed TCillis Waugh, witli eagerness. "So it will, if you 've got the apples." "There 's no doubt on that score," said Well- man. "There '11 be as many as that and more, of the very first quality." An Indenture. 189 ^'Tlicn I 'II pay the money, \vliieli lie sent for the purpose, trusting there will be no delay in the delivery of the apples." "O, there won't be any delay," said Joe, eagerly. "I '11 attend to 'em, myself." ''You forget you are articled to Captain Moxom, and must obey his orders hereafter," said the lawyer, counting out the money. The old man watched him with anxious eyes, his fingers working nervously. "xVlia!" laughed Barnes, "ain't so much fun bein' a sailor, is it? I b'lieve I 've got a chance to pay you back for that mule joke. Been havin' a grudge against you ever since." "I did forget," admitted Joe, cheerfully. "But it do n't make any difference. If I can't do it, Mr. Barnes and ]\Ir. A\'ellman '11 see it 's done just as well, and probably better, too, than I could." "That 's so," said Barnes, getting up and taking the boy's hand in a hearty grip. "You 've got a good chance, Joe, and every- body '11 expect VdU to make good use of it. I 190 Thk Hip-roof House. do n't know of anybody in the neigliborhood that would n't do any sort of little turn that comes in their way to help ye. You jest go 'long, and Lank an' I '11 'tend to the apples all right. Ain't that so, Lank?" Wellman nodded, repeating an assurance which the glimmer in the boy's eyes warned him might not be unnecessary. "O, Joe 's all right. He ain't goin' to worry.- We could send the whole lot in two days if we had the barrels." "There's no trouble about barrels; they are plentier than apples this year," said the lawyer. "And here 's the money, Mr. Waugh." Killis AVaugh for a time made a pretense of counting the bills. Llis lips quivered, and the tears ran down his withered cheeks. "Mr. Marvin," he said at length, in a voice husky with emotion, "do you happen to have that mortgage along with you?" "Certainly; I thought you might want to see it." "Yes; I would like to look at it. It 's hung An Indenture. lOl over the Hip-roof House so long, that it 's e'en a'most broke the ridge-pole." The old man's voice was tremulous and hurried. "And now T 'd like to see it paid off^caneeled and de- stroyed. I 'd like to see it done, an' sleep one more night without dreamin' of it. How much is there due yet ?" "Here it is," said !Marvui. "You can see for yourself. It won't take you long to make out, if you are as quick at figures as you used to be." "That time 's past," answered the old man, in a saddened tone, as he laid the bills on the table and unfolded the mortgage. "I declare, it 's been so long since I saw an instrument of this kind, I hardly know where to begin." He glanced at the top of the page, and went rapidly down, reading a few words here and there, and now and then making a remark in regard to what he read: " '^This indenture, made the tenth day of November,' that was the time— jest a year after Lowizv's death, to a dav. I thouiiht on 't at 192 Tnii Hip-roof House. the time, an', if I 'd had any seuse, would n't have signed such a paper at such a time. One gravestun with that date on it is enough. 'The Hip-roof House place' — that 's what the lawyer put in, Mr. Marvin. He said for premises so well-known as these, that was a better descrip- tion than metes and bounds could be. Suppose it is?" ''Well, it 's good enough ; it held." "To have and to hold," muttered the old man. "Yes, it held. It would have held whether it was right or not, for Killis Waugh signed it Svith full knowledge of the contents thereof, and for the purposes therein set forth,' and that was enough. But it won't hold any longer. How much is due? Where are the payments? O yes, here they are. Interest, sixty dollars; total, one thousand and sixty; credit, $100, $150, $75, $20, $10, $6. It came hard then, Mr. Marvin, but it keeps goin' on year after year; now the intrust ahead an' then the credits. Every time I got a dollar, you see, I put by a part for the mortgage, if it was n't An Indenture. 193 more 'n a dime. That 's the way I tried to pay it. But I would u't never have got rid of it, if it had n't ben for Joe — him an' 'Cindy — never. AVhat 's that? What does it mean? David Moxom? Taid off, and discharged' — you're not making sport of me, Mr. Marvin?" The old man looked beseechingly into the lawyer's face. "There 's no deception, Mr. "Waugh, though I confess I can not understand it. I received a letter from Captain ]\Ioxum, by Joe, directing me to release the mortgage, and inclosing a power of attorney for that purpose." "How did he come to have anything to do with the matter?" "^^'ho, Moxom? AVhy, he owned the mort- gage." "So it seems; but what I want to know is, how he came to own it?" "Ask me something easy," said the lawyer, jocosely, "and do n't expect me to account for David Moxom's freaks. All I know is that sometime ago I got a letter directing me to 