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WHAT MIGHT HAVEBEEN EXPECTED

ByFrank R. Stockton

New YorkDodd, Mead and Company

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Copyright, 1874, by Dodd & MeadCopyright, 1902, by Marian E. Stockton

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CONTENTS

CHAPTER PAGEI. Harry Loudon Makes Up His Mind. 9II. The Adoption. 15III. Commencing Business. 21IV. Kate, very naturally, is Anxious. 30V. The Turkey-Hunter. 38VI. Tony Strikes Out. 47VII. Aunt Matilda's Christmas. 58VIII. A Lively Team. 71IX. Business in Earnest. 85X. A Meeting on the Road. 97XI. Rob. 103XII. Tony on the War-path. 112XIII. Cousin Maria. 118XIV. Harry's Grand Scheme. 124XV. The Council. 135XVI. Company Business. 143XVII. Principally Concerning Kate. 154XVIII. The Arrival. 164XIX. Constructing the Line. 172XX. An Important Meeting of the Board. 181XXI. A Last Resort. 189XXII. A Quandary. 194XXIII. Crossing the Creek. 202XXIV. The First Business Telegrams. 210XXV. Profits and Projects. 225XXVI. A Grand Proposition. 237XXVII. How Something Came to an End. 246XXVIII. A Meeting. 253XXIX. Once more in the Woods. 257XXX. A Girl and a Gun. 264XXXI. A Man in a Boat. 271XXXII. Aunt Matilda's Letter. 277XXXIII. Time to Stop. 286

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WHAT MIGHT HAVE BEEN EXPECTED. 

CHAPTER I. 

HARRY LOUDON MAKES UP HIS MIND. 

On a wooden bench under a great catalpa-tree, in the front yard of acomfortable country-house in Virginia, sat Harry and Kate Loudonworrying their minds. It was all about old Aunt Matilda. 

Aunt Matilda was no relation of these children. She was an old coloredwoman, who lived in a cabin about a quarter of a mile from their house, but they considered her one of their best friends. Her old log cabin wastheir favorite resort, and many a fine time they had there. When theycaught some fish, or Harry shot a bird or two, or when they could getsome sweet potatoes or apples to roast, and some corn-meal forash-cakes, they would take their provisions to Aunt Matilda and shewould cook them. Sometimes an ash-cake would be baked rather harder thanit was convenient to bite, and it had happened that a fish or two hadbeen cooked entirely away, but such mishaps were not common. AuntMatilda was indeed a most wonderful cook--and a cook, too, who liked tohave a boy and a girl by her while she was at work; and who would tellthem stories--as queer old stories as ever were told--while the thingswere cooking. The stories were really the cause of the ash-cakes andfish sometimes being forgotten. 

And it is no wonder that these children were troubled in their minds. They had just heard that Aunt Matilda was to go to the alms-house. 

Harry and Kate were silent. They had mourned over the news, and Kate hadcried. There was nothing more to be done about it, so far as she couldsee. 

But all of a sudden Harry jumped up. "I tell you what it is Kate, " heexclaimed; "I've made up my mind! Aunt Matilda is not going to thealms-house. I will support her myself!"

"Oh, that will be splendid!" cried Kate; "but you can never do it!"

"Yes, I can, " said Harry. "There are ever so many ways in which I canearn money. "

"What are you going to do?" said Kate; "will you let me help?"

"Yes, " said her brother; "you may help if you can, but I don't think youwill be of much use. As for me, I shall do plenty of things. I shall goout with my gun--"

"But there is nothing to shoot, now in the summer-time, " said Kate. 

"No, there isn't much yet, to be sure, " said her brother, "but beforevery long there will be partridges and hares, plenty of them; and fatherand Captain Caseby will buy all I shoot. And you see, until it is timefor game I'm going to gather sumac. "

"Oh! I can help you in that, " cried Kate. 

"Yes, I believe you can, " said her brother. "And now, suppose we go downand see Aunt Matilda, and have a talk with her about it. "

"Just wait until I get my bonnet, " said Kate. And she dashed into thehouse, and then, with a pink calico sun-bonnet on her head, she camedown the steps in two jumps, and the brother and sister, together, hurried through the woods to Aunt Matilda's cabin. 

Harry and Kate Loudon were well-educated children, and, in manyrespects, knew more than most girls and boys who were older than they. Harry had been taught by his father to ride and to swim and to shoot ascarefully as his school-teacher had taught him to spell and to parse. And he was not only taught to be skillful in these outdoor pursuits, butto be prudent, and kind-hearted. When he went gunning, he shot birds andgame that were fit for the table; and when he rode, he remembered thathis horse had feelings as well as himself. Being a boy of good naturalimpulses, he might have found out these things for himself; but, forfear that he might be too long about it, his father carefully taught himthat it was possible to shoot and to hunt and to ride without beingeither careless or cruel. It must not be supposed that Harry was soextremely particular that there was no fun in him, for he had discoveredthat there is just as much fun in doing things right as in doing themwrong; and as there was not a boy in all the country round about whocould ride or swim or shoot so well as Harry, so there was none who hada more generally jolly time than he. 

His sister Kate was a sharp, bright, intelligent girl, rather inclinedto be wild when opportunity offered; but very affectionate, and alwaysas ready for outdoor sports as any boy. She could not shoot--at least, she never tried--and she did not ride much on horseback, but sheenjoyed fishing, and rambles through the woods were to her a constantdelight. When anything was to be done, especially if it was anythingnovel, Kate was always ready to help. If anybody had a plan on hand, itwas very hard to keep her finger out of it; and if there werecalculations to be made, it was all the better. Kate had a fine head formathematics, and, on the whole, she rather preferred a slate and pencilto needles and spool-cotton. 

As to Aunt Matilda, there could be no doubt about her case being apretty hard one. She was quite old and decrepit when the war set herfree, and, at the time of our story, she was still older and stiffer. Her former master had gone to the North to live, and as she had nofamily to support her, the poor old woman was compelled to depend uponthe charity of her neighbors. For a time she managed to get alongtolerably well, but it was soon found that she would suffer if shedepended upon occasional charity, especially after she became unable togo after food or help. Mr. And Mrs. Loudon were very willing to give herwhat they could, but they had several poor people entirely dependentupon them, and they found it impossible to add to the number of theirpensioners. So it was finally determined among the neighbors that AuntMatilda would have to go to the alms-house, which place was provided forjust such poor persons as she. Neither Harry nor Kate knew much aboutthe alms-house, but they thought it must be some sort of a horribleplace; and, at any rate, it was too hard that Aunt Matilda should haveto leave her old home where she had spent so many, many years. 

And they did not intend she should do it. 

CHAPTER II. 

THE ADOPTION. 

When the children reached Aunt Matilda's cabin, they found the old womanseated by a very small fire, which was burning in one corner of thehearth. 

"Are you cold, Aunt Matilda?" asked Kate. 

"Lor' bless you, no, honey! But you see there wasn't hardly any coalsleft, and I was tryin' to keep the fire alive till somebody would comealong and gather me up some wood. "

"Then you were going to cook your breakfast, I suppose, " said Harry. 

"Yes, child, if somebody 'ud come along and fetch me something to eat. "

"Haven't you anything at all in the house?" asked Kate. 

"Not a pinch o' meal, nor nothin' else, " said the old woman; "but I'spected somebody 'ud be along. "

"Did you know, Aunt Matilda, " said Harry, "that they are going to sendyou to the alms-house?"

"Yes; I heerd 'em talk about it, " said Aunt Matilda, shaking her head;"but the alms-house ain't no place for me. "

"That's so!" said Kate, quickly. "And you're not going there, either!"

"No, " said Harry: "Kate and I intend to take care of you for the rest ofyour life. "

"Lor', children, you can't do it!" said the old woman, looking inastonishment from one to the other of these youngsters who proposed toadopt her. 

"Yes; but we can, " said Harry. "Just you wait and see. "

"It'll take a good deal o' money, " said the old woman, who did not seemto be altogether satisfied with the prospects held out before her. "More'n you all will ever be able to git. "

"How much money would be enough for you to live on, Aunt Matilda?" askedHarry. 

"Dunno. Takes a heap o' money to keep a person. "

"Well, now, " said Kate, "let's see exactly how much it will take. Haveyou a pencil, Harry? I have a piece of paper in my pocket, I think. Yes;here it is. Now, let's set down everything, and see what it comes to. "

So saying, she sat down on a low stool with her paper on her knees, andher pencil in her hand. 

"What shall we begin with?" said she. 

"We'll begin with corn-meal, " said Harry. "How much corn-meal do you eatin a week, Aunt Matilda?"

"Dunno, " said she, "'spect about a couple o' pecks. "

"Oh, Aunt Matilda!" cried Kate, "our whole family wouldn't eat two pecksin a week. "

"Well, then, a half-peck, " said she; "'pends a good deal on how many isliving in a house. "

"Yes; but we only mean this for you, Aunt Matilda. We don't mean it foranybody else. "

"Well, then, I reckon a quarter of a peck would do, for jest me. "

"We will allow you a peck, " said Harry, "and that will be twenty-fivecents a week. Set that down, Kate. "

"All right, " said Kate. And she set down at the top of the paper, "Meal, 25 cents. "

The children proceeded in this way to calculate how much bacon, molasses, coffee, and sugar would suffice for Aunt Matilda's support;and they found that the cost, per week, at the rates of the countrystores, with which they were both familiar, would be seventy-seven andthree-quarter cents. 

"Is there anything else, Aunt Matilda?" asked Kate. 

"Nuffin I can think on, " said Aunt Matilda, "'cept milk. "

"Oh, I can get that for nothing, " said Kate. "I will bring it to youfrom home; and I will bring you some butter too, when I can get it. "

"And I'll pick up wood for you, " said Harry. "I can gather enough in thewoods in a couple of hours to last you for a week. "

"Lor' bless you, chil'en, " said Aunt Matilda, "I hope you'll be able todo all dat. "

Harry stood quiet a few minutes, reflecting. 

"How much would seventy-seven and three quarter cents a week amount toin a year, Kate?" said he. 

Kate rapidly worked out the problem, and answered: "Forty dollars andforty-three cents. "

"Lor'! but that's a heap o' money!" said Aunt Matilda. "That's more'n I'spect to have all the rest of my life. "

"How old are you, Aunt Matilda?" said Harry. 

"I 'spect about fifty, " said the old woman. 

"Oh, Aunt Matilda!" cried Harry, "you're certainly more than fifty. WhenI was a very little fellow, I remember that you were very old--atleast, sixty or seventy. "

"Well, then, I 'spects I'se about ninety, " said Aunt Matilda. 

"But you can't be ninety!" said Kate. "The Bible says that seventy yearsis the common length of a person's life. "

"Them was Jews, " said Aunt Matilda. "It didn't mean no cull'd people. Cull'd people live longer than that. But p'raps a cull'd Jew wouldn'tlive very long. "

"Well, " said Harry, "it makes no difference how old you are. We're goingto take care of you for the rest of your life. "

Kate was again busy with her paper. 

"In five years, Harry, " she said, "It will be two hundred and twodollars and fifteen cents. "

"Lor'!" cried Aunt Matilda, "you chil'en will nebber git dat. "

"But we don't have to get it all at once, Aunt Matilda, " said Harry, laughing; "and you needn't be afraid that we can't do it. Come, Kate, it's time for us to be off. "

And then the conference broke up. The question of Aunt Matilda's futuresupport was settled. They had forgotten clothes, to be sure; but it isvery difficult to remember everything. 

CHAPTER III. 

COMMENCING BUSINESS. 

When they reached home, Harry and Kate put together what little moneythey had, and found that they could buy food enough to last Aunt Matildafor several days. This Harry procured and carried down to the old womanthat day. He also gathered and piled up inside of her cabin a goodsupply of wood. Fortunately, there was a spring very near her door, sothat she could get water without much trouble. 

Harry and Kate determined that they would commence business in earnestthe next morning, and, as this was not the season for game, theydetermined to go to work to gather sumac-leaves. 

Most of us are familiar with the sumac-bush, which grows nearly all overthe United States. Of course we do not mean the poisonous swamp-sumac, but that which grows along the fences and on the edges of the woods. Oflate years the leaves of this bush have been greatly in demand fortanning purposes, and, in some States, especially in Virginia, sumacgathering has become a very important branch of industry, particularlywith the negroes; many of whom, during the sumac season, prefergathering these leaves to doing any other kind of work. The sumac-bushis quite low, and the leaves are easily stripped off. They are thencarefully dried, and packed in bags, and carried to the nearest place ofsale, generally a country store. 

The next morning, Harry and Kate made preparations for a regularexpedition. They were to take their dinner, and stay all day. Kate wasenraptured--even more so, perhaps, than Harry. Each of them had a largebag, and Harry carried his gun, for who could tell what they might meetwith? A mink, perhaps, or a fox, or even a beaver! They had a long walk, but it was through the woods, and there was always something to see inthe woods. In a couple of hours, for they stopped very often, theyreached a little valley, through which ran Crooked Creek. And on thebanks of Crooked Creek were plenty of sumac-bushes. This place was atsome distance from any settlement, and apparently had not been visitedby sumac gatherers. 

"Hurra!" cried Kate, "here is enough to fill a thousand bags!"

Harry leaned his gun against a tree, and hung up his shot and powderflasks, and they both went to work gathering sumac. There was plenty ofit, but Kate soon found that what they saw would not fill a thousandbags. There were a good many bushes, but they were small; and, when allthe leaves were stripped off one, and squeezed into a bag, they did notmake a very great show. However, they did very well, and, for an hour orso, they worked on merrily. Then they had dinner. Harry built a fire. Heeasily found dry branches, and he had brought matches and paper withhim. At a little distance under a great pine-tree, Kate selected a levelplace, and cleared away the dead leaves and the twigs, leaving a smoothtable of dry and fragrant pine-needles. On this she spread the cloth, which was a napkin. Then she took from the little basket she had broughtwith her a cake of corn-meal, several thick and well-buttered slices ofwheat bread, some hard-boiled eggs, a little paper of pepper and salt, apiece of cheese, and some fried chicken. When this was spread out (andit would not all go on the cloth), Harry came, and looked at the repast. 

"What is there to cook?" said he. 

Kate glanced over her table, with a perplexed look upon her countenance, and said, "I don't believe there is anything to cook. "

"But we ought to cook something, " said Harry. "Here is a splendid fire. What's the good of camping out if you don't cook things?"

"But everything is cooked, " said Kate. 

"So it seems, " said Harry, in a somewhat discouraged tone. Had he builtthat beautiful fire for nothing? "We ought to have brought alongsomething raw, " said he. "It is ridiculous eating a cold dinner, with asplendid fire like that. "

"We might catch some fish, " said Kate; "we should have to cook _them_. "

"Yes, " said Harry, "but I brought no lines. "

So, as there was nothing else to be done, they ate their dinner cold, and when they had finished, Kate cleared off the table by giving thenapkin a flirt, and they were ready for work again. But first they wentto look for a spring, where they could get a drink. In about half anhour they found a spring, and some wild plums, and some blackberries, and a grape-vine (which would surely be full of grapes in the fall, andwas therefore a vine to be remembered), and a stone, which Kate wasquite certain was an Indian arrow-head, and some tracks in the whitesand, which must have been made by some animal or other, althoughneither of them was able to determine exactly what animal. 

When they returned to the pine-tree, Kate took up her bag. Harryfollowed her example, but somewhat slowly, as if he were thinking ofsomething else. 

"I tell you, Harry, " said Kate, "suppose you take your gun and go alongthe creek and see what that was that made the tracks. If it was anythingwith fur on it, it would come to more than the sumac. I will stay here, and go on filling my bag. "

"Well, " said Harry, after a moment's hesitation, "I might go a littleway up the creek. I needn't be gone long. I would certainly like to findthat creature, if I can. "

"All right, " said Kate; "I think you'll find it. "

So Harry loaded his gun, and hurried off to find the tracks of themysterious, and probably fur-covered animal. 

Kate worked away cheerfully, singing a little song, and filling her bagwith the sumac-leaves. It was now much warmer, and she began to findthat sumac picking, all alone, was not very interesting, and she hopedthat Harry would soon find his animal, whatever it was. Then, afterpicking a little longer, she thought she would sit down, and restawhile. So she dragged her bag to the pine-tree, and sat down, leaningher back against the tall trunk. She took her bag of sumac in her arms, and lifted it up, trying to estimate its weight. 

"There must be ten pounds here!" she said, "No--it don't feel veryheavy, but then there are so many of the leaves. It ought to weighfifteen pounds. And they will be a cent a pound if we take pay in trade, and three-quarters of a cent if we want cash. But, of course, we willtake things in trade. "

And then she put down the bag, and began to calculate. 

"Fifteen pounds, fifteen cents, and at seventy-seven and three-quartercents per week, that would support Aunt Matilda nearly a day and a half;and then, if Harry has as much more, that will keep her almost threedays; and if we pick for two hours longer, when Harry comes back, we mayget ten pounds more apiece, which will make it pretty heavy; but then wewon't have to come again for nearly five days; and if Harry shoots anotter, I reckon he can get a dollar for the skin--or a pair of glovesof it--kid gloves, and my pink dress--and we'll go in thecarriage--two horses--four horses--a prince with a feather--somebutterflies--" and Kate was asleep. 

When Kate awoke, she saw by the sun that she had been asleep for severalhours. She sprang to her feet. "Where is Harry?" she cried. But nobodyanswered. Then she was frightened, for he might be lost. But soon shereflected that that was very ridiculous, for neither of them could belost in that neighborhood which they knew so well. Then she sat down andwaited, quite anxiously, it must be admitted. But Harry did not come, and the sun sank lower. Presently she rose with an air of determination. 

"I can't wait any longer, " she said, "or it will be dark before I gethome. Harry has followed that thing up the creek ever so far, and thereis no knowing when he will get back, and it won't do for me to stayhere. I'll go home, and leave a note for him. "

She put her hand in her pocket, and there was Harry's pencil, which shehad borrowed in the morning and forgot to return, and also the piece ofpaper on which she had made her calculation of the cost of AuntMatilda's board. The back of this would do very well for a note. So shewrote on it:

 I am going home, for it is getting late. I shall go back by the same road we came. Your sumac-bag is in the bushes between the tree and the creek. Bring this piece of paper with you, as it has Aunt Matilda's expenses on the outside. 

 Kate. 

This note she pinned up against the pine tree, where Harry could notfail to see it. Then she hid her brother's sumac-bag in the bushes and, shouldering her own bag, which, by-the-way, did not weigh so many poundsas she thought it did, set out for home. 

CHAPTER IV. 

KATE, VERY NATURALLY, IS ANXIOUS. 

Kate hurried through the woods, for she was afraid she would not reachhome until after dark, and indeed it was then quite like twilight in theshade of the great trees around her. The road on which she was walkingwas, however, clear and open, and she was certain she knew the way. Asshe hastened on, she could not help feeling that she was wasting thisdelightful walk through the woods. Her old friends were around her, andthough she knew them all so well, she could not stop to spend any timewith them. There were the oaks--the black-oak with its shiningmany-pointed leaves, the white-oak with its lighter green thoughduller-hued foliage, and the chestnut-oak with its long and thicklyclustered leaves. Then there were the sweet-gums, fragrant andstar-leaved, and the black-gum, tough, dark, and unpretending. No littlegirl in the county knew more about the trees of her native place thanKate; for she had made good use of her long rides through the countrywith her father. Here were the chincapin-bushes, like miniaturechestnut-trees, and here were the beautiful poplars. She knew them bytheir bright leaves, which looked as though they had been snipped off atthe top with a pair of scissors. And here, right in front of her, wasUncle Braddock. She knew him by his many-colored dressing-gown, withoutwhich he never appeared in public. It was one of the most curiousdressing-gowns ever seen, as Uncle Braddock was one of the most curiousold colored men ever seen. The gown was not really as old as its wearer, but it looked older. It was composed of about a hundred pieces ofdifferent colors and patterns--red, green, blue, yellow, and brown;striped, spotted, plain, and figured with flowers and vines. Thesepieces, from year to year, had been put on as patches, and some of themwere quilted on, and some were sewed, and some were pinned. The gown wasvery long and came down to Uncle Braddock's heels, which were also verylong and bobbed out under the bottom of the gown as if they were tryingto kick backward. But Uncle Braddock never kicked. He was very old andhe had all the different kinds of rheumatism, and walked bent overnearly at right-angles, supporting himself by a long cane like abean-pole, which he grasped in the middle. There was probably noparticular reason why he should bend over so very much, but he seemed tolike to walk in that way, and nobody objected. He was a good old soul, and Kate was delighted to see him. 

"Uncle Braddock!" she cried. 

The old man stopped and turned around, almost standing up straight inhis astonishment at seeing the young girl alone in the woods. 

"Why, Miss Kate!" he exclaimed, as she came up with him, "what in theworld is you doin' h'yar?"

"I've been gathering sumac, " said Kate, as they walked on together, "andHarry's gone off, and I couldn't wait any longer and I'm just as glad asI can be to see you, Uncle Braddock, for I was beginning to be afraid, because its getting dark so fast, and your dressing-gown looked prettierto me than all the trees when I first caught sight of it. But I thinkyou ought to have it washed, Uncle Braddock. "

"Wash him!" said Uncle Braddock, with a chuckle, as if the suggestionwas a very funny joke; "dat wouldn't do, no how. He'd wash all to bits, and the pins would stick 'em in the hands. Couldn't wash him, Miss Kate;it's too late for dat now. Might have washed him before de war, p'raps. We was stronger, den. But what you getherin sumac for, Miss Kate? If youwhite folks goes pickin it all, there won't be none lef' soon fur decull'ed people, dat's mighty certain. "

"Why, I'm picking it for the colored people, " said Kate, "at least forone colored person. "

"Why don't you let 'em pick it the'rselves?" asked the old man. 

"Because Aunt Matilda can't do it, " said Kate. 

"Is dat sumac fur Aunt Matilda?" said Uncle Braddock. 

"Yes, it is, " said Kate, "and Harry's been gathering some, and we'regoing to pick enough to get her all she wants. Harry and I intend totake care of her now. You know they were going to send her to thealms-house. "

"Well, I declar!" exclaimed the old man. "I neber did hear de like o'dat afore. Why, you all isn't done bein' tuk care of you'selves. " Katelaughed, and explained their plans, getting quite enthusiastic about it. 

"Lem me carry dat bag, " said Uncle Braddock. "Oh no!" said Kate, "you'retoo old to be carrying bags. "

"Jis lem me hab it, " said he; "it's trouble enuf fur me to get along, anyway, and a bag or two don't make no kind o' dif'rence. "

Kate found herself obliged to consent, and as the bag was beginning tofeel very heavy for her, and as it did not seem to make the slightestdifference, as he had said, to Uncle Braddock, she was very glad to berid of it. 

But when at last they reached the village, and Uncle Braddock went overthe fields to his cabin, Kate ran into the house, carrying her bag withease, for she was excited by the hope that Harry had come home by someshorter way, and that she should find him in the house. 

But there was no Harry there. And soon it was night, and yet he did notcome. 

Matters now looked serious, and about nine o'clock Mr. Loudon, with twoof the neighbors, started out into the woods to look for Aunt Matilda'syoung guardian. 

Kate's mother was away on a visit to her relations in another county, and so the little girl passed the night on the sofa in the parlor, witha colored woman asleep on the rug before the fireplace. Kate would notgo to bed. She determined to stay awake until Harry should come home. But the sofa-cushions became more and more pleasant, and very soon shewas dreaming that Harry had shot a giraffe, and had skinned it, and hadstuffed the skin full of sumac-leaves, and that he and she were pullingit through the woods, and that the legs caught in the trees and theycould not get it along, and then she woke up. It was bright daylight. But Harry had not come!

There was no news. Mr. Loudon and his friends were still absent. PoorKate was in despair, and could not touch the breakfast, which wasprepared at the usual hour. 

About nine o'clock a company of negro sumac gatherers appeared on theroad which passed Mr. Loudon's house. It was a curious party. On a rudecart, drawn by two little oxen, was a pile of bags filled withsumac-leaves, which were supported by poles stuck around the cart andbound together by ropes. On the top of the pile sat a negro, plying along whip and shouting to the oxen. Behind the cart, and on each side ofit, were negroes, men and women, carrying huge bales of sumac on theirheads. Bags, pillow-cases, bed-ticks, sheets and coverlets had beencalled into requisition to hold the precious leaves. Here was a womanwith a great bundle on her head, which sank down so as to almostentirely conceal her face; and near her was an old man who supported onhis bare head a load that looked heavy enough for a horse. Even littlechildren carried bundles considerably larger than themselves, and allwere laughing and talking merrily as they made their way to the villagestore at the cross-roads. 

Kate ran eagerly out to question these people. They must certainly haveseen Harry. 

The good-natured negroes readily stopped to talk with Kate. Theox-driver halted his team, and every head-burdened man, woman, and childclustered around her, until it seemed as if sumac clouds had spreadbetween her and the sky, and had obscured the sun. 

But no one had seen Harry. In fact, this company, with the accumulatedproceeds of a week's sumac gathering, had come from a portion of thecounty many miles from Crooked Creek, and of course, they could bring nonews to Kate. 

CHAPTER V. 

THE TURKEY-HUNTER. 

When Harry left Kate, he quietly walked by the side of Crooked Creek, keeping his eyes fixed on the tracks of the strange animal, and histhumb on the hammer of the right-hand barrel of his gun. Before long thetracks disappeared, and disappeared, too, directly in front of a hole inthe bank; quite a large hole, big enough for a beaver or an otter. Thiswas capital luck! Harry got down on his hands and knees and examined thetracks. Sure enough, the toes pointed toward the hole. It must be inthere!

Harry cocked his gun and sat and waited. He was as still as a deadmouse. There was no earthly reason why the creature should not come out, except perhaps that it might not want to come out. At any rate, it couldnot know that Harry was outside waiting for it. 

He waited a long time without ever thinking how the day was passing on;and it began to be a little darkish, just a little, before he thoughtthat perhaps he had better go back to Kate. 

But it might be just coming out, and what a shame to move! A skin thatwould bring five dollars was surely worth waiting for a little whilelonger, and he might never have such another chance. He certainly hadnever had such a one before. 

And so he still sat and waited, and pretty soon he heard something. Butit was not in the hole--not near him at all. It was farther along thecreek, and sounded like the footsteps of some one walking stealthily. 

Harry looked around quickly, and, about thirty yards from him, he saw aman with a gun. The man was now standing still, looking steadily at him. At least Harry thought he was, but there was so little light in thewoods by this time that he could not be sure about it. What was that manafter? Could he be watching him?

Harry was afraid to move. Perhaps the man mistook him for some kind ofan animal. To be sure, he could not help thinking that boys wereanimals, but he did not suppose the man would want to shoot a boy, if heknew it. But how could any one tell that Harry was a boy at thatdistance, and in that light. 

Poor Harry did not even dare to call out. He could not speak withoutmoving something, his lips any way, and the man might fire at theslightest motion. He was so quiet that the musk-rat--it was a musk-ratthat lived in the hole--came out of his house, and seeing the boy sostill, supposed he was nothing of any consequence, and so trottednoiselessly along to the water and slipped in for a swim. Harry neversaw him. His eyes were fixed on the man. 

For some minutes longer--they seemed like hours--he remainedmotionless. And then he could bear it no longer. 

"Hel-low!" he cried. 

"Hel-low!" said the man. 

Then Harry got up trembling and pale, and the man came toward him. 

"Why, I didn't know what you were, " said the man. 

"Tony Kirk!" exclaimed Harry. Yes, it was Tony Kirk, sure enough, a manwho would never shoot a boy--if he knew it. 

"What are you doing here, " asked Tony, "a-squattin' in the dirt atsupper-time?"

Harry told him what he was doing, and how he had been frightened, andthen the remark about supper-time made him think of his sister. "Mysenses!" he cried, "there's Kate! she must think I'm lost. "

"Kate!" exclaimed Tony. "What Kate? You don't mean your sister!"

"Yes, I do, " said Harry; and away he ran down the shore of the creek. Tony followed, and when he reached the big pine-tree, there was Harrygazing blankly around him. 

"She's gone!" faltered the boy. 

"I should think so, " said Tony, "if she knew what was good for her. What's this?" His quick eyes had discovered the paper on the tree. 

Tony pulled the paper from the pine trunk and tried to read it, butHarry was at his side in an instant, and saw it was Kate's writing. Itwas almost too dark to read it, but he managed, by holding it toward thewest, to make it out. 

"She's gone home, " he said, "and I must be after her;" and he preparedto start. 

"Hold up!" cried Tony; "I'm going that way. And so you've been getherin'sumac. " Harry had read the paper aloud. "There's no use o' leavin' yerbag. Git it out o' the bushes, and come along with me. "

Harry soon found his bag, and then he and Tony set out along the road. 

"What are you after?" asked Harry. 

"Turkeys, " said Tony. 

Tony Kirk was always after turkeys. He was a wild-turkey hunter byprofession. It is true there were seasons of the year when he did notshoot turkeys, but although at such times he worked a little at farmingand fished a little, he nearly always found it necessary to do somethingthat related to turkeys. He watched their haunts, he calculated theirincrease, he worked out problems which proved to him where he would findthem most plentiful in the fall, and his mind was seldom free from theconsideration of the turkey question. 

