Part 23 (1/2)
”I know better than that,” snorted Hepsey. ”But I guess he'll want to go there, and stay the winter there too, maybe, when I've had my say.
No sir--I'm goin' to take my knittin' up to his office, and sit awhile; and if he doesn't have the time of his life it won't be my fault.”
She turned to leave the room, with a belligerent swing of her shoulders.
”Mrs. Burke,” said Maxwell gently, ”you are kindness itself; but I don't want you to do this--at least not yet. I want to fight this thing through myself, and rather to shame Bascom into doing the right thing than force him to do it--even if the latter were possible. I must think things out a bit. I shall want your help--we always do, Betty and I.”
”I don't know but you're right; but if your plan don't work, remember mine _will_. Well, Mrs. Betty'll be coming in soon, and I'll leave you. Meantime I shall just go home and load my guns: I'm out for Bascom's hide, sooner or later.”
[Ill.u.s.tration]
CHAPTER XVIII
THE NEW RECTORY
When Betty returned, and Donald told her the happenings of the morning, the clouds dispersed somewhat, and before long the dictum that ”there is humor in all things”--even in ejection from house and home--seemed proven true. After lunch they sat in Donald's den, and were laughingly suggesting every kind of habitat, possible and impossible, from purchasing and fitting up the iceman's covered wagon and perambulating round the town, to taking a store and increasing their income by purveying Betty's tempting preserves and confections.
Their consultation was interrupted by the arrival of Nickey, armed with a Boy Scouts' ”Manual.”
”Gee! Mr. Maxwell: Uncle Jonathan Jackson's all right; I'll never do another thing to guy him. He's loaned us his tent for our Boy Scouts'
corpse, and I've been studyin' out how to pitch it proper, so I can show the kids the ropes; but----”
”Donald!” cried Betty. ”The very thing--let's camp out on the church lot.”
”By Jinks!” exclaimed Maxwell, unclerically. ”We'll have that tent up this very afternoon--if Nickey will lend it to us, second hand, and get his men together.”
Nickey flushed with delight. ”You betcher life I will,” he shouted excitedly. ”Is it for a revival stunt? You 'aint goin' to live there, are you?”
”That's just what we are going to do, if Jonathan and you'll lend us the tent for a few months. Mr. Bascom wants to let the rectory to some other tenants, and we've got to find somewhere else to lay our heads.
Why, it's the very way! There's not a thing against it, that I can see. Let's go and see the tent, and consult Mrs. Burke. Come along, both of you.”
And off they hurried, like three children bent on a new game. It was soon arranged, and Hepsey rose to the occasion with her usual vim. To her and Nickey the transportation of the tent was consigned, while Maxwell went off to purchase the necessary boarding for a floor, and Mrs. Betty returned to the rectory to pack up their belongings.
”We'll have to occupy our new quarters to-night,” said Maxwell, ”or our friend the enemy may raid the church lot in the night, and vanish with tent and all.”
An hour or so later, when Maxwell arrived at the church, clad in overalls and riding on a wagon of planks, he found Mrs. Burke and Nickey with a contingent of stalwarts awaiting him. There was a heap of canvas and some coils of rope lying on the ground near by. Hepsey greeted him with a smile from under the shade of her sun-bonnet.
”You seem ready for business, even if you don't look a little bit like the Archbishop of Canterbury in that rig,” she remarked. ”I'm afraid there'll be an awful scandal in the parish if you go wanderin' around dressed like a carpenter; but it can't be helped; and if the Bishop excommunicates you, I'll give you a job on the farm.”
”I don't mind about the looks of it; but I suppose the vestry will have something to say about our camping on church property.”
”That needn't worry you. Maybe it'll bring 'em to their senses, and maybe, they'll be ashamed when they see their parson driven out of his house and havin' to live in a tent,--though I 'aint holdin' out much hope of that, to you. Folks that are the most religious are usually the hardest to shame. I always said, financially speakin', that preachin' wasn't a sound business. It's all give and no get; but this is the first time I've ever heard of a parish wanting a parson to preach without eating and to sleep without a roof over his head. Most of us seem to forget that rectors are human being like the rest of us.
If religion is worth havin', it's worth payin' for.”
The planking was soon laid, and the erection of the tent was left to Nickey's captaining--all hands a.s.sisting. With his manual in one hand he laid it out, rope by rope, poles in position, and each helper at his place. Then at a word, up it soared, with a ”bravo” from the puzzled onlookers.
”We want a poet here,” laughed Maxwell. ”Longfellow's 'Building of the s.h.i.+p,' or Ralph Connor's 'Building the Barn' aren't a circ.u.mstance to Nickey's 'Pitching the Parson's Tent.'”
It was next divided off into three convenient rooms, for sleeping, eating and cooking--and Hepsey, with three scouts, having driven across to the old rectory while the finis.h.i.+ng touches were being put to the new, she and her military escort soon returned with Mrs. Betty, and a load of furniture and other belongings.