194 The Hip-koof House. satisfy Perkins, and take an assignment in my own name. I did so, but the same day assigned to Moxom. I 've no fanc}' for this new notion of a lawyer holding titles for his client — always feel as if I was in a dead-fall when I do it." "But how about the pay, Mr. Marvin. I do n't understand. According to my calcula- tions, interest an' all, there was close on to two hundred dollars yet to pay." "Something better than a hundred," an- swered Marvin, carelessly. "But you see the receipt attached. There 's no mistaking that: *By cash received by Joseph Thompson, balance in full of mortgage on the premises of Killis AVaugh, known as the Hip-roof House, which is hereby declared to be thereby satisfied and released.' That was drawn by a lawyer, — no doubt about that, for it is signed, sealed, and witnessed, so as to make it a good, formal re- lease of a deed. Xo mistake about it, ]\Ir. Waugh." "But how could Joe pay him?" asked the puzzled old man. An Indenture. 1^5 "Perhaps lie can tell you; I can't." But if the others were surprised, Joe was astounded. ''How about the apples he sold on the boat?" suggested the lawyer. Joe blushed furiously. "He gave me all the money he got for them. I said I didn't want it— that Daddy Waugh had sent him the apples, and I was afraid he would n't like to have 'em sold for our benefit that way. Somehow it seemed too much like taking up a collection. Then he told me it was the passengers' own proposition; that they bought the apples instead of eating them for nothing, to show they liked the way we 'd done, and that I was to have the money and do as I pleased with it. I said, of course, I 'd pay it on the mortgage; but he kind of smiled, and asked me what I 'd do Avith it if I found that was taken care of already. Had n't I better lake it for books and schooling^ I told him I could manage about that without much trouble, being u boy, but 'Cindy wanted over so much 196 Thk Hip-roop House. to go to the academy. Then he lauglieil and said: " 'All right, bnt you are the stubbornost boy I ever saw. Give it to 'Cindy, and shift for yourself, if you want to. I 've no doubt she '11 make good use of it, and it won't hurt her.' So I brought it home, and there it is," he added, awkwardly thrusting a little package into the girl's hands. "And how does he come to send this money on the order for the apples still in the orchard T' asked the old man, peevishly. The day's mar- velous events were beginning to bewilder him. "O, I forgot," said the lawyer; ''his letter says that one of the passengers, who was a grocer, offered to take the apples at a dollar a bushel at the harbor, the apples to be according to the samples Joe had brought. He paid the money down for two hundred bushels, and will take all you have at the same price, and be very glad to get them." "The Lord be thanked," ejaculated Killis Waugh, raising his eyes devoutly. "It does The Indenture Signed. See page 196. An Indenture. 197 seem as if our troubles were indeed over. And it 's all owing to you, Joe — you and 'Cindy," correcting liimself, and taking a hand of each. ''You 'vc done it all, and kept me from giving up when I was cast down. The good Lord bless you both." "And Captain Moxom, too, daddy," said Joe. "And Captain Moxom, too," added the old man, with deep emotion. "It 's the Lord's doing, and seems like a miracle; but blessed are all them that do His will, and all them that, in our adversity, have shown us favor!" "Amen!" ejaculated Wellman, who, being a Methodist, could never restrain the inclina- tion to respond. A hush fell on the little company. It w^as broken by Joe's voice: "Daddy, I do n't think you ought to call it a miracle. Seems to me just as natural as sow- ing and reaping. You were kind to others when they wanted help, and they 've been kind to you when you needed it." rJ8 The Hip-roof House. "Joe is right," said the lawyer; "it is the rule, not the exception." "As ye sow, so shall }'e reap," quoted AVell- man, "with rugged emphasis. "In other words, you invested in good-will on a rising market, and got your money back with interest," said the more practical lawyer. "Big intrust, Mr. Marvin, big intrust. I 'm only sorry Lowizy ain't here to see, for it 's all due to her. I should n't ever have done any- thing decent if it had n't been for her. But I expect she knows — she knows — all about it." There was a solemn silence. Ilie hired men stole softly out to their work; the lawyer and his wife prepared to depart. The old man re- ceived their congratulations with peaceful hu- mility. When they were ready to go, Joe began to bid good-bye, also. "Why, where are you going?" asked 'Cindy, in surprise. "Going with Mr. ]\rarvin," answered Joe. "What 's that?" questioned the lawyer, in a tone of good-humored banter. "Going with An Indenture. 