"Isn't it rather early for turkeys?" asked Harry. 

"Well, yes, " said Tony, "but I'm tired o' waitin. "

"I'm goin' to make a short cut, " continued Tony, striking out of theroad into a narrow path in the woods. "You can save half a mile bycomin' this way. "

So Harry followed him. 

"I don't mind takin' you, " said Tony, "fur I know you kin keep a secret. My turkey-blind is over yander;" and as he said this he put his handinto his coat pocket and pulled out a handful of shelled corn, which hebegan to scatter along the path, a grain or two at a time. After ten orfifteen minutes' walking, Tony scattering corn all the way, they came toa mass of oak and chestnut boughs, piled up on one side of the path likea barrier. This was the turkey-blind. It was four or five feet high, andbehind it Tony was accustomed to sit in the early gray of the morning, waiting for the turkeys which he hoped to entice that way by means ofhis long line of shelled corn. 

"You see I build my blind, " said he to Harry, "and then I don't comehere till I've sprinkled my corn for about a week, and got the turkeysused to comin' this way after it. Then I get back o' that thar at nightand wait till the airly mornin', when they're sartin to come gobblin'along, till I can get a good crack at 'em. " With this he sat down on alog, which Harry could scarcely see, so dark was it in the woods by thistime. 

"Are you tired?" said Harry. 

"No, " answered Tony; "I'm goin' to stop here. I want to be ready fur 'embefore it begins to be light. "

"But how am I to get home?" said Harry. 

"Oh, jist keep straight on in that track. It'll take yer straight to thestore, ef ye don't turn out uv it. "

"Can't you come along and show me?" said Harry. "I can't find the waythrough these dark woods. "

"It's easy enough, " said Tony, striking a match to light his pipe. "Icould find my way with my eyes shut. And it would not do fur me to go. I'll make too much noise comin' back. There's no knowin' how soon theturkeys will begin to stir about. "

"Then you oughtn't to have brought me here, " said Harry, much provoked. 

"I wanted to show you a short way home, " said Tony, puffing away at hispipe. 

Harry answered not a word, but set out along the path. In a minute ortwo he ran against a tree; then he turned to the right and stumbled overa root, dropping his bag and nearly losing his hold of his gun. He wassoon convinced that it was all nonsense to try to get home by that path, and he slowly made his way back to Tony. 

"I'll tell ye what it is, " said the turkey-hunter, "ef you think you'dhurt yerself findin' yer way home, and I thought you knew the woodsbetter than that, you might as well stay here with me. I'll take youhome bright an' airly. You needn't trouble yerself about yer sister. She's home long ago. It must have been bright daylight when she wrote onthat paper, and she could keep the road easy enough. "

Harry said nothing, but sat down on the other end of the log. Tony didnot seem to notice his vexation, but talked to him, explaining themysteries of turkey-hunting and the delight of spending a night in thewoods, where everything was so cool and dry and still. "There's nononsense here, " said Tony. "Ef there's any place where a feller kin havepeace and comfert, it's in the woods, at night. "

By degrees Harry became interested and forgot his annoyance. Kate wascertainly safe at home, and as it was impossible for him to find his wayout of the depths of the woods, he might as well be content. He couldnot even hope to regain the road by the way they came. 

When Tony had finished his pipe he took Harry behind his blind. "All youhave to do, " said he, "is jist to peep over here and level your gunalong that path, keepin' yer eye fixed straight in front of you, andafter awhile you can begin to see things. Suppose that dark lump downyander was a turkey. Just look at it long enough and you kin make itout. You see what I mean, don't you?"

"Yes, " said Harry, peeping over the blind; "I see it;" and then, with asudden jump, he whispered, "Tony! it's moving. " Tony did not answer fora moment, and then he hurriedly whispered back, "That's so! It _is_moving. "

CHAPTER VI. 

TONY STRIKES OUT. 

There was no doubt about it, something _was_ moving. There was a rise inthe ground a short distance in front of the turkey-blind, and a littlepatch of dark sky was visible between the trees. Across this bit of skysomething dark was slowly passing. 

"Ye kin see 'most anything in the darkest night, " whispered Tony, "ef yekin only git the sky behind it. But that's no turkey. "

"What do you think it is?" said Harry, softly. "It's big enough for aturkey. "

"Too big, " said Tony. "Let's git after it. You slip along the path, andI'll go round ahead of it. Feel yer way, and don't make no noise if yerun agin anything. And mind this"--and here Tony spoke in one of themost impressive of whispers--"don't you fire till yer _dead certain_what it is. "

With this Tony slipped away into the darkness, and Harry, grasping hisgun, set out to feel his way. He felt his way along the path for a shorttime, and then he felt his way out of it. Then he crept into a low, softplace, full of ferns, and out of that he carefully felt his way into abig bush, where he knocked off his hat. When he found his hat, whichtook him some time, he gradually worked himself out into a place wherethe woods were a little more open, and there he caught another glimpseof the sky just at the top of the ridge. There was something darkagainst the sky, and Harry watched it for a long time. At last, as itdid not move at all, he came to the conclusion that it must be a bush, and he was entirely correct. For an hour or two he quietly crept amongthe trees, hoping he would either find the thing that was moving or getback to the turkey-blind. Several times something that he was sure wasan "old har, " as hares are often called in Virginia, rushed out of thebushes near him; and once he heard a quick rustling among the deadleaves that sounded as if it were made by a black snake, but it might aswell have been a Chinese pagoda on wheels, for all he could see of it. At last he became very tired, and sat down to rest with his back againsta big tree. There he soon began to nod, and, without the slightestintention of doing anything of the kind, he went to sleep just assoundly as if he had been in his bed at home. And this was not at allsurprising, considering the amount of walking and creeping that he haddone that day and night. 

When he awoke it was daylight. He sprang to his feet and found he wasvery stiff in the legs, but that did not prevent him from running thisway and that to try and find some place in the woods with which he wasfamiliar. Before long he heard what he thought was something splashingin water, and, making his way toward the sound, he pushed out on thebank of Crooked Creek. 

The creek was quite wide at this point, and out near the middle of it hesaw Tony's head. The turkey-hunter was swimming hand-overhand, "dog-fashion, " for the shore. Behind him was a boat, upside-down, whichseemed just on the point of sinking out of sight. 

"Hel-low, there!" cried Harry; "what's the matter, Tony?"

Tony never answered a word, but spluttered and puffed, and struck outslowly but vigorously for the bank. 

"Wait a minute, " cried Harry, wildly excited, "I'll reach you a pole. "

But Tony did not wait, and Harry could find no pole. When he turnedaround from his hurried search among the bushes, the turkey-hunter hadfound bottom, and was standing with his head out of water. But thebottom was soft and muddy, and he flopped about dolefully when heattempted to walk to the bank. Harry reached his gun out toward him, butTony, with a quick jerk of his arm, motioned it away. 

"I'd rather be drownded than shot, " he spluttered. "I don't want nogun-muzzles pinted at me. Take a-hold of that little tree, and thenreach me your hand. "

Harry seized a young tree that grew on the very edge of the bank, and assoon as Tony managed to flop himself near enough, Harry leaned over andtook hold of his outstretched hand and gave him a jerk forward with allhis strength. Over went Tony, splash on his face in the water, and Harrycame very near going in head-foremost on top of him. But he recoveredhimself, and, not having loosed his grip of Tony's hand, he succeeded, with a mighty effort, in dragging the turkey-hunter's head out of thewater; and, after a desperate struggle with the mud, Tony managed to geton his feet again. 

"I don't know, " said he, blowing the water out of his mouth and shakinghis dripping head, "but what I'd 'most as lieve be shot as ducked thatway. Don't you jerk so hard again. Hold steady, and let me pull. "

Harry took a still firmer grasp of the tree and "held steady, " whileTony gradually worked his feet through the sticky mud until he reachedthe bank, and then he laboriously clambered on shore. 

"How did it happen?" said Harry. "How did you get in the water?"

"Boat upsot, " said Tony, seating himself, all dripping with water andmud, upon the bank. 

"Why, you came near being drowned, " said Harry, anxiously. 

"No I didn't, " answered Tony, pulling a big bunch of weeds and rubbinghis legs with them "I kin swim well enough, but a fellar has a roughtime in the water with big boots on and his pockets full o' buck-shot. "

"Couldn't you empty the shot out?" asked Harry. 

"And lose it all?" asked Tony, with an aggrieved expression upon hiswatery face. 

"But how did it happen?" Harry earnestly inquired. "What were you doingin the boat?"

Tony did not immediately answer. He rubbed at his legs, and then hetried to wipe his face with his wet coat-sleeve, but finding that onlymade matters worse, he accepted Harry's offer of his handkerchief, andsoon got his countenance into talking order. 

"Why, you see, " said he, "I kept on up the creek till I got oppositeJohn Walker's cabin, where it's narrow, and there's a big tree a-lyin'across--"

"Still following that thing?" interrupted Harry. 

"Yes, " said Tony; "an' then I got over on the tree and kep' down thecreek--"

"Still following?" asked Harry. 

"Yes; and I got a long ways down, and had one bad tumble, too, in adirty little gully; and it was pretty nigh day when I turned to comeback. An' then when I got up here I thought I would look fur JohnWalker's boat--fur I knew he kept it tied up somewhere down thisway--and save myself all that walk. I found the ole boat--"

"And how did it upset?" said Harry. 

"Humph!" said Tony; "easy enough. I hadn't nuthin to row with but a bito' pole, and I got a sorter cross a-gettin' along so slow, and so Istood up and gin a big push, and one foot slipped, an' over she went. "

"And in you went!" said Harry. 

"Yes--in I went. I don't see what ever put John Walker up to makin'sich a boat as that. It's jist the meanest, lopsidedest, low-borndedstboat I ever did see. "

"I don't wonder you think so, " said Harry, laughing; "but if I were you, I'd go home as soon as I could, and get some dry clothes. "

"That's so, " said Tony, rising; "these feel like the inside of aneelskin. "

"Oh, Tony!" said Harry as they walked along up the creek, "did you findout what that thing was?"

"Yes, I did, " answered Tony. 

"And what was it?"

"It was Captain Caseby. "

"Captain Caseby?" cried Harry. 

"Yes; jist him, and nuthin' else. It was his head we seen agin the sky, as he was a-walkin' on the other side of that little ridge. "

"Captain Caseby!" again ejaculated Harry in his amazement. 

"Yes, sir!" said Tony; "an' I'm glad I found it out before I crossed thecreek, for my gun wasn't no further use, an' it was only in my way, so Ileft it in the bushes up here. Ef it hadn't been for that, the ole riflewould ha' been at the bottom of the creek. "

"But what was Captain Caseby doing here in the woods at night?" askedHarry. 

"Dunno, " said Tony; "I jist follered him till I made sure he wasn'ta-huntin for my turkey-blind, and then I let him go long. His businesswasn't no consarn o' mine. "

When Tony and Harry had nearly reached the village, who should theymeet, at a cross-road in the woods, but Mr. Loudon and Captain Caseby!

"Ho, ho!" cried the captain "where on earth have you been? Here I'vebeen a-hunting you all night. "

"You have, have you?" said Tony, with a chuckle; "and Harry and I'vebeen a-huntin' you all night, too. "

Everybody now began to talk at once. Harry's father was so delighted tofind his boy again, that he did not care to explain anything, and he andHarry walked off together. 

But Captain Caseby told Tony all about it. How he, Mr. Loudon, and oldMr. Wagner, had set out to look for Harry; how Mr. Wagner soon became sotired that he had to give up, and go home, and how Mr. Loudon had gonethrough the woods to the north, while he kept down by the creek, searching on both sides of the stream, and how they had both walked, andwalked, and walked all night, and had met at last down by the river. 

"How did you manage to meet Mr. Loudon?" asked Tony. 

"I heard him hollerin', " said the captain. 

"He hollered pretty near all night, he told me. "

"Why didn't you holler?" Tony asked. 

'Oh, I never exercise my voice in the night air, ' said the captain. "It's against my rules. "

"Well, you'd better break your rules next time you go out in the woodswhere Harry is, " said the turkey-hunter, "or he'll pop you over for aturkey or a musk-rat. He's a sharp shot, I kin tell ye. "

"You don't really mean he was after me last night with a gun!" exclaimedCaptain Caseby. 

"He truly was, " declared Tony; "he was a-trackin' you his Sunday best. It was bad for you that it was so dark that he couldn't see what youwas; but it might have been worse for ye if it hadn't been so dark thathe couldn't find ye at all. "

"I'm glad I didn't know it, " said the captain earnestly; "thoroughly andcompletely glad I didn't know it. I should have yelled all the skin offmy throat, if I'd have known he was after me with a gun. "

After Harry had been home an hour or two, and Kate had somewhatrecovered from her transports of joy, and everybody in the village hadheard all about everything that had happened, and Captain Caseby haddeclared, in the bosom of his family, that he would never go out intothe woods again at night without keeping up a steady "holler, " Harryremembered that he had left his sumac-bag somewhere in the woods. Hardwork for a whole day and a night, and nothing to show for it! Rather apoor prospect for Aunt Matilda. 

CHAPTER VII. 

AUNT MATILDA'S CHRISTMAS. 

When Harry and Kate held council that afternoon, their affairs looked alittle discouraging. Kate's sumac was weighed, and it was only sevenpounds! Seven whole cents, if they took it out in trade, or five and aquarter cents, as Kate calculated, if they took cash. A woman as largeas Aunt Matilda could not be supported on that kind of an income, it wasplain enough. 

But our brave boy and girl were not discouraged. Harry went after hisbag the next day, and found it with about ten pounds of leaves in it. Then, for a week or two, he and his sister worked hard and sometimesgathered as much as twenty-five pounds of leaves in a day. But they hadtheir bad days, when there was a great deal of walking and very littlepicking. 

And then, in due course of time, school began and the sumac season wasat an end, for the leaves are not merchantable after they begin to turnred, although they are then a great deal prettier to look at. 

But then Harry went out early in the morning, and on Saturdays, and shothares and partridges, and Kate began to sell her chickens, of which shehad twenty-seven (eighteen died natural deaths, or were killed byweasels during the summer), they found that they made more money thanthey could have made by sumac gathering. 

"It's a good deal for you two to do for that old woman, " said CaptainCaseby, one day. 

"But, didn't we promise to do it?" said Miss Kate, bravely. "We'd dotwice as much, if there were two of her. "

It was very fortunate, however, that there were not two of her. 

Sometimes they had extraordinary luck. Early one November morning Harrywas out in the woods and caught sight of a fat wild-turkey. 

Bang!--one dollar. 

That was enough to keep Aunt Matilda for a week. 

At least it ought to have kept her. But there was something wrongsomewhere. Every week it cost more and more to keep the old coloredwoman in what Harry called "eating material. "

"Her appetite must be increasing, " said Harry; "she's eaten two pecks ofmeal this week. "

"I don't believe it, " said Kate; "she couldn't do it. I believe she hascompany. "

And this turned out to be true. 

On inquiry they found that Uncle Braddock was in the habit of taking hismeals with Aunt Matilda, sometimes three times a day. Now, UncleBraddock had a home of his own, where he could get his meals if he choseto go after them, and Harry remonstrated with him on his conduct. 

"Why, ye see, Mah'sr Harry, " said the old man, "she's so dreffullonesome down dar all by sheself, and sometimes it's a-rainin' an' along way fur me to go home and git me wrapper all wet jist fur onelittle meal o' wittles. And when I see what you all is a-doin' fur her, I feels dat I oughter try and do somethin' fur her, too, as long as Ikin; an' I can't expect to go about much longer, Mah'sr Harry; de olewrapper's pretty nigh gin out. "

"I don't mind your taking your meals there, now and then, " said Harry;"but I don't want you to live there. We can't afford it. "

"All right, Mah'sr Harry, " said Uncle Braddock, and after that he nevercame to Aunt Matilda's to meals more than five or six times a week. 

And now Christmas, always a great holiday with the negroes of the South, was approaching, and Harry and Kate determined to try and give AuntMatilda extra good living during Christmas week, and to let her havecompany every day if she wanted it. 

Harry had a pig. He got it in the spring when it was very small, andwhen its little tail was scarcely long enough to curl. There was a storyabout his getting this pig. 

He and some other boys had been out walking, and several dogs went alongwith them. The dogs chased a cat--a beautiful, smooth cat, thatbelonged to old Mr. Truly Matthews. The cat put off at the top of herspeed, which was a good deal better than any speed the dogs could show, and darted up a tree right in front of her master's house. The dogssurrounded the tree and barked as if they expected to bark the treedown. One little fuzzy dog, with short legs and hair all over his eyes, actually jumped into a low crotch, and the boys thought he was going totry to climb the tree. If he had ever reached the cat he would have beenvery sorry he had not stayed at home, for she was a good deal biggerthan he was. Harry and his friends endeavored to drive the dogs awayfrom the tree, but it was of no use. Even kicks and blows only made thembark the more. Directly out rushed Mr. Truly Matthews, as angry as hecould be. He shouted and scolded at the boys for setting their dogs onhis cat, and then he kicked the dogs out of his yard in less time thanyou could count seventy-two. He was very angry, indeed, and talked aboutthe shocking conduct of the boys to everybody in the village. He wouldlisten to no explanations or excuses. 

Harry was extremely sorry that Mr. Matthews was so incensed against him, especially as he knew there was no cause for it, and he was talkingabout it to Kate one day, when she exclaimed:

"I'll tell you what will be sure to pacify Mr. Matthews, Harry. He hasa lot of little pigs that he wants to sell. Just you go and buy one ofthem, and see if he isn't as good-natured as ever, when he sees yourmoney. "

Harry took the advice. He had a couple of dollars, and with them hebought a little pig, the smallest of the lot; and Mr. Matthews, who wasvery much afraid he could not find purchasers for all his pigs, was ascompletely pacified as Kate thought he would be. 

Harry took his property home, and all through the summer and fall thelittle pig ran about the yard and the fields and the woods, and ateacorns--and sweet potatoes and turnips when he could get a chance toroot them up with his funny little twitchy nose--and grunted and sleptin the sun; and about the middle of December he had grown so big thatHarry sold him for eleven dollars. Here was quite a capital forChristmas. 

"I can't afford to spend it all on Aunt Matilda, " said Harry to hismother and Kate, "for I have other things to do with my money. But she'sbound to have a good Christmas, and we'll make her a present besides. "

Kate was delighted with his idea, and immediately began to suggest allsorts of things for the present. If Harry chose to buy anything that shecould "make up, " she would go right to work at it. But Harry could notthink of anything that would suit exactly, and neither could Kate, northeir mother; and when Mr. Loudon was taken into council, atdinner-time, he could suggest nothing but an army blanket--whichsuggestion met with no favor at all. 

At last Mr. Loudon advised that they should ask Aunt Matilda what shewould like to have for a present. 

"There's no better way of suiting her than that, " said he. 

So Harry and Kate went down to the old woman's cabin that afternoon, after school, and asked her. 

Aunt Matilda did not hesitate an instant. 

"Ef you chil'en is really a-goin' to give me a present, there ain'tnothin' I'd rather have than a Chrismis tree. "

"A Christmas tree!" cried Harry and Kate both bursting out laughing. 

"Yes, indeed, chil'en. Ef ye give me anything, give me a good big fieryChrismis tree like you all had, year 'fore las'. "

Two years before, Harry and Kate had had their last Christmas tree. There were no younger children, and these two were now considered tohave outgrown that method of celebrating Christmas. But they had missedtheir tree last year--missed it very much. 

And now Aunt Matilda wanted one. It was the very thing!

"Hurrah!" cried Harry; "you shall have it. Hurrah for Aunt Matilda'sChristmas tree!"

"Hurrah!" cried Kate; "won't it be splendid? Hurrah!"

"Hurrah!" said Uncle Braddock, who was just coming up to the cabin door, but he did not shout very loud, and nobody heard him. 

"Hurrah! I wonder what dey's all hurrahin' about?" he said to himself. 

Harry and Kate had started off to run home with the news, but AuntMatilda told the old man all about it, and when he heard there was to bea Christmas tree, he was just as glad as anybody. 

When it became generally known that Aunt Matilda was to have a Christmastree, the people of the neighborhood took a great interest in thematter. John Walker and Dick Ford, two colored men of the vicinity, volunteered to get the tree. But when they went out into the woods tocut it, eighteen other colored people, big and little, followed them, some to help and some to give advice. 

A very fine tree was selected. It was a pine, ten feet high, and whenthey brought it into Aunt Matilda's cabin, they could not stand itupright, for her ceiling was rather low. 

When Harry and Kate came home from school they were rather surprised tosee so big a tree, but it was such a fine one that they thought theymust have it. After some consideration it was determined to erect it ina deserted cabin, near by, which had no upper floor, and was high enoughto allow the tree to stand up satisfactorily. This was, indeed, anexcellent arrangement, for it was better to keep the decoration of theChristmas tree a secret from Aunt Matilda until all was completed. 

The next day was a holiday, and Harry and Kate went earnestly to work. Ahole was dug in the clay floor of the old cabin, and the tree plantedfirmly therein. It was very firm, indeed, for a little colored boy namedJosephine's Bobby climbed nearly to the topmost branch, without shakingit very much. For four or five days the work of decorating the tree wenton. Everybody talked about it, a great many laughed at it, and nearlyeverybody seemed inclined to give something to hang upon its branches. Kate brought a large box containing the decorations of her lastChristmas tree, and she and Harry hung sparkling balls, and goldenstars, and silver fishes, and red and blue paper angels, and candyswans, and sugar pears, and glittering things of all sorts, shapes, andsizes upon the boughs. Harry had a step-ladder, and Dick Ford and fivecolored boys held it firmly while he stood on it and tied on theornaments. Very soon the neighbors began to send in their contributions. Mrs. Loudon gave a stout woollen dress, which was draped over a lowerbranch; while Mr. Loudon, who was not to be diverted from his originalidea, sent an army blanket, which Kate arranged around the root of thetree, so as to look as much as possible like gray moss. Mr. Darby, whokept the store, sent a large paper bag of sugar and a small bag of tea, which were carefully hung on lower branches. Miss Jane Davis thought sheought to do something, and she contributed a peck of sweet potatoes, which, each tied to a string, were soon dangling from the branches. ThenMr. Truly Matthews, who did not wish to be behind his neighbors ingenerosity, sent a shoulder of bacon, which looked quite magnificent asit hung about the middle of the tree. Other people sent bars of soap, bags of meal, packages of smoking-tobacco, and flannel petticoats. Apair of shoes was contributed, and several pairs of stockings, whichlatter were filled with apples and hickory-nuts by the considerate Kate. Several of the school children gave sticks of candy; and old Mrs. SarahPage, who had nothing else to spare, brought a jug of molasses, whichwas suspended near the top of the tree. Kate did not fancy theappearance of the jug, and she wreathed it with strings of glitteringglass balls; and the shoulder of bacon she stuck full of red berries andholly-leaves. Harry contributed a bright red handkerchief for AuntMatilda's head, and Kate gave a shawl which was yellower than asunflower, if such a thing could be. And Harry bore the general expensesof the "extras, " which were not trifling. 

When Christmas eve arrived everybody came to see Aunt Matilda'sChristmas tree. Kate and Harry were inside superintending the finalarrangements, and about fifty or sixty persons, colored and white, weregathered around the closed door of the old cabin. When all was readyAunt Matilda made her appearance, supported on either side by Dick Fordand John Walker, while Uncle Braddock, in his many-coloreddressing-gown, followed close behind. Then the door was opened, and AuntMatilda entered, followed by as many of the crowd as could get in. Itwas certainly a scene of splendor. A wood fire blazed in the fireplaceat one end of the cabin, while dozens of tallow candles lighted up thetree. The gold and silver stars glistened, the many-colored glass ballsshone among the green pine boughs; the shoulder of bacon glowed like abed of flowers, while the jug of molasses hung calm and serene, surrounded by its glittering beads. A universal buzz of approbation anddelight arose. No one had ever seen such a Christmas tree before. Everybough and every branch bore something useful as well as ornamental. 

As for Aunt Matilda, for several moments she remained speechless withdelight. At last she exclaimed:

"Laws-a-massey! It's wuth while being good for ninety-five years to gitsuch a tree at las'. "

CHAPTER VIII. 

A LIVELY TEAM. 

"I want you to understand, Harry, " said Mr. Loudon, one day, "that I donot disapprove of what you and Kate are doing for old Aunt Matilda. Onthe contrary, I feel proud of you both. The idea was honorable to you, and, so far, you have done very well; better than I expected; and Ibelieve I was a little more sanguine than any one else in the village. But you must not forget that you have something else to think of besidesmaking money for Aunt Matilda. "

"But, don't I think of other things, father?" said Harry. "I'm sure Iget along well enough at school. "

"That may be, my boy; but I want you to get along better than wellenough. "

This little conversation made quite an impression on Harry, and hetalked to Kate about it. 

"I suppose father's right, " said she; "but what's to be done about it?Is that poor old woman to have only half enough to eat, so that you mayread twice as much Virgil?"

Harry laughed. 

"But perhaps she will have five-eighths of enough to eat if I only readnine-sixteenths as much Latin, " said he. 

"Oh! you're always poking arithmetic fun at me, " said Kate. "But I tellyou what you can do, " she continued. "You can get up half an hourearlier, every morning, and that will give you a good deal of extra timeto think about your lessons. "

"I can _think_ about them in bed, " said Harry. 

"Humph!" said Kate; and she went on with her work. She was knitting a"tidy, " worth two pounds of sugar, or half a pound of tea, when itshould be finished. 

Harry did not get up any earlier; for, as he expressed it, "It wasdreadfully cold before breakfast, " on those January mornings; but hisfather and mother noticed that the subject of Aunt Matilda's maintenancedid not so entirely engross the conversation of the brother and sisterin the evenings; and they had their heads together almost as often overslate and schoolbooks as over the little account-book in which Kate putdown receipts and expenditures. 

On a Thursday night, about the middle of January, there was a fall ofsnow. Not a very heavy fall; the snow might have been deeper, but it wasdeep enough for sledding. On the Friday, Harry, in connection withanother boy, Tom Selden, several years older than himself, concocted agrand scheme. They would haul wood, on a sled, all day Saturday. 

It was not to be any trifling little "boy-play" wood-hauling. Harry'sfather owned a woodsled--one of the very few sleds or sleighs in thecounty--which was quite an imposing affair, as to size, at least. Itwas about eight feet long and four feet wide; and although it was roughenough, --being made of heavy boards, nailed transversely upon a coupleof solid runners, with upright poles to keep the load in its place--itwas a very good sled, as far as it went, which had not been very far oflate; for there had been no good sledding for several seasons. Old Mr. Truly Matthews had a large pile of wood cut in a forest about a mile anda half from the village, and the boys knew that he wanted it hauled tothe house, and that, by a good day's work, considerable money could bemade. 

All the arrangements were concluded on Friday, which was a half-holiday, on account of the snow making travelling unpleasant for those scholarswho lived at a distance. Harry's father gave his consent to the plan, and loaned his sled. Three negro men agreed to help for one-fourth ofthe profits. Tom Selden went into the affair, heart and hand, agreeingto take his share out in fun. What money was made, after payingexpenses, was to go into the Aunt Matilda Fund, which was tolerably lowabout that time. 

Kate gave her earnest sanction to the scheme, which was quitedisinterested on her part, for, being a girl, she could not very well goon a wood-hauling expedition, and she could expect to do little else butstay at home and calculate the probable profits of the trips. 

The only difficulty was to procure a team; and nothing less than afour-horse team would satisfy the boys. 

Mr. Loudon lent one horse, old Selim, a big brown fellow, who was verygood at pulling when he felt in the humor. Tom could bring no horse; forhis father did not care to lend his horses for such a purpose. He wasafraid they might get their legs broken; and, strange as it seemed tothe boys, most of the neighbors appeared to have similar notions. Horseswere very hard to borrow that Friday afternoon. But a negro man, namedIsaac Waddell, agreed to hire them his horse Hector, for fifty cents forthe day; and the storekeeper, after much persuasion, lent a big graymule, Grits by name. There was another mule in the village, which theboys could have if they wanted her; but they did not want her--that is, if they could get anything else with four legs that would do to go intheir team. This was Polly, a little mule, belonging to Mrs. Dabney, whokept the post-office. Polly was not only very little in size, but shewas also very little given to going. She did not particularly object toa walk, if it were not too long, and would pull a buggy or carry a manwith great complacency, but she seldom indulged in trotting. It was ofno use to whip her. Her skin was so thick, or so destitute of feeling, that she did not seem to take any notice of a good hard crack. Polly wasnot a favorite, but she doubtless had her merits, although no one knewexactly what they were. Perhaps the best thing that could be said abouther was, that she did not take up much room. 

But, on Saturday, it was evident that Polly would have to be taken, forno animal could be obtained in her place. 

So, soon after breakfast, the team was collected in Mr. Loudon'sback-yard, and harnessed to the sled. Besides the three negroes who hadbeen hired, there were seven volunteers--some big and some little--whowere very willing to work for nothing, if they might have a ride on thesled. The harness was not the best in the world; some of it was leather, and some was rope and some was chain. It was gathered together fromvarious quarters, like the team--nobody seemed anxious to lend goodharness. 

