Part 32 (1/2)
The major fairly beamed on his guests across the hospitable board.
”It must have been Miss Sallie's fault,” thought Mollie, watching his handsome face with a secret admiration. ”He is certainly the dearest old man alive. I wonder if she isn't sorry now?”
And as if in answer to her unspoken question, she heard Miss Sallie saying:
”John, I hope this is not the last visit you will let us make to Ten Eyck Hall. In spite of its fires and tramps I should like to come again.”
”I should be the happiest man in the world if you only would,” he answered. ”I am greatly relieved that you haven't got an everlasting prejudice against it.”
”When I settle down for the winter,” Jimmie Butler was heard to remark above the hum of conversation, ”I mean to take up a certain study and not leave off studying it until I have graduated with diploma and honors.”
”What is it, Jimmie?” demanded the others.
”Prize fighting,” he replied. ”I intend to learn wrestling and boxing, likewise just plain hair-pulling and scratching. Prize fighting in all its varieties for me before another year rolls round.”
”You will have to go into training, then, Jim,” exclaimed Alfred. ”You will not be permitted to eat anything you like and not too much of anything else.”
”No more hot bread for you, Jimmie,” continued Stephen. ”No more waffles and Johnnie-cakes. You will have to punch the bag mornings, when you would rather be sleeping, and give up theatres in the evenings for early bedtime. It's a fearful life, my boy.”
”Be that as it may,” persisted Jimmie, ”I'm going to learn how to deal a blow that will give a man a black eye the first time, and if ever I get hold of that wiry individual who gave me these in the woods, yonder,” he pointed to his red nose and discolored eye, ”he'll get such a 'licking'
as he'll remember to his last hour. Even Stephen's giant won't be a match for me.”
There was joyous laughter at this, followed by remarks from Martin and Alfred of a rather sarcastic character, such as ”Give it to him, Jimmie!
Give him a b.u.mp in the ribs!”
”I am going to have the woods patrolled, hereafter, in the summer time,”
observed the major, ”and all dangerous characters will be excluded. The next time we have a house party there will be no tramps to threaten my guests.”
”By the way,” said Stephen, ”the giant tramp is in the hospital now. He was drunk when the fire started, and fell asleep. He was badly burned and almost suffocated, but his poor, long-suffering wife managed to save him somehow. The other two had left him to die.”
”Will you have him arrested when he gets well, Major?” asked Ruth.
”No,” replied the major, somewhat confused. ”I suppose I should, but he tells me he was despoiled of his living by a dishonest master, and I have concluded to make it up to him for being richer than he is by giving him something to do. We have several farms back in the country and I have put him in charge of the smallest one. It seems that farming is the very thing he wants to do more than anything else in life. He will have to travel a good distance before he can get anything to drink, and his wife is the happiest woman over the prospect you ever saw.”
”Major, major!” protested Miss Sallie. ”What will you do next?”
”Ah, well,” exclaimed the major, ”it is good to be able to give a man a chance to earn an honest living, especially if he wants to take it. And, when this poor wretch heard about that bit of land and little cottage back yonder in the hills, he looked as if he had had a glimpse of heaven. His wife told me that he had really tried, again and again to find something to do; but indoor life was very irksome to him because he had been brought up on a farm, and working in factories and foundries had been his undoing.”
”Stephen, how do you feel about it?” asked Alfred. ”He was your opponent in the fight, you know.”
”Oh, I don't mind,” replied Stephen. ”He didn't give me a black eye, and I am glad for him to earn an honest living. Uncle's a brick.”
When the meal was over Major Ten Eyck rose from the table, clearing his throat as if he were about to make a speech, which indeed he was.
”I have something to say before this party breaks up, for myself and the boys. We want to express to you, how deeply grateful we feel to you, Miss Sallie and 'The Automobile Girls,' for what you have done for us.
”You have saved our old home for us, at the risk of your own precious lives, and there is nothing we can really do or say to show how much we appreciate it. The place has been in the family ever since there were any Ten Eycks to live in it. I was born here and I love it, and I hope to end my days here--”
”Don't speak as if you were on the brink of the grave, Major, I beg of you,” protested Miss Sallie. ”You are not many years older than I am, and I certainly will not allow such mournful thoughts to trouble me so soon.”