199 lis? Do you hear that, ]\Irs. Marvin? You don't object! AVell, I suppose not, but I do. After the demonstrations I have witnessed to- day, my dear, I beg to be excused from assum- ing the responsibiHty of this young man. Ex- cuse me, Joe, but as the captain has put you in Uiy charge, I liand you over to 'Cindy. Make him toe the mark, my dear, and if he shows any bigns of insubordination, just report him to me, and I will notify the captain, and have him or- dered to sea instanter; or, if you prefer, I will come over any time you may wish, and give the rascal a rope's end, to make him behave. Do you hear, young man?" "Yes, sir," said Joe, doubtfully, "but — but — how long?" "How long are you to obey her? Until fur- ther orders from the captain, sir." AVith a ringing laugh the lawyer turned to depart; then changed his mind, and, coming back, laid his hand on the boy's shoulder, and said : '*Do n't let this turn your head, Joe. There 200 The Hip-roof House. is n't but one Dave Moxoni in the world, and you may live to iind he 's rotten at the core. I don't know; we lawyers see surprising things, but not very many of this kind. As you are now indentured to Captain Moxom, he has, of course, to board and find you. I am directed to get you a decent suit of clothes — none of these sailor togs — and arrange for your board and schooling this winter. You will attend the academy this winter with 'Cindy, and she will keep close watch on you, so that I can report to Moxom how you are getting along. I suspect he wants to make a man of you, and knows he can't do it without her help. He has an idea you are not over-fond of study, and will need her to keep you up to your work. You are each to come and spend a Sunday with us every month — that is, you are ordered to, and 'Cindy is invited to — so that I can not only quiz her al)out yrm, bnt judge, myself, of the truth of her report." "O, Joe will do his very best, I am sure," Ax Indenture. 201 said 'Cindy, her face aflame with joy, as she put her arm about his neek. "Won't you, Joe?" "1 — I'll try," said Joe, somewhat doubt- fully. "I know it will be hard, Joe," said the law- yer, kindly; ^'harder than the hardest work, perhaps, to one of your nature; but everything v.'orth having costs effort, and the only way to keep friends is to make them glad to be your friends." ''I '11 try, sir," said the boy, humbly, biting his lip. "Daddy Waugh," continued the lawyer, "is going to take the money I shall pay for your board, and hire a girl to keep house, so that you and 'Cindy will have nothing to distract your minds from study. Perhaps he will think ho is able to get a colt that will be gaining in value as he grows older, and something to drive him to, so that you can take 'Cindy to school when the Aveather is bad. lie owns a good stall back of the church, which other people have been 202 The Hip-roof House. using for a dozen years. You could keep tlic horse there Avithout eosting a cent. Kow, if YOU do n't do as well as everybody expects — " "O, I will — I will!" cried the boy, burying ]iis head on 'Cindy's shoulder in a passion of tears. "jsIy. Marvin," said Daddy AVaugh, "please go away ! We can't stand so much of the Lord's goodness all at once. Do n't you seel'" The tears were flowing down the old man's face. "O, you '11 probably get trouble enough to make up for it," said the lawyer, who was prob- ably a lineal descendant of one of "Job's com- forters;" "but I 'm not going till you promise me one thing." "What 's that? I '11 do everything you say." "How long has it been since Deacon Waugh ■went to church?" "Five years," said the old man, solemnly; "it 's five years since I died, you know. A man in my condition can't go to church. It 's bad Ax Indenture. 203 enough to be so nigh helpless, without going out and making a show of one's self. Besides, Mr. Marvin, you know I have n't been able to dress fit to be seen in the church, nor had any way to get there." ''That 's not so any longer," said the lawyer, cheerfully. "Wellnian would be glad to take you—" ■'I 've offered to a hundred times, Scjuire," said that worthy from the door. "But you know how 't is; a man don't like to go where he 's like to have remarks made about him. There 's many a man, and woman too, stays away from church Ijecause they have n't clothes they think are good enough to wear in such com- pany." "Yon see, AVellman would be glad to take you," said the lawyer. "But Hank 's a Methodist," said the old man. "I have n't any claim in him." "There ain't any Methodist nor Baptist, nor anything in good neighborship," said Wellman; 204 The Hip-roof House. ^'aiul if YOU have had misfortunes, you 've al- ways had good neighbors, Deacon Waugh," said AVelhnan, "That I have! that I have!" said the old man, humbly bowing Ids head. "And I think," said the lawyer, "the whole town would turn Presbyterians, just for one day, to see Killis Waugli sitting by Joe and 'Cindy in the old pew again. I know I 'd be glad to step across the street and carry one side of his chair down the aisle," "Would ye, nowf said the old man, wist- fully. "I 've more 'n half a mind to take ye at your word — botli on ye." The lawyer drove away witli a light heart, and peace rested on the unincumbered Hip-roof House. AVord came from the captain, approv- ing all that had been done, and urging Joe to the closest attention to study, in order to be prepared for a position much more onerous than that which he had pieviously occupied. The parcel business, the captain wrote, had Ax Indenture. 