Grits and thin Hector were the leaders, and Polly and old Selim were thepole-horses, so to speak. 

When all the straps were buckled, and the chains hooked, and the knotstied (and this took a good while as there were only twelve men and boysto do it), Dick Ford jumped on old Selim, little Johnny Sand, as blackas ink, was hoisted on Grits, and Gregory Montague, a tall yellow boy, with high boots and no toes to them, bestrode thin Hector. Harry, Tom, and nine negroes (two more had just come into the yard) jumped on thesled. Dick Ford cracked his whip; Kate stood on the back-door step andclapped her hands; all the darkies shouted; Tom and Harry hurrahed; andaway they did not go. 

Polly was not ready. 

And what was more, old brown Selim was perfectly willing to wait forher. He looked around mildly at the little mule, as if he would say:"Now, don't be in a hurry, my good Polly. Be sure you're right beforeyou go ahead. "

Polly was quite sure she was not right, and stood as stiffly as if shehad been frozen to the ground, and all the cracking of whips andshouting of "Git up!" "Go 'long!" "What do you mean, dar? you Polly!"made no impression on her. 

Then Harry made his voice heard above the hubbub. 

"Never mind Polly!" he shouted. "Let her alone. Dick, and you otherfellows, just start off your own horses. Now, then! Get up, all of you!"

At this, every rider whipped up his horse or his mule, and spurred himwith his heels, and every darkey shouted, "Hi, dar!" and off they went, rattledy-bang!

Polly went, too. There was never such an astonished little mule in thisworld! Out of the gate they all whirled at full gallop, and up the road, tearing along. Negroes shouting, chains rattling, snow flying back fromsixteen pounding hoofs, sled cutting through the snow like a ship atsea, and a little darkey shooting out behind at every bounce over arough place!

"Hurrah!" cried Harry, holding tight to an upright pole. "Isn't thissplendid!"

"Splendid! It's glorious!" shouted Tom. "It's better than being a pi--"And down he went on his knees, as the big sled banged over a stone inthe road, and Josephine's Bobby was bounced out into a snow-drift undera fence. 

Whether Tom intended to say a pirate or a pyrotechnic, was neverdiscovered; but, in six minutes, there was only one of the small darkiesleft on the sled. The men, and this one, John William Webster, hung onto the poles as if they were glued there. 

As for Polly, she was carried along faster than she ever went before inher life. She jumped, she skipped, she galloped, she slid, she skated;sometimes sitting down, and sometimes on her feet, but flying along, allthe same, no matter how she chose to go. 

And so, rattling, shouting, banging, bouncing; snow flying and whipscracking, on they sped, until John William Webster's pole came out, andclip! he went heels over head into the snow. 

But John William had a soul above tumbles. In an instant he jerkedhimself up to his feet, dropped the pole, and dashed after the sled. 

Swiftly onward went the sled and right behind came John William, hislegs working like steamboat wheels, his white teeth shining, and his bigeyes sparkling!

There was no stopping the sled; but there was no stopping John William, either, and in less than two minutes he reached the sled, grabbed a manby the leg, and tugged and pulled until he seated himself on the endboard. 

"I tole yer so!" said he, when he got his breath. And yet he hadn't toldanybody anything. 

And now the woods were reached, and after a deal of pulling andshouting, the team was brought to a halt, and then slowly led through ashort road to where the wood was piled. 

The big mule and the horses steamed and puffed a little, but Polly stoodas calm as a rocking-horse. 

Notwithstanding the rapidity of the drive, it was late when the partyreached the woods. The gathering together and harnessing of the team hadtaken much longer than they expected; and so the boys set to work with awill to load the sled; for they wanted to make two trips that morning. But although they all, black and white, worked hard, it was slowbusiness. Some of the wood was cut and split properly, and some was not, and then the sled had to be turned around, and there was but little roomto do it in, and so a good deal of time was lost. 

But at last the sled was loaded up, and they were nearly ready to start, when John William Webster, who had run out to the main road, set up ashout:

"Oh! Mah'sr Harry! Mah'sr Tom!"

Harry and Tom ran out to the road, and stood there petrified withastonishment. 

Where was the snow?

It was all gone, excepting a little here and there in the shade of thefence corners. The day had turned out to be quite mild, and the sun, which was now nearly at its noon height, had melted it all away. 

Here was a most unlooked-for state of affairs! What was to be done? Theboys ran back to the sled, and the colored men ran out to the road, andeverybody talked and nobody seemed to say anything of use. 

At last Dick Ford spoke up:

"I tell ye what, Mah'sr Harry! I say, just let's go 'long, " said he. 

"But how are you going to do it?" said Harry. "There's no snow. "

"I know that; but de mud's jist as slippery as grease. That thar teamkin pull it, easy 'nuff!"

Harry and Tom consulted together, and agreed to drive out to the roadand try what could be done, and then, if the loaded sled was too muchfor the team, they would throw off the wood and go home with the emptysled. 

There was snow enough until they reached the road--for very little hadmelted in the woods--and when they got fairly out on the main road theteam did not seem to mind the change from snow to thin mud. 

The load was not a very heavy one, and there were two horses and twomules--a pretty strong team. 

Polly did very well. She was now harnessed with Grits in the lead; andshe pulled along bravely. But it was slow work, compared to the livelyride over the snow. The boys and the men trudged through the mud, by theside of the sled, and, looking at it in the best possible light, it wasa very dull way to haul wood. The boys agreed that after this trip theywould be very careful not to go on another mud-sledding expedition. 

But soon they came to a long hill, and, going down this, the team beganto trot, and Harry and Tom and one or two of the men jumped on the edgesof the sled, outside of the load, holding on to the poles. Then Grits, the big mule, began to run, and Gregory couldn't hold him in, and oldSelim and thin Hector and little Polly all struck out on a gallop, andaway they went, bumping and thumping down the hill. 

And then stick after stick, two sticks, six sticks, a dozen sticks at atime, slipped out behind. 

It was of no use to catch at them to hold them on. They were notfastened down in any way, and Harry and Tom and the men on the sled hadas much as they could do to hold themselves on. 

When they reached the bottom of the hill the pulling became harder; butGrits had no idea of stopping for that. He was bound for home. And so heplunged on at the top of his speed. But the rest of the team did notfancy going so fast on level ground, and they slackened their pace. 

This did not suit Grits. He gave one tremendous bound, burst loose fromhis harness and dashed ahead. Up went his hind legs in the air; off shotGregory Montague into the mud, and then away went Grits, clipperty-clap!home to his stable. 

When Harry and Tom, the two horses, the little mule, the eight coloredmen, the sled, John William Webster and eleven logs of wood reached thevillage it was considerably after dinner-time. 

When the horse-hire was paid, and something was expended for mendingborrowed harness, and the negroes had received a little present fortheir labor, the Aunt Matilda Fund was diminished by the sum of threedollars and eighty cents. 

Mr. Truly Matthews agreed to say nothing about the loss of his wood thatwas scattered along the road. 

CHAPTER IX. 

BUSINESS IN EARNEST. 

Although Harry did not find his wood-hauling speculation veryprofitable, it was really of advantage to him, for it gave him an idea. 

And his idea was a very good one. He saw clearly enough that money couldbe made by hauling wood, and he was also quite certain that it wouldnever do for him to take his time, especially during school term, forthat purpose. So, after consultation with his father, and after a greatdeal of figuring by Kate, he determined to go into the business in aregular way. 

About five miles from the village was a railroad station, and it wasalso a wood station. Here the railroad company paid two dollars a cordfor wood delivered on their grounds. 

Two miles from the station, on the other side of Crooked Creek, Harry'sfather owned a large tract of forest land, and here Harry receivedpermission to cut and take away all the wood that he wanted. Mr. Loudonwas perfectly willing, in this way, to help his children in their goodwork. 

So Harry made arrangements with Dick Ford and John Walker, who were notregularly hired to any one that winter, to cut and haul his wood forhim, on shares. John Walker had a wagon, which was merely a set ofwheels, with a board floor laid on the axletrees, and the use of this hecontributed in consideration of a little larger share in the profits. Harry hired Grits and another mule at a low rate, as there was not muchfor mules to do at that time of the year. 

The men were to cut up and deliver the wood and get receipts for it fromthe station-master; and it was to be Harry's business to collect themoney at stated times, and divide the proceeds according to the rateagreed upon. Harry and his father made the necessary arrangements withthe station-master, and thus all the preliminaries were settled quitesatisfactorily. 

In a few days the negroes were at work, and as they both lived but ashort distance from the creek, on the village side, it was quiteconvenient for them. John Walker had a stable in which to keep themules, and the cost of their feed was also to be added to his share ofthe profits. 

In a short time Harry had quite a number of applications from negroeswho wished to cut wood for him, but he declined to hire any additionalforce until he saw how his speculation would turn out. 

Old Uncle Braddock pleaded hard to be employed. He could not cut wood, nor could he drive a team, but he was sure he would be of great use asoverseer. 

"You see, Mah'sr Harry, " he said, "I lib right on de outside edge obyou' pa's woods, and I kin go ober dar jist as easy as nuffin, earlyevery mornin', and see dat dem boys does dere work, and don't chop downde wrong trees. Mind now, I tell ye, you all will make a pile o' moneyef ye jist hire me to obersee dem boys. "

For some time Harry resisted his entreaties, but at last, principally onaccount of Kate's argument that the old man ought to be encouraged inmaking something toward his living, if he were able and willing to doso, Harry hired him on his own terms, which were ten cents a day. 

About four o'clock every afternoon during his engagement, Uncle Braddockmade his appearance in the village, to demand his ten cents. When Harryremonstrated with him on his quitting work so early, he said:

"Why, you see, Mah'sr Harry, it's a long way from dem woods here, and Igot to go all de way back home agin; and it gits dark mighty early deseshort days. "

In about a week the old man came to Hurry and declared that he mustthrow up his engagement. 

"What's the matter?" asked Harry. 

"I'm gwine to gib up dat job, Mah'sr Harry. "

"But why? You wanted it bad enough, " said Harry. 

"But I'm gwine to gib it up now, " said the old man. 

"Well, I want you to tell me your reasons for giving it up, " persistedHarry. 

Uncle Braddock stood silent for a few minutes, and then he said:

"Well, Mah'sr Harry, dis is jist de truf; dem ar boys, dey ses to me datef I come foolin' around dere any more, dey'd jist chop me up, olewrapper an' all, and haul me off fur kindlin' wood. Dey say I was dryenough. An' dey needn't a made sich a fuss about it, fur I didn'ttrouble 'em much; hardly eber went nigh 'em. Ten cents' worf o'oberseein' aint a-gwine to hurt nobody. "

"Well, Uncle Braddock, " said Harry, laughing, "I think you're wise togive it up. "

"Dat's so, " said the old negro, and away he trudged to Aunt Matilda'scabin, where, no doubt, he ate a very good ten cents' worth of corn-mealand bacon. 

This wood enterprise of Harry's worked pretty well on the whole. Sometimes the men cut and hauled quite steadily, and sometimes they didnot. Once every two weeks Harry rode over to the station, and collectedwhat was due him; and his share of the profits kept Aunt Matilda quitecomfortably. 

But, although Kate was debarred from any share in this business, sheworked every day at her tidies for the store, and knit stockings, besides, for some of the neighbors, who furnished the yarn and paid hera fair price. There were people who thought Mrs. Loudon did wrong inallowing her daughter to work for money in this way, but Kate's mothersaid that the end justified the work, and that so long as Katepersevered in her self-appointed tasks, she should not interfere. 

As for Kate, she said she should work on, no matter how much money Harrymade. There was no knowing what might happen. 

But the most important of Kate's duties was the personal attention shepaid to Aunt Matilda. She went over to the old woman's cabin every dayor two, and saw that she was kept warm and had what she needed. 

And these visits had a good influence on the old woman, for her cabinsoon began to look much neater, now that a nice little girl came to seeher so often. 

When the spring came on, Aunt Matilda actually took it into her head towhitewash her cabin, a thing she had not done for years. She and UncleBraddock worked at it by turns. The old woman was too stiff andrheumatic to keep at such work long at a time; but she was very proud ofher whitewashing; and when she was tired of working at the inside of hercabin, she used to go out and whitewash the trunks of the trees aroundthe house. She had seen trees thus ornamented, and she thought they wereperfectly beautiful. 

Kate was violently opposed to anything of this kind, and, at last, toldAunt Matilda that if she persisted in surrounding her house with whatlooked like a forest of tombstones, she, Kate, would have to stop comingthere. 

So Aunt Matilda, in a manner, desisted. 

But one day she noticed a little birch-tree, some distance from thehouse, and the inclination to whitewash that little birch was too strongto be resisted. 

"He's so near white, anyway, " she said to herself, "dat it's a pity notto finish him. "

So off she hobbled with a tin cup full of whitewash and a small brush toadorn the little birch-tree, leaving her cabin in the charge of HollyThomas. 

Holly, whose whole name was Hollywood Cemetery Thomas, was a littleblack girl, between two and five years old. Sometimes she seemed nearlyfive, and sometimes not more than two. Her parents intended christeningher Minerva, but hearing the name of the well-known Hollywood Cemeteryin Richmond, they thought it so pretty that they gave it to their littledaughter, without the slightest idea, however, that it was the name of agrave-yard. 

Holly had come over to pay a morning visit to Aunt Matilda, and she hadbrought her only child, a wooden doll, which she was trying to teach towalk, by dragging it head foremost by a long string tied around itsneck. 

"Now den, you Holly, you stay h'yar and mind de house while I's gone, "said Aunt Matilda, as she departed. 

"All yite, " said the little darkey, and she sat down on the floor toprepare her child for a coat of whitewash; but she had not yet succeededin convincing the doll of the importance of the operation when herattention was aroused by a dog just outside of the door. 

It was Kate's little woolly white dog, Blinks, who often used to come tothe cabin with her, and who sometimes, when he got a chance to run away, used to come alone, as he did this morning. 

"Go 'way dar, litty dog, " said Miss Holly, "yer can't come in; dere'snobody home. Yun 'long, now, d'yer y'ear!"

But Blinks either did not hear or did not care, for he stuck his head inat the door. 

"Go 'way, dere!" shouted Holly. "Aunt Tillum ain't home. Go 'way now, and tum bat in half an hour. Aunt Tillum'll be bat den. Don't yer hearnow, go _'way_!"

But, instead of going away, Blinks trotted in, as bold as a four-poundlion. 

"Go 'way, go 'way!" screamed Holly, squeezing herself up against thewall in her terror, and then Blinks barked at her. He had never seen alittle black girl behave so, in the whole course of his life, and it wasquite right in him to bark and let her know what he thought of herconduct. Then Holly, in her fright, dropped her doll, and when Blinksapproached to examine it, she screamed louder and louder, and Blinksbarked more and more, and there was quite a hubbub. In the midst of it aman put his head in at the door of the cabin. 

He was a tall man, with red hair, and a red freckled face, and a redbristling moustache, and big red hands. 

"What's all this noise about?" said he; and when he saw what it was, hecame in. 

"Get out of this, you little beast!" said he to Blinks, and putting thetoe of his boot under the little dog, he kicked him clear out of thedoor of the cabin. Then turning to Holly, he looked at her pretty muchas if he intended to kick her out too. But he didn't. He put out one ofhis big red hands and said to her:

"Shake hands. "

Holly obeyed without a word, and then snatching her wooden child fromthe floor, she darted out of the door and reached the village almost assoon as poor Blinks. 

In a minute or two Aunt Matilda made her appearance at the door. She hadheard the barking and the screaming, and had come to see what was thematter. 

When she saw the man, she exclaimed:

"Why, Mah'sr George! Is dat you?"

"Yes, it's me, " said the man. "Shake hands, Aunt Matilda. "

"I thought you was down in Mississippi; Mah'sr George, " said the oldwoman; "and I thought you was gwine to stay dar. "

"Couldn't do it, " said the man. "It didn't suit me, down there. Fiveyears of it was enough for me. "

"Enough fur dem, too, p'r'aps!" said Aunt Matilda, with a grim chuckle. 

The man took no notice of her remark, but said:

"I didn't intend to stop here, but I heard such a barking and screamingin your cabin, that I turned out of my way to see what the row wasabout. I've just come up from the railroad. Does old Michaels keep storehere yet?"

"No, he don't, " said Aunt Matilda; "he's dead. Mah'sr Darby keeps darnow. "

"Is that so?" cried the man. "Why, it was on old Michaels's account thatI was sneakin' around the village. Why, I'm mighty glad I stopped here. It makes things different if old Michaels isn't about. "

"Well, ye might as well go 'long, " said Aunt Matilda, who seemed to begetting into a bad humor. "There's others who knows jist as much aboutyer bad doin's as Mah'sr Michaels did. "

"I suppose you mean that meddling humbug, John Loudon, " said the man. 

"Now, look h'yar, you George Mason?" cried Aunt Matilda, making one longstep toward the whitewash bucket; "jist you git out o' dat dar door!"and she seized the whitewash brush and gave it a terrific swash in thebucket. 

The man looked at her--he knew her of old--and then he left the cabinalmost as quickly as Blinks and Holly went out of it. 

"Ef it hadn't been fur dat little dog, " said Aunt Matilda, grimly, "he'da gone on. Them little dogs is always a-doin' mischief. "

CHAPTER X. 

A MEETING ON THE ROAD. 

Some weeks before the little affair between Blinks and Holly, related inour last chapter, Harry and Kate took a ride over to the railroadstation. 

During the winter Harry had frequently gone over on horseback to attendto the payments for his wood; and now that the roads were in fitcondition for carriage travel, he was glad to have an opportunity totake the buggy and give Kate a ride. 

For some days previously, Crooked Creek had been "up;" that is, thespring rains had caused it to overflow, and all travel across it hadbeen suspended. The bridges on such occasions--and Crooked Creek had abad habit of being "up" several times in the course of a year--werecovered, and the lowlands were under water for a considerable distanceon each side of the stream. There were so few boats on the creek, andthe current, in time of freshets, was so strong, that ferriage wasseldom thought of. In consequence of this state of affairs Harry had notheard from his wood-cutters for more than a week, as they had not beenable to cross the creek to their homes. It was, therefore, as much tosee how they were getting along as to attend to financial matters thathe took this trip. 

It was a fine, bright day in very early spring, and old Selim trotted onquite gayly. Before very long they overtook Miles Jackson, jogging alongon a little bay horse. 

Miles was a black man, very sober and sedate who for years had carriedthe mail twice a week from a station farther up the railroad to thevillage. But he was not a mail-carrier now. His employer, a white man, who had the contract for carrying the mails, had also gone into anotherbusiness which involved letter-carrying. 

A few miles back from the village of Akeville, where the Loudons lived, was a mica mine, which had recently been bought, and was now worked by acompany from the North. This mica (the semi-transparent substance thatis set into stove doors) proved to be very plentiful and valuable, andthe company had a great deal of business on their hands. It wasfrequently necessary to send messages and letters to the North, andthese were always carried over to the station on the other side ofCrooked Creek, where there was a daily mail and a telegraph office. Thecontract to carry these letters and messages to and from the mines hadbeen given to Miles's employer, and the steady negro man had been takenoff the mail-route to attend to this new business. 

"Well, Miles, " said Harry, as he overtook him. "How do you like ridingon this road?"

"How d' y', Mah'sr Harry? How d' y', Miss Kate?" said the colored man, touching his hat and riding up on the side of the road to let them pass. "I do' know how I likes it yit, Mah'sr Harry. Don't seem 'xactly nat'ralafter ridin' de oder road so long!"

"You have a pretty big letter-bag there, " said Harry. 

"Dat's so, " said Miles; "but 'taint dis big ebery day. Sence de creek'sbeen up I haint been able to git across, and dere's piles o' letters togo ober to-day. "

"It must make it rather bad for the company when the creek rises in thisway, " said Harry. 

"Dat's so, " answered Miles. "Dey gits in a heap o' trubble when deycan't send dere letters and git 'em. Though 'taint so many letters deysends as telegraphs. "

"It's a pity they couldn't have had their mine on the other side, "remarked Kate. 

"Dat's so, Miss Kate, " said Miles, gravely. "I reckon dey didn't knowabout de creek's gittin' up so often, or dey'd dug dere mine on de oderside. "

Harry and Kate laughed and drove on. 

They soon reached Mr. Loudon's woods, but found no wood-cutters. 

When they arrived at the station they saw Dick Ford and John Walker onthe store-porch. 

Harry soon discovered that no wood had been cut for several days, because the creek was up. 

"What had that to do with it?" asked Harry. 

"Why, you see, Mah'sr Harry, " said John Walker, "de creek was mightyhigh, and dere was no knowin' how things ud turn out. So we thought we'djist wait and see. "

"So you've been here all the time?"

"Yes, sir; been h'yar all de time. Couldn't go home, you know. "

Harry was very sorry to hear of this lost time, for he knew that hiswood-cutting would come to an end as soon as the season was sufficientlyadvanced to give the men an opportunity of hiring themselves forfarm-work; but it was of no use to talk any more about it; and so, afterdepositing Kate at the post-office, where the post-mistress, who knewher well, gave her a nice little "snack" of buttermilk, cold friedchicken, and "light-bread, " he went to the station and transacted hisbusiness. He had not been there for some weeks, and he found quite asatisfactory sum of money due him, in spite of the holiday his men hadtaken. He then arranged with Dick and John to work on for a week or twolonger--if "nothing happened;" and after attending to some commissionsfor the family, he and Kate set out for home. 

But nothing they had done that day was of so much importance as theirmeeting with Miles tuned out to be. 

CHAPTER XI. 

ROB. 

Blinks was not the only dog on the Loudon place. There was another one, a much larger fellow, named Rob. 

Rob was a big puppy, in the first place, and then he grew up to be atall, long-legged dog, who was not only very fond of Harry and Kate, butof almost everybody else. In time he filled out and became rather moreshapely, but he was always an ungainly dog--"too big for his size, " asHarry put it. 

It was supposed that Rob was partly bloodhound, but how much of him wasbloodhound it would have been very difficult so say. Kate thought it wasonly his ears. They resembled the ears of a picture of a beautifulAfrican bloodhound that she had in a book. At all events Rob showed nosigns of any fighting ancestry. He was as gentle as a calf. Even Blinkswas a better watch-dog. But then, Rob was only a year old, and he mightimprove in time. 

But, in spite of his general inutility, Rob was a capital companion on acountry ramble. 

And so it happened, one bright day toward the close of April, that heand Harry and Kate went out together into the woods, beyond AuntMatilda's cabin. Kate's objects in taking the walk were wild flowers andgeneral spring investigations into the condition of the woods; but Harryhad an eye to business, although to hear him talk you would havesupposed that he thought as much about ferns and flowers as Kate did. 

Harry had an idea that it might possibly be a good thing to hire negroesthat year to pick sumac for him. He was not certain that he could makeit pay, but it was on his mind to such a degree that he took a greatinterest in the sumac-bushes, and hunted about the edges of the woods, where the bushes were generally found, to see what was the prospect fora large crop of leaves that year. 

They were in the woods, about a mile from Aunt Matilda's cabin, and notvery far from a road, when they separated for a short time. Harry wenton ahead, continuing his investigations, while Kate remained in a littleopen glade, where she found some flowers that she determined to dig upby the roots and transplant into her garden at home. 

While she was at work she heard a heavy step behind her, and looking up, she saw a tall man standing by her. He had red hair, a red face, a redbristling moustache, and big red hands. 

"How d'ye do?" said the man. 

Kate stood up, with the plants, which she had just succeeded in gettingout of the ground, in her apron. 

"Good morning, sir, " said she. 

The man looked at her from head to foot, and then he said, "Shakehands!" holding out his big red hand. 

But Kate did not offer to take it. 

"Didn't you hear me?" said he. "I said, 'Shake hands. '"

"I heard you, " said Kate. 

"Well, why don't you do it, then?"

Kate did not answer, and the man repeated his question. 

"Well, then, if I must tell you, " said she; "in the first place, I don'tknow you; and, then, I'd rather not shake hands with you, anyway, because your hands are so dirty. "

This might not have been very polite in Kate, but she was astraightforward girl, and the man's hands were very dirty indeed, although water was to be had in such abundance. 

"What's your name?" said the man, with his face considerably redder thanbefore. 

"Kate Loudon, " said the girl. 

"Oh, ho! Loudon, is it? Well, Kate Loudon, if my hand's too dirty toshake, you'll find it isn't too dirty to box your ears. "

Kate turned pale and shrank back against a tree. She gave a hurriedglance into the woods, and then she called out, as loudly as she could:"_Harry_!"

The man, who had made a step toward her, now stopped and looked around, as if he would like to know who Harry was, before going any further. 

Just then, Harry, who had heard Kate's call, came running up. 

When the man saw him he seemed relieved, and a curious smile stretcheditself beneath his bristling red moustache. 

"What's the matter?" cried Harry. 

"Oh, Harry!" Kate exclaimed, as she ran to him. 

"Matter?" said the man. "The matter's this: I'm going to box her ears. "

"Whose ears?"

"That girl's, " replied the red-faced man, moving toward Kate. 

"My sister! Not much!"

And Harry stepped between Kate and the man. 

The man stood and looked at him, and he looked very angrily, too. 

But Harry stood bravely before his sister. His face was flushed and hisbreath came quickly, though he was not frightened, not a whit!

And yet there was absolutely nothing that he could do. He had not hisgun with him; he had not even a stick in his hand, and a stick wouldhave been of little use against such a strong man as that, who couldhave taken Harry in his big red hands and have thrown him over thehighest fence in the county. 

But for all that, the boy stood boldly up before his sister. 

The man looked at him without a word, and then he stepped aside toward asmall dogwood-bush. 

For an instant, Harry thought that they might run away; but it was onlyfor an instant. That long-legged man could catch them before they hadgone a dozen yards--at least he could catch Kate. 

The man took out a knife and cut a long and tolerably thick switch fromthe bush. Then he cut off the smaller end and began to trim away thetwigs and leaves. 

While doing this he looked at Harry, and said:

"I think I'll take you first. "

Kate's heart almost stopped beating when she heard this, and Harryturned pale; but still the brave boy stood before his sister as stoutlyas ever. 

Kate tried to call for help, but she had no voice. What could _she_ do?A boxing on the ears was nothing, she now thought; she wished she hadnot called out, for it was evident that Harry was going to get aterrible whipping. 

She could not bear it! Her dear brother!

She trembled so much that she could not stand, and she sank down on herknees. Rob, the dog, who had been lying near by, snapping at flies, allthis time, now came up to comfort her. 

"Oh, Rob!" she whispered, "I wish you were a cross dog. "

And Rob wagged his tail and lay down by her. 

"I wonder, " she thought to herself, "oh! I wonder if any one could makehim bite. "

"Rob!" she whispered in the dog's ear, keeping her eyes fixed on theman, who had now nearly finished trimming his stick. "Rob! hiss-s-s-s!"and she patted his back. 

Rob seemed to listen very attentively. 

"Hiss-s-s!" she whispered again, her heart beating quick and hard. 

Rob now raised his head, his big body began to quiver, and the hair onhis back gradually rose on end. 

"Hiss! Rob! Rob!" whispered Kate. 

The man had shut up his knife, and was putting it in his pocket. He tookthe stick in his right hand. 

All now depended on Rob. 

"Oh! will he?" thought Kate, and then she sprang to her feet and clappedher hands. 

"Catch him, Rob!" she screamed. "Catch him!"

With a rush, Rob hurled himself full at the breast of the man, and thetall fellow went over backward, just like a ten-pin. 

Then he was up and out into the road, Rob after him!

You ought to have seen the gravel fly!

Harry and Kate ran out into the road and cheered and shouted. Away wentthe man, and away went the dog. 

Up the road, into the brush, out again, and then into a field, down ahill, nip and tuck! At Tom Riley's fence, Rob got him by the leg, butthe trowsers were old and the piece came out: and then the man dashedinto Riley's old tobacco barn, and slammed the door almost on the dog'snose. 

Rob ran around the house to see if there was an open window, and findingnone, he went back to the door and lay down to wait. 

Harry and Kate ran home as fast as they could, and after a while Robcame too. He had waited a reasonable time at the door of the barn, butthe man had not come out. 

CHAPTER XII. 

TONY ON THE WAR-PATH. 

"She did it all, " said Harry, when they had told the tale to half thevillage, on the store-porch. 

"I!" exclaimed Kate. "Rob, you mean. "

"That's a good dog, " said Mr. Darby, the storekeeper; "what'll you takefor him?"

"Not for sale, " said Harry. 

"Rob's all very well, " remarked Tony Kirk; "but it won't do to have afeller like that in the woods, a fright'nin' the children. I'd like toknow who he is. "

Just at this moment Uncle Braddock made his appearance, hurrying alongmuch faster than he usually walked, with his eyes and teeth glisteningin the sunshine. 

"I seed him!" he cried, as soon as he came up. 

"Who'd you see?" cried several persons. 

"Oh! I seed de dog after him, and I come along as fas' as I could, butcouldn't come very fas'. De ole wrapper cotch de wind. "

"Who was it?" asked Tony. 

"I seed him a-runnin'. Bress my soul! de dog like to got him!"

"But who was he, Uncle Braddock?" said Mr. Loudon, who had just reachedthe store from his house, where Kate, who had run home, had told thestory. "Do you know him?"

"Know him? Reckon I does?" said Uncle Braddock, "an' de dog ud a knowedhim too, ef he'd a cotched him! Dat's so, Mah'sr John. "

"Well, tell us his name, if you know him, " said Mr. Darby. 

"Ob course, I knows him, " said Uncle Braddock. "I'se done knowed him furtwenty or fifty years. He's George Mason. "

The announcement of this name caused quite a sensation in the party. 

"I thought he was down in Mississippi, " said one man. 

"So he was; I reckons, " said Uncle Braddock, "but he's done come backnow. I'se seed him afore to-day, and Aunt Matilda's seed him, too. Yah, ha! Dat dere dog come mighty nigh cotchin' him!"

George Mason had been quite a noted character in that neighborhood fiveor six years before. He belonged to a good family, but was of a lawlessdisposition and was generally disliked by the decent people of thecounty. Just before he left for the extreme Southern States, it wasdiscovered that he had been concerned in a series of horse-thefts, forwhich he would have been arrested had he not taken his departure fromthe State. 

Few people, excepting Mr. Loudon and one or two others, knew the extentof his misdemeanors; and out of regard to his family, these had not beenmade public. But he had the reputation of being a wild, disorderly man, and now that it was known that he had contemplated boxing Kate Loudon'sears and whipping Harry, the indignation was very great. 

Harry and Kate were favorites with everybody--white and black. 

"I tell ye what I'm goin' to do, " said Tony Kirk; "I'm goin' after thatfeller. "

At this, half a dozen men offered to go along with Tony. 

"What will you do, if you find him?" asked Mr. Loudon. 

"That depends on circumstances, " replied Tony. 

"I am willing to have you go, " said Mr. Loudon, who was a magistrate anda gentleman of much influence in the village, "on condition that if youfind him you offer him no violence. Tell him to leave the county, andsay to him, from me, that if he is found here again he shall bearrested. "

"All right, " said Tony; and he proceeded to make up his party. 

There were plenty of volunteers; and for a while it was thought thatUncle Braddock intended to offer to go. But, if so, he must have changedhis mind, for he soon left the village and went over to Aunt Matilda'sand had a good talk with her. The old woman was furiously angry when sheheard of the affair. 

"I wish I'd been a little quicker, " she said, "and dere wouldn't a beena red spot on him. "

Uncle Braddock didn't know exactly what she meant; but he wished so, too. 

Tony didn't want a large party. He chose four men who could be dependedupon, and they started out that evening. 

It was evident that Mason knew how to keep himself out of sight, for hehad been in the vicinity a week or more--as Tony discovered, after avisit to Aunt Matilda--and no white person had seen him. 

But Tony thought he knew the country quite as well as George Mason did, and he felt sure he should find him. 

His party searched the vicinity quite thoroughly that night, startingfrom Tom Riley's tobacco barn; but they saw nothing of their man; and inthe morning they made the discovery that Mason had borrowed one ofRiley's horses, without the knowledge of its owner, and had gone off, north of the mica mine. Some negroes had seen him riding away. 

So Tony and his men took horses and rode away after him. Each of themcarried his gun, for they did not know in what company they might findMason. A man who steals horses is generally considered, especially inthe country, to be wicked enough to do anything. 

At a little place called Jordan's cross-roads, they were sure they hadcome upon him. Tom Riley's horse was found at the blacksmith's shop atthe cross-roads, and the blacksmith said that he had been left there tohave a shoe put on, and that the man who had ridden him had gone on overthe fields toward a house on the edge of the woods, about a mile away. 

So Tony and his men rode up to within a half-mile of the house, and thenthey dismounted, tied their horses, and proceeded on foot. They kept, asfar as possible, under cover of the tall weeds and bushes, and hurriedalong silently and in single file, Tony in the lead. Thus they soonreached the house, when they quietly surrounded it. 

But George Mason played them a pretty trick. 

CHAPTER XIII. 

COUSIN MARIA. 

After posting one of his men on each side of the house, which stood onthe edge of a field, without any fence around it, Tony Kirk stepped upto the front door and knocked. The door was quickly opened by a woman. 

"Why, Cousin Maria, " said Tony, "is this you?"

"Certainly it's me, Anthony, " said the woman; "who else should it be?"

Cousin Maria was a tall woman, dressed in black. She had gray hair andwore spectacles. She seemed very glad to see Tony, and shook hands withhim warmly. 

"I didn't know you lived here, " said Tony. 

"Well, I don't live here, exactly, " said Cousin Maria; "but come in andsit awhile. You've been a-huntin', have you?"

"Well, yes, " said Tony, "I am a-huntin'. "

Without mentioning that he had some friends outside, Tony went in andsat down to talk with Cousin Maria. The man in front of the house hadstepped to one side when the door opened, and the others were out ofsight, of course. 

Tony entered a small sitting-room, into which the front door opened, andtook a seat by Cousin Maria. 

"You see, " said she, "old Billy Simpson let this house fur a hundreddollars--there's eighty acres with it--to Sarah Ann Hemphill and herhusband; and he's gone to Richmond to git stock for a wheelwright'sshop. That's his trade, you know; and they're goin' to have the shopover there in the wagon-house, that can be fixed up easy enough ef SamHemphill chooses to work at it, which I don't believe he will; but he_can_ work, ef he will, and this is just the place for a wheelwright'sshop, ef the right man goes into the business; and they sold their twocows--keeping only the red-and-white heifer. I guess you remember thatheifer; they got her of old Joe Sanders, on the Creek. And they sold oneof their horses--the sorrel--and a mule; they hadn't no use fur 'emhere, fur the land's not worth much, and hasn't seen no guano nornothin' fur three or four years; and the money they got was enough tostart a mighty good cooper-shop, ef Sam don't spend it all, or most ofit, in Richmond, which I think he will; and of course, he being away, Sarah Ann wanted to go to her mother's, and she got herself ready andtook them four children--and I pity the old lady, fur Sam's childrennever had no bringin' up. I disremember how old Tommy is, but it isn'tover eight, and just as noisy as ef he wasn't the oldest. And so I comehere to take care of the place; but I can't stay no longer than Tuesdayfortnight, as I told Sarah Ann, fur I've got to go to Betsey Cropper'sthen to help her with her spinnin'; and there's my own things--sevenpounds of wool to spin fur Truly Mattherses people, besides two bushelbaskets, easy, of carpet-rags to sew, and I want 'em done by the timeMiss Jane gits her loom empty, or I'll git no weavin' done this year, and what do you think? I've had another visitor to-day, and your comin'right afterwards kind o' struck me as mighty queer, both bein' Akevillepeople, so to speak tho' it's been a long day since he's been there, andyou'll never guess who it was, fur it was George Mason. "

And she stopped and wiped her face with her calico apron. 

"So George Mason was here, was he?" said Tony. "Where is he now?"

"Oh! he's gone, " replied Cousin Maria. "It wasn't more 'n ten or fifteenminutes before you came in, and he was a-sittin' here talking about oletimes--he's rougher than he was, guess he didn't learn no good downthere in Mississippi--when all ov a sudden he got up an' took his hatand walked off. Well, that was jist like George Mason. He never had muchmanners, and would always just as soon go off without biddin' a bodygood-by as not. "

"You didn't notice which way he went, did you?" asked Tony. 

"Yes, I did, " said Cousin Maria; "he went out o' the back door, andalong the edge of the woods, and he was soon out of sight, fur Georgehas got long legs, as you well know; and the last I saw of him was justout there by that fence. And if there isn't Jim Anderson! Come in, Jim;what are you doin' standin' out there?"

So she went to the window to call Jim Anderson, and Tony stepped to thedoor and whistled for the other men, so that when Cousin Maria came tothe door she saw not only Jim Anderson, but Thomas Campbell and CaptainBob Winters and Doctor Price's son Brinsley. 

"Well, upon my word an' honor!" said Cousin Maria, lifting up both herhands. 

"Come along, boys, " said Tony, starting off toward the woods. "We've gotno time to lose. Good-by, Cousin Maria. "

"Good-by, Cousin Maria, " said each of the other men, as the partyhurried away. 

Cousin Maria did not answer a word. She sat right down on the door-stepand took off her spectacles. She rubbed them with her apron, and thenput them on again. But there was no mistake. There were the men. If shehad seen four ghosts she could not have been more astonished. 

Tony did not for a moment doubt Cousin Maria's word when she told himthat George Mason had gone away. She never told a lie. The only troublewith her was that she told too much truth. 

In about an hour and a half the five men returned to the place wherethey had left their horses. They had found no trace of George Mason. 

When they reached the clump of trees, there were no horses there!

They looked at each other with blank faces!

"He's got our horses!" said Jim Anderson, when his consternation allowedhim to speak. 

"Yes, " said Tony, "and sarved us right. We oughter left one man here totake care uv 'em, knowin' George Mason as we do. '

"I had an idea, " said Dr. Price's son Brinsley, "that we should havedone something of that kind. "

"Idees ain't no good, " said Tony with a grunt, as he marched off towardthe blacksmith's shop at Jordan's cross-roads. 

The blacksmith had seen nothing of Mason or the horses, but Tom Riley'shorse was still there; and as the members of the party were all wellknown to the blacksmith, he allowed them to take the animal to itsowner. So the five men rode the one horse back to Akeville; not allriding at once, but one at a time. 

CHAPTER XIV. 

HARRY'S GRAND SCHEME. 

This wholesale appropriation of horses caused, of course, a greatcommotion in the vicinity of Akeville, and half the male populationturned out the next day in search of George Mason and the five horses. 

Even Harry was infected with the general excitement, and, mounted on oldSelim, he rode away after dinner (there was no school that afternoon) tosee if he could find any one who had heard anything. There ought to benews, for the men had been away all the morning. 

About two miles from the village, the road on which Harry was ridingforked, and not knowing that the party which had started off in thatdirection had taken the road which ran to the northeast, as being thedirection in which a man would probably go, if he wanted to get awaysafely with five stolen horses, Harry kept straight on. 

The road was lonely and uninteresting. On one side was a wood of"old-field pines"--pines of recent growth and little value, that springup on the old abandoned tobacco fields--and on the other a stretch ofunderbrush, with here and there a tree of tolerable size, but from whichalmost all the valuable timber had been cut. 

Selim was inclined to take things leisurely, and Harry gradually allowedhim to slacken his pace into a walk, and even occasionally to stop andlower his head to take a bite from some particularly tempting bunch ofgrass by the side of the road. 

The fact was, Harry was thinking. He had entirely forgotten the fivehorses and everything concerning them, and was deeply cogitating a planwhich, in an exceedingly crude shape, had been in his mind ever since hehad met old Miles on the road to the railroad. 

What he wished to devise was some good plan to prevent the interruption, so often caused by the rising of Crooked Creek, of communication betweenthe mica mine, belonging to the New York company, and the station atHetertown. 

If he could do this, he thought he could make some money by it; and itwas, as we all know, very necessary for him, or at least for AuntMatilda, that he should make money. 

It was of no use to think of a bridge. There were bridges already, andwhen the creek was "up" you could scarcely see them. 

A bridge that would be high enough and long enough would be very costly, and it would be an undertaking with which Harry could not concernhimself, no matter what it might cost. 

A ferry was unadvisable, for the stream was too rapid and dangerous intime of freshets. 

There was nothing that was really reliable and worthy of being seriouslythought of but a telegraph line. This Harry believed to be feasible. 

He did not think it would cost very much. If this telegraph line onlyextended across the creek, not more than half a mile of wire, at theutmost, would be required. 

Nothing need be expended for poles, as there were tall pine-trees oneach side of the creek that would support the wire; and there were twocabins, conveniently situated, in which the instruments could be placed. 

Harry had thoroughly considered all these matters, having been down tothe creek several times on purpose to take observations. 

The procuring of the telegraphic instruments, however, and the necessityof having an operator on the other side, presented difficulties not easyto surmount. 

But Harry did not despair. 

To be sure the machines would cost money, and so would the wire, insulators, etc. , but then the mica company would surely be willing topay a good price to have their messages transmitted at times whenotherwise they would have to send a man twenty miles to a telegraphicstation. 

So if the money could be raised it would pay to do it--at least if thecalculations, with which Harry and Kate had been busy for days, shouldprove to be correct. 

About the operator on the other side, Harry scarcely knew what to think. If it were necessary to hire any one, that would eat terribly into theprofits. 

Something economical must be devised for this part of the plan. 

As to the operator on the Akeville side of the creek, Harry intended tofill that position himself. He had been interested in telegraphy for ayear or two. He understood the philosophy of the system, and had had theopportunity afforded him by the operator at Hetertown of learning tosend messages and to read telegraphic hieroglyphics. He could notunderstand what words had come over the wires, simply by listening tothe clicking of the instrument--an accomplishment of all experttelegraphers--but he thought he could do quite well enough if he couldread the marks on the paper slips, and there was no knowing to whatproficiency he might arrive in time. 

Of course he had no money to buy telegraphic apparatus, wire, etc. , etc. But he thought he could get it. "How does any one build railroads ortelegraphic lines?" he had said to Kate. "Do they take the money out oftheir own pockets?"

Kate had answered that she did not suppose they did, unless the moneywas there; and Harry had told her, very confidently, that the money wasnever there. No man, or, at least, very few men, could afford toconstruct a railroad or telegraph line. The way these things were donewas by forming a company. 

And this was just what Harry proposed to do. 

It was, of course, quite difficult to determine just how large a companythis should be. If it were composed of too many members, the profits, which would be limited, owing to the peculiar circumstances of the case, would not amount to much for each stockholder. And yet there must bemembers enough to furnish money enough. 

And more than that, a contract must be made with the mica-mine people, so that the business should not be diverted from Harry's company into anyoutside channels. 

All these things occupied Harry's mind, and it is no wonder that hehardly looked up when Selim stopped. The horse had been walking soslowly that stopping did not seem to make much difference. 

But when he heard a voice call out, "Oh, Mah'sr Harry! I'se mighty gladto see yer!" he looked up quickly enough. 

And there was old Uncle Braddock, on horseback!

Harry could scarcely believe his eyes. 

And what was more astonishing, the old negro had no less than four otherhorses with him that he was leading, or rather trying to lead, out of aroad through the old-field pines that here joined the main road. 

"Why, what's the meaning of this?" cried Harry. "Where did you get thosehorses, Uncle Braddock?"

And then, without waiting for an answer, Harry burst out laughing. Sucha ridiculous sight was enough to make anybody laugh. 

Uncle Braddock sat on the foremost horse, his legs drawn up as if hewere sitting on a chair, and a low one at that, for he had beengradually shortening the stirrups for the last hour, hoping in that wayto get a firmer seat. His long stick was in one hand, his old hat wasjammed down tightly over his eyes, and his dressing-gown floated in thewind like a rag-bag out for a holiday. 

"Oh, I'se mighty glad to see yer, Mah'sr Harry!" said he, pulling at hishorse's bridle in such a way as to make him nearly run into Selim andHarry, who, however, managed to avoid him and the rest of the cavalcadeby moving off to the other side of the road. 

"I was jist a-thinkin' uv gittin' off and lettin' em go 'long they ownse'ves. I never seed sich hosses fur twistin' up and pullin' crooked. I'spected to have my neck broke mor' 'n a dozen times. I never was sodisgruntled in all my born days, Mah'sr Harry. Whoa dar, you yallerhoss! Won't you take a-hole, Mah'sr Harry, afore dey're de death uv me?"

The old man had certainly got the horses into a mixed-up condition. Oneof them was beside the horse he rode, two were behind, and one waswedged in partly in front of these in such a way that he had to travelsidewise. The bridle of one horse was tied to that of another, so thatUncle Braddock led them all by the bridle of the horse by his side. Thiswas tied to his long cane, which he grasped firmly in his left hand. 

Harry jumped down from Selim, and, tying him to the fence, went over tothe assistance of Uncle Braddock. As he was quite familiar with horses, Harry soon arranged matters on a more satisfactory footing. Hedisentangled the animals, two of which he proposed to take charge ofhimself, and then, after making Uncle Braddock lengthen his stirrups, and lead both his horses on one side of him, he fastened the other twohorses side by side, mounted Selim, and started back for Akeville, followed by Uncle Braddock and his reduced cavalcade. 

The old negro was profuse in his thanks; but in the middle of hisprotestations of satisfaction, Harry suddenly interrupted him. 

"Why, look here, Uncle Braddock! Where did you get these horses? Theseare the horses George Mason stole. "

"To be sure they is, " said Uncle Braddock. "What would I be a-doin' wid'em ef they wasn't?"

"But how did you get them? Tell me about it, " said Harry, checking theimpatient Selim, who, now that his head was turned homeward, was anxiousto go on with as much expedition as possible under the circumstances. 

"Why, ye see, Mah'sr Harry, " said the old man, "I was up at MissMaria's; she said she'd gi' me some pieces of caliker to mend mewrapper. I put 'em in me pocket, but I 'spects they's blowed out; andwhen I was a-comin' away fru de woods, right dar whar ole Elick Pottsused to hab his cabin--reckon you nebber seed dat cabin; it was alltumbled down 'fore you was born--right dar in de clarin' I seed fivehorses, all tied to de trees. 'Lor's a massy!' I said to mesef, 'is dewar come agin?' Fur I nebber seed so many hosses in de woods sence dewar. An' den while I was a-lookin' roun' fur a tree big enough to gitbehind, wrapper an' all, out comes Mah'sr George Mason from a bush, an'he hollers, 'Hello, Uncle Braddock, you come a-here. ' An' then he says, 'You ain't much, Uncle Braddock, but I guess you'll do!' An' I says, 'Don't believe I'll do, Mah'sr George, fur you know I can't march, an' Inebber could shoot none, an' I got de rheumertiz in both me legs and meback, and no jint-water in me knees--you can't make no soldier out erme, Mah'sr George. ' And then he laughed, an' says, 'You would make apretty soldier, dat's true, Uncle Braddock. But I don't want nosoldiers; what I want you to do is to take these horses home. ' 'Towhere? says I. 'To Akeville, ' says Mah'sr George. An' he didn't say muchmore, neither; for he jist tied dem horses all together and led 'em outinto a little road dat goes fru de woods dar, an' he put me on de headhorse, an' he says, 'Now, go 'long, Uncle Braddock, an' ef anythinghappens to dem hosses you'll have to go to jail fur it. So, look out!'An' bress your soul, Mah'sr Harry, I did have to look out, fur sich adrefful time as I did have, 'specially wid dat yaller hoss, I nebber didsee. "

CHAPTER XV. 

THE COUNCIL. 

When Harry's mother heard that he had gone off to try and meet thehorse-hunters she was quite anxious about him. 

But Mr. Loudon laughed at her fears. 

"If there had been the slightest danger, " he said, "of course I wouldnot have allowed him to go. But I was glad he wanted to go. A youngsterof his age ought to have a disposition to see what is going on and totake part, too, for that matter. I had much rather find it necessary torestrain Harry than to push him. You mustn't want to make a girl of him. You would only spoil the boy, and make a very poor girl. "

Mrs. Loudon made no reply. She thought her husband was a very wise man;but she took up her key basket and went off to the pantry with an airthat indicated that she had ideas of her own upon the subject inquestion. 

Kate had no fears for Harry. She had unbounded faith in his good senseand his bravery, if he should happen to get into danger. 

The fact is, she was quite a brave girl herself; and brave people arevery apt to think their friends as courageous as themselves. 

When Harry and Uncle Braddock reached the village they found several ofthe older inhabitants on the store porch, and they met with anenthusiastic reception. 

And when, later in the afternoon, most of the men who had gone out afterGeorge Mason, returned from their unsuccessful expedition, thediscussion in regard to Mason's strange proceeding grew very animated. Some thought he had only intended to play a trick; others that he hadbeen unable to get away with the horses, as he had hoped to do when hehad taken them. 

But nobody knew anything about the matter excepting George Masonhimself, and he was not there to give the village any information. 

As for Harry, he did not stay long to hear the discussions at the store. 

His mind was full of a much more important matter and he ran off to findKate. He wanted to talk over his latest impressions with her. 

When he reached the house, where his appearance greatly tranquillizedhis mother's mind, he found Kate in the yard under the bigcatalpa-trees, always a favorite place of resort in fine weather. 

"Oh, Harry!" she cried, when she saw him, "did they find the horses?"

"No, " said Harry; "they didn't find them. "

"Oh, what a pity! And some of them were borrowed horses. Tony Kirk hadCaptain Caseby's mud-colored horse. I don't know what the captain willdo without him. "

"Oh, the captain will do very well, " said Harry. 

"But he can't do very well, " persisted Kate. "It's the only horse he hasin the world. One thing certain, they can't go to church. "

Harry laughed at this, and then he told his sister all about his meetingwith Uncle Braddock. But while she was wondering and surmising in regardto George Mason's strange conduct, Harry, who could not keep histhoughts from more important matters, broke in with:

"But, I say, Kate, I've made up my mind about the telegraph business. There must be a company, and we ought to plan it all out before we tellpeople and sell shares. "

"That's right, " cried Kate, who was always ready for a plan. "Let's doit now. "

So, down she sat upon the ground, and Harry sat down in front of her. 

Then they held a council. 

"In the first place, we must have a President, " said Harry. 

"That ought to be you, " said Kate. 

"Yes, " said Harry, "I suppose I ought to be President. And then we musthave a Treasurer, and I think you should be Treasurer. "

"Yes, " said Kate, "that would do very well. But where could I keep themoney?"

"Pshaw!" said Harry. "It's no use to bother ourselves about that. We'dbetter get the money first, and then see where we can put it. I reckonit'll be spent before anybody gets a chance to steal it. And now then, we must have a Secretary. "

"How would Tom Selden do for Secretary?" asked Kate. 

"Oh, he isn't careful enough, " answered Harry. "I think you ought to beSecretary. You can write well, and you'll keep everything in order. "

"Very well, " said Kate, "I'll be Secretary. "

"I think, " said Harry, "that we have now about all the officers we want, excepting, of course, an Engineer, and I shall be Engineer; for I haveplanned out the whole thing already. "

"I didn't know there was to be an engine, " said Kate. 

"Engine!" exclaimed Harry, laughing. "That's a good one! I don't mean anengineer of a steam-engine. What we want is a Civil Engineer; a man wholays out railroad lines and all that kind of thing. I'm not right surethat a Civil Engineer does plan out telegraph lines; but it don't makeany difference what we call the officer. He'll have to attend to puttingup the line. "

"And do you think you can do it?" said Kate, "I should suppose it wouldbe a good deal harder to be Engineer than to be President. "

"Yes, I suppose it will; but I've studied the matter. I've watched themen putting up new wires at Hetertown, and Mr. Lyons told me all he knewabout it. It's easy enough. Very different from building a railroad. "

"It must be a good deal safer to build a railroad, though, " said Kate. "You don't have to go so high up in the air. "

"You're a little goose, " said Harry, laughing at her again. 

"No, I'm not, " said Kate. "I'm Treasurer and Secretary of the--Whatshall we call the company, Harry? It ought to have a name. "

"Certainly it ought, " said her brother. "How would 'The Mica MineTelegraph Company'--No, that wouldn't do at all. It isn't theirs. It'sours. "

"Call it 'The Loudon Telegraph Company, '" said Kate. 

"That would be nearer the thing, but it wouldn't be very modest, thoughpeople often do call their companies after their own names. What do youthink of 'The Akeville and Hetertown Company'?"

"But it won't go to either of those places, " said Kate. "It will onlycross the creek. "

"All right!" exclaimed Harry. "Let's call it 'The Crooked CreekTelegraph Company. '"

"Good!" said Kate. "That's the very name. "

So the company was named. 

"Now, " said Kate, "we've got all the head officers and the name; what dowe want next?"

"We want a good many other things, " said Harry. "I suppose we ought tohave a Board of Directors. "

"Shall we be in that?" asked Kate. 

Harry considered this question before answering it. "I think thePresident ought to be in it, " he said, "but I don't know about theSecretary and Treasurer. I think they are not generally Directors. "

"Well, " said Kate, with a little sigh, "I don't mind. "

"You can be, if you want to, " said Harry. "Wait until we get the Boardorganized, and I'll talk to the other fellows about it. "

"Are they going to be all boys?" asked Kate, quickly. 

"I reckon so, " said Harry. "We don't want any men in our Board. They'dbe ordering us about and doing everything themselves. "

"I didn't mean that. Will there be any girls?"

"No, " said Harry, a little contemptuously, it is to be feared. "Thereisn't a girl in the village who knows anything about telegraph lines, except you. "

"Well, if it's to be all boys, I don't believe I would care to belong tothe Board, " said Kate. "But who are we going to have?"

This selection of the members of the Board of Directors seemed a littledifficult at first, but as there were so few boys to choose from it wassettled in quite a short time. 

Tom Selden, Harvey Davis, George Purvis, Dr. Price's youngest son, Brandeth, and Wilson Ogden, were chosen, and these, with the addition ofHarry, made up the Board of Directors of the Crooked Creek TelegraphCompany. 

"Well, " said Kate, as the council arose and adjourned, "I hope we'llsettle the rest of our business as easily as we have settled this part. "

CHAPTER XVI. 

COMPANY BUSINESS. 

After the selection of the Directors, all of whom accepted theirappointments with great readiness, although, with the exception of TomSelden, none of them had known anything about the company until informedby Harry of their connection with its management, it remained only toget subscriptions to the capital stock, and then the construction of theline might immediately begin. 

Harry and Kate made out a statement of the probable expense, and a verygood statement it was, for, as Harry had said, he had thoroughly studiedup the matter, aided by the counsel of Mr. Lyons, the operator atHetertown. 

This statement, with the probable profits and the great advantages ofsuch a line, was written out by Harry, and the Secretary, consideringall clerical work to be her especial business, made six fair copies, oneof which was delivered to each of the Board of Directors, who undertookto solicit subscriptions. 

A brief constitution was drawn up, and by a clause in this instrument, one-quarter of the profits were to go to the stockholders and the restto Aunt Matilda. 

The mica-mine men, when visited by Harry, who carried a letter from hisfather, at first gave the subject but little consideration, but afterthey found how earnest Harry was in regard to the matter and how, thoroughly he had studied up the subject, theoretically and practically, under the tuition of his friend, Mr. Lyons, they began to think thatpossibly the scheme might prove of advantage to them. 

After a good deal of talk--enough to have settled much more importantbusiness--they agreed to take stock in the telegraph company, providedHarry and his Board purchased first-class instruments and appliances. 

Their idea in insisting upon this was the suggestion of their manager, that if the boys failed in their project they might get possession ofthe line and work it themselves. Consequently, with a view both to thepresent success of the association and their own possible acquisition ofthe line, they insisted on first-class instruments. 

This determination discouraged Harry and his friends, for they had notcalculated upon making the comparatively large expenditures necessary toprocure these first-class instruments. 

They had thought to buy some cheap but effective apparatus of which theyhad heard, and which, for amateur purposes, answered very well. 

But when the mica-mine officers agreed to contribute a sum in proportionto the increased capital demanded, Harry became quite hopeful, and theother members of the Board agreed that they had better work harder anddo the thing right while they were about it. 

The capital of the company was fixed at one hundred and fifty dollars, and to this the mica-mine people agreed to subscribe fifty dollars. Theyalso gave a written promise to give all the business of that kind thatthey might have for a year from date, to Harry and his associates, provided that the telegraphic service should always be performedpromptly and to their satisfaction. 

A contract, fixing rates, etc. , was drawn up, and Harry, the Directors, the Secretary, and the Treasurer, all and severally signed it. This wasnot actually necessary, but these officers, quite naturally, weredesirous of doing all the signing that came in their way. 

Private subscriptions came in more slowly. Mr. Loudon gave fifteendollars, and Dr. Price contributed ten, as his son was a Director. OldMr. Truly Matthews subscribed five dollars, and hoped that he should seehis money back again; but if he didn't, he supposed it would help tokeep the boys out of mischief. Small sums were contributed by otherpersons in the village and neighborhood, each of whom was furnished witha certificate of stock proportioned to the amount of the investment. 

There were fifty shares issued, of three dollars each; and Miss JaneDavis, who subscribed one dollar and a quarter, got five-twelfths of ashare. The members of the Board, collectively, put in thirty dollars. 

The majority of the shareholders considered their money as a donation toa good cause, for of course, it was known that Aunt Matilda's supportwas the object of the whole business; but some hoped to make somethingout of it, and others contributed out of curiosity to see what sort of atelegraph the company would build, and how it would work. 

It was urged by some wise people that if this money had been contributeddirectly to Aunt Matilda, it would have been of much more service toher; but other people, equally wise, said that in that case, the moneycould never have been raised. 

The colored people, old and young, took a great interest in the matter, and some of them took parts of shares, which was better. Even JohnWilliam Webster took seventy-five cents worth of stock. 