205 developed quite beyond anticipation, and it was possible lie might not command the Queen the next year, as there was talk of organizing a new business, which would be under his charge. He promised that he would stop on his way up the lake after the season closed, on condition that he should not be thanked for what he had done. So far as the money already paid was concerned, he insisted that the business acci- dentally established through Joe's faithfulness and activity had much more than reimbursed the owners of the Queen, and in consideration of this fact, they thought of christening their new business, 'The Joe Thompson Express Company." As for what he proposed doing, the captain declared that was only "a private investment in the future of a boy," on which he expected great profits. Though the company was not named after Joe, it was duly established after some years; and, after David Moxom ceased to be the captain of the Queen, came to be known to two conti- 2UG The Hip-roof House. nents as well as lie had been bv liis passengers; being noted always fur the same qualities, reli- ability, and dispatch. ^Neither want nor the fear of want ever came again to the gentle owner of the Hip-roof House, whose cup of joy was full to overflowing, when on Thanlcsgiving-day, David Moxom sat again at his humble board. It was a homely but bountiful repast he had driven ahead of the stage to partake of with his grateful friends. Joe worshiped his hero in silence, and 'Cindy served them — a blushing Hebe, of whose beauty the captain of the Queen often thought when his mind recurred to his investment in the future of the occupants of the old Hip-roof House. Perhaps it had been better if he could have forgotten. THE END. ^' xixyjx xjx yjx xjx xjx yjx x.i x x^x x^x x+x X|X xjx xix xjx xjx xix xjx ^ ETCHINGS FROM A PARSONAGE VERANDA. By MRS. E. JEFFERS GRAHAM. i2ino. Cloth. Illustrated. i8y pages, 60 cents. " The style is bright, unconventional, interesting. Humor and pathos blend as sketch after sketch passes in review. Cant and hypocrisy in the garb of piety are stripped of their disguises. Integrity of character, in whatever station found, receives its meed of honor. Everj' one who begins the book will finish it, and no one can finish it without being enter- tained and helped."— Orz^i^zaw Uplook, Buffalo, N. Y. A GREAT APPOINTMENT. By MVRA GOODWIN PLANTZ. z2mo. Cloth. 2/8 pages, go cents. "Mrs. Plantz knows well how to interest young people, and her books find a welcome place on the Sunday-school library shelves," and in the home circle. A devoted young Methodist minister is sent to his first charge — a poor, little community in the lumber region of Lake Superior. His sister is to keep house for him. Of their self-denying work, of the love which comes to crown both their young lives, one must read in the book itself" — Zion's Herald, Boston, Mass. CURTS &. JENNINGS, Cincinnati, Chicago. St. Louis. X y^'^^y^'^^^^^^^^^'^y^^^^'^'^^^^^'^y^'^^^j^.x^'* X4.xxixxixxix xixxix >)^ ONE RICH MAN'S SON. By EMMA LEFFERTS SUPER. 121)10. Cloth. Illustrated. 201^ poges, po cents. "It is not a book of soft sentiment, but of good, hard sense. It is not a dull collection of platitudes, but a ster- ling story. A story of the last twenty years. A story of school and college life. A story of the faithfulness of the old-fashioned Negro slave. A stor}^ of the mistakes voung and old may make. A story of the devilish influences of fast, though so-called respectable society. It is -well told, and the interest is maintained to the end." — Evening Herald, Binghamton, N.Y. NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBORS. By MRS. I. T. THURSTON. /2mo. Cloth. Illustrated. 32J pages, $1.00. "It is what its title indicates — a story about neighbors though by no means a book of gossip. ... In a manner full of charming interest, it tells the story of a communit)* of homes — of neighbors who were neighborly, and of neighbors who were not at all neighborh*. And then, as the plot unfolds, we see how the spirit of true neighbor- linesss swept away all barriers, and brought all hearts into happy, neighborly fellowship." — Western Recorder^ Louisville, Ky. CURTS & JENNINGS, Cincinnati. Chicago, St. Louis. 14 DAY USE RETURN TO DESK FROM WHICH BORROWED LOAN DEPT. This book is due on the last date stamped below, or on the date to which renewed. Renewed books are subjea to immediate recall. ^Ciyidi'-:-'p ^ Re.C'P LD MAR 24 1959 SENT ON ILL JUL 1 *» 1997 U.C. BERKELEY T-rvoiA irr. r>> = o G€neral Library \y^f<^f^.M^t^ THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA LIBRARY