The most astonishing subscription was one from Aunt Matilda herself. Oneday she handed to Kate a ten-cent piece--silver, old style--anddesired that that might be put into the company for her. Where she gotit, nobody knew, but she had it, and she put it in. 

Explanations were of no use. The fact of the whole business being forher benefit made no impression on her. She wanted a share in thecompany, and was proud of her one-thirtieth part of a share. 

A Shareholder

Taking them as a whole, the Board of Directors appeared to have beenvery well chosen. Tom Selden was a good fellow and a firm friend ofHarry and Kate. They might always reckon upon his support, although hehad the fault, when matters seemed a little undecided, of giving hisadvice at great length. But when a thing was agreed upon he went to workwithout a word. 

Harvey Davis was a large, blue-eyed boy, very quiet, with yellow hair. He was one of the best scholars in the Akeville school, and could throwa stone over the highest oak-tree by the church--something no other boyin the village could do. He made an admirable Director. 

Dr. Price's son, Brandeth, and Wilson Ogden, lived some miles from thevillage, and sometimes one or the other of them did not get to a meetingof the Board until the business before it had been despatched. But theyalways attended punctually if there was a horse or a mule to be had intime, and made no trouble when they came. 

George Purvis lived just outside of the village. He was a tall fellowwith a little head. His father had been in the Legislature, and Georgewas a great fellow to talk, and he was full of new ideas. If Harry andKate had not worked out so thoroughly the plan of the company beforeelecting the Directors, George would have given the rest of the Board agreat deal of trouble. 

When about four-fifths of the capital stock had been subscribed, andthere was not much likelihood of their getting any more at present, theBoard of Directors determined to go to work. 

Acting under the advice and counsel of Mr. Lyons (who ought to have beena Director, but who was not offered the position), they sent to New Yorkfor two sets of telegraphic instruments--registers, keys, batteries, reels, etc. , etc. --one set for each office, and for about half a mileof wire, with the necessary office-wire, insulators, etc. 

This took pretty much all their capital, but they hoped to economize agood deal in the construction of the line, and felt quite hopeful. 

But it seemed to be a long and dreary time that they had to wait for thearrival of their purchases from New York. Either Harry or one of theother boys rode over to Hetertown every day, and the attention they paidto the operation of telegraphy, while waiting for the train, wassomething wonderful. 

It was a fortunate thing for the Board that, on account of the sicknessof the teacher, the vacation commenced earlier than usual in Akevillethat year. 

More than a week passed, and no word from New York. No wonder the boysbecame impatient. It had been a month, or more, since the scheme hadbeen first broached in the village, and nothing had yet been done--atleast, nothing to which the boys could point as evidence of progress. 

The field of operation had been thoroughly explored. The pine treeswhich were to serve as telegraph poles had been selected, and contractshad been made with "One-eyed Lewston, " a colored preacher, who livednear the creek on the Akeville side, and with Aunt Judy, who had a loghouse on the Hetertown side, by which these edifices were to be used astelegraphic stations. The instruments and batteries, when not in use, were to be locked up in stationary cases, made by the Akevillecarpenter, after designs by Harry. 

Of course, while waiting for the arrival of their goods from New York, the Board met every day. Having little real business, their discussionswere not always harmonious. 

George Purvis grew discontented. Several times he said to Brandeth Priceand Harvey Ogden that he didn't see why he shouldn't be something morethan a mere Director, and a remark that Harvey once made, that if Harryand Kate had not chosen to ask him to join them he would not have beeneven a Director, made no impression upon him. 

One day, when a meeting was in session by the roadside, near "One-eyedLewston's" cabin--or the Akeville telegraph station, as I shouldsay--George and Harry had a slight dispute, and Purvis took occasion togive vent to some of his dissatisfaction. 

"I don't see what you're President for, anyway, " said he to Harry. "After the Board of Directors had been organized it ought to haveelected all the officers. "

"But none of you fellows knew anything about the business, " said Harry. "Kate and I got up the company, and we needn't have had a Board ofDirectors at all, if we hadn't wanted to. If any of you boys had knownanything about telegraphs we would have given you an office. "

"I reckon you don't have to know anything about telegraphs to beSecretary, or Treasurer either, " said George, warmly. 

"No, " answered Harry, "but you've got to know how to keep accounts andto be careful and particular. "

"Like your sister Kate, I suppose, " said George, with a sneer. 

"Yes, like Kate, " answered Harry. 

"I'd be ashamed of myself, " said George, "if I couldn't get a betterSecretary or Treasurer than a girl. I don't see what a girl is doing inthe company, anyway. The right kind of a girl wouldn't be seen pushingherself in among a lot of boys that don't want her. "

Without another word, the President of the Crooked Creek TelegraphCompany arose and offered battle to George Purvis. The contest was asevere one, for Purvis was a tall fellow, but Harry was as tough as thesole of your boot, and he finally laid his antagonist on the flat of hisback in the road. 

George arose, put on his hat, dusted off his clothes, and resigned hisposition in the Board. 

CHAPTER XVII. 

PRINCIPALLY CONCERNING KATE. 

During all this work of soliciting subscriptions, ordering instrumentsand batteries, and leasing stations, Kate had kept pretty much in thebackground. True, she had not been idle. She had covered a great deal ofpaper with calculations, and had issued certificates of stock, all inher own plain handwriting, to those persons who had put money into thetreasury of the company. And she had received all that money, had keptaccurate account of it, and had locked it up in a little box which waskindly kept for her in the iron safe owned by Mr. Darby, thestorekeeper. 

When the money was all drawn out and sent to New York, her duties becameeasier. 

School had closed, as has been before stated, and although Kate had homeduties and some home studies, she had plenty of time for outdoor life. But now she almost always had to enjoy that life alone, if we except thecompany of Rob, who generally kept faithfully near her so long as shesaw fit to walk, but when she stopped to rest or to pursue some of herbotanical or entomological studies he was very apt to wander off on hisown account. He liked to keep moving. 

One of her favorite resorts was what was called the "Near Woods, " apiece of forest land not far from Mr. Loudon's house, and within callingdistance of several dwellings and negro cabins. She visited Aunt Matildanearly every day; but the woods around her cabin were principally pine, and pine forests are generally very sombre. 

But the "Near Woods" were principally of oak and hickory, with dogwood, sweet gum, and other smaller trees here and there; and there were openspots where the sun shone in and where flowers grew and the insectsloved to come, as well as heavily shaded places under grand old trees. 

She thoroughly enjoyed herself in a wood like this. She did not feel inthe least lonely, although she would have found herself sadly alone in abusy street of a great city. 

Here, she was acquainted with everything she saw. There was company forher on every side. She had not been in the habit of passing the treesand the bushes, the lichens and ferns, and the flowers and mosses as ifthey were merely people hurrying up and down the street. She had stoppedand made their acquaintance, and now she knew them all, and they wereher good friends, excepting a few, such as the poison-vines, and hereand there a plant or reptile, with which she was never on terms ofintimacy. 

She would often sit and swing on a low-bending grape-vine, that hungbetween two lofty trees, sometimes singing, and sometimes listening tothe insects that hummed around her, and all the while as happy a Kate asany Kate in the world. 

It was here, on the grape-vine swing, that Harry found her, the dayafter his little affair with George Purvis. 

"Why, Harry!" she cried, "I thought you were having a meeting. 

"There's nothing to meet about, " said Harry, seating himself on a bigmoss-covered root near Kate's swing. 

"There will be when the telegraph things come, " said Kate. 

"Oh, yes, there'll be enough to do then, but it seems as if they werenever coming. And I've been thinking about something, Kate. It strikesme that, perhaps, it would be better for you to hold only one office. "

"Why? Don't I do well enough?" asked Kate, quickly, stopping herselfvery suddenly in her swinging. 

"Oh, yes! you do better than any one else could. But, you see, the otherfellows--I mean the Board--may think that some of them ought to havean office. I'd give them one of mine, but none of them would do forEngineer. They don't know enough about the business. "

"Which office would you give up, if you were me?" asked Kate. 

"Oh, I'd give up the Secretaryship, of course, " said Harry. "Nobody butyou must be Treasurer. Harvey Davis would make a very good Secretary, considering that there's so little writing to do now. "

"Well, then, " said Kate, "let Harvey be Secretary. "

There was no bitterness or reproachfulness in Kate's words, but shelooked a little serious, and began to swing herself very vigorously. Itwas evident that she felt this resignation of her favorite office muchmore deeply than she chose to express. And no wonder. She had done allthe work; she had taken a pride in doing her work well, and now, whenthe company was about to enter upon its actual public life, she was toretire into the background. For a Treasurer had not much to do, especially now that there was so little money. There was scarcely apaper for the Treasurer to sign. But the Secretary--Well, there was nouse of thinking any more about it. No doubt Harry knew what was best. Hewas with the Board every day, and she scarcely ever met the members. 

Harry saw that Kate was troubled, but he did not know what to say, andso he whittled at the root on which he was sitting. 

"I should think, Harry, " said Kate directly, "that George Purvis wouldwant to be Secretary. He's just the kind of a boy to like to be anofficer of some kind. "

"Oh, he can't be an officer, " said Harry, still whittling at the root. "He has resigned. "

"George Purvis resigned!" exclaimed Kate. "Why, what did he do thatfor?"

"Oh, we didn't agree, " said Harry; "and we're better off without him. Wehave Directors enough as it is. Five is a very good number. There can'tbe a tie vote with five members in the Board. "

Kate suspected that something had happened that she was not to be told. But she asked no questions. 

After a few minutes of swinging and whittling, in which neither of themsaid anything, Kate got out of her grape-vine swing and picked up herhat from the ground, and Harry jumped up and whistled for Rob. 

As they walked home together, Kate said:

"Harry, I think I'd better resign as Treasurer. Perhaps the officersought all to be boys. "

"Look here, Kate, " said Harry; and he stopped as he spoke, "I'm notgoing to have anybody else as Treasurer. If you resign that office I'llsmash the company!"

Of course, after that there was nothing more to be said, and Kateremained Treasurer of the Crooked Creek Telegraph Company. 

Before very long, of course, she heard the particulars of GeorgePurvis's resignation. She did not say much about it, but she was veryglad that it was not Harry who had been whipped. 

The next morning, quite early--the birds and the negroes had been upsome time, but everybody in Mr. Loudon's house was still sleepingsoundly--Harry, who had a small room at the front of the house, wasawakened by the noise of a horse galloping wildly up to the front gate, and by hearing his name shouted out at the top of a boy's voice. 

The boy was Tom Selden, and he shouted:

"Oh, Harry! Harry Loudon! Hello, there! The telegraph things have come!"

Harry gave one bound. He jerked on his clothes quicker than you couldsay the multiplication table, and he rushed down stairs and into thefront yard. 

It was actually so! The instruments and batteries and everything, allpacked up in boxes--Tom couldn't say how many boxes--had come by alate train, and Mr. Lyons had sent word over to his house last night, and he had been over there this morning by daybreak and had seen one ofthe boxes, and it was directed, all right, to the Crooked CreekTelegraph Company, and--

There was a good deal more intelligence, it appeared, but it wasn't easyto make it out, for Harry was asking fifty questions, and Kate wascalling out from one of the windows, and Dick Ford and half-a-dozenother negro boys were running up and shouting to each other that thethings had come. Mr. Loudon came out to see what all the excitement wasabout, and he had to be told everything by Tom and Harry, both at once;and Rob and Blinks were barking, and there was hubbub enough. 

Harry shouted to one of the boys to saddle Selim, and when the horse wasbrought around in an incredibly short time--four negroes having clappedon his saddle and bridle--Harry ran into the house to get his hat; butjust as he had bounced out again, his mother appeared at the front door. 

"Harry!" she cried, "you're not going off without your breakfast!"

"Oh, I don't want any breakfast, mother, " he shouted. 

"But you cannot go without your breakfast. You'll be sick. "

"But just think!" expostulated Harry. "The things have been there allnight. "

"It makes no difference, " said Mrs. Loudon. "You must have yourbreakfast first. "

Mr. Loudon now put in a word, and Selim was led back to the stable. 

"Well, I suppose I must, " said poor Harry, with an air of resignation. "Come in, Tom, and have something to eat. "

The news spread rapidly. Harvey Davis was soon on hand, and by the timebreakfast was over, nearly every body in the village knew that thetelegraph things had come. 

Harry and Tom did not get off as soon as they expected, for Mr. Loudonadvised them to take the spring-wagon--for they would need it to haultheir apparatus to the telegraphic stations--and the horse had to beharnessed, and the cases which were to protect the instruments, when notin use, were to be brought from the carpenter-shop, and so it seemedvery late before they started. 

Just as they were ready to go, up galloped Brandeth Price and WilsonOgden. So away they all went together, two of the Board in the wagon andthree on horseback. 

Kate stood at the front gate looking after them. Do what she would, shecould not help a tear or two rising to her eyes. Mr. Loudon noticed herstanding there, and he went down to her. 

"Never mind Kate, " said he. "I told them not to unpack the things untilthey had hauled them to the creek; and I'll take you over to Aunt Judy'sin the buggy. We'll get there by the time the boys arrive. "

CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE ARRIVAL. 

When Kate and her father reached Aunt Judy's cabin, the boys had not yetarrived, but they were anxiously expected by about a dozen coloredpeople of various ages and sizes, and by two or three white men, whowere sitting under the trees waiting to see the "telegraph come. "

Telegraph apparatus and wires were not at all novel in that part of thecountry, but this was to be the first time that anything of the kind hadbeen set up in that neighborhood, in those familiar old woods aboutCrooked Creek. 

And then it must be remembered, too, that most of these interestedpeople were "stockholders. " That was something entirely novel, and it isno wonder that they were anxious to see their property. 

"I hopes, Mah'sr John, " said Aunt Judy to Mr. Loudon, "dat dem darmerchines ain't a-goin' to bust up when dey're lef' h'yar all alone bytheyselves. "

"Oh, there's no danger, Aunt Judy, " said Mr. Loudon, "if you don'tmeddle with them. But I suppose you can't do that, if the boys are goingto case them up, as they told me they intended doing. "

"Why, bress your soul, Mah'sr John, ye needn't be 'fraid o' my techin''em off. I wouldn't no more put a finger on 'em dan I'd pull de triggerov a hoss pistol. "

"There isn't really any danger in having these instruments in the house, is there, father?" asked Kate, when she and Mr. Loudon had stepped outof the cabin where Aunt Judy was busy sweeping and "putting things torights" in honor of the expected arrival. 

"That depends upon circumstances, " said Mr. Loudon. "If the boys arecareful to disconnect the instruments and the wires when they leave thecabins, there is no more danger than there would be in a brass clock. But if they leave the wires attached to the instruments, lightning mightbe attracted into the cabins during a thunder-storm, and Aunt Judy mightfind the 'merchines' quite as dangerous as a horse-pistol. "

"But they mustn't leave the wires that way, " said Kate. "I sha'n't letHarry forget it. Why, it would be awful to have Aunt Judy and poor oldLewston banged out of their beds in the middle of the night. "

"I should think so, " said Mr. Loudon; "but the boys--I am sure aboutHarry--understand their business, to that extent, at least. I don'tapprehend any accidents of that kind. "

Kate was just about to ask her father if he feared accidents of anykind, when a shout was heard from the negroes by the roadside. 

"Dar dey come!" sang out half-a-dozen voices, and, sure enough, therewas the wagon slowly turning an angle of the road, with the mountedmembers of the Board riding close by its side. 

All now was bustle and eagerness. Everybody wanted to do something, andeverybody wanted to see. The wagon was driven up as close to the cabinas the trees would allow; the boys jumped down from their seats andsaddles the horses' bridles were fastened to branches overhead; white, black, and yellow folks clustered around the wagon; and some twentyhands were proffered to aid in carrying the load into the cabin. 

Harry was the grand director of affairs. He had a good, loud voice, andit served him well on this important occasion. 

"Look out, there!" he cried. "Don't any of you touch a box or anything, till I tell you what to do. They're not all to go into Aunt Judy'scabin. Some things are to go across the creek to Lewston's house. Here, John William and Gregory, take this table and carry it in carefully; andyou, Dick, take that chair. Don't be in a hurry. We're not going to openthe boxes out here. "

"Why, Harry, " cried Kate, "I didn't know there were to be tables andchairs. "

"To tell the truth, I didn't think of it either, " said Harry; "but wemust have something to put our instruments on, and something to sit onwhile we work them. Mr. Lyons reminded us that we'd have to have them, and we got these in Hetertown. Had to go to three places to get themall, and one's borrowed, anyway. Look out there, you, Bobby! you can'tcarry a chair. Get down off that wheel before you break your neck. 

"Lor' bress your heart, Mah'sr Harry, is ye got a bed? I never did'spect ye was a-goin' to bring furniture, " cried Aunt Judy, her eyesrolling up and down in astonishment and delight. "Dat's a pooty cheer. Won't hurt a body to sot in dat cheer when you all ain't a-usin' it, will it?"

"Blow you right through the roof, if you set on the trigger, " said TomSelden; "so mind you're careful, Aunt Judy. "

"Now, then, " cried Harry, "carry in this box. Easy, now. We'll take allthe wire over on the other side. You see, Tom, that they leave the wirein the wagon. Do you know, father, that we forgot to bring a hammer oranything to open these boxes?"

"There's a hammer under the seat of the buggy. One of you boys run andget it. "

At the word, two negro boys rushed for the buggy and the hammer. 

"A screw-driver would do better, " said Harvey Davis. 

"One-eyed Lewston's got a screw-driver, " said one of the men. 

"Dar Lewston!" cried John William Webster. "Dar he! Jist comin' ober debridge. "

"Shet up!" cried Aunt Judy. "Don't 'spect he got him screw-driber in himbreeches pocket, does ye? Why don' ye go 'long and git it?"

And away went John William and two other boys for the screw-driver. 

In spite of so many cooks, the broth was not spoiled; and after areasonable time the beautifully polished instruments were displayed toview on the table in Aunt Judy's cabin. 

Everybody looked with all their eyes. Even Mr. Loudon, who had oftenexamined telegraphic apparatus, took a great interest in this, and thenegroes thought there was never anything so wonderful. Especially werethose delighted who owned stock. 

"Some o' dat dar's mine, " said a shiny-faced black boy. "Wonder ef datlittle door-knob's my sheer. "

"You go 'long, dar, " said Dick Ford, giving him a punch in the ribs withhis elbow. "Dat little shiny screw's 'bout as much as you own. "

As for the members of the Board, they were radiant. There was thetelegraphic apparatus (or a part of it) of the Crooked Creek TelegraphCompany, and here were the officers!

Each one of them, except Brandeth Price, explained some portion of theinstruments to some of the bystanders. 

As for Brandeth, he had not an idea what was to be done with anything. But he had a vote in the Board. He never forgot that. 

"Can't ye work it a little, Mah'sr Harry!" asked Gregory Montague. 

"Dat's so!" cried a dozen voices. "Jist let's see her run a little, Mah'sr Harry, please!" Even Kate wanted to see how the things worked. 

Harry explained that he couldn't "run it" until he had arranged thebattery and had made a great many preparations, and he greatlydisappointed the assembly by informing them that all that was to be donethat day was to put the instruments in their respective houses (orstations, as the boys now began to call the cabins), and to put up thecases which were to protect them when not in use. These cases were likesmall closets, with movable tops, and there was great fear that theywould not fit over the tables that had been brought from Hetertown. 

On the next day, Mr. Lyons had promised to come over and show them howto begin the work. 

"There'll be plenty for you fellows to do, " said Harry, "when we put upthe wires. "

CHAPTER XIX. 

CONSTRUCTING THE LINE. 

The next day was a day of hard work for the Board of Managers. Mr. Lyons, who took the greatest interest in the enterprise, got anotheroperator to take his place at the Hetertown station, and came over tohelp the boys. 

Under his direction, and with his help, they arranged the instrumentsand the batteries, sunk the ground-wires, and, in a general way, put theoffice-apparatus in working order. When night came, there were stillsome things that remained to be done in the two stations, but the mainpart of the office arrangements had been satisfactorily concluded, underMr. Lyons's supervision. 

Now, it only remained to put up the wire; and this was a piece of workthat interested the whole neighborhood. There had been lookers-on enoughwhile the instruments were being put in working order, but the generalmind did not comprehend the mechanism and uses of registers and keys andbatteries. 

Any one, however, could understand how a telegraphic wire was put up. And what was more, quite a number of persons thought they knew exactlyhow it ought to be put up, and made no scruple of saying so. 

Tony Kirk was on hand--as it was not turkey season--and he madehimself quite useful. Having had some experience in working undersurveyors, he gave the boys a good deal of valuable advice, and, whatwas of quite as much service, he proved very efficient in quieting thezeal of some ambitious, but undesirable, volunteer assistants. 

Certain straight pine-trees, at suitable distances from each other, and, as nearly as possible, on a right line between the two cabins, wereselected as poles, and their tops were cut off about twenty-five feetfrom the ground. All trees and branches that would be apt to interferewith the wires were cut down, out of the way. 

At one time--for this matter of putting up the wire occupied severaldays--there were ten or twelve negro men engaged in cutting down trees, and in topping and trimming telegraph poles. 

Each one of these men received forty cents per day from the company, andfound themselves. It is probable that if the Board had chosen to pay buttwenty cents, there would have been quite as many laborers, for this wasnovel and very interesting work, and several farm-hands threw up theirsituations for a day or two and came over to "cut fur de telegraph. "

When the poles were all ready on each side of the creek, the insulators, or glass knobs, to which the wires were to be attached, were to befastened to them, a foot or two from the top. 

This was to be done under Harry's direction, who had studied up thetheory of the operation from his books and under Mr. Lyons. 

But the actual work proved very difficult. The first few insulatorsHarry put up himself. He was a good climber, but not being provided withthe peculiar "climbers" used by the men who put up telegraph wires, hefound it very hard to stay up at the top of a pole after he had gotthere, especially as he needed both hands to nail to the tree the woodenblock to which the insulator was attached. 

In fact, he made a bad business of it, and the insulators he put up inthis way looked "shackling poorly, " to say nothing of his trowsers, which suffered considerably every time he slipped part way down a pole. 

But here Tony Kirk again proved himself a friend in need. He got awagon, and drove four miles to a farm-house, where there was a long, light ladder. This he borrowed, and brought over to the scene ofoperation. 

This ladder was not quite long enough to reach to the height at whichHarry had fastened his insulators, but it was generally agreed thatthere was no real necessity for putting them up so high. 

The ladder was arranged by Tony in a very ingenious way. He laid it onthe ground, with the top at the root of the tree to be climbed. Then hefastened a piece of telegraph wire to one side of the ladder, passed itloosely around the tree, and fastened it to the other side. Then, as theladder was gradually raised, the wire slipped along up the tree, andwhen the ladder was in position it could not fall, although it mightshake and totter a little. However, strong arms at the bottom held itpretty steady, and Harry was enabled to nail on his insulators withcomparative ease, and in a very satisfactory manner. 

After a while, Tony took his place, and being a fellow whom it wasalmost impossible to tire, he finished the whole business withoutassistance. 

It may be remarked that when Tony mounted the ladder, he dispensed withthe wire safeguard, depending upon the carefulness of the two negro menwho held the ladder from below. 

The next thing was to put up the wire itself, and this was done inrather a bungling manner, if this wire were compared with that ofordinary telegraph lines. 

It was found quite impossible to stretch the wire tightly between thepoles, as the necessary appliances were wanting. 

Various methods of tightening were tried, but none were very successful;and the wire hung in curves, some greater and some less, between thepoles. 

But what did it matter? There was plenty of wire, and the wind had notmuch chance to blow it about, as it was protected by the neighboringtreetops. 

There was no trouble in carrying the wire over the creek, as the bridgewas very near, and as trees close to each bank had been chosen forpoles, and as the creek was not very wide, the wire approached nearer toa straight line where it passed over the water than it did anywhereelse. 

At last all was finished. The "main line" wire was attached to thecopper office-wire. The batteries were charged, the register wasarranged with its paper strip, and everything was ready for thetransmission of messages across Crooked Creek. 

At least, the Board hoped that everything was ready. It could not becertain until a trial was made. 

The trial was made, and everybody in the neighborhood, who could getaway from home came to see it made. 

Harry was at the instrument on the Akeville side, and Mr. Lyons (thesecond operator of the company had not been appointed) attended to theother end of the line, taking his seat at the table in Aunt Judy'scabin, where Mr. And Mrs. Loudon, Kate, and as many other persons as theroom would hold, were congregated. 

As President of the company, Harry claimed the privilege of sending thefirst message. 

Surrounded by the Board, and a houseful of people besides, he took hisseat at the instrument, and after looking about him to see if everythingwas in proper order, he touched the key to "call" the operator at theother end. 

But no answer came. Something was wrong. Harry tried again, but still noanswer. He jumped up and examined the instrument and the battery. 

Everybody had something to say, and some advice to give. 

Even old "One-eyed Lewston" pushed his way up to Harry, and exclaimed:

"Oh, Mah'sr Harry! Ef you want to grease her, I got some hog's-lard updar on dat shelf. "

But Harry soon thought he found where the fault lay, and, adjusting ascrew or two, he tried the key again. This time his call was answered. 

"Click! click! click! click!" went the instrument. 

Wild with excitement, everybody crowded closer to Harry, who, withsomewhat nervous fingers, slowly sent over the line of the Crooked CreekTelegraph Company its first message. 

When received on the other side, and translated from the dots and dashesof the register, it read thus:

 To Kate. --Ho-ow are you?

Directly the answer came swiftly from the practised fingers of Mr. Lyons:

 To Harry. --I am very well. 

This message had no sooner been received and announced than Harry, followed by every one else, rushed out of the house, and there, on theother side of the creek, he saw his father and mother and Kate and allthe rest hurrying out of Aunt Judy's cabin. 

Mr. Loudon waved his hat and shouted; "Hurrah!"

Harry and the Board answered with a wild "Hurrah!"

Then everybody took it up, and the woods rang with, "Hurrah! hurrah!hurrah!"

The Crooked Creek Telegraph Line was a success. 

CHAPTER XX. 

AN IMPORTANT MEETING OF THE BOARD. 

Now that the telegraphic line was built, and in good working order, itbecame immediately necessary to appoint another operator, for it wasquite evident that Harry could not work both ends of the line. 

It was easy enough to appoint an operator, but not so easy for suchperson to work the instruments. In fact, Harry was the only individualin the company or the neighborhood who understood the duties of atelegrapher, and his opportunities for practice had been exceedinglylimited. 

It was determined to educate an operator, and Harvey Davis was chosen asthe most suitable individual for the position. So, day after day wasspent by Harry and Harvey, the one in the cabin of "One-eyed Lewston, "and the other in that of Aunt Judy, in steady, though oftenunsatisfactory, practice in the transmission and reading of telegraphicmessages. 

Of course, great interest was taken in their progress, and some membersof the Board were generally present at one or the other of the stations. Kate often came over to Aunt Judy's cabin, and almost always there wereother persons present, each of whom, whenever there was a chance, waseager to send a telegraphic message gratis, even if it were only acrossCrooked Creek. 

Sometimes neither Harry nor Harvey could make out what the other one wastrying to say, and then they would run out of the station and go down tothe bank of the creek and shout across for explanations. A great manymore intelligible messages were sent in this way, for the first fewdays, than were transmitted over the wire. 

Tony Kirk remarked, after a performance of this kind, "It 'pears to methat it wasn't no use to put up that ar wire, fur two fellows could abeen app'inted, one to stand on each side o' the creek, and holler themessages across. "

But, of course, such a proceeding would have been extremely irregular. Tony was not accustomed to the strict requirements of business. 

Sometimes the messages were extremely complicated. For instance, Harry, one day about noon, carefully telegraphed the following:

 I would not go home. Perhaps you can get something to eat from Aunt Judy. 

As Harvey translated this, it read:

 I would gph go rapd gradsvlt bodgghip rda goqbsjcm eat dkpx Aunt Judy. 

In answer to this, Harvey attempted to send the following message:

 What do you mean by eating Aunt Judy?

But Harry read:

 Whatt a xdll mean rummmlgigdd Ju!

Harry thought, of course, that this seemed like a reflection on hismotives in proposing that Harvey could ask Aunt Judy to give himsomething to eat, and so, of course, there had to be explanations. 

After a time, however the operators became much more expert, andalthough Harvey was always a little slow, he was very careful and verypatient--most excellent qualities in an operator upon such a line. 

The great desire now, not only among the officers of the company, butwith many other folks in Akeville and the neighborhood, was to see thecreek "up, " so that travel across it might be suspended, and thetelegraphic business commence. 

To be sure, there might be other interests with which a rise in thecreek would interfere, but they, of course, were considered of smallimportance, compared with the success of an enterprise like this. 

But the season was very dry, and the creek very low. There were placeswhere a circus-man could have jumped across it with all his pockets fullof telegraphic messages. 

In the mean time, the affairs of the company did not look veryflourishing. The men who assisted in the construction of the line hadnot been paid in full, and they wanted their money. Kate reported thatthe small sum which had been appropriated out of the capital stock forthe temporary support of Aunt Matilda was all gone. This report she madein her capacity as a special committee of one, appointed (by herself) toattend to the wants of Aunt Matilda. As the Treasurer of the company, she also reported that there was not a cent in its coffers. 

In this emergency, Harry called a meeting of the Board. 

It met, as this was an important occasion, in Davis's corn-house, fortunately now empty. This was a cool, shady edifice, and, thoughrather small, was very well ventilated. The meetings had generally beenheld under some big tree, or in various convenient spots in the woodsnear the creek, but nothing of that kind would be proper for such ameeting as this, especially as Kate, as Treasurer, was to be present. This was her first appearance at a meeting of the Board. The boys sat onthe corn-house floor, which had been nicely swept out by John WilliamWebster, and Kate had a chair on the grass, just outside of the door. There she could hear and see with great comfort without "settin' on thefloor with a passel of boys, " as Miss Eliza Davis, who furnished thechair, elegantly expressed it. 

When the meeting had been called to order (and John William, who evinceda desire to hang around and find out what was going on, had beendischarged from further attendance on the Board, or, in other words, hadbeen ordered to "clear out"), and the minutes of the last meeting hadbeen read, and the Treasurer had read her written report, and theSecretary had read his, an air of despondency seemed to settle upon theassembly. 

An empty corn-house seemed, as Tom Selden remarked, a very excellentplace for them to meet. 

The financial condition of the company was about as follows:

It owed "One-eyed Lewston" and Aunt Judy one dollar each for one month'srent of their homesteads as stations, the arrangement having been madeabout the time the instruments were ordered. 

It owed four dollars and twenty cents to the wood-cutters who worked onthe construction of the line, and two dollars and a half for otherassistance at that time. 

("Wish we had done it all ourselves, " said Wilson Ogden. )

It owed three dollars, balance on furniture procured at Hetertown. (Italso owed one chair, borrowed. )

It owed, for spikes and some other hardware procured at the store, onedollar and sixty cents. 

In addition to this, it owed John William Webster, who had been employedas a sort of general agent to run errands and clean up things, seventy-five cents--balance of salary--and he wanted his money. 

To meet these demands, as was before remarked, they had nothing. 

Fortunately nothing was owing for Aunt Matilda's support, Harry and Katehaving from the first determined never to run in debt on her account. 

But, unfortunately, poor Aunt Matilda's affairs were never in so bad acondition. The great interest which Kate and Harry had taken in thetelegraph line had prevented them from paying much attention to theirordinary methods of making money, and now that the company'sappropriation was spent, there seemed to be no immediate method ofgetting any money for the old woman's present needs. 

This matter was not strictly the business of the Board, but theynevertheless considered it. 

CHAPTER XXI. 

A LAST RESORT. 

The Board was fully agreed that something must be done to relieve AuntMatilda's present necessities, but what to do did not seem very clear. 

Wilson Ogden proposed issuing some kind of scrip or bonds, redeemable insix or seven months, when the company should be on a paying basis. 

"I believe, " said he, "that Mr. Darby would take these bonds at thestore for groceries and things, and we might pay him interest, besidesredeeming the bonds when they came due. "

This was rather a startling proposition. No one had suspected Wilson ofhaving such a financial mind. 

"I don't know, " said Harry, "how that would work. Mr. Darby might not bewilling to take the bonds; and besides that, it seems to me that thecompany ought not to make any more promises to pay when it owes so muchalready. "

"But you see that would be different, " said Wilson. "What we owe now weought to pay right away. The bonds would not have to be paid for ever solong. "

"That may be pretty sharp reasoning, " remarked Tom Selden, "but I can'tsee into it. "

"It would be all the same as running in debt for Aunt Matilda, wouldn'tit?" asked Kate. 

"Yes, " said Wilson, "a kind of running in debt, but not exactly thecommon way. You see--"

"But if it's any kind at all, I'm against it, " said Kate, quickly. "We're not going to support Aunt Matilda that way. "

This settled the matter. To be sure, Kate had no vote in the Board; butthis was a subject in which she had what might be considered to be acontrolling interest, and the bond project was dropped. 

Various schemes were now proposed, but there were objections to all ofthem. Everyone was agreed that it was very unfortunate that thisemergency should have arisen just at this time, because as soon as thecompany got into good working order, and the creek had been up a fewtimes it was probable that Aunt Matilda would really have more moneythan she would absolutely need. 

"You ought to look out, Harry and Kate, " said Harvey Davis, "that allthe darkies she knows don't come and settle down on her and live offher. She's a great old woman for having people around her, even now. "

"Well, " said Kate, "she has a right to have company if she wants to, andcan afford it. "

"Yes, " said Tom Selden; "but having company's very different from havinga lot of good-for-nothing darkies eating her out of house and home. "

"She won't have anything of that sort, " said Harry. "I'll see that hermoney's spent right. "

"But if it's her money, " said Harvey, "she can spend it as she chooses. "

A discussion here followed as to the kind of influence that ought to bebrought to bear upon Aunt Matilda to induce her to make a judicious useof her income; but Harry soon interrupted the arguments, with the remarkthat they had better not bother themselves about what Aunt Matildashould do with her money when she got it, until they had found out someway of preventing her from starving to death while she was waiting forit. 

This was evidently good common sense, but it put a damper on the spiritsof the Board. 

There was nothing new to be said on the main question, and it was nowgrowing toward supper-time; so the meeting adjourned. 

On their way home, Harry said to Kate, "Has Aunt Matilda anything to eatat all?"

"Oh yes; she has enough for her supper to-night, and for breakfast, too, if nobody comes to see her. But that's all. "

"All right, then, " said Harry. 

"I don't think it is all right, " replied Kate. "What's two meals, I'dlike to know?"

"Two meals are very good things, provided you don't take them both atonce, " said Harry. And he began to whistle. 

The next day, Harry went off and staid until dinner-time. 

Kate could not imagine where he had gone. He was not with the Board, sheknew, for Harvey Davis had been inquiring for him. 

Just before dinner he made his appearance. 

Kate was in the house, but he hurried her out under the catalpa-tree. 

"Look here!" said he, putting his hand in his pocket and pulling outseveral "greenbacks. " "I reckon that'll keep Aunt Matilda until thecompany begins to make money. "

Kate opened her eyes their very widest. 

"Why, where on earth did you get all that money, Harry? Is it yours?"

"Of course it's mine, " said Harry. "I sold my gun. "

"Oh, Harry!" and the tears actually came into Kate's eyes. 

"Well, I wouldn't cry about it, " said Harry. "There's nothing to shootnow; and when we get rich I can buy it back again, or get another. "

"Got rich!" said Kate. "I don't see how we're going to do that;especially when it's such dreadfully dry weather. "

CHAPTER XXII. 

A QUANDARY. 

About a week after the meeting of the Board in the Davis corn-house, oldMiles, the mail-rider, came galloping up to Mr. Loudon's front gate. Thefamily were at breakfast, but Harry and Kate jumped up and ran to thedoor, when they saw Miles coming, with his saddle-bags flapping behindhim. No one had ever before seen Miles ride so fast. A slow trot, orrather a steady waddle, was the pace that he generally preferred. 

"Hello, Mah'sr Harry, " shouted old Miles, "de creek's up! Can't gitacross dar, no how?"

This glorious news for the Crooked Creek Telegraph Company was, indeed, true! There had been wet weather for several days, and although therain-fall had not been great in the level country about Akeville, it hadbeen very heavy up among the hills; and the consequence was, that theswollen hill-streams, or "branches" as they are called in that part ofthe country, had rushed down and made Crooked Creek rise in a hurry. Itseemed to be always ready to rise in this way, whenever it had a chance. 

Now the company could go to work! Now it could show the world, or asmuch of the world as chose to take notice, the advantages of having atelegraph line across a creek in time of freshets. 

Harry was all alive with excitement. He sent for Harvey Davis, and hadold Selim saddled as quickly as possible. 

"H'yar's de letters and telegrums, Mah'sr Harry, " said Miles, unlockinghis saddle-bags and taking out a bundle of letters and some telegrams, written on the regular telegraphic blanks and tied up in a littlepackage. 

As the mail was a private one, and old Miles was known to be perfectlyhonest, he carried the key and attended personally to the locking andunlocking of his saddle-bags. 

"But I don't want the letters, Miles, " said Harry. "I've nothing to dowith them. Give me the telegrams, and I'll send them across. "

"Don't want de letters?" cried Miles, his eyes and mouth wide open inastonishment. "Why, I can't carry de letters ober no mor'n I kin detelegrams. "

"Well, neither can I, " said Harry. 

"Den what's de use ob dat wire?" exclaimed Miles. "I thought you uns udsend de letters an' all ober dat wire? Dere's lots more letters dantelegrums. "

"I know that, " said Harry, hurriedly; "but we can't send letters. Givethe telegraphic messages, and you go back to the mines with the letters, and if there's anything in them that they want to telegraph, let themwrite out the messages, and you bring them over to Lewston's cabin. "

Harry took the telegrams, and old Miles rode off, very much disturbed inhis mind. His confidence in the utility of the telegraph company waswofully shaken. 

By this time Harvey had arrived on a mule, and the two operators dashedaway as fast as their animals would carry them. 

As they galloped along Harry shouted to Harvey, who kept ahead most ofthe time, for his mule was faster than Selim:

"Hello, Harvey! If Miles couldn't get across, how can either of us goover?"

"Oh, I reckon the creek isn't much up yet, " answered Harvey. "Miles iseasily frightened. "

So, on they rode, hoping for the best; but when they reached the creekthey saw, to their dismay, that the water was much higher already thanit usually rose in the summer-time. The low grounds on each side wereoverflowed, and nothing could be seen of the bridge but the tops of twoupright timbers near its middle. 

It was certainly very unfortunate that both the operators were on thesame side of the stream!

"This is a pretty piece of business, " cried Harry. "I didn't expect thecreek to get up so quickly as this. I was down here yesterday, and ithadn't risen at all. I tell you, Harvey, you ought to live on the otherside. "

"Or else you ought, " said Harvey. 

"No, " said Harry; "this is my station. "

Harvey had no answer ready for this, but as they were hurriedlyfastening Selim and the mule to trees near Lewston's cabin, he said:

"Perhaps Mr. Lyons may come down and work the other end of the line. "

"He can't get off, " said Harry. "He has his own office to attend to. And, besides, that wouldn't do. We must work our own line, especially atthe very beginning. It would look nice--now, wouldn't it?--to waituntil Mr. Lyons could come over from Hetertown before we could commenceoperations!"

"Well, what can we do?" asked Harvey. 

"Why, one of us must get across, somehow. "

"I don't see how it's going to be done, " said Harvey, as they ran downto the edge of the water. "I reckon we'll have to holler our messagesacross, as Tony said; only there isn't anybody to holler to. "

"I don't know how it's to be done either, " said Harry; "but one of usmust get over, some way or other. "

"Couldn't we wade to the bridge, " asked Harvey, "and then walk over onit? I don't believe it's more than up to our waists on the bridge. "

"You don't know how deep it is, " said Harry; "and when you get to thebridge, ten to one more than half the planks have been floated off, andyou'd go slump to the bottom of the creek before you knew it. There's noway but to get a boat. "

"I don't know where you're going to find one, " said Harvey. "There's aboat up at the mill-pond, but you couldn't get it out and down here inmuch less than a day. "

"John Walker has his boat afloat again, " said Harry, "but that's over onthe other side. What a nuisance it is that there isn't anybody overthere! If we didn't want 'em, there'd be about sixty or seventy darkieshanging about now. "

"Oh, no!" said Harvey, "not so many as that; not over forty-seven. "

"I'm going over to Lewston's. Perhaps he knows of a boat, " said Harry;and away he ran. 

But Lewston was not in his cabin, and so Harry hurried along a road inthe woods that led by another negro cabin about a half-mile away, thinking that the old man had gone off in that direction. Every minuteor two he shouted at the top of his voice, "Oh, Lewston!"

Very soon he heard some one shouting in reply, and he recognizedLewston's voice. It seemed to come from the creek. 

Thereupon, Harry made his way through the trees and soon caught sight ofthe old colored man. He was in a boat, poling his way along in theshallow water as close to dry land as the woods allowed him, andsometimes, where the trees were wide apart, sending the boat rightbetween some of their tall trunks. 

"Hello, Lewston, " cried Harry, running as near as he could go withoutgetting his shoes wet, for the water ran up quite a distance among thetrees in some places. "What are you about? Where did you get that boat?I want a boat. "

"Dat's jist what I thought, Mah'sr Harry, " said Lewston, still polingaway as hard as he could. "I know de compuny'd want to git ober decreek, an' I jist went up to Hiram Anderson's and borrowed his ole boat. Ise been a-bailing her out all de mornin'. "

"You're a trump, Lewston, " said Harry. "Pole her down opposite yourhouse, and then one of us will go over. Why don't you go out farther?You can't get along half as fast in here by the trees and hummocks asyou could in deeper water. "

"You don't ketch me out dar in dat runnin' water, " said Lewston. "I'd bein the middle afore I knowed it, and dis pole's pooty short. "

"Well, come along as fast as you can, " cried Harry, "and I'll run downto your house and get your axe to cut a longer pole. "

By the time Harry had found a tall young sapling, and had cut it downand trimmed it off, Lewston arrived with the boat. 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

CROSSING THE CREEK. 

"Now, then, " said Harry, "here's the boat and a good pole, and you'venothing to do, Harvey, but just to get in and push yourself over to yourstation as fast as you can. "

But the situation did not seem to strike Harvey very favorably. Helooked rather dissatisfied with the arrangement made for him. 

"I can't swim, " he said. "At least, not much, you know. "

"Well, who wants you to swim?" said Harry, laughing. "That's a prettyjoke. Are you thinking of swimming across, and towing the boat afteryou? You can push her over easy enough; that pole will reach the bottomanywhere. "

"Dat's so, " said old Lewston. "It'll touch de bottom ob de water, but Idon't know 'bout de bottom ob de mud. Ye musn't push her down too deep. Dar's 'bout as much mud as water out dar in de creek. "

The more they talked about the matter, the greater became Harvey'sdisinclination to go over. He was not a coward, but he was not used tothe water or the management of a boat, and the trip seemed much moredifficult to him than it would have appeared to a boy accustomed toboating. 

"I tell you what we'll do, " cried Harry, at last. "You take my station, Harvey, and I'll go over and work your end of the line. "

There was no opposition to this plan, and so Harry hurried off withHarvey to Lewston's cabin and helped him to make the connections and getthe line in working order at that end, and then he ran down to the boat, jumped in, and Lewston pushed him off. 

Harry poled the boat along quite easily through the shallow water, andwhen he got farther out he found that he proceeded with still greaterease, only he did not go straight across, but went a little too muchdown stream. 

But he pushed out strongly toward the opposite shore, and soon reachedthe middle of the creek. Then he began to go down stream very fastindeed. Push and pole as he would, he seemed to have no control whateverover the boat. He had had no idea that the current would be so strong. 

On he went, right down toward the bridge, and as the boat swept over it, one end struck an upright beam that projected above the water, and theclumsy craft was jerked around with such violence that Harry nearlytumbled into the creek. 

He heard Lewston and Harvey shouting to him, but he paid no attention tothem. He was working with all his strength to get the boat out of thecurrent and into shallower water. But as he found that he was not ableto do that, he made desperate efforts to stop the boat by thrusting hispole into the bottom. It was not easy to get the pole into the mud, thecurrent was so strong; but he succeeded at last, by pushing it out infront of him, in forcing it into the bottom; and then, in a moment, itwas jerked out of his hand, as the boat swept on, and, a second time, hecame near tumbling overboard. 

Now he was helpless. No, there was the short pole that Lewston had leftin the boat. 

He picked it up, but he could do nothing with it. If it had been an oar, now, it might have been of some use. He tried to pull up the seat, butit was nailed fast. 

On he rapidly floated, down the middle of the stream; the boat sometimessidewise, sometimes with one end foremost, and sometimes the other. Verysoon he lost sight of Lewston and Harvey, and the last he saw of themthey were hurrying by the edge of the water, in the woods. Now he satdown, and looked about him. The creek appeared to be getting wider andwider, and he thought that if he went on at that rate he must soon cometo the river. The country seemed unfamiliar to him. He had never seenit, from the water, when it was overflowed in this way. 

He passed a wide stretch of cultivated fields, mostly planted intobacco, but he could not recollect what farmer had tobacco down by thecreek this year. There were some men at work on a piece of risingground, but they were a long way off. Still, Harry shouted to them, butthey did not appear to hear him. 

Then he passed on among the trees again, bumping against stumps, turningand twisting, but always keeping out in the middle of the current. Hebegan to be very uneasy, especially as he now saw, what he had notnoticed before, that the boat was leaking badly. 

He made up his mind that he must do something soon, even if he had totake off his clothes and jump in and try to swim to shore. But this, hewas well aware, would be hard work in such a current. 

Looking hurriedly around, he saw, a short distance before him, a treethat appeared to stand almost in the middle of the creek, with its lowerbranches not very high above the water. The main current swirled aroundthis tree, and the boat was floating directly toward it. 

Harry's mind was made up in an instant. He stood up on the seat, and asthe boat passed under the tree he seized the lowest branch. 

In a moment the boat was jerked from under his feet, and he hungsuspended over the rushing water. 

He gripped the branch with all his strength, and giving his legs aswing, got his feet over it. Then, after two or three attempts, hemanaged to draw himself up and get first one leg and then his whole bodyover the branch. Then he sat up and shuffled along to the trunk, againstwhich he leaned with one arm around it, all in a perspiration, andtrembling with the exertion and excitement. 

When he had rested awhile, he stood up on the limb and looked toward theland. There, to his joy, he saw, at a little distance, a small log-house, and there was some one living in it, for he saw smoke coming from thelog and mud chimney that was built up against one end of the cabin. 

Harry gave a great shout, and then another, and another, and presently anegro woman came out of the cabin and looked out over the creek. Thenthree colored children came tumbling out, and they looked out over thecreek. 

Then Harry shouted again, and the woman saw him. 

"Hello, dar!" she cried. "Who's dat?"

"It's me! Harry Loudon. "

"Harry Loudon?" shouted the woman, running down to the edge of thewater. "Mah'sr John Loudon's son Harry? What you doin' dar? Is youfishin'?"

"Fishing!" cried Harry. "No! I want to get ashore. Have you a boat?"

"A boat! Lors a massy! I got no boat, Mah'sr Harry. How did ye git dar?"

"Oh, I got adrift, and my boat's gone! Isn't there any man about?"

"No man about here, " said the woman. "My ole man's gone off to derailroad. But he'll be back dis evenin'. "

"I can't wait here till he comes, " cried Harry. "Haven't you a rope andsome boards to make a raft?"

"Lor', no! Mah'sr Harry. I got no boards. "

"Tell ye what ye do, dar, " shouted the biggest boy, a woolly-headyurchin, with nothing on but a big pair of trousers that came up underhis arms and were fastened over his shoulders by two bits of string, "jist you come on dis side and jump down, an' slosh ashore. "

"It's too deep, " cried Harry. 

"No, 'tain't, " said the boy. "I sloshed out to dat tree dis mornin'. "

"You did, you Pomp!" cried his mother. "Oh! I'll lick ye fur dat, when Igit a-hold of ye!"

"Did you, really?" cried Harry. 

"Yes, I did, " shouted the undaunted Pomp. "I sloshed out dar an' backagin. "

"But the water's higher now, " said Harry. 

"No, 'tain't, " said the woman. "Tain't riz much dis mornin'. Done all derisin' las' night. Dat tree's jist on de edge of de creek bank. If Pompcould git along dar, you kin, Mah'sr Harry! Did ye go out dar, sure'nuff, you Pomp? Mind, if ye didn't, I'll lick ye!"

"Yes, I did, " said Pomp; "clar out dar an' back agin. "

"Then I'll try it, " cried Harry; and clambering around the trunk of thetree, he jumped off as far as he could toward shore. 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

THE FIRST BUSINESS TELEGRAMS. 

When Harry jumped from the tree, he came down on his feet, in water notquite up to his waist, and then he pushed in toward land as fast as hecould go. In a few minutes, he stood in the midst of the colored family, his trousers and coat-tails dripping, and his shoes feeling like a pairof wet sponges. 

"Ye ought to have rolled up yer pants and tooked off yer shoes andstockin's afore ye jumped, Mah'sr Harry, " said the woman. 

"I wish I had taken off my shoes, " said Harry. 

The woman at whose cabin Harry found himself was Charity Allen, and agood, sensible woman she was. She made Harry hurry into the house, andshe got him her husband's Sunday trousers, which she had just washed andironed, and insisted on his putting them on, while she dried his own. She hung his stockings and his coat before the fire, and made one of theboys rub his shoes with a cloth so as to dry them as much as possiblebefore putting them near the fire. 

Harry was very impatient to be off, but Charity was so certain that hewould catch his death of cold if he started before his clothes were drythat he allowed himself to be persuaded to wait. 

And then she fried some salt pork, on which, with a great piece ofcorn-bread, he made a hearty meal, for he was very hungry. 

"Have you had your dinner, Charity?" he asked. 

"Oh, yes, Mah'sr Harry; long time ago, " she said. 

"Then it must be pretty late, " said Harry, anxiously. 

"Oh, no!" said she; "'tain't late. I reckon it can't be much mor' 'nfour o'clock. "

"Four o'clock!" shouted Harry, jumping up in such a hurry that he nearlytripped himself in Uncle Oscar's trousers, which were much too long forhim. "Why, that's dreadfully late. Where can the day have gone? I mustbe off, instantly!"

So much had happened since morning, that it was no wonder that Harry hadnot noticed how the hours had flown. 

The ride to the creek, the discussions there, the delay in getting theboat, the passage down the stream, which was much longer than Harry hadimagined, and the time he had spent in the tree and in the cabin, had, indeed, occupied the greater part of the day. 

And even now he was not able to start. Though he urged her as much as hecould, he could not make Charity understand that it was absolutelynecessary that he must have his clothes, wet or dry; and he did not getthem until they were fit to put on. And then his shoes were not dry, but, as he intended to run all the way to Aunt Judy's cabin, that didnot matter so much. 

"How far is it to Aunt Judy's?" he asked, when at last he was ready tostart. 

"Well, I reckons it's 'bout six or seben miles, Mah'sr Harry, " saidCharity. 

"Six or seven miles!" exclaimed Harry. "When shall I get there!"

"Now don't hurry and git yese'f all in a heat, " said Charity. "Jist keepalong dis path fru de woods till ye strike de road, and that'll take yestraight to de bridge. Wish I had a mule to len' ye. "

"Good-by, Charity, " cried Harry. "I'm ever so much obliged. " Andhurriedly searching his vest pockets, he found a ten-cent note and a fewpennies, which he gave to the children, who grinned in silent delight, and then he started off on a run. 

But he did not run all the way. 

Before long he began to tire a little, and then he settled down into afast walk. He felt that he must hurry along as fast as he was able. Thefortunes of the Crooked Creek Telegraph Company depended upon him. Ifthe company failed in this, its first opportunity, there was no hope forit. 

So on he walked, and before very long he struck the main road. Here hethought he should be able to get along faster, but there was noparticular reason for it. In fact, the open road was rather rougher thanthat through the woods. But it was cooler here than under the heavy, overhanging trees. 

And now Harry first noticed that the sun was not shining. At least, itwas behind the western hills. It must be growing very late, he thought. 

On he went, for a mile or two, and then it began to grow dusky. Nightwas surely coming on. 

At a turn in the wood, he met a negro boy with a tin bucket on his head. Harry knew him. It was Tom Haskins. 

"Hello, Tom!" said Harry, stopping for a moment; "I want you. "

"What you want, Mah'sr Harry?" asked Tom. 

"I want you to come to Aunt Judy's cabin and carry some messages over toHetertown for me. "

"When you want me?" said Tom; "to-morrer mornin'?"

"No; I want you to-night. This minute. I'll pay you. "

"To-night?" cried the astonished Tom. "Go ober dar in de dark! Can't dodat, Mah'sr Harry. Ise 'fraid to go fru de woods in de dark. "

"Nonsense, " cried Harry. "Nothing's going to hurt you. Come on over. "

"Can't do it, Mah'sr Harry, no how, " said Tom. "Ise got ter tote dishyar buttermilk home; dey's a-waitin' fur it now. But p'r'aps Jim'll gofur you. He kin borrer a mule and go fur you, Mah'sr Harry, I 'spects. "

"Well, tell Jim to get a mule and come to Aunt Judy's just as quick ashe can. I'll pay him right well. "

"Dat's so, Mah'sr Harry; Jim'll go 'long fur ye. I'll tell him. "

"Now be quick about it, " cried Harry. "I'm in a great hurry. " And off hestarted again. 

But as he hurried along, his legs began to feel stiff and his feet weresore. He had walked very fast, so far, but now he was obliged to slackenhis pace. 

And it grew darker and darker. Harry thought he had never seen nightcome on so fast. It was certainly a long distance from Charity's cabinto Aunt Judy's. 

At last he reached the well-known woods near the bridge, and off in alittle opening he saw Aunt Judy's cabin. It was so dark now that hewould not have known it was a cabin, had he not been so familiar withit. 

Curiously enough, there was no light to be seen in the house. Harryhurried to the door and found it shut. He tried to open it, and it waslocked. Had Aunt Judy gone away? She never went away; it was foolish tosuppose such a thing. 

He knocked upon the door, and receiving no answer, he knocked louder, and then he kicked. In a minute or two, during which he kept up acontinual banging and calling on the old woman, he heard a slightmovement inside. Then he knocked and shouted, "Aunt Judy!"

"Who dar!" said a voice within. 

"It's me! Harry Loudon!" cried Harry. "Let me in!"

"What ye want dar?" said Aunt Judy. "Go 'way from dar. "

"I want to come in. Open the door. "

"Can't come in hyar. Ise gone to bed. "

"But I must come in, " cried Harry, in desperation; "I've got to work theline. They're waiting for me. Open the door, do you hear Aunt Judy?"

"Go 'way wid yer line, " said Aunt Judy, crossly. "Ise abed. Come in dermornin'. Time enough in de day-time to work lines. "

Harry now began to get angry. He found a stone and he banged the door. He threatened Aunt Judy with the law. He told her she had no right to goto bed and keep the company out of their station, when the creek was up;but, from her testy answers, his threats seemed to have made but littleimpression upon her. She didn't care if they stopped her pay, or finedher, or sent her to prison. She never heard of "sich bisness, a-wakin'people out of their beds in the middle o' the night fur dem foolin'merchines. "

But Harry's racket had a good effect, after all. It woke Aunt Judy, andafter a time she got out of bed, uncovered the fire, blew up a littleblaze, lighted a candle, and putting on some clothes, came and openedthe door, grumbling all the time. 

"Now den, " said she, holding the candle over her head, and looking likea black Witch of Ender just out of the ground, "What you want?"

"I want to come in, " said Harry. 

"Well, den, come in, " said she. 

Harry was not slow to enter, and having made Aunt Judy bring him twocandles, which he told her the company would pay for, he set to work toget his end of the line in working order. 

When all was ready, he sat down to the instrument and "called" Harvey. 

He felt very anxious as he did this. How could he be sure that Harveywas there? What a long time for that poor fellow to wait, without havingany assurance that Harry would get across the creek at all, much lessreach his post, and go to work. 

"He may suppose I'm drowned, " thought Harry, "and he may have gone hometo tell the folks. "

But there was such a sterling quality about Harvey that Harry could nothelp feeling that he would find him in his place when he telegraphed tohim, no matter how great the delay or how doubtful the passage of thecreek. 

But when he called there was no answer. 

Still he kept the machine steadily ticking. He would not give up hopingthat Harvey was there, although his heart beat fast with nervousanxiety. So far, he had not thought that his family might be frightenedabout him. _He_ knew he was safe, and that had been enough. He had notthought about other people. 

But as these ideas were running through his head and troubling himgreatly, there came a "tick, tick" from the other side, then more ofthem, but they meant nothing. Some one was there who could not work theinstrument. 

Then suddenly came a message:

Is that you, Harry?

Joyfully, Harry answered:

Yes. Who wants to know?

The answer was:

Your father. He has just waked me up. --Harvey. 

With a light heart, Harry telegraphed, as briefly as possible, anaccount of his adventures; and then his father sent a message, tellinghim that the family had heard that he had been carried away, and hadbeen greatly troubled about him, and that men had ridden down the streamafter him, and had not returned, and that he, Mr. Loudon, had just cometo Lewston's cabin, hoping for news by telegraph. Harvey had been thereall day. Mr. Loudon said he would now hurry home with the good news, butbefore bidding his son good night, he told him that he must not think ofreturning until the creek had fallen. He must stay at Aunt Judy's, or goover to Hetertown. 

When this had been promised, and a message sent to his mother and Kate, Harry hastened to business. He telegraphed to Harvey to transmit thecompany's messages as fast as he could; a boy would soon be there totake them over to Hetertown. The answer came:

What messages?

Then Harry suddenly remembered that he had had the messages in thebreast-pocket of his coat all the time!

He dived at his pocket. Yes, there they were!

Was there ever such a piece of absurdity? He had actually carried thosedespatches across the creek! After all the labor and expense of buildingthe telegraph, this had been the way that the first business messageshad crossed Crooked Creek!

When Harry made this discovery he burst out laughing. Why, he might aswell have carried them to Hetertown from Charity's cabin. It wouldreally have been better, for the distance was not so great. 

Although he laughed, he felt a little humiliated. How Tom Selden, andindeed everybody, would laugh if they knew it!

But there was no need to tell everybody, and so when he telegraphed thefact to Harvey, he enjoined secrecy. He knew he could trust Harvey. 

And now he became anxious about Jim. Would he be able to borrow a mule, and would he come?

Every few minutes he went to the door and listened for the sound ofapproaching hoofs, but nothing was to be heard but the low snoring ofAunt Judy, who was fast asleep in a chair by the fireplace. 

While thus waiting, a happy thought came into Harry's head. He openedthe messages--he had a right to do that, of course, as he was anoperator and had undertaken to transmit them--and he telegraphed them, one by one, to Harvey, with instructions to him to send them back tohim. 

"They shall come over the creek on our line, anyway, " said Harry tohimself. 

It did not take long to send them and to receive them again, for therewere only three of them. Then Harvey sent a message, congratulatingHarry on this happy idea, and also suggested that he, Harvey, should nowride home, as it was getting late, and it was not likely that therewould be any more business that night. 

Harry agreed to this, urging Harvey to return early in the morning, andthen he set to work to write out the messages. The company had not yetprovided itself with regular forms, but Harry copied the telegramscarefully on note-paper, with which, with pen and ink, each station wasfurnished, writing them, as far as possible, in the regular form andstyle of the ordinary telegraphic despatch. Then he put them in anenvelope and directed them to Mr. Lyons, at Hetertown, indorsing them, "In haste. To be transmitted to destination immediately. "

"Now then, " thought he, "nobody need know how these came over in thefirst place, until we choose to tell them, and we won't do that untilwe've sent over some messages in the regular way, and have proved thatour line is really of some use. And we won't charge the Mica Companyanything for these despatches. But yet, I don't know about that. Icertainly brought them over, and trouble enough I had to do it. I'll seeabout charging, after I've talked it over with somebody. I reckon I'llask father about that. And I haven't delayed the messages, either; forI've been waiting for Jim. I wonder where that boy can be!" And againHarry went out of doors to listen. 

Had he known that Jim was at that moment fast asleep in his bed at home, Harry need not have gone to the door so often. 

At last our operator began to be very sleepy, and having made up hismind that if Jim arrived he would certainly wake him up, he aroused AuntJudy, who was now too sleepy to scold, and having succeeded in gettingher to lend him a blanket (it was her very best blanket, which she keptfor high days and holidays, and if she had been thoroughly awake shewould not have lent it for the purpose), and having spread it on thefloor, he lay down on it and was soon asleep. 

Aunt Judy blew out one of the candles and set the other on the hearth. Then she stumbled drowsily into the next room and shut the door afterher. In a few minutes every living creature in and about the place wasfast asleep, excepting some tree-frogs and katydids outside, who seemedto have made up their minds to stay up all night. 

CHAPTER XXV. 

PROFITS AND PROJECTS. 

The next morning, Harry was up quite early, and after having eaten avery plain breakfast, which Aunt Judy prepared for him, he ran down tothe creek to see what chance there was for business. 

There seemed to be a very good chance, for the creek had not fallen, that was certain. If there was any change at all, the water seemed alittle higher than it was before. 

Before long, Harvey arrived on the other side, accompanied by Tom Seldenand Wilson Ogden, who were very anxious to see how matters wouldprogress, now that there was some real work to do. 

The boys sent messages and greetings backward and forward to each otherfor about an hour, and then old Miles arrived with his mailbag, whichcontained quite a number of telegrams, this time. 

Not only were there those on the business of the Mica Company, but Mr. Darby, the storekeeper at Akeville, thought it necessary to send amessage to Hetertown by the new line, and there were two or three otherprivate telegrams, that would probably never have been sent had it notbeen for the novelty of the thing. 

But that rascal, Jim Haskins, did not make his appearance, and whenHarry found that it was not likely that he would come at all, he inducedAunt Judy to go out and look for some one to carry the telegrams toHetertown. Harry had just finished copying the messages--and this tooksome time, for he wrote each one of them in official form--when AuntJudy returned, bringing with her a telegraphic messenger. 

It was Uncle Braddock. 

"Here's a man to take yer letters, " said Aunt Judy, as she ushered inthe old man. 

Harry looked up from his table in surprise. 

"Why, Uncle Braddock, " said he, "you can't carry these telegrams. I wanta boy, on a mule or a horse, to go as fast as he can. "

"Lor' bress ye, Mah'sr Harry, " said the old negro, "I kin git along fas'enough. Aunt Judy said ye wanted Jim, an' Nobleses mule; but dat darmule he back hindwards jist about as much as he walks frontwards. I jistkeep right straight along, an' I kin beat dat dar ole mule, all holler. Jist gim me yer letters, an' I'll tote 'em ober dar fur ten cents. Ye seeI wuz cotched on dis side de creek, an' wuz jist comin ober to see AuntJudy, when she telled me ob dis job. I'll tote yer letters, Mah'srHarry, fur ten cents fur de bag-full. "

"I haven't a bag-full, " said Harry; "but I reckon you'll have to takethem. There's nobody else about, it seems, and I can't leave thestation. "

So Uncle Braddock was engaged as telegraph-boy, and Harry havingpromised him twenty cents to go to Hetertown and to return with anytelegrams that were there awaiting transmission to the other side of thecreek, the old man set off with his little package, in high good humorwith the idea of earning money by no harder work than walking a fewmiles. 

Shortly after noon, he returned with a few messages from Hetertown, andby that time there were some for him to carry back. So he made two tripsand forty cents that day--quite an income for Uncle Braddock. 

In the evening, Jim Haskins made his appearance with his mule. He saidhis brother hadn't told him anything about Harry's wanting him untilthat afternoon. Notwithstanding Uncle Braddock's discouraging account ofthe mule, Jim was engaged as messenger during the time that the creekshould be up, and Uncle Braddock was promised a job whenever animportant message should come during Jim's absence. 

The next day it rained, and the creek was up, altogether, for five days. During this time the telegraph company did a good deal of payingbusiness. Harry remained at his station, and boarded and lodged withAunt Judy. He frequently sent messages to his father and mother andKate, and never failed, from an early hour in the morning until dark, tofind the faithful Harvey at his post. 

At last the creek "fell, " and the bridge became again passable to Milesand his waddling horse. The operators disconnected their wires, puttheir apparatus in order, locked the wooden cases over theirinstruments, and rode in triumph (Mr. Loudon had come in the buggy forHarry) to Akeville. 

Harry was received with open arms by his mother and Kate; and Mrs. Loudon declared that this should be the last time that he should go onsuch an expedition. 

She was right. 

The next afternoon there was a meeting of the Board of Managers of theCrooked Creek Telegraph Company, and the Secretary, having been hard atwork all the morning, with the assistance of the Treasurer and thePresident, made a report of the financial results of the recent fivedays' working of the company's line. 

It is not necessary to go into particulars, but when the sums due thecompany from the Mica Company and sundry private individuals had beenset down on the one side, and the amounts due from the telegraph companyto Aunt Judy for candles and board and lodging for one operator; toUncle Braddock and Jim Haskins for services as messengers; to HiramAnderson for damages to boat (found near the river, stuck fast amongsome fallen timber, with one end badly battered by floating logs), andfor certain extras in the way of additional stationery, etc. , which ithad become necessary to procure from Hetertown, had been set down on theother side, and the difference between the sums total had beencalculated, it was found, and duly reported, that the company had madesix dollars and fifty-three cents. 

This was not very encouraging. It was seldom that the creek was up morethan five days at a time, and so this was a very favorable opportunityof testing the value of the line as a money-making concern. 

It was urged, however, by the more sanguine members of the Board thatthis was not a fair trial. There had been many expenses which probablywould not have to be incurred again. 

"But they didn't amount to so very much, " said Kate, who, as Treasurer, was present at the meeting. "Aunt Judy only charged a dollar and a halffor Harry's board, and the boat was only a dollar. And all the otherexpenses would have to be expected any time. "

After some further conversation on the subject, it was thought best toattend to present business rather than future prospects, and to appointcommittees to collect the money due the company. 

Harry and Tom Selden were delegated to visit the mica-mine people, whileHarvey, Wilson Ogden, and Brandeth Price composed the committee tocollect what was due from private individuals. 

Before Harry started for the mica mine, he consulted his father inregard to charging full price for the telegrams which he carried acrossthe creek in his pocket. 

Mr. Loudon laughed a good deal at the transaction, but he told Harrythat there was no reason why he should not charge for those telegrams. He had certainly carried them over in the first place, and thesubsequent double transmission over the wire was his own affair. 

When Harry and Tom rode over to the mica mine the next morning, andexplained their business and presented their bill, their account wasfound to be correct, and the amount of the bill was promptly handed tothem. 

When this little business had been transacted, Mr. Martin, the managerof the mine, invited them to sit down in his office and have a talk. 

"This line of yours, " said he, "is not going to pay you. "

"Why not?" asked Harry, somewhat disturbed in mind by this suddenstatement of what he had already begun to fear was an unpleasant truth. 

"It _has_ paid us, " said Tom Selden. "Why, we've only been working itfive days, on regular business, and we've cleared--well, we've clearedconsiderable. "

"That may be, " said the manager, smiling, "but you can't have made verymuch, for you must have a good many expenses. The principal reason why Ithink it won't pay you is that you have to keep up two stations, and youall live on this side of the creek. I've heard that one of you had ahard time getting over the creek last week. "

"That was Harry, " said Tom. 

"So I supposed, " said Mr. Martin; "and it must have been a prettydangerous trip. Now it won't do to do that sort of thing often; and youcan't tell when the creek's going to rise, so as to be over before thebridge is flooded. "

"That's true, " said Harry. "Crooked Creek doesn't give much notice whenit's going to rise. "

"No, it don't, " continued Mr. Martin. "And it won't do, either, for anyone of you to live on the other side, just to be ready to work the linein time of freshets. The creek isn't up often enough to make that pay. "

"But what can we do?" asked Harry. "You surely don't think we're goingto give up this telegraph line just as it begins to work, and after allthe money that's been spent on it, and the trouble we've had?"

"No, I don't think you are the kind of fellows to give up a thing sosoon, and we don't want you to give it up, for it's been a great deal ofuse to us already. What I think you ought to do is to run your line fromthe other side of the creek to Hetertown. Then you'd have no trouble atall. When the creek was up you could go down and work this end, and anarrangement could easily be made to have the operator at Hetertown workthe other end, and then it would be all plain sailing. He could send thetelegrams right on, on the regular line, and there would be no troubleor expense with messengers from the creek over to Hetertown. "

"That would be a splendid plan, " said Harry; "but it would cost likeeverything to have a long line like that. "

"It wouldn't cost very much, " said Mr. Martin. "There are pine woodsnearly all the way, by the side of the road, and so it wouldn't costmuch for poles. And you've got the instruments for that end of the line. All you'll have to do would be to take them over to Hetertown. Youwouldn't have to spend any money except for wire and for trimming offthe trees and putting up the wire. "

"But that would be more than we could afford, " said Tom Selden. "Youought just to try to make the people about here subscribe to anything, and you'd see what trouble it is to raise money out of them. "

"Oh, I don't think you need let the want of money enough to buy a fewmiles of wire prevent your putting up a really useful line, " said Mr. Martin; "our company would be willing to help you about that, I'm sure. "

"If you'd help, that would make it altogether another thing, " saidHarry; "but you'd have to help a good deal. "

"Well, we would help a good deal, " said Mr. Martin. "It would be to ourbenefit, you know, to have a good line. That's what we want, and we'rewilling to put some money in it. I suppose there'd be no difficulty ingetting permission to put up the line on the land between the creek andHetertown?"

"Oh, no!" said Harry. "A good part of the woods along the road belong tofather, and none of the people along there would object to us boysputting up our line on their land. "

"I thought they wouldn't, " said Mr. Martin. "I'll talk to our peopleabout this, and see what they think of it. "

As Harry and Tom rode home, Harry remarked, "Mr. Martin's a trump, isn'the? I hope the rest of the mica-mine people will agree with him. "

"I don't believe they will, " said Tom. "Why, you see they'd have to payfor the whole thing, and I reckon they won't be in a hurry to do that. But wouldn't we have a splendid line if they were to do it?"

"I should say so, " said Harry. "It's almost too good a thing to expect. I'm afraid Mr. Martin won't feel quite so generous when he calculateswhat it will cost. "

CHAPTER XXVI. 

A GRAND PROPOSITION. 

The summer vacation was now over, and the Board of Managers of thetelegraph company, as well as the other boys of the vicinity, wereobliged to go to school again and study something besides the arts ofmaking money and transacting telegraphic business. But as there was notmuch business of this kind to be done, the school interfered with thecompany's affairs in little else than the collection of money due fromprivate individuals for telegraphic services rendered during the late"rise" in the creek. The committee which had charge of this collectionlabored very faithfully for some time, and before and after school andduring the noon recess, the members thereof made frequent visits to thehouses of the company's debtors. As there were not more thanhalf-a-dozen debtors, it might have been supposed that the businesswould be speedily performed. But such was not the case. Mr. Darby, thestorekeeper, paid his bill promptly; and old Mr. Truly Matthews, who hadtelegraphed to Washington to a nephew in the Patent Office Department, "just to see how it would go, " paid what he owed on the eighth visit ofWilson Ogden to his house. He had not seen "how it would go, " for hisnephew had not answered him, either by telegraph or mail, and he was inno hurry to pay up, but he could not stand "that boy opening his gatethree times a day. " As for the rest, they promised to settle as soon asthey could get some spare cash--which happy time they expected wouldarrive when they sold their tobacco. 

It is to be supposed that no one ever bought their tobacco, for theynever paid up. 

The proceeds of the five days of telegraphing, together with the moneyobtained by the sale of Harry's gun, were spent by Kate for AuntMatilda's benefit; and as she knew that it might be a good while beforethere would be any more money coming, Kate was as economical as shecould be. 

It was all very proper and kind to make the old woman's income hold outas long as possible, but Aunt Matilda did not like this systematic andeconomical way of living. It was too late in life for her, she said, "todo more measurin' at a meal than chewin';" and so she becamediscouraged, and managed, one fine morning, to hobble up to see Mrs. Loudon about it. 

"Ise afraid dese chillen ain't a-gwine to hold out, " said she. "I donknow but what I'd better go 'long to the poor-house, arter all. Andthere's that money I put inter de comp'ny. I ain't seen nothin' come o'dat ar money yit. "

"How much did you put in, Aunt Matilda?" asked Mrs. Loudon. 

"Well, I needn't be a-sayin' jist how much it was; but it was solidsilver, anyway, and I don't reckon I'll ever see any of it back again. But it don't differ much. Ise an old woman, and them chillen is a-doin'their best. "

"Yes, they are, " said Mrs. Loudon; "and I think they're doing very well, too. You haven't suffered for anything lately, have you?"

"Well, no, " said the old woman, "I can't say that I've gone hungry ornuthin'; but I was only a-gittin' 'fraid I might. Dis hyar 'tic'lar wayo' doin' things makes a person scary. "

"I am glad that Kate is particular, " said Mrs. Loudon. "You know, AuntMatilda, that money isn't very plenty with any of us, and we all have tolearn to make it go as far as it will. I don't think you need feel'scary, ' if Kate's economy is all you have to fear. "

This interview somewhat reassured Aunt Matilda, but she was notaltogether satisfied with the state of things. The fact was that she hadsupposed that the telegraph company would bring in so much money thatshe would be able to live in what to her would be a state of comparativeluxury. And instead of that, Kate had been preaching economy andsystematic management to her. No wonder she was disappointed, and alittle out of humor with her young guardians. 

But for all that, if Harry or Kate had fallen into a fiery crater, AuntMatilda would have hurried in after them as fast as her old legs wouldhave carried her. 

She went back to her cabin, after a while, and she continued to have herthree meals a day all the same as usual; but if she could have seen, asKate saw, how steadily the little fund for her support was diminishingday by day, she would have had some reason for her apprehensions. 

It was on a pleasant Saturday in early September, that Harry stoodlooking over the front gate in his father's yard. Kate was at thedining-room window, sewing. Harry was thinking, and Kate was wonderingwhat he was thinking about. She thought she knew, and she called out tohim: "I expect old Mr. Matthews would lend you a gun, Harry. "

"Yes, I suppose he would, " said Harry, turning and slowly walking uptoward the house; "but father told me not to borrow a gun from TrulyMatthews. It's a shame, though, to stay here when the fields are justchock full of partridges. I never knew them so plenty in all my life. It's just the way things go. "

"It is a pity about your gun, " said Kate. "There's some one at the gate, Harry. Hadn't you better go and see what he wants? Father won't be homeuntil after dinner, you can tell him. "

Harry turned. 

"It's Mr. Martin, " said he, and he went down to the gate to meet him. 

"How do you do, Mr. President?" said Mr. Martin. "I rode over here thismorning, and thought I would come and see you. "

Harry shook hands with his visitor, and invited him to walk into thehouse; but after Mr. Martin had dismounted and fastened his horse, hethought that the seat under the catalpa-tree looked so cool andinviting, that he proposed that they should sit down there and have alittle chat. 

"I have been thinking about the extension of your telegraph line, " saidthe manager of the mica mine, "and have talked it over with our people. They agree with me that it would be a good thing, and we havedetermined, if it suits you and your company, that we will advance themoney necessary to carry out the scheme. "

"I'm glad to hear that, " said Harry; "but, as I said before, you'll haveto bear the whole expense, and it will cost a good deal to carry theline from the creek all the way to Hetertown. "

"Yes, it will cost some money, " said Mr. Martin "but our idea is thatyou ought to have a complete line while you are about it, and that itought to run from our mine to Hetertown. "

"From your mine to Hetertown!" exclaimed Harry, in astonishment. 

"Yes, " said Mr. Martin, smiling. "That is the kind of a line that isreally needed. You see, our business is increasing, and we are buyingland which we intend to sell out in small farms, and so expect to buildup quite a little village out there in time. So you can understand thatwe would like to be in direct communication with Richmond and the North. And if we can have it by means of your line, we are ready to put thenecessary funds into the work. "

Harry was so amazed at this statement, that he could hardly find wordswith which to express himself. 

"Why, that would give us a regular, first-class telegraph line!" heexclaimed. 

"Certainly, " said Mr. Martin, "and that's the only kind of a line thatis really worth anything. "

"I don't know what to think about it, " said Harry. "I didn't expect youto propose anything like this. "

"Well, " said Mr. Martin, rising, "I must be off. I had only a fewminutes to spare, but I thought I had better come and make you thisproposition. I think you had better lay it before your Board of Managersas soon as possible, and if you will take my advice, as a business man, you'll accept our offer. "

So saying, he bid Harry good-by, took off his hat to Kate, who was stilllooking out of the window, mounted his horse, and rode away. 

There was a meeting of the Board of Managers of the Crooked CreekTelegraph Company that afternoon. It was a full meeting, for Harry senthasty messengers to those he called the "out-lying members. "

A more astonished body of officials has seldom been seen than was ourBoard when Harry laid the proposition of Mr. Martin before it. 

But the boys were not so much amazed that they could not jump at thiswonderful opportunity and in a very short time it was unanimously votedto accept the proposition of the mica-mine people, and to build thegreat line. 

Almost as soon as this important vote had been taken, the meetingadjourned, and the members hurried to their several homes to carry thenews. 

"We'll have to change our name, " said Tom Selden to Harry. "We ought tocall our company 'The United States Mica and Hetertown Lightning ExpressLine, ' or something big like that. "

"Yes, " replied Harry. "The A 1 double-action, back-spring, copper-fastened, broad-gauge telegraph line from here to the moon!"

And away he ran to meet Kate, who was coming down the road. 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

HOW SOMETHING CAME TO AN END. 

The mica-mine management appeared to be thoroughly in earnest about thisextension of the telegraph line. As soon as the assent of the Board ofManagers to the scheme had been communicated to them, they sent a noteto Harry suggesting that he should, in the name of his company, get thewritten consent of owners of the lands over which the line would pass tothe construction of said line on their property. This business was soonsettled, for none of the owners of the farms between the mines andHetertown, all of whom were well acquainted with Mr. Loudon (and no manin that part of the country was held in higher estimation by hisneighbors), had the slightest objection to the boys putting up theirtelegraph line on their lands. 

When Harry had secured the necessary promises, the construction of theline was commenced forthwith. The boys had very little trouble with it. Mr. Martin got together a gang of men, with an experienced man to directthem, and came down with them to Akeville, where Harry hired them; andfinding that the foreman understood the business, he told him to go towork and put up the line. When paydays came around, Harry gave each manan order for his money on the Mica Mine Company, and their wages werepaid them by Mr. Martin. 

It was not very long before the line was constructed and the instrumentswere in working order in Hetertown and at the mica mines. There was aperson at the latter place who understood telegraphy, and he attended tothe business at that end of the line, while Mr. Lyons worked theinstruments at the Hetertown station, which was in the same buildingwith the regular telegraph line. 

It was agreed that the Mica Company should keep an account of allmessages sent by them over the line, and should credit the Crooked CreekTelegraph Company with the amount due in payment, after deductingnecessary expenses, hire of operators', and six per cent. On the capitaladvanced. 

Everything having been arranged on this basis, the extended line wentinto operation, without regard to the amount of water in the creek, andold Miles carried no more telegrams to Hetertown. 

The telegraph business, however, became much less interesting to Kateand the boys. It seemed to them as if it had been taken entirely out oftheir hands, which was, indeed, the true state of the case. They werethe nominal owners and directors of the line, but they had nothing todirect, and very vague ideas about the value of the property they owned. 

"I don't know, " said Tom Selden, as he sat one afternoon in Mr. Loudon'syard, with Harry and Kate, "whether we've made much by this business ornot. Those mica people keep all the accounts and do all the charging, and if they want to cheat us, I don't see what's to hinder them. "

"But you know, " said Harry, "that we can examine their accounts; and, besides, Mr. Lyons will keep a tally of all the messages sent, and Idon't believe that he would cheat us. "

"No; I don't suppose he would, " said Tom; "but I liked the old way best. There was more fun in it. "

"Yes, there was, " said Kate; "and then we helped old Lewston and AuntJudy. I expect they'll miss the money they got for rent. "

"Certainly, " said Harry. "They'll have to deny themselves many a luxuryin consequence of the loss of that dollar a month. "

"Now you're making fun, " said Kate; "but twelve dollars a year is a gooddeal to those poor people. "

"I suppose it is, " said Harry. "In fifty years, it would be six hundreddollars, if they saved it all up, and that is a good deal of money, evento us rich folks. "

"Rich!" said Kate. "We're so dreadfully rich that I have only forty-twocents left of Aunt Matilda's money, and I must have some very soon. "

The consequence of this conversation was that Harry had to ride over tothe mica mines and get a small advance on the payment due at the end ofthe month. 

The end of the month arrived, and the settlement was made. When theinterest on the money advanced to put up the line, hire of operators, and other expenses, had been deducted from the amount due the CrookedCreek Company, there was only two dollars and a quarter to be paid toit!

Harry was astounded. He took the money, rode back to Akeville, andhastened to have a consultation with Kate. For the first time since hebecame a guardian, he was in despair. This money was not enough for AuntMatilda's needs, and if it had been, there were stockholders who wereexpecting great things from the recent extension of the line. What wasto be said to them?

Harry did not know, and Kate could suggest nothing. It appeared to bequite plain that they had made a very bad business of this telegraphicaffair. A meeting of the Board was called, and when each member had hadhis say, matters appeared worse than ever. 

It was a very blue time for our friends. 

As for Kate, she cried a good deal that afternoon. 

The time had at last come when she felt they would have to give up AuntMatilda. She was sure, if they had never started this telegraphiccompany, they might have struggled through the winter, but now therewere stockholders and creditors and she did not know what all. She onlyknew that it was too much for them. 

Three days after this, Harry received a note from Mr. Martin. When heread it, he gave a shout that brought everybody out of the house--Katefirst. When she read the note, which she took from Harry as he waswaving it around his head, she stood bewildered. She could notcomprehend it. 

And yet it simply contained a proposition from the Mica Mine Company tobuy the Crooked Creek Telegraph Line, with all its rights andprivileges, assuming all debts and liabilities, and to pay therefor thesum of three hundred and fifty dollars in cash!

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Two days afterward, the line was formally sold to the Mica Company, andthe Crooked Creek Telegraph Company came to an end. 

When accounts were settled, Aunt Matilda's share of the proceeds of thesale were found to amount to two hundred and sixty-two dollars and fiftycents, which Kate deposited with Mr. Darby for safe keeping. 

It was only the sky that now looked blue to Harry and Kate. 

The Akeville people were a good deal surprised at this apparentlysingular transaction on the part of the Mica Company, but before long, their reasons for helping the boys to put up their line and then buyingit, became plain enough. 

The Mica Company had invested a large capital in mines and lands, andthe business required telegraphic communication with the North. Themanagers knew that they might have a good deal of trouble to getpermission to put up their line on the lands between the mines andHetertown, and so they wisely helped the boys to put up the line, andthen bought it of them, with all their rights and privileges. 

There was probably some sharp practice in this transaction, but ouryoung friends and Aunt Matilda profited by it. 

CHAPTER XXVIII. 

A MEETING. 

About a week after the dissolution of the Crooked Creek Company, Harrywas riding over from Hetertown, and had nearly reached the creek on hisway home, when he met George Purvis. 

This was their first meeting since their fight, for George had been awayon a visit to some relatives in Richmond. 

When Harry saw George riding slowly toward him, he felt very muchembarrassed, and very much annoyed because he was embarrassed. 

How should he meet George? What should he say; or should he sayanything?

He did not want to appear anxious to "make up" with him, nor did he wantto seem as if he bore malice toward him. If he only knew how George feltabout it!

As it was, he wished he had stopped somewhere on the road. He hadthought of stopping at the mill--why had he not? That would just havegiven George time to pass. 

Both boys appeared to be riding as slowly as their horses would consentto go, and yet when they met, Harry had not half made up his mind whathe would say, or how he should say it, or whether it would be better ornot to say anything. 

"Hello, George!" said he, quite unpremeditatedly. 

"Hello!" said George, reining in his horse "Where are you going?"

"Going home, " said Harry, also stopping in the road. 

Thus the quarrel came to an end. 

"So you've sold the telegraph?" said George. 

"Yes, " said Harry. "And I think we made a pretty good bargain. I didn'tthink we'd do so well when we started. "

"No, it didn't look like it, " said George; "but those mica men mayn'tfind it such a good bargain for them. "

"Why?" asked Harry. 

"Well, suppose some of the people who own the land that the line's on, don't want these strangers to have a telegraph on their farms. What's tohinder them ordering them off?"

"They wouldn't do that, " said Harry. "None of the people about herewould be so mean. They'd know that it might upset our bargain. Thereisn't a man who would do it. "

"All right, " said George. "I hope they won't. But how are you going tokeep the old woman now?"

"How?" said Harry. "Why, we can keep her easy enough. We got threehundred and fifty dollars from the Mica Company. "

"And how much is her share?"

"Over two hundred and sixty, " answered Harry. 

"Is that all?" said George. "That won't give her much income. Theinterest on it will only be about fifteen dollars a year, and she can'tlive on that. "

"But we didn't think of using only the interest, " said Harry. 

"So you're going to break in on the principal, are you? That's a poorway of doing. "

"Oh, we'll get along well enough, " said Harry. "Two hundred and sixtydollars is a good deal of money. Good-by! I must get on. Come up, Selim!"

"Good-by!" said George; and he spurred up his horse and rode off gayly. 

But not so Harry. He was quite depressed in spirits by George's remarks. He wished he had not met him, and he determined that he would not botherhis head by looking at the matter as George did. It was ridiculous. 

But the more he thought of it, the more sorry he felt that he had metGeorge Purvis. 

CHAPTER XXIX. 

ONCE MORE IN THE WOODS. 

"Harry, " said Kate, the next day after this meeting, "when are you goingto get your gun back?"

"Get my gun back!" exclaimed Harry. "How am I to do that?"

"Why, there's money enough, " answered Kate. "You only lent yourgun-money to Aunt Matilda's fund. Take out enough, and get your gunback. "

"That sounds very well, " said Harry; "but we haven't so much money, after all. The interest on what we have won't begin to support AuntMatilda, and we really ought not to break in on the principal. "

Kate did not immediately answer. She thought for a while and then shesaid:

"Well, that's what I call talking nonsense. You must have heard some onesay something like that. You never got it out of your own head. "

"It may not have come out of my own head, " said Harry, who had not toldKate of his meeting with George Purvis, "but it is true, for all that. It seems to me that whatever we do seems all right at first, and thenfizzles out. This telegraph business has done that, straight along. "

"No, it hasn't, " said Kate, with some warmth. "It's turned outfirst-rate. I think that interest idea is all stuff. As if we wanted toset up Aunt Matilda with an income that would last forever! Here comesfather. I'm going to ask him about the gun. "

When Mr. Loudon had had the matter laid before him, he expressed hisopinion without any hesitation. 

"I think, Harry, " said he, "that you certainly ought to go and get yourgun. "

And Harry went and got it. 

The rest of that day, which was Saturday, was delightful, both to Harryand Kate. Harry cleaned and polished up his gun, and Kate sat andwatched him. It seemed like old times. During those telegraphic days, when they were all thinking of business and making money, they seemed tohave grown old. 

But all that was over now, and they were a girl and a boy again. Late inthe afternoon, Harry went out and shot half-a-dozen partridges, whichwere cooked for supper, and Mrs. Loudon said that that seemed like thegood old style of things. She had feared that they were never going tohave any more game on their table. 

On the following Wednesday there was a half-holiday, and Harry was aboutto start off with his gun, when he proposed that Kate should go withhim. 

"But you're going after birds, " said Kate, "and I can't go where you'llwant to go--among the stubble and bushes. "

"Oh! I sha'n't go much after birds, " said Harry. "I wanted to borrowCaptain Caseby's dog, but he's going to use him himself to-day, and so Idon't expect to get much game. But we can have a good walk in thewoods. "

"All right, " said Kate. "I'll go along. " And away she went for her hat. 

The walk was charming. It was now September, and the fields were full ofbright-colored fall flowers, while here and there a sweet-gum tree beganto put on autumn tints. The sun was bright, and there was a strongbreeze full of piney odors from the forests to the west. 

They saw no game; and when they had rambled about for an hour or so, they sat down under an oak-tree on the edge of the woods, and while theywere talking, an idea came into Harry's head. He picked a great big fattoadstool that was growing near the roots of the tree, and carrying itabout sixty feet from the tree, he stuck it up on a bush. 

"Now then, " said he, taking up his gun, cocking it, and handing it toKate, "you take a shot at that mark. "

"Do you mean that I shall shoot at it?" exclaimed Kate. 

"Certainly, " said Harry. "You ought to know how to shoot. And it won'tbe the first time you have fired a gun. Take a shot. "

"All right, " said Kate. And she took off her hat and threw it on thegrass. Then she took the gun and raised it to a level with her eye. 

"Be easy now, " said Harry. "Hold the butt close against your shoulder. Take your time, and aim right at the middle of the mark. "

"I'm afraid I'm shutting the wrong eye, " said Kate. "I always do. "

"Shut your left eye, " said Harry. "Get the sight right between yourother eye and the mark. "

Kate took a good long aim, and then, summoning all her courage, shepulled the trigger. 

The gun went off with a tremendous bang! The toadstool trembled for aninstant, and then tumbled off the bush. 

"Hurra!" shouted Harry. "You've hit it fair!" And he ran and brought itto her, riddled with shot-holes. Kate was delighted with her success, and would have been glad to have spent the rest of the afternoon firingat a mark. But Harry was not well enough supplied with powder and shotfor that. However, he gave her another shot at a piece of paper on thebush. She made three shot-holes in it, and Harry said that would do verywell. He then loaded up again, and then they started off for home. Thepath they took led through a corner of the woods. 

They had not gone far before they met Gregory Montague. 

"Oh, Mah'sr Harry!" said Gregory, "I done foun' a bees' nes'. "

"Where?" cried Harry. 

"Down in a big tree in de holler, dar, " pointing over toward thethickest part of the woods. "You have to go fru de brush and bushes, butit's a powerful big nest, Mah'sr Harry, right in de holler ob de tree. "

"Are you sure it's a bees' nest?" said Harry. "How do you know?"

"I knows it's a bees' nest, " said Gregory, somewhat reproachfully. "Didn't I see de bees goin' in an' out fru a little hole?"

"Kate, " said Harry, "you hold this gun a little while. I'll run downthere and see if it is really a bee-tree that he has found. Hold itunder your arm, that way, with the muzzle down. That's it. I'll be backdirectly. " And away he ran with Gregory. 

And now Kate was left alone in the woods with a gun under her arm. Itwas a new experience for her. She felt proud and pleased to have controlof a gun, and it was not long before she began to think that it would bea splendid thing if she could shoot something that would do for supper. How surprised they would all be if she should bring home some game thatshe had shot, all by herself!

She made up her mind that she would do it, if she could see anything toshoot. 

And so she walked quietly along the path with her thumb on the hammer ofthe gun, all ready to cock it the instant she should see a good chancefor a shot. 

CHAPTER XXX. 

A GIRL AND A GUN. 

A short distance beyond the place where Kate had been left, there was asmall by-path; and when, still carefully carrying her gun, she reachedthis path, Kate stopped. Here would be a good place, she thought, towait for game. Something would surely come into that little path, if shekept herself concealed. 

So she knelt down behind a small bush that grew at a corner of the twopaths, and putting her gun through the bush, rested the barrel in acrotch. 

The gun now pointed up the by-path, and there was an opening in the bushthrough which Kate could see for some distance. 

Here, then, she watched and waited. 

The first thing that crossed the path was a very little bird. It hoppeddown from a twig, it jerked its head about, it pecked at something onthe ground, and then flew up into a tree. Kate would not have shot it onany account, for she knew it was not good to eat; but she could not helpwondering how people ever did shoot birds, if they did not "hold still"any longer than that little creature did. 

Then there appeared a small brown lizard. It came very rapidly rightdown the path toward Kate. 

"If it comes all the way, " thought Kate, "I shall have to jump. "

But it did not come all the way, and Kate remained quiet. 

For some time no living creatures, except butterflies and other insects, showed themselves. Then, all of a sudden, there popped into the middleof the path, not very far from Kate, a real, live rabbit!

It was quite a good-sized rabbit, and Kate trembled from head to foot. Here was a chance indeed!

To carry home a fat rabbit would be a triumph. She aimed the gun asstraight toward the rabbit as she could, having shut the wrong eyeseveral times before she got the matter arranged to her satisfaction. Then she remembered that she had not cocked the gun, and so she had todo that, which, of course, made it necessary for her to aim all overagain. 

She cocked only one hammer, and she did it so gently that it did notfrighten the rabbit, although he flirted his ears a little when he heardthe "click, click!" Everything was so quiet that he probably thought heheard some insect, probably a young or ignorant cricket that did notknow how to chirp properly. 

So he sat very still and nibbled at some leaves that were growing by theside of the path. He looked very pretty as he sat there, taking hisdainty little bites, and jerking up his head every now and then, as ifhe were expecting somebody. 

"I must wait till he's done eating, " thought Kate. "It would be cruel toshoot him now. "

Then he stopped nibbling all of a sudden, as if he had just thought ofsomething, and as soon as he remembered what it was, he twisted his headaround and began to scratch one of his long ears with his hind foot. Helooked so funny doing this that Kate came near laughing but, fortunately, she remembered that that would not do just then. 

When he had finished scratching one ear, he seemed to consider thequestion whether or not he should scratch the other one; but he finallycame to the conclusion that he would not. He would rather hop over tothe other side of the path and see what was there. 

This, of course, made it necessary for Kate to take a new aim at him. 

Whatever it was that he found on the other side of the path it grewunder the ground, and he stuck his head down as far as he could get it, and bent up his back, as if he were about to try to turn a somersault, or to stand on his head. 

"How round and soft he is!" thought Kate. "How I should like to pat him. I wonder when he'll find whatever it is that he's looking for! What acunning little tail!"

The cunning little tail was soon clapped flat on the ground, and Mr. Bunny raised himself up and sat on it. He lifted his nose and hisfore-paws in the air and seemed to be smelling something good. His queerlittle nose wiggled so comically that Kate again came very near burstingout laughing. 

"How I would love to have him for a pet!" she said to herself. 

After sniffing a short time, the rabbit seemed to come to the conclusionthat he was mistaken, after all, and that he did not really smellanything so very good. He seemed disappointed, however, for he lifted upone of his little fore-paws and rubbed it across his eyes. But, perhaps, he was not so very sorry, but only felt like taking a nap, for hestretched himself out as far as he could, and then drew himself up in abunch, as if he were going to sleep. 

"I wish he wouldn't do that, " thought Kate, anxiously. "I don't want toshoot him in his sleep. "

But Bunny was not asleep. He was thinking. He was trying to make up hismind about something. There was no way of finding out what it was thathe was trying to make up his mind about. He might have been wonderingwhy some plants did not grow with their roots uppermost, so that hecould get at them without rubbing his little nose in the dirt; or whytrees were not good to eat right through trunk and all. Or he might havebeen trying to determine whether it would be better for him to go overto 'Lijah Ford's garden, and try to get a bite at some cabbage-leaves;or to run down to the field just outside of the woods, where he wouldvery likely meet a certain little girl rabbit that he knew very well. 

But whatever it was, he had no sooner made up his mind about it than hegave one big hop and was out of sight in a minute. 

"There!" cried Kate. "He's gone!"

"I reckon he thought he'd guv you 'bout chance enough, Miss Kate, " saida voice behind her, and turning hurriedly, she saw Uncle Braddock. 

"Why, how did you come here?" she exclaimed. "I didn't hear you. "

"Reckon not, Miss Kate, " said the old man. "You don't s'pose I wasa-goin' to frighten away yer game. I seed you a-stoopin' down aimin' atsomethin', and I jist creeped along a little at a time to see what itwas. Why, what _did_ come over you, Miss Kate, to let that ole har go?It was the puttiest shot I ever did see. "

"Oh! I couldn't fire at the dear little thing while it was eating soprettily, " said Kate, letting down the hammer of the gun as easily asshe could; "and then he cut up such funny little capers that I came nearlaughing right out. I couldn't shoot him while he was so happy, and I'mglad I didn't do it at all. "

"All right, Miss Kate, " said Uncle Braddock, as he started off on hisway through the woods; "that may be a werry pious way to go a-huntin'but it won't bring you in much meat. "

When Harry came back from hunting for the bee-tree, which he did notfind, he saw Kate walking slowly down the path toward the village, thegun under her arm, with the muzzle carefully pointed toward the ground. 

CHAPTER XXXI. 

A MAN IN A BOAT. 

On a very pleasant afternoon that fall, a man came down Crooked Creek ina small flat-bottomed boat. He rowed leisurely, as if he had been rowinga long distance and felt a little tired. In one end of the boat was asmall trunk. 

As this man, who had red hair, and a red face, and large red hands, pulled slowly along the creek, turning his head every now and then tosee where he was going, he gradually approached the bridge that crossedthe creek near "One-eyed Lewston's" cabin. Just before he reached thebridge, he noticed what seemed to him a curious shadow running in a thinstraight line across the water. Resting on his oars, and looking up tosee what there was above him to throw such a shadow, he perceived atelegraph wire stretching over the creek, and losing itself to sight inthe woods on each side. 

A telegraph wire was an ordinary sight to this man, but this particularwire seemed to astonish him greatly. 

"What on earth is this?" he asked out loud. But there was no one toanswer him, and so, after puzzling his mind for a few minutes, he rowedon. 

When that man reached the point in the creek to which he was bound, and, with his trunk on his shoulder, walked up to the house where he used tolive, he was still more astonished; for a telegraph wire ran through onecorner of the back yard. 

Cousin Maria now lived in this house, and George Mason was coming to payher a visit. His appearance was rather a surprise to her, but still shewelcomed him. She was a good soul. 

Almost before he asked her how she was, he put the question to her:

"What telegraph line's that?"

So Cousin Maria wiped her hands on her long gingham apron (she had beenwashing her best set of china), and she sat down and told him all aboutit. 

"You see, George, " said she, "that there line was the boys' telegraphline, afore they sold it to the mica people; and when the boys put it upthey expected to make a heap of money, which I reckon they didn't do, orelse they wouldn't have sold it. But these mica people wanted it, andthey lengthened it at both ends, and bought it of the boys--or ratherof Harry Loudon, for he was the smartest of the lot, and the real ownerof the thing--he and his sister Kate--as far as I could see. And whenthey stretched the line over to Hetertown, they came to me and told mehow the line ran along the road most of the way, but that they couldsave a lot of time and money (though I don't see how they could savemuch of a lot of money when, accordin' to all accounts, the whole linedidn't cost much, bein' just fastened to pine-trees, trimmed off, and ifit had cost much, them boys couldn't have built it, for I reckon themica people didn't help 'em a great deal, after all) if I would let themcut across my grounds with their wire, and I hadn't no objection, anyway, for the line didn't do no harm up there in the air, and so Isaid certainly they might, and they did, and there it is. "

When George Mason heard all this, he walked out of the back-door andover to the wood-pile, where he got an axe and cut down the pole thatwas in Cousin Maria's back yard. And when the pole fell, it broke thewire, just as Mr. Martin had got to the sixth word of a message he wassending over to Hetertown. 

Cousin Maria was outraged. 

"George Mason!" said she, "you can stay here as long as you like, andyou can have part of whatever I've got in the house to eat, but I'llnever sit down to the table with you till you've mended that wire andnailed it to another pole. "

"All right, " answered George Mason. "Then I'll eat alone. "

When Mr. Martin and the mica-mine people and the Akeville people andHarry and Kate and all the boys and everybody black and white heard whathad happened, there was great excitement. It was generally agreed thatsomething must be done with George Mason. He had no more right to cutdown that pole because he had once lived on the place, than he had to goand cut down any of the neighbors' beanpoles. 

So the sheriff and some deputy sheriffs, (Tony Kirk among them), and aconstable and a number of volunteer constables, went off after GeorgeMason, to bring him to justice. 

It was more than a week before they found him, and it is probable thatthey would not have captured him at all, had he not persisted in stayingin the neighborhood, so as to be on hand with his axe, in case the lineshould be repaired. 

"It's all along of my tellin' him that that line was got up by themLoudon children, " said Cousin Maria. "He hates Mr. Loudon worse thanpisen, because he was the man that found out all his tricks. "

Mason was taken to the court-house and locked up in the jail. Almost allthe people of the county, and some people belonging to adjoiningcounties, made up their minds to be at the court-house when his trialshould take place. 

On the second night of his imprisonment, George Mason forced open awindow of his cell and went away. And what was more, he staid away. Hehad no desire to be at the court-house when his trial took place. 

No one felt more profound satisfaction when George Mason left thecountry, and the telegraph line was once more in working order, thanHarry and Kate. 

They had an idea that if George Mason, should persist in cutting thetelegraph line, the Mica Company would give it up, and that they mightbe called upon to refund the money on which Aunt Matilda depended forsupport. They had been told that they need not trouble themselves aboutthis, as the Mica Company had taken all risks; but still they weredelighted when they heard that George Mason had cleared out, and thatthere was every reason to suppose that he would not come back. 

CHAPTER XXXII. 

AUNT MATILDA'S LETTER. 

One afternoon, about the end of October, Aunt Matilda was sitting in herbig straight-backed chair, on one side of her fireplace. There was awood fire blazing on the hearth, for the days were getting cool and theold woman liked to be warm. On the other side of the fireplace sat UncleBraddock. Sitting on the floor, between the two, were John WilliamWebster and Dick Ford. In the doorway stood Gregory Montague. He was noton very good terms with Aunt Matilda, and was rather afraid to come inall the way. On the bed sat Aunt Judy. 

It must not be supposed that Aunt Matilda was giving a party. Nothing ofthe kind. These colored people were not very much engrossed withbusiness at this time of the year, and as it was not far fromsupper-time, and as they all happened to be near Aunt Matilda's cabinthat afternoon, they thought they'd step in and see her. 

"Does any of you uns know, " asked Aunt Matilda, "whar Ole Miles is now?Dey tells me he don't carry de mails no more. "

"No, " said John William Webster, who was always quick to speak. "Deydone stop dat ar. Dey got so many letters up dar at de mica mines, datdey send all the big ones to de pos'-office in a bag an' a buggy, anddey send de little ones ober de telegraph. "

"But whar's Ole Miles?" repeated Aunt Matilda. 

"He's a-doin' jobs up aroun' de mines, " said Uncle Braddock. "De las'time I see him he was a-whitewashin' a fence. "

"Well, I wants to see Ole Miles, " said Aunt Matilda. "I wants him tocarry a letter fur me. "

"I'll carry yer letter, Aunt Matilda, " said Dick Ford; and GregoryMontague, anxious to curry favor, as it was rapidly growing near toash-cake time, stated in a loud voice that he'd take it "fus thing in demornin'. "

"I don' want none o' you uns, " said Aunt Matilda. "Ole Miles is used tocarryin' letters, and I wants him to carry my letter. Ef you'd like terkeep yerse'f out o' mischief, you Greg'ry, you kin go 'long and tell himI wants him to carry a letter fur me. "

"I'll do that, " said Gregory, "fus' thing in de mornin'. "

"Better go 'long now, " said Aunt Matilda. 

"Too late now, Aunt Matilda, " said Gregory, anxiously. "Couldn't git dar'fore dark, no how, and he'd be gone away, and I 'spect I couldn't fin'him. "

"Whar is yer letter?" asked Uncle Braddock. 

"Oh, 'tain't writ yit, " said Aunt Matilda. "I wants some o' you uns towrite it fur me. Kin any o' you youngsters write writin'?"

"Yes, ma'am, " said John William Webster. "Greg'ry kin write fus-rate. He's been ter school mor'n a month. "

"You shet up!" cried Gregory, indignantly. "Ise been to school mor'ndat. Ise been free or four weeks. And I know'd how to write some 'fore Iwent. Mah'sr George teached me. "

"You'd better git Miss Kate to write yer letter, " said Aunt Judy. "She'dspell it out a great sight better dan Gregory Montague, I reckons. "

"No, I don't want Miss Kate to write dis hyar letter. She does enough, let alone writin' letters fur me. Come 'long hyar, you Greg'ry. Reach updar on dat shelf and git dat piece o' paper behin' de 'lasses gourd. "

Gregory obeyed promptly, and pulled out a half-sheet of note-paper frombehind the gourd. The paper had been there a good while, and was ratheryellow-looking. There was also a drop of molasses on one corner of it, which John William said would do to seal it up with; but Gregory wipedit carefully off on the leg of his trousers. 

"Now, den, " said Aunt Matilda; "sot yerse'f right down dar on de floor. Git off dat ar smooth board, you Dick, an' let Greg'ry put his paperdar. I hain't got no pen, but hyar's a pencil Miss Kate lef' one day. Butit ain't got no pint. Ef some of you boys has got a knife, ye kin put apint to it. "

Uncle Braddock dived into the recesses of his dressing-gown, andproduced a great jack-knife, with a crooked iron blade and a hickoryhandle. 

"Look a-dar!" cried John William Webster. "Uncle Braddock's a-gwine terchop de pencil up fur kindlin'-wood. "

"None o' yer laughin' at dis knife, " said Uncle Braddock, with a frown. "I done made dis hyar knife mese'f. "

A better knife, however, was produced by Dick Ford, and the pencil wassharpened. Then Gregory Montague stretched himself out on the floor, resting on his elbows, with the paper before him and the pencil in hishand. 

"Is you ready?" said Aunt Matilda. 

"All right, " said Gregory. "Yer can go 'long. "

Aunt Matilda put her elbows on her knees and her chin in her hands, andlooked into the fire. Gregory and every one else waited quite a whilefor her to begin. 

"Ye had better put de number ob de year fus, " suggested Uncle Braddock. 

"Well, ye kin put dat, " said Aunt Matilda, "while I'm a-workin' out deletter in my mind. "

There now arose a discussion as to what was the "number of the year. "Aunt Judy knew that the "war" was somewhere along in "sixty, " andthought it must certainly be seventy or eighty by this time; while UncleBraddock, who was accustomed to look back a long way, was sure it was"nigh on to a hun'red. "

Dick Ford, however, although he was not a writer, could read, and hadquite a fancy for spelling out a newspaper, and he asserted that theyear was eighteen hundred and seventy, and so it was put down "180070, "much to the disgust of Uncle Braddock, who did not believe it was somuch. 

"Yer ought to say ef it's before Christ or after Christ, " said AuntJudy. "Old Mah'sr Truly Mathers 'splained dat to me, 'bout years. "

"Well, then, " said Gregory, ready with his pencil, "which is it?"

Dick Ford happened to know a little on the subject, and so he toldGregory how he should put down "B. C. " for "before Christ, " and "A. C. "for "after Christ, " and that "A. C. " was right for this year. 

This was set down in Gregory's most careful lettering. 

"Dat dar hind letter's got the stumic-ache, " said John William Webster, putting his long finger, black on top and yellow underneath, on the C, which was rather doubled up. 

Nobody thought of the month or the day, and so the letter was considereddated. 

"Now, den, " said Gregory, "who's it to?"

"Jist never you mind who's it to, " answered Aunt Matilda. "I know, an'that's enough to know. "

"But you've got to put de name on de back, " said Aunt Judy, anxiously. 

"Dat's so, " said Uncle Braddock, with equal anxiety. 

"No, I hain't, " remarked Aunt Matilda. "I'll tell Ole Miles who to takeit to. Put down for de fus' thing:

"'Ise been thinkin' fur a long time dat I oughter to write about dishyar matter, and I s'pose you is the right one to write to. '"

"What matter's dat?" asked Aunt Judy. 

"Neber you mind, " replied Aunt Matilda. 

Slowly and painfully, Gregory printed this sentence, with Dick Fordclose on one side of him; with John William's round, woolly head stuckalmost under his chin; with Uncle Braddock leaning over him from hischair; and Aunt Judy standing, peering down upon him from behind. 

"Dat's wrong, " said Dick Ford, noticing that Gregory had written thelast words thus: "rite 1 ter rite 2. " "She don't want no figgers. "

"What did she say 'em fur, den?" asked Gregory. 

"Now, Greg'ry, " said Aunt Matilda, "put down dis:

 "'I don't want to make no trouble, and I wouldn't do nothin' to trouble dem chillen; but Ise been a-waitin' a good long while now, and I been thinkin' I'd better write an' see 'bout it. '"

"What you want to see 'bout?" asked Aunt Judy, quickly. 

"Neber you min' what it is, " replied Aunt Matilda. "Go on, you Greg'ry, and put down:

 "'Dat money o' mine was reel money, and when I put it in, I thought I'd git it back ag'in afore dis. '"

"How much was it, Aunt Matilda?" asked Uncle Braddock, while Aunt Judyopened her eyes and her mouth, simply because she could not open herears any wider than they were. 

"Dat's none o' your business, " replied Aunt Matilda. "Now put down:

 "'I 'spect dem telegram fixin's cost a lot o' money, but I don't 'spect it's jist right to take all an ole woman's money to build 'em. '"

"Lor's _ee_!" ejaculated Uncle Braddock, "dat's so!"

"Now you Greg'ry, " continued Aunt Matilda, "put down:

 "'Ef you write me a letter 'bout dat ar money, you kin giv it to Ole Miles. '

Now sign my name to dat ar letter. "

The next day, having been summoned by the obliging Gregory, Old Milesmade his appearance in Aunt Matilda's cabin. 

The old woman explained to him that the letter was so important that shecould trust it to no one who was not accustomed to carry letters, andMiles was willing and proud to exercise his skill for her benefit. 

"Now, den, " said she; "take dis hyar letter to de man what works detelegrum in Hetertown, and fotch me back an answer. "

CHAPTER XXXIII. 

TIME TO STOP. 

About a week after this letter was written, Kate said to Harry:

"You really ought to have Aunt Matilda's roof mended. There are severalholes in it. I think her house ought to be made tight and warm beforewinter; don't you?"

"Certainly, " said Harry. "I'll get some shingles and nail them over theholes to-morrow. "

The next day was Saturday, and a rainy day. About ten o'clock Harry wentto Aunt Matilda's cabin with his shingles and a hammer and nails. Katewalked over with him. 

To their surprise they found the old woman in bed. 

"Why, what is the matter, Aunt Matilda?" asked Kate. "Are you sick?"

"No, honey, I isn't sick, " said the old woman; "but somehow or other Idon't keer to git up. Ise mighty comfurt'ble jist as I is. "

"But you ought to have your breakfast, " said Kate. "What is this basinof water doing on the foot of your bed?"

"Oh, don't 'sturb dat ar tin basin, " said Aunt Matilda. "Dat's to ketchder rain. Dar's a hole right ober de foot o' de bed. "

"But you won't want that now, " said Kate. "Harry's going to nailshingles over all the holes in your roof. "

"An' fall down an' break his neck. He needn't do no sich foolishness. Dat ar tin basin's did me fur years in and years out, and I neber kickedit ober yit. Dere's no use a-mendin' holes dis time o' day. "

"It's a very good time of day, " said Harry, who was standing in thedoor; "and it isn't raining now. You used to have a ladder here, AuntMatilda. If you'll tell me where it is, I can mend that hole over yourbed without getting on the roof at all. "

"Jist you keep away from de roof, " said the old woman. "Ef you gohammerin' on dat ole roof you'll have it all down on me head. I don'twant no mendin' dis time o' day. "

Finding that Aunt Matilda was so much opposed to any carpenter-work onher premises at that time, Harry went home, while Kate remained to getthe old woman some breakfast. 

Aunt Matilda felt better that afternoon, and she sat up and ate hersupper with Uncle Braddock (who happened to be there); but as she wasevidently feeling the effects of her great age, an arrangement was made, by which Aunt Judy gave up her cabin and came to live with Aunt Matildaand take care of her. 

One morning, about a week after the rainy Saturday, Mrs. Loudon cameover to see Aunt Matilda. She found the old woman lying on the bed, andevidently worried about something. 

"You see, Miss Mary, " said Aunt Matilda, "Ise kind o' disturbed in memin'. I rit a letter a long time ago, and Ole Miles ain't fetched me noanswer yit, and it sorter worries me. "

"I didn't know you could write, " said Mrs. Loudon, somewhat surprised. 

"Neither I kin, " said Aunt Matilda. "I jist got dat Greg'ry Montague towrite it fur me, and dear knows what he put in it. "

"Who was your letter to, Aunt Matilda?" asked Mrs. Loudon. 

"I do' know his name, but he works de telegrum at Hetertown. An' I do'min' tellin' you 'bout it, Miss Mary, ef you do' worry dem chillen. Deletter was 'bout my money in de telegrum comp'ny. Dat was reel silbermoney, an' I hain't heerd nor seed nothin' of it sence. "

When Mrs. Loudon went home she told Harry and Kate of Aunt Matilda'stroubles. 

Neither of them said anything at the time, but Harry put on his hat andwent up to the store, while Kate sat down to her sewing. 

After a while, she said:

"I think, mother, it's pretty hard in Aunt Matilda, after all we've donefor her, to think of nothing but the ten cents she put into the stock ofthe company. "

"It is perfectly natural, " said Mrs. Loudon. "That ten cents was her ownprivate property, and no matter how small a private property may be, itis of greater interest to the owner than any other property in theworld. To be sure, the money that was paid for the telegraph line is forAunt Matilda's benefit, but you and Harry have the management and thespending of it. But that ten cents was all her own, and she could spendit just as she chose. "

The next day Kate went over to Aunt Matilda with two silver ten-centpieces that Harry had got from Mr. Darby. 

"Aunt Matilda, " said she, "this is not the very same ten-cent piece youput into the company, but it's just as good; and Harry thinks that youhave about doubled your money, and so here's another one. "

The old woman, who was sitting alone by the fire wrapped up in a shawl, took the money, and putting it in the hollow of her bony hand, gazed atit with delight. 

Then she looked up at Kate. 

"You is good chillen, " she said. "You is mighty good chillen. I don't'spect I'll lib much longer in dis hyar world. Ise so precious old datit's 'bout time to stop. But I don't 'spects I'll find nobody in hebenthat'll be more reel comfort to me dan you chillen. "

"Oh Aunt Matilda!" cried Kate. "Why, you'll meet all your friends andrelations that you talk so much about and who died so long ago. "

"Well, " said Aunt Matilda, very deliberately, "perhaps I shall, andperhaps I sha'n't; dere's no tellin'. But dere ain't no mistakin' 'boutyou chillen. "

That afternoon, when Uncle Braddock called, Aunt Matilda said to him:

"Ef you see Ole Miles ye kin tell him he needn't bring me no answer todat letter. "

Very early one morning, a few days after this, Kate went over to AuntMatilda's cabin. 

She saw Aunt Judy standing at the door. 

"How's Aunt Matilda?" asked Kate. 

"Gone to glory, " said Aunt Judy. 

Aunt Matilda was buried under a birch-tree near the church that she usedto attend when able to walk. 

That portion of her "fund" which remained unexpended at the time of herdeath was used to pay her funeral expenses and to erect a suitabletombstone over her grave. On the stone was an inscription. Harrycomposed it, and Kate copied it carefully for the stonecutter. 

And thus, after much hard labor and anxious thought, after manydisappointments and a great deal of discouragement, Harry and Kateperformed to the end the generous task they had set themselves, whichwas just what might have been expected of such a boy and such a girl. 

THE END. 

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TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

1. Punctuation has been normalized to contemporary standards. 

2. Typographic errors corrected from original: p. 13 "find" to "fine" ("fine head for mathematics") p. 63 "Mr. Mr. " to "Mr. " ("pacify Mr. Matthews") p. 78 "hubhub" to "hubbub" ("heard above the hubbub") p. 96 "grumly" to "grimly" ("said Aunt Matilda, grimly") p. 129 "buiness" to "business" ("business should not be diverted") p. 181 "or" to "for" ("for it was